| lupercus @ 2003-05-07 14:33:00 |
| Current mood: |  melancholy |
| Current music: | "There Goes Your Man," The Doxies |
Could you be a little less...
Why yes, I'm still a witch. So good of you to notice.
I am quickly losing interest in being one, however. It's quite a bit more complicated than it seemed to be, at first. A week ago no one gave a damn about how I looked or what I wore or what I ate for dinner every night because - well, because I was a man, and the only person who ever gave me more than just a passing glance was Sirius. I was just Remus, and everyone was perfectly fine with that.
Now everyone's got an opinion. I can't wear anything comfortable because either I'm showing too much or I'm not showing enough. The clothes Narcissa generously lent me are very lovely and highly uncomfortable, especially the shoes, but for some reason I still wear them because the compliments I get make the discomfort worth it. I feel utterly ridiculous walking down the hallways in shoes too small and pointed for my feet, but everyone else seems to like it, so... I do it. And I don't know why.
I can't smile at people the way I used to. They seem to think you're after something, or you want them to say things to you that you really don't want to hear. In Hogsmeade yesterday a wizard held the door for me and when I thanked him, he seemed to think that what I'd actually meant was 'Please, ogle me and then grope me when I pass by.' I got a free drink at the Three Broomsticks, although in the end it wasn't free because the chap who sent it seemed to think that my accepting it meant I would follow him home. I never gave anyone the impression that I wanted their attention, except by merely being there, and having breasts.
Spent yesterday evening having a conversation with Lavender and Parvati. I was hoping to try and understand their obsession with weight-loss, but we didn't get very far on that. They brought a stack of magazines and we looked through them, and I've never seen witches so thin as they are in Witch Weekly. Lavender and Parvati both seemed enthralled by these women, launching into lengthy treatises on their beauty as if it were more powerful than any kind of magic in the world. The frightening thing is that by the time they left, I found myself looking at the pictures and wishing I looked that way. Perhaps Sirius wouldn't be so frustrated with my current state if it were more presentable, more beautiful. Thinner. Perhaps I wouldn't feel so frustrated. I don't know.
Accompanied Narcissa to her spa on Monday, where several very young and nubile young men pampered us to Bacchanalian extremes. She seemed eager to talk again, as her son's continued silence is, in her words, 'breaking her heart.' I tried to reassure her, tell her that her son is probably very busy, and he has things he needs to sort out, and there's a point in every teenager's life where their parents drop off the map for a bit, and I think that consoled her in some way. Enough for her to stay silent during her facial, and the lecture I got on my apparently wretched skin regime. I am, according to Bruno, an old hag with more wrinkles and lines than a relief map of the Andes. (All right, so he didn't say it in those exact words, but the meaning was there. I wound up buying a lot of scrubs and powders and potions and things I don't really think I need, but he insisted I did, and Narcissa gently suggested he might have been right.)
Severus, I don't know how much more of womanhood I can take before I wind up in St Mungo's. Any progress?
Being a woman has made me see how the world was made for people who aren't women. I think I have an easier time of it as a bloody werewolf.
I'll be in my office if anyone needs me, settling last-minute wedding details in between marking scrolls for the 6th years, and wondering where Sirius has got to.
Comments:
| jadedsirius @ 2003-05-07 08:05 pm UTC |
Sorry, love, I was just doing a bit of my own research. And I dropped in to threaten Snape. He looks terrible, and it serves him right.
As for your appearance, please stop worrying. You don't need all that stuff. In fact, we used to actually have a countertop in the bathroom. It seems to have disappeared and the cabinet is in danger of collapse.
Man or woman, I love you as you are.
~Sirius
| lupercus @ 2003-05-07 11:34 pm UTC |
From what Harry and Cho told me at lunch today, their Potions classes have been little more than research sessions. He's got the children going through books and marking anything that looks relevant to my, er, problem. Harry also said he looked quite pale - which if you think about it is not a little bit scary.
I'm tempted to go to Dumbledore about this. I'm getting worried. Not just for our sake but for his.
Sorry about the bath, dear. I'll clear everything out and magick a few new shelves for it all. I'm just a little... I don't know. Uneasy. I don't know if I was a handsome man, but I've no idea what sort of woman I make, and... I just don't want you to feel like you're... stuck.
And I love you too, dear. Is it Saturday, yet?
- Remus