Chương 21: Secret Classes and Meetings

Riley and I decided to stay in the Transfiguration room as the mysterious required class was being held here. A pit formed in my stomach as the boys, and only the boys, left. We were shortly joined by the girls of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor. This didn't happen in canon, did it? Well, no, the books were from Harry's perspective, and he and Ron weren't friendly with Hermione—or any of the girls for that matter—until after the troll attack on Halloween. It very well could have gone without mention.

He wasn't an omniscient narrator. I took out my wand and fiddled around with it to distract myself. Ginny settled in on my other side.

"Hi Lyra. I did what you asked. No issues, and they didn't mention anything either. At least not to me." Riley bent forward and stuck out her hand, "Hiya~ Ginny Weasley right? You're a really good flyer. I'm Riley, Riley Rosewood." They completed their greetings and settled in.

"The plan is a go then," I said seriously when they finished; narrowing my eyes at the middle distance.

"They'll never know what hit them."

"This is a horrible way to go about– This." Ginny sighed.

"They're going to get revenge on you, and then you'll be sorry. What if they end up hating you?"

"Nah, I shall overcome their petty resistances and suborn them to the truth. Lieutenants in my budding empire."

"What's this?"

"We're discussing war, Riley."" She's talking about a prank war with my brothers. Leave me out of it." Professor McGonagall strode in from her office at the back, and conversations died. I couldn't help but tense up.

"You will have noticed by now," McGonagall started, "That this lesson is for all the young witches attending Hogwarts. I implore every one of you to take it seriously and not goof off. Anyone–" she glared pointedly in my direction. Which was entirely unfair; I never disturb class while it is in session.

"not treating this class—or its subject—with the utmost respect, will be severely punished. Am I understood?" The class gave scattered acknowledgments.

"Good. Today we will be discussing safety magic for witches, as well as the changes your bodies are going to experience, or indeed, may already be experiencing." She gave a very severe glare to the classroom as a whole.

"In addition, Hogwarts has long learned that teenagers living and struggling together will cause certain inevitable issues to arise, and any attempt at entirely prohibiting relationships from forming has backfired horribly. It is therefore current policy to not try to prevent relationships, but to impress upon those most affected by the consequences—the witches—what exactly those full consequences are." Fuck. It really is a sex-ed class. I'd been actively avoiding thinking about puberty.

Being a teenager was hard enough as a guy, and I held no illusions; girls had it worse. Far worse. I didn't want to think about physical development. Mine or other's. I didn't want to bleed every month or have my hormones run wild. I didn't want to be driven by whatever base instincts this body forced on me. I was largely apathetic about having a physical relationship in my last life.

For multiple reasons ranging from a liking of privacy, to never really feeling comfortable around others, to just having too many other projects going on to devote time to something so likely to end in failure. I had still felt 'those urges' towards girls, but I was uncaring enough that I primarily considered myself an ace. The possibility that this body might impose different preferences wasn't pleasant. Nor was the reality that I was mentally older than everyone here except the teachers.

It had only been a few days, and I'd already caught too many glimpses of my roommates changing. Come to think of it, how old was I? The differences I had experienced since becoming Lyra weren't only physical. My memories may have persisted, but my mind and emotions weren't wholly that of who I was before. Hence my earlier concern. My body, the treatment I received from others, my lack of knowledge and experience in the wizarding world…

Was 'how many years I could remember experiencing' really the most important aspect of determining my age? It wasn't like people with dementia or amnesia were considered any younger for having a poor memory. Does remembering more years lived actually make you older? I'd consider it more if it ever became relevant. Which it wouldn't for at least seven more years. Probably more.

Sure, I enjoyed innuendo and crude jokes, but even if I was about to start feeling attraction to others, I was sane and controlled enough not to get physically involved with a minor. Close friends were more what I was looking for anyway, not a family. I frowned, then decided to intentionally create more distance between myself and the boys. I'd much rather not deal with the fallout of a male friend's crush on me. It was easier to just befriend the girls I knew than expend effort that may exacerbate drama.

I turned my attention back to the lecture, firmly putting all thoughts of 'dating' out of my mind.

"If anyone has questions, you may bring them to me, Professor Sprout, or Madam Pomfrey. No question related to these subjects will be dismissed." McGonagall went over the physical development of girls and what to expect. Most of my classmates met the lecture with solemnity. Clearly—like myself—they already had at least some education in the field. The one Gryffindor girl who made the mistake of laughing at another girl's question was immediately given a week of detention and five points were taken from her house.

"Next week, at the same time every year, Madam Pomfrey will host this subject. It is optional, but she will teach anyone attending how to brew a simple potion that will minimize the discomfort associated with your cycles. If you have trouble with brewing it yourself, extra will always be in stock in the Hospital Wing.

