imaginejamesandsirius

[imaginejamesandsirius]

James and Sirius are so beautiful together. I want to ask, if you have time, of course. Would you mind writing a story about james starting to call Sirius by a different pet name every day to get Sirius' attention. But, Sirius, even if he loves it, he plays it cool. Fluff and getting together

((Note: Read below or on AO3!))

“What the hell, Potter?” comes an enraged yell from across the Great Hall. James looks up to see Sirius Black storming towards the Gryffindor table with red and gold stripes replacing the usual green and silver on his tie. He snickers.

Remus tries to hide his amusement. “James, it’s the second day of school.”

James shrugs. “Which is why I used a second-year charm to torment him today. If he’d stop to think for half a second, he could easily solve the problem with the counter-charm.” He ignores Remus and Peter’s disbelieving scoffs and smiles innocently at Black when he reaches them. “Alright there?”

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snaps, grey eyes flashing. 

“It’s a second-year spell, Black, bloody hell. Just fix it yourself if it bothers you so much.”

“You think I didn’t try?” he bites out. “I wouldn’t put myself in your presence if I could help it.” 

Remus and Peter share a glance, then raise matching eyebrows in James’ direction. James doesn’t bother to look at them.

“See, here’s the thing. I could fix it, easily, but the Gryffindor colors look so much better than the Slytherin ones. So, no, for the sake of my eyes and everyone else’s, I’d rather not.”

“Go fuck yourself,” Black sneers and turns away. 

Not quite finished messing with him, James winks. “I’d rather you fuck me, ” he says, relishing the way Black’s eyes widen slightly and lips part before he recovers and smooths out his expression again. He once again ignores his friends’ bewildered expressions.

“I wouldn’t dirty any part of my body by having it come near you,” Black retorts. 

“Think about your come near me often, do you?” James says.

“That is not—you—” he splutters, then rolls his eyes. “You’re insufferable,” he mutters and walks away. 

James watches him leave and grins. He had expected Black’s predictable comeback, but his face, wide-eyed and caught off-guard, was a much more exciting reaction.

~~~

The summer before James started Hogwarts, his parents threw a large banquet in his name. They invited all the purebloods they knew and some others, and to their surprise, most of the pureblood families showed up. The Blacks, unable to resist the lure of a night of gossip and wine and music, were one of them. 

At eleven, James was just as restless as he is at seventeen. He’d managed to escape the crowds of people gathered inside Potter Manor to climb one of the trees on his back lawn. Something about the night—just a week before he’d leave for Hogwarts—made him ache in a way he had never felt before, and he wanted to step outside to look at the stars. His mum had taught him all about constellations, and he found comfort in trying to find them.

He was just about to swing his legs over the highest branch when his hold on the trunk slipped and he fell onto the grass below.

“You should watch where you’re going,” came a disdained sniff next to him. “Or are you blind even with your glasses?” 

James looked up to see the Black heir, clad in silk robes of deep emerald, eyeing him with a bored expression. His blood boiled—it was one thing to make fun of him, but another thing to consider him boring. 

“I’m not blind, but seeing you makes me wish I was!” he answered hotly. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that he was being unreasonable, that there was no need to lash out, but someone finding him when he was trying to get away from his own party made him feel unpleasantly exposed. 

“Clearly you blood traitors have no manners,” Black said. His expression remained bored and James wanted to punch him. How dare he come to James’ party just to insult him and then talk about manners?

“At least we’re not so inbred our family tree is more of a circle than anything resembling a tree,” he retorted.

“It’s to keep the good genes away from you lot,” Black said, scowling. 

James looked him up and down. “I don’t see anything I’d want to have,” he said, done with the conversation. 

In retrospect, it may have been a bad idea to make an enemy out of someone so magically inclined as Sirius Black, especially if said person was to be one of James’ peers for the next seven years. James decided to simply avoid Black for his own good.

On the train ride, he’d successfully managed to follow through with his decision. But as soon as they arrived at Hogwarts, all his efforts to avoid and ignore were quickly undone. As soon as they were sorted—James to Gryffindor, of course, and Black to Slytherin—Black started in on him as though he were making up for James having the last word in their argument in the summer just days ago. 

“I’ll never understand how the Sorting Hat managed to fit on you, Potter, with your head being as large as it is. Maybe that’s why you were sorted before it even touched you.”

“It’s really not that hard to understand, Black, but you were always a slow one.”

“Slow? More like waiting for you to catch up. It’s not fun having one-sided conversations, but you wouldn’t know the difference.”

And thus their years-long rivalry began. Initially, they exchanged nothing more than barbed insults, but soon, increasingly complex pranks followed. In their third year, Black vanished James’ clothes mid-Quidditch match, while James slipped enchanted powder into his shampoo bottle, causing his hair to become an impressive gold and red for a week. James cast a silent spell on Black’s shoes, making them squeak with every step, and in return, Black charmed James’ cloak to stick to him. 

This year, however, James has a plan to beat Black once and for all. It isn’t a particularly good one, but that has never stopped him.

~~~

The first week of classes passes without incident. James wants to feel happy about it—perhaps Black’s prudish nature couldn’t handle James’ comments a few days before—but instead, he feels rather, well, disappointed.

It comes as a welcome relief when Slughorn announces the potion they will be working on that week: Essence of Insanity. 

“Now, class,” he begins, leaning against his desk. “This is a very dangerous potion. I trust that as seventh years in a NEWT-level class, you are all well-equipped to make this without trouble. Now, can anyone tell me why it is so important to follow directions with extra care for this potion?”

Lily raises her hand. “It causes irrational decision making in the drinker, Professor, so it’s already a pretty dangerous potion if it falls into the wrong hands.” She pauses, instinctively flicking her eyes to the Slytherin half of the room. “And the main active ingredients, frog brains and beetle eyes, can cause unpleasant results if not mixed in the right way.”

Slughorn beams. “Excellent work, as usual, Miss Evans! Now, get in pairs. We’ll be working on this all week.”

Remus is already sitting near Lily, so James is left to partner with Peter. As he makes his way to the storage cabinet to get the ingredients, a shadow falls across his arm. 

“Your potion will likely be the best in the class, Potter, since you’ve mastered the essence of insanity ages ago, don’t you think?” a snide voice says next to him.

James hums, in the middle of crushing his spoonful of beetle eyes. “Well, my father is a master potioneer.”

“Sure, plus you’re a master at being insane—”

“You’re so tall,” James says, as he finishes measuring. “It’s nice.” He had turned around to return to his seat, but he hadn’t realized how fast the line had moved and how close Black now stood behind him. 

Black eyes him warily. “What?”

“I mean, I knew you were tall, since I’ve seen you around, but I hadn’t realized you were taller than me,” James continues. “You’ve probably got a couple centimeters on me. Probably makes it easier to reach these ingredients on the high shelves, doesn’t it?”

Black steps back, or as much as he can without trampling someone’s feet behind him. He looks down at himself, then back at James, mentally cataloging their height difference with a bewildered expression. “Um, I guess. So?”

“So, nothing,” James says. “Just that I find tall people more attractive. See you later.”

And then he strolls back to his cauldron where Peter awaits him, leaving Black baffled behind him. 

~~~

“Hey, Potter,” Black sneers in the corridor near the Great Hall the next morning, stopping James on his way to breakfast. “Where’s the rest of your little clique? Did they abandon you? I suppose they were bound to figure out how boring you are after seven years in your presence.”

James shrugs, the jab not bothering him nearly as much as it did seven years ago. “Remus and Peter woke up before me. And anyway, I’m glad I caught you without them around—they wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if they heard me tell you that green is your color.”

Black raises an eyebrow. James idly wishes he could make the same expression with as much ease. “The same green that you claimed was an atrocity to everyone’s eyes?” 

James nods. “Yeah. Somehow you make it work. I never noticed before, but your eyes are sort of a cooler shade of gray. The green brings out the color. You look good.”

“Er—”

“I’m not sure if the green is what brings your eyes out more, or if it’s your ridiculous cow eyelashes, or your hair,” James says, leaning a little closer to scrutinize him. 

Black takes an alarmed step back. “M-my what eyelashes?”

“Cow eyelashes,” James repeats, gesturing at them. “They’re all long and thick. Mine aren’t half as pretty, but I guess my glasses cover most of them anyway. Hey, is your hair wavy? I always thought it was straight.”

Black reaches up and touches his hair uncertainly, looking lost about how to deal with James’ onslaught of compliments. “Uh, no, it’s always been wavy.”

“I bet your parents aren’t a fan of you growing it out,” James remarks, wishing he could take the words back when he sees Black’s jaw clench. 

Unexpectedly, Black barks out a laugh, though his posture remains stiff. “That’s the whole point.”

James glances up, surprised. “Seriously? I’d have thought you would do anything to keep them happy.”

Black’s eyes darken. “Well, that just goes to show that you know nothing,” he says icily, sweeping past James into the Great Hall. James exhales heavily, regretting his words, before following him to breakfast.

~~~

Several hours later, James finds himself hunched over his and Peter’s cauldron of Essence of Insanity at the table in front of Black. He’s minding his own business, already feeling guilty about this morning’s encounter.

“Hey, Potter.” When James turns his head, Black is pointing at the jar of frog brains on the racks next to their desk, “If it’s not too much trouble for you to help a spineless, evil Slytherin.”

James’ lips tighten. “I didn’t mean—never mind,” he says, passing him the jar. He looks over at Black’s potion. “Hey—what the heck, yours looks amazing! What did you do?”

“I read,” Black snaps, voice sharp. “Which you clearly can’t do, even with an extra set of eyes.”

“I—”

“But it’s not unlike what I’d expect from you. It makes sense that a reckless Gryffindor such as yourself wouldn’t be able to read the room or, apparently, textbooks.”

James falls silent. “I’m sorry about this morning,” he says quietly. Then, gathering his courage, he says, “My dad always wanted me to follow in his footsteps, but I’ve never been the best at potions. He doesn’t say anything, but I know he still wishes I did better. Maybe we could work together for the next potions project since you’re really good at it? You could show me all the ways you’re better than I am at following instructions.”

Black doesn’t say anything, but his knuckles whiten where he’s gripping the jar. “Absolutely not.”

“Okay. Whatever you want.” He feels bad about earlier and chooses not to push Black any further. 

Black suddenly stands up and rounds on James. He digs the tip of his wand against James’ collarbone, and James takes a step back. His back collides with his desk, leaving Black leaning over him. Peter looks up, startled.

“Erm, Black?” James asks, his voice tentative. He reaches up and catches Black’s wrist, momentarily distracted by the contrast between the slenderness of the bone and the solid strength in the rest of his arm. The rest spills out in a rush. “You’ve got really nice arms, and normally I wouldn’t mind you pressing against me like this, but we’re in class and this definitely isn’t normal, at least for you. What exactly are you doing?"

“What am I doing?” Black repeats, incredulous. “The better question is, what the fuck are you doing?” 

“Nothing?” James replies. “And let go of me—I know you’re dying to get your hands on me, but Slughorn will notice.”

“This is what I’m talking about!” Black nearly yells. “Why the bloody hell are you complimenting all the damn time? You’re supposed to be annoying me, not talking about my fucking hair and my height and my hands! When I pinned you down, you were supposed to hex me or punch me or something, not act as if we—as if we were—”

“What, dating? Fucking? In love? All of the above?” James says mildly. “But I am annoying you, if this situation is anything to go by.” Black groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Do you want me to hex you?” James asks after a beat, doubtful. “I mean, while it’s fun to rile you up like this, I’d be happy to punch you if you really wanted.” 

“That is not what I—no. ” Black rubs his eyes. “Fuck. You know what? Pettigrew, we’re switching partners for the next potion. I need to teach this one a thing or two about following the rules.”

“There aren’t any rules about how to antagonize you,” James begins. 

“Yes, there bloody well are!” Black snaps, cutting him off. “Like not flirting, for starters! Or complimenting my eyes! Especially when we’ve hated each other since forever!”

Peter speaks up, voice meek, like he doesn’t know whether to be amused or frightened. “Erm, is this supposed to be some kind of foreplay for you guys?”

Black jerks back. James gapes between Black and Peter, heat rising to his face. 

“No,” James rushes to say. “No, we’re not—it’s just a joke. I was trying to see how far I can go to rile him up.”

“Right,” Black scoffs. “You think I’m so stupid I wouldn’t catch on? Contrary to what you may believe, I’m not an idiot. I can think and do things for myself.”

He holds James’ gaze when he says that, and James flushes. Then the moment passes, leaving James with the nagging sense that he’s missed something significant.

~~~

James feels like an arse through the rest of his classes. He can’t unsee the way Black’s expression had closed off at the mention of his parents, the way he had flinched. Remus and Peter aren’t surprised when, all throughout dinner, James keeps looking over to the Slytherin table. James knows he’s like a mother hen to all the people he cares about. Black is hardly someone he can tolerate, much less care about, but even he isn’t ignorant of the Black family’s unorthodox principles of keeping their children in check. He feels terrible about bringing up all that baggage, especially when Black had actually been decent, as far as Slytherins can go. 

He had been laughing. In James’presence. 

Despite what had happened immediately after, James couldn’t help but remember the way his eyes had sparkled the instant before he had laughed, the way his shoulders had loosened with mirth. At that moment, when they had bonded for a brief moment over a mutual dislike for the Black parents, he hadn’t seemed like the irritating menace he had been throughout their Hogwarts years. He had just been a boy, bitter about the control his parents had over his life, and while James hadn’t understood, per se, he could still relate to doing things for the sake of rebelling against his parents. 

And then James had to muck it up. 

He feels responsible for Black’s bad mood as he watches him snap at his brother and friends over at the Slytherin table and later in the halls after dinner. As he makes his way to the Gryffindor tower to get ready for his night’s patrols, he quickly grabs the Marauder’s map before thinking better of it. It would be good to apologize to Black sooner rather than later, he thinks, and ignores the small voice in his head that Black wouldn’t appreciate an apology at all.

He finishes off his assigned rounds as fast as he can, then pulls out the map, his footsteps echoing in the quiet halls. The glow of his wand illuminates his face as he scans the parchment for the dot labeled “Sirius Black.” Finally, he spots it, hovering near one of the abandoned corridors on the seventh floor near the Astronomy Tower. 

“What’s he doing there?” James mutters to himself. A strange unease settles in his stomach. He folds the map and tucks it into his pocket, quickening his pace.

The corridor is dimly lit, the torches on the walls flickering feebly. James slows as he approaches, hearing the faint clinking of glass. Rounding the corner, he spots Black leaning against the wall, a bottle of Firewhisky in hand. His posture is loose, almost careless, but there’s a tension in the line of his shoulders that betrays his mood. His robes hang off his shoulders, the top buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned, and stray hairs from his bun frame his face. James swallows, trying to stop the way his heart quickens at the sight of the faint golden light spilling across Black’s disarrayed state. 

“Black?” James calls out cautiously. He tucks the map into his pocket. 

Black looks up, startled, and his eyes narrow. “Head Boy,” he says coolly, tilting the bottle in a mock salute. “What brings you here? Here to give me detention for being out after curfew? Or say something about my butt”

James steps closer, hands shoved into his pockets. “Thought I’d find you,” he says. “I wanted to apologize. But I can compliment your butt, too, if you’d like. It’s unfairly distracting.”

Black looks skeptical, but there’s an amused quirk at the corner of his mouth. “It’s my second-best asset,” he says. “And apologize for what? Letting your mouth run away with you earlier? Don’t bother. It’s not like it’s the first time.”

James winces but presses on. “Yeah, for that. Look, I shouldn’t have brought up your parents. It was out of line.” Then he pauses. “What’s your best asset?”

Black snorts, taking a swig from the bottle. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he murmurs. “Anyway, you’re not wrong about them. They’re bloody nightmares, both of them. But it’s not exactly dinner conversation, is it?”

“No, it’s not,” James admits. “Still, I—” He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I know I don’t understand what it’s like, but… I’ve seen enough to know it’s not easy.”

For a moment, Black just looks at him, the guarded expression on his face cracking ever so slightly. Then he slumps down to sit on the cold stone floor, motioning vaguely for James to join him.

“So you’ve come to play Mind Healer, have you?” he asks, his tone laced with sarcasm. His head tips back to lean against the stone walls, and James turns his gaze forcibly away from the long line of his neck, the sharp curve of his Adam’s apple.

Merlin, what was happening to him? 

He sits beside him, keeping a small distance. “Not exactly,” he says. “But if you feel like talking, I’ll listen.”

Black takes another swig and then sets the bottle down between them. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” James says with a faint smile.

Silence falls between them, stretching long enough that James wonders if he should leave. But then Black speaks, his voice quieter than James has ever heard it.

“They hate me,” he murmurs, staring at the far wall. “Always have. I’m not what they wanted. Not obedient enough, not ambitious enough, not…dark enough. Regulus? He’s the perfect son. Does everything they ask without question. Me? I’m the family disappointment.”

James listens, the weight of Black’s words settling heavily in his chest. “That’s not on you,” he says firmly. “That’s on them. Parents are supposed to, you know, love their kids for who they are, not try to mold them into something they’re not.”

Black lets out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, well, that’s not how the Blacks operate. Loyalty to the family above all else. Toujours pur. It doesn’t matter if it breaks you in the process.”

James hesitates, then takes a long pull of Firewhisky. Gathering his courage, he speaks. “My parents—they’re not like that. They’re amazing, honestly. But even then, I’ve felt it sometimes, the pressure to be the perfect son. They’ve wanted a child for years, so I feel like I have to, I don’t know, live up to expectations. It’s nothing like what you’ve been through, but I get it. A little, at least.”

Black takes the bottle from him. “I thought you were the perfect golden boy.” He takes a shuddering breath, then closes his eyes. “When I was younger I actually used to be jealous of how easily you made friends and how happy you always seemed.”

“I am happy,” James says. “And I’m grateful for my friends. But it’s hard to be the ‘perfect golden boy’ all the time. Sometimes I just want to hex someone or scream bloody murder, but I have to keep up the act for others’ sakes. It’s tough. I’m always looking out for others, but not all of them would even think to look out for me. Not that I’d ever ask.” 

Black holds his gaze, something in James’ expression making his eyes soften. “I guess we’re not as different as I thought,” he says, almost grudgingly. He pauses, but then steeling himself, he continues.

“I can’t ask anyone for help either,” he says hesitantly, “I don’t—I’d be in a worse position if they figure out I’ve been speaking about family matters to outside people. And I can’t imagine Regulus in my place. He’s quiet, sure, and he never stands up to them, but at least he’s there. When everything goes to hell, he’s the only one who understands.”

James glances at him, surprised. “Really? I didn’t think you two were close.”

Black’s lips twitch into a faint smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “He’s my little brother. I’d do anything to protect him. And he’s the only one who looks out for me when there’s no one else. We both hate them, our parents. He just better at keeping his head down. It’s like he’s learned to survive by staying silent. I’m not sure if that makes him smart or just cowardly, but, well, it’s Reg. That’s just how he is.”

James nods slowly, understanding dawning on him. “Sounds like he cares about you in his own way.”

“He does,” Black says softly. “And I care about him. I just wish he didn’t have to carry all of this, you know? Wish neither of us did.”

“Maybe you don’t have to,” James offers. “Not alone, anyway.”

Black glances at him, something unreadable in his expression. Then, with a sigh, he inclines his head. “Maybe, Potter.”

“James.”

“What?”

“James,” he repeats. “Call me James. I’ll call you Sirius, if that’s okay?”

Black pauses, considering, then nods. “Okay, uh—James.”

They sit in silence for a while, the Firewhisky forgotten between them. And for the first time, James sees Sirius Black not as a Slytherin or an enemy, but as a boy who’s just as lost and hurt as anyone else. And he realizes that maybe, just maybe, they could be something more than rivals.

~~~

The next morning, History of Magic is as dull as ever. James strolls into the classroom, his usual confident swagger intact, but instead of heading to his seat beside Remus and Peter, he veers off. He makes a beeline for Sirius, who’s slumped in his chair at the far end of the room, looking decidedly worse for wear.

Remus and Peter exchange glances as James drops into the seat next to Sirius without preamble.

“What are you doing?” Sirius mutters, his voice low and gravelly, as though he’s nursing a hangover—which, James realizes with some satisfaction, he probably is.

“Spying on you, obviously,” James quips with a grin, loud enough for Remus and Peter to hear. “Can’t let a Slytherin out of my sight.”

Peter chuckles, apparently buying the excuse, but Remus just raises an eyebrow, his sharp gaze cutting straight through James’ bravado.

Sirius rolls his eyes but doesn’t protest further. He’s too distracted, his usual immaculate appearance slightly ruffled. His hair is less polished than usual, and while he still looks more put-together than James on any given day, there’s a weariness in his eyes that makes James pause.

“You look like hell,” James whispers, leaning closer.

Sirius glares at him. “Thanks for the observation, Potter. Very helpful. What happened to my beautiful eyes and hair?”

“They drowned in last night’s Firewhisky,” James says, fishing a small vial out of his pocket. He slides it across the desk. “Sober up potion. You’re welcome.”

Sirius hesitates, then snatches the vial and downs it in one gulp. He grimaces at the taste but says nothing, his posture straightening slightly as the potion takes effect.

“Don’t mention it,” James says, smirking. Cheekily, he adds, “Now you look like your usual hot self.” Sirius rolls his eyes again, but he looks pleased.

The two of them spend the first half of the lesson ignoring Professor Binns’ droning voice entirely. Instead, they pass notes back and forth, the parchment quickly filling with a mix of sarcastic commentary and idle chatter.

At one point, James mentions how he practices Quidditch during any free time he can find, juggling it with his Head Boy duties and NEWT preparations.

Sirius scribbles back, his handwriting perfectly even and neat. Must be nice. Slytherins aren’t usually welcome on the pitch unless it’s for reserved practice hours or games.

James reads the note, his jaw tightening. He scribbles furiously in response. That’s bollocks. The pitch should be for everyone. You should come flying with me sometime.

Sirius glances at the note, his expression unreadable. Then, to hide whatever emotion flickers across his face, he writes back, I’m busy. There’s a pause before he jots down, But maybe. Later this week.

James beams at the reply, his mood lifting instantly. Sirius glances at him, one eyebrow raised in amusement at James’ obvious delight.

“What’s got you so chipper?” Sirius mutters, though there’s no real bite in his tone.

“Oh, nothing,” James whispers back, still grinning. “Just thinking about how much I’m going to show you up on the pitch.”

“In your dreams, Potter,” Sirius retorts, but there’s a faint smirk tugging at his lips now.

“Oh, I do much more than that with you in my dreams,” James says with a wink. Sirius looks away, flushing.

When the lesson finally ends, James rejoins Remus and Peter as they head out of the classroom. Sirius takes a different direction, his gait more composed than it had been earlier.

“Alright,” Remus says as soon as Sirius is out of earshot. “What the fuck was that about?”

James shrugs, feigning nonchalance. “Just keeping an eye on him. You know, for strategic purposes.”

Remus gives him a long, unimpressed look. Peter, however, nods earnestly. “Makes sense. Got to keep tabs on the competition.”

