a/n: this is dedicated to tina because i love her and she deserves a man like james and all the domestic bliss her little heart desires
key twists in the lock and then you’re pushing the front door open, hand gripping at the doorway when you sway on your feet. with a whine, you rub at your eyes, making good work of smearing your eye makeup all over the place.
“angel?” is that james coming down the hall? why is there two of him? “angel!”
SUMMARY: You finally start to hang out with your brother’s friends to which you never had the opportunity to do before but what happens when you start to work with them and your brother? Especially when one specific boy is starting to show interest in you?
Another part is out and I cannot wait for January and February. I am about to take you on such a wild ride that I don’t know if you are going to love it or hate it.
A/N: ANOTHER PART! I’ve been trying to write this all day but then my best friend called me and then my uncle came and then my sister wanted attention but I am determined to finish this today and so I did. Even though I want to be on Youtube. IMMA FINISH THIS!AND I DID!
XX
December brought so much excitement into your life. Suddenly, you started working with your brother in one of the Ministry’s facilities and there were always two of the administrators that worked the job together. You started working with most of your brother’s friends and it was so much fun because you started to taste his world for once. Of course, you had your own world still but that was slowly starting to fade away as you got lost in your brother’s world.
And it wasn’t only Remus you started to get close to, it was a boy you never thought you’d become close to.
James was driving you from your work and the two of you were laughing and talking in that car like you had known each other forever.
“Oh, fuck!” he cursed all of a sudden. “I forgot something at home.” he looked at you apologetically. “Do you mind if we take a turn back?”
“No. Of course not.” you smiled through your massive headache. “They’ll just have to wait a little, won’t they?” you looked at him from the corner of your eyes and he kept the eye contact going for a while.
“Yeah. They won’t mind.” he said as he drove into his driveway. “I’d totally invite you in but I think my folks are home.” he smiled awkwardly.
“That’s fine. I can wait here.” you said non-chalantly not really noticing the little hints he was giving you all this time since your head was pulsing with pain. You quickly took a pill from your backpack and swallowed it.
He was gone for good twenty minutes and came back smelling rather fresh.
“Damn. You smell really good.” you complimented and he turned to you, smirking.
“Really?”
“You didn’t have to parfume yourself for me, you know?” you started to tease him.
“Well, if I was home alone I could easily take you up to my room.” he winked and you were a bit shocked that he started to flirt back.
“And do what exactly?” you said a bit more frightened since you haven’t, even for a moment, thought that he, James the-always-hard-working-good-perfect-boy Potter, would flirt so aggressively towards you.
“You know-” he started to look at you with a sexual gaze as he started to drive and you could feel the air between the two of you get dense and heavy. “-be in bed or I could lean you against the wall and you know…” he smirked as you widened your eyes. “Maybe I should bring you next time when I’m home alone?”
“Oh…” you said as you looked forward. “Oh.” you smiled to yourself, then back at him. “But you know- uhm James…” you started to search for certain excuses and the only one that came was the most obvious one. “I can’t- I mean, we can’t.” you started to fumble over your own words.
“Why can’t we?” he continued in his deep seducing voice, killing you with his daring gaze.
“I sort of have a rule.”
“A rule?”
“That I don’t date my brother’s friends.”
“And wouldn’t you break that one rule?” he persisted and you started to get a bit annoyed.
“No. I love my brother and it’d be less drama.” you started to speak louder and clearer.
“Oh, that’s fair.” his tone changed and his eyes averted back to the road. “I don’t want any drama either.” he smiled brightly, bringing back the air that was lost.
And you? It didn’t bring back you from the experience you just had with him but this? It seemed nothing at first but you know… sometimes the tiniest rocks create the largest landslide.
—
New Year was around the corner and your best thing was to ignore everything that has happened with James until now. You thought celebrating New Years with your brother would be the best thing that could happen because neither of you wanted to celebrate it this year.
You worked with Sirius that day and the two of you had so much fun. You had also told your brother and Sirius of what James did but you begged them both not to tell him you told them about this whole situation. You trusted them both with this little secret, mostly because they knew you don’t trust easily and keeping your trust was like keeping a treasure. You weren’t somebody to mess with and they both knew that.
“That’s just James, girly.” Sirius said as he kept swinging on his chair. “He flirts, he says some odd, dirty things but that’s just him. He sees a girl- it’s totally harmless.”
“Yeah…” you said as you kept hearing your inner thoughts telling you otherwise. “It’s just… me? I guess that really shocked me and I don’t really like him that way, you know?”
“Yeah, I can see it in your eyes.” he laughed and started throwing his stress ball in the air. “Don’t worry about it okay, lass? And to be honest I see you with somebody completely different than James.”
“Really?” you laughed and crossed your arms over your chest, raising an eyebrow. “Who?”
“I don’t know but it definitely isn’t James. I see you with someone who’s just as wild and crazy as you. Somebody with tattoos and big and muscular and I don’t know… you and James are just two completely different worlds, you know? And he’s so awkward sometimes- I mean, he’s my best friend don’t get me wrong and I recommend him to any girl but I just wouldn’t recommend him to you.”
“That’s interesting.”
“I wouldn’t recommend me either, just so you know. I’ve always seen you as my baby sister…” he put the ball on the table and looked at you with a head tilt. “… plus I have a lot of trauma.”
You laughed. “Who doesn’t nowadays?”
“You’re better than all of us, (Y/N).” he gave you the sincerest smile you had ever received from him and it gave you such a wonderful sensation of comfort. “You deserve better.”
—
Remus said something completely different when you came home.
“You, me, Sirius and James in the pub- come on (y/n), I don’t want to spend another New Years at home!” he ran around excitedly and with a wide smile on his face.
“I’m tired.” you complained and threw yourself onto his bed.
“NO!” he protested. “You are going! We are going! We are not going to stay home like little babies and come on, (y/n). Another New Years at home?” he looked at you a bit sadly and with the hard situation you two had at home, you really did sympathize with him.
“But ugh! Does James have to be there?” you groaned into the pillow. “I feel so uncomfortable when he’s around.”
“Because of that stupid conversation.” Remus waved with his hand. “Get your head out of the gutter, lil sis. Not everything is about you and your world.”
You lifted your head and glared at it. “It’s my life so it literally is all about me.”
Remus laughed and left the room, coming back shortly with a toothbrush in his mouth. “I don’t know why you’re complaining over James so much. He’s a good lad- works, is ambitious, he’s even taking extra courses for becoming an Auror AND he’s got lots of money…” he leaned down to you and squeezed your cheeks. “Which comes in handy in our family, doesn’t it.”
“You’d sell me for a penny, wouldn’t you brother?”
“Actually for a peanut but yeah a penny as well.” he winked and left the room.
“Fine!” you got back up and after him to the bathroom. “I’m going to spend New Years and I will pretend that nothing happened between James and I in his little Muggle car.”
“That’s all I’m saying, lil sis.” he said as he spat out the toothpaste. “We go, we toast, we drink, we go home.”
“Okay.” you leaned back and looked at him a bit more calmer.
“Now, will you stop be dramatic?”
“Yes.” you smiled and started to walk away. “I’m just going to get ready.”
“Okay.” Remus smiled and continued to brush his teeth and just as he started to floss, he remembered something. “Oh and (y/n)!” he shouted over.
“Yeah?!” you shouted back.
“I forgot to tell you that you’re working with James tomorrow morning!”
SUMMARY: You finally start to hang out with your brother’s friends to which you never had the opportunity to do before but what happens when you start to work with them and your brother? Especially when one specific boy is starting to show interest in you?
A/N: I really wanted to write this for such a long time but I always avoided it. I feel like I have the time and the motivation to start writing it again. I don’t know what has been happening to me lately that I haven’t written anything in so long but here I am. Back. And I’m going to write this series in months instead of parts.
PAIRING: James Potter x reader
XX
It wasn’t easy being twenty-one but it sure was not boring either. You had been running from one place to another, one person to the next and finally coming home and collapsing on the bed.
Social butterfly… or something.
“Bloody hell, (y/n). It’s getting real annoying when all you do is run around all day and come home and just go to your room like there aren’t things to be done in this house.” your brother burst in your room.
“I am a twenty-one year old woman, Remmy.” you lifted your hand from your side. “I am either at work or in the gym or here- I might as well go out and have some fun, now that my job has finally let me two weeks off.”
You could hear him chuckle. “Alright twenty-year old woman. Go get dressed if you want to go out with me and some of my friends.” he threw a coat towards you and left.
You groaned into your pillow, got up and with your coat in your hand, you left with him.
—
You knew some of Remus’ friends. The ones he usually hangs out with and constantly talks about but you never took any interest in them before. Years later, even afer Hogwarts, you started to become more full of life and joy to be around new people.
You walked in front of Remus- with you head held high and a bright smile on your face you saw James sitting curled up in his chair. He had a black coat on and a beanie that let his front hair press on his forehead. His cheeks were all rosy from the cold and he had not wore his glasses.
You didn’t hug him or shook his hand, you only smiled brightly. “Oi!” you spoke loudly until his eyes caught a glimpse of yours and he smiled, his cheeks bulking up to his eyes. You sat down diagonally from him and waited for your brother to join.
“Hey.” he smiled just as brightly but didn’t say anything less.
James and you never really knew each other, despite your brother being his best friend. You remember seeing him back in Hogwarts but since he was out, not so much. Not even with Remus. Remus, Sirius and James had all been over-working themselves all summer and fall, going into winter. Most of them all, James was the one that was always more into work than the rest. He also started some further classes in the Dark Arts that are necessary for becoming a full time Auror, meanwhile Remus and Sirius had both been close to finishing those. Remus was in the lead, of course.
Now James and Remus continued to talk about work, work only they knew about and you were pretty much bored during these drinks.
That was of course until Sirius Black came along.
Sirius came very quietly and he hugged you from behind. “Hey there lil sis.” he ruffled your hair and you giggled. “Where the hell were you hiding?”
“Hey you!” you smiled brightly up at him. “Well, you know. Working and working and working and working.”
“Oh, where do you work exactly again?” James asked you finally for the first time in this whole time.
“Oh, it’s in this Muggle company a town away. It’s pretty darn easy most of the time but some days it’s unbearable.”
“What do you do?” he asked as Remus and Sirius had been having their own conversation.
“Depends where they throw me. Some days I’m behind this machine where I count the pieces, some days I’m helping with cleaning the mass from those other pieces, some days I’m behind an industrial line which is the best work yet because I can do pretty much whatever I want once the line breaks down, which happens so many times in one shift.”
“And you work night shifts too?”
“Night shifts are the best of the best.” you laughed. “The adventures I had with my co-workers.” you continued to laugh as you reminisces, your eyes shining brightly as Sirius and Remus put their attention on you. “We had so much fun- always messing around and joking and sometimes after work we went to go get cheeseburgers and get high and things.” you continued. “It’s the only reason I stayed in this company but now they left and I’m thinking of leaving too.”
“You are?” Remus raised an eyebrow at you.
“Yeah. It’s not the same but I’ll find another job before I quit this one.”
“I totally support that girl!” Sirius high fived you.
And you wish you knew what was about to happen after that day but back then everything seemed so innocent and normal.
Well, maybe it was good you didn’t see it coming- everything that was about to come with the boy sitting diagonally from you and innocently drinking his tea.
Pairing:James Potter x gn!Reader - Marauders x Reader Content
Word Count: 5.9k (jdklfdh im sorry)
Warnings:Underage Drinking, Implications of… yeah. I think that’s about it.
Requested:Yes, a long time (i feel bad for only getting to it but i hope the nonnie stuck around to see this piece) by an anon who asked for James x Reader with childhood best friends to lovers trope.
Summary:In which, James Potter was busy writing himself a message on the wall but was too blind to read what he had to say.
Pictures.
In actuality they were only images. For Muggles, they stood stagnant, for James Potter they moved slightly.
But in deeper meaning pictures were moments in time captured in a frame. They were a personal reminder of things that were, things that used to be and anything else that didn’t fall into one of the other two categories.
James Potter adored pictures. His room was littered with them. A handful were of Quidditch players and Tutshill Tornados merchandise. One picture of him and his parents sat on the nightstand beside his bed. But adjourned on the wall to the left was a mostly blank wall. One small Tornados banner was pinned against the soft red paint and in the middle a picture he was particularly fond of.
The film captured James at the age of four. A broom was clutched in his left hand and a toothy smile on his face as the wind rustled his hair causing it to stick up more than it already did. Beside him was you, your eyes crossed and your tongue licking a swirled lolly.
When his mother had shown him the picture you had just left for home, making a young James quite sad that his friend couldn’t stay just a little longer. Euphemia Potter had smiled, handing the picture to her son. “It’s okay, my love. Now you have a piece of Y/N with you.”
“How?” James had asked, his lower lip jutting out in a frown.
Euphemia laughed. “The picture captures you together. Look how happy the two of you look!” she points at her son’s smile in the photo. “You can do whatever you’d like with it.”
James grinned, his eyes lighting up once more. “I want to hang it, mum!” he dragged her hand into the bedroom with him, climbing on top of his bedsheets and pressing the picture to the wall. “Here. That way I can say goodnight to them even when they’re not here.”
Euphemia Potter smiled watching as her son tucked himself under the covers. “That’s a brilliant idea, James.” With a wave of her wand, two pins fastened themself to the wall, the photo beneath.
That was the beginning of James’s love for pictures. More pictures would accumulate such as the one of him and his father at a Tornados game. Drawings you would give him of flowers and Kneazles. The pictures would come and go but yours stayed the same. An additional picture of you and James would later be added three years later when the two of you were seven. James’s broom no longer sat in one hand, instead was gripped with two and hovering five feet off the ground. He had a wicked smile on his face, his glasses slightly falling down his nose. You sat behind him, your small fingers clutching to his waist as the picture captured you mid-squeal.
Time went on yet the pictures of the two of you stayed the same. Along with your drawings, which had improved dramatically since you were seven, he’d occasionally find a Hollyhead Harpies banner plastered to his wall. When he came to scold you, pink banners adjourned in his hand, you’d laugh at the pout on his lips. He could never stay angry at you and always joined in on your laughter.
The final year before things would slightly change was the year before going to Hogwarts. A third picture was added at the age of ten. The Potter family had accompanied your family on a trip to Diagon Alley in which you had bought your screech owl, Juniper. James had one arm wrapped around you. His hair was untidy and a goofy smile was on his face as his other hand flicked your forehead. Your eyes were closed mid-laugh as one hand pushed his face away and the other perched with Juniper who screeched happily on your available arm.
Again, time went on quickly and changes were made in James Potter’s room but you were not one of them. He packed up his Hogwarts things the night of August 31st, leaving his room full of pictures with a soft smile.
You rode on the train with him, both of you waving goodbye to your loved ones. You grinned at him wickedly, “Excited?” you ask.
“Definitely.” he responded. “Do you have money for the trolley?”
You slide into a train compartment, one small boy already sitting there. “Yeah. Do you need to borrow some?”
James nodded and you rolled your eyes, handing money over to the kind witch who passed by, grabbing pumpkin pasties for you and Bertie Botts for James.
The ride was life-changing as you made acquaintances with similar mindsets. Two more boys entered your compartment and along with the scrawny boy from before, all of you made it to Gryffindor. “Where dwell the brave at heart” as James liked to put it.
First year was an interesting feat with James quickly falling head over heels for Lily Evans. Your friendship never faltered although the thought of her in his life made you feel odd. However, you were sure she wouldn’t be in his life for quite some time seeing as his persistent efforts were met with an equally stubborn rejection.
“She’s a firecracker, that one.” he sighed, walking beside you down the hall after another devastating encounter with Lily.
“You’re just embarrassing yourself now, my boy.” you reply, dubbing his nickname to ease the comment.
He smirked. “Then why do you hang out with me?”
“Because, I’m the one who makes sure you don’t cross the line from embarrassing to mortifying.”
He shakes his head with a silly grin. “I doubt that. You love me. That’s why.”
You laugh, an effective way of avoiding the curious ideas that ran through your young mind. “Don’t throw around the l- word so quickly! You’ve got to mean it.”
James bumped your side. “But I’ve known you for years.”
You ruffle his hair, making it messier than it already was. “Save it for Evans.”
—
The year ended and the two of you went home to Northern England hands overflowing with Gryffindor red, spirits high with a drive for Quidditch practice and addresses from Remus, Peter, and Sirius tucked away in your pockets.
James’s room changed tremendously that first year. Alongside the Tutshill Tornados merchandise were small Gryffindor banners, lions enchanted to roar at the touch. You had given him one of your sketches from the school year, one of Sirius and him laughing in Transfiguration, another of him and Peter skipping stones. The pictures of the two of you still remained, a small collection of dust coating the edges which he wiped away with a smile.
Second year was merry and full of high spirits. James had acquired his father’s invisibility cloak which gave cause to a number of nighttime rendezvous and adventures in the kitchens. Suspicion arose on Remus, whose monthly disappearances came to your attention. With the help of Sirius and Peter, the group soon discovered Remus’s guarded secret and accepted the furry little problem with open arms.
The Lily Evans situation did not get any better with James’s persistence holding up fiercely and her hatred toward him even more harsh. As Sirius had dubbed it, “Mate, at this point you’re never getting married.” Remus and Peter whole-heartedly agreed, sending James into an adolescent spiral.
“What if I don’t get married, Y/N/N?” he confided in you by the shores of the Black Lake.
You chuckled, his delirium quite adorable. “You’re going to get married, James. Trust me.”
He sighed, snapping a twig between his fingers. “It’s not definite.”
“Nothing is.” you counter.
James groaned. “I know. I know. But I would like it to be. Wouldn’t you?”
You contemplated the idea, a thought coming to your head. “What if it could be?”
He stared at you curiously. Your eyes lit up and James grinned. “Hit me.”
“If by the time we are thirty neither of us are married then we should get married to each other.” you propose, a proud smile on your face. “That way we can have a definite of our own.”
James grinned. “I like that idea. But what if one of us gets married before that?”
You frown. “Then I guess it’d be a flop. But it’s better than nothing, right?”
He agreed quickly. The sun was setting into a pond of pink. The wind rustled and birds chirped and the moment seemed picture perfect and James wished a camera would magically pop up and capture the moment so he’d be able to hang it on his wall for years to come. It did not work that way, instead, he turned to you with a smirk. “I don’t have anything to propose with.”
You looked down in embarrassment and gave him a shove. “We’re not getting married yet! It’s just a deal not the real thing.”
He rolled his eyes at you. “I know but it feels as though something special should happen. How about we seal with a spit swear?”
You stick your tongue out and pretend to gag. “Ew! No.” you flick his forehead causing him to wince. He grins before flicking you back, watching as you fall back onto the grass.
“I guess a flick works as well.” he sighs. “Y/N Potter has a nice ring to it.”
Your head falls against his shoulder. “I can’t believe I might be a Potter one day. Sounds disgusting.”
James laughs, the weight of your head feeling oddly familiar against his shoulder. “Oh, shut it!”
—
The years came and went. Third year, James made the Quidditch team and he quickly became a ladies man despite his obvious pining over Evans. You made sure to keep his feet on the ground as you didn’t want his ego to get larger than it already was. You came to all his games, occasionally bringing a camera so that James could add his moments of glory onto his beloved room wall. There was the time he tried dedicating a shot to you and ended up getting knocked off his broom by a Beater.
He made the next one thankfully.
On the other hand, you had earned the title of master dueler amongst the third years for your quick arm and sharp spellcasting. While James was at Quidditch practice: you, Peter, Remus, and Sirius would practice in empty classrooms although after a while they became rather bored as you would always win. James would cheer you on, even when you beat him there was a compliment of your skill and he was more than anything, proud.
The summer between third and fourth year was the year the Marauders got their first group picture together. Everyone had met up at the Potter residence, Euphemia Potter snapping the photo with Sirius and James to the left, Peter and Remus on the right, and you in the middle. James hung the picture on his wall as it was routine by now. The whole gang got to see his famous wall of pictures, his life an open storybook to anyone who looked closely.
Fourth year sparked love, pranks, and new ideas. Peter went on his first date, flaming at the cheeks as his friends waved him off embarrassingly. Group pranks ensued upon Snape whose oily hair was dyed all colors of the rainbow by the end of the first semester. You had gone on your first date as well, Steven Goldstein from Hufflepuff whom James threatened to beat up and Sirius who gave him “a talk”.
