Fic: Ten Galleons
Mar. 7th, 2005 04:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lls_mutantI hate plot bunnies. (I also hate LJ right now, as it just ate my last post.) I hate the kind that have to be written Right. Now. Or they won't let you get anything done.
One of those bit me today.
So I wrote this, just to shut it up. It comes from a comment I found about how there's fic with many HP characters doing the prostitute thing, but never for Sirius. Which is kind of silly, because IC Remus would probably die before doing it, it wouldn't occur to Harry, no one would pay Severus for it (unless he washed his hair) but Sirius? Hell yeah, Sirius would do it.
Although I like the AIL scenario much, much better.
I'm going to sleep on this one before I cross-post it anywhere, because the tense does something wierd (like, changes?) half-way through and a part of me thinks it works and a part of me laughs my ass off at that idea. But we'll see.
So without further ado...
Title: Ten Galleons
Pairing: Sirius/various, including Remus
Rating: R
Disclaimer: not mine
The first time it happened was the summer between his fifth and sixth year.
The Blacks were hosting some sort of occasion; even then Sirius couldn’t have told you for what reason. Some formal party where guests milled about in dress robes, drinks and dainty finger foods appeared over the heads of bent house elves, loud and insincere compliments were exchanged and insults were traded in razor-edged voices sheathed in satin. The best of the wizard world, the purest of bloods- or the richest, as tainted blood could be forgiven at least in association- were present, making for a very dull afternoon.
A loudly whispered angry argument with his mother over his manners had sent Sirius to the library in a huff. He’d been curled up on an armchair, nose deep in a book when the door had opened and an older man had walked in.
“Well, well, Sirius. I was wondering where you were.”
“You must be the only one. I didn’t think it was much of a secret that I stormed out, Mr. Jensen.”
“No, I guess not.” Jensen wandered closer, perusing the books on the shelves. “You’ve got yourself a nice little hideaway here, don’t you?”
Sirius shrugged insolently, but he lowered his book and watched the man.
There was a current in the air he couldn’t identify, but it was strong and sent tendrils of fear and something else down his nerves and up his spine. He felt it again in a pronounced jolt when he heard the lock of the library slide shut, bidden to do so by a just barely perceptible flick of Jensen’s wand. Jensen turned to him, studying him with mud brown eyes. Sirius raised an eyebrow.
“You’re a pretty boy, you know,” Jensen said finally.
You’re not, Sirius thought. Heavy jowls, grey hair, a paunch and an oversized nose were far from attractive.
“I’ll give you five galleons if you blow me.”
There were options. There were many options. He could have gotten up, stormed out of the room and slammed the door. He could have shouted for help. He could have used magic to escape; he was underage but this would qualify as an extreme circumstance and the Ministry would forgive it. There were probably more.
“I’ll do it for ten.”
Jensen’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly. “For ten I’ll be fucking you.”
Sirius met his eyes defiantly. “All right then.”
It didn’t take long, a hurried copulation of wheezing and overeager hands, sweaty palms and bad breath. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him onto a lap and holding him steady as the man beneath him rutted into him, piercing with pain and grunting like a stuck pig. Then it was over and Jensen was buckling his belt and fishing out fifteen galleons, because he’d never had it so fucking good and he’d give Sirius more if Sirius would come by his house some night.
Sirius just laughed at him, because he hadn’t done it for money and he hadn’t done it for sex and he hadn’t done it for any reason other than he knew his mother hated Jensen with a passion but had to be polite because he kept his father funded. It wasn’t an act of desperation, but a giant “fuck you” to everyone who expected him to be the perfect scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Jensen retreated, confused and sputtering, and Sirius looked at the gold in his palm.
And that was how Sirius Black lost his virginity; when some disgusting man he couldn’t stand paid him fifteen galleons for it.
***
The Knight Bus picked him up outside Hogwarts on a rainy November night, a week after the full moon had almost killed his best friend, his worst enemy and a perversely innocent werewolf.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. The words ran through his head and his lips like a mantra, and enough was enough.
Sirius Black was sick of being sorry.
So he took the bus to London and he waited on a street corner, and when some nameless bloke stopped beside him and asked if he had a light, Sirius told him he did but it was twenty pounds for the use of it.
Sex in an alley, hot and hard and with the scraping of cheek against rough brick and the taste of blood in his mouth. Hard cutting words that he needed to hear, and then his soul was cleansed as he was left used and spent amid the garbage of the alley.
