Robert Wood Lynn, "About The Phones", Mothman Apologia

Robert Wood Lynn, "About the Phones", Mothman Apologia

Fault Lines pt. 5

Read Fault Lines parts 1-4 here (links to part 4 but everything else is there)

In which Remus and Sirius are divorced and raising harry and doing their very best.

(this one is about 5k and pretty mild.)

(one more installment to go after this.)

September 1st, 1991

The scarlet steam engine slowly disappeared from Sirius’ view as the tightness in his chest grew. He knew this day was coming, and it was so much worse than he imagined it. He had driven to the platform with Harry, his newly eleven-year-old reminding him so much of James as his mouth ran a mile a minute with questions, excitement in every word. Remus was beside Sirius in the passenger seat, and Sirius watched as the other man reached behind to put his hand on Harry’s leg to keep him from bouncing too much. Not that the movement bothered either of them, but because it was far more likely Harry would hit his head on the roof of the car and that would delay the trip to Hogwarts. Something about Remus’ touch could tether both of them so easily.

I’m so proud of you whispered into messy black hair.

I’ll send a lot of letters, I promise, can I go now said back, even though pre-teen arms were still wrapped around Sirius’ waist.

We love you

And then Harry was gone with the train and Sirius was fighting back tears he hadn’t expected, locked like a statue on the platform for several dozen minutes.

“This…is the worst day of my life, I think.” Sirius finally spoke, turning his head towards Remus who was standing next to him, lightweight cardigan thrown over a t-shirt, and worn loafers.

Remus’ eyes met his own somberly. Maybe it was the worst day of his life too. But then the corners of his mouth turned up in a wry half-smile, “James and Lily dying.”

“I think this is slightly worse.”

“Remember when we got divorced?”

“Oh, this is definitely worse than that.”

“We…also got married,” Remus said lightly and Sirius finally managed a tiny laugh, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Most of the other parents had already left the platform, Remus and Sirius standing there feeling like the only two people left on earth. The last time Sirius had felt that way had been November 1st, 1981 when everything went from bad to worse and he held onto Remus even as he was being taken away to Azkaban, fingertips touching until they couldn’t anymore. The tension between them had leveled out. Broken glass on the floor of their relationship--what they were calling co-parenting-- cleared away and they both remembered to put on shoes now before walking to avoid getting cut.

Conversations drifted back into being pleasant.

They both dropped their wands.

They had lived through one war by the skin of their teeth, they didn’t cause another with no one else to blame but themselves. A truce that felt similar to forgiveness.

“Harry leaving is still worse but…that may get precedent over James and Lily,” Sirius said lightly.

“I was thinking the same thing. It was so fucking hot that day. I was actually sweating the entire time. Really that should’ve been the sign.”

“The pianist rushed too. I swear you were running down the aisle towards me.”

“Quick and painless. Like pulling off a bandage.”

Sirius laughed again, looking down at his feet to scuff the toe of his black boots on the ground. “Thanks.”

Dark humor to brighten a dark situation and to keep Sirius from slipping away into the darkness as well.

“I just didn’t want you crying in public, that’d be embarrassing.”

“I know.”

“You want to go?”

“Not really,” Sirius shrugged thinking of his haunted house in London. Harry was gone and the ghosts would surely come back. “…you wouldn’t want to go get absolutely plastered, would you? Black out and forget this day ever happened?”

He waited for Remus to tell him he had work tomorrow. Hell, Sirius had work tomorrow and an entire day of taking notes on the wizarding world's legal system. But managing a hangover and focusing all of his energy on staying awake tomorrow seemed better than going home to emptiness.

“Two conditions.”

“Hm?

“You’re buying and we leave the pub by 4.”

Sirius grinned slowly, “Easy enough, Moons.”

November 1992

It had been ages since Remus had truly seen Sirius lose every ounce of composure and unleash every swear word under the sun at someone else. Parenthood and time had made Sirius think before rushing into situations and opening his mouth when there needn't be a response. It had been even longer since he had heard Sirius use his last name as influence and pressure to get something done, thinking back to Sirius arguing with the ministry on his behalf to amend a custody agreement.

My fucking vault funds half this place. You’ll do what I’m asking, Fudge.

Remus often wondered if roles were reversed if he would have it in him to move as strong and sure as Sirius did in the world, or if Remus would still pause and hesitate.

