not sure if you're a boy or a girl

𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘭
𝘚𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘢 𝘣𝘰𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

Sirius sang loudly to Bowie, dancing around their dorm room. He kicked a pair of shoes out of his way as he danced over to James. James ruffled Sirius's hair, joining the song.

𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘪𝘳’𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵
𝘏𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘦, 𝘭𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

They both fell onto Peter’s bed, shaking with laughter.

“That's such a relatable line,” Sirius laughed.

“What? Your hair’s alright?” James asked.

Sirius pulled himself into a sitting position. “No, she's not sure if you're a boy or a girl. Real.”

“How?” James rolled onto his side, propping himself on his elbow.

“Cause sometimes you're not sure if you're a boy or a girl.”

Sirius didn't know what was so confusing about that. Bowie was obviously thinking it too. Sirius thought everyone thought it sometimes. He couldn't see how someone wouldn't wonder that occasionally. It didn't seem so weird, feeling like the opposite gender every now and then. Sirius thought it probably had something to do with curiosity or unfamiliarity, thinking about yourself as what you could never be.

“Who? You, 'cause I'm pretty sure I've never been confused about that.” James laughed, but he looked more confused than amused.

“Really?” Sirius asked. “You've never, like, thought about being a girl or anything?”

“Not that I recall, no.”

“I mean, you don't ever think about what you'd be like if you were a girl?”

James shook his head, letting out an awkward laugh. “I've never thought of that in my life.”

“Never?”

James shook his head again.

Sirius curled his legs beneath himself, feeling a sudden wave of uncertainty wash over him. He couldn't possibly be the only one who had thought about this.

“What about you, Peter?” Sirius asked.

“Have I ever thought about being a girl?” Peter chewed his lip as he stared at Sirius. “No,” he said, lip still trapped between his teeth.

James sat up, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and leaning forward. “Remus, have you ever thought about being a girl?”

Remus looked up from his book, his face twisted in a mix of surprise and confusion. He looked from James to Sirius to Peter. “No,” he answered slowly. “Have you?”

“No! But Sirius said he had.”

“Sirius?” Remus’s expression softened into one of curiosity.

Sirius felt nervous under Remus’s gaze. He wished he'd never said anything in the first place. But he couldn't take back what he'd said, so he did the next best thing. What he always did when he wanted the others to ignore when he'd accidentally shared too much. He started laughing. He laughed until James and Peter awkwardly joined in.

“Just forget it, guys,” Sirius said, wiping at his eyes. “It's not serious.”

“You're Sirius,” James and Peter said at the same time.

The three of them fell into real laughter. Remus didn't laugh, though. He watched as his three friends moved past the incident, but he didn't. Usually, when Sirius didn't want to talk about something it meant it was important. And it was making him feel bad. Remus wasn't going to press Sirius, but he wasn't going to forget this.

Their lives went on as if nothing had ever happened. Nobody mentioned anything. James and Peter didn't think about it, and if they did they acted like they didn't. Sirius couldn't stop thinking about it.

Sirius did his best to push these thoughts away, thoughts of wanting to be a girl, but it seemed like ever since he said it out loud that night, they wouldn't stop trying to push themselves out. He noticed how pretty girls were, how nice they looked in their skirts and their hair ribbons, and he felt a sharp ache in his chest. A horrible, nauseating jealousy.

His situation would almost be laughable if it weren't so panic-inducing. He loved girls so much, yet he didn't want to date them. He had thought for a while that he was attracted to girls, but after some major questioning and a few less-than-pleasant experiences, he decided against it. He just really liked the way girls looked. He told himself that was completely normal, girls are just people and people are pretty, but now he was thinking it was something else.

Sirius had felt this funny feeling before, but it had never been so strong as it was now. Like it had been growing inside him his whole life and now it was trying to get out, slowly eating its way through him until it escaped.

But Sirius wouldn't let it escape. He would bury it so deep inside him it would suffocate. And then everything would be fine and he wouldn't feel bad or weird or make his friends uncomfortable.

That was a lot easier said than done. He couldn't stop noticing girls. There was a time when he wished he would like girls as much as he did right now. He was acting like a girl-obsessed weirdo. They were just so pretty, and soft, and they smelled so nice. The way they spoke to each other, complimented one another, was beautiful.

You're so pretty

You look gorgeous in that dress

Your hair looks so soft. What do you use?

Sirius wanted those compliments. He wanted to share beauty secrets. He wanted to whisper and giggle in a group of pretty, sweet girls.

