Another fic. RL/SB shippers might want to look the other way...

[dolorous_ett]

This one was inspired by a trip to HMS Wolfstar on Fiction Alley. I dropped in to see why people are so fanatical about this ship, and left traumatised by the fanaticism and shoddy logic, and not much the wiser.

This story is the result.

Of course, since then I've visited a couple of other ships in that forum, and they terrify me too. It would seem that I'm just not one of nature's shippers. I've learned my lesson and I'm never going back to SCUSA again... but by the time I'd ascertained this, I already had half a story on my hard drive, and rather than let an idea go to waste, I decided to run with it.

Anyway, this little piece is the story of the awful things that can happen when well-meaning people read far too much into something that isn't there.

As ever, any comments or advice are much aprecitated. So long as you don't flame me for not shipping RL/SB, or ask me to write a sequel in which they get together. It's not going to happen.

Considering that this was their ever first party, thought Lily Potter, things were going pretty well. She smiled to herself, and looked over the guests assembled in Godric’s Hollow with satisfaction.

By the standards to which she had been raised, this was a most unconventional gathering. The food laid out on her new set of nested coffee tables (a wedding present from her parents in Bexhill-on-Sea) was not the usual sandwiches, fairy cakes and sausages on sticks, but mountains of richly glazed pumpkin pasties; teetering, multi-storied cakes dripping with lurid blue-and-orange striped icing or sprinkled with huge spun-sugar stars; a cornucopia of lychees, mangoes, figs and pomegranates from their own little greenhouse at the back of the house; Self-Warming Rolls and a cauldron of mouth-watering Fenny Snake Soup suspended over the open fire, from which the guests helped themselves. A lot of the men were wearing robes, and almost all the guests were carrying wands. Odd-looking cats twined themselves round the guests’ ankles or patted huge, gulping toads with carefully sheathed paws. The colours in the room were so bright, almost glittery; the atmosphere… charged somehow, in a way her life had never been in her parents’ house. Well, she was free of all that now.

Lily was now a member of the Wizarding world in truth - not just as a legal adult, or as a holder of a Hogwarts diploma, but married into one of the oldest Wizarding families in the country. She had come a long way from the skinny, redheaded eleven-year-old who had wept silent tears into her pillow at night because nobody understood why she missed her sister and her home, lost and alone in a strange castle in the cold, far north, where there was not even a telly for her to watch Doctor Who.

Today, for the first time, Lily had managed to persude a member of her own family to visit her new house. Her parents - nervous among Wizards at best - were away on holiday in the south of France, but her sister Petunia, after much flattery, pleading and even tears, had agreed to come along.

And there she was, standing by the mantelpiece, her powder-blue Laura Ashley floral dress with its white collar instantly visible among all the long, sweeping robes the other women wore. She was wearing discreet pearl earrings and a pearl necklace, with matching shoes and handbag, blonde hair pulled back from her long face into a tight knot at the back of her head - to Lily, utterly conventional, yet in this company strangely exotic. With the firelight bringing out warm tints in her skin and hair, and a rare, genuine smile giving breadth and life to her rather horsey face as she smiled up at the shabby young man beside her, Lily realised with a start that Petunia was surprisingly beautiful. Perhaps she, too, would find a match among the people who had taken her in… dreams of shared, parallel happiness she had not dared to contemplate since the year she turned eleven began to take shape in her mind.

Then she saw Sirius Black sashay his way across the room, tap Petunia’s new friend lightly on the arm and whisper something urgently in his ear. Lily’s heart sank as he turned round to listen, and she realised that the man who had brought beauty to her Petunia’s pinched face was Remus Lupin, the one man in the room she knew for a fact could never be interested in her sister or any other woman.

***

A warm room, an open fire blasting heat onto her skin through her thin dress, an atmosphere that was all chatter and strange yet homelike smells… The man beside her was telling her some story about his schooldays with Lily, all the while staring at her as if he had never seen anything so alluring. Petunia felt like she was melting, and yet at the same time somehow expanding as she gazed into those hot, mesmerising yellow eyes.

"It must be the punch," she said. "There must be something in the punch."

"What must be the punch?" he asked, moving closer to make himself heard above the background conversation.

She looked up into his face, warmth creeping up her chest and neck to her face.

"You know," she said softly, and she knew that he did.

