#regulus black x twin!reader

[jallerentrags]

Better than him.

James Potter x Reader, based on 'Boyfriend' by Dove Cameron.

James Potter thought of himself as a lucky man.

He had everything he wanted: Good grades, good friends, a good life. The only thing he wanted, which he worried he might never have, was you.

Y/n Cassiopeia Black, twin sister to the elusive and handsome Regulus Black. But despite being at the same school, and being best mates with your older brother, the space between the both of you was almost impossible to cross. You were cold and indifferent - sticking with your friends and Regulus - and avoided James like the plague. You rarely spoke, supposedly scorned by his theft of your older brother, and when you did converse, it was usually under the watchful eyes of Charles Nott, your betrothed.

At the age of 16, you had been auctioned and sold to the highest bidder, wrapped in his vice like grip. James watched from the side-lines as the eyes that used to shine like her brother's name-sake, faded.

He had tried to become besotted with Lily, a beautiful and intelligent girl, but it was futile. Your power over him was strong, his urge to move on with Lily too weak. But a strong friendship between the Head Boy and Girl did blossom, so James ended up ranting to Lily about his situation.

“James I don’t know what to say. Y/n is one of the most prized girls in school and her circle is small. Your best bet to get her attention is to ask Sirius to introduce you,” Lily paused to brush her long hair out of her eyes and behind her shoulder with a thoughtful look, “Of course, that’s if she’s willing to speak to Sirius, I don’t think I’ve seen them together since last year.”

James sighed. He already knew that you had closed yourself off after losing your brother, and he grimaced thinking about how hurt you must feel. He knew that Sirius was still mourning his loss as heir to the House of Black, and heard him crying at night when his ache for his little siblings grew too heavy.

“I know,” James fiddled with his glasses, face heating up. “Maybe it’s best if I just leave it. It’s a pipe dream that a girl like that would ever go for a guy like me.” James moved to pick up his books from the library table and head to his dorm, mood low. Lily gasped and slapped his hand away.

“Definitely not! I remember Remus telling me that you two were completely smitten and oblivious to it despite belonging to rival houses. The James Potter should definitely not give up this easily,” Lily’s brows were lowered in an expression of seriousness, her lips thin, “I’ve got an idea. You know the Christmas Ball is this weekend?”

Of course James knew the Christmas Ball was this weekend. The whole school had been preparing for it since it was announced early November, a night of bliss and relaxation to temporarily ignore the deteriorating state of the outside World. James’ parents had already sent him his dress robes, and he saw that last Tuesday you had received a large parcel in the mail which he guessed must of been your dress.

“Yes, but I don’t see why that matters? She’ll be going with Charles. He proposed in August.” James spat, anger lacing into his words. Lily merely rolled her eyes and huffed.

“So? Steal her away! Ask her to dance and charm her! I’m sure it won’t be that difficult, it’s not as if she’s in love with Nott,” Lily placed her hands on the table and leaned towards him, “She’ll definitely leave him for you, she’s always been sympathetic towards muggle-born’s and I heard her talking about how she wishes she didn’t have to marry Nott. Give her a reason, Be her reason, and she’ll leave her supremacist family and be with you.” James scoffed and leaned back in his chair, watching as Lily reclined also.

“I don’t think it’ll be that easy. She loves Regulus and she fits the role as ‘Slytherin’s Princess’ perfectly. I don’t want to put myself out there for her if she’s already too far gone.”

“Believe me. She’s not. People don’t look at each other like you two do.” Lily smiled at him, certainty blazing in her emerald eyes, “You could be her new beginning, and I really think she wants that. She loves Regulus and she always will, but I know that he would value her happiness and I doubt that she wouldn’t love to have a reason to escape,” Lily’s hand reached over to James’ and clasped it, “I really believe that you two would work. I want to see you happy James, please trust me.”

James’ lips formed a smile, and he felt hope blare in his chest. If Lily, the smartest girl he knew, believed that he stood a chance, then he had faith. He squeezed her hand and stood up, collecting his books and shoving them into his bag.

“I trust you, now watch me get my girl.”

————————————————————————-

The Great Hall looked beautiful, you thought, as you entered. The ceiling showcased a clear starry sky, and the decorations shone and sparkled in the candle light. Ice sculptures decorated the corners, and 12 great circle tables surrounded a square dance floor and far off, adjacent the teachers table, was a long buffet and drinks table laden with Honeydukes delights and crisp pumpkin juice. Charles, your financeé, gripped your hand tighter and dragged you to a table with his friends, only slightly admitting how beautiful you looked in your F/c gown. Charles' friends briefly acknowledged you (with a few appreciative eyebrow raises) before ignoring your presence entirely. Across the room, you spotted your older brother and his friends, who hadn't seemed to notice your entrance just yet. Sirius looked remarkable like always, a classic example of the Black families striking looks. Even Remus looked quite handsome in his robes, and Peter had cleaned up nicely. Admittedly, you thought, James looked incredibly good in his robes and had caught your eye as soon as you entered the Great Hall. His robes were tailored to his fit physique perfectly, and his hazel eyes shone with excitement. Although he hadn't managed to tame his hair, you secretly appreciated how well it framed his face.

"Admiring the blood traitor, Y/n?" Rosier, one of Charles' close friends, scoffed. You turned back to the table, missing James' look your way, and shot a smile in Rosier's direction.

"Of course not," you replied, entangling your arm from Charles' grip, "But you have to admit that he does look very enjoyable in his robes." you smirked, watching as Charles' face contorted into a sneer. He made to grab for you, already muttering about your incompetence with an extremely angry look on his face. He wrapped his hand around your arm hard, pulling you close enough to whisper in your ear. Despite being pulled into his side, his body still angled away from you, like you didn't matter at all. From across the hall, you wondered whether it looked like it was a lover's embrace. It was anything but. You spared no love for Charles, and it was no secret. Rosier and the others all sniggered, slurs tumbling from their lips and their faces a mixture of disgust and outrage.

"Y/n, you should watch your mouth. You don't want people thinking that you agree with your mutt of a brother, do you?" Charles asked, his face settling into a blank stare. Your brows lowered and your lips curled, before quickly schooling features once more. You simply hummed, avoiding Charles' eyes. "Now run along to Regulus. I'll come to you when I need you." He unwrapped his hand from your arm and pushed you away, before turning back to his group. You wondered through Hall, greeting friends, before making a bee-line for your twin. The dancing had begun, a light tempo that sent couples soaring over the floor. You watched in admiration, the way they held each other, looking into each others eyes like no one else existed, souls mingling and stretching across the floor. You wished you could be swept along the floor, lost in the steps and the feel of your partners hands. The partner you imagined never had the Nott green eyes and cigar scented yellowed palms, he always had the face of your older brother's best friend.

From behind you, you heard somebody cough to catch your attention, and you turned on your heel to come face to face with James Potter, watching his already huge smile grow wider. His hands were in his trouser pockets, his body angled towards you so completely that you couldn't even acknowledge other's brushing up against you.

"I can't believe we're finally alone, I've been trying to catch you since you arrived, you look so beautiful," James revealed, blush drifting across his cheeks, "I almost went back up to the dorm."

"Well that would've been a shame, Potter" you smiled back, easing towards him, "I was hoping to see you on the dance floor."

James laughed, a sound that sent shudders down your spine and took his hand out of his pocket to push up his glasses that had fallen down his nose. "What are the chances? I wanted to see you on the dance floor too," James squared his shoulders and cleared his throat "Everyone's dancing, yet you aren't, somebody that I know is stuck by dance fever frequently, and he's not with you," James leaned forward and smirked, "the Universe must of divined us, little Black, it looks like we're destined to dance together tonight."

