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sweethingslast · 4 months ago

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Come Back, Be Here (finale)

Sirius Black x fem!reader - First Wizarding War Order of the Phoenix - 5.7k

p1 // p2 // p3 // p4 // p5 // p6 // p7 // p8

CW: mentions of past abuse/torture, amnesia, hurt/comfort, fluff, use of Y/N

A/N: Holy. Friggen. Crap. WHAT A RIDE! Thank you all so much for enjoying this story with me - it has truly felt like the most niche book club and I have had so much fun chatting with you all.

Lily and James Potter returned to 12 Grimmauld place on the 3rd of November – Sirius’ birthday. There were long hugs, a lot of tears and soft dinner conversation, but there would be no gifts or raucous celebrating.

Regulus Black was arrested at Malfoy Manor as a marked Death Eater, but with the backing of James, Sirius and Dumbledore, the Ministry allowed Regulus to be placed on house arrest, confiscating his wand whilst he awaited trial. Dumbledore assured the group that because of Regulus’ defection, his support of the Order, and the memories that Dumbledore, you, and those who were present on October 31st provided the Ministry, Regulus would likely be acquitted of his charges, or at the very least receive a lighter sentence.

Tom Riddle was quickly charged with treason, tyranny, countless charges of the use of unforgiveables, countless charges of leading or causing the death of wizards, witches, and muggles, countless charges of torture and brutality, eliciting fear and chaos, and illegal use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to the Dementor’s Kiss and the act was carried out on the 5th of November.

Peter Pettigrew did indeed receive a fair trial for his role in the Wizarding War. He was questioned under Veritaserum, and it was found that he was guilty of treason, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, the use of Dark Magic, and sexual assault and brutality. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Lucius Malfoy came looking for his son and was thus arrested by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement on the charge of being a marked Death Eater. He was questioned under Veritaserum which proved Lucius was guilty of harboring dangerous criminals, using unforgiveables, contributing to the fear and chaos of a treasonous leader, and the use of Dark Magic. He was sentenced to life in Azkaban. His property and vault at Gringott’s were seized by the Ministry and, after taking what was owed for reparations, was placed into his son’s name.

The Ministry respected Narcissa Malfoy’s dying wish and placed Draco Malfoy in the care of Sirius Black and Y/N L/N. The Ministry offered the couple access to the Malfoy vault to support Draco’s upbringing, but they opted to leave it aside for the child to choose what to do with the fortune when he was of age.

Narcissa Malfoy’s funeral took place on the 7th of November. The blustery November air accosted the patrons which mostly consisted of Order members and a few of Narcissa’s friends who were able to dodge persecution for their roles or complacency in the war. She was awarded an Order of Merlin posthumously for her role - a title she now shared with you, Sirius, James, Lily, Remus, and later Regulus along with the rest of the Order of the Phoenix. Draco left his mother a beautiful bouquet of narcissus, baby’s breath, lavender, and pink camelia’s. You and Sirius gave her a bouquet of edelweiss, fern, and gladioli. Blue hydrangeas and hyssops came from Regulus who was unable to attend due to the nature of his house arrest but were placed at Narcissa’s headstone by Lily and Harry in the family plot of Malfoy Manor. Andromeda, Ted and Nymphadora Tonks stood by you, Sirius, and Draco at the headstone during the funeral service as Dumbledore spoke of the bravery, loyalty, and dedication Narcissa showed not only to her son and her family, but to the greater wizarding world on the 31st of October.

“There is not one witch or wizard amongst us today that does not owe Narcissa Black Malfoy a considerable debt. Without her bravery and cunningness, evil could very well have prospered, dooming us all to life of immense pain and suffering. She dreamed of a legacy - of a better future - for her own son as well as for every child of wizard kind. Narcissa was a beyond bright student during her time at Hogwarts, a strong leader in her social circle, a skilled healer during the war, and an incredibly brave soldier. Though, possibly her favourite and certainly her greatest role was that of a loving mother; for she died to ensure that her son would live to see a better tomorrow. Narcissa Black Malfoy is the type of person, friend, partner, and parent that each of us should aspire to be. May her legacy of love and loyalty live eternally.” He said as he raised his wand.

One by one, every person present raised their wand to the heavens in honour of Narcissa Malfoy and her sacrifice to the wizarding world. Draco, Harry and Nymphadora, along with the Weasley children and Neville Longbottom who did not yet have their own wands raised a narcissus flower in solidarity.

The remaining marauders, you, Lily, and Regulus did indeed stay at 12 Grimmauld place for some time. The house was unrecognizable from the time Regulus and Sirius spent growing up there; it was bright, it was colourful, it was full of children’s laughter and squealing, it was a place people liked to come to visit, and it was chock full of love.

The problem with the new and improved Grimmauld Place?

Your tribe quickly outgrew it.

As time went on, your memories seemed to return to you basically in full, and the full extent of your trauma reared its ugly head. For years you became hyper-focused on knowing where each member of your family was at any given moment, and a panic attack threatened any moment you didn’t have everyone important to you within your periphery. The Third Worst Day™ of Sirius’ life (in chronological order, the first being the day he almost ruined things between you two, the next being the day you ‘died’) was the day Lily and James suggested to you, him, Remus, and Regulus that they should perhaps fix up Potter Manor and move their ever-growing family there. It was partly the worst day because of how the idea of James and Lily moving away made him feel, but it was mostly because of the mental breakdown you had at the news.

“You can’t! You can’t do this! I just got you back, we just got each other back. You can’t do this!” You shouted as everyone tried to get you to breathe. The numerous hands approaching you placatingly was in fact not what you needed at the moment, and you fell into a manic state.

Needless to say, the suggestion was not met well by you, and ended with you being admitted to the psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s. Sirius sat at your bedside with your hand in his, Lily and James in chairs across from him whilst Regulus and Remus stayed home and watched the children.

“I cannot live without any of you anymore. I’m sorry, but I refuse. I can’t do it.” Sirius admitted quietly to his friends as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.

You had been dosed heavily with calming draught and dreamless sleep in order to prevent any seizure activity, which you became plagued with due to the trauma of the brain from memory retention and prevention throughout the war.

“I can’t either.” James admitted, causing Lily to turn and face him.

“I’m sorry Lil’s, I know-” he cut himself off to take a steadying breath. “I know when we got married, you probably imagined us living at the Manor or maybe in another place as independent adults. After we lost mum and dad, I’m sure you imagined us taking that over in their place, and I think I wanted that too, but now, knowing what we know, I would have done things differently. I wish we had moved in with mum and dad and been there to enjoy their last few years with them. We had our own flat at the time and Moony, Pads, and Vix had theirs and I was so lucky that I got to spend as much time with Vixen as I did, being her order partner and all, but then she was gone, and I regretted ever spending a single moment away from her. Now...now I’m afraid that every second I don’t spend with you – all of you, any of you, my family – is a second wasted and I don’t want to waste another precious second. Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Lily looked imploringly at her husband.

“You really are a bell-end.” She muttered fondly.

“Pardon me?”

“Do you really think I imagined us living alone in that big ass manor just us and our kids? What part of that do you think appeals to me? I love you, James, but a girl needs backup to deal with the likes of you.”

Sirius and James exchanged a bemused glance before Lily continued.

“I want to live the rest of my life with my family. That’s you, James, and our kids, but it’s also Sirius and Y/N, it’s Remus and Regulus and Draco. Hell, if Alice and Frank or Marlene and Dorcas told me they wanted to move in I’d happily help them pack the boxes.” She laughed as she looked at you and Sirius’ intertwined hands.

“I think we’re all going to be stuck with one another until the end of time.” James said as he pulled his wife into his side.

Sirius smiled greatly at them. “Until all the mischief is managed.”

After that, the friends all agreed that none of them were willing to part from the group, and if for whatever reason anyone felt the need for more privacy, they would opt to build an outbuilding on the property.

“Oi! You’ve gotta knock, Prongs! Fuckin’ wanker.” Sirius had shouted as he hastily pulled the sheets up around the two of you.

“Uhm, maybe you’ve gotta lock the door, Pads.” James muttered with a mouthful of muffin as he came in to sit on the edge of the bed, completely unperturbed by the fact that the two of you were still naked and very recently involved in unmentionable deeds.

