Chapter Text
~~~~~Johanna Potter~~~~~
III: Preparations Made
~~~~~Johanna Potter~~~~~
August 18th, 1991
Leaky Cauldron - Second Floor, Room 214
To Professor McGonagall,
I apologize for the short notice, however I realized that I neglected to inform you about some important information.
I know my name is legally still Harry James Potter and I am marked as a boy, however things have changed. I underwent a bout of accidental magic that transformed my body into a girl's some two weeks ago, and also my gender identity is agender - or rather, neither masculine nor feminine nor anything inbetween or otherwise. I'm told it's a bit like how constructs and puppets treat gender.
I have also chosen a new name and manner of address, and would appreciate it if they could be used. Mx. or Mistrum Johanna Tabitha Potter. Thank you for your help.
Yours,
Johanna Tabitha Potter
P.S. I had to use a Dicta-pen for the writing since writing by hand is extremely uncomfortable and even painful sometimes. Will that be allowed at school?
Tying the letter to Hedwig’s leg took a bit, but soon her owl was taking off with the message to McGonagall that would hopefully not irk the woman too badly.
Jo sighed and removed her glasses, letting them hang from their chain. Two weeks. She'd been there for two weeks, and it felt like her questions were multiplying by the day.
She'd sorted out everything on the shopping list, at least. About the only exceptions were makeup that wasn't nail polish since she'd chickened out of asking for help and jewelry since she'd been completely paralyzed by the idea. But otherwise… Well, she had a full trunk. She was just grateful that it had enough compartments for everything she had bought.
She took a sip of her water bottle, looking thoughtfully at her trunk. She'd started on her books and struggled about as much as she expected with the reading. Lots of going back over lines, losing her place, and misreading as per usual. Still, she'd made a bit of progress on a few of her textbooks, and what she'd learned was… Well, concerning.
As best she could tell, magic was indeed intent-oriented here. At the same time, the first couple chapters of the Thaumaturgy textbook mostly discussed accidental magic - maybe to try and strike a chord with kids and get them to think about how they felt when it happened? She couldn't be certain. Still, what she did learn explained some odd occurrences over the last couple weeks.
For one, if she got stressed or frustrated, storm clouds started to appear around her. It freaked her out the first time it happened, but now whenever she was sufficiently frustrated her magic started to coalesce into dark clouds around her that thundered and had lightning crackle amidst themselves. It would've been cool if it didn't feel like her emotions were on full display. At least the usual array of clouds caused by her stress weren't prone to ominous thundering.
And she definitely meant emotions as plural. Someone had complimented her the other day and she'd just outright disappeared! Completely invisible, not even a waver. Why? She'd been flustered, of course. Apparently if she got embarrassed she went invisible. Great.
And then she'd gotten extremely sad and upset… More than once, if she was honest. Losing her entire old life wasn't exactly an easy thing to cope with. So. As a result, clouds had formed and began snowing. In the middle of August. Alright then, that was something else.
Right now she was… Mostly stable, she guessed. Though the newspapers she'd been getting thanks to a monthly subscription to the Prophet weren't exactly helping. Being the center of attention was not a pleasant experience for Jo. At all. Gods but Hogwarts was going to be torture in that regard, wasn't it? Especially if she kept having her moods on full display. Ugh.
As it stood, the Prophet was mostly theorizing what House she'd be in - that was how she'd learned Jamie was a Hufflepuff while Lily was a Gryffindor. Again, more like her own worldbuilding than the original. Though there was also a bit about her choice in wardrobe, and it seemed… Decently respectful, which heartened her a bit.
Her stomach growled at her and she sighed. She'd not gotten up for breakfast and it was an hour past the time she most often got lunch. Tom would worry if she waited much longer - she'd learned that the first time she skipped the two meals. Evidently her usual aversion to food wasn't something he liked to see, though she guessed it was because she was still a kid.
After Jo pushed herself to her feet she picked up her purse. She'd gotten one mostly for convenience if she was honest. It was less awkward than keeping things in her pockets anyway. It had her wand, notebook, some pens, noise-dampening headphones, vault key, some hair ties, and a few other odds and ends.
She slipped her glasses back on, grimacing a bit. They were a perfect prescription, which was good, but it was disorienting to just have them throw some spells at her face and then have her glasses ready within a day. It was also a bit interesting to learn that since her lenses were actually made of enchanted crystal - artificially pure quartz - they'd been able to fit it with an anti-scratch charm, an anti-break charm, an anti-smudge charm, and a water-repelling charm. She still had to wipe them clean of any dust or whatever, but honestly having constantly clean glasses was a blessing.