He dropped the note into the sewer and hailed the bus home.
***
The Potters’ house was warmth and safety, family and love. No darkness lingered in corners, no talks of blood and pride and nobility assaulted his ears. He had a room to himself, food on the table, and the concern of two parents and now a brother in fact as much as perception.
And yet he was at odds, because for once in his life there was nothing to hate, no line to walk.
“Where do you go at night?” James asked him once, as they lay on the grass in the back yard.
“I have a job,” Sirius said.
James just laughed, and Sirius laughed with him because the idea of Sirius Black working was admittedly ludicrous.
But that night he pulled on Muggle jeans and muggle t-shirt, waved good-bye to the Potters and cheerfully announced he’d be back late, because his boss was likely to keep him. He Apparated to London and leaned against a wall, waiting on a street corner.
He’d been there an hour when Brighton happened by, pretending to just be in the area even though it was obvious he was lying. Like usual it was quick and painful- Brighton never used enough lube- and like usual he called Sirius John. Obvious. Obvious and laughably pathetic, and when he was gone Sirius chuckled over it to himself, because respect was something none of his customers deserved, this one least of all. Too bloody scared to fuck the real thing, so he paid for a fantasy and settled for trash.
Because that’s what he was: trash. He was under no illusions about what he was doing, and he prettied it up with no words. He fucked people for money. He was a whore, a prostitute, a slut… whatever other slang you could come up with. There was no sexual pleasure in it; if he had orgasms he didn’t remember them, and his johns were never tender or gentle. They wanted to get off, and he gave it to them. He, the little pureblooded, mannered, cultured, educated, intelligent Black let them screw him for money and didn’t think twice.
There was a certain satisfaction in that, and that was what Sirius did it for.
***
After a while that satisfaction even began to fade, and there was nothing but cold and emptiness. He didn’t need the money because he had a job and he didn’t need the defiance because he was fighting enough for three men. At one point he stopped for a whole year.
Then the Prewett brothers were killed, and it began to hurt.
Then he found Benjy Fenwick, torn to bits.
Then Caradoc Dearborn was gone.
Then Marlene McKinnon.
And he began to do it again, because cold and emptiness were better than the burning pain that filled him when he was thinking.
***
Ten galleons. He had never raised his price. Ten for a fuck, five for a blow. For Muggles, it was twenty pounds and ten, but it was the same principle. He could command more but he didn’t, because money was never the point.
He woke up one morning in a cheap hotel room, and he knew- even though there was no proof- he’d fucked a Death Eater. It gave sleeping with the enemy a whole new meaning. But he would bet money- every last knut he had- that that was exactly what Rosier was.
Well, at least that was ten fewer galleons in a Death Eater pocket.
***
Things were bad. James and Lily were marked for death, and Sirius was sure he probably was too, although he wasn't as important as Prongs was. Remus was silent those days and Peter was drawn and pale, and everything was about to go to hell. Every day could have been their last, which was stupid because that was always true, and now they couldn't even enjoy it.
He knew he shouldn’t go out when he didn’t need to. He knew he should hide. But it had never been in Sirius Black to hide, and maybe he did it just to piss off Dumbledore, who insisted that Sirius, Remus, or Peter must be a fucking traitor. Well, not in those words. But that was what he meant.
So fuck them, and fuck Dumbledore. Sirius did what he wanted.
***
He was standing on the street corner in the cold October wind when ten galleons were pressed into his hand. The money was real and the hand was warm, so he turned and was brought up short when he met familiar brown eyes.
Remus simply raised his eyebrows.
“No,” Sirius said, for the first time ever, pushing the money back into Remus’s hand.
“Yes,” Remus replied calmly, extending it. The galleons glinted brightly.
“Why?” Sirius asked, breaking another rule. He’d never asked. He’d never wanted to know.
“Because.” Remus kept the rule intact, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was doing. And then there was nothing Sirius could do but pocket the money and lead Remus to the seedy inn that rented rooms by the hour.
He’d wanted this, and he knew it. That was the real reason he took Remus’s money. If he had known that Remus swung this way he would have seduced him sooner, but Sirius realized he didn’t know much about Remus anymore, not because Remus never told him but because he never listened.
He undid the buttons on his jeans, the bed between him and Remus, who was undressing with shaking hands. He couldn’t look him in the eye and he was reluctant to undress, although usually he tossed his clothes aside with the arrogance of having a body worth showing. Then Remus slid between the sheets, and Sirius was in bed beside him, warm skin against warm skin.