Nevertheless, no one ever felt the need to build their own place on the property.

And Sirius made sure James got a taste of his own medicine a time or two after that incident.

Lily Evans Potter did indeed contact Healer Grundke at the end of the war and was brought on to work under her as an intern whilst she worked toward getting her Healer license. She spent many years in general medicine before moving fulltime to labour and delivery. Sirius often teased her that between the number of days she has spent in labour & delivery as a patient and as a doctor, he was surprised any of their other friends ever saw her.

His nose was charmed green for a week.

Regulus Black was eventually acquitted of his crimes. He was placed on a sort of life-long probation in the form of a tracking spell on his wand that would alert the Ministry of him ever practicing Dark Magic. He opted to stay with his brother and his friends though he pretended to hate every minute of it. In truth, Regulus found great joy in being an uncle to Sirius’ and James’ children and Godfather to his best friend’s daughter Luna Lovegood. He declined the opportunity to join the Wizengamot, stating that as the rightful heir to the Black name, Sirius should be the one to take the Black’s seat.

Sirius Black, in Sirius Black fashion, dramatically refuted this idea. He did not want to pick up the mantle that was laid for him by the generations of Black’s before him; he refused to sit in the nearly still warm seat that his father had left. It took Regulus, Remus, and Lily all to tell him how much good he could do by not only bringing in a younger generation’s perspective to the Wizengamot, but as a wealthy heir to a pureblood line, a war hero, and an advocate for werewolf and muggleborn rights, he could bridge the gap between the left and right-wing members of the court.

It also helped that you had told him he’d be the only one capable of making the robes look punk rock.

James Potter opted to be a stay-at-home dad and uncle to care for the children living at Potter Manor. The Potter vaults had enough money in them to last his family multiple lifetimes without every making a dent, and with the money Lily was making as a healer, there was no need to be worried financially. Also, being a kid at heart made him the absolute best friend of any child who met him. As the children grew older, he and Mrs. Weasley worked together to homeschool the children of the Order until they were old enough to attend Hogwarts.

Remus Lupin, never one willing to ride on his friend’s coat tails, spent the first few months following the war applying to various jobs through out Wizarding London. He had hoped that between his stellar academic record, his time spent as a prefect and tutor, his Order of Merlin, and his dedication to the winning side of the Wizarding War, that he would be able to secure a job within wizarding society. Unfortunately, it seemed the wizarding world still had a long way to go with the prejudice it held for werewolves. Walking through Diagon Alley feeling sorry for himself, Remus spotted a “for lease” sign in the window of what used to be a pet store. He immediately sent an owl to the landlord and asked for a meeting.

Though Remus tried to refuse, Sirius and James insisted on investing in Remus’ planned bookstore.

“I’m not borrowing money, Prongs.” Remus muttered defiantly.

“It’s not borrowing, Moons! It’s an investment! If anything, you’ll be making me more money.” He exclaimed excitedly.

“Moony, please,” Sirius added...well, seriously, “think of how pissed off my ancestors would be to know I’m investing their money in a half-blood werewolf’s business which happens to stock muggle literature?”

With a mischievous smirk, the deal was settled, and the lease was signed.

Remus wasted no time to get started at the bookstore. He walked into the small storefront and conjured a broom, deciding to start by sweeping up the hay and owl droppings.

No sooner had he started did he hear the door chime.

“Oh! My apologies, we’re not quite open yet.” Remus offered as he made his way to the door. He stopped in his tracks when he saw you and Regulus standing in the entry.

“I should hope not. This place looks awful.” Regulus commented with a wrinkled nose.

You elbowed him hard in the ribs.

“Looks like you could use some help.” You said cheerily as you held out a stack of papers. Remus took them gently to find your CV and cover letter. Before Remus could even look up, Regulus dropped his on top of yours in Remus’ hand.

“All my references are either dead or in prison so.” He offered with a shrug.

“I’ll vouch for him.” You said.

You were smiling at him so kindly and so sweetly, Remus wanted to cry. You had always been his biggest supporter; championing him through every milestone in Remus’ life. He was certain he didn’t deserve even half of the love you gave him, but he was eternally grateful for every drop of it.

“Thank you, guys.” Remus said wetly as he pulled the two of you in for a hug. Regulus groaned the entire time but when Remus finally pulled away, he had a slight blush.

“Yeah, yeah. Well, what is family for?” He muttered which elicited a sharp gasp from you and a bark of laugh from Remus.

“Don’t be going soft on us now, Black!” Remus said with a laugh and ruffled his hair.

“Fuck you guys, clean this barn up on your own.” He grumbled as he turned to leave, but the two of you wouldn’t let him.

He was grateful that you didn’t.

Sirius eventually proposed to you – though beg was likely a more appropriate definition.

“We should get married.” He had said to you late one night as he came back to the bedroom after putting Draco down.

You lowered your book into your lap as you considered him. “I beg your pardon?”

“We should get married.” He repeated plainly.

Your lip threatened to quirk into a smirk, but you kept your face blank. “And why should we get married?”

Sirius guffawed at you. “Uhm, maybe because we’re in love? And I’m the best and would be the best husband?”

You continued to stare at him.

“Why shouldn’t we get married?” He asked, now beginning to panic.

“I never said we shouldn’t.”

“Then why won’t you marry me?” He shrilled as he moved to kneel at the end of the bed.

“You’re the first thought in my mind when I wake up in the morning and my last thought at night before I fall asleep. Fuck, you make up the majority of my dreams too. Did you know that? Did you know that I go to the Ministry and count down the minutes until I get to see you again? Did you know that when you’re at work, I spend my time thinking about what you’re doing, who you’re talking to, what they’re saying to you and you to them? And not in a stalkery way, I swear. But I just think you’re the coolest fucking person ever and I’m jealous of everyone who gets to listen to you speak when I’m stuck at home or at work. And I watch you with Draco -our sweet boy - and our Godson and the other children and I get fucking giddy thinking that I get to spend the rest of my days with a woman so lovely. So, marry me. Marry me, damnit!”

It was a battle to keep your face straight but by the absolute grace of God you did before saying “Siri, babe, you’re coming off a little desperate.”

There was a brief pause before you got a “you cheeky little minx” and 45 seconds of tickling which turned into kissing which turned into touching which turned into so much more.

You were sticky and satisfied as you both caught your breath, still intertwined with one another when you said, “I will.”

“Hm?”

“I will.” You repeated as you leaned onto your elbow so you could look him in the eyes. “I’ll marry you. Marry me.”

Sirius stared at you in awe before pulling you down into his embrace for a searing kiss which once again turned into so much more.

And you guys did. Marry each other, that is. It was a beautiful spring day on the grounds of Potter Manor with only your closest family and friends. It was perhaps a touch smaller than what either you or Sirius grew up picturing your wedding to be, but it was so much better than either of you could have ever imagined.

“...I thank my lucky stars every day that I get to love such a wonderful woman. There’s not one person in this world who deserves to know the likes of you, me least of all, but will do everything I can to ensure I get to keep what little light you’re willing to share with me forever. I have already loved you in sickness and in health, for rich or for poor, and in life and in death. There is not one planet in any universe, nor a timeline that exists where my love for you does not. I vow to you that you will never spend a day in this life not being loved by me. Wherever you go, I go; in this life and the next.” Sirius said through his tears.

With a smile you began your own vows. “Sirius, I have had the absolute pleasure of getting to witness you become the man you are today. It wasn’t always easy or pretty, but I have seen you through it all; the good, the bad, the really bad, and the ugly. And I have loved you through all of it. As I laid dying, I told James that I didn’t regret a single moment of this life with you, and that is still true today. Every moment, all the blood, sweat, and tears, brought us here today - and I would still do all of it again if it meant getting to stand here today by your side. I made a vow that I would find you in our next life and I would love you there too. Well, here I am. I found you. I will always find you.”

Lily, Marlene, and Alice stood by your side, and James, Remus, and Regulus stood by Sirius’ as your magic was bound together, and you were pronounced husband and wife.

