Hey, I'm back!
It's been some time, but there's now only 9 chapters left before I catch up on the French version xD
So I'll try to update here twice a month and hope the time will be enough to finish writing the story!
I think it should be fine, but we'll see. I've learnt the hard way not to underestimate my procrastination skills.

Know that I appreciate the actual humans following and reviewing here (got spammed a lot by "IA artists")

Enjoy!

It takes me two days to force myself to write to my parents. I hate it. And I can't quite find the right words. What am I supposed to say? Oh, by the way, I know I'm already super weird, that I'm a witch, and that my mind isn't at all that of a child, but on top of that, I don't want to have boobs? I keep sighing as I write the letter. It's none of their business, all this. It's personal. Intimate. I absolutely hate being stuck in a child's body, subject to all these rules concerning minors. It's been so long since I managed to gain some independence through hard work, and now being sent backwards makes me feel trapped. That feeling is why I cut myself that evening. But at least I managed to finish writing my letter, and I sent it. Whatever happens, happens.

On Saturday, Quidditch training goes pretty badly. I'm frustrated, and I can't focus on the game. Yet, at the end, Alphonse announces that I'll be playing against Ravenclaw in a few weeks. Lily Potter is going to be thrilled to know her lobbying efforts have paid off. Despite my failure in the last match, the announcement isn't received too badly. I suppose seeing me play in real conditions at least had the merit of showing that I wasn't any worse than Jenkins. Speaking of him, he doesn't take Alphonse's decision well, and one or two of his friends gather around him to voice their opinions to our captain. They're still shouting at him when I leave the pitch with an apologetic glance. Staying would only make things worse. And besides, Al' has been joined by his partner in the Firefly Hunt and our Beaters, who stand around him against the small group of angry players.

oOo

The information quickly spreads throughout the castle, because that very evening, while I'm waiting for Ewald in the Great Hall, Scorpius sits next to me, accompanied by his usual group.

"Word is, you're the one playing against Ravenclaw?"

"Alphonse announced it at practice, yes."

The twins' eyes widen:

"You're going to lose," says Albus.

"Lily is terrifying when she gets going, and she's been wanting revenge for months," adds Severus.

I shrug.

"We'll see what happens."

"I think it's pretty cool that your captain trusts a first year," says Scorpius. "But it's true, you're pretty good at flying," he adds, with a hint of jealousy.

The rest of the meal continues in the same vein. Eva keeps quiet while Scorpius eagerly talks about the matches he's seen and shares his analysis of the Hogwarts teams. The twins try to give me advice on how to face their sister. It feels like they want me to beat her, but at the same time, they're convinced I have no chance. It's… nice, I suppose? In any case, for them, the match is clearly a duel between her and me, rather than an inter-house event.

At one point, Lily passes near our table and gives me a victorious smile. It sends a chill down my spine. Despite myself, I start to feel provoked. I'd love to show her what I'm made of.

I have the chance to discuss it with Alphonse the next day. I get the feeling he's a bit scared of Lily too, even if he'll never admit it. He gives me way too much advice. But he's determined to win, and that's all I ask for. Arthur and Ewald, less involved, just congratulate me for being chosen to play.

oOo

It's on Monday morning that I receive my parents' response. I put it in my bag without reading it, preferring to wait until the evening, when I'll be alone, to open it. I know that Ewald and Arthur noticed, but neither of them says anything. At least there's that.

The day goes by without any particular issues, just a small altercation with a girl from my dorm that gets settled quickly with an intimidating glance. I have a reputation now. Once again, Cian joins us for dinner. She speaks almost exclusively to Arthur and Ewald. It's not exactly that she's ignoring me, no, but the awkwardness is palpable. She doesn't seem to know how to treat me, clearly unable to ignore my apparent age, uncomfortable when I speak normally (for me). I hate the experience. I wonder why she's even here. In fact, I quickly escape the Great Hall, only to be faced with reading my parents' letter, which doesn't promise to be any better…

In the end, their response is brief. They clearly don't understand what's going on.

