It all changed when Harry found out what Draco Mal
It all changed when Harry found out what Draco Malfoy was working on. Draco had had a small apothecary, Harry knew that. He offered standard potions, a bespoke potions service, and had in recent years started to offer a range of anti-aging potions and creams that had taken the female Wizarding population by storm, the male one, too, if Draco was to be believed. Apparently all types of beauty products were the future of potion making, or at least Draco believed so.
Harry didn’t really care for potions that made his hair fuller and less grey or his skin smoother, but he liked to have a look around Draco’s apothecary every now and then. He liked to come by once a week or so, ever since he retired a few years ago. It gave him something to do, something to prevent the boredom and loneliness from taking over. It was relaxing watching Draco prepare ingredients and stir in bubbling cauldrons, he had come to quite enjoy his company. They were friends, friends who bickered and argued a lot, about absolutely everything, but friends nevertheless.
“A Knut for your thoughts,” Draco interrupted his musings.
“My life’s a mess but I like you?” Harry offered, trying to condense what he had been thinking about while watching Draco stir something bright pink.
Draco laughed. “Yeah, you’re tolerable, too, and I think your life is pretty average.”
Harry wanted to crack a joke about his life never being average but really, he was just so fucking tired of being miserable.
“Is it supposed to be that colour?” Harry asked, mostly to distract but also because he could swear the potion was starting to glitter.
“I’m trying to market it to women,” Draco explained. “It’s a Muggle thing, apparently, if it’s pink and sparkly, it’s for women.”
Harry snorted. “I’m pretty sure that’s only for little girls.”
“It’s not.” Draco protested. “I’ve done my research. Hair removal is a trend in Muggle women and all the products are pink.”
“So you’ve made a potion that removes leg hair?” Harry asked.
“Sort of,” Draco sighed. “I’m still struggling quite a bit with the changes to the recipe. Body hair and facial hair are quite different when it comes to removing them with a potion. Body hair seems to be far more difficult to target individually.”
“Right.” Harry offered, having no idea how to help with that. But Draco usually didn’t need him to help, he only needed for him to listen, ask a couple of stupid questions and then he would figure it out on his own.
“The original potion removed facial hair completely, permanently even, if desired.” Draco continued. “And it thinned out the rest of the body hair. But for women I don’t need it to do anything with the facial hair, well most of the time, but I need it to remove the body hair completely, and quite individualized. It’s just too complex a process for some reason.”
“Why not make individual potions? One for leg hair removal, one facial hair, one for uhhh…” Harry went through a mental list of his own body hair, “Arms? Hands? And so on?”
“Oh.” Draco smiled and Harry could tell he had just figured out a solution. “Wait? Hands?” he asked a moment later.
“Ummm, I have hair on my fingers?” Harry offered, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. Were people not supposed to be bothered by hair on their hands.
“I can remove it for you if you want,” Draco offered off-handedly.” But first, let me start this over.” And with that he vanished the pink glittering potion in front of them. He got a clean cauldron out and emptied in one of the large glass jugs he used to store potions he brewed in huge batches.
When he set it aside, Harry caught a glance at the label. And suddenly Harry felt his entire world shift. It was as if the floor had dropped out beneath his feet or rather as if suddenly there was a floor beneath his feet where before he had been dangling in open air.
He must have made some sort of noise because Draco was suddenly right in front of him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding incredibly worried. “You look flushed, and also pale. Do you need to sit down?”
Harry managed to nod, and let Draco guide him to a nearby chair. Harry was dimly aware that Draco was casting a series of diagnostic charms on him, rattling off questions as he went.
“Did something splatter on you? Did you inhale the fumes? Did you eat breakfast this morning? Are you allergic to anything?”
“Peanuts.” Harry attempted to answer at least one of the questions.
“You had peanuts for breakfast, or you’re allergic to them?” Draco demanded impatiently, “Or both? In which case, you are an idiot.”
“I’m allergic to peanuts, but I didn’t eat any,” Harry answered, trying to focus on Draco.
“Hmm, your blood sugar is fine, your pulse is too high, but otherwise you seem fine,” Draco mused.
