omgmarauders

[omgmarauders]

sirius: i love tattoos

regulus: yet you don’t approve of mine

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for generations to come

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James Potter my beloved

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4th year I think for exactly 1 year Sirius was the tallest amongst them.

do not repost my art.

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Listening to her words, Regulus pressed his lips together as though in thought. His mind flickered briefly to the doubts that tugged at him in private moments, but he pushed them down, as he always did. There was nothing more devastating than allowing them to the surface, especially in the company of his family. Even Narcissa.

"Perhaps," he agreed, his tone tight, deliberately controlled. It didn't betray the conflict that swirled beneath it, but his posture was a little too rigid, his gaze still fixed on the room’s decor as though it could somehow anchor him. When ready, after allowing the silence to stretch a beat too long, his gaze returned to Narcissa. "Regardless, it's representative." This wasn't said with resentment, only finality. It was a mere truth.

What suits the family. Regulus thought that perhaps Narcissa was right, but for the wrong reasons. Regulus wasn't going to pretend he was the perfect male heir for the black family. Sirius would have been much better in those shoes, in theory. But as far as what was good for the family... Perhaps he knew better than his cousins, than his parents on that front. The Black family - sacred twenty-eight and a legacy that spanned generations. Yet, bowing to the Dark Lord. Servants. He wouldn't dare speak those thoughts. He barely dared to think them. "We all carry the weight of being a Black. Whether we thrive in the limelight or the shadows."

Her comment about his brother caused him to tense even moreso. He exhaled through his nose, a sharp sound that could’ve been a laugh. Could've. The topic of his brother would forever be a sore spot. It had been years, but none of those years apart could erase the memories they did have together. The years had stained them, warped them, and repurposed them... But, Regulus couldn't help but long for something that could never be. He glanced at her briefly, then away again. Narcissa was aware, likely more than anyone, of what his brother's departure had meant for Regulus. Though even she hadn't been told of the full weight of it. Reg's tight-lipped nature was not a new phenomenon. "We all make our choices." The words were clipped, too final, as if daring her to press further. He wasn’t willing to discuss his brother with her, not now—not ever, perhaps. Not when he wasn't sure of where his own loyalties stood.

Narcissa turned the serpent-shaped stopper in her hands, her expression cool but faintly touched with a wry smile. She didn't glance back at Regulus immediately, letting the soft glow of the library lamps play across the antique's coiled form.

"Fitting, yes," she murmured, her voice smooth and measured, but with an undercurrent of something sharper. "Though I sometimes wonder if it's the serpent that defines us, or we who give it meaning." She tilted her head, finally meeting his gaze. "Perhaps both."

Her lips curved in a faint smile, not unkind but marked by the weight of their shared legacy. "It is a good pick," she agreed, setting the stopper down with deliberate care. "You’ve always had an eye for what suits the family, haven’t you, Regulus? Even when you kept yourself a step apart." There was no reproach in her tone, only a quiet acknowledgment of truths best left unspoken.

Turning slightly toward him, her fingers brushed the edge of a nearby shelf. "The Blacks and their serpents," she mused. "I wonder if your brother will ever fully be able to shed his skin."

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"Exactly." A smile followed the tipping of his head, almost as though he was taking his crown off to her. "Why waste time flipping through pages upon pages when you can simply exist near the knowledge?" His gaze levelled with hers. "It's worked wonders for me. Really cleared up my schedule."

"As mentioned," James said, the whisp of a smile on his lips, "Osmosis helps you learn many things. Though I would advise against improper use of such a charm. It would cause chaos, I believe." He nodded his head as if to approve of his own point. "And we both know I am adamantly against chaos." Truthfully, he couldn't see what good the use of a flirting glow charm would have - much less have any reason to use it. It was a similar tactic to amortentia, which just did not work. Would you ever feel happy with the result?

"A very prestigious reference, that. Bound to propel you to an O." Those titles sat pretty well with James, if he was honest. "Scholarly indeed. I'll have to officially adopt those titles."

James propped himself up on one elbow, leaning against the table and feigning a look of utmost distress. “Mary, you wound me,” he drawled, placing a hand dramatically over his heart. "I've been known to pick up a quill or two in my time." He cocked his head. "But it is better done as little as possible. Chaos ensues, even with my best intentions." Fingers tapped against the desk. "Professors fainting from the sheer academic brilliance, Remus disowning me out of frustration, you having to admit you're impressed." A low chuckle filled the otherwise quiet library. "No, better to stick to the practicals where possible." He smiled, leaning back and running a hand through his already mussed hair.