Then she looked at her forearm crutches and sighed.
She'd deliberated for an hour before deciding she still wanted to be on her feet, so she'd gone with forearm crutches. They'd taken some getting used to, but she appreciated them… And also felt embarrassed at both how much they helped and how she wished they could do more. She knew… she knew that a wheelchair was probably for the best. She'd known that a wheelchair was for the best for some time now. But now that she was confronted with the actual choice… It was hard to actually make the leap, so she'd gone with something in the middle.
With a bit of grumbling that was probably indicative of some internalized ableism she still needed to work on, she slipped her arms through the cuffs and made her way out of her room and down the hall.
Look, she could be as self-aware as she wanted. Didn't mean her mind was going to be especially co-operative on actually improving a whole lot. Such was life.
Getting down the stairs using the crutches would normally be absolutely terrifying since she couldn't grip the railing for her balance, so she just held them both under her right arm and used her left to brace herself on the railing while descending. Once again, something Tom didn't like, though at least with this one he'd accepted her reasoning when she explained why she did it.
She got to the bottom and was about to head to her usual seat when she noticed with some surprise that someone else was there - another girl about the same… physical age as her, at least. She worried at her lip a bit. Should she try to make friends…?
The girl turned before Jo could make a decision, tilted her head a bit, and then her eyes widened and she said something to what Jo could only assume was her father in what was definitely Mandarin. About the only reason she recognized it was due to taking a semester of the language, though. Well, that and the accent.
“Mister… Potter?” Asked the father. Jo didn't blame his confusion. Her hair was put in a ponytail, she had a headband holding back the bangs, and she was wearing her pink long-sleeve today. Not exactly a traditionally masculine outfit.
“It's Mx., please. Or Mistrum,” Jo replied with a smile. She hummed a little. “Johanna, by the way. That's my chosen name.”
“Ah, I see,” the man said, his confusion clearing. “I'm Zhou Míngzé, and this is my daughter, Zhou Qiū.”
“It's nice to meet you,” Qiū greeted Jo with a bit of an awkward duck of the head.
“It's nice to meet you both as well, Mister Zhou, Miss Zhou,” Jo greeted them with a smile.
“Ah. Um… Qiū is fine,” the girl in question said a bit clumsily.
“Then you can call me Jo,” the other one said with a grin. “Ah. Is it okay if I sit here with you? I haven't had lunch yet today and I usually sit around here.”
“You haven't eaten anything yet, Jo,” Tom corrected as he stepped over and fixed her with a stern look.
Jo squirmed, wincing a bit. “Ah… well, in my defense, I had to send a letter to McGonagall?” She offered feebly.
Tom sighed and shook his head before pulling out a menu and setting it on the counter to Qiū’s left, opposite her dad. He grumbled something about ‘stubborn kids’ and Jo flushed but sat up, resting her crutches between her legs to keep them safe. Realistically nobody would take them, but her paranoia needed comforting.
“You… You didn't eat anything today? But you're so tiny!” Qiū said, sounding genuinely concerned.
Jo shrugged a bit, opening her menu. “It's… I've got focus issues, that's all. I forget,” she lied. It was way more than that, but she had to remind herself these were strangers, and also she was pretty sure ARFID wasn't an official diagnosis yet, and also also it would be strange for a kid to know they have two eating disorders and be so self-aware.
Thank the gods for logical thought. Without that she'd never be able to pull off hiding her reincarnation. Not that she expected to hide it forever, but still.
“Huh… Um, so you're starting Hogwarts this year, right?” Qiū asked excitedly.
“Ah… Yeah,” Jo agreed. She took a brief moment to tell Tom she'd like the chicken strips and ‘chips’ - she really needed to get used to Britannian mannerisms and terms, oh boy. He jotted her order down and headed off to send the slip to the kitchen.
“Any idea which House you'll be in?” Qiū asked hopefully.
“Qiū’s a Ravenclaw,” Mister Zhou said with pride. “She's a year above you, so if you become one as well you can ask her for help.”
“Bába…”
Mister Zhou chuckled and patted Qiū’s back while she blushed a bit. For her part, Jo smothered the envy she felt. Having a good family was a good thing - stop being jealous. Gods, but she was such a stupid bitch.
“I'm not sure,” Jo said, ignoring her internal dialogue. “I think as long as it's not Gryffindor I'd be happy.”
