Collection Of Harrydore Recs

Nicely written 😊

My problem with Lily and James being seen as a super couple has nothing to do with Severus Snape but rather with the fact that when we look at the relationship between James and Lily through a feminist lens, it’s hard not to notice some pretty glaring issues that go beyond just whether or not they’re an “OTP” couple. Sure, on the surface it might seem like a story of two people finding love amid all the chaos, but scratch beneath the surface and you see a whole lot more about toxic masculinity, objectification, and the erasure of a woman’s agency. James is celebrated as this charming, rebellious “bad boy” with a roguish smile, while Lily gets stuck playing the role of the sacrificial, moral compass woman—someone who exists largely to balance out and even redeem the male narrative. And honestly, that’s a problem.

James is shown as this complex, active character who’s constantly surrounded by friends, enemies, and drama. His life is dynamic and full of choices—even if those choices sometimes involve manipulation and deceit. He’s the kind of guy who can easily slip out of confinement with his Invisibility Cloak, leaving Lily behind in a narrative that, over time, turns her into a background figure. This dynamic isn’t accidental; it’s reflective of how our culture often values male agency over female independence. Lily, on the other hand, is repeatedly reduced to her relationships with the men around her. Instead of being a person with her own dreams, opinions, and friendships, she becomes a symbol—a kind of emotional barometer for how “good” or “bad” a man is. Her character is used to validate the actions of others, which means her individuality gets smothered under the weight of a trope that’s all too common in literature: the idea that a woman’s worth is measured by her ability to tame or save a troubled man.

This isn’t just about a lack of depth in Lily’s character; it’s also about how her portrayal reinforces harmful gender norms. Lily is depicted as this kind of sacrificial mother figure—a person whose primary virtue is her selflessness, her willingness to suffer and sacrifice for the sake of others. While selflessness is often celebrated in women, it’s a double-edged sword when that selflessness is the only thing we see. Instead of having her own narrative, her role is defined by how much she gives up, not by what she contributes or the inner life she leads. And it’s not just a narrative oversight—it’s a reflection of a broader cultural pattern where women are expected to be nurturing, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the male characters who drive the action.

What’s even more frustrating is how Lily’s isolation is used to further the narrative of James’s redemption. Over time, we see Lily’s network of friends and her connections outside of James gradually disappear. It’s almost as if, once she falls in love, her entire world is meant to shrink around that relationship. And here’s where the feminist critique really kicks in: this isn’t a realistic depiction of a balanced, healthy relationship—it’s a story that subtly suggests that a woman’s fulfillment comes from being dependent on one man and his circle, rather than cultivating her own identity. Meanwhile, James continues to be portrayed as this larger-than-life figure who’s got a whole world beyond his romantic entanglement, a world filled with vibrant interactions, rivalries, and a legacy that extends beyond his relationship with Lily.

Another point worth mentioning is the way in which the narrative seems to excuse James’s less-than-stellar behavior. His manipulation, his lying, and his willingness to trick Lily into situations that serve his own interests are brushed off as quirks of a “bad boy” persona—a kind of charm that, in the end, makes him redeemable because Lily’s love is supposed to “tame” him. This kind of storytelling not only normalizes toxic masculinity but also puts an unfair burden on Lily. It’s like saying, “Look how amazing you are, you’re the only one who can fix him!” That’s a dangerous message because it implies that women are responsible for managing or even reforming male behavior, rather than holding men accountable for their own actions.

The imbalance in their character development is glaringly obvious when you compare how much more we learn about James versus how little we know about Lily. James is given room to be flawed, to grow, and to be complicated. His friendships, his rivalries, and even his mistakes are all part of what makes him a rounded character. Lily, however, is often just a name, a face in the background who exists mainly to serve as a counterpoint to James’s narrative. Her inner life, her ambitions, and her struggles are rarely explored in any meaningful way, leaving her as a one-dimensional character whose only real purpose is to highlight the moral journey of the man she loves.

It’s also important to recognize how this kind of narrative plays into broader cultural ideas about gender. When literature consistently portrays women as the quiet, isolated figures who are only valuable in relation to the men around them, it sends a message about what is expected of real-life women. It suggests that a woman’s worth is determined by how much she sacrifices or how well she can support a man, rather than by her own achievements or personality. This isn’t just a harmless trope—it contributes to a societal mindset that limits women’s potential and reinforces gender inequality. The way Lily is written reflects a kind of “tamed” femininity that’s supposed to be passive, supportive, and ultimately secondary to the active, adventurous masculinity that James represents.