Sirius hung the framed parchment that Remus had found in the wooded area where he first met Regulus in his office. The note symbolized your dedication to him, to your friends and family, and your unyielding perseverance. The parchment was later joined by your wedding pictures, drawings that he and Harry had painted back in Grimmauld place as well as pictures Harry and Draco had given him since, and the first ever check he received for his investment in A Marauder’s Map to Books.

You loved working at Moony’s bookstore; everyday felt like getting to hang out with your best friends even though you pretty much lived with them as well. It was nice to see Remus and Regulus in a setting outside of the parental/guardian role you’d all taken on following the war. You were surprised at first (though you supposed you should have known better) that Remus and Regulus worked really well together – Regulus’ uptight and serious façade was well balanced with Remus’ laidback and jovial personality. Regulus would handle the more difficult customers whilst Remus made sure every customer who came in felt welcome. Things often fell by the wayside or got overlooked when Remus was away due to the moons, and Regulus was quick to pick up the slack. Regulus would often get too caught up in work and forget to stay fed or hydrated, which Remus counteracted by briskly walking past Regulus and placing biscuits and cups of tea brewed exactly to Regulus’ liking before he could refuse. If you noticed Regulus’ cheeks tinge peak and a shy smile grace his lips – you didn’t mention it.

Draco grew to be a very happy child; you and Sirius couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride every time that boy giggled or laughed. You kept your word and left the Malfoy vaults untouched save twice a year when Narcissa would purchase a gift for Draco on June 5th and December 25th.

He was such a good son and an even better big brother.

Draco was the most jealous of Harry when Harry became a big brother to his sister Jasmine Potter. It was hard not to chuckle at how proud the four-and-a-half-year-old was as he bragged about being the ‘bestest big brother’ and watching Draco skulk around the house.

“I could be a big brother! Really, I could. I’d be so nice and gentle, and I would share all my toys!” He told you and Sirius solemnly as you tucked him in to bed. You assured him he would indeed be a wonderful big brother, but not to worry about it too much as you were sure Lily and James could use two big brothers for their newest addition.

You both gave him kisses goodnight and closed the door behind you. You’d hardly made it two steps from the door before your husband had you pushed up against the wall.

“I could be a really good daddy too, you know?” He whispered into your neck before starting to suck on your pulse point.

You couldn’t stifle the moan that escaped your lips. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

Sirius kissed his way back up your jaw before slotting his lips against yours. “Perhaps we should give the kid what he wants.” He managed between kisses.

You chuckled.

“He gets everything he wants already, Siri.” You whispered back as you pulled his body flush with yours.

“What about me, hm?”

You pulled your head back to search his face. “Do you want another baby, Sirius?”

Sirius’ pupils seemed to blow wide at the sentiment. “I don’t so much want a baby as I want your baby, my love.” He whispered reverently.

Your restraint snapped and you launched yourself at him. He caught you as your legs wrapped around his waist and your arms around his neck, carrying you down the hall to your bedroom.

Approximately ten months later you gave birth to your daughter Aurora Black.

September 1st, Kings Cross Station

“Merlin’s saggy balls, how do you – for fuck sa– oh, got it!” Sirius could be heard behind you as he fought with the pram.

“Would you watch your mouth?” Lily muttered.

“Yeah Pads, watch your fuckin’ mouth!” James loudly announced causing other parents to look over at the absolute freak show that was the Potter & Black family’s stepping onto Platform 9 ¾.

“Sorry.” You offered with a quiet smile to a particularly perturbed looking couple as they grabbed their smarmy looking child and ushered him away from the likes of you. “Wankers.” You muttered as they hobbled off.

“Who’s a wanker, mum?” Draco asked as he slid up beside you. The rotten child knew he wasn’t supposed to use such language but couldn’t pass the chance at getting to repeat your nasty comment.

“Presently, it’s you.” You commented while teasingly narrowing your eyes at him.

“Oi, leave your poor mum alone! You’re buggering off to Hogwarts and leaving her with the likes of me for the next ten months.” Sirius said as he (finally) made his way to you with the pram in tow. The three-year-old twins seemed none the wiser that they just nearly got folded into the damned thing and thrown onto the tracks in a fit of rage.

“My deepest condolences during this trying time.” Draco offered you severely.

Sirius scoffed and you laughed as you pulled him into an embrace. You were waiting for the day he pushed you away because hugging your mom goodbye in front of your friends was embarrassing. But today, you relished in the feeling of your first child letting you hold him tight.

“I’m so proud of you, Draco.” You murmured into his platinum hair.

“Thank you, mum.” He responded quietly.

“Draco! Harry! Over here!” The sound of Hermione Granger interrupted your hug as Draco turned to wave at his friends.

“Be good kid, okay? Look out for your sister?” Sirius asked as he pulled Draco into his own embrace.

“’Course, dad. I’m not new here.” He teased as he ruffled Aurora’s hair.

“Draaaccoooo...” She whined in response.

“Go see ‘Mione.” You ordered Draco with one last side hug. Harry and Draco swapped parents and siblings to give their respective goodbyes before heading off to catch up with their friends.

“Are you ready, Rory?” Jasmine Potter asked your daughter kindly. She was a year above Aurora and was very excited to get the chance to show her younger cousin around the castle.

Your daughter looked between her cousin and her parents before Sirius spoke up. “Jazz, do you mind giving us a minute?” He asked his Goddaughter.

Jasmine turned to talk to James and Lily who were busy entertaining Posie and Lyra as you and Sirius bent down to talk to Aurora.

“What’s on your mind, love?” You asked your daughter gently.

Your heart welled as Aurora’s eyes turned glassy.

“I’m not ready.”

Sirius made a cooing sound as he wiped the tears from under her lash line. “What are you most worried about, my little star?”

Aurora sniffled miserably. “What if I’m sorted into the wrong house?”

You and Sirius couldn’t help but rear your head at the comment. Out of all the things you thought would be worrying your daughter on her first day of boarding school, which house she got sorted into was not it.

“Rory, that’s the exciting part baby.” You tried as you rubbed her arm consolingly.

“I get it, Ro, I was worried about which house I was going to be sorted into as well.” Sirius commented.

Aurora rubbed a fist against her eye as she turned to consider her father. “Really?”

Sirius nodded solemnly. “Really. You see, I came from a long line of proud Slytherins. I was supposed to get sorted into that house too, because I was supposed to be just like them. But I couldn’t be like them, I could only be like me. So, I was sorted in Gryffindor, even though my family didn’t like it.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

Sirius nodded sadly. “I did.”

“But Ro, you know that no matter what house you get sorted into, me and daddy are going to be so, so, so proud of you. And we’ll be proud of you because you’re you, not because you were sorted into Ravenclaw or Gryffindor or Hufflepuff or Slytherin.” You added with a soft smile.

Aurora seemed to consider this. “Well, Harry and Jazzy are in Gryffindor, and Draco is in Slytherin. I’d like to be in one of those I think.”

You nodded at her, but it was Sirius who answered.

“That’d be pretty cool, huh? But listen, I met the most fantastic people in my house even though I knew no one in it when I first got sorted. Uncle Prongs and Uncle Moony were my dormmates for seven years and look at us now! Completely co-dependent and still living together.”

“What is co-dependent?” Aurora asked with furrowed brows.

“Not important. What I’m trying to say is, Rory, you are going to give that hat a run for its money, you know why?” Sirius asked.

Aurora shook her head.

“Because you are your mother’s daughter. And she is the the most loyal, the most cunning, the bravest and the smartest person I know. You’ve been raised by the most spectacular person, and any one of those houses will be lucky to have you. Got it?”

You watched as Rory took a deep breath and squared her shoulders before offering her dad a solid nod.

“Atta girl!” He said as he enveloped her in a hug and kissed her head. “You show that sorting hat who’s boss.”

Aurora chuckled as she moved to hug you.

“I’m so proud of you, my love.” You said into her hair. She tightened her hold on you before letting go and stepping back.

“I think we’re ready for you, Jazzy.” You called, and the older girl came and took Aurora’s hand as they headed towards Draco and Harry to board the train.

James and Sirius wolf whistled and hollered, waving frantically as they watched the kids walk away. Hermione, Harry and Draco chuckled while Neville and Ron turned beat red at the attention.

You propped Lyra on your hip and the two of you continued to wave as the train pulled away. None of you stopped waving until you couldn’t see your babies anymore.

