Chapter Text
It was never Harry's choice to be that way, to hate every time Uncle Vernon shouted 'Boy' or newspaper articles printed 'the Boy Who Lived'. The best day of Harry's life had been turning eleven, getting a Hogwart's letter, then discovering that everyone wore dresses at school, boy or girl. Oh sure, they were called robes, but they looked like dresses and felt like dresses and even twirled a little bit like dresses.
Second year, Harry saw Draco's father for the first time, and Lucius Malfoy was the most beautiful wizard in the world, with such gorgeous long hair, and a dress that Cinderella could wear to the ball. Mr Malfoy wasn't a nice person, but Harry decided then and there on a life goal of growing hair that long. After leaving the Dursleys of course.
Third year, Harry's voice broke sometimes, and body hair began growing. It was awful. Harry was sure there were spells to take care of it, but afraid to be caught looking like a girl. Even if Harry really wanted to just... look like a girl.
Fourth year, Harry broke into Ron's trunk and swapped dress robes. The burgundy robes with hand embroidery and lace were beautiful. Harry transfigured a needle and did some repairs to make it fit, and the night of the ball, looked in the mirror.
Imagined seeing a girl wearing a beautiful gown.