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Albus Severus Potter was named after two of the greatest men her father ever knew. This was a fact she had known her entire life. Al didn’t have issues with living up to the legacies of her namesakes, like many of her siblings and cousins did. The problem wasn’t that she was afraid of not growing up to be a great man; the problem was that she wasn’t a man.
Three weeks after her ninth birthday, Albus waited until her brother and sister fell asleep and walked down the stairs in her Holyhead Harpies pajamas to find her parents curled up on the couch.
“Albus?” her mother said, sitting up. Al stood in front of her famous parents, unsure of what to say. Her lip quivered.
“What’s wrong, son?” Harry asked. “Did you have a bad dream?” Al shook her head.
“I- I think I’m a girl.”
Ginny and Harry were always supportive of their daughter. It was a shock and an adjustment, but they loved her as much as they had when they thought she was a boy. That night, Ginny asked if Albus wanted to go by a different name. Al faltered. She said she was comfortable with the name she was born with and didn’t want to change it.
By the time Albus boarded the Hogwarts Express two years later, the entire Potter-Weasley clan had grown accustomed to using she/her pronouns to refer to her, and she had fully accepted who she was. However, the nurturing environment found at home and at the houses of every aunt, uncle, and grandparent was a stark comparison to her first months at Hogwarts.
Professor McGonagall did everything in her power to make Al feel welcome at school, but it wasn’t always enough. Despite being treated appropriately by the staff, the other girls in Al’s dorm made their discontent with sharing their room with a “fake girl” very clear. It wouldn’t have been so bad if Al wasn’t isolated in Slytherin. James and Rose wanted to protect her, but he was in Gryffindor, and she was a Ravenclaw, so Albus was often left to fend for herself. For years, she regretted letting the Sorting Hat put her in Slytherin. It wasn’t until she was sixteen and listening to her Uncle Ron go on one of his many rants about his time at school and the terribleness of Slytherins that Al finally stood up for her house and claimed it as her own. (Ron’s face turned bright red after being told off, while her mum, dad, and aunt, Hermione, looked quite proud.)
Nonetheless, Al got through her first few years of school using a combination of bitter cynicism, secret rendezvous with Rose after hours, and a regular supply of encouraging letters from her parents and Teddy.
***
Dear Al,
I’m sure you will be glad to hear that Vic and I are extremely miserable in this goddamn frozen wasteland. I know what you’re thinking, and I too do not understand why we have to stay here when we are fucking wizards who know how to fucking Apparate but apparently living here is “part of the experience” or something. I don’t know anything except that we’ll be back around the time schools ends, so I expect a very warm welcome home party to which your attendance is mandatory.
On a more serious note, Harry told me you’re still having problems with some other kids. If anyone in this giant, messed up family of ours understands being bullied, it’s me. So let me give you the only piece of advice that got me through seven years of teenage angst: remember that they are shit, but you are everything.
Love always,
Teddy
***
The truth was that Al could handle being stared at by first years, whispered about by members of all houses, and ignored by half of her roommates. As long as she had Rose (and, eventually, Scorpius), she could let go of the rest. The only problem was her name.
She hated it. No matter how hard she tried to convince herself that names were gender neutral, she still cringed internally every time someone called her Albus. She had never told anyone how much she loathed her name; even Rose thought she preferred being called Al. She wanted desperately to tell someone, but everyone she could think of was either too young or too close to her to understand. The answer came to her fourth year, on a Thursday afternoon. As the rest of her classmates left to begin the walk back the the castle, Al lingered until she was alone with the professor. She made her way towards the front of the greenhouse, heart beating rapidly.
“Prof- Neville?”
Neville looked up suddenly, confused at being called by his first name by a student. He relaxed upon seeing that it was Al, but still looked slightly confused as he took off his soil-covered gloves.
“Is everything okay, Albus?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. I was just wondering if I could ask for your advice?” Al found her gaze shifting uncontrollably toward the ground.
“Of course. What seems to be the problem?”
“Well, you know how I’m...I’m trans and all…” Al looked up but Neville’s expression remained the same. “And I’ve always gone by Albus, but I really want to stop because I don’t feel like it’s the right name for me.”
“Okay,” the professor said in a prompting voice.
“It’s just that everyone always talks about how Dumbledore was the greatest wizard to ever live and Severus Snape was so courageous, and I’m afraid that if I change my name, I’ll be dishonoring them, and it will offend my dad and everyone else.” Neville smiled softly.
“I’ve known your father for a long time, and I don’t think he would want you to do something that makes you unhappy just to make him proud. Plus, I happen to know for a fact that he is already incredibly proud of you and your siblings. It’s miserable really, it’s all he talks about. He’s terrible at parties.” Albus smiled and nodded.
“Thanks.” She started for the door.
“One more thing,” Neville called, and she stopped. “Between you and me, they weren’t that great anyways.”
The week Al returned home for the summer, she pulled Harry away from the massive family get together that was Teddy and Victoire’s welcome home party (hosted, of course, by Grandma and Grandpa Weasley) and told him that she wanted change her name. She promised she would pick something just as meaningful and that she didn’t mean to dishonor the men he respected so much. This, despite all her best intentions, was not done without bursting into tears, but Harry just held his daughter and told her that he loved her.
That September, two Potters and four Weasleys boarded the train to Hogwarts. They were the same students they had always been. Before the train arrived to signal the beginning of another year of late homework excuses, poorly and superbly executed pranks, magical mishaps, and house rivalries, Minerva McGonagall told her staff that the student formerly known as Albus Severus Potter would be returning to school under the name of Ruby.
All of the professors agreed that is was important to respect Ruby’s wishes and to call her by her preferred name. At least, all of them except Hagrid, who was much too busy sobbing into his handkerchief.