James hides a grin as they walk down the corridor, already imagining how satisfying it’ll be to have a proper challenge on the pitch.

~~~

The Quidditch pitch is quiet the night James and Sirius go to play, the lamplight casting shadows on the grass, illuminating the glinting frost, and reflecting the starlight that spills across the grounds. James hovers high above the pitch, his broom swaying gently beneath him as he watches Sirius adjust the straps on his gloves. 

“You ready to get your arse handed to you, Black?” James calls, his grin audible even through the distance.

Sirius mounts his broom, looking up with a smirk that could cut glass. “You fucking wish, Potter. Try to keep up.”

James’ laugh echoes as Sirius kicks off from the ground, soaring up to meet him. The wind tugs at their robes, the chill biting at their faces, but neither pays it any mind. The exhilaration of flying drowns out the cold.

“First to five goals wins,” James announces, flicking his wand to summon a Quaffle from the nearby trunk. It zips into the air, spiraling between them as if eager for the match to begin.

Sirius snatches it mid-flight, spinning his broom with a graceful twist that makes something warm spool inside James’ belly. “That’s one for me already,” Sirius taunts, his voice ringing with playful arrogance.

“Oh, it’s on,” James growls, diving after him.

The game is fast and brutal. Sirius weaves through the air with an agility that James can’t help but admire, his broom a blur as he dodges and ducks, keeping the Quaffle tantalizingly out of reach. But James is relentless, his competitive streak burning as brightly as the lanterns lining the pitch.

They clash near the goalposts, James’ broom edging perilously close to Sirius’. Sirius laughs, sharp and wild, as he swerves just in time to avoid a collision. He tosses the Quaffle toward the hoop with a flick of his wrist, but James intercepts it with a well-timed dive.

“Not so fast, Black,” James crows, tucking the Quaffle under his arm and rocketing toward the opposite goal.

Sirius chases him, the sound of his broom slicing through the air close behind. “That’s all you’ve got?” he calls, though his breath comes heavier now.

“Just warming up,” James shoots back, grinning as he swerves and hurls the Quaffle through the hoop.

They trade goals back and forth. Sirius’ form is impeccable; his turns are sharp, his throws precise. But James has the advantage of instinct, his ability to anticipate Sirius’ moves honed through years of playing against the best. By the time the score is tied at four each, both are panting, their breaths misting in the frigid air.

“Next goal wins,” James says, his voice tinged with exhilaration and exhaustion.

Sirius’ eyes glint with determination. “You’re going down, Potter.”

The Quaffle hovers between them, pulsing slightly as if sensing the tension. They stare each other down, brooms poised, before launching forward simultaneously. The Quaffle shoots upward, and they collide mid-air in their scramble to grab it. Sirius’ shoulder slams into James, but James holds firm, his hand closing around the ball.

“Not today!” James yells, pulling into a steep dive. Sirius is right on his tail, the distance between their brooms almost negligible. The goalposts loom ahead, but Sirius isn’t about to let him have the victory so easily.

With a final burst of speed, Sirius lunges, his fingertips grazing the Quaffle. It slips from James’ grasp, spiraling toward the ground. Both dive after it, the world a blur as they race for the ball. At the last second, Sirius reaches out, snatching the Quaffle and rolling to the side to avoid a crash.

He straightens, laughing triumphantly as he tosses the Quaffle through the hoop. “And that’s how it’s done,” he declares, his grin wide and smug.

James lands beside him, shaking his head but smiling despite himself. “You got lucky.”

Sirius’ laugh is softer this time. “Admit it, Potter. I’m the better player.”

“Never,” James replies, though there is no venom in his tone. He holds out a hand. “Good game.”

Sirius shakes it, his grip firm. “Yeah. It was.”

They stand there for a moment, the rivalry between them softened by the shared exhilaration of the match. The frost-covered pitch stretches around them, silent and still, as the adrenaline begins to fade. James looks over at Sirius, his hair a windswept mess, his cheeks flushed from exertion, and feels a warmth that has nothing to do with the exercise.

“Want to go somewhere?” he asks impulsively, his voice light but his gaze tentative. 

Sirius frowns. “Somewhere else? It’s nearly curfew, and I thought Head Boys were supposed to enforce rules, not break them.”

James’ eyes sparkle with mischief. “What’s the point of being Head Boy if I can’t use my power to bend the rules every now and then?”

Sirius’ lips quirk. “Are you saying you’re a bad influence, Potter?”

“Oh, the worst,” James replies, winking. He notices with satisfaction the faint flush creeping up Sirius’ cheeks, though he tells himself it’s probably just the cold. Probably.

Sirius huffs but falls into step beside him. “Alright, then. Lead the way, troublemaker.”

James leads him through the castle, weaving through shadowed corridors until they reach the entrance to a secret passageway behind a statue of a one-eyed witch. Sirius’ eyebrows rise as James mutters the password and reveals the hidden staircase.

“Well, would you look at that,” Sirius says, breathing a laugh. “A secret passage? How in the name of Salazar did you find this?”

“It wouldn’t be a secret passageway if everyone knew where to find them all,” James teases. 

“There’s more? ” Sirius exclaims. 

“Plenty,” James says smugly. “I’d love to show you more sometime.”

Sirius gives him a sidelong glance, but a faint smile tugs at his lips. “You’re full of surprises.”

They emerge in Hogsmeade, the village eerily quiet and coated in frost. Honeydukes is dark, but James has a way in, and soon they’re rummaging through shelves of sweets. Sirius surprises James by grabbing handfuls of sugar quills and chocolate frogs, stuffing them into his pockets with an almost childlike enthusiasm.

“You’re like a kid,” James teases, laughing as Sirius drops a handful of gold onto the counter.

“Shut it, Potter,” Sirius says through a mouthful of candy, but he’s smiling. “Everyone has their vices.” 

As they make their way back to Hogwarts, Sirius’ pace slows. “Potter—James,” he says. “Thank you for tonight. I had fun.”

James smiles. “Me too.” 

Sirius watches him carefully, then closes the distance between them to kiss him softly. 

James jerks back, staring at him in shock. “What—what are you doing?”

Sirius’ face colors. “Is this not what you wanted?” 

“No!” The word comes out before James can process the question. “Wait, what? No—I mean—”

Sirius laughs humorlessly and takes a step back. “Fuck off, Potter.” His glare is cold, mask slipping back onto his face to hide his emotions, but James can see real hurt behind his eyes. James opens his mouth to try and explain when Sirius talks over him. “Was it all for revenge?” he asks, waving a hand between them. “Try to out the Black heir as gay? See what it would take to get into my pants?”  His voice gets smaller as he speaks. “Well, congratulations, Head Boy, you’ve humiliated me enough.”

“Of course not!” James manages to get out. His heart is racing. “Of course that wasn’t what I was trying to do!”

“Then what were you trying to do?” Sirius snaps, glaring. “‘Your robes make your arse look fantastic, Black, and I really like your eyes,’” he mocks. His voice cracks as he continues, “‘You don’t need to be so alone anymore because you have me.’ Everyone thinks you’re the saint of Gryffindor, but you’re a right arsehole, you know that? You make me sick.” 

“I meant all of that!” James exclaims.

 Sirius spins around, his eyes blazing with something James can’t quite decipher—anger, fear, hope, maybe all three. “You’re a bloody fucking liar,” he says. “Because you just said you didn’t.”

“I do,” James insists, his hands shaking slightly as he gestures between them. “I’m sorry. You took me by surprise and I blurted it out without thinking. Of course I like you. As a friend, obviously, but I also like you as more than that. I would’ve run away screaming if I didn’t.”

Sirius exhales sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. For a moment, neither of them speaks. The silence stretches, filled only with the sound of their breaths mingling in the cold night air. Sirius looks at James, really looks at him, as if trying to find the catch, the hidden joke, the reason not to believe him. But all he sees is honesty, open and raw.

“I hate this,” Sirius finally says, though his voice lacks the venom it usually carries. “I hate that you make me feel like this.”

James steps even closer, close enough that their shoulders nearly touch. “And how’s that?”

Sirius hesitates, his jaw tightening. Then, in a voice so soft it’s almost lost to the wind, he says, “Like I matter.”

The admission hangs between them, heavy and fragile. James feels his chest tighten, the weight of Sirius’ words almost unbearable in their sincerity. Without thinking, he reaches out, his fingers brushing against Sirius’. “You do,” he murmurs. “You matter, Sirius. So, so much.”

Sirius looks down at their hands, then up at James, his expression conflicted. “You’re going to regret this,” he says, but there’s no malice in his tone—just a quiet, lingering doubt.

James smiles, lopsided and genuine. “Not a chance.” Then cheekily, he adds, “I wasn’t able to enjoy the last experience as much as I should have, so may I kiss you again?”

“Are you saying you’re a better kisser than I am?”

“Your words, not mine,” James murmurs, then moves, closing the gap between them in one swift motion. His lips crash against Sirius, fierce and desperate, as if trying to convey all the things he can’t put into words. Sirius responds just as eagerly, his hands coming up to cup James’ face, grounding them both in the intensity of the moment.

When they finally pull apart, both are breathless, their foreheads pressed together. Sirius’ eyes are dark, but there’s a softness in them now that James hasn’t seen before.

“You’re insufferable,” Sirius mutters, though there’s no heat behind it.

James laughs, his thumb brushing lightly against Sirius’ cheek. “And you’re impossible. Guess we make a good pair, huh?”

Sirius huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “We’ll see.”

But the way his lips pull into the barest hint of a smile feels like a promise James is determined to keep.

~~~

By the next morning, nothing about Sirius and James has outwardly changed. At breakfast, they sit at their respective tables, Sirius laughing at something Regulus mutters under his breath while James launches a piece of toast at Peter for eating the last sausage.

But in the moments in between, when no one else is looking, James catches Sirius’ eye from across the Hall. It’s only for a second, but the corner of Sirius’ mouth quirks up in a small, knowing smile that makes James’ heart stutter in a way he’ll never admit.

They’re careful, of course. Sirius keeps his distance in public, maintaining his sharp tongue and impenetrable facade among his housemates. James plays the part of the Head Boy perfectly, breaking up scuffles and charming professors with his easy grin. Yet, when the corridors are empty or the nights grow still with promise, they find each other.

It’s during one of those moments, tucked into the shadows of the Astronomy Tower, that Sirius presses James against the cold stone wall. James’ hands slide up Sirius’ back, pulling him closer, and for a while, they forget the world outside.

“This is mad,” Sirius whispers when they finally break apart, his forehead resting against James’. He looks at James with a mix of frustration and something softer, something he can’t quite put into words. “If anyone finds out—”

“No one will,” James cuts in, his voice low but sure. His hands rest on Sirius’ waist, steadying him. “And even if they did, I wouldn’t care.”

Sirius snorts, though there’s no real humor in it. “You’re Gryffindor’s golden boy, Potter. You can’t afford to be seen sneaking around with me.”

James tilts his head, his grin softening into something almost tender. “Maybe I don’t care about what they’d think. Maybe I care more about this.”

For a moment, Sirius doesn’t reply. He just looks at James, his expression unreadable. Then, without another word, he leans in again, his lips brushing against James with a deliberate slowness that sends a shiver down his spine.

~~~

One evening, they meet in an unused classroom near the dungeons. Sirius is leaning against a desk, his arms crossed, watching the door with a practiced indifference that vanishes the moment James slips inside.

“You’re late,” Sirius says, but his tone lacks its usual bite.

“Got held up with patrols,” James replies, shutting the door quietly behind him. He grins as he steps closer, his hands finding their way to Sirius’ hips. “Miss me?”

Sirius rolls his eyes, but there’s a faint pink tinge on his cheeks. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

James leans in, his lips brushing against Sirius’ ear. “Too late.”

~~~

It isn’t always easy. There are days when Sirius withdraws, the weight of everything—his family, the expectations, the constant mask he has to wear—bearing down on him. Those are the days James finds him in the empty classroom on the third floor, sitting on the windowsill and staring out at the grounds.

“Sickle for your thoughts?” James asks one afternoon, his voice gentle as he approaches.

Sirius doesn’t look at him. “You don’t have enough sickles, Potter.”

James doesn’t push. Instead, he sits beside Sirius, their shoulders brushing as they watch the sun dip below the horizon. After a while, Sirius speaks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s stupid, isn’t it? Hiding like this.”

James turns to him, his eyes soft. “Maybe. But if it means I get to have this—to have you—I don’t mind.”

For a moment, Sirius says nothing. Then he reaches out, his fingers brushing against James’. It’s small, almost imperceptible, but it’s enough.

It’s always enough.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hiii I really love your writing! Thank you for keeping Prongsfoot alive <3 I was hoping you could do one where James temporarily loses his memories and falls in love with Sirius (who is already his boyfriend but he doesn’t remember) all over again. Cute fluffy stuff pls hehehe

James can hear the doctor in the hall, saying something about how 'they' need to take it easy and not excite the patient too much. James can't help but perk up. He has visitors! It's about time. Yeah, yeah, they needed to get him out of the danger zone first, but he's been bored, being trapped in this hospital room with only staff to see-- and it's not like they really talk to him.

He's lost his memories (temporarily, they assure him), but he gets the feeling he's a person that talks a lot.

He's practically vibrating in his skin when the door finally opens. Then his eyes widen. Wow, he must be popular, because people come flooding in. He guessed he was a people person, but when four people come in, he thinks that's going to be the end of it. People keep walking in, filling the hospital room until there's not a single spare foot of floor to be found. His gaze automatically latches onto the first person that made it in-- an absolutely gorgeous man with piercing grey eyes and a wide smile-- who comes straight to his side and makes an aborted gesture to touch his shoulder. The man in question is the first one to speak, something that must have been prearranged, because of how many people there are.

"Hey, James. We know you don't recognise anyone right now, but I thought it might make you feel better to see everyone."

"Yeah, and we need you to get back to work, you're making us look bad," someone joked.

"Can't make the quotas without him, huh Gideon?"

"Shove off," he replies, but it's with good humour.

Everyone seems to be in high spirits. James likes that.

Sirius-- the one James can't stop staring at, the first one in the room, the one who keeps almost touching him and then stopping himself-- introduces everyone. He tells James as he does it, that he doesn't expect him to remember, he just wants to make him feel less like he's surrounded by strangers.

People are talking, about nothing in particular, just talking to keep him company, and James appreciates it. He wants to pay attention to all these people that care about him, but his eyes keep getting drawn back to Sirius. He does his best not to make it obvious, but he gets caught.

"Come on, everyone, time to get lost," Fabian says. "We should give him and Sirius some time alone. Even without his memories he knows who's most important."

Everyone laughs companionably and James blushes, but people file out of the room like it's no big deal, bidding him well and promising to come back if he's there much longer.

When the door closes, leaving the two of them alone, James clears his throat uncomfortably. "I didn't mean to stare."

"I don't mind," Sirius says with a smirk.

"Is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"That you're... most important to me."

"Yeah," Sirius says easily. He laughs at James's expression. "We've been best mates for ages. We were in the same dormitory at school, and when we graduated, we moved in together. Never separated since. Everyone knows I'm the most important person to you. People we don't even know, know that about us."

James tries to form an opinion about that, but before he gets the chance, Sirius is walking towards the door.

"I'm going to talk to your doctor, see when you get to leave. I know you don't like being cooped up."

James nods dumbly, and then Sirius is gone with a wink. 'Most important person'. And everyone knows it. What sort of person is James, when he has all his memories? Does he wear his heart on his sleeve? Or is he more reserved but nice to everyone? And he has to be nice to people, if he has so many friends. Maybe he has a lot of friends, but Sirius is the only one he's close to.

He's eaten up with questions about his past. The doctors claim his memories will come back soon, but when he asked when 'soon' is, they said it could be a matter of hours or a week. What sort of person is he? What sort of person is Sirius? When everyone was visiting, they mentioned him going back to work-- what is his work? Is he dating anyone? Where does he even live? He has no idea where home is, much less what it looks like.

If he is dating someone, they didn't make themselves known while visiting.

James groans, slipping off his glasses and pressing his palms against his eyes. It sort of aches, and he wonders why the hell he did it, if it hurts. Muscle memory, that's what the doctor called it. He's not sure he likes this muscle memory. He puts his glasses back on and waits for Sirius to return.

*

Sirius, James learns, is fucking adorable. When James gets upset about not having his memories back yet, Sirius makes him breakfast in bed. When that fails to cheer him up, he takes him flying. When James refuses to get on the broom because, "I don't have my memories, I'm going to get hurt," he takes him on his motorbike instead. For some reason, the prospect doesn't scare him like the broom did, and he thinks it's because Sirius is the one in charge of the bike. Sirius, at least, has all his memories and knows what he's doing. James isn't going to count on muscle memory saving him all on his own-- Sirius laughed when he said this, and said that he'd have to remember it as the only time in James's life where he didn't want to be on a broom; instead of being upset at the difference between James without his memories and James with his memories, he's just amused. James likes that it doesn't upset him. He likes it when Sirius is happy.

He likes just about everything about Sirius. He likes his laugh and how he cooks and the way he winks at James all the time, and he likes most of all that even though Sirius must miss the James he is when he has his memories, he doesn't treat James like a stranger.

"Am I much like myself?" James asks, after two days home from the hospital. He's counting down the days until his memories have to return-- the week long mark is a beacon to him. He was in the hospital for one day, home for two, only four more until he can be himself again. But he feels like himself now, even without his memories. Is it even possible to not feel like himself? But he wants to know what Sirius thinks. He always wants to know what Sirius thinks; he wonders if that's a holdover from his memories that couldn't be erased, or if Sirius really is that fascinating. His guess, of course, is that it's just the wonder that is Sirius Black.

"Aside from not wanting to fly, I'd say you're exactly yourself," Sirius laughs.

"Don't joke, I want to know," James says, even though he enjoys hearing that laugh.

Sirius shrugs, easy as anything. He looks so comfortable in his own skin. "You're unsure of yourself. You hesitate now where normally you wouldn't. You don't remember certain details. That's pretty much it. You're still you, James. Your heart's the same as it's always been. You're still curious about what you don't know."

"I thought that was because I lost my memories."

"Nah, the world is a mystery and you like it that way; it means there's something new around every corner."

Huh. James... likes that. He looks at Sirius, focuses on the way his smile curves and plumps his cheek, the sparkle in his eyes, the sweep of hair across his forehead, and wonders if he's been in love with him for very long, or if it's something new he's feeling. Either way, he likes it. Loving Sirius feels easy.

*

James wakes up, giggles to himself, and crawls out of bed to go join Sirius.

Sirius half-wakes when the bed shifts. "Wha's goin' on?"

"Got my memories back," James whispers. He pecks Sirius's cheek. "Go back to sleep."

"Mmph."

*

"So, memories back?" Sirius says the next morning.

"Yep. You want to know what's funny?" James asks, a grin splitting his face.

"What?"

"Before I got my memories back, I was already falling in love with you again."

"Aw, you love me."

"Sure do," James says, pulling him in for a kiss.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you write a story where James and Sirius get married while still in school and Lily keeps trying to hit on James (she doesn’t know they’re married but people keep telling her it’s a bad idea because James and Sirius are inseparable, maybe lily is a transfer student or something and that’s why she doesn’t know) who politely refuses until he gets fed up and tell her he’s already married.

((A/N: I went with transfer student Lily, assume Hogwarts is the public version of school and she was going private or smthn))

James is a flirt. That's what everyone tells her. James is a flirt, Lily. You can't take him seriously when he flirts with you, he flirts with everybody.

Lily listens to them-- she is new to Hogwarts, after all, and she doesn't know everything about it just because she read the book on it-- but she thinks there's more to it than that.

Maybe everyone knowing James for so long has led them to believe he's not serious about her. If the stories are to be believed, he's been like this since he was eleven, and no one takes an eleven year old seriously when they're charming.

Lily's new to the school, she can offer a new perspective. And her perspective is that James means it when he flirts with her.

"I've heard asking people to Hogsmeade is the done thing," Lily says, not to anyone in particular, but just the general air in the dormitory.

"The done thing for dates, yeah," someone-- Mary, that's her name-- says.

"Brilliant."

"You're not thinking of asking Potter, are you?" Dorcas chimes in.

"I was going to, yeah."

The girls groan in unison. Lily glances at them. Did they plan this? It feels planned. Or maybe this is how in-tune people can get when they've lived together through the school year for six years straight.

"I know you all think it's a bad idea-" god knows they've all told her at length "-but I'm going to go ahead and ask. The worst thing he can do is say no." That's the worst case, and it's not bad. And she doesn't think it's likely, so.

"It's your funeral, girl."

"I think you're crazy for asking out anyone. Isn't that the boy's job?"

Lily rolls her eyes. They're so dramatic. She's asked out someone before and she didn't die from it.

*

James blinks at her owlishly behind his glasses.

For the first time, she doubts her decision. It's not (just) that he isn't answering right away, it's that he's looking at her like that. He's looking at her like this is a complete surprise, one that's taken him off guard so completely that he's in a rare moment of silence.

"Erm."

"I take it that's a no," Lily says, trying to be casual about it. Heat rises in her cheeks in embarrassment and she curses her fair skin for how visible it must be. Damn it, she was so sure that James was into her.

"Yeah, sorry," he says dazedly.

It's impossible to take James Potter off-guard, this much, she knows. She has to take advantage of this moment while she can, so she's going to see if she can find out the why. Why is he saying no and-- more importantly-- why was everyone so certain this would be the outcome? "Mind if I ask why not?"

"Huh?"

"You were flirting," she says, not accusing, just pointing it out. "I thought you were interested."

"I'm- taken, that's all."

"Taken?" She hasn't seen any girl hanging around him, just those three mates of his. Is he lying to try and make her feel better? She's not a fan of that. "There's no way you're taken."

He blinks at her again, still looking taken off-guard. "I'm married, actually."

"Married? No way in hell you're married. We're still in school, and you spend all your time with Black-"

"He's a Potter now," James interrupts quickly, almost angry. Then he goes pale. "Erm, I don't- I mean-" He's starting to panic, so she cuts in, guilt gathering in a lump in her stomach for pushing; she never meant to make him feel bad, she just wanted answers. If she'd known, she wouldn't have pushed. But, well, if she'd known, then... It was an imperfect situation, and she was uncomfortable for her part in it.

"Relax, I won't tell anyone," she assures him.

"If anyone found out-"

"They won't," Lily says simply. For her, it is that simple. She's friends with a few girls here, but she wouldn't describe them as close. She's certainly not close enough with anyone to tell them a secret like this. And they're only really 'friends' in the sense that they get along alright and they don't tell her to get lost.

He looks at her, assessing her sincerity. There's that bit of panic clinging to the edges of him, but there's also a forced calm. She understands, in that moment, why some people are wary-- scared, almost-- of him. He's... intense. In control. He breathes out, and that hint of danger vanishes with it. "Good. We were going to tell people, but- well, it'll just be easier if we wait until we're out of Hogwarts."

"I understand completely. But maybe stop flirting so much with other people? I thought you were interested, it's the only reason I pushed."

James's mouth twists, almost a smirk but lacking the humor. "Yeah, Sirius warned me that might be the case."

"How long have you two been...?" Lily trails off.

The look James gives her then is purely incredulous. "We're not friends, Evans. Why would I talk to you about it?"

Gryffindor, house of the brave, she reminds herself. She can take a chance here. "I don't really have friends." It hurts to admit-- and she can feel her cheeks heat-- but it's the truth. "I figure why not try with you?"

"You just asked me on a date," he points out.

"Yeah, because you're cute and you flirted with me, it's not like I'm in love with you. Come on," she whines, unashamed to be whining because she wants something good to come from this embarrassing confrontation instead of walking away empty-handed. "What do you have to lose by being friends with me?"

"I already have friends," he says, bewildered. 

"Yeah, so what's one more?"

He blinks at her, she's afraid he's going to give a firm no, and then he cracks a grin and starts laughing. "Sure, Evans. We can be friends. But if Sirius doesn't like you, you're gone."

"He'll like me," she says, willing it to be true.

*

"You'll never guess what just happened," James says the second him and Sirius are alone. Sirius is lounging on James's bed, and James is standing, walking back and forth across the room for something to do while they talk.

"Hm?"

"First, promise you won't get mad. The situation's handled."

Sirius raises an eyebrow at him. "Okay?"

"Evans knows about us."

"Evan Rosier?" he says, sitting up straight. "That sounds like a cause for panic, what the hell were you thinking-"

"No, not Evan, Evans, Lily Evans, Gryffindor."

"Oh." He lays back down. "She won't tell?"

"She won't tell," James promises. He walks over and lays down next to him, fingers tapping Sirius's chest with nervous energy. "She asked me out, and when she asked why, I sort of told her we were married."

"Uh-huh," Sirius says, in that way that means he knows there's more to it.

"Anyway, she asked if we could be friends, and I said sure, but only if you liked her too. So, thoughts on Evans?"

"She's alright," he shrugs. "Not sure I like her knowing we're married, though. How'd that happen, anyways? It's not like you'd say it flat out."

James snickers. "Hello, I'm James, this is my husband, Sirius. What's your name?" He pecks a kiss to Sirius's cheek after he says 'husband'; it makes Sirius laugh. "Nah, she called you Black, and I corrected her without thinking. It was a stupid mistake."

Stupid, but sweet. It makes Sirius's heart grow, just hearing it. The change of his last name is official, but that doesn't mean they told anyone but the Potter's about it-- not even the professors know, since when they started this school year, his name was still Black. The NEWT's will get his name right, and that's all that matters right now. Plus... it feels good. He likes that someone else knows. It's dangerous, and if Lily talks, they're screwed for the rest of the school year, but he likes it. He's wanted to be Mr. Potter since practically the moment he met James. Keeping it a secret is necessary, but that doesn't mean he likes it. He wants to shout it at people as they pass by. He wants everyone to look at him and know what family he belongs to, but he wants that to happen in the future. Lily knowing, right now, is scary. But she says she'll keep it a secret, and all he can do is hope that she's telling the truth.

"Sure," Sirius says, "our new friend Lily. Why not?"

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Regulus is younger than canon, and Sirius is finally promoted to run away from home after he comes home in 1975 and finds his brother covered in bruises and discovers their mother had used the cruciatus on him. He turns up at the Potter’s with no prior warning with a six year-old Regulus in tow.

Established James/Sirius, lots of hurt/comfort and angst, and Regulus is adorable and Sirius will do literally anything for his baby brother.

((A/N: Warning for non-specific child abuse in keeping with the prompt))

"Hey. How are things at the death house?"

Sirius snorts. "This isn't the death house, this is the grim house. Death house is over in Wales, I'm afraid."

"Ah, my mistake. It's easy to get confused when your father died so recently; you understand."

Sirius should maybe not find that funny, considering how recently that death was. But his father was a distant figure at best, and at most realistic, a weird hermit that sometimes showed up during the winter hols to state that Sirius was bigger than before. He laughs, then glances over his shoulder to make sure his mum didn't hear that-- all clear. He looks back to the mirror. "It's fine. Well," he corrects a moment later, "it's weird. Mum's been acting so strange, and I swear, it's as if Regulus doesn't even exist. He's six. I remember being noticeable at six, but I never see him running around or yelling or anything I did at that age."

"Maybe he's just a quiet child. I've heard they exist," James grins.

"We're Black's. Making a scene is in our blood."

"He's got time to learn. And it's only been a day. Maybe he's intimidated by you or something. How's your mum acting weird, anyway? Is it because you didn't go to the funeral?"

"I dunno." That would be a plausible explanation, but he's not sure that's it. She sent a Howler when he didn't show, and that's usually enough to get it out of her system. Sirius chews on his lip as he tries to think of an example. "Just off. Like when you tell a joke and they do laugh but there's a pause that shouldn't be there. It's not something you can put your finger on, but you can sense it."

"I think I know what you mean, but your mother is kind of always like that to me." His head turns, listening to something Sirius can't catch, then he's waving goodbye. "Mum's calling me, got to go. Remember to ask your mum when you can come spend the night. I miss you."

"I'll ask her first thing. Love you."

"Love you too." James presses a smacking kiss to the mirror that makes Sirius laugh, and then he's gone.

Sirius heads to his room and cleans up a bit. Merlin, did his mum tell Kreacher to not clean his room while he was at Hogwarts? He didn't pay it any mind last night because he was tired, but there's a layer of dust that shouldn't be here. Come to think of it, Kreacher didn't make dinner last night, either. Has he seen Kreacher at all since he's been back? There's no way he died; Mother would've been more upset about that than her husband, and he would've heard about it.