"You will NOT attempt to deal with these issues on your own. You will not attempt to use these magics until Madam Pomfrey has given you permission. If you are ever in pain, go to Madam Pomfrey. She will not judge you in any way, will not discuss a patient with anyone else, and—most importantly—she will help. Any medical issue can be brought up safely with any teacher.

"On the other matter we must address today. Pregnancies will be met with expulsion. There are spells and potions that can be used to prevent this. Those will be taught next week as well.

"You will not attempt casting or brewing them without Madam Pomfrey's, Professor Sprout's, or My permission. This is for your safety. If you disregard this, Madam Pomfrey will still treat the issues you have caused yourself. Do not hide medical issues even if they are self-inflicted.

"If you find yourself too late for prevention, request a potion from Madam Pomfrey the morning after to ensure you will not be expelled. Delaying such action will only make the situation far worse." Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author's preferred platform and support their work! The class continued in that vein for the full double period. Trust Madam Pomfrey. The teachers will not judge medical issues, especially not Madam Pomfrey.

Don't ruin your future over refusal to seek help from Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey. Professor McGonagall. Madam Pomfrey. Professor Sprout. Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey. Madam Pomfrey. I think half the purpose of the class was about beating it into everyone's heads to seek professional help with anything medical.

"Professor, why don't boys need to take this class?" a Hufflepuff asked.

"Because the changes that occur in a teenage wizard are minimal compared to those of a witch, and the magic or potions needed to prevent a pregnancy through a boy's body are much more difficult.

"It isn't fair, no. It is the way of things, however." Her expression grew harsher, almost scary, for a moment before continuing, "We also don't wish to teach a boy magic whose sole purpose is to be cast on a witch's body. Issues have arisen from that before. This is your magic and your body." The girl who asked shivered at the implication. Class ended not long after that. Most of the girls were thankfully quiet as we left. Riley and Ginny included.

Professor McGonagall's stern demeanor—as well as the simple length of the ordeal—had done wonders in stifling any giggles and giving the lesson weight. Probably intentional now that I thought about it. I was drained, off-balance. The magical portions of the class had been moderately interesting, but I would've preferred to continue ignoring the realities of being a pre-teen girl. It wasn't like dwelling on it would change anything, and I'd already decided not to bother trying to transition.

It might be easier with magic, but I also didn't really mind when faced with all the extra considerations that'd need to be addressed. All the same, my chest felt itchy. Psychosomatic response to the lesson… probably. It's not like growth would've started midway through the lesson, and I couldn't have been blind to such a thing until it was forced to my attention… Surely…

Just because I was obsessing over magic to the exclusion of all else over the summer doesn't mean I completely neglected paying attention to my body's signals. I tried to shift focus to dinner, but another thought struck me. Eating. Nutrition. Healing. Magic supports life, and Hogwarts was a magically dense area. I was eating better here than Lyra ever had. Food with magic baked right into it. I'd been magically healed several times too. My body really might be rapidly trying to catch up to my physical age.

On a largely unrelated subject, I was particularly annoyed that we were given an additional pile of homework to be turned in by next Friday. Why? Just why? I was still stressing and stewing in my thoughts when Fred and George appeared at the far end of the hall. They stayed back, eyeing me in an overly casual way. Hopefully anyone noticing would assume they were paying attention to their sister on my right.

"I'll catch up later," I said to my current companions. I didn't head directly towards the boys, instead turning down an empty corridor. I trusted the twins to catch up.

"She always skips dinner," I heard Riley say to Ginny as I walked away. I settled into one of the many empty rooms of Hogwarts and waited. The twins walked in a couple of minutes later with massive smiles, and took seats across from me.

"We've got it," Fred, or maybe George, said with great enthusiasm.

"Nothing perfect, mind you, but it should help with a bit of mischief if that is what you're planning."

"Let's see it then." I was more nervous than anything. Ginny already had Riddle inside her, so I didn't have enough time to be gentle. I needed Hagrid's rooster, and I would have it tonight. Whatever the twins brought me would just have to fit the holes in my plans, and lubricate the operation. Still, it was my first time taking on something so big.

"This little beauty here–" The twin on the right pulled out a small vial of potion.

"is not an invisibility cloak."

"Obviously," said the other one.

"But it does do what you were asking for."

"It's called Essence of Midnight… or Midnight Essence? Whatever. It's a translated name anyway. Got it from Kilburn's."

"So long as you are in darkness, it will help make it harder to spot you."

"Specifically, you will absorb all light in an area around you for an hour."

"You'll be pretty obvious in brightly lit areas however."

