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#euphemia x fleamont
badboimoira · 9 months
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Effie and Monty
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florsial · 4 months
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think think think
Regulus sneaks off to the Potters to give Sirius a secret Christmas gift and gets caught by Sirius and James who convince him to stay a bit longer, and every time Regulus is like, "I have to go" and Sirius is like, "It's Christmas Reg, cmon just a little longer, you can say that I dragged you here against your will or whatever, just stay a little for a bit longer." And Regulus, being loki helpless against his older brother, just agrees. And he begins to bond with everyone.
Eventually, Regulus accidentally stays the rest of the day and when he gets ready to finally leave, Effie is like, "Would you like to stay the night? It's quite late" and Monty just straight up says, "Would you like to stay forever?"
And that's how Regulus ran away. (Accidentally)
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hotdamnitsmoony · 4 days
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effie used to let james ‘help’ her to cook while he was growing up, but he always made much more of a mess than actually helping. when regulus moved in, he offered to help effie as a way to give something back, and she taught him everything she knew, recipes and all!
when she died, regulus started cooking for james. it took one dish of effie’s special pasta to send james into a breakdown, because his mum might be gone, but her legacy lives on.
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risetherivermoon · 8 months
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James, age 9: hey mum? i have a question
Effie: hm? alright then, lay it on me
James: who would be a better father? me or barty?
Barty, age 8, with his arms folded, standing next to james: 😒
Effie: why are you asking this?
James: mum! its important
Effie: Ok! Barty,
James: WHAT?!?
Barty: WHAHAHA
Effie: hes more responsible, somehow
Barty, running out of the room excitedy: WOO I GET THE KIDS IN THE DIVORCE ITS BEEN SETTLED
James, going after him: WAIT WE NEED TO WORK OUT A CUSTODY SCHEDULE!! BARTY!!
Monty: kids??
Effie: i stopped questioning it a while ago
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regulusunset · 1 year
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James: so, um– i'm dating a guy
Euphemia: oh honey... that's sweet, who is it?
James: well, eh, it’s Regulus
Euphemia:
Fleamont:
Euphemia: those are your genes, Monty
Fleeamont, coughing: dear, i have no idea what you're saying
Euphemia: fifth year Gryffindor bath with Alphard Black–
James: Sirius and Regulus' uncle!?
Fleamont:
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lulublack90 · 2 months
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Prompt 19 - Pathetic
@jegulus-microfic January 19 Word count 903
“Prongs, it’s only two weeks. I'm pretty sure you can survive two weeks without my brother.” James knew that Sirius was right. It was only two weeks. But it was two weeks knowing that Regulus was in Grimmauld Place and would be having a very lonely Christmas with only his parents and Kreacher. James on the other hand was never lonely. He had Sirius and Remus staying with him and Peter came over nearly every day. Plus he also had two very loving parents. It was hard for him to have so much love and know Regulus had none.
A week went by and it was Christmas Eve. James knew he was annoying Sirius and Remus. He had been mopping about, not finding any interest in anything. Even his mother had commented on it. He’d been trying so hard since then to put on a brave face and make an effort. 
They were all sitting around the Christmas tree, putting the finishing touches on it and drinking huge mugs of hot chocolate — Remus was already on his second — when the wards alerted them to someone trying to get in. 
Monty slipped his wand out of his pocket, closely flanked by Euphemia.
“Stay back, boys. I mean it.” He commanded when he saw all three of them inching forward. Monty pulled the front door open, revealing a skinny young man wrapped tightly in a thick, expensive-looking travel cloak. He had the hood pulled up, hiding his face from view. But James would know him anywhere. Regulus Black was stood on his doorstep. 
“Let him in, Dad.” He heard himself saying as he walked forward. 
“Who is it?” Monty asked, looking confused. Sirius squinted, peering at the visitor. 
“Oh, for crying out loud. You’re both as pathetic as each other, you know. It’s only two weeks!” He shook his head and grabbed Remus’s hand, taking him back into the living room. “Hi, Reg. Merry Christmas.” He called over his shoulder. Understanding shot across Monty and Effie’s faces. 
“Come in, come in.” Effie waved Regulus forward.
“Thank you,” Regulus said politely once the door was firmly shut behind him. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs Potter. I hope my arrival isn’t an inconvenience.” 
“The pleasure is all mine, I’m sure, and it’s Effie, not Mrs Potter. And this is Monty. Say hello, Monty.”
“Hello, Monty,” Monty answered, deftly dodging Effie’s swotting hand.  
“Please ignore him, dear. Will you be staying for Christmas?” She asked as she gestured for his cloak.
“If that is alright, Mrs—Effie.” Regulus swallowed awkwardly.
“Of course it is. Does your Mother know you’re here?” Effie asked kindly. 
“If that bitch turns up here…” Sirius yelled through from the living room. 
“Sirius, language.” Effie cut him off before he could finish whatever it had been he was going to say. 
“Not exactly. She thinks I went back to Hogwarts to study for my O.W.L’s. I am going to go back to Hogwarts to study, but I thought I could make a detour on the way.” He gave her a sheepish crooked smile that James knew Sirius used on her all the time. As much as the Black brothers liked to argue that they were entirely different from each other, they both used the same tricks regularly. 
“Hmm, I’m not overly happy with that, dear. Especially after the last time with Sirius,”
“You love me!” Sirius yelled through again. 
“Stop shouting in my house, Sirius.” Effie chastised him, barely lifting her vice but very clearly heard. 
“Sorry, Effie,” Sirius called out more quietly. James could hear Remus giggling and Sirius swotting at him with a cushion.
“Sorry,” Regulus fidgeted with the cuffs of his jumper, “I’ll go.” He held out his hand for his travel cloak still in Effie’s hands. James turned to his mother pleadingly. 
“Don’t be silly, Regulus dear. It takes a lot more than Walburga Black to scare me.” She said with a very toothy smile. Regulus took a step back. Shock flashing in his eyes. 
“Come along, Monty. I need help setting up a room for Regulus.” She winked at Regulus and squeezed James’s arm as she headed to the stairs. 
“What’s the point? He’s just going to end up in James’s bed anyway.” Sirius cackled from the living room, clearly enjoying himself. 
“Sirius, behave,” Effie told him in her best mum voice. 
“Sorry, Mum.” Sirius apologised, his voice very subdued. 
