"The Thought Of Maybe Being A Good Person Is What Makes Me Trying To Be A Good Person"

I've rarely seen a more validating sentence in my entire life.

Andrey Kneller, the translator of My Poems: Selected Poetry of Marina Tsvetaeva [bilingual edition] 

oh dear :D (from georgia's insta)

:)

okay

i hv always imagined (since the oh-so-overwhelming epiphany) what it would be like to just say the words...just say it out loud to my parents. i really felt it when sirius said, "i didn't know being gay was an option."

I felt that. i have been in denial of my sexuality for a very long time, so being able to say this rn, it feels good.

Broken Things

(when an anon asks for a bi-harry coming out moment...you write a bi-harry coming out moment to his two gay dads. I'm not sure if this is angsty enough but...'tis here.)

cw: for sexual identity exploration; coming out questions...teen angst about identity?

Because up until his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry hadn't even thought about being gay. Because he took one look at Cho Chang and his head exploded, his tongue getting tied up in what would be the perfect thing to say and falling short every time. He found himself staring at long jet black hair, wondering if it would feel as silky as it looked and wondering if he would ever get to know her well enough to find out. But...

But then there was Cedric Diggory. The boy with the soft brown curls and wide smile who once smiled at Harry and his head exploded a second time. Cedric and Cho could've gathered around the grounds with tiny brooms and a dustpan, picking up the remnants of Harry's skull as he muddled through blushes and heart palpitations every time Cedric so much as breathed in his direction.

--

Okay.

Sirius was gay. Harry knew Sirius was gay. Because Harry had been born, and Sirius was there, with Remus, who was his boyfriend, which could've been enough information. But then Harry grew up with Sirius and Remus. Remus was also gay. And Harry knew this too.

Sirius and Remus. Together. They were together. They were married, though Harry was barely four when they got married and only remembered from pictures what the day could've been like. In the backyard of Grimmauld Place. Remus said that Sirius really outdid himself and Sirius said he'd do it again in a cardboard box.

Sirius had a husband, and Sirius was gay. Remus was his husband and Remus was gay. Harry knew this. But he didn't...

he didn't know much else about the...being part.

Because up until his fourth year at Hogwarts, Harry hadn't even thought about being gay. Because he took one look at Cho Chang and his head exploded, his tongue getting tied up in what would be the perfect thing to say and falling short every time. He found himself staring at long jet black hair, wondering if it would feel as silky as it looked and wondering if he would ever get to know her well enough to find out. But...

But then there was Cedric Diggory. The boy with the soft brown curls and wide smile who once smiled at Harry and his head exploded a second time. Cedric and Cho could've gathered around the grounds with tiny brooms and a dustpan, picking up the remnants of Harry's skull as he muddled through blushes and heart palpitations every time Cedric so much as breathed in his direction. And it wasn't like Harry was counting the breaths, because that would be insane, (but it had been twice) and Harry left both conversations wiping his hands on his school trousers, hoping his face didn't give away just how truly enamored he was.

And that was the trouble.

The trouble was...he didn't think he was gay.

The trouble was...he might be gay.

The trouble was he didn't know how to think or feel about either thing and instead spent nights lying awake in bed, especially as winter holidays approached knowing his attentive godfather would surely pick up on something. Remus already had noticed the crease in Harry's eyebrows when they met for Sunday tea at school, asking Everything okay? enough times for Harry to start avoiding tea altogether. Home from school for the holidays, Harry waited until Remus had fallen asleep on the couch in the living room in front of the fireplace--as he usually did when the school bells stopped ringing and Remus got to indulge in just as much sleep as he wanted-- and he was alone with Sirius in the library. A record player turning softly in the background, a tea tray on the table, though it had hot cocoa instead.

Harry swallowed, feeling uncomfortable on the couch, even though that was usually his favorite place to sit; maybe it was his skin he wanted to crawl out of this time. "...Hey Sirius?"

"Hey, Harry?"

"So..the rule about me asking you any question is still okay...right?

Any question except the ones about your crushes on boys. And crushes on girls.

Keep that to yourself.

It's teenager stuff and it'll...pass. You don't even know what you're feeling.

"Always," Sirius said and sat up from his lounging position in an armchair so he could look at Harry, giving him his full attention. Grey eyes met his own across the table and Harry squirmed for the briefest of moments.

It's Sirius. He loves you. Always. You know this.

Don't you?

"When...when did you know you were gay?"

Harry expected a question in return, fingers gripping the knees of his jeans in preparation.

Why are you asking me that? What made you think of that? Who asked you to ask me that? You should mind your own--

Stop it.

"Which version would you like?"

"What?"

"There's the real version, and there's the version I tell people I've come out to throughout the years that's...more...dignified."

"...Can I...have both?"