Remus wanted Sirius to fuck him. It wasn't a request Sirius was used to, but he did it anyway. He was gentle and a little bit slow, but he heard Remus hiss with pain and suddenly he knew that this was Remus’s first time- Remus had never had sex before this. But Remus didn’t tell him that; he only ducked his head and moved awkwardly with the tempo of Sirius’s thrusts.
They laid beside each other after, both staring at the ceiling and silent. “How did you know?” Sirius finally asked.
“Rosier was talking about it,” Remus said sleepily.
Rosier. A Death Eater. Sirius didn’t want to think about that. “What did he say?”
Remus shrugged. There was something about that shrug that is guilty and defensive, like Remus was hiding something, and Sirius thought maybe it had nothing to do with the fact Remus just admitted he betrayed them, but rather that Remus realized that Sirius is a joke in Death Eater circles.
There were so many things he could have done. Many options. He could have hexed Remus then and there. Bound him, turned him in, kept the others safe. He could have challenged him to a duel and gone down in a burst of green light when Remus killed him. He could have ordered Remus out, and never spoken to him again. But Sirius pulled him close, kissing him softly and coaxing him back, and for the first time he slept with someone without getting paid. And yet he knew that it wasn't an act of love but one of farewell, because one of them was going to kill the other and nothing would ever be right again.
In the morning, Remus was gone, and Sirius knew what he had to do. He pulled on his clothes and left to talk to James.
One of those bit me today.
So I wrote this, just to shut it up. It comes from a comment I found about how there's fic with many HP characters doing the prostitute thing, but never for Sirius. Which is kind of silly, because IC Remus would probably die before doing it, it wouldn't occur to Harry, no one would pay Severus for it (unless he washed his hair) but Sirius? Hell yeah, Sirius would do it.
Although I like the AIL scenario much, much better.
I'm going to sleep on this one before I cross-post it anywhere, because the tense does something wierd (like, changes?) half-way through and a part of me thinks it works and a part of me laughs my ass off at that idea. But we'll see.
So without further ado...
Title: Ten Galleons
Pairing: Sirius/various, including Remus
Rating: R
Disclaimer: not mine
The first time it happened was the summer between his fifth and sixth year.
The Blacks were hosting some sort of occasion; even then Sirius couldn’t have told you for what reason. Some formal party where guests milled about in dress robes, drinks and dainty finger foods appeared over the heads of bent house elves, loud and insincere compliments were exchanged and insults were traded in razor-edged voices sheathed in satin. The best of the wizard world, the purest of bloods- or the richest, as tainted blood could be forgiven at least in association- were present, making for a very dull afternoon.
A loudly whispered angry argument with his mother over his manners had sent Sirius to the library in a huff. He’d been curled up on an armchair, nose deep in a book when the door had opened and an older man had walked in.
“Well, well, Sirius. I was wondering where you were.”
“You must be the only one. I didn’t think it was much of a secret that I stormed out, Mr. Jensen.”
“No, I guess not.” Jensen wandered closer, perusing the books on the shelves. “You’ve got yourself a nice little hideaway here, don’t you?”
Sirius shrugged insolently, but he lowered his book and watched the man.
There was a current in the air he couldn’t identify, but it was strong and sent tendrils of fear and something else down his nerves and up his spine. He felt it again in a pronounced jolt when he heard the lock of the library slide shut, bidden to do so by a just barely perceptible flick of Jensen’s wand. Jensen turned to him, studying him with mud brown eyes. Sirius raised an eyebrow.
“You’re a pretty boy, you know,” Jensen said finally.
You’re not, Sirius thought. Heavy jowls, grey hair, a paunch and an oversized nose were far from attractive.
“I’ll give you five galleons if you blow me.”
There were options. There were many options. He could have gotten up, stormed out of the room and slammed the door. He could have shouted for help. He could have used magic to escape; he was underage but this would qualify as an extreme circumstance and the Ministry would forgive it. There were probably more.
“I’ll do it for ten.”
Jensen’s eyes widened in shock, but he recovered quickly. “For ten I’ll be fucking you.”
Sirius met his eyes defiantly. “All right then.”
It didn’t take long, a hurried copulation of wheezing and overeager hands, sweaty palms and bad breath. Arms wrapped around him, pulling him onto a lap and holding him steady as the man beneath him rutted into him, piercing with pain and grunting like a stuck pig. Then it was over and Jensen was buckling his belt and fishing out fifteen galleons, because he’d never had it so fucking good and he’d give Sirius more if Sirius would come by his house some night.