Effie and Monty left James and Regulus alone in the hallway. 
“Hi,” James finally got to say once his parents had disappeared. 
“Hi,” Regulus smiled back. He rushed forward into James’s waiting arms and tilted his head up to look at him. James leant down and kissed him.
“Ooooooo.” Remus's cat called from the doorway. 
“Godric, Moony, don’t encourage them.” Sirius wasn’t as gung-ho now. 
James ignored them both, only having eyes for Regulus. He dipped his head again, kissing him gently before dragging him into the living room. 
“Want to annoy Sirius?” He whispered in Regulus’s ear. 
“Always,” Regulus murmured back, eyes flashing with mischief, not unlike his brothers did. James sat down and pulled Regulus onto his lap and continued kissing him and smiling when Sirius started protesting wildly to their, in his words, disgusting public display of affection. 
James could feel Regulus’s chest shaking as he tried to keep his laughter contained. James was now quite happy to be home for Christmas.   
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gegshshsbsbbsba · 3 months
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i fully and wholeheartedly believe that effie got to know all of the marauders and made them their own rooms in potter manor and no one can tell me otherwise
like she got to know all of them and their interests and put up wallpapers and posters
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0anonnymouslyours0 · 1 year
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hellooo!! can i request james potter x reader, where reader is meeting euphemia and fleamont (james' parents) for the first time and they love her
yes effie and flea my bbys <33
no warnings all fluff ( like major fluff )
"are you sure you look alright?" you ask anxiously, smoothing out your dress almost aggressively.
"you look great love, i've told you my parents will love you." james soothes, squeezing your hand for emphasis.
"but are you-"
the old wooden door swings open, and a women stands in the doorway, a wide smile on her face. she looks kind, very kind, and although you know shes in her mid-fifties, she still looks thirty.
"james! your late." euphemia scolds, hurrying you both in.
"and you must be y/n. can't believe we've had to wait so long to meet you." she says, offering you a hand. you smile politely, taking it and shaking.
"good to finally put a face to the name. james talk too much about you." a man, who you presume is fleamont, says as he enters the room.
"dad!" james says, flushing red as effie and you giggle softly at him.
"you look gorgeous, has james told you? please tell me my son hasn't forgotten his manners." effie says, hooking an arm through yours and leading you to the sitting room.
"oh he hasn't, the perfect gentleman." you confirm, smiling at effie.
you glance back at james and his father, seeing fleamont pat james shoulder, an act that makes you smile fondly.
"well, i'm not usually overbearing but we'd love to hear all about you-"
"she is-" james cuts in under his breath, and you stifle a laugh.
effie swats his shoulder with a tea towel, though that large smile is still planted on her face.
"do tell us about yourself- oh and about how you and james are! is he treating you right?" fleamont says, and james dramatically sighs, burying his face in his hands.
"well.. i hate to inform you but-" you begin, laughing at james aghast expression.
"lies! all lies!" he cries, pouting at the 'injustice'.
effie calls in some tea, as you sit on the couches of the potters cozy living room, and you feel rather at home in a place you've only spent a few minutes in.
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james is the softest man you’ll ever meet, but say anything about his friends or family and he’ll get soooo possessive and protective especially regulus
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slobstation · 1 month
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when i’m sad i love thinking about the Potters and Apollo in my Marauders era x Percy Jackson world…
effie, monty and apollo
in every fic i read the Potters are early risers so im spreading that here,
they say goodmorning to their Part-Time-Sun, Full-Time-Babydaddy.
winter solstice? y’all better know they fucking stay up all night on winter solstice. they probably write shitty poetry
i bet they say cringey flirty things at the sun sometimes and then cringe because their retinas don’t approve of admiring the sun.
Apollo visits them and you can’t tell me other wise.
they talk to Apollos other children on Iris calls sometimes when James calls, and have a few visit them during holidays when they want ^^
^ they are also respectful of other people Apollo is/was involved with !!!!
when apollo visits they have poetry contests.
family game nights!!
KARAOKE!!!! FUCK YEAH. FUCK YOU IF YOU DISAGREE.
They grow hyacinths
James grows them at camp as well because OBVIOUSLY.
James wore a chunky sun costume for some Halloween’s, like maybe as a baby a little onesie with an sun.. WAIT HE HAD SO MANY OF THOSE. FIGHT ME.
feel free to share your own, a penny for your thought if you will (i will not be giving you a penny.)
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Just a little something I thought of, don’t know if it counts as a microfic... I've never done one before... Its slightly... long???? I think I'm suppose to tag @jegulus-microfic ? Sorry if thats wrong!!! lemme know what you think! (ill probably post this on ao3 actually.... maybe an extended version?? lemme know??)
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The wedding was loud as guests swung around the large dance floor. Regulus avoided them, moving to the side of the room, a cup grasp in his hand.
It was the wedding a cousin of James, who's name entirely escaped Regulus even now after hearing it several times. James himself was off dancing somewhere in the middle of the crowd, every now and again Regulus would catch a glimpse of him either spinning or being spun by some one.
It didn't bother Regulus as much as James thought it would have when he had asked, but in all honestly, Regulus wasn't big on dancing. Besides the only dances he really knew were the more traditional ones which would stick out like a sore thumb here and really didn't fit the beat.
"Having fun?"
Whipping around, wine nearly sloshing over the rim of his glass, Regulus came face to face with Euphemia Potter. The current Matriarch of the Potter family, Lady Potter and James' Mother.
They spoke often, so Regulus let the true easy smile he saved for people he actually liked fall across his face, replacing the look of mild interest he held before.
"Ah, yes. It's a lovely event."
"Good, I'm glad you're enjoying it." Euphemia's eyes shone with something that Regulus couldn't quiet identify as she looked between Regulus and her son, who was, by now, loudly singing along to the song while spinning around with yet another cousin.
They stood there for a moment, both sipping their respective drinks as Fleamont joined his son in the impromptu karaoke, along with a few other guests. Bending over their wands while they yelled the lyrics, while others clapped along to the accompanying music.
"When you and James get married, I think it may be best to get some dance lessons before hand." Regulus choked on his wine. Marriage wasn't something that had even come up in conversation before, not seriously at least. And defiently when Sirius wasn't around.
He knew that eventually James did want to get married, he had mentioned it in passing before. But for Regulus, the thought of getting married made him... not ill, but defiently not bursting at the seems with joy.
