#hp x reader

[sunnami]

❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders x reader. (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

“MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.” 

You blink. 

“Get the fuck out of my room!” 

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making. 

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls. 

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!” 

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze.  Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!” 

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly. 

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.” 

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.” 

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say. 

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies. 

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”  

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.” 

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—” 

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.” 

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you. 

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”) 

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—” 

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?” 

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.” 

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?” 

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.” 

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.” 

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home. 

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)  

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that. 

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”) 

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.” 

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze. 

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.” 

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much. 

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile. 

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.” 

“I know.” Harry grins. 

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.” 

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally. 

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.” 

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)  

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow. 

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers. 

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.” 

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.” 

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you. 

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast. 

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.) 

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?” 

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.” 

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you. 

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.” 

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze. 

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.” 

“Oi!” 

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.” 

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.” 

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary. 

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.” 

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”) 

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.” 

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.” 

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!” 

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?” 

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically. 

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name. 

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now. 

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?” 

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.” 

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right? 

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.” 

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily. 

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.” 

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.” 

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable. 

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced. 

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear. 

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.” 

Harry’s eye twitches. 

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.” 

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly. 

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.” 

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?” 

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.” 

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.” 

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.” 

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading. 

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands. 

“In your dreams!” You shrill. 

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.” 

Harry nods. “Is it time already?” 

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.” 

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?” 

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?” 

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.” 

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?” 

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?” 

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat. 

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.” 

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this. 

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes. 

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.” 

“One date, then.” 

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?” 

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.” 

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.” 

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you. 

“And I want to—” 

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.” 

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—” 

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.  

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration. 

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases. 

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words. 

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.” 

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.” 

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.) 

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance. 

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.” 

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm. 

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.” 

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.” 

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.” 

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth. 

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it. 

He falls in love.) 

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.” 

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?” 

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.” 

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.” 

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.” 

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.” 

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

[bookishdreamer28]

Height difference

I hope you'll like it 👐

Mattheo is obsessed with the way his body is towering over yours. He has found himself thinking of how you'd perfectly fit in his arms many times and he can't help but feel his whole body getting hot at the very thought. From the very first moment Theodore introduced you to their group, he was instantly besotted. He was entirely mesmerized by you.

Every time you wanted to grab something that was out of your reach, he was standing closely behind you just to help you, but in reality all he wanted was to feel your small frame against his. And when you look up at him all puppy-eyed, with those eyes, he knew he was down bad already. And he knew he had fallen deeply for you.

He loved teasing you cause your reactions to his teasing were absolutely worthwhile. Seeing your flustered face was something he adored.

-

"How you're doing shorty?" He said in his baritone voice and it took everything in you not to punch the smugness off of his face.

"Stop calling me shorty" you tried look mad and scary with your angry expression but Mattheo wanted to just grab your face and kiss the shit out of you.

"Ok then how about...pixie-"

"NO!" You exclaimed and walked away from him, not being able to stay any longer around his presence but one thing you didn't notice, was Mattheo laughing quietly behind you because he found your walk absolutely adorable.

-

When he gets to hug you, that's when he feels like his heart will burst out. It's the way you snuggle your head in his chest, the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, and the warmth that instantly engulfing him when he feels your heart beating against him. Everything about this feeling is perfect. You just fitted perfectly.

-

His most fave thing about your height difference, is when you tip toe every time you want to kiss him. He's just standing there, the corner of his lips curving upwards displaying a cheeky smile on his face as he watches you struggling while you're trying to give him a kiss.

"You know you can lean down a bit right? I can't do all the work here" you frowned as you looked up at him. He pinched you cheek softly and traced his thumb in soft circles there.

"Yeah but you have no idea how adorable you l- ouch!" You slapped his hand.

"Now, don't make me bend your head down here by force"

"I would gladly let you love" he chuckled and you smirked as you placed your forehead on your palm, sighing.

"Enough with the teasing Riddle, now kiss me" you looked up again, waiting for his lips to finally crush on yours. He felt his heart pounding like crazy against his chest.

He laughed and instead of leaning his head down, he crouched down and scooped you up into his arms, your legs wrapped around his waist and he placed one hand under your thigh and the other around your waist. Kissing you was earth-shattering. The fieeling of your soft lips locking with his, was something he has been craving for so long.

Once you pulled away, you expected him to put you down but he still held you tight against him.

"Will you put me down now?" You tried to fight back a smile as you felt his hold becoming a bit tighter, his locked on you the whole time.

"Nope, I love having you like this love" he murmured against your lips and you giggled as you once again captured your lips together in a kiss which caused your eyes to flutter close and enjoy the feeling.

Thank you for reading!!

[ginevrapng]

I have this kinktober idea! It's okay if you don't want to do it though. Poly!marauders waking you up by eating you out

it's a sunday so your plan is to have a lie-in and you've woken up earlier than you thought with your dream interrupted. your eyelids are heavy and you blink slow as you wake up slowly. a low moan escapes your lips as you feel one of your boyfriends under the duvet. "fffuck," you moan, your hand flies under the cover to lift the duvet off to find james between your thighs. your hands grab james' hair, he groans as you pull his hair and you feel the vibrations of the noise hitting your clit.

"you finally awake sweetheart?" he mumbles against you. you wonder how long he's been going down on you but that thought is interrupted by him pushing two fingers inside your entrance and simultaneously sucking your clit. you loudly gasp and pull his hair harder.

the door to the bedroom opens and you see sirius looking down at you both and smirking, previously unaware of the morning activity you and james were up to. "well, well, well. what do we have here? moony come in here real quick."

remus enters the room with a cup of tea in his hand looking at sirius before he notices james between your thighs. james places a gentle kiss on your clit before removing himself and looking at the other boys. both of you look like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't be doing. "we didn't tell you to stop, did we prongs?" remus says as places his mug on the side and moves over to both of you, sitting behind you on the bed.

sirius moves next to james, opening your thighs wider, placing a kiss behind james' ear and then your inner thigh. everyone starts moving like clockwork, touching everywhere. sirius starts stroking james' dick causing him to whine, which then causes your moans to get louder. remus and you kiss for awhile before he decides he would prefer to hear the pretty noises you're making so he removes himself and starts kissing your neck, leaving some marks and hickeys. out of everyone remus is the most possessive, always wanting everyone to know you belong to him, that's why you, james and sirius always have at least one hickey visible, even more so when it's close to the full moon. remus plays with your nipples and pinches them while sirius does exactly the same to james.

you end up spending the whole morning in bed not leaving until the afternoon.

[beingsuneone]

I BET You Think About Me

SYNOPSIS: being Theo’s girlfriend is a dream… until you find out why he asked you out in the first place.

FANDOM: Harry Potter

PAIRING(S): Theodore Nott x fem!reader

RATING: PG

CHARACTERS MENTIONED: Enzo, Blaise, Draco, Mattheo, Pansy, Snape

GENRE/AU: Snape’s Daughter!Reader, Asks you out cause of a bet, kind of angsty, kind of fluffy, slytherin!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: swearing and kissing.

A/N: agh. It’s 3 in the morning. Enjoy. May have a tiny bit of pacing issues but it’s fine

DEDICATIONS: the polls who decided they wanted Theo while I decided I was gonna post Mattheo and Rhysand instead.

CREDITS: n/a

…Six Months Ago….

——————————————————————————

“You can’t do it, Theo.” Draco says plainly. “If she’s anything like her father she won’t be able to feel that kind of emotion.”

Theo shakes his head. “She’s still a girl.”

Mattheo snorts, Enzo sputters. “That’s a bit sexist, Theo.” Enzo says, looking over at Y/n L/n.

She’s Severus Snape’s daughter and completely untouchable. Theo hasn’t seen a single guy going out with her in the whole six years they’d been at hogwarts.

That might be because of her father.

“Draco’s right.” Mattheo says. “She’ll never fall for you.”

“I’m gonna prove you guys wrong and you’re gonna owe me a shit ton of money for it.”

…. One Month Ago ….

——————————————————————————

Mattheo stares at you as you walks away. “Damn, I guess you were right.” Both him and Draco reach for their wallets but Theo waves them off.

“I don’t want it— any of it.” It felt for him wrong to take the money from the bet. Theo had fallen for you just as hard— if not harder— as you’d fallen for him.

Hell, Theo would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked him.

“What do you mean?” Blaise asks incredulously. “You won the bet.”

Theo furrows his eyebrows. “Whatever, I don’t want the money.”

They all stare at him.

One, two, three minutes of silence before Mattheo blurts out: “Oh my god. Theo fell for her.” He starts to laugh, and the other boy's eyes widen.

“Wow. That’s a little bit pathetic, Theo.” Draco teases.

Pansy slides in beside Blaise. “Wow. Famous playboy Theodore Nott fell for someone?” She snickers. “Who?”

Theo deadpans. “What do you mean who?” You are Pansy’s roommate after all, Pansy should better than anybody.

Her face falls. “You don’t mean y/n. do you?” Theo nods and she gives him an exasperated look. “Theo! You literally only dated her to win a bet!”

“Yeah, I know!” He retorts. A beat of silence, then, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

“You have to tell her.” Enzo cuts in. “If you truly like her, it isn’t something you can keep secret.”

Theo nods his head absentmindedly. “I know, I know. I’ll tell her soon.”

He didn’t want his new relationship to end before it ever began.

….Present….

——————————————————————————

Today, you woke up late, stubbed your toe on your bed and then spent the ten minutes you had to get ready looking for your damned potions book.

When you’d finally found it, threw on your uniform and got your hair into some sort of presentable, you rushed out your dorm and down the hallways as fast as your feet would take you.

Your class was on the opposite side of Hogwarts and you were already ten minutes late.

In your haste, you aren’t watching for other people in front of you and run straight into someone.

“I’m so sorry!” You exclaim frantically, picking up your books as she picks up hers.

She looks familiar but you don’t know her name.

“No, it’s okay— Oh.” Her faces twists into a scowl when she meets your gaze. “You’re Theo’s ‘Girlfriend’” she airquotes as she says ‘girlfriend’, causing you to narrow your eyes at here.

You furrow your eyebrows. “Uhm, yeah, I am. Why did you say it like that?”

She crosses her arms. “Because you and I both know that he doesn’t actually like you. You’re not his girlfriend.”

“And who, exactly, are you?” You ask, annoyance settling in your chest.

She looks down at you, a cocky expression written on her face. “You should probably just stay away from him, you know that, right?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really, he’s going to be mine so I don’t even know what you’re doing.” She waves you off, as if she truly believes this.

You shuffle your books around in your arms and shift your weight into your other leg. “You do know that you’re not his girlfriend, right?”

“Whatever.” She shrugs, and you still don’t know her name. “Doesn’t matter if he calls you his girlfriend, it’s not like you’re a threat anyway.”

What does she mean ‘not a threat’? You feel like that’s a sentence better used to describe her considering, you’re Theo’s actual girlfriend. “What is that supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously but still relatively calm.

She gives you a mock sympathetic expression. “Oh, Sweetheart,” She starts, taunting you with each syllable. “You didn’t really think someone like Theo would settle down for someone like you… do you? I mean, he’s all parties and good times and you’re… well, you can’t even dress yourself properly.”

She looks you up and down, from your half-untucked uniform shirt to your loose tie and your unwrinkled skirt. You’re not usually this messed up. “Clearly, I do, because he did.” You pause, sigh deeply and roll your eyes. “Why am I even entertaining this conversation?” You turn away from her, preparing to tune her out and walk away.

She tuts, shaking her head. “Because you obviously know you mean nothing to him— after all when your relationship starts with a bet, I don’t think it’s ever been super stable.”

This makes you stop and turn back to her. “A bet?” You say it slowly and the words taste awful on your tongue. “What bet?”

She scoffs-laughs and smiles evilly. “Oops, did I say too much?”

Theo chooses this moment to walk up behind the two of your . He slides his hand around my waist, letting it rest there as he stands beside me. “Are you okay? You’re super late.” He asks, looking you over. His eyes flit over to the girl who was talking to you and his nose scrunched. “Why are you talking to Tracey?”

Tracey, that’s her name.

I don’t think he likes her too much.

Tracey opens her mouth to respond but I cut her off and begin dragging Theo away. “I don’t even know, Theo, let’s go.”

I can feel Tracey’s glare until we’re well out of her line of sight.

Jealous.

……

You can’t get Tracey’s words out of your head. You know it was a tactic to rile you up and, you suppose, it worked but you had this horrible feeling that maybe she wasn’t lying.