Mary arched an eyebrow, her lips twitching into an amused smirk as she watched James adopt his regal pose. “Osmosis, is it?” she repeated, her tone dripping with mock reverence. “I had no idea we were in the presence of such a pioneer of unorthodox study techniques. Truly, the textbooks will sing of your methods for generations, Potter.”

At his mention of the Flirting Glow Charm, Mary snorted softly, shaking her head. “You know, James, the fact that you know about a Flirting Glow Charm speaks volumes. Was that from one of those textbooks you so rarely grace with your attention, or are we venturing into your field research?”

Her grin widened as she watched him wink and lean back. “Breaks, you say? Of course. A cornerstone of brilliance. I’ll be sure to cite you in my footnotes. James Potter, Esq., Champion of Distraction and Master of Breaktaking. It has quite the scholarly ring to it, don’t you think?”

As he sprawled out on the table, Mary tapped her quill against her parchment in exaggerated thought. “Inspiration, hmm? Careful, Potter, too much exposure to true genius might overwhelm you. I wouldn’t want to be responsible for you feeling the sudden urge to actually pick up a quill. Might ruin your reputation.” She shot him a teasing smile, before turning back to her notes, though the humour still danced in her eyes.

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yeah but like. Hypothetically

[omgmarauders]

It was perhaps foolish of Regulus to believe that Hogsmeade would be quiet enough to read, especially on a Hogsmeade weekend. Nevertheless, he was dutifully giving it a go. From a bench tucked off to the side, outside an establishment that wasn't often frequented by the students, he listened. An argument was growing louder through the streets - the voices no doubt becoming closer to where he was. He wasn't sure what it was they were arguing about, trying to focus on the page in front of him. Although that was growing increasingly difficult. Just as he was about to give up and seek refuge elsewhere, he heard a familiar voice join in. Not quite in the way that the others anticipated, he imagined. Brianna's words brought his lips up into a smirk. He was pleased to see that he wasn't alone in his disdain for the illogical debate they'd been having. Closing his book, bookmark secured, Regulus looked up to the scene in front of him. There were two reasons for this: one, he wanted to see what retort the others had for Brianna's contribution, and two, he wanted to be sure things didn't go south. Honestly, the girl was braver than Regulus ever would be.

The crisp autumn air of Hogsmeade buzzed with the chatter of students, their laughter echoing through the village streets. She watched her fellow Slytherin's squabble over the merits of some new spell or potion recipe, shaking her head at their animated discussions. “Honestly, debates are stupid,” Brianna declared, not bothering to soften her voice even as nearby first years leaned in, curious. “Why would I want to sit down and argue with someone blatantly dumber than me? It’s like trying to teach a gnome to dance!”

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James had to fight back the laughter that pulled his lips into a smile, knowing if it made its way passed his lips, he'd lose his bargaining power with Moony. "Of course," he began when he'd effectively banished the urge, "your romantic coffee date with Enchantments for the Moderately Ambitious yesterday slipped my mind." He pulled his head back to get a better view of the muggle novel Remus was so enamoured by. "Does Enchantments know you're being unfaithful?" His lip curved into a smirk. "What's so alluring about this muggle book, anyway?" A brow raised, genuinely curious, since he wasn't able to glance the title of the thing. He was no purveyor of muggle fiction, although he had learned of its existence in muggle studies at some point. And he was certain he'd seen Lily carrying very non-wizard tomes throughout the years.

"That is an unfair comparison!" James protested. "Padfoot's bad ideas are always a good use of my time. And, if I recall correctly, you were invited. And thus, it was not neglect." He crossed his arms and a small nod punctuated the comment.

"I'll have you know I put a great amount of effort into entertaining myself. I just happen to enjoy company. Some people enjoy doing things with their bestest of best friends." He elbowed Remus in the side. "Besides, who would read a book about poor, old James Potter stuck inside on a bloody gorgeous day... when they could read: Moony and Prongs taking on the outdoors!" James exclaimed, though relented: "Okay, the title needs work - but that's why you're part of the story."

Upon Moony's agreement, James practically jumped off the bed, falling backwards to the floor and scrambling to get up before his friend even considered changing his mind. "Absolutely no quidditch... or wrestling. Yes, sir!" The dark-haired wizard saluted, smile plastered onto his face. Now the only conundrum was what they could do.

