Chapter Text
The Dursleys of Number 4 Privet Drive were proud of how normal they were. They had a normal house with a normal yard in a normal neighbourhood in a normal part of the country. Vernon Dursley had a normal job. Petunia Dursley was a normal, nosy housewife. Dudley attended a normal school.
To any normal outsider, normal was the only word to describe the family and their home. Of course, the other resident of Number 4 Privet Drive was anything but normal.
Harry Potter was a student at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. To others in the magical world, Harry Potter was considered an unexceptional wizard who happened to have something exceptional happen on October 31 of 1981. That is, they thought this up until this last year, when Harry’s name had come out of the Goblet of Fire and forced her to compete in a deadly magical tournament. Now, she was seen as some sort of lunatic attention-seeker, thanks to the efforts of Rita Skeeter, though the witch herself wasn’t writing any more, others had taken up the story of Harry Potter’s instability.
That’s right, dear reader, I said ‘her’ and ‘she’, for Harry Potter had a secret she had never revealed to anyone since she suggested the idea at six years of age to her aunt Petunia. The beating she had received had driven the point home that there was no way to be a girl as she wanted. Then, on her eleventh birthday, she was given hope when the magical world was revealed to her.
Once the initial wonder of the world had worn off some, and with a nudge from a peculiar magical mirror, she had dived headfirst into everything she could get her hands on to change herself to match who she truly felt she was.
Human Transfiguration, especially permanent Human Transfiguration, was highly advanced, but Harry was highly motivated. When puberty started hitting just before her second year, she knew she couldn’t bear to go through it as a boy, and her efforts redoubled. The first answer came from Potions, of all things.
The Hormonal Balance Potion, or Puberty Blocker Potion as she liked to call it, was obscure, and she’d only happened upon it by chance in an old book in a hidden corner of Flourish and Blotts. It was apparently used to counter curses that resulted in hormonal imbalances. The ingredients, surprisingly, were incredibly common, but almost never used together, and the brewing process itself was well within her capabilities even after the poor instruction of Snape.
Blocking puberty could only work so far, of course, and she often caught herself staring with envy at the other girls in her year as they developed.
The breakthrough she needed had come in the summer before her third year, as she had spent some weeks in Diagon Alley after blowing up her aunt. She had been bowled over by a random person being chased by some Aurors. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the person, and had shaken it off and resolved to pay more attention from now on. When she got back to the Leaky Cauldron, however, she had found a book in her bag that she did not remember.
The book was full of rituals, banned by the British Ministry as ‘dark’, which could be used to mould the human body in various ways. Most of them, admittedly, she would never consider, and seemed more likely to be used for torture. One ritual stood out to her, the Sex Change Ritual. It was complicated and much of it flew over her head, but she was sure she could figure it out.
Third year was busy for her, not only because of her godfather escaping and all the drama surrounding it, but also because she was researching as much as she could. The hardest part was keeping it all secret.
If Hermione hadn’t been so overworked by her courseload, she might have noticed the amount of time Harry was spending in the library. If Ron hadn’t been so preoccupied with Pettigrew pretending to be Scabbers, Harry wouldn’t have had as many opportunities to slip away. As it was, she made far more progress than she expected, but less than she had hoped by the end of third year.
She continued taking the Puberty Blocker Potion through the disaster that was fourth year. She’d had less time due to the Tournament than she’d had in third year, but had made just as much progress. At her current rate, she hoped to attempt the ritual over the next Christmas Holidays, on Yule. If that didn’t work out, she’d have to wait until May 1, Beltane.
Figuring out the dates had been the project for this summer, once her regular summer homework was done. When she had finally bothered looking into it, she had been amazed at everything she was never told about the magical world. All the traditions and family magic was completely new to her, and she loved it.
Her understanding of the significance of the various holidays was barely beyond beginner level, for the most part, but she felt much more connection to them than she had to the muggle holidays, like Christmas or especially Halloween. Somehow, thinking of the date of her parents’ deaths as Samhain instead felt right, like she could actually connect with them on some level.
This research led to other rabbit-holes, and she was quickly coming to the realisation that her previous attitude had alienated many, so it actually made sense that only those who were extremely opposed to traditions, like the Weasleys, had befriended her before.