Asking Theo about it though? That was hard; you didn’t want him to think you didn’t trust him but you also didn’t want to get upset before you knew whether it was true or not.

You decided to ask one or two other people before Theo. Pansy Parkinson, was first. She’s been your friend since first year but she hung out with Theo’s group long before you ever did.

“Hey, Pansy.” You say airily. She looks up at you and smiles.

The bed creaks as you fall down onto it and sigh. “Can I ask you a random question?” You ask, fidgeting with the corner of your blankets.

She looks up at you expectantly but also with a good deal of worry. “Yeah, of course; What’s up?”

She shifts in her spot at the end of her bed, turning her full attention to me.

“Did you ever… I don’t know,” you stop, trying to find the correct words. “Did you ever hear anything about Me, Theo and a bet? While you were, like, hanging out with them.”

Pansy looks down at your fidgeting fingers and then furrows her eyebrows. She thinks about it for a minute, and her face drops so slightly I almost don’t catch it. “Oh, y/n…” she trails off. “He didn’t tell you?”

Every muscle in your body locks up. “He didn’t tell me what?” You don’t think you really want the confirmation now that you know it’s coming.

Pansy stands and then sits down next to you and pulls you into her in a side hug. “When Theo started trying to get with you it was because of a bet.” She stops but you just gesture for her to continue. “… I wasn’t actively apart of this conversation so I only got the gist of it but I was there.”

“What was the bet.” You say, with your eyes hot and your throat restricted. Your tone makes it seem like it wasn’t a question.

“The boys bet him that he couldn’t make the next woman he saw fall in love with him by the end of the year.” She gives your a sad smile. “I guess the next woman was you.”

What. The. Fuck. You’re gonna kill him, because he obviously won that goddamn bet already. You give Pansy a quick squeeze and then stand up. “I need to go talk to him.”

Pansy nods and walks back to her own bed, waving bye as you walk through the door.

Your vision is a bit blurry and your hands are shaking with betrayal and anger as you storm away from the girl’s dorms and right through the common room to the boy’s dorms.

When you reach his door, you knock loudly, despite it being late.

Draco answers. He looks you up and down and then turns his back halfway to you. “Theo, your girlfriend is here.”

Theo appears a moment later, an easy smile and his piercing eyes that you want to love so badly right now. He gently moves you back a bit and steps out of the dorm. “Hey, Baby, what’s up?”

You shudder at the pet name and his face drops. “Oh, I don’t know, Theo.”

He pulls you to the other side of the hall and keeps his hands on your arms, comforting both yourself and him. “What’s wrong? Did somebody do something to you?”

The worry on his face seems so genuine, you almost want to believe the bet was a lie— but you’re not that stupid.

“Yeah, Theo, someone hurt me.” You pause. “It was you and your fucking bet.”

He freezes. “Shit. Who told you about that?”

You don’t want to— no, you can’t look in his eyes. “That girl, Tracey, and then Pansy filled in the finer details.” You’re arms are crossed now and he can’t hold you like he was before. “Is that seriously the only thing you care about right now— actually, obviously it would be because I’m just a bet, right?”

He opens his mouth to speak but you don’t let him. “Actually,” you continue. “I don’t want to hear it— just, have a good life, Theo. I’d say we’re over but I don’t think we really ever started to begin with.”

You walk away before you second-guess yourself and ignore as he calls your name. He doesn’t run after you, which you’re equally glad for and disappointed by.

God, you don’t think your heart has ever hurt this bad.

…..

You haven’t seen Theo in class for the whole week after you ‘broke up’; you’ve seen glimpses of him outside, always smoking, or eating in the Great Hall but it’s like he’s intentionally missing every class you have together.

He probably is.

He shouldn't have that right. You’re the one who gets to avoid him, he doesn’t get to avoid you.

You’re the one who got played like a violin and ended up battered and bruised.

You don’t see him for most of your days, but, when you do— when you look at him, his eyes are always already on you.

As a result the other Slytherin boys glance at you while he stares, because of how intensely he does so. You can feel his eyes burning holes into you at all times.

You try your best to ignore him as you stand to leave the Great Hall.

A boy stops you near the entrance, you think you recognize him. He’s the same year as you, and pretty nice as far as you know. His name is Lucas, you’re pretty sure.

“Hey.” Lucas says warmly. “How are you?”

He’s a bit close, and you’re sort of backed into the wall. You laugh awkwardly. “I’m alright, um, how are you?”

He smiles. “About the same,” he looks behind him and then back at you, same easy-going smile that isn’t easy the way Theo’s is. “Anyways, I was wondering… since you broke up with Nott, maybe you’d wanna go out sometime? With me?”

“She doesn’t.”

Lucas’s shoulders jump at the sound of Theo’s voice and he backs away from you and spins to look at Theo, whose standing there with a dangerous look on his face.

You glare at him. “Maybe I do want to.” It’s a challenge and Theo knows it.

Lucas sputters. “You know, I actually realized I’m busy, so…” he scrambles off after that you’re left with Theo.

You scowl at him. “Theo, what the fuck?”

“He’s not good enough for you.” He shrugs like he knows what’s good enough for you. Mr. Bet-Winner.

Your heart aches in your chest just looking at him. “And how would you know what’s good enough for me, Theo? because you sure as hell weren’t.”

He scowls now. “I treated you like you were a fucking princess, Y/n, all he would’ve done was treat you like a piece of ass.”

You huff. “A princess, Theo? None of it was even real!” You spin to walk away but Theo catches your wrist and pulls you back; he slips his other arm around your waist and pulls you right to his chest. Your faces almost touch.

Your breath hitches like the traitor that it is.

He pulls your hand up to rest on his chest, where his heart beats hard and erratically. “Does this feel fake to you?” Theo’s fingers dig lightly into your waist. “Do you honestly think that all of that— everything we said and did— meant nothing?”

His breath fans across your face.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire, and he’s the ice bucket that can save you— but your pride and anger are like the fires of hell; irreparable.

“You took a bet to make me fall for you, Theo, and lucky for you, you won it. How much was I worth, huh?”

He replies almost instantly. “I didn’t take any money, Y/n.” Theo breathes deeply and you feel his chest rise and fall, forcing yours to do the same.

“You— what?” You can feel your resolve cracking, the hope leaking through that somehow you were wrong.

“Let me explain the full story.” He waits for you to give him confirmation; you nod and he continues. “Yes, it started with the bet, and yes, I had never planned for it to last. It was cruel and mean, and I’m sorry. But the thing is, I didn’t anticipate that I would end up falling in love with you right back.” The words feel like a kick to the heart.

“But, on the other hand, how could I not? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen and you’re intelligent and funny, you laugh at all my stupid jokes. You love potions more than any other class and you’re really good at it too.” He stops. “Y/n, you’re perfect and I’m so, so sorry I never told you— or, even worse, that I did it in the first place.”

Your heart skips several beats. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Oh.” You’re at a loss for words.

He just looks you over, trying to assess what’s running through your mind like he always does. “Please forgive me, Y/n. I love you so much it hurts.”

You pull away from him and he reluctantly lets go, his shoulders sagging in defeat.

“You’re serious?” You ask quietly. “No bets this time? Nothing you haven’t told me?”

He shakes his head, giving you the saddest, puppy-dog look, unintentionally.

You’re silent for another long moment before, finally, you say: “you love me?”

Theo looks into your eyes. “God, yes.”

“Okay.” You say softly.

He straightens. “Okay, you’ll get back together with me or Okay, I don’t forgive you?”

You hold up one finger and he seems to understand because he pulls you back into him so quickly and presses his lips to mine; you kiss him back, and kind of stand there, kissing, for a long moment. Probably longer than you should’ve.

But you wish he never had to stop.

All content belongs to @beingsuneone , do not repost, copy or post on other platforms without my permission.

[theemporium]

Just a thought but Sirius or someone having a thing for you for ages and at some point you finally get together but Remus James and Peter just don’t believe it because you’re so opposite and Sirius just trying to convince them but they don’t believe him until they walk into you kissing or something. Love your work btw <3

kinda changed it to sirius being with someone they never expected but i hope you enjoy it! and thank you!!🖤

.

“Pads is dating her?!”

Remus and James stood in front of Peter, lips parted in shock at the rumour that just left their friend’s lips. They had been in the common room, respective textbooks sprawled around them when Peter came rushing in, eyes wide and cheeks flushed at what he had just seen.

At first, they thought their friend was taking the piss and waited for Sirius to jump out from the shadows with a grin on his face, claiming it was all a prank. But no Sirius had appeared and Peter kept talking and—fuck, they just couldn’t quite believe it.

In all honesty, it was shocking enough that Sirius had settled down with one person, let alone that he was dating you of all people. 

You stood for everything they assumed their friend hated, purely because you would’ve been Walburgha Black’s number one choice to marry her eldest son off with. 

You were raised with the pureblood etiquette, speaking prim and proper and not even allowing yourself to use slang as you spoke. You were a Slytherin, and proud to be so. You were crazy smart and you were the image of pureblood royalty, though the cold shoulder you usually gave people and the snarky attitude didn’t exactly make it easy for even those with a pureblood complex to approach you. 

Even if for some bizarre reason their friend had fallen for you, the fact that you liked him back was shocking enough to keep both boys seated on the couch as Peter retold the story for the thirteenth time. 

“I’m calling bullshit,” James said with a shake of his head. “This must be some elaborate prank he’s pulled off.”

“And what? Got her involved?” Remus asked. 

“Maybe it’s someone with a polyjuice potion,” Peter supplied. 

“Or maybe Pads is actually dating her,” Remus said before his nose scrunched up. “Yeah no, he’s definitely up to something.” 

It took less than five seconds to work out where Sirius was with the help of the map that was quickly shoved in their pocket as all three boys began rushing towards the courtyard, so sure that whatever Peter had seen had to be false. 

Because there was no fucking way that Sirius Black was—

All three boys quickly drew to a stop when they noticed you both. You were sitting on a picnic blanket, leaning back on your hands as you nodded along to something. Sirius, however, had his head propped on your lap, talking away as his hands moved animatedly to the point they could have sworn they saw your lips twitch into a smile. 

“Holy shit,” James gaped at the sight. 

“It could still be a prank,” Remus said, though he didn’t know how much he really believed that himself. 

And just when they thought they couldn’t be shocked any further, you leaned down to press your lips against the wizard, his hand coming to grip the back of your neck as he deepened the kiss. 

“Moony, are you seeing this?” 

“I’m seeing this, Prongs.” 

“Right, great because I think I’m gonna faint.” 

What they couldn’t see was the way Sirius’s lips twisted into a grin as he continued to kiss you, his fingers expertly pulling the clip out of your hair until it cascaded around you both. 

“Your friends are still staring,” you informed him, the words whispered against his lips as you began to pull back but he was quick to chase you. 

“Let them stare all they want, love,” he murmured as his thumb lightly brushed over your thumping pulse. “I bet they are fucking confused.” 

“Such crass language,” you hummed. 

Sirius smirked. “Gonna punish me, love?” 

You shook your head in amusement, pulling back fully despite the way Sirius playfully pouted in response. “You wouldn’t be able to handle my punishments, Black.” 

His eyes gleamed at the challenge. “Is that so?” 

“You are all bark and no bite,” you informed him and the boy was quick to scramble up, his hands darting to your sides as he crawled over your squirming body. 

“I can show you just how hard I bite, love, you just gotta ask.”

.

[moonlightspencie]

only like you can

Description: based on ‘already over’ by sabrina carpenter— ex boyfriend!james and reader just can’t seem to stay away from each other.

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Reader

Warnings: some suggestive content (pg-13 pretty much), angst with a happy ending, lily evans is mean in this one for the plot

Word Count: 7.9k

A/N: aging them up to allow for the suggestive content. they’ll be 19 in this (first year starts at 14 instead of 11)

here’s the playlist

Running through the halls as a first year with your brand new group of friends, you never would imagine you’d end up dating one of them. You definitely never thought you’d have a break-up with one of them.

But, you just had to fall for Jamie in your third year. And he just had to ask you out in fifth. You were blindsided by his confession in the best way, and falling into a relationship with your closest friend was as easy as falling asleep.

Overexcited hugs after he’d win a quidditch game turned into kisses. Whispers of goodnight as you headed off to different rooms turned into sneaking into one another’s beds. The casual ‘I love you’ between friends turned into a kind of love that had both of you thinking about the future.

But, things changed again after a year.

Accusations started getting thrown around left and right. He’d say that you weren’t making time for him anymore. You’d argue that he seemed more interested in spending time with Lily. A back-and-forth would always spread like wildfire until you couldn’t breathe.