But that led him to a whole different issue. He didn't always feel like this. He actually liked being a boy. He liked the way his body looked, with his flat chest, sharp jaw, and narrow, boyish hips. He didn't wish for curves or breasts or anything weird like that. He was content being a boy.

And then he had weird days. Yes, that's all they were, weird, totally unexplainable feelings that for some reason chose to randomly haunt him. They made him long to be seen as a girl, to see himself as a girl, made the boy staring back at him in the mirror look like a stranger.

But he wasn't. He wasn't a stranger. Sirius liked being a boy. He didn't like feeling like a girl. When he felt like a girl, he felt upset. When he felt like a boy, he felt happy. It was simple, really. When he was a boy he didn't think about her.

Sirius decided that he was definitely a boy. He wouldn't be so upset about feeling like a girl if he actually were one. He had no problem with being a girl if that were the case. If he wanted to be a girl, consistently, not playing tug of war with his gender, then that would be fine. He had no problem being transgender. It was the constant struggle to make a decision that had him in a whirl.

Sirius found himself acting crazier than usual. The tiniest things, such as a girl flipping her cascading curls over her shoulders, sent him into a breakdown. He clutched the edges of the sink, staring in the mirror at the tears rolling down his ugly, imperfect, boyish face. The person staring back wasn't him, yet the person he wished to see wouldn't feel like him either. He wasn't a boy, but he wasn't a girl either. He was some sort of deformed freak.

It was a while of breakdowns, confusion, and self-loathing before Sirius dared to indulge in any form of femininity. He wouldn't even go so far as to call it that. Androgyny, more like.

Sirius had been flipping through one of his Muggle magazines, tearing out pictures of David Bowie to adorn his area of the dorm room. Bowie was absolutely gorgeous, a perfect specimen like a star fell from the sky and the dust formed a human. He was Sirius's favorite singer and his role model as well.

Sirius had always found the way Bowie expressed himself through makeup and unique outfits to be super cool. Especially the makeup part, since he was a boy after all. It made Sirius wonder if maybe he could wear makeup too. Because Bowie wore makeup and he wasn't a girl. So Sirius could wear makeup too, and it didn't have to be because he felt like a girl. It was just because he was a rockstar. Yes, that's it, a rockstar.

Sirius bought himself some makeup to try out. He bought bold eyeshadows, bright lip colors, shimmery highlighter, and glitter for his eyes and face. He even bought some fake eyelashes. He probably wouldn't be using those, he wasn't even sure how to put them on, but he thought they were kind of cool so he bought them. The only girly thing Sirius had ever worn was nail polish, always black because that was edgy and rebellious. He bought some in two colorful shades, red and yellow.

He practiced his makeup alone for a while, not telling his friends what he was doing. Not that he was doing anything wrong, of course, he just wasn't sure how they'd react and he wasn't ready to let them know just yet.

James found out before Sirius could even make the choice to tell him. He had found some of Sirius’s makeup that he'd accidentally left lying out.

“What is this?” James asked, holding up a bright red lipstick. He twisted the top off, pulling it out. “Do you think it's my color?” he joked, holding it up to his face.

“I didn't know you wore lipstick,” Peter quipped.

“Neither did I.” James spread the glossy color across his lips, painting them a bold red. “Do I look beautiful?” He puckered his lips, trying to contain his laughter.

“No,” Peter answered, not bothering to hold back his own laughs.

Sirius didn't say anything. He didn't tell them that it was his. James and Peter were laughing at the lipstick and he didn't want them to laugh at him too.

“I think you look lovely,” Remus said to James.

“Why thank you, Remus,” James said, placing his hands under his chin.

“Who’s lipstick is that anyway?” Peter asked. He raised his eyebrows at James as if he were suggesting something.

“Hey,” James said defensively, pointing at Peter. “If I had a girl in here, I would've already told you all about it.”

A girl.

For some reason, those words hit Sirius hard. He knew makeup was for girls, and maybe that was part of the reason he liked it. But he wasn't a girl. But maybe he might not hate being included with them. Would James think it was weird if Sirius, a boy, was wearing makeup? Would he not want to be friends anymore? He'd definitely think it weird if Sirius was wearing makeup because he didn't want to be a boy.

“Well, then where did it come from?” Peter asked.

“Does it matter?” Remus said. He sounded irritated.

“I guess not,” Peter shrugged.

“Is it yours, mate?” James asked Remus teasingly. “I didn't know you were into that sort of stuff.”