You could almost see the thoughts fly across his face as he grabbed your wrist before you could even object, pulling you towards the dance floor. The music had changed to a sweet, mouldable beat, sweeping partners across the floor in unique waltzes and dips. James positioned you on the floor, a large hand leaving a burning touch on you waist and the other slipping into you awaiting hand as you breathlessly laughed. Your hands fit together perfectly, just like his hand rested so perfectly on the curve of your waist. He started leading, smiling down at you as though you placed the stars in the sky, a twinkle in his bespectacled eyes. You followed readily, returning his smile and placing you hand on his shoulder, heat building and spreading under your dress at your close contact.

You were flying, soaring, just two people in a sea of revellers. You didn't slip from his gaze, totally unfettered, lost in him. You never stumbled, never faltered, you recalled every conversation, every lingering glance, every lasting touch, knowing you were utterly enthralled. James looked the same, captivated by your presence, stuck in your energy. You saw the words bubble in him, and your heart soared when he stopped biting his tongue.

"Y/n," he whispered, drawing you closer, his face a picture intimacy, "I could be a better boyfriend than him," you sucked in air, but didn't draw from his arms. James tightened his grip on your hip as you looked deeply into his eyes, "I could do all the shit that he never does," he flared his fingers against your waist, "I'll stay up all night for you, I won't quit. I'm thinking that I'm going to steal you from him," he dropped his head to press against your forehead, your joined hands tight as you still manoeuvred around the floor, "I could be such a gentleman, plus all my clothes would look so good on you." You slowed to a stop, dancers fluttering around you as you ended up at a loss for words, mouth agape and your heart singing. "I could be so much better for you than him."

"James..." you unlaced your joined hands, already missing his touch, as he stared at you desperately. You knew that everything he said was true, and James was nothing if not an honest man. He made you smile, kept you safe, always thought of you as the prettiest girl in the room. You were in love with James Potter, but it wasn't as easy as that. You had to worry about your brother, Regulus, and the future of your family. While your parents were definitely not kind and nurturing, they were all you had. You didn't have James Potter to whisk you away if Sirius didn't allow him too. You wanted James, more than you'd ever want Charles and his prejudice. Your eyes watered, and you suddenly felt lost.

"I don't need to tell you twice all the ways he can't suffice, he wouldn't care about your happiness, or your dancing or your smile," James' unwavering hope warmed you, cocooning you in a safety net when you felt like you were falling from the Astronomy Tower. James wanted to be your new beginning, your second chance. He wanted to cuddle you on cold nights and to show you the beauty of the muggle world and all its secrets, "If I could give you some advice, baby, I'd leave with me tonight." His desperation slipped from his face, replaced with a confident smirk, as if he saw your facade melting, as if he could see you melting in his arms, as if he knew that you were going to choose him, just like you would every single time.

"You'll help me get through it?" you asked, and James immediately knew that you meant the sparking fall out between you and your parents, and the Nott family. James took your face in his hands, love shining in his eyes, before placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

"I'd give you my heart if you asked, darling, of course I'll help. Besides, what's another Black sibling in my house? if your brother comes I'll have the full set." you shared a laugh, biting back the tears that threatened to spill.

"You'd like that." you said between laughs.

"I'd love it." he answered, leaning back and taking your hand in his once again. He led you back off the dance floor, both of you blushing madly and smiling merrily. Towards the left of the hall, you spotted James' friends watching you both intently, glasses raised. Lily Evans seemed particularly excited, emerald eyes aglow with excitement as she waved enthusiastically and gave James a thumbs up. Sirius and Regulus stood further away, small smiles on their faces as they watched their little sister walk out of the hall with the resident trouble maker. No complaints rose up their throats, just unbridled joy for their sister who finally looked happy. James and Y/n didn't look at anyone else as they left hand in hand, not even at a furious Charles Nott, hands balled in tight fists. They ignored the open mouthed stares and muttered remarks, completely absorbed in each other.

The next day, Charles would arrive at his dorm to an owl waiting by the open window. Tied to his leg was a envelope, and Charles reached for it immediately. Ripping it open, he tore the piece of paper out and dumped its contents on his bed. Gleaming back at his sneering face was the ring he gave Y/n when he proposed, and scribbled on the letter was one sentence:

'I suppose you were right Charles, I do have a taste for blood-traitors.’

- Y/n Black and James Potter

[ellecdc]

Our Baby Has Four Feet?

poly!moonwater x pregnant!reader who find out they're having twins

CW: pregnancy, ultrasounds etc. I didn’t see either of the boys recovering from this advance the twins had on them - but I’m still dying that we could not decide who we’d prefer to be the bio dad hahahaha

This was the second moment in your pregnancy that you were convinced that Wizardingkind’s claim at being further advanced than muggles was completely unfounded. A simple charm cast on you at St. Mungo’s confirmed that you were, indeed, pregnant. But it was a muggle blood test at a walk-in clinic that told you how far along you were.

So, when Lily told you, Remus, and Regulus that she went to a muggle OBGYN for ultrasounds during her pregnancy with Harry, the boys were obsessed with the idea of getting to see the little life growing inside of you.

You found a clinic that was was understanding of your…unique lifestyle, and sat in a small room waiting for the doctor after being checked in by a nurse. 

“Regulus, please stop pacing.” You said quietly, repositioning yourself on the uncomfortable medical bed and wincing when the paper tore beneath you.

“Sorry.” He mumbled quickly as he sat down on one of the chairs, trapping his hands underneath him as if that would help his nervous fidgeting. 

“It’s going to be fine, bubs. This is standard; my mum had one done when she was pregnant with me.” Remus placated.

“Okay…okay, so it’s not invasive?”

You laughed. “Reggie, nothing happens. They just touch a camera to my belly and it shows what’s inside.”

Regulus blanched at that. “Will the baby feel it?”

Neither you nor Remus got to answer (or laugh at him) when the door opened and a Doctor wearing a bright smile entered the room. 

“Hello! You must be our mama?” She asked as she extended a hand to you, carrying on at your nod in affirmation. 

“My name is Doctor Bozelli. So, we’re here for an ultrasound?”

You nodded and looked towards Remus. “We’re about 19 weeks along now. This is our first ultrasound and our first pregnancy so we’re all a little new at this.” He explained to the doctor

“Well mazel tov! Alright; and are we finding out the sex of the baby?”

“I am, they won’t be.” You answered, causing the doctor’s face to spread into a cheeky smile.

“Okay, dads are leaving it as a surprise, got it. Okay mama, lean back for me and raise your top.”

You did as instructed as the doctor sanitized her hands and donned a pair of medical gloves.

“Alright, I’m just going to pull these down a little lower and tuck a sheet in so we don’t get gel on your trousers.”

You had no time to feel self conscious at so much of your midsection showing with an audience of three before the doctor was shaking a bottle of ultrasound gel.

“Now, this is going to feel cold, okay?” She said as she hovered it over your stomach.

“It’s not going to hurt her, is it?” Regulus asked hastily, earning him a none-too-gentle elbow in the side from Remus. 

“Ignore him; I do.” You offered the doctor, voice coloured in embarrassment. 

“Everything is perfectly safe, dad.” She placated as she spread the - sure enough - cold gel over your stomach and placed the doppler over the area. 

The room was quiet as the doctor searched for…well, you supposed the baby, though there really wasn’t anywhere for them to hide.