“I am fine,” Harry told him. “I just—I think I realised something.”
“You realised something?” Draco repeated incredulously. “Having a realisation should not be painful, you know.”
Harry took a deep breath.
“That potion.” He gestured toward the potion base Draco had just put into the cauldron. “How does it work?”
“The hair removal potion? It removes hair.” Draco was looking at him as if he had gone insane and honestly, Harry couldn’t fault him. Maybe he had simply gone insane, that surely would be the easiest explanation, because the alternative seemed just, well, absolutely insane.
“I mean,” Harry nervously licked his lips, “because of what it says on the label.”
“Male to Female Hair Removal. The name is for internal purposes only; I, of course, don’t sell it as that.” Draco was looking at the empty jug sitting next to the cauldron. “It isn’t poisonous to ingest, if you did. You might lose a few hairs, though, but they’ll grow back in no time. It’s all non-permanent.”
“Could I try it?” Harry asked tentatively, his heart pounding a mile a minute.
“The potion?” Draco frowned.
“Yes.”
“You want your hair to fall out?” Draco sounded confused.
“Well, not the hair on my head,” Harry clarified, hoping Draco would understand.
“No, no, that’s not affected at all. In fact, there is a slight accelerant to make it grow faster. But why would you—?” Draco rambled, then trailed off. “Oh. Oh, wow. Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Harry looked anywhere but Draco’s face. He was almost certain he would be laughed at, called insane or worse. Instead Draco sounded almost gentle when he asked: “Did you just—Did you just now figure that out?”
“Yeah,” Harry answered. It was sort of true. He had known something was wrong with him, something was different. He just had never been able to place what it was, or had the words to describe it.
“That you’re trans?”
“That I’m what, now?”
“A woman?” Draco clarified.
“Yes. Maybe. I want to be?” Harry asked, unsure.
“Oh, but you already are,” Draco said softly. “The rest is just cosmetic.”
“I am,” Harry repeated. “I’m a woman.”
Harry wasn’t aware she was crying until Draco carefully wiped the tear off her face.
“You are.”
Harrys next step is to come out to her two best friends Ron and Hermione. They had been her constance through the war and through her divorce to Ginny and she knew she would need their support again as she faced the obstacles of coming out to her ex wife and her children. number of words: 3000
The air hung heavy with the scent of lavender and strange, sweet concoctions. Harry, retired Auror and former Boy-Who-Lived, felt a familiar unease settle over him. It wasn’t the usual apprehension of facing Voldemort, nor the dread of a particularly nasty Death Eater. No, this was a different kind of unease, a disquiet that gnawed at him from within.
He was in Draco Malfoy’s apothecary, a place he’d found himself visiting more and more often in recent years. Draco, surprisingly, had become a sort of anchor in Harry’s life, offering a haven from the loneliness that had taken root in the wake of his divorce. They argued, bickered, and bantered, but their friendship had blossomed in the most unexpected way.
Draco, ever the businessman, had focused his magic on the mundane. His apothecary was a bustling hub, attracting both witches and wizards with his bespoke potions and, more recently, his line of anti-aging beauty concoctions. The latter had been a particularly successful venture, fueled by the eternal quest for youth and allure.
Harry, however, never saw the appeal. He’d never felt the need to fight the passage of time, the lines that etched themselves on his face, the silver that threaded its way through his hair. He found comfort in the stories those marks told, the battles they bore witness to.
Today, though, Draco’s latest potion, a shimmering pink brew, had caught Harry’s eye.
“A Knut for your thoughts,” Draco teased, catching Harry staring at the cauldron with a mixture of curiosity and confusion.
“My life’s a mess, but I like you,” Harry offered, trying to make light of the swirling thoughts in his mind.
Draco laughed. “Yeah, you’re tolerable too, and I think your life is pretty average.”
Harry wanted to retort with a sarcastic quip, but the words died in his throat. He felt weary, tired of the gnawing unease that had been a constant companion for years.
“Is it supposed to be that color?” Harry asked, a question meant to distract himself, yet revealing the unsettling truth he was trying to ignore.