Sirius winced and hoped James didn't notice. He couldn't hide the hurt that little statement caused. That sort of stuff. Weird stuff.

“It's not so weird,” Remus said. For a second, Sirius thought Remus could read his mind until he realized he was talking to James.

“No, it's not weird,” James agreed, tossing the lipstick to Remus. There was a wide grin on his face, but he didn't sound like he was joking.

Sirius finally spoke up. “David Bowie wears makeup.”

The three boys stared at him in confusion for a moment before James spoke.

“That’s cool. Bowie’s awesome.”

“It's mine,” Sirius said quietly.

“What?”

“The lipstick, it's mine,” Sirius repeated himself. “I bought some makeup. You know, to be like Bowie.”

“That’s so cool,” James said.

Remus tossed the lipstick to Sirius.

“Do you have more?” James asked. “You should do some cool looks like he does. With, like, blue eyes and stuff.”

And that was that. They didn't care that Sirius wore makeup. Of course, they might feel different if they found out being ‘a rockstar’ and ‘like Bowie’ weren't Sirius's only reasons for wearing it. But that wasn't important.

Sirius became more confident, showing off his makeup looks to his friends, and eventually wearing makeup regularly. The days he wore makeup may have coincided with the days he felt like he wanted to be a girl, but no one needed to know that.

Some of his schoolmates were not as supportive. A few told him he looked cool, but a lot of them offered him funny looks, whispers, and snide comments. One boy called him a particularly nasty word. Sirius was shocked upon hearing it. It wasn't a word he'd never heard before, but it seemed to drain any confidence he'd previously had, replacing it with a deep shame and embarrassment.

Sirius felt like running away, wiping his makeup off, and never wearing it again.

James squeezed his shoulder in a
comforting gesture, but he was staring ahead of him at the boy snickering with his friends. He pulled out his wand, his eyes gleaming furiously, and Peter did the same, following James down the hall after the boys.

Remus put his arm around Sirius, pulling him into his side. “Are you alright?” he asked softly.

Sirius could only nod, afraid if he spoke he'd start crying. “Excuse me,” he managed to say, freeing himself from Remus’s hold. He ran off before Remus could say anything else.

Sirius hid himself in the boys’ lavatory, ruining his makeup with his tears. He should have known better. He knew he was being weird, he knew it wasn't right, the way he felt. This must be his punishment. He replayed the cruel words his schoolmates said to him in his head, but there was one specific voice he couldn't stop hearing.

His mother, telling him over and over again that it was unnatural, immoral, undesirable. He was broken, a freak, and he ought to be ashamed of himself.

Sirius had been crying far too much lately. He didn't usually cry so much. He wiped at his eyes, smearing his mascara and eyeliner across his cheeks and on his fingers.

He heard someone enter the room and looked up, startled, until he saw it was only Remus. Remus stood beside him, leaning against the sink and Sirius turned away so Remus wouldn't see what a mess he was.

“I'm sorry,” he sniffled, wiping at his eyes. “I don't know why I'm crying.”

“It's alright,” Remus assured him in the kind, gentle way he always does when Sirius is upset. “Can I hug you?”

Sirius didn't turn around, but he nodded. Remus wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into his chest, and kissing the top of his head. Sirius sobbed into Remus’s chest and Remus stroked his hair.

“I know it's hard, but you shouldn't let them get to you.” Remus swiped his thumb under Sirius’s eye. “And let them ruin your cool makeup.”

Remus was trying to comfort him, but Sirius was stuck on the word he used. Cool. That was all he ever heard, how cool and handsome he looked. And he liked that sometimes, but he wanted to be to other things. Like, pretty, maybe.

“Do you think I'm pretty?” he mumbled into Remus’s shirt. He was getting makeup on it, but Remus didn't care.

“So pretty,” Remus replied. “The prettiest boy I've ever seen.”

Sirius wished he hadn't asked. He would rather have not known. It just made him sob harder. He knew Remus didn't mean to hurt him, but it hurt nonetheless.

Remus rubbed his back, rocking him slightly.
“I'm sorry,” he whispered.

Sirius didn't know what Remus was apologizing for. He wondered if Remus even knew.

Since his makeup was already ruined, Sirius cleaned it off and went barefaced for the rest of his lessons. Remus encouraged him to just redo it, probably assuming he didn't want to get made fun of anymore. And he didn't, but that wasn't his main reason.

Try as he did to lie to himself, he couldn't deny that the reason he was wearing makeup had nothing to do with being a rockstar, or a rebel, and everything to do with being a girl. It was less about the names he was being called, and more about the ones he wasn't.