"My dear,

Your mother and I are happy to hear from you. However, we must admit to being a bit confused by your desire to stop your puberty. We're having difficulty understanding where this idea comes from, and we're worried that you might be making a hasty decision. It's normal to be apprehensive about the changes your body is going through and will go through. It's a difficult age, and everything is changing. Given your maturity, perhaps we didn't prepare you enough, mistakenly assuming that you would welcome these changes with joy.

There is nothing to fear; your body is blossoming to make you a woman, even if the transition is not very pleasant. It's a major upheaval, that's certain. If we can help you approach it, we'll do so gladly. You tell us that your school nurse has temporarily halted your puberty, and I must admit that this decision, made without consulting us, worries us a bit.

Everyone must grow up eventually, and we fear that this might be your way of compensating for the precocity you've always shown. If that's the case, we want to reassure you. You will always be our little girl, and we will continue to love you through all the changes in your life.

We'd be happy to come to your school to discuss all this with you and your nurse.

Hugs,
Dad

"

I angrily place the letter on the floor before letting out a groan of frustration and mixed rage. That's why I didn't want to tell them! They don't understand anything! They're going to prevent me from making my own choices just because they don't understand! It's so unfair that they have power over me, over my body. Slowly, I begin to suffocate. I scratch my arms, trying to calm myself, to contain the anger within me, trying to stop myself from screaming… I fail. I don't even feel like cutting myself, for once, because my anger is directed outward. I'm angry at them. How can they be so stupid?! I feel insulted by their letter, in a way, as if I don't know what I want, as if I'm afraid of change. I pace around my tower before impulsively deciding to go out. I'm not going to calm down that easily.

My steps lead me to the Gryffindor tower, where I find the person I was looking for. He seems surprised to see me, even more so when I stand in front of him, interrupting his conversation with two of his friends who were doing their homework in front of the fireplace.

"Do you want to go broom jumping with me?"

I spoke in French, and the two guys look at me with even more confusion.

"Uh, at this time? Is everything okay, Viv'?"

"I just need to let off some steam."

I reply to Alphonse, still in French. He sighs in a theatrically dramatic way before standing up.

"Duty calls!" he says in English, with a theatrical tone toward his friends.

"Is that what you're going to tell Urgalt?" one of them mutters.

Al' pretends not to hear anything and follows me.

We head to a more secluded part of the castle to jump. There's still about half an hour before curfew, but better to be safe. We have fun jumping for about a quarter of an hour, with my friend not asking me any questions. That's probably why I went to see him. It's something I really appreciate about him. He focuses on the present moment without being too curious.

Finally, we hear footsteps coming toward us quickly, and prudently decide to hide. It's a good thing we did because we see the caretaker peek his head through the window we just came out of two seconds earlier. He looks down, and we had the presence of mind to fly upward. Reflexively, I pull the hood of my cloak, and Alphonse follows suit. Just in time, because he looks up and sees us. Without wasting a second, I take off like a bullet, followed by my companion. I don't even look back. We race between the towers, narrowly avoiding one or two unknown spells. We find refuge in my tower, closer than the Gryffindor dormitory, where we hide as best we can, out of breath. This caretaker is terrifying.

oOo

Once we're sure he won't find us, we burst out laughing, the tension shattering instantly. I flash a wide grin at Alphonse, who returns it.

"He's insane, shooting spells at students on brooms, isn't he?"

"I recognised the spells," Al' grimaces. "It was a sort of grappling spell. We wouldn't have fallen, but he would've pulled us straight back to him. I've seen him use it before…"

I shiver. I don't want to know any more, not when we've only just escaped him. Still, that little adventure really did me good, which is why I reply:

"That was fun, though!"

"Totally!" my companion grins.

I look away before admitting, "My parents pissed me off… I really needed this."

