Callisto

1

It was June 1994. Callisto Malfoy had just quite probably failed her exams, her father wasn't talking to him, her brother was distant, and her best friend since first year had abandoned her. The name that had been hers since birth, that hated, masculine name of Orson Cygnus Malfoy, had become a laughing stock at Hogwarts.

It was fair to say things weren't exactly going well, but one thing she had not counted on was her mother's support.

She didn't think he had ever seen her so animated.

"It's child's play," Lucius said flatly, when he heard her plan. "It is ridiculous, Narcissa."

"It's what Orson wants, dear. I think it's what he.....she, needs."

Though he might complain, Lucius could do nothing about the plan. As for Draco, he at least swore he wouldn't tell anyone.

Therefore it was a sunny day in late June when Narcissa sat her eldest child down at her French dressing table, and said, "Hm."

"Hm what?" Orson, a little nervous, asked.

"Never mind," Narcissa said, and she took her hairbrush and began to brush his hair, which was already shoulder length.

She thought she had never been so close to his mother as this since she had been a small child. Narcissa began to brush her hair out, gently pulling the brush through tangles. She winced as she yanked at a particularly stubborn knot.

"Mother!"

"Keep your head still, dear. It'll hurt more if you move."

She tried her best to sit still, and when Narcissa was finished, she paused.

"Hm," she said, narrowing her eyes at her. "I think perhaps...."

She pulled her closet door open and disappeared within. Orson heard her rummaging, but couldn't bring herself to ask what she was looking for.

When she came out, she was holding a box, which she opened, leaving it on the bed and shaking out what at first looked like some kind of pale furry creature, until it settled and she saw what it was.

"A wig? Why do you have a wig?"

Narcissa raised her eyebrows. "Now darling, do you think my hair looks as fabulous as it does without a little help? I have several. And extensions, but I don't think we'll need those."

She put her own hair in a little knot at the back of her head and then put a hairnet on top of that, then the wig. She smoothed it down and brushed it, straightened it, then surveyed her work.

"Yes," she said in satisfaction. "I thought the fringe would suit you."

Orson didn't dare look in the mirror. She didn't want to see.

Narcissa was rummaging in her makeup bag. Finding what she wanted, she took out a small bottle, then dabbed some concealer on her hand and squinted at her face.

"Close your eyes and turn around."

She did as he was told. She could tell his mother was having fun. First, she started with foundation. He could feel the brush dabbing at his skin, and it tickled.

"Mother?" She asked hesitantly.

"Yes?"

"Will you....will you teach me how to do makeup?"

She sounded like she was smiling. "Of course I will. I'll get you your own for Hogwarts, if you like. We can have a shopping trip. If you'd like," she added quickly.

"Yes please," she whispered. "Thank you, Mother."

"This is strange," she murmured, as her makeup brush tickled her nose. "I'm not used to doing makeup on other people. Did I ever tell you Bellatrix used to do mine when we were at Hogwarts?"

Narcissa talking about her sisters was rare. Orson tried to think of a response that wouldn't make her clam up, and decided to stay quiet, just shaking her head slightly.

The brush was at his forehead. "We were't supposed to. Mother forbade it. But she bought them in Hogsmeade. She was like that, you know. Bellatrix never listened to rules."

Narcissa cleared her throat, and he knew the topic was gone. Her mother helped him with concealer, mascara and some pink lipgloss, and then she said, "Have a look."

Orson peered into the mirror hesitantly, and he got a shock. It wasn't Orson that was looking back. It was her, the girl she had sometimes glimpsed before, when she had dressed up privately in her room.

She couldn't believe the girl in the mirror was actually her. It was exactly that: a girl. A girl with a soft face unblemished by stubble, framed by long blonde hair that fell to her shoulders. A girl with an anxious, unsure expression, full lips, large blue eyes framed by thick eyelashes.

Narcissa was bending by her side, looking over her shoulder. She had never realised how alike they looked before.

"You always hid your face," she said quietly, squeezing her daughter's shoulder. "Can you see how beautiful you are?"

She cleared her throat, afraid she was about to cry. "I look like you."

"A little. Mostly, you look like you. I'd kill to have a nose like yours." She scrunched her own up and made a face, making Orson laugh.

"Now she needs a name," her mother said gently. "Have you thought of any?"

"Um," she said shyly. "Not really. Only...."

"Yes?"

"I was thinking....Callisto," she blushed. She had only ever thought the name in privacy before.

Narcissa smiled. "A star like Draco. All right then, my little star."

"Mother, I'm sixteen."

"You two will always be my little stars, Callisto."

The name was strange on her mother's lips, but she felt a strange tingle of excitement. "Mother? You don't....you truly don't mind?"

"Of course I don't. I....I always thought maybe there was something you were keeping from us. I'm glad you could tell us. Besides, I always wanted a girl. I thought you were a girl, you know. Before you were born."

"What would you have called me? If I had been?"

Narcissa smiled. "I was leaning towards Cassiopeia. But I think Callisto is better."

She squeezed her shoulders gently, and her eyes looked a little damp in the reflection of the mirror. "I'm proud of you. You know that, don't you? Your father will be too, when he comes around."

She didn't think he ever would. But then something occurred to her; she had been referring to herself as a she without noticing. Finally, she could be the girl she always had been. Nobody could look at tall, beautiful Callisto and see the hulking, shy lump that had been Orson.

Finally she could be her.