A sob tore its way through James, and you looked over to see Lily making alarmed eye contact with you as she awkwardly patted his arm and he and Sirius leaned into each other.

“First time?” An older woman asked as she went to walk past you.

“No” was yours and Lily’s chorused response as you peeled your husband away from his best mate and moved him toward the pram where your youngest two sat forgotten.

“Lord, is it going to be this bad every time we send one of the kids off the first time?”

“It’ll be worse!” Sirius cried emphatically as he fell into your arms, basically crushing poor Lyra who was still sat on your hip. You looked over to Lily hoping for help only to see her in a similar predicament.

“Sirius Black, at this rate our youngest three won’t ever want to come back to Kings Cross Station.” You muttered as you moved Lyra to your other hip so you could support your husband’s weight.

“Good! Then they’ll never leave me!”

Your heart twinged as you patted Sirius’ back.

“Siri, look at me.”

For a moment you thought he might refuse, but he unfolded himself slowly and stood to look at you.

“This is what we fought for, my love.” You said as you caressed his cheek. “So that our babies could go to Hogwarts and learn and be children and be free and be safe.”

“I still hate it.”

You laughed at his petulance. “Me too, actually. Do you think Hogwarts is hiring? What if we all just move there?”

“Great idea, Vix!” James cheered from beside you, eyes rimmed and cheeks glistening. “Lily flower could work in the infirmary, Padfoot could teach astronomy, you could teach muggle studies, I could teach flying, Moony could teach defence against the dark arts and Regulus could teach potions! It’s perfect!”

Though you had to admit this plan of James’ actually sounded pretty perfect, your attention turned to little Posie falling asleep in Lily’s arms.

“Why don’t we discuss this more once we get these kiddos down for a nap, hm?”

Sirius found you later sitting in the sunroom with a book in hand. He thought you made the prettiest picture sitting in the soft sun filtering through the leaves of the trees outside, plants surrounding you with your nose buried in a book. So, he took a picture.

“I wasn’t ready!” You whined with a smile on your face.

“You’re always ready.” He said as he pressed a kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I was such a mess at the train station today.” He said as he lifted your legs off the loveseat to sit down and replace them atop his lap.

“You don’t have to apologize, Siri.” You said as you tapped him with your book.

“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you.” He commented, his gaze seemed far away as he watched the branches dance in the September breeze.

“You can do that tomorrow.” You whispered back.

A smile graced his face before he turned to look at you. “I love you; did you know? I don’t think I say it enough, but I do; I love you.”

He punctuated his sentence with three loving squeezes of the fat of your thigh.

“Sirius. Every breath I take means ‘I love you’.” You responded and sealed it with a kiss.

You got an owl from Draco and Aurora later that night.

Aurora was a hat stall.

She was also sorted into the same house as her mum.

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sweethingslast · 4 months ago

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mouth of september (platonic!marauders x reader)

“Who was it, anyhow?”

“A hufflepuff - Y/N Y/L/N,” Remus supplied.

Lily settled into the back of her chair, frowning. “Why’d you never choose to bully tossers?”

“We did,” Sirius said. “You weren’t fond of that either.”

summary: you make friends with the marauders

word count: 7.5k

read part two here

tags: platonic reader x marauders, reader has suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation, platonic friendship (for now), fem reader, she/her pronounce used for reader, angst, will be hurt/comfort (note: marauders = james, sirius and remus, peter isn’t mentioned + no voldemort au)

The summer before your seventh year of Hogwarts you spent trying to erase yourself. Never brave enough to kill yourself, or maybe brave enough not to, you spent your days with a weight in your stomach that wouldn’t dissipate. You knew you should’ve been studying material for NEWTs. You didn’t bother, having convinced yourself that by the time you went back you’d be dead.

Still, you never did end your life. So now you were entering the school year with no friends, no motivation, and no knowledge of the year's curriculum.

The same thing went for relationships. Your friends, of which you had a handful, barely heard a word from you all summer. You convinced yourself that by cutting contact with them it would hurt less, should you kill yourself.

You made sure to hide away any upset, any misalignment of mood. You were a Hufflepuff through and through - cheery disposition, overly friendly, a ray of sunshine.

This was blatantly obvious to your teachers. Professor Sprout scolded you to no end, begging you to take things seriously. The thing was, your sunny attitude prevented her from seeing the real problem, chalking your unpreparedness as laziness.

You smiled at jilted friends, you smiled at angry teachers, and you always smiled at the marauders, even when you wanted to cry. They pulled jokes on most everybody, though that excluded Remus. He usually watched in annoyance, reprimanding his friends.

You strolled down the corridor with a smile plastered on your face. You’d read somewhere that people looked their most attractive when they were smiling. You felt like you needed all the help you could get. Plus, you didn’t need any more frown lines.

The day was brisk, still fresh in the new school year. September sunlight smattered the walls in fragments. You were worrying about the potions essay Slughorn had assigned two days ago, as you felt you had a minimal to zero chance of understanding the material and finishing the assigned work. Your train of thought was interrupted when suddenly your foot stepped into a puddle that wouldn’t let you go.

You almost toppled over, balance thrown. There was a dark, greasy puddle surrounding your shoe. It was inching slowly up the sole and over the toe. Panicked, you pulled your foot out. Stumbling away with one shoe missing. You almost fell a second time from the force of it.

You watched, distressed, as the puddle ate your shoe. It climbed over the edges like a slime, filling the space where your foot had been moments ago until it was completely covered. You pointed your wand at the shoe-shaped goo, unsure of what to do.

Panicked tears gathered at the corners of your eyes, breaking free in hot little rivulets that bisected tracks down your make-up. “Oh no,” you said uselessly.

You were thankful at least that the corridor was empty of anybody to watch you descend into a tizzy. It was an overreaction, really. Shoes got ruined. But it was a lot, another stress added to the growing pile of things that upset you.

You watched the goo flatten in horror as it digested your shoe. You let your wand hand drop to the ground, sniffling, not sure what to do. You covered your eyes with a single hand and took a deep breath. This was fine - a little uncontained magic that you’d had the misfortune of crossing first.

You pulled your bag higher up on your shoulder where it was slipping. You brought your foot up with the remaining shoe to lean over and take it off. Your tights felt slippery on the ground. You sniffed again, reluctantly leaving behind the puddle of ravenous goo to walk back to the common room, shoe in hand.

From behind an alcove, the marauders emerged.

The three of them looked sick. Sirius was grimacing, quick to send a scourgifying charm at the puddle.

Remus rubbed a hand across his face. “This is why I tell you not to do these things.”

“Mate, how could we know she was going to cry?” James asked, though he sounded remorseful.

“Isn’t that what girls usually do when you destroy their things?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, but Y/L/N? She’s a good sport, usually.”

“I’d hardly call her a bad sport for being upset over her shoes.”

Sirius put his hand up. “It wasn’t supposed to eat her shoe.”

“We’re lucky it didn’t eat her leg! What was that?”

James scrunched up his nose. “The book said it would get her a bit stuck.”

Remus knew exactly where this was going. “And where did you find the book, James?”

He said something quietly.

“What was that?”

“The restricted section,” he admitted dejectedly.

Remus looked up at the ceiling and begged Godric to forgive them.

Sirius was less morose, though he did seem appropriately regretful. “Look, we’ll get her some new shoes. Problem solved.”

“And an apology.”

“Yes, Moony. We’ll apologise.”

“Now why would you, three teenage boys, need a pair of women’s school shoes?” Lily asked, not bothering to look away from her parchment.

James shifted from foot to foot, weary of his girlfriends scorn. “That’s a funny story…”

“Is it?” she asked, looking pointedly at Remus.

Remus was sitting on the floor close to the fireplace.

“No.”

Sirius sighed, stretching out on the common room sofa like a cat. “We had an unfortunate mishap.”

“Don’t you always?”

“Yes, well, this one was more unfortunate than others have been in the past.”

Lily gave up on her essay, her quill ceasing it’s scratching. “So what? You’ve ruined some poor girl's shoes and finally grown a conscience?”

“I have a conscience,” James said, taking Lily’s discarded quill into his hand to rub the feather up her wrist. She let him - reluctantly.

