It started with a single tweet—an image of J.K. Rowling lounging in a leather armchair, a cigar in one hand, a glass of scotch in the other. The caption was short, cryptic, and smug: “I love it when a plan comes together.” For most, it was just another odd post from the controversial Harry Potter author. But behind the casual bravado lay a calculated unveiling of one of the most aggressive private legal campaigns targeting transgender rights in modern U.K. history.
Sources close to the situation have confirmed what many feared: J.K. Rowling is using her massive Harry Potter fortune to bankroll legal efforts aimed at dismantling laws that protect trans people in public life, in workplaces, and in spaces designated for women. And she’s doing it quietly—behind closed doors, through a newly launched private fund with a name that’s raising eyebrows everywhere: The J.K. Rowling Women’s Fund.
While publicly promoted as a project to “defend women’s sex-based rights,” internal documents obtained from a source close to the fund’s advisory board—dubbed the “Witch Hunt Files” by whistleblowers—paint a different picture. These files show that the fund’s legal team has drawn up a targeted list of trans-inclusive laws across the U.K. and Europe that they deem “vulnerable to repeal,” including provisions in the Equality Act, workplace anti-discrimination policies, and gender-inclusive bathroom access legislation.
One line from the internal briefing reads: “Our priority is to separate legal definitions of womanhood from gender ideology. Where gender identity overrides biological sex, legal action will be considered.”
Another section—highlighted in red—makes it chillingly clear: “We are entering a post-litigation phase. Influencing law through high-profile cases is not only possible, it’s inevitable.”
What’s more shocking, though, is the atmosphere described by insiders who have attended private donor meetings organized by Rowling and her team. At a recent gathering in Edinburgh’s New Club—a notoriously exclusive, male-dominated social club—Rowling reportedly told a circle of elite supporters: “We’re in a war of definitions. They think they can erase women by rewriting the dictionary. Well, not on my watch.”
Then, as one witness recalls, she raised her glass of scotch and added something that sent a chill through the room: “Let them call me Voldemort. At least Voldemort understood biology.”
The statement, according to the source, drew laughter and applause from her circle of allies, many of whom are wealthy donors with deep ties to conservative legal networks in the U.K. and U.S.
Publicly, Rowling has denied any anti-trans agenda, insisting she merely seeks to protect women’s rights. But activists and legal scholars say the distinction is false—and dangerously misleading. The fund is not just about defending biological sex; it’s about excluding an entire marginalized group from public life.
“She can call it whatever she wants,” says Dr. Maeve Hudson, a gender law expert at Oxford. “But the mechanics of what she’s doing are unmistakable. She’s financing a legal campaign to make trans people invisible.”
Already, the fund’s first wave of impact is being felt. Trans-inclusive policies at three U.K. universities have come under legal review due to anonymous complaints. Two court filings in Scotland challenge municipal policies allowing trans women to access women’s shelters. And a third case, in early preparation, is rumored to target the NHS over trans-specific health services.
And yet Rowling remains unrepentant. In a follow-up tweet, she posted a picture of a cauldron bubbling over with smoke, writing: “They thought it was just a story. But the real magic is in the law.”
Reaction has been swift and ferocious. Actor Pedro Pascal, whose sister Lux is trans, called the fund “a hate machine cloaked in Hogwarts branding.” LGBTQ+ groups across the U.K. and Europe have launched emergency campaigns to counter the fund’s legal offensives. And fan-led boycotts of Harry Potter merchandise, the upcoming HBO reboot, and Universal Studios attractions are gaining traction fast.
But perhaps the most damning response comes not from activists or celebrities, but from longtime fans.
“I grew up loving Hermione,” said 29-year-old Rosie Tate, who organized a mass Potter merch burning on TikTok. “But now I realize Rowling was never Hermione. She’s Umbridge—worse, even. She’s using her power to hurt people she doesn’t understand.”
As the legal cases mount and the backlash grows, one thing is certain: the world is no longer under the spell of the beloved author. And if the files uncovered are any indication, this isn’t the end of Rowling’s crusade—it’s just the beginning.