Remus stood in the hospital wing, wincing slightly as he listened to the conversation Sirius was having with Dumbledore and McGonagall in the hallway, barely behind a closed door while keeping an eye on Harry in the hospital bed. Their pre-teen looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there with his good hand over his face, the other arm wrapped and in a sling.

“His best intentions? Bullocks! My godson’s arm was turned into jelly and you call that the best of intentions? This man is responsible for teaching children? I want him fired. Immediately.” Sirius shouted from the hallway.

“Mr. Black, I understand you’re upset with the result but we simply cannot suspend a--” Professor McGonagall started, their former Head of House trying to reign in the thunderstorm that was Sirius Black. She had once been an expert at it, the only professor in all of Hogwarts able to get Sirius to stop talking with a single look; the only one who had perhaps taken the time to see the wounded insides of the eldest Black boy. Remus distinctly remembered Sirius giving her a hug at graduation and McGonagall wiping away a tear at something he had said to her.

“Like hell, you can’t,” Sirius said, “I will call a Board meeting right now and he will be voted out so quickly you won’t even be able to say “lemon drop”! I don’t want to have to go over your head and do that. I’d rather we come to an understanding right now.”

“Make. Him. Stop.” Harry muttered, looking wide-eyed at Remus, “He never does this.”

“Oh, you’re mad if you think I’m getting involved,” Remus told Harry, “You want me to go into the fire?”

“At this rate, he’s going to get Dumbledore sacked too for hiring Lockhart in the first place!” Harry pleaded, “It’s just a…broken arm.”

“He did vanish your bones, Harry.”

“It’s fine. If Lockhart's fired, Snape or something is going to cover the class and then I’ll have two periods of that greasy-git--”

“Hey, he is a professor.”

“Yeah, and a greasy-git. Two things can be true.”

Remus bit back a snort and raised an eyebrow, “You’ve been talking with your godfather too much.”

“So you call him Severus?”

“Let’s not go that far, love…” Remus paused to listen again, as Harry's grimace returned at the unmistakable sound of Sirius slipping into French every other word. “They don’t know French, Remus! Please, go do something before everyone's sacked!”

“Okay, okay, you’re right.” Remus held up his hands in defeat before walking out of the hospital wing towards the direction of the argument. Sirius was in the hallway, clad in a burgundy sweatshirt, his hair pulled back with a glittering gold scrunchy and Remus couldn’t help but find it impressive that Sirius was scolding two very well-respected educators within an inch of their life in such ridiculous attire.

“I assure you, Sirius, we are not taking this incident lightly,” Dumbledore spoke in his calm voice that Remus knew drove Sirius up a wall.

“So you have a three-strike system? Fucking idiot gets to--”

“He is a teacher, Mr. Black,” Professor McGonagall interrupted.

“Yeah, and a fucking idiot too. Two things can be true at once,” Sirius told her and Remus pinched the bridge of his nose at the familiarity of the dialogue. Too much time around his godfather had been right. “Is your plan just to hope that he doesn’t do something like this again? Or wait to see if he does something worse? I’m sorry, Albus, but that’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard and if you honestly believe that’s the best solution then you’re a fucking idiot--”

“Sirius,” Remus finally said, putting his hand on his ex-husband's shoulder, “You have made your point, very loud and clear. We get it.”

“So tell me why Lockhart isn’t packing his trunk?” Sirius folded his arms and looked at Remus, his jaw clenching in a way that was very seventeen and not thirty-two.

“Finding a replacement teacher in the middle of a school year is challenging, Mr. Black,” explained McGonnagal, her face looking relieved at the intervention.

“Remus can do it,” Sirius said immediately.

“I--what? Sirius, come on, be reasonable.”

“I am. You’ve been teaching for years now, he’s a private tutor, you know what you’re doing, you got a NEWT in Defense…Remus can do it.”

“I promise you, that isn’t necessary, he’s being belligerent,” Remus kept his hand on Sirius’ shoulder, as he looked at the faces of his former Headmaster and Head of House. It was just supposed to be an innocent game of Quidditch; there were plans to take Harry out to dinner for celebrating and even more plans that involved a joint and a bottle of wine at Grimmauld Place after. It had become their own tradition since Harry had been on the team. They hadn’t missed a game and they hadn’t missed an opportunity to rejoice in a victory or wallow in a loss with expensive alcohol. There had even been an occasion where Remus baked edibles, and he woke up the next morning in his pants sprawled out in Sirius’ sitting room couch. Of course, Sirius had made it to his bed that evening but had also decided to garden in the dead of night, his ex-husband absolutely horrified at the fig tree in the middle of the kitchen the next morning. Remus was still hopeful it would end that way, assuming Sirius could get control of his temper and also assuming Dumbledore and McGonnagal caved to his request of having Lockhart sacked.

