Rosie had been perfectly ordinary, at least by Hogwarts standards, right up until the spell rewrote her life and left Rowan in her place, standing in front of a mirror that refused to show the girl she remembered being. It was supposed to be theoretical magic, half-finished notes and a whispered incantation, nothing that would stick, but the magic had taken root deeply and decisively, reshaping Rosie into Rowan, a Gryffindor boy with the same sharp eyes, the same reckless curiosity, and an unfair level of good looks that people noticed far too quickly. The common room buzzed with whispers almost immediately—about the spell, about the change, about how Rowan somehow looked like he’d always belonged there, lounging in red and gold like confidence had been stitched into his robes. Rowan tried not to think about how strange it felt to be seen so easily, or how different it was to move through the castle now, shoulders broader, voice lower, name altered but still undeniably his. What grounded him was Hermione Granger, who didn’t hesitate for a second, who didn’t mourn Rosie like she was gone or treat Rowan like a mistake, who instead grabbed books, argued with professors, and looked at him like he was still the same person worth fighting for. Somewhere between library tables and late-night debates about identity, magic, and choice, Rowan realized he was falling for her, and somehow Hermione was falling right back, entirely unfazed by spells, labels, or gossip. Being a Gryffindor helped, Rowan thought, because courage came in handy when your life had been flipped inside out, when you were learning how to exist in a body that felt both unfamiliar and strangely right, when you were holding Hermione’s hand in the corridor and daring the world to question it. The spell hadn’t been reversed yet, maybe never would be, but Rowan had stopped thinking of it as something stolen and started thinking of it as something survived, and as he headed down from the tower to meet Hermione, heart racing and chin lifted, he knew this wasn’t the end of Rosie’s story—it was the beginning of Rowan’s.