Most importantly, the group addressed Remus’s furry little problem seeing as each year he came back with more and more scars than before. Two ideas sparked up from the meeting and both were large feats that every member of the group was willing to take.
“So wait..” Peter asked. “You want to make a map… that tracks everyone in Hogwarts?”
James nodded and Remus shook his head. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Don’t look at me that way, Remus.”
Remus shoved him lightly. “How would that even work though? Isn’t it a little invasive?”
You smiled. “It most certainly is invasive but think about how awesome it’d be to have something like that. All we would need is…”
“A complex locator spell.” you and Sirius said together.
Everyone grinned. “Pete can do the drawing and sketching. He’s good at that stuff. We should check for secret passageways. All of us could do the magic. We’ve got the brains.”
“I don’t think someone with brilliant magic technique would use the word brain to describe their intelligence.” you point out. James simply flicked you in the head.
“And there’s the Animagi thing…” Sirius added.
“That’s a reach.” Remus replied.
“More than the map?” Peter questioned.
Remus sighed. “You guys don’t have to do that for me. I’ve been transforming on my own for years. No need to have buddies now.”
“Nonsense.” you say. “Anything for you, Rem. This is what you deserve.”
The friends looked at each other silently. “Are we ready to pull off the biggest student feat in Hogwarts history?” Sirius whispered.
“Aye, aye.” Everyone cheered.
Peter grinned. “We’re up to no good.”
James smiled back. “Then let us manage our mischief well.”
WIth that the group commenced, exiting the abandoned classroom they used and taking off to class. James walked by your side as you headed to astronomy together.
“I can’t wait till we pin this down. It’s going to be an epic year.” he grinned.
You chuckle. “I know you’ll end up stalking someone, Potter. Evans by the looks of it.”
He shook his head, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Nope. I’m gonna stalk you instead. See if you’re hiding any secrets from me.”
You smile. “What secrets could I possibly be hiding from you, my boy?”
James nudged your side with a smirk. “You’re telling me a good-looking fellow like yourself isn’t sneaking off with some other lad other than their best friends.”
You shook your head, the word “good-looking” repeating itself in your mind. “No. If I did I would tell you.”
“Good.” he said, starting up the stairs to the Astronomy tower. “I don’t need some arsehole stealing you away from me.”
You roll your eyes. “No one could ever steal me from you, James. I’m not a Quaffle.”
He nods with a grin. “Yeah. I suppose you’re more of a Snitch.”
You laugh, dashing up the stairs in hopes that you wouldn’t be late for your Astronomy lesson.
—
As one could guess more pictures and sketches made their home on James Potter’s wall. It was a cluttered mess but beautiful nonetheless. It was as though the wall had an expression of its own with its array of Quidditch jerseys, photographs, art, and ticket stubs. Nobody touched the wall except James as he liked having every picture in place. His wall organized the way he liked it best… messy.
Fifth year was the first year you didn’t see James every week. He had eagerly signed up for Quidditch camp and had left for Wales with promises that’d you write about the boys and the progress on the map and Animagi projects. The projects went well with Peter completing the outline sketches of the maps, Remus filling piles of papers on Animagi transformations and finally Sirius and you gathering the needed ingredients for the Animagi process.
You had grown taller over the summer, hair lightening and your features more accentuated. Eagerly you awaited James’s return and when the time did come you had woken up early in the morning to see him arrive by Portkey on the hill. The second he appeared you had rushed over, engulfing him in a hug. You had missed his touch, his constant nagging and overall the James Potterness that followed him around that would never fade with time.
Meanwhile, he was left out of breath, a couple of inches taller and a smile on his face as he squeezed you back. “Y/N/N! I missed you, you lazy hag.”
You laughed, messing up his hair that sat more neatly than in previous years. “And I missed you, my boy.”
The next days before school were spent catching him up on the map and at the pond by your house. With each swim you noticed the changes in James such as the six-pack the tedious trials at Quidditch camp had given him.
“Oi!” you shouted, splashing him in the face. “Whatever happened to the skinny twig that was my friend?”
He smirked. “Oi! Why are you looking?”
You bit your lip, not allowing him to see you flustered. “I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and it’s a very noticeable change!” you pointed at his toned stomach.
James tapped your nose and you stared at him in annoyance. “It’s only noticeable if you want to notice it.”
He turned around, making to walk back to the shore of the pond. You didn’t remember when James had gotten so cheeky although he’d always been that way, just never with you. Wickedly, you took the bucket that floated beside you and dunked it in the water. With a mischievous grin, you snuck up behind him, dumping the bucket of water on his head.
James turned around with a gasp, jaw dropped. You laughed, a wide smile on your lips at the sight of him drenched in his swim trunks. It wasn’t until his arms tucked along your waist, dragging you to the deeper ends of the pond did the smile drop and his return.
“Why you little…” you seethed. “James Fleamont Potter if you-”
It was too late by then, your body submerged in the water and you swam up, his laughter the first noticeable sound. You scowled as he doubled over with laughter on the shore. “I’m never letting you go to Quidditch camp again.”
The two of you walked home as the sun set, many flicks to the forehead ensuing as you did.
—
Fifth year was by far the most epic year of your Hogwarts experience. Everything was prepared for the Animagi transformation and phase two of the map project was ready to launch with Remus having gained access to the restricted section of the library.
It seemed as though the whole student body had recognized the change in James’s physique which only led to an inflation of his ego. The worst part was that Lily Evans just so happened to be one of those said noticers and while her defiance toward him was still strong, she could be caught staring in class much to James’s delight.
The Animagi process began as soon as the September full moon. While Remus suffered in the Shrieking Shack, the four other Marauders set their Mandrake leaves into their mouths preparing for an uncomfortable month of bitterness on their tongues. The leaves were held under their tongues when talking in class and for the rest of the time they resorted to note passing leaving the entirety of Hogwarts wondering why the Marauders went quiet so suddenly.
During the period between moons, they worked on their map. Stacks of books, both regular and restricted, lay among them. Each had a quill and parchment used to take note of spells or pass messages back and forth. As you worked you received a message from James in the form of a crumpled ball of parchment. You smoothed it out with a sigh.
I hate this thing. It tastes like piss and lime.
You held back a chuckle, writing your own message next to his.
You’re not backing out of this, Potter. It’s for Remus.
He stuck the leaf under his tongue in order to stick it out at you and you rolled your eyes. He scribbled a message back.
I know. I know. Doesn’t mean I can’t complain about it.
You smirked, tossing the parchment back to him.
If your scrawny arse can come back from Quidditch camp with abs then you can stomach keeping a leaf in your mouth for a month.
He smoothed it out and you went back to your work only getting in a minute’s reading before the parchment bounced off your head. You scowled at his antics but he only looked at his book with a smirk. Unfolding the paper, James’s messy handwriting took up the last blank space on the parchment.
Nice to know you still think about my abs.
Your stomach squirmed at the feeling that inflamed from his words and the smirk that was on his face. You flicked him on the head, throwing the parchment into the fire before Sirius could ask what it was.
—
It took moon soaked leaves, untouched morning dew and a lightning storm to finally complete the transformations. It was on a late November night that a lightning storm finally struck and in the fifth corridor bathroom the Marauders made their first transformations. For Peter, a small rat with a wriggling tail. For Sirius, a pure black dog. For James, a large stag with mighty horns. For you, a sly fox with sleek orange fur.
Thus that night began the use of the nicknames: Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Dubbed by James and agreed upon all around. The final full moons of fifth year were spent prancing around Hogsmeade alongside Remus whose scars diminished with each transformation spent with his friends.
The downside of it all was the building tension in the school. With Lord Voldemort on the rise, more and more of your classmates were showing their true colors. Select Slytherins no longer wore short sleeves, their wrists always covered even in the heat of summer. Watchful eyes and protective glares, you went home for summer in worry.
Over the summer, Prongs lost his Pronginess. He wrote to Lily Evans most days of the week and now the things she sent him hung on his wall alongside you and the Marauders. An anticipated change but a scary one still. Every outing with James became more about Lily and less about anything else. You could feel your best friend slipping away and you told him so the night before the start of sixth year.
The two of you sat together in the branches of a tree. The sun hit your skin in rays and clouds passed by over your heads. James’s voice droned on about his darling Lily flower and with an unknowing malice you snapped at him. “Shut it!” you groaned.
His eyes looked over at you, hands holding your head in remorse. “Aren’t you happy for me? You’ve been acting off all summer.”
“I’ve been acting off because you’ve been acting off. I am happy for you but Evans is the only thing you talk about these days. What happened to talking about the Tornados or sneaking out together for milkshakes?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s different now.”
“Well, it shouldn’t be.” you exclaim. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t grow up. I support the idea of you no longer being a cheeky bastard. If you’re happy with Evans then I am happy for you. But being with Evans doesn’t mean you have to forget about me or the Marauders or everything else.”
James nodded, a leaf spinning between his fingers as he frowned. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N.”
You shake your head. “I am too. Sorry I snapped at you, my boy.” your head fell onto his shoulder the same way it had done for years only this time things had changed. The weight still felt perfect on his shoulder but now his stomach turned and his breath hitched at the close proximity. Things were indeed changing although the two of you only danced around it, not wanting to address the mess you two had made.
Your head was still against his shoulder as you spoke quietly. “Just remember you’re not a Quaffle.”
He chuckled, stroking your hair affectionately. “I guess I’ll be the snitch then.”
You smiled, swimming in the feel of the James Potter you knew so well. Later that night, the two of you snuck out like old times, sharing a chocolate milkshake and sending each other glances the whole way home.
—
Sixth year was a rollercoaster. The map was finished, all the efforts poured out finally receiving an equally impressive outcome with the parchment branded with the names of the Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, Prongs and Vixen. Remus had his first kiss and Sirius decided on leaving home and James welcomed him with open arms.
The other Marauders were not impartial to the changes in your and James’s behavior. The miniscule changes in his face when you napped on his lap or the flush of your skin when he rustled your hair. In all honesty, it was as though the two of you were finally waking up and seeing what they’d been seeing all along. However, your own defiance was strong and love wasn’t simple. James was still under the impression that his heart beat for Lily Evans and you flirted around your feelings as opposed to finally confronting them.
When Gryffindor won the Quidditch season, you were the first one in James’s arms to congratulate him. He spun you around, a large grin on his face. “We won!”
You smiled. “That you did, my boy. Celebration calls and are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
He tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. “Hmm? Let me guess… Firewhiskey?”
“That’s my boy.” you cheer, linking your arm in his and dragging him off the field as Lily Evans watched the boy she had taken a chance on run off with someone else.
—
Firewhiskey made for a fine celebration and resulted in James and you collapsed on the floor of the Gryffindor common room at two in the morning. His glasses were crooked as he stared up at the ceiling and your hair fell in waves on the floorboards.
“Blimey, I can’t believe we won.” James chuckled, his words slurring together slightly.
“You deserve it, my boy.” you say, lightly punching his arm. “How are you feeling on this fine evening?”
His cheeks went pink but a smile overtook his features making for a hilarious expression when he shouted out. “Randy!”
You doubled over with laughter. “Gosh, James. I don’t need to hear about this.” you shove his grinning face with your palm.
“What, you’ve never felt randy before?” he asked, a childlike expression on his face juxtaposing such an intrusive question.
You hide your embarrassment behind a grin. “Yes, but I’m not going around telling you about it.”
He tapped your nose with the tip of his finger and your stomach swirled. “And why not?”
You turned over to your side. “I’m not sure best friends tell each other about being randy, Prongs.”
James sighed. “I guess not. But how are you feeling, my little vixen?”
With a swig of your drink and a grin you reply. “Randy.”
The two of you erupt into fits of laughter. James pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I suppose it’s the whiskey then.”
You stare up at the ceiling. “Yeah, I suppose so.”
Both of you knew that wasn’t the case. You knew that despite the whiskey slowing the gears of your mind you still noticed James’s hand laying by your waist. You could still trace the outline of his chin and the bridge of his nose. James could still see the curve of your lips and the rise of your chest. Firewhiskey was most definitely not the cause of your randiness.
But it was the easiest thing to blame.
—
Your birthday came soon after with the Marauders celebrating in joy. Presents were exchanged with Remus giving you some books, Peter knitted (with the help of his mother) a pair of mittens for you and Sirius had gifted you a record to play on your stereo.
But James had to be extravagant. It wasn’t everyday his best friend turned seventeen and he marked the occasion with something expensive yet meaningful. When you opened the small box inside had been a silver fox ring. It’s eyes sparkling gems that twinkled as if blinking.
“James, I’m going to kill you.” you seethed. “This is way too expensive. I’m turning seventeen not fifty.”
He laughed. “Oi, woman! It’s fine. Nothing I couldn’t handle. Besides, only the best for you.”
You stared at it once more before engulfing him in a hug. “It’s beautiful, my boy. Thank you.”
His arms squeezed your waist, breathing you in and remembering the sweet smells of childhood and friendship rolled into one. His eyes closed and it was as if he had drifted off into a pleasant dream. “Of course, my little vixen.”
You made certain to flick his head after.
He was starting to regret giving it to you already.
—
Sixth year came to a close with an even more devastating end than the last. The war only continued to rage with Muggles being murdered miles away from the school, Muggle-borns driving into hiding. Sirius’s brother was slowly falling into line with the other Slytherins, devoting their hours to the torture of Muggleborns, Lord Voldemort and the likes.
James left Hogwarts heart-broken when Lily Evans broke up with him on the last day of term. “Look around!” Lily had told him. “You’re blind, James. I’m not the person you want and it’d be clear if you’d stop and take a look.”
He hadn’t known what she meant and the first week of summer was spent crying and eating ice cream on the sofa with you by his side. His room had become a mess and Lily’s letters no longer remained on the wall instead crumbled up in a ball in the trash.
Euphemia Potter couldn’t dread to see her son in the dumps any longer and she made sure to tell him so one evening after you had left.
“James, you need to get your life together, my love.” she whispered, rubbing her sons back reassuringly.
His words came out muffled into her neck. “It’s hard.”
“I know.” she soothed. “And I’m always going to be there for you.”
“Promise?” he asked.
“Promise.” she smiled. “Now how about you go clean your room. It’s become quite dirty.”
He nodded, trudging to his room with a broom. Lily’s words repeated in his mind as he entered. “You’re blind, James. Look around!” But there was nothing to look for. All he saw was his wall and a soft smile came to his face as he approached it. The Tutshill Tornado banners clung loosely to the paint and drawings of Kneazles and landscapes and trees. Pictures of the Marauders and Gryffindor lions.
And finally the ones of you.
His fingers ran across the picture in the middle. Four-year old James grinning and you licking a lolly. His eyes moved to the next one, seven years old and flying together on a broomstick. A grin broke out on his face as he saw the one with your owl in Diagon Alley, his fingers flicking your forehead. James’s mind was on hyperdrive as he examined each picture, one common factor in almost all of them.
You.
You were in many of the photos, a smile adorned on your face. If you weren’t in the photos you were the one taking them, knowing how much he adored them. Any pictures that hung were sketched by your hands. Here was James Potter’s open story, the story of his life all plastered to the wall as though it was an empty canvas. Present in every moment, every aspect, had been you. You had been the start of his book, the picture of the two of you as tots still smacked in the middle of the wall. Yes, he realized. You had started his book and had remained in it for quite some time.
Lily Evans must’ve noticed and maybe everyone else had too.
James had been blind to the message that was sprawled across his wall. He had been the one writing it, maybe not knowingly but writing it out all the same. Everyone had seen it except the writer and his subject, the message painstakingly clear years prior to its conception.
He quickly removed all the pictures from the wall, grabbing each one that hung and piling them up in his hand. The door swung open as he dashed out of his room yelling, “I’ve got to go, mum!” before running out the front door. The hills of green were illuminated by the night sky, the stars burned for James as he hopped over branches and boulders to get to you.
Your house was in the distance, your figure standing a few feet away from the home. He called out to you, your eyes turned to meet his. When he reached you, he paused, catching his breath.
“James, what on Earth are you doing here?” you laugh, placing a hand on his shoulder as he breathed.
He stood up straight, panting as he held up a photo. “This is us when we were four. The first photo we ever took together.”
You squinted at him. “Right?”
He shuffled through the pictures, fingers tracing each one. “And this is from when we were seven. That one from when we were ten. You gave me this drawing when we were six because you loved Kneazles and wanted one as a pet. That drawing was from the first year when we went skipping stones at the Black Lake and you sketched me and Peter.”
Your face melts slowly. “James, I don’t understand. You’ve had these for years.”
He exhaled, his eyes lighting up. “That’s the thing. I never saw it till now but Lily said I was blind and that she wasn’t the person I wanted.” You nod, wiping the sweat from his forehead with your sleeve and he grinned. “See that right there. That’s what I want.”
The night air bit at your spine. “You want me to wipe the sweat from your forehead?”
He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “Not exactly. I want you to wipe the sweat from my forehead for the next year and the next ten and then the next fifty. You’ve been doing it for years already and the thing is… I don’t think I want anyone else doing it for me.”
You blinked as he came closer, his palms cradling your cheek as you gazed into his eyes. “You’ve been in my life for as long as I could remember and I want you to stay in it for as long as I live. You told me once to not throw around the l-word and I said…”
“But I’ve known you my whole life.” you mutter.
“I think I’ve loved you for a while. I just didn’t know it yet.”
You shook your head as the wind rustled the branches, the windchime on your porch creating soft melodies. A large grin spread across your lips yet you continued to shake your head. “There’s a war, James.”
He smiled. “Only more the reason to be with me.”
“But I’ve been with you my whole life.” you tease.
“Oh, shut up!” he chuckles, before leaning down to capture your lips. At that moment everything made sense. All the pieces of the puzzle sifted into place and the stars applauded you from the sky and the night gale created a ruckus at your shed blindfold.
“Be my Snitch?” he asked.
You rolled your eyes, “That’s the cringiest thing you’ve ever said, my boy.”
He smirked. “Oh, but you love it.”
“Perhaps I do.” you replied, flicking his forehead for good measure.
—
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She stood abruptly. The clinks and clatters of silverware hitting plates echoed. The sixth-year Gryffindor stood tall at the side of the table, towering over the rest of the sitting family. The younger boy beside her shrunk in size, watching with terrified grey eyes. The boy across from her watched with determination and a smirk across his lips. The parents at each end of the table stared with distaste.
“You won’t lay a finger or a wand on Regulus.” Y/n said lowly, and Walburga smirked, placing her wine glass on the white table cover, “And who are you to tell me what to do?”
Walburga rose from her seat slowly, both hands on the table, “You’re just the disappointment of the family. The mistake.” She spat, “You are the last person who should be giving an order.”
“Leave her alone!” Sirius exclaimed, “Y/n did nothing, and you know it.”
Orion quirked an eyebrow, “Don’t act like we don’t hear your conversations in your bedroom, Sirius. Y/n here is dating that Potter boy.”
“She is?” Walburga chuckled, “Why, dear, continue to add to your list of mistakes.”
“This isn’t about me.” Y/n growled, “This is about Regulus, and so help me if I hear another word of you turning him into a death eater, I’ll go to Azkaban myself for your deaths.”
Regulus placed a soft hand on hers that laid on the white tablecloth, “Please….”
“I will take my wand,” Y/n continued, “and I will stick it to your throat. Maybe I’ll even do the crucio curse on you a few times so that you can understand what we went through as kids. But it’ll always end the same, with your dead bodies laying on the floor.”
Walburga whipped out her wand, muttering a silent spell Y/n froze, “We’ll see who’ll be giving out the unforgivables, dear.”
Sirius jumped from the table and ran in front of his sister before his mother could perform another spell. Regulus wanted to cry. Why were they going through all of this for him? It didn’t seem fair. Y/n had just blatantly threatened their parents with their deaths, and yet both brothers felt a sense of - what was it - pride? Was that bad of them? They shouldn’t be feeling this way.
“Don’t touch her.” Sirius seethed, “She’s unarmed and paralyzed. That would be low of you.”
“Since when do I care how low I go?” Walburga replied, glancing at Orion; his wand went to Regulus’s neck.