The break up was mostly mutual. You said you wanted it to happen, but you knew you were lying to yourself. He agreed, but it was only because he didn’t want you to know he was still invested. It left both of you putting happy faces over broken hearts, agreeing that you’d still be friends despite the fact that you knew you’d never get over him if he stuck around. But, never getting over him still felt better than losing him entirely.

You were sat in the common room, laughing over some dumb joke Sirius had made at Lucius Malfoy’s expense. The fire was blazing, keeping you all warm in the late-autumn that was otherwise freezing. You were next to James on the couch, Sirius was on the floor in front of the fire, and Remus and Peter were in a couple of chairs. It was nice. Cozy. But, coming down from your laughter, you let your head drop to the side, finding a familiar comfort.

Remus looked at you as you did, quirking a brow. You’d landed on James’ shoulder.

“You two back together?” he asked.

“Oh,” you said, quickly lifting your head again. “Sorry, Jamie.”

He shook his head. “It’s alright. Habit.”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

A tense silence fell over the small group. Then, James stood.

“I’m going to grab a sweater. Be right back,” he announced, walking towards the stairs.

You looked after him until he was out of your sight, turning your head to find three pairs of eyes on you.

“Love,” Sirius said cautiously, almost grimacing.

“I know,” you sighed, leaning back into the couch. “I know. I just— It’s hard.”

He sighed, moving from his spot to sit in James’ spot on the couch. He tossed an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you into his side a little.

“Might help if you two quit finding ways to be next to each other every time we go someplace,” he said quietly.

You nodded. “I know.”

“Why did you two break up if you both clearly want to be around each other all the time?” Peter asked, furrowing his brow.

“We weren’t good together.”

The three boys shot each other similar looks, knowing there was nothing they could say to help you in that moment. You merely sighed, staring into the fire as Remus tried to redirect the conversation.

James came back a minute later as they chatted over some fiasco in Potions class, a sour look on his face when he saw Sirius had taken his spot. His brow only set harder when he saw the arm around your shoulders. He sat in another chair, following your gaze into the fire, not wanting to look at his best friend and now-ex-girlfriend practically cuddling. It made him sick.

You didn’t feel much better, noticing him looking so downtrodden and being unable to kiss away that frown of his.

But you had to remind yourself of why you broke up in the first place. ‘It’s for the better’, you kept repeating to yourself in your head, trying to block out how badly you wanted to just talk to him. It was getting ridiculous, you knew that. It didn’t make it any easier, though.

“I think I’m ready for bed,” you mentioned after half an hour of sitting quietly.

A small chorus of ‘goodnight’ followed you to the stairs, and you trudged up to your room, feeling gloomy. You brushed your teeth, washed your face, and pulled on your pajamas. It was days like this that you were glad you got a single room for the year. You settled into your bed, cracking open the book on your nightstand to practice a little escapism. You were two chapters deep when you heard a knock on your door.

You crawled out of bed, rubbing your eyes as you went to open the door. When you pulled it open, your eyes went a little wider.

“Hey,” James said, looking shy.

You swallowed. “Oh. Hi.”

“Could we talk? Please?”

You contemplated it for a moment, trying to tell yourself it was a bad idea. But it was late. And you missed him. And you really didn’t want to turn him away.

“Yeah. Come in,” you said quietly, a small smile on your face.

He walked in slowly, unsure, as if he hadn’t spent the entirety of the past year sneaking in every other day. You looked at his back for a moment, noticing him with his hands up in front of his stomach.

“Don’t pick at your nails, Jamie,” you said, moving around him to sit on your bed.

He chuckled softly. “How’d you know? You couldn’t even see my hands.”

“How wouldn’t I know?”

His smile faded a bit at that. “Right.”

You sat quietly for a minute, practically hearing the gears turning in his head. He stared out the window in your room, his brows a little furrowed.

“What is it, James?”

His eyes snapped to yours. He sighed, looking at your bed.

“Can I sit?” he gestured next to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded, scooting to give him some more room.

He sat, looking around at anything but you.

“What’s up?”

He shrugged. “Uh, I don’t know. It’s probably nothing, you know.”

“You came to talk to me about it.”

“Yeah,” he nodded, chuckling to himself humorlessly. “I don’t want this to come across weird.”

“It’s fine, James. I’m used to you.”

He smiled, though it dropped quickly. “Is there something going on with you and Padfoot?”

Your eyes went wide, a laugh escaping you.

“Excuse me?”

“He took my spot on the couch. Kinda cuddling you.”

“James,” you said, getting his attention. “That’s insane. He sat with me because I was sad. He was being a friend, like every other time he’s hugged me or comforted me.”

He nodded, letting out a breath. “Sorry. Just got a little paranoid, I guess.”

“That’s okay. I get it.”

He swallowed. “Do you not want to be around me?”

“Why would you ask that? We agreed to be friends after…”

“I know, but I just don’t know how to act around you now.”

You took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to do this, either. We’re in a weird place, now.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out.

You looked at him for a moment, and he shot you another shy smile. It was strange to see him so timid, but you couldn’t help but smile back. Even acting so strangely, he was still the same old Jamie.

“Is that all? I’m pretty tired.”

He nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’s it. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. It’s okay.”

He started standing, and you walked him to the door. He suddenly pulled you into a hug, holding you tightly to his chest. You leaned into him, relishing in that feeling while you could. He pulled away, opening your door.

“Night, Jamie.”

“Goodnight,” he smiled, not moving.

He quickly leaned down, just barely pressing his lips to yours, but it was enough to send your heart fluttering. He pulled back as quickly as he leaned in, muttering a quick ‘sorry’ before leaving. You shut your door, the tension in your body finally releasing. You fell into a restless sleep that night.

The following week felt as difficult as the first week after the break up. Sirius and Remus would try to comfort you, and Peter would offer silly jokes to stop you from looking so sad all the time.

You’d gone to dinner with Remus and Peter after they’d pleaded with you that night, figuring you still needed to eat despite your feelings. No sense in making yourself feel even worse if you could help it.

Dinner was surprisingly good. You laughed with the two boys, almost forgetting about your troubles as you chatted with them. Until you heard a pretty loud mention of ‘James’ coming from a few people down the table.

You paused, listening when you heard his name come out of Lily’s mouth. You focused hard on your plate, hoping she’d keep up her volume. Yeah, it was probably wrong to snoop, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care all that much.

“… Maybe this weekend,” she said, a few giggles coming from her friends. “He always goes to Hogsmeade on Sunday afternoons.”

“Now that he doesn’t have that girl hanging on him, you actually might have a chance,” one of her friends added in, to which you clenched your jaw in annoyance.

“Maybe. He’s been pretty off since they broke up.”

“Good,” another girl added. “It probably means he needs a reason to move on.”

You decided you’d heard enough, standing from your spot.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked, looking to Remus with a frown.

“Common room. I’ll see you guys soon,” you said, waving a goodbye to both boys.

You were fuming as you walked back to the common room. It hurt more than you thought it would to think about him with anyone else, but especially her. You’d never been too sure about her intentions with the friendship she had with James, and this just solidified your concerns. Not to mention, her friends clearly didn’t like you. You didn’t even know them, and they had to nerve to talk about you like you were merely an inconvenience the whole time. You were stewing in that feeling, trying not to let it affect you too much, and failing miserably. You didn’t even notice your name being called behind you.

“Y/N,” he called again.

You looked up, turning towards James’ voice. His face dropped when he saw you.

“Hey,” he said, rushing forward to you. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head. “Just upset.”

“Why?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

He sighed, leaning over to catch your eye. You chewed on your lip, the pit in your stomach only growing. You couldn’t stop thinking about Lily’s plan for the weekend, especially now that you were face to face with him.

“It matters to me,” he said softly. “Please? I just want to help.”

“You can’t help, Jamie,” you shook your head.

He was silent for a moment, thinking. You fiddled with your hands, looking down at your shoes. He called your name again, quietly, to get your attention. You looked up, heart still fluttering when you looked in his eyes.

“How about we go steal some of Mooney’s chocolate and just sit for a while?” he offered. “Then, maybe we can talk later?”

You couldn’t help but smile a little at the suggestion. You didn’t even think it could be considered stealing anymore. Remus always stocked up extra on his desk, knowing his roommates were prone to grabbing some every now and then.

“I’m taking that smile as a ‘yes’,” he said, a smile growing on his own face. “Come on.”

You walked alongside him as you headed towards Gryffindor tower, holding yourself back from taking his hand. Particularly flexing your self-control muscle when his fingers would brush softly against the back of your hand.

“You know, he just got some with caramel in the middle,” James mentioned as you climbed the stairs.

“Yeah? Are they any good?”

“Mm,” he nodded enthusiastically. “Very. I think you’ll like them.”

You laughed. “Sounds like you do, doesn’t it?”

He snorted a laugh. “How’d you tell?”

“It’s my sixth sense.”

“Sure, it is,” he responded. “I always thought it was knowing when I was picking at my nails.”

“See, that’s just me knowing you after all these years. Bit different.”

He chuckled, saying the password to let you into the common room. The portrait swung open, and he snuck you up to the boys’ shared room.

“Here we are,” he said mischievously, walking towards Mooney’s desk.

You shut the dorm door, walking over as he handed you a few chocolates.

“Thank you.”

“Thank Mooney,” he said, smirking. “Let’s sit. Come on.”

You took a breath, sitting with him on his bed. It all felt okay, until you remembered why you were there in the first place.

You opened the wrapping on one of the chocolates, popping it in your mouth silently. James watched you, sighing softly when you didn’t say anything after a few minutes.

“Don’t like when you’re quiet like this,” he mumbled. “Scares me.”

“Scares you?” you questioned.

“Well, last time you were quiet like this, we had a conversation that…” he shrugged. “It wasn’t very fun, was it?”

You hummed. ‘Not very fun’ was an understatement. The day you broke up, you sobbed until you threw up.

“Sorry,” you said. “I could start yelling if you’d like?”

He laughed. “Don’t think I’d like that much, either.”

You smiled, though it was half-hearted. He could tell.

“You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

You shrugged. “I’ll just have to get over it. I don’t think there’s much to talk about, honestly.”

“Alright,” he conceded. “Would it make you feel better to… I don’t know. Read?”

“You’d read?” you asked, amused.

“No, I’d made you read to me,” he said, nudging your shoulder with his.

“Don’t know if I’m up to that, right now.”

“Later?”

“When?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe tomorrow?”

“What’s today? Friday?”

He nodded. “Yeah.”

You considered it, liking the idea of spending more time with him despite how bad of an idea it was to be alone. Especially after last time.

Then, a worse idea came to mind.

“How about Sunday?”

He raised a brow. “Sunday?”

You nodded. “If that’s okay. I know that’s a Hogsmeade day, but everyone will be out of the castle. We’d get to sit by the fire in the common room. It would be nice and quiet.”

He cracked a small smile. “That does sound nice. Can I pick the book?”

“Of course,” you nodded.

You knew it was a little underhanded, taking him away from Hogsmeade for the day. It was really just a form of delaying the inevitable. He was bound to move on eventually. But why did it have to happen that weekend? He could wait a little bit longer, you reasoned.

Though, you still knew the real reason was that you would do anything to keep him from hanging off of someone else’s lips. You didn’t quite care if it was a bit selfish.

Saturday came and went. Sunday morning you woke up with a small smile on your face. Despite the fact that it may have been a bad idea to set aside alone time with your ex, especially just to get him away from another girl, it felt nice to relish in the familiarity of being with him.

Hours later you were curled up on the couch with James looking over your shoulder as you read to him. He’d make a stray comment here and there about the plot or laugh at the jokes, but was otherwise surprisingly tuned in. You were halfway through when he yawned.

“Tired?” you asked, pausing your reading to look up at him.

“A bit,” he shrugged. “Didn’t sleep much last night.”

“Oh.”

You furrowed your brow as you looked away, then glanced back at him.

“Everything okay?”

He nodded, a smile creeping onto his face. “Just too excited for you to read to me, I bet.”

You chuckled, ignoring the heat in your cheeks as you turned back towards the book, ready to start reading again. Then, he started shuffling around.

“What are you doing?” you asked with a sigh.

“Gonna lay down,” he shrugged, “Can I…”

He paused, scrunching up his face a bit. You watched him, questioning.

“Can you what?”

“Probably a bad idea,” he said shortly, shaking his head.

“Just tell me.”

He looked a little shy as he glanced at you. “Was gonna ask if I could lay on your lap.”