“They don’t usually cry,” Sirius said, thinking back to how you’d seemed so upset. It had the horrible worm of guilt digging into his stomach again.

“You can’t just buy a random pair of shoes, either way. You need to know her size.”

“That's why we want your help, Lily-kins.”

“You find out her size, we buy the shoes, everything’s right in the world.”

Lily sighed again, this time looking apologetic. “Boys, I don’t know everybody’s shoe size. Who was it, anyhow?”

“A hufflepuff - Y/N Y/L/N,” Remus supplied.

Lily settled into the back of her chair, frowning. “Why’d you never choose to bully tossers?”

“We did,” Sirius said. “You weren’t fond of that either.”

Remus butted in before an awkward argument could ensue. “We’ll just have to ask her if we can replace them.”

“That might be awkward. ‘Sorry we made a goop that ate your shoe and made you cry - which we saw, and then let you walk off crying without actually comforting you,’” Sirius said.

Lily scowled. “You didn’t even speak to her?”

“It was a moment of panic!” James said, pushing his face into Lily’s shoulder. “I feel terrible.”

“Me too,” Remus said.

“Me too,” Sirius echoed.

There was a period of silence.

Lily put her hand in James’ hair. “Look,” she started, tone soft. “She was probably just having a bad day. I’m sure she doesn’t even care about the shoes.

“Just one shoe,” James amended, voice muffled in Lily’s robes.

“Does Y/N have bad days? She’s a Hufflepuff stereotype if I ever met one,” Sirius asked.

Lily shrugged. “Sometimes people hide what they’re feeling.”

It was a miserable day the next day. You wore your quidditch shoes to class, hoping that nobody would notice.

They were brown. People noticed. You smiled anyways, letting them laugh at you without batting an eye, even when it bordered on cruelty. And it always bordered on cruelty - people loved joking about the stuff that wasn’t happening to them. The relief that the joke wasn’t on them was palpable

You’d quite had enough of laughing at peoples shitty jokes, deciding to skip dinner altogether if only to escape it, figuring that an aching stomach was worth having some peace and quiet. You knew people didn’t mean to hurt you, they were only having a laugh that you encouraged. But still, you’d rather not endure it.

The brown of your shoes caught your eye with every step you took up the moving staircases until you were sequestered away in the back of the library with a book. Hogwarts’ library had its own small array of fiction, including cheesy romance. You cracked one open, despite feeling like it was the opposite of what you wanted to do. You wished you were at home where you could sit in your bathroom, alone, listening to the wireless and the sound of the shower running.

You’d just gotten to a section where the love interest was straddling his wand that had no magical qualities about it when somebody sat across from you.

You smiled before you’d even seen who it was, feeling it become mangled and awkward.

“Hello,” Remus Lupin said.

He was tidy, soft looking, his face handsome and inviting. Inching towards apologetic. You put a finger between the page you were on and the next, letting it shut on itself.

“Hiya,” you said, word riddled with false cheer. “You okay?”

He seemed put off by your question. You stalled, wondering what social misstep you’d taken.

“Good, thanks,” he answered eventually. “You?”

“I’m brilliant,” you said, smiling wide. “Yeah, brill.”

“I wanted to ask you something - and tell you something.”

You grinned, thinking, what the fuck is he going to tell me?

“Ask away.”

“Right, well. I’m really sorry, but yesterday we - well, Sirius and James, I mostly just watched - had this little mishap in the hallway by the charms classrooms with a violent puddle, and we noticed today that you’re missing your shoes. And so really, we just worried you might be in need of a new pair?”

So it was the marauders who’d been pulling a prank on you! You laughed, feeling awkward. “You noticed the shoes, huh? They’re my own fault, I swear. I - lost my others.”

Remus clearly didn’t believe you and was too polite to say otherwise. “Oh, right.”

“Yeah, couldn't keep my head on straight if it were up to just me.”

You couldn’t explain why you did it, why self-deprecation came to you before anything else. Why you lied. Maybe you were afraid of a second joke being played on you.

“You uh, don’t mind if I sit with you for a bit? I have homework.”

“Sit with me as long as you’d like,” you said. You didn’t have to use any false cheer this time. It would be nice to have company.

You opened up your terrible novel again, finding yourself unable to read more than a paragraph before your eyes flitted up to his hands, his quill scratching lines in parchment.

“Who’s it for?” you asked.

“What?”

“The homework.”

“Oh, for Slughorn.”

You smiled ruefully. “Have you found it difficult? I’m no good at potions.”

He leaned his elbow on his potions textbook, voice quiet to match the silence of the library. “It’s okay. Have you done it?”

“I’m hoping it will do itself.”

“You want help?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to. I’m not sure Damocles Belby himself could help me understand.”

“Come sit by me,” he said.

It wasn’t a command. A simple offer, encouraging and gentle and with a smidge of humour behind it like it was the easiest thing in the world. You hesitated anyway.

“Come on.” He cleared enough space on his desk for your things. You obliged him.

Remus was a brilliant teacher - patient, forgiving. He didn’t care how many times you got something wrong or how often you crossed out your sentence to try it again. You were more than aware of every breath you took at first, how every time you moved to write something down the chair squeaked underneath you. He started by working through the theory again, letting you wrap your head around the new concept you’d done in class. Then he started asking questions, prompting you with easy words that you’d remember.

You were as pleasant a student as you could be. You didn’t let yourself complain, shying away from asking the same questions even when his explanations didn’t bridge the gaps.

You’d written enough to be going on by the time curfew was rolling around. Remus waited for you to finish packing up your stuff, walking you out of the library.

“Humour me something?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said, confused.

“What size shoe are you?”

The next morning, a sparkling pair of new school shoes waited for you outside the Hufflepuff common room. You didn’t know how Remus knew where you were or that you’d be the one to stumble across them. You looked over your shoulder and down the corridor suspiciously before slipping off the quidditch shoes to kick your feet into the new shoes. They were lovely. You must have stared down at them for a solid five minutes, hand pressed against your pleased mouth to stop yourself smiling so hard.

A clattering sound made you flinch. When you looked, there was nobody there.

“Guys, why do we even prank people?” James asked.

“The look on their faces?” Sirius suggested.

“Trying to fill some hole inside of you?”

James pinched the meat of Remus’ bicep. “I don’t have any holes.”

“Concerning! A doctor's visit is necessary after that admission,” Sirius said.

Professor McGonagall glared at the three boys, rolling her eyes at their ‘we’re so innocent’ expressions.

“I just meant,” James corrected, voice quiet to avoid McGonagall’s scorn, “that the look on Y/N’s face was certainly much better than how she looked when we arrested her shoe.”

“So because you made one girl happy, you want us to become some band of Santa Claus wannabes?”

Remus sighed at Sirius’ tone, detecting an impending spat.

“You’re just relieved that she’s not upset anymore and you can go on believing you’re a good person,” Sirius continued.

“I am a good person.”

“Guys!” Remus piped up finally. They both let this run off their shoulders.

“Why’d you think she lied about losing her shoes?” Sirius asked.

Remus shrugged. “She’s probably just shy.”

“But you admitted the puddle was ours?”

Remus nodded.

James bit a chunk off of his sugar quill off to chew on loudly. “She must know we know what happened.”

“Then she’s embarrassed,” Remus said. “It’s fine. She accepted the shoes. Maybe it’ll teach you both to actually think about how the people on the other side of your jokes feel.”

“Someone’s still cranky about their tea this morning,” Sirius teased.

Remus resisted the urge to rest his face on the desk. “Can it be called tea at that point?”

“Salty tea. Sal-tea,” James said, grinning.

“It wasn’t even a good prank by your standards. You have to admit that.”

Both Sirius and James sniffed. “Whatever, Moons. If you helped more, they’d be better.”

Remus went back to his parchment. Transfiguration at NEWT level was gruelling, almost as terrible as potions. “Have you done your essay for Slughorn?” he asked his two friends.

“I have,” Sirius said, much too pleased.

James groaned.

“James…”

“I know - I’m head-boy. I should set an example, blah, blah. Already had it off Lily-kins this morning.”

Crunch. James continued to eat away his feelings. Sirius leaned back in his chair, a picture of idleness. Remus sighed, leaning over to get his essay from his bag and slide James’ way.

