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Marge as a mirror for Petunia's class anxiety

Re-reading PoA for the billionth time (thank you insomnia), I found Marge and Petunia’s dynamic fascinating.

The few scenes of them together reveal much about their relationship. Marge, with her overbearing confidence and crass behaviour, embodies everything Petunia cannot afford to be: loud, unapologetic, and entirely unbothered by societal judgment. Petunia’s deference to Marge is not born of affection or respect but of necessity (a desperate bid to secure her tenuous position within the Dursley family and, by extension, the social status she clings to so desperately).

From the moment Marge strides into the Dursley home, the imbalance of power between the two women is clear. Marge ignores Harry entirely, treating him like a "hat stand," and greets Petunia with a brusque, physical dominance, "bumping her large jaw against Petunia’s bony cheekbone." This awkward, perfunctory exchange is far from a warm familial embrace; it is a collision of two bodies that reflects the transactional and hierarchical nature of their relationship. Marge’s large jaw (symbolic of her overbearing personality) contrasts with Petunia’s "bony cheekbone," underscoring Petunia’s fragility, both physical and social. This brusque greeting sets the tone for the rest of their interactions, where Marge’s dominance and Petunia’s submissiveness are repeatedly reinforced.

This dynamic becomes even clearer in the kitchen, where Marge’s dog, Ripper, disrupts the pristine order Petunia painstakingly maintains. Despite her evident dislike of animals (Harry observes her "wince slightly as tea and drool flecked her clean floor"), Petunia says nothing, allowing Ripper free rein. This small act of submission symbolises a broader pattern: Petunia is willing to sacrifice her comfort and preferences to maintain Marge’s approval. The scene illustrates how Petunia’s obsession with control and refinement crumbles in the face of Marge’s unapologetic intrusion.

The tension between Petunia’s forced refinement and Marge’s unapologetic crassness comes to a head during Marge’s final dinner:

"‘Aah,’ said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. ‘Excellent nosh, Petunia. It’s normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after.’ She burped richly and patted her great tweed stomach."

Here, Petunia’s exaggerated manners (such as sipping coffee with her "little finger sticking out") highlight her performance of refinement, a middle-class aspiration to maintain appearances. Marge, however, is wholly unconcerned with such performances. Her casual dismissal of Petunia’s elaborate dinner—"It’s normally just a fry-up for me"—strips Petunia’s efforts of their meaning. Marge’s behaviour (which includes "burping richly" and patting her stomach) is not a lapse in decorum but an expression of her confidence and entitlement. She does not perform respectability because she feels no need to prove it; her unbothered nature is tied to her place in Vernon’s family and the social hierarchy it represents. 

Petunia’s deference to Marge extends beyond hosting, reaching into darker territory: her complicity in Marge’s mistreatment of Harry. At Dudley’s fifth birthday party, Marge strikes Harry with her walking stick to stop him from beating Dudley at musical statues (an act of casual violence Petunia allows without objection). Years later, Marge gifts Dudley a "computerised robot" for Christmas while presenting Harry with a box of dog biscuits. These acts of cruelty are not merely expressions of Marge’s disdain for Harry but also tests of Petunia’s loyalty. By remaining silent, Petunia reinforces the household hierarchy and aligns herself with Marge and Vernon. Harry’s humiliation becomes a scapegoat for Petunia’s insecurities (deflecting attention from the precariousness of her own position within the family).

This dynamic reaches its sharpest expression during Marge’s comments about bloodlines:

"‘It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. Now, I’m not saying anything against your family, Petunia—I mean, your sister was a bad egg. But it’s no wonder Harry turned out the way he did, bad blood will out in the end.’"

The qualifier, "I’m not saying anything against your family," is transparently disingenuous (as Marge proceeds to disparage Lily directly). This backhanded insult cuts to the heart of Petunia’s anxieties. Marge’s comments about "bad blood" are not just an attack on Harry but a veiled critique of Petunia’s background (drawing attention to the very aspects of her identity she seeks to suppress: her connection to Lily and her working-class roots). Petunia’s silence here is significant. Rather than defending Lily or Harry, she aligns herself with Marge’s prejudices (prioritising her need to conform to Vernon’s family over her own familial bonds). This act of complicity underscores Petunia’s internalised shame and her desperation to distance herself from the parts of her identity that threaten her constructed respectability.