What probably happened is that she got pissed when Sirius told her where she could shove her plans for his future and told Kreacher to not do things for him. It would explain the room, and if he's not supposed to do things for Sirius, then avoiding him is the best route. Damn it. That does sound like something she'd do. Sirius sighs and settles in for a deeper clean than he planned, because who knows how long it's been? 

His housekeeping spells are a bit shoddy but he does alright. He unpacks, switches out the photo in the picture frame by his bed. It goes from one photo of him and James to a different photo of him and James. The pictures look so similar, he notes. They took it at the same part of Hogwarts, but it hadn't been on purpose, so there's the same archway, flowers, even the same family of birds. The only thing that looks different about it is the signs of aging, losing just that more baby fat and getting taller. Their smiles are the same, though.

"Oh shit," he says after seeing the time. He almost missed dinner.

Or at least that's what he thought until he gets downstairs and doesn't see anyone. Nothing on the table, no one in the seats. "Mum? Regulus? Mum?" Nothing. "Kreacher?" Still nothing. He frowns. That's odd. "Mum?" he calls again, checking the sitting room. When he finds no one, he throws up his hands. Guess it's just him for dinner. He heads to the basement-- that's where the good stuff is. A nice cut of meat, a bottle of wine...

He opens the door, and there's the nearly imperceptible pop of a silencing charm being broken followed by screams. "What the-" Sirius races down the stairs, eyes widening in horror at what he sees. Between one breath and the next, his wand is in his hand and he stuns his mother. She collapses, the spell lifting off Regulus simultaneously. Regulus is gasping for breath, the effort interrupted too often with sobs and whines of pain. "It's okay, it's okay," Sirius promises, although he doesn't know how it's going to be okay since their mother seems to have lost her fucking mind and there's no one here for him to ask for help.

When Sirius picks him up, Regulus clings to him, small hands fisted in his robes with a strength he shouldn't have. He figures that out when he tries to put Regulus down so he can re-pack what he just unpacked and can't get him free. There's no time to find a better solution, so he shifts to holding him with one arm and has his wand in the other. It's a hack-job of packing, but his room is in his bag, and that's what's important. He goes to Regulus's room-- in a poor state of disrepair, really what happened to Kreacher?-- and does the same there. 

Regulus's tears are silent now, but there's still the occasional gasp of pain as Sirius moves. This is more than the Cruciatus Curse at work. He needs a healer, but Sirius can hardly show up at St. Mungo's like this. He's not an adult, and Regulus is so young that they'd insist on calling Walburga in which would just make matters worse. He needs- James. Yes, that's true, he needs James. James is good at healing spells and knows more of them than Sirius does, and although he never planned on taking the Potter's up on their offer, they'd long since told Sirius that he was welcome there anytime.

He isn't looking forward to going through the floo holding someone, but he doesn't have a lot of options right now. Regulus is too shaken to use the floo on his own, and he won't let go of Sirius to try. 

He grabs a handful of floo powder, steps inside... and then is ejected back into the room at Grimmauld Place. "Bugger," he mutters. Mum must've closed the floo. Why would she do that? It made no bloody sense- but then he can't expect her to make sense at all right now, since hurting Regulus is also senseless. Why would she...? Just why?

The floo isn't an option. He doesn't have money for the Knight Bus ever since Mum stopped giving him an allowance when he was thirteen. He doesn't know how to take a Muggle bus, much less if it could get him from Grimmauld Place to the Potter's house. That leaves flying, he realises with a grimace. There are brooms in the cupboard under the stairs and he grabs one. He's not fond of flying and he's never done it with a passenger before, but he has no other choice.

"We have to fly, and then we'll get you some help, okay?"

Regulus gives no response. Shit.

Sirius doesn't think about much as he flies. Mostly he's worried about Regulus falling off the broom if he suddenly decides to let go of Sirius's robes, and the rest of his thoughts are occupied with wondering if James will be happy to see him or just stressed out. 

He doesn't give any thought to how it'll look to the Potter's when they open the door and see him holding a shaky six year old, asking for help, but then he's stood there, looking at them as they take in the sight he makes, and it occurs to him that calling James on the mirror wouldn't have gone amiss.

*

After a hundred different healing and diagnostic spells-- who knew Mrs. Potter trained to be a healer after Hogwarts?-- Regulus is doing better and is asleep. Of course, he's asleep on Sirius's lap, so even though all he wants is to curl up on top of James, he can't. Mr. and Mrs. Potter are in the other dining room, discussing what to do from here. Sirius thinks his mother must be under the influence of a spell, but he knows they don't believe that. Whether she is or not, she won't be able to take care of Regulus any time soon-- even if she could, there's no way Regulus would want to go back. And Sirius doesn't want to be in the house with her either.

"What are you thinking?" James asks. He keeps his voice down to not wake up Regulus. Sirius does the same when he responds.

"That this is fucked."

"Yeah. Bit of an understatement," James says with a grimace. "That stuff I said on the mirror-"

Sirius shakes his head, cutting him off. "You couldn't know. No one could've guessed my mum would turn barmy overnight." He glances towards the door to the dining room, hoping that something will slip through from the Potter's conversation and he'll know what they're thinking.

"What do you think will happen?" James asks, following the direction of his thoughts.

"I dunno," he replies, but it's a lie. Barely a second later, he adds, "Emancipation for me. Housing Regulus with the closest relative willing to take him in. Cygnus and Druella won't do it, they said they were done being around kids after me." And they meant it. "Bellatrix would, except she doesn't want any kids. Andromeda's next in line, and she'll say yes, unless Ted has some problem with it. So I guess I find somewhere to stay, and he goes off with Andromeda."

"If you're emancipated, couldn't you take him in?"

"Legally that would work, but we've still got Hogwarts."

"Stay here."

Sirius stares at him. He wants to and hopes more than anything that it's offered to him officially, but... "Your parents-"

"Would let you. Mum and Dad adore you. This is probably what they're talking about in there. C'mon, you know they wanted more than one kid. After tonight, they might have two more, and they’ll be bloody thrilled."

*

Several years later

"We're summoned to Hogwarts," Sirius says.

"Again?"

"Yep. What do you think he did this time?"

"Nothing worth us getting dragged up there," James groans. "We got up to all sorts when we were in school, and they only called our parents in once. Regulus isn't half as bad as we were."

"Yeah, well we didn't get caught."

James blinks, thinking that over. "I forgot that bit," he says candidly, making Sirius laugh. "He's in Slytherin, shouldn't he be better at sneaking around?"

"Yeah, I asked him about that, apparently it's a myth. Snape was not the best sample to base the rest on, he says. Or he's playing the long game and lying to me, but I really think they don't care as much as we thought."

"Huh." James looks like his entire worldview has changed. Sirius remembers having the same reaction when Regulus told him. It's made Sirius wonder why Slytherin has the terrible reputation because they largely don't break the rules, but Gryffindors are viewed as better when they broke the rules, often just to see if they can get away with it.

They floo over to Hogwarts, and Professor Dumbledore is there to greet them. "I hope this didn't interrupt anything important."

"It's fine," James says.

"Do you want to tell us what this is about before we get in there?" Sirius asks, loping his arm through James's as they walk. 'Disgustingly domestic' is what Regulus calls them, and Sirius is happy to keep proving him correct.

People say that Regulus is in his 'rebellious phase'; Sirius doesn't believe it. He's not rebelling and he's not acting out, he's having fun. Experimenting, even. Loosing five dozen roosters in the Great Hall sounds hilarious, and Sirius is sorry they didn't think of it when they were in school. And the hair dye thing? Completely harmless. Giving all the house elves twelve hours off made Sirius lose his composure laughing-- something he tried not to do while in the office being told about it-- but Regulus wanted to see what would happen to the running of the castle without them. Freeing the hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures was an accident, so it hardly counts, even though he got detention for it.

There's a wide range of possibilities, and Sirius doesn't know which kind they're expecting today.

"I'm afraid it's a rather delicate matter. Mr. Black has asked that you not be told anything without him in the room, and given the nature of this... incident, I agreed."

James and Sirius share a worried look, and they're thinking the same thing: we're too young to be raising a teenager. Wasn't it just yesterday they were walking these halls themselves? That feels like the truth, but simultaneously, it was a lifetime ago. Sirius is only ten years older than Regulus, but shortly after graduating Hogwarts, Mr. and Mrs. Potter had died, leaving them alone with the responsibility of raising him. They asked for help from Andromeda where they could, but she had her own child to raise, and their schedules were never so aligned that they could ask for her assistance at the drop of a hat.

Sirius squeezes James's hand and gets a comforting squeeze in response. Right. They can handle this, like they handled everything else. Regulus threw them curveballs sometimes, but they always worked through it in the end.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Could you do one where Sirius is a Gryffindor outcast after getting sorted and gets attacked/bullied by Gryffindors and Slytherins alike and James defends him :D

Sirius is a child, but he's not an idiot. He knows that, in addition to his parents being unhappy about his Sorting, Slytherins are unhappy about his Sorting. Gryffindors too. He's pissed off his parents-- and all the extended family-- a fair few times by age eleven, but it's something else entirely to have people his age upset. The adults in his family would get mad, but he knew exactly how to deal with that anger; the other students are cruel, and he's lost as for how to handle it.

Like he said, he's not an idiot. He knows that there's nothing he can do to make the other students like him. With his family, if he went to another room and waited half an hour, they'd be fine. With his peers, waiting doesn't seem to do anything except-- maybe-- make them think he's weak. He doesn't understand how trying to give someone space to stop being angry counts as weak, but when he gives them space, the next time they see him, it's twice as bad like they're having a contest with themselves.

The bright spot in all of this is James. They became friends on the Hogwarts Express, and when he Sorted into Gryffindor, it cemented their relationship as best friends. James is sticking with him and hasn't faltered, not for an instant.

When Sirius finds a massive nest of snakes in his bed, James helps him clean it up without a second thought-- though he, like Sirius, isn't thrilled about picking up so many snakes. They're both visibly nervous about it and pretending otherwise, and neither one pokes fun; if they both pretend that it doesn't bother them, maybe that makes it true. When ink explodes in his bag, coating everything in it and ruining his homework, James is right there beside him, telling the professors that he completed it and shouldn't be punished. When one shoe of every pair in his wardrobe goes missing, James lends him a pair of his own.

It goes on and on, these things charitably called 'pranks' by Professor McGonagall. Sirius thinks it's more mean-spirited than that, and while they don't talk about it, he knows James thinks the same. It's not happening to everyone. It's not happening to all the first years or all the Gryffindors, and it's not happening to all so-called blood traitors; it's just him. It's just him, and everyone's in on it except his dormmates, so no one even tries to hide it when they're the guilty party. 

One day-- after cleaning up a bucket of bugs someone dumped on Sirius's head-- James turns to him with a grin, teeth glinting, and says, "I have an idea."

Two hours later, O'Connell and Smith scream and run out of their dormitory, sending Sirius and James into peals of laughter. They don't get detention for it, even when the two fourth years go to Professor McGonagall with their accusations; "It's a harmless prank," she says dismissively, and Sirius likes her more knowing that it's how she responds to everyone, not just him.

"Mission one was a success," James says, chest puffed out in pride of a job well done.

"Mission one?" Sirius asks. "Is this going to be a habit?"

"Of course. We can't let them get away with it, the arseholes."

Peter and some bloke named Remus are the only dormmates in the room with them, and it's obvious they're listening, though they are pretending not to.

"The first one went off without a hitch. We make a good team," James says, elbowing him companionably. "And there's eighty-one more people we need to get. Well- maybe more like sixty?" he amends. He pulls a sheet of parchment out from his bedside table and squints at it. "Some people are on here more than once."

"You kept track?" 

"Of course." 

He's endlessly charmed by that, by how James cares so much about him that he's been keeping track of this from the beginning and never once faltered in believing they'd get revenge one day. Sirius peers over his shoulder at the list; it's not just names. "You wrote down the date?"

"And the offense."

Ink. Shoes. Snakes in bed. Bed is underlined three times. Paint-- red. Maggots. Snake-- one, big. Paint-- black. Dead mice. Black bird. Paint-- green. On and on the list goes, some with details, like the colour of the paint or the location it happened. Sirius skims the whole list and can't think of a single one that's missing. "Wow."

"What do you think-- chronological, or by severity?"

"Random," Sirius decides. "I don't want anyone to know if they're next."

They share a grin, an expression that promises not just revenge, but a puzzle that needs solving-- what exactly they should do for each of these, what will make the punishment equal the crime. They don't have time to plan before supper, which is a shame.

Sirius has it in his head the revenge is how they're going to operate, so he's surprised when-- after a passing upperclassman 'accidentally' spills burning hot soup down his back-- James flings a handful of green beans at their face without a moment's hesitation. Then, apparently deciding that wasn't enough, James throws mashed potatoes, which make a comical splat as it covers their eyes. It's enough to have Sirius laughing, forgetting for a few moments the pain prickling along his back.

James gets detention for that-- so does the second year instigator-- but he's unrepentant and winks at Sirius the moment Professor Grubbly-Plank looks away. Warmth blooms in Sirius's chest, bright and resilient and addictive. He wants it to be like this for the rest of his life.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you do one where they are both obliviously pining for each other? Maybe James pranking Slytherin! Sirius because he thought he was a swot (but really, it’s for attention) and Sirius finding it amusing (but he really likes James’s attention on him or summat) which frustrates James to no end.

Sirius Black, catch of the school but a Slytherin, walks into the Great Hall. He's promptly sprayed by golden paint, catching half of his face, some of his hair, and a section of his robes near the shoulder and neckline. James almost went with a nice Gryffindor red, but he doesn't want anyone to think he's bleeding; this is a prank, not an attack. He went with gold because Sirius has grey eyes and silver is a Slytherin colour but gold is Gryffindor, and it'll be nice for him to finally look less than perfect; gold will be unflattering to his skin tone, James is confident.

Sirius freezes in surprise, but as quickly as the paint started to hit him, it stops. He glances at the shoulder now covered in gold, and in moving to look, some of his hair drifts into view-- also gold. He grins and runs a hand through his hair on the effected side, then glances at his fingers. "No bleed over," he notes. He reaches for his wand and casts a spell to clean it up, but of course James thought of that possibility and accounted for it. Sirius waves his wand and nothing changes. His smile, perplexingly, gets brighter as he notices that the paint hasn't lightened. His eyes go to the Gryffindor table and easily land on James, almost as if he already knew where he's sitting. He winks, still with that wide smile, and James's heart starts beating harder in annoyance.

He meant to bother Sirius with this, not make him smile like a loon. And he still looks good, even though all evidence had pointed to him looking bad with gold. Instead of looking washed out with his complexion, he looks radiant, like the gold warmed him instead of making him look sallow in comparison. It didn't clash with his eyes, it enhanced the feeling that he's deserving of precious metals-- the silver of his eyes a bright spot to enhance the gold colour splashed across his cheek.

Mission result: total failure.

As Sirius turns towards the Slytherin table, easily accepting his golden fate, James scowls down at his food. Gods, he's such an arse. Nobody should react this way when James targets them-- despite what he said to professors when caught-- and they certainly shouldn't react this way after years of such treatment. He started back in first year, trying to make the uptight Black heir have a breakdown that there was something he couldn't control and his parents couldn't fix for him; James knew the type on sight and was confident he would succeed with ease. But first year passed with a single negative reaction, and by the time second year came about, he started (for lack of a better word) enjoying the pranks, never caring if they were ultimately harmless like the paint, or mean spirited like he constantly did in third year. Even that time in fifth year, when he Vanished all of Sirius's clothes in the middle of the Great Hall, Sirius laughed, made some sort of joke to the professors about how he couldn't get in trouble for it because it wasn't his fault, then looked right at James as he turned to get new clothes and smirked.

He's infuriating, seemingly going out of his way to show James how much he doesn't care what he tries next. It's a battle of wills that James has been failing since day one, but he refuses to not win in the end. He just needs some new ideas to shake things up. Hell, at this point, he'll take surprising Sirius with what he's done, even if the other man eventually laughs at it.

"I don't suppose you're on the cusp of letting this go?" Peter asks, hoping for the best but with realistic expectations, considering he knows how James is.

In response, James glares at him.

Peter let's out a small sigh and murmurs, "Yeah, that's what I thought."

"I'll get him one of these days, you'll see," James says, more than a little tetchy.

"You've gotten him every time," Remus says in confusion. He's working on homework and only caught the last sentence.

"He wants for Black to not have such a good humour about it," Peter explains, then turns back to James. "Which is stupid." Remus tunes them out and goes back to his homework-- either because he doesn't care to try to give James advice that he never listens to, or because he actually needs to concentrate on his homework; it can go both ways with Moony. "Anyone else would talk to a professor, and you'd never be able to make Quidditch practice because you'd be holed up in detention every day of the year. He's built a resilience to you, and this is a good thing. It's keeping you out of trouble." Peter pauses and makes a face. "It's keeping you out of detention," he amends.

James continues to glare across the Great Hall at Sirius Black.

Obsessive seems too kind a word for this.

Over at the Slytherin table, Sirius is also dealing with his friends, he's just having a better time of it than James.

"I don't understand why you put up with any of this," Severus hisses. "You can easily bring this up with your parents and get him punished."

Sirius shrugs and takes a sip of pumpkin juice. "Why make a fuss? It's harmless."

"It's not always this harmless," Magaera points out.

He shrugs again. "It's funny."

"It's humiliating!" she insists.

"Strange that I don't feel very humiliated then, isn't it?"

"Are you... doing this to mess with Potter?" Severus asks.

"Partially."

"And the other parts?" Megaera asks. She's known him too long to let that 'partially' become 'all'.

"I find the attention flattering, and it's rather amusing. He's spent the entirety of our school years trying to find something that will make me mad. He still does well in his classes, but imagine what he could do if he took that drive and applied it elsewhere."

Severus's mouth curls. It's almost funny how much he hates James Potter. James hasn't been nice to him, to be sure, but everything that Sirius lets roll off of him, Severus takes personally. "He seems to do well enough in Quidditch with his attention diverted."

Megaera scoffs. "Why do you care about Quidditch so much? None of us play, and we only go to the matches so we have something fun to do." Megaera and Sirius have fun at the matches, at least. Their other friend seems to hate them but shows up to every single one anyways.

Severus scowls further, and Sirius laughs and responds for him. "He only cares because Potter does so well in it."

"Seriously?" Megaera asks, raising an eyebrow at Severus.

"No, it's..." he struggles to think of a good lie and lands on "...House loyalty."

Sirius and Megaera give identical hums of skepticism, and she turns from the question of Quidditch to go back to the prank that started this. "I know you said cleaning it magically didn't work, but do you think a shower will help?"

"Probably, but I don't have time before tonight."

"I have makeup. We can try it where it hit your skin?"

"I'm not bothered," Sirius laughs.

"That's because you're barmy," Severus mutters, under his breath but loud enough for them to hear.

That's where the thread of conversation ends and they begin talking about their first class: Potions.

Sirius's mind lingers on the topic of James, though. His friends won't stop speaking to him or something equally ludicrous if he tells them that he fancies James, but they will look at him like he's sprouted a second head. Easy acceptance is not a possibility-- not that he's going to let that stop him from making a move before the end of their Hogwarts years. 

He's known for a while that he fancies James. It seems to him that James fancies him as well, otherwise how could he explain all these pranks? Most people think it's because Sirius gets under his skin, and he agrees with that except what the definition of 'gets under his skin' is. James seems incapable of not thinking about him, needing to poke and prod to make sure he always has Sirius's attention. He does. Sirius thought it was obvious, even if he tried to mask it from being clear to first years. He can't help but be enchanted by the everything that makes up James Potter.

*

"Does that even count as a prank?" Peter asks skeptically. He's squinting across the Hall, as if closing his eyes will help bring the scene into focus. Flowers rained down on Sirius. It doesn't feel like a prank, and he has no idea how it can possibly be justified as one. Maybe if he tilts his head a little it will suddenly make sense?

But James says, "Yes, of course it counts."

"Uh-huh, how's that?"

"Roses are his least favourite flower."

"How do you even know that?" Remus asks.

"He mentioned it once," he answers, waving him off.

"Okay, following that logic-- giving him a bunch of roses when he doesn't like them very much-- roses are your favourites," Peter points out. "How do you think that's going to come across?"

James looks at his friend, bewildered. "Why would it come across as anything but a prank? I swear, the closer to exams we get, the stranger you become." 

Peter grumbles under his breath, and James stops paying attention to him since clearly he isn't going to be helpful.

Hmph. Sirius doesn't look annoyed or upset in the slightest. He looks happy, for Merlin's sake. James has no idea what he's doing wrong here, but making Sirius's day better is not how this was supposed to go.

*

James and Sirius see each other during class-- most of their courses are the same and have been from year three-- but what surprises James is the way Sirius is beaming. It's not a normal, good-humoured smile or smirk the way he normally does for the pranks to show James that he's not bothered. He seems genuinely happy. Clearly, whatever happened to him this morning before the flowers was enough to brighten his mood for the entire day, no matter what else happens. For Merlin's sake, they're sat in History of Magic right now; no one likes sitting through Binns and his horrid lecturing.

On top of his strangely happy mood, he keeps sending James his pleased smile, as if they are sharing this happiness. James has no idea what's going on, but he doesn't want to admit that to Sirius, so when he shoots James a smile, he raises an eyebrow like he's expecting something. Hopefully, it'll take care of itself and he won't be made the fool. Again.

The rest of the day passes quickly, with James alternating between paying attention to class and looking at Sirius-- not an entirely new rhythm for him, he admits, but he's more distracted than usual, unable to pay adequate attention to either when he tries.

Evening comes and there's still an hour before dinner. Unfortunately, James's lack of concentration during the day lingers, and he walks the corridors aimlessly with his bag still over his shoulder because he hasn't had a chance to drop it off in Gryffindor Tower yet.

He spots a few other students making their way through the halls as his feet carry him around, but no greetings are exchanged. They're heading to their destination and he... Merlin, he feels lost, despite knowing Hogwarts like the back of his hand. Maybe he's especially tired today, and hungry now on top of it.

Sirius surprises him by coming around the corridor, and his feet stop automatically instead of going around him. Sirius strides forward with a smile and a bouquet of roses-- he suspects they're the same roses that James poured over him this morning. "I know these won't last long," he says, confirming his suspicion, "but I figure it's only right to give a few back to you. Roses are your favourite, right?" Sirius phrases it like a question, but there's a knowing gleam in his eyes as he holds the bouquet out to James.

"Erm. Yeah." He accepts them slowly, unsure what's happening.

"You were much more forward than I was expecting," Sirius continues. "With how it's been going the past couple years, I thought we were going to graduate before you asked me out."

Ask- what? Surely he doesn't mean 'ask out' like a date-

"We've been dancing around each other for long enough, so you were right to be so obvious." He chuckles. "Maybe I needed a bit of a kick in the arse instead of expecting you to do everything." And Sirius kisses him. It's a light thing, barely brushing against his lips, but it is definite contact, their mouths touching with purpose.

So he did mean a date. That's... not actually ridiculous. James pulls him back in with one hand, the other holding the roses out of the way so they won't be crushed. He wants a real kiss, damn it. After all these years of not noticing a fancy when it's right in front of him, he deserves a proper kiss.

And Sirius is more than happy to give it to him.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hello again! Could you do one where Sirius gets transferred to Durmstrang or Beauxbatons by his parents after his first year? Obviously, James was heartbroken about it but they reunite when the triwizard tournament was hosted at hogwarts. Maybe you could do one on feelings realization where James thinks he’d be excited to see him again and he was but in another way *winks*

Everyone was buzzing about the Triwizard Tournament, and James is excited for it too, but for a different reason then any of his classmates. The tournament will be fun, he's sure, and he's planning to put his name in to see if he's chosen (just like everyone else of age), but any excitement he has for the tournament itself is dampened by knowing that it's at the expense of the Quidditch season. 

What he's excited for are the visiting schools. Specifically one student. Sirius Black was his best friend, almost instantaneously, in his first year at Hogwarts. Tragedy struck in the form of the Black parents removing Sirius from Hogwarts and instead enrolling him in Durmstrang. Mr. and Mrs. Black didn't like that Sirius was in Gryffindor or that James was his best mate, so they pulled him from Hogwarts to separate them. At the time, thinking of it that way felt like a conspiracy, but it was the truth-- proven correct when, two years later, Sirius's little brother Regulus arrived at Hogwarts like nothing happened, and no official excuse was given. Sirius's brother was Sorted into Slytherin, and he's been in Hogwarts ever since.

They've kept in touch with letters, but nothing is the same as that first year, when James and Sirius ran around the school together, planned pranks, shared looks in class, partnered up every chance they had, and did their homework together. Being penpals is better than nothing, but it would be a lie to say he's unhappy about the Triwizard Tournament happening this year. It's seventh year, they'll be able to reconnect before graduating and maybe, just maybe, James can see if Sirius would like to stay in Britain... with him. Bulgaria is so far away, and when they're adults, they'll have jobs to attend to, leaving little time to visit friends abroad. The Tournament will run for long enough that James can try to convince him that Britain is where he should live, and he's determined to make the most of the time afforded to him.

Professor McGonagall is nervous about the impression Hogwarts is going to make on Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, snapping at all of them to straighten up and fix their clothing. James can barely hear her with how intently he's watching the doors. He'll recognise Sirius as soon as he sees him; Sirius has said (more than once) that he and Regulus look very similar. Will Sirius recognise him? It's been years, and unlike Sirius, he doesn't have a sibling he can point to for reference. Sirius will know it's him after he starts waving and grinning like an idiot though, because there's only one person at this school that will be that excited to see him.