He loved James. And would love him forever. He could stay with him until his death and he would be happy, but the idea of actually 'tying the knot' was something that made his throat close over.
Something else stood out in Euphemia's words however, and it was better to focus on that than the thought of marriage right now.
"When?"
Smiling at him, Euphemia placed a hand on Regulus' arm and spoke;
"Of course when. The stars in you twos eyes are more than enough to fill the night sky."
A pause as a thought occurred to her;
"At least twice over at that."
Taking a sip from her own glass, she nodded to herself before motioning to Fleamont who had just fallen over trying to dance, though Regulus wouldn't call it that.
"I better go see if he's alright."
Calling over her shoulder, "Stay safe, dear!", before vanishing into the now huddling crowd leaving Regulus alone with his half filled wine glass.
When.
James, in an attempt to distract from his fathers fall was now attempting the same move his father had just fallen from. Smiling, Regulus took another sip as the sounds of laughter echoed through the room.
Maybe he didn't mind the thought of marriage after all.
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sunchasingstar · 9 months
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HC that Sirius takes after his mother in anger and emotions, she seen so much of who she used to be; who she could’ve become, in Sirius that it made her hate him most. Meanwhile, Regulus was always thought to be his father’s son, the perfect heir. Regulus had always been the son to follow the rules, to do what was expected of him. The second son, the second choice. He was the one to rebel in the quiet ways, to hide in the shadows while shedding his skin, just like who his father was. Except, Orion never rebelled, no.
Regulus took after his Uncle Alphard the most. A quiet man who had always been in his sister’s shadow, using it to his advantage. He took after his heart, as well. Like a curse, the second star must fall for the personification of the Sun, only to loose him in the end.
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yrluvjane · 10 months
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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑰𝑰
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[old money] James x fem!reader
《 Summary - James deals with feelings, and you fall ill after hearing the rumours spread about you of the day before, leaving you under his care.》
𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭
As James sat in his office, surrounded by a sea of paperwork and reports, all waiting for his signature, he couldn't help but think about you. Despite the relentless pressure of the approaching deadline, you kept popping up in his mind like a persistent siren, demanding his attention. 
There was something about you that James found intriguing, something that made him want to get to know you better, to understand what it was that made him feel this way. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about you that kept drawing him in - a spark, perhaps, or a certain sparkle that shone through in everything you did. Maybe James was hallucinating, maybe it was just the rays of the sun shining over you but even then, he had met many beautiful women throughout his life, but there was something about you that set you apart, a certain inner light that made you special and captivating. 
James had always felt like he was a passenger in his own life, watching the days and weeks and months go by with no real sense of purpose. He tried to go with the flow and make the best of what he had, but deep down he knew it wasn't enough. He longed for something deeper and more meaningful, but he was too afraid to take the risk and step out of his comfort zone. He was stuck in this limbo of uncertainty, unsure of what to do and who to be. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted something more, something different, something like you.
James' thoughts drifted off, lost in the memory of that day in the garden. He remembered how your eyes shined in the afternoon sun, and the connection that he felt to you that he couldn't quite put his finger on. As he sat there, lost in the memory, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for not pursuing things further. 
He wondered what could have been, if he had been braver and taken a chance on you. He couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the potential that had been there, and he couldn't help but smile to himself, imagining what could have been.
Lost in his thoughts, he knew that your memory would always be a part of him, and the connection that you had shared would always hold a special place in his heart. but before he could fully indulge in his thoughts, he noticed the clicking sound of heels approaching his door. With a groan of resignation, he prepared himself to entertain another one of Marge's ramblings. 
As the door opened, the noise of the crowded office poured in, threatening to disrupt the peace and quiet of his own space. With a deep sigh, he took a deep breath and attempted to focus his attention on Marge and whatever she had to say.
“It’s your dad.” She says. James took the phone from Marge, his heart filled with itching at the thought of hearing his father's voice. "Hello?" He says, a big smile spreading across his face. "Dad!" He says, his voice overflowing with joy. "How are you?" He asks, his mind already racing with all the questions he has for his father. James listens intently as his father speaks, taking in every word and relishing in the sound of his voice. He can't help but feel a sense of love and gratitude towards his father, even from afar. He knows that he's lucky to have such an amazing person in his life.
He knows that his father is always there for him, no matter what, and that feeling of connection and security is indescribable. Even now, when he is older and wiser, James can't help but feel grateful for his father's constant love and support, and he knows that he's lucky to have someone who has been such a guiding force in his life.
James trusts his father and he's sure that no matter what he shares with him, his father will be caring and understanding. And so James decides to share his moment with you with his father, feeling a sense of relief as he does so. 
After talking with his son Fleamont turned to Euphemia with a shocked expression. "I think James fancies someone...!" he exclaimed, looking at her in disbelief. Euphemia's expression immediately softened and she broke into a joyful grin. This was the first time Fleamont had witnessed his son developing a romantic interest, and it was a sight to behold. Yes, James has had intimate relationships with women before but even though James didn’t admit to feeling something for this girl. Fleamont knew better, he can’t recall a time in his life where James had described someone in such a picturesque way. 
He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy for James. Euphemia seemed to share his feelings, as her eyes lit up in excitement. They both knew that this was a significant moment in their son's life and they were eager to see where it would lead. They couldn't wait to see James' romantic exploits unfold and they couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as they reflected on the happy news.
He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and joy for James. Euphemia seemed to share his feelings, as her eyes lit up in excitement. They both knew that this was a significant moment in their son's life and they were eager to see where it would lead. They couldn't wait to see James' romantic exploits unfold and they couldn't help but grin from ear to ear as they reflected on the happy news.
Euphemia, not one to be kept out of the loop when it comes to her son's love life, immediately grabbed her phone and began to pester Sirius for information. She was eager to know who this girl was and how long James had been keeping her a secret. Euphemia knew that James held a special place in his heart for Sirius, the raven-haired boy who had been a constant presence in his life and was like a brother to him. 
She knew that if James were to confide in anyone about his romantic interests, it would be with Sirius. She couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and excitement. She knew that her other son would do whatever he could to help James navigate the wild tides of love and romance, and she hoped that their joint efforts would lead James to happiness and fulfilment.