Ultimately, Petunia’s relationship with Marge highlights the fragility of her middle-class aspirations. Marge’s confidence and rejection of societal judgment starkly contrast with Petunia’s anxious performance of refinement (exposing the futility of her efforts to maintain control). Petunia’s silence, her meticulous hosting, and her complicity in Marge’s cruelty all reflect the deep insecurities that define her character. Beneath the brittle facade of china cups and polished floors lies a woman desperate to preserve a respectability that remains forever out of reach.

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To finish off this mini series of Halloween Doodles: 🎃The Marauders🎃

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Oh my god!!!! I cannot believe Vanilla Ice Cream got chosen! Thank you @jilytoberfest 😱❤️🫶

Jily Bingo - G/T rated fics

Another year, another Jily Bingo! Tuck into your favourite favourite blankets, and grab your favourite drinks because it’s time for the reading marathon weekend!

To participate, read the fics and post the completed bingo before 14th October, 11:59 PM and tag us!

As always, leave comments and kudos on the fics as proof that you have read it and to appreciate the authors :) It is not necessary to re read the fic if you have already read it, left a kudos and commented before!

i'll marry you after this by @myuntoldstory

Love is in the Hair by @drearymondays-05

KAPOW! by @ghostofbambifanfiction

Heart Transfiguration by @siriuslychessi

The Muggle Way by @vyntagewrites

I Want Your Midnights by the_casual_author

Definitely Not by @celestemagnoliathewriter

a day like any other by @emeralddoeadeer

Mistle-Wow by @livelaughlovetoread

A Cashmere Christmas Miracle by @oyprongs

pillar of pride by @sunshinemarauder

Front Page Material by @annasghosts

Another by @joyseuphoria

basic maths by @gigglesandfreckles-hp

Vanilla Ice Cream by @theatrescribbles

after O.W.L.s by @juniperpyre

I might just love you 'til the end by @ncoincidences

Abnormal by @ohmygodshesinsane

when it counted by @cascader

Ephemeral by @forgottenweasley

Only Human by @practicecourts

The One I Love by @writtenonreceipts

one last by apalapucian

Murder on the Dancefloor by @possessingtheproperspirit

Her Eyes by @rose-of-the-grave

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🧷Tonks🧷

I couldn’t help myself. I really really really wanted to do a redraw of Tonks, because she is such a fun character! I love how cool and kind she is, yet clumsy. She’s well -meaning and loyal and free of judgement. A true Hufflepunk 🎀👌🏻

I just love her. And now I want to dye my hair purple🔮👀

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Beautiful

Technically 1 day late, but it has been a year since I posted this little microfic xx @jilymicrofics

Words: 679

Partly inspired by the song "Beautiful" from the musical Everybody's Talking About Jamie.

Lily Evans did not consider herself beautiful. A certain Gryffindor thinks otherwise...

Read on A03

Lily Evans did not consider herself beautiful.

She was definitely not the worldly sense of beautiful anyway. Not like the models in Witch Weekly. Not like Amelia Fawley who looked like a bloody nymph with her sleek blonde hair and perfect cheekbones. Or even (she hated saying this), like some of the Slytherin girls, who hold this dark, mysterious beauty. No, Lily Evans in no way compared to them.

If there was a word she would have used, it wouldn’t have been ugly, not at first. Just plain. Ordinary. Nothing special.

She was no twig. She had curves, but they made her feel stocky in some places.

“That just means,” her Mum used to say, “That there’s more of you to cuddle!” before attacking her with bear hugs, tickling her until Lily begged her to stop, as she cried giggling and her cheeks hurt from smiling.

But her Mum wasn’t around anymore was she.

Lily’s weight went on her tummy or her thighs. Catch her after a Hogwarts Feast, or put her in a too-tight outfit, and she could look 5 months pregnant. “I have SUCH a food-baby!” she would complain to Mary and Marlene afterwards, laughing back to the Common Room; only after her friends went to bed, did she let the smile slip.

She could swear one boob was bigger than the other.

Petunia called all her freckles “a mud splatter”. She was probably right.

Lily liked the colour of her eyes, but not the shape. They belonged on a cat, not a human.

Though she would never dream of dying her hair, it being the same shade and thickness as her Mum had, she did sometimes wish it was a colour that didn’t make her stand out so much.

Put this all together and….

Oh, who was she kidding. As soon as she got to Hogwarts, it was made plain to her that she was the ugly Mudblood Gryffindor girl. It was stupid to dare to think anything else.

Eventually, Lily learnt to put everything into her studies. She never wanted to be the school supermodel anyway. There was and is so much to learn about magic. Who cares about being the prettiest girl in school when there were more important things for a Muggle-born to worry about…

And as long as she never let them see her cry….

