Chapter 24 - Hermes

Infirmary, Monday (13 January cont.), 10:13 am

"Does Professor Snape know?" She had stood up, but was still a respectful distance from him.

"Yeah, a bit," Hermes said, shuffling and ducking his head. "He's letting me use a private bathroom near the Potions classroom. And ah," Hermes glanced up briefly before looking away again. "He calls me how I like."

"I'm happy to hear that," Madam Pomfrey answered with a bright smile. "What of your friends?"

"Harry doesn't have any problem with it. Me. And Ron Weasley's all right with me too."

"Any others?"

Hermes felt his cheeks flush at the continued attention, and he looked around for a place to sit in order to distract himself from it. Pomfrey summoned a chair after seeing what he was looking for, and it pulled up to next to where he had been standing.

"Thanks," He murmured quietly.

"There's a few others in my housemates that I feel okay with, but that's mostly it. My mum and dad aren't really—well, Professor Snape has been really good with me. I'm a bit prickly sometimes, I guess," Hermes admitted, staring hard at the scuffed toes of his shoes.

"Professor Snape is particularly good with prickly students," Pomfrey remarked with a wink.

"Some of the other students think he's kind of scary, but he's really good to his house. And Harry."

"And you, it seems?"

"Yeah," Hermes looked up again. He was grinning. "And me."

"Do you mind if I ask a personal question, Mr Granger?"

"I can choose not to answer?"

"Always," Pomfrey's face was serious.

After a moment of looking at her in silence, Hermes nodded his acquiescence.

"You were born with female organs?"

"Yessss," Hermes answered slowly, trying not to squirm.

"And you don't see yourself as a girl?"

"No."

"Do you know when exactly you realised you were different?"

"I guess when I was little. But it got a lot easier to figure out when I started school."

"How did your parents react?"

"They thought I was just being troublesome," Hermes' voice had dropped to a whisper.

"Did they ever try to hurt you over how you felt?"

"Hurt?" Hermes asked somewhat faintly.

"Did they ever try to beat it out of you? Or deny you certain basic necessities in punishment?"

Hermes swallowed hard and looked away. After a moment he nodded. Oddly enough, he wished that Snape was there.

"Thank you for answering. I know that this can be very difficult to talk about."

How do you know? Hermes wanted to scream at her, but he kept it to himself. This woman could help him. There was no reason to alienate her when she could do something to make this better. She might even be able to make him be a real him. Not just the 'him' in his own mind.

He hoped. The hope was so strong that his heart ached for it.

"What do you want for yourself, Mr Granger? How do you see yourself in the future? As a man? Or as a person with androgynous features? Tell me, how do you think you could most be yourself?"

Hermes swallowed hard over the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat.

Had Snape known that Pomfrey could help him? He didn't think so. Not like this. He would have told me to talk to her sooner. Probably. Maybe I never asked the right questions.

That was a lot like doing proper research, he knew. Don't ask the right questions and you never get anywhere near the right answers.

"I want to be a man inside and out. I don't want to go through puberty and grow breasts and have a vagina and all that goes with it. The thought terrifies me," Hermes didn't care that his heart was pounding rapidly in his ears. "I know that in the muggle world, there isn't much of an option for people like me. We're mostly just freaks, I guess. Like my mum says."

"You are not. You are absolutely not a freak, Mr Granger. That your own mother would refer to you as such infuriates me," Pomfrey said, her cheeks pink with indignation.

Hermes couldn't help the small smile that was threatening to break out over his face.

"Understanding how your mother, and perhaps your father too?" She looked at him in askance.

He shrugged, preferring not to think of the spineless git that was the male half of his biological origins.

"A marked lack of encouragement then," Pomfrey said, voicing his silent concern.

"Yeah."

"Understanding how your parents have reacted to you, it is little wonder that you have found such a mentor in Professor Snape."

"How can you tell?"

"I have known Professor Snape a great many years. He is very adept at helping those students who have no one else to trust. No adults, anyway."

"Have you ever had a situation like me before?"

"Not that Professor Snape has helped me with on."

Hermes grinned self-consciously. He was glad that his faith in Snape hadn't been misplaced.

"So you have had situations like this before?"

"Oh yes, Mr Granger. You are not the first, and I have no doubt that you will not be the last."

Hermes' smile was brighter than before.

"Is there anything the wizarding world can do to help?" He asked, steadfastly ignoring the waver in his voice.

Pomfrey smiled at him.

"Yes, Mr Granger. There is something we can do for you. It's a bit of an involved process, but if you stick with it to the end, then I believe you'll be happy with the result."

He thought he might cry. He ducked his head and scrubbed quickly at his eyes with his palms.

"What's the process?"

"Counselling from someone you know well is step one. However, you are already receiving this through Professor Snape's sessions with you. The only difference would be that a requirement that you discussed certain gender related topics, and continued talking with him on a semi-regular basis until you finish puberty."

"Second, you need to schedule consultations with a professional healer. Wizarding gender reassignment is largely potion based, and requires a certain number of genetic manipulations that are better not left up to chance."

"Furthermore, the healer in question typically likes to get an idea of how the rest of the male members of your family appear. Sometimes that can change your end result, but not always."

"Third, sometime after all of this has begun, you begin the fascinating process of actually trying out various bodies through a potion called Polyjuice. This helps with the visualization process, and allows your healer a chance to take your personal choices into account."

"Finally, the last portion of this process is your choice to reveal yourself to others. If you wanted to be known only as a girl throughout your years in Hogwarts and then reappear outside her walls as a man, then that would be your choice. However," She held up a hand to stave off his objections. "Since I doubt that this will be your choice, you would likely need to choose who to tell first. Then from there, a change in dorms would likely follow. And your medical file with me would need to updated to represent the changes."