Sirius just laughed at him, because he hadn’t done it for money and he hadn’t done it for sex and he hadn’t done it for any reason other than he knew his mother hated Jensen with a passion but had to be polite because he kept his father funded. It wasn’t an act of desperation, but a giant “fuck you” to everyone who expected him to be the perfect scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Jensen retreated, confused and sputtering, and Sirius looked at the gold in his palm.
And that was how Sirius Black lost his virginity; when some disgusting man he couldn’t stand paid him fifteen galleons for it.
***
The Knight Bus picked him up outside Hogwarts on a rainy November night, a week after the full moon had almost killed his best friend, his worst enemy and a perversely innocent werewolf.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry. The words ran through his head and his lips like a mantra, and enough was enough.
Sirius Black was sick of being sorry.
So he took the bus to London and he waited on a street corner, and when some nameless bloke stopped beside him and asked if he had a light, Sirius told him he did but it was twenty pounds for the use of it.
Sex in an alley, hot and hard and with the scraping of cheek against rough brick and the taste of blood in his mouth. Hard cutting words that he needed to hear, and then his soul was cleansed as he was left used and spent amid the garbage of the alley.
He dropped the note into the sewer and hailed the bus home.
***
The Potters’ house was warmth and safety, family and love. No darkness lingered in corners, no talks of blood and pride and nobility assaulted his ears. He had a room to himself, food on the table, and the concern of two parents and now a brother in fact as much as perception.
And yet he was at odds, because for once in his life there was nothing to hate, no line to walk.
“Where do you go at night?” James asked him once, as they lay on the grass in the back yard.
“I have a job,” Sirius said.
James just laughed, and Sirius laughed with him because the idea of Sirius Black working was admittedly ludicrous.
But that night he pulled on Muggle jeans and muggle t-shirt, waved good-bye to the Potters and cheerfully announced he’d be back late, because his boss was likely to keep him. He Apparated to London and leaned against a wall, waiting on a street corner.
He’d been there an hour when Brighton happened by, pretending to just be in the area even though it was obvious he was lying. Like usual it was quick and painful- Brighton never used enough lube- and like usual he called Sirius John. Obvious. Obvious and laughably pathetic, and when he was gone Sirius chuckled over it to himself, because respect was something none of his customers deserved, this one least of all. Too bloody scared to fuck the real thing, so he paid for a fantasy and settled for trash.
Because that’s what he was: trash. He was under no illusions about what he was doing, and he prettied it up with no words. He fucked people for money. He was a whore, a prostitute, a slut… whatever other slang you could come up with. There was no sexual pleasure in it; if he had orgasms he didn’t remember them, and his johns were never tender or gentle. They wanted to get off, and he gave it to them. He, the little pureblooded, mannered, cultured, educated, intelligent Black let them screw him for money and didn’t think twice.
There was a certain satisfaction in that, and that was what Sirius did it for.
***
After a while that satisfaction even began to fade, and there was nothing but cold and emptiness. He didn’t need the money because he had a job and he didn’t need the defiance because he was fighting enough for three men. At one point he stopped for a whole year.
Then the Prewett brothers were killed, and it began to hurt.
Then he found Benjy Fenwick, torn to bits.
Then Caradoc Dearborn was gone.
Then Marlene McKinnon.
And he began to do it again, because cold and emptiness were better than the burning pain that filled him when he was thinking.
***
Ten galleons. He had never raised his price. Ten for a fuck, five for a blow. For Muggles, it was twenty pounds and ten, but it was the same principle. He could command more but he didn’t, because money was never the point.
He woke up one morning in a cheap hotel room, and he knew- even though there was no proof- he’d fucked a Death Eater. It gave sleeping with the enemy a whole new meaning. But he would bet money- every last knut he had- that that was exactly what Rosier was.
Well, at least that was ten fewer galleons in a Death Eater pocket.
***
Things were bad. James and Lily were marked for death, and Sirius was sure he probably was too, although he wasn't as important as Prongs was. Remus was silent those days and Peter was drawn and pale, and everything was about to go to hell. Every day could have been their last, which was stupid because that was always true, and now they couldn't even enjoy it.