“This is your first ultrasound you said?” The doctor queried, causing Regulus to stand up quickly. 

“Yes.” You offered at the same time as Regulus barked “what’s wrong?”

The doctor chuckled before she responded. “Nothing’s wrong dad. Look.” 

She turned the screen towards the three of you and both boys learned further overtop of you to get a better look. 

“I….I’m so sorry but what are we supposed to be looking at?” Remus said; braver than you and Reg to admit you had no idea what was going on.

“See here?” The doctor said as she pointed to two little blobs that you could almost feel pushing into your stomach. “These are a pair of feet.”

The doctor was interrupted by the sound of Remus ‘awe’-ing before she continued.

“And these here are another pair.”

The room fell painfully silent as the three of you stared at the monitor.

“Our baby has four feet?” Regulus breathed out in disbelief. 

The doctor chuckled as she moved the doppler slightly and pointed out something else on the screen. “Well, seeing as there are two heartbeats; I’d reckon it’s less that one baby has four feet and more that there are two babies.”

“Two heartbeats?” Remus breathed out.

“One of them’s mine, right?” You asked nervously. 

The teasing that the doctor’s face had when speaking with Regulus and Remus fell into a more serious expression as she smiled at you. “No, mum. We wouldn’t see the fluttering of your pulse down here.”

The room stayed silent as the doctor moved the camera over your stomach; snapping screenshots every so often as she went. 

“Twins?” 

The doctor hummed in confirmation at Remus’ question as she took a few more pictures.

“One appears to be smaller than the other though, which would suggest they were not conceived at the same time.”

Regulus choked on air as he began pacing again. “Can’t one just be smaller than the other?” He asked; his voice taking on an almost shrill quality. 

“Not when the size difference is this dramatic, no. One of the twins is younger, I’d say by perhaps two weeks”

“Shut up.” You barked, causing all three heads to turn in your direction.

“Dove, it-”

“Shut up. No, one of the heartbeat’s is mine.”

“Amour, try to take some deep breaths, yeah?” Reg tried as he put a gentle hand on your ankle.

You kicked at him. 

“Don’t touch me. Did Sirius put you up to this?” You asked the doctor severely.

“S…Serious?”

“My brother; he’s a prankster.” Regulus explained at the doctors confusion. 

“No mama, this isn’t a prank. It’s called superfetation; though rare, your body can release two or more eggs during the same menstrual cycle, which can then be fertilized at different points.” She explained as if she were reciting notes from her medical student’s textbook. 

You stared unseeingly at the monitor that displayed not one, but two of your future children as Remus and Regulus continued asking questions.

“Are both of them healthy?” Regulus asked first, to which the doctor agreed quickly. 

“The younger one seems to be developing normally; their sibling hasn’t been strong-holding them for space or nutrients.”

“What can we expect from this type of pregnancy?” Remus asked.

“Does this increase certain risks for mum or babies?” Regulus added. 

“Oh, Merlin.” You breathed quietly, covering your face with your hands.

Remus’ hand was quickly on your shoulder, and whatever had compelled you to kick out at Regulus before was long gone as you turned towards Remus; his hand feeling like a grounding point keeping you from floating off into oblivion. 

“I’ll give you guys a few moments, okay?” The doctor asked quietly and excused herself after passing you some paper towel for the gel on your stomach. 

You let out an embarrassing hiccup as you pulled the cloth from your trousers, but Regulus’ hands were quickly taking over the task for you.

Remus had one hand on your shoulder and the other cradling your head as his thumb strokes at the baby hairs near your temple, allowing you to silently cry. 

Unfortunately, the gentle and loving way Regulus cleaned your stomach and righted your clothing only made you cry harder.

“Come on, sit up dove.” Remus encouraged as he pulled you up by your arms. 

Once you were sat upright, he was crouching down in front of you as Regulus moved behind you, wrapping his arms around your midsection - hands landing protectively over your growing stomach - as he rested his chin on your shoulder.

“That was quite the news, huh?” Remus asked quietly as he drew circles with his thumb on your thigh.

You nodded your head yes as new tears fell. 

“But sweetheart, you’ve grown two healthy babies and you didn’t even know it. You’re doing a wonderful job.” Regulus insisted, voice muffled as he pressed his lips into your jaw. 

“I know this is more than we bargained for, but I think we can manage between the three of us, yeah?” Remus offered, causing Regulus to scoff.

“Please, we won’t be able to keep their aunts and uncles away.”

You chuckled wetly at that as you wiped at your face. “Can we not tell them?”

“Tell who what, amour?”

“I don’t want to tell anyone it’s twins; let’s just surprise them.”

Regulus scoffed as Remus let out a boisterous laugh. “Absolutely mischievous dove, I love it. This is the best prank the Marauders will never see coming.”

“It would be nice to see my brother struck dumb.” Regulus mused.

“Then it’s settled.” Remus murmured, pressing his ear to your stomach. “Our babies will be born pranksters.”

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜' ⟡ 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟹

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters'. your first day goes very poorly . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 5.1k

⟢ warnings: there is talk about the reader's previous hostile home environment, although it's not pictured. walburga black is implied to be mentally unstable. a theme here is the lasting impact growing up in that environment has on a person: reader fears becoming like her parents, longs for a more loving environment, doesn't handle her emotions very well, and picks fights. both anger and sadness are dealt with unhealthily by different characters. if there is anything i should add here, please please let me know.

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: well! yikes! angst! i'm not sure i like the vision but i’m trying to remind myself this is a hobby and doesn’t have to be perfect <3

“A walk?” You questioned with a raspy voice.

“Mhm,” James nodded, “Just around the yard. Think it’ll help you feel better.”

You let James lead you to the back door, hand and hand. When he opened it, you discovered that “yard” was a bit of an understatement. The Potters’ property was larger than you knew— enormous, really. Lush garden beds thrived nearest to the house, and the grassy green beyond was surely where James practiced quidditch over the summers. The large trees scattered around the outskirts of the property made you picture a younger James climbing them.

James led you into the grassy landscape, taking notice of your awestricken expression as your eyes fall on Euphemia’s garden.

“I knew you’d like it out here.”

“It’s beautiful,” you mused, stopping to admire a bed of flowers. James dipped down and plucked one from the ground.

He fit it behind your ear and winked, “Don’t tell my mum.”

You frowned, reaching up to remove the flower from your hair. You twirled it inbetween your fingers.

“Your mum must think so poorly of me now,” you muttered, staring down at the flower.

“What? Why would you say that?”

“The first thing Sirius and I did after we were invited to stay is have a screaming match in the dining room. We sure know how to make ourselves feel at home,” you laughed bitterly. “And now she knows we’re together. Didn’t even get to properly tell her. I can’t imagine what she thinks of me.”

“Hey, look at me.” James said in a stern but gentle voice. You wonder how all the Potters can sound so kind even when they’re working up to a lecture.

You peered up through your eyelashes. James sported a pretty smile, and that alone made you feel a little better.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he said, “My mum’s not one to jump to any conclusions. She trusts me, alright? And don't worry about your fight with Sirius. No one's expecting this to be easy for you. For either of you."

James continued, “Besides, we all let our emotions get the best of us sometimes, yeah? We’re human. My parents will understand.”

James could tell you over and over again that it’s okay to be angry and it’s okay to slip up, but you didn’t think any amount of it would ever make it feel okay. You wondered how he could even believe it.

It surprised you, actually, how mature and level-headed James could be. We’re human so it’s just okay if our emotions get the best of us sometimes? Who actually thinks like that?