Sirius was panicking, “Take her and yourself up to your bedroom; otherwise, Regulus will feel much more than despair.”
He swallowed but obeyed his mother’s order. Carefully he scooped Y/n into his arms and walked up the multitude of steps. When he entered the bedroom, the door closed behind him immediately, and a click was heard. The door had been locked, and Sirius sighed. He laid Y/n down on his bed. It wasn’t until the following morning that the spell wore off.
Y/n rubbed her eyes and stretched her stiff limbs. It was early in the morning, and the sun was barely rising. Sirius was drawing in a sketchbook Remus had given him. She longed for fresh air, but the window was locked after they attempted to escape back in fourth year. Sirius’ head snapped up at the noise of her yawning.
“Morning, sis.”
“Morning, Siri.”
He hesitated, “How’re you feeling?”
“Stiff.” Y/n continued to stretch her arms, “But nothing I haven’t gone through before.”
Sirius smiled, “Quidditch has helped, hasn’t it?”
“Being the best Gryffindor Seeker takes work.”
Silence filled the room like greeting an old friend, seamless, calm, and straightforward. The Blacks were always well acquainted with silence, the twins more so. After being sorted into Gryffindor, they had to be. Sirius went back to sketching his book. The quill hit the parchment with a soothing scratching noise that Y/n adored so much.
If Y/n closed her eyes, she could remember being in the library with James for the first time. She could remember how messy his hair looked, how he tucked his teeth into his plush bottom lip, how his hands held the quill and wrote smoothly across the parchment, how his cheeks flushed a brilliant magenta when he caught her staring at him, how his hazel eyes glittered with mischief but admiration at the same time.
“Thinking about him again?” Sirius broke her out of her wistful reverie, “I haven’t gotten in contact with him over the mirror before you ask.”
Y/n shook her head, “I wasn’t gonna ask that. I just hope they don’t hurt him.”
“They won’t.” Sirius assured, “James is well protected between Euphemia and Fleamont. He’ll be fine.”
“What about Rem?”
“What about him?”
Y/n gave him a look, “Don’t act like I don’t know. I know you better than myself.”
“I trust Moony.” Sirius blushed, “Nobody knows other than you and James, not even Peter. I won’t let those bastards get ten feet from him.”
Y/n stood up from Sirius’ bed and sat beside him on the floor. Their backs against the wallpaper-covered canvas. Her head lay on his bony shoulder, and he wrapped a skinny arm around her shoulders. Y/n looked in his sketchbook. He was sketching the five of them together at the Black Lake. It was beautiful.
James was laying on the ground, golden snitch flying above him - the snitch being the first one Y/n caught. Remus against a tree mere feet away from James reading a book, Sirius under his arm, not unlike how the siblings were sitting at present. Peter and Y/n engaged in what appeared to be a challenging chess game. The lake was sketched with ripples and sparkles. Remus had almost every scar visible - it wasn’t hard for Sirius to study him but lacked studying any subject.
Y/n had thought about what it would like in color. The pear-colored grass, the sapphire sky, and the cotton-like clouds. Sirius’ alabaster skin, dark chocolate hair, and slate eyes. James’ walnut-colored hair with caramel highlights, tanned skin, and vale eyes. Remus’ sandy blond hair, olive eyes, and beige scarred skin. Peters peach skin, his buttermilk-colored hair, and arctic eyes. Her s/c skin, e/c eyes, and h/c hair.
She could envision the snitch’s golden glistening color. The color of their clothes. The red and gold of the Gryffindor tie. The golden rims around James’ glasses. Remus’ pink cheeks. The brown logs and the jade leaves falling from them—the deep blue color of the Black Lake. The white highlights of the images show the glittering and rippling effect. Suddenly, she knew why Sirius liked drawing.
“Like it?“ Sirius nudged her shoulder.
Y/n nodded, “Yeah, looks beautiful.”
“Thinking about maybe painting it on one of my canvas’. Do you think it’ll come out good?”
“I think it would look gorgeous.” Y/n confessed, and Sirius’ cheeks flushed, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to buy it from you.”
Sirius chuckled, “Siblings get it for free.”
“Do we now?” Y/n smirked, “I will definitely take advantage of that.”
“I’m sure you will.” Sirius laid his head on top of hers and continued to draw.
A couple of days later, when Sirius began painting the picture on his canvas, the mirror had started to flicker. He grinned like a kid on Christmas and placed it on a table where James could see himself painting. Y/n was in the corner reading a book but perked up after hearing her boyfriend’s soothing voice.
“How’s summer going, Blacks?”
Sirius smiled, continuing to paint, “It’s going great!”
James deadpanned, and Y/n almost laughed, “How’s it really going, Pads?”
Neither of them answered, and James surveyed the room, “Did they lock you in your bedroom again?”
“Fuck no!” Sirius replied matter-of-factly, “We can go wherever we want to.”
“You’re stuck in your bedroom.” James sighed, “But you can keep lying to yourself to keep yourself from hurting those around you.”
James took in Y/n’s sorrowful e/c eyes and Sirius’ reflex to run his fingers through his hair when nervous. He could see how messy the room had gotten and how skinnier they looked. Sirius’ cheeks were caving in, and Y/n’s body became less curved. It broke James’ heart a thousand times over. On selfish days James thought it hurt him more than them.
“Come on, let me break you out of there.” James begged, “Please?”
Y/n shook her head, “You can’t, James.”
“Why not?”
“They know about us.” Y/n informed, and James’ face softened, “I can’t let them hurt you.”
“But- But they aren’t even feeding you guys!” James exclaimed, trying to make some form of an argument.
“They give us small portions,” Sirius mumbled.
“To share.” James rolled his eyes, “Please! I’ll do anything. Just let me break you guys out.”
Tears collected in Y/n’s eyes, “You can’t. And we won’t leave Regulus behind.“
“To hell with it! Bring Regulus with us!”
“James,” Y/n began softly, “This fantasy you’re having of helping us escape the old evil witch is going to get you nowhere. We’re stuck, and we can’t leave our tower.”
“No,” James shook his head, eyes filled to the brim with tears, “I will come for you guys, and- and I won’t stop until you’re home.”
Sirius wrapped an arm around his sister, “We love you, mate. But Y/n’s right. We can’t go anywhere but here.”
“I won’t take no for an answer.” James retorted, wiping his tears, his eyes filling with a determination Y/n and Sirius saw when he began a prank, “I will get you three out of there. No matter what.”
“Whatever you do,” Y/n sniffled, “Be careful.”
James smirked, “Always.”
The mirror went blank again, and they only saw their reflections. Y/n wiped her eyes and went back to sitting on the bed, a book in her lap. Sirius put the mirror face down on the night table and released a breath of relief. He resumed his position in front of the canvas with his paintbrush in hand. It wasn’t acrylic paint. It was watercolor.
It was days before the painting was finished. Sirius’ focus didn’t stay long after being malnourished for almost two weeks now. Y/n ended up spending most of her time studying or reading the Muggle books Remus provided. They still hadn’t heard any sign of James, which could’ve been bad or good. Sirius decided to stay optimistic.
The days grew longer and more drawn out the longer they were stuck in Sirius’ bedroom. Most days, they couldn’t drag each other out of bed. Sirius would lay on her while she read out loud whatever paperback Y/n had been fascinated with at the time. They weren’t allowed to shower, and Sirius’ hair went greasy. It was gross.
Finally, after a month, they heard movement. It was late at night, and the sky was covered with clouds. Bright light flooded the small room that Y/n groaned at. Sirius rubbed his eyes and sat up to open the curtains. When he opened the curtains, he wasn’t met with the sun but rather a flashlight in a boy’s hand. The boy’s mouth was moving, but Sirius couldn’t hear a word.
The boy - who Sirius now recognized as James - motioned for him to move to the side. Sirius sidestepped, and James pointed a wand at the window, allowing the window to unlatch. It made a cringe-worthy noise. Sirius opened the window quietly, and Y/n sat up.
“What the bloody hell are you doing, Sirius?”
James snorted, “Well, isn’t she pleasant.”
Y/n jumped up at James’ voice, “What’re you doing here? You need to leave! Go!”
“Relax, I’m here to get you out of here.” James smiled, “Get your trunks. I have a port key outside.”
“James,” Y/n said softly, “Regulus, I won’t leave him.”
James placed both hands on her shoulders, “It’s time to pick. Either you get out of this miserable mess with Sirius, or you stay here with Regulus.”
“And I hope,” James continued, “That you finally choose yourself.”
She shook her head, pushing him away, “Take Sirius. Go anywhere. I won’t leave without Regulus.”
“Sis-“
“No.” Y/n stood her ground, “Reg and I will leave eventually but not now.”
Sirius packed his trunk. It was filled to the brim with books, journals, and clothes. It was hard to close, but Sirius got the latches to click. He stared intently at it, almost debating on whether or not he should do it. He’d be leaving both his siblings behind. Y/n hugged him tightly.
“Go,” She whispered, “Get out of here. You’re dying to explore. Remus and James will give that to you.”
He nodded and kissed her hair before throwing his trunk out of the window. Sirius landed on the soft grass, and James was left standing in the room. His hazel eyes filled with sorrow and despair. Y/n was his princess, and he couldn’t save her no matter how much he wanted to.
“I’ll find my way back to you,” Y/n assured, “I always do.”
James wrapped his arms around her tightly, “I’ll see you on the train.”
“I’ll see you.”
They pulled away, laying their foreheads together. James nuzzled his nose gently, making her smile at the soft gesture. His lips caught hers in a passionate, gentle, and loving kiss. James’ lips were so smooth, and they always had a tint of cherry chapstick. When they parted, his lips were pink and parted. Y/n smiled.
“Go,” Y/n pushed him away gently, “Go help my brother.
He nodded, and before he could jump out of the window, “James,” He turned, “This isn’t the end of us. I will get out of here if it kills me.”
“That’s my girl.” James smirked, “You escape this place even if you die trying.”
“Always.”
He gave her one last smirk before jumping onto the soft grass where Sirius was waiting. James grabbed his broom, and Sirius grabbed his trunk. They both placed their hands on the dirty sock, and within seconds they were at the Potter Manor at Godric’s Hollow. Y/n closed the window and locked it again as she watched them disappear.
It wasn’t until the start of the year when they unlocked Sirius’ bedroom to notice him missing. Regulus was heartbroken, and Y/n got the blame for it, which resulted in her being the receiver of many curses. They boarded the Hogwarts Express together for the first time since Regulus’ first year. Slytherins and Gryffindor were not supposed to be found together.
The siblings sat together alone in a compartment. Y/n didn’t miss how happy Sirius seemed now. His cheeks were whole again, and his ribs weren’t on full display—James’ arm around him and Remus. Y/n put an arm around Regulus, holding him close. Regulus allowed himself to melt into his older sister, his protector. James saw them, and he saw the bruises on Y/n’s cheek. If only he could see what was beneath her robes.
Hogwarts seemed dull. Not much happened between Y/n and the marauders. Her full-time job had become taking care of her little brother’s broken heart. Nothing happened between her and James other than small exchanges between classes, sex in broom cupboards, or kisses in the Astronomy tower. They spent very little time together but made it work.
The summer approaching her seventh year was dreadful. Y/n didn’t get locked in her bedroom this time, but the dinners were horrendous. It was silent, and the only noises were culinary on plates. Regulus looked terrified, and their parents looked to be communicating with their eyes or telepathically. Orion set down his utensils and crossed his arms.
“I believe we have a decision to make.”
“Pardon?” Y/n queried quietly.
Walburga took a sip of wine, “I believe it’s time you pay your duty to the family name.”
“Pay our duty?” Y/n asked, setting down her fork, “What are you on about?”
Orion pulled up his sleeve, and Regulus shivered at the black ink embedded in his father’s forearm, “After supper, you both will pay your duty to this family.”
“What if we refuse?”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” Walburga questioned, an eyebrow raised, “I assure you your punishment will be ten times worse than getting the dark mark.”
“Okay.” Y/n agreed, “But I go first.”
“Beautiful.” Walburga smiled.
The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife. Regulus kept staring at his older sister with an incredulous expression. She had never been one to give in, but she was also willing to do anything for Regulus, even if it meant ruining her relationship. Before the ceremony, Regulus pulled her aside, and Y/n cast a silencing spell.
“You aren’t going to do it, are you?”
“Of course I am.” Y/n replied, “You aren’t doing his alone.”
“What about James? And Sirius?”
“They’ll understand.”
“No!” Regulus cried, “They won’t!”
Y/n looked around before gripping Regulus’ forearm tight, “Go, run. Anywhere. I promise I’ll find you.”
“No.” His eyes hardened, “I won’t leave you behind.”
“Regulus, I’m begging you.” Y/n pleaded, “Leave this house. Take the Knight Bus to the Potters. Find Sirius and stay there.”
His eyes filled with tears, “But- But-“
“No.” Regulus had never seen her be so brave, “You need to go.”
Before he could refuse, Y/n kissed his forehead and pushed him near the door, “I told Kreacher to let you go. He won’t say anything.”
“You have to promise to come back to me,” Regulus begged, holding his sister’s hands.
“I can’t promise you.” They both heard footsteps, “Go!”
Y/n pushed him out of the door and closed it behind her. Hastily she riddled the silence charms. Walburga smiled at her and laid out her hand for Y/n to take. Releasing a breath, Y/n took it. Walburga’s hands were soft and pale. They had never seen a day of work in their life. The only thing they ever picked up was a wine glass.
She led Y/n to the main room. Inside was not just Orion. It was the entirety of the Black family inside that hadn’t been banished. There was a chair placed in the middle of the room. It had dark green patting and dark oak wood. Hesitantly Y/n sat with her left forearm facing the feeling when Narcissa spoke up.
“Where’s Regulus?”
Y/n shrugged, “I don’t know. I couldn’t find him after dinner.”
“No matter.” Walburga smiled happily, “Y/n here will replace his spot.”
Bellatrix looked at her stupidly. Y/n was a Gryffindor, not a Slytherin. Narcissa didn’t seem to mind, but Lucius looked like he wanted to spit at her feet. Andromeda wasn’t there, a sign of her being burnt from the tapestry just a couple of years ago for marrying a Muggle named Ted Tonks. Andromeda had always begged Y/n to take care of her younger brothers. That promise was getting fulfilled now.
“Are we ready?” Orion questioned, and a round of agreements went around the room.
He placed his wand against the skin of her left forearm. Orion muttered something, and immense pain filled her body. It ached, and it felt like her bones were shattering beneath her skin. The feeling of being hit with a thousand pins hitting her skin where the new black ink was going into her skin. Her body shook, but within seconds it was gone. Now the only remembrance of doing the ceremony laid on her left forearm. Claps echoed through the main room of the Black family home. Y/n swallowed.
At least it wasn’t Regulus.
Regulus had run as far as he could before calling for the Knight Bus. Unknowingly his pockets were filled with galleons that Y/n must’ve shoved into his pockets. He paid them twelve and sat down on a bed while they brought him to the Potter residence. He felt guilty for leaving her behind, but she had been so insistent.
It was dawn when Regulus arrived at the brown wooden house in Godric’s Hollow. The neighborhood was calm and homey. The weather was humid, and Regulus felt sticky when he left the bus. But he looked around until he found the last name Potter on the mailbox. The driveway was an abundance of stones in different directions. The house itself looked similar to a typical suburban home, but Regulus knew looks could be deceiving.
Hesitantly he knocked on the door and waited to hear footsteps. After a minute of standing, the door opened wide, and familiar grey eyes stared at him. Sirius. His hair was longer, and he looked to have grown two inches. His cheeks were full and pink. He was wearing red pajama pants and a plain grey tee. Regulus assumed that Mrs. Potter gave him a new wardrobe.
Sirius looked around before talking, “Where is she?”
“She-“ Regulus swallowed, “She took it.”
“N- No, you’re lying!”
Regulus shook his head, “She told me to go, to leave.”
“James!” Sirius yelled, and a tousled James stood beside him, looking at Regulus in shock.
Without a word, James pulled him into a tight embrace. Regulus was just a tad shorter than James, and he rested his chin on James’ shoulder. James had his arms wrapped tightly around the younger Black brother’s body, not wanting to release him. He saw Regulus’ look of guilt and pity for James when he did.
“Come on, inside.” James ushered them in, “It’s gross outside.”
They walked into the house. Regulus was surprised at how big the inside was. The outside made it look no bigger than a suburban home, but the inside rivaled a mansion. The first room on the right was a sitting room, and the first room to the left was the kitchen. Further back, there appeared to be a dining room. Stairs led to the second story and stairs leading down to a basement.
James went into the sitting room, and Sirius followed. Regulus took his time in following after them. The hallway had family photos of the Potters all together, smiles on their faces. Regulus could remember the Black family photos, sitting straight, shoulders back, and not smiling, looking into the lens. He hated those pictures. Sirius called for him softly, and Regulus took a seat in an armchair.
“So,” The room was unbearably stiff, “Y/n has the dark mark.”
“Yes.”
Sirius ran a hand through his hair, “I shouldn’t have left her there.”
“It’s not your fault, Pads.” James assured, “If I’m honest, I’m glad it’s her.”
Both brothers stared at James as if someone had died, “Y/n’s capable of defending herself. She’s been top of our year since first year. I trust her to make the right decisions.”
“She’s on the opposing side!” Sirius exclaimed, “If she goes through with this, she’ll be at our wand point!”
“I know that.” James said calmly, “But she makes the right decisions. Maybe she can become a spy for us.”
“If she gets found out, they’ll kill her.” Regulus interjected, “It’d be putting her in more danger.”
Sirius looked ready to cry, “She’s my little sister. I was supposed to take care of her! Protect her!”
“You did.” James replied, “You did the best you could. She told you to leave, and she took the mark for Regulus willingly. She would’ve never let either of you get the mark.”
“I just,” Sirius sounded breathless, “I don’t know what to do.”
James put an arm around his shoulder, “We’ll figure it out together.”
It wasn’t until seventh year when James saw Y/n again. James, Sirius, and Regulus saw her with the Black parents, who looked highly proud of their only daughter. Y/n boarded the train alone and sat in a compartment alone. Regulus joined his older brother in the Marauders compartment where he could laugh freely.
Y/n had been given strict orders to stay away from James and every other blood-traitor alike. That was the expectation of a Death Eater.
Months later, when the war finally began, she was requested at the Malfoy Manor to supervise a captive. The Death Eaters were unaware that Y/n was working as a spy for the Order of the Phoenix. When she entered the room, she saw two familiar faces. One man with tousled sandy-blond hair and tired green eyes. Another with dark brown mussed hair and a muscular build.
“Here you are, dearie.” Bellatrix smiled, twirling her wand, “They’re all yours till the morning.”
Y/n gave a courtesy, “Thank you, Bella.”
Bellatrix walked out of the room with her hips swaying. The room itself was dull and had no windows. The walls were white but appeared grey with the darkness of the room. Y/n whispered ‘Lumos,’ lighting up the tip of her wand to see the conditions of the two captives. Both men were tied at the wrists and ankles. They also had blindfolds across their eyes.
“Who-“ Remus coughed, “Who’s there.”
Y/n didn’t answer, “You have a familiar scent.”
Remus would be correct. After hanging around him for six years at Hogwarts, she would have a familiar scent. James didn’t say anything and allowed Remus to take the lead. Despite not seeing, Remus continued to smell the air trying to remember who’s scent was currently in the room. Y/n knew they had to leave tonight.
The full moon was tomorrow.
“I promise I’ll get you guys out of here.” Y/n whispered, and James visibly perked up at the sound of her voice, “Y/n!”
“Shh,” Y/n hushed hastily, “You can’t be loud of they’ll check in on us.”
Remus whimpered, “Please, you have to get me out of here the full-“
“Yes, the full moon is tomorrow.” Y/n interjected softly, “I won’t let you hurt anyone. I promise.”
After an hour, Y/n gave them both some water from a glass and her wand. Her shift was up when the sun began to rise in five hours. At every hour mark, Y/n would give them something or help them somehow. At two o’clock, it was loosening their ankle ties. At three o’clock, it was giving them some solid food. At four o’clock, it was taking off their blindfolds. At five o’clock, it was loosening their wrist ties. Finally, at six o’clock, she gave them their wands.
