Let me start by saying that I absolutely despise J.K. Rowling. I think she is a vile human being. And yet, I can’t deny that her books shaped my childhood, made me the reader I am today, and that the movies were the glue that held my childhood friendships together. That nostalgia is real, and it coexists with the heartbreak I feel knowing the person behind it all holds harmful views. Both of these things can be true at once, and acknowledging one does not absolve the other.

With Harry Potter fan fiction making its way into mainstream publishing, I have been thrown into a rabbit hole of questions. Is fan fiction based on Harry Potter inherently bad? Do these newly published works somehow support Rowling? Would boycotting them even make a measurable difference in the bigger picture?

I have seen every argument online. Some people are adamant that Rowling profits from these books. Others insist she does not make a single penny from them. I have even seen people claim that if you read them, you must hate trans people, an extreme leap I simply do not believe. The world is not that black and white. Being human is layered and messy, and we all have to make peace with choices that do not fit into neat moral boxes.

I have no desire to support J.K. Rowling. For years, the consensus was that reading fan fiction was acceptable precisely because she did not benefit from it. But the conversation seemed to shift the moment fan fiction started being traditionally published, and suddenly the narrative became that buying these books means you are funding transphobia. What changed? And why?

Part of the argument is that these works “keep the Harry Potter IP alive.” In a sense, that may be true. Whenever we link them to Harry Potter, we keep the association fresh in people’s minds. But paradoxically, the louder we are about condemning them, the more oxygen we give to that connection. What is meant to discourage engagement can end up amplifying it.

Alchemised, the book at the center of much of this debate, has been rewritten to remove Harry Potter characters, names, and settings so it could be published legally as an original work by Del Rey. There is no evidence of a licensing deal with Rowling or Warner Bros., which would have been required if Harry Potter IP were still present. Warner Bros. is famously protective of the franchise and would never allow a non-canon, unapproved book to be published under any official association with Harry Potter unless they were directly involved and profiting. The seven-figure film rights deal Legendary Entertainment made for Alchemised was with the author and their representatives, not Rowling. As far as public record shows, Rowling is not in the chain of payment, with no royalties and no participation.

That does not mean there is zero connection. The book is marketed with the fact that it started as Harry Potter fan fiction, and that discourse does keep Harry Potter culturally relevant. Rowling profits most directly from book sales, licensing, and her upcoming television series, massive, guaranteed revenue streams that far outweigh a handful of books she legally has no rights to.

This also leaves me wondering when fan fiction becomes its own thing, if ever. Some argue it can never be separated from its source, that changing names and places is not enough. But if someone picked up Alchemised without any knowledge of its origin, they might never suspect it was once inspired by Harry Potter. Does time, shifting culture, or the depth of a rewrite eventually make a work original in its own right?

If we knew for certain that Rowling does not profit from these books, would that change how we view them? Would that make it acceptable to buy and read them, or does any connection to Harry Potter, no matter how far removed, still feel like a step too close? And what about those who choose to read them anyway? Does their choice say something about their values, or is it simply one of many complicated ways people navigate a world where art and artist are often entangled? I do not have a clean answer. Maybe the more important work is asking these questions at all, and allowing ourselves to wrestle with what they mean for us.