“Lily? Did you hear me?”

Lily blinked. Her friend was standing in front of her in the corridor with a quizzical expression on his face. In any other circumstance, she’d be laughing at his look, but not this time. And she couldn’t figure out why. How long had she been in her own world...?

“Err… no… sorry, spaced out… what?”

James Potter let out a low chuckle. He always sounded so happy, Lily thought. While she tried to keep her head down, he was the complete opposite. He was outward in every way, attracted people to him like a moth to a flame. Or like the Sun.

Lily realised, as she became friends with James, just how thoughtful a person he was. How special a friend he had become to her. He wasn’t bad to look at, but that didn’t have anything to do with it… Nope, nothing at all. Not his tanned skin, not his hazel eyes, not his athletic build, not his messy mop of hair she had to restrain herself not to touch 24/7…

No, that wasn’t it at all?

It was just… in among the grey of all the slurs, and the homework, and the worrying dread of war just outside the castle doors; he’d become a little bit of glitter.

He reached out to cup her face; and then, to Lily’s surprise, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. It was so tender and light, but it burned her. She hoped it would leave a mark. Where it touched not just her skin, but also her soul.

Stop staring you idiot, Lily chastised herself, but it was impossible to tear away from his face.

James beamed down at her.

“You’re beautiful”

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Marigold || Chapter 23 - Epilogue

It's the final chapter!!!!!!!!!!

Marigold has been a joy to get to know; it seemed only fair she gets the last word in her story.

Read Chapter 23 on A03

Start from the beginning

James Potter, 26 year old Bachelor, wants to be one thing more than anything else: a father. Therefore, he decides to give foster parenting a shot. He then meets a little girl, who is set to change his life forever.

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Cinderella marries the Prince, part 1/2

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Marigold || Chapter 22 - La Mariposa

“Are you ready?” she asked. He nodded. 

“Marigold,” he called, “Could you come into the sitting room please?” 

Marigold entered with an air of trepidation. “You’re not in trouble,” James assured her, “But there is something, now that Lily is back home, that we need to talk about.”

Read Chapter 22 on A03

Start from the beginning

James Potter, 26 year old Bachelor, wants to be one thing more than anything else: a father. Therefore, he decides to give foster parenting a shot. He then meets a little girl, who is set to change his life forever.

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🏵️Marigold snippet🏵️

Hi everyone! I wanted to let you know the final two chapters in Marigold's story are coming together, but they're just slow - I'm not the best at conclusions anyway, add in a hectic couple of weeks and oof!

However, here's a little crumb to feed you with :)

It was a Saturday, and while James had the luxury of not having to work, Lily did not. She had promised herself that she was going back to work after the funeral, no less because she knew Kayleigh and Mary well enough to know that they must be exhausted.

“I should be home for 6.30 latest, maybe before,” she said, wrapping her arms around James’ neck. 

“That’s perfect,” he said, giving her a peck, “Any preference for tea?” 

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” Lily whispered, “If Marigold wanted a film night?” 

“Roger that,”

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Lily and little Harry!

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Marigold || Chapter 21 - The Letters

James froze. What had he just read? What had he just read? Out of all the scenarios that could have played out once he parked his car in Violet’s drive, he was not expecting to find a letter from his mother.

Read Chapter 21 on A03

Start from the beginning

James Potter, 26 year old Bachelor, wants to be one thing more than anything else: a father. Therefore, he decides to give foster parenting a shot. He then meets a little girl, who is set to change his life forever.

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@jilymicrofics A My Lady Jane AU for Jily in august - elegant, bride, knight, royalty, soulmate

“I didn’t ask to be his bride, Petunia.” Lily wanted to tear her hair out its elegant crown-braid, half out of frustration, half to piss her sister off further. “Just because I’m going through with this doesn’t mean I want to be stuck in a loveless marriage with some doddering old fool I’ve never even met before.”

She stood before a large mirror, edges gilded a brown that once used to be gold, in a floor length wedding dress. If she held any care for the day itself, she’d notice the gown was rather stunning, a similar fashion to the royal wedding gown from last season. Instead, she was spending the morning of her wedding like any other day growing up with her darling dear sister – arguing.

“You could at least try to appreciate the effort Vernon’s parents put into securing this match for you,” Petunia returned with venom. “You’re nearly five and twenty summers old, Lily. You’re practically a spinster. After Mother died last year, you weren’t able to secure any prospects for yourself. Without Vernon stepping in, who knows what state you'd be in a year’s time from now.”