“You have everything to protect yourself. I will leave this room in just two minutes, and Narcissa will be outside waiting. In that time, I will try to stall her so you will have maybe a minute at most to apparate out of here.” Both men nodded, “Then I won’t be responsible because I’ll be talking with Narcissa.”
When two minutes passed, Y/n walked out of the room. Both men heard her greet Narcissa, and they quickly apparated out of the building to the safehouse. Y/n had walked away by the time Narcissa entered the bare room. Her gasp could be heard from across the Manor. She reported it instantly.
Y/n was never seen as a suspect because of her alibi, and technically, the men were under Narcissa’s watch at the time.
The next afternoon, Y/n apparated to the safe house. The atmosphere inside the safe house was much more welcoming than the Malfoy Manor. Compared to the manor, the safe house was a breath of fresh air. When Y/n entered the house, she was greeted with laughter coming from the sitting room where she saw her husband and child on the ground playing together.
Remus was sitting in an armchair, watching them. Sirius was lying on the floor with James and Harry. Regulus was in the kitchen making conversation with other Order members. James turned when he heard the door open and smiled brightly when his wife entered the home.
“Look, Harry, mumma’s here!” James said, pointing at Y/n, taking off her coat.
Y/n smiled and walked toward them on the couch. She took Harry in her arms, making him giggle happily. The Marauders sat together in the sitting room until it was time for Remus to leave for the Shrieking Shack. Regulus was on Harry duty while the other three - Peter was busy on a mission - went out with Remus.
The following morning, they were all exhausted. Remus was sleeping in a bedroom, and Y/n sat beside him while the other slept. Y/n held his hand soothingly. It was just past midday when Remus muttered something that Y/n barely caught.
Harry cringed at Professor Potter’s stern voice. She was a very laid-back teacher, and her tone of voice always stayed the same level. He had never heard this from her before. Harry could remember when he was a boy under the stairs. Petunia used to raise her voice sometimes at the man on the phone. He used to cower into the deepest depths of the cupboard, hoping that she would stop.
Harry then heard Lupin’s calm voice, “Dumbledore had specifically said that you were working with You-Know-Who. How were we supposed to take that?”
“I don’t know!” Professor Potter exclaimed, “Maybe ask me about it before pointing your wand at my throat?”
“It was a genuine mistake-“ Harry grimaced at Professor Lupin’s poor choice of words.
“A mistake that ruined my life, Lupin!” Harry could feel the malice in her tongue, “Seven years! Seven fucking years of misery. Seven years I will not get back.”
Harry turned the corner to see Lupin’s expression with obvious guilt, but Professor Potter didn’t seem deterred, “Not only was it seven years. I’m not even allowed to have my nephew in my custody because of my record.” Her voice got so low that Harry had to strain to hear it, “You don’t understand what he’s been through, Lupin. He’s getting abused by Lily’s sister, and there’s nothing I can do about it! They see I’ve been to Azkaban, and that’s all they care about.”
Harry almost gasped. Hermione would scold him for being an idiot, but it could’ve been possible that they were related just because they shared the same last name. Now that was confirmed. Professor Potter was his aunt. Harry was in for a good slapping my Hermione, and he owed Ron two sickles.
“But you know what, fuck it all right?” Harry pleaded to Godric he’d never make Professor Potter mad; her voice was shrill and scary, “Because everything that comes out of Dumbledore’s mouth is the truth, right?”
Lupin sighed, “I really am sorry. I know you won’t forgive me, and that’s reasonable, but with Regulus being alive now, you’re going to have to be around Padfoot.”
“I’ve known all about Regulus being alive.” Professor Potter said matter-of-factly, “After all, he’s the reason I’m out of Azkaban.”
Harry turned the corner again, Lupin looked flabbergasted, and from the view of Potter’s back, she seemed smug, “He- He defended you?”
“He did.” Her chin tipped up.
Professor Lupin ran a hand through his hair, looking shocked. He seemed to stand there frozen in time yet so moving simultaneously. His hands moved at a constant pace as if he didn’t know what to do with them. His glasses laid low on his nose, dangerously close to slipping off his face. Harry could see his knee-trembling slightly, possibly in pain. Professor Lupin did carry a cane occasionally.
“He’s also my fiancé.”
That was the bomb that made Lupin’s glasses fall. Professor Potter walked straight and past Lupin, further from Harry. Her shoes made a soft clicking noise against the old floors of Hogwarts. Professor Lupin bent down to grab his glasses and placed them in her cloak before sliding down the wall. His knees were to his chin, and he looked like a pretzel, Harry thought.
Lupin was all long limbs and skinny body. It made him look funny. Nonetheless, Harry was stuck in a sticky situation. His previous question to Professor Lupin now forgotten and more intrigued with the history of his two professors. Hastily, Harry looked at the Marauders Map to find no one insight, and he walked back to the Gryffindor Tower.
Breakfast in the Great Hall was always a magnificent experience. Especially for Ronald Weasley, who never really stopped eating until the food disappeared. It was indeed an appalling talent considering his many other siblings. But Ron didn’t go straight for the French toast. Instead, he stared at Harry.
“What?“
“You were missing last night?”
Hermione turned, “Missing?”
Ron turned to Hermione, “I woke up after a nightmare to find Harry’s bed empty.” Both teens turned to Harry eating a sausage, “So where were you?”
“I had a question for Professor Lupin that turned into a very intriguing history lesson,” Harry replied nonchalantly.
The trio was quiet for a moment before Ron scoffed, “Go on then,” He beckoned, “Share with the class.”
“Apparently,” Harry drawled, “Professor Lupin messed up Professor Potter’s life.”
Hermione was looking for more, “And she’s also my aunt.”
“I knew it!” Ron exclaimed and held out his hand, “Go on.”
Harry dug through his pockets and slapped two sickles in Ron’s hand; Hermione looked less impressed, “I mean, of course, it seems obvious, innit?”
Both boys turned to her, “Do you guys not feel the tension whenever Professor Lupin and Potter get within five feet of each other?” Based on the boy’s expression, it was a no, “You two are absolutely hopeless.” She grumbled while stuffing her face with porridge.
“So what happened?”
“She told him off, and he kinda just sat there, I suppose.” Harry shrugged, drowning his pancakes in syrup, “I left before anyone could see me.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Ron asked, mouth full of egg.
“Plan?”
“Yeah,” Ron replied, “We need a plan to figure out what went wrong.”
Hermione scoffed, “I think it has something to do with her going to Azkaban.”
She shuffled through her bag before pulling out an old Daily Prophet. She pointed at a paragraph, “If you read here, it says that Y/n Potter and Remus Lupin had been romantically involved before the incident causing her to go to Azkaban.”
“Why the hell do you have this?” Harry’s spoon clattered against his dish.
“Research! That’s not the point.” Hermione swatted at him, “The point is that obviously, something happened between the two. Not to mention them being absolutely connected. Did she mention anyone else?”
“Professor Lupin did mention something about a Padfoot?”
Hermione hummed, “Okay, let’s say Padfoot is a nickname for a friend, okay?“
“Bloody weird nickname,” Ron murmured.
“No one asked you, Ronald.” Hermione snapped.
Harry grinned, “She said the full name.”
“Harold Potter.”
“My name isn’t even Harold!”
“Irrelevant!” She exclaimed, “Padfoot is their friend, or was their friend. Maybe we should talk to them or find them.”
Ron swallowed his bacon faster than you could say wackspurt, “And how exactly are we going to find this Padfoot?”
“I don’t think we should find him.” Hermione said exasperated, “I think we should ask Professor Potter about him.”
“Why would we do that?”
“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”
Hermione narrowed her eyes, “That’s never been a problem with you before.”
Harry flipped his hands up defensively, “It was one bloody time.”
Ron snickered, “We ended up saving your life, didn’t we?”
“Not the point!”
It took days of planning, but the trio eventually came up with a plan. However, their plan was quickly thrown to the dogs when Professor Lupin entered the History of Magic classroom during the third-year Gryffindors and Hufflepuff class time. Professor Potter paid him absolutely no mind, but Professor Lupin was undetermined and stood in the entryway of the door. Everyone enjoyed Professor Potter’s lessons. According to the upper-level students, she was much more intriguing than old Professor Binns.
A cough sounded from the doorway, “Professor Potter?”
“Yes?” Her voice sounded strained behind her gritted teeth.
“May I bother you for just a moment?”
“More than you already have?” Some Hufflepuffs sniggered, and Seamus ‘Ooooed’ from the front left corner of the room.
Professor Potter turned, “Pay him no mind, Mr.Finnigan. I’ll be back in just a second.”
Without another word, she left the classroom with the door cracked open. Professor Lupin placed his shoe in the crevice of the door so it wouldn’t close completely. Harry sat in the back of the classroom with Hermione beside him; despite the closed door and low voices, the duo could still hear their every word.
“What is your problem!” Y/n whisper shouted, “I can’t even teach my class in peace now?”
Remus sighed, clearly done with the bickering, “Sirius will be staying with me for the weekend.”
“And I care; why?”
“You don’t.” Remus stated plainly, “But he would like to speak with you.”
She scoffed, “‘He would like.’ You know, I’d like many things in this world, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?”
“I am well aware we do not always get what we want, thank you.” Remus retorted drily, “However, we are both making an effort to correct what we have done to you.”
“You’re wasting your time,” Y/n stated as she tried to enter her classroom.
Remus stopped her, “When was the last time you used Vixen?”
“I don’t think that’s any of your business.”
“It’s not.” Remus replied, “But if you can make it, I’d appreciate it greatly.”
Professor Potter didn’t answer. Instead, she walked around him and entered her classroom. Harry didn’t know what Professor Lupin meant by if she could ‘make it.’ Maybe it was a specific teacher meeting or something that the teachers did. Regardless, it was evident that the Professors still weren’t on good terms.
The following Monday, Professor Lupin was not teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Professor Potter instead. She leaned on the wooden desk with her dark purple robes on. Underneath her robes were muggle clothes. Professor Potter always seemed indifferent to blood status. Everyone sat in their respected seats when Harry raised his hand.
“Yes, Mr. Potter?”
“Where is Professor Lupin?”
Y/n sighed, “He’s fallen ill. So until he feels better, I’ll be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts in his place.”
Harry smiled, seemingly okay with that answer. It didn’t seem that Professor Potter was angry at Professor Lupin for teaching in his absence but that she seemed tired. Harry noticed some new bruises on her arms when she took her robes off and how she seemed to move sluggishly across the classroom. Professor Potter was laid-back, but she wasn’t lazy.
It was late, and Harry was just about to go to the Gryffindor corridor when he saw Professor Potter sitting at Professor Lupin’s desk with a stack of parchment. He approached the door quietly and knocked gently. Y/n perked up and smiled happily at the intrusion.
“It’s quite late, Harry.” Y/n observed, “Might it be time for you to go to the Gryffindor tower?”
Harry flushed, “I was wondering if I could talk to you? If I’m not intruding.”
“Not a problem, my love.” Y/n waved her hand, and the papers hit the floor beside the desk.
A chair from one of the desks floated in front of the Professor’s desk, and Y/n motioned for him to sit in it. Harry tried to move less eager than he was but still moved faster than he would’ve liked. His satchel hit the ground beside him, and Y/n twirled a quill.
“Sorry, I can’t offer you any tea.” Professor Potter said, slightly embarrassed, “As you can see, this isn’t my classroom, and I have no idea where anything is.”
Harry grinned, not unlike James; Y/n noticed, “I think I’ll explode if I drink any more tea,” Harry chuckled, “I just came from dinner at the Great Hall.”
“Wonderful,” Y/n commented with an amused smile, “Now, what was it you wanted to speak about?”
He faltered slightly, “We share the same surname.”
“We do,” Y/n stated, “But that happens all the time.”
“Well, is it possible that you’re related to my father, James Potter?”
She smirked, “It is.”
“Are you?”
“I am.”
Harry didn’t think he would get this far.
“I’m his twin sister.” Y/n said, “Which makes you my nephew, in case you weren’t aware.”
“I-I know.” Harry stuttered, “Can you- um- tell me what he was like?”
Y/n beamed, “Of course. Is there anything, in particular, you’d like to know?”
“Was he kind?” He queried hesitantly, “I’ve heard he was arrogant.”
She laughed at that, “He was definitely arrogant, but he was exceedingly kind to make up for it. It didn’t matter how many times you upset or disappointed James Potter, he’d always give you a second, or third, or fourth chance.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard that he was a star Chaser for the Gryffindor House team. Sirius Black - his best mate - was a Beater on the team, and believe it or not, Professor Lupin was the Commentator.”
“Commentator?”
“Indeed.” Y/n smirked, “Professor Lupin was extremely witty in his youth.”
Harry kicked a crumpled note under the desk before asking again, “Why are you and Professor Lupin so cross?”
“Professor Lupin and I are perfectly cordial.” Y/n saw Harry’s disbelieving look, “However, we aren’t the greatest of friends.”
“Why?”
She coughed subtly, “It’s a very long-winded story we don’t have time for, I’m afraid.”
“Does it have something to do about your imprisonment?”
“How do you know about that?”
“Hermione showed Ron and me the other morning at breakfast.”
Y/n smiled fondly, “She’s quite brilliant, but yes, it does.”
“So you and Professor Lupin were in a relationship?”
“We were.” Y/n answered, “We started going out in our fifth year and presumably broke up when I got sentenced.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He felt like the words were falling from his mouth before he could stop them, “Can I live with you?”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just that- I’m sorry- I didn’t-“ Harry’s face was the color of rose, and he was spluttering to try and form a sentence.
Y/n had an expression on her face that could only be called affectionate, “It’s okay, Harry. I’ve heard rumors of what the Dursleys do to you over the summer holidays.”
“You have?” Harry seemed relaxed by this.
“I have, and I’d love nothing more for you to stay with me.” Y/n sighed, “However, I’d need clearance from the Ministry, and I don’t know if they’ll permit me. Especially with one of your guardians having a clean record.”
Harry looked confused, “I have another guardian?”
“You do.”
“Who are they?”
“Sirius Black is your godfather.” Y/n replied, “To be quite honest, I’m not sure why he hasn’t tried to take you in yet. However, I believe it’s Dumbledore’s orders. I’ve never been one for following his orders, though.”
She had a mischievous grin on her face, “This may be a lot to ask, but-“
“I’ll try.” Harry looked shocked at her interjection, “Hopefully, by the summer, you’ll be able to come home to mine instead of the Dursleys. Sound fair?”
“Yes. Thank you!”
“You’re welcome, love.”
Harry was in much brighter spirits after his talk with Professor Potter. It was exciting to learn that he could get rid of the Dursleys and live with a loving Aunt. Not to mention he also had a godfather that he never knew of.
Three owls were sent that night by three different owls. One snow-white owl named Hedwig sent a letter to a mysterious Sirius Black. A second all-black owl named Achilles was sending a letter to the Ministry for parental permission of Harry James Potter. Finally, a third barn owl was sending a letter to Regulus Black about the potential of Harry living under their roof.
Sirius wasn’t expecting mail at the kitchen table when eating breakfast. Usually, the mail came in through the muggle mailbox since he and Remus shared a flat in muggle London, but occasionally they’d get mail by owl-post. Sirius took the envelope from the owl, but she didn’t fly away immediately. She watched Sirius open it and sat patiently.
“Dear, Sirius Black,
I don’t really know how to start this. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Harry James Potter, and apparently, you were my dad’s best mate. That’s all I really know about you and that you were a Beater for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. I’m a Seeker for the team right now.
According to Professor Potter, you’re my godfather. I wish you would’ve contacted me or told me you exist. I’ve only just now learned of who you are. Apparently, you, mum, dad, Professor Lupin, and Professor Potter were all friends. Maybe you didn’t know I was born, and that’s why you didn’t contact me, or that’s what I’m hoping. Otherwise, it’s real shit of you not to.
I guess owl me back, so I know you exist still.
-Signed,
Harry Potter”
Sirius chuckled, running a hand through his hair, “Nothing like getting told off by your godchild.”
Harry did get a letter back from the mysterious Sirius Black only two days later. The handwriting was elegant and curvy; maybe his godfather was posh or a muggle. The Potter’s didn’t seem to care about blood status. When he asked Hermione and Ron about the Black’s, he got an insightful explanation about the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Nonetheless, the words inside were encouraging and informative. Despite Sirius not reaching out, he seemed kind.
Harry and Sirius continued to owl each other. As it continued, the letters got more personal and more helpful. Sirius was actually really good at offering advice for Harry when needed. Professor Potter had gotten an owl back about her parental permissions being granted after months of review. After the History of Magic examination, Harry was to stay after class.
After class, Harry received news that he would be coming to the Black/Potter residence for the summer holidays, and he was ecstatic. The train home couldn’t have been any slower, and he couldn’t wait to be safe in a house with his Aunt.
They apparated to the driveway, which was stone brick pavers, it seemed neverending, and the cherry blossom trees surrounding the house were in full bloom. It was a two-story house, painted grey with dark brown - almost black - accents. When the duo walked inside the house smelt like a man’s cologne, Harry thought the house couldn’t be more different than the Dursleys.
A soft fluffy thing walked in between Harry’s legs immediately after his shoes were off, and Y/n chuckled, “This is lynx. She’s our cat.”
He bent down, and she smelt his hand before rubbing against it, “She’s beautiful.”
“Thank you.” Y/n replied, “Though Regulus will take great pride in that.”
Harry followed Y/n into the kitchen, where she began preparing tea, “Regulus?”
“Oh!” She exclaimed as she placed the kettle on the stove, “Regulus is my fiancé. He knows you’re here, and he is super sweet.”
“Where is he?”
Y/n put the boiling water in two cups, “Working.”
She passed him a cup of the jasmine tea, “Do I- um- call him Uncle?”
“You don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable.” Y/n was always so soft and trying to make him comfortable, “He’ll appreciate anything that isn’t Mr. Black.”
“Okay.” Harry smiled.
Regulus didn’t come home until later that evening. Y/n had shown Harry to his bedroom, which was the same bedroom she occupied while staying in the house. Harry was getting settled in when the door opened loudly, and someone was taking their shoes off at the door along with their cloak.
The man had jaw-length curvy hair with blue-grey eyes. His skin was pale and flushed from the heat. He also had freckles under his eyes. His jawline was sharp, his cheeks sunken just a pinch. The man was skinny but had muscle and was extremely tall. He stood at around six feet. Harry was just about five feet and five inches.
He didn’t see Harry at the top of the steps and went straight into the kitchen, where he placed down the take-out containers. Y/n appeared at the other end of the kitchen, it seemed, because the man stopped and smiled at her. Harry stood at the central kitchen entrance watching them interact. He kissed her on the cheek as she unloaded the bag of takeout. Finally, Harry was noticed.
“Ah, you must be Harry.” Regulus said with a smile, and Harry flushed, embarrassed for ruining their peace, “I’m Regulus.”
Harry didn’t say anything and stared at them wearily, “It’s okay, Harry. You can come in. Regulus got us some take-out. Hopefully, it’s something you like.” Y/n smiled, putting two boxes in front of a barstool at the island.
He sat down hesitantly and began to eat, “Sorry,” Harry apologized, “I’m not used to this setting yet.”
“We’ve been in the same position before.” Regulus stated solemnly, “Except I didn’t have an amazing Aunt to escape to.”
Y/n laughed, “Shut it.”
“I’m just telling him the truth!” Regulus defended mouthful of food.
“Chew your food.” Y/n scoffed.
Harry smiled at their good-natured bickering. It was much different from Petunia and Vernon constant arguing. Harry could get used to this. He was never really allowed to sit in the kitchen and eat with the others. He also would’ve been punished for eavesdropping as he had previously. Y/n and Regulus didn’t seem to mind, however.
The summer holiday was truly fun compared to his usual one. Regulus was kind and sweet, like Y/n’s description. Lynx also seemed to take a liking to him. Lynx slept with him every night but traveled throughout the house in the mornings. Harry also learned that breakfast would always get made in the mornings. Sometimes it was french toast, pancakes, or waffles as a main course, but it always tasted heavenly.
He learned that Y/n went to Hogwarts a week early to prepare for classes, leaving him home alone with Regulus. Harry and Regulus got along nicely. They didn’t know much about each other, however. Harry was in the library when he found a black leather-bound book. It read ‘The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black History’ in gold foil on the spine. Harry pulled it from the shelf and began to read through it.
