Monthly Menses & Other Assorted Fun.
It was a week before Harry was able to meet Griselda at the park, this time however, she was dressed slightly differently. Where previously she had worn her hair in a long braid down her back, that same braid was now pinned up to sweep around her head in crown-like fashion. Covering that she wore a white headscarf embroidered on the edges in rather runic pattern, dark reds and greens ringing blue runes. Over top she sported a rather vibrant emerald scarf, though a rather alternate pattern and shade than Harry had seen her wear previously.
“Hello Harry,” Griselda greeted almost shyly, subdued in a manner Harry had not seen in her before. She waved and smiled warmly though, her earrings, a set of rather fetching golden owls which sparkled in the sparse sunlight and fluttered, jingling in the winter winds. Though it was getting warmer, the wind had yet to abate. It tossed Harry’s hair about rendering him in a constant disheveled state.
“Hello Griselda, are you well? What's with the change to your hair?”
“I am well, thank you harry!” Griselda grimaced though as if finding it unpleasant to say so.
“Are you sure? You don't look too pleased to be saying that?”
“Oh it's nothing Harry, just had to put my hair up rather early is all.”
“Why's that? You're not eleven already are you?”
“Decidedly not” Griselda nearly snapped, looking almost frustrated at whatever had caused the change.
“What happened then?” Harry pressed curiously, eager to understand what seems to be mildly upsetting to this new friend of his.
“Well Harry, I've become a woman.” Griselda spat looking quite unenthused by her admittance.
“You’ve what?”
Griseda sighed rather long sufferingly, "I've gotten my monthlies…You know, what ladies have.” Her face flushed with embarrassment at this profession, though not quite as much as Harry himself did.
Backing up Harry stared in shock, embarrassment and mortification filling him… How could he have been so absolutely pig-headed as not to understand what she had meant, that was no doubt rather personal and not at all something he was entitled to know. Harry was now rather afraid, had he just crossed a boundary? Would she refuse to be friends with him?
“I'm so sorry!” He nearly yelled, embarrassed to have made her share something so personal.
“It's okay Harry.” Griselda soothed, though she did still look quite flustered herself. “It’s one of the rules of propriety I didn’t know myself.”
“I-ohh…” Harry stuttered
Griselda smiled indulgently“ it’s okay Harry! I trust you lots… Most witches put their hair up either when they begin Hogwarts and enter into society or when they get their monthly flow, whichever comes first really.
“And you got yours early then?” Harry, despite his lack of knowledge, was not the boy to shy away from such things. It was that unlike other boys who considered girls to be gross at their age, Harry having spent most of his life lonely and excluded was quite happy to have a friend no matter their numerous differences.
“YuP” Griselda popped the p trying to put a humorous spin on what Harry assumed was a rather distressing situation.
“I-It wasn’t too bad was it ?” Harry grimaced himself, furrowing his brow to indicate his sympathies, or at least express reaction so that Griselda would not feel she was imparting rather personal secrets to an impartial judge.
“No, just quite the shock I must say. My birthdays in 5 days too, couldn’t it just have waited?!” Griselda groused, hilariously incensed at the injustice of it.
“Oh alright, is there anything else that’s changed? Aunt Petunia wouldn’t let me out of the house for a whole week because the neighbour's cat knocked over her vase and Dudley blamed me…so I couldn’t have come earlier.
“Oh not really Harry, it’s bloody bullshite that she treats you like that, you should get to go visit friends sometimes. It’s not like you're out at all hours causing mischief.. I hardly even see you!
“I know I know.” Harry sighed…”She's a bloody slave driver I swear Griselda, always inventing new chores to keep me busy, it's not fair at all! Dudley gets to have his friend over constantly, she waits hand and foot over them, or even allows him to go out whenever. Utterly unfair!
Griselda hummed I thought… “I wonder, would it be possible to have my mum phone your Aunt so you could come over more often?”
“Oh I don’t know about that, my relatives, they hate everything “magic” even though most things aren’t even real magic that they see. I heard them talking, your mum is a bit scandalous in these circles, rather witchy even to the ‘muggles’....” Harry grinned sadly…”Uncle Vernon would have a fit if he ever saw the inside of your house!”
“That’s a shame Harry….” And then after a pause to smile conspiratorially Griselda continued… Maybe we should do that. A fit might do your Awful uncle some good!”
This was rather a funny idea to Harry but he knew it would likely end in disaster worse than how things were, the Dursleys and magic where much like oil and water, they should never mix.
“Sayyy Harry~!” Griselda singsonged, “how about you come over for supper, mama would like to meet you as well.”
“O-oh well, I'm not sure the Dursleys, Uncle Vernon…really would appreciate me not coming home for dinner.” Harry Stammered, eyes wide and mind blitzing about contemplating whether it would be worth it to snub Dursley Dinner Time or not.
“Oh come now Harry, don't make excuses! I'm sure they can survive without you… what's the worst that could happen?”
“Well, I-I don't want to….” Harry trailed off, unable to fully admit the torment which the Dursley Clan subjected him to. It may be rarely physical but denial and neglect is abusive in itself.
“Sod them Harry! Let's go!!!” Grisleda spun around, an emerald vine covered scarf whipping in the air and began to make haste towards Abbey Road. No other choice, Harry ran after her, feet carrying him as fast as he could go he made excellent headway. Catching up to her about halfway there they ran side by side. The wind whipping in their hair, the fleeting warmth of the sun warming their backs, it was bliss, it was comfort, it was joy.
If Harry was to die today, he would die knowing he had at least found some level of good in this cold dark world. The wizarding world, his parents, family, all thanks to one little witch with white hair. Harry felt an almost unending admiration for her, or perhaps… It was love. A concept Harry in his short life hardly understood let alone thought he would be capable of. It was in its basest form, a miracle.