He knew he shouldn’t go out when he didn’t need to. He knew he should hide. But it had never been in Sirius Black to hide, and maybe he did it just to piss off Dumbledore, who insisted that Sirius, Remus, or Peter must be a fucking traitor. Well, not in those words. But that was what he meant.
So fuck them, and fuck Dumbledore. Sirius did what he wanted.
***
He was standing on the street corner in the cold October wind when ten galleons were pressed into his hand. The money was real and the hand was warm, so he turned and was brought up short when he met familiar brown eyes.
Remus simply raised his eyebrows.
“No,” Sirius said, for the first time ever, pushing the money back into Remus’s hand.
“Yes,” Remus replied calmly, extending it. The galleons glinted brightly.
“Why?” Sirius asked, breaking another rule. He’d never asked. He’d never wanted to know.
“Because.” Remus kept the rule intact, even if he didn’t know that’s what he was doing. And then there was nothing Sirius could do but pocket the money and lead Remus to the seedy inn that rented rooms by the hour.
He’d wanted this, and he knew it. That was the real reason he took Remus’s money. If he had known that Remus swung this way he would have seduced him sooner, but Sirius realized he didn’t know much about Remus anymore, not because Remus never told him but because he never listened.
He undid the buttons on his jeans, the bed between him and Remus, who was undressing with shaking hands. He couldn’t look him in the eye and he was reluctant to undress, although usually he tossed his clothes aside with the arrogance of having a body worth showing. Then Remus slid between the sheets, and Sirius was in bed beside him, warm skin against warm skin.
Remus wanted Sirius to fuck him. It wasn't a request Sirius was used to, but he did it anyway. He was gentle and a little bit slow, but he heard Remus hiss with pain and suddenly he knew that this was Remus’s first time- Remus had never had sex before this. But Remus didn’t tell him that; he only ducked his head and moved awkwardly with the tempo of Sirius’s thrusts.
They laid beside each other after, both staring at the ceiling and silent. “How did you know?” Sirius finally asked.
“Rosier was talking about it,” Remus said sleepily.
Rosier. A Death Eater. Sirius didn’t want to think about that. “What did he say?”
Remus shrugged. There was something about that shrug that is guilty and defensive, like Remus was hiding something, and Sirius thought maybe it had nothing to do with the fact Remus just admitted he betrayed them, but rather that Remus realized that Sirius is a joke in Death Eater circles.
There were so many things he could have done. Many options. He could have hexed Remus then and there. Bound him, turned him in, kept the others safe. He could have challenged him to a duel and gone down in a burst of green light when Remus killed him. He could have ordered Remus out, and never spoken to him again. But Sirius pulled him close, kissing him softly and coaxing him back, and for the first time he slept with someone without getting paid. And yet he knew that it wasn't an act of love but one of farewell, because one of them was going to kill the other and nothing would ever be right again.
In the morning, Remus was gone, and Sirius knew what he had to do. He pulled on his clothes and left to talk to James.
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 09:49 pm (UTC)The change of tense is very noticeable: the fic was working well in the past tense, and I'd stick with that throughout, if I were you. The past tense gives a sense of finality, which is what you want, rather than of lingering and new beginnings.
Once you've sorted that out, it would be interesting to see how this goes down on remusxsirius... I certainly thought that the basic scenario was quite credible, and well worth exploring. It's good to see a new slant occasionally, when we're such a long way from any fresh canon to work with!
^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 10:06 pm (UTC)Aside from that, I'm still debating how much I like it. My normal style is that this would be the set up; the real story would be what happens to Sirius afterwards. But if I ever want to finish Accidentally In Love, I need to not go off on what happens if Sirius is a prostitute. (Also, this is SO out of canon that it would be better to just change the names and write an original, if that's what I really wanted to do!)
Thanks for the review!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 10:27 pm (UTC)I know this isn't your main concern with the fic as it stands, but I should add that, okay, it's out of canon, but it's perfectly plausible. After all, R/S is (strictly) out of canon. I can see one of Sirius's family's rich friends starting Sirius on this spiral. And of course it sets the scene for Sirius assuming Remus is the spy, so it makes a lot of sense to me. Worth seeing how rxs react, at the very least. It's always good to see an original idea, especially if it's well done, as it is here!
^_^
no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 10:34 pm (UTC)I definitely see what you're saying about out of canon, and yeah- I wasn't even trying to keep it in- just in character. AIL is my attempt at canon-complient (although I definitely went AU in the last chapter because there's no way JKR would ever do that to Lily), so it's kind of entertaining at times to go way off my norm.
