Severus Snape dealing with a transgender Hogwarts student.
A/N: this is my first fanfiction that i’ve written for the HP fandom so please bare with me if my characterisations are off :’)) I came up with this oneshot idea cause I thought something like it would make JKR super mad lmao Hope you enjoy!
You weren’t exactly sure how they found out. Or when. But they did.
“Oi, wana be a bloke so bad? Even Professor Umbrige would be better at that than you!”
At first, you told yourself their words didn’t matter. You were above all that, too mature to let a few insults get under your skin. But the problem was that it didn’t stop at words.
Shoving. Tripping. Wandless hexes aimed just low enough to be overlooked by professors. You’d nearly hit the stone floor more times than you could count, forced to catch yourself before sustaining a serious injury on the hard, rough grounds of Hogwarts. Your shins were littered with bruises from well-placed kicks and your bag had been knocked from your hands so many times, that you barely reacted anymore. You gave up on even thinking about trying out for Quidditch. And then there was the near-drowning incident: your head gripped by the collar, yanked toward the toilet bowl, only for the Weasley twins to enter at just the right moment. You didn’t know if they’d suspected anything or taken action behind your back, but you were thankful that no one tried anything quite that extreme again.
You’d never intended on anyone outside of your closest friends to know. And they had been nothing but supportive. But you weren’t sure Hogwarts had any policies for transgender students’ protection and you weren’t eager to find out the hard way. You’d already experienced disappointment when you’d told your family. Or at least, tried to. You were used to being misunderstood, dismissed, pushed aside. So you kept your head down, let people call you by the name they knew, and only allowed yourself to truly be you in the company of those you trusted.
When the Slytherins— somehow— found out, they only proved your suspicions, that Hogwarts wasn’t the best place for you to be yourself, even if it did feel better than being home.
It was as though you wore a target on your back every time you stepped into the Great Hall. Your stomach curled at the thought of walking through the common areas alone, skin prickled under unseen stares, you’d flinch at sudden noises. You stopped going to the library when you realized they lingered there too. You even skipped meals, avoiding as many social gatherings as you could. This gained the concern of Professor McGonagall, who brushed away with the usual “home-sickness” excuse. But the worst part was how it affected your academic progress.
You had always been a good student, one of the best in Gryffindor. But now, you simply couldn’t balance the weight of your complicated situation and your coursework. You overslept, missed assignments, handed in work late, mostly rushed and incomplete. Tests weren’t an exciting, adrenaline filled challenge anymore, they were merely something to brush off at the end of the day. Your marks began slipping too and eventually, someone took notice. Someone, whose class— despite being a Gryffindor— you excelled in.
And that was how you’d found yourself in this predicament - standing in the nearly empty potions classroom, shoulders tense, head held low, waiting as the last of your year hurried out under Professor Snape’s sharp gaze.
The door shut with as much force as the professor had turned to you, his black robes billowing as he moved, hair flicking sharply against his face. His dark eyes raked over you, a cold and unreadable expression as he began, his tone calm, unwavering, though it seemed like he would snap any moment.
“I must congratulate you,” he said smoothly, his voice laced with sarcasm. “Your last report barely received a passing mark.”
He held up the graded parchment between his fingers, distaste evident in every move.
You opened your mouth in attempt to explain, to reason, to apologize, but the words tangled on your tongue. You usually got along fine with Snape, or at least as well as any Gryffindor could. You followed instructions, put in the work, and— while he wasn’t exactly kind— he acknowledged your efforts. He didn’t loathe you.
But today, his towering, threatening presence terrified you. Perhaps the vulnerability of your current situation was also a factor, playing into the feeling of being exposed, causing your legs to tremble and eyes wander about the empty classroom. You felt small.
“You have failed every test since the start of this month,” he continued, voice drawn out and deliberate, “your lab work has been nothing short of disappointing.”
You swallowed hard and nodded, keeping your head bowed.
The Professor moved around his desk with measured steps, setting your graded paper down before clasping his hands together. He turned back to you, expression just as intense as when he’d told you to stay after class.
“Normally, I could not care less if a student chooses to squander their potential,” he said calmly. “Believe me, you are not special.”
His lips curled slightly as he examined you.
“But you are one of my most competent students. Your work was nearly perfect. So?” His voice dropped lower. “Are you simply too full of yourself now to put in the effort?”
Your eyes snapped up, startled.
“I- no- Professor- certainly not.” You stammered, heart thudding. “I assure you, I love your class and potions is my favo—“
“I assure you I do not care.”
You clamped your mouth shut, head ducking back into the shielding comfort of your shoulders.
“I would like a proper explanation as to why you have decided to stop trying.”
You swallowed, fumbling for something— anything— to say.
“I- erm— I’ve had trouble— sleeping and… keeping up with my schedule has been hard—Well- that would be explained by the sleeping— it’s really- and the workload now— I mean- it’s…”
Your spluttering excuses made no impression on the stone faced Professor as he only raised a curious eyebrow.
“Are you under the impression that lack of sleep is an acceptable excuse?” His tone remained smooth, but the warning was there, careful, curling around the edges of his words. “If you think I will tolerate such carelessness, rest assured, I am prepared to do more than simply fail you.”
He observed you closely, having noticed the sudden discomfort and the obvious lies spilling from your mouth. Still, he couldn’t let himself believe that his best student was succumbing to laziness.
“If you have something to say, say it.”
Your stomach twisted. This was certainly not how you had expected to spend your Tuesday afternoon. Then again, you likely would have spent it hiding in your dorm.
“I—” You swallowed. “I’ve been bullied, sir.” The words felt thick in your throat, but you forced them out before you could stop yourself. “By the Slytherins.”