***

Remus knew he was babbling but he could not stop himself. Raised all his life among wizards (for obvious security reasons that never needed to be explicitly stated), he had never come close to a proper Muggle woman - not a tamed, converted, over-the-wall type like Lily, but a true, unregenerate Muggle. All his life, he realised, he had accepted without question that gaudy butterflies like the ones that filled this room - like Lily herself - were the epitome of beauty. This woman was no butterfly but a moth - soft, quiet, dry, feathery: a creature of the dusk, whose eyes were drawing him deeper and deeper in, with a pull as powerful as ever the moon had been… (Aged nineteen, Remus still fancied himself a poet).

He felt a tap on his shoulder, and half-turned to face Sirius.

"Moony, can you come outside for a minute?" he said. "Fletcher’s back from Trondheim, and he thinks there’s trouble brewing…"

Controlling his irritation - could they not have left it a few hours? Trouble was always brewing in Trondheim, and it never came to anything - he apologised briefly to Petunia and elbowed his way to the exit, promising to bring her another beaker of mulled mead on his way back.

***

Petunia was deep in her own thoughts when Lily spoke.

"Petunia, love," she said. "Can you come through to the kitchen for a moment? There’s something I need to explain to you about Remus."

***

It was cold on the back porch, and the light of the waxing moon was giving Remus a headache. Sirius was more than half drunk, and making a ridiculous fuss about some minor Norwegian local deity which was insisting on the full resumption of its ancient worship in exchange for aid in the fight against Voledmort. Since no human blood and little animal suffering was involved, Remus really could not see the problem. And how the wretched man talked! Anyone would think that a gaolbreak in the middle of a blizzard was something new for Mundungus Fletcher, who would do anything for money, and must have broken out of every lockup in Great Britain since he was of age.

Both men heard it - a violent slam, followed by small feet, pattering frantically, running down the garden path. Lily’s voice called after her from the front porch:

"Petunia! Don’t be so silly! I had to tell you - you’ll thank me for it one day, you’ll see!"

***

But Petunia Evans was already out of sight, and she did not stop running or look back until she reached the bus stop at the foot of the lane. There she stood shivering in the dark for half an hour, before a large, fleshy young man in a BMW drew up beside her. An utterly uncharacteristic burst of chivalry (which he later put down to a whelk he had eaten at the house of his sister Marge) prompted the owner of the car to check whether this obviously respectable young woman was in any kind of difficulty in this out-of-the-way place. Her appalling stories of a narrow escape from sexual perversions and dangerous hippies living in squalor aroused his compassion. He wrapped her in his own pure wool overcoat, turned the car heater up to full blast and drove fifty miles out his way to deliver her safely to her own front door. By now, Petunia was comparing this stolid, safe, workaday kindness most favourably with the cruel, unreliable glamour she had encountered at Godric’s Hollow. And the rest was history.

***

Remus could not believe his eyes. The first girl in a year who’d really shown an interest in him, and Lily had scared her off. What was she playing at?

Leaving Sirius jabbering on about bronze knives, sacrifices and standing stones, he approached Lily, and took a deep breath.

She spoke before he had a chance to open his mouth.

"Don’t worry, Remus," she said with an arch smile. "She won’t be bothering you any more."

"Bothering me?" he said. "I’ve never been less bothered in my life. Your sister’s a lovely girl…"

"Yes, I know," said Lily, "and you didn’t know how to let her down gently. Well, don’t worry, that’s all sorted. I didn’t want her making a fool of herself when it was plainly impossible - she’s very fragile, you know, underneath all those posh society manners. And it had to be me to tell her - I am her sister, after all."

Remus felt cold.

"I see," he said, in an unnaturally polite voice. "Of course you don’t want a werewolf in the family. I quite understand. And please do accept my apologies for my presumption…"

Lily giggled.

"Oh, Remus, you’re so sweet," she said. "But did you really think I didn’t know? I wouldn’t have told Petunia about the werewolf thing - none of us care about that. No, I told her about you and Sirius."

Remus looked at her blankly, wondering which of their childhood derelictions was bad enough to cause a pretty girl to run out of the house in tears. Since the girl in question was not a Hogwarts prefect, he could not offhand think of a single one.

"I know you don’t like to talk about it," Lily continued, "but honestly, a woman knows these things! And it’s all right - this isn’t Wendelin the Weird’s day! I think it’s really lovely - him leaving his family for you and all… and you’re so obviously right for each other…"

Remus gaped at her.