Once I get home and give it one more once-over, we'll see what Rxs and starcrossedmoon have to say!
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 10:53 pm (UTC)If he had known that Remus swung this way he would have seduced him sooner, but Sirius realized he doesn’t know much about Remus anymore, not because Remus never told him but because he never listened.
And that line broke me.
*sniffles* Chapter 6 of AIL had better be a happy one filled with nice fluffy sex, after this. *pleads* I don't know if I can take much more of your angst, because you do it so well. You should definitely put this on
no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 02:59 am (UTC)Brilliant
Date: 2005-03-07 11:10 pm (UTC)My fave. line.... *sniffle*
That was very masterfully written, plotwise anyway. Very artistic, and I thorougly enjoyed it. My only complaint is the switch between tenses, but it didn't really affet the story that much ^.^
Its an interesting concept, also.
Re: Brilliant
Date: 2005-03-08 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-07 11:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 01:45 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 02:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 12:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 01:46 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 01:40 am (UTC)Very bitter and an interesting alternative viewpoint into Sirius' mind, how he doesn't really care, and why. I also like the implications behind how Remus knew, and wonder about the backstory behind that, since we know that Remus really wasn't a DE - but it works in great with the whole canon Secret Keeper thing.
I envy that you can just whip off something striking like this. :D
no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 01:47 pm (UTC)since we know that Remus really wasn't a DE...
An idea-slash-theory I'm very, very stuck on and attached to is that Snape wasn't Dumbledore's only spy. Sirius was right- Remus WAS a spy- he just got the side wrong. And Remus couldn't tell him, because he wasn't allowed to tell ANYONE. That was the theory I was working off here ;)
Thanks!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 02:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 04:20 am (UTC)"Remus shrugged. There was something about that shrug that is guilty and defensive, like Remus was hiding something, and Sirius thought maybe it had nothing to do with the fact Remus just admitted he betrayed them, but rather that Remus realized that Sirius is a joke in Death Eater circles."
nice backstory... 'd work well with Sirius' bookverse mistrust of Remus.
=)
no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 04:27 am (UTC)I didn't comment on this when I first read it, but I'll comment now :)
I really love the way you portrayed Sirius and made his prostitution a viable means of escape. As you'll see in my LJ, I felt like a little bit of that myself today... :\ weird that Remus knew about Rosier, but since its from Sirius' perspective, no explanation is needed. I formulated one in my mind :p
I am also a sucker for Griffinwhore!Sirius. Thanks for feeding my kink :D
no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 01:50 pm (UTC)Remus knowing about Rosier... we still have no clue what Remus did during the first war- or what he's doing now. I'm very attached to my "Remus was a spy for DD" theory. Goes well with the lega-whootchimawatchie-theory as well.
Glad you enjoyed!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-08 02:12 pm (UTC)hmm, i liked the idea of Remus as DD spy as well... and DD couldn't tell the other 3 b/c he didnt know which one was the spy for LV. clever
no subject
Date: 2005-04-11 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-04-30 09:01 pm (UTC)You know what? In a way this is the one of the most accurate and IC description of Sirius.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-07 03:04 pm (UTC)Thanks :)
no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 01:50 pm (UTC)However, I can't agree with the premise, or the comment that inspired your writing. I won't argue how IC or OOC it is for Black to sell himself, my point is that as far as canon goes, he never had a reason nor the opportunity to do so. Maybe except if he had chosen a life on the street instead of life at the Potters. Lupin, on the other hand, was well motivated. He had (most probably) spent long years on the verge of poverty, all on his own, without a place to go and with low chances to get a respectable job to ensure himself a steady income. And in my opinion, he would rather secretly prostitute himself than live out of charity (not to mention die of huger :)). As for the other characters (Harry, Draco, Severus...), they are mostly led to this line of work by the unfortunate social status they find themselves in after their side has lost the war. In conclusion, there is so little prostitution fics about Black, because he, unlike other characters, would have to choose to sell himself without any reason or logic, just for the hell of it or from some sense of guilt – and this, IMHO, is about as out of character as it gets even for Sirius. ;)
no subject
Date: 2010-02-27 02:16 pm (UTC)I haven't written HP fic in a long time, so forgive me if my logic is rusty :)
I agree that Sirius never had to sell himself. The money was never the point- that was why he never raised his prices. There was a lot of defiance in this fic- not so much guilt but "this goes against everything I should be doing, so I'm going to do it." Sirius saw prostitution as depraved and dangerous and not something his parents would ever approve of, so he did it.