At the heart of the issue is the lack of balance in their relationship as depicted in the texts. The idea that Lily “fell for” a man who was clearly not a paragon of virtue is problematic, but what’s even more problematic is how her role in the relationship is so narrowly defined. Rather than being seen as an independent character who makes choices and has her own voice, she is constantly portrayed as someone whose existence is meant to validate the male experience. Even when the texts mention that Lily had her own issues—like hating James at times or suffering because of the way their relationship unfolded—it’s always in a way that underlines her weakness compared to James’s dynamic, active presence.

Looking at the broader picture, it’s clear that this isn’t just about one fictional couple—it’s a reflection of how gender dynamics have long been skewed in literature. Male characters are given the freedom to be complex, flawed, and full of life, while female characters are often stuck in roles that don’t allow them to be fully realized. This isn’t to say that every story with a sacrificial female character is inherently bad, but it does mean that when a character like Lily is reduced to a mere symbol—a moral compass or a measure of male worth—it’s time to ask why and what that says about the society that produced that narrative.

So, what’s the way forward? For one, we need to start reimagining these relationships in a way that allows both partners to be fully fleshed out. Lily deserves to be more than just a side character or a moral benchmark; she should have her own narrative, her own dreams, and her own agency. And as much as it might be appealing to think of James as this redeemable rebel, it’s equally important to hold him accountable for the ways in which his behavior perpetuates harmful stereotypes about masculinity. A healthier narrative would be one in which both characters grow together, where mutual respect and equal agency are at the core of their relationship.

In the end, the story of James and Lily, as it stands, is a reminder of how deeply ingrained gender norms can shape the stories we tell. It’s a cautionary tale about the dangers of allowing toxic masculinity to go unchecked and of confining women to roles that don’t do justice to their full humanity. For anyone who’s ever felt frustrated by these imbalances, there’s hope in the idea of re-writing these narratives—of pushing for stories where both men and women are seen as complete, complex individuals. And really, that’s what literature should strive for: a reflection of the messy, beautiful, and often complicated reality of human relationships, where no one is just there to serve as a prop in someone else’s story.

Ultimately, if we can start imagining a world where characters like Lily aren’t just defined by their relationships to men, where their voices and stories are given as much weight as those of their male counterparts, then we can begin to chip away at the outdated tropes that have held us back for so long. It’s about time we celebrated the full spectrum of human experience—and that means giving women like Lily the space to shine on their own terms, without being constantly overshadowed by a “bad boy” narrative that has little to say about their true selves.

So, last night I got to thinking what I want Snape in my interpretation to look like, so please take this offering with my thought process

And after that I also made a rough sketch for a fun idea with a late night sneaking around that I l've got, so here's that as well

"Detention, Potter."

I like shipping people that almost nobody ever thought of shipping together and have the potential to be really interesting.

Like Molly x Voldemort, Molly x Sirius, Ron x Voldemort, Andromeda x Bellatrix, Lucius x Hermione, Blaise x Ron and so much more 😄

But he is the best chaser and quidditch requires a lot of training. It's also the equivalent to football. You also don't have to be buff to be very athletic, you can be lean and slightly muscular. I think all the adventures and quidditch training does tell the readers that Harry is an athletic person. Everyone who does quidditch is an athlete. Quidditch is the main sport and Viktor Krum, one of the most popular quidditch players, is very masculine.

🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

describing harry as "an insanely athletic man" while all he does is sit on a flying broom is crazy work

Every time I see someone in the fandom joke about Harry being an “attention seeker” or “dramatic” I think about that one post that says that Harry goes through a lot of problems women face (people calling you a liar/dramatic/an attention seeker when you’re in pain and suffering). Because how the hell is both canon AND the fandom calling him dramatic after everything he experienced and went through.

(If anyone knows the post I’m talking about and has the link please please please send it to me, I would love to reread it but idk where it went.)

Exactly. His reason was 'because Snape exists', which must mean the wealthy, popular pureblood couldn't have possibly bullied the poor, unpopular halfblood with no serious consequences because of class. I cannot see the correlation. Lily was simply too pretty to be hanging out with that greasy weirdo, so James, the noble boy that he was, just had to protect her from him! That's it!