"Are you trying to tell me," he said slowly, "that you think me and Sirius are lovers?"

Lily looked pityingly at him.

"Don’t be coy, Remus," she said with mock severity. "I’ve known you since you were both eleven, remember? You’ve been living together for the past few years…"

"What… no way… of course we aren’t…" Remus was so shocked that it took him a few seconds to get his voice under control. "There’s nothing going on, Lily. There are two bedrooms in that flat. And a sofa-bed for when Peter comes for the weekend. If living together was all it took, shouldn’t you be worried in case I used to sleep with your husband too? After all, we shared a dormitory for seven years. Don’t be ridiculous."

"Oh really," said Lily with asperity, rather put out that Remus had not been more impressed with her sensitivity and intuition. "Of course that’s not all. There’s the way you finish each other’s sentences -"

"- no we don’t"

"You do. I’ve heard you. Then there’s the way you touch each other all the time…"

"…Sirius touches everyone all the time. He’s a nice, friendly person. What am I meant to do, punch him in the teeth every time he slaps me on the back?"

"You argue like an old married couple - you finish each other’s sentences - you can’t stop staring at each other - "

" - you’re deranged."

"… you’re like a pair of gay uncles - "

"Lily, you haven’t got any gay uncles! You’re from Eastbourne!"

"Bexhill-on-Sea! And even your animagus forms are compatible - you can howl at the moon together, which is so gorgeous… and a wolf and a dog, you know, even when you’re transformed, you can…" she tittered.

Remus looked revolted. "You can’t mean that," he said. "Have you any idea what dogs do to wolves? If a pack of dogs gets hold of one, they tear it to pieces. And that’s a revolting notion in any case. Would you do it with a chimpanzee? A female chimpanzee? Because that’s what it amounts to."

Lily pulled a face. "Yuck. Anyway, I don’t see what you’ve got to be ashamed of - it’s sweet…"

James put his head out of the door.

"Remus, are you upsetting my wife?" he said cheerfully.

Remus scowled.

"No," he said. "Why on earth should I, when your wife has made quite sure that the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen will never be interested in me? And now, if you don’t mind, I’m going home."

He stalked off, out of the garden and through the fields, towards the nearest Apparition point.

***

In his hurry to leave, Remus left his cloak at the Potters’ house. By the time he got back to Sirius’s flat in Putney he was chilled to the bone. The chill made his transformation the following day even more debilitating and unpleasant than usual, and by the time the moon had set he was running a high fever. Sirius had gone back to Trondheim to try and sort out the theological problem, and by the time a very sheepish Lily called round to apologise, Remus was seriously ill. She visited him daily with nourishing broths and jellies, and soon he was on the mend, if still rather reserved and formal towards her.

As soon as he was well enough to get about again, Remus got Petunia’s parents’ address from Lily, borrowed some presentable Muggle clothes from James and paid a call. Her father - an elderly man in a clerical collar and a cardigan - answered the door, and informed Remus that Petunia was visiting an Ideal Kitchens Exhibition in Brighton with her new young man - a very nice young man who worked in drills. Once he realised who Remus was, his manner became very frosty, and he refused to take any kind of message.

Remus thought about going back and trying again. But somehow he already knew it was too late.

***

From then on, Remus became much more wary around Sirius. Lily had been completely wrong about their relationship - of course she had - but could he speak for Sirius? He started to avoid physical contact with his friend, and although Sirius had obviously noticed and was hurt by it, he knew he was never going to be able to explain why. He really would rather die.

***

After he came back from Trondheim, Sirius noticed the change in Remus. It was nothing obvious, but he seldom looked him in the eye, avoided his touch and often fell into a reverie, staring at nothing, a worried, guilty look on his pale face.

Something was up. Sirius had been brought up around Dark creatures, and he thought he saw the signs. This one would bear watching.

***

When Peter next came to London - something he had been doing less and less of late, as he had secret matters of his own to occupy him - he could tell at once that something was amiss in the little flat in Putney. There was tension in the atmosphere, a palpable sense of hurt and rejection.

His new Master had given him eyes to sense out weakness, and taught him the cunning to bend it to his own advantage. Slowly, patiently, overlooked even by his childhood friends, he began to work.