Otherwise, there would be a Board meeting. Remus had no doubts about that.

“May we have until the end of term, Sirius?” asked Dumbledore.

“No, but I’ll give you two weeks.”

“I would take that, it’s only going to get worse,” Remus offered, “I’m not…going to accept the position but if you do need assistance with proctoring exams, I am more than happy to help, sir.” Sirius made a small noise in the back of his throat at the title. There was once a time all of them had thought Dumbledore to be the most powerful wizard they had met; the person who had all the answers. Remus wasn’t so sure anymore, holding onto the last kernel of faith, but Sirius had abandoned all of that somewhere in the middle of the war. Somewhere between getting refused a trial and thrown into prison at the hands of the other man even if it was just twenty-four hours. When Harry had been delivered to the doorstep of Lily’s sister without taking Remus into consideration.

“Thank you, Mr. Lupin.”

“I’ll be in touch in two weeks,” Sirius’ tone was brisk, and without an ounce of respect, grey eyes focused on the retreating backs of Dumbledore and McGonagall, robes trailing on the ground.

“Feel better?” Remus asked, catching Sirius’ gaze in his own, and Sirius rolled his eyes. “No, no, please tell me. Did that make you feel good?"

“Okay, I…might have lost my cool.”

“Might have?” laughed Remus, and Sirius cracked a smile running his hand over his hair and taking out the gold scrunchy, putting it on his wrist, “I think you just taught Harry at least three new swear-words.”

“Did…did I not put a silencing charm up?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ smiled grew, after taking a moment to look mildly ashamed as he reflected on all the words he had spoken, “On the positive, I think I also got you a job?”

“Impulse control is at a zero sometimes, I swear, Sirius..."

“His arm had no bones, Remus! None! Nothing I said was untrue and I stand by that.” Sirius said pointedly, “Now do I…wish…I had been able to calmly state my dissatisfaction? Sure. But…I think I was effective.”

Remus shook his head, “Some things don’t change, hm?”

“So you disagree with what I said?” Sirius asked, “You think he’s a perfectly competent man and I was being too harsh?”

“Oh, no, I think he is also a…what did you say, oh, yeah, fucking idiot, but that doesn’t mean I’d advertise it.”

“I did it for both of us. I believe that is what one calls, taking one for the team.”

Remus laughed again, finally moving his hand from Sirius’ shoulder to pat the side of his face, “Hothead.”

“Yeah. I know. Take it up with my mother.”

“And you’ll have a word with your godson about being respectful and--”

“YOU HAVE TO GIVE A WRITTEN APOLOGY, SIRIUS. AN APOLOGY TO ME FOR BEING EMBARASSING!” shouted Harry from his hospital bed and Sirius laughed even louder, the anger that was once there evaporating into thin air.

“Kid is so lucky. One of us is going to teach at Hogwarts, and the other one is on The Board of Governors and causes scenes in hallways…” Sirius mused, “Of the things we’ve done, James and Lily would be most proud of this moment.”

“You definitely gave Lily a run for her money with that dressing down…”

March 1993

“Cheers to the youngest seeker of the century and a winning game!” Sirius raised his glass of whiskey up to Remus’ butterbeer, the two of them sat at the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade after another Gryffindor victory. Remus had been mortified when Sirius had imposed the idea of him teaching at Hogwarts upon Dumbledore and McGonagall, but when a letter came two weeks later asking if he would be interested in the position, Remus was surprised at how inspired he felt.

Teaching at Hogwarts had always been the dream. It had been Remus’ favorite place as a kid. It had been where Remus had fallen in love with magic and the idea of teaching in the first place. And even if the position had been offered to him the pressure of a persistent and furious Sirius Black who had more money and influence than he knew what to do with, Remus was nevertheless willing to take the meeting.

This was the shake he had been waiting for. The wake-up call.