Beauxbatons arrives first, and James tries to hide his disappointment. Given the way Peter elbows him when McGonagall nears, he didn't do a good job of it. But Durmstrang is next, it'll only be a minute until they're walking in, the wait is nearly over-

He feels like he's vibrating in place. In their last letters, talking about the Tournament and discussing the fact that Sirius was going to attend, Sirius sounded excited to see him. James hopes Sirius is looking forward to this as much as he is, because he wants to blow off all the official tournament shite so they can spend as much time together as physically possible.

Durmstrang starts to walk in, James's heart is pounding, and then he spots Sirius and his heart goes double-time. Sirius sees him, grins, and winks, and James is pretty sure his heart has a life of its own now, racing so quickly it's like it wants to escape from his body entirely-- and perhaps throw itself at Sirius's feet and beg to be held by him.

He looks...

He looks so good that James's brain stops working.

To say that he looks like his brother is a misrepresentation of his features. There's enough of a shared likeness that it's obvious they're related, but it's a bit like saying a house cat looks like a lion. He's gotten handsome in the time that they haven't seen each other. He shouldn't be surprised, should he? The last time they saw each other, they were kids. Sirius was twelve, that's nothing. But now they're both adults, and he can't help but feel that Sirius has grown into it exceedingly well. Features that used to make him cute at twelve have refined so he looks like nothing less than a living work of art.

Durmstrang colours look good on him. Deep red and warm brown line all of their uniforms. Gryffindor red made Sirius look bright and happy, and the Durmstrang red makes him look... advanced. Dangerous. Dangerous in a way that suits him and means that James's heart is in danger of unnatural palpitations for the entirety of his visit.

He can't stop staring (even though the entourage has continued down the hallway so all he's doing is staring at the back of his head) and he knows that someone is bound to notice that he's staring, but he physically can't pull his eyes away. It would be embarrassing if he was looking at anyone other than Sirius, he thinks. 

James only snaps out of it when Sirius disappears from his sight altogether. He glances at Peter out of the corner of his eye to see if he has any thoughts about this-- that he wants to share and is unwilling to wait to tease him over-- and finds that his friend is pointedly not looking at him with a not-completely-hidden curl of amusement to his mouth. James hopes Peter knows that, silly as he may be acting already, he has no regrets. Also, he's sure that he'll make more a fool of himself while Sirius is here; this is the tip of the iceberg, or perhaps the first nudge of a boulder before it's pushed off a cliff.

The Welcoming Feast for the visiting students is grand, marked by the ridiculous decorations and the fact that Professor Dumbledore is going to give a speech. It's short, as most speeches by Dumbledore are, and then they're all free to talk and eat as they usually would-- but with some new friends to make conversation with.

Sirius walks right over to James sat at the Gryffindor table, taking the open spot next to him-- left intentionally, James wanted this to happen-- with a grin. "Long time, no see, mate," he says, and it's almost like he never left with how easy it is to talk to him. James worried that it would be awkward for a bit while they readjusted to each other, but it's not like that. There are no awkward pauses or stumbling over each other while talking. He slots back in like he's always been here.

The feast is good, and James doesn't want it to end. Sirius will still be here tomorrow, but when they all have to go to bed, Sirius will be off with the other Durmstrang students instead of in Gryffindor Tower with James.

Merlin, how is he going to survive this? Seeing Sirius every day will be a marked improvement on their relationship so far, but that doesn't mean he wants to say goodbye every night. Saying hello every morning will give him a certain rush, he knows, but he'd rather go without the highs and lows and just have Sirius with him the whole time.

"You're being ridiculous," Peter says, once they're in the dormitory and James has finished waxing about his woes.

"Excuse you."

Peter is unsympathetic. "You finally get to see him and spend the year with him. What's it matter if he sleeps somewhere else?"

James can't answer that. Rather, he can, but he doesn't like the way Remus and Peter have been looking at him since Sirius left for the night, and he doesn't want to make it worse by admitting the totality of what he's feeling. "He used to be in here with us, you know."

"Right, I remember," Peter responds, "but that was years ago. You're taking all the same classes; you'll be spending plenty of time with him even if he's not here. And this way, you won't stay up late every night talking to him instead of sleeping."

James wants to sacrifice sleep in exchange for talking to Sirius.

Then it hits him, and it's so obvious that he almost hits himself for not thinking of it sooner. He can sneak onto Durmstrang's boat to talk to Sirius if it's past curfew. Or he can sneak Sirius in here. It's not difficult to get someone in Gryffindor Tower, and he doubts the protections on Durmstrang's ship are too strenuous, considering it was for the voyage to Hogwarts. He'll talk to him about it tomorrow since he doesn't know what the rooming situation is for Durmstrang's students, and besides, it was a long journey and he might like a little extra sleep tonight.

Less than an hour later, something taps on the window. He's the only one awake, so he gets up to check on it.

James has a sneaking suspicion he knows what it is, but if he's wrong, then he'll be disappointed-

He grins, and Sirius returns it, hanging outside the window like he hasn't a care in the world. James opens the window for him, steps back so he can climb in, and shoots silencing spells at everyone's curtains. Without thinking too much about it, he throws himself at Sirius, wrapping his arms around him in a hug.

"Not too much, then?" Sirius asks, returning the hug.

It doesn't sound like Sirius needs a response. His tone was lighthearted, teasing, but James is going to reply honestly because he wants Sirius to know exactly how he feels about it. "Never," he promises.

*

Having Sirius back is wonderful in a way James can't put words to. It's like the whole world is that much brighter for him being in it; he doesn't understand why no one else is similarly invigorated by the visiting students, but maybe that's because they aren't hanging out with Sirius specifically. With how much James is monopolizing his time, it's not a surprise that he doesn't have the opportunity for anyone else.

And Sirius is gorgeous, of course he is. James knew that from the instant he saw him walk in in his Durmstrang uniform. It's just that it is perhaps affecting him more than he anticipated. 

It is conceivable that he has a massive crush on Sirius. 

It's also conceivable that he's attracted to his brain as well as his body, which puts him in a difficult position, because that's less of a passing fancy and more of a way to get his heart broken. He can already feel it happening. Sirius hasn't come anywhere close to rejecting him (because they haven't broached the topic of dating in any way, not in current interests or past partners), but it's like his body is preparing him for it preemptively. It's horrible. He hates feeling like this. He can't stand it for long, which means that he's going to have to talk to Sirius just to get it out of the way, and he's not looking forward to it. He knows that he's going to be rejected, but maybe it's the same as physical pain: waiting for it is often worse than dealing with it once it happens.

He means to talk to Sirius about it the next time he sees him, but the expression on Sirius's face takes precedence over asking him on a date. His brow is furrowed, a tight curve to his mouth that twists more like a grimace than the smile it's clearly trying to be. 

"What's wrong?" James asks as soon as he's sat beside him. 

"Nothing," he lies, but he doesn't put much effort in making it believable. He sighs a moment later. "Got a letter from my parents." 

"I didn't know they wrote you." It feels like the sort of thing Sirius would've mentioned in passing, not wanting to draw attention to it, but wanting James in his life too much to not ever bring it up. 

"They don't," Sirius confirms. 

"What's the occasion?" he asks, knowing that he'll hate the answer.

"You. Apparently, word has reached their ears that we're spending time together, and my mum decided to be a prick about it." 

James makes a face. 'Be a prick about it' could refer to any number of things, from being generally unpleasant in tone to removing Sirius from Durmstrang so that he would no longer have reason to be at Hogwarts for the Tournament. Knowing what he does of the Black matriarch, anything in that range is possible. "What're they going to do about it?" 

"Nothing, yet." He makes a vague gesture to the discarded parchment. "Only warnings, for now."

"To stay away from me, or stop being so friendly?"

"Something to the effect of never laying my eyes on you," he smirks, looking directly at James as he says it.

James grins. "So you're telling them to fuck off?"

"No, I'm just going to ignore them. No need to hasten the fire. With any luck, they'll be stuck on threats by the time I graduate, and then they won't be able to do anything."

He wants to be happy about that-- and a part of him is-- but the phrasing at the end, well, it sounds like Sirius plans on getting out of his parent's reach, which would put him away from Britain. "Are you leaving?" he can't help but ask.

Sirius blinks, taken aback. "I- well, I haven't thought of all the details. I've got a few more months before the end of term."

"But you're not staying here."

"Probably not," he admits reluctantly.

It's only seeing that reluctance that has James pressing forward. Sirius has some sort of hesitation to leaving, and maybe the reason is him. "I want you to stay. The past few months have been the best I've had at Hogwarts since first year. I missed you. We- we click, you know?"

One corner of Sirius's mouth curves up. "Yeah, we do. I admit I don't want to leave at the end of this year and never see you again."

"I don't want that either. So let's... not do that."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that," James confirms. He sounds more confident than he is, but acting unsure won't help either of them. "We can do what we want."

Sirius snorts, amused, but he nods all the same. 

"Speaking of things we want, I was wondering if you wanted to go on a date."

"I mean, yeah. I've never been on a date, but I do plan on going on one someday. Someday soon, hopefully, but I guess that depends on-"

"No, I meant with me. Do you want to go on a date with me?"

"Oh." Sirius blinks, then grins. "And here I thought you'd never ask."

"You could've asked me," James points out, but there's no heat to it; he's too happy that they're going on a date to be upset about anything. He was wrong about getting his heart broken; he's never been so pleased to be wrong before.

He shrugs. "I was going to give it another month before I tried."

"You had this timed out for yourself?" he asks incredulously.

"Eh."

"'Eh'? What does that mean?"

Sirius grins at him, then leans forward and presses a kiss to his cheek, lighting him up from the inside out. "Does it matter? We still got here."

James feels like he's flying but without the broomstick. It's the same exhilaration, and he loves it. "Yeah, we did."

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Can you write about James absolutely hating valentines day because it’s a day where he has to keep watching people try to woo Sirius... little did he know, Sirius only has eyes for him <333

Sirius is laughing. 

The audacity of that traitor, just laughing the laugh that’s supposed to be only for James to hear, because of something Luca—or was it Liam?—said. James knows he could’ve come up with something much better, something that would’ve made Sirius laugh even harder, then turn to him with those beautiful, glittering grey eyes and cheeks flushed from the cold and the alcohol and the joy.

But he can’t, obviously, because Liam the utter dipshit is taking over Sirius’ life. James and Sirius were supposed to restock on some of their pranking supplies that day while the rest of the student population were busy locking lips and celebrating at Puddifoot’s when the slimy git decided it would be a good idea to replace James in Sirius’ Valentine’s weekend plans. As if watching people make passes at Sirius wasn’t annoying enough already. And then stupid Sirius with his stupid face that James stupidly can’t say no to, decided to stupidly agree to a stupid date at Three Broomsticks.

James scowls harder, hoping the intensity of his glare could yank the tosser out of the seat that should’ve been his. All that happens is Luca taking Sirius’ amusement as a sign to inch closer, sliding his hand up his knee. And Sirius just smiles at him, all warm and inviting. James wants to throw up. Maybe he could even aim it at Liam and call it an accident. Even Sirius wouldn’t be nice enough to continue entertaining a bloke covered in vomit.

His train of thought is interrupted when someone bumps into him from behind. “What the bloody fuck,”  comes a muffled swear with a faint Welsh accent, telling James that it’s just Moony. Belatedly, he remembers that he’s under his cloak. “What—oh, don’t tell me, Merlin and Morgana, is that you under there, James?”

James pokes his head out and grins sheepishly at an exasperated Remus and a bemused Regulus. “Hello, kind sirs, how may I help you?”

“What are you doing here? And why the hell are you hiding?”

James sniffs. “Well, I would’ve been with Sirius, but seeing as I’m so unimportant that he replaced me, I’m bored. Also, I’m not hiding, I’m just preventing this beautiful heirloom from my ancestors from collecting dust.”

Regulus snickers. “The way that thing gets used, there’s no way it would collect dust, even without you using it to spy on my brother.”

“I’m not spying!” 

Remus hums, quickly looking around. “So you’re just creepily watching his date under your cloak so he doesn’t notice you?”

James sniffs. “I need to make sure my replacement meets my standards.” 

“Salazar’s saggy balls, you’re transparent as fuck. You ought to be ashamed,” Regulus says, dragging them to a secluded booth. He digs his feet under James’ arse for warmth.

“I'm sure I don’t know what you mean,” James replies hotly, poking Regulus in the ribs as retaliation.

Remus raises an eyebrow. “You mean you’re not jealous?”

“That’s exactly what I mean.”

“Really?” It should be illegal how Regulus could inflect so much emotion into a tiny word. He had no right making six letters sound so disbelieving. 

“I just want to spend time with my best friend, goddamnit, without a random blonde wanker hanging off of him. Why is that such a big deal?”

“Last I checked, I’m one of your best friends and you never mope around when I go on a date,” Remus remarks.

“First of all, you’re this close to getting removed from my list of best friends, and second, I like Regulus even more than I like you. There’s no need to mope because it’s Reggie. Louis or Liam or whatever is not Reg.”

“As flattering as that is, you still aren’t making any sense,” Regulus says. “If you’re not jealous, then why does it matter who he’s dating? S’not like they’re getting married.”

James, who had resumed glaring at Sirius’ table, swirls around. “You think they might get married?”  he nearly screeches. “There’s no fucking way I’ll let—”

Regulus and Remus each grab an arm to pin him down. “Nobody’s getting married, bloody hell, how can you still be in denial?” Remus grumbles. “You’re even worse than Sirius.”

“I’m going to pretend like I know what that means, only because the alternative is Sirius keeping secrets and I don’t like that,” James says, yanking his arms from their grasp. “I’m calm now, you don’t need to keep holding me.”

The moment the two sit down, James dives under the table and makes a run for it. Regulus nearly gets a hold of him, but James’ Quidditch reflexes are enough to pull away. 

Regulus turns to Remus, eyes wide. “Should we—” 

Remus pauses, then shakes his head. “Not our responsibility to talk sense into those two. Honestly, for two students at the top of the class, they can be such idiots sometimes.”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, maybe a little more than that,” he concedes with a laugh. 

Regulus smiles. “Do you think they’ll finally confess?” he asks into the crook of Remus’ neck. 

Remus kisses his dark curls. “Not counting on it.”

“Hel-lo gentlemen,” James sing-songs as he squeezes into Sirius’ side of the booth, effectively blocking Luca’s hands from moving further up. “Nice day out, innit?”

“James Potter,” Sirius’ date greets with a smile that’s strained at the edges. 

“That’s me!” James says brightly. “So what’re we having today?”

“Prongs,” Sirius hisses under his breath. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Crashing your date,” James says. “Why?”

Sirius presses his eyes closed, breathes out, and then stands up. “I’m so sorry, Louis, to cut this short. If you’ll excuse us.” He pushes James out of the booth and drags him outside.

“What the hell, James?” Sirius asks, furious. He begins pacing back and forth, hands clenched at his sides. “I was enjoying my date. Why did you have to come and ruin everything?”

Something heavy falls to the pit of James’ stomach. “I’m sorry, I ruined everything?”

“Yes!” Sirius snaps. “You talk about Lily all the damn time, and now that you’re finally dating her, you decided you’d rather spend Valentine’s ruin my chances at having a nice boyfriend?”

James blinks. “I’m not—we’re not—we broke up weeks ago, Pads. And we were supposed to spend Valentine’s together.  Not with Lily or anyone else.”

Sirius pauses, taken aback. “Well, just because you don’t have a date doesn’t mean I can’t. We hang out all the time, why can’t I spend Valentine’s with someone I like? What’s wrong with me dating someone?”

“I don’t mind it when you date all those random birds,” James says, voice quiet. Nothing about this conversation is going as he expected, and he’s torn between equal amounts of anger and hurt. “I just don’t like Liam.” He doesn’t bring up the fact that up until now, he had thought that Sirius had liked spending time with him, preferred it even, to the company of others. He doesn’t bring up that he would rather spend time with Sirius than anyone else because it feels clingy when Sirius clearly doesn’t seem to share the same sentiment. 

“Louis,” Sirius corrects. “What, because he’s a bloke?”

James sputters. “What? No—it’s not—I don’t—Pads, you must know I don’t care about that.”

Sirius scoffs. “Then what is your problem?”

“Louis is,” James says. “I just don’t like him. I don’t want him to be dating you. I don’t want you dating him.  ”

“If it’s not because he’s a guy, then what is it?”

“I don’t know,” James replies miserably. He feels off-kilter and can’t get the right words to come out. “I just don’t know.”

“So it is  because he’s a bloke. There can't be any other reason why,” Sirius sneers, voice icy. James knows the Black’s ability to be cold and aloof remains in Sirius, but he never expected to be on the receiving end of it. It makes his thoughts screech to a halt. A lump forms in his throat, making it impossible to speak.

At James’ silence, Sirius laughs humorously. “Just great,” he spits out. “Of bloody course you’d be a fucking homophobe. As if the universe doesn’t hate me enough.” 

James opens his mouth to correct him, to tell him that that has never been and would never be an issue, that it’s something else but he just doesn’t know what. When he looks up, though, Sirius has already stormed off, leaving behind a cloud of confusion and hurt. 

“Remus told me I’d find you here,” Sirius says. He’s swaying on his heels by the door to the Room of Requirement, which currently looks like the Potters’ living room. He looks hesitant to enter but stubborn enough to not turn back. James turns to look at the dancing flames in the fireplace, knowing Sirius would see it as an invitation to come in.

“I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions too fast,” Sirius begins. “Or, well—I mean, I still would like to know why you don’t like Louis, but I didn’t mean to call you a homophobe.”

James doesn’t respond, taking some time to mull over his answer. Sirius sits cross-legged on the ground next to him, knees close enough to touch.

“Pan,” James blurts out. So much for coming up with a thoughtful response. Upon Sirius’ confused look, James clarifies, “I’m pan. Would be kinda stupid to be a homophobe, don’t you think?”

Sirius nods slowly, looking away for a moment and swallowing harshly. “Good for you. Um. That’s—that’s great. Obviously. That would be rather stupid, yeah.”

James looks at him carefully. “Erm, does that change things?”

“No!” Sirius exclaims. “Of course not! No, it’s just great. Now that we established that we’re both single and queer, I can finally take you to those Muggle pubs and hook you up with a gorgeous person of your dreams.” 

James turns away, knowing Sirius’ words are futile. Now that he’d had some time to think since the disaster of the morning, it was obvious why he felt so angry at seeing Sirius on a date. The person of his dreams wasn’t some stranger at a pub, but Sirius himself. He could imagine Regulus and Remus’ gloating faces when he told them. 

“That won’t help,” James says.  

“Maybe not, but as I always say, a good shag here and there can make life a lot better. Even Remy agrees with me now.”

James tries but fails not to think of Sirius in dim-lit alleys with handsome men on their knees. “Remy is a horny little werewolf who gets his back blown out by Reggie on the regular. Obviously now he thinks that’s the solution to everyone’s problems.”

Sirius stills. “Godric’s tits, James!” He summons a throw pillow from one of the sofas to hit James with. “I don’t want to think about what my baby brother does with his boyfriend—Merlin, gross, I need an Obliviate. Why the fuck would you mention that ?”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with them fucking when you’re asking them about it,” James teases. “You ask Regulus himself. Why is this worse?”

Sirius’ pale skin pinks immediately, which makes James’ stomach sink. “Because this is about Regulus and Remus,” he says, voice eerily steady. “When I ask, it’s just about Remus.”

“Oh,” James murmurs. “Oh, hell, I shouldn’t have brought that up. I know you said you’re over Moons, but—"

“Wait, no,” Sirius interrupts. He pushes himself onto his knees in front of James. “That’s not what I meant at all.” 

“Sure,” James says, standing up quickly. He doesn’t believe Sirius, of course, having caught him looking longingly at Remus one too many times whenever they hang out. There’s a tight feeling in his chest that’s not going away, this horrible jealous thing. He wants to hit Sirius and grab him and kiss him, and he wants to punch Remus too for good measure. He likes Remus, he loves him even, but fuck if it wouldn’t be nice if Sirius stopped wanting everyone but James for once. 

“He’s probably right,” James says after a while, Sirius still on the ground. The firelight dances off of Sirius’ handsome features, illuminating the slope of his nose and the downturn of his lips. 

“Obviously,” Sirius says after a beat, fixing him with a calculating look. He’s still blushing, but whether that’s from the heat or the memory of Remus, James isn’t sure. It makes James burn something fierce inside. 

“Sorry,” James says again, once he’s determined that it’s most likely because of Remus. “I know it must be hard, especially with your brother in the picture—”

“Fuck’s sake, Prongs, would you shut it about Moony,” Sirius says, smacking James’ thigh with the pillow again before grabbing his hands where they lay uselessly by his side. “I’m not into Remus anymore. That was years ago, and anyway, I’d never do that to Reg. Do you ever even listen to me?”

James shrugs, looking anywhere but at Sirius on his knees between his thighs in front of him. “You’re the one who still thought I was dating Lily.”

“I know you broke up, but I thought you’d be back together by now,” Sirius admits. “It’s just—you and Lily, I dunno, just work.  It always gave me hope, I think, to see how you two came to be friends. Like maybe I’ll also find someone I love who loves me that much someday.”

James wants to throttle him. Wants to yell at him that he already has someone who loves him, someone who knows him better than anyone else, someone who’s right there if only Sirius wanted him back. Instead, he blurts out, “What Lily and I have isn’t like you and me.” Realizing how that sounded, he quickly adds, “Or you and Remus.”

Sirius groans, letting his head fall onto James’ hip. James’ knees almost buckle at the warm breath on his legs. “You seem awfully insistent that I still fancy Remus when you’re the one who doesn’t like Evans anymore despite being so hung up about her for years. You could just, I dunno,  ask  me like a normal person.”

James jerks back, hating himself for the hurt expression flitting across Sirius’ face at the motion. Sirius blinks up at him for a moment, maintaining eye contact as he tilts his head curiously to study him. Then, seemingly after finding what he’s looking for, he leans forward to follow James’ motion. There’s a determined quirk at the corner of his mouth, but the tenseness in the set of his shoulders betrayed his nerves. 

“Wh—what do you mean?” James manages to ask, voice weak. Sirius rolls his eyes and smiles softly as he reaches out to curl a hand just above James’ knee.

“Jamie,” he says softly. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. You think too much, do you know?” His eyes are lit golden-bright, and James wants to kiss him. Then Sirius’ other hand finds the pillow he had hit James with before and places it under his knees. 

“What are you doing?” James breathes out. Sirius only shakes his head, pulling James closer and brushing his knuckles just above James’ waistband. He hitches up his shirt to expose a sliver of skin, then presses his lips just under James’ navel. 

“Fuck,” James gasps. He realises belatedly that his hands had come up to tangle in Sirius’ hair, gripping him in place. 

“You could’ve just asked me,” Sirius repeats, tongue slipping between his lips to wet them. James shudders. “Instead of using your cloak to spy on my date and be jealous and miserable all day.” His tongue darts out again, sliding hot and wet and perfect up the dark smattering of hair that leads down beneath James’ boxers.

“How—oh—how do you know?” James asks, mind a mess of scrambled thoughts as his world narrows down to Sirius and his slick tongue and clever fingers working his boxers down. He’s sure he’s hallucinating because the Sirius he knows likes men Remus and Louis, blokes who take up less space in a room, who are quieter and more thoughtful and don’t resort to petty things like sabotaging their best friend’s dates because they’re in love with said best friend. Sirius doesn’t like guys like him, who are selfish and hopeless and—

“Stop. Thinking.” Sirius emphasizes each word with a harsh swipe up his cock with his tongue. James whines, high-pitched and demanding, and Sirius smiles up at him. 

“You look so pretty like this, Prongs,” he whispers between sucks. James swallows. 

“Oh,” he gasps. “But you’re—oh, yes, fuck, you’re a natural at this—but you’re in love with—with Remus?” His words end up more of a question as Sirius tongues his slit, but Sirius gets the message and pulls away slightly, glowering. 

“For the love of Merlin and Morgana and all that is holy, would you shut up about Remus,” he tells him forcefully. James nods, unthinking, laser-focused on the line of spit between Sirius’ reddened lips and his dick. Sirius notices and his features soften, an indulgent smile on his face, and squeezes James’ fingers at his sides. 

“In case this doesn’t clarify things, James Fleamont Potter,” he says quietly. “James. Jamie. Prongs. My gorgeous, idiot best mate, my partner-in-crime. What the hell makes you think that there’s ever been anyone but you?”

James stiffens and pulls away. Sirius lets him take his time to gather his bearings. “Don’t joke about this, fuck, Si, if you’re joking—”

He shakes his head. “No. No, Prongs, this is it. I—I love you, okay?”

“For how long?” James rasps. His mind is whirling. 

“Does it matter?” At James’ insistent look, Sirius sighs and looks away. “Fourth year, I think, is when I knew for certain. But it started even before that.”

“You’ve loved me for this long?” James breathes. “Holy shit, Si.”

Sirius turns away, cheeks reddened. “Does it matter?”

James sits on the ground in front of him, taking his face into his hands. “Yes, it does, you bloody mutt. I thought you were in love with Remus this whole time.”

He shrugs. “That was just an excuse to hide that I was in love with you since I first knew loving blokes was a thing.”

“Damn,” James whispers. “Oh my god, Si, how did you manage? I only just realised how I feel about you today, and I already lost my composure, like, twenty times.”

Sirius laughs, and James feels something inside him settle into place. “Well, as a reward for my patience, can I continue what I started?” he asks, gesturing to James’ lap.

James smiles. “Sure,” he says. “As long as I get to return the favour. And first, I want to do this.” He takes his glasses off before turning Sirius’ face to his and tentatively pressing their lips together. He’s sure he’s never felt anything half as wonderful until Sirius wraps an arm around him and presses in close. And then he’s finally tasting Sirius, and can identify a hint of himself, and then his brain stops working. 