Seeing hesitation begin to cloud Remus' judgement, James grabbed him by the arm to tug him onto his feet. "Nope. You said yes - you have to expand your mind now." Admittedly, he didn't have a plan on what yet but he was sure it would come to him within the next 5 minutes. There were countless things they could do both on and off campus. "Besides, using the levitation charm on Sirius gave us some great new intel! It was absolutely benficial." He grinned. "Regardless of the... hitches."

James fished for his wand, which had gotten lost somewhere in his own bedsheets. He definitely needed to start leaving it in easily accessible places. But that was future James' problem. "Moony and Prongs take on the outdoors!" The wizard exclaimed, door bursting open as he did so. James, who hadn't bothered to remove his shoes when he entered the dorm the last time, hadn't even considered that Remus might need time to prepare. He looked back.

“First of all, it was Enchantments for the Moderately Ambitious, thank you very much, and I finished reading that yesterday— this, I'll have you know, is a muggle novel.” Remus retorted, shooting James a mock glare as he tucked the book tighter against his chest. ���And second—if you’re feeling neglected, you’ve got no one to blame but yourself. You’re the one who decided Sirius’ bad ideas were a better use of your time than keeping me company earlier.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyebrows arching as James’ pout morphed into full-blown theatrics. “Oh, the tragedy of poor, forsaken James Potter,” he said dryly, though the corner of his mouth twitched upward. “Trapped indoors while the world turns! Forced to entertain himself without resorting to actual effort. What a fate.”

Remus finally sighed, closing the book with exaggerated care and letting it rest on his lap. “Fine. Five minutes. But don’t think I’m going to chase you around the Quidditch pitch or wrestle with you like Padfoot. My day’s been peaceful, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

He glanced out the window, squinting at the perfectly blue sky, and then back at James, whose grin was somehow as bright as the sunlight outside. “Expand my mind in other ways,” Remus echoed, feigning thoughtfulness. “You mean like how you expanded it the last time you convinced me to come outside? I’m still recovering from the fallout of your ‘charming’ use of that levitation charm on Sirius.”

But he couldn’t quite keep the amusement out of his voice as he stood, leaving the book carefully on the chair. “Come on then, Potter. You’ve got five minutes to prove this isn’t a terrible idea.”

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A soft chuckle filled the space around them. He was, as it happened, quite confident in his ability to outrun the University's caretaker. Although, there were of course times where he did indeed fail on that endeavour. These days, though, they were few and far between. "I'm hoping for zero, if I'm honest." A cheeky smile graced his lips. "I can think of far better uses for my time than detention. They're awfully boring. It's like he's paid to come up with the most tedious tasks for us, and us alone." A brow rose at her comment. "Oh? Now that would make things more interesting." Part of him wished her comment was true. The idea of Filch following them around with a small compass that tracked their every move was intriguing to say the least. Good thing the only tracking device James was aware of on campus was their own little map.

About to reply with what was no doubt an incredibly witty reply, James found himself cut off by Lily's own voice again. Truthfully, James thought many things were good ideas. Whether those always came to fruition was another thing. Either way, he was glad Lily had come to the conclusion without his prompting. In fact, it sparked a hope inside of him that really didn't need the extra boost. "I thought I'd made it to the top of that list years ago. Are you telling me I'm not already on it, Evans?" James met her teasing with some of his own, feigning rejection with a laugh.

"I'm upset to hear that you have so little faith in my flying abilities." As the Gryffindor captain, who'd taken the team to victory more than once, James was more sure about his flying abilities than most other things. And, honestly, he was pretty sure about a lot of things. "Just hold tight," he said with a boyish grin. "I wouldn't want to be on the wrong end of your wrath, Evans."

Kicking off the ground, the two glided into the air. James ensured that he started slowly. If not for Lily's sake, but his own. Having her in this close proximity, he wasn't sure how long he'd make it before his brain short-circuited. Honestly, the lads would never believe this. Hearing the redhead's voice once again behind him, he turned back to smile at her. "As you wish." And with that, the broom sped vertically into the air. Soaring above the treetops into a spiral, James slowed when he deemed them high enough. The horizon was covered in a blanket of pink clouds, blue sky threatening to peak through and formally announce it morning.