It seemed like a biography on the Black family with many facts inside. Whoever wrote the book was obviously well informed on the pureblood family. The book talked about everyone too, even the disowned members of the family like Alphard Black, Andromeda Black, Phinneas Black, and finally Sirius Black.
Harry drank up all the knowledge about Sirius like a bee with nectar. Sirius seemed to have a troubling childhood with extremely abusive parents. He’d go weeks without food, water, and sometimes shelter. Sirius was the only Black to get sorted into Gryffindor, but he wasn’t the first to be sorted into a different house.
He didn’t know how long he sat there reading until Regulus entered the room, “Whatcha got there?”
Harry snapped the book shut, looking like a deer in headlights, “I- um- I don’t- uh-“
“Y/n said you stuttered when you got caught, but I thought she was lying.” Regulus chuckled, “Apparently not.”
The young boy’s face was entirely red, “You aren’t in trouble, Harry.” Regulus sat down criss-cross in front of him.
Harry handed Regulus the book, and Regulus smiled, “It makes sense why you’d pick it up. It’s intriguing, isn’t it?”
“It is.” He admitted, “Sirius Black is my godfather, and I wanted to know more about him.”
“Well, you know, I actually wrote this book.” Regulus grinned, “You could always ask me.”
“You- You wrote it?”
Regulus let his fingers trail the front of the leather, “Yup. I just never published it.”
“Why not?” Harry questioned, “It’s brilliant!”
“Thank you.” Regulus blushed, “But nobody needs to know how horrid my family was.”
There was a short silence, “But since you seem so intrigued and I am Sirius Black’s younger brother. I’d love to tell you anything you’d like to know.”
Harry grinned cheerfully. The two boys sat in the library for the entire afternoon talking about the Black family. Harry found that he now understood what Regulus meant when he said they came from the same background. Regulus seemed to have it much worse than he did.
Toward the end of the holiday, Harry took to calling Regulus Uncle. It seemed fitting after Regulus had taken the role with such affection and care. Harry couldn’t imagine not coming to their house every summer and maybe even Christmas one year. He had never felt so safe in soft, warm bedsheets and a purring Lynx laying on the pillow he wasn’t using.
Y/n was already at Hogwarts, so Regulus had taken the role to bring him to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. Harry wasn’t disappointed. Regulus had made a fantastic breakfast that morning and some sweets to take with him or eat on the train. He hugged Regulus before jumping onto the train. Harry found Hermione and Ron quickly, where they all exchanged stories from the summer.
A/N: A little late but in honor of Remus Lupin’s 62nd birthday :)
Paper is just paper until a pen touches it with its scarring ink. It’s like taking a person’s nails and digging them into someone’s skin until they bleed. The canvas is blank until someone taints it. The tip of the quill touches the ink with a subtle clink, and he’s the one who ruins the canvas. Truth be told, it pains him to do so.
Because he knows firsthand what it’s like to be tainted by an unknown power.
Maybe she was the parchment, the canvas, the skin. Everything she touched seemed to blossom and bloom. She never tainted a single soul, but the minute his quill touched the delicate parchment, it felt ruined.
Maybe he’s being overdramatic because it is just notes on Transfiguration, but for some reason, he can’t help but wince.
He can still hear the ringing in his ear from the previous full moon less than forty-eight hours ago. It feels like a fly constantly buzzing in his ear. It’s a constant annoyance. Maybe that’s what draws him to her like a moth to a lamp in the London streets.
She was never the constant buzz of a fly or the noisy honking of a car in the busy streets. She was the birds in the morning or the snow that absorbed all the sound. She was the welsh countryside where he grew up. The humid air and the summer heat. The blissful storm to wash everything away.
Perhaps that’s why he loved her so much.
They sit beside each other in Transfiguration, replicating each other’s actions. He glances at her scarred parchment. Somehow it looks like a summer day. Everything is flourishing and blossoming like it’s meant to. He looks at his parchment to see the usual winter appearance. The look of everything dead and departing. The stream of birds that flee to the south for warmth.
Suddenly he feels embarrassed. His robes feel too tight, and his white button-up beneath them feels clammy. He can only hope that it’s not protruding any scent. The quill threatens to escape his now sweating palm, but he tightens his grip causing a line across the parchment.
Tainting it, if you will.
She sits beside him in silence. Her eyes lingered on Professor McGonagall with a fondness that he almost felt as if he was intruding on them. Her gaze only falls when something flies and hits him directly on the right cheek of his face. She turns and threatens to smile at him. A smile that he adores and loves to see on her face. He thinks it’s lovely.
But he knows that he needs to pick up the piece of paper that is now lying beside him on the ground. It’s crumpled, and the parchment has lines of where it’s been folded and crumpled to shreds. Carefully, he opens it, so he doesn’t rip it after being too impatient. Inside it has curly, calligraphy handwriting that one comes from a pureblood.
The note itself is outrageous and makes Remus exhale extra hard. The boy who’s given him the note is smiling gleefully from his right. Remus rolls his eyes and crumples the paper back up into his bag. The girl doesn’t say anything. In fact, she’s actually writing again following what Professor McGonagall has on the board. Without realizing it, she slips her hand into his.
Remus knows, little by little, she’ll continue to put him back together and help him bloom once more like he did when he was four.
a/n: Trying this format out bc there are a surprisingly low number of gifs of ATJ smiling. Both reader and James have glasses in this. This is for the glasses wearers!
summary: James finds you that morning struggling to cook breakfast. Among helping you, he realizes you may need to get new glasses and he gets very comfortable in helping test out his theory. Close is not close enough when it comes to James Potter
word count: 2.2k
James walks throughout your home, feet padding against the floor. He rubs his eyes, attempting to wipe away the drowsiness of having just woken up.
Hearing the clanging of pots and pans, his attention moves toward the kitchen and his heart skips a beat. He knows you’re in there, trying once again to cook something. He grins, breathing in deeply and brushing a hand through his hair to ruffle his uncontrollable locks.
Walking into the doorway, he leans a shoulder against it, crossing his arms and smiling at you as you try and figure out a box of waffle mix. Your brows were furrowed deeply as you attempted to read the instructions.
“But if I wanted to make more servings, how many extra eggs would I need? You don’t tell me that now do you, you dumb box of trash,” you murmur through gritted teeth. James let out a few silent laughs before heading over to you.
Your gaze moves towards the sound of feet moving and you inhale deeply at the sight of James, as if just his presence was a breath of fresh air. He hums as he slides up behind you, his arms curling around you and pressing against your stomach so that your body molds against his. You sink back into the hold, resting your head against his shoulder and smiling up at him.
“Good morning, love,” you say softly as James starts swaying you both back and forth. He leans down and gives you a soft kiss.
“Good morning. How’s breakfast going?” He asks amusedly, his lips still brushing against yours as his face remains centimeters away. You snort, shaking your head lightly.
“As if you don’t already know,” you say, eyes narrowing playfully. James’ face breaks out into a wide grin as he visibly holds back his laughter.
“Alright, move on over,” he says, squeezing your waist before his arms leave you. You jump as he gives your butt a few light pats, looking over your shoulder to grin at him before you move away from the burner, turning around to face him fully. You see him pick up the box of mix and your brows furrow.
“What are you doing?” You ask, shoulders tensing as his hand fiddles with the edge of the skillet. He looks up, noting the ingredients you had already gathered.
“I’m making breakfast, what does it look like I’m doing?” He murmurs, his attention on the food. Your jaw drops as a small sound of disbelief falls out. You step forward, placing your hand on the box, effectively getting James to look at you.
“No— James! I wanted to make you breakfast,” you argue, brows set in determination. James grins, appearing amused and you don’t entirely appreciate it. He turns to you, hip leaning against the oven, box still held in both your hands.
“I think we’d both be happier if I at least helped,” he says, smugness dripping from his tone and expectations clear in his gaze. Your face drops as you stare at him. You both silently watch each other, your eyes narrowed slightly.
Eventually you sigh, hand dropping from the box mix. You blink back, breaking the stare down.
“Fine,” you mumble, moving to cross your arms. James smiles, laughing and shaking his head lightly.
He moves quick, his hands grabbing onto your waist and before you know what’s happening, he’s lifting you up into the air before plopping you down on the counter. His hands move to the outside of your legs as they begin caressing up and down your thighs, hands slipping past the edge of your loose pajama shorts. You stare at him wide-eyed as he smiles brightly.
“There we go, dove,” he says softly, squeezing your thighs before letting go and moving back to the waffle mix. You lean back against the cupboards watching his hands as they move around the ingredients.
“I guess I’ll just sit here and make unhelpful commentary that you pretend to take into consideration before you ultimately ignore it, which is usually for the best if I’m being honest. But I seriously don’t know what’s wrong with a pancake omelette—“ you start before James interrupts you.
“Love…” he says, trailing off with a tone of confusion. You look up to meet his gaze, noticing his furrowed brows and the concern edging along outside of his eyes as he holds the box of waffle mix in hand.
“Yes?” You ask cautiously, not knowing what could cause such a wariness in James.
“Are your eyes alright?” He asks, looking between them as if simply gazing at them could help him spot a possible issue. Though there were none you knew of.
“Yeah, why?” You respond with a nod, curious as to why this was brought up. James brows furrow further, his gaze sharpening as he looks at you. He holds up the box next to him.
“Because the instructions for additional servings are right here in block letters,” he says plainly, shaking the box slightly. Your lips part and your hands start to move toward the box but James is quicker as he brings it close to your face.
You push your glasses back up your nose as you both hold the box close. Eyes narrowing, you notice now the letters are quite blurry.
“Oh,” is all you can say once James taps his finger against the area that held those specific instructions and you realize you just weren’t able to see it. Your cheeks burn with embarrassment.
James tugs the box out of your hands and sets it on the counter. He then taps at your knee, silently instructing you. You spread your thighs, allowing him to step into the space between them.
“Might have to get you checked out soon. Here,” he notes before moving. He takes off your glasses and you let him, sitting there as you come to terms with your vision worsening. With your glasses off, everything is basically a blur. But you can see James spread his arms out to the side. “Am I more blurry than usual?” He asks, head tilting. You grin and mentally promise yourself that you won’t let this news ruin your morning.
“Mmm, I don’t know. Come a bit closer,” you request with pursed lips and a dubious expression. James listens, coming closer. You shake your head. “Closer…” you trail off, needing him close and unsuspecting. Once James inches close enough, you smirk and jerk forward, arms darting out and snatching his glasses right of his face. “AHA!” You shout, hiding them behind your back. James leans back, shocked.
“Are you serious right now?” He asks, a grin threatening to take over. You laugh, shaking your head.
“No, I’m not Sirius!” You deny, causing James to break out a few hearty laughs.
“You know what I mean,” he says, voice serious but expression delighted as he knows that joke will never get old. You raise a brow at him, inclining your head forward.
“Do you want your glasses back?” You ask, changing the subject as you fiddle with them behind your back before placing them on the counter, still behind your back. James swipes his tongue over his teeth as he grins wide.
“Yes, in fact I do,” he says with a floppy nod. You bite your lip, noticing his attention flicking down to the action.
“Then come take em’” you whisper the challenge. But James merely leans back looking curious yet pleasantly surprised.
“You’re in a playful mood,” he notes, finding it odd given the breakfast and glasses situation. Your playfulness lulls as you stare at your boyfriend fondly, his words echoing in your head. You shrug before responding.
“I’m just trying to be happy about this,” you state, voice quieter than before. James’ features soften. His hands move from his side to hold your waist, tugging you close to the edge of the counter.
“I love it when you’re happy. I love it even more when I’m the one making you happy,” he expresses lowly, appearing exposed and sincere, yet comfortable looking so. You smile.
“You always make me happy, James,” you whisper. James inhales sharply and his shoulders rise as if a huge weight has been lifted off his back. He exhales as he moves closer, not stopping till he’s nose-to-nose with you.
“Can you see me now?” He asks as his face comes into focus. You nod, expression dazed as you remain shocked by how beautiful this man is.
“Crystal clear,” you whisper breathlessly as you gaze deeply into his eyes. James does the same, both of you needing and wanting to be this close in order to see each other perfectly.
“Merlin, you’re beautiful,” James compliments after a few moments of silence. You let out a small laugh.
“How would you know? You’re practically blind without your glasses,” you tease, knowing what he meant. But James scoffs as a smile lights up his face.
“Glasses get in the way. I see you most clearly when I’m close to you, just like this. And suddenly my vision has never been better because you are the most gorgeous thing I have ever seen or could ever imagine in my entire life,” he speaks, the words flowing out of him like he didn’t even need to think about it. They were just there, on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be spoken. And they stole the breath from your lungs. You leaned back against the cupboards, staring at him fondly.
“You’re in a romantic mood,” you note, repeating similar words to what he had said just minutes ago. James’ eyes spark to life with mischief and mirth.
“I’m just really in love with you,” he responds, playing along. Your heart skips a beat as you’re filled with a warmth by his words. Your teeth nibble on your lip as you try and reign in the smile that threatens to break loose.
“I love the way you speak to me, and I love that it’s me making you feel this way,” you continue, scrunching your nose toward him, feeling cheeky. James stares, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.
“I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else,” he says absentmindedly as he slowly starts to lean in. You smirk, following his lead.
“Neither would I,” you say, matter-of-factly. You lick your lips, your breath hitching as James’ hands move to your waist.
He stops a hair’s breadth away from you, his eyes locked onto your lips. You watch him closely. His hands squeeze your waist before he leans down, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. Your heart seizes as he tugs on it. You shudder slightly, grip tightening on the edge of the counter.
James releases your lip and before it can even fully snap back in place his mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply. You groan into the kiss, hands darting to bury themselves in his curls. You tug and he grunts, responding by teasing his tongue against the seam of your lips. Opening your mouth you meet him in the middle, tongues taunting each other, fighting for dominance.
Spreading his hands across your stomach, his thumbs brush the underside of your breasts and you exhale shakily into his mouth. You melt against the cupboard, letting him take dominance over the kiss. You internally curse him, both of you knowing that was one of your greatest weaknesses.
You kiss until your chest tightens and your throat starts to burn. James starts to break away, taking your bottom lip in his mouth once again and sucking on it before letting it go with a pop and fully breaking the kiss. You whine, sinking deeper against the cupboard as you look at him with wide eyes. His eyes slide open, meeting yours with a smirk already decorating his face.
“Now how about some breakfast and then I can make a call and schedule your appointment?” He offers, fingers brushing across your torso before letting it go, hands moving to rest on the counter.
“Deal,” you say breathlessly with a light nod. James huffs out a laugh, his smirk widening as he looks over your slacked form, gaze zoning in on your eyes and swollen lips.
“Right then,” he affirms, starting to move in again. You sit there stunned as he gives you two more quick kisses before stepping out from between your legs and grabbing the box of waffle mix once again. He looks back at you and raises something in the air. You narrow your eyes before picking up your discarded glasses and putting them back on.
With your vision restored, you look to see James holding up his glasses that you had stolen. Your jaw drops.
“How did you get those?!” You ask, demanding answers while trying not to laugh in disbelief. You glance back behind you, seeing there was nothing there. When you meet his gaze once more, he has his glasses back on but you can still clearly see the mischievous glimmer in his eyes.
“I’ll never reveal my ways,” he whispers conspiratorially, eyes narrowing. He turns away, heading toward the fridge to gather the additional ingredients you must have forgotten.
“Now wait a minute—“ you start, even jumping off of the counter to follow him before being cut off by James’ boisterous laugh. You stop in your tracks, your heart fluttering rapidly at the sound. James glances at you from over his shoulder, his smile wide. He pushes his glasses up his nose and you mirror the action by instinct.
His smile softens before he turns back to the fridge. You shake your head fondly before moving back to sit on the counter, waiting to watch him cook breakfast.
halloween@jamcspotters : (au) “you’re a cop here to break up the party, but i thought it was a costume and may have made some inappropriate suggestions regarding your handcuffs.”
tell me that you love me@wlntrsldler : you and james are friends with benefits. you fell in love with him while he’s too busy being in love with lily evans to realize. after a night of drinking, the truth comes out.
Pairings: James Potter x reader, Marauders era Warnings: Fluff, implied smut, very light smut, erotic tones Word Count: 3,440 A/N:Obviouslyyyyy this is based on the sketching scene in Titanic with Jack and Rose. I just watched it last night and just haddd to write a fic off it. Jamesy just gives me the soft boi vibes needed for a scene like this
With his mussed hair, swaggering stride, and infectious personality, James Potter was undeniably attractive. With Sirius by his side, the two were unstoppable. Sirius was as dark and mysterious as James was light and boyish–the two complimented one another perfectly. Together, they held every eye in the room.
Everybody knew James was a Quidditch star, one of the best Seekers the Gryffindor house had ever seen. He could’ve been just as good academically if he could sit still long enough, or if Sirius would let him alone long enough to study for any measurable amount of time. However, luckily for him, his natural skill saved him. He lived to make people laugh, even out of exasperation if necessary–even McGonagall fell to his charms on occasion. But most people didn’t know about his true gift. It seemed he liked to keep it a secret.
To be clear, you weren’t a stalker; you didn’t have their class periods sketched out in a notebook, you didn’t trail behind them in the halls, you didn’t eavesdrop on their conversations, it just seemed you and James preferred the same section of the library at about the same time. He’d turn the corner, find you seated on some sort of plush seating and give you a small smile before commandeering the table in front of you–James couldn’t be anywhere without demanding some sort of attention.
James’ secret was what you looked forward to most each day; James could draw. Not just stick figures, or abstract pieces that could probably qualify as art by definition, but truly beautiful work. Throughout the years, he drew many things, the towering shelves, the roaring fireplace, the Hogwarts grounds through a windowpane, and even caricatures of mean old Madam Pince as her beady eyes scanned for book abusers. Over the years, you watched his talent grow and his subject preference change. As he improved, he moved towards people. Girls studying with their hair tucked behind their ears, boys looking disgruntled as they glared down at their homework, eventually groups of them, working quickly to capture all of them candidly before they lost focus or left. Slowly, though, his subject and medium became slightly voyeuristic. Though he still drew in the library, usually choosing a pretty girl to sketch, the setting changed. From studying solemnly in their robes in the library, they were drawn looking up provocatively from their studies, their robes slit in promiscuous areas. This year, though, this year they become true art. His linework was precise, his shading improving as his shoulders hunched over in concentration, his head flicking up every so often to perfect an aspect of the portrait. You began to memorize his back, the way he’d tilt his head when he was unsatisfied with proportions, the way he’d roll his neck after finishing a section, the way his shoulders would tense when he’d have to leave before completing a sketch.
It was just as you were watching him now that he rolled his neck around and stretched. Lifting up the piece, you about dropped your book as he spoke to you.
“What do you think?” he said, without looking back. His voice was quiet enough to not disturb anyone, but loud enough to know it was for you.
The drawing was of a brown-haired girl sitting across the library at one of the open tables, but it was only her wild curls that told you it was the same girl. She didn’t sit at the table in front of you, studying. Instead, she lay splayed out lazily on one of the armchairs in the common rooms, her elbow resting on the arm, her hand in her hair. Her legs were splayed open; the only thing covering the apex was a conspicuously placed cat laid on her lap. Completely nude, the woman in the photograph was beautiful, without a doubt.
“Sorry?” you coughed, shocked. Bewildered in every way, you couldn’t help but stare at the woman in the photo, the expression on her face, the honesty and peace in the way she laid, the curvature of her breast, the lines of her hips; the clear adoration in the drawing made your cheeks warm.
“What do you think? Hard to tell what you women look like sometimes underneath the robes. D’you think it’s accurate?” he tilted his head as he spoke, his back still to you.
“Er,” you furrowed your brows. The art was gorgeous; how could you tell him any different? “It’s gorgeous.“
“But do you think it’s accurate?” he asked again, this time turning around in his seat and looking at you.
“Er, dunno. Haven’t exactly seen her naked,” you shrugged.
“Me neither. Bit funny, really. Drawing nude women without ever actually having seen one,” James said, grinning a half-smile.
“Why do you, then?” you asked, closing your book. James was simply not someone one skipped out on a conversation with. The way his hazel eyes gazed at you, you could feel the intensity, and it made your heart thrum.
