all snark // no substance

diverse-distractions:

“She paused for a moment, then sighed and said, “But I am not sure you would understand either, Mr. Potter. You do not have any experience being a Mudblood in this society.”

James leaned back in his chair. “I’ve been called a blood traitor for years,” he said quietly.

She frowned, eyebrows furrowed as she gazed at him wordlessly. Then she laughed and shook her head, arms folded over her chest. Her eyes darted about for a moment, before settling on him once more, and he was struck by the oddest sensation of being weighed and measured. He had a feeling he hadn’t passed her test.

Her laughter had stopped, cut off abruptly and she yanked her chair out and sat down again. “You don’t think they look down on me, too?” James asked, a bit annoyed.

“Look down on you?” she asked in disbelief. “Do you really think that? Do you really think they look down on you?” […] At length, Evans said, “You’re a pureblood, Mr. Potter. And not just any pureblood. You are a Potter. You are wealthy, you are prestigious, and your family can trace its line back for generations.”

“And they hate me for the things I’ve decided to do with my life,” James said firmly. “Lestrange and his wife, Mrs. Malfoy, do you think they’re willing to overlook my actions just because I am a pureblood?”

“But don’t you see the difference?” she murmured, green eyes catching his gaze with their sudden seriousness. “Can’t you understand that being hated is not the same as being looked down upon?” She tilted her chin up, her words defiant. “You are a wealthy pureblood. And they may hate you for what you’ve done, but they don’t think you are beneath them. You are the enemy, yes. But you aren’t trash. You aren’t filth. You are still a pureblood, and nothing will ever change that.”

“Marrying a Muggleborn might,” James argued, and then stopped, surprised at himself. He had absolutely no idea why that thought had come to mind given how little time or energy he spent thinking about his marital prospects. Besides Mrs. McKinnon’s insistence that he marry Marlene, of course… He had no doubt he was an eligible bachelor, but like Sirius, he simply didn’t date seriously. He had yet to find a woman who he could tolerate dating more than once, let alone consider actually marrying. And yet here he was using marriage to a Muggleborn as his argument.

“Have you considered that?” Evans asked pointedly. “Have you dated anyone who wasn’t at least a half-blood?”

He hadn’t, but it wasn’t because of prejudice. “I don’t believe in blood purity nonsense,” he said defensively.

“Of course not,” Evans agreed. “But in a world built around that very notion, it is a bit difficult to escape it. The families that your parents socialized with when you were growing up… I presume most of them were also purebloods? Not through any prejudice, of course, but merely because purebloods tend to all know each other. It is a small magical world, after all.”

“Plenty of my friends at Hogwarts were…”

She cut him off coldly, “You might have no recollection of me from Hogwarts, Mr. Potter, but I remember you. Sirius Black and Marlene McKinnon. Both purebloods, aren’t they? And they were your best mates, right?”

James had nothing to say in response to that. It wasn’t as though he only sought out purebloods as friends, and it certainly wasn’t as though he looked down on Muggleborns as being less than him. But most of his parents’ friends had been purebloods, Sirius and Marlene were both purebloods, and every girl he had dated had been either a pureblood or a half-blood, mostly because it had been at his mother’s urging and they had been daughters or nieces of her friends. But both his parents were gone now and those days of incredibly awkward dinners with equally embarrassed girls were long over.

“My point, Mr. Potter, is that we are not in the same position. You might be hated, but you are not viewed as less than human. And you can always change your opinions…” Here she held up a hand to forestall his immediate retort, “…regardless of the fact that you won’t change them, you do still have that option. You could no longer be a blood traitor if you so choose. There is nothing I can do to be anything other than a Mudblood in their eyes.”

James rubbed his eyes wearily. They were both silent for a few minutes, Evans apparently content with having made her point, and James not really sure what to say. There was no way to counter her argument, but he didn’t like the way she had twisted his life to make him sound like some sort of bigot. Like the Lestranges or the Malfoys. He wasn’t that sort of person, and if he had always taken his status as a pureblood for granted… well, it wasn’t because he actually believed in any of the ridiculous notions spouted by his opponents.”

—

Fool Me Twice by DawnieS

A great fictional example of the privilege allies benefit from.

“…he didn’t like the way she had twisted his life to make him sound like some sort of bigot. Like the Lestranges or the Malfoys. He wasn’t that sort of person, and if he had always taken his status as a pureblood for granted… well, it wasn’t because he actually believed in any of the ridiculous notions spouted by his opponents.”

Using fan fiction to teach social justice?