Genderfluid // Wolfstar

2

She/Her/Hers

“You’ll still be my best mate, right?” James asks. For his part, he’s taken the news quite well. Remus had previously been worried; a fourteen year old boy could have a wide variety of reactions when told that his best mate prefers being called a girl rather than a boy.

But you could hardly call Sirius a girl. She’s blossoming into a young woman already. Her hair hangs long, curling down to the middle of her back. Her legs are long, her cheek bones high, her lips red and pouty. It’s well known in the wizarding community that you could hardly call any of the Blacks physically unappealing. They all have the very attractive, English aristocratic look to them, but Sirius is, by far, the most beautiful.

“Of course, you prat,” Sirius says, good-naturedly, “You’re not getting rid of me so easily. Besides, do you think you could honestly plan a successful prank without me?”

James exclaims something that sounds like a curse and tackles Sirius off the bed. They roll around for a couple of seconds between James’ bed and Peter’s. Neither of them manage to get the upper hand.

After they’ve exhausted themselves, Sirius’ reclines back on her elbows and pushes her hair out of her face. “So, whataya think, Pete?”

Peter’s silence worries Remus, but the look on his face tells the werewolf that he’s processing what Sirius told them. He doesn’t seem disgusted, just puzzled. His brow is furrowed, and he scratches his chin as he contemplates.

“Does this mean we should start pulling out chairs for you and holding doors open or something?” Pete finally says. Remus feels a weight lift off his chest as Sirius throws her head of curls back and laughs.

“Don’t worry about it Pete,” Sirius says, “If you forget, it’s no big deal.”

Remus knows Sirius is talking about the unnecessary acts of chivalry, but he can’t help but think Sirius is referring to the pronoun situation. The lads might slip up in the beginning, and he hopes to Merlin it doesn't cause Sirius’ too many feelings of dysphoria and invalidity.

The night Sirius decided on her new identity, there were a lot of tears. That was a long night, as Sirius curled into Remus’ side and cried, half in joy, half in sadness that she’d figured it out. It had brought up a lot of questions: When would she tell her parents? Could she tell her parents? What were the others going to think? What was her brother going to think?

In the end, Remus had urged her to at least tell James and Peter, so they would have a sense as to what was going on. They needed to know if one misused pronoun was going to send Sirius spiraling into an episode of self-hatred and dysphoria. And the fact that they had both taken it so well was good news and made the possibility for House-wide acceptance all the stronger.

James’ and Sirius’ wrestling ends with Sirius on top of her best mate and obviously winning.

“Do you yield, Potter?” Sirius asks haughtily.

“Yeah, I yield. Now let me up, ‘s supper time.”

Pete’s stomach growls, causing everyone in the room to laugh. The four exit the dormitory with the single thought of treacle tart on their minds.

Supper had been nice. The dynamic in the group hadn’t changed due to the news of Sirius’ new identity. Even better, Sirius had tucked her foot next to Remus’ under the table and kept it there throughout the meal. As they walk back to the common room from the Great Hall, James puts an arm around Sirius’ shoulders and they proceed to sing an old Wizarding drinking song Remus can’t name.

Everything is perfect until they get back to the dorms and there’s only three beds. More accurately, the bed missing happens to be Sirius’. Everything of hers is gone from the dorm—trunk, books, shoes, her towel that had been thrown over the back of a chair. Everything had disappeared, like magic.