James, sometimes you can be infuriatingly reckless, you know that? Lily thought, a small sigh escaping her lips as she looked up at the boy she both admired and wanted to scold in equal measure. She could hardly suppress the small smile tugging at her lips as she felt James’s hand in hers. His confidence and charm seemed to spill over like an overzealous potion, and despite herself, she found a thrill of excitement bubbling up inside her. "But don’t think for a second that I’m letting you off the hook this easily."

“Good at outrunning Filch, huh?” she repeated, arching an eyebrow as she took a step closer. “And just how many detentions do you think that’s going to earn you this time? You know he’s practically got a magical tracking device on you and your little bunch of misfits.”

The way he looked at her made her heart race—for a moment, her lecture about responsibility slipped her mind. “You really think this is a good idea?” She took a deep breath, looking up at him, the sunlight dancing in the treetops above them.

But as she stood there with her hand still in his, she felt that familiar pull of adventure beckoning. Maybe, just this once, she could let the rules slide and enjoy the moment. “Fine, but if you get us caught, you can consider yourself on my permanent lecture list,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she squeezed his hand.

“Now, if you can promise me we won’t crash and burn, then I suppose I’ll just have to trust you,” she added, stepping closer to the broom and preparing herself for take-off. “Just try not to scare me too much, Potter. Remember that I have a very sharp wand and I know how to use it.”

With a shared laugh, she climbed onto the broom behind him, her heart pounding faster than it ever had during one of her lectures. She could feel the warmth radiating from him, and as they took off into the air, the worries of the world melted away. Maybe this wasn’t such a terrible idea after all. “Ready when you are, oh great and mighty seeker.” She teased with a roll of her eyes, as if to hide how nervous she was.

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A large, leatherbound book sat in the young wizard's lap. The dark-haired man poured over it as though it might hold something secret within its pages. It was a tome he'd procured from the restricted section, on the premise of research for one of his classes. In reality, he'd been looking for answers to whispers he'd overheard in the Black household. Though, he was having no luck so far. Much less so when his usual quiet spot on campus was interrupted by the crunch of gravel. He looked up, book half-closing as he did so - his thumb remaining on the edge of the page to continue when he'd determined his peace wasn't about to be fully interrupted.

Regulus' eyes fell on the intruder. Lucien Yaxley. Grey eyes moved from the other wizard's face, falling on the foam discs on each side of his neck. Interesting. They looked less like something someone who ran in their circles would wear and more like something that his brother might've donned to spite their parents. Or, he supposed these days, Sirius would wear them just for... fun? Not knowing the function of them, and not daring to ask, Regulus simply nodded in acknowledgement and returned to his book.

Sure, he could have left. Knowing Lucien's disdain for him after... well, there was something to be said about avoiding conflict and awkward situations. And before, Regulus might have. But, these days, he absolutely knew the illusion of a backbone was as important as having one. Or perhaps he was a masochist and wanted the reminder of his failings. Lucien had every right to despise him, after all.

the halls were filled with quiet , save for the muffled sound of professors voices , coming from behind closed classroom doors . lucien walked , books in hand , through the hallway of the university . today , class wasn’t for him . having made the decision to not attend , and to instead find a quiet corner of the grand castle . a muggle device was neatly tucked in his pocket , a walkman , and headphones were stretched over his ears , with music , from the cassette , consuming his senses . the muggle world intrigued lucien , but the only time he had ever indulged in that curiosity , was in music . leaving the building , lucien then began the short journey to his safe haven . gravel crunched under foot and the brisk , winter , air nipped at his skin , making him pull his scarf just a little bit tighter . rounding the corner , dark eyes fell on the figure of another , then narrowed immediately . this place was his sanctuary , not theirs . what were they doing there ? jaw tensed , and lucien quickly clicked the side button on the walkman , pausing the music . pulling the headphones down , he then let them settle around his neck , piercing eyes focused on the other . he didn ’ t say a word .

[omgmarauders]

So… no personal space when you’re a marauder, huh.

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Regulus held his composure, straightening up when his brother stepped closer, instead of stepping away. His gaze briefly flickered away, before meeting Sirius', determined. "I said it's nothing." His jaw tightened, giving away his discomfort, but he otherwise remained still and calm. No one would suggest the younger Black was anything but calm. Perhaps to a fault. "You’re not my keeper, Sirius.” His voice was low and sharp. Sirius had made this fact quite clear years ago, and yet the sting of it lingered still.

