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Harry was looking at himself in the mirror.
He had just been allowed to have his own room and enjoyed the newly found space. A mirror that showed his whole body was something he wasn’t used to, since he previously only used the small one in the bathroom to brush his teeth or quickly wash himself. Now, Harry was standing in the middle of his bedroom wearing only a big grey shirt that had been worn by Dudley before. The shirt was one of the largest he had, and it almost reached down over his knees.
Harry turned around and took the belt he had placed on the bed. He put it around his waist to make the shirt look more tailored and like a t-shirt dress instead of an ugly old sports top. A dress. A real dress. Harry liked to imagine how that would look on him. He pictured the grey shirt to be a short summer dress, flowing around his legs in the sun. But he didn’t even get to leave the house enough.
Suddenly, he heard footsteps rapidly approaching his door. He wasn’t allowed to lock the door. If his aunt or his uncle saw him like this, he would probably get nothing but screams and slurs for dinner that night. As fast as he could, he tried to get rid of the belt and switch into some shorts, but before he could even open the clasp of the belt the bedroom door opened with a smash and his cousin looked at him. Whatever reason Dudley had to come to Harry’s room was seemingly forgotten the moment the Dursley’s son stared at Harry, who wanted to say something but couldn’t bring his voice to form the words. After a few seconds of just staring at each other in silence Dudley yelled, “MUM!” at the top of his lungs.
“No, please, no,” Harry pleaded, but his cousin smiled viciously and shouted yet again.
“MUM! DAD! HARRY IS DOING THE QUEER STUFF AGAIN!”
With cold sweat, Harry woke up and started panting. With a relieved sigh, he took in the other beds in the dormitory and the soft light of the moon illuminating the red curtains and the faces of Ron, Neville and his other friends at Hogwarts. He tried to calm down his breathing while staring up at the ceiling. Lately, he had been getting a lot of those nightmares that made him wake up like this. Harry knew he couldn’t go on like this for much longer. Every day it got worse, and he felt more and more terrible and out of touch with his body. The more time passed, the more he just wanted to be true to himself. But who could he confide in? Ron or Hermione? Maybe Luna? But what if they didn’t understand, what if they pushed him away? Harry sighed when he felt the familiar pressure creeping up his chest and he started shaking under the covers. I need to do something, he thought, for real this time.
Harry was pacing back and forth in front of Professor McGonagall’s office. It had taken him some time to rack up the courage to come here and now he still had to knock. He didn’t know who else to turn to, but he also knew he couldn’t keep on going like this much longer. He wasn’t happy. Not that he had ever been truly happy in his life, considering all the circumstances. Growing up with the Dursleys had been a struggle at best and utterly horrible and harmful at worst. The last few nights he had been lying awake, unable to find sleep, thinking about how he truly felt, and he had realised that there always had been occasions when he didn’t feel like he was meant to be Harry, a boy.
“Mr. Potter?” he heard a voice behind him. When he turned around, he saw the Transfiguration teacher walk towards him.
“Yes, hello,” he said.
“Do you need something?” Professor McGonagall asked when she came to a halt in front of him. Her eyebrows were raised as she looked at him. But she realised really quickly that the Gryffindor student had something troubling his mind. Harry was staring at his hands.
“Do you have a moment? There is something I need…um…advice on?”
McGonagall’s face softened at his words and she opened the door to her office. “Of course, come on in,” she said and led the way inside. Harry followed his teacher to her desk and sat down opposite her. Professor McGonagall reached for a small tin. “Biscuit?” she offered.
Harry nodded. “Thanks.”
“So, what is it you need advice on?” McGonagall asked and took a biscuit out of the tin box herself.
“Well,” Harry began after swallowing a bite, “I didn’t know who else to talk to about this because… To be honest, I don’t want to lose any of my friends that I have found and…” He had been pretending to have this conversation a few times when he had been alone and even earlier that day in class. In his mind, he had been so sure of what he was going to say, but now that he was actually sitting in his teacher’s office, he forgot everything. He wasn’t able to form the words and say it out loud, because then it would become true and he was dreading that moment.
“You clearly have something on your chest that is upsetting you, and I assure you that everything you tell me will be treated confidentially,” McGonagall said calmly. “What is bothering you, Mr. Potter?”
Harry sighed. “That. Mr. Potter. I don’t like it. I don’t want to be called that anymore,” he then blurted out. “Is that okay? That I don’t like being called him or Mister?”
For a few seconds, McGonagall’s eyes rested on him before she breathed out and replied. “Of course, that’s perfectly okay,” she said. “You don’t want to be called Mister? Then, what else would you like to be called?”
Harry didn’t reply right away. He could still apologise for bothering his teacher and leave, but he had chosen to seek out Professor McGonagall because he trusted her and he wanted to say it, get it off his chest once and for all.
“I think... I’d like to be called Miss Potter.”