“I love you, Moony,” he whispered, scanning the essay fervently.

“Hurry up. We have like, ten minutes.”

Sirius’ throat bobbed. “Thank fuck for that.”

James scribble down as much as he could rephrase in that ten minutes until the three boys were rushing down the corridors to the dungeons for potions.

“Why’s this castle so fucking big? It’s a piss take,” James complained.

“It’s been this big since first year,” Remus said.

“Exactly, imagine how tiring this was when we had little legs!” James said. “It’s child abuse.”

Sirius winced. “That's a warped definition.”

“Sorry,” James said. The three boys came to a stop outside the potions classroom where their other classmates waited, including the Hufflepuffs. James waved at Lily where she stood with her own friends. She waved back.

You stood pressed against the cold stone wall, gazing down at your shoes. Your expression flickered from unseeing to happy to unseeing again. Remus frowned.

“What do we actually know about her?” he asked Sirius, who was watching you just the same.

He lolled his head to the side, shoulder length hair covering a quarter of his face, his mouth. “Nothing at all.”

“Lily says she was friends with Marlene,” James said.

“Was?”

James shrugged at Remus' question. “Girl drama.”

“What, like she’s mean?” Sirius asked.

“Marl said she’s a ‘stuck up bitch’, didn’t answer anyone’s letters over the summer.”

“She didn’t seem like one yesterday,” Remus said. “She’s almost too nice.”

“That’s how they get you though, right? Mean people aren’t mean all the time.”

“Or Marlene‘s blowing stuff out of proportion, which isn’t unheard of. She could have a million reasons for not answering anyone’s letters,” Sirius reasoned.

Slughorn finally showed up, jovially shepherding the students into the classroom. It was unlike Sirius to talk down on Marlene, for whom he had a soft-spot. He must see the same lightness in you that Remus did, unwilling to believe the kindness you showed others was inauthentic.

Slughorn wanted to make Rat Tonic today, of all things. Rat Tonic was a healing potion for rats. It had one use. James was beside himself, complaining to Lily that how could anyone expect him to set an example when the potions they were making were completely useless.

“Not completely useless, James. It heals rats,” Lily said lightly.

“Brilliant.”

Sirius set about collecting the ingredients. Remus flipped through the seventh year textbook to find the Rat Tonic section, despite Slughorn's careful instructions written on the chalkboard. He could hear your voice peaking through all the others. He decided this was because you were on his mind.

“That’s okay. I’ll do it, you sit tight,” you were saying.

You disappeared into the store room cupboard where Sirius and half the class were congregated.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” you said.

Remus turned to look. Sirius was smiling at you, a small feat considering his smiles were doled out sparingly. You were brushing yourself down; Remus assumed you’d bumped into him. “That’s alright, Y/L/N. New shoes giving you grief?”

Your face warmed, red inching up your cheekbones. “No, they’re lovely. The fault’s all mine.”

“No harm done.”

Funny how meeting someone properly made these small interactions an event instead of an unnoticeable occurrence. Sirius already had the air about him that Remus knew well, protective softening of his eyes, friendly tilt of his chin. He must still feel guilty about making you cry, Remus summarised. Godric knew he did, and he’d only been a bystander.

You smiled at Sirius, shy, appreciative. Remus did his best to pretend he hadn’t been watching you when you went back to your desk. You did most of the work for your partner, seeming unsure of yourself but willing to try anyway. Sirius took charge with their own potion, letting Remus mostly stand back and suggest corrections. By the end of the lesson they had a promising cauldron full of potion, enough to heal tens of rats.

Yours was lightly smoking, alerting everyone in the vicinity that something had gone wrong.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised to your partner, ever-present smile glued to your lips. “I’m stupid, it’s my fault.”

The Hufflepuff girl you were with shrugged. “Whatever, just chill out.”

Your mouth fell in a flat line. “Right. Sorry.”

Slughorn peered at the potion down his round nose. “Not the worst attempt I’ve ever seen, girls. Do you know what went wrong?”

“Y/N added too much Honeywater,” your partner said, quick to throw you under the bus.

You dug the toe of your shoe into the cobble ground underneath. “Sorry, Professor.”

“That’s quite alright. A smidge more scurvy grass will fix this up into a working tonic in no time, dear.”

You nodded. Slughorn left you to fix your potion, instructing each student to bring a phial of their potion to be graded as well as their homework assigned last lesson. Sirius filed two phials, vanishing the rest.

Remus watched him, mild puzzlement turning to approval as Sirius approached you, knocking into your side. The phial of the potion you’d filled fell to the ground.

Sirius bent to pick it up, apologising. “We have to stop meeting like this,” he said easily, letting your phial fall into the depths of his sleeve. “Here,” he said, presenting you with the second phial of potion from his and Remus’ own cauldron.

“Thank you,” you said, relieved.

Slughorn was appeased. “Can hardly tell you made the mistake in the first place! Well done, miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you, professor.”

Remus nudged Sirius’ arm. “A guilty conscience is good for you.”

“Shut it.”

It was too cold to go outside in September if you were being realistic. After one jumper, one robe and a warming charm you deemed yourself protected enough to brave the outdoors.

It was a Saturday. You used to have a love-hate relationship with weekends at Hogwarts, spending the days with friends in the village or shooting the breeze, staying up all night afterwards wondering why you felt so disconnected from people who were perfectly nice to you. Now the weekends were lonely. You hadn’t bothered seeking out your old friends. They were here in school and they felt miles away at the same time.

You were walking across the less travelled greenery of the Hogwarts grounds, thinking. Somewhere dry to sit would be ideal.

You settled down in some cushy grass. You’d brought five important items with you: a book, your notebook, a pen, and two satsumas. Your mouth watered at the sight of them. You peeled one in a hurry, the frigid hair making your fingers ache. You dug a stiff fingertip into the skin and pulled it away, making it a little dish from the rind to deposit all the pith into.

You balanced the naked segments on your knee, laying your notebook out on the other. It wasn’t really a journal, you didn’t like writing down your thoughts. Writing them down made them real. Instead, you copied out passages you liked from books you borrowed from the library, drew half-good sketches of what you could see, tucked leaves under the paper and rubbed your pencil against it until a perfect image was left behind.

You’d dog-eared your current read, poetry, on a page of a poemyou wanted to transcribe.

The big yawning mouth of September swallows me whole, you copied down. I let it kill me. Better September than a permanent frost, than the cold mouth of God

And still, I yearn for the leaf litter, golden

I yearn for the piercing downfall of sun

I yearn for myself, who will not see September again

If you died, you might miss September. You couldn’t think of anything else as you wrote it down. You might miss the sun and the dying trees. Maybe it would be better if you did.

You turned the page despite an abundance of room. It felt silly to think of this again, to want to die. You knew you had so much to be grateful for and you might’ve had more, if you tried for it. If you could only get up off the ground and reach out to the people who liked you and apologised for being a huge mess of a person, they might let you back in.

The poem went on.

The yearning can’t erase the trepidation of an October,

Struck through within grief, grief

Struck through with a longing

Better September than the short, cruel days of

You stopped writing. You didn’t want to remember the poem anymore. The terrible thing about wanting to kill yourself is that no matter how self aware you were, no matter how grateful you were to have a life, it never went away. It stayed at the forefront. You could sit with friends, laugh, smile, and still rather be dead. It felt ridiculous, selfish and callous and ungrateful, but that was just how it went.

You shut your journal hard and crammed the remainder of your satsuma in your mouth, sniffing against frustrated tears. Juice leaked out the corner of your mouth. You chewed morosely, staring for a long time across the way at a patch of grass that seemed squished, more so than the rest. It shifted. It almost looked like somebody was standing atop it.

You wiped your mouth. Shifted from sitting cross-legged to on your knees, rifling through your bag for your wand.

“Incendia,” you murmured, voice steady where your hand shook, pointing at the impossible grass.

“Fuck me!” A voice said. Two bodies tumbled into view, one with the very bottom of his pants alight.

James Potter was on fire. It jumped up the material of his pants leg. He made an undignified sound, hitting it with the length of his sleeves repeatedly.

The body that had fallen underneath him shrieked. “James, fucks sake!”