At your house, you had to be nothing short of perfect at all times. Now that you’ve seen Fleamont and Euphemia in parent mode, you can see where James learned it all. You never had anything like that, and it was difficult to wrap your mind around it.

Especially because it wasn’t too long ago that James was one of Hogwarts’ biggest trouble makers—his pranks were the epitome of immature. Evidently, he's grown up a lot recently.

Stupidly, you felt bitter about it. Which was completely absurd, you thought. Because surely you were not jealous of your boyfriend because he learned how to regulate his emotions better than you did. Because he was growing up, maturing? And you… well you don’t know what you’re doing. You felt stuck, like you’d always be a scared little kid who needs her older brothers’ no matter how old you got.

“Maybe you’re right,” you said, not really knowing what else to say. You were compelled to change the subject, “I’m worried about Regulus.”

“I know,” James began leading you around the garden again. You dropped the flower back where it came from, not wanting to be caught red handed with a freshly murdered flower from Effie’s garden.

“We have to get him out of there,” you sighed.

James looked at you through the corner of his eye. Apprehensively, he said, “From what Sirius told me, you guys barely got out of there.”

“Yeah, so we’ll need a really good plan so that we don’t get caught.”

James turned his head to look straight at you. He looked at you like you had two heads.

“What, you want to break him out or something? You want to go back there?”

“We have to. Regulus–“

“Regulus made his choice.” James interrupted warily.

You felt your heart sink into your stomach, “Please, not you too.”

“You heard what Sirius said. Regulus was given the option, and he chose to stay behind,” James tried to reason.

James knew how much your twin meant to you, it wasn't a surprise that you'd be worried about him. But to go back to that house? That was a step too far for his comfort. The moment that Sirius admitted exactly what his mother had done to him, James knew he'd never let either of you near her again. Something must've snapped in Walburga Black— she has been teetering on the edge for years, but she has unmistakably gone from being a cruel mother to an outright unstable woman.

The though of Regulus still being around her made him sick. Even though James didn't know him that well, he still found himself caring about him. It was likely an extension of your love for Regulus manifesting in James, who cared for you so deeply that your concerns became his. But that's just it— you're the one who he really cared for. Above all else, it's you he wanted to protect.

“He did not choose to stay behind,” you raised your voice, offended that James could ever think so.

“Love...”

James didn't mean to, but he looked at you with pity in his eyes, as if he thought you were in denial.

Anger flared up in your chest when you registered his expression, “No, don’t do that. Just because Sirius said so doesn’t mean it’s true. Regulus wouldn’t just choose them over us. Sirius– he doesn't have his facts straight.”

James didn’t say anything. What could he? It sounded like you were implying that Sirius was lying and James knew Sirius wouldn't do that.

For the record, you didn't think Sirius would lie either. But he was absolutely capable of missing something.

“You don’t believe me,” your mouth hung open after your words.

“It’s not that.” James rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably, “I believe you, but I believe Sirius too. And Sirius said that Regulus refused to come. Whatever the reason, that's the choice he made. I’m not going to let you put yourself in danger for a– a lost cause.”

His words stopped you in your tracks.

“A lost cause?"

You had never been so affronted by James. He might not know Regulus nearly as well as he knows you or Sirius, but the fact that he could easily tag him as a lost cause was unbelievable.

"Don’t be an idiot, James. How could you say that?”

James had kept walking for a couple more paces, so he had to turn to face you. He tried to cover the way the venom in your voice made him flinch.

“You can’t force him to leave,” he said, sounding as understanding as he could muster, but he needed to get through to you.

Phantom alarm bells were ringing in his ears, his desperation for you to hear him growing. You were stubborn and you'd do anything for your brothers, James knows this all to well. But not this. He couldn't let you do this. He wouldn't let you go back there.

“Merlin, you’re siding with Sirius!” you accused, giving in to the anger burning in your chest.

James tried to remain calm as he spoke.

“I’m not siding with anyone.”

“Yes, you are! How could I be so stupid? Of course you’d choose Sirius over me!"

James features twist in anguish, "Love–"

"This is what I get for falling for my brother’s best friend. When there's a choice, it will always be him, won’t it?” You spat, glaring at James in a way that almost knocked him off his feet.

He was completely taken aback; you two had never fought like this. He tried to take some semblance of control over the situation, “Okay, you’re angry right now, and that’s okay–“

“Oh, would you stop that!” you shouted. A small part of you hoped the sound wouldn’t travel back to the house, but a bigger part of you was consumed with a growing rage. That part didn’t seem to care.

“Stop what?” James knitted his brows.

“Being some master of emotions all of a sudden! I’m accusing you of picking Sirius over me! I’m raising my voice at you! I’m calling you names! Why won’t you fight back? Yell at me, do something!”

James took a deep breath, “I’m not going to do that.”

He sounded completely calm and collected. Somehow, that pissed you off.

“Oh, you’re so perfect, aren’t you?”

“What?” James felt like he was going crazy, unable to decipher what he could possibly be doing wrong.

“Perfect James Potter, wouldn’t hurt a fly these days! You could never–! never lose your cool, could you?” you shouted.

James gaped at you. He couldn't be mad even if we wanted to; he was just confused. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? You yourself didn’t even seem to know what you were saying, your words tumbling out awkwardly as you said things even you knew weren’t true.

It’s not like James never lost the reign on his emotions. He throws his quidditch gear around when he loses a match, he can’t control his frustration when he doesn’t do well in class, he isolates himself when he’s sad instead facing it, he does a whole lot of things that he’s not proud of.

And you’ve seen it all before, but for some reason, you’ve chosen not to remember those moments. All you can think about is how you were so angry and scared, and he was so understanding and level-headed. And how you grew up with screaming matches and unfair punishments, and he probably got to grow up with calm discussions and soft spoken apologies. And it all felt so unfair.

“Are you–? Sorry, you're mad at me because I'm not getting mad at you? I’m sorry, I guess?”

“I don’t want you to be sorry I want you to yell at me! Be mad at me, fight with me!” You felt the familiar sensation of tears welling up in your eyes.

James looked shellshocked. Truthfully, he didn’t know how to deal with you like this, he’s never seen this before. Sure, sometimes you bicker— all couples do— but this was reaching an uncharted territory.

"I'm not going to yell at you for wanting to keep your brother safe–"

"Then yell at me because you think I'm naive for thinking I can get him out of there. Fight with me because I think you're an idiot for thinking Regulus is a lost cause!"

You were trying to rile him up, James knew this, and he so badly wanted to not let if affect him. Not because it was making him angry, no, it was making him sad.

But he couldn't fight it.

And James always does the same thing when he's sad.

“I think we need to take a step back from this conversation. Why don’t we go inside?” James offered.

He sounded like he stole that line from some therapist's book on navigating conflict. It made you want to scream.

“You go inside! I’m going to keep walking.” You pushed past him, deliberately letting your shoulder collide with his as you stormed away.

James let the blow knock him back a step, too thrown off to do anything else. He listened to your receding footsteps and he wanted to be the type of boyfriend who runs after you when you’re upset. Who holds you and listens to you until you can work out the problem. Instead—

“Just stay by the house, okay?” he called over his shoulder.

“Yeah, whatever.”

A few hot angry tears slid down your face. You aggressively wiped them away and willed any more tears to dry up. You were tired of crying.

You stomped around the gardens and grass, thinking of Regulus and how he deserved better than siblings who left him behind to find refuge with a boy who wouldn't think twice about rescuing him too.