“Oh,” you said, nodding once. “Well, as long as you don’t try any funny business, I don’t see why not. It’s preferable to you putting your feet on me if you lay the opposite way.”

He laughed. “I suppose that’s true.”

He waited another moment, then started laying down, his head resting on your legs. Once he was comfortable, you started reading again. After a while, you weren’t even sure if he was awake anymore.

Even more time passed, and you heard him softly snoring, a smile on your face as you looked down at him, one of his hands having squeezed it’s way under your leg. You ran a hand through his hair absentmindedly, continuing your reading silently.

An hour later and you were finished with the book, your hand still brushing through his hair as a habit. You watched him for a few minutes, letting out a soft breath.

“Jamie,” you called quietly, the hand in his hair moving to brush across his cheek. “James.”

He stirred, groaning. “Mm?”

“You fell asleep,” you said with a grin. “I let you nap for a little over an hour, but if you want to sleep tonight you should probably wake up.”

He grumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand. “Don’t wanna get up.”

“Always so grumpy when you wake up,” you mumbled, more to yourself than anything. “Come on, Jamie. We can go snag some tea or go for a walk or something.”

He sighed softly, stretching out a little bit before he started moving away from your legs, pulling his hand out from under your thigh. He started sitting up, not realizing he was terribly close to you until you were looking at one another, feeling his gentle breathing fan on your face. You swallowed, trying hard not to glance down at the lips you knew were soft and skilled.

He didn’t care to try so hard.

He leaned in before you knew what was happening, kissing you like it was the first time. His hand came up to cradle your face, tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss, his tongue soft against your lip as he waited for you to grant him access. It certainly didn’t take you long to oblige him.

He leaned his body into you, and eventually started pulling you underneath him, your head hitting the couch cushions as he settled in between your legs. It was all desperation and passion as his hand slipped up under your top, brushing over the fabric of your bra to squeeze gently at your breasts. You leaned into his touch, soft noises escaping you and going directly into his mouth.

You felt his chest heaving against your own as you kissed, his hips rolling against you, desperate for friction that he’d missed for so long. Desperate for you.

You bit at his lip, breaking away only to kiss down his jaw. He hummed softly in satisfaction, but grew impatient, moving to capture your lips with his own once again.

It was only when a real moan managed to leave you and linger in the air that his hand stopped groping at you. His lips slowed, and he finally broke away, catching his breath like he’d been underwater.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the words rushed. “I shouldn’t have done that. Again.”

“Not your fault. I kissed you back.”

He chewed at his lip. “We should really stop this before it starts happening more.”

“We should,” you nodded.

He swallowed, eyes roaming over your face. You leaned up, capturing his lips again, this time gently. He allowed it, though this kiss lasted a much shorter time than the previous.

“Maybe we should take that walk,” you said, trying to break the tension.

“Might need to wait a few minutes, love,” he said, not-so-subtly glancing down at his pants.

You laughed, though you felt that funny feeling in your stomach when he called you ‘love’ again. You followed his gaze, raising your brows.

“Yeah. Probably don’t want to go around like that just in case. Not exactly hard to miss,” you snorted.

He rolled his eyes, sitting up straight. You watched him, moving to sit back up yourself. He stared ahead at the fireplace.

“Stop looking at me,” he said, not even glancing in your direction.

“What?” you laughed.

He glanced at you. “It’s not helping my little situation, you know?”

“Me looking at you is making it worse?”

“You existing is hard enough to ignore when I get like this,” he said with a laugh. “Not to mention when you can… You know. See it.”

“Well, I can’t exactly see it. You do still have pants on, you know?”

He chuckled, though he hid his face in his hands as his cheeks turned pink.

“Stop giving me ideas. It’s not fair, love.”

“Alright, alright,” you conceded, ignoring your own… feelings. “I’ll be quiet and look away.”

He nodded, shutting his eyes and letting his head loll back on the couch. You tried hard not to think about how effected he was, and tried even harder not to think about how effected you were. You stared at the window nearest to you, thinking about absolutely anything else. After a few minutes, he sighed.

“Okay. I think I’m good, now.”

You laughed, pulling him off of the couch and pulling on a sweater you’d brought along. You left the common room together, meandering in the halls talking about nothing. Before you knew it, more voices were joining your two in the corridors.

“Oh boy,” you said softly.

“What?”

You looked at James. “You really want to run into our friends right now?”

He hummed, then opened his mouth to speak. Only very briefly, though, as a familiar face came into view.

“James,” Lily beamed, ignoring your presence entirely. “We missed you in Hogsmeade. Why did you stay behind?”

James looked at you, quirking a brow curiously when she said ‘we missed you’. She’d never exactly been in the marauders group during Hogsmeade outings, and both of you knew it.

“Was just busy,” he shrugged.

“Too busy to hang out with us?”

“Who’s ‘us’?” James laughed. “Did you join in with the boys today?”

“No,” she shook her head. “Just… Thought it might be nice if you would have been around so we could have spent some time together.”

You held yourself back from rolling your eyes as she looked at him, twirling her hair almost cartoonishly as she spoke.

“Maybe some other time,” he said simply. “Had more important things to do today.”

“Aw,” she cooed, laughing to herself. “More important than me?”

You chimed in. “Ooh, with an ego like that, maybe you should try spending time with Sirius.”

James snorted a laugh, though Lily didn’t think it was quite so funny.

“At least I’m not hanging off my ex boyfriend.”

You furrowed your brow, ready to throw an insult right back at her.

“Why is that your business?” James said quickly. “We’re still friends. Friends are known to hang out, you know?”

She ripped her sour gaze from you, looking surprised that James would defend you. He didn’t give her time to reply, taking you by the arm and dragging you away from her before you did something he knew you’d regret. You huffed a sigh.

He started walking you towards the kitchens, you were sure, to get you some tea. You crossed your arms when he finally let you go, once again stewing in your annoyance.

“Trouble in paradise?” you asked, seemingly unable to hold your tongue.

“What?”

“Why did you defend me?” you asked. “I thought you and Evans were like… Involved.”

“Why would you think that?” he asked incredulously.

“After everything…” you stopped. “For one, she sure seems to think you’re an item. Or at least that you will be very soon.”

He sighed harshly. “I know you were always on edge about her, but you know I’ve never felt that way.”

“I was right to be on edge.”

“Why? I never would have done anything.”

You shrugged. “Freaked me out how much she liked you. And how much she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, she does. Her friends all gossip about me, you know? Like I’m just some obstacle standing in the way of you two getting together.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

“I heard it, James.”

He paused before you entered the kitchens, his brow set.

“What do you mean?”

You let out a breath. “Promise you won’t be mad at me?”

He merely raised his brows in question, waiting for your explanation.

“They were talking a few days ago during dinner and thought I couldn’t hear them. They were saying that you’d be easy to bag now that I’m not around and you’re, like… emotionally compromised.”

“Emotionally compromised?”

“Not in those words, but… Yeah. That was the jist of it.”

He shook his head. “Why would they say that?”

“Because she’s always been into you, James. It’s why I didn’t like you guys together all the time, it made me feel really insecure.”

He had the decency to look a little guilty before he perked back up.

“Wait, why would I be mad at you for that?”

You sighed, wishing you could avoid this particular bit about what you’d overheard.

“She, uh,” you looked away. “She was planning on making a move on you today. That’s why her friends were talking about you.”

“And?”

“And, I might have asked you to stay behind today because I knew about her plan.”

The wall to the side of you looked very interesting in that moment. So interesting, in fact, that you didn’t notice the smirk on James’ face until he started speaking.

“You made me stay back to read with you so Lily couldn’t try to… what? Stare at me all afternoon?”

You frowned deeper seeing the teasing look on his face.

“She’d probably try more than staring.”

“Oh? What, like snogging on the couch and letting me feel you up? Didn’t want something like that to happen?”

You smacked his arm. “Asshole.”

He shook his head, tucking you under his arm as he ushered you to the doors.

“Can’t believe you sabotaged her.”

“So you think—”

“I think it’s kinda hot.”

You bit back a smirk, shaking your head. “Shut up.”

Almost two weeks later and you felt more down than ever. After your tea, you’d had another conversation about how you really shouldn’t be alone like that. You knew it was for the best, but it still hurt to reinforce the idea that Sunday would be nothing more than a post-break up slip-up. James himself started to say it was mistake. He only stopped when he saw your face drop, changing his wording, but still meaning the same thing. You tried shaking it off, but you couldn’t stop the memories of how it felt to be under him again.

Though, it turned out that James wasn’t having it any easier.

“What’s been wrong with you, mate?” Remus asked, walking towards his bed.

James turned his head to look at his friend, his cheek still squished into the pillow.

“I don’t know. I just feel awful.”

Remus sat on the edge of his bed. “You’ve been really off the past two weeks. Something happen?”

James shrugged, not responding.

“You know you can talk to us? Better than rotting away in bed all day.”

“I don’t know, Mooney,” James said, shoving his face back into his pillow. “I just miss her.”

Remus huffed a sigh, patting his friend on the back.

“I know you do.” He readjusted his seat on the bed. “Have you talked to her about, well, anything?”

“Yeah, we tried,” James replied, though he knew that it didn’t exactly go to plan when he did. “Doesn’t make it hurt less.”

“Do you want to opt out of the prank tonight? The boys would understand if you didn’t want to be around her.”

“No,” he said quickly, lifting his head. “No. I want to be there.”

“Alright. You’ll have to get out of bed for that, you know?”

James snorted, pushing Remus off his bed.

“Ah, screw off, Moons.”

Remus chuckled to himself. “Dinner is starting soon if you want to eat. She’ll be there, but we can keep you guys apart.”

“I don’t think being apart is helping.”

Remus looked on, disagreeing, but not willing to argue. “Alright. Well, get ready. I’m going to walk over in ten minutes.”

Remus left the room, heading off to wait in common room to give James some privacy. He was leaned against the back of a couch, fiddling with the edge of his sweater, when you slid next to where he stood.

“Hey, Mooney.”

He smiled. “Hey.”

“Are you going to dinner soon? I was thinking of heading down.”

He nodded. “Waiting on Prongs.”

“Ah,” you nodded. “He okay? He wasn’t in Defense Against the Dark Arts today. Not like him to skip that class.”

Remus swallowed. “He’s been a little under the weather.”

“Oh. That’s too bad.”

“Yeah. He’ll be okay, though.”

You sighed. “Is he coming tonight, still?”

“Mhm,” he nodded. “Just asked him.”

“Okay.”

“Is that… Okay with you?”

You looked at him with wide eyes. “Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?”

He gave you a knowing look, nudging your arm with his own.

“You’ve been a little sad lately. I can tell,” he said quietly. “Think I know why, too.”

You hummed. “I’ll be fine. Just difficult right now.”

“If you ever need anything…”

“I know,” you laughed. “Promise I’ll tell you if I do.”

He smiled, turning back forward and crossing is arms. You waiting in a comfortable silence, though you stood noticeably straighter when James came down the stairs. He stuttered in his steps when he saw you, a shy smile immediately on his face.

“Hey.”

“Hey, Jamie,” you said, returning his smile.

Remus looked between the two of you seemingly in a staring contest for a few seconds before clearing his throat. You both looked at him, clearly a little embarrassed.

“Ready, you two?”

“Yeah,” you said as James merely nodded.

You walked to the great hall in an obviously-tense silence. Remus was starting to regret getting James out of bed, the whole group feeling a little awkward as neither of you could keep your eyes off each other.

“Geez,” Peter started, clearly not reading the room. “You two didn’t stare at each other this much when you were dating.”

Sirius slapped him on the shoulder, shaking his head. You were hoping they’d eat a little faster so that you didn’t have to sit across from James anymore, even though you never minded the view.

Your wish came true, but you weren’t sure if you were in a better position, now. You’d gone back to the boys’ dorm to plan out the prank: turning the black lake blue. What you hadn’t anticipated in this plan was that one of the more uptight prefects would be wandering around the lake when you’d done your magic on it.

You were currently running through the trees, trying to get out of the sight of the boy. Though, at some point James had taken your hand, dragging you behind him. You chocked it up to a force of habit, as you found yourself doing quite often since you’d broken up. But you weren’t sure how much you could blame on habit as he pinned your back against a tree, staring down at you like he was going to kiss you again.

“Jamie—”

“Shh,” he shook his head, bringing a finger to his lips.

You waited in a tension-filled silence, hearing footsteps zoom past, just far enough where you wouldn’t get caught if you stayed still. You stood and listened until you were sure you were in the clear. But James didn’t move.

“He’s gone,” you whispered.

“Yeah.”