The points he didn't do it, he was happy. He was fighting, he had friends, he had stable ground, and he didn't feel that need for recklessness and basically saying "fuck you" to the world.
There was a point he did it out of guilt, and that was after the Shrieking Shack thing.
During the war, he did it out of that defiance again, although this time directed at Dumbledore, at the Death Eaters, and at the world. Sirius wanted to fight, and he was doing everything he could, but I have the impression that fighting Death Eaters was a very tricky and frustrating business, because you didn't know who was on whose side, who was doing things because they were Imerpiused, and who was in the wrong place at the wrong time. It must have been like fighting with your eyes closed. My interpretation of Sirius is that while he's capable of absorbing subtleties- very capable- he's still a direct person. And because he has to channel his battles in the war, he needed some outlet for his anger. Add in some survivor's guilt as he watched people getting picked off, anger and chafing at any sort of confinement as everyone was practically living in hiding, and feelings of uselessness (plus, I tend to have my characters express dissatisfaction with their lives and pain in a masochistic, sexual way), and that's what's driving him.
It's definitely not money driving him- the money doesn't matter at all. It's the breaking of taboos and the self-violence, and I'd argue that's VERY IC for Sirius Black :)
Anyway, that was my thought process. Thanks again for commenting!
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Date: 2010-02-28 12:43 am (UTC)Nah, your logic works well enough, as far as I can tell. ;)
I rather meant I liked how this constancy paralleled with the (nearly nonexistent) development of Black's character throughout the series. And the different prices for muggles and wizards perfectly illustrated his hypocrisy. Because judging by his canon actions, Sirius was prejudiced, no matter what he said or even thought about himself. But I digress.
Yes, that was a good point (about the happiness) and I liked this idea a lot.
I understand he didn't do it for money, of course. :) What I had troubles believing was that he would choose exactly this way of rebellion. Pride and self-esteem were crucial features of Sirius's personality, and they don't really match with street prostitution. On the other hand, even if there were lots of other dangerous things to do, that his parents would not approve of, I agree Black very well could have become a slut to anger his family and all the people he loathed. But I think he would have done it in a more open, pompous and scandalous way. Like: „Hey mother, I have starred in that filthy muggle porn - take that!“ Or he would have danced in some strip club in Knocturn Alley, where anyone of his snobby parent's friends could see him, or something like that.
Anyway, as I read it, in this fiction he wasn't so much rebelling, as he was punishing himself (thinking of himself as a trash, choosing humiliation as a way to release his pain etc.). But Sirius Black never punishes himself, no matter what, because he never admits his errors. Even after twelve years of hell in Azkaban he wasn't sorry about the Shrieking Shack incident, not even for Lupin's sake. (He was terribly sorry about what happened to the Potters, but that is another matter.)
As it happens, I prefer to ease my pain this way as well. And even if I would never go for prostitution myself, it doesn't mean someone else (Black) wouldn't do it. So, for me, this is the most valid point of all the points you have made. He is doing it for himself. He doesn't seek the punishment, he seeks the comfort it brings. Yes, this is exceptionally IC for Sirius, and I am ashamed I didn't see it.
Before I finish this comment, I should tell you about the things I _liked_ about this fiction, shouldn't I? I loved it how Sirius defied Dumbledore, his boundless faith in the Marauders (even Peter – a rare thing in a fanfic!), Lupin's first time and the DE backstory, the depiction of Potters household,... well, pretty much everything besides the main story line, which I had troubles believing. :)
*rereads* Oops, seems I let myself be carried away. But I love discussing fictions and I haven't done it for some time now (I am back to the fandom after a break), so nostalgia got the better of me. Oh, and I am sorry if I sounded a bit harsh. As a non-native speaker, I have troubles finding the right words sometimes.
T.H.
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Date: 2005-05-01 12:02 am (UTC)(here from a comment in
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Date: 2005-05-07 03:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-11-25 03:16 pm (UTC)Once again you've left me shaken to the core! I can see Sirius this screwed up. And the scene with Remus is almost bittersweet in that in a way, they both get something their looking for but no redemption.
You're fantastically talented!
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Date: 2010-05-13 11:14 pm (UTC)And look at you, you've gone and dragged me back to this fandom. How did you do that?
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Date: 2010-05-14 11:52 am (UTC)Thanks :)