"What did they do?"

I sigh. How do I explain? I don't want to hear him say I'm weird or lecture me about puberty. Well, I doubt he'd say anything like that, but you never know.

"In short, I told them about something to do with my body, they didn't get it, and since they're my parents, apparently that gives them the right to make decisions about my body for me."

"You told them about…"

"About what?" I ask, slightly worried.

"The cuts?"

I nearly burst out laughing at how far off the mark Alphonse is. As if I'd ever talk to them about that!

"No, not at all. You'll probably think it's weird, but basically, I don't want to have breasts."

"Uh, okay. And why do you need to talk to your parents about that?"

"There are magical ways to stop breast growth. But to do that, I need their consent since I'm underage. For now, Madam Pomfrey has temporarily halted my puberty, but she can't do anything more without their approval."

The bitter humour in my voice is unmistakable. Al' frowns.

"I see… And they're not on board?"

I shrug and hand him the letter. He skims through it quickly before handing it back with a disgusted expression.

"Yeah, damn, I get why that made you mad! But Madam Pomfrey will help you, won't she?"

"I hope so… She seemed understanding when I spoke to her. But if they don't get it, they can stop me from doing what I want, just because they're my parents!"

Al' shrugs.

"For now, you'll see what they say when they meet her. But it'll be fine, Viv'! You're great at getting what you want! And if they don't understand, I'll help you!"

"And how exactly do you plan on doing that?" I ask, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

"I'll go talk to them!" my friend replies bravely, and I chuckle at the thought of him showing up at their doorstep. He cracks his knuckles menacingly, making me burst out laughing.

"Thanks, Al'."

"At your service!"

We sit in silence for a few moments before he speaks again, this time more seriously.

"It's unfair that it's like this. But it'll be okay. We'll make sure they understand, alright?"

I smile.

"Not like I'm planning on giving them a choice anyway."

And that's the truth. I'll find a way to get what I want. I've been through worse. I chuckle internally, realising that Alphonse has actually managed to cheer me up.

Speaking of him, he shifts slightly in place.

"I should probably head back soon, it's getting late."

"That's true." I smile. "Thanks for tonight."

"It was my pleasure." He smiles back.

I feel like the conversation is over, but he doesn't get up, still fidgeting, looking a little uncomfortable. Eventually, I crack.

"What is it?"

He nearly jumps.

"How do you know there's something?"

I roll my eyes.

"You're not exactly the subtlest person I know, Al'. No offence."

"That's fair." He gives a weak smile.

He squirms a little more before finally blurting out, "Are you still cutting yourself?"

I sigh. That's what this is about? I shrug, refusing to give a verbal answer.

"I don't get why Ewald lets you do it."

Now, that surprises me. Though maybe it shouldn't. It would explain the tension I've felt between them if Alphonse blames him. But it makes no sense.

"What does he have to do with it?"

"Since we got back to Hogwarts, it feels like he doesn't care any more, like he's not even trying to help."

Shocked, I don't reply for a few seconds, and Alphonse takes the opportunity to keep talking.

"I mean, before, he did everything to stop you, and it worked. And now, it's like he's given up."

"Just to be clear, you're blaming him for something I'm doing? You realise that makes no sense, right?"

Alphonse looks stubborn.

"He's the only one who ever managed to help you. He shouldn't just give up like that."

It comes so much out of nowhere that I struggle to find words.

"I don't get what you're accusing him of. He does what he wants, doesn't he? And it's completely unfair to blame him when you're not doing anything either."

The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. Al' punches the wall. I flinch.

"But I don't know what to do, Vivian! He does. He knows how to talk to you, he understands what's going on in your head. I'm too stupid for that! I feel powerless. That's why I… that's why I think it's unfair."

He looks at me, breathing hard, fists clenched. I'm lost. I wasn't expecting this anger, or these words.

"Are you okay, Alphonse? You're worrying me." I admit softly.