“Okay,” McGonagall said slowly as she processed what she had just heard, “I think I understand.”
“You do?”
“Of course, you’re not the first student that came to me when figuring out their sexual orientation or gender identity. If you are not comfortable with the pronouns that are used for you, we can start calling you by your preferred ones.” She smiled reassuringly and pushed the open biscuit tin across the desk.
“I’ve been thinking…I’d like to be called Jamie, because of my middle name, James, and my dad.”
“That’s a very thoughtful decision,” McGonagall nodded with a smile. She remembered James from his time as her student and really liked that Jamie had chosen to honor her father by picking a similar name.
“But it’s not only the title and pronouns being used for me. I look at myself and I see a boy and I don’t like that at all. I want to be a girl and I don’t understand that. Is that weird?”
Professor McGonagall shook her head. She knew that Jamie’s upbringing wasn’t the most tolerant and open minded – what else could’ve been expected of the Dursleys anyways?
“No, that’s fine. I understand why it must feel weird, especially if you’ve never heard about it back at the Dursleys. But you’re not the only one with these feelings, Jamie, and whatever pronouns you feel comfortable with, however you identify, it will be respected in this school,” McGonagall tried to reassure her student. She understood that Jamie was afraid of feeling rejected after the experiences she must have made growing up.
“I’m afraid of how others will react when I come out to them. I never had friends and I don’t want to scare my newly found friends away,” Jamie said.
Professor McGonagall let out a sigh and closed her eyes for a few seconds. She contemplated what she was going to say next before answering. “I have to admit that I am not proud of the decision that we made all those years ago when we left you at the Dursleys,” she confessed. “I just now begin to understand the extent of their harmful treatment towards you.”
Jamie nodded. She didn’t know if it was the relief that she had come out to Professor McGonagall or the rush of hopefulness she felt that made her open up even more.
“Growing up, there were several moments when I noticed that I felt... different about being a boy. Whenever my aunt gave me Dudley’s old clothes I felt sad. Not only because the shirts were old, looked worn out and were way too big for me, but because they were boys’ clothing and I didn’t like to see myself in the mirror in sports shorts and grey masculine shirts. Sometimes I picked out the largest shirt they had given me and cinched in the waist with an equally old belt to make it look like a dress. I liked myself more in that. But all hell would break loose when aunt Petunia or uncle Vernon saw me like that. They called me queer and told me to let it go. They made me feel bad for it and and always yelled at me, that it was wrong for boys to like feminine things. I was constantly being punished for how I felt. And I didn’t even have a word for it back then, because I wasn’t allowed to spend time outside of the house except for school. I never met someone who was like me. When I came to Hogwarts I learned that there was nothing wrong with being not straight, but I still couldn’t figure out what it was that I was feeling. Last year when the Yule Ball came up I felt horrible in the suit I was wearing. I looked in the mirror and felt ugly, and then I saw all these girls in their beautiful dresses and I wanted to wear one, too. But I was too afraid to act on it, I’m still too afraid I think. I thought I was weird or wrong or broken. To be honest, I still feel like I’m doing something wrong.”
Minerva McGonagall had moved a hand to her chest while listening to Jamie’s story. It made her feel regret and guilt because she could’ve had the chance to prevent Jamie from having to experience this toxic upbringing by the Dursleys. Her heart was breaking when she imagined Jamie in the small cupboard under the stairs where she had been forced to live, or when she tried to make a dress out of an old shirt that had already been worn by Dudley. The teacher had to admit that she felt hatred. She hated the Dursleys for what they had done to this child, she hated them for teaching Jamie that her feelings were wrong and exposing her to all that transphobia and homophobia. Minerva felt such sorrow and she wished they had done things differently. She regretted that Jamie hadn’t got the chance to have a normal childhood, and that she wouldn’t get the chance to reclaim those days she had missed out on. How would things have turned out if Jamie had grown up with Sirius, or with Minerva herself for that matter?
“It’s hard to let go of those views that you have internalised, but that doesn’t mean you can’t unlearn to think like that. You’ve done well, you’re strong and this is another step that I’m sure you will master. And I can assure you that you won’t have to fight this fight alone, you never have to fight alone. You can always come to me and talk,” Minerva finally answered.
“Thank you. I really appreciate it, Professor,” Jamie replied and tried so smile.
“There is an LGBTQ+ club that was founded by Mr. Longbottom,” the teacher revealed, “maybe you would enjoy joining them. It might make it easier for you to come out to students in a safe environment.”
Jamie’s eyes widened. She didn’t even know there was such a club. “Yes, of course. That would be great,” she said.
McGonagall smiled fondly. “I’m very proud of you that you came to me today because I’m ready to help you with whatever you might need.”
That evening Jamie went to the club meeting McGonagall had told her about. She stood in front of the door to the empty classroom and second-guessed her decision to come here. Inside, she heard a few people talk and fear started to spread through her body. But she had come all this way already, and if she didn’t do it today, she might never do it. Jamie walked up to the door and reached for the handle when she hesitated again. Was she really ready for this?