The change that he needed to get him out of the routines that he had set up, and the rut he had unconsciously gotten himself in despite trying to put himself out there. Accepting the position had forced him to move; had forced him out of his carefully curated comfort zone; had made space for him to grow and it only took a week of teaching for him to floo to Grimmauld Place and say thank you with his arms around Sirius.

Remus was grateful more often now. Making up for the years he hadn't said it at all.

“Cheers,” Remus responded, taking a sip out of the bottle, taking in his surroundings. A few of the other professors not on duty were trickling in as well, Remus giving them nods in greeting as they walked in.

“So now that you’re on the other side of the equation, is Snape still as big of an asshole? Do you put spiders in his porridge in the morning?”

“That’s childish, Sirius.” Remus told him, “But there was one day I kept charming a pebble to lodge itself in his shoes because he kept interrupting my lesson with un-urgent matters.”

Sirius laughed, a few of the professors looking in Remus’ direction at the sound of joyful thunder, “You always had the best ideas.”

“The best part was he couldn’t point fingers at me without sounding insane.” Remus grinned, taking another sip, “It’s…nice having…colleagues though.”

“Is that what you’re calling them?”

“What?”

“Who’s the one you keep making eyes at?”

Remus choked, a little, and Sirius grinned mischievously, “I don’t…I am not making eyes,” Remus told him, though as he was speaking his eyes were very much trailing over to the other staff table. Professor Andre Babbling had been appointed the new Professor for Ancient Runes at the start of this year, joining the rounds of younger faculty at Hogwarts. A few years ahead of Remus in school, in Ravenclaw, Professor Andre Babbling was definitely easy on the eyes with his dark skin and brown eyes that caught morning sunlight just right at the staff table. Remus had stuck with pleasantries initially when he sat at the staff table his first month of teaching and tried not to escort himself to the hospital wing for heart failure when Babbling smiled at him and a flush blossomed over his entire body.

He had always been a fucking fool for a smile and Babbling happened to have a dimple which made matters much worse.

But Babbling turned out to be talkative and passionate about a subject Remus had found dry while taking it, though he was incredibly thankful for the NEWT he deemed useless because it gave him a leg to stand on. Remus could pretend to be interested in something if it meant he could be in close proximity of a smile and a dimple and brown eyes and long, lean forearm muscles that poked out from under his robes. In fact, Remus could pretend to do a lot of things if it meant that someone was looking at him again the way Babbling did.

No one had looked at Remus like he was made of something special since Sirius. He had tried--random dates and meetings at coffee shops ending in calling cabs and making up excuses to leave early and wishing them away to the opposite end of the world so Remus could avoid them entirely--but none of them burned Remus alive with desire or possibility. Babbling looked at Remus like he was a divine entity, and Remus didn’t want him to stop. He missed what it felt like to be the center of someone else's world, and he missed what it felt like to look across a room and know someone else would be looking back.

“I mean, I can always make a show and turned around and look and guess myself, if--”

“No, please don’t do that,” Remus said, his hand shooting out to keep Sirius from turning obviously over his shoulder, “It’s…the Runes professor. The one next to Sinastra?”

Sirius hummed, “You always had good taste.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“I wasn’t, I was referring to that bloke before me, what was his name…Cresswell? He was handsome too, in an odd sort of way. With the blonde hair and all.” Sirius shrugged, “So what's your plan?”

“Plan?”

“He’s making eyes back. The chemistry is palpable.”

“I cannot believe you’re instigating this.”

“It’s one of my better qualities.” Sirius took a sip of his whiskey, “You should go sit over there.”

“W-what? No, I…I can’t.”

“Why not? You work here. You can join their lunch table or whatever, you’re cool enough.”

“I…what…about you?”

“I’ll finish my drink and be on my way. Don’t worry about me.”

“Sirius, really, it’s okay, I don’t--” but Sirius rolled his eyes, tossing back the rest of his whiskey, and stood up from the bar, putting several galleons on the counter for their check. There was no bitterness in grey eyes; not a drop of resentment or fear that Remus was moving on after years of holding on to a golden safety net of consistency. For better and for worse, Sirius was his last connection to familiarity. One more step and all that was gone.

It was terrifying. And exhilarating.

Is this how Sirius lived his life? On the edge of becoming all the time?

“I’ll see you next time, Remus. Let me know how it goes, yeah?”

“I…just…what do I say?”