Sirius pulls away, after what could’ve been hours or minutes. James chases after him blindly, sparking a chuckle out of Sirius. “Prongs?”

“Yeah?”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.” When James looks up at him, he’s grinning cheekily. His eyes are sparkling and his cheeks are flushed, and James idly thinks, I made him look like this.  A surge of affection bubbles up in him, and he quickly places kisses all over Sirius’ face, prompting more laughter and kisses. 

“I love you,” he whispers into Sirius’ back, hours later when they’re both sated and sticky and riding the high of requited love. Sirius turns to face him, hair wild and face open. 

“I love you too, James,” he murmurs, and James feels giddy with the knowledge that Sirius was only in love with him, not Louis or Remus or all those other people he’d pulled in bars. That this was just for the two of them. James and Sirius, Sirius and James. As it always had been, and as it always should be.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Sirius was 16 when Regulus was born, and ran away when Regulus was only a couple of months old. He and James are happily married and have a son together, Harry (who was born 1980, like canon).

One day Sirius is visited by a Wizard Solicitor with a Will telling him that he’s inherited half of the Black fortune, and is now also has custody of his younger brother, who is a about 8 at this point.

Sirius assumed that his brother had been the perfect child for his parents, he expects a blood-purist spoiled brat — instead he’s got a child who’s abuse makes his own (which was already severe) seem like nothing.

Just Sirius feeling guilt for abandoning Regulus, feeling responsible for his abuse, and he and James trying to give him the best life possible — and Harry being adorable, and Regulus and him becoming the best brothers, which makes Sirius feel complicated feelings.

((A/N: Mentions of child abuse))

Anger and discomfort. That's what Sirius felt when his father pushed a week-old baby into his arms and said, "Hold him until your mother gets back."

The new baby, his new brother, sixteen years younger than him, Regulus, whimpers pathetically. He tries to rearrange his arms so the baby won't start screaming, but does he know anything about babies? He's never really been around one before. This is maybe the second time he's held one, and he would've been happier if it had stayed at one.

"Why can't you bloody hold him?" Sirius asks as Orion backs away. "He's your stupid son."

"As are you," Orion replies dryly, a familiar angry glint in his eye. "So do as I say and hold your sodding brother while I get a drink." He leaves, long strides taking him from the room far faster than Sirius can chase after him. He doesn't like the fact that he has a sibling now or that he's supposed to wait here until Walburga gets in-- whenever that's supposed to be-- but he doesn't want to bash the baby's head into the door, so he has to stop following their father and wait in the room as requested.

He sighs, gives the door an impotent kick, then gingerly makes his way to a chair. It's easier to hold a baby while sitting, right? He's heard that somewhere. Maybe, if he's lucky, Regulus will stay asleep. Or is he awake and just not crying? It's hard to tell which when his face is so scrunched up. Sirius isn't sure. As long as he's quiet though, he doesn't care.

He knows what a new sibling means. His parents didn't say it in as many words, but they didn't need to; he knows that he's a disappointment to them. He's said a hundred times (to James), that if they could replace him, they would. And now they have.

His parents don't like each other. They don't have sex for fun. They purposefully conceived Regulus so that, once Sirius is gone, they'll have a new heir. Sirius knows that he won't be here much longer. It's a toss up whether he runs or they throw him out. He thinks he's going to run; he'll be able to pack all of his things that way.

He glances down at the (thankfully) still quiet baby in his arms and hates him, just a little bit. Right now, he's fine. He's a baby. He doesn't have personality, he's trying to figure out going to sleep and eating when he's hungry. But when he grows up? Sirius turned out alright, in spite of their parents. Regulus probably won't turn out the same. Andromeda noted to him once, in the corner of one of their family gatherings, "It's fifty-fifty if one of us isn't utter shite. It's like, you and I turned out good, so Bellatrix and Narcissa have to be piss." Sirius laughed, knowing the truth in her words; Uncle Alphard, present but apart from the others like they were, was a clear sign. They could turn out good, but it wasn't a guarantee.

If Sirius is fine, then what does that mean for the future of this newborn baby? He'll grow up under Walburga and Orion's watchful eyes and the 'benefit' of hindsight that raising Sirius will have given them.

Sirius will grow to hate him. That stir of anger, to that future, to their parents, is still there. "Sorry, mate," he whispers. Angry or not, he pities him.

*

There's a knock on the door, and James answers. "Hullo. Erm, can I help you?"

"I'm a solicitor, my name is Joe Byrne." He holds a business card out. It's a deep green, almost black but its colour is visible from the sunlight shining on the doorstep. "I'm here to speak to Sirius Potter."

James takes the card and glances down at it. The sigil stamped to the background and the skate of magic underlining his information like an errant drop of water mean he's old money-- which means he's likely connected to the Black family. "I don't know what business you could have with him."

"I presume you're his husband, James Potter?"

"That's correct."

"Mr. Potter, are you aware that his mother recently passed?"

"Yes-" it was in The Prophet "-but she disowned him. I know children are usually in the will even if they're estranged, but this isn't a usual situation."

Mr. Byrne doesn't appear bothered by this. "The will has been read. What Walburga Black may or may not have done to disown your husband in a social manner wasn't reflected legally, so I need to speak with him."

James knows he's being overprotective by thinking anyone connected with the Black's-- even professionally-- is bad for Sirius. So he swallows it down, tucks the card in his pocket, and says, "Okay. Please, come in. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Please. Thank you."

James waves his wand to get things started in the kitchen and leads Mr. Byrne to an armchair. They're both quiet as he sits. Another wave of his wand brings the teapot out, the tray and cups trailing behind it. He can't remember if it's polite to pour for him or not; it's been so long since he tried to be proper, and that was occasionally, not all the time. Bloody hell, he shouldn't care about this, and he doesn't, really, but he's nervous. Sirius's parents are an old scar, but they are a scar. What's the point in putting pressure on that scar again? For a single galleon that his mother left, just to spite him? "Go ahead," he says, motioning to the tea service, "and I'll go get Sirius."

Mr. Byrne thanks him, so even if it was a mistake, it's a small one.

James isn't looking forward to this. To any part of this. He didn't even want to let the solicitor in, but now he has to tell Sirius that he's here, and he likes that less. He heads to the backyard, where they were soaking in the sun for a few hours while Harry's at the Longbottom's.

Sirius glances over when he walks out, then frowns. "You alright?"

"There's a solicitor here for you. From Walburga."

"I don't imagine we'd have anything to discuss."

"I said the same to him, but he claims you're in the will." James holds out a hand to him and tries to smile. "Best to get it over with."

Sirius sighs but agrees, taking his hand and joining him inside.

Mr. Byrne introduces himself to Sirius before opening his briefcase and removing a sizeable folder. "I apologize for coming to your home to discuss this, but my letters didn't receive any response and certain matters need to be taken care of quickly."

"We received quite a bit of post after her death," James says by way of apology. None of the letters were welcome; they'd burned the lot of it without sifting through to check senders.

"I understand," he replies, accepting. Then he looks to Sirius. "In summary, you are now the Head of the Black family. There's quite a bit of details to get through in relation to that, but we can schedule an appointment for that if you prefer. The most urgent matter is that of your younger brother, one Regulus Black. Since your mother's death, he's been staying with a member of S.U.B.S., but the hope is to transfer him into your custody as quickly as possible. There are a few forms I need your signature on, and then you'll be his legal guardians." Mr. Byrne is very efficient about the whole matter. As he's speaking, he retrieves a quill and inkwell from his briefcase. By the time he's done, the inkwell is unstoppered, and the corresponding forms are facing Sirius and James.

Two minutes ago, they had a three year old and struggled with that. Now they're being told they have to raise another kid, one who's older and they've never met.

Sod everything.

*

Sirius and James have a certain idea what Regulus will be like. Sirius was raised in that house, he knows what life was like before he went to Hogwarts, and Regulus is eight. He was snooty and cold and unused to anything like James and Sirius as they are now; Regulus will be the same, possibly worse.

The first glimpse they get of Regulus makes them rethink that assumption.

The first conversation they try to have with him crushes that assumption beneath a harsh hammer and grinds it up afterwards. At first, Regulus is too loud, too aggressive. Then, he's quiet, almost not daring to breathe, and he shrinks away like he expects pain. When none comes, he flees to the loo with a murmured excuse.

"That's not normal," Sirius whispers to James. They need to talk about it, but he doesn't want Regulus to overhear. And, given what just happened, he doesn't want to go too far from him.

"Definitely not," James whispers back. "D'you think they hurt him?"

"That's what it looked like, but it doesn't make any sense. They wanted to make him the perfect son to replace me." He shakes his head. "This doesn't follow."

"Maybe he's skittish from losing his parents and living with strangers," James says, but he doesn't sound like he believes it.

Sirius doesn't believe it either, but he says, "Yeah. Maybe."

*

"Are you going to lock me in the basement?" Regulus asks one day over lunch.

Sirius wishes Harry weren't here for this, and James wishes that there was a warning before someone asked something so horrible like that.

"There's no basement," Harry informs him. "Uncle Peter's house has a basement, but he says I can't go in." He's too young to understand the horrible implications in Regulus’s question. To him, it's a question on the same level as 'can I go in Dad's potion lab' or 'can we have dinner early today'.

James tries to smile. "Right. Like Harry said, no basement. I don't know why we'd do something like that to you anyways."

"The full moon is tomorrow night."

His stomach sinks, because that didn't sound like a different topic, and he doesn't want to ask, but he has to. Sirius braces himself and asks, "Why is that important?"

"They put me in the basement for my transformations."

He blinks. "Transformations?"

"When I become a wolf." Regulus said it as if this was information they already knew.

Sirius and James both force themselves not to react; there's no point in making him think it's a bad reaction. "Right. You don't have to do that anymore, we have something else worked out." They'll have to figure it out tonight. It'll be easy, since they can both transform and keep him company, but finding a suitable location will be a bit of a challenge-- and finding someone to mind Harry while they were both gone, helping Regulus, won't be easy because of the short notice. 

*

"I should've taken Regulus with me when I ran away from my parents," Sirius says, staring up at the ceiling and hating himself for something eight years past. From the corner of his eye, he can see James pause.

"You're not blaming yourself, are you?"

He says nothing.

James sighs, a quiet, sad thing, and pads over to the bed. He sits and places a hand on Sirius's shoulder. "We were sixteen. We couldn't have raised a kid."

"We would've figured it out," Sirius says stubbornly. He's convinced that it's true. They had Harry a little earlier than was wise, but they had each other, so they were able to get through it. It would've been the same with Regulus; they would've been scared and stressed with juggling everything, but they would've managed it.

James lays down. He throws one leg over Sirius's and curves his arm to smush between them so he can hold his hand. He should probably look up at the ceiling with him, but instead he stares at Sirius. His jaw is set, eyes tight, and he's glaring at the red paint like it's done him wrong. "I know you feel bad for him. I do too, but there's nothing we could have done-"

"We could've helped," Sirius cuts in, voice hard.

Mm. He isn't going to make this easy, is he? James keeps himself from sighing again, knowing it'll only make Sirius more defensive. "Okay. Humour me. You're sixteen, and you show up at my house with a baby in your arms. My parents let you and Regulus both live there. We-"

"I know that it wouldn't have been easy with Hogwarts, but-"

James is the one to cut him off this time. "I wasn't talking about Hogwarts, I was talking about Walburga and Orion. If you'd brought him with you, that would be kidnapping. Do you really think they'd let that slide? The law would've been on their side, and they would've wanted him back."

"They treated him like rubbish!" Sirius says, turning his head to glare at James instead of the ceiling. "He's a werewolf; they wouldn't have raised a finger."

"He wasn't a werewolf back then."

A retort is on the tip of his tongue, but he hesitates when that penetrates his fog of guilt and self-recrimination. James is right; Regulus wasn't a werewolf. He doesn't know when he was bitten, but it had to be after he left. "I still think I should've been able to do something," he eventually says, feeling helpless and hating it.

"You didn't know. And it doesn't seem like anyone else knows; they kept it locked down. All we can do is focus on how much better parents we're going to be to him," James says with a grin.

Sirius snickers. "Yeah. Doesn't sound like it'll be hard."

"We'll blow them out of the water."

*

Harry thinks it's fun to have Regulus around. Where James and Sirius are sometimes too busy to play with him exactly the way he wants, Regulus is always free-- and, importantly, always willing. Regulus and Harry both are enjoying the novelty of living with someone close to them in age. Hell, Regulus is enjoying playing. So much of it, he seems to be experiencing for the first time (like he's never had a playmate), but sometimes he does act the five years older than Harry that he is, knowing what Harry wants before he says a word.

It's pretty damn cute no matter which way he's acting. He talks more now, which is a marked improvement on when he first moved in. He doesn't fully trust Sirius and James yet, but they've got plenty of time to build off that, and he does trust them a little. He doesn't expect for them to berate him over nothing; he doesn't expect for them to lock him away on full moons or when he gets 'too annoying'. James gets frustrated with the slow pace sometimes, hating that Sirius has to remind him that baby steps are the only way they'll make progress. Raising Harry is, by comparison, easy. He's known them his whole life, never had reason to doubt that they'll be there for him or keep him safe. Dealing with raising both of them at the same time, with these differing viewpoints, isn't easy, but they're surviving.

Regulus and Harry wore themselves out playing. Sirius, as Padfoot, joined the fun, and he's feeling lethargic as they head inside. When he curls up to take a nap, Harry joins him automatically, pillowing his head on thick fur. When Regulus sees the way Sirius doesn't shake him off, he joins them, arm over Harry and head resting on Padfoot's gently moving chest.

James comes home, takes a photograph before any of them can wake, then tiptoes around the house, wanting them to have as much peace as they can. It's not an easy family, not one he ever thought they'd have, but it's good. Regulus fits in, taking on the role of Harry's brother, with Sirius more like a father.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Doting, Uncle Moneybags Regulus?

Sirius being annoyed at Regulus for spoiling Harry too much and rendering any discipline he and James attempt useless. Every time they try and say no to Harry he just rubs to Regulus who always gives in to his only nephew, every time they take a toy away as punishment Regulus buys a new one and sneaks it to him, etc.

Just some fluffy stuff about Asexual Regulus spoiling Harry because he’s the closest thing he has to a son, and he’s making up for Harry’s lack of grandparents and also making sure Harry doesn’t have the childhood he and Sirius had? Dunno, sorry it’s all a confusing mess of an ask :P

((A/N: This starts with angst but ends with fluff, fyi))

James grits his teeth when he sees Harry's candy-sticky face, but he pulls up a smile for his son when he runs up to him, because it's not his fault. Kids like candy. They'll eat so much of it that it makes them sick and not learn the lesson to eat less candy, they'll just think they randomly got sick that day and do it again in the morning. It's not Harry's fault; he's not going to be upset with him.

He will however have to talk to Sirius about this, because it's a weekly occurrence that isn't seeing an end.

James knows that he's short over dinner. He tries not to be, but the situation is infuriating.

Harry goes down to bed-- not easily, but he does-- and Sirius turns to James. "What's wrong?"

He takes a deep breath. "I know that you love your brother and it's not easy to talk to him about shit, but this is getting ridiculous. Actually, we've passed ridiculous and we're into the territory of me wanting to throttle him."

"What happened?"

"As far as I can tell? He gave Harry unfettered access to a bag of candy."

"Again?" Sirius groans.

"Again. You saw how little he ate at dinner, it sodding ruined his appetite, and he's going to wake up starving."

Sirius sighs, rubbing at his temples. "I'll talk to him."

"Do you want me to come?"

"No, he'll just get defensive." He sounds exhausted. He was in a good mood before this and was hoping for a little 'adult time' for him and James, but he isn't going to get that and also get through to Regulus. He gives James a quick kiss and then heads upstairs.

Regulus can't live alone but likes his space. Two stories feels a ridiculous indulgence to Sirius, but it's a good compromise to the living situation with the four of them. Harry, James, and Sirius all have their bedrooms downstairs, with Regulus's on the second floor. There's no further separation of rooms after that, but what the future will bring as Harry grows is anyone's guess. For now, it works, and that's good enough for them.

Regulus opted to not eat dinner with them tonight, so Sirius hasn't seen him since he left for work this morning. He knocks on his door and hopes that he answers it, because if he has to put this conversation off for tomorrow, he's going to be in a sour mood. Luckily, Regulus does call for him to enter, so that's one part easily taken care of.

"Oh, Sirius." He's sitting atop his duvet with a book in hand, and when he sees his brother, he sticks a bookmark in the open page.

"Hey. You got a minute?"

Regulus nods and sets his book to the side.

"I'm tired, so I can't really think of a better way to say this, but you've got to stop giving Harry so many fucking sweets."

Regulus blinks at him. "Why?"

"It's ruining his appetite, for one. He didn't eat all of his dinner. He's either going to wake up in the middle of the night because he's so hungry, or he's going to be starving when he gets up at his normal time."

"You don't know that for sure; you're guessing."

"I'm bloody not, actually. This isn't the first time it's happened, Regulus. It's happened so many times I can't fucking count them all, and I never said anything to you before because I didn't want you to make it into something it's not, but you've got to stop. Why do you do it, anyways? You're not an idiot; surely you know that a kid can't survive on candy alone."

"I thought he'd eat both," Regulus says, shrugging one shoulder. He looks a little troubled about the situation, which helps. "Can't I give him less? I don't feel right about him going without any at all."

"We're not starving him of all desserts," Sirius replies, rolling his eyes. He wants to be nice and understanding about this, but right now, he's just frustrated. "I don't know why your mind went there."

"It's what our parents did."

Sirius's mouth twists. "Do you think I'm like them? Really? Or James?"

"No." Regulus sighs, knees drawing up. "Our parents were so... conditional."

It's obvious he needs a second to think, so Sirius stays quiet. He feels a little bad about it, but he's not in the mood for a heart to heart. He's sure he'll be happy for this come morning, and even sad that he's not giving this due attention.

"I don't want Harry to feel anything like we did, you know? I remember wanting so much. And it's- I don't even mean like, wanting a new toy every week or wanting to go to a friend's and they wouldn't let me, but sometimes I look back and it feels like I never got anything I wanted."

"Yeah."

"Like I was always yearning for something and asking for it and never got anything. You know what I mean?"

"Yeah." Sirius has thought similar things, like he was always desperate for something that his parents withheld when they could've given it. It doesn't come up very often for him though. Now, he has James and Harry and Regulus as his family, so it's nothing like growing up was-- and Regulus as an adult is nothing like he was as a teenager or kid, so being around him doesn't feel the same as back then. He takes a deep breath and says, "I get it. Really, I do. When Harry asks for a biscuit right before dinner, I want to give it to him because I know he'll smile at me and be happy. But we're adults, Regulus. We know that you can't give a kid every single thing they want. The way our parents went about it was shit, but there has to be a happy medium in there, and that's what we're trying to do with Harry."

"Makes sense," Regulus says glumly, leaning his head into one hand. "I suppose I went a bit overboard with it anyways. You know, no grandparents, only me for an uncle, no aunts, no cousins and no chance for cousins, either. I'm the only extended family he has. I wanted to make up for it as much as I could."

"I don't mind you spoiling him. It's your duty as his uncle," Sirius says with a smirk, "but for now, no sweets. If you think you can learn to tone it down, maybe we can bring that back on Saturday's or summat. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Good." Sirius gives him a quick hug and bids him goodnight.

James is wary when he gets to their room, clearly not sure how well their conversation went.

"All sorted," Sirius tells him, following it with a lingering kiss.

James smiles but puts a pin in that for the moment because he needs to clarify 'all sorted' in this case. "He's going to stop giving Harry sweets?"

"Aye, he promised. I told him he can spoil him in other ways."

He bites back a groan at that. "Your brother has a tendency to go overboard. What're we going to do when the next thing gets out of control?"

"Talk to him, probably," Sirius says, a touch dryly. He's tired. He wanted to get laid tonight, but he's really not sure it's going to happen. He moves to change into sleep clothes.

James senses his change in mood immediately and follows after him, wrapping his arms around his waist from behind when he stops by their dresser. "Ignore me," he mutters, kissing Sirius's neck. "You're right, I know you're right." He kisses him again. "Thank you."

Sirius leans into him. "I don't need to be told I'm right about everything, you know."

"You do when you are," James counters.

He snickers. "Well, I do like how it sounds, so feel free to keep saying it."

*

"I think this can really work for us," James says later, after they've had a nice time in bed and Sirius told him exactly what him and Regulus talked about.

"How do you mean?"

"Regulus wants to be a little more involved-- make up for Harry only having one person as extended family. Why not ask him to babysit every now and then so we can have a date night?"

"Huh. There's an idea." They never considered asking him to babysit for them. Sirius had always assumed that Regulus wouldn't want to, but James has a point.

*

Regulus is happy to babysit for them "-but only once a month."

That's more often than Sirius or James thought to hope for, and they happily agree.

Harry owns more toys than any toddler rightly should after a few months of the new understanding, but so far, there's no real problems with him over it. There's wonder in Sirius's voice as he says this to James.

James laughs and replies, "I guess we'll see how long this will work in our favour."

"I think a while longer."

"Mm, for sure." He grabs Sirius and pulls him in for a kiss. They both love Harry more than anything, but ever since they reached this agreement with Regulus, they've had more time for each other. Less stress overall. It's wonderful.

*

Harry sniffles and looks up at Regulus. He doesn't say a word; he knows by now that he doesn't have to. Smart one, their son. He doesn't push when he knows he's won, and looking at Uncle Regulus with those big eyes of his is a win.

Regulus folds immediately and pats his nephew's head with a quiet-- so as to not be overheard by the parents-- promise to buy him a new toy to replace this one.

James and Sirius don't need to overhear the promise to know that it's happening, however. It's a commonplace exchange between uncle and nephew these days. Sirius thinks it's sweet; James agrees, but the novelty has worn off, leaving him to roll his eyes when he sees Harry with another addition to his army of stuffies-- really, if he took the care to count, he's sure there would be a battalion's worth.

"Should we start worrying yet?" Sirius asks James in an undertone as Regulus and Harry hug-- their son burying his face into his uncle's shoulder.

James glances over, then shakes his head. "I think we're still good."

"Good," he replies, sneaking a kiss.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Everyone welcome our newest member @starlitmusings! She wrote the latest fic we posted, check it out. She's new to prongsfoot, so be sure to make her feel welcome!

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Heyyy! here’s a prompt: James and Sirius are tired of constantly turning people down and watching their food for Amortentia or any variation of it so they decide to pretend to be gay and in love. Please make them get together for real in the end :)))

((Note: This fic was written by starlitmusings our newest author! It's ~9k, so you can read below, or on her AO3))

Early morning light filters through the thin curtains of the sixth-year boys’ dormitory, bathing the room with a soft golden hue. James, whose bed is closest to the window, stretches lazily and looks over to the sleeping boy curled next to him.

“Pads,” he whispers. There’s a stray lock of hair falling across his friend’s face, and James has the strange but familiar urge to tuck it in behind his ear and—

And what? Ruin the relationship you have with the most important person in your life?  James dispels the thought with the ease of someone who’s had to do it many times before. “Pads,” he says again, giving him a gentle push. “Wake up, we’ll be late. The others will hog the loo if we don’t get up first.”

Sirius stirs, feels the light on the exposed parts of his body, and promptly locks his legs around James. He blindly finds the crook of James’ neck and buries his face into it with a mumbled, “Don’t want to. ‘M comfy.”

James resists the urge to laugh and instead jams a finger into his shoulder. 

“Ow! Bloody hell, you fucking traitor,” Sirius yelps as he pulls away from James. He sits up slowly and stretches with a yawn, and James finds his gaze drawn to the way the light hits the hard, Quidditch-toned planes of Sirius’ bare chest and arms. 

“I can’t skive off of classes anymore, Sirius, you know that. Besides, you need time to get your hair care routine in or you’ll be a brat all day,” James replies once he wills his eyes to look anywhere but his half-naked friend. The friend that’s half-naked on his bed, his brain promptly supplies, and James mentally kicks himself for the thought.

“Stupid Dumbledore and his stupid decision to make you the stupid Head Boy,” Sirius grumbles. “And I don’t even have a bloody hair care routine, Jamie, you should know that the generational inbreeding took care of that.”

James laughs, trying not to show just how much he agrees with Sirius’ words and heads over to the bathroom with Sirius hot on his heels despite his muttered complaints. Not five minutes, later, Remus and Peter are barging in and kicking them out for taking too long, and James throws Sirius a smug I-told-you-so grin. Sirius rolls his eyes. 

As they’re pulling on their uniforms, Sirius approaches James with an uncharacteristic hesitation. “Prongs,” he begins. “We’re mates, right?”

James nods. “Obviously.” 

“I was thinking, we always share a bed, right?” 

“Right,” James says slowly, unsure of where this is heading.

“And are constantly with each other and want to be near each other, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“So I was thinking—” he’s cut off by the bathroom door slamming open and Remus coming out.

“Morning,” he greets them. “Have you seen my sweater? The one with—”

“In my trunk,” James interrupts. Remus pulls it out with a triumphant grin and pecks James on the cheek. “I need to leave a little early to talk to Minnie about my last essay,” he says as he rushes out the door. “See you at breakfast.” 

There’s silence for a minute before Peter rushes out similarly to Remus just had. Finally free of their dormmates, James turns to Sirius with a raised eyebrow. Go on.  

“Y’know how there’s a Hogsmeade weekend coming up?”

“Sure, so?”

“Well, I was thinking that I’d rather not be accosted by a bunch of people asking for a date when we’re not interested. So let’s pretend we’re dating.”

James blinks, stares, and blinks again. “Come again?”

Sirius sighs, his fingers fiddling with the hems of his sleeves. James thinks he sees the beginning of a light blush on his cheeks, but he also thinks Sirius just said he wants to date him so his mental facilities were clearly malfunctioning. Until Sirius repeats, more slowly this time, “Let’s pretend we’re dating.”