Mister Zhou seemed surprised. “Not Gryffindor? But… Wasn't your mother one? Wouldn't you be proud to follow in her footsteps?” He asked, frowning.
“I’m… Not like her,” Jo said carefully, ensuring she didn't refer to Lily as her ‘mom’. She didn't exactly feel like she had the right - and besides, the term was sort of poisoned for her anyway. “Plus, if I'm Gryffindor I'll just be in her shadow. Same for Hufflepuff, if I'm honest. I… I want to be my own person. Besides, I'm not really Gryffindor material.”
“Oh…” Qiū frowned. “But there's all those books about you…”
Jo suppressed a grimace. “Best not to believe everything you read,” she said simply. Qiū was a kid, she wouldn't blame the girl for not knowing better - though when Mister Zhou also seemed a bit chagrined, she couldn't help feeling a tiny bit disappointed. Seriously, she was (physically) eleven. What in the world could she have possibly accomplished before now? Wait, he didn't seriously think she'd been the one to defeat Voldemort, right?
She rubbed her nose to distract herself from how badly she wanted to pinch it in exasperation.
“May I ask why you're at the Leaky instead of with your family?” Mister Zhou asked. “I noticed you came from upstairs–”
“No buttin’ into people's private lives, Zhou,” Tom said as he strode over, setting a plate of food in front of Jo, who gave him a tiny smile. “Do we need to have a talk or are you going to let her be without me breathin’ down your neck?”
Jo poked at her food a bit, waiting for the hushed discussion that then started between the two men to end. She could, unfortunately thanks to her hyperacusis, hear it with total clarity. Mister Zhou was concerned and thought Tom was irresponsible while Tom was defending Jo’s right to privacy as an individual and as his patron.
“You okay?” Qiū asked next to her, taking only a brief glance at her Dad and Tom - who'd stepped aside - before looking back at Jo.
“Mmm… Just don't like being talked about,” Jo admitted, slowly working on the fri– chips. Gods, she hated the English language. “It's… A thing. I hate attention.”
“That's… Huh… Don't think I've met someone who hates attention,” Qiū murmured.
Jo shrugged. “I'm not normal,” she said dismissively. She hummed, realizing she'd been the main topic of the conversation. She didn't like that one bit. “How was your first year of classes?”
Qiū immediately lit up. “It was nice! I had a lot of fun learning from the Professors, though it's too bad Professor Martin had to retire,” she said, sounding a bit dejected. “He taught DAMA. He's a nice guy, but he was older. Everyone says the position’s cursed.” She shuddered at the thought and performed a gesture Jo could only imagine was maybe some kind of ward.
“Ah. Hm… How do curses work?” Jo asked curiously. She knew most magic systems often considered something a curse if it had malign origins or no beneficial applications, but that was a narrow viewpoint in her opinion. All magic had beneficial applications in the right circ*mstances - even an instant death spell could be a method of euthanasia.
“I don't know,” Qiū admitted with a shrug. Jo stifled a giggle in part by taking a bite, but apparently she wasn't successful. “Hey! I'm just saying that the others say it's cursed,” she said a bit petulantly.
Jo grinned, humming as she took a bite of one of the tenders. Normally she had them with ketchup but had gone with plain today since she knew the chefs liked to add seasoning. It was a bit spicy but in the way English people usually applied spices, meaning she barely noticed it.
“Most likely it's linked to something,” Jo mused. “Maybe the wards?”
“Wh… What? How do you…?” Qiū asked, faltering.
“It's just a guess,” Jo said with a disarming smile. “I've been reading my books a bit, so I really have no idea. I'm probably wrong.” Not really, but letting a twelve year old realize she's got an extremely solid natural grasp on magic would just be a bit mean. And also dangerous to her whole reincarnation secret. That too.
“Oh. Right, that's fair. Still, pretty good guess,” Qiū said with a bright smile. “Roger says the same thing, actually, and he's a genius.”
“Roger?” Jo asked. Did she mean Roger Davies?
“Oh, right. His name's Roger Davies.” Huh. She did. “He's a couple years above me. Fourth year. He's really smart, actually - and a good duellist. I think he's in Germany this summer to participate in the junior’s circuit,” Qiū said, sounding excited.
Jo couldn't blame her. A duelling circuit? That could be something worth checking out, if she was honest. Hmm.
Mister Zhou then came over with a bit of a tight expression, and rather quickly bade Jo goodbye before ushering Qiū out in very rushed Mandarin that Jo could barely catch a word from, not that she had a clue what he was saying. Qiū argued back a bit but seemed to quickly concede.