“Maybe start with Hi? And then…end with I am very well hung.” Sirius teased giving Remus a wink and a cheeky grin.

“You’re…impossible,” Remus muttered but Sirius just gave him a wave and walked out of the Three Broomsticks, going to find his motorcycle that was parked in the village. Remus took another sip from his butterbeer and a deeper breath to steel his nerves.

He took the final step, the solid ground falling out from underneath his feet and he grabbed a helmet, ready for a crash landing as his eyes connected with deep brown ones from across the room once more.

June 1993

“Did you know Remus has a boyfriend?” asked Harry almost as soon as he got in the car, no longer on the platform and in a safe place. Remus had would be at Hogwarts for a little longer, finishing up grading and end-of-term exams.

“I…heard rumors.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, a scowl on his face as he buckled his seatbelt and Sirius raised his eyebrows at the gruffness of the response.

“It means of the things that is better for us not to talk about in extensive detail, dating is one of them and I have only heard whispers in passing of this boyfriend,” Sirius explained putting the key into the ignition.

“Yeah, well, it’s another teacher. At Hogwarts.”

“I know.”

“It’s weird.”

“Him dating or the teacher part?”

“The teacher part…” Harry shifted in his seat, slouching down further and Sirius smiled a little as he backed out of the car park. Thirteen was around the corner and was apparent in every inch of Harry’s demeanor. “I dunno. It’s different.”

“Have you talked with him about it?”

“He talked with me about it…so, I guess.”

But there was a reason Harry had chosen him for this conversation.

“I’m listening, kid.”

“Not a kid…”

“You’re my kid and I love you.”

Harry softened, at the phrase, apparently never too old and mature to hear those three words. “It’s…is he all of a sudden going to start coming to Christmas? Or when I turn thirteen is…he going to be there? Or if we all go to a Quidditch match, will you get another ticket for him?” he asked in rapid succession, “I know you see people but they don’t exactly stick around and you’ve never had me meet them. And…Remus did? Sort of? Or I already kind of knew Professor Babbling from around school. I’m just not sure what to make of it.”

“Love, I think these are questions you can ask Remus.”

“I’m asking you.”

“If…I buy tickets to a match, I’ll ask you who you want there. You don’t even have to bring me if you don’t want. I’ll buy the tickets and let you go with Bill Weasley as your responsible guardian.”

“The twins? They’re older.”

“Not a chance,” Sirius grinned, “And…it’s your birthday party, you get to decide who is there. And as for Christmas dinner at The Weasleys…that might be up to Remus, or… whoever extends the invitations, but…our holiday can still be just for us if that's what you want.”

“I don’t want to make Remus sad if…I dunno.”

“I promise, we can take it, Harry.”

December 1993

“Is…he always like that?” asked Andre, walking with Remus outside into the winter snow, just outside Grimmauld Place. His dark eyelashes had snowflakes clinging to them, the magical drive disappearing as they got closer to the street where there was a portkey he could take back to his flat. Remus had wanted him to meet Harry outside of school. Remus wanted him to meet Sirius at all, the two of them only saying hello in passing prior to dinner that evening when Sirius would call on the mirror or be in Remus' office at Hogwarts for tea on the weekends.

“Who Harry? He’s thirteen. I think he’ll be like that until he’s eighteen or so say the adolescent development books. Teenagers shouldn’t be a surprise to you.”

“Not Harry. He was…how I expected him to be.”

“...Sirius?”

“Your ex.” Andre confirmed, “Is he always like that?”

“I…think you have to be more specific,” Remus said, brows furrowing as he tried to think of infractions or tears Sirius might have caused throughout the evening. He had set the table for Remus; he made polite conversation and told appropriate stories to Andre about them back in Hogwarts; he had kept Harry in check, intervening with a light touch on Harry’s shoulder or asking their teenager for help with someone minor just so Harry could have a break from meeting my parent’s new boyfriend when his ex-husband was in the room. Remus actually had every intention of rushing back inside and expressing endless gratitude for Sirius, unable to comprehend that the evening had gone so well when he had been tossing and turning about it for days. It seemed so silly to have lost sleep over it now.

“I don’t know. He’s just…kind of a lot? Does he always offer to take your plate? Or…did he offer to make dessert for this evening or did you ask him to? Playing music you liked? All the stories and asking me questions--the eye contact was…was that an intimidation thing or is he just like that?”