So you could imagine Euphemia’s surprise  when she found out that Sirius was just as clueless as she was. Who was this girl that had caught James' attention? She wondered. It was such a surreal feeling, knowing that James had feelings for someone but having no idea who it could be. Euphemia was determined to uncover the mystery and, with Sirius' help, she made it her mission to track down this mysterious girl. Euphemia was a force to be reckoned with when it came to her son's love life, and her husband knew that she would not rest until she had all the information she needed. She refuses to let her son witness the darker side of love.
However, on the other side, James was completely oblivious to the fact that his previous actions would have a significant impact on your life. He never considered the consequences of his gestures, which would soon turn your world upside down, leaving you to get burned and pick up the pieces.
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The next day, you tried to downplay the whole thing when your friends had asked about him. They had seen them and had immediately assumed that something more was going on between us. Your friends only knew about your interaction with James due to one of them spotting the flowers he had given you and you, denying they were nothing more than that, Flowers.. And as soon as that information was disseminated among the group, your friends began to interrogate you relentlessly, attempting to extract every last detail about your encounter. You did your best to defend your privacy. 
They grilled you for hours, probing for every juicy detail, and you truly did your best to avoid the topic. Your friends continued to pester you about the man who butted himself into your life and you couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation. It was as though they couldn't comprehend the fact that not everyone was ready to share every detail about their lives.
In the end, you were left feeling exhausted and vulnerable, as though your personal boundaries had been completely trampled on by the curiosity of your friends. Your feelings towards James were a complex web of emotions, neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong. 
You felt a deep and intense attraction towards him, but at the same time, there was a sense of apprehension, a feeling of uncertainty that you couldn't quite shake. Her friends' incessant questioning only served to inflame that feeling of confusion and frustration.
And for some inexplicable reason, it felt as though James was a deeply private matter, and one that you, yourself, didn’t quite understand and would only be revealed on your own terms, when you were ready. But your friends persisted in their questioning, oblivious to your discomfort. 
And so, you did the only thing you could think of - you changed the subject, or else found a way to distract them long enough for the topic to be forgotten..You knew that talking about him would only make your feelings more complicated, and that was a dangerous path to go down on. But no matter how much you tried to deflect, your friends were relentless. It felt as if they were pressuring your to make sense of something that wasn’t really there. 
The day after, when you walk into the kitchen, ready to start your shift, you can feel the tension in the air. There's an awkward silence when you entered the kitchen. You keep catching your colleagues exchanging looks and whispering to each other, but no one seems to want to talk to you. They seem dismissive when you try to start a conversation.
No one speaks to you, and you're at a loss as to what's going on. They avoid your eyes, whispering to each other in hushed tones. Something is definitely off, but no one will tell you what. You try to break the silence with a cheerful, "Hey, good morning," but no one responds.
They just keep whispering and shooting you dirty looks. It's infuriating not to know what's going on, and you start to feel frustrated. As you make your way to your station, you notice even more strange looks from your colleagues, and you can't shake the feeling that something is seriously wrong. You feel as if the whole world is against you, and you don't know what to do. With a heavy heart, you start your shift, trying to keep your head down and do your work, but it's difficult to focus when everyone around you seems to be avoiding you like the plague. You've never felt so alone in your workplace before, and you're unsure how to fix it.
You approach your colleague Tina, who's standing over the cutting board, busily preparing carrots. "Hey, Tina," you call out, "Do you have a minute?" She looks up at you, her eyes cold. 
"I’m busy." she replies, her tone clipped. Your heart sinks, and you try to ignore the disappointment rising within you. You had hoped to get some answers from Tina. You try not to let your frustration show on your face, but it's hard, especially with the others still whispering behind your back, avoiding your gaze. It's like you're a ghost, invisible and repelling all forms of life. 
Your colleagues still seem to be keeping their distance, and you don't know what else to do. You feel like you could scream. Why is everyone treating you like this? You haven't done anything to deserve it. All you want is some answers, and it seems no one is willing to give them to you. Feeling desperate, you decide to approach a more level-headed colleague, Mary. You approach her and try to appear confident, even though you feel anything but. "Hey, Mary," you say, trying to sound casual. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"
Mary turns to look at you, her eyes lighting up with kindness. "Of course, Y/n! What's up?" She sends a soft smile at you, eager to hear what you have to say. Her presence is warm and welcoming, and you feel at ease as you look into her kind eyes. You take a deep breath and begin to speak, knowing that you can trust Mary to listen and understand.
“Is it me, or does everyone seem a bit..closed off?” You try. And subconsciously take a step back when you see Mary’s smile falter for a second. Her brows furrow and she almost looks sad as she looks at the rest of the crew who all seem to be eyeing her from the corner of their eyes, sending her warning glares like pariah’s eyeing their lunch. Mary's expression softens as she sees the concern in your eyes. She takes a deep breath and tries to maintain a calm demeanour, even as her own worries begin to surface. "It's not just you," she says softly. "I think–" Her eyes seemed to lock on something and you watched her bite her lips. “Come with me.” She says, her eyes boring into yours as she sends a heated glare to someone behind you. 
You notice the tension in Mary's expression and you start to feel a pit forming in your stomach. Her tone is crisp, and you can tell that she has something urgent to say. You take a deep breath, preparing yourself for whatever she has to say, and you follow her out through the corridor, away from the others. Her pace is quick, and you struggle to keep up with her as she marches ahead. "What's going on, Mary?" you ask, feeling a sense of unease washing over you.
“Yesterday, Mr. Potter gave you flowers.” She says and your eyes widen in shock. How did she know that?  You wondered and when your lips parted so you could voice your thoughts, she spoke again, answering your question as though she read your mind.
“There are words going around,” she explained. “Some are saying you and Mr. Potter are…” Mary paused for a moment, “dating..” Her eyes are watching you carefully, as if searching for a reaction. You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, and you look at Mary with a mix of emotions written all over your face. "Dating?" you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper. Mary pauses, her eyes locked on yours, as though she's trying to read your emotions. After what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks, her voice soft and almost whispery. "There are also rumours that you two have become...intimate." Her eyes seem to bore into yours, as though she's trying to see into the depths of your soul. 
You feel a mix of emotions wash over you, a strange fusion of guilt, fear. You can't even imagine what it would be like to be intimate with Mr. Potter, but the thought alone sends shivers down your spine. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and you hold her gaze, trying to be as calm and composed as possible. "It's not true," you say breathlessly, it almost comes out like a silent whisper, "Nothing happened between us."