Leaving that house was something you'd always dreamed of. But you had imagined both of your brothers by your side. No one was ever supposed to be abandoned.

Sirius just didn’t understand how horrible being alone in that house was. You and Regulus had already experienced a taste of it when he went off to Hogwarts a year before you two. Not to mention, Sirius was always the strongest of you, so without him, navigating that house was a whole new terrain.

Maybe that’s what Sirius senses is different about your relationship with Regulus. Those nine months were probably the worst of your life, and Reg is who you went through them with.

And maybe that's why you were so adamant that Regulus can’t be left there alone while everyone else seems ready to abandon all hope. Your parents had never been more furious than when Sirius was sorted into Gryffindor all those years ago. You suspected that they would be worse, angrier than ever after the departure Sirius orchestrated for you and him. You couldn’t let Regulus face that alone.

Somewhere along the line, worry for Regulus took precedence over the anger that held your gentle love for James hostage. By the time you came to a large trees on the outskirts of the lawn, the anger from the previous argument had simmered.

As you plopped down in the dirt and sat against its trunk, you tried not to be annoyed that taking a step away from that conversation really worked.

You took in your surroundings to distract yourself. It was to no avail, as a nearby shed caught your eye. Through its open window, you could see James’ broom and other quidditch gear.

“You idiot,” you chastised yourself aloud. You let your head fall into your hands as a million nasty thoughts about yourself raced through your mind, the most prominent being you’re just like your mother.

It was just like her to pick fights. You couldn’t breathe in that house without her telling you that you were doing it wrong. She always found something to yell at you for.

How could I act like that, you winced as you recalled the fight you just walked away from.

Poor James, who you yelled at for not being mad at you. It really was just like her to get upset over something so irrational. You felt ill over the similarity, and you were overwhelmed with a sense of impending doom.

You couldn't let yourself be doomed to your parents' fate. You wanted to be kind, reasonable, rational. So, what wouldn't they do in this situation?

A safe assumption would be that they wouldn't feel bad, so you're already on the right track it seems.

They also wouldn't apologize.

Okay, yeah. Apologize. You could apologize.

You have to apologize.

Just go apologize.

But you just couldn’t get yourself to move. You were frozen in shame for your behavior, the only movement was the rise and fall of your chest from your labored breath.

James Potter did not like feeling sad. It was unsettling, uncomfortable, so utterly unlike him.

Whenever it happened, he tried to hide from it. He'd lock himself away somewhere before he'd dare face it head on— or admit that it's there at all.

The last time he was sad, he let himself fall asleep in the common room just so he wouldn't have to face his friends back at his dorm. And when his childhood pet died, he didn't mention it for months, only alerting his friends to his cat's passing when Peter asked how old his cat was again.

It's not that James thought there was anything wrong with being sad. He definitely didn't believe in any of that nonsense that real men don't cry. In fact, he was always the first to offer his shoulder if any of his friends were upset, back pats and let-it-all-outs at the ready.

But when it was him, when he was the one with the lump in his throat and a pit in his stomach, he couldn't handle sadness anymore. It made him feel vulnerable, and he wanted to be the strong one, the brave one. The one who lights up a room with the force of the sun and brings humor and fun into everyone's days.

So, when he couldn't be that, he'd rather be alone. He'd rather sit isolated in a dimly lit room where the darkness can't touch anyone but himself.

His bed creaked under his weight as he shifted in place, the only movement he has made in several minutes.

He was trying to be still and let his mind focus on nothing but his breathing. He was especially trying not to think of your argument.

He counted out his inhales and exhales, just as he had learned years ago in divination class.

James took divination for one year only. It wasn't for him, but one thing from that class did stick with him— the lesson on mindfulness. Something about mediation and a clear head opening your mind to frequencies you may not normally be able to comprehend.

James wasn't sure about all that, but he quite liked the calmness of the exercise they did in class that day, even if he felt a bit silly doing it.

He finds himself repeating the meditation from that class when he's down. He much prefers a clear head to one with racing thoughts that give him that choked up feeling in his throat.

He was broken out of his feeble attempt at a meditative state when there was a knock at his door.

Hope swelled in his stomach. Maybe you've come to talk. Maybe he could smooth things over with you. And then he could stop feeling like this.

He tried not to look disappointed when Sirius walked through the door.

Sirius gave James a once over as the door clicked shut behind him, "What's wrong with you?"

"Me?" James forced a chuckle, "Nothing's wrong with me."

"You're sitting at the foot of your bed, starin' at the floor, shoulders slumped," Sirius' hand swept towards James' hunched form, "I know what upset looks like, Prongs."

"I'm not upset," James insisted still, "I'm just thinking. Is being lost in thought a crime these days?"

Sirius shrugged, plopping down on the bed next to James. His legs hung over the edge as he let his back hit the sheets, his arms sprawled at his sides.

James listened as Sirius puffed out a long, exhausted breath.

"You alright?" James asked, not bothering to look back, letting his sad eyes remain fixed on the floor.

"Ah, I see. Worried about me, are you?" Sirius guessed.

James seized the opportunity to excuse his demeanor. Besides, he wanted to talk about what Sirius had said earlier anyway.

"You did have a pretty nasty spat with your sister. And then you nearly collapsed."

There's a lull in the conversation for a moment as Sirius thinks.

"Your parents fixed me right up again. Gave me some nasty potion to help with the dizziness. Tasted like sewage but 'm good as new. They're off now, by the way, picking up some herbs they want to steep and feed me for these spasms I keep having in my hands."

James winced. Spasms, a potential side effect of being under the Cruciatus Curse.

"Sirius... about what you said happened. Your mother–"

"I don't want to talk about that," Sirius spoke quietly, somberly.

After a moment, Sirius added, "I don't want to think about any of them ever again."

James felt a pang in his heart, knowing Regulus was included in 'them'. You wouldn't have stood for it if you'd heard Sirius say that.

James' mind wanders back to your earlier argument, his earlier attempts to avoid these thoughts futile now. You were so adamant that you needed to go back for Regulus, ready to dive into some sort of escape plan, and that still scared the hell out of James.

He considered telling Sirius about what you wanted to do. One on hand, he knew Sirius would be on board with keeping you the hell away from there— keeping you safe. On the other hand, it felt like tattling on you to your brother.

James thought about the betrayal written across your face earlier. How hurt you were when you suspected James was choosing to believe Sirius over you. Confiding in Sirius now would surely, surely make it worse. And James didn't want to hurt you.

And yet—

"Thing is... I have to talk to you about something. About your sister... and about Regulus."

A flinch finally broke you out of your statue-like state when a sudden and distinct fluttering sounded above you. You expected to see any mundane bird when you looked up, but there was nothing there. You leaned around the tree to try to locate the source.

Instead of any random creature of flight, it was a familiar owl. And he was not in the tree, rather next to it, in a designated perch located on the other side of the thick trunk.

"Oh. Hello," you greeted the owl. He stared at you blankly, of course.

You've met this owl before. His name was Glory. You didn't know why, but James had named him, and you supposed that it was a name that James would have thought of.

You've received countless letters from James, all delivered by Glory. There were the long ones, which you mostly received during the times you were apart. Glory was good at discretely delivering them to your window. And if James also had mail for Sirius, he knew to deliver yours first.

James was always checking up on you over the holidays, making sure you were okay and telling you stories of his own time at home that would take your mind off of whatever horrible things were going on at Grimmauld Place.