Remus stared for a moment before laughing at the absurdity of Sirius’ eye contact ever being intimidating. Thinking that if Sirius had wanted to ruin the evening, he very well could have and it wouldn’t have been with eye contact. Laughter was apparently the wrong response, Andre’s hand pulling from Remus’s instantly.

“You’re..you’re serious?”

“I don’t like you laughing at me. I just had dinner with your ex-husband and you’re laughing?”

“It’s just Sirius,” Remus explained, “That’s just…the allure of Sirius Black. I promise it wears off.”

“It seems to me like he’s still into you.”

Remus had to clear his throat violently to keep from laughing again, “Andre…I know how Sirius looks on the outside. But…that’s just what he does.”

“Takes care of you?”

“You have to understand we have a lot of history and we have a kid together. Of course, he’s going to take care of me but it’s not like we’re super crazy close and have a bunch of inside jokes and…”

“But you do.”

They did.

“Okay…so we do. That doesn’t mean--”

“Remus, I fancy you quite a lot. I’d like to spend more time getting to know Harry and spending time with you. I just can’t see where I fit into this if he’s in the picture.”

“We’re co-parents Andre. He has to have a place in my life.”

“You’re not just co-parents. You’re best friends. And…I don’t know if I can stick around if your best friend is him.”

“It’s not a competition. It’s not…I have love to give to both of you. It’s not either-or.”

“I guess I don’t see it that way.”

What they don’t tell you when you stand at an altar with someone, holding onto their hands and watching eyes mist up with emotion is that when it all ends, you’ll spend the rest of your life comparing people to them. Unintentionally, but it happens. Remus did it with Andre, making lists of qualities that mimicked Sirius’ thinking Merlin, I have a type; making a contrasting list of qualities that couldn’t be more different and seeing which one he preferred. He stared back at Andre and the hands that were now hidden away in coat pockets.

Funny how history could repeat itself.

I don’t know how to make it fit anymore. I don’t know if we fit anymore.

Harry was in his bedroom, running upstairs as soon as Remus and his guest had walked out the front door, leaving Sirius to clean up the kitchen on his own. He left the pie and bottle of wine out, pouring a glass for Remus whenever he walked back in while he got his own glass of whiskey.

Remus had his arm around someone new, and Remus was happy for it. The golden hour light that Remus had radiated in their teenage years-- the light that Sirius had fallen for in the first place-- had returned with a vengeance, with the arrival of a man who was well-read and just as dry. Professor Babbling was growing flowers in the places Sirius had just made holes. Remus’s garden had flourished after all the years spent watering it with heartache and nurturing it with his own delicate hands, and Sirius was glad for it.

Sirius jumped up onto the counter, piece of pie in hand and he heard the front door open and close, followed by footsteps. Remus walked in looking crestfallen, his arms wrapped around his body. Coat still on, hands slightly blue.

Sirius put his fork down and tilted his head, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Remus said simply looking up to meet Sirius’ eyes.

“Alright?”

“I just broke up with my boyfriend after…I thought tonight went surprisingly well.”

Sirius made to get off the counter but Remus held his hands out. A nonverbal signal not to come any closer. He stayed where he was.

“I…thought it went well too.”

“You’re too much,” Remus told him.

“What?”

“That’s what he said. That you were too much. You…did too much for me. You...made dessert? And…” Remus looked down at his feet, mismatched socks on the tile floor, “You don’t even know you’re doing it, but you do it, and…I forget how brightly you can burn sometimes because I’ve gotten used to it. And I think about how lucky I am to be in a position where I’m just used to reaping the benefits of all the shit you do, all the time, but you’re too much, Sirius.”

Voices from his past crept into his memory; ones that sounded more like his mother and father than he cared to admit.

You take up too much space.

You’re too loud. Be quiet, Sirius.

Don’t ask so many questions. Speak when you’re spoken to.

You’re a headache, Sirius.

Get out my sight, Sirius.

One that sounded like the shell of Remus when their marriage had gone on way too long and neither of them could see a way out. Before the counseling. Before admitting defeat.

Just stop, Sirius. I don’t need you to do things for me anymore.

You can’t fix everything.

“I’m…sorry.” Sirius told him, “I…I can take a step back, Remus. I won’t be here, next time? Make myself scarce. You didn’t need to…you should be with him. It’s my fault."