You feel yourself getting more and more agitated as Mary continues to talk. You don't know why, but the idea that people are talking about you and Mr. Potter, saying that you're dating and even…you can't even bring yourself to finish her sentence in your head. You're getting dizzy, your heart is beating faster and faster, and you feel like you're about to pass out. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay. You tell yourself, trying to steady your shaking hands. In and out. In and out. You breathe in deeply, then let your breath out slowly, trying to calm yourself down. In and out. You can do this. You don't even realise that you've started chanting those words to yourself, trying to ground yourself in the present moment.
You try to steady yourself, but the world is spinning around you and you feel as if you're going to collapse. Your vision is blurred, and you can barely see anything in front of you. You struggle to take a deep breath, but you feel as if you're suffocating. “Y/n.” Mary’s voice rings out in your ears. You feel her arms wrap around you to help keep you standing.
You feel Mary's arms around you, and for a moment, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. You take a deep breath, and you try to steady yourself. "Mary, what are they saying?" you manage to say, your voice weak and hoarse. You know that they're talking about you, you can feel it. You can feel their eyes on you, their judgement weighing heavy on your shoulders. You’ve heard it once but you have to hear it again. It’s like your mind refuses to acknowledge this truth. You don’t want to believe this, you don’t even want to go anywhere near it, it’s like a nightmare. One you wish someone would wake you up from.
"What are they saying?" you repeat, this time a little louder, a little stronger. Mary squeezes your waist gently, as if to comfort you, and you hear her speak. "They're saying that you're...having an affair with Mr. Potter," she says softly, as if it hurts even to say the words. 
So you heard it right.
You feel a cold chill run down your spine, and you're not sure if you can handle this. You're not sure if you can handle the shame, the embarrassment. You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "It's not true," you say this time louder. "They're lying."
“I know.” She says softly into your ear. And then, just as suddenly as it started, everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.
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You blink your eyes open, and you feel a sense of disorientation as you try to adjust to your situation.
You lie there for a moment, drinking in your surroundings. You noticed that you were lying on a comfortable bed, in a large and well-appointed room. It was a beautiful room, with ornate wood panelling and large windows that overlooked a beautiful landscape. The sun was low and shining through the windows, casting a warm and inviting glow onto the room. 
The bed is made with crisp white sheets, and the AC hums quietly in the background, cooling the air to just the right temperature. You take a deep breath, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time in ages. You start to wonder where you are, how you got here, and most importantly: who brought you here? You sit up slowly, letting your eyes adjust to the soft lighting in the room as your brain tries to catch up to what's going on. 
You're brought back to reality by the feel of a hand on your shoulder, and you jump, startled. You turn to find Olivia, standing next to you, her face a mixture of concern and relief. "You're awake!" she exclaims, and you smile, feeling a sense of warmth settling over you. “What happened?” You asked, clutching your head to try and prevent the brewing headache threatening to occur.
"Are you alright? Do you remember anything?" Olivia's voice was soft, her voice calming. She squeezed your shoulder. "You're awake, which is good. You've been unconscious for a little while, you passed out. Mary caught you before you hit the ground and Anders told us to move you here." She spoke with a comforting tone, her hand rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “I should probably go and call for him.” She said, 
You watched as Olivia quickly excused herself, her pace brisk as she left to go and call the butler. Just as she closed the door behind her, you heard a knock on the door, and you looked up to see Anders enter the room. “Hey, where am I?” You asked, getting up and lying back on a bunch of huddled up pillows. "You're in one of the guestrooms," Anders replied. "Mr. Potter asked to relocate you here after he heard of your fall. I must say, it was quite disturbing to see you like that."
You couldn't help but feel a sense of embarrassment at the thought of fainting in front of everyone, "Thank you for helping me," you said, feeling a sense of appreciation and gratitude towards him but You couldn't help but feel a sense of unease and anxiety wash over you; reminding you that everyone is still talking behind your back and your little fainting spell would be like adding fuel to a forest fire.
"It's no problem. We're just glad to have you back. Are you feeling better now?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice. “Just tired.” You responded, laying a hand on your forehead and closing your heavy eyelids; hyper aware of how soft the sheets are and the warmth of the duvet draped over you; a sense of peace settling in.
You hear a soft knock on the door, and you groan and yawn as you roll over to your side, stretching like a cat as you rub the sleep from your eyes. You couldn't help but feel the usual sense of tiredness as you slowly started to rise; your body feeling sluggish and tired. You looked at the clock and realised that you had slept for hours and it was already the evening. “Come in!” You say, eyes trained on the ticking clock as you jolt up.
In walks Mr. Potter, tray in hand and look of concern etched on his face. His eyes soften with a sheepish smile, "I've brought you some tea and toast—not much, I know, but it should help you feel better." He sets the tray down on the small table by the bed, his manner warm and comforting.
"Take a bite. It might lift your spirit," Mr. Potter suggests, his deep voice carrying a tone of genuine concern. He hands you the steaming mug, his eyes locked on yours, awaiting your answer. Mr. Potter was clearly worried, and the concern was etched all over his face. 
"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor?" Your words come out weak and hoarse, but you manage to get the message across. "No, I just... I feel dizzy, and my head hurts," you say, closing your eyes, hoping for the room to stop spinning.
He rushes to your side, helping you sit up, before gently stroking your hair back from your forehead, "Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe?" You can't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest as his hand brushes the hair away from your face. It's clear he is genuinely concerned and wants to help, his voice full of warmth and compassion. His cologne is strong and masculine, filling your nostrils with an addictive and sophisticated aroma. 
You sit up a bit, taking a sip of the tea and nibbling on the toast. The toast is warm and buttery, and the tea is soothing and calm. The warm brew soothes your throat and warms your insides, bringing a sense of calm and peace that you desperately need. 
James smiles back, "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like anything else? Some fruit maybe, or some more tea? I just want to make sure you're comfortable." 
"I’m good," you say, smiling for the first time in what feels like forever. "Thank you."
Suddenly, James's words cut through the silence of the room and catch your attention. "Is everything all right, darling?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and of what he was going to ask. "Sure, of course," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. 
“Are you okay? really?”
"Just some work-related stress." 
