TikTok sound 'Imma fight these gender norms' 

@cibeewastaken asked if men can wear saris. It turned out they can, so... Here we go. Featuring Draco sporting a gorgeous skirt cause why not. Anyone can wear what they like. Gender stereotypes be damned.

I N N O C E N C E

An Older!Jaded!Auror!Harry Study :)

—

“But I don’t want to be here Lils!” Harry mutters as he drags another lungful of smoke and tar into his lungs. Nasty habit he picked up in his early auror days, and now was a good enough excuse to shy away from the crowds that still continued to linker around him.

The white snake curled around his neck, settling over his shoulder “Your promisssed the bosssy one and ssshe promised me micccce.”

Harry was half naked, face sore from the unnecessary smiling. Pansy somehow worked her way up to editor in chief of Witch Weekly, whatever that means, and wrangled Harry into their stupid annual charity calendar shoot.

He manages to dodge her every year, but Parkinson was a Slytherin and her slimy Slytherin self found out from Ron who knows from Hermione who was there when Harry adopted the pale white snake named Lily because she reminded him of Hedwig, that Harry Potter has a new pet. So how could he be so heartless as to say ‘no’ to a magical animal shelter charity fundraiser?

None of the photos were usable. The photographer was exasperated, Harry was sure he was about to get hexed. He was awkward in front of the light. The cameras, the terribly uncomfortable leather pants Pansy blackmailed him into. He felt bad for Lily, but she assured him she was enjoying the limelight, the only snake in the catalogue.

“The photographer saysss I’m beautifullll,” Lily sneers as Harry takes another drag. Stupid sassy snake.

He sighs, figures it’s time to head back in when he hears the flash and click of the camera. Instinct has him holding a wand to his photographers throat in a second, the poor man nearly in tears.

“S-Sorry Mr. Potter! But the candid photo was the short! I swear pleasedon’thexme!”

He lowers his wand, eyes narrowing, “Am I done?”

The petrified man nods shakily. Harry smiles, drops the butt of his cig on the ground and snuffs it with his heel. “Good, tell Pansy I’m never doing this again.”

—

"Home and magic, same shape."

Forged Through Flowing Water by @tedahfromtayla (written for hephaestiions, Erised 2020) (E, 40k) 

Ever since I read this fic, I knew I would have to at some point write a rec for it because even the increasingly unhinged, breathless comments I left on every chapter of this story did not feel nearly enough to show my vast well of appreciation. So here I am, three months later, still misty-eyed over the emotions and still unable to comprehend that a fic like this actually exists– a fic I can go back to, take refuge in over and over again. 

A fic following Harry’s journey of reconnection with his Indian roots and Draco’s journey through the active deconstruction of his crumbling biases, Forged Through Flowing Water is an unparalleled work of art when it comes to commentary on decolonisation, privilege and disadvantage. It’s a love story that takes its time with a brilliantly satisfying pay-off for the wait, illustrating the importance of finding common ground and helping each other become better people as a prelude to lasting love. 

There is so much I have to say about this fic. Tedah’s style is phenomenal– introspective, descriptive, and full of little revelations culminating in a fascinating read. Not only does she do the enemies-to-friends-to-lovers trope with believable accuracy, she absolutely nails the characters and their complicated dynamics. The side-characters fleshed out with impressive care– my continuous, raging crush on Ms. Rana bears testament to this. The premise is so interesting, and the amount of research and dedication that has gone into the world-building and complex magical theory shines through. It’s a personal favourite moment of mine when the title of a fic, otherwise innocuous suddenly makes utter and complete sense, and that moment in FTFW is possibly one of the best in the game. A tense, electric atmosphere is shot through with Tedah’s brilliant humour that makes an appearance at every opportune moment and the fic perches on the delicate balance she creates throughout. 

I know Erised fics are tailored to the giftee’s detailed preferences, but I had no idea that even a gift fic could nail everything I could ever want from something I’m reading and experiencing with this much precision. I cannot study Indian History properly– I failed countless exams on the subject because I couldn’t bring myself to sit down and calmly read through the history of colonisation and the blood it took to free us from it. The massacres, the destruction, the demolition, the dehumanisation. There is no fic– there has, thus far not even been a piece of published literature that made that aspect of the history of my people feel so... seen. The setting cycling through Indian cities, including a thrilling few chapters in my hometown that made me scream with excitement on the first read and cry with emotion on the second. The integration of magic into the plot and into the culture and communities... I don’t have the words to explain how it made me feel. There are so many moments in this that are embraces from a skilled author who has thrown their weight behind the research and rendering of representation for a reader who clung to it all, pressure building behind her eyelids with the accuracy of the pain and the relief of the soothing. 

This fic was a love letter to many things. To Sikh, Desi!Harry, with his beard and kurta and the depth of his soul that spills into every line of this work. To Draco, remaining in character even as the definition of that character shifts into one of understanding and growth. To strong women and the work they do to secure and stabilise communities that need them. To India, to its history, to its nature and to its people. To representation. To that unmatched feeling of stepping out into the sunlight during the autumn months after a heavy season of monsoon. To love itself and the work it takes to find it. 

Anon cont: And yes, Hari can be a nickname for Harikrishna, though the one boy I knew with that name, we called him Krishna or just Harikrishna. Tbh my aversion to that stems mainly from it being too close to my own name (close enough that one of my nicknames is Harry). It somehow robs me of the distance I like in my fiction. My aversion to Indian Harry could also be partly because of that. Just as I only like to read about racism, sexism, homophobia, etc as allegory only. There's enough of that irl.

Link to ask anon is talking about

Luckywaters: If you find that fic, I’d love to read it-- I definitely understand how this trope could be done wrong, and as a writer who is white I always love more opinions on how to write non-white characters in a way that gives life to real experience instead of just preconceived notions. Examples of fics that do it well always help.