When you were together, back at Hogwarts, James still sent you little notes whenever you weren't near. He knew how much you loved receiving notes from him, so he made it a habit. He would send notes about things he saw that reminded him of you, expressions of how much he missed you even if he'd seen you mere hours prior, declarations of love that he couldn't keep inside until the next time he'd be alone with you.

Oh, your sweet boy.

"I really messed up, didn't I?" You asked Glory. You chided yourself for continuing to try to talk to an owl. Not that owls weren’t smart. In fact, they were very intelligent, especially the magical sort. Glory could understand you, but it’s not like he had the ability to respond. 

You imagined that Glory would tell you that you messed up big time if he did, though.

You pushed yourself up to your feet, wiping dirt and twigs off your pants when you rose. As you walked back towards the house, you wondered if your mother ever felt sorry like this, if she ever wanted to apologize sometimes. Surely, at some point she did. James' words come back to you about how we're all human, and you want to believe that maybe there was a memory lost in your mind of her apologizing to you.

You'd have been a wide-eyed little kid at the time, snot-nosed and teary-eyed after she yelled at you for spilling milk or leaving a toy in the middle of the floor. She'd wrap her arms around you and apologize for raising her voice. Then she'd shush and coo soothingly until your tears dried up and you could show her all of your baby teeth in a wide grin.

It was unnatural, the image of her in your mind like that, but your heart burned for it to be real. As sick as it was, you still yearned for your mother's love, even if it was a thing of the past.

Maybe your house really was a poison. Because if she had ever been gentle, one way or another, Walburga Black got colder and harsher over the years. She spiraled so deep into darkness that she seemed to want to be cruel. After all, to cast the Cruciatus Curse, you do have to really want it.

Each step you took was invigorated with a new sense of determination. Apologizing to James now, owning up to your mistake, it was only the first step of doing everything in your power to never be anything like that woman.

It felt like no time passed at all by the time you arrived outside of James' door. You didn't feel ready to face him, but you raised your fist anyway. Just when knuckles were about to meet wood, you heard a muffled voice from inside.

"What do you think?" James' voice asked softly. Then, after a beat of silence, "Did you hear me?"

"Yeah, James, I heard you," Sirius said. He had that far away kind of tone in his voice he gets when he's trying to distance himself from his emotions.

"And?"

"And I'm bloody tired of talking about him!" Sirius barked. Even from the safety of the other side of the door, you flinched.

"She doesn't get it. She'll never get it because it's him," your brother continued. "If she had known he wasn't coming she probably wouldn't be here either. If it's a choice, it'll be him over me in a heartbeat. He could've done the bloody spell on me himself and she'd still choose him. Merlin, she could've done the bloody spell if he asked her to."

If felt like the wind was knocked out of you. You bit your tongue until you drew blood, fighting the urge to cry out, as if Sirius' words physically wounded you.

Rationally, you knew that Sirius was just angry, that he didn't mean it. But the rational side of your brain hasn't been winning many battles today.

You vaguely heard James tell Sirius not to say things like that as you backed away from his door until you met the wall behind you with a thump.

There was silence from inside James' room for mere seconds before the door was ripped open. Sirius stood in the doorway, James behind him. You couldn't read your brother's expression, there barely was one. How typical of him to hide behind a blank stare.

You, however, were wide eyed with a hand clamped over your mouth, leaning against the wall behind you, sure you'd collapse without its support.

Sirius began to say your name and suddenly your hand was gone and the words were tumbling from your lips.

"How could you say that?" Your voice was strained, "I wouldn't ever do that– He wouldn't ever do that!"

Sirius' eyes bore into yours but he didn't say anything. You wished you could tell what he was thinking under that stupid mask of his.

"I shouldn't have to tell you over and over again that I love you both. You are both my brothers, you both mean the world to me. It's so irrational and– and foolish to worry about a choice that I'd never–"

You cut yourself off. The irony of being so hurt by Sirius' words were not lost on you. You had only just been accusing James of choosing Sirius over yourself.

"No, that's not true," Sirius bit back, "because that choice is upon you now. So, go ahead. Let's see if you can surprise me."

"What?"

"Choose me, stay here where it's safe. Choose Regulus, go right ahead and try to be his jailbreak. But when you can't convince him to leave, when he refuses, I won't be surprised when you choose to stay there too."

Your eyes flashed to James, who looks way too shameful for you to not put two and two together. You were conflicted; feelings of regret over accusing James of choosing Sirius over you were mixing with feelings of betrayal that James had ran right to Sirius with your words.

You'd let the guilt and betrayal sink in and shred you to pieces later. You had Sirius to deal with first.

"What is wrong with you?" you hissed. "How could you be so dim? Wanting our brother to be safe does not mean I'm choosing him over you."

"Color me unsurprised!" Sirius yelled, looking smug.

Your eyes began to burn, "Fuck you, Sirius!"

James tries to interrupt, "Er, hey, maybe we should–"

"Don't you dare tell me we need to take a step back from this conversation, James!"

James' mouth clamped shut.

"Don't yell at him!" Sirius squawks.

"You want to talk about choosing one person over another? Let's talk about it. Don't pretend you haven't given up on Regulus ever since you met his shiny new replacement!"

You'd feel real shitty about saying that in front of James later; the look on his face at your words was already burned into your memory.

"Don't turn this on me!" Sirius shouted.

"You're such a hypocrite. And an imbecile for thinking I care about you any less than Regulus. Of course I care about you both the same. And you may not believe it, but Regulus cares about you too!"

"That's–"

"I don't want to hear it," you interrupted, "I'm done. Say it James."

James looked like a deer in headlights, "What?"

"Say the thing!" you shouted.

"We need to take a step back from this conversation?"

Your arms flew up, gesturing towards James as you stared Sirius down with an exasperated look on your face. Your brother scoffed and stormed down the hall, disappearing to anywhere else in the Potters' home.

For a moment it was just you and James in the hall. Your eyes met and he looked anguished and far too apologetic. You knew that you were supposed to be the apologetic one, and you felt your heart begging you to let the sorrys loose.

It was too bad that the betrayal started settling in before the guilt.

"Sirius was right before. You are a snitch."

With that, you slipped back into your room and let the door slam shut behind you.

James remained in the hall for a moment longer, not knowing who to follow. He should follow one of you.

Instead, he decided to retreat back to his bedroom.

James wanted to be alone again.

[ravishinglavishingluvr]

loving is easy | poly!rosekiller x Black!oc

pairing: poly!rosekiller x black!reader, regulus’ twin warnings: fluff, gn!reader, not edited wc: 427

“finally! you’re back!” barty had announced with a smirk as evan entered the dungeons, his feet dragging along the cold stone floors. the slytherin common room was characteristically cold, the only warmth came from the fire in front of the you. as the night wore on, the number of occupants dwindled, yet the fire remained steadfast. all that remained were you, barty and regulus as you waited for evan to return from the library.

you and your twin turned to face the blond when the only reply he could muster was a heavy sigh. catching evan’s eye as he approached, you exchanged a small smile, though it seemed to take some effort from him.

“come sit, evan,” you gestured to the armchair opposite the three of you. “you look exhausted, my love.” evan only hummed in response. he slowly made his way towards the couch where his two lovers and friend sat, briefly caressing barty’s neck before stopping in front of regulus.

“shift it,” he murmurs to your twin.

“evan, there’s an empty chair right behind you,” regulus argues.