James's gaze was focused on you, his face a picture of concern. "Well, if you ever do need anything, I'm here for you," he assured you, his voice soft and comforting. He meant it and you were grateful for his support. You were touched by his kindness. “Thank you, Mr–”
“James..please. Call me James.”
"Thanks, James," you replied, a small smile crossing your face. "That means a lot." James smiled back, his eyes warm and full of compassion. "Of course," he said. The sound of the ticking clock abruptly shattered the stillness of the room, causing you to gasp as you suddenly remembered the passing of time. "Shoot!" you exclaimed, frantically throwing the quilt aside and hastily placing the tea on the nearby tray. "I've got to go!" you added, your voice laced with urgency.
James stood up, bewildered by the sudden change in your behaviour. “Why? Is something wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, worry clearly etched on his face. “It’s eleven! Why didn’t you wake me?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with shock as you began frantically running around the room. As you scrambled to find your shoes, James watched with wide-eyed confusion, asking, “What’s going on? I’m so lost.”
"It's eleven! Everything is probably already closed now!" you said, desperation and panic evident in your voice as you searched for your shoes. Suddenly, you noticed that James was holding them, and you immediately let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you so much!" you said, taking them from him. 
"Is Anders still here?" You asked as you hurriedly put your shoes on. The sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the sound of James taking a nervous step forward. “Uhm no, he usually leaves at ten,” James replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “You sigh in defeat and throw yourself back on the bed. Can I ask why?” he continued, taking another step closer, his eyes searching your face as you covered it with your hands. “I was going to ask him if he could give me a ride,” you answered, your voice shaking.
"I told Anders you could stay for the night." James stated, a slight edge to his voice as he backed up a step. You bolted upright, eyes widened in horror. "No!" you cried, your words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "No, no, no, no! I can't stay here. The others, they..." Your words trailed off, the image of their judgmental frowns dancing behind your closed eyelids, threatening to send you spiralling into a coma before you could even finish the thought. 
Despite your protests, James stood firm, his eyes blazing with determination. "You're staying here," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument. Taken aback by the suddenness of the force of his tone, you froze, your mind racing as you tried to guess at his intentions.
With a heavy sigh, James continued, his voice softer now as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look, I understand that this isn't ideal. But I promise you, you're safe here.”
"I- I’m fine," you stutter out, your voice barely louder than a whisper at his words, at the sweetness of it at the concern stretched between his eyebrows. James' eyes widen as he takes in your words, and for a moment there is a tense silence between you. But he quickly recovers, and his expression becomes determined.
"Then at least let me drive you home."
You are struck dumb by these words, and you don't move for a moment as you try to process what is happening. But before you have a chance to respond, James has taken your arm and is leading you rapidly towards the door. He's not waiting for an answer, he's making a decision for both of you.
And less than five minutes later, you find yourself standing outside, feeling the cold air brush against your skin. The night is quiet, truly silent. You can’t even hear the sound of traffic with how far you are from the town. You look up at the sky and at the stars, how they’re sprinkled like paint over a black canvas. The sound of an engine in the distance breaks your trance and you look down meeting the bright light shining from a car.
The sleek black car glides into the driveway, its exhaust leaving a faint smell of fuel in the air. You watch as James climbs out of the driver's seat and walks us to you. He has his hands placed under both your arms, steadying you as though he was afraid you would roll down the stairs without his support.
He walks you to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. Your gaze is pulled back to the car itself, and you can't help but marvel at its beauty - it's like nothing you've ever seen before and probably at the cost of your entire apartment building itself. James seems to notice your fascination, and he gives you a small smile.
“It’s cold.” He whispers and you snort as you bow your head, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you enter the car and close the door behind you. The car's interior is warm and comfortable, and you sink into the soft leather seats with a sigh of relief. James enters, sending you the most adorable of smiles, as he pulls away from the extravagant driveway. You watch the streetlights fly by through the window, feeling a sense of disorientation as the world around you blurs.
"Are you ok?" James asks, breaking the silence. His voice is low and concerned, and you can hear the worry in his words. You nod, not trusting yourself to speak, and he reaches across the car to pat your leg reassuringly, giving you a gentle squeeze. It's a small gesture, but it makes you feel a little better. You sit in silence as James drives, the only noise coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal. The tension between you is palpable, and you wonder what James is thinking. Is he as nervous as you are? Is he trying to work out what to say to you?
James seems to sense your unease, and he breaks the silence with a sudden question. "So... What really happened today?" he asks, his voice low and curious. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.
"I don't know," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. "I found out about something and I just…" James nods, as if he understands. "I can understand that," he says, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Sometimes life can be a little overwhelming, can't it?"
You nod, feeling a sense of thankfulness towards him for understanding. "Yes, it can be. Sometimes it feels like everything is just a little too much."
"I know what you mean," James says softly. "But you need to remember you're not alone. That there’s someone there, y’know. And if you ever feel overwhelmed…you can..come to me." You pull your head away from the window and face James with parted lips. His eyes seemed to be just as shocked as you are as he stared at you. He quickly faces the road once more and pulls in a deep breath. “Thank you.” You say into the silence and you see the corner of James’ lips rise.
You can't help but feel a sense of relief at his words, a feeling that he might be someone you can really trust. It's a small comfort, but in that moment, it means the world to you.
Half an hour later, you find yourself pointing towards a building in the distance. The street is quiet and lifeless, with only a few distant lights to break the darkness as James parks the car in front of the tall building. You're not sure what to say, how to express the feelings that are swirling inside you. 
"Come on," he says, "Let's get you inside." You want to object but the warmth from the touch of his hands is addicting. It has you leaning on him as leading you towards the building. “Do you want me to help you up?” He asks and you stare at him with furrowed brows, parted lips and eyes heavy with sleep. You nod and James doesn’t even hesitate to have his arms wrapped around you as he helps you up each step, patient and alert as he guides you up the stairs and carries your weight.
However, he seems awkward now that you're outside the door to your apartment, it’s silent, and there’s no other sound than the rattling of your keys as you turn them and unlock the lock. “Wait here.” You say, and James blinks for a moment in confusion, tilting his head to the side before nodding, watching as you walk in and leave him outside. He’s nervous and sweaty, and he reeks of anxiety as he bounces his leg, rehearsing what he’s trying to say. When your door opens once more, you’re in a robe and holding a small transparent box of what looks like doughnuts.