He had heard Sirius loud and clear the first time, but he still can't believe what he’s hearing. He’s not nearly awake or caffeinated enough to handle the love of his life asking him out. Never mind that Sirius wants it to be fake, whatever that means. 

“Um,” he starts. “Wait, what exactly do you—”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, Jamie,” Sirius says exasperatedly. “I want you to pretend to be my boyfriend to stop random people from confessing to me. Last week a bloke sent a dwarf to sing me a poem about how he’s going to drink a potion to spontaneously create himself a vagina so I can put babies in him. Like, what the fuck, no thank you.”

“You…didn’t tell me that,” James says, wide-eyed with a mixture of horror and awe. Before he can filter his words — though Merlin knows is his brain is capable of that now — he blurts out, “I’ll do it, obviously, but why me?”

“You know what everyone says, we’re basically a married couple already. Nobody else can make it convincing enough. You’re the best candidate.”

“And Remus can’t because…?”

“You know he’s got his eyes on Regulus.” Sirius scrunches his nose and makes a disgusted sound. “Which is, like, wrong on so many levels I wouldn’t even know where to begin."

James lets out a stangled laugh. “Okay, I get it. But why me, and you know, not someone you actually want to ask out?”

“If I wanted to ask someone out, I wouldn’t be having this problem, now would I?” Sirius retorts. “Besides, you were complaining after Potions the other day about how you caught some girls sneaking Amortentia to slip into our drinks. I was thinking, this way we both benefit and it’s not as awkward as it would be with a stranger.”

This was starting to sound like a horrible idea, but James knew he was going to go through with it regardless as soon as Sirius made his offer. “We’ll need a cover story if we want to get anyone to believe us.”

Sirius nods, pulling James behind him and they make their way down to the Great Hall. “That’s easy since most people think we’re dating already. Let’s just say that we fancied each other for years. It all came to a head this summer when I moved in with you. We’ve actually been dating since summer but we’re only making it official now.”

James hums as he thinks it over. “And Moony and Pete don’t know about this?”

Sirius waves his hand in a careless gesture. “Eh. We’ll tell them the real reason later.” He eyes James carefully, then laces their fingers together. “The rumours will start faster this way,” he says by way of explanation, and James prays on all the gods he doesn’t believe in that Sirius doesn’t notice his racing heartbeat. 

As predicted, whispers and curious glances towards the pair begin as soon as they enter the Great Hall. Sirius turns to James with a gleeful grin and pulls on his hand to press a kiss on his knuckles. There are some squeals and James thinks he sees a third-year pass out, and he’d be lying if he weren’t close to doing the same. 

“What the fuck, you guys,” Remus hisses to them as they sit down. “We were gone for less than ten minutes!”

“We’ll have you know, our darling, precious Moonbeam,” says Sirius, “that James and I are very efficient. Would’ve been a shame if it took longer than that to declare our undying love to each other.”

Remus scoffs. “Would’ve been normal, you mean, considering that your love is neither undying nor existent.”

“How dare you. We are disgustingly in love, I’ll have you know,” Sirius counters, and wraps an arm around James pointedly. James flushes and turns away from Remus’ knowing gaze.

This was going to be a long week.

It doesn’t take long before everyone in Hogwarts is aware of the relationship status of the school’s two most desired students. Most of the upper years congratulate them as they collect their bet winnings and comment on how good they look together, and one fifth-year shyly tells them that their bravery to come out helped them come out to their friends too. 

In hindsight, James realizes that coming out wasn’t even a factor in his decision to fake a relationship. It’s never been a secret that he was bisexual, but it makes sense that a lot of people are surprised since he never publicly announced it. He expects to feel somewhat uneasy, but it’s surprisingly easy to fall into a pattern with his best friend. Sirius was right in that there are hardly any differences in their relationship now that they’re dating — apart from random pecks and hand-holding, which never fail to make James’ stomach explode with butterflies. 

Later that week, when all the sixth-year Gryffindors are lounging on the sofas nearest to the fire, Lily looks at them cheekily. “You boys are remembering to use protection, right?” she asks with a grin. James sputters and throws a pillow at her. Sirius just laughs and reassures her that, yes, darling, of course we are.

James wishes what Sirius said was true. He mostly wishes that he wasn’t in love with his best friend and that he had never agreed to this stupid plan. While he had always pined from afar before, it was much harder to hide his feelings when the object of his desires was now so close.  

“This is the place?” Regulus asks doubtfully, eyeing two little girls in pigtails eating a cloud of pink fluff near the entryway. “The Muggle — uh, park for amusement?”

Remus bounces in excitement, eyes lit up. “Yes! I’m so glad you all agreed to come. This place has been one of my favourite places since I was young.” 

Regulus’ eyes soften as he reaches over to fix his boyfriend’s scarf. “Then I’m glad you brought me here.”

Sirius mimes gagging as the new couple rolls their eyes. James grins and nudges Sirius. 

“ You’re the one who agreed to have a double date instead of eating through our Honeydukes stash together,” he reminds him. 

Sirius huffs. “You can’t expect to resist Reg when he does those eyes on me! And Remus joining in? I was doomed from the start.”

“Says the one who’s actually a dog,” Regulus deadpans. “You of all people should be immune to puppy eyes.”

“I think becoming an Animagus made me less immune, actually,” Sirius muses. “It’s probably to prepare if I ever become a puppy dad.”

Regulus blanches while James and Remus crack up. “I wouldn’t be surprised,” Remus says, laughing. “Remember that lady at the park near Lils’ place with the poodle?”

James bends over with laughter while Sirius shoves them both. “I hate you two! You promised you wouldn’t!”

“Wait, no, I need to know this,” Regulus is grinning evilly, the look worthy of a Black. “Tell me more?”

Remus takes his hand. “With pleasure.”

Sirius puts his nose in the air and huffs again. “That’s my cue to take my leave. James, come with?”

“You look like Mum like that,” Regulus tells him. When Sirius glares at him, he laughs. “That makes the resemblance even better.” Sirius rolls his eyes and turns to James.

“Yeah, okay, but it’s your fault if we get lost,” James replies. He takes a map and bids the other two goodbye, promising to meet them near the food court at lunch. 

“I won’t get lost. I have you, remember?” Sirius says. James raises an eyebrow.

“That would be romantic, but I’m hardly any better than you at navigating this place.”

“At least we’ll have fun?”

“Why are you saying that like a question?”

“My most sincerest apologies. We’ll most definitely have fun!”

“Better.”

“Idiot.”

“Hey, at least I’m your idiot now.”  

Sirius looks over at him with an unreadable expression. “This is fake, Prongs.”

James feels his throat tighten. “Yeah, I know,” he says and tries to ignore the unpleasant clench of his stomach. He thinks he’s successful, but Sirius’ keen gaze seems to read right through the act.

The music playing on a loop as they pass the Tunnel O’ Love overlaps chaotically with excited yells and sounds of carnival games, and sweet, fatty smells mingle with the pine in the air. Sirius leads James along a curling path to a blue-and-gold ticket booth near the entrance, proudly pulling out a stack of Muggle money Remus had given him. 

“I’ll get us two tickets, while you can figure out where you want to go first,” he tells James and hands over a map from the ticket booth. James eyes his arse appreciatively while he flirts with the ticket woman, but quickly averts his gaze when she looks at him knowingly.

James stares at the colourful piece of paper, trying to figure out how to read it. “Does the — uh, does the House of Mirrors sound okay?”

“What, you want to get lost for real? Relying on me, who’s never spoken to a Muggle in my life, to navigate a Muggle wonderland isn’t doing enough for you?”

James shoves him and has to resist a grin when Sirius barks out his laughter. “I’m joking! That sounds fine,” Sirius says, now holding two tickets and a business card with a hastily scrawled number on it. “I’d love to start the day staring at myself from all angles. And you, of course. You’re pretty easy on the eyes.”

“Aww, did my darling Padfoot just say I’m good-looking?” James teases. Sirius rolls his eyes but he can’t hide the smile on his face. 

“Stop fishing for compliments. You know you are."

James’ face flushes. He doesn’t respond while he buys them both churros, some Muggle sweet that tastes like heaven. It’s sweet on his tongue and it helps to distract him a little from the cooler October winds and the sight Sirius makes. He tries not to notice how Sirius moves closer to him for warmth when a large gust hits them, but he can’t ignore the warmth that fills him when he does.

“Is this it?” Sirius asks after a long but comfortable silence. He eyes the pink archway over the entrance of the House of Mirrors distrustfully. 

James nods, face illuminated by the neon lights crisscrossing over the room. “You want to see who can make it out first?”

“Oh, you’re on.” Sirius doesn’t wait a second before taking off to the right. James laughs and takes a left. 

The sound of people hustling through the maze fades as James takes a few steps in. He meets an expected pane of glass and turns right into a new room framed with arches of light. Starting to become more purposeful with his turns, and trying to recall the map of the maze from the entrance, he changes directions but is met with glass. He tries again, with no success.

He’s trying to stay calm, but eventually, the fact that he’s lost and alone and stuck in a glass maze in a Muggle park with no Sirius around starts to become unnerving. His pulse quickens, and he tells himself to keep moving. 

Another glass wall. Keep moving. 

He spins left. Keep moving. 

He’s about to turn right — keep moving — but he slams into someone as he rounds the corner. “Shit,” they gasp, clutching their neck. “Are you okay?”

James nods. He’s feeling a bit dazed so it takes him a moment to realize. “Wait, Sirius? Oh bloody fuck, did I bite you?”

The other person — Sirius — sputters out a laugh. “James? Yeah, you did. It’s okay, it doesn’t hurt.”

“Sirius. I have blood on my teeth, and I don’t think it’s mine.”

Sirius winces. “Yeah, well, I’ve dealt with worse than a bitten collarbone.”

“If it helps, I don’t have rabies.”

“Why would that help? And also, you might have rabies as Prongs.”

A pensive look crosses James’ face. “Wait, you think? Oh shit, let me take a look.”

Sirius stills, then shrugs James’ hand off his shoulder. “I said I’m fine.”

“And I said, let me see.” Without waiting for Sirius’ response, James steps closer to inspect the teeth marks. This close, he can smell Sirius’ peppermint toothpaste and their shared shampoo and something warm and a little earthy, and he can see how the glow of Sirius’ skin under the fluorescent lighting gives him an almost alien-like look. James swallows and wills his blood back up. His best friend’s bleeding, and he’s getting a hard-on. What the fuck?

He distracts himself with healing the small cuts. “There. Good as new,” he says and steps back quickly, only for Sirius to grab his wrist. His grey eyes are dark, reflecting the pink and blue lights overhead. 

“Prongs,” he murmurs. “If you want to—” 

“Yeah,” James breathes out, voice ragged and low. “Anything you want.”

Sirius lets his hand trail up James’ arm, pushing up the sleeve of his sweatshirt and leaving goosebumps in his wake. There’s a split second of hesitation before he’s leaning in, and then James can’t think of anything other than Sirius, his best friend and better half, who smells edible and tastes like the churros they were having earlier and who’s doing something with his tongue that has James gasping and pushing Sirus back against the glass. There’s a crash nearby and some people laughing and they’re springing apart, eyes wide and dark. 

“Why haven’t we been doing this forever?” Sirius breathes. “Fuck, Prongs. That was…”

“Yeah,” James agrees, but he’s unsure what he’s agreeing to. “Wait, what?”

“We should’ve been doing this all along,” Sirius repeats. “I mean, we are dating.”

“Fake,” James automatically says. He thinks he sees disappointment flash across Sirius’ features, but puts it to a trick of the light. 

“Right. Let’s get out of here, yeah? The others will be wondering where we are.”

“Okay,” James says quietly. He’s feeling somewhat off-centre from the kiss and the conversation afterwards, so he leans against Sirius and smiles when he lets him take his hand. 

They seem to walk for hours, and James could swear they went past the same benches a few times, but it feels much easier with Sirius by his side. As soon as the thought forms, as though he can read his mind, Sirius turns to James and gives him a breathtaking smile. “I like it better when you’re with me,” he says softly. 

James stills, heart racing. Between the kiss and now this, he’s feeling rather shaky. “Me too,” he replies quickly, then notices the intensity of the noise here. There’s a barely visible gap between two mirrors facing out, and James grins. 

“Guess what?”

“What?”

“I win,” James says with a laugh, slipping between the glass panes and out into the open air. Sirius comes following, hot on his heels, and whirls to face James. 

“That’s not fair! We were having a moment and I was distracted!”

“Nobody told you to get all sappy on me,” James retorts. “As the winner, I choose the next place we go to.”

“You chose this place too,” Sirius grumbles, but begrudgingly gives James the win. 

“I want to go there.” James points to a large open canopy, under which there seem to be millions of children. “Please?”

“I’m not playing against babies, ” Sirius says. “There’s no way.”

“Your loss. Watch me then, you sore loser.” James grins when Sirius flips him the bird.

“Wait, no, look! Isn’t that Remus?”

James looks around and brightens when he sees him. “Yes! Oh wow, I’m actually hungry. Race you!”

Sirius shakes his head in disbelief then runs off to catch up. 

After lunch, when their stomachs are full of burgers and what Remus calls funnel cakes, James insists on playing until he wins a huge dog plush. He spends the Muggle equivalent of 20 galleons and is about to try again when Remus grabs him by the arm to drag him away. He’s whining and struggling against him when Regulus comes over. 

“Reggie! Tell your boyfriend to let me go!”

Regulus turns to Sirius. “Is this about that toy?”

“I need to win that for Sirius! Think of my dignity, I can’t let toddlers win games that I can’t!”

Sirius pulls James against him. “I don’t need a mediocre representation of my beautiful Animagus form, love. It’s fine if they win.”

“No,” James gasps. “Not you too!”

“It’s not your fault you’re bad at kid games,” Regulus teases. 

“Oi, these machines are rigged against us magical folk anyways,” Sirius consoles, ruffling James’ hair. The three of them have to physically drag his thrashing body away a minute later when a kid no older than four comes up to the machine right after them and manages to win the plush in one go.

“Wha—how in the world—can I steal it from him?”

Remus raises an eyebrow. “You’re not stealing a toy from a four-year-old, James, what happened to your morals?”

“I lost it with my dignity!”

Regulus laughs. “Close your mouth, James, flies are gonna go in.”

“But—But my Padfoot plushie—”

“How dare you insinuate that that crappy fabric monstrosity is me. ”

James sniffles. “It was beautiful. It would’ve kept me so warm at night.”

“What am I for?”

“Your feet are too cold,” James says miserably. “I wanted that!”

Sirius purses his lips. “For that, I’m not sleeping with you tonight.”

James blinks. “You don’t mean that. I can’t get my plushie, and now I won’t get Siri snuggles?”

Regulus and Remus crack up, and Sirius shakes his head with an amused huff. James pouts the entire way home.

“Uh, Sirius? What are you doing?” James asks, surprised to see Sirius waiting for him outside detention. “You’re supposed to be at dinner.”

“I was waiting for you to finish,” Sirius says, smoothing down nonexistent dust from the dark Muggle jeans he’s wearing. “Come on, we’re going out.”

“What?”

“I’m treating you to dinner. Being a proper boyfriend and all that.”

James blinks. “We’re not proper boyfriends.”

Sirius glances up. “Do you want to be?”

What. James has no idea how to respond to that so he busies himself with transfiguring his robes to something more casual. He lets himself get dragged to the Three Broomsticks where they have shepherd’s pie, drink too much Butterbeer, and call it dinner. Between the good food and good company, James can’t bring himself to complain, even though Sirius is acting a lot weirder than usual.

“I was thinking,” Sirius begins. The two of them are curled around each other on a sofa in front of the fire, watching Remus and Regulus play Exploding Snap. It’s a Friday night, and they’re pushing off their homework to Sunday.

“Oh no,” James groans theatrically. “Last time you said that, we had to start dating!”

Sirius shoves him. “Oh, fuck off.” Then, noticing others looking their way with confused glances, Sirius raises his voice. “Yes, and how good did the idea come out to be?”

James catches his drift. “Yeah, it was one of your better ideas for sure.” He leans down to kiss him without thinking and freezes when he realizes what he just did. They’re both still for a second before Sirius flips them over and snogs him so thoroughly that James thinks he probably won’t get the taste of him out for a week.

Regulus throws a cushion at them. “Get a room, you insufferable wankers.”

Sirius flips him off. “Remember that when you’re sucking Moony’s face off, you tosser.”

Remus winces. “Why are you so crude?”

Sirius ignores him, turning back to James. “So I was thinking, we should go see your parents this weekend.”

“Like right now?” James asks, bewildered. 

“Our relationship has been the talk of the school for a few weeks now. I think they’d appreciate hearing it from us before they get it from someone else.”

James sits up quickly, nearly knocking Sirius over. “Fuck, I did not think this would go so far.”

“Why, are you ashamed of me?”

“No! I just don’t want to, you know, lie to my parents about dating my best friend. Who’s basically their son? Is that incest?”

“It doesn’t have to be a lie,” Sirius says quietly. “And ew, what the hell, Prongs, why would this be incest!” 

James stares at him. “Why do you keep saying that when you’re the one who came up with the whole fake part of this?”

Sirius looks away. “Never mind. Do you want to go now? Because Minnie’s probably still awake. We could use her Floo.”

James stares for a moment longer. “Um, okay.”

He heads toward the portrait hole, missing the worried look Remus and Regulus shoot toward Sirius. 

“James! Sirius! What a surprise, I missed you both so much!” Euphemia says happily as she grabs them in a tight hug. “You’ve already grown so much and it’s only been a few months!”

James smiles as he leans down to kiss her head, tension leaving his shoulders at her embrace. “We missed you too, Mum. Where’s Dad?”

“In the office, I presume. Oh, come here, you,” she pulls Sirius over to kiss his cheeks. Sirius smiles, cheeks turning pink, and squeezes her back just as hard.

“What’s this?” Fleamont asks as he walks over. “Well, would you look at that, my sons finally remembered they have parents!”

James watches as Sirius stiffens with a flush before relaxing with a brilliant smile. “I’m sorry I haven’t been keeping in touch as much as I want to. We’re so busy with school.”

Fleamont laughs. “I’m just messing with you.” He grabs James into a headlock, which James resists for half a minute before giving up. Pressing a kiss on his son’s forehead, he turns to Sirius and greets him the same way.

“I can’t say I’m unhappy with this surprise, but why so sudden? I wasn’t expecting either of you two.” Euphemia pulls them over to the living room and calls their house-elf to prepare something for them to eat, despite their insistence of having already eaten dinner.

There’s a few minutes of tense silence. “Well, it’s just that—” James tries to begin, but gets interrupted by the house-elf returning with tea and biscuits.

“We’re dating,” Sirius blurts out. He’s watching Euphemia and Fleamont with a steady glance, face betraying nothing. James stares at him, wishing he could vanish into thin air. He’s gotten used to introducing themselves as boyfriends to the people at school, so it shouldn’t sound so foreign, but in front of his parents, he feels stripped bare. 

Fleamont sets down his teacup and Euphemia pauses. James watches tentatively as their expressions morph into one of surprise before shifting to joy. Fleamont’s smile twitches and Euphemia’s eyes glitter merrily. 

“I can’t say we didn’t expect this,” Euphemia says, tea all but forgotten as she leans forward to take their hands in hers. “When did this start?”

“Over the summer, but we didn’t know how to tell you,” Sirius replies once he realizes that James has lost all ability to function. “We made it official a little bit into the school year.”

Fleamont grins. “No wonder you were so eager to get away this year.”

Sirius laughs. James wants to die. “I can’t help it. I just want James all to myself, even when he’s right next to me.”

Euphemia coos. “I can’t believe Sirius is the first boyfriend you brought home for us to meet, James. You’re getting all grown up, aren’t you?” she says, pinching his cheeks and James pulls away in embarrassment. 

There’s a part of him that wants to confess and tell them that they’re not actually a couple and it was just a silly mistake, but he can’t bring himself to. Not when they’re both looking at them so excited about their relationship. He knows it will hurt them more if — when — they inevitably call this off, but for now, he selfishly doesn’t want to ruin the moment.

James thinks he should feel more guilty about lying to his friends and family about being in a relationship. But strangely, he doesn’t.

Maybe it’s because no matter how much he tries to deny it, the truth isn’t too far off from the lies that he’s telling them.

Later, he comes into the kitchen to help his mum put away the tea. She leans against him when he hugs her from behind and rests her hands on his. They’re wrinkled and rough from age and labour, but they’re just as familiar as James remembered.

Euphemia lets out a deep breath. “I worry for you two sometimes.” 

James frowns. “Why? We’re doing fine, both Sirius and I.”

She closes her eyes and James feels his throat pinch. She looks so fragile in his arms. “Both of you always put each other before yourselves,” she says. “Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness. I worry that there will be a time where you both think you’re doing what will benefit the other, but will only cause a divide between you two.”

James hums into her hair. “You don’t need to worry about that, Mum. Sirius and I share a brain cell, remember? Nothing can divide us.” 

She laughs and he leans down to kiss her quickly when he hears her whisper, “Jamie, I’m going to tell him this too because you’re both my boys. I love you both to pieces, but if he dares to hurt you, dump him. You deserve only the best.”

He can’t help but laugh, but he feels hollow. Who could be better than Sirius? And why would they want me when my best friend doesn’t?

On Monday morning, James is called into Dumbledore’s office for a Head meeting. As he walks alongside Lily, she gently nudges him to face her.

“I’m so happy for you, James,” she tells him seriously. “Am I a little miffed that you got with Sirius right when we started getting along? A little. But you two are so perfect for each other, it’s hard to be anything but happy for you.”

James tilts his head in confusion. “What do you mean? We’ve always been close, so this is hardly any different from what we were like before.”

She smiles and shakes her head. “Yes, but since you two started dating, both of you seem, I don’t know, lighter.”

“We’ve always been happy together. Even as friends.” James fights the urge to say that they’re still just friends.

“Mhm, sure, but you were less attached.” At James’ disbelieving laugh, she amends, “Like, you two would be together, but both of you obviously wanted more. And now you have that, so you two look less lonely.”

James says nothing. She nudges him again and makes a face, and they both start giggling. It would’ve been so easy to be in love with Lily, James thinks, as he watches her dimples come out as she laughs. Her red hair falls in waves behind her, and James wishes he still wanted to wrap his hands in it as he once did. 

“What if… what if I told you that we’re not in a real relationship?” he asks quietly. As soon as it’s out, he wishes he could take it back.

Lily’s eyes narrow. “I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“We did this so people wouldn’t make a big deal of asking us out to Hogmeade,” James says in a rush. “We’re just pretending to be dating. We’re not anything more than best mates.”

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Are you just pretending to like him?”

James squirms. He feels exposed under Lily’s sharp gaze. “Yes.”

“Really.” Lily’s tone is flat and gives no indication as to what she thinks, but James hears her disbelief loud and clear. He’s just grateful that she masked her surprise well.

“Okay, so maybe I like him a tiny bit more than I let on,” James admits. 

Lily nods. ��So obviously, I’m right. So? When are you telling him?”

James makes an indignant squawk. “Why would I risk ruining our friendship like that?”

Lily purses her lips. “How are you so sure that your friendship with him will be ruined? Last I checked, you could kill his entire family and he’d still worship the ground you walk on.”

“He hates his family, save for Regulus. And I’d never kill Regulus so that’s hardly saying anything.”

Lily makes a frustrated noise. “James. Even before this fake dating ruse, neither of you can fall asleep unless you’re cuddling each other. You’re constantly talking to him or about him. If either of you are ever separated, you have a mirror to talk through for the few minutes that you’re not joined at the hip. How much more oblivious can any two people get?”

James huffs. “That’s only because Sirius is comfy and interesting and brilliant and funny and gorgeous and understands me more than anyone else.”

When Lily says nothing, he looks over and sees her staring at him in a McGonagall-esque manner. “Okay,” he concedes. “So maybe I fancy him a lot, and maybe he likes me back. Emphasis on the maybe. If I confess, and he doesn’t feel the same, what then?”

“Then blame it on me. To save you from your misery, I’ll marry you and we’ll have seven babies and start our own Quidditch team,” Lily says, deadpan. James laughs and puts his arm around her.

“Sounds like a plan,” he tells her happily. “I’ll be the best, most doting husband and father ever.”

She smiles indulgently and hugs him back.

Winter holidays come around quickly. Regulus had come by during the day with Remus but they’ve long since gone. To pass the time, James and Sirius nick some Firewhisky stashed in Fleamont’s study and are passing the bottle between them when James decides to ruin his night. 

“Why did you choose to fake a relationship with me when you could’ve gotten into a real one with someone you fancy?” he blurts out. His brain-mouth filter is fuzzy after having too much to drink. 

“I like spending time with you,” Sirius replies matter-of-factly, as though nothing could be more obvious. “Why hang out with some stupid stranger when I could be with you?”

“Not what I meant.” Sirius looks so pretty, James thinks, staring at the pink flush starting to spread across his cheeks as he drinks more alcohol. They were sitting cross-legged on the floor of James’ bedroom when they first took out the bottle, but now they’ve manoeuvred so that their legs are intertwined and they’re heavily leaning on each other.

James can see the flutter of Sirius’ dark eyelashes whenever he turns to face him. Moonlight illuminates his face from the gap between the curtains, turning his eyes silver. His bottom lip is redder than the top from biting down on it. It’s soft and plump and seems to be beckoning James near. 

A siren’s call. That’s what Sirius was — a siren. Tantalizing, perfect, untouchable. Dangerous to get too close to.

“I’m tired of people wanting to have a part of me without taking the time and effort to understand me. They don’t even know me — I mean, they think they do, but all they see is the popular Hogwarts heartthrob, the rule-breaker and prankster. The black sheep of the Black family.” Sirius’ eyes are glassy from the whiskey, but his gaze seems sad and far away for an entirely different reason.