Something bitter flashed briefly in his eyes, but he quickly masked it, turning his face away. “I don't need your knight in shining armour act, brother." He couldn't help the bitter note that lingered on that last word, so quickly added: "Save it for your friends.” He took in a breath, forcing himself to meet his brother's eyes again. Why did Sirius have to be so difficult? Why couldn't he just leave things well alone. He'd made his choice, leaving Regulus to flounder in his absence. And Reg had learned to swim just fine, despite the infested waters he found himself in. “Just... leave it alone. I don’t need your concern.” It was too late for whatever brotherly instinct was blooming in Sirius. The moment he'd stepped out of Grimmauld Place, he'd demonstrated just how much interest he had in taking that role.

But it was too much to ask for his brother to leave things well alone, wasn't it? "And then what?" Regulus was old enough and had been on his own long enough to figure out how to fight his own battles. Staying calm, staying detached, and never letting them in, no matter how close they got. That was how you won. Not whatever fanciful display Sirius would no doubt put on.

Sirius narrowed his eyes at Regulus, the familiar stirrings of irritation and concern battling within him. He took a cautious step closer, his voice lowering to a more genuine tone. “Nothing, really? You’re brushing off a state like this as nothing?” He gestured to the disheveled state of his brother’s robes. No matter the bad blood between them, at the end of the day he was still his brother and he hated the fact that there was some animosity between them and this wedge that had been driven between them since their childhood.

“What happened to you?” The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with the underlying worry that Sirius could never fully mask. “Forgive me for being dramatic, but have you seen yourself? You don’t get to just sweep this under the rug, Regulus. I won’t let you.”

Sirius clenched his jaw, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. It was always this way with Regulus; the stubbornness, the pride, the refusal to open up. “Which assholes and why? I want names Reg.”

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"I rather think it's unsporting to judge a man by his bedhead, Evans." James pointed out, though he was unable to mask the smile on his lips that somewhat gave away his true feelings on the matter. "Especially when said man is likely to be the only other soul awake at this hour. Besides, yourself of course." He relented, though he stood by the fact that it was still quite ridiculous she was up at this hour. He made a mental note to ask why should the moment arise. "Perhaps I have." He wiggled his brows, wondering what kind of things she might have been imagining. No doubt something much more ludicrous and sinister than he - or they, given the likelihood that any given marauder would also be involved - could accomplish.

Having been on the receiving end of many a lecture over the years - and many from Lily herself, James felt he might have been able to join in on her little speech. He managed to refrain and let her finish. "Yes, it's terribly irresponsible of me. And I'm incredibly lucky you turned up to reprimand me." The grin on his face wasn't quite what you'd expect after being on the receiving end of one of Lily Evans' lectures. However, James found himself miraculously impervious to them. Well, at least when they weren't too personal for comfort. Those he couldn't burn from his brain if he tried. This one didn't quite seem to have quite the same spice as usual, however. "And, of course, to ensure I don't put myself in grave danger flying without supervision."

James had been sure that the redhead would disagree. In fact, perhaps everyone in their year would have bet on her disagreeing to join him. But, she took his hand. She actually took his hand! For a moment, he forgot how to breathe. The touch sent a thrill through his body that apparently had short-circuited his brain and he hoped she didn't catch the absolute shock and complete awe he felt. He met her gaze. A vivid, mesmerising green looked back - like the first burst of spring after a barren winter. His smile softened for a moment and he nodded. "Alright," he repeated her word before catching up with himself.

“I’ll take full responsibility, Evans.” He promised, his voice quieter but no less confident. "I solemnly swear." Still holding her hand, he guided her onto the broom, lowering it for her. "Besides," he began, a mischievous grin of his own on his lips, "I’ve been known to be pretty good at outrunning Filch."

The young witch crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress the smile threatening to break free. "You really think bedhead is an appropriate style for anything?" she shot back, glancing at the tousled hair that seemed to crown his confidence. "It looks like you've been up all night plotting something ridiculous, James."

When he leaned closer, she couldn’t help but laugh softly, despite the sternness in her voice. "You know, I really should be the one nagging you about being responsible around here. You’re not supposed to fly this early without a proper plan—rules exist for a reason. And just because the view is nice doesn’t mean we should be up here like this."

But there was something undeniably tempting about the view he was offering — the sunrise spilling colours across the sky, and the thrill of actually joining him in breaking the rules for once. She chewed her lip, as she thought about his offer and sighed, pretending to weigh her options, but the corners of her lips were starting to twitch.