“Hi, what are you doing here?”
Jamie flinched and turned around. Eyes wide open, she stared into Luna’s face.
“Ehh,” Jamie didn’t know what to say.
“Are you here for the LGBTQ+ club meeting, too?” Luna asked and smiled. Her hair was wavy and she had pushed up her pink glasses to function as a headband. Jamie didn’t know that Luna was LGBTQ+, but she just nodded. “Yes, I…I don’t know, I thought…”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to worry!” Luna put a hand on Jamie’s, “We get new members all the time!”
“No, it’s just…” Jamie tried to explain.
“It’s fine, Harry!” Luna said and smiled brightly while she opened the door to the empty classroom.
“Yeah, about that…” Jamie mumbled following her into the room. Some other students were already sitting on some chairs that were lined up in the front so that everyone could sit together instead of having to sit behind the desks. Neville looked up when he saw Luna and Jamie entering the classroom.
“Hi there,” he said and waved.
“Neville, look who’s here,” she beamed and pointed to Jamie.
“Hi,” she said to Neville.
“You can just pick a seat. We’ll wait a few more minutes until everyone has arrived,” the other Gryffindor student explained.
“Come sit down with me.” Luna grabbed Jamie’s arm and pulled her over to some seats next to a Ravenclaw girl and Slytherin boy. A few other students were standing around and chatting. No one seemed to pay extra attention to Jamie, which put her at ease. She had expected that everyone would stare at her.
“So, what do you do at these meetings?” she asked Luna.
“Oh you know, we mostly just talk. Everyone can ask questions or share experiences, problems, whatever you need. Sometimes we organise trips to pride events or bigger gatherings with other wizarding lgbtq+ groups.”
“I didn’t know Hogwarts had something like that,” Jamie said.
“It’s pretty new. Neville and I had the idea after we came out to each other, not knowing that the other wasn’t straight either. We thought, maybe more students are struggling and need a support group where they can talk freely.”
“That’s such a great idea.” Jamie smiled.
“Yes, I’m happy it’s taking off. And I’m happy you’re here, Harry.” Luna patted Jamie’s hand, who took a deep breath before saying:
“Yeah, about that…that’s why I’m here.”
Luna tilted her head and looked at Jamie questioningly. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want to be called that anymore. I…I’m a girl and I kinda want to go by Jamie now.” It sounded more like a question than a statement and she anxiously awaited Luna’s reaction. The blonde witch just smiled and leaned over to hug Jamie.
“I’m so glad you came here and told me! That’s great, and I love that name. Jamie sounds really cool!” Luna said sincerely. Jamie let out a sigh and laughed with relief. She was so relieved that Luna accepted her like that. It gave her some hope that her other friends would be supportive of her as well, and she knew she had to do one more thing after the club meeting: she had to tell Ron and Hermione.
Two hours later, Jamie entered the Gryffindor common room through the portrait of the Fat Lady and looked around to find her friends sitting on one of the red sofas in front of the fireplace. Hermione’s curls had fallen into her face because she was sat with her head bent over a long piece of parchment on which she was scribbling some notes. Ron was watching her while chewing on some jelly beans. Jamie walked over to them. She had felt courageous after the club meeting went down well, but now, as she stood in front of Ron and Hermione, she was afraid. All the terrible thoughts came back. What if they ended up rejecting her? They were the first friends she had ever made, not only at Hogwarts, but in her life. Before going to Hogwarts she had never had the opportunity to really have friends and that wa why Ron and Hermione were so important to Jamie.
“Hi guys,” she said to them when she approached her friends. They looked up to her and Hermione smiled.
“There you are! We were wondering where you went.”
“Yeah,” Jamie said and looked down to her fingers that were fumbling nervously. Hermione followed her gaze.
“Is something the matter?” she asked carefully. Ron’s eyes wandered back and forth between his two friends.
“Um, so.” Jamie sighed and took a deep breath before telling Ron and Hermione about how she had felt during her time with the Dursleys, and how the feeling had gotten stronger with each day that passed, and how she had reached out to Professor McGonagall, and how she couldn’t keep it to herself anymore. “Basically, please call me Jamie now?” she ended.
For a short moment all of them were silent, but then Ron stood up and put a hand on Jamie’s back. “Of course,” he said, “Jamie. Sounds cool!”
Hermione nodded in agreement. “I like it!” She stood up from the sofa as well and walked over to Ron and Jamie to give them both a hug.
“Now I have to put up with two girls,” Ron said jokingly, which earned him a hit with the elbow from Hermione. All three of them started laughing and so they were standing in front of the fireplace in an embrace.
That day marked a turning point for Jamie, and she finally felt like everything would work out for her. It wasn’t over yet, but she felt much more confident knowing that she wasn’t alone, knowing that she had friends who would have her back – always.