“We could go.”

“We could,” he nodded in agreement.

You looked up at him, admiring his features lit up in the moonlight. Your next move you’d blame entirely on gravity. It was magnetic, the way you came together. Neither of your faults, really.

Or so you told yourself.

You kissed him against that tree for far too long, feeling giddy and breathless when you finally pulled away.

“Bad idea,” you stated.

“Really bad idea,” he nodded. “Couldn’t help being alone this time, though. I don’t think it’s our fault.”

You chuckled. “You sound like me.”

“Not a bad thing, I don’t think.”

You shrugged, looking at him with stars in your eyes. You tried thinking of anything to talk about to keep your mouth busy.

“Full moon is coming up.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Mooney started feeling a little sick this morning. Probably’ll get worse the next couple days.”

“Right. You three going with him, again?”

“Yeah,” he nodded again. “You’ll be there to patch us up if we need it, again?”

“Always.”

He smiled, eyes flicking down to your lips again.

“Jamie, don’t do that,” you shook your head.

“Why not? I’ve missed you so much.”

“I know,” you melted a little. “I have too, but if you keep looking at me like that, we won’t just be kissing.”

He raised his brows. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

You chuckled, a smile on his face as he watched you.

“That’s the kind of bad idea I think we couldn’t bounce back from so easily.”

He hummed, jokingly discontent. Though, he did plan on keeping the thought of what could have been in his head for when he was alone. He moved away from you, holding out his hand.

“Let’s go back inside, yeah?”

You nodded, taking his hand and letting him lead you back towards the castle. That Saturday morning he’d come back unscathed from their time during Remus’ transformation. They surprisingly all had, much to your delight. All that had to be down was getting Remus into bed so that he could sleep it off as the morning came around.

You walked into their room that afternoon to find Remus, passed out, tangled up in his blankets. You smiled, leaving a fresh cup of water on his nightstand for when he woke up. All of them seemed to be asleep. It had been a long night.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Remus’ forehead, then turned to leave.

“Y/N?”

You turned back around, replying in a quiet voice. “Oh. Hi, Jamie. Why are you awake?”

“Dunno. Just couldn’t sleep since we got back.”

You hummed. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” he mumbled. “You do the work for potions yet?”

You shook your head. “No. Not yet.”

“Would it be okay if we…” he started asking, looking at you fully as he sat up. “I don’t understand it. I could use some help.”

You smiled softly. “Of course. I can go get my stuff—”

“I could just come with you,” he said quickly. “Don’t want to wake the others, anyway.”

You nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.”

He trailed after you sleepily, and you wondered why he’d want to even try to write an essay running on no sleep. It seemed silly at best, and was outright counterproductive.

He sat in your bed, rubbing at his eyes as he tried listening to you explain what you needed to do for the essay.

“Jamie, I don’t think you’re absorbing any of this,” you said with a light laugh.

He cracked a small smile. “Your bed is too comfy. I always wanna fall asleep here.”

You sighed. “Why don’t you take a nap, then? I can finish my essay and help you when you wake up.”

“You sure you don’t want to lay down, too?”

You snorted. “That’s asking for trouble.”

“Just for a little? Promise I’ll do the work later,” he said, giving you wide, pleading eyes. “You always help me sleep better.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

You set aside your work, laying next to him, pulling a blanket over both of you. He smiled as you snuggled into the pillow.

“What?” you asked.

He shrugged, the smile stuck on his face. “Nothing.”

You closed your eyes, feeling his arms pull you into his chest, but choosing not to say anything about it.

You woke half an hour later, and, as promised, James worked on his essay with you.

It became habit. Every Saturday you’d meet up to work on homework. A way to be together without being together. You mostly held back from kissing him, but he couldn’t always say the same. Then, inevitably, every Sunday you’d feel your heartbreak as you’d have the same conversation about how bad of an idea it was to keep doing this every week.

But you couldn’t stop.

Another weekend, another opportunity to pretend like you the study date in James’ room wouldn’t take a turn. You sat across from him on his bed, a book and some parchment in front of you.

“I don’t know why we have to write an essay on centaurs, anyways,” you huffed. “I feel like we’ve already discussed everything we needed to in class.”

James shrugged. “At least it’s only two pages. Could be worse.”

You grumbled your dissent, shutting the book after you’d written only half a page. He looked up at you, a smirk on his lips at your dramatics. He rolled his eyes playfully at you, shutting his own book.

“Alright. Do you want to go over the History of Magic assignment?” he questioned.

“Not particularly.”

“Good,” he said with a breath. “I really didn’t want to either.”

You snorted. “Why’d you ask then?”

He shrugged, moving both bits of parchment and the books off to the side.

“Trying to find a reason not to kiss you.”

You rolled your eyes. “We both know that’s a bad idea.”

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Hasn’t stopped us before, though, has it?”

You bit back a smile, not moving when he moved closer towards you. He reached a hand up, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip with the rest of his hand resting on your jaw. You watched him carefully, taking in the way his eyes sparkled as he looked at you in the warm lighting.

“Jamie…”

“Tell me you don’t want me to.”

You shook your head. “I can’t say that.”

He nodded, moving even closer, almost waiting for a sign that you’d push him away. That sign never came. He leaned in, ghosting his lips over yours until you took the lead, finally pressing against him. He pulled you into his lap immediately, arms holding you in like he was afraid you’d slip away from him if he didn’t. Your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand playing with the soft hair at his neck the way he always loved.

He smiled into your kiss, deepening it when you pushed up against him desperately.

Good things never seemed to last, though.

The door swung open suddenly, and you jumped away from James, clearly having been doing something you really shouldn’t have been. Sirius stared at the two of you, a look on his face that you seldom saw from him.

“We were just—” James started, but stopped immediately.

You were just what? There was no way to explain your way out of what Sirius had seen.

He shut the door behind him. Lingering near it with his arms crossed.

“Pads…” you said, unsure what you even wanted to say.

“You’ve got to stop this,” he said plainly, looking between you both. “Whatever this is, it needs to be done. The sneaking around was cute in the beginning, but I’m sick of it, now.”

Your stomach dropped, scooting even further away from where James sat stock-still on the bed.

Sirius sighed. “I love being your friend, both of you. But, Y/N, comforting you every time this happens is insane. Especially when you’re trying to pretend it isn’t because of you two holding on to each other when you clearly think you shouldn’t be.”

You nodded solemnly. He shifted his attention to James.

“I’ve had to listen to you cry yourself to sleep too many times, mate. It’s been months of this. You keep hurting yourselves and each other over and over again, and for what? An easy lay?”

“It’s not like that,” James said quickly.

“Then what is it?” Sirius asked pointedly.

You swallowed, turning to see James look like he was holding back tears as he stared back at his friend.

“I— I love her,” he said breathlessly. “You don’t know what this is like, Sirius. She’s my…”

You found yourself staring at him as he spoke, your heart beating out of your chest. You swallowed with a dry throat, unsure what to do. You felt frozen.

“You both agreed you couldn’t be together anymore, did you not?” Sirius asked, though not without a softness in his tone. “I’m sorry this is hard for you both, I am, but it’s been hard for the rest of us, too. We’re constantly wrapped up in trying to help you both out of this, but you keep going back behind our backs when you know it’s just hurting more.”

“I don’t know what to do,” James said, turning his gaze to you. “I don’t know what to do. I— I don’t know how I’m supposed to just be your friend. I don’t know how I’m supposed to pretend like I’m not in love with you. Like I haven’t imagined marrying you since we were fifteen. I don’t know why you wanted to break up.”

You felt tears sting your eyes. “You said you wanted to, too.”

“I lied,” he exclaimed. “I only said that because I was scared. I didn’t want to admit that I never wanted to leave you when you were telling me you didn’t think I was worth it anymore.”

Your mouth dropped open, tears falling down your cheeks. “I never said that.”

He opened his mouth to speak, then clamped it shut again. Before you had a chance to say anything else, he was launching himself out of bed, pushing past Sirius and out the door.

“Jamie—” you tried, though it fell on deaf ears.

You buried your face in your hands, letting your tears fall. You felt the bed dip next to you, Sirius’ arms curling around you and pulling you in. Your head fell on his shoulder as you cried.

“I didn’t know he didn’t… I thought he wanted things to end. I didn’t know he’s been so upset.”

His hand rubbed on your back. “You’ve both been holding onto this for too long. At this point, do you even want to be broken up?”

“We were always arguing together. The last two months we were together was nothing but going at each other.”

“What about now?”

You wiped your eyes, looking at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you still think it’s for the best? Because you clearly can’t stay away from each other,” he said, then sighed. “Either you guys need to distance yourselves or get back together. I hate seeing you cry like this.”

“Even if I wanted to be with him, I don’t think it would work.”

“Why not?”

“He wouldn’t want—”

“He just told you he’s in love with you,” Sirius exclaimed. “He never stops talking about you and how much he misses you. He cries himself to sleep over you, and then dreams about you when he finally passes out. Of course he’d want to be with you, don’t be stupid.”

Your eyes widened. “Since when are you mean to me?”

“Since you started talking with no sense. You’re supposed to be the smart one out of all of us.”

You smiled, shaking your head as he laughed.

“Just, quit acting like you two aren’t crazy for each other. You have been since we were kids,” he said, shrugging in disbelief. “You need to talk to him. And I mean talk, not…” he raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.”

“You know where he ran off to?”

“Probably that silly tree of his in the courtyard?”

He nodded. “That would be my guess.”

“Thanks, Siri,” you said, hugging him before you stood. “Wish me luck.”

“If either of you comes back crying, this better be the last time,” he said, hiding a smile with raised brows.

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled, leaving the room.

You were right about where he’d be. You walked up to James as he sat on the ground under the tree, staying quiet for a few moments as you breathed in the cold air.

“Why are you here?” he asked, looking straight ahead.

“Sirius talked some sense into me. He’s being surprisingly mature today. It’s scary.”

He nodded. “He does that on occasion.”

“I’m sorry,” you said.

He shrugged. “S’fine.”

“It’s not,” you replied, shaking your head. “I keep hurting you, and I hate that. I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”

“How couldn’t you?”

“When we had that conversation, when we broke up, I thought you’d be fine. I was convinced you’d be better off without me, and I thought that maybe we’d be better as friends. We wouldn’t stop arguing over stupid shit.”

“We could have worked it out.”

“We never talked about it.”

He sighed. “I guess.”

You let a silence wash over you for a minute, feeling him moving a little closer to you.

“It’s cold out here. You’re not dressed warm enough.”

“I’m fine. Not cold yet,” you said.

He hummed. “What did Sirius say?”

“Thinks we should either stay away from each other or get back together. Really, he told me those were the two options.”

“So you came out here to let me down easy for the last time?”

You reached out, touching his arm. He looked at you, furrowing his brows. You smiled softly.

“I was actually coming out to see if you hated me. In the hopes that you don’t—”

“That’s not funny.”

“I’m not joking.”

His face softened. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it. Please.”

“Jamie, I never stopped loving you. I shouldn’t have ever… I wish we would have just talked about everything. I hate not being with you,” you confessed. “Like, shit, James, we started scheduling study dates just to be around each other. I’ve never seen you so passionate about homework.”

He laughed. “It was never the homework I was excited about.”

“Me either.”

He watched you carefully. “You’d… You actually want to try this again? Us?”

“If you’d have me.”

He let out a breath, hands moving to your face as his lips pressed against yours. This time entirely uncaring if anyone saw you. He pulled away, pressing several soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead until you were laughing, pushing him away slightly.

“You really, really mean it?” he asked.

“Obviously we’ll have to talk about this. We need to make sure we actually communicate this time around.”

“Anything for you, love.”

“But yeah, I mean it.”

He smiled brightly. “Evans is gonna be pissed when she sees us snogging in Hogsmeade this weekend.”

[petriwriting]

I'll always stand up for you - Theodore Nott X Reader

A/N: Fixed up the spacing to make it easier to read this time.

Summary: Theo gets himself into a fight, Y/n has to patch him up.

*Fluff

The slytherin common room was very quiet, and empty. Y/n for once was the only student in the room. It was late at night, so it would’ve made perfect sense that many people were up in their rooms sleeping. Although it was odd y/n hadn’t seen anyone come or go yet, although that would certainly change. 

“Theodore?”

Y/n asked quietly, they were sat in the slytherin common room with a book, reading intently until Theo’s suspicious behavior became alarming. 