“That’s not true. I see you,” James says, watching Sirius blink up at him. It feels awfully domestic to be sitting here, away from everyone in just their ugly comfort clothes and baggy sweats. Sirius has a flower clip stuck to his hair that’s nearly slipping off of his bangs and all of his earrings have been put away for the night. They’re just them, and James wants to take a picture to capture it forever.

“But that’s ‘cause you’re you, Jamie. I couldn’t keep a part of myself away from you even if I tried.”

“Not the part of yourself that’s saved for your future special person.”

“You’re my special person, Jamie. There’s no one else.” Sirius waves a hand in front of James’ face and James intertwines their hands together instinctively, mindlessly rubbing circles into the back of Sirius’ hands with his thumb. He drops his bottle to trace over his knuckles with his other hand and presses a kiss onto each raised bone. Sirius’ breath hitches.

“You don’t want me like that, Pads.” James has no idea why he says that. He wants to remain in this ignorant bubble they created in his room for a little longer before Sirius inevitably rejects him. There’s a strange tension filling the air and James feels like he’s drowning. The only anchor he has is the weight of Sirius’ hand in his, but that’s not enough, not when Sirius doesn’t feel the same way, not when James wants more than what Sirius can give, not when James is so fucking greedy he’ll take everything Sirius offers and still beg for more. 

He doesn’t realize that they’re both holding their breaths. All of his attention is focused on the warm, reassuring weight of Sirius’ hand in his, the fingers long and thin and callused from Quidditch. James’ hands are slightly larger and wrap around Sirius’ like two puzzle pieces fit together, just like the two of them. Golden brown on paler white, a work of art.

Like a moth to a flame, James scoots over to Sirius. The small rational part of his mind screams at him to pull away before he hurts himself and Sirius and their beautiful, wonderful relationship. It may be the Firewhiskey or it may be the months of pining, but all rationale flies out the window when Sirius beams at him, wide and unburdened and brighter than his namesake, so fucking perfect it hurts.

“You’re wrong, Prongs,” Sirius whispers. Their faces are inches away from each other. James can’t help but trace lines down the side of his jaw, feeling the 5 o'clock shadow there.  “You’re so wrong, bloody hell, I don’t know what I’d even do without you. Burn the world down to get you back, probably, or become the next Dark Lord. I’d do it all, for you.” 

James stills. He can feel Sirius’ breath fan across his face and can almost hear his racing heartbeat. Or maybe that’s his own. His head is spinning, and everything is starting to feel too real. He needs space, needs to get away before he does something he’ll regret.

He pulls away from Sirius, dropping his hand and pushing to his feet. He swallows down the lump in his throat and tries to ignore the way Sirius flinches, a look of hurt marring his face. James is about to reach again, apology at the tip of his tongue, but he reminds himself that it’s for their own good. 

Sirius is drunk, after all, and it won’t mean anything come morning. It hasn’t meant anything so far, and if he makes one mistake, everything they take for granted could come crashing down. Best to stop it before it’s too late.

“It’s getting late,” James forces out. It takes almost all of his effort to plaster an unaffected smile on his face. His hands clench at his sides, longing for Sirius’ warmth. “We should go to bed.”

He stumbles into the loo to wash his face, knees shaking so much that he knocks into the edge of his bed. He refuses to turn around, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from giving in upon seeing the expression on Sirius’ face. He promised himself years ago that he would never be the cause of Sirius’ misery, and doing this to both of them makes him feel like the biggest arse in the world.

When he returns, Sirius is on their bed, curled into himself on the very edge. James wants to reach out to hold him close and whisper sweet nothings into his ear to take away his discomfort, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He falls into a restless sleep, wishing for the millionth time that he was a better man. Maybe then he wouldn’t make so many mistakes.

Before long, classes start again. Amidst piling assignments, Quidditch practice, Head duties, and career planning meetings with McGonagall, James barely has time to spend time alone with Sirius. Since that drunken night at home, Sirius has stopped squeezing into his bed every night, leaving James alone with the dark, a strangely cold bed, and racing thoughts.  James doesn’t know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse. If anything, the distance only makes him think about Sirius more. 

If James had any self-control, he’d stop himself from remembering how Sirius had looked that night. But the past few months of stolen kisses and lingering touches had crumbled any control James had over his thoughts, and he often found himself imagining how Sirius’ flushing skin and loose tongue. The slope of his neck as he leaned against him. The cold, gentle slide of his fingers across James’ bare thighs. The painful avoidance in the following days, the awkward silences and betrayed glances. 

It’s that last memory that forces James to face his reality and bury his overwhelming feelings in the recesses of his mind. He knows he wears his heart on his sleeve, that he laughs effortlessly, cries easily, and cares fiercely. But another part of him knows that to keep Sirius from being scared away by the intensity of his love, he must hide those parts of himself. And so he keeps a distance and ignores Sirius’ flinches and sad eyes. 

He’s doing loops over the Quidditch field the afternoon of his birthday, trying to calm his emotions. He’d been ecstatic when he woke up to a surprise birthday breakfast in the common room with students from all houses and his parents calling over the Floo, but that excitement had been damped when he realized Sirius wasn’t there. It wasn’t uncommon lately for Sirius to slip away in the mornings before James woke up, but he’d been hoping to settle the tension between them to enjoy his birthday with his favourite person.

He looks down when a Hufflepuff third-year calls his name from the sidelines. She’s holding a large gift bag and waving to get his attention.

“Sirius told me to give this to you,” the younger girl says while handing him the bag. “I don’t know why he couldn’t just give it to you himself when he saw you this morning. Something about not being able to give it to you because he has some modelling gig. Since when does Sirius model?”

“He doesn’t,” James replies, bewildered. “Why did he say that?”

The girl shrugs. “Don’t ask me. You’re the only one who can make sense of the stuff he says.” With that, she goes back to the castle, leaving James alone.

Inside the bag is a box of Honeydukes’ chocolates — an assortment of hibiscus raspberry and cardamom orange, which meant Sirius had taken the time to custom-order James’ favourite seasonal flavours. James feels a pleasant warmth pooling in his gut, touched at Sirius’ thoughtfulness despite the past few weeks of strained friendship. 

There’s another larger box with a red ribbon wrapped around it. James gasps when he sees what’s in it, before laughing in disbelief. 

It’s a large, black dog plushie wearing a leather jacket and holding a wand. 

There’s a note attached to the ribbon and James instantly recognizes Sirius’ neat, small handwriting. It reads,

Happy birthday Jamie! You may be of age now but know that I am still older and that if you don’t continue to treat me as a respected elder, I will make you regret it. But I guess I’d rather you treat me as a child than have to endure this distance you’ve put between us. It was that night during the hols, wasn’t it? I freaked you out with my feelings. I knew I should’ve kept my distance, but you should’ve seen yourself. Moonlit and dark-lidded and, as usual, breathtaking.  

Anyway, I love you despite your idiotic tendencies to push people away when you think you’re not good enough for them or whatever bullshit your mind spews out. (I can imagine your raised eyebrow as you call me a hypocrite, but let me have this.) Hope we can go back to normal sooner rather than later; it feels strange to not have you with me constantly. 

Xx Your favourite Marauder, Padfoot 

James’ gut churns while his mind scrambles to make sense of the words. Sirius had feelings? For him? He loved him? All this time, he was trying to protect his heart by distancing himself, but he never considered if Sirius had meant what he had said that night. The proof was right there.

And yet, it felt too good to be true.

The dorm is empty when James comes in, but the map is conveniently on Remus’ nightstand. Taking it with him, he finds Sirius seated in a window of an empty corridor on the third floor, resting his elbows on his knees and looking outside. He turns when he hears footsteps. His grey eyes widen for a fraction of a second when he sees James, before setting into a resigned expression.

“Modeling gig?” is the first thing that comes out of James’ mouth. “What the hell, Sirius.”

“Why are you here?” Sirius asks quietly. He looks withdrawn and guarded, and the look sends a pang through James’ chest. 

“I got your note.” James sits next to Sirius on the small seat and purses his lips when Sirius immediately pulls his feet close to himself. “I didn’t know—”

“It doesn’t matter, James,” Sirius bites back. His eyes, blank just moments before, is not bright with anger and hurt. His hands tremble where he’s clutching his knees, and he pauses to glare at them for a moment before continuing. “I know where I stand. You made it plenty clear. I just wanted to get it out of the way so I wouldn’t have to deal with this… this whole uncertainty when it comes to you. I know I won’t get what I want, and you know this too, so can we just pretend we talked about everything we needed to talk about and go back to normal?”

“What if I don’t want to go back to normal?” James retorts. He’s starting to feel a little angry himself. 

In an instant, Sirius deflates, eyes looking lost once again. “I don’t — I don’t understand. I know I messed up, but I didn’t think — I mean, is it such a bad thing for me to love you? I’d change it if I could, but somehow, my heart’s not getting the message.”

Shit, James thinks. He never wanted to make Sirius feel like he was at fault when it was James who ruined everything by catching feelings and panicking as soon as he realised them. 

Taking the silence for a response, Sirius sighs. “Look, I’m sorry it’s making you uncomfortable. Believe me, I’m doing everything I can to stop myself from feeling this way. Just — don’t push me away. If this is about that stupid deal, you can call it off. Dae other people. You’ve done more than enough for me. I honestly wouldn’t blame you if you want it to end.”

“Don’t stop,” James blurts out. “Don’t stop feeling everything you just said.”

“What?”

“It’s just that — I don’t want to pretend anymore.” Words spill out before James can think, and he’s hoping somehow Sirius will be able to understand what he’s trying to get at. “I don’t want to fake a relationship with you, because it’s getting too much.”

Sirius inhales sharply and nods, a little frantic. “Okay, yeah, okay. Totally. I understand. We don’t have to do this anymore. Consider yourself back on the market.”

“That’s not what I meant.” James can feel the frustration simmering under his skin. Unconsciously, his hands reach to grasp at the closest part of Sirius — his ankles — and he uses them to pull Sirius closer. A distant memory flickers into his mind of the night when they had last sat like this, legs intertwined. Mouths millimetres apart, cheeks flushed, breath hot and heavy. 

“I kept a distance from you because I was scared you wouldn’t feel the same way,” James says quietly. “I didn’t want to hurt you or myself, but I guess I failed anyway.”

“Why wouldn’t I feel the same way? Wait, how do you feel—”

“I’m in love with you, okay?” James says. It comes out louder than he meant for it to. There’s shocked silence on Sirius’ end as James’ words hang between them. James takes a deep breath. 

“I’ve been in love with you since fifth year,” he continues at a normal volume. “Lily and I had that Transfiguration project and I learned throughout that I don’t see her as anything more than a friend. The flirting had become a habit by then, I think, so I didn’t see it until we had to work together. It’s nothing like the way we click with each other. So yeah, I guess I love you. Too. Holy shit, you love me back, Si.”

Sirius laughs, a breathless little thing before his lips are on James’ and the rest of the world fades. Before, when Sirius had kissed him, James had felt like he was drowning, so wrapped in the scent and feel of his best friend that the emotions were overwhelming. Now, with the knowledge that his feelings were reciprocated, he feels like he’s floating, safe in Sirius’ embrace.

“I dreamed about this for ages,” Sirius murmurs as he sits back. “That’s the whole reason I started this whole fake dating thing. I didn’t think I’d have much luck asking you out properly, so I pulled this to, ah, test the waters, if you will.”

James snickers. “So all of this was what, a free trial?”

“Yes,” Sirius murmurs against his neck. James’ breathing hitches. “And I’m feeling very satisfied with the service thus far. But I can’t leave a fair review without testing out all the features. It wouldn’t be right.”

“Oh — ah, fuck — what did you have in mind?” James can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but pant as Sirius works his fingers into his hair and pulls, kissing him hard the whole time. When Sirius trails a hand down to cup James’ arse through his trousers, James feels his heart stop. 

There’s a wicked grin on Sirius’ face. “Now that I’ve tasted you up here, I kind of want to taste you down there too. See if the tastes match. Or something. I don’t know, I just want to blow you right now.”

James squeaks. “Like, right here? Aren’t we going too fast?”

Sirius sombers. “Jamie,” he whispers. “I’ve been wanting you since we were thirteen. If anything, I think we’re going too slow. But if you’re not ready, I can wait. I’ve waited four years for you, and I will wait four million more if that’s what you want.”

James nods quickly. “I want you too. So much. I’ve been going crazy these past few months trying not to jump into your lap and snog you senseless.”

Sirius smiles. It’s a soft, little thing, and James knows it’s meant only for him. “What’s keeping you now?”

James ducks his head with a blush. “I — can we go to our dorms first?”

“Oh, Prongs,” Sirius says with a shake of his head. “One day I’ll introduce you to the high of doing this in public.”

“You’re such an exhibitionist. No wonder you’re starting a modelling gig,” James chides as he links their hands together. It’s such an endearing sight that he can’t help but lift Sirius’ hands to his mouth and shower his fingers and knuckles with kisses. Sirius’ steps stutter and James looks up, delighted. 

“I was put on the spot,” Sirius says defensively. “I didn’t expect her to start asking questions. I just wanted her to give it to you, not interrogate me.”

“You could’ve just given it to me yourself, like a normal person.”

“We’re anything but normal. Anyway, I was too nervous about your reaction.”

“Touché. Still, it would’ve been loads better coming from you.”

“Then allow me to make it up to you.” Sirius tugs on James’ hand until he stops. He reaches up to frame James’ face as he gently presses their lips together. James isn’t sure how much time passes before they pull apart. As they lean their foreheads on each other, Sirius’ lips quirk. 

“Happy birthday, Jamie. I love you.”

James smiles and tucks in a strand of hair coming loose from Sirius’ bun. “I love you too.”

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hi, could you write a fic about Chubby!Harry coming home from school in a bad mood and not really eating any of his dinner (he normally wolfs it down then has seconds, so this worried James and Sirius) and then his dads ask him what’s wrong and it turns out people have been bullying him at school and the teachers have been ignoring it, and now some of them are getting involved too?

Lots of body-positive, hurt/comfort fluff, with protective Sirius and James going and giving the school a piece of their mind?

((A/N: Warning for mentions of bullying fat people and fatphobia.))

When Harry gets off the train and isn't bursting with happiness at seeing them again, Sirius tries not to take it personally. Harry is a teenager now, and it makes sense if he's more sad to leave his friends behind-- nothing compares to staying in the same dormitory as the best mates, he knows-- than happy to see his parents again.

He shares a look with James as they leave the station, and they agree that he'll shake it off soon enough.

Except he doesn't. His mood gets worse and worse. James practically drags him to the dinner table that night, and Harry only pokes at his food with a clenched jaw instead of eating it.

"Haz?" Sirius ventures.

Harry looks up from his plate, meeting his eyes dully.

"Is everything okay?"

"Fine."

"Are you sure?" James asks, unconvinced.

"Yes."

"It's just, you're not eating. I thought you liked Shepherd's pie," Sirius says. He would be worried that it didn't turn out except his piece is fine-- rather tasty, actually, since he has plenty of experience making it.

"I don't have an appetite is all."

"Did you eat a lot on the train?"

Harry's looks askance and gives a small shrug. He's lying, but as much as Sirius wants to get to the bottom of the matter, cornering Harry isn't going to help anything.

"It's alright. I'll set some aside so you can have it before you go to bed tonight," Sirius says, trying his best to smile like he doesn't suspect anything amiss.

"No, it's... it's fine," Harry tries. "I'll just eat a bit now."

While James and Sirius finish eating, Harry manages all of two bites.

"Alright Harry, that's enough," James says, pushing his empty plate away from himself so he can put his folded arms on the table. "What's wrong?"

Harry's expression turns pained. "Do I eat too much?"

"No, not at all," Sirius says, as James shakes his head. He isn't sure there is such a thing as eating too much, unless it makes one sick-- and Harry has never eaten so much that he puked. "Why would you think that?"

"Some people at school said..." Harry trails off, but it's not from a lack of words, it's from shame. His cheeks colour a self-conscious red.

"What did they say?" James asks sharply.

"I dunno," Harry mumbles. It's an obvious lie, and he continues on, almost as if he didn't say it at all. "That I'm... pigging out. That I'd lose weight if I ate less."

Sirius feels like his stomach drops to the floor.

"Who said that to you?" James asks.

Harry's shoulder shrink in on himself like he wants to disappear, but he answers the question without further prodding. "Everyone says it. Even the professors."

Sirius forces his voice to come out calmly. The last thing he wants is to sound angry and make Harry regret telling them. "Which professors?"

"Pa, I don't want to make a big deal out of it."

Both of his parents have to hold back the response that it is a big deal, because that's not going to help Harry feel better. A shared look between the two of them confirms that the professors will be hearing about it, but they're not sure how to handle the conversation right in front of them. Sirius tilts one corner of his mouth down-- he can't think of anything to say.

James clears his throat uncomfortably and looks back to Harry. Harry's gaze is trained on his barely touched meal, missing the quick interaction his fathers had. "You should be happy," James says, and it feels so simple and James to Sirius that he can't help but smile. "We're here to help you be happy. It's not a big deal to talk to your professors about something they shouldn't be doing or letting happen in the first place. One of the Defense professors in our day had it out for Pa, and your grandparents stepped in for him."

"I asked them not to, and I was embarrassed about it at the time, but it helped," Sirius adds softly. His heart aches looking at the warring emotions on their child's face. He recognises it from his own tumultuous teenage years; he hoped that Harry would never have to deal with anything that made him feel this way, but maybe growing up would always include something horrible.

Harry shifts uncomfortably. Then, so quietly they can barely hear, he lists the names of two professors. "Nobody says anything around the other professors, but they're..."

"We'll take care of it," James promises.

Sirius can't let his son sit there and look so sad, not when he can do something about it. He gets out of his seat and rounds the table to hug Harry from behind.

"Pa," Harry says, embarrassed, but in the usual way he is with his parents' antics, rather than personal shame.

"You're perfect, pup, you know that?"

"I'm not a pup anymore," Harry argues.

"You'll always be my pup."

"I'm glad to see you didn't deny the perfect part," James says, looking at them with a smile growing on his face.

Sirius keeps on hugging him because Harry isn't trying to get rid of him.

James's eyes flicker to Harry's plate once more. "Haz, Lily was heavy too." They don't talk about Lily much. She hadn't wanted to be involved after he was born, but then she died shortly after. It feels worse to not mention her role in Harry's existence, so they try to walk the line. Harry shares her genetics, and right now, that is worth talking about. "She was healthy, just like you are. There's nothing wrong with being fat."

Sirius loosens his arms and stands up enough to press a kiss to the top of Harry's head. He didn't want to let go, but he gets the feeling that he should anyways. He gives him a parting squeeze and rounds the table to give James a hug because his husband, at least, will always hug him back. With James's hand coming up to touch his arm, he feels grounded enough to offer, "Do you want me to find you something else to eat?"

"No, this- this is fine. Thanks." Harry takes a small bite, and they go from there.

*

In private-- and with a silencing spell to ensure Harry can't overhear-- they rage. They both need to rant and curse anyone who would treat Harry this way, and when it's just the two of them, they can do it. 

It's not only the two professors, it's the Gryffindor prefects too. Harry made a point of pretending like it wasn't that big of a deal the whole time, even though it was obvious he was hurting. He didn't tell them the names of all the students, just the ones with a bit more power. Prefects in the various Houses, a few upperclassmen. He even stressed that his friends told off anyone that said it, but they had their own studies and it's not like he needs them to look after him anyways. He tried so hard to downplay it while still answering their questions. It was understandable, but infuriating.

After they get the first wave of it out of their systems, it's time to plan. Professor Dumbledore is the Headmaster so he'll have to be involved in some fashion, but he's not the one who will be dealing with the situation-- that'll be Professor McGonagall. She's the Head of House for Gryffindor, and much more hands on than Dumbledore could ever be. She should be looking after Harry now that the prefects can't be trusted to do a bloody thing except add to it.

When they manage to get McGonagall on the floo, she is gratifyingly concerned. When they mention that the Gryffindor prefects are part of the problem, she looks incensed.

"I wanted it to feel better," James says, after they're done talking to her and she's gone from their fireplace.

"What do you mean?"

"I wanted to feel good after we took care of it. Maybe... I dunno, happy? Happy that Harry won't have to deal with it anymore, but I don't. I just feel angry, same as I did before."

"I know what you mean," Sirius says, taking James's hand in both of his own. "Maybe it'll feel good once he goes back to school and doesn't have to deal with it anymore. Right now, he's still with us. It's like nothing's changed yet."

"Yeah, maybe," James says noncommittally.

Sirius waits for him to finish whatever thought is in his head that's giving him so much trouble and isn't disappointed.

"I'm mad that it happened at all."

"Me too," Sirius agrees softly.

"I thought making sure it won't happen again would make that go away, but it didn't. I'm still angry."

Sirius squeezes his hand. He is too. He's not sure anything's going to make it disappear. "As long as it gets better, we'll move on."

"Right." James smiles at him. "Of course, you're right."

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Fat Slytherin Sirius ate away his frustration over his crush on Gryffindor James?

He’s a loner (his only friend is Regulus), he thinks he’s huge and gross and no one would fancy him (especially someone as gorgeous as James), but James has secretly crushed on him hard all these years.

Maybe it’s Valentines Day and Sirius always gets a huge box of Honeydukes every year from a secret admirer? This year, however, the receipt is accidentally left in, and James’s name is on it.

((A/N: Warnings for eating disorders and fatphobia! I try to go light on both of them, but they are present so tread carefully))

Sirius eats when he’s frustrated. He's always been this way. When he was a kid, he could run and play and his parents never bothered to stop him. Ever since Hogwarts though, he started putting on weight. He was sat in class for countless hours. The most exercise he got was walking up and down the staircases since he didn't care for flying and there was no other sport at the school.

At the start, being chubby didn't bother him. He looked just like his dad when Orion was a kid, and it stood to reason that Sirius would look like him as an adult, as well-- and while he has many issues with his father, looking like him isn't one of them.

But Hogwarts is different. People's gazes don't interact with him the way they do others. He learns to be self-conscious, and there's no escape-- not with everything else going on in his life. It doesn't help that he doesn't have any friends. The only person in Slytherin that he can stand is his own brother (and Regulus has the same problem as him that manifests in the opposite way: refusing to eat). 

He likes people in other Houses, but he doesn't know how to make any of them friends. He doesn't know if any of them would even be interested in it as a possibility, what with him being in Slytherin and a Black, to boot. With the world the way it is right now, well, he can understand why they'd keep him at a distance even if he managed to give it a try. And he doesn't really have anything in common with most other students, does he? The number of fat students at Hogwarts can be counted on one hand.

He's... disgusting. His parents can say all day long that he doesn't need to concern himself with how others think of his body, but considering their other views, he doesn't believe it. When he manages to have a sense of humour about it-- something that is happening less frequently-- he jokes that between him and Regulus, they do manage to eat enough for two people; Sirius eats enough for one and three quarters, and Regulus eats enough for one quarter. It's enough to get a smile from his brother, weak and too pale though he is.

Sirius wears layers, keeps his eyes to himself, and... okay, he mostly keeps his eyes to himself. One student caught his attention back in first year, and he’s being pining from afar ever since.

James Potter. Gryffindor. Quidditch Captain. Head Boy. Confident, fit, popular.

They're in the same year. They take the same electives, so they share a fair bit of lessons. The occasional partnered assignment during class has pushed them together.

So it's not like James has no idea who he is. It's more like he doesn't care. And why would he? He's everything Sirius isn't. Back in fifth year, Sirius had thought there was something there, but it hadn't taken long for reality to slap his hopes down. James got detention for snogging McCool in the corridor two days after Sirius thought he had a chance.

James was-- and is-- perfect.

Across the Great Hall, James laughs, loud and bright. He looks so bloody happy all the time, Sirius has no idea how he does it. 

James is off the wall gorgeous. Simply calling him 'attractive' doesn't feel like enough, for the way his image haunts Sirius's every step. He dreams about him more often than not, and it's never a disappointment. No one should be that handsome. His smile looks like it stole a piece of the sun, how ridiculous is that? It's absurd.

And it's not just his face and his smile and his sodding laugh that does Sirius in. No, his body had to be fucking perfect too. He plans to play Quidditch professionally-- it's no secret-- so he exercises more than anyone else on his team does. He puts in so much work and the results are obvious. Robes are good for hiding the finer details, but an accident in Herbology made his chest bare for a few glorious minutes that Sirius would never forget.

Sirius sighs, taking a few more bites of his mashed potatoes. Excellent dish, that. Regulus isn't eating it-- too heavy, probably. Sirius grabs another roll for himself and tosses one on Regulus's plate while he's at it-- bread is 'easier', he once said.

Regulus gingerly picks up the roll and takes a small bite. He chews for a long time, but he manages to swallow it. "What's got you in a mood?"

He shrugs, unwilling to disclose the details. He's pretty sure that Regulus knows he has a crush on someone, but Sirius doesn't want him to know the details, and even if he was willing to tell, he isn't going to do it during a meal, with plenty of people around to overhear.

Regulus takes another bite of the roll, larger than this time. "Tomorrow's Valentine's Day, maybe that'll perk you up."

"Why should it? I'm not dating anyone; I'm sure you've noticed." His heart gnaws against his chest and he switches to the roast that has-- until now-- been neglected on his plate.

"Someone sends you a box of chocolates each year," Regulus says. His voice picks up at the end; he's trying to cheer him up despite his own questionable mood.

"Yeah." His chest doesn't hurt as much. "I guess there's that to look forward to. Assuming they bother to send one this year."

"I'm sure they will," Regulus says, but he isn't.