“It’s a Muggle thing,” Draco explained, stirring the potion with a practiced hand. “Pink and sparkly, it’s marketed to women. Apparently, hair removal is all the rage.”
“So, you’ve made a potion that removes leg hair?” Harry asked, his voice dry.
“Sort of,” Draco sighed. “It’s a bit tricky. Body hair is more complex than facial hair. I need to target individual hairs, but it’s a real challenge.”
“Why not make individual potions? One for leg hair, one for facial hair, one for… ” Harry trailed off, the absurdity of the thought sending a shiver down his spine. “Arms? Hands?”
“Oh,” Draco said, a smile spreading across his face. “Wait, hands?”
“Well, I have hair on my fingers,” Harry mumbled, his face flushing crimson.
“I can remove it for you if you want,” Draco offered, his voice casual, yet the words sent a jolt of something through Harry, a strange mixture of fear and desire.
“But first,” Draco continued, dismissing the offer with a wave of his wand, “let me start this over.”
As Draco vanished the potion, Harry caught a glimpse of the label. The words, etched in emerald ink, struck him like a bolt of lightning: “Male to Female Hair Removal.”
The floor seemed to tilt beneath him, and a wave of dizziness washed over him.
“Are you okay?” Draco asked, his concern evident in his voice. “You look pale. Do you need to sit down?”
Harry nodded, feeling disoriented. He needed to sit, needed to grasp onto something solid, something to ground him in this sudden shift in reality.
Draco guided him to a chair, his concern deepening with each passing moment. “Did something splatter on you? Did you inhale the fumes? Are you allergic to anything?”
“Peanuts,” Harry managed, his voice weak.
“You had peanuts for breakfast, or you’re allergic to them?” Draco pressed. “Or both? In which case, you are an idiot.”
“I’m allergic, but I didn’t eat any,” Harry clarified, trying to focus.
“Hmm, your blood sugar is fine, your pulse is too high, but otherwise you seem fine,” Draco mused.
“I’m fine,” Harry said, his voice shaky. “I just… I think I realised something.”
“You realised something?” Draco repeated, his eyebrows furrowed. “Having a realisation shouldn’t be painful, you know.”
Harry took a deep breath. “That potion,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper, “how does it work?”
“The hair removal potion? It removes hair.” Draco looked at him as if he’d lost his mind, and, honestly, Harry wasn’t sure he hadn’t.
“Because of what it says on the label,” Harry clarified, his heart pounding in his chest.
“Male to Female Hair Removal. The name is for internal purposes only. I don’t advertise it as that, of course,” Draco explained.
“Could I try it?” Harry asked, the words spilling out of him, desperate, hopeful.
“The potion?” Draco frowned.
“Yes.”
“You want your hair to fall out?” Draco sounded bewildered.
“Not the hair on my head,” Harry clarified, his voice gaining strength with each word.
“No, no, that’s not affected. In fact, there is a slight accelerant to make it grow faster. But why would you-?” Draco trailed off, his eyes widening. “Oh. Oh, wow. Fuck.”
“Yeah,” Harry whispered, his eyes downcast. He was almost certain he was about to be laughed at, dismissed as delusional. Instead, Draco’s voice was gentle when he asked: “Did you just… Did you just now figure that out?”
“Yeah,” Harry choked out, the truth finally bursting forth. He had known something was wrong, something was different. He had just never had the words, the understanding, to grasp it.
“That you’re trans?” Draco asked, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and understanding.
“That I’m what, now?” Harry asked, the unfamiliar word swirling in her mind.
“A woman?” Draco clarified, his eyes soft.
“Yes. Maybe. I want to be?” Harry asked, uncertainty creeping into her voice.
“Oh, but you already are,” Draco said softly. “The rest is just cosmetic.”
“I am,” Harry repeated, the words tasting sweet on her tongue. “I’m a woman.”
A tear rolled down her cheek, a single drop that mirrored the vastness of her emotions.
“You are,” Draco whispered, his hand reaching out to gently wipe the tear away.
The world had shifted, the ground beneath her feet suddenly firm. She was a woman, and the journey had just begun.