Sirius always admitted fault first. Willing to take the fall for someone else's sins after an easy life of never having to be accountable for his own. Privileged, arrogant, Sirius Black. He could take it.

It could be his fault. Even if it wasn’t.

He could dig the grave. Even if he knew there was only space for him in there.

Ice the bruises to make the swelling go down faster.

Bandage Remus’s fist and even his boyfriends. Heal the scrapes and the cuts and let them take another swing. Remus had always been worth the hurt.

It could be his fault. Sirius was too much, after all. He had been told that before. It wasn’t anything new.

Remus shook his head, picking at his nails. Sirius wanted to stand up and put his hands over Remus's to stop the movement. But he stayed. “We’re…not in love anymore, you and I. We’re not, and I don’t want to be either. But…I don’t think I can go on in this life without you. The bloke who I can sit with at a table and say what I’m thinking. I’ll take that over another brush with love.”

Sirius would too.

Every time.

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scatteredbeans

2 months ago

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

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

Previously we had seen Sirius surprising Remus with a kiss Today we’re witnessing Remus surprising Sirius with a hug ^ω^

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

sirius and remus were the true chaotic duo at hogwarts. like sure nobody could ever predict what james and sirius were up to. but we all know remus was the real chaotic force behind the marauders. plus, lets be real, when he was alone with james the worst thing you'd find sirius doing is like enchanting a toilet to sing opera.

but find sirus and remus alone together, and on top of the enchanted plumbing, you'd see a whole lot more of them that you'd bargained for. like honestly i don't know what the other prefects would have dreaded more. finding sirus and remus turning every suit of armor into a fluffy bunny suit, or them shagging behind said suits of armor.

Reblog if you're gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender or a supporter.

This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.

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scatteredbeans

3 years ago

DONT. JUST DONT.

DONT play the part in making your child's life shit. home is supposed to feel safe, not a place a child cant wait to run away from as soon as they turn 18!!!!

it really does fuck with our life. so please JUST PLEASE STOP!

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scatteredbeans

2 years ago

(a snippet from the same unpublished raising harry AU except make it wolfstar for all of you who have been suffering through shitposts, have a treat for sticking around <3)

context: sirius and harry relocate to grimmauld place.

“Are you sure you’re going to be--”

“Ask me that one more time, Remus,” Sirius said harsher than he intended.

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright here?”

“Arse.”

Remus gave him a wry grin over his glass of wine, lips already stained berry from the glass he had before, looking perfectly relaxed on the opposite end of the couch from Sirius. “Still haven’t answered the question.”

“I’m not sure I have an answer.”

Remus clicked his tongue, “You always have an answer. An opinion. It’s one of my favorite things about you, even if it is frustrating.”

“Am I frustrating you?”

“Every second since I met you,” he said, and Sirius opened his mouth, Remus holding up a finger immediately before Sirius could say a single word, “And before you respond with something clever regarding your time prison, no the 12 years there were not any sort of reprieve. Every time I thought I had gotten rid of the traces of you….one more would appear. Dog hair on my clothes, a neatly folded sweater, one year I even found an old letter you wrote me from hols when we were fifteen.”

“Well at least I know I won’t have to become a ghost to haunt you when I die…” Sirius mused, giving Remus a wink before taking a sip of his own wine.

“...Are you going to be alright here?” Remus asked for the third time, and Sirius actually laughed, watching as Remus’s smile split his face wide open and suddenly Sirius was fifteen again, sitting across the Gryffindor common room with a quiet, golden boy who had the best barbs tucked away behind books and big sweaters.

Sirius laughed quietly, looking up at the mantle where the ticking clock was. Sirius missed the stained glass windows already and the handsome emerald green clock and the soft beige rug that was in the sitting room at his home by the seaside. And then he thought of Harry’s smile when they arrived that day, trunks in hand, Harry rushing to the backyard to go flying, leaving his trunk in the middle of the hall.

It annoyed Sirius that Harry did that at first, because trunks didn’t belong in the middle of walkways and Sirius had told him to bring it up to the bedroom he had chosen the last time they had come together. Harry had blindly chosen a bedroom then as well, waving Sirius away with his hand and just nodding along, more interested in the backyard and his firebolt.

It annoyed Sirius, and then…it didn’t.

It was so normal. As if Harry had been leaving his things around and Sirius had been getting mildly irritated for their whole lives.