As a descendant of sea sponges, whose ancestors were ruthlessly exploited by Roman patricians for their decadent baths, as someone whose great-great-great-sponge ancestors experienced the full weight of class oppression when rich Romans used them in their thermal baths, as someone with deep sponge trauma, I understand better than anyone the dynamics between different social classes.

And I declare — James Potter didn't “bully” Snape because he was poor

It makes me sad that we don't know more about Hermione's parents and all of their relationships' dynamic.

"Snape would be a school shooter" stfu

Hi, one more question!

I read Tomarry fan fiction with time travel, and when they write that Harry is taking Tom from the orphanage, for some reason they write that Harry expects that if he gives the love and care that he was deprived of, then Tom will become a different person. That is, Harry projects himself onto Tom and expects the same reaction from him that Harry himself would have had if he had been taken away from the Dursleys. And also, I do not understand the authors themselves believe that if you give a child (Tom) everything he wants and do not limit him at least somehow, that he will grow up to be a morally better person? Or do they think that Harry is so narrow-minded and does not understand that punishments and rewards are needed for proper upbringing? That it's not enough to just say "don't do this because it's wrong for a moral reason", but to provide a logical explanation that would be based on logic and pragmatism, which would sound clearer to Tom? What do you think about it?

Anyone could write whatever they want, and I'm not going to diss any specific fics or authors. Personally, I'm not the biggest fan of Harry going back in time to raise Tom fics because it's just not to my personal taste. So, this isn't the kind of scenario I really think about for Harry's and Tom's characters.

In general, though, I think Harry understands Tom and how he thinks more than fanon often gives him credit for. I also think Tom isn't as evil incarnate as some fanon paints him as. I don't think he's super moral, but I don't think he is especially cruel either.

Like, Tom doesn't do immoral things because he doesn't know what's good and what's evil, he is an intelligent capable adult — he knows very well what he's doing is evil, he just doesn't mind doing evil if he thinks it's necessary.

And he has morals. He regrets needing to kill Snape, he dislikes unnecessary death and bloodshed and actively avoids it in the first war. He doesn't want to kill students in the battle of Hogwarts and calls a ceasefire to let them regroup and treat their injuries to the detriment of his own side. He hates cowardice and treachery. He derides Wormtail because he betrayed his friends, yes, that betrayal helped Voldemort, but Voldemort despises cowardly traitors as a rule and his morals are important to him. He hates pretentious purebloods and he shows this contempt in how he treats his followers. Tom has a moral core all on its own with his shitty upbringing, it's just, kinda messed up and he's a practicality-over-morality kind of person most of the time. I'm saying most because he doesn't allow himself to cheat when trying to kill Harry. He just has to kill Harry properly, in a fair duel, because of his own morals and ideals. I also think Tom would be insulted by the concept of cheating at school, for example.

I mentioned in the past the fact Voldemort's favorite spell is the killing curse kinda shows that he has some twisted sense of morality. I mean, in a world where you can burn and cut and torture people with magic there are so many cruel and painful ways to kill someone, and yet, Voldemort's go-to spell, when he isn't making a point or torturing someone for a specific reason, is Avada Kedavra. The Killing Curse is a painless death, even Voldemort considers it a merciful death. It's quick and painless and efficient. This is the death he gave James and Lily because he respected them and didn't want them to suffer unnecessarily. This is the death he chooses for anyone he doesn't have a specific reason to torture because he is against what he deems as unnecessary cruelty. Snape's death is the only real death that is unnecessarily cruel but I think it has more to do with JKR needing a way for Snape to get Harry the information he needs rather than be accurate to Voldemort's character as he was shown thus far.

Like, he has some weird sense of morality, and even with the evil things he does, like murder, he knows they are bad and he does so anyway. Sometimes, he does so regretfully, in the most merciful way he can, and other times, when he hates someone, he relishes in it. It's not about not understanding good and evil or not knowing what morals are, it's about caring about morals less than about whatever goal he wants to accomplish, and sometimes that goal is to humiliate the crap out of Lucius Malfoy, or to showcase how great he is and be dramatic about it. But the fact he has his twisted morals and considers himself merciful is part of what makes him so interesting to me.

How did you get into harrymort?

I read the books