"It's not invisibility. The effect won't hide you completely in the dark either, but you will look like a solid shadow. Hard to positively identify as a specific student."

"A good bit of anonymity and reasonable doubt." I considered the information. I'd been expecting the Instant Darkness Powder mentioned in the books, but this would work nicely. Possibly even better. Shame they couldn't find something more permanent.

"Kilburn's?" I asked.

"Wonderful witch. She owns a potions and potion ingredients shop over in Hogsmeade."

"Makes a tidy profit off scavenging from the Dark Forest."

"More importantly. She didn't even bother questioning why students were out of the castle during a weekday. Wonderfully refreshing attitude."

"Some people over there have no business sense at all, I swear."

"Does it reduce my own ability to see?" If it absorbed all light…

"No, of course not."

"Why would it do something like that?" Right. Of course, magic. Physics can go fuck themselves. However, if I could see through the effect, it'd provide no defense against the basilisk. No reason to try to save it then; best to use it at the start of the mission. I braced myself.

"How much?"

"2 galleons, 5 sickles."

"Not very economical if you want to use it all the time, but in the right circumstances…" It was acceptable. I had been willing to pay far more after all.

"How does the economy work for potions and enchanted items anyway?" I asked. It wasn't the most business-savvy thing to bring up with someone I'm paying for those items, but I wanted to know. The sooner the better, and they probably knew more about the economy than the eleven year olds I regularly talk to.

"Pretty simple really. Rarer and more valuable things cost more money." I rolled my eyes.

"I know how economics work. I was wondering about what wizards view as more valuable."

"Rarity is still pretty important? Not like goblin silver grows on trees."

"Not like some magic trees are easy to grow."

"Apart from that—and stuff like 'complexity to enchant', which also leads back to rarity—I'd say longer-lasting effects always cost more? Right George?"

"Yeah. Potential to cause harm also raises the price. We mentioned it with the invisibility cloaks, but anything so obviously capable of illegal activities puts a steep markup on the item."

"Oh! Demand as well, but you probably knew that if you know about economics. Food may be more or less everywhere, but it's always a top seller."

"Thanks. I think this will do nicely. You've earned the seven galleons." Fred smiled and handed over the vial, as well as a pouch containing my change. I counted it quickly and confirmed the amount before examining the vial more closely. The potion was a deep black, and the glass didn't look particularly valuable. I pulled out a galleon from the change and put it between us. Fred raised an eyebrow.

"Is this a tip, or are you planning something more?"

"I find myself getting lost in this castle with concerning frequency. I hear the two of you are quite knowledgeable about its secret passages and quirks?"

"We are indeed."

"In that case, I wouldn't mind a tour. Neither would Ginny." I slid the galleon across the desk to them. They'd probably haggle if I tried bringing a whole group, but Ginny was family. Bringing only her might lower their guard. Maybe even earn me a few extra secrets.

"I think we could arrange something for the two of you."

"I don't know how you'd manage it, but if you could keep me updated on passwords to the Slytherin common room, I'll update that to a galleon per semester." Two galleons a year. It might be cheaper to just buy it off them when I need access, but that would also link me to whatever I do in there. Plausible deniability.

There were already about a hundred students with regular access to the Slytherin dorm; a few people outside being constantly aware of the password doesn't mean they had anything to do with the events inside. A person who purchased the password right before an incident, on the other hand, was very suspicious.

"Oh, I think we could manage that," Fred said with a smirk.

"Need anything else while you're at it?" I considered the question. Was there more on my list that could be handled through relatively inexpensive purchases? Nothing stood out; nothing that I'd flagged. Except, maybe…

"Is there a way to store a potion long term?"

"Of course. There's a N. E. W. T. level spell for it, or you could just purchase some glass jars with the enchantment." I nodded.

"I guess if you're willing to purchase a few of those for me I'd be willing to pay, but not as much as I did this time. I don't need them until we start working on potions of a bit more value than Cure for Boils or Forgetfulness. Come back to me with pricing for them."

"Will do, Your Ladyship." I refused to give them the satisfaction of reacting to that nickname. Any responses would just encourage them to use it more. I stowed the vial beside my broom, padding it securely near the bottom of my expanded bag. As I finished moving things around in my bag to secure everything, my eyes locked on the gambling pool forms.

"I almost forgot," I said, pulling out a few sheets of paper.

"How do you feel about Gryffindor's chances this year in quidditch?" After all, they did have plenty of money to spend now that they've gotten their pay. As they went over the forms, my thoughts shifted to my plans for the heist. I was as ready as I could reasonably become under such a deadline. I still had the option to tell Dumbledore too if things started getting out of hand—or if I got caught—but it was only prudent to secure a weapon as backup. Tonight. I decided. Before the weekend started in earnest.