“Bye, Jo. I’ll see you at Hogwarts,” Qiū said a bit sadly as she turned and waved a bit.
“Bye, Qiū. I'll see you there,” Jo replied. The other girl smiled and then left with her father, who gave Jo a bit of a terse glance that seemed both concerned and kind of strict. Huh. Maybe he disapproved of her being there alone? That was her best guess.
…That was going to gnaw at her later, she knew. She decided to focus on finishing her food in the meantime. She didn't have the energy to think about Mister Zhou and his beliefs. Even if she wasn't physically, mentally she had the agency of an adult. She could be safe!
…She hoped.
The rest of her lunch was a fairly quiet affair until she finished eating, paid, bade Tom a good afternoon, and returned to her room.
Sometimes she really hated having to socialize. She always seemed to make mistakes.
August 21st, 1991
Leaky Cauldron - Second Floor, Room 214
She'd not been able to sleep. Restless legs, her mortal enemy.
So she was mostly lying in bed, trying and failing to read by the light of the lamp on her bedside table, while also bouncing her knees against each other. At least the fuzzy rabbit-themed pajama pants were a pleasant texture. That was something.
She frowned when she felt… something to her left and turned. She saw Hedwig was on her perch, and tapped her wand to the wall lamp above, causing it to bathe the room in a warm orange light that also revealed the several dark storm clouds above Jo. She rolled her eyes and slipped out of bed, striding over to Hedwig. “Hello, sweetie. Did Professor McGonagall send a reply?” She asked.
Hedwig chirped while Jo scratched the top of her head before turning to look at the table, upon which an envelope rested with her chosen name on it. The string attached to the top-left corner was broken. Jo snorted. Clearly Hedwig didn't want to have it on her leg for long. That made her idly wonder if owls had unpleasant textures as well.
She put the thought out of her mind and picked up the letter. One broken seal later and she was reading McGonagall’s response while trying not to think about the fact she'd sent a letter to one of her literal favorite char— people and gotten an actual, real life response. Aware of the author and series’ problems or not, she ultimately still loved what the world could have been - and this one she was in certainly felt like that.
Mistrum Potter,
While I will appreciate it if you could try to provide such notices sooner, it will be no issue to make the appropriate adjustments. The staff shall be informed of your preferred identity.
Due to the change to your physical body I will inform the school’s Brownies to prepare a room in the girl’s dorms of whichever House you are Sorted into. At present there are no unisex dorms - a change we have been working at for some time yet have not yet achieved. Until such a time, we wish for you to dorm with the girls due to your body, unless you have a preference otherwise or would be taking hormone potions for a masculine puberty - if you are, please send a reply informing me of such before the start of term, or simply inform me once you come to a decision.
Regarding your postscript, it will not be an issue if you need to make use of Dicta-line writing utensils. We are accustomed to making such allowances for the benefit of our disabled students. If there are any other questions you have or disabilities you are aware of, please inform me at your earliest convenience.
Thank you for your correspondence,
Minerva McGonagall
Well, that was pretty to the point. Not that Jo minded that, she supposed. Still… She worried at her lip a bit regarding the last bit. Other disabilities…
She sighed, rubbing the side of her nose and grumbling to herself.
Her friends would've probably told her to mention… Basically everything. Autism, ADHD, etcetera. Hel, they'd probably tell her to take that page from her notebook where she'd written everything down and copy it into a letter or something. She grumbled a bit more because she knew they were probably right.
She hated being responsible. It f*cking sucked.
She set the letter onto the desk and walked over to her nightstand to pick up her glasses, sliding them on and reattaching the chain before looking for her notebook. Hedwig hooted at her. “Look, I can't sleep anyway so I might as well at least write the response.” Another hoot. “You don't have to take it to her right away, Hedwig.” A more indignant hoot. “Yeesh, alright, alright.”
She sighed upon finding the notebook and flipped it to the right page, grimacing when she briefly saw the list of yearly issues and felt a headache mount. The next seven years… even before this whole soul transference/reincarnation deal that would've been a third of her life. Gods…
She tossed the notebook onto the desk and groaned when it fell to the floor. Of course. She strode over, picked it up, thought unkind thoughts about her heart when she got dizzy when standing back up, and set it on the desk properly before looking for some parchment.