“reg,” evan sighs, “now if you’d please.” his tone left little room for argument.

regulus grumbles about his audacity now that he’s dating his sibling, but reluctantly moves anyway. evan slumps into the space next to you, arm resting on the back of the couch and legs spread in front of him. regulus and barty ease back into their conversation before evan’s arrival. you watch his face closely. feeling your gaze, evan tilts his head and offers another small smile that reaches his eyes, looking a little more relieved now. you return his smile with a wink and run your hand through the hair at the nape of his neck, his eyes couldn't help but close at the feeling.

as evan relaxed into the couch, he eased into the animated conversation. His arm slid from the back of the couch to around your shoulder. The comfort of your presence and the brush of barty’s arm against his fingertips gave him the solace he had being craving for the whole day. he sighed once again, shoulders drooping.

your eyes start to ache and grow heavy as it gets later, it takes all your effort to remain upright and attentive as the three boys converse spiritedly. you quiet down, and opt to listen to them talk in front of the crackling fire. but your head seems to grow more and more heavy as the late night turns to early morning. your head drops to rest on barty’s shoulder. noticing this, evan pulls your legs over his lap, guiding you into a lying position where you rested your head onto barty’s bouncing leg that stills almost immediately.

that’s how the rest of your night passed, your head in barty’s lap and evan gently caressing your ankles as the three of them talk and you offer a remark or a laugh at their bickering. eventually the conversation drowns out and your eyes begin to drift closed, and the only thing you can hear is the muffled conversation and the roaring fire. the only thing you can feel is the scratch and tug of barty's fingers at the hair near the nape of your neck, and the worshipping, barely-there drag of evan's palms against your ankles.

across from you, regulus watches evan pause the delicate attention on your ankles to pull the blanket draped over the back of the couch over your unmoving figure, and barty pulls the blanket to cover your shoulders that shiver underneath your thin pyjamas. the moment lasted only seconds, before his sister’s lovers return their gaze to him to quietly continue their playful banter in the glow of the fire.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (Epilogue) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: The new era. The end of one chapter, and the beginning of another.

Part XIX / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: Thank you all so much.

You peer out of the fenestrated walls, eyes glazing over the faint swinging of wooden signs and veranda covers. The ambience around you swirls like a sheer veil as you lean back into your seat, sighing out blissfully as your cooling charm beats with fervor, shielding you from the blistering heat of the summer day. 

Dragging your eyes away from the bright view, you run your finger along the thick cardstock in front of you. The blocky letters begin to fade into the background of snowy mountain caps and faded waterfalls as you continue to trace your eyes over it. 

‘Greetings from OREGON’ 

You flip the postcard over and swipe a finger across the swirly letters. 

‘Hope you’re well, kid. - A. Fiske’ 

A sudden thudding noise echoes across from you, and you slowly shift to sit straight as your eyes drag themselves away from the letters. You tilt your head with a coy smile as your companion leans back to get comfortable, evidently miffed by the unrelenting heat waves. 

“Good to see you, B.” You smile saccharinely, fingers dancing along the chilled cup in front of you. 

Blaise rolls his eyes and places his own drink down on the table—iced americano, simple, bitter, and everything that Blaise wasn’t. You would never understand his fascination with the drink. He huffs before smiling sarcastically at you, “Yes, how long has it been? Two days?” 

“Don’t whine, it’s unbecoming.” You mutter playfully, twirling your straw around the rim of your cup. 

“Merlin, you’re even starting to sound like her. Really, no wonder mother finds you so endearing.” He tuts as he throws his elbow back to rest on the back of his chair. 

You chuckle and shake your head, “Okay, let’s digress then.” You lean forward and cross your legs, “How is Draco doing? Theo is irritatingly uninformed on the topic.” 

“He’s alright, thanks to you and Potter anyway. His father might not be facing a long sentence, but many of the elected Wizengamot heads are shifty even with your statements. Lucius Malfoy has been a slippery eel for a few years too long.” He hums, face unflinching as he sips on his potent drink, “How the mighty have fallen so.”

Nodding, your voice drops lower as you survey the rest of the cafe, “Azkaban will still do a number on him even with a lighter sentence. Narcissa is worried.” 

“As she should be,” he replies curtly, “and speaking of Azkaban, how is Lord Black nowadays? He’s become quite the hermit. Is he faring well?” 

You sigh and rub your chin, “Yeah, he’s just been busy with remodeling. He’s still quite miffed that Reggie and I decided to move out.” 

“At least he has Potter with him.” Blaise supplies, eyes darkening in rumination at the mention of Regulus. He levels you with inquisitive eyes, “Before I forget, what should I send over?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you hum, “How do you mean?” 

“Your house warming gift, daft one.” He rolls his eyes lightly. 

“Just bring your lovely self.” You huff out. 

Blaise crosses an ankle over his knee, “A vase then.” 

“If it clashes with the aesthetic then I’m tossing it into the basement.” You warn jokingly, smiling widely at your friend. 

He shakes his head with a muffled chuckle, “No worries. Anyways, you still need to unpack, right? Need any help?” 

“Oh? Work not keeping you busy enough?” You rest back against your chair, head bleeding with thoughts about how taxing work has been in the past few months with the Ministry trying to dial the reconstruction process to an inconceivable pace. 

Blaise groans at the reminder, taking a long sip of his drink, “Merlin, they should rename the whole Department! Department of International Magical Cooperation? What a joke, all they do is sit in an oval and squabble.” 

You throw your head back to laugh, a feathery light bubble of relief expanding in your chest. It was mind-boggling to think that not even a year ago you were all fighting for your lives, and now the same backdrop of fear that followed everyone around for so many years had disintegrated. People strided through halls and streets with lifted shoulders and bright eyes, war-hardened, but jovial as their burdens gave way. 

Blaise had worked his way up the Department of International Magical Cooperation, often leaving meetings with a sharp migraine and dwindling hope in the frequency of common sense. Theodore was faring well, now a highly revered Unspeakable for the Time Branch, all made possible with his swift denouncement of his father. Draco was the more withdrawn one out of the three, but you held out hope for him, having corresponded with him over his budding fascination for Alchemy. 

You found that your new friends were on your mind often, and you were endlessly grateful to them as they took Regulus’ reintegration into society with stride, often giving you advice on how to politely tell inquisitive reporters to bugger off. Meetings with them were slowly becoming a rarity as all of you became engrossed in work, but your friendships remained resolute as you all quickly became each other’s closest confidants. 

Luna wrote to you often, and you sent her trinkets and snacks by the dozen, finding yourself constantly worried that others would mistreat the girl with the absence of your friend group. Luckily, the girl found a friend in Ginny, and you were looking forward to reuniting with her during her Summer Break. 

Harry and Ron were inducted into the Auror ranks by Shacklebolt only a few weeks after the war. You had your reservations about their decision to jump into such a high-risk job, the stench of carnage and battle throbbing like an open wound, but they insisted that they would never be able to focus enough to finish school. 

On the opposite side of that sentiment, there was Hermione. She had quickly delved back into Hogwarts’ curriculum amidst its reconstruction, and was now looking to you with hopeful words about beginning her own sabbatical. 

You had published your research under both yours and Regulus’ name, omitting information about Regulus’ discovery of sentient portraits as a precaution for the future. 

You both respected Anders’ wish to leave his name off the cover and the research, but he failed to warn you against leaving his name anywhere else, so simply on the first page of your book, you dedicated the findings to him and Asger with a simple ‘For A. & A. Fiske.’ 

The research was groundbreaking, to say the least. You wouldn’t be able to forget the swaths of letters and documents from the Ministry, and one very heated missive to you from Blaise about how he was even more swamped with work, many foreign countries reaching out to inquire about the findings. 