You extinguished the flame with a simple water-summoning spell that just so happened to soak the bottom of his trousers,

“Sorry,” you said. What you meant to say was, that’s what you get for spying on me, perverts.

“Yes, quite right,” James said. He rolled off of his friend Sirius, who you’d spoken to only yesterday in potions.

“How were you invisible?”

Sirius held up a sheet of dazzling fabric that had pooled in his lap.

James slapped him upside the head. “What has possessed you to give away our second most-guarded secret?”

“Well, she’s not blind! How else do you explain invisibility?” Sirius said unhappily. He shoved James away from him, who fell back into the wet grass.

“Ew,” James said, staggering back onto his feet. You were perturbed and amused at once. It wasn’t often you saw the brilliant James Potter fall on his arse.

“You have the Cloak of Invisibility?”

“What? No, that’s a kids story. This is an invisibility cloak, very different.”

You dropped back down off your knees, which were dirtied from digging into the dewy soil. You wondered if you should ask them what business they had watching you, if they were pulling a prank on you that you weren’t privy to yet.

You only screwed your mouth up. It was an effort you didn’t want to expend.

“Is your leg okay?” you asked James, digging through your bag for the second satsuma.

Sirius grabbed the back of James’ robes to pull himself up, groaning. “He’s fine. I, however, have been misshapen.”

“Are you fat shaming me?”

“No sir. You’re perfect the way you are. I am only mould able the way I am. A coincidence.”

James flicked Sirius’ ear.

You went back to peeling your fruit, splitting the flesh into quarters made from 3 or 4 segments each. You scratched the pith away with your nail.

“You want some?” you asked, holding out a quarter to Sirius, who was closest.

He opened his mouth and no words came out. He’d reached towards the offered fruit automatically but had paused before accepting it. “I - sure. Thanks,” he said, taking it gently.

You offered James the same, who also accepted.

“You can sit back down, if you want to.”

They did. You chewed in awkward silence. James looked emotionally confused, expression flitting from guilty to curious to suspicious and back again. Sirius looked perfectly unbothered, as always.

“We weren’t spying on you,” James said suddenly.

You laughed, raising your eyebrows for a split second of derision.

“Really.”

“What were we doing, then?” Sirius asked, wiping his hands in James’ leg. James didn’t seem to notice.

“Researching.”

“Right,” you said. “Researching…?”

“You,” Sirius said, as though this was obvious.

You bit your lip, afraid of becoming the butt of a joke. James and Sirius had never seemed overtly cruel to you, but people weren’t always mean on purpose. They loved playing games with people if it meant a good laugh was to be had at the end of it.

Your hands were clammy, sweating despite the chill. If it weren’t bad enough that you feared for your dignity, they were both ridiculously handsome. You knew James was a taken man and respectfully directed your thoughts to Sirius, who was so pleasing to look at it made you want to rip your eyes out. His expression was one of somebody who definitely knew more than you at all times and found it more than funny, though it was softened by his big eyes, his dark eyelashes.

His eyes narrowed at your gaze. “See something you like?”

“Why are you researching me?” you asked instead.

“We wanted to know more about you.”

You stretched, wincing at the popping sound your back made. “Why?”

“We’re sorry about your shoes.”

You laughed, a nervous response. “It wasn’t your fault, don’t worry about it.”

“It was our fault,” James said. “Our puddle, our fault.”

“I could’ve walked around it.”

“And what would the fun in that be? We truly are sorry about the shoe. We didn’t mean to… upset you,” Sirius said.

“Oh, you saw that?” you asked, bringing your hands up to your hair, twisting a strand of it around your finger until it snapped. “I was being stupid.”

“You say that a lot. You don’t seem stupid to me,” James said brashly.

You didn’t know what to say. “I just-“

“Come on, Y/L/N, let us take the blame for that one,” Sirius said, a small gust of wind pushing his hair away from his face.

“Apologies are - are unneeded. They don’t make sense, anyways. You replaced my shoes, so…” you trailed off, staring at the cuffs of your dark jeans,

“We’re sorry anyways. Are you done with that?” James asked, pointing at the remaining satsuma on your knee.

You shook your head.

“It’s cold out here,” he commented through a mouthful of fruit. “How come you’re not inside?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, smiling, always smiling.

“Sure you do. Something bothering you?”

“Nah, not really. It’s just quiet out here.”

“Library’s plenty quiet.”

“It’s full of people, though.”

“You don’t like people?”

“Alright, prongs, let her be. You wanna come play Gobstones with us?”

You sighed through your nose. If you were going to live, or try to, what harm could it do? You were good at Gobstones. You followed them inside through the castle to a classroom that seemed empty enough. Sirius stood on the very edge of a wobbly floorboard and it came up on the other side. James leaned over to take the gobstone box out from underneath it.

“Shall we call on Remus?”

“I’ll go get him,” Sirius said, slipping from the room.

“Where is he?” you asked.

“Remus didn’t technically know of our excursion today.”

“Does he miss out on the girls’ quidditch cloakroom too?”

“We’re not perverts! Goodness. And if you thought as much, why’d you come to play games?”

You smiled at him. “I don’t really think that. Still, who spies on people like that? Couldn’t you have used a pair of omnioculars like normal teenage boys?”

“Yes, well, we didn’t think of that.”

James poured the gobstones out on the floor, sitting behind them. You sat opposite him.

“How did you know where I’d be?”

“We saw you leaving this morning,” he said quickly.

“I’m still confused as to what you wanted to see.”

“If I tell you something, you mustn’t say anything. Sirius says we can’t hurt your feelings.”

His statement made your heart drop into your chest. You chewed on your lip, picking up a gobstone to roll between your finger and thumb.

“The reason we wanted to watch you is because McKinnon says you’re stuck up. We don’t really think so, so we resolved to watch you and see what it is.”

You nodded. “She’s probably right.”

“You don’t seem stuck up, you seem lonely.”

You almost dropped the marble.

“I’ve never watched a girl eat an orange and seem so depressed at the same time.”

“It’s not the satsuma’s fault.”

“You don't have to tell me, your secrets are your own. But, pray tell, why did you stop writing your friends this summer? Marl thinks you think you’re too good for them, but I don’t believe it.”

You didn’t know what to say. Rolling your shoulders, you let the marble drop back onto the floor to join the rest. This was a question you definitely couldn’t answer without seeming crazy. Besides, it hardly felt appropriate to tell acquaintances you’d spent the summer racked by suicidal thoughts.

“It wasn’t personal,” you said.

“I’ll take your word for it. Godric, where the fuck was Remus hiding?”

“If only you knew,” Remus said, pushing open the door. James flinched.

“He was in the shower,” Sirius supplied usefully.

James wiggled his eyebrows. “Enjoying some personal time.”

“Oh, get fucked, prongs.”

“It was both tantalising and pathetic,” Sirius said.

“If I could count on one hand how many times I’ve seen you with your pants around your ankles, I’d feel for you,” Remus said to Sirius, looking properly embarrassed.

You gifted Remus the kindness of pretending to be too interested in the gobstones to notice what they were bantering about.

“You alright?” he asked, sitting on your side. Sirius let himself drop down in James' personal space.

“I’m good. How are you?”

“Fucking tired,” he said. His hair was still damp.

“Not too tired to be defeated by my immense skill, I hope,” James said.

“You wish. I hope you’re good at gobstones, Y/N. If only to bring these two down a few pegs.”

Sirius launched a gobstone at Remus. It hit his sternum with a thunk.

The thing about making friends was that it was hard. Sometimes you looked at Sirius and thought, oh my god, why are we doing this? Or you watched Remus sleeping up against James’ shoulder and thought, do I deserve to see this?

It came with a lot of guilt. You’d had friends before, good friends, who made you laugh and bought you birthday presents and listened to your fears, but it felt like finally you’d found friends that understood, and kept choosing to seek you out even though you felt as though you were boring and more effort than a person could be worth.

After gobstones, Sirius and Remus and James all found reasons to talk to you when they saw you. This made you happy, excited to not be alone. It also made you worry because, although they weren’t as intense, the constant suicidal thoughts stayed. You worried you’d ruin their lives if you did something soon, so you kept a section of distance between yourself and the Marauders that you designated ‘the cushion’.

