April 10th, 1890 — Hospital Wing

Seneca had only felt this level of pain after being hit by various hexes during dueling competitions. She had known to expect such pain at those instances, though. This terrible pain to her lower part of her stomach had come unexpectedly that morning. To her dismay, she discovered blood in the area of her nightgown that covered her private area. She felt light-headed, fainted and woke up at the Hospital Wing, where a terrified housemate had brought her.

She had heard the nurse saying something about how interestingly one's period affected a metamorphmagus. Seneca transfigured a flower vase into a mirror and summoned it to her bed to see what the nurse had been talking about.

Oh dear!

Seneca's hair had turned blood red, her skin was terribly pale and she had dark circles. She looked like death!

Pain would manifest in such ways on her body before. Whenever she felt great pain, she'd look much paler than the average individual and her hair would become a toneless blonde. So it would make sense that whatever this sickness was would affect her.

The nurse told her that Slytherin's matron would come to visit her that afternoon. She herself was too busy to really pay attention to Seneca's plight because some Quidditch players had injured themselves during a practice. Apparently, Seneca's case wasn't so important!


With the afternoon came Miss Sykes.

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Constance Sykes Elladora Black

  

Dear God but she hoped Miss Lestrange already knew that her hair was a different colour. Admittedly, slight changes in the young woman’s appearance were hardly unusual, but this was rather more striking that normal and she looked, well, deeply ridiculous. The Lestrange colouring might just about get away with auburn hair but a deep red that reminded Connie of the sort of blood that seeped from dead animals before it went black was definitely not flattering. And she certainly didn’t want to be the one to tell her.

Miss Lestrange didn’t frighten her one jot but she was conscious that not all pureblood families were as neglectful as Holly’s and a word of displeasure from this particular young lady might mean her job was on the line.

“How are you feeling, Miss Lestrange? I understand the nurse has left things for me to explain?” She queried, pulling a partition curtain around the bed to afford Miss Lestrange a little privacy. Apparently the nurse was too busy to think of such a thing but she knew the next few moments would likely be excruciating for Miss Lestrange and didn’t want to make things worse.

  

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MJ made me beautiful

"I've been better," Seneca replied honestly. It would be silly to reply with the standard 'I'm alright' when she so obviously wasn't. "I'm in pain, Madam Sykes. My stomach and my head hurt a lot."

The nurse had given her a pain-relieving potion about an hour ago though its effects had yet to kick in. She had told her that if the pain was persistent for another hour, she'd give her a second dose. Seneca wanted to be given the strongest potion now.

"It is my understanding that this is a curse all women share?"

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“Indeed it is,” Connie confirmed ruefully, silently sending a offer on thanks to the nurse for kicking things off. At least she wouldn’t be starting from scratch. With girls Miss Lestrange’s age it could go one of two ways: either they knew the bare basics from their roommates already and were simply untethered by the foreign feeling, or else they had somehow managed to remain entirely in the dark and were furious about that state of affairs.

“And I’m afraid it’s something we will share for many years to come,she smiled kindly. “I hope it hasn’t come as too much of a shock to you? I know it is far from pleasant,”

  

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MJ made me beautiful

"Is there a way to stop it?" Seneca asked Madam Sykes. She understood that all women got the curse after a certain age but she didn't understand why. Who had cursed them in the first place? Had no witch tried to break the curse?

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If there was a way Connie assumed they would have found it by now – on the other hand she suspected that advancements in making the lives of women easier were not at the forefront of most academics minds.

“Perhaps one day there will be, but alas for now we remained cursed,” Connie replied wryly. Carefully seating herself next to the girl’s bed Connie’s eyes flickered to her hair and decided there was no point in being coy. “I do hope you’re not thinking of making this a permanent change.”

  

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MJ made me beautiful

"Dear Merlin, no!" Seneca replied. She hoped that she would manage to control her powers the more she experienced the curse, so she wouldn't have to walk around looking like a vampire burlesque dancer.

"Though thankfully it makes me unapproachable and I believe that is something I will appreciate while I am cursed!"

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"I'm afraid we still have to soldier on, regardless of how we feel," Connie advised, lips twitching at the indignation on the girl's face. "The lot of women is a terrible one," she added wryly, doubting Miss Lestrange would encounter too much hardship in her charmed life.

"Is there anything more I can do for you, Miss Lestrange? I'm happy to answer any questions you might have."

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   Seneca Lestrange

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MJ made me beautiful

Sometimes Seneca wished that she was born a male. The funny thing was that she could become a man if she wanted to, but it wouldn't be socially acceptable. Her metamorphic powers couldn't have settled into a male identity when she was born. This would have made her life so much easier. Even as a third son, she could have done so much more with her metamorphic powers. It was too late for that now. She couldn't just decide to be a boy, even if she wouldn't even have to change her name for that. It had been almost prophetic, to be given the name of some male Roman philosopher.

‘‘If you knew how to make it stop for good, you would have told me,’’ Seneca replied with a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘‘I thank you for your support, Madam Sykes.’’

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Connie liked the girl’s optimism and smiled nondescriptly as she got to her feet to leave. Truthfully if she knew of a way to make things like this stop for good then she liked to believe she would be altruistic but actually she would guard the secret like a precious gemstone and possibly find a way to market it to the public.

It was far easier to be altruistic when one didn’t live in boarding houses or on the grace of friends for three months of the year.

“You know where I am if you need me,” Connie said by way of farewell, taking a moment to stop by the nurse’s office to inform her Miss Lestrange was not to be allowed to wallow for too long. High time she got used to having obstacles to overcome.

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MJ made me beautiful