It all paid off though, the royalties you and Regulus got would sustain you both for the rest of your humble lives, and the boost on your portfolio made getting a job in the Department of Mysteries a cakewalk. 

Once the sun rolled across the cloudless sky, the singing blues morphing to hues of pinks and purples, you bid your friend goodbye, wishing him luck with work and promising to gather with the rest of your friends the following week. 

You were certain that apparition was the most useful skill you had in your toolbelt, and you couldn’t fathom how you managed to survive the majority of your life without such a feat. As your shoes pad against the pavement, the bristling of leaves skidding around you, you let out a content sigh as you approach your destination. 

It was the closest thing you had to home for so long, and it still felt like safety and comfort despite the sudden heaviness of your own house keys in your pocket. As you pop the door open, head peeking around the heavy wood, your face lights up as a figure comes into view. 

“You’re home!” You exclaim excitedly, stepping inside with a wide grin. 

Harry approaches you and gives you a fleeting hug, hand raising to adjust his glasses as he pulls back, “Yeah, Tonks let me off early. How was your meeting with Blaise?”

“Good,” you draw out suspiciously, eyes narrowing as you both pace through the dim walkway, “how’d you know about that?”

“Regulus.” He answers simply, eyebrows raising in tease as you huff. 

You both cross into the threshold of the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you see countless manuals splayed across the wide berth of the table. Regulus and Sirius are both hunched over in their seats, flipping furiously through the catalogues. 

“Some light reading, Sirius?” Your voice rings out playfully, body already moving towards your squinting boyfriend. Both men shoot up from their positions and blink owlishly at you and Harry, the sea of papers long forgotten. 

“Furniture shopping, pup!” Sirius replies with a tired grin as he stretches his arms over his head. 

Regulus rises from his chair and meets you halfway, arms wrapping securely around your body as he burrows his face into the crook of your neck. A few more moments pass by before he cranes back and blinks slowly at you, “Birdie.” 

You run a hand through his curls and smile lightly, “Love.” 

Regulus keeps you secure to him as he moves to drop back down into his seat, leaning his head against your stomach as you remain standing. Your eyes drop down to look at the varying bleak images on the shining white pages. 

Raising your eyebrows, your eyes drift around an image of a steep bookshelf with two glass doors, “Is this for us or Sirius?” 

Sirius leans back in his seat and rubs the bridge of his nose, “Your place. Reggie helped me pick out a few pieces earlier.” 

Your eyes wander around the aged cabinets and drabby wallpaper, trying to envision the space in a remodeled visual, one that would be Sirius-esque rather than screaming of cobwebs and medieval torture. You smile minutely before reaching a hand out across the table, bringing your other hand to card through Regulus’ hair as you mutter quietly to the tired man across from you, “I’m happy for you, Sirius.” 

The man reciprocates your smile and clasps his hand in yours, “Thank you, pup. I’m happy for you too,” he huffs and glances at Regulus, who remained immobile against your stomach, “the both of you.” 

The tender moment continues for a few more beats before Harry slowly leans on the seat next to Sirius’, eyes scrutinizing a forgotten pile of booklets off to the older man’s left, “Sirius, where are we going to put a lion table?” 

You snort out a muffled laugh as the man swivels over to his godson with beaming eyes, knowing that Harry would be whining to you later about Sirius’ ineptitude at interior decorating. 

“You should start cleaning up, Remus will be here soon for dinner.” You murmur with a pointed look at the trio. 

As the final outlines of the sun slinks away in the horizon, you and Regulus bid farewell to the occupants of Grimmauld Place, intent on spending the rest of the night in your home. It was fortunate that Regulus had managed to set up the floo network to your home only a matter of days before, and the journey back left little room for complaints as the green flames dragged away from your vision. 

You step out into the darkness of your study room, ears perking imperceptibly when the network flares again as Regulus joins you. The twilight sky filters into your home, dimly illuminating the barren room. 

“We’re home.” You mutter with a content smile. 

Regulus slowly pads towards you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he sways you both. Your eyes are drawn to the French casement windows behind the desk, getting lost in the sight of the dancing flower field. 

“Shall we head to the cliff, birdie?” Regulus muses, eyes following your gaze as he drifts into rumination. 

You nod and reluctantly step forward, pivoting on your heel and dropping a hand onto Regulus’ arm, “I’ll meet you at the front? I need to drop off a few things in the bedroom.” 

“Of course, baby.” He leans over to capture your lips in a soft kiss, hands dropping to your hips as he lightly grips onto you. 

Humming against his lips, you slowly pull back and rub a thumb across his cheek, “I’ll be quick, promise.” 

He pecks your lips again and gives you one last squeeze before he slowly backs away, shooting you a warm smile as he makes his way to the entryway. You retreat from the study room soon after, making a sharp right turn as you pace towards your shared bedroom. 

Regulus had been the one to bring up the idea of getting a beach house, assuring you that he was unsettled by still water and not turbulent waves. It was a quaint building, one that sprouted into the center of a lustrous flower garden, and you both knew it was the one when you toured it. Just a short walk away from the blooming fields, a precipitous cliffside broke away and loomed over a thick landing of sand, giving a small brief from the swaying waves 

As you enter the lusterless room, you shed away your bag and walk towards your bedside table, propping the Oregon postcard against your lamp. Atop the same white bedside table sat Regulus’ old golden frame, now whole and without trace of ever having been shattered. Under the frame, the folded piece of paper that Regulus had given you the night after you bought the property peeked out. 

You grasp both items in your hands, and smile lightly as an idea formulates in your head. 

“Kreacher!” You call lightly. 

The house-elf pops into the bedroom with a curious frown, teetering towards you as you extend the items out. You fish out your wand as Kreacher grabs the frame, muttering a faint engorgio at the rectangular object. The frame wobbles in the elf’s grasp before slowly stretching to nearly thrice its original size. 

“Could you possibly frame this note for me? Maybe above the headboard?” You request with a small smile. 

“Kreacher will do that.” The house elf nods and begins to fiddle with the frame. 

Your eyes run across the note one more time before you hand the slip to the elf, making your way out to Regulus with a fleeting farewell. The boy has a jacket slung over his arm as he waits for you by the door, carding his hair back as a flicker of joy flashes through his eyes when you appear in his line of sight. 

“All ready?” He murmurs once you reach him. 

“More than ready.” You reply with a hum, leaning to peck his cheek. 

The trek towards the cliffside passes by in the blink of an eye, and you’re left with butterflies in your stomach as Regulus picks several tulips for you along the way. By the time you’re close enough to the ocean to hear the crashing of waves, you are left to huddle close to Regulus for warmth. 

The sky begins to darken above you, but you give no protest when Regulus drags you to sit down on the ground. He peers up at the sky above him, eyes tracing across the faint twinkles of the approaching stars. 

You bring a hand to trace his chest as you do the same, cradling the flowers to your side as you begin to sift through the reel of memories in your head. 

“I love you, birdie.” Regulus whispers into the air, his arm moving to rest on your waist. 

You smile widely and press your face into the crook of his neck, “I love you.” 

And as you both laid under the stitches of glowing stars, sharing tiny whispers and shielding each other from the brutal winds, back in your home, Kreacher makes the last adjustments to the new wall decor. 

Kreacher mutely assesses the space as he backs out, the elf’s head full of future possibilities.

It was peaceful. After so many years, he felt at peace.

The door closes with a faint click just as the stars peