The orientation in the side-room is presided over by Angelina Johnson, who tips Harry a friendly wink and a smile as she directs Harry to sit down next to Luna and the second-year on forearm crutches she doesn't recognise.

"Welcome to the Refuge," Angelina says, smiling wider now. "My name's Angelina. Although I prefer using the pronouns she and her, I'm actually agender. What that means is that I don't feel like I have any gender at all. I'm not a girl, I'm not a boy. I'm genderless. I suspect some of you have a similar experience with gender. Perhaps some of you didn't have words for that feeling until now."

Looking around, Harry can see stifled nods of agreement.

"That's what the Refuge is here for, in part," Angelina continues. "To be a safe haven. To let you explore. To help you put words to those feelings, those ephemeral experiences and parts of who you are that you didn't know had a name. That you didn't know other people experienced.

"Professor Snape is actually the one who helped me realise who I was," Angelina smirks at the scowling man just slipping into the room. "Take it away, Prof?"

"It's Professor Snape, Johnson," Snape says rather testily. "But yes. Although few know it, particularly outside of these walls-and it better stay that way-" his glare could have melted glass, "I myself am genderfluid. This means that my gender changes. Sometimes I feel masculine. Sometimes I feel feminine. Sometimes neither. Growing up, my irregular gender expression made me a particularly choice target for...bullies."

Harry feels her stomach twist at the anger clouding the Professor's face. Anger mixed with...hurt? It's an expression she knows far too well from her own bathroom mirror, and she doesn't like seeing someone else look that way.

"The Refuge will be like your family, your home away from home," Snape continues, shaking away the bad memories with a flip of his cloak. "Inside these walls, there are no Houses, no House rivalries. Points will not be taken, punishments will not be doled out." He looks especially sour delivering those words, and Harry has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. "Unless, that is, your offense is particularly egregious," he adds with a sneer.

"And one more thing-do not speak of the Refuge outside these walls. Not even to your fellow Refuge members, unless you are under advanced silencing and privacy wards. The older students will be teaching the first years these next time. It is important. Do not tell the Headmaster any of what goes on at these meetings. The only Professors you may currently speak to at the moment, albeit in private, are myself, Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, and Professor Sprout. If an emergency comes up, contact one of us. If you cannot easily get a hold of us, call for one of the house elves."

He pauses and looks around, his expression softening marginally.

"Welcome to the Refuge," Professor Snape finishes, and slides back into the shadows.

Later, as Harry trudges back to the dormitory with Luna, she can't stop smiling. Or thinking about it all. She's not alone. She has concrete proof she's not alone. Even her Potions professor is like her, at least in some way, and she could practically skip. The only reason she doesn't is because Luna will probably skip with her, and make it seem even more odd than it already is.

The torches flare just ahead of them, and Harry stops dead, the hairs on the back of her neck prickling.

"Luna, wait," she hisses. Luna stops obediently, her head tilted to one side.

"Let's go back," Harry whispers, her words tumbling over themselves. Her wand's out, but she can't even remember taking it out of her pocket.

"Oh, don't leave on our account," a hoarse voice says just around the corner, the boy's shadow stretching out grotesquely across the corridor. "I'm so glad to see you."

Shit, Harry thinks, grabs Luna's hand, and sprints in the opposite direction as fast as she can, her shoes skidding on the slick stones.

"Get him!" she hears the hoarse voice direct, and the sound of pounding feet behind them. "Get the freak!"

"Faster," Harry pants, hearing Luna's winded gasps. "Sorry, Luna, faster!"

They put on an extra burst of speed, skidding around another corner, and another, until the sound of their pursuers is nearly gone, faded into the distance, and they're pelting along the corridor to their dormitory.

"Please just open up," Harry begs the bronze door knocker. "We don't have time for a riddle, please."

She could swear the eagle's head smiles, before the door swings open, and the two of them tumble inside. Safe.

No one else is in the common room and Harry and Luna just sit there for a moment, pressed against the door and trying to calm their breathing. After a few minutes, Harry can hear loud, stomping footsteps outside, but the two Gryffindor bullies apparently don't think to question the door knocker and try to gain entry that way.

"Come on," Luna whispers, gently tugging at Harry's arm and getting to her feet. Harry follows her without question, too dazed by the sudden turn in the night's events.

"Harry, they were waiting for you," Luna says, her eyes round. "Why? Who are they?"

"They're nothing," Harry dismisses, biting her bottom lip and staring at the whorls in the carpet.

"That's why they called you a freak," Luna says sharply, raising one eyebrow.

"They...found me earlier," Harry finally admits, reluctant. "Were gonna beat me up and stuff. Called me a boy. The usual," she shrugs. "Professor Snape caught them in the act, though. Told them off. Guess they're still mad at me."

"You should tell the professors," Luna whispers, and Harry shakes her head so fast, she feels like she's gotten whiplash.

"They're just being arses, it's fine," Harry says. "Look, if anything bad happens, I'll tell."

"Something bad has happened," Luna replies, but drops it for the moment. "Let's go to bed."

Harry follows her wearily up the staircase, hoping against hope that she'll have a night free from nightmares.

She does not get her wish.