“A thank you.” You say and James involuntarily smiles at the gift, shaking his head. “Can’t take it,”
“Why not?” You ask and there is a dopey smile on your face as you lean against the door frame. “Don’t deserve it.” He says and you snort, rolling your eyes and you push the box between his hands. “If you don’t take it, you’re practically insulting me and I don't think you can be mean to someone who was sick.”
“You passed out, out of stress and not illness.” He says grinning and you feel butterflies fluttering or biting in your stomach as he leans a hand on the door, so that his face is much closer to yours. “Same thing. Take the doughnuts, Potter, and say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.” You respond, taking a step closer and matching his smile. 
James takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on the back of it, “Thank you.” He says and you immediately feel all hot and fluttery. It’s like you're wearing hundreds of layers of clothes on the hottest day of summer.
“You’re welcome.” You breathe out and even though the conversation is over, you both still stand there like birds on a traffic stop waiting for the other to say or do something.
For a moment, the silence is awkward, and you're not sure of what action to take. But then, James takes a deep breath and starts to speak.
His voice is low and somewhat trembling, his previous confidence turning to water as he stands tall once more; but he still speaks clearly and directly. You subconsciously stand straight as well, feeling as though this conversation was going to be serious.
"Y/n... I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I don't know why, but for some reason, I just can't stop thinking about you."
You listen intently, trying to process what he's saying. He leans down, placing the treats you gave him gently on the ground and You have no idea what's coming next, but then he surprises you by taking your hand in his. Your eyes grow wide and you can’t help but feel dumb and speechless as you stare at your joined hands. James looks at you, his expression serious and determined but there is a nervousness hiding behind his glasses. He takes a deep breath and then asks, "Would you go out with me, Y/n?...On a date?"
You're taken aback by the suddenness of the question, but you find yourself nodding slowly. "Yes," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'd like that." You can see the relief and happiness spread across James' face, and he gives you a warm smile. "Great!" he says, his voice full of anticipation. "I was hoping you'd say yes. You’re off on Tuesday’s, right? I’ll pick you up from here at 6?" He asks and you nod again, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness spread throughout your body. For the first time today, you feel like there just might be hope for the future. “That sounds great.” 
As James takes another step towards you, you start to feel a mixture of excitement and unease. You want to be close to him, you do, you really do, but you also feel like you're on the edge of a cliff, like one wrong move could send everything tumbling down. The looks of your colleagues flash in front of you, and you involuntarily take a step back.
James senses your apprehension, and he stops in his tracks. He looks at you with a mixture of concern and understanding, as if he knows exactly what you're feeling.
"Is something wrong?" he asks gently.
You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. "I don't know," you say, your voice a screen to your worries. "I just feel... I don't know. Like this is all too much and…too fast, like I may not be ready for this type of thing." You're suddenly aware of your rushed agreement to his proposal, and the butterflies that were once in your stomach turn to poisonous snakes.
James nods, "That's ok," he says quietly. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can take it slow, if that's what you want."
For a moment, there is silence between the two of you, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and possibility. And then, before you know it, James is closing the distance between you once again, his fingers brushing against yours, his face just inches away from yours. You think that he might kiss you and you're not sure of what you’re feeling but you’re sure of the desire, the craving for his touch but at the same time the logical part of you is yelling for you to pull away to warn you that this was going to burn you in the end.
It's a moment that feels like an eternity and a heartbeat all at once, and just when you think you can't possibly bear it any longer, James leans in and kisses your forehead. It's a soft, gentle kiss, filled with a mixture of hesitance and care, and for a moment, the stress you’ve been carrying the whole day seems to melt away.
As he draws apart, you feel a sense of relief and happiness wash over you, like drinking water after you've just finished a marathon. And as you look into James' eyes, you realise that this is just the beginning of something new and beautiful, something that you'll be discovering together for a long time yet to come.
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Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss @kquil @arctvrvs @loving-and-dreaming @enamoredofbella @astonishment @empath-bunny @white-wolf-buckaroo @semi-tuned
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adharastarlight · 4 months
Text
Tis The Season
One: Advent
The Potter's house on the first of December, after the Black Brothers move in, the found family has me weak so do with that what you will :)
Sirius could hear a commotion from downstairs, it was the chaos that had woken him up. But for once not in a cold sweat, fear crippling his every thought. He woke up to excited chatter downstairs, not muffled sobs or broken cries, pleas for it to stop. He couldn’t place why, after all it was an uneventful day as far as he was concerned. Yet the excited hollering was unmistakable.
He rubbed at his eyes and swung his legs out of bed, checking his calendar once more to ensure he hadn’t somehow missed a birthday. Shrugging he made his way a little down the hall and knocked on his brother’s door, not wanting him to miss any of the excitement.
Regulus opened it after a few ticks of the grand clock at the end of the corridor, “what’re you doing up so early?”
“There’s so much noise downstairs, can’t you hear it?”
“Of course I can.”
“So? Aren’t you curious?” Sirius pressed. He knew Reg hadn’t settled quite as easily as he had, after all James was his friend, but he wanted them to bond. He wanted the two most important people in his life to bond and love each other… or at least to talk for more than a millisecond a day. At this rate, he’d accept a vague conversation about the weather over the brief mutterings and glances he couldn’t figure out the reason for hiding.
“Not especially, no one’s dying, why should I be curious?”
“Reggie! You’re so dull, come on! Come down with me!”
The younger brother sighed but relented, grumbling some form of agreement before shutting his door and re-emerging a few moments later in a jumper that fell to his knees and a pair of fluffy socks. That was one thing Sirius had noticed, Reg had let himself relax with what he wore around the house, likely aided by Euphemia roaming around in her fluffy robe which was apparently inspired by a cat - it had ears, at least. The mixture of the shorts with the jumper fit for an arctic expedition was just so Reggie that Sirius didn’t bother questioning it. Apparently his legs never got cold. It was weird but hey, he was out of his room.
“Finally, you took forever.”
“I took less than two minutes, you’re so dramatic, Sirius.”
He shrugged and bounded the stairs, waiting at the bottom for his brother's more reserved footfall and sighing in a perhaps dramatic manner, “are you being this slow to annoy me?”
Regulus smiled and walked past him, “what was your first clue?”