“Can you think of anything better to draw than beautiful, nude women?” he asked, grinning a full grin now.
“No, suppose not,” you agreed, smiling softly. “We are mesmerizing.”
“You’ve no idea,” he grinned cheekily.
“Prongs! There you are, should’ve known,” Sirius all but yelled, striding over to where James sat with you. Ponce could be heard ‘shushing’ him from rows away. “Oh, and who have we here?”
Sirius smirked down at you from your seat on the floor, and the sole attention of both boys was simply too much for you. You could feel the heat in your cheeks.
“Y/N,” you breathed, eyes bouncing between the two beautiful boys.
“Y/N,” Sirius repeated. “Beautiful,”
The blush in your cheeks was absolutely blazing at this point, and it was all you could do not to hold the book over your face.
“Well, if you’re all done, Picasso, we’re gonna be late for practice,” Sirius sighed, picking up the most recent drawing and giving a complimentary nod towards the picture and the subject in front of them. “Though I do think she’d have a bit more of a tummy, those adorable little cheeks of hers can’t be the only extra there.”
“See?” James said, turning back to you. “Anyway, suppose I’ll see you tomorrow then.”
“I’ll be here,” you said quietly, watching their backs as they walked out of sight.
The next day, it was all you could do to get through your classes, to get back to the library in hopes James might talk to you again.
You needn’t be told you were hopeless; it was obvious.
In a moment of courage, you steeled your spine and chose the side opposite of James’.
Pulling out your Herbology textbook, you got to work on writing the essay about the Tentacula plant.
“You changed spots,” a deep, warm voice suddenly rang out. WIth your beat skipping into a frenzy, you looked up at James coyly. “Careful, with a look like that, you’ll get your very own page.”
Forcing yourself to breathe regularly and appear poised as though this occurred everyday, you decided to go for a playful response.
“You know, it is a bit weird,” you smirked, your tapping pencil the only giveaway of your nerves.
James pulled his seat out and sat across from you, smirking back. “What’s weird?”
“Drawing naked schoolgirls, without their knowledge. Bit voyeuristic,” you teased.
“It is not! I don’t actually spy on them while they’re naked, or doing anything naughty,” he added, winking at you.
You banged your knee on the table as his foot touched yours under the table. Blushing violently, you worked to quickly recover.
“Maybe not, but do you really think girls want you sketching what you think they look like naked?” you asked, setting down your pencil.
“Er,” James looked awkward for a moment, “yeah?”
You had to reward him with a small laugh.
“Besides, not as if I’m going round with them on display. Pads sees them, but it’s downright difficult to keep things from him, haven’t got the time. And you’ve seen them, but that’s just because you’re nosy,” he teased back, grinning slightly.
“I am not!” you hissed, offended.
“Are too! Been bloody watching me for years,” he grinned fully now, loving the way your blush lit your cheeks.
“Have not! Besides, I think you have a very skewed vision of women,” you said, straightening your papers haughtily, desperate to get the attention off you watching James.
“What?” he said, fully buying into your distraction.
“We don’t all look like that, you know, Sirius was right,” you grumbled.
“Sorry?” he scoffed, looking bewildered.
“It’s just,” you thought about how best to say it, “we don’t all look like bloody adult film stars. Breasts don’t usually sit like perfectly symmetrical balloons on the chest. Hip dips are a thing. Body hair? Women have it too, not all of us spend hours plucking ourselves bare.”
“Hang on,” James said, ruffling through his bag and pulling out a piece of parchment. “Alright, asymmetry, less perfection, hip dips, hair. This is good. This is what I was talking about. What else?”
He seemed hungry for how to improve, looking at you eagerly.
“I dunno, er, some women have a bit of a tummy, large thighs,” you wracked your brain for more, “I could probably show you better than I could tell you.”
As soon as the words left your mouth, your eyes grew in shock at your own forwardness. Hoping he would just think it a turn of phrase, you steeled yourself for his response.
He relaxed his quill and looked up from his notes.
“Show me, then,” he all but purred. Your heart sprinted at an unbelievable pace, your stomach bubbling nervously.
“Alright,” you breathed, surprising even yourself.
“Alright?” James repeated, his pupils blown instantly.
“Alright,” Sirius repeated cheerily, seemingly popping up out of nowhere. Jumping slightly, you cursed yourself and turned back to your books.
“You’ve really got to work on your timing, mate,” James huffed. Sirius looked put out at his friend’s reaction.
“Maybe if you could keep track of time yourself, I wouldn’t have to. Quidditch,” Sirius said, gesturing to the large clock on the wall; one of the many hands was Scarlett red and pointed at the Quidditch field.
Grumbling and stuffing the parchment into his bag, James turned back to you.
“Tonight, here, 2am,” he commanded.
“In the middle of the library?!” you whisper yelled. Laughing at your reaction, he waved you off.
“It’ll be empty, I’m sure of it,” he reassured you.
“What’s at 2 am?” Sirius asked quietly as the two of them walked away once more.
“Doesn’t matter,” James shrugged. “Listen, I need the library empty tonight, don’t ask questions…”
His voice trailed off as the two of them disappeared from view, and you couldn’t believe yourself as you sat alone with your courageous words.
Wrapping a scarlet satin robe around yourself a bit tighter, you silently paced the room as your bedmates slept on, the nervous energy reaching a height.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” you cursed at yourself, biting your lip anxiously.
You’d barely even had a full conversation with a man, let alone James. And now you were about to strip nude in the middle of the bloody library so he could sketch you?
Casting another nervous glance at the clock, you held your breath as the clock struck 1:50. Cursing quietly and half hoping he wouldn’t be down there, you began your descent down the spiral staircase and out of the common rooms into the drafty night. Hugging the walls, you kept a keen ear out for Filch and an eye peeled for his dreaded cat.
Finally, after 10 anxiety-filled minutes, you reached the library; your anxiety only increased tenfold.
Padding silently through the spacious room, you headed towards your corner.
“James?” you whispered in the darkness. No response. Steeling yourself this time for rejection, or his absence, you called out once more. “James!”
Suddenly, a hand touched the small of your back, and the other hand quickly came up to your mouth.
“Hello,” he whispered into your ear, causing a fresh wave of goosebumps to cover your skin. Moving his hand, you smacked his chest.
“You scared the bloody hell out of me,” you sighed. “What’s this?”
It seemed he’d brought one of the black velvet sofas to your section and had it catty-corner with the shelves, the smoldering fireplace in the background. The table seemed to be providing the light, with several candles lit on it.
“Thought you could lay across it,” he said, scratching the back of his neck.
“Alright,” you said, breath oddly becoming more calm as the moment came closer.
Turning around to see him for the first time that night, you nearly melted there. He had a simple shirt and trousers, but his sleeves were rolled up a couple times to expose his forehead, his hair looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed–as it always did. He seemed to be nervous as his hands fidgeted with different parts of himself. Sitting in the seat he placed facing the couch, he grabbed his parchment and splayed his pencils out on the table next to him.
“Whenever you’re ready, then,” he said, grabbing a pencil.
Taking a deep breath, you walked towards the couch and turned back towards him. Lifting your hands, you brought them up to the sash tying your robe together, and grabbed an end. Pulling, the robe fell open, and you shook it off your shoulders, standing utterly bare in front of James. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, pulling slightly at the crotch of his pants.
His reaction only boosted your ego, and you found yourself almost at ease.
“Draw me like one of your french girls, James,” you simpered, unable to miss out on the opportunity.
“My French girls?” he questioned. Remembering he was brought up in the Wizarding world and wouldn’t understand your reference, you waved it off. “Er, just, er, go ahead and lay across the couch.”
Lying slightly on your side, you began adjusting yourself when James began ordering your pose.
“Lay your arm like you had it,” he directed, and you moved how you thought he meant, but his facial expression told you that wasn’t it.
“Come pose me, James,” you whispered. It was hard for you not to speak seductively in such a setting. He cleared his throat once more.
“Alright,” he placed his parchment on his seat as he walked towards you, and you were pleased to see his trousers looked a bit tight.
He gingerly grasped your wrist and draped your arm over your head. His hand then went to adjust your knee, and you jumped slightly at what could only be described as electricity brushed your skin. Bending it slightly, he straightened out your other leg slightly and turned to your other arm, bending the elbow so that your fingers lay against your head.
It was all you could to not point out the irony.
“Perfect,” he said under his breath, clearly assuming you couldn’t hear.
He took back his seat and bent over his parchment, his wrist moving slightly as he began his sketch.
The library was utterly silent aside from the flickering of the flames and James’ pencil as it moved across the page. After several minutes, you couldn’t take the silence.
“How’s it coming?” you asked quietly.
“You’ll see,” he smirked. “Now, stay still.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” you grinned slightly before relaxing your face once more.
His hazel eyes zeroed in on your chest as he drew, determined to do his muse justice.
“I see what you mean, about the asymmetry,” he murmured, almost to himself. Suddenly self-conscious, you began to adjust yourself.
“No, no,” he held up his hands to stop you. “It’s natural; it’s beautiful. Trust me, darling, the real thing is so much better.”
His words calmed you, and you shook your head slightly, trying to get out of it. Settling back into your old pose, you instead focused on James. It was odd, almost, seeing him sketch from the front. The way his head tilted when he was unhappy with something was accompanied by a furrowing of his brow, his eyes flitting quickly from you back to the page as he figured out what was wrong. His hazel eyes seemed almost brown in the darkness of the empty library. His breathing was steady, his face poised in what only could be described as intense concentration. He switched his legs back and forth as time wore on, shading more closely now–he must be finished with the linework.
“Move your hair forward a bit,” he directed, and you pushed your Y/C/H onto your face a bit, so that your fingers on your other hand brushed it.
His face returned to the intense concentration, and you suppressed a smile as his tongue poked out of his lips as he clearly focused on one detail.
Finally, his constant movements slowed, and he began to straighten his back more regularly, his eyes flitting back to you and the paper as he checked over his work.
“So?” you breathed, unable to hold yourself back any longer.
“I think this might be my best work yet,” he smiled lightly, his eyes now steadying on you more frequently. “Having a real model instead of an idea in my head is so much better.”
“So I don’t disappoint, then?” you asked, fully aware you were fishing.
“Disappoint?” he breathed, looking mildly bemused. “It’s all I can do to remain seated professionally in this chair right now.”
Your heart thrummed in your chest at his words.
After a few erasings and redo’s, he rolled his neck.
“All done, then?” you asked. He nodded, still studying his work. Sitting up, you rolled blood back into your stiff limbs. “Well, go on then, let’s see it.”
He stood up and walked over to the couch. Handing you the sketch, it took you several seconds to comprehend that it was you.
The woman in this photograph was stunning. Her curved, nude body quietly dominated the scene. The swell of her breast was accentuated by the sharp peak of the nipple as the cold castle air blanketed her body. The curvature of her hip contrasted greatly with the vague shadowing of her ribs as she stretched her body. Her legs draped along the couch like a string of pearls, eye-catching with a ghostly shine on the pale tone of her body. Her hair cascaded off the side of the couch like flowing water, shining in the candlelight. Her face told you she knew she was beautiful, she knew she had the full attention of the man in front of her, and she knew what to do with it. Her thin lips pulled into the slightest of smirks. Yet, her big Y/C/E eyes held an innocence in direct contrast with the confidence her entire face held. A quiet feminine dominance spilled from the page, infecting you.
This was a mythical siren, her beauty so enticing, so fully encapturing; how could anyone deny her?
“James…” you breathed, sudden tears beginning to pool behind your eyes. You sniffled, and he looked up in horror.
“Oh, Godric, you hate it,” he moaned, trying to pull the sketch from you.
The fact that you were still completely nude seemed long forgotten as you reached a hand up to pull his face back towards you. To make him see these were happy tears.
“This is really how you see me?” you asked, smiling softly with watery tears in your eyes.
“I can only draw what I see,” he answered.
“Oh, James,” you all but sobbed, wrapping yourself around him.
The feeling of his shirt on your bare breast was enough to shock you back into reality. Pulling back slightly, his hand on the small of your back was enough to keep you from pulling away entirely.
As if on cue, a candle on the table faded to blackness as the wax ran out. You didn’t need to look to see within seconds the rest would be out too. His eyes held you too intensely for you to look away. Reaching up, you traced his lips with a brush of the pad of your finger. As his eyes slid closed in temptation, yours fell to his sketch once more.
The woman in the drawing grinned coyly at you, her nude frame emboldening you just as the last candle burnt out, plunging a very naked you and James into complete darkness.
Pairings:Sirius Black x reader, Sirius Black x Gryffindor!reader, mauraders era! Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader Warnings:Language, slight bullying (?) Word Count:3,196
Y/N POV
“What does he want with me, though?” you hissed anxiously to Lily, adjusting your robes as you followed her. You’d never been invited to any ‘Slug Club’ events.
“Dunno, he’s alright, though. Little snobbish, but harmless,” she shrugged, leading the way.
“Maybe it has something to do with my gift,” you wondered aloud. “What if it has something to do with my gift?”
“I thought we were the only ones who knew about it?” Lily asked, turning to look at you with her bright, emerald eyes.
“Well, you, James, Sirius, Peter, Remus, McGonagall, and Dumbledore,” you said, frowning as you realized the number kept growing; you doubted how much longer you’d be able to keep it a secret.
“Maybe one of them let it slip? I mean, it’s not exactly an express secret, is it?” Lily asked.
“Not really. But if the whole school finds out I can push thoughts into people’s heads and potentially make them do things, well, I’d never get left alone,” you said. “And that’s the best-case scenario.”
“I suppose that’s true. We’re an understanding lot,” she grinned, turning to you as she slowed her pace.
“I’ll say; took in a psychic and a teenage werewolf. Maybe it isn’t compassion so much as it is a desperate need for adventure,” you teased.
“For Potter and Black? Undoubtedly a pathological need for adventure; me? Compassion, definitely compassion,” she teased back.
Stopping suddenly at a solid compartment door, she turned towards you and fluffed your hair.
“Alright, mum, thanks,” you sighed, swatting at her hands as they brushed your robes. Laughing at your comment, she pushed open the doors to expose a spacious compartment filled with about 8 people.
Groaning to yourself, your eyes first fell to Lucius Malfoy and Theodore Nott. Standing in the middle of them was Severus Snape, hair greasy as ever. His eyes followed Lily for a while until they met your icy glare.
“Malfoyand Snape?” you hissed, tugging on her robes, “I thought you said Slughorn was alright?”
“Lily! Hello, my dear!” Slughorn called jovially. At his words, every pair of eyes fell onto the two of you. “Oh, and I see you’ve brought the lovely, Y/N.”
“Hello,” you smiled sheepishly, not really sure what you were doing there.
“Well, now that we’re all here, shall we?” Slughorn said, gesturing to a round table with seats for all in the compartment.
Lily walked forward and chose a seat, you filled the one next to her. A Hufflepuff you recognized as Wendy Slinkhard sat next to you and gave you a small smile, which you returned.
“Have a good Holiday, Lucius?” Slughorn asked the blonde seated next to him.
“Excellent, Professor, excellent. My father sends his best,” he smiled graciously, his voice as oily as the hair of the boy next to him.
“Ah yes, Abraxas, good man,” Slughorn laughed, his belly falling up and down.
“Slimy git,” you whispered, causing a giggle to bubble from Lily’s lips. At your noise, Slughorn’s eyes fell to the two of you and broke into a great smile.
“Lily, Lily. Whispering again, are we?” he said, though there was no tone of scolding.
“Well, it’s just Malfoy mightget offended if I called him a slimy git to his face, sir.” Despite her words, she smiled serenely, and Slughorn let out a loud laugh.
“That he might, that he might,” he allowed, still laughing. Smugly, you turned to a highly annoyed Lucius and grinned.
“And you! Ms. Y/L/N! It’s a wonder we haven’t met yet,” Slughorn smiled, now turning to you.
“I’m in your Potions class, sir,” you said, slightly annoyed. Lucius and Theo snickered, and you shot them murderous glares.
“Ah, yes! I remember now, your Draught of Living Dead was almost as good as my two stars’!” he laughed, gesturing to Snape and Lily. “Sorry, so many students, you understand.”
“Almost,” you said, forcing a laugh out as Snape’s smug face swam before your own.
“You should see her charmwork, sir. She outdoes me every class,” Lily offered, smiling at you. It was true; where Lily was truly gifted in Potions, your subject was Charms.
“Yes, I’ve been hearing great things about Y/N, lots of great things,” he smirked. Lowering his voice dramatically, he leaned forward as much as his massive figure would allow. “Some of which are truly incredible. Is it true?”
Sighing, you knew he was referring to your gift.
“So much for a secret,” you pushed to Lily, eyes falling to the Slytherins. She gave a sympathetic shrug.
“Yes, it’s true,” you pushed, looking into Slughorn’s black eyes. He let out a great rip of laughter, and everyone in the compartment looked incredibly confused except Lily.
“Sorry, sir. But is what true?” a Ravenclaw boy you knew to be named Holden said.
“Y/N here is truly gifted. More so, I daresay, than anyone in this room.” Slughorn complimented, looking at you with a special glint in his eye. Your bruised ego was soothed as the Slytherins glared at you from across the small table. “Y/N here holds a gift I’ve seen in any capacity only once before.”
In front of you, you saw Snape straighten his back, and his face lost what little color it ever held.
“How?” Lucius snapped, “Sir?” he added as Slughorn’s head snapped to him.
“This is how you slimy git. You can hear this, can’t you? Well, no one else can. See, I can put my thoughts right into that empty blonde head of yours–I mean, seriously, it feels especially spacious up here.” you pushed, smiling maliciously at the icy blonde as his eyes were stuck open in horror. “I could make you do whatever I want, if I pleased, been working on it. And when I say whatever I want, I mean whateverI want. I wouldn’t push it, Malfoy.”
Lucius was looking at you in horror, mouth fallen open. Unlocking your eyes, they fell to Snape, who wore a look of mild interest.
“Would you like a taste, Snivellus?” you sneered, peering into Snape’s black eyes. He looked shocked for a moment but quickly recovered back to his constant glare.
“Lovely, isn’t she?” Slughorn laughed, having no idea you just threatened the Slytherins in front of you with mind control.
“Lovely,” Snape sneered, still looking at you. “Tell me, wherever did you learn such a thing?”
His tone was condescending interest, but behind the facade, you could see his eyes burning with envy.
“Didn’t. Born with it. The first time I did it, I was still in diapers,” you shrugged, loving the way this answer seemed to infuriate him more.
“Fascinating,” Slughorn breathed, his massive figure pressed against the table in interest. His gut spilled over onto the table, and you vaguely wondered whether he had much feeling around his massive midriff.
The rest of the train ride was spent in the compartment with Slughorn as he gushed about both previous and current students. It wasn’t long before you all felt the train begin slowing down, causing Slughorn to trail off.
“Ah! She’s slowing now, it seems. Best be off to your compartments!” he said. “Snape, Malfoy, Nott, I’ll see you later tonight? To welcome all the young new Slytherins?”
“Certainly, sir,” Nott said, smiling his awful smile as the group of them slithered from the room.
“Lily, dear, whenever you’re passing! Same for you, Ms. Y/L/N!” he called as the two of you made to leave.
“If I ever make it down to that wretched dungeon,” Lily teased, causing another great rip of laughter from Slughorn.
“Come now! You know you love that Potions room!” Slughorn called into the hall from his room.
From the semi-crowded hallway, Lily allowed a soft laugh as everyone returned to their compartments. Though, you didn’t make it too far before you were halted by an incoming Ravenclaw.
“Oi, Evans!” a tall, blonde boy called, coming to rest by her side. “Good Holiday?”
“Alright. What do you want, Boot?” she sighed. The boy looked shocked at her bluntness, and you shook your head. Boys fawned after Lily almost as girls did after Sirius, yet Lily’s suitors had much, much less luck. You understood, of course, Lily was gorgeous with flaming locks of hair and the brightest green eyes you’ve ever seen–but after a while, it started doing things to one’s self-esteem.
“Just wondered if you fancied a Hogsmeade trip?” the boy asked, leaning against the wall, trying to recover.
“The first one’s not for weeks,” she said, looking confused.