Sirius isn't sure it'll happen either, despite trends that point the opposite. This 'secret admirer' has sent him a box of chocolates each Valentine's Day since first year. It would feel rather strange if they didn't tomorrow. Whoever it is also sent him a sodding present for his birthday the last three years. He only knows that it's the same person because each gift tag reads 'I hope you like it'. Sirius has a collection of 'I hope you like it' cards tucked among his belongings, a reminder he needs that someone out there likes him even though they don't have to. He's going to miss it when he graduates Hogwarts.

His eyes wander back to James at the Gryffindor table, an easy smile on his face as he talks to his friends and the gaggle of admirers that follow him.

*

Valentine's Day dawns, and Sirius is munching on plain toast and pumpkin juice, not feeling overly hungry, for once. He wonders if he can keep this up. Even if it's just breakfast, surely that will have some sort of impact on how his body looks? A nice, light meal to start the day and keep him energized instead of feeling bogged down the way he usually does in the morning.

Regulus doesn't show up to breakfast before the post arrives for the day.

An owl carrying a large, rectangular box approaches Sirius, swooping down to leave the package and flying away again without so much as waiting for a treat-- standard fare for this delivery.

The package is wrapped in simple brown paper, but it's tied together with a silky black ribbon to hold the note in place.

I hope you like it, your secret admirer

Sirius unties it and carefully sets the note aside. The ribbon is magically tethered to the package to keep it safe, so he cuts through it with a simple spell and rips at the paper. Part of the box is revealed through the hole, and mmm, it's Honeydukes, as usual. Why this person insists on buying the biggest box available, Sirius has no idea, but he's appreciative.

He works on getting the rest of the wrapping paper off so he can Vanish the lot of it, and something white flutters down. Sirius grabs it, curious about what it is and why it's in his present when there never has been in the past, and reads it.

Then he freezes, a cold chill working down his spine.

It's a receipt for the chocolates, signed by one James Potter. The paper crumples in his hand as a humiliated flush rises in his cheeks. James likes his pranks, and he's no stranger to cruelty, but that cruelty had always been contained to the mini-Death Eaters in Slytherin while everyone else handled the harmless ones that came to the Gryffindor's mind.

Sirius shrinks the box and shoves it-- and the crumpled receipt-- into his bag.

Maybe a bigger breakfast would do him some good. He eats until he's full, then just a little bit more so he has something to make him feel better when he confronts James about this. Regulus comes up to breakfast with dark circles under his eyes and chokes down some eggs before they're off for class.

His first class of the day is History of Magic. Dull rubbish, and they share it with Gryffindor-- something that usually enhances his mood, but not today. He listens to Binns lecture, arms crossed over his chest as he leans back in the chair, and ignores the occasional glance James sends his way. Normally, James doesn't look at him-- Sirius is all-too aware of this because he spends so much time looking. Of course, Sirius is usually in a good mood on Valentine's Day, despite him being single; the gift from his secret admirer never failed to make him happy. It makes sense that James is confused by the change today.

He sits there, miserable, and wants to eat all the chocolates because he deserves them for putting up with such abuse, damn it. They are a gift, he should be able to enjoy them no matter the motives behind the person giving it.

Throughout the course of class, he notices that James doesn't really have the look of someone waiting for a joke to land. He seems nervous, almost-- like he's thinking 'maybe the package wasn't delivered'.

If James did mean the gifts in the way all his notes said, then Sirius should thank him. If he didn't mean it that way, then Sirius should thank him anyways. If he does like Sirius (doubtful), then talking about it might lead somewhere. If he doesn't, then Sirius wants to call him out and see what he has to say for himself. James won't be ashamed because he never has been for any of the tricks he's pulled, but Sirius is confident in his ability to talk him into a corner, should it become necessary.

Despite all his reasoning telling him that this must have been a terrible joke, he can't help the nugget of hope in his belly, wishing it to be true. He's spent so many years dreaming about James Potter. Thinking that maybe those feelings are returned makes him feel better than he has in ages. It's worth a shot.

Class lets out. James usually lags behind, not in a hurry to get to his next class because it's so close. It's easy for Sirius to take his time putting away his unused parchment and quill. He grabs the receipt from where he shoved it and straightens it a bit-- it's not a good look to have destroyed it in anger. When he walks out, James isn't far behind.

"Hey, James?"

The Gryffindor perks up, turning to face him. His mates all have a different class for the next block, so they're already gone, and nobody else is close enough to pay attention.

"You left this in the package," Sirius says, holding it out to him.

James takes the receipt with a confused frown, clearly not recognising it for what it is until a second later when he gives it a closer look. "Ah." His face doesn't transform into a cruel smirk or condescending pity. His expression is rather blank, as a matter of fact, as if he's trying to think of what to say-- which Sirius takes as a good sign.

"I know you didn't mean for me to find out, but thanks. I don't know why you did it, but I guess that's got nothing to do with me. See you around." He starts to leave but stops when he feels a touch on his shoulder. He faces James once more. "Hm?"

"What do you mean 'why I did it'? I left notes."

"Ha, yeah, but that's what people write on notes, innit? It's easier to say 'from a secret admirer' than come up with something else."

"I do admire you," James says, eyes honest.

Sirius shifts his weight uncomfortably; he can't possibly mean that. "Look, we don't need to do this. I just wanted to say thanks."

"I know I'm not your favourite person in the world, but would letting me talk you into a date be the worst thing?"

"...What?" No really, what? A date? Where the hell did that come from? If he didn't know better, he'd be thinking that James fancies him.

"I think you might like me a little if you gave me a chance, is all. I mean, we get on alright when we get partnered together in class-- you never seem annoyed with me, at least, and that's a step up from how you treat most people."

Sirius blinks at him. "Do you think I don't like you?"

"You don't like anyone," James shrugs, as if it's obvious. And, well, it is.

"That's because people don't like me."

"I really don't see how that's true-" what the fuck planet is James living on? "-but whatever. Does that mean you'll think about it?"

"Think about what?" Talking to James has never been so confusing, and that's including every interaction stretched out over their six and a half years of shared classes. It's like they're having two different conversations right now.

"Going on a date with me."

"You want that?" Sirius asks incredulously, unable to keep a matching expression from his face. He doesn't mean to sound so surprised by it, but he can't help it. The idea that James, the most fit bloke in Hogwarts, wants to go on a date with him, is ludicrous.

"Yeah." He shrugs one shoulder with a sheepish smile that makes Sirius's heart skip a beat. "I thought all the gifts had sort of given it away."

"I mean, yeah, I did think that might be the case, before I figured out it was you sending them."

"Why would it be different if it's me?"

"Have you seen you? And-" he doesn't want to say it, but he feels he has to "-have you seen me? It doesn't really match up, does it?"

"Who gives a shit if it matches up? I fancy you. It should be that easy, don't you think?"

"Yeah, but..."

"But what?"

"But that's not how it works," Sirius finishes with a sigh. He readjusts the strap of his bag for something to do. He doesn't like thinking of it in these terms-- 'I look like this and you look like that, so we can't be together'. He doesn't like feeling terrible about how he looks, but ignoring it altogether in this conversation wouldn't have done him any favours. It is good that he said it, rather than accept James's offer and let the topic fester. "So maybe we should forget about this." That's where they'd end up anyways, right?

James is silent for a moment. Then, looking at Sirius like he's seeing through his eyes and right into the depths of his soul, he says, "You didn't strike me as the type to accept that. If you don't want to date me, then- y'know, say it and I'll leave you alone, I swear. But don't stand there and tell me that we're not going to just because people will think it's weird."

"Of course I want to date you," Sirius sighs, because really, doubting that is ridiculous, "but you can't possibly like me."

"Do you really think of me like that?"

"I mean... no?"

James makes a face at how thoroughly uncertain Sirius sounds. "I think you're cute, but- you know what, if you don't want to believe me on that, that's up to you, but I think you're brilliant and funny."

"What?" 

"It's why I noticed you back in first year. Gryffindor and Slytherin had Charms together then, I don't know if you-"

"Yeah, I remember," Sirius says. He'd noticed James in that class too. His laugh, specifically, had been what made Sirius look over and take real notice of him amongst all of their yearmates. Then he’d looked a little longer, seen his spellwork, and that was that. 

James looks, for a moment, as if he's not seeing anything in front of him. Whatever memory he has of the first time he noticed Sirius, he's lost in it. "Look, I want to date you. I like how you look, and I fancy you. I'll say it every day if that's what you need to believe it, but if you're not willing to meet me halfway, then there's nothing I can do about that."

If Sirius wants to date him, he'll have to take the next step-- and it's a simple step. All he has to say is 'yes', and that will be it. Once he gives James his answer, he'll take care of it.

"So?" James asks hopefully.

"Well," Sirius replies, smiling awkwardly, "anyone that gives me chocolate this good deserves a chance."

James beams at him.

Sirius blushes with the full force of that expression trained on him. He wishes that he'll stop blushing, but his face pinks and stays that way.

"We're both free this block. Did you want to do something?"

"Sure."

[imaginejamesandsirius]

I was hoping you can write one with tooth rotting fluff. Maybe about Sirius being insecure because of his messed up home life and James making it his mission to shower him with hugs and praises 🥰

"You're the best person in the world," James says, very seriously, drink in one hand and the other gripping Sirius's shoulder. "You're- blimey, you're the best. Like, out of the entire population on this planet, if one person had to be picked as the best, it would be you."

"I'm not sure you have all the information to properly make that claim," he laughs, causing James to frown.

"No, I'm right."

"Sure about that, are you?" 

"Yes, because I've met you! You're awesome. You're so smart, everything you say should be written down for posperi- postert- we should write it all down so we can remember it because it's all right. And you-"

Lily tunes him out as he extols Sirius's virtues and turns to Peter and Remus-- both of whom, she notes, don't look like they've been listening to this from the start. "Is James always like this when he's drunk? Going on and on about how wonderful he thinks Sirius is?"

"Yes," they both say.

"Though, hang on a second," Remus adds. He shifts in his chair to turn towards her. "'When he's drunk' makes it sound like Prongs only does this when he's drunk."

"Mm, yeah, not true. He does this a lot," Peter says.

"Any time he's tired."

"Any time he's in a really good mood."

"Any time Sirius frowns for more than two seconds."

"Okay," Lily interjects when it looks like they'll continue, "I get the picture." Bloody hell. Peter and Remus had to be exaggerating at least a little bit-- otherwise she would've noticed sooner-- but for them to so easily complain about James talking about it, it had to be a more regular occurrence than she originally thought. She wants to pay attention to the drinking game some sixth years are playing like she was doing before James caught her attention, but when she turns to the group, her eyes drift back towards the pair.

James has been talking the entire time-- topic unchanged-- and he's now got an arm around Sirius instead of facing him. The hand holding his drink is curled into Sirius's chest as well, like he needs the extra point of contact to drive his point home.

Sirius is listening with an indulgent smile on his face. This strikes Lily as egotistical, and she frowns.

Remus catches her expression and guesses (incorrectly) what it's over. "If you're waiting for James to be done so you can talk to him, you're going to be waiting a long time."

"Ha, yeah."

*

James rests his chin on Sirius's shoulder and slips his arms around him at the same time. "You want to talk about it?" he asks quietly, aware of their dormmates on the other side of the room.

"Nothing to talk about," Sirius mutters-- a blatant lie.

"Mhm."

He's still glaring at the wall like it's done him wrong.

"You have me, you know that?" James whispers. "No matter what happens or what you do, you're stuck with me." He turns his face into Sirius's hair and inhales deeply. "You couldn't get rid of me if you tried."

"I figured, what with you acting like a bloody barnacle." He doesn't look happy but the glare is gone. Mission accomplished.

*

"Sirius!" James calls, barreling into his friend. He's so happy to see him that he lifts him off his feet, making Sirius laugh. "I missed you so much."

"It's been two hours," Lily says, rolling her eyes.

"Two hours too long, don't you know that, Evans?" Sirius says as he's set back down. "These sodding meetings of yours are killing our friendship."

James gasps theatrically, turning to Lily with wide eyes. "Maybe we can take him with us next time."

"No."

"But I need him! He keeps my brain working."

Sirius nods in agreement, but Lily rolls her eyes. She knows by now that it's useless to argue or try to find any logical reason why that's a bad idea, so she just says, "No," again as she walks up the staircase to the girls' dormitories.

*

"I know I joke a lot, but you know that I think you're great, yeah?" James asks.

Sirius glances over at him, but James's eyes are trained at the sky stretching out above them. They're laying on the Quidditch Pitch, looking at the stars. Ostensibly they came out here to drink; there's a bottle of firewhiskey beside them, but neither have reached for it. They haven't said much of importance tonight, which makes the question feel sudden.

"Like, I make a big production of it and shout it to the world like I'm teasing you, but it's the truth." James rolls his head to the side and meets Sirius's eyes. His hazel eyes are warm, flecked with bits of brown, and Sirius could drown in them, he's sure. He moves his hand, sliding his palm against Sirius's and squeezing. "I'd rather be with you than anyone else."

It feels ridiculous, sometimes, when James talks like this. He means it. He means it in a way Sirius can't wrap his head around. Every good thing he says about Sirius, he believes like it's a fact of life.

This time, Sirius smiles at him and says, "I know." Then, grin widening, he adds, "And I mean it what I say about you, too. Best bloke the world has ever seen."

James laughs. It curls his body a little, and he rolls onto his side to move with it. His hand is still holding Sirius's, and he uses the other to cup his cheek. "Imagine what our wedding vows will sound like."

"Everyone will leave the room before you're done talking about why you want to marry me."

"They can try," James says, his eyes glinting. "I'll ward the doors. No one leaves without my say-so."

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hi! First, I just want to say that you are my favorite ao3 author <3 Can you do one where James starts getting suspicious of Sirius after he starts avoiding him. James thinks that it was because Sirius found out about his feelings and was uncomfortable about his pining but it turns out that he was hiding his injuries from his abusive parents? Hurt/comfort pls

((A/N: In line with the prompt, this mentions child abuse))

Sirius is avoiding him. It's obvious, and James kind of wants to grab his best mate and sit on him so he can't escape, but he has a sinking feeling that he knows why Sirius is avoiding him-- and that's much worse than being confused. A few weeks ago, he realised that he’s in love with Sirius. It's impossible to avoid thinking about, since they spend so much time together, and James? James doesn't do subtle. He didn't say anything to Sirius about his feelings, but it must’ve been obvious. He knows that he stares too much and gets lost in daydreams, and his expression doesn't hide anything.

He's in love with Sirius, and while he would like to date Sirius-- and marry him, but that might be even more terrifying for him to say aloud, if pining alone scared Sirius off-- he's not willing to sacrifice their friendship for it. He also knows that his feelings for Sirius aren't going to evaporate, so when Sirius starts to avoid him, James lets it happen. It'll give Sirius the space he wants, and-- he hopes-- the time to get used to the idea so that they can go back to being mates like nothing happened.

Except it doesn't happen.

Sirius isn't avoiding him completely, but it's far from being attached at the hip like they usually are. After three weeks of being bored out of his skull with all his time alone, James decides that enough is enough. He'll apologise for his feelings and let Sirius know that he doesn't expect anything from him, and then they can go back to normal. They've never had to deal with a weird patch like this, so he isn't sure that it'll go as smoothly as that, but why would things go worse? No point in thinking about it, he decides.

It's a night where there's no Quidditch practice and neither of them have detention, so James grabs the Marauders' Map and finds Sirius's stationary footprints just outside the castle walls, near the greenhouses. He is really hiding out to be over there-- they'd long since discovered that sound traveled too well by those buildings, and as such, don't hang out there.

James tucks the Map inside his robes, grabs the Invisibility Cloak, and leaves.

It is- well, it is weird for Sirius to be this upset about James fancying him, isn't it? His feelings should've made things awkward, not made Sirius run away for a few weeks just to avoid dealing with it. Maybe something else is going on with Sirius, and he just hadn't noticed because he was so sure the problem was his feelings. That would be- not better, really, but at least it wouldn't be James's fault.

James pulls off the Cloak as he gets close and folds it over his arm. "Enjoying the view?"

Sirius jumps in surprise, but he relaxes the instant he sees who it is. "Yeah, it's beautiful," he says, waving a hand half-heartedly at the view of the buildings surrounding them. 

"Better than the Black Lake." James sits down next to him, not thinking to keep his distance. Their arms bump together as he sits, and Sirius withdraws with a jerk. "Er."

Sirius looks down at the ground, as if ashamed of his reaction.

"Look, I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he repeats with a frown.

"I didn't think me fancying you would make you so uncomfortable, but- look, Padfoot, I gave you a few weeks like you wanted, but us not being friends anymore is ridiculous, don't you think?"

"You fancy me?"

"Yeah, isn't that what this is about?" James asks, gesturing vaguely at Sirius and the greenhouses.

Sirius looks up, meeting his eyes. The moon is nearly full, so there's enough light to see his expression-- he looks heartbroken. "No. Merlin, no, I had no idea."

That's a relief that can't be overstated, easing the pain that had been gripping James's chest ever since this started. But if it's not him that made Sirius keep his distance, then what is it? He casts his mind out for an answer, but nothing jumps out. "Then what's going on?"

Sirius continues to look at him, then slowly leans in. It's obvious what he's doing as he reaches for James and their faces line up, but he can't quite believe that it's happening until their lips meet. "I wish you'd told me sooner," he breathes, then kisses James again.

James feels like he's floating. Each kiss Sirius gives him feel like this can't be real because it's so good. How is this happening? Ten minutes ago, he'd been sure that this was impossible and now... Merlin, now Sirius is holding onto him like he wants him and it makes the last few weeks feel like they never happened.

Only, when they stop kissing and decide to head back to the dormitory, James realises that Sirius never explained his avoidance. The Map is open in front of them, easing the way to Gryffindor Tower. James is the one navigating, so when he stops walking, Sirius does the same. He looks over and asks, "Why were you avoiding me the past few weeks? I thought it was because I fancy you, but you said it's not." 

Sirius swallows and doesn't meet his eyes. He's never been good at lying to James, and now is no different. "It's nothing."

"It didn't feel like nothing. The only reason I let it happen is because I thought it was my fault, but it wasn't. So, spill."

Nothing.

James puts an arm around Sirius's shoulders, but it's not the casual way he usually does it-- it's to stop him from running away. He starts walking again and drags Sirius along with him. He's not exactly sure how to make Sirius answer him. Sirius doesn't keep things from him, so he never needed to learn how. It means that he doesn't know what to do to make Sirius tell him but they're still best friends; he knows him pretty damn well. And right now, Sirius is unreasonably tense, in a way he's not when James is the one touching him. Unbidden, his mind retrieves the memory of when a bludger had taken Sirius out during a game; there had been a firm tension to his body then, too... identical to the way he's holding himself now. James grits his teeth but doesn't let go. "Are you hurt?"

For a moment, Sirius winds himself even tighter, and it feels like he's going to shatter, but then he breathes out, loosening fraction by fraction. It doesn't leave him relaxed, but he no longer looks like he's going to snap in two. "I didn't tell you because I knew you'd freak out. It's not a big deal, it's just taking longer to heal than I thought."

James ignores the comment about him freaking out. "How'd you get hurt?"

"...It's not a big deal."

"Yeah, you said that. How'd you get hurt?" he repeats, even though he has the uneasy feeling that he already knows. After all, who else could it be? Anybody else, and Sirius would've been able to defend himself; anybody else, and James would've already hexed their bollocks off.

Sirius clenches his jaw and says nothing, but they share a look that says it all: his parents.

James loosens his hold around Sirius's shoulders; now that he's not going to run away, there's no point in holding on so tight. He licks his lips as he tries to think of how to phrase the offer. "D'you want me to take a look?"

"No," he says, recoiling with wide eyes.

"I'm decent at Healing, and you're pants at it. Maybe I can help a little."

Sirius doesn't immediately tell him 'no' again; James wants to think of it as a victory, but it probably means that he's hurt badly enough that he doesn't mind-- as much-- if James sees him like that. He hates to be vulnerable, James knows. There's further hesitation before he says, "Only if you promise not to... be all James about it."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You get all... I dunno, panicky. I'm not going to Madame Pomfrey, and I don't want to hear you suggest it."

James knows he's going to regret this but, "I promise."

"And I want to snog when you're done worrying," he adds with a smirk.

James rolls his eyes, feigning an aloofness he doesn't feel. "You've a one track mind, don't you?"

"I'm prioritizing."

They banter back and forth as they walk to the dormitory, only quieting as they near the Fat Lady and don the Invisibility Cloak. James is as aware as ever about how close they are when they're both under it. As kids, they fit comfortably. Now that they've grown into themselves, it's less silly shuffling and learning to walk at the same time, and more James trying to control his body's natural reaction at being so close to Sirius.

The common room is empty, allowing them to pull off the Cloak. Sirius shoots him a knowing smirk, and he blushes. He doesn't want to, but he's caught out and there's no point in lying to Sirius, of all people. He can tell, as they trek up the stairs, that Sirius is hoping he'll lose focus. He wants for James to forget all about his injury-- injuries? he doesn't know and he's scared-- but it will take more than this to distract him. Even though it is a very... tempting distraction. Merlin, he needs to get his head on straight.

They're both lightfooted as they walk around the room, not wanting to wake their dormmates. They dress for bed, and Sirius joins James in his bed without question. James was a perfect gentleman when they were changing and didn't sneak a look at the injuries Sirius was hiding, but now the curtains are spelled to give them privacy, and Sirius is delaying taking off his shirt. He toys with the drawstring of his bottoms before heaving a sigh.

"Remember that you promised not to freak out," he mutters as he off his shirt.

For a moment, James worries that he'll be so busy checking him out that he won't be paying adequate attention to how hurt Sirius is. That worry vanishes the second his eyes take in the extent of the damage laid on Sirius's torso. 

With the reminder of his promise fresh in his mind, he holds back the rage that boils to life. He clenches his hands, fingers curled in so tightly they might stay that way. Magical injuries always look the worst. A bruise from banging into a door doesn't look the same as a bruise from a curse. Something about the tint of it makes it feel more sickly, and with the numerous ones on Sirius, highlighted by the occasional bandage, it's like a plague.

"Are-" James has to stop and clear his throat. When he tries again, he sounds much more in control. "Are those cuts?" he asks, gesturing to the bandages.

Sirius nods, jaw tight.

"I'll see what I can do for those. And I've got that extra-strength cream for bruises that we can use on the rest."

Sirius nods again and gingerly peels off the tape for one of his bandages so James can take a better look, then lays down and waits. He's tense but trying so hard not to be. It's obvious that he wants to cover up again, but he keeps his eyes safely out of the way and lets James work.

Reading about the different kinds of injuries was a lot more fun than seeing them right in front of him. Learning about it all sent a thrill through him-- the knowledge he had that others didn't, the power to heal what others couldn't. Seeing Sirius hurt just makes him want to hurl. There's no excitement to it. There's no comfort that he'll feel better at the end of this.

He touches Sirius carefully and warns before he casts any spell. He tries half a dozen, hoping for any noticeable change. His eyes strain from peering so closely, and he only calls it to an end when he feels himself tiring from all the magic in such a short time. He pulls off his glasses with a grimace and rubs at his eyes. "Sorry I couldn't do more."

"It's alright. I feel loads better," Sirius says, and it doesn't even sound like a lie.

James opens his eyes and looks at the slightly blurry figure with a flat expression. "You don't look any better now than when I started."

"I dunno if it looks any different, but it does feel better." He puts a hand on James's knee and strokes back and forth with his thumb. "Thanks."

James makes a vague noise of acknowledgment and lays down, facing him. He's close enough like this that his features are clear, even without the glasses.

Sirius turns so he's on his side, their faces scant inches apart. 

Given their conversation earlier, James half-expects for Sirius to kiss him. He can't believe he's thinking it, but he doesn't want him to. He doesn't want to be exhausted from magic and anger at Sirius's parents when they snog; it should be happy, like they are when they're together. 

"Promise you won't be angry about it in the morning?"

"If you think that's possible, then you don't know me," James replies with a smile, that Sirius reflects.

"Yeah, I didn't think so," he snickers. "I'll take a raincheck on that other promise. I still want to snog my new boyfriend." 

"But not now?" James checks. He doesn't want to right now either-- thinks it would be a bad idea if they did-- but he wants to be sure.

"Not now," Sirius confirms, looking soft around the edges. "Though..." He hesitates, then leans forward and gently presses their lips together. It's only for a few seconds, and it's clear this is the most they're going to do tonight; it's the most either of them want to do after that. He rolls over carefully, then scoots back so James can hold him. 

They've slept like this before, with James holding onto him like a stuffie. He hesitates because of Sirius's injuries, but that's taken care of a moment later when Sirius grabs his arm and pulls it over his waist, interlocking their fingers and hugging James's hand to his chest.

[imaginejamesandsirius]

Hello all!

I was hoping I wouldn't have to make this an official announcement, but here we are. Before you get too worried, no, this blog is not being archived or abandoned.

I (siriuslystarbucks) am the main writer for this blog. Depending on how long you've been following, you might remember the days when I tried to post a filled prompt once a week. You've probably noticed that I haven't been able to hold to that goal for a while now. There are, of course, other writers, but I don't ask for the same commitment from them as I tried to hold myself to. I have no intention of trying to dump this blog off on someone who would only feel stressed.

To reiterate, this blog isn't going to be abandoned, but it is going to be on the backburner. I've been having some health issues (for the past ~year and a half) that make writing reliably rather difficult. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to make an announcement, but I haven't gotten well enough to promise timely fills. I'm still going to be around, and I'll keep an eye on the prompt list and write if RL allows, but expect for things to stay quiet.

I wanted to end this post by giving a HUGE thank you to all the fans of this blog that have read, commented, and sent in prompts. I really appreciate it! Hopefully, we'll be back and kicking before you know it 💛💛💛