Snape did not react at first. His expression remained eerily still.
“I- I know it’s not an excuse- but I—“
“Who has been bullying you?”
The look on his face hadn’t changed much and his tone remained cold, but he spoke demandingly and there was a different kind of intensity behind his words now.
He met your silence with an expectant stare and you had no choice but to answer. You begrudgingly listed off names - at first, narrowing it down to a small group of the worst ones, but at Snape’s pointed insistence, you ended up naming all of them. Even the ones who had only watched.
“Is it really that important..?” You questioned, not wanting to out yourself, but immediately quieted down upon meeting the professor’s eyes. He was seething. Wether at the knowledge of his House causing trouble or because you once again tried avoiding his requests. You had the distinct feeling that pushing back was not an option. His eyes narrowed, jaw tightening.
“I’m… transgender, sir.” The words came out in barely a whisper, your eyes locked on the floor. “And I- I told my friends— only Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. I don’t know how the Slytherins found out— I swear, I never meant for it to spread like this…”
Your chest tightened. You clenched your fists, forcing yourself to keep talking.
Snape didn’t speak. He didn’t react. He simply waited.
“It- it started with a few comments— about my masculinity— or lack thereof, in their understanding. It- it’s only gotten worse, sir…” you gathered yourself with a sharp inhale, barely registering the trembling in your voice. “They started shoving me, pulling my hair, yanking my bag, tripping me. I- I’ve been avoiding them as much as possible at meals, the library, i’d even noticed them starting to linger in Gryffindor common rooms…”
You swallowed. “I tried talking to Professor Trelawney about it and she’d promised to ‘give them a talking to’, but I don’t think she ever did.. It’s— been keeping me on edge. I- I can’t focus on my studies when all I can think about is what they’re planning next. A recent game of theirs is shouting ‘Jax’— the name which I’ve asked my friends to adress me with— just to get a reaction, just to entertain themselves.”
Your fists tightened at your sides “That’s… that’s why I’ve been so behind. I- I promise, Professor, it’s not only your class in which I’m falling behind…”
Snape remained silent for a beat while you refused to look anywhere but at the ground. You failed to notice the way his eyes had narrowed, the way his jaw was clenched so tightly now, it was almost painful. You had no true way of knowing how he felt about your identity, about this very personal issue you had just laid bare in front of him like it was nothing, like this couldn’t have costed you your entire reputation and safety - at Hogwarts and in his class.
“And you believe that informing an incompetent professor, instead of coming to someone with actual authority, would solve this problem?” He spoke, his tone measured, edged with something sharp. This time you actually looked up at him - still towering, still threatening, but there was something else in his expression, something unreadable, yet undeniably— soft?
“I assure you,” he continued, his composure never faltering, voice steady, unwavering, “bullying is not tolerated in the Slytherin House, or anywhere in this school. Healthy rivalry is one thing, but bigotry and agression are entirely different. Rest assured, they will be dealt with and I will be taking points— 150 at the least— from Slytherin. Hogwarts is no place for such behaviour. Your persecutors will face the consequences, no doubt.”
For the first time in weeks you felt the tension rolling off your shoulders. It was finally out. And though you had braced yourself for indifference or dismissal, you didn’t doubt his words for a moment. If anyone could deal with intolerable behaviour and carry out the wrath of a strict professor, it was Snape. Being Head of Slytherin House, you were more than sure your bullies would finally face the appropriate consequences.
“Thank you, Professor.” You gave him an appreciative nod, feeling like no words could express your grattitude as you finally managed to meet his eye, his cold facade never once faltering - he was not gentle, but he carried himself with reasonable authority. “I- I swear, I hadn’t meant to miss all those assignements— truly— I wasn’t aware of how badly this all affected me and—“
“If this is something that has been weighing on you,” the professor spoke again, completely ignoring your profuse rambling, “I may speak to Professor McGonagall about ensuring you are adressed correctly in class.”
Your mouth fell slightly agape at his words. For a moment, all you could do was stare. You never expected Snape to be the supportive kind.
“I- I would really appreciate that, sir…” you beamed at him, earning a perfectly in-character eye roll. Though it didn’t lessen the impact of what he’d just said.
“But- I am afraid this would only lead to more bullying. I don’t want to risk it.”
His gaze sharpened. “Do I have to repeat myself? Hogwarts does not tolerate bullying.” He spoke firmly, but his message was clear: this wasn’t a suggestion, it was a fact. “If you require recognition, you will have it. I will see to it personally.”
The professor’s tone remained the same as it had for the entirety of your talk, but something had shifted. He understood you, heard you. He hadn’t dismissed you at your most vulnerable, hadn’t reduced you to an inconvenience. Instead he’d reached out, in his own unwavering, deadpan way, he offered help. All you did was explain yourself, hoping to feign some forgiveness, but instead you got the support you’d always longed for. And there was nothing you could say, nothing, no words, which could convey how grateful and how relieved you felt. For the first time in weeks, it was as though you weren’t fighting alone.
You only nodded, a nod covering thankfulness and confirming that you were ready to start the transition towards acceptance. This was no longer just about your grades, this was something bigger, someone actually standing beside you.
You’d turned toward the door to leave, Snape already moving back behind his desk, hands resting firmly against its surface.
Just as you reached for the handle, his voice cut through the quiet.
“Jax.” He called. “I will… grant you an extension on your missed assignments.“
For the first time, someone other than your friends had used your name. Your real name.
It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t reluctant, it was an acknowledgment, simple, unembellished, but firm. An extension of his support and that deep, lurking empathy somewhere in the dephs of Severus Snape’s otherwise darkened soul..
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