“I know, though I just might go ahead and ask. You know, before anyone else does,” the boy said, smirking down at her.
“Oh!” she said, looking shocked. “Like a date?”
The boy seemed to be losing confidence as Lily spoke, and you bit your lip to keep from giggling.
“Er, yeah. Like a date, if you want,” the Ravenclaw said, eyes falling to the floor.
“Oh, er. I’m sorry. No,” she said, smiling apologetically.
“Why not?” the boy asked, affronted.
“Because I said so, you git,” she responded, getting angry.
“You haven’t got a reason! Can’t just turn down a man without reason. Not like you have a boyfriend or anything,” he pouted, sounding more and more childish as he spoke.
“I do have a reason: I don’t want to. Besides, maybe I have got a boyfriend,” she said maliciously, her red hair shaking down her back as she angrily crossed her arms.
“Where the hell are you going with this?” you asked, confused. Lily ignored you.
“Oh yeah? Where is he then?” the boy asked, taking a step closer.
He was bold; you’d give him that. Super creepy, but bold.
“He doesn’t have to be with me all the time for me to say no to you,” she fired up. “No means no, you prick.”
Grabbing your hand, she made to walk away, but the boy caught her by the elbow.
“James!” Lily suddenly called out, putting a scared tone in her voice. It was purposeful, you knew. She loved to tease James, always giving enough lead to get him on it, but neverquiteenough.
Not even a second later, you saw James’ messy-topped head poke out of the compartment down the hall. At the sight of her and a male in such close quarters, he reached you in seconds. James’ eyes locked on the Raveclaw’s grip on her arm, and upon notice, the boy dropped her like she was poison.
“Oi!” he called, a dark look coming over his face. At the sound of his friend, Sirius’ curls came poking out a second later. A grin came over his face as he saw the determination in James’ step, and he followed, jogging to catch up. At the sight of James and Sirius approaching, the boy took a slight but noticeable step back.
“Oh, not so tough now, are we?” Lily snapped, walking to meet James. “He couldn’t take no for an answer. I told him I had a boyfriend, but…”
“Boyfriend?” James repeated, torn from his anger. The rolling waves that were just leaking from his essence turned to bright swirls, and you shook your head as you watched him look at her.
“Oh, shame on you, Lily. You know how he feels about you,” you pushed defensively; It was one thing to tease James, but the excitement rolling off of him was tangible. The cloud that would come when she shut him down once more would likely bring you down as well. That was one of the downsides of being psychic; others’ moods were genuinely infectious, for better or for worse.
“Oi, got a problem keeping your hands to yourself?” Sirius said, taking charge of the situation as his friend stared in shock at the redhead in front of him.
“Well, I didn’t think she was serious. Didn’t mean to hit on your girl, Potter.” the boy said, backing into the wall.
“Well, that’s not the point, is it?” James said, suddenly coming to his senses. Pulling Lily behind him protectively, you noticed how she gripped the top of his arm and rolled your eyes.
“Really laying it on thick, aren’t we?” you pushed, annoyed at her toying with James. She met your eyes with an identical glance, but she wasn’t the only irritated one here; you returned it.
“If she said no, she means no, you prick,” James said, advancing towards the boy.
Sirius took a step closer, smiling maliciously at the boy in front of him, and sensing danger, you too grabbed his arm like Lily had James’.
“Alright, come on, boys. I think he gets it,” you said, pulling Sirius back. You could feel the Quidditch games with James in his biceps.
“No, I think he could use a refresher,” Sirius said, taking another step forward but allowing your grip on his arm.
“Precisely what I was thinking, Padfoot,” James smiled at Sirius. Just before you physically stepped in between them, another voice sounded.
“Problem, boys?” Remus said, appearing behind you, stalling their advance.
“Yeah, Boot here never learned to keep his hands to himself,” Sirius said, backing from the boy considerably.
“Lily called, and I walked up to find him bodily restraining her,” James said, gesturing to the redhead behind him.
“Is that true?” Remus turned to the Ravenclaw.
“Bodily restraining?” the boy repeated, incredulous, “I just grabbed her arm!”
“So you were gripping her body, in a manner meant to restrain her?” Remus said, lowering his eyes. You found yourself staring; Remus’ anger was so seldom seen. The boy blushed with anger, but turned and left the group of you nonetheless.
“Come on, we’ve arrived,” Remus said, gesturing for the group of you to follow him and Peter.
Knowing a particularly interesting conversation was about to unfold, you let James and Lily go first, holding Sirius back,
“Hang on, trust me,” you pushed, smiling at him as he looked at you confusedly. He grinned back, and you swore your heart skipped a beat.
“What was that about?” James asked quietly. “You could’ve handled that. Hell, just last year, I watched you hex that 7th year Slytherin.”
“Dunno, though you might have liked to. Guess I was mistaken,” she shrugged, an airy tone in her voice.
“No!” James said hastily, “No, no. Of course, I’d like to–you just threaten to hex me as well every time I’ve tried.”
“Well, perhaps I was a bit hasty with you all these years,” she lilted ambiguously. Ahead, you saw Remus’ pace slow, and you knew he too was listening.
“What’s that mean?” James said, louder than he meant to. Excitement was beginning to leak out of him; you could feel it in the air around him; it was lighting color spots all over the compartment, like big, colored bubbles visible only to you.
Lily merely shrugged nonchalantly and smiled at him slightly.
“And don’t think I missed that part where you called me your boyfriend,” James continued on, determined to get her to reply.
“Yes, well, if you’re just going to continue telling people we’re together anyway, we might as well be, yeah?” Lily said, a small smile on her lips.
Practically dripping with emotion, James came to a complete stop. Being too wrapped up in the feelings exuding from James, you ran straight into him and nearly fell, Sirius catching you just in time as he was behind you.
“Oi, Prongs, the hell?” Sirius said, looking properly shocked, as though you hadn’tbeen listening in.
“Lily’s just called me her boyfriend,” James said, looking at Sirius with an expression of pure elation.
“Cheers, mate! That’s great, just when I was starting to think it’d never happen,” Sirius smiled, wrapping an arm around his friend.
“I’ve just agreed to date him after nearly 6 years of begging, and yet he embraces Sirius first,” Lily said, shaking her head at the boys before her.
“Sorry, Lils. I’mnumber one in James’ life,” Sirius said haughtily, releasing James but keeping a protective arm around his shoulders. James rolled his eyes, but grinned at Sirius.
“I can see that,” Lily laughed, rolling her eyes as well.
“Lovely as this is, mates, we’re stopping up the hall,” you said, turning around to glare at a Slytherin as she bumped into you.
Grabbing James’ hand, Lily pulled him away from Sirius, their robes billowing in their haste.
“You nosy girl,” Sirius teased, poking your side as you two made your way to the platform.
“Oi! Remus was listening too,” you defended, though you laughed.
As you neared the exit, the sound of pounding rain wafted through the doorway, the smell of warm, wet pavement following soon after.
“Why is it always bloody raining?” you grumbled, pulling the hood of your cloak over your Y/C/H hair.
“Fucks up my hair every year,” Sirius groaned, equally upset.
“Pads! Twitch! Come on!” James called, waving you all ahead.
The carriage carrying the four of them began moving, and you and Sirius held your breath, running into the rain, jogging to catch up. James held the door open for the two of you and grinned as Sirius grabbed his outstretched hand, pulling him into the carriage.
“Faster, Twitch!” Sirius yelled, a wide grin on his face as he held his hand out to you. Finally, your fingers wrapped around his hand and James grabbed your other, pulling you into the dry carriage.
“Gross,” you muttered, using your sleeve to dry your face.
“I thought you liked the rain?” Remus asked, looking teasing.
“I do,” you answered shortly. “Doesn’t mean I want to be out in it when it’s pouring bloody cats and owls.”
“Oh, I’m starving,” Peter whined, looking hopefully up at the castle, largely ignoring the conversation.
“How? You about bought out the trolley,” Sirius laughed, swaying slightly with the carriage. Peter turned to scowl at Sirius, who playfully grinned back.
“I bet Moony here is looking forward to dinner as well,” he then turned his attention towards Remus, nudging his knee.
“And why’s that?” Lily asked from her seat next to James.
“That pretty Ravenclaw he fancies always sits right behind him at meals,” Sirius smiled, jeering at a blood-red Remus.
“Oh, piss off,” he mumbled. Sirius let out a barking laugh and leaned forward.
“Oi, Moony, I’m just fucking with you, relax,” Sirius said. Your favorite goofy grin lit up his dark features, and you couldn’t look away. As you made your way up the hill to Hogwarts, the moonlight lit at his bone structure, highlighting his carved features. His dark hair was tucked behind his ear on the side closest to you, putting his cutting jawline on full display.
Suddenly, you felt a nudge against your foot and tore your eyes away from Sirius to find a smirking Lily. Blushing furiously as she’d caught you, you tilted your neck down and hid your face behind your hair.
“Finally,” Peter squeaked after a few minutes of idle chatter, hopping from his seat. The group of you followed, and you smiled up at the towering castle in front of you; you were home.
Pairings:Sirius Black x reader, Marauders x reader Warnings:none, slight language (but that’s for every chapter rlly) Word Count: 3,108
As if on cue, you heard a knock at the door just as your foot touched down onto the landing. The sound of quick, heeled footsteps sounded immediately after; Grandmother briskly coming down the hall followed by the slower steps of Blakely as he surely wanted to gaze curiously at your friends.
“Prongs!” you breathed upon seeing James, smiling fondly at the messy mop of black hair atop your friend’s head.
“Twitchy!” he smiled back, opening his arms in greeting. You wasted no time in falling into them, smiling into his chest as his hug signaled the true return to Hogwarts.
“Mrs. Killianis,” James said, suddenly formal as he looked to your severe grandmother behind you. Following his gaze, you saw her eyes narrowing as Sirius and Remus all but fell out of the car, Peter’s wheezing laughter following them out.
You smiled fondly after them as Remus brushed the dirt from his knees, frowning up at Sirius. Sirius grinned back and ran a hair through his raven black hair, brushing it from his eyes.
“Hello, Mrs. Killianis,” Sirius said, his voice taking on a tone you’d never heard before. You and James glanced warily at each other.
“Hello, boys,” she said stiffly, her eyes now staring rudely at the scars littering Remus’ exposed skin.
Remus cleared his throat, clearly catching your grandmother’s eyes. “Shall we get your trunk then?” he said, clapping his hands together as he smiled at you.
You offered him a sympathetic smile and pushed an apology into his head at your grandmother’s rudeness.
“That’d be great, Moony, thanks.” you nodded. Peter followed him up into your room dutifully. After a moment or two, you heard what sounded like a reprimanding noise followed by a sharp smack and idly wondered what was going on.
“I suppose you’ll be staying at the school for the Holidays again, yes? Blakely and I were planning a trip,” Grandmother said suddenly–it didn’t take a genius to figure out you weren’t invited.
“Definitely,” you answered briskly. The choice between a Hogwarts Christmas with the boys and a visit to Grandmother’s sister’s house in the States with Blakely was a no-brainer.
“Lovely thing Hogwarts does, providing a home for the holidays,” James grinned, putting an emphasis on ‘home.’ Grandmother lowered her eyes, but Remus and Peter were already coming down the stairs, hauling your heavy trunk between them.
“Bloody hell, Twitch,” Remus huffed, blowing his thin brown hair out of his eyes, “What’d you pack?”
“Mind your tongue, boy,” Grandmother snipped as the two of them passed through the front door. “You won’t behave like the heathensthat you are in my presence.”
“Er,right,” Sirius scoffed, rolling his eyes and laughing under his breath. “C’mon, Twitch, don’t want to be late.”
Eager to leave the situation, you quickly followed the boys out and made your way into the baking heat. Just as they made to load your trunk, you clucked your tongue as Peter fumbled his end and dropped it roughly into the undoubtedly magically enhanced trunk.
“Sorry,” Peter winced, rubbing his hands together in an anxious sort of way.
“S’Alright Wormtail. Now, shall we get a move on, then?” James said, using his wand to swing open the car door for you. You heard your grandmother let out a small gasp, and Blakely took a step back. As most parents took the time to drop their children off at Platform 9 ¾, the journey there was generally a sort of grace period if you wanted to use magic; the Ministry wouldn’t take the time to differentiate each use of magic on this day between parents and students. Per wizarding law, they’d never seen magic as you didn’t use it during your time here–aside from your special gift.
“Please,” you said, turning to leave without glancing back.
“You aren’t going to say goodbye?” you heard Remus ask. You turned to answer him before you slipped into the car, but he wasn’t talking to you.
“Excuse me?” Grandmother said, clearly affronted he was saying anything more than ‘hi’ and ‘bye.’
“Honestly, Moony, just let it alone,” Sirius moaned as he made his way back out of the car to gather him.
“You aren’t going to see your granddaughter for 9 months, surely you’re going to at least say goodbye?” Remus pressed on, equally affronted. Sirius took a step closer to his friend, and you saw your grandmother’s eyes fall upon the several tattoos that already littered his arms; Sirius lived to upset his family, and tattoos were such a Muggle form of rebellion it only bolstered his point.
Her eyes then fell to the both of their wands, which were gripped tightly in their hands, and let out a breath she’d been holding. Lowering her eyes but acquiescing nonetheless, she sighed.
“Goodbye, then,” she said stiffly, nudging Blakely, who was locking eyes with a mischievous looking Sirius. Glancing behind Blakely’s head, you saw a dish hovering dangerously above his head and looked to see Sirius’ wand pointed right at it. Rolling your eyes, you pushed the dish back with your own and threw a knowing grin at Sirius.
“Naughty, naughty boy,” you said silently. He grinned back boyishly at you and threw you a wink.
“See you next summer,” Blakely allowed, lowering his eyes at you and grinning in an awful sort of way. You could’ve sworn you heard a growl on your right and found Remus glaring at Blakely, who swallowed harshly and disappeared back into the house. At that, you slipped into the front seat next to James, the rest of the boys piling into the backseat, Remus scolding Sirius for shoving Peter out of the way to get in first. Fondly, you smiled and listened to them bicker.
“Merlin, glad that’s over.” Remus shook his head as James smoothly pulled away from the house. “Don’t know how you do it all summer.”
“Aw, what’s the matter, Moony? Not a big fan of familial tension, are we? I think it’s rather quite nice; reminds me of home,” Sirius said with a fake voice of longing. James looked through the rearview mirror and rolled his eyes at Sirius.
“Muggles giving you hell again?” Peter squeaked from the backseat, grabbing the head of your seat and leaning up towards you.
He’d always been a mousy boy, but after his first successful transformation, his commonalities with his Animagi only became more pronounced.
“When do they not, Wormtail?” you laughed, throwing a gum wrapper at him playfully as you popped a piece into your mouth.
“Ooh, is that gum?” Sirius asked, peering over your shoulder from the backseat.
“Yes, but it’s Muggle-gum.” you reminded him.
“Bit boring, but it’ll do. Jamesy won’t let me smoke in the car,” Sirius sneered, looking amusedly at an annoyed-looking James in the mirror.
“It smells! Isn’t my fault Dad has the nose of a bloody hound,” he defended, looking disgruntled at the thought of being a do-gooder.
“Good ol’ Fleamont, what a chap,” Sirius laughed, spreading out on the backseat and draping his arm along the seats. He reached and affectionately gave Remus’ hair a tussle, jostling Peter in the process, who grinned.
“So, now that we’ve all been reminded how horrible my lovely grandmother is, how was everybody else’s Holiday?” you asked as James drove the car expertly around the busy London streets–Muggle driving was a skill he was particularly proud of.
“Oh, you know, wonderful as always. Mother only threatened to have me disenfranchised and disgraced twice this year, so that’s a mark better than last Holiday.” Sirius laughed, blowing bubbles with his gum but frowning in disappointment when they popped.
“Didn’t you go to Prongs’ early this year?” you asked, remembering James’ letter that Sirius had arrived a few weeks into break.
“Yeah, don’t know why the evil hag insists on having me around anyway. All she does is dote on Regulus and send the nearest object flying at my head. Don’t even get me started on Kreacher…I don’t think I’ll go back next year.” a dark look came over his features, and you found yourself staring at him.
“What?” you asked, shocked at the nonchalant tone of his serious words.
“Yeah, I didn’t so much go to Prongs’ early this year as I did run away,” he said, looking slightly sheepish as you looked accusingly at him.
“What? What happened? Why didn’t you tell me?” you gasped, turning in the front seat entirely to glare at him.
“Dunno, I mean, I’m telling you now, aren’t I?” he shrugged.
“Well, go on then, tell me more,” you insisted.
“Just more of the same Twitch. You don’t understand,” he paused, and his usual carefree, light demeanor vanished and was taken over by a dark cloud that seemed to fill the car. “That house, it’s like a black hole. It swallows you whole. It’s like a bloody residential dementor. Every decent thought you have gets sucked into the black wallpaper, every horrible thought you’ve ever had on repeat, magnified. I can’tbreathe in that house; they’re all so cozy, so comfortable in that dark, that evil. The Noble House of Black, it’s killing me slowly, draining the life out of me.”
He seemed aware of how much he was saying, how serious he’d gotten, because, at the end of the little speech, he let out a deep breath and forced a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck subconsciously.
“Nothing like Prongs’ here, for example,” he grinned up at his friend, who shot him one from the mirror.
“I mean, you basically already lived there,” James shrugged. “Besides, Mum was thrilled–you know, I think she likes you better than me sometimes.”
“Oh, she definitely does, mate. Euphemia and me? Kinda besties,” Sirius grinned, and the dark cloud dispersed. You found yourself staring at Sirius, chest full of emotion. The quickness with which he dismissed himself was almost worse.
“And, Moony? How was yours?” James asked, filling the silence.
“Decent, I suppose. Though I’ve almost worked my way through every decent book worth reading at the library closest to home, all the rest are the silly little Muggle books in that dingy section they have in the back…though I started reading this one called the ‘Bible’; Merlin does it tell some truly fantastic tales…whales eating people, turning water to wine, healing the blind–this Jesus bloke even rose from the dead! I reckon he was some type of early wizard or something, don’t know how the Muggles don’t…” he trailed off while the rest of you shared knowing glances. Moony was prone to monologues full of on-the-spot thinking, constantly prattling on about something he’d read in some book.
“You’re doing it again,” you shot a meaningful look at Remus, who blushed scarlet at your mental words and trailed off.
“Hey, no fair!“ Sirius whined from the back seat at you. "I wanted to see where he was going with that. There definitely could’ve been something in there well worth making fun of!”
“Opportunity missed, Padfoot.” James hissed in sympathy at his friend, smiling at him in the rearview mirror.
“You all leave Moony alone. Just because he gets abnormally excited about really obscure Muggle things doesn’t mean we get to make fun of him for it,” you shot a smile at Remus in the back seat, who rolled his eyes but nonetheless smiled around sheepishly.
“How was your summer, James?” Peter asked from the backseat, leaning up hopefully.
“Alright, my parents set up a little Quidditch pitch in the back; Sirius got his arse handed to him a couple times,” James smirked, throwing a playful grin at his best friend in the backseat.
Wormtail laughed gleefully at James’ story as he described a match while Sirius sat up indignantly, poised to argue.
“I’m a Keeper, Potter. Not a sodding Seeker. Not too quick to tell everyone how miserable you were at trying to get the Quaffle in, though, are you?” Sirius quipped from the backseat.
“Down, boy. We all know how great of a Keeper you are, wouldn’t have won that last match against Ravenclaw without you..” you pushed into Sirius’ head, stroking his bruised ego. He met your eyes in the rearview and smirked up at you, clearly appeased by your comment. Lounging lazily once more in the roomy backseat, he turned to Peter.
“What about you, Wormtail? Your Holiday good?” Sirius said, cocking his head at his friend with a mischievous glint in his eye.
“S’alright..” he trailed off, looking around nervously as Sirius grinned at him.
“Really? Didn’t miss having Prongs’ arse to kiss?” he sneered at his friend, who blushed and stuttered.
“Let him alone, Pads,” Remus smiled at his friend from across the seats.
Just as the boys began to bicker more harshly, James pulled into the parking lot at Kings Cross, and the group of you piled out of the car.
“Wormtail, go find us a trolley,” Sirius said, and with a wave of his hand, Peter was gone.