The older boy groaned and followed him, watching with a slightly smaller smile as Reg’s barriers slowly came back up. The Potters were all sitting in the lounge, chatting, and James had a mug of hot chocolate which had seemingly calmed his excitement slightly. Slightly because he was practically vibrating in his seat.
“Pads! Regulus! Goodmorning!”
“What’s the occasion, Prongs?”
Euphemia smiled at him and shook her head fondly, “it’s the first of December, lovely.”
Sirius raised a confused eyebrow and watched his brother quietly walk to the other side of the room to settle in the chair which was mostly obscured from view, almost unnoticed by the others. “So?”
“So! We get our advent calendars! Come on, Padfoot, you have to know about advent calendars???”
“Uhm-”
“Oh my god, dad this is a tragedy! Mum!”
Fleamont laughed softly and reached into his pocket for the key to the big cabinet which sat in the corner of the room, “do you want to get them, Effie, love, or should I let that bundle of energy do it?”
“And bring the whole house cascading down around him?”
Sirius scanned his best friend again for some kind of clue but other than the broad smile and slightly sad eyes at his confusion, he found nothing of the sort. He chanced a glance at his brother and received merely a small shrug.
“Please? I’ve only knocked over the cabinet like once.”
“Once, he says.” She muttered with a slowly spreading smile before passing him the small brass key.
James beamed at her and flung his arms around her in a quick hug before he bounded up to the cabinet and unlocked the second draw down, apparently knowing the routine by now. The routine for what, Sirius still didn’t know. He pulled out a thin cardboard box that rattled? when he moved it and held it out to him. “Pads, it’s an advent calendar, it won’t explode, I promise. I tried it once and dad spent a week trying to get glitter out of the carpet.”
“Trying and failing,” Fleamont added with a fond exasperation, “if you look closely, there’s still flecks of glitter.”
Sirius smiled and took it, scanning it over, “there’s twenty-four?”
“Yeah! Like the lead up to Christmas! We all have one, mum always gets thorntons, dad is a galaxy man. I got you cadbury like me, since you always steal my chocolate anyway.”
He laughed softly and watched his best friend hand his parents their strange boxes, “so… it’s a countdown of chocolate?”
“Yes, dear.” Effie smiled at his still slightly befuddled expression and popped open her window marked with a small gold One, popping the chocolate into her mouth and nodding at him.
He grinned and scanned his eyes over the cardboard, searching for that One and grinning when he found it, a small italic 1 inside a candy cane. He watched his best friend and Fleamont find their respective boxes before uncovering the chocolate himself. Sirius didn’t think chocolate had ever been better than this, than the family who had invited him in without a thought. “Someone needs to tell Moony about this. He’d go mental.”
James snorted, “he probably already knows but why don’t you call him anyway?”
He blushed slightly at the sing-song tone and swatted him away as he walked into the kitchen where the phone was. Not that he was excited to talk to Remus, of course not, he was just… happy and Prongs was being ridiculous. It’s not like he liked Remus… maybe.
Regulus observed from his corner, as Euphemia and Fleamont started chattering about getting a move on breakfast, as his brother dialled the phone with a slightly flustered giggle. He was used to observing these moments, Mr and Mrs Potter didn’t seem to question that he was far more reserved than his brother, and usually let him decide how involved he’d be and once Sirius was assured he was safe, he let himself be dragged into the family. He didn’t mind being the observer, he was content with watching the dancing smiles and swatting hands which always landed softly, met with laughter and good hearted bickering.
Observing the family his brother had somehow found was probably his favourite thing to observe. Except Potter, James Potter who was currently walking towards him with his hands behind his back and a slightly unsure smile.
“Regulus?”
He looked up at him, as if he hadn’t been staring and raised his eyebrows in question, “yes?”
“I got you lindt, because, well, you have it quite a bit. And the picture was pretty too and-”
Reg cut him off with a slightly unsure quaver to his voice, one which was far softer than the brunette had heard him speak before, “you… you got me one?”
“Of course, Regulus, you’re part of the family, too, you know?”
“I- thank you.” He took the calendar from him, ignoring that his hands were shaking slightly.
“Don’t be silly, Reggie, it’s just some chocolate.”
What he didn’t know, Regulus supposed, was that it was far far more than chocolate. He didn’t say that though, he wouldn’t dare. Instead he merely smiled and inclined his head in a small nod, “well, thank you anyway.”
James shrugged and stepped back as if to move away and join the thrum of life that was merely a few feet away from them. And then he paused again, “do you want to help me with the lights? Dad said I can do them this year, the ones outside the front.”
“Oh, uhm, sure.”
“Great! We should get you a Christmas jumper for when we put up the tree tonight.”
Reg rolled his eyes with a smile, popping out his chocolate and placing it onto his tongue as he contemplated that, “I don’t do Christmas, Potter.”
“You’ll get there. You’d make a cute elf.”
He gaped at him as the brunette dodged his incredulous kick and gently placed down the calendar before bolting after the figuring retreating down the hallway, “take it back!”
“Nope! Cute elf!”
“Potter!”
James grinned at him and maybe it was the lights he had just bundled into his arms or maybe it was that damned smile but the holiday season was slowly seeming to be a little brighter. Even if he had to blame the cold for the pink tint to his cheeks and swat at the fool’s chest every time he said the same two blasted words, “cute elf.”
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Text
"James looks into the angel's eyes and knows the angel means the promise and isn't being a sneaky little liar. James smiles, pleased. "I'm going to keep you." "
And
""I have to tell you a joke," James says, and the angel blinks at him, then arches an eyebrow. "I need you to laugh."
"James—"
"What did the big flower say to the little flower?"
The angel glances over at the best friend, and the best friend is stifling laughter, and then the angel focuses on James again. The angel indulges him. "I don't know. What did the big flower say to the little flower?"
"Hey there, bud," James tells him, and the mother laughs, and the father laughs, and the best friend laughs, but the angel does not laugh. No, the angel only reaches up to grab his hand, gently pressing a smile to his knuckles. It's a small smile. Lips of an angel. Sweet. James wants to put his mouth on it, and stick his fingers in it, but he's also sad because the angel didn't laugh. "You were supposed to laugh. I told a flower joke. It was funny, and you like flowers.""
High James is just fabulous and I love it he's so cute
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reggies-fake-horcrux · 8 months
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james "how does he sleep at night, mama the nerve of this guy to leave me so easy. am I gonna be alright?" Potter to his mom after regulus broke up with him
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