Theo was holding something over his mouth. his left eye was puffy and red. It would without a doubt leave a nasty bruise. They were very close, sharing secrets and walking to class together. Theo especially knew how to make y/n smile after a hard day. He was sweet and kind when he wanted to be, especially towards y/n. It wasn’t until incredibly recently that they had, in fact, developed feelings for Theodore. 

“Theo,”

Y/n offered again, setting the book aside. Theo had walked in, hoping to sneak away to his dorm unnoticed by anyone, but y/n had been up late reading on that particular evening. The common room was cozy, and quiet at that hour. 

“Yes?” Theodore asked, trying to keep his face away from the light of the fireplace, but ultimately it was no use. Y/n could see he was holding the handkerchief he had kept in his satchel full of class supplies. It looked bloodied. Which made Y/n’s heart race, they immediately stood and walked promptly over to the boy. 

“What happened.”

Y/n’s voice was full of concern, but Theo pulled away slightly. “Nothing I couldn’t handle,” he says downplaying what had really happened. His eyes looked tired, with the way he had entered the common room, y/n knew he was sore, and had likely been in a fight from the early stages of a black eye.

“Let me see, please.” Y/n’s voice was soft, but sweet. Theo could feel his heart flutter. He removed his hand from his lip, revealing a split across his bottom lip smeared with blood. He was likely punched in the jaw, no doubt. It made y/n angry to think that someone would do that. “May I?” Y/n offered, taking the handkerchief from the boy and gesturing for him to sit on the leather furniture facing the fireplace. Yn tilted Theo's chin up to get a better look at his face, examining his features. Yn delicately thumbed away a streak of blood from Theo's mouth, saying nothing and instead frowning. His features were then illuminated by the fire light, a scratch on his cheek, what would become a black eye in the morning, and the split on his lip. It was disheartening to see him in that state, as he had flinched when he sat down and looked like he was suffering.

“Who did this to you?” 

“Some lowlife gryffindor, and his friends.” Theo said with a gentle sigh. Y/n grabbed the handkerchief and gently dabbed the blood off his cheek and lip, paying special attention to try and not hurt him even more. “You have to be more careful.” Y/n said, slightly disappointed. 

“I know. I’m sorry.” Theo admitted, “They were saying things about you.” 

Y/n felt flushed at the thought of Theo defending them, especially in a fight. It was a romantic gesture, but they were also frustrated he didn’t just walk away. It wasn’t incredibly common that Theodore came home with bruises from fights, but it did happen. Especially when someone would speak Ill of his friends and family. 

“They said you weren’t worth the trouble, that you’re a nasty person.” Y/n let out a sigh, grabbing their school bag and digging out a small container with a green balm in it. Some kind of healing concoction from herbology class. Y/n was listening to Theo, but was intent on healing him. Taking a small amount on their thumb, they gently brushed it over his cheek, and slowly and delicately over his lip. 

“It’s not true, you know.”

“What?”

“That you’re a nasty person.”

“It doesn’t matter Theo-“

“No. It does matter. To me. I think you are absolutely lovely. I won’t ever let them-or anyone speak badly of someone that I love.” 

Y/n paused, if it weren’t for the low lighting and the warm glow from the fireplace Theo would’ve certainly seen them blushing. 

“. . .you, love me?”

Y/n asked, quite elated at the thought of Theo saying those three words. 

“Well I better because I took quite a few hits to avoid another detention.” Theo smiled softly. It was likely on a field trip outside of school, someplace where he couldn’t use magic. He was quick witted and skilled at dueling, but when it came to physical fights it seemed like whoever it was certainly had a stronger build. Y/n chuckled softly, but before they could speak Theo began again, “Of course I love you, y/n.” 

“Teddy,”

“No I do. I can’t deny those feelings.”

“Please don’t go picking fights for me anymore, I absolutely hate that you were hurt,” y/n shook their head slightly. unsure of how to express the feelings of butterflies in their chest. The feeling of young love. 

“I love you too much to ever see you hurt at all.”

“Listen, the next time I see those bastards they’ll be the ones hurt and in the hospital wing I can guarantee that.”

“Please be careful.”

“I won’t be sorry for defending your name.”

Y/n brushed the rest of the blood off their chin, gently grazing his soft skin. 

Theo locked eyes, it was a tender moment. It was sentimental, and kind. For a second he wondered what it would be like to kiss them. 

“You don’t have to defend me.”

“I know.”, “. . . I know,”

With their eyes locked, and y/n’s hand near Theo’s wounded face, their heart was racing fast from being so nervous. Theo felt a rush, and then decided to cross the line between friends and lovers. He gently grabbed the side of y/n’s cheek cradled in his hand and pressed their lips together softly. It was a brief kiss but it was meaningful. When they pulled back, y/n remained close looking into his blue eyes. They reminded y/n of the sea. Almost forehead to forehead, in this intimate moment y/n broke the silence finally with a bare whisper, getting a smile out of Theo and a slight laugh.

“I love you, I have for a while, … but don’t you dare get yourself beat up over me again.”

[leclercstarrs]

the slytherin boys confessing to you on new year’s eve

➤ blaise zabini

he waits for the right moment during the party in the slytherin common room. when the clock strikes midnight and the two of you are facing each other, not even taking notice of everyone around you celebrating a new year, he looks down at you and cups your face, pausing for a moment to admire you before kissing you.

➤ draco malfoy

he carries you to your dorm room when the party’s over and you’re barely able to walk straight after all the drinking, helping you get into bed and covering you with the blanket, brushing your hair out of your face and placing a trash can next to your bed. draco sits on the side of your bed, placing a comforting hand on your leg. when he thinks you’re asleep, he confesses to you, unaware that you’re awake and can hear him.

➤ lorenzo berkshire

when the crowd in the common room gets overwhelming and the loud music seems to be getting louder every second, lorenzo sneaks you away to his favourite spot in hogwarts, the astronomy tower. the weasley twins have fireworks going off to celebrate and the two of you just sit there and watch as the night sky lights up with different colours. he turns to look at you and you can feel him staring, so you do the same and shift your body so you’re looking at each other. “i’ve liked you since first year. i understand if you don’t feel the same way, but considering it’s a new year, i just needed to tell you. you mean so much to me.” he whispers.

➤ mattheo riddle

he can feel the jealousy radiating off of him as he’s sitting on one of the leather couches in the common room, watching you and harry potter join the rest of the crowd in dancing. your eyes shift to glance at mattheo behind harry’s shoulder, raising an eyebrow in confusion as he basically death stares at the brunette you’re swaying your hips against. when mattheo looks away, you do the same and bring your attention back to him, not expecting it when the angry slytherin walks up to you and harry. “matty? what—” before you can even finish your sentence, he punches harry right in the jaw and starts a fight with the gryffindor boy. later on, the two of you are in mattheo’s dorm as you clean his hands and the mark on his face from the one hit the other boy was actually able to get in. the party is still going on and although you’re pissed at him for ruining your night, he can’t help but tell you exactly why he started the fight and how much he wants you as you wipe some blood off of his bleeding knuckles.

➤ theo nott

theo takes a, slightly, calmer approach to his confession. when he sees you, his best friend, dancing with fred weasley, his immediate response is to shut down and distance himself from you for the rest of the night. he drowns his sorrows in cheap alcohol the twins managed to score for the party. eventually, when you realize you haven’t seen him in a bit, you part ways with fred to go find him. when you find him, he’s drinking alone on one of the leather couches in the middle of the room. confronting him, determined to figure out why he’s acting so weird, he drunkenly confesses.

[ghost-recs]

Oikawa SMAU Rec

nonsense by @idlerin

synopsis: university student, chaotic friend group, and up and coming actor/model oikawa tooru as your secret ex, what could go wrong?

the perfect combination of angst, cuteness, and humor that left me a puddle for oikawa tooru (i highly recommend the playlist too, pls pls).

syrup by @eggyrocks

synopsis: oikawa, to put it bluntly, is love sick. unfortunately, there is a bit of an obstacle in the way of his happy ever after with you...

lots of crack and chaos. humor that has me going. [ongoing...]

pose for me by @authentictiramis

synopsis: vlogging au where two groups decide to collab, simping ensues.

short and sweet, full of fluff and some humor. cute!

[lionizingheathen]

Agreement - R.L.

Flatmate!Remus Lupin x fem!reader

Giving your flatmate, Remus Lupin a blowjob to help him relax

Warnings: Smut, Oral sex male recieving, face fucking, pet names, cum swallowing

"Y/N." Remus asked from your doorway, and you raised an eyebrow. What was he doing in your room? He didn't often just come in, normally he was invited.

"Yeah, what's up?" You glanced over at him, brows furrowing. He had bags under his eyes and his cheeks looked sallow... he hadn't been taking care of himself and he probably had forgotten to take his potion. Which he needed to do. Soon. "You look like hell, did you take your potion?" You asked, and he shook his head, rubbing his eyes. He needed to, you knew that.

"Not yet, no." He glanced around your room, as if he was worried that someone was going to be in there, listening to your conversation. "Are you willing to do something for me?" He asked, and you nodded, putting your bookmark into your book.

"Uh... Sure, what's up?" You asked, setting your book down as you sat more attentively. He was quiet, chewing on his lip thoughtfully, as if he was trying to figure out how to ask what he wanted to ask.

"Give me a blowjob." He said, and you nearly dropped your book as you looked over at him, hoping that your face didn't betray your shock at him saying that. You'd happily do that... Remus seemed like he'd be fun in bed.

"Okay... I really thought you were going to say like 'go to the store and buy me eggs' or something along that line..." You said, and he shrugged.

"I think it would help the aggression." God...

"Are you feeling agressive?" You asked and he scoffed, giving you an annoyed look. Fair, that was self explanatory and you knew it.

"Of course I am. You know I am." Remus snapped, and you rolled your eyes. Werewolves. So dramatic... probably. Remus was the only one that you'd met.

"Normally you just... handle it, I don't know." You said flippently, and he was quiet.

"How did you know that?" He asked, and you chewed on your lip. Caught.

"The walls are thin, Remus. I know a lot of what you get up to." You murmured, giving him a half smile. He grimaced, picking at the ends of his sleeves as he spoke, clearly not appreciating how easily you had said that to him.

"That's incredibly disconcerning, I don't like that at all." He mumbled, and you shrugged, kicking your feet up on your desk once again. Clearly this would probably just end in a conversation, nothing more, so there was no need to be sitting at attention.

"Move out, then. Get a more expensive apartment." You sighed, and he was silent for a moment, leaning against your wall, fiddling with his fingers.

"Are you listening to me on purpose?" He asked, and you felt your face get hot. Yes. But only sometimes, only when you needed to get off... only when you wanted to fantasize.

"No."

"You're lying." He said, and you shook your head. Yeah, you were lying but he didn;'t need to know that.

"I'm not lying, I have never intentionally tuned into you while you're wanking, Remus." You said, and he chuckled, pushing off the wall to stretch up, the hem of his sweater coming up as he did.

"I have." He sighed, and your head snapped away from the strip of skin and back to his face. What?

"Hm?" You asked, and he shrugged, tucking his hands into his pockets as he kicked his foot at the ground.

"Intentionally tuned into you while you're wanking... or while you're being fucked." He said, and you felt like you were going to fall out of your chair. What the fuck?

"Why?" He asked, and he shrugged, taking a step closer to you as he spoke. God, this energy looked fucking good on him.

"Becuase I know I could do it better than any of them. I'd have you trembling and screaming within moments and they can't even last long enough to make you cum. You've got horrible taste in guys." He said, and you rolled your eyes. Most of them were scared off by Remus, it wasn't as if you had a long line of suitors.

"Shut up." He flicked his eyebrow up at you.

"Come suck my cock and I will." He said, and you tried to ignore the pang between your thighs. This was all about making him feel better.

"Demanding."

"Tie your hair up and get the fuck over here." He said, and you did just that, standing up to walk over to him.

"Sit on the edge of my bed." You sighed, and he nodded, sitting down with his hands splayed behind him, a small smirk on his face. The way that the deep scar on his cheek distorted it slightly... God.

"Okay..." He said and you walked over, falling to your knees beside him. You didn't miss the way that he inhaled sharply at that, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. You unbuttoned his pants, tapping his hip lightly so he would lift his hips. You dragged his pants down his thighs, his boxers quickly following, making his cock spring up against his stomach. It was thick and long, intimidating. You brought a hand up to wrap around it, unable to meet your fingers on either side. He was bigger than moast people you'd been with... and he probably knew how to use it.

"Holy fuck." You murmured, brushing your thumb over the tip, making him jump as he hissed out a breath. So sensitive.

"What? What's wrong?" He asked, and you smiled up at him, jerking your hand up and down his cock, making him let out a low and throaty groan.