"Do I need my parents' permission for this?" He asked, the thought occurring to him at last.

"It's your body, Mr Granger. It's your choice whether you even tell them about it."

Hermes burst out into hysterical giggles. He couldn't help himself, not really. It was a little overwhelming. More than, really.

"Would you like a calming potion?"

He shook his head, "no." He wanted to hold the hysteria close to his heart and not let it go. After another few minutes, he found his breath evening out naturally.

"How long do you think it will take before I'm in my own body?" He asked breathlessly.

"Possibly before the end of the school year, maybe the end of the summer. It could possibly be longer if your magic and your healer aren't able to agree on your visualizations. But all in all, it shouldn't last longer than two years at the absolute maximum."

"Two years or fewer?" He whispered mostly to himself.

Two years and I could be me. The real me. The me in my head.

He stood up abruptly.

"Do you know where Professor Snape is?"

. . .

Knockturn Alley - Beard Trimming, 2nd floor apartment, Tuesday, 9:24 am

A hand slapped his face and he startled to consciousness with a low cry.

Merlin. Everything hurt. His body felt like it'd been smashed and then torn apart. Blinking at his blurry surroundings, Tarquin McTavish sat up in the bed with a bewildered expression. Where the hell was he?

"'Bout time you woke up, boy!"

Oh no. He hadn't.

"Uncle Poddy?" His voice squeaked for the first time since fifth year.

"Don't you 'Uncle Poddy' me, boy! You're in a shitload of trouble! And for some dumbfuck reason, you decided to drag me into it as well!" The man opposite him roared.

He flinched backward, covering his ears with a groan. What the hell had he done yesterday!?

"What d'ya mean, 'trouble?'" He retorted, attempting to sound cocky but knowing that he hadn't quite managed it.

His uncle reached toward the table and pulled the paper off it roughly. With a grunt he slapped it down across Tarquin's lap, making him groan in pain.

Splashed across the top of the first page in a large stylized font were the words, "Poisoned Pregnancy?! Mysterious Death at Hogwarts!"

His eyes widened and he pulled the paper closer.

"They're lyin'," He grunted. "She ain't dead. She can't be."

"They didn't say she was dead, boy!" His uncle slapped the back of his head hard. "But her unborn kid sure as hell is. And she's in a bloody coma."

Tarquin closed his eyes tightly.

"I got a flippin' owl from that professor of yours. Seems that you need ta show him your face before you wind up being hauled in by the aurors. Wanted for questioning. What the hell did you do!?"

Tarq's voice broke as he answered.

"She's my girl. I guess, maybe she was. If she lives. I don't figure she'll have a hell lot to do wit' me now."

His solution had seemed easy. Get rid of the kid before they found themselves getting raised in a shithole like the one he had grown up in. There was no way in hell that Tarq was going to let a kid be raised by his Da. Mum woulda killed us both.

And Liz's Ma couldn't—wouldn't—have done any better.

"She was just gonna take something. She said she knew what ta do!" Tarq hollered, slapping the bed beside his mangled leg.

"You're too young to start thinkin' about bein' a dad, Tarq," Poddy said in a soft voice.

Tarq didn't wonder at his uncle's sudden mood switch. His Uncle Poddy had a handle on his anger, unlike his Da.

He closed his eyes and slumped back against the pillows.

"She said she'd take care of it. I—," He tried again, only opening his eyes when his uncle took his chin gently in hand.

"You gotta talk to yer head of house, I figure," Poddy said. "You tell 'im what you tol' me, and then we'll work out the next step."

"What if he has me arrested, Poddy?" Tarq let some of the fear he was feeling creep slowly into his face.

His uncle regarded him silently for a moment, and then stood up with a huff.

"You let your Uncle Poddy deal wit' that."

"How?"

The corners of Poddy's mouth attempted to smile, turning his normal scowl into something more resembling a grimace.

"Well, how 'bout we have 'im come here? And then if he's insistent on dragging you off somewheres, I'll find somethin' to distract him with."

The corner of his mouth creaked upward.

"I love you, Uncle Poddy."

"Bah! Don't be gonna all mushy on me now!" His uncle shouted, his robes swirling around him as he sped from the room.

Tarq grinned to himself for a moment longer, and then schooled his features back into something more appropriate. Now that he knew where he was, he was hardly surprised to be here. Uncle Poddy—despite his gruff ways—was safe. It was little wonder that his addled mind had brought him to the shoppe.

Though he did wish he hadn't splinched himself quite so painfully in the process.

"Guess I shouldn't apparate when I'm pissed," Tarq muttered to himself.

. . .

Infirmary, Tuesday, 10:48 pm

Elizabeth "Liz" Murphy awoke.

Consciousness returned very slowly. Pain seeped through her body, through every pore and every bone. Her lungs ached with every breath, and her abdomen and stomach muscles burned with the effort.

But she was alive.

There was coldness in the back of her mind, the spot where the little burgeoning consciousness had existed. Without realising it, she began to cry, unaware of the reason.

"Ms Murphy?" Pomfrey's voice filtered through her tears slowly. "Do you know where you are?"

"No," She whispered.

Where was Tarq? He'd said he be there for her. They were supposed to be in together. Where was Tarq?

"May I ask what you ate last?"

Her eyes closed. Everything hurt.

"Ms Murphy? Can you hear me?"

A potions' vial was pushed to her lips. She hoped to Merlin it was for pain, so she swallowed it without complaint. It tasted terrible.

The deep ache eased slowly. Her consciousness receded like the ocean tide going out.

"Ms Murphy?"

Tarq, was her final conscious thought. I want Tarq.