Anywhere but here sounded absolutely lovely to Lily at the moment, but she refrained from antagonizing Petunia anymore.

Lily sighed and turned away from the mirror. She waved off the handmaiden who stepped out of the shadows to help her down from the platform the tailor had her stand on for the final fitting of the gown. 

Stepping closer to her sister, Lily said softly, “Understand that I am only doing this for the sake of my inheritance. If this stupid clause had not been in the will, I would have taken the money and left for Paris the minute I could get my hands on it.”

Petunia smirked. “Would you have waited for a knight in shining armor to come along before you got married then? Someone who was, perhaps, your soulmate?”

Some childish part of Lily was stung, hearing the dreams she’d once whispered to Petunia under the covers of darkness in their childhood bedroom thrown back in her face so mockingly.

But her sister was not wrong. As stupid as it sounded, Lily had spent her entire life dreaming of a love that felt like an adventure, rather than one built and bred in the stuffy castles and manors they had grown up in. It was the dream that Paris had held, and the hope that had shattered the day their parents will was announced in full.

Neither child would gain access to their portion of the (significantly large) inheritance until after they were married. And they had to be married before the age of twenty-five.

Hence the stalemate the Lily found herself locked in – a marriage to one James Potter in return for her inheritance. She’d wait the minimum period out, call for a divorce, and finally – finally – leave this place for good.

The double doors at the far end of the room burst open before she could reply. It was the Butler.

“My ladies,” he bowed deep, “it is time. The ceremony will begin shortly, and your presence in required in the garden.”

“Well then,” Petunia said. “Off we go, before you change your mind and embarrass our family again.”

Clenching her jaw, Lily followed Petunia out of the room.

–

James ran a finger along his collar in an attempt to find respite from the sweltering heat of the garden. He failed remarkably, but it was yet to be seen whether it was really the summer heat or the prospect of what was to come that was making him sweat.

Sirius Black, his best man and best mate, heard his annoyed huff and chuckled. “Heat of the moment getting to you, Prongsie?”

James ignored the taunt and focused on straightening his cuff links.

While he’d always known the day was coming, he hadn’t quite let himself wonder what it would be like. He’s never been one for stage fright, but they don’t really prepare you to stand in front of a crowd of two hundred-odd nobles and minor royalty to say the most damning two words of your life.

And damning they were, because whoever this Lily Evans was, he doubted she was any match for the girl he’d been eyeing up at the pub last night when out celebrating the last of his bachelorhood with his mates. Or the girl from the week before, her raven hair spread like ink on his bedspread, her moans like ecstasy in his ears. Or even–

The band began its tune, and the guests shuffled to their feet. He shared a final glance with Sirius. It was time.

First came the sister (he thought it was the sister at least), in a gown of deep scarlet with her arm looped around Vernon’s.

Sirius coughed something that sounded like that slug beside him, and James could only agree.

It was when he saw the white gown brushing the navy carpet that James looked at his parents. His mother met his gaze, a grave look on her face.

They couldn’t screw this up, she was trying to say. This was the last chance they had to fix things, their last attempt to root the problem out before it came back to destroy his entire family.

Sirius inhaled sharply, causing James to finally look at his bride for the first time.

Except he’d seen her before. Nine hours before, to be precise, in a badly lit pub, with a glass of ale in his hands and the golden daze of drink highlighting the arch of her eyebrows, her delicate collarbones.

Lily Evans was, in fact, the very girl he’d been flirting with last night.

Judging by the shock that stole across her face and the slightest pause in her steps, his identity was news to her too.

Suddenly everything that had seemed too daunting and painful about this marriage didn’t seem as bleak.

–

Oh, thought Lily. Oh, fuck.

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Marigold || Chapter 20 - Children & Art

“Padfoot?” 

“Prongs, it’s Mum. You-you need to get down here now.”

“What? She was fine when I left-”

“I know James, but… she’s deteriorated rapidly. They’re not sure how long she has left.”

A strangled sound came out of his mouth. 

“James? Are you still with me?” 

“Yeah. I’m coming back now. 20 minutes tops. Please tell her I’m coming.”

“I will.”

That was the night that he shattered. 

Read Chapter 20 on A03

Start from the beginning

James Potter, 26 year old Bachelor, wants to be one thing more than anything else: a father. Therefore, he decides to give foster parenting a shot. He then meets a little girl, who is set to change his life forever.

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We.love.70s.Jily

Artists: @shebsart

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Chapter 31: Camp

Snippet:

"Until the end."

Or, Read from Chapter 1

@jilymicrofics