Comments

[lareinenoire.livejournal.com]

As a fellow not-quite-shipper, I've elected to avoid SCUSA as well. While I'm all for openness, and I've even vaguely flirted with writing slash, I have absolutely no allegiance to any ship.

I quite liked this little fic, because...er...I've done that. Sort of. In that I have the working gaydar of a cinder block. ;) Poor poor Petunia! That first description of her was gorgeous, by the way. As a fan of sympathetic!Petunia (at least in MWPP-era stories), I salute you.

And creepy creepy Peter. Very interesting explanation for the suspicion between Sirius and Remus.

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the review!

I quite liked this little fic, because...er...I've done that. Sort of. In that I have the working gaydar of a cinder block. ;)

I think a lot of us have. People who aren't gay men themselves often have some very strange notions of what a gay man is like, especially young, over-romantic women like my version of Lily (and the Silly wing of Wolfstar).

Poor poor Petunia!

Yes, Petunia is undoubtedly the one who suffers most from this. And I thought an unmentioned sexual humiliation might go some way to explain her exaggerated dislike of all things magical.

Glad you found the explanation for the rift plausible - again, it struck me as odd that in canon both Sirius and Remus assumed that the other was a traitor so easily. There had to be something else going on - this is just one dynamic that suggested itself.

[gunderpants.livejournal.com]

SCUSA scares the shit out of me too, seeing as it's mainly populated by a pack of degenerate idiots who were clearly conceived beside a nuclear reactor.

Nonetheless, this story is great, and it fills in a lot: I particularly like how someone like Remus could like Petunia, pre-Vernon, and you evoked the same emotions from me that JKR did when she wrote him.

I also particularly liked how you were able to incorporate Peter's betrayal.

Top job, gov.

[a-t-rain.livejournal.com]

Nicely done, and quite funny up until the last dozen paragraphs or so. (Though I still maintain that Remus had a lucky escape from Petunia, even with your rather-nicer characterization of her.)

[catkind.livejournal.com]

Ooh, this is a little cruel. Sirius sashaying? Lily tittering? (And how does Lily fail to recognise Remus from behind?)

One thing that didn't quite flow to me was Remus's sudden illness and recovery. Is this another fanfic cliche being taken off?

The picture of Petunia in her Laura Ashley is just right.

I love the way ye dramatic magical plot is dull jabbering in the background to Remus. And thinking he's a poet! And that excruciating feeling of someone said we're a couple, what if he fancies me, what if he thinks I fancy him? And the "theological problem", and Vernon's whelk...

Why do I get the feeling the Marauders have had a hand in the catering?

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

SCUSA scares the shit out of me too, seeing as it's mainly populated by a pack of degenerate idiots who were clearly conceived beside a nuclear reactor.

Do you know, I'd never considered a physiological reason? I'd always thought it was some kind of mass psychosis. (though that on its own is perhaps not enough to explain away the invention of the term "puppyshipper", which makes me feel quite ill). Not that it makes any difference what caused it - SCUSA is a deeply scary place, and people like me would do best to stay away.

you evoked the same emotions from me that JKR did when she wrote him.

Wow - that's a compliment I shall take away,wrap up carefully and treasure, and bring out at intervals to gaze upon. (is overcome)

Thank you for the review!

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

(Though I still maintain that Remus had a lucky escape from Petunia, even with your rather-nicer characterization of her.)

Well, possibly. After all, they never got a chance to actually talk, did they? Not in the sense of actually listening to each other and having a conversation, as opposed to goggling at each other in a moonstruck way and not taking a word in.

Thanks for taking the time to comment! If I were on a glamorous holiday in Spain, I don't think I'd be sparing the time to read other people's mediocre fics...

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

Thank you very much for your comments! You've helped spot several dodgy areas I'll have to modify before I post this at Fiction Alley.

Ooh, this is a little cruel. Sirius sashaying? Lily tittering?

Yes, perhaps. The sashaying was in the spirit of that tired old cliche PiraticalSexGod!Sirius. And as for Lily tittering... Well, the alternative would be to put what she thought they were doing in full when she said: "and a wolf and a dog, you know, even when you're transformed, you can..." she tittered - and I can't imagine what the mechanics of dog/werewolf male/male sex would be. Suffice it to say, it is not TEH HAWT, and it's not an alley I want to explore. I suppose the titter was just a marker on my part that this is one of the silliest arguments (in my personal opinion) that Wolfstar can provide. Also, my version of Lily (not a particularly kind one, as she's a mouthpiece for opinions I don't share) is a loving person, but not a great thinker and rather immature - such people do titter, even after marriage.