"Nothing... You're just really big." You said, and you kissed up the side of his cock, flicking your tongue over the veins. "And your cock is really pretty." You murmured, and he let out a nervous sort of chuckle, clearly trying to keep from thrusting into your face.

"I don't know if I agree with that..." His voice jumped up as you brought the tip of his cock into your mouth, licking over the slit, tasting the precum that was leaking from it. It made your cunt throb.

"You taste good." You murmured, pulling back for a moment to lick up the side before sucking on the tip again, enjoying his movements, the way he was quickly becoming desperate. There was a reason people finished so fast when they were with you.

"Please get on with it." He groaned, and you opened your mouth wider, taking him further into your mouth, choking when he hit the back of your throat. He pulled away from you. "You don't have to take it all, I understand-." You shook your head, looking up at him with a wide smile.

"I want you to fuck my throat until it's raw, Remus. Stop being polite when you were just being demanding." You said, and he nodded, taking a deep breath.

"... Okay." You swallowed him down quickly, forcing yourself to take him all the way down your throat, making him let out a loud shout of your name. Your neighbors were gonna hate this... not that you cared. "Merlin's... fuck... your mouth is so warm..." He moaned, and you bobbed your head up and down, trying to take more of him. You wanted all of him down your throat.

"Mmmph." You groaned, and he pressed his hand into your hair, lifting his hips to fuck into your throat, making him hiss.

"Tight... your throat is so tight." He sighed. "Holy shit, you look even prettier than I could've imagined." You blushed, but pulled back. He was being too gentle, too sweet... he needed release, he didn't need sweet.

"Fuck, Remus. I'm doing this so you can take out your aggression. So use me." You instructed, and you watched as he shivered, throwing his head back for a moment. He was beautiful, his adam's apple bobbing in his throat, his stomach rising and falling quickly, knuckles white as he gripped your comforter. He looked nearly feral when he glanced back down at you, shaking his head.

"You can't talk like that." He said, and you shrugged, smirking at him as you leaned back in, flicking your tongue out across his tip.

"Then shut me up, or I'll continue." He pulled you back down, letting out a laugh that almost came off as bitter.

"You're so fucking cocky." He fucked your face faster, making you choke around him. Your cunt clenched around nothing as you thought of him taking you like this, fucking your cunt until it was ruined for anyone else. "It'd be annoying if you weren't fit." He grunted, and your eyes rolled back as he forced himself deeper. You breathed out of your nose, wanting to let him use your throat for as long as you could.

"You were made for this. Made to be my cocksleeve, weren't you?" He groaned, and you blushed. You would've nodded had he not chosen to increase his pace. Fuck.

"Mhm."

"I bet your cunt is even better... I'll be taking that soon as well. Maybe I should just do this every time I get angry... come in here and fuck you until I'm relaxed, would you like that?" He pulled you up by your hair, glaring down at you as you gasped for air. "I asked you a fucking question." He said, and you nodded. God, that sounded good.

"Yes... Open door policy." You coughed, and he nodded, giving you a large grin as he tugged your hair, making you swallow his cock once again

"Good girl. That's what I was thinking." He murmured. He held your head down, making your eyes water as your nose pressed agianst his pelvis. You dug your nails into his thighs, choking around him as he let you go, let you get a breath in before he began again, fucking your throat in earnest. God, this was hot.

"Fuck, you're so good at this baby, so good..." You brought your hand between your thighs, rubbing at your clit, whimpering at how swollen it was. God, you wanted to cum. Above you, Remus growled, yanking hard on your hair. "Don't touch yourself, I want you to be horny for me... in case I need more. Gotta have you ready." He groaned, and you pulled your hand away, whimpering at the loss as you chose instead to scratch at his legs, making him let out a high moan. Fuck, he sounded so pretty.

"I'm getting close baby. So close." He groaned, chewing on his lips as he continued fucking your throat, his pace getting sloppy. This was perfect... Remus Lupin using your throat, you could cross something off your bucket list.

"I'm cumming..." He held your hair, making sure you wouldn't pull off... not that you were planning on it. "Fuck... Y/N! Swallow it... Take it all, baby." He gasped as he came down your throat. You swallowed around him frantically, moaning at the taste... God, everything about him was utterly intoxicating. You sat back on your kness, giving him a wide smile before you let yourself drop onto his lap.

"Jesus, that was..." You sighed, shaking your head.

"Was it too much?" He asked, and you shook your head, easing him back onto the bed.

"Remus, that was the hottest thing I've ever experienced." You promised, him, placing a gentle hand on his cheek as you settled down beside him.

"Really?" He asked, and you nodded, lunging forward to press a kiss to his lips. He looked shocked when you pulled back, and for a moment you were worried that you'd misread the situation, before he pulled you back in, kissing you deeply. You moaned into his mouth, grinding your slick cunt onto his skin blindly, needing any friction you could get... God, you needed to feel him inside you.

"Yeah." You rolled on top of him, straddling his waist. "I need you to fuck me." You said, and he let out a long sigh, chuckling at the end of it as he shook his head, resting his hands on your hips.

"I need to recover for a moment... Can't... I need to rest. But we will. I promise." He said, and you nodded, looking away from him as you slid to the side, feeling embarrassed as you sat on the edge of the bed.

"Right, sorry." You said, and a moment later you felt his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back down beside him.

"S'okay." You laid like that for a moment, silent, existing in each other's space. "You know? We actually do need some eggs and some bread... milk too..." He mumbled into your hair, and you chuckled.

"I'll go get them." You sighed, and he let out a groan as you stood up, taking yourself out of his arms. You watched as he burrowed into the blankets, giving you an almost-glare.

"Hurry back. I'll be waiting." He mumbled, and you paused for a moment. He was going to fuck you when you were back... there were steps that should be taken.

"Should I get condoms too?" You asked, and he shook his head, giving you a large, lazy grin as he rolled over, laying on his stomach. He looked good, tangled up in your sheets.

"Oh, we're not using them, just take a potion..." He paused for a moment, looking worried. "Is that okay?" His question was soft and gentle, a far cry from the first one he'd asked this evening. You gave him a smile as you shrugged on your sweater and nodded. There was nothing more okay than that.

"Fuck yes. I'll be back." You said, shutting the door behind you with a large grin growing on your face, replacing the tentative one from moments earlier.

[sunnami]

❝time will tell.❞

[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]

summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞

pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)

word count. 9.5k.

tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf

note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one

HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 

At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 

Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.

Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 

Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 

But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 

Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 

You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 

Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 

“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 

“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”

You reach over to smack his head, scowling.

“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 

You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 

“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 

“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 

Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)

“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 

Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 

“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 

Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 

You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 

The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 

That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.

“That slimy bitch!” 

Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 

The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 

You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 

You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 

You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 

But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 

You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 

When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 

“That’s Sirius.” 

You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.

Sirius Black.

“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 

“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 

Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”

You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 

Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 

You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 

After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”

“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 

“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”

A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.” 

Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 

You grimace. “Which cousin?” 

He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”

This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 

“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 

“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”

“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 

When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 

You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 

“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 

You nod. 

Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”

Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 

The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.

You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 

You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.

They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 

Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 

You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 

When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 

Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 

Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 

“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 

“Oh, Harry. . .” 

It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 

You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 

“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”

“It’s—”

“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”

“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 

“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 

“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 

“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 

You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”

“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 

Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 

Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 

“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  

Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 

“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 

A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 

Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 

Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 

(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 

“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”

“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)

But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 

“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 

“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 

James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 

Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 

With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 

Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 

You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 

“It was fine,” You say in a daze.

Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 

Were you? 

You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 

There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 

Then, you find it. 

Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 

It’s a space on that wall just for you. 

James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 

“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 

James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”

“James, I can’t do this.” 

That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 

(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 

You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 

James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”

You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 

“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 

You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 

James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 

“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 

He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 

“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”

He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 

You don’t look back. 

(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 

“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 

Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 

“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 

James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”

“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.

You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 

Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 

Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”

“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 

You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 

Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 

“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 

Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 

“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 

Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 

You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 

“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 

“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 

As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 

“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 

Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 

“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 

“I know,” You say defeatedly. 

“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 

“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 

Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 

“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 

Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”

(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 

You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 

“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”

Oh, Harry knows.

And Hermione knows it all too well. 

“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”

At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 

“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 

You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 

Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”

Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 

You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 

“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 

Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 

“I’m always right.” You pout. 

Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”

“Without a doubt.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.

“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 

As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 

How lucky you are. 

“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 

“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 

You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 

Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 

Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”

You grin. “Is that a yes?” 

“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 

“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 

Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor

“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 

Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:

“We’re all getting married!” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 

You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 

Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 

“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.

You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 

Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 

You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 

Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 

“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 

Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 

“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 

Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 

“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 

Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”

“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 

“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 

“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 

Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”

“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 

You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”

“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 

(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 

“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 

“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”

You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 

James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 

You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)

Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 

Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 

The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 

Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 

“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 

“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 

When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 

“Avada Kedavra!” 

You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 

“No!” 

You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 

“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 

“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 

“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”

“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 

“Expulso!” 

Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 

“Accio wand!” 

The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 

“Peter?” You call out. 

“Crucio!” 

The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 

“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 

It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.

“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 

“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 

You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 

“Defodio!” 

You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 

That just leaves one more problem. 

Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 

Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.

“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 

Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 

“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 

“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 

Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 

Oh.

Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 

You just wanted to rest now. 

The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 

“Avada Kedavra.” 

(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 

You’ll feel my blood on your skin.

You’re a dead man. 

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 

“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 

Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 

Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 

Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 

Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 

Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.

Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 

“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 

James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 

“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 

James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 

ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 

He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 

You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 

Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”

He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 

“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”

And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 

end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!

[bookishdreamer28]

You and Mattheo were laying on the couch inside the common room, with no one else around but just the two of you since you skipped another class today.

Mattheo had your body cradled in his arms, as he softly ran his fingers through your hair. He was watching you in admiration as you read your book and he felt his stomach flipping as you looked up at him to give him one of your tooth-rooting smiles, a warm light reflecting in your eyes. It was still unbelievable to him how he got so lucky to have someone like you, loving him the way you do and making him the happiest he could ever be.

The light from the fireplace was hitting your face just right. So beautiful Mattheo thought to himself as he kept his gaze on you, feeling so hypnotized by you.

No words were needed, because just the way you looked at each other alone, was enough to understand what and how the other was feeling. You moved up a little and captured his lips into a love filled kiss, which Mattheo melt into the kiss and hum with satisfaction. After a while, you pulled away and when you looked at each other, you let out a small laugh which made Mattheo's smiled wider.

"Gosh you're so beautiful" he whispered and kissed you again, with more passion. When you were done with your make out session, you just stayed there, snuggled up closer to each other and enjoyed each other's company.

"You know at some point we should tell them" you murmured against his neck and turned to look at him.

"You kidding? They'll start tormenting us about not telling them and they won't Ever, leave us alone again. And trust me the last thing I want, is to want to have my moments with my gorgeous girl, and having the guys eavesdropping"

He placed a kiss on your forehead and laid back as he looked at you with a smirk. You shook your head as you laughed and laid your head on his chest.

"I love these secret moments together. We don't need anyone else to know. Now that I finally have you, I want to cherish you every minute of the day" you giggled as he laid you now on your back and he got on top of you.

He kissed you hungrily and his hand traveled up to your thigh, squeezing the soft flesh. You softly moaned as he bite your lip and you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, pressing him closer to your body.

You suddenly heard a weird thudding sound coming from outside and you stopped kissing. He looked at the door and then down ar you.

"Whoever it is they'll leave. I can't stop now" he growled and was about to kiss you again but this time the sound was a bit louder.

"Who ever the fuck is out there you better get lost or else-" The door opened and slammed on the wall by the impact, and two bodies were laying on the ground.

"What. The fuck?" You and Mattheo said and two heads looked up at you.

"Annoying presences? Do you really find us annoying?" Theodore aksed with furrowed eyebrows.

"I'm sorry, were you eavesdropping the whole time?"

"I wouldn't call it eavesdrop-"

"Oh shut it " Mattheo said to Enzo and then turned to you ready to kiss you again but then he noticed how Theodore and Enzo hadn't left from the room yet.

"You're not going to watch me kiss my girlfriend pricks" Mattheo angrily said to them and the boys hurriedly stood up and just left the room.

"Well that was easy-"

"And just so you're know we're not annoying. Y/N loves me" Enzo's face appeared behind the door and smirked at you.

"Berkshire you have one second-"and before Mattheo could finish the sentence, Enzo was already gone.

You laughed and Mattheo turned his head to you when he heard the joyful sound, smiling too.