Now, however, she was concerned. She hadn’t been to Diagon yet this summer, and her ‘friends’ had refused to tell her anything that was going on. September 1 was only a week away, and she resolved to take the Knight Bus today if she hadn’t heard anything, which of course she hadn’t.
At this point, she was also resolved that the Sorting Hat was right. She would have done well in Slytherin. The guidance of peers who understood magical traditions would have been wonderful, and her Gryffindorish bull-headedness had only caused her trouble in the past.
From now on, she would think things through. Voldemort was back, but the majority of the magical world, thanks to the Prophet, denied it. The ‘duel’ in the graveyard was humbling. She had stood no chance against him, and she was sick of it. Every bloody year, she had to face the creep. Every year, she had to almost die. This year, she would keep her head down and learn everything she could. She had even decided to quit Quidditch. She couldn’t afford the distraction.
Once the Knight Bus reached the Leaky Cauldron, she slipped into a bathroom and cast a quick colour changing charm on her hair, turning it a light brown. It was amazing how a small change like that was enough to go unnoticed by most people. She’d also let her hair grow out more over the summer, and it was now down to her shoulder blades. Her prepubescent body was enough to look like perhaps a third year girl to the casual observer.
Now properly disguised, she made her way to Gringotts, where she was surprised to be escorted to a meeting with her account manager.
“Mister Potter, I assume based on your demeanour you have not been receiving our letters?”
Harry frowned and grit her teeth, “No, I haven’t. Why would that have happened?”
The goblin, Rotfang, waved a hand dismissively, “Most likely your former guardian had a mail-redirect ward placed on you.”
Harry couldn’t imagine the Dursleys even considering doing such a thing. Stealing her mail, sure, but using magic to do so was impossible.
“Er - my guardians are muggles. How would they have done that?”
Rotfang narrowed his eyes at her, “Were you not informed that Albus Dumbledore was your guardian?”
Harry’s eyes widened and she tensed, “No, I was not.”
Rotfang sighed and muttered something in his language.
“Mister Potter, your muggle relatives have never been your legal guardians. Since November 1, 1981, Albus Dumbledore had been your guardian until October 31, 1994, when you were magically emancipated. We, of course, immediately dispatched a letter to you informing you of this, but never received a reply. If you would like, Gringotts can remove any mail redirect ward for a small fee.”
“How much?”
“A paltry sum of 50 galleons. Not even a dent in the contents of your vaults.”
Harry’s ire continued to increase. Just when was Dumbledore planning to tell her all this?
“How many vaults do I have?”
“You have access to your family vault, heirloom vault, and trust vault.”
Heirloom vault ‽ All these years, she’d had nothing from her parents or ancestors, and here there was apparently a vault full of things in Gringotts.
“Can you remove the ward without Dumbledore noticing?”
“Unlikely. Your fame means you have been sent letters frequently. If he has been receiving them for some time, their absence will be noticed quickly.”
Harry grit her teeth again as she began to form a plan in her head.
“Keep it for now. For the time being, I’d like to visit my heirloom vault, then pick up some money to purchase school supplies.”
Rotfang had her sign a form to formalise her taking control of her vaults, which the goblins would file surreptitiously with the ministry, and Harry was quickly led to her heirloom vault.
It was far more than she had expected. So much furniture, clothing, jewellery, books, and many wands from generations of Potters before her. Griphook, who had been a surprising familiar face, had suggested she take the head of house ring, which at first looked far too big and clunky to fit on her fingers. It had quickly resized itself and even reshaped to a more feminine design on her finger, drawing a quirked eyebrow from the goblin.
“You can will it to be invisible. Simply will it to be visible again when you want others to see it, Lady Potter.”
A rush of fear rippled through her, but she doubted the goblin would out her, and she quickly followed his recommendation. She then picked out a few of the more interesting-looking family books and told Griphook she was ready to leave.
With a pouch full of coins, she made short work of gathering her school supplies, though there was no book for Defence. She supposed Dumbledore had again had difficulty hiring a teacher for the position. The books she actually already had, after purchasing up to fifth-year material back before third year. She mostly restocked Potions ingredients and writing supplies.
Upon her return to Privet Drive, she sequestered herself in her room until September 1 or someone came to get her early.