“Obedient little bugger, isn’t he?” Remus said praisingly, rubbing his chin.
“Why d’you think he’s made it this long?” Sirius laughed, lifting his trunk out of the car as Peter came wheezing around with the trolley.
“I’ve got it, Y/N,” Peter said, exerting tremendous effort to lift your trunk until Remus saw him and reached in to help.
“Thanks, Peter…always so helpful.” you pushed to him in thanks. You saw him blush violently and smile to himself.
Your gift had taught you many things, but perhaps above all: people were so easily manipulated, one well-timed compliment, and it could send a person fawning. Though you weren’t shy to use it to your advantage, it was lucky a person of your moral stature had the gift. It could be so easily used…perhaps it was thoughts like these that led to the Sorting Hat’s consideration of your placement in Slytherin.
Half an hour later, your trunks were placed in the train’s storage carriages, and the group of you were lounging in a compartment, your various pets making random noises as they settled in for the long train ride.
Jinx hooted sleepily in his cage before lifting his wing and drifting off to sleep. Sirius’ handsome jet-black Screech Owl, BamBam, seemed to take a cue from Jinx and buried his head into his wing as well. They almost resembled salt and pepper shakers as they stood next to one another in direct contrast. To most everyone’s intense surprise, Remus’ pet was a fluffy siamese cat named Cleo. Unsurprising, however, was Peter’s choice of a pet rat named Nibbles. Though, Nibbles was on his last leg–most common rats only lived a couple of years, and Nibbles had been with Peter since first year.
“What’re you doing?” Peter asked, sitting up interestedly in his seat as Sirius drew out his wand and flung open the compartment door.
“Having some fun,” Sirius shrugged, the grin you all loved so much donning his face. James watched his friend and broke into a smile; Peter seemed to be struggling to sit still with excitement; even Remus peered over the top of his book to watch.
Fully aware he was holding all of your attention, Sirius pointed his wand at the wall opposite your door.
“Carpe Retractum,” Sirius said, and a length of rope came spouting out at the end of his wand. “Bollocks…what’s that one to get something to stick to something else?” he asked into the compartment after a moment.
“Epoximise,” Remus answered from behind his book once more, seemingly having seen everything he needed to.
“Right, cheers, Moony,” Sirius smiled and did the incantation, sticking the other end of the rope to the wall. Pulling on his wand, he seemed to test his theory and smiled in success as the rope pulled taught–effectively making a tripwire.
“Very nice,” you complimented, to which you received a playful little bow of his head.“Might I suggest something, though?”
“By all means, Twitch,” Sirius said, gesturing to the tripwire.
“Omnino dissimulare,” you spoke, pointing your wand at the length of rope. As the white beam of light hit it, the rope disappeared from view, and you smiled triumphantly. You’d been working hard on that one towards the end of last term and were worried you’d have to start over with the holiday break.
“Excellent!” Peter cheered, clapping wildly at the two of you.
“Where’d you learn that?” Remus said, finally putting his book down and looking at you curiously.
“Been working on it for a bit. Found it in a book Madam Pince let me take home last Christmas,” you answered, feeling a bit smug that you’d impressed Remus.
“Pince let you take home books?” Remus said, incredulous.
“You know she pities me,” you laughed, waving a hand. “Though, she did threaten to turn me inside out if there was so much a creased page–so only marginally.”
“Wait, wait!” Sirius called, pointing to the door excitedly; Peter was positively quivering.
A group of already-robed Slytherins came strolling past your window, and you smiled in anticipation. At the last second, Sirius jerked his wrist and tightened the rope, sending the group of Slytherins sprawling across the floor.
The group of you exploded into laughter, and they all got to their feet, whipping their wands out, looking for a culprit. Given the rope was invisible, however, they found no such thing and resigned to giving the group of you ugly looks before grumping off.
“Oh, very good, Padfoot,” Peter simpered, laughing heartily as tears of joy rolled down his plump cheeks.
“A little juvenile,” Remus scolded, smiling ruefully at his friends, “But funny. However, as a Prefect, I am not to indulge in such behavior and as such must sincerely reprimand you.”
“Most eloquently spoken, dear Moony. Tell me, does being a Prefect mean you have to be just a bit of a prat on principle?” James asked his friend, painting a serious look on his face as Sirius and Peter erupted into laughter. You let out a small giggle as Remus blushed slightly and put down his book.
“Well, you should sure as hell hope not,” Remus began, smiling mischievously at his friend. “Imagine fawning after Lily Evans for years, at her often utter disgust, only for her to end up being a prat. Talk about unfortunate, mate.”
The group of you were in stitches over Remus’ response, and even James let out a laugh.
“Touche, Moony. Touche,” he laughed, shaking his finger at Remus in a playful manner. A warm feeling spread through you; you were so happy to finally be going home.
Request: “James Potter falling for his sweet gay Ravenclaw tutor?”
—–
James Potter had never really been all that concerned with his grades. Brewing potions practically ran in his blood and he was a natural study when it came to Transfiguration and Charms, but apparently skating by with decent grades in most of his classes didn’t mean that McGonagall wasn’t willing to remove him from the Quidditch team if he was failing a class, even if it was one as pointless as Muggle Studies tended to be. He’d asked what he could do to avoid being barred from the team, but Minnie’s response had been a deadpan “find a way to raise your grade” and suggested that he look into finding a tutor before the test the following week.
His first thought had been to ask Evans, but he’d abandoned that idea almost immediately when he thought about how awkward it’d been between them since they’d broken up a few months prior. Then he thought of Remus, but he knew that meant that Sirius would be around and if Sirius was around then they’d be too busy planning their next prank to get any studying done at all.
Once he realized that looking for a tutor outside of Gryffindor was probably for the better, the answer to his problem made itself obvious. He slung his messenger bag over his shoulder as he headed for the portrait hole.
You were in James’ year, but not in very many of his classes, since you tended to prefer the more academically inclined classes, while he stuck with pretty much anything else. He’d run into you several times though as you were leaving the library or one of your classes and he was running from Filch or one of the professors after a prank. He couldn’t say that he knew you well, but he knew enough to not be surprised when the Marauder’s Map led him to a small table hidden behind several towering bookcases in one corner of the library.
As James rounded the corner you looked up from one of the massive tomes spread out before you, visibly puzzled by his presence and seeming even more befuddled as he dropped into the seat across from you and set his book bag in front of him.
“Um, hello?” you said slowly, brows furrowed as you looked at him. “Can I help you with something?”
James smiled, that same mischievous grin he always had when something was going exactly as he’d hoped, “Well, now that you mention it, I could reallyuse some help with my Muggle Studies homework.”
The unimpressed look on your face wasn’t exactly what James had been expecting though, “I’m not doing your homework for you, Potter.”
James blanched, waving his hands in front of him frantically, “No, no, no, you’ve misunderstood me.” He laughed, flustered by the assumption, “Honestly, I just need some help. I missed some classes and now I don’t understand what’s being covered. Their world is so different from what I know it’s like another language.”
“So you just need a… translator?” You asked, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
He nodded slowly, an embarrassed flush prickling at his cheeks. “I mean, I was going to say tutor, but yeah. I suppose I should’ve just led with asking you like a normal person, shouldn’t I?”
“That would’ve probably worked a little better, yes,” you replied with a grin, “But lucky for you, you’re cute and I’m feeling generous, so I’ll help you anyway.”
James’ eyes widened and he moved to push up his glasses to hide his darkening blush, “You think I’m cute?” He fumbled with the clasp on his book bag and pulled out the first textbook he touched.
He hadn’t ever really thought about other people romantically aside from Lily Evans before they’d gotten together, but ever since the break-up he found himself attracted to guys as well as girls. But to hear that people- that you- had had similar thoughts about him-
“Tell you what,” James started, lips twitching up into a pleased grin as he tousled his hair, “You help me pass Muggle Studies so McGonagall doesn’t boot me from the Quidditch team, and I’ll take you out for butterbeer on the next Hogsmeade trip? Maybe, um, maybe as a date? If that’s something you’d want too?”
“Sure, Potter,” you said, “I’ll let you take me out. But, uh, if you want to pass Muggle Studies, you might need a book other than your Transfiguration textbook.” You bit out a quiet chuckle as you nodded toward the book in his hands, before turning back to your own schoolwork.
James flushed further as he realized that he really had grabbed the wrong book- too busy trying to woo you to pay attention to the details. “My bad,” he said. James retrieved the right book and forced himself to keep his eyes on the page, even as much as he wanted to look up at you. Maybe having you as a tutor wasn’t going to be great for his grades, but when he chanced a look up at you and found you smiling at him, he knew it would be worth it either way.
“the saddest thing is to be a minute to someone, when you’ve made them your eternity.” - Sanober Khan
warnings: none
“What are you staring at?” James asked with a laugh, his dark eyes running along your face looking for a clue as to what was so interesting.
“Just lost in thought, as usual, I suppose.” Honestly, you were lost in James Potter- not that you would’ve let him know. It was your best-kept secret that you relished in his compliments and grinned at the thought of his name.
“Well, get unlost- it’s been ages since we’ve gotten together just, you and me,” James teased, bumping your arms gently.
You grinned, looking down at your ice cream sundae. It felt like lifetimes ago that you and James started the weekly tradition of getting ice cream sundaes together to ensure that you’d never grow apart. With exams, different friend groups, and your seventh year approaching, the two of you had put the tradition on hiatus. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for James to ask you to join him for ice cream.
“Very well, I’ll find my way out of all my thoughts, but only because it’s for you,” you joked, stealing a dollop of whipped cream from James’s sundae. “Now, catch me up on everything- Sirius and Remus’s sexual tension, Peter’s newest obsession, and your mum’s latest gossip.”
“Or you can give me the spectacular, award-winning y/n advice that you always seem to have on hand?” James gave you a soft pleading pout, his dark eyelashes fluttering dramatically.
“Healer y/n is in session, but only if you have your mum make payasam the next time I come over,” you bargained, extending your hand out for James to shake.
“Such extreme terms, but I suppose I’ll accept,” James played along, placing his hand in yours and shaking it professionally. “So, great healer y/n, what do you think love is?”
Your breath stilled for a moment, and you felt the cool metal of the spoon slip from your fingers as you attempted to fully wrap your head around James’s words.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t think it’d catch you that off-guard,” James chuckled in an uncharacteristically awkward manner. “We can just- you know, we can just start over.”
Ithad caught you off-guard; the two of you had always been cautious to avoid walking the line between friends and something more. You and James rarely talked about matters of the heart, despite his liking towards Lily Evans being such a large part of his life. Though, you supposed it was long overdue that you and James shared the more intimate areas of each other’s lives.
“No, it’s okay,” You quipped casually, despite your racing heart and warming temperature. “I guess, for me, love is being there for someone, despite knowing that there are some pieces of them you’ll never understand. I don’t think it’s quite unconditional or unquestioning, but it is grounded in trust and faith.”
The kitchen unexpectedly felt smaller, your heartbeat feeling quicker and louder with each second that James just stared back at you with an unreadable expression. It felt strangely nauseating and liberating to talk to James without much care about overstepping boundaries and speaking so earnestly.
“Do you think I’m a fool for loving Lily? I just- there is something about her, or maybe me, that says I can’t just give up on her. I know Sirius, Remus, and Pete think that it’s about the chase or it’s some school-boy crush- I just want advice?” His words were a mess of questions and statements, and with each coded sentence, your heart began to feel weighed down by his words.
You, of course, knew about Lily Evans. And, you knew that this was where the question was really leading to. “Honestly?” You questioned, pushing aside the sundae to look at the hopeless romantic.
“Complete honesty, y/n.” It was all the confirmation that you needed to hear.
“Honestly, I think that you’re someone great; someone who gives everything they have to the people they love. You’ve matured and have shown that you’re more than your ego and pranks. I- You’re great, James,” you rambled, your words free of filtration and flowing faster than your mind. “Love isn’t presenting everything you have to someone, then realizing it’s not enough, so you force yourself to change or deliver some guarantee that you have more to offer.”
“Maybe it’s just not love yet, maybe it’s just a could-be love,” James urged, his curls sways as he shook his head. “How do I know when to stop hoping that things will turn out a certain way with someone?”
“When you realize that’s the thoughts of ‘what-ifs’ consume you- when you realize that it’s hopeless- when you realize that he’s too lost in someone else to notice you,” you argued back, your mind drunk of the freedom of talking to James without carefully thinking through each thought. “I understand you completely, but at the same time, I don’t understand you at all.”
James faltered, his eyes scanning the way you held yourself and how your eyebrows knit together. “You like someone, don’t you?” James asked, his shoulders dropping at the thought of being so wrapped up in himself he forgot about you.
“Yeah, I do.”
“I’m sorry that you understand me,” James half-heartedly joked, running a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry that you don’t understand,” you sighed, the confidence you held for a minute leaving you as quick as it had come.
James cocked his head to the side like a puppy, your words not quite clear enough for him to decipher. “I don’t- what do you mean?”
“I mean, I wish you realized how great you are. I wished you would stop trying to reach what you think are Lily’s expectations, and honestly, I wish you would just clear your mind of Lily for a minute,” you lamented.
“What-what is someone great isn’t enough for Lily?” James asked, his focus darting towards the melting chocolate ice cream in front of him.
“Then, she’s not the brightest witch to grace Slughorn’s classroom because you’re enough for anyone,” you burst out, your heart aching at the sight of confident James Potter so defeated.
“Everyone deserves a y/n in their life,” James grinned, looking up at you, and for a moment just seeing you for all of you. All of your nuanced actions toward him, all of the compliments you’d given him, all of your looks. For just a moment, everything had cleared, and he understood you completely.
It was your turn to ask, “James, what are you looking at?”
“You,” James confessed, his heart shattering at the sight of you smiling inquisitively.
“What?”
“I’ve been so blind- you like- I mean, you love-”
“James, stop,” you begged as your heart dropped to your stomach. “Just stop because I know myself, and I know I can’t hand whatever sweet apologies you’ll provide me.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry, but I just- I can’t not love her,” James floundered, grabbing your wrist as you attempted to make your escape. “It’s the way she lights up every room with a genuine smile, how the corners of her eyes crinkle when she says my name and the way she manages to take my breath like it’s the first time I’ve ever seen her.”
“Let me go, James,” you begged, your cheeks wetted by tears you’d been holding in since the moment you realized you were wishing on a dying star. “I get it- I know how you feel, and I swear that if you let me go, I’ll let you go.”
Then, as if it were the simplest thing to do, his hand dropped, and you were free from him. It was everything you wanted at that moment, but it was also everything you wished he hadn’t done.
“To hold onto you when I know I’m not going to feel that way about you is wrong, and you deserve space. You deserve closure,” James explained, watching your heart break and your eyes dim as his warmth left your arm. “You deserve someone great.”
my fave boy who makes corny jokes to see his friends’ faces light up, has no long routine but still manages to have the softest and sweetest smelling hair, loves to give hugs and hold hands, & forces down the horribly loop sided and burnt cake sirius made from scratch for him on this special day <3
Imagine James falling asleep in your lap instead of studying…
You’re sitting in your favourite spot in the Gryffindor common room, sunk into the cushions of the couch with the fire roaring in front of you, warming you up from the chill in the air. You’re reading a book, absentmindedly running your fingers through James’ hair.
He’s head was resting in your lap as he read from his potions textbook, trying to finish off the assignment that was due tomorrow. You lightly scratch at his scalp, his messy curls tangling around your fingers as you drag them back and forth.
When the textbook clatters to the floor loudly you jump, startled away from your own book. James’ breathing evens out, his lips just parted, his eyes closed. You smile, shifting yourself back into a position that was more comfortable, focusing back on the paragraph that you’d been reading before.
“So much for studying hmm Jamie,” You chuckle, going back to running your fingers through your boyfriends hair.
Imagine being there when James wakes up in the hospital wing…
You brush your thumb over the back of James’ hand, his skin warm to the touch. He was still passed out cold, his left eye black and swollen, his bottom lip split. Under the blanket covering him his cracked ribs were wrapped tight.
When Gryffindor played Slytherin it was always intense, both houses out to prove which of them was the best each and every game. You loved watching James play, seeing the joy on his face when he was up in the air…
But you hated seeing him get hurt and this time he got hurt more than usual. It all happens within a matter of minutes, your whole body reacting as James falls off his broom after being deliberately knocked into. When he hits the ground the other Gryffindor’s in the stand start yelling and cursing out the Slytherin team. There’s a hard lump in the back of your throat as you start pushing yourself out of the stands and towards the field. James hadn’t gotten back up yet and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Madam Pomfrey fixed him up, telling you he just needed some rest as she moved over to the next bed. You sit next to your boyfriend, watching the way his lashes moved on the tops of his cheeks, his glasses sitting on the table beside his head. You look up as Sirius walks in, still in his quidditch robes and covered in mud. He looks at you, then at James, wincing at his friends injuries.
Imagine being there when James wakes up in the hospital wing…
You brush your thumb over the back of James’ hand, his skin warm to the touch. He was still passed out cold, his left eye black and swollen, his bottom lip split. Under the blanket covering him his cracked ribs were wrapped tight.
When Gryffindor played Slytherin it was always intense, both houses out to prove which of them was the best each and every game. You loved watching James play, seeing the joy on his face when he was up in the air…
But you hated seeing him get hurt and this time he got hurt more than usual. It all happens within a matter of minutes, your whole body reacting as James falls off his broom after being deliberately knocked into. When he hits the ground the other Gryffindor’s in the stand start yelling and cursing out the Slytherin team. There’s a hard lump in the back of your throat as you start pushing yourself out of the stands and towards the field. James hadn’t gotten back up yet and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Madam Pomfrey fixed him up, telling you he just needed some rest as she moved over to the next bed. You sit next to your boyfriend, watching the way his lashes moved on the tops of his cheeks, his glasses sitting on the table beside his head. You look up as Sirius walks in, still in his quidditch robes and covered in mud. He looks at you, then at James, wincing at his friends injuries.
Imagine being there when James wakes up in the hospital wing…
You brush your thumb over the back of James’ hand, his skin warm to the touch. He was still passed out cold, his left eye black and swollen, his bottom lip split. Under the blanket covering him his cracked ribs were wrapped tight.
When Gryffindor played Slytherin it was always intense, both houses out to prove which of them was the best each and every game. You loved watching James play, seeing the joy on his face when he was up in the air…
But you hated seeing him get hurt and this time he got hurt more than usual. It all happens within a matter of minutes, your whole body reacting as James falls off his broom after being deliberately knocked into. When he hits the ground the other Gryffindor’s in the stand start yelling and cursing out the Slytherin team. There’s a hard lump in the back of your throat as you start pushing yourself out of the stands and towards the field. James hadn’t gotten back up yet and it left a horrible feeling in the pit of your stomach.
Madam Pomfrey fixed him up, telling you he just needed some rest as she moved over to the next bed. You sit next to your boyfriend, watching the way his lashes moved on the tops of his cheeks, his glasses sitting on the table beside his head. You look up as Sirius walks in, still in his quidditch robes and covered in mud. He looks at you, then at James, wincing at his friends injuries.
“Hasn’t woken up yet?”
“Madam Pomfrey said it wouldn’t be long, he’s just resting.”
Sirius nods his head, rubbing his knuckles. You notice the slight bruising, knowing that Sirius wouldn’t have let what happened go easily. Normally you don’t agree with fighting of any kind, but after what happened you can’t help but think that that Slytherin got everything they deserved.
“What happened with the rest of the game?” You ask.
“Called off,” Sirius rolls his eyes. “The slimy git called foul after I socked him, most of both teams are in detention for the next week.”
“Sirius -”
“Don’t worry Pads, we’ll show em next time.”
James’ voice pulls both of your attention, his eyes blinking slowly in the bright light. You pass him his glasses, taking his hand again as he winces in pain. You give him a soft smile as he squeezes your hand, using your free one to brush his unruly hair back away from his face.
“I was worried about you,” You say quietly.
“That was my plan all along,” James jokes, cringing as he coughs.
“Right… you planned for Rosier to knock you from your broom.”
“How else was I going to get you to give me the attention I need.”
You shake your head, leaning down to press a chaste kiss to his lips, careful not to bump him too much. James smiles as you pull back.