Sirius grinned, "For you, anything," he said simply and Harry already felt better, though his fingers still found absent threads on his clothing, on the couch, picking to avoid looking fully at Sirius. "For a very long time, I didn't know being gay was an option. It hadn't occurred to me. My family was traditional and sex wasn't something we spoke about. Marriage and...procreation was all about maintaining blood purity, carrying the Black line and not...about pleasure or...anything." Sirius started, and Harry found himself sitting up a little straighter, his hands slowing their picking as he listened to his godfather, his answer already unexpected, "I didn't know any different until I was shown it could be different and that was at Hogwarts through...hands-on experience."

"I don't need to know those bits, thanks."

He laughed, "Abridged version. I didn't...really realize until I was about fifteen or so that I liked men. I just assumed I had to like women and thought that...I was just too broken and damaged and defective to enjoy being with them. But... you know, from what I'd been raised in, pleasure didn't matter."

"Why would you think that? That...you were broken?" Harry asked, eyebrows knitting together. Sirius was his favorite person in the world--he looked at his godfather and saw easy confidence and brilliance that he hoped to reach someday--how could he ever look at himself and think he was anything less than whole?

"I..." Sirius paused for the first time, a sort of pain passing through his features briefly, "Thought a lot of unkind things about myself when I was a teenager. But, when I got to Hogwarts, as I got older, there were some students who were queer, that...I kind of saw myself in. Remus showed me David Bowie and Queen and I actually found out my Uncle-- Alphard, remember? I've talked about him?" and Harry nodded, "He was gay. I didn't find out until after receiving his share of the Black estate though. Point is...I was overjoyed the first time I kissed a boy and liked it, and I realized I wasn't the broken thing. That...I didn't have to like women."

You are not the broken thing. You are not defective.

"It brought its own set of challenges of course but...I was much happier with myself after coming to that conclusion."

"..You said there's another version?"

"Oh. Yeah," Sirius grinned widely, his grey eyes twinkling, "There was a seventh-year. Ravenclaw Quidditch player by the name of Porter Turpin. And at the beginning of fifth year, I took one look at his arse in his uniform trousers and that really...confirmed my suspicions."

"Did you snog him?" Harry asked through laughter and the acid that was still lingering in the pit of his stomach.

"Oh, you want to know now?"

"Well yeah, now it's important."

"We did snog, quite proud of myself for that one." Sirius said, leaning forward onto his knees to catch Harry's gaze from across the room, "Anything else?"

What if I can't decide? What happens then? Did someone forget to flip a switch one way or the other? I'm somewhere in the middle of off and on and the lights keep flickering.

Broken. Shorting out.

"No."

--

Getting Remus alone was harder, Harry not realizing how much Remus and Sirius actually spent together until trying to get them apart. Harry could remember when he was younger pulling faces at the kisses they shared in the middle of the kitchen, or the way he would sometimes find them wrapped up in each other on the sofa. Or when they would share a single glass of wine at the Weasleys for dinner, taking turns taking sips like a well-choreographed routine, never understanding why they couldn't just have their own. But as he got older, he saw the morning embraces and the way Remus's head would fall on Sirius's shoulder in the evening and Harry couldn't look away.

What was it like to find your other half? What was it like to know who your other half was going to be?

Harry was able to get Remus alone, up in their bedroom, as he put away laundry into the dresser. Harry had been given his own basket to put away (which was presently being ignored, but a sexual identity crisis took precedent over folding t-shirts), and had taken a small detour, sitting on the foot of their big bed as Remus opened drawers by magic.

"D'you...want me to pair the socks?"

"You're offering?"

"I'm sitting here is all..."

"Be my guest, Harry." He said, folding a pair of jeans not so carefully. Harry grabbed a sock from the pile, going through the combination of patterns and sizes to find its missing side.

"...Remus?"

"Hm?"

Remus loves you too. You know this.

...Don't you?

"When...did you...when did you know you were gay?"

"Oh, well..." Remus paused to think in the center of the room, "I don't think there was one defining moment...I think I always knew I was gay."

Harry had to stifle a sigh, wondering what it must be like to grow up knowing everything there was to know about yourself. Remus always knew he wanted to be a professor too.

"Yeah but...did you ever think that maybe you weren't?"

"Love," Remus smiled softly, "I shared a dormitory with Sirius. I stood absolutely no chance at ever thinking I was anything but."

"But....what if that was just Sirius. Can't you like a person? Not...their...like it...doesn't have to be..." Harry fumbled awkwardly, sock tumbling out of his hand and onto the floor. He bent forward off the bed to retrieve it, blood rushing to his head and deciding that was much better than trying to articulate how am I supposed to know I'm gay or if I just really like Cedric as a friend who I barely talk to and only see in hallways, who happens to have dimples and curls and smells nice?