He thought of Harry’s messy hair and flushed cheeks when he finally came inside after Sirius had called him for dinner twice. Remus had come over to help them settle in, so had Andromeda, Sirius offering dinner in exchange, the table that Sirius had eaten lonely meals at just a few months ago feeling much bigger.

“I think so,” is what Sirius settled on.

“Were you thinking that entire time?”

“Oi!”

“It was a long pause, thought you had fallen asleep.”

“I believe that’s your modus operandi, Moony,” Sirius said so easily, the nickname fizzling into the air like smoke after a firework. “Remus,” he corrected when he realized his fumble. Remus.

“I can be Moony…I…missed being Moony.” Remus cleared his throat, “I missed you.”

“Remus…”

“I can’t tell you that? I can’t tell you how I missed you? And even though the dog hair on my clothes and the sweaters and the stupid notes you used to write me were frustrating to find…they also made me miss you? Can I not tell you I thought about you every day for almost 13 years?”

“You can tell me whatever you’d like,” Sirius said, “And I’ll tell you I did the same except it’s not quite so endearing or sentimental. Because what else was I supposed to think about? You were my…you were going to be my fiancee and you didn’t even try….”

“I’m sorry.”

“I…I know.”

“Then--”

“I’m not at forgiveness yet, Remus.” Moony. Whoever you are. “I’d really like to be, but I’m not.”

“I should go.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I didn’t say I couldn’t get there.”

“You think you will? You think one day you’ll be able to look at me and want me again?”

“I want you right now. It’s not a question of want.”

Remus put down his wine glass on the end table, shifting on the couch so he was closer to Sirius, no longer on opposite ends of the couch--of the world. On the same page, in the same proximity for the first time since that night in the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts. The lights were dim, the clock ticked on the mantle as Remus’s knee touched Sirius’s. Amber eyes scanned his face looking for any type of sign and Sirius closed his eyes.

Moony.

“Can I hold you?” Sirius opened his eyes. “...Can I hold you?”

He breathed in deeply, already watching Remus’s hands between them, itching to touch Sirius. Sirius’s hands were longing to do the same.

Remus was all scratchy cardigans and half-shaven face. Bumps and bruises, and Sirius remembered running his hands over every part of Remus entranced by the indentations of scar tissue and raised freckles. Nothing about Remus was smooth. Clever, but lacking social charm. Knew how to clear a room. Knew precisely the wrong thing to say at the wrong time. But their relationship had been.

Against all odds, Sirius and Remus, Moony and Padfoot, my love and my darling, had been the smoothest course Sirius had ever sailed.

“Can I hold you?” Remus asked one more time, even softer, his face moving closer.

“....the only thing I can think of to say is your name. Every version of it.”

“Yes…no…” Remus offered, “maybe…in a few hours…just for a second…”

“That’s a lot of options.”

“Yes or no, then.”

Yes.

Hold me. Please. Remind me of what it was like to give my burdens to someone else to carry just for a little while.

“Yes.”

Remus moved slowly, daring to touch Sirius’s hands first, then his wrists, thumb caressing his pulse point while long fingers skimmed over tattoos and the dark hair on his arms again. Sirius sat still, inhaling and exhaling deeply, afraid Remus was going to make him come undone with the most innocent of touches. Remus’s hands moved up to his arms and Sirius continued to fight with lingering resolve.

It wasn’t passion, though.

No.

Not like when they were seventeen and they would take turns edging each other into madness with wanton looks in the hallway and hands in places they definitely shouldn’t have been in the middle of class, and kisses that always left someone begging for more. Or even when they were nineteen and finding intimacy in learning how to fix a leaking sink and a tiny shower that really couldn’t fit the two of them properly, but they insisted on being in there together anyway. Sirius would have to hold Remus’s arm when they got out of the shower, so much excess water on the linoleum flooring, taking care not to let his boyfriend-fiance-nearly husband slip.

The one thing Sirius always handled with care…was Remus, and now it seemed like it was the opposite. Not that Sirius asked for it, or explicitly told Remus that.

This Remus now though, this thirty-something Remus was feeling every valley and curve of Sirius’s arms, then shoulders, moving closer until their faces were mere centimeters apart.

Sirius inhaled.

Remus exhaled.

Sirius and Remus. One name it was always said so fast and together- SiriusandRemus, carved into trees, etched into pavement, signed on leases and wedding certificates that never came to be.

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