"And now, where were we?" He leaned down and started trailing deep kisses along the nape of your neck, making you forget about everything.

💚 🙌

[ginevrapng]

fred would absolutely be into fucking you when you're asleep(with your consent).

"i know you're sleepy love but can i just feel you for a bit? i promise you won't have to do anything, i'll be gentle, just want to be in you so bad." he knows you'll always mumble a quiet yes, he's asked you many times to make sure it's still okay. he places soft kisses down your neck as he hears your small sighs and whimpers and runs his hands over your body delicately, occasionally ghosting his fingertips down to brush against your clit. he knows at this point you're deep asleep but he whispers in your ear, "you're so warm sweetheart, i love you so much" causing you to get goosebumps.

soon enough he's sliding his cock inside of you, trying to suppress his groan. you whimper again and fred presses his face in your hair, stifling any noises and smelling your shampoo causing him to get more turned on as he slowly pushes into you, letting you become accustomed to his size before he starts thrusting, leisurely and deep. as he gets closer he holds you closer and spills inside you, because not only does this man need you in your sleep but he also needs to breed you. he quickly falls asleep with you in his arms.

[incorrectquotesharrypotterv]

Y/n: Well, atoms never touch each other. Since we are made of atoms, we have never touched anything our whole lives.

McGonagall: .....

Y/n: So to answer your question, no, I didn't punch Harry in the face.

[theemporium]

Hi! I'd love a touchy bestfriend! Sirius Black, where girl reader is cuddling with him on his bed, no bra, his shirt and biker shorts, and then the other Marauders walk in like "wtf?" I know, too specific, sorry. Hope you can do it!

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“Ugh, they are doing it again!” 

You lifted your head from the book you were currently reading, finding James Potter standing at the end of the bed with his nose scrunched up as he took in the sight of you laying on his best friend’s bed. With said best friend currently lying on top of you with his head on your stomach, your shirt (or, really, his shirt) pushed up to expose your torso.

“Leave them alone,” Remus called out from his bed, his tone blunt and unbothered.

“Jealous I stole your boyfriend, Potter?” You teased, a shit-eating grin on your face.

“No,” he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest but his eyes narrowed at the way the two of you were tangled up together. “You have your own room, you know.”

You raised your brows. “Is that your subtle way of trying to kick me out?”

Sirius let out a noise of disagreement. “She’s staying, Prongs, get over it.”

“It was more a subtle way of telling you both to take your weird, cuddly shit somewhere else so I don’t have to be affronted with it every time I come in,” James corrected. 

“We are literally just chilling here,” you retorted.

“It’s basically foreplay,” James grumbled in response. “I cuddle with Pads all the time and we never have this much skin touching.”

You grinned. “You sound jealous again.”

“I am not jealous!” James huffed before turning to look at Remus for some help. “C’mon, back me up here, Moony.”

Remus turned to glance over at you and Sirius, his eyes darting over the way your bodies were entangled like you were one person. He noted the way Sirius’ nose brushed up and down your skin as he sunk further into your embrace, the way his hands were practically halfway up your shirt and definitely much higher than a friend’s should be. He noted the way your legs were wrapped around his body too, like you wanted to keep him close. 

“Yeah, looks super platonic,” Remus deadpanned.

Sirius grunted, lifting his head to glare at his two friends. “You know, this was a lot more pleasing when neither of you were here.”

“Stop getting pissy because we are interupting your afternoon nap with the truth,” James snapped back at him, looking a little too smug when he noted the way Sirius’ cheeks flushed pink. 

“Fuck off, Prongs,” Sirius huffed out before he nuzzled his face against your stomach once again. He let out a pleased noise when your hand for his hair, your nails lightly scratching along his scalp.

“We are just friends,” you said to James, but he heard it. He heard the hint in your voice. Maybe it was longing or something else. 

But James had a feeling that his best friend wasn’t the only one hiding his feelings.

.

[guiltyreverie]

Lollipops and cigarettes

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x reader

Content tags: established friends, slytherin!reader, no angst (i deserve a medal for this lmao)

Warning: mentions of drugs, suggestive content but no smut, just heavy foreplay

Prompt: "I know I signed up for this and all, but... if I die, it's still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you." (source)

Summary: Mattheo thinks it‘s fun to explore the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night

A/N: boy, the way I hop from one Riddle to another - i can fix him ykyk ok but these are shorter than other fics since theyre part of the prompt thingy I’m doing and I figured I should get started

Word count: 1.9k

You would kill him - you will kill him - if whatever is in here doesn’t kill you first and then you’ll kill yourself for letting him persuade you in the first place.

Mattheo disregarded many things, like his school work, attendance, relationships but you gotta leave it to him - he knew how to push your buttons and when he said he’d take Amara from the year below with him if you weren’t joining him, you snapped and agreed - looking at nothing but pitch blackness and the occasional rustle - that always scared the living shits out of you - you thought to yourself, he should’ve taken her.

You weren’t the type to get frightened easily but the eerie dread that filled you once you were so deep in you couldn’t even see Hogwarts anymore it was over and you almost jumped at every sound, your hand subconsciously reaching out for Mattheo only for him to give you the most shit-eating grin and tease your anxious behavior - Salazar knows why you like this idiot in the first place.

The unsteady path shaped by the trees seemed never ending and incredibly unnerving, even if you tried to see the end it was just pitch black.

“Come on, princess, ”, he pokes your side with his elbow and nudges his head forward, “who knows what’s waiting for us out there.”, he smirks and you scoff loudly and hit him, resulting in the leaves rustling in the trees and crows suddenly emerging with loud ‘craws’ and you almost shit yourself.

Subconsciously you hold on tighter to him to the point your chest touches his arm.

“I hate you, by Merlin’s beard, fuck you, Riddle.”, you whisper-shout into his ear; his head turns towards yours in a matter of a second, your face was already so close to his, your noses brushed together when he turned; you could feel his breath tingling on your lips.

Shivers ran down your spine - you were used to the tension that followed almost every interaction you had with Mattheo but this? This was on a different level - the both of you were alone in the woods, your body clinging to him and now you just had to move forward, not even two inches and you’d finally know how his lips taste - you bet like a mixture of lollipops and cigarettes.

He smirks and you could feel the ghost of his touch on your lips - you will breach the distance between you guys if he isn’t going to do it.

His hand reaches out for your hair and brushes a piece of it back behind your ear and you’re finally able to make out the shadows on his face, like his scar on his nose, or the scar on his right eyebrow, from the small light of the moonshine seeping through the branches of the tree and your breath hitches - he was smiling.

You knew you liked him and you knew how it felt to like someone but nothing could’ve prepared you for the way his smile accompanied by the soft glow of the moon on his face would make your insides explode; make you feel so warm - the former coldness of the forbidden forest long forgotten.

“Fuck me yourself, babe.”, he grins and the almost fairy tale-like illusion you just created in your head shattered - this is Mattheo fucking Riddle, by Salazar you still don’t know why you like him, of course he’d make a dirty jab at you.

You were about to roll your eyes and push him away but you had a better idea in your head; your hands reach for his jawline and you start to trace it, his small beard stubbles scratching your fingertips and you can see the way he gulps hard by his adams apple - his jaw clenched but a curious glint in his eyes - what are you doing? Your fingers start to trace the way down to his neck, followed by his collarbone towards his chest and abs until your fingers stop at his waistband; his eyes follow your touch in anticipation and curiosity but he hasn’t dared to utter a single word. You tug him closer towards you by his waistband and you reached up until your lips ghosted over his neck - right above the spot most girls would leave their hickeys on, you assumed it was his most sensitive spot; a few seconds later you make your way back to his ear, your lips graze his earlobe and you can hear his breath hitch and you smile: “Don’t mind if I do.”

He sucks in a deep breathe and gives you a warning glance: “Fuck, princess, unless you actually plan to follow up with that, don’t tease me like that.”

“Why not?”, you smile knowingly, Riddle might not be interested in romantic relationships but you knew the effect you could have on a man.

“I don’t think you want me to leave you alone right here because I have a hard business to take care of”, he glances down towards the dent on his crotch, your hand was still on his waistband and you let out a small giggle, “do you?”

“Let me take care of it, then?”, you give him your best doe eyes while your hands slowly pull on his waistband and you can almost see him come undone at the mere idea of you touching him - it made you feel powerful, hopeful and needy for him.

“Princess,”, his eyes darkened, he seemed to finally snap out of his trance and before you know it your back was pushed against a tree, Mattheo’s arms were wrapped around your waist and his forehead was leaning against yours, he was breathing heavily, as if he could barely contain himself - he looked at you like a starved prisoner, ready to finally devour you after he’s been denied for so long and god did it turn you on.

“Tell me off.”, he whispers against your lips, you start to wonder if you have to beg him to kiss you and you shake your head.

“Kiss me, Riddle.”

His lips immediately meet yours and you close your eyes leaning closer into him, wrapping your arms around his neck while he pulls you even closer by your waist. Earlier he looked like he could devour you and right now, he is, his one arm went up to your head and he started to slightly tug at your hair, not hard enough for it to hurt but hard enough to make your head go back and for you to let out an involuntary moan.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.”, he breathes against the outer corner of your mouth and starts leaving sloppy kisses there as well.

His hands roam around your entire body until they find the back of your thighs and he starts to knead them slowly and you let out a small gasp at the sudden sensation of his big hands around your thighs, you were growing hotter and hotter, you wanted - scratch that- you needed this man, the tension in your core only growing stronger.

He lifts you up by your thighs, his lips never leaving your body, it felt he like was trying to engrave this feeling into his mind, and leans you against the wall, your crotch is right against his, your needy core almost immediately starts to rub against his hardened member and you let out a whimper.

He gently bites you in the neck and licks your most sensitive spot and you moan out his name.

“Baby”, he groans, “moan my name again”, his hands meet your ass and he gives it a firm squeeze and you moan out his name once more.

Just when he started to take off his shirt an alarm went off and you opened your eyes hazily.

“Fuck”, Mattheo curses and immediately puts his sweatshirt back on.

You have to take a deep breath to get back from the high you just felt and you give Mattheo a concerned look and breathily say: “What’s wrong?”

“Theo texted, there’s an emergency and they’re gathering all the students in the great hall.”, he bites his lips and you can’t help but almost completely disregard what he’s currently saying and only want to feel his lips on yours again.

“You’re staring.”

“Can’t blame me.”

He chuckles: “Now, princess”, he grabs your hand and starts pulling you back to where you had come from, “we gotta hurry before we get into big trouble for sneaking out.”, he gives you one last glance, and the current situation finally seems to dawn onto you and you start to freak out.

“Salazar, fuck, Mattheo, we’re so going to get a whole year of detention if they catch us.”, you bite your lip, the anxiety finally overshadowing your horny mind and you both hurry back to Hogwarts.

Out of breath you finally are inside the castle, skillfully evading any teachers or prefects and you can’t help but curse at him, the anxiety taking over - what if you’re too late?

"I know I signed up for this and all, but... if I die, it's still your fault and I will not hold back on blaming you."

“Nobody is going to kill you.”, he chuckles.

You roll your eyes: “Clearly, you haven’t met my mother.”

“I’ll just swoon her off her feet, too.”, he smirks and you pretend to gag at him.

He checks his phone: “We’re fine, Theo says, they’re still gathering all the students.”

You sigh in relief: “Theo deserves the greatest head for warning us like this.”

He turns around to face you, almost as if you’re insane, like he can’t believe your audacity, his jaw clenched: “Do I need to remind you of who’s name you moaned 30 minutes ago?”

Your eyes narrow in confusion until you finally get it and you can’t help but smirk: “I meant a joint.”

“Oh.”, he looked dumbfounded.

“You jealous, baby?”

The both of you arrive at the Great Hall and before you can enter Mattheo grabs your arm and halts you from entering.

You stare at him confused and expectantly.

“This is more than just sex to me, princess.”, he looks at you, his eyes filled with so much vulnerability you soften at his words and your inside starts to fill with joy, you had hoped this is how it would be between you guys, even if you had been fine with just staying friends as well.

“I feel the same”, you smile at him and squeeze his hand.

He smiles back and you make your way into the Great Hall, the both of you skillfully and undetected make your way to your friends and stand next to them.

When they spot you they greet you with laughter and smiles, Theo winked at the both of you and all of you waited for the roll call, all while your hand never left Mattheos grasp.

“Y’know we’ll continue later, right?”, he whispers in your ear and when you turn around you’re met with his smug grin and the brightest shining eyes in the room and you smile feeling absolutely content and you can’t wait to taste the taste of lollipops and cigarettes again.