(And how does Lily fail to recognise Remus from behind?)

I'm not sure she does. I think she's just taken in the fact that Petunia's got an admirer, and them - whoops - it's the nice, sweet one who must be gay. But I'll see if I can't make it a bit clearer in the final draft.

One thing that didn't quite flow to me was Remus's sudden illness and recovery. Is this another fanfic cliche being taken off?

Aren't you kind to give me a let-out clause? But no - the sad truth is that it's an Ancient and Creaking Plot Device - I needed to give Petunia and Remus a cooling off period, so that even if he did come round to her house, the ultra-respectable Vernon would already have got his feet firmly under the table. Originally I was going to send Remus to Trondheim to sort out the "theological problem", but I just had a feeling that if he had it that bad for Petunia he would refuse to go. I'm going to try and modify this in the final version.

Thanks for your other kind comments - I'm glad you spotted the whelk...

Why do I get the feeling the Marauders have had a hand in the catering?

That hadn't occurred to me - but I bet they did. Far too much sweet, sticky stuff, the sort of things teenagers love...

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

See post below for the full reply. Looks like I pressed the wrong button...

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

Am I still allowed to comment, since I actually like S/R?

But of course! In fact, I greatly appreciate the fact that you've been so nice about it all - I'll admit that I noticed your icon and hoped I wouldn't either cause offence or get savaged myself...

Here, have a scratch behind the ears and a virtual steak. [steak>]********[/steak]

I also question Sirius 'sashaying'

If two people pick up on an issue, then it needs sorting.

I think I'd better convert it to a swagger. Or a vigorous march across the room, shoving people aside - which might be likely if there's a theological crisis brewing in Trondheim...

And for the record, I agree about the 'scary and vehement' nature of shipping in general - it gets ridiculous sometimes, really. I like to read stories about Remus and Sirius, either together or not, but I wouldn't attack someone else for not seeing it the way I do.

Then we have more in common than your icon and my story would suggest! I agree with you about the Paramilitary Wings of some of these ships - it's frightening to see that degree of fanaticism over people who don't really exist at all.

And, to make my position clear, I've read and enjoyed several first-rate RL/SB fics (people like Samvimes and PaulaMcG spring to mind). If a fic's well written, it could be Flitwick/Fudge, and I'll still be cheering them on - so long as it's well written enough for me to believe.

Thank you for reviewing!

[anna-kat.livejournal.com]

Well done. I'm no Petunia fan but I like how you portray her and Lily here.

I've read your hilarious Artichoke story too and look forward to more of it. The dinner atmosphere brought back fond memories of Gosford Park and the nastiness clad in polite conversation.

Is it okay if I friend you?

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

Though I will admit I am now hoping that people don't read bestiality connotations into my icon... >_<

Don't worry too much, only people with a nasty mind like mine would read anything into it...

Swagger and march both work, though 'march' may fit better in the context.

Yes, "march" would do it. Or possibly "stride".

I think this is true of most ships - it's the quality of the writing that counts. It's funny that you've listed two of my favourite authors, despite us not really sharing a ship!

Yay for meeting of minds!

Oh, and glad you liked the steak.

[dolorous-ett.livejournal.com]

Thank you for your kind words on this and the Artichoke story!

I'm no Petunia fan but I like how you portray her and Lily here.

I'm not crazy about Petunia normally - but she can't have been born the way she is in canon, and since she features in really offensive abuse fics from time to time, I thought she deserved the benefit of the doubt for once. And she rose to the occasion valiantly - I ended up quite liking her.

The dinner atmosphere brought back fond memories of Gosford Park and the nastiness clad in polite conversation.

Strangely, I'd not thought of Gosford Park - there's enough source material in there for an Artichoke Novel, if my nerves could stand it! A very flattering comparison though - that's a good film.

Please, friend away! And I'll friend you back, if I may.

[a-t-rain.livejournal.com]

Well, you´ve got to realize that "glamorous" is not exactly the word for my style of travel, and between dragging a heavy backpack through the rain / waiting for buses / bargaining with the old ladies at the bus station for rooms / trying to do laundry / trying to figure out where the hell I left my hairbrush, it never hurts to have some down time :)