Remus let magic take the rest of the pants and put them into the drawer, not caring if a leg got caught and that it didn't close perfectly, coming to sit next to Harry on the bed, "When I was younger, I didn't have the words to explain being best friends with a boy in my neighborhood. I just had really big feelings. And then..eventually, I got words, and unfortunately, most of them were swear words--" Harry snorted, "But some describing once too. And the same big feelings I had when I was younger were still there when I was 12 and then 15 and then...now? And it wasn't just around Sirius. It was...around muggle boys I met during summer holidays, and every time I got a copy of Rolling Stone magazine."

Harry thought of the extra time he spent looking at Quidditch Mag. The intense heat at the back of his neck when he flipped to a page with Viktor Krum. Harry knew the big feeling well.

"So...what did you do? About...?"

"I'm afraid I'm rather boring, Harry. There was no Great Goblin Crusade moment in my coming out story... when a girl would ask me to Hogsmeade, I'd just tell her I wasn't interested and that was it. My friends knew, my parents knew...that's all that mattered to me."

"Hm."

Harry felt Remus's long fingers run over his hair, "Anything else?"

But what if I am interested? How am I supposed to respond? Can I have both? Will you love me all the same?

"No."

--

It had been days since speaking with both Remus and Sirius, nights spent tossing and turning, days spent in a fog as a flurry of faces and features clouded his mind.

Oliver Wood's broad shoulders, he noticed those.

Cho's silken hair; her white smile, he noticed too.

Cedric's light eyes, caught in hallways.

Parvati was pretty, gold jewelry on her fingers. He couldn't help but glance at Angelina's long legs during Quidditch practice.

He liked both. He wanted both.

Heart hammering in his chest in cadence with his feet down the wooden floorboards of the hallway, rushing until he reached Remus and Sirius' room, and knocked before entering. Not caring if he was fourteen, almost fifteen, and too old to be doing this; not caring if they were awake or sleeping or if he made too much noise, Harry climbed into bed, taking the empty spot next to Sirius, the spot that was vacant because his godfather always slept close to Remus.

Sirius rolled over, eyes half-open, Remus stirring beneath him, "Harry?"

"Hi," he said meekly, drawing his legs up underneath his chin, and wrapping his arms around himself as Remus and Sirius both sat up.

"What's going on? Is everything okay?" Remus asked, his voice scratchy, flicking his wrist to turn on the bedside lamp.

"I don't know."

"Hey, hey," Sirius said, warm hand connecting with his face, sensing the change in emotion faster than Harry could even start to comprehend it. He was too old to be in their bed, he was too old to be crying.

What if I'm the broken thing?

"My love," Sirius said, "What's all this now?"

"I don't know." Harry managed, looking at Sirius's face, "I...I...think I might be gay."

"Okay."

"And...and...also not gay? I...don't know. I don't know what's wrong with me. I can't...I thought if I just asked you both when you knew, that I would know. But...all it did was make me more confused because obviously, I know you...you're gay, and...other people aren't and...I'm not? but I am? and...I-I-I-I don't know."

"There's nothing wrong with you," Sirius told him gently, pulling him into his chest, and Harry clung to the fabric of Sirius's shirt like a life vest "Absolutely nothing."

He felt Remus's hand on his back, rubbing in slow circles the way he always did. Harry could remember being much younger, Remus bringing him into his arms after every skinned knee, rhythmic patterns on his back slowing tears in seconds.

"It's...called bisexual," Remus explained, his voice soothing, calm, and steady, "If...you...like both. You can like both. More than one. You can fancy girls... and you can fancy boys."

"But--"

"You can like both. Or neither or everything," Remus continued, "And you're also fourteen and...can keep figuring this out."

"I..." Harry released a breath into Sirius's chest, Remus's words washing over him, washing away worry and the ache in his bones that wouldn't subside. Sirius's words echoed in his mind: i didn't know being gay was an option. Harry didn't know either. "I...It's okay?"

"Mhmm," Sirius said, "It's okay. It's great, even. We love you, no matter what."

"There is nothing in this world you could do that would make us stop loving you, Harry James," Remus added, giving enough space between the two of them for Harry to crawl into. He had told himself the last time he slept in their bed at thirteen was going to be the last time. And the time before that at 11 before his first day at Hogwarts. But this time was going to be his last...even if it was the safest place he could imagine being. Settled between his two pillars of strength, quieting all fears with a simple i love you.

you can keep figuring it out.

you can like both. or neither. or everything.

bisexual.

a new word settling on the roof of his mouth, eager to make itself at home.

"...Even...even if I'm straight?" He asked, his arms circled around one of Sirius's, head sharing Remus's pillow.

Sirius laughed, kissing Harry on the top of his head, as Remus flicked his wrist, the room going dark once more. "Even then. Especially then."