For the rest of the week, Sirius only did his makeup in private. He sat in his bed flipping through his magazines, staring longingly at the pictures of Bowie with his beautifully eccentric outfits and painted face. Sirius wondered if Bowie was ever confused. If he ever felt like he was doing something wrong. Maybe he cried in the bathroom when people were mean to him, too. Though, Bowie seemed a lot more confident than Sirius.

Remus was curled up at the foot of Sirius’s bed reading, or, rather, pretending to read. He was more interested in whatever was going through Sirius’s head right now. He saw the sadness in his eyes as he stared at his magazine and Remus thought Sirius probably wasn't focused on what he was reading either.

Remus set his book down and crawled over to Sirius, positioning himself right beside him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Sirius sighed, tossing his magazine aside.

Remus picked it up, flipping through the pages. He wasn't entirely sure what was making Sirius so upset. He thought it was that Sirius wanted to wear makeup, but he was embarrassed because it was ‘for girls.’ That must be why Sirius was saying he felt like he wanted to be a girl. Because he felt there were things he wasn't allowed to do.

Remus picked up another magazine. This one wasn't a music magazine or any of the usual ones Sirius bought. It was full of women with vibrant makeup, big hair, and chunky accessories.

“Look at these cool boots,” he said, turning the magazine to show Sirius. He pointed out a pair of short, lilac cowgirl boots.

“You like those?” Sirius asked, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

“I mean, I probably wouldn't wear them, but yeah. They're cool.”

Sirius didn't laugh, but his widening grin told Remus he wanted to.

“Don't laugh at me.” Remus shoved Sirius with his shoulder, and then they were both laughing.

“I'm sorry, I'm sorry,” Sirius apologized. “They are very cool.”

Remus nestled back against the pillow, Sirius leaning against him, and they looked through the magazine together.

“This lady’s eye makeup is really bright,” Remus said. The woman had a neon aqua-colored shadow over her eyelids reaching up to her eyebrows.

“That's how they wear it, Remus,” Sirius said, sounding very knowledgeable. “It's fashionable.”

“Oh, sorry,” Remus apologized sarcastically. “You're just so wise in the ways of fashion.”

“I am,” Sirius nodded proudly.

“Why haven't you been doing your makeup?” Remus asked suddenly.

Sirius's smile faded. “Oh, well, I just haven't felt like it, I guess.” That was only partly true. Sirius hadn't felt like doing his makeup every day, but he wouldn't have done it even if he had.

“Okay.” Remus knew that wasn't the reason, but he didn't say anything. Sirius could tell him when he was ready.

“Do you want to do my makeup?” Remus asked.

“What?”

“Would you like to do my makeup?” Remus repeated the question.

“You want me to do your makeup?” Sirius asked. “But you don't even wear makeup.”

“I could,” Remus replied casually, like he had no reason to not wear makeup and it was just something to do. And to Remus, it probably was. Remus wasn't scared like Sirius was.

Sirius stared at Remus for a moment as if he weren't quite sure how to respond. Why was Remus doing this? Was Remus interested in wearing makeup? Maybe he was just curious because Sirius wore makeup. Sirius did think doing his boyfriend's makeup would be fun.

“Okay,” he finally said. “Okay, yeah, I'll do your makeup.”

Sirius gathered his things, spreading them out in front of Remus. “I'm not gonna do your foundation 'cause your skin’s a lot darker than mine.”

“Do my eyes.” Remus bat his eyelashes at Sirius. “Do them blue like the girls in the magazine.”

Sirius beamed with excitement as he opened up his eyeshadow palette and grabbed a brush. He did Remus’s eyes blue like he wanted, adding a darker blue beneath his eyes.

“Hold still,” Sirius whined as he tried to do Remus’s eyeliner.

“I'm not moving,” Remus laughed.

“Hush,” Sirius ordered. He held Remus’s head in place, his fingers curling around his chin, narrowing his eyes in concentration.

“Do you want glitter?” Sirius asked. Remus couldn't refuse the bright grin on his boyfriend's face.

Sirius brushed glitter over Remus’s eyelids and across his cheekbones. They finished the look with a cheerful red lip.

“How do I look?” Remus asked, batting his long, mascara-covered eyelashes.

He looked gorgeous. Remus had perfectly sculpted features, now accentuated with contour and highlight. His plush lips looked full and so kissable in that delicious shade of candy red. The glitter around his eyes made his amber orbs sparkle. Sirius wished he could be that good-looking.