The cushion acted as a stopper for grief. You didn’t tell them much about yourself, didn’t make jokes. You didn’t let them build you up into a girl worth crying over.

Nevertheless, they kept trying; come the second week of October, James was inviting you to a party.

“After the Quidditch match tonight in the Gryffindor common room. You won’t be the only Hufflepuff, so don’t worry about that.”

“I’m not really a party girl,” you said. He looked up from his charms homework. Lily shrugged her shoulders.

“Keep Remus company, then,” Lily said. “He usually just sits in the corner with a book.”

“He won’t mind?”

“Nah, he likes you,” James said.

That was that. James told you he expected to see you at the match in an hour and you went your separate ways, watching as James threw his arm around Lily’s shoulder with a weird kind of longing.

You went back to your dormitory to drop off your bag and find a warm robe to wear, as well as a scarf. You tucked your book into the large inner corner of your robe and made your way out to the pitch.

A few of your old friends were already in the stands when you arrived. You skipped a few rows to sit above them.

You felt sorry for yourself as they laughed with each other, wondering why you never seemed to fit in with them, how they seemed just as happy with you gone. Maybe your presence hadn’t affected them at all.

It wasn’t fair of you. You stopped talking to them first, you abandoned their friendship first. But you just hadn’t felt like it mattered, like they even cared at all. You were a placeholder. A number to bulk up the group.

They looked young and happy, all of them attractive. They were like movie stars. You were a member of the audience, you realised. You always had been.

You bit your lip, sitting down heavy on the wooden bench behind you. It was Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw tonight. James was already in the skies with some other players, messing about before the game began.

You watched him. He was the only one you recognised. He seemed more carefree in the skies, young face basked in light, unruly hair whipping all around him in the winds. It was colder, this high up.

He spotted you in the stands and waved. You didn’t wave back - you knew he was waving at you, but the small chance he was waving to somebody else made you hesitate, never quick to engage in something that might embarrass you.

He waved again. Then, he put his finger against the corner of his lip and drew it up his cheek in a curve.

You smiled. He was pleased, nodding before darting off to the ground where Madam Hooch was shouting for the players to get ready.

You understood quidditch enough to know that James Potter was a great chaser. He had the quaffle more times than you could count, scoring enough goals that by the time the snitch was caught, Gryffindor’s victory was a done deal. You cheered with the other Hufflepuffs, letting the stands empty almost completely before you made your way off the pitch. You paused at the doors to the great hall, wondering how you were going to find the Gryffindor common room.

“There she is!” somebody called.

You looked up. James, Sirius, Remus and Lily were stood off to one side.

You met them halfway. “Hi,” you said.

“Hi, we thought we lost you. Quick, it’s bloody freezing down here,” Sirius said, already setting off down the corridor.

You followed them up through the castle and across a moving staircase to a portrait of a robust woman who was very chatty tonight. She let you inside the common room reluctantly, a large open room with a cosy feel to it, fat armchairs and sofas already

full of people, and a fireplace warming the room. You pulled your scarf off straight away, overwhelmingly warm.

There was already a surprising amount of underage drinking occurring. You rolled your eyes, uninterested.

Remus led you away to a dimly lit corner, collapsing into the sofa with a practiced sigh. You followed, the sofa was more of a loveseat, so your legs touched as time went on.

You extracted your book and shed your robe. It fell open to the page you revisited most. You’d intended to take this book back to the library once you finished writing down the poem, but you never had. Something wouldn’t allow you to finish the line.

Better September than the short, cruel days of warmth

Warmth I cannot touch

Warmth nobody will pass to me

The warmth that passed through me and leaves me cold still

“What are you reading?” Remus asked.

You shut the book and passed it to him.

He scratched his nail against the side. “You like poetry?”

“I guess so. What do you read?”

“I’m not picky.”

“You have a favourite?”

He thought about it, passing the book back to you. “The Outsiders. You?”

“No.”

“You don’t have a favourite book?”

“I don’t have a favourite anything.”

“What?” he asked, laughing.

You grimaced, shaking your head at him.

“Favourite colour?”

“Not that I can think of.”

“Song?”

“I don’t really listen to music.”

He seemed so unsettled by this. He sprung to his feet to collect Sirius. “Tell Pads what you just told me.”

“You’re making fun of me.”

“No! No, just tell him.”

“I said ‘I don’t really listen to music.’”

You knew he wasn’t being cruel. Still, being known by others was cruel, flayed by your own honesty. You held your hand out for Sirius’ drink and he gave it to you, too shocked at your admission. You drank the entirety of it.

Sirius spun on his heel.

“Is he, like, upset that I don’t like music?” you asked Remus, watching Sirius push through the mass of bodies to climb the stairs.

“He’s gone to get his 8-track.”

Sirius returned, wedged himself between you and Remus so that his thigh was on top of yours. He pushed a metal-banded headset onto your ears, insisting you listen to some of his favourite songs. He’d brought multiple cartridges.

You indulged him. With headphones on you couldn’t be expected to make conversation, so you shut your eyes, leaned your head against Sirius’ shoulder. He jostled you each time he laughed, and he laughed a lot.

You liked the second cartridge more than the first.

“You have good taste,” he praised.

James found you all eventually, insisting on sitting on the arm of the chair next to you so as to not feel left out. He passed a drink to Sirius, which you stole.

He pushed the headphones off of your ears to rest around your neck. “I’ll forgive you for thievery if you listen to the next one in full.”

The new drink was sour and made you feel extremely hot. You gasped after finishing it. “What is that?”

“Firewhiskey,” James said.

“Can I have another?”

“I thought you weren’t a big drinker?”

“What else is there to do?”

“Oh, are we boring you?” Remus asked, sarcastic.

“No,” you said, the two drinks already making you feel lighter. “I just don’t want to think about the poem anymore.”

“What poem?”

“September’s yawning mouth,” you said, passing James the book where it’d been tucked under your thigh and put Sirius’ headphones back on before he could ask anything else.

James opened your book, looking through for the poem you’d named. The pages were creased at the corners.

The big yawning mouth of September swallows me whole

I let it kill me.

Better September than a permanent frost, than the cold mouth of God

And still, I yearn for the leaf litter, golden

I yearn for the piercing downfall of sun

I yearn for myself, who will not see September again

The yearning can’t erase the trepidation of an October,

Struck through within grief, grief

Struck through with a longing

Better September than the short, cruel days of warmth

Warmth I cannot touch

Warmth nobody will pass to me

The warmth that passed through me and leaves me cold still

“It’s sad,” James mumbled.

Sirius held his hand out. You had gone back to how you were, leaning against shoulders with your eyes closed. James passed the book over your head. Sirius and Remus read it together.

“Well, I can see why she wants to get drunk,” Sirius said. “How depressing.”

“Yeah, I think I’d like a drink too,” Remus said, getting up so that Sirius fell into the space left behind. You jerked at the sudden movement, eyes opening to peer around curiously.

“Hey, Hufflepuff, why’d you stop writing letters this summer?” James asked again, thinking about the context of the poem and your propensity for tears.

“I didn’t think I was coming back,” you gave in finally, finally.

James struggled to hear you over the noise of the party. Sirius was looking at you with little emotion on his face, though James knew him well enough to see he felt bad for you.

“How come?”

You shrugged, blinking rapidly. “It was stupid. Now I have no friends and bad grades.”

“We’ll be your friends,” James said, frowning.

“And don’t worry about your grades,” Sirius said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I’m top of the class, if you hadn’t heard.”

“He’s fourth.”

“Third!” Sirius corrected.

You shook your head. “Don’t offer me these nice things just ‘cos you feel bad for me. This is all my own doing.”

James shrugged. “We like you.”

Remus returned, Lily at his side. “Speak for yourself,” he joked, then smiled at you tenderly.

He passed you and Sirius a drink. James lifted his own. “To my immense quidditch success, and our friend Y/N.”

“To Y/N!” they cheered.

You had the strangest look on your face, happy and immeasurably sad at the same time. James resolved to fix that, too.

my masterlist

I didn’t use my marauders tag list because I thought the kind of stuff i want to talk about in this series isn’t everyone’s cup of tea and could be triggering for some, but if you’d like to be added let me know! thanks <3

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