Hedwig hooted again. “Yes, I’m going to tell her about my crap.” Another hoot. “...Probably? I don't want to overwhelm her. I'll deal with the big stuff. Besides, I've got the crutches and headphones. They'll help.” A doubtful hoot. Since when could owls sound doubtful? “Hedwig, please. I've got a lot on my plate as it stands. I have to save the entire Witching World numerous times across the greater part of a decade. I don't have time to worry about myself.” Hedwig was quiet after that.
Jo sighed and strode over to the owl, gently stroking the side of her head while Hedwig looked at her forlornly. What had she done to deserve such a kind companion?
“It's okay, Hedwig. I'll be okay. It'll just… Be a while,” she said softly. “Once Voldemort is gone, you and I can settle down somewhere quiet, okay? I'll relax then.”
Hedwig gently butted her head against Jo’s forehead and the girl smiled, gently patting the owl’s side before she lowered her hand. “Alright. Time to write a letter. Let's see…”
Hello Professor McGonagall,
Thank you for your understanding regarding my identity. The girl’s dorms will be fine, I don't have a problem with that for now.
Regarding my disabilities, there are a few I am aware of.
This is where she stopped dictating for a moment. She shouldn't write too much, should she? She was aware of her issues to the extent an adult who'd been working on identifying and addressing them for nearly three years would be. But ‘Johanna Potter’ was an eleven year old girl who’d been sheltered - perhaps abusively, but still sheltered - for most of her life. She logically shouldn't know much. She had to be careful with what she shared.
Maybe not the autism and ADHD - those required psychiatric diagnoses that probably weren't very accessible. Plus, McGonagall had watched the Dursleys for an entire day at minimum. She had to know or guess they'd never believe in psychiatry.
She let out a huff. Physical disabilities it was, then. Or at least the things she could address…
I've been struggling with balance and leg strength for a while no matter what I do. At someone's suggestion, I purchased some forearm crutches. They've been a great help. I shouldn't have much of an issue thanks to these, but I figured it would be good to let you know.
I've also been getting upset by loud noises or too many at once. I've gotten some noise-dampening headphones and they help, but sometimes understanding what people are saying - with or without them - is difficult. I don't know if anything can be done for that? Sorry.
Other than that there's just my bad eyes. I went to a specialist though, and they gave me special glasses with a chain. So that's fine. I don't know if that's something you needed to know about. Sorry if this isn't important.
Yours,
Johanna Potter
The apologies had kind of slipped out before she could stop them, and she considered crossing them out manually before stopping herself. A kid her age probably would apologize for inconveniencing adults… Uh, right? sh*t, she didn't know. Frankly she didn't know crap about how kids her physical age behaved. She'd be copying others a lot, huh?
She sighed and decided not to worry about it, just bouncing her legs to tire them out while the ink dried. The time said it was half past one. Crud. She'd been able to get to bed consistently around midnight before. Guess not anymore. Oops.
“...I’m going to Hogwarts in a week and a half, Hedwig,” Jo murmured. Her owl hooted. “Yeah, I know. I can't believe it either… Heh. Only took fourteen years to get my letter. No biggie.” Hedwig tilted her head and Jo shrugged. She supposed it shouldn't have come as a surprise that the owl wouldn't get a joke from the twenty-first century. Oops.
She shut her notebook, deciding she should probably at least try and get some sleep. After folding up her letter as neatly as she was able - her hands took a minute to cooperate - and putting it inside an envelope, she added the addresses. “Do you want to take it now or wait until you've had some rest?” She asked Hedwig. The owl hooted and nestled comfortably atop her perch. Rest it was.
She grunted while pushing herself to her feet and returned her glasses to their spot atop the nightstand, chain and all. As she turned off the lights and clambered into bed, she couldn't help wondering about who she would meet, now that she'd traded letters with McGonagall of all ch— people.
People. She had to remember that. This was her new real world. It wasn't like the stories that she wrote - she didn't have the slightest degree of control over what happened. She was just… Well. It would be more apt to describe her as a character herself, in a story. Except real.
“Talk about an immersive experience,” she joked to herself, chuckling even as her legs began to crawl so she changed how she was lying down so she could rock her hips back and forth to try and soothe them. “Huh… I wonder if I’ll meet any of the ones I ‘created’...”
Katrina Insom, Mona Blush, and Frederick Grapelock were among the likeliest options she'd meet. Maybe Etoile as well…? But she also had no idea how much of this world matched her own works and much matched the original. Now she couldn't help wondering how many characters would look more like the original and how many would look like her own… Qiū had seemed maybe somewhere in-between? And she had the name Jo herself used rather than the original’s author… Hm…
Slowly, her thoughts dragged her away from her body and into a deep sleep.