"I don't know. I'm worried about you, and it feels like nothing we do matters. Like it doesn't change anything. And I know it's unfair to blame Ewald, but I can't blame you for struggling! And he's always so sure of himself, so capable. I just want you to get better, damn it, it's not that hard to understand, but I don't know how to make it happen!"

For a few moments, I say nothing. I wasn't expecting this—especially from Alphonse. Once again, guilt creeps in for what I put my friends through. But at the same time, I feel a wave of tenderness toward him. I gather my thoughts before speaking, hesitant.

"I don't even know where to start. I don't think Ewald is really the problem here. Hmm… First of all, you do help me. Really. You don't need to do more. Like tonight—you actually managed to make me smile again, even though that seemed impossible after my parents' letter! I knew you were there, that you'd be up for coming with me, and that's… That trust means a lot to me. I don't know if you realise how rare that is for me. I… I was feeling awful, and I knew I could count on you." I let out a small, bitter laugh. "I don't think you understand how much that matters to me. But you can believe me, even if you don't fully get it."
"As for Ewald—don't think he never doubts himself. I think he just hides it well." I don't want to say more, and honestly, I'm only just starting to realise how much of his confidence is a front.

"And about the cutting… I won't lie to you. I still do it, and I don't think I'll stop anytime soon. But I do it less and less. I just need time, Al'. Just time. But if it's too frustrating for you, I'd suggest you stop worrying about it. I'm not going to die, anyway. There's no point in you stressing over things you're already doing your best about. Do you understand?"

Alphonse listens in silence. He grimaces but doesn't reply immediately.

"Do you really mean what you're saying?"

"Yes." I answer, unsure of what he's getting at.

"It's nice to hear that I help, but honestly, that's not how it feels most of the time." He sighs. I'm about to reassure him, but he keeps going. "I believe you, Viv'. It's just… I feel like it's not enough. I'm clumsy, loud-mouthed, and sometimes I feel like that's all there is to me. I charge ahead without thinking about other people's feelings, without thinking at all."

"But you know that's not true," I counter. "I think when something really matters, you act differently."

Al' watches me closely.

"Think about Azmi, for example. You're so careful with her! I did the research with you, I heard you talk about your dilemma. Don't try to tell me you rushed into that without thinking. And with me… We've had plenty of deep conversations, haven't we? Yes, you're impulsive. But anyone who really knows you can see you're not just some runaway train with no control."

He lets out a small laugh at the comparison, then smiles. It's not his usual big grin, but it's genuine. He looks so sincere in his vulnerability that I find it moving.

"Thanks, Vivian…"

Following a sudden impulse, I hug him briefly. He's surprised but hugs me back before letting me pull away.

"Are you going to be okay?"

"Don't worry." He grins, stealing my favourite line from me.

Finally, he gets up to leave, and I stand as well, ready to climb through the trapdoor back to my dorm. He pauses at the doorway and turns back to me.

"I really wish you'd stop hurting yourself. Come find me next time, okay?" Then, quieter, he adds, "I guess I owe Ewald an apology…"

And with that, he's gone.

I head up to my room and change quickly, my mind still on what just happened. Alphonse surprised me again. I'm glad I spent time with him, but I had no idea how he was feeling. I snort at myself. I'm the runaway train here. More than once, I've felt like a barbarian trampling through a garden without even noticing. I'm impulsive too—that's no secret. And I should be more mindful of my friends.

At least, after all that, I don't spend the night thinking about my parents.

oOo

The next morning, Alphonse joins us for breakfast, and I realise it's been a while since he last did. None of us mention our escapade from the night before, which suits me just fine. Even Arthur is with us, and it feels good to all be together again. I've missed this.

I spend the morning in the library with Arthur, and Ewald joins us a little later. The Hufflepuff only leaves at lunchtime to go find Cian. I'm grateful she doesn't join us.