“Gorgeous.”

“Thanks,” Remus said. “Should we do yours?”

Sirius shook his head. “I'm not in the mood.”

Remus took Sirius’s hands in his. “It's okay, you know? Boys can wear makeup, and it doesn't have to be a big deal or mean anything.”

Sirius stared down at his and Remus’s hands. Remus dragged his thumb over Sirius’s smooth knuckles. Sirius considered telling Remus what’s been bothering him, but he didn't think he'd be able to explain it. And Remus probably wouldn't understand anyway.

“Sirius?” Remus said, and Sirius realized he was still waiting for a reply.

“Oh, yeah, I know.”

“You do?” Remus didn't look convinced.

“Yeah, of course,” Sirius smiled. “It's whatever.”

Remus opened his mouth to speak again, but Sirius quickly changed the subject. If Sirius didn't want to talk about it, Remus would respect that, but he hoped Sirius would let him in eventually, on his own. Until then, Remus would do his best to let Sirius know that he could always be himself around him.

***

Sirius had felt really good for the past three days. He counted. He tried to track the days he felt like a boy and the ones he felt like a girl, hoping that would somehow help him figure out what was wrong with him and how to fix it. It wasn't a very good method since he often lost track and forgot to do it anyway.

Right now, all he knew was that for the last three days, he'd felt like a boy, and he felt great. He was happy being a boy, and there were no sneaky thoughts creeping up on him. Sirius wondered why he couldn't feel like this every day. Why did it always have to end?

After that comfortable bliss, Sirius’s inner turmoil returned, once again plaguing him with thoughts of being a girl. He supposed this was his life now. He went through periods, sometimes as long as a week, sometimes as short as one day, where he was one gender before hopping to the next one. He was a gender-hopper.

Today was one of his dreaded girl days. Sirius was sitting in the common room, still in his uniform even though lessons had ended a while ago. He didn't want to wear any of his clothes. He hated all of them.

Sirius remembered when Regulus was little and refused to wear his own clothes, always stealing Sirius’s. It was annoying at the time, but now Sirius understood. Sirius wished he had a sister to steal clothes from.

He might not have a sister, but he had something close. He and Marlene had a similar style and he was sure she wouldn't mind lending him a few things. Except, he didn't want to ask her. Then he'd have to explain why he wanted her clothes and that was a conversation he still didn't know how to have.

Sirius didn't know how he would go about getting Marlene’s clothes without asking her. It's not like he could just walk into her room. He stood at the bottom of the girls’ stairs, devising a plan. A plan that resulted in him simply walking straight up the steps.

Sirius wasn't expecting the stairs to let him up. But when he reached the top of the steps without being thrown off, he was glad he'd tried. He decided to not think about it. Instead, he headed for Marlene’s room.

Marlene did have a good sense of style. Sirius was in no need of band tees and jeans, but he took some of her cropped shirts and a pair of leather pants. He took two pairs of tights, one sheer and the other fishnets, and a cool corset top. He picked out a deep red, strapless crop top that he thought would suit him nicely and a denim waistcoat.

Sirius found a dress that he thought would look pretty. On someone else. It was a simple dress, just a black slip with lace trimming the edges. It was cute. When Sirius was younger he used to sneak into Regulus’s closet and admire his pretty gowns and jewelry. That was starting to mean something different to him now than just curious admiration of Regulus’s pretty things. Sirius lingered on the dress for a moment too long before shutting the wardrobe. He took his armful of clothes and was on his way.
Once he was back in his own room alone, he began putting an outfit together. He shoved the rest of the clothes beneath the bed.

Sirius put on the corset top and observed himself in the mirror. He liked the way it made his middle smaller and gave him the false impression of curves, but it would've looked better if he had breasts. He smoothed his hands down his painfully flat chest and got an idea. He grabbed two pairs of his socks, stuffed them inside the space between his top and his chest, and pulled a tight-fitting t-shirt over. It did give the appearance that he had breasts. Small ones, but still.

Sirius squeezed himself into Marlene's dark red leather pants that laced up on the sides. He paired them with his own platform boots. He wished he had a pair of heels, but he wouldn't be able to fit in Marlene’s.

He did his makeup and finished off the look with a few necklaces and a bunch of rings. He wished his ears were pierced so he could wear earrings too. He could probably get that arranged if he really wanted. James had his ears pierced.

Sirius admired himself in the mirror, smiling at his own work. He looked pretty. He felt pretty. Sirius liked himself like this.