“Alright,” she relented, a mischievous glint in her eye at the thought of surprising him with her answer. “Just this once, let’s see what kind of trouble you can get me into.” She reached out for his hand, feeling a flutter of excitement beneath her irritation as she grasped the warmth of his palm. “But if Filch catches us, you’re the one explaining it. And I’ll be sure to remember that this ‘gorgeous sunrise’ was all your idea.”

[omgmarauders]

James grinned, large and proud. It was the kind of grin that could disarm or infuriate, depending on the other person. Although knowing the blonde before him, he anticipated the latter, but ever optimist, James thought today might just be the day she would surprise him. Still, he didn't shy away from a challenge, so he settled into what was now his seat with warmth. He wouldn't have joined Narcissa had he bothered to look (and would make a note to do so next time), but as it happened, he was willing to ride the wave today. And most others, if he was honest.

"Well, good morning to you too, Narcissa," he said brightly. The juxtaposition between their tones might've been jarring without context. "I see you've been working on that winning personality of yours. That's an E for Exceeds Expectations. Keep it up and you might just earn that O you've been vying for."

James' eyes moved to the book as she placed it, with purpose, on the table before them. Pulled away from it by her continued line of questioning, he peered up at her again. James wasn't sure whether he'd rather dodge her curses or her questions. But, ever the good sport, he plowed on ahead. "Oh, how well you know me. Let's say it's a happy helping of all three." He raised his brows a moment, his bright smile still plastered onto his lips. "Besides, you know you secretly live for these little interruptions of mine."

James leaned in again, eyeing the book. "So, what is it today? A gripping tale about the trials and triumphs of good, old-fashioned wizarding families? Or a thrilling essay on the remarkable allure of whatever shade of emerald you'll no doubt be wearing to Sluggie's Christmas Party?"

Narcissa’s eyes flicked up from her book, her gaze landing on James with precise recognition, though she let the silence linger just long enough to be uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke, her voice smooth and honeyed, with an edge like polished glass.

"James," she said, the single syllable carrying both familiarity and an unspoken reprimand. "I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. You’ve always had a way of… inserting yourself into situations uninvited."

She closed her book deliberately, the soft thud punctuating her words, and leaned back slightly, folding her hands neatly atop the table. A faint, sardonic smile played on her lips as she tilted her head, studying him.

"So, what is it today? Idle curiosity? A desperate bid to procrastinate? Or just the sheer audacity of thinking I might enjoy your company?"

[omgmarauders]

"Many wish to embody dedication as I do. Few actually achieve such heights." James straightened up, adopting an almost kingly posture as he spoke. "It's really quite the skill - the osmosis. I could teach it to you, but only some of us have the knack." He said, flashing a daring smile. "I'll have you know that I do occasionally read the textbooks - if I fancy it."

James nodded along as though enraptured by the subject. In truth, he'd long ago thought it unnecessary to write about the correct form when practicing magic - charms or not. Surely practical experience was the better method of testing such things. Nevertheless, it seemed that parchment did in fact grown on trees and their professors were absolutely going to use that as a way to torture them. "Important stuff, that. You know one wrong flick of the wrist and your Flirting Glow Charm can go devastatingly off course." He pointed at the notes. "Glad you're taking it so seriously."

"Oh, you can never have too many breaks, MacDonald. That's when the magic happens." He winked before sitting back in his chair again. "Consider that my sage advice." Running a hand through his hair, his gaze moved around the library for a moment, darting between bookshelves and across tables. He slid down onto the table, giving up whatever quest his eyes had been on, and rested his head on top of his hands. "Perhaps I'll sit and gain inspiration from what is no doubt a essay worthy of the next edition of A Charmed Mind: Essays of the Enchanted Arts."

Mary glanced up from her scattered papers, her lips curving into a wry smile. “Oh, James,” she said, her voice carrying a teasing lilt, “your dedication to academics is truly inspiring. If only we could all plop into chairs and absorb knowledge through sheer proximity to textbooks.”

She leaned back slightly, arms crossing over her chest as she regarded him with mock seriousness. “What is it, you ask? Well, if you must know, it’s an attempt at deciphering the unfathomable mystery that is Professor Flitwick’s latest assignment. Something about wand movements and their effects on nonverbal incantations.” She gestured vaguely at the jumble of notes before her, letting out a dramatic sigh.

Mary’s gaze flickered over him, noting the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “But enough about me and my noble struggles. What about you, Potter? Come to offer your wisdom, or are you just taking a break from terrorizing our peers and lecturers?”