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BE GAY, START FIGHTS
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IT FELT LIKE HEAVEN TO FLIRT WITH HELL
-YOU COULDN'T BE GAY in the 70s, it was an act of transgression, practically an immoral disease in the eyes of the public, but that didnt stop people. Sinning ran through humans veins, a thick substance of insurgence, because it was cruel to prevent someone from loving another purely on what hid beneath their pants, it was sick, uncharitable. So instead of forcing themselves into a dull life of misery and lies, they hid their affairs in the dead of the night, stolen kisses which could never be revealed, wandering hands which reached unethical places when no-one else was around.
The Wizarding world tackled homosexuality in a more contained manner, one which never invalidated their attractions, yet neither favoured them, it was a game of tug and war, an endless cycle that people who were different would never win. There was no legislations banning same-sex relationships in magical communities, however they still didnt hold the 'privilege' of marriage, an ironically bitter-sweet conclusion.
Society was built from oppression, it always had been, and from the pigment of your skin, to the person you preferred to sleep with, you would always be judged. Flashed infront of a silver screen and rated, one step out of line, one movement in the darkened path, the rejected one, and you would be painted with a crimson target upon your forehead. It wasn't petty school fights, broken noses and days with the nurse when it came to being gay, it was terrifying: being beaten to a pulp, gouged, degraded, treaded on. Murdered.
Hands were the enemy, powerful when they slammed against your face, the shadows were your friend, where you could cower away when trouble came seeking for you, and metal, oh metal was the killer, the instrument which slaughtered innocent souls for going against norms, taking their life away with one swipe, leaving behind a shallow body of everything fucked up in this world.
Wizard or not, you were treading the hard path of life, the one which could ultimately kill you for merely liking the same gender, and this petrified Remus Lupin. It had taken him years to even admit to himself that he was gay, and to hear his battle wasnt over, that he would have to fight until his last breath hit the air, left him with an overwhelming sense of addled emotions. His friends had been supportive, but they were the minority in a sea of cruel, slaughtering sharks, they were the rebels, the type of people who would stick their middle finger up at rules in general, what would it be like if he ever encountered people more conservative?