-

- James's birthday was an elaborate affair. Everyone James had ever spoken to, looked at, breathed in the direction of, was invited to celebrate his birthday (and not just for posterity or formality; because James genuinely noticed when so and so from Ravenclaw who gave him a spare quill once wasn't around for the festivities. James would apologize the next day for not including them). James's birthday might as well have been a holiday at Hogwarts it was so widely celebrated. With something active and engaging planned by Sirius. Like the year he turned the grounds by the Black Lake into a makeshift seaside, covering the grounds with sand and lawn chairs. Everyone played Beach Volleyball that year, a school-wide tournament, James grinning from ear to ear even as the sun went down and the colder temperatures set in. No one complained of too much activity or opted out of playing on James's birthday. They just did.

- Sirius's birthday used to look like James'. For the first few years. Because what better way to know how loved you were than having everyone you've ever met come celebrate you? Admire you? Pay attention to you on a day that was usually wasn't acknowledged at all. Other than a milestone--a year closer to being of age, of being a proper heir. The first few years, it was loud and obnoxious. A disruption that Sirius didn't even want in the first place but thought he should have. The last few years...weren't. The numbers dwindled as Sirius realized having a lot of people he didn't care about wasn't nearly as great as having a few people he did. Birthdays became smaller at fifteen--but were still filled with loud music, and alcohol and the fattest joints Remus could roll. Parties that went until well past midnight, James stifling yawns behind his hand, the night ending looking up at the stars, just as Sirius liked to do.

-Remus's birthday? The quietest, the slowest, the joy of doing nothing. The only day of the year James and Sirius didn't get up at the crack of dawn and stayed in bed until they had to get up for class. When Remus's birthday fell on weekend, it was an entire day, made up of blanket forts and too much smoke coming out of the Gryffindor tower window. Snacks and sweets and plenty of coffee in bed, three heads for one pillow, sharing a flask, giggling, and shooting the shit until the sun went down. Sirius didn't worry about the crumbs on the bedsheets, James didn't start fidgeting and trying to think of something to do. They just were. Dozing in and out of sleep, waking up to repeat the process. Remus's birthday was a slow day. A slow spinning record. Long cuddles. Wishes made on candles that burned far too long because Remus took forever to think of something he could possibly want that wasn't right there in front of him already.

If the face fits

Jily meet cute! ....well, this might be a meet ugly, but it's all I can think of. Based on a video I saw a while back, and I'll try to post it if I find it again. NSFW below the cut.

Lily hates the first day at a new gym. 

Trying out a new gym is always a bit uncomfortable. There are rules and expectations that are common across every gym, of course, but each one has its own culture that you really can’t know until you walk in the door. What is the flow around the equipment? What is the acceptable time on a machine? Where is the best vantage point to check out the gym hotties?

Lily despises walking in without knowing what to expect, but she and Mary moved to this city a month ago, and running outside is only going to get her by for so long. She needs some actual gym equipment. So, she’s braving gym visits. 

This one, Marauders Fitness (“We solemnly swear to get you swole!”) caught her eye. It’s run by four guys, each of whom are sexy in that sweaty-abs-on-display sort of way, if you’re someone who is into that sort of thing. (Lily… Lily was into that sort of thing). They offered a three-day visit pass, and this is Lily’s first day. 

She is already feeling the distinct exhaustion in her underused muscle, knowing that she’ll be deliciously sore tomorrow. All she needs is to lift some weights, and she’ll be done. 

She pulls out her phone to text Mary, who is stuck at work, as she sits down on the weight bench. Only, she doesn’t actually sit on the bench. 

Lily turns to look and jumps up again, just in time to see a guy with messy hair sit up from where he had laid down on the bench. “Oh, oh my god. I’m so–” 

She turns and runs. There’s really no other solution now, right? As much as she liked this gym, she can never, ever return. She honestly debates leaving her bag in the locker room, until she realizes her keys are in there, and she doubles back for it. 

“Hey, wait a minute!” 

She turns to see Mr. Messy Hair coming after her, jogging to catch up. “Nope, sorry. I have, um, an urgent appointment somewhere else. Across town. I have to go.” 

“You can’t go yet,” he says, walking beside her as she continues toward the locker room. 

“Yes, I can. Can’t be helped, must go.” She tries to walk a little faster, but this guy is tall and his long legs take big strides. 

“Well, before you run out, at least give me your name and number.” He looks down at her with a smirk, and she pretends it doesn’t make her stomach swoop. “You wouldn’t just sit on my face and run, would you?”

Lily groans. “You did not just use that line.” 

He laughs, and it’s such a full, happy sound. “It’s terrible, I know, but you can’t blame me. It’s like a once in a lifetime kind of a line.” 

“Listen, about that, I’m really sorry–” 

“NOPE!” He smiles as he cuts her off. “You don’t get to apologize for that. I think we were both a little at fault for that one, so if you apologize, I’m going to have to apologize, then you’ll think you have to apologize, and we’ll be stuck in a playback loop.” 

Lily scoffs. “Maybe, but only one of us sat on the other’s face.” 

“You’re really going to make me say it, aren’t you?” He crosses his arms over his chest, a playful tug to his lips. 

“Say what?”

He leans in, like he’s sharing a secret. “I really didn’t mind it that much.” 

Lily feels herself flush. “I really have to go.” 

“No, come on. You didn’t even finish your workout!” He gestures back at the gym. “Why don’t you finish? I can help if you want.”

She narrows her eyes at him. “Was that another double entendre?” 

His eyes go wide. “No. I mean, not intentionally. I just meant–” He sighs. “At least tell me you’ll come back?” 

Lily laughs, and there’s a hysterical note to it. “No, absolutely not.” 

“What if I throw in free personal trainer services?” 

She glares at him. “Do these services involve you laying on my weight bench?”

“No, I promise.” He waves over her shoulder. “I’ll even set it up with Sirius so you don’t have to deal with me.” 

She looks over her shoulder at three guys who are still standing by The Weight Bench (an incident like that deserves a Proper Title), grinning like they enjoy watching this train wreck. One of them–Sirius, presumably–waves back.

It’s only then that the realization lands hard in her stomach. She’s seen this guy before. All of them. “Oh my god. You’re the owner?” She walks past him, a bit in a daze. “I just sat on the gym owner’s face.” 

“It was a new experience for me, too.” He follows her as she walks back toward the locker room. “I’m James, by the way.” 

“Lily,” she says, but she’s hardly paying attention. 

“Are you still going to leave, Lily?”

A hysterical bubble of laughter pops out. “I should. I should move all the way back to my parents’ house and climb under my Barbie blanket and just give up.” 

“You could,” James says. “Or there’s another option and–I might be a bit biased, but I think it’s a better option.” 

“What’s that?” she asks, turning to face him. 

“Go on a date with me?” He’s really very cute when he smiles, glasses a little lopsided (that might be her fault) and a crooked grin. He holds his hands up in surrender. “Face sitting optional.” 

Lily laughs. She can’t help it; it’s just the most ridiculous thing to ever happen in her life. She holds up a finger. “One condition.” 

“Anything,” he says. 

“Please stop mentioning face sitting.” 

lily evans potter: womanhood, motherhood & morality

lily as the dream girl in canon and fan spaces

i want to talk about this while there isn't a current upsurge in the discourse

Lily Evans Potter is introduced to us as Lily Potter, the dead mother of Harry Potter. Lily and James potter, dead, leaving their poor, miraculous son to live with the dull, horrible Durselys. We only ever see her through, with the exception of her sister, the memory of men.

I've said before that I believe James and Lily are the ideal masculine and ideal feminine, both to Harry and in a metatextual way. parents are our introduction into gender roles, the "correct" way to be a man and woman. since Lily is dead she cannot disappoint Harry. she can be imagined as the perfect woman, which is, of course, a wife and mother. the dream girl!

Lily's death makes her a silent, ever-loving, beautiful young mother, for both Harry and the reader. James is slightly deconstructed in SWM, but Lily is not. She is a fierce protector, brave, clever, and only emotional (angry) once James, her future husband, provokes her enough.

in the text Lily is not truly presented as flawed in a meaningful way. the moral choices she makes: to build a relationship with Severus, to defend Severus, to break their relationship when he refuses to reject bigotry, to join the Order, to die for her child, are all the correct moral choices. these are the choices the narrative is telling us to respect.

women have, for the past 200 years or so, been conceived of as the moral center of the family.* Lily Evans Potter is the moral center of the series. her choice to die is mirrored by the main character, Harry, and sparks the beginning of victory. Harry's sacrifice is enabled by another mother, Narcissa, making the correct moral choice because the power of her maternal love urges her to this choice. finally, Voldemort's most powerful follower, Bellatrix, is killed by a housewife and mother, Molly, in a maternal rage at the idea of her daughter being murdered.

Lily's sacrifice and the emotions behind it are mirrored multiple times in the final battle because it and she are the moral center of the series.

that Harry is frequently told he has his mother's eyes, and that Dumbledore points out how his essential nature mirrors his mother's, further highlights Lily's character and her choices as implicitly good.

women, especially mothers, as our moral authorities, is an unconscious cultural belief we can see play out in the fandom and subfandoms that Lily is discussed in. we can all recall the characterization of Lily as the goody-two shoes that James has to change for, the characterization of Lily as "not like other girls", the BAMF characterization, the current near mommy dom to James characterization.

the characterization of Lily changes with our view of the best kind of woman. but she is, always, demonstrating a most "correct" way to be. maybe it's 2007 and she's telling James off—not fun, but right. or it's 2012 and she's not preoccupied with boys like her classmates. or it's 2019 and she always knows the right thing to say to Remus when he's down on himself. or it's 2025 and James is trailing after her like a puppy while she contemplates what size strap to use on him after she beats up a bigot.

We don't see a lot of moderate views on Lily. Above, I've discussed how Lily lovers tend to portray her. Lily haters, a smaller group from what I can tell, do not utilize these common fanon characterizations. They disparage her as an immoral, selfish, bad woman. The wholesale rejection of Lily as the moral center based on her perceived immorality is the other side of the coin.

I'll refer to people with this perspective as "Lily haters" though I am aware there are people who dislike her outside of the topics I'm discussing.

I rarely engage with Lily haters, though I am aware of their arguments that Lily was a bad friend to Severus, a social climber, a gold digger, or boring. All grave sins for the woman who's supposed to save everyone.

This perspective doesn't reject Lily as the moral center or the perfect woman, it is an argument that she's not fulfilling her role correctly. Her unwillingness to give Severus more chances is selfish, stuck-up, classist. Her desire for James is an further betrayal of Severus.

She's supposed to be the Madonna, why is she being a whore?

I believe Lily hate comes from a belief she failed at being the perfect woman/mother, and therefore she is worthless. A bitch. Weak willed. Oversexed. even by haters her role as the moral center is not questioned.

in both the og text and in the fandom supertext Lily is the moral center because of her role as mother. her status as the moral center is inextricably tied to her motherhood. since Lily being a mother is the point of her character, divorcing her from her motherhood often changes the foundation of her character.**

when her literal motherhood is removed from a depiction of her character, her metaphorical status as the perfect woman/mother is often still intact. this is seen in the characterizations I described earlier, and, I argue, in the belief that she's too good for James when it is used as a "justification" for shipping James with someone else.*** thereby, she is further purified, not even having been touched by a man. she's put on a pedestal, where she can't be touched, and is rarely noticed.

it is also frequently seen when she is written as a side character in a relationship with James, and the pair become the dual moral guides for the main couple.

this reflects James and Lily as the ideal masculine and feminine, as they are a perfectly harmonious couple when a side pairing. their implicit canonical roles are subconsciously reflected in fanon with little critique or commentary on the canon text.

Lily's entire character is crafted to be The Perfect Mother™️. whether she is literally a mother in her fanon depiction or not, she is still The Perfect Woman™️—and is still affected by the biases our culture has towards women and mothers.

thus, Lily is the dream girl in the text, the moral center only seen through a nostalgic veil, and a dream girl in fan spaces, as the moral guide for the men in her life who pegs her husband or is too pure for the touch of a man.

for more on gender in the wizarding world, based on gender in early modern england (pre the cult of domesticity) see this post

*see the cult of domesticity if you'd rather not read the article

**please like fucking do not fucking act like I'm saying you cannot do this. I swear to fucking god

***you don't need to justify your ships

LOVE THIS-

dorcas: im passing the phone to the most narcissistic bitch cause every time we talk about something he always feels the need to always wanna mention himself like everything is about him

sirius: *laughs* anyways im passing the phone to the most moodiest bitch every time we talk to this hoe she always crying about something we dont know or we dont know which personality we're gonna get

marlene: boy fuck you. anyways im passing the phone to the most secretive bitch in this group cause every time we wanna know something about this bitch or his emotions he wanna hide and act like he dont know what the fuck that mean

remus: thats cause its my business sweetie get your own. anyways im passing the phone to the bitch that always wanna fight me every time i dont express some type of shit

james: and what? youre my friend bitch open the fuck up. anyways im passing the phone to the most boujiest bitch in this group

mary: peasents. anyways im passing the phone to the most messiest bitch in the group

lily: bitch the only thing messy are your relationships

and you said this one wouldnt be a big ouch-

its just as ouch as the other three and they ouched very bad indeed!!

The Best Worst Thing to Have Ever Happened pt. 4

(hows remus doing? funny you should ask)

Read Parts 1-3 Here

AU in which Jily is alive and Harry chooses to stay with Wolfstar and all is not well.

tw: for alcohol use in this installment.

November 1995

It didn’t take long for Sirius to fall off the edge. It felt that Harry had barely left Remus’s office and Sirius was reaching for a bottle of firewhiskey and that was going to be an answer.

And Remus was helpless. Remus was just as ruined internally, watching his husband fall to pieces; holding his kid while he cried and apologized; dodging post from his best friends, and making excuses to keep them away.

Years of sobriety and evenings spent chatting around a record with cups of tea were scrapped and Remus stepped back into the role of holding Sirius’s hair back as he vomited into the nearest loo like he was 19 and convinced the world was ending.

So what did it matter if he spent his last moments plastered or hungover or somewhere in between? Because the world was ending.

And maybe it had, Remus catching himself looking at photographs on his desk of the three of them--so happy to have one another-- and sitting with the feeling that those days were gone. And the days of pushing Sirius into cold showers had returned when he swore that the last time had been the last time. Perhaps he should be grateful that he had gotten a fourteen-year respite period.

Fourteen-year remission was…pretty good.

What’s anything matter now? Sirius had said, words mushing together, bottle stuck to his hands and a cigarette in the other. Fire, fire, fire. Coughing after every drag because lungs weren’t prepared for the sudden attack of chemicals and heartache.

Sirius had barely been to work. The first two weeks writing saying he was ill, colleagues so concerned they sent flowers. The next one he was in and out as fast as he could be, and if anyone noticed the dark purple circles under his eyes or the knots in his hair or the way Sirius couldn’t even be bothered to clean his desk anymore, they didn’t say anything. Remus thought back to when James and Lily had first died, and they were left holding their child, and on the receiving end of sympathetic looks that made Remus want to scream. Like a muggle-circus freakshow. Come one, come all, everyone gather around and watch the worst thing that could happen, happen. Isn’t it…terrible?

It was terrible. This was worse.

“Sirius!” a voice shouted through the mirror, taken out of the back pocket of Sirius’s jeans as he pitched himself over the loo. Remus had been standing by, listening to wretching for nearly a half-hour.

Remus sighed, picking up the mirror from the bathroom floor, “Hi, Harry.”

Harry’s eyebrows knitted together, “Where’s Sirius?”

A violent cough from the toilet.

“He’s sick, Harry.”

“Still?”

“Yeah,” Remus nodded slowly, deciding this was the best course of action. Even if Remus was tempted to tell Harry the truth in hopes it would get Sirius out of the stupor he created. “Sorry. Did you need something?”

“I just…wanted to talk to him. He got sick and I haven’t…since I shouted at you both….”

“I know, love.”

“I did really well on my last Transfiguration exam…did you hear?”

Remus smiled, stepping out of the bathroom, though he kept an eye on Sirius’s body curled around the toilet as he did so, “I did. Professor McGonagall was quite impressed. Was the talk of the teacher's quarters.”

“It wasn’t that big of news...”

“I assure you it was, Hermiones got some competition if you keep that up,” Remus told him.

“I wrote James and Lily about it too,” Harry’s face was still smiling, though slightly weaker two names still feeling odd coming from his mouth. Harry had called them Mum and Dad when they were mentioned in photographs. Harry asked Remus to tell him stories about his Mum and Dad; asked about their favorite recipes and if they were smart and did his Dad have a favorite record? But now that they were here, in actuality, Remus watched Harry retreat into himself, wary of the situation entirely, taking cues from himself and Sirius.

Mum and Dad...I just doesn't feel right…I can’t explain it.

“James said…well, I remember you telling me he was good at Transfiguration?”

“He was, probably is still, I just haven’t asked him to transfigure anything recently.”

The gagging stopped from the bathroom.

“Do I…Sirius is okay, right?”

“He’s okay, Harry.”

“Like, I don’t need to be…like he’s not going to have to go to St. Mungos for a while, right? Like for a disease no one knows about? It’s…just a cold and he’s…being stubborn?”

Remus laughed, “He’s being very stubborn and refusing to take potions to help him.”

Harry’s brows furrowed, “HEY! STOP BEING A TWAT!”

“Harry,” Remus said lightly but was relieved hearing a small chuckle from Sirius’s direction. He watched as Sirius managed to pick his head up off the porcelain, looking towards Remus with watering, bloodshot eyes, one of his hands extended in his direction. Remus was tempted to hand Sirius the mirror but thought better of it as another cough emerged from the depths of his husband.

“Did that work? Is he well enough to scold me?”

“How about you call again tomorrow and we’ll both tell you to watch your mouth, hm?”

Harry nodded, “Okay. I love you? I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

Remus hated how a statement had become a question. Harry checking for confirmation from the people who had raised him if the love was still there or if it had vanished the moment paperwork was passed. Remus had been doing his best to ensure Harry didn’t have to go searching and asking for love, but it was hard when Remus was doing it alone. Something about Sirius always being the one to hold things in place, Harry and Remus both moving in the world uncertain and wishing they had the confidence of Sirius. Taking strength and courage when they needed it, only now…

Courage had been flushed down the toilet.

Sirius had nothing left to give or loan out to anyone.

“You will. I love you very much. We love you very much.”

The mirror went dark.

Sirius’s outstretched hand dropped on the tile floor once more.

The wretching had finished.

Remus almost preferred those noises to the sobs that replaced them.

--

“Is Sirius still mad? I thought we were going to try to all…work it out,” Lily asked, eyeing the empty chair next to Remus where Sirius was supposed to be at their dinner table. A Saturday after a Quidditch game that Sirius had missed. The first one ever, and it Remus swore he could hear his heart break alongside Harry’s when green eyes searched the stand for someone who wasn’t going to show.

Remus laughed shortly, “Sirius isn’t mad. Sirius is drunk. Sirius hasn’t been sober in weeks and--”

James sighed, “He always did know how to throw an expert fit... Does this…happen a lot?”

Remus’s expression darkened. Hairs prickling up on his arms. “You do not know how wrong you are.”

You remember seventeen, and eighteen and nineteen. But you weren’t there I didn’t get out of bed for weeks, consumed with grief and cries from an infant that only stopped when Sirius held him. You weren’t there when Sirius was the only thing propping us up.

James slowed his movements, fork hovering mid-air, “I’m…okay, maybe--”

“I could count on one hand the number of times Sirius has gotten drunk since Harry’s been with us. One hand. And one of those was our fucking wedding,” Remus pushed himself away from the table roughly shaking his head, “I’m suddenly not hungry at all.”

“Remus, we didn’t mean anything by it,” Lily tried reaching her hand out to catch Remus’s arm, but she missed. Hitting nothing but air.

“Didn’t you? Ever stop to think about why he’s drinking in the first place?”

--

“I’m sorry,” Sirius mumbled into the side of Remus’s neck for the thousandth time that evening, arms wrapped around Remus’s torso tightly as they sat in an armchair together in Remus’s quarters at Hogwarts. It wasn’t exactly an easy fit, Sirius’s legs thrown over Remus’s lap, and still hanging off the edge; Remus’s arm sandwiched between Sirius’s chest and his own torso, unable to move except for fingertips. Sirius plastered to Remus like moss on the side of the tree and Remus couldn’t find a single complaint, especially with the cool temperatures and the oceans of alcohol and cigarettes and lies Sirius had put between them.

“If you tell me you’re sorry one more time, I’m going to give you detention…” Remus responded, not looking up from his book.

“Could be fun.”

“It would be the opposite of fun. I’d make it so incredibly awful that you’ll never dream of apologizing again. Unless of course, you snuff something up horribly, then I expect nothing less than a very well-crafted apology.”

“And flowers?”

“Mhmm…” Remus hummed and he felt Sirius’s laugh against his skin. A welcome sensation after weeks of trying to find the light at the end of the tunnel; trying to make his own laughter when it just didn’t have the same punch. Remus wasn’t ever good at telling jokes and it was part of the reason he loved Sirius so much.

The best I could make of this situation was firewhiskey, Moons.

“James is sorry too. Lils…”

Remus also loved Sirius for how easy he was able to forgive when it was someone he loved. Remus…didn’t, still holding reservations towards James and Lily for torpedoing a perfectly good family for their own selfish agendas. Time hadn’t been fair to anyone in the equation, James and Lily morphing into versions of themselves Remus didn’t quite recognize. There was once a time where Remus would’ve defended James until his dying breath; would’ve walked through hot coals for Lily, gone to the end of the Earth for both of them, but time had changed that. Remus didn’t know these people any more than Harry did and Remus was only focused on the two people in his life who stayed. Sirius’s heart was far bigger. Remus loved him for that too.

Far more willing to make space even after being burned. Like all the times he continued giving birthday cards to his brother; opening letters from his parent’s hoping this time it would be different. Letting James and Lily back in was no different. Sirius could heal the burns and pretend they were never there in the first place, and Remus….well Remus remembered the date and time of every scar he received.

“James wasn’t the one holding your hair back.”

“He used to be.”

“I know.” Remus turned his head so he could meet Sirius’s lips with his own.

“Keep it together anyway?”

“Keep it together anyway.”

The door to Remus’s office opened, a knock not needed, Harry strolling in dark blue hoodie pulled up over his messy hair.

“Are we going to rob Gringotts later?” Sirius asked, pushing off Remus the slightest bit so he could see Harry more. Harry rolled his eyes but took the hood off his head, jumping into the other armchair.

“It’s cold.”

“In Gringotts?”

Harry rolled his eyes again, but Remus didn’t miss the smile threatening to escape, “Outside, and gave my hat to Cedric. You know, like a proper gentleman.”

Sirius laughed, “And what were you doing outside with him?”

Three for three on the eye-rolls and Remus laughed, putting his book down and waving his arm to start the kettle, same as they did every Sunday afternoon, happy to have three again, instead of just the two.

“You think he’s still allowed for Christmas Eve dinner?” asked Harry

“Why wouldn’t he be?” Remus asked, “Everyones invited.”

“Yeah well…” Harry shrugged, leaning back into the chair and chewing on the edge of his thumbnail.

Remus inhaled deeply, squeezing Sirius’s hand and wiggling under the weight. Something to keep him busy. Remus could make tea and ignore the bubbles in the pit of his stomach. The ones that had been simmering since September and had nearly boiled over that past month. Sirius understood, legs coming off of Remus’s lap to let him up.

“Babe, last I checked, Christmas Eve dinner is still at our house, and also, I had planned on making pudding for Cedric because I know he likes it so well and if he doesn’t come, I’ll have mass leftovers and we can’t have that,” Sirius told him.

“So…just…for the pudding?”

“And because he’s your boyfriend and is always invited. But…pudding comes first.”

Remus had two reasons he was keeping it together.

And he barely was.