Ewald and I sit at the Ravenclaw table to eat, in a noisy corner filled with first-years. At first, I think it's just by chance, but I reconsider when I feel his mind brush against mine. Surprised, I open the connection.

"Did you have a conversation with Alphonse?"

I respond with a mix of curiosity and surprise, along with a silent confirmation.

"He apologised to me this morning."

This time, I send him a feeling of satisfaction. I don't pretend not to know what it's about, but I need confirmation.

"Why?"

"For blaming me for letting you keep cutting."

There's a certain restraint in Ewald's thoughts, something I don't quite understand. There's something more.

"He was right to apologise. That was stupid."

"He wasn't entirely wrong."

"What do you mean?"

Ewald doesn't answer with words. He holds back some of his emotions—I can feel that—but he lets me see the guilt he feels for ignoring me since our return, up until our recent conversation, and for no longer trying to stop me from self-harming. I sense his sadness too. He's being hard on himself, as always.

"I'm going to tell you what I told him: it makes no sense to blame you for something I do myself. Especially since you've never encouraged it—on the contrary. I make my own choices."

The Slytherin sighs.

"I know that. Rationally." He speaks aloud this time.

"But?"

Because I know there's a 'but.'

"But I can't really control how I feel, and I still think there's some truth to it."

He switches back to Legilimency to finish his thought.

"I hurt you by walking away."

"You needed distance after what I did to you. And you've already apologised."

"Just like I told you I resented you for betraying my trust, knowing what it would do to me, I can't help but resent myself for ignoring you for weeks—even after I'd processed your last suicide attempt. It's just how it is."

"What's done is done."

I feel his agreement through our link, even though I know it won't stop him from feeling guilty. But I understand that. I understand his logic, and I feel what he feels. There are things we can understand and forgive, but that doesn't make them any less painful. I just wish he didn't have to suffer because of me. A foolish wish.

Absurd, considering who I am and the way I survive.

We both remain lost in thought for a while until Ewald breaks the silence.

"Was the letter you got yesterday important?"

Funny—before Christmas, he probably would have let it slide, storing the information away until it became useful. I don't know how to answer him, caught off guard. It's a little ridiculous that I hesitate to tell him when the other two already know. I'm afraid of his reaction. I dodge.

"It was a letter from my parents."

His eyes say, "You didn't answer my question." I sigh.

"I'll tell you about it later, okay? It's nothing serious… But yeah, it's important. I think."

He accepts my response, his gaze scanning the crowded tables around us. We finish our meal in comfortable silence. I want to hug him. I can't, not in public. I realise that since Christmas, we've had very little physical contact, whereas during the holidays, I had gotten used to it. I miss it. At the same time, I hate myself for suddenly feeling this sharp sense of loss. I hurry to finish eating. I should tell him.

When I look up from my plate, he's watching me. As usual, I feel like he sees right through my masks. I grimace. His mind brushes against mine—an invitation. I hate how vulnerable I feel. Clumsily, I transmit my longing. I suppress my emotions a fraction too late, and I know he catches a brief wave of my guilt and shame at being so open again. As if it matters, since he's already seen me at my worst.

He sends me soothing emotions, and his fingers brush discreetly against mine on the table. I've finished eating, but I stay put, waiting for him to finish as well. There's no point pretending any more—he knows.

In the end, I walk him to his Potions Club. We don't speak about what I transmitted, but we take a detour to our hideout, where he pulls me into a hug. His familiar scent makes my eyes sting with unshed tears, even as it calms me. He smiles as he steps back. We don't speak until I leave him in front of the club's laboratory.

I don't know what to do with all this. Thinking about the holidays reminds me of our near-constant physical closeness, especially the nights he spent watching over me. It was so selfish of me. It helped me so much. I know I can't ask for too much. I also know I'll miss it. I don't know how to find a new balance. My betrayal is a fracture, and returning to Hogwarts has reshaped the distance between us. He's not my brother. He's just a seventh-year who happened to befriend a weird first-year. We weren't meant to be this close. So holding hands, hugging… It doesn't fit.

He'll leave next year, along with the others. What will loneliness feel like? Alphonse will still be here, sure, but only for another year. And we don't often have conversations like yesterday. He doesn't see the things I can't say the way Ewald does. Or even Arthur. The Hufflepuff is surprisingly perceptive—just a bit too invasive. I push these thoughts away as best I can.

If I keep thinking about it, I'm going to panic.

oOo

The next day, it's already time for my appointment with Madam Pomfrey. This time, I go alone. Arthur more or less subtly offered to come with me, but that would be suspicious, I think. Besides, it's my problem. He's helped enough already. And normally, she won't need to cast any diagnostic spells since the treatment only needs monitoring once a month.

I find myself in her office again, and after the usual "How are you?" (to which I lie effortlessly), she gets straight to the uncomfortable part.

"Have you been able to talk to your parents?"

I grimace.

"Yes, ma'am. They didn't really understand." Observe my remarkable diplomacy and mastery of understatement…

"What exactly did they say?"

"They convinced themselves that I'm afraid of growing up and are fixated on puberty blockers. Apparently, they think I want to stay stuck in childhood to compensate for my precociousness or some other rubbish," I mutter sarcastically.

The nurse gives me a slightly surprised look. I should probably tone it down a little—she thinks I'm eleven. Not that I care.

"I see. Did they say if they would be willing to come and discuss it?"

"Yes, they agreed."

"Well, that's already good news. How do you feel about all this?"

"I'm still sure I don't want a chest, if that's what you're asking," I reply immediately.

She clears her throat.

"I was actually asking how your parents' words made you feel. You seem angry…?"

I sigh, doing my best to suppress my irritation. Thank you, Captain Obvious.

"I'm angry that I have to beg for their permission for something that concerns my own body, but I believe I already made that clear at our first meeting."

I try to find a diplomatic way to say "Their stupidity is incredibly frustrating," but nothing comes to mind. She stays silent, probably intending to be encouraging, though I detect a slight discomfort in her. I'm used to that.

"Look, they're not wrong about me being precocious. I'm used to being fairly independent, and it's incredibly frustrating that my well-being depends on their approval—especially when they don't even seem to understand what this is about. I know what I want. I also know I'm not afraid of growing up—on the contrary. But I'm lucky enough to know how I want to grow up. They should respect that instead of infantilising me just because I don't fit their understanding, don't you think?"

Her discomfort deepens, tinged with professional curiosity.

"I hear what you're saying, Miss Mackson. And indeed, listening to you, I don't doubt that you are particularly mature and certain of your choice. Have you ever taken tests to assess your intelligence as a child?"

"I was diagnosed as high intellectual potential."

She offers me an encouraging smile.

"Do you know when you first showed signs of advanced abilities and thinking?"

I sigh discreetly.

"Always, ma'am. But that's not really relevant to the matter at hand, is it?"

Her lips press together slightly, and I realise I'm bordering on insolence. I dig my nails into my arm under the table. I really need to calm down and learn when to shut up. Unaware of my internal scolding, Madam Pomfrey responds with a motherly smile that grates on my nerves.

"You're right, Miss Mackson. I'll set up a meeting with your parents to discuss all of this, okay? Don't worry—it's not the first time I've had to explain these things to parents. And if they refuse to give their consent, there are other solutions. But I doubt it will come to that, so try not to worry."

She smiles again. It's starting to get on my nerves. Seeing that I don't react, she continues.

"I mentioned last week that I'd like to introduce you to a student who is also transgender. Are you still okay with that?"

I shrug slightly, still unconvinced about the whole thing.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Fantastic!" she beams. "Could you come back here around four o'clock? He should be available then."

"No problem," I reply, already tired of wasting time on this.

Just before I leave, a question comes to mind.

"Will you let me know when the meeting with my parents is scheduled?"

"Of course, miss."

"Can I be there?"

"If you wish, yes. You are the most affected by this, after all! But don't force yourself if you think it might be too difficult."

"I want to be there."

"Then it's settled!"

And with that, she lets me go.

oOo

Still a bit annoyed by the whole situation, I try to skip lunch. Try being the key word here, because Ewald clearly has other plans. He finds me in my tower about half an hour after the meal started and makes me come with him to eat something. He doesn't ask any questions, just makes it clear that he won't let me skip meals while I'm still growing. If only he knew… Apparently, he thinks he's been too lax lately.

I have to admit, his sudden change in behaviour worries me a little, but I don't question it. I'm not exactly in the mood for yet another conversation about my cuts, for example. I think he still feels guilty about the past two months. His hand stays in mine until we start passing other students, and that simple contact does me a world of good.

At four o'clock, as agreed, I head back to the hospital wing. When I arrive, Madam Pomfrey is in her office. Her assistant notifies her, and she soon appears with a Ravenclaw I've never seen before—one who absolutely oozes style. His hair is shaved on one side, dyed a striking electric blue, and there's a lightning-shaped tattoo on his left cheek. His uniform collar is left slightly open, tie loosened—kind of like how I've seen Alphonse and other "cool" guys wear theirs. He's fairly tall, probably in his final years at Hogwarts. Madam Pomfrey's voice pulls me from my observations.

"Miss Mackson, this is Mister Rogers. You can talk in my office if you'd like some privacy, but feel free to go wherever you're comfortable, alright?"

The Ravenclaw's blue gaze lands on me with kindness, though his smile is a little tense.

"I was thinking we could go to the park, if that's alright with you?"

He speaks directly to me. I shrug. That's probably better than being stuck in the hospital wing, I suppose.

"Why not."

His smile shifts to something more genuine. Right answer, I guess. I follow him without complaint, though I feel a bit uneasy being alone with this guy I don't know. He walks in long strides but slows down when he realises I have to half-jog to keep up.

"Sorry! I don't like hanging around the hospital wing much—bad memories of hospitals. Your name's Vivian, right?"

"Or Eris, whichever you prefer. Just not both at the same time—my parents have terrible taste in names!"

He laughs.

"Oh, I so get that! If only you knew the deadname they gave me. I go by Ocean."

"I love your name! And your hair, by the way." I exclaim sincerely. The smile he gives me in return is the brightest one yet.

"What's a deadname?"

Ocean lets out a slightly nervous chuckle.

"Pomfrey wasn't lying when she said you didn't know much about trans stuff! Sorry, I'm not really used to playing teacher. A deadname is the name you were given at birth. You don't have to change it, but a lot of trans people do."

He runs a hand through his hair, looking a little awkward.

"I'm not really sure where to start. Is it okay if we wait until we're outside for me to explain a bit?"

"No problem." I reply, continuing to walk alongside him.

The sun is shining brightly, and it's quite mild for the season as I follow my companion to a stump which he transforms into two chairs so we can sit down. He then begins to explain to me, with much more pedagogy than I would have expected, what transidentity is. At first, I have a hard time understanding the need for people to transition from male to female and vice versa, but as he explains further, things start to make more sense. What interests me the most is the distinction he makes between biology, what the body looks like, and gender as a social construct, like the set of beliefs and prejudices attached to one sex or another.

"I admit I never understood the gender thing. For me, it's not your genitals that will determine anything about your tastes or personality."

"We're in agreement."
"But then, I don't understand why someone would want to go from male to female, or the other way around… I don't want to offend you, but I just don't get the point. You do whatever you want anyway, right?"
"We live in a gendered society, whether we want to or not. And for me, for example, I identify more with the codes of masculinity than femininity. I feel more comfortable when I'm gendered as male. I fit into the 'man' box. That doesn't mean I like explosive battles, straight whiskey, and pure-bred Abraxans! But I fit into this gender."

I think for a moment about his response. It makes sense. But...

"For me, it doesn't make sense to say an activity is for girls or for boys... There are just activities and people. And everyone likes different things... Why put expectations and categories? I don't know, if I had to put a label on myself, I'm definitely not a man. But I'm even less a woman, I think, in the gender sense."

"There are people in between! It's called being non-binary. But it can also be not having a gender. There are people who alternate between two genders, or more, that's being genderfluid. But all of this falls under the non-binary label."

One thing stands out from his talk:

"Oh, so it's possible not to have a gender?"

"Yes." he smiles, "It's called being agender. And honestly, from what you've told me, it could possibly fit you. These are non-binary people who don't identify with any gender. But you have time to see how you feel about it, you don't have to put a label on what you're feeling."

"Of course." I smile, "But I think words help define things."

"That's true. For me, anyway, it was when I could put my transidentity into words that I realised I wasn't crazy!"

He laughs lightly, but I can feel the sincerity and weight behind those words.

After that, we continue to discuss gender, transition, and even medical changes. I'm quite hesitant at first, but he manages to make me feel comfortable and explains that it would be better to ask him questions, as he is ready to answer, rather than someone who wouldn't expect them. I explain my desire not to have breasts, without masculinising my body, and I must admit that with his explanations about gender, this could be seen as a desire to de-gender my physique. That would make sense, I think.

He tells me a bit about the medical procedures he has experienced, seeming to forget that I'm supposed to be eleven years younger as the conversation goes on. He also talks about gendering, changing names, civil status, etc. When we part, my head is spinning, overloaded with new information. Ocean is well aware of this, as he walks me back to the castle, apologising.

"I'm sorry if I gave you too much information, I don't know how to pace it. But don't hesitate if you have more questions, okay? We should also talk about gender expression and sexual orientation sometime. Anyway, it was cool talking with you. I feel a bit bad, I came with lots of prejudices, but you're really awesome!"

"How's that?"

The discomfort returns in my interlocutor's eyes.

"Well, you know... There are rumours about you, they call you Baby Monster and all. But I'm really ashamed I listened to them, I can see you're not like people say. I'm really sorry."

"It's alright." I reply, a bit offended, even though I try to hide it.

His explanation puts a slight chill in the air, but I still take the time to thank him before leaving him at the entrance to the Great Hall.

"Thanks again for all your explanations, Ocean. It was really interesting talking with you. And you'll give me the brand of your dye potion, okay?"

He nods cheerfully, and I feel his discomfort dissipate as he heads towards his friends. As for me, I join Alphonse and Ewald, who are sitting at the Slytherin table. When he sees me approach, the Gryffindor asks:

"Are you fraternising with the enemy?"

"What's that?"

"You do realise you just made your entrance with the keeper of the Ravenclaw team, do you? What did he want from you?"

"Oh! Uh, it had nothing to do with Quidditch." I blush a little, and add, in French, because it's Alphonse and he won't let it go, "We were talking about transidentity."

"Ah!" After that, he says nothing more, returning to his meal.

Sensing Ewald's reaction, I mentally say to him:

"It's related to the important but not serious thing I need to talk to you about, I'll tell you later, okay? I have a lot to think about."

The green and silver gives his assent, but I feel his curiosity, tinged with a hint of concern. I imagine I'm really going to have to explain it to him... In my mind, new concepts are spinning in circles, and one word stands out. Agender.

oOo

"When I was a child, I was told that girls were afraid of spiders. From that day on, I made it a point to pick them up with my bare hands and let them crawl on my arm. I was also told that pink was for girls and blue was for boys. Since then, blue has always been my favourite colour."

-Excerpt from a text message between Aurore Berger and Quentin Lemage -

A lot of social interactions in this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it :)
I'll be looking forward for your reviews :p
See you (probably) in two weeks!

(I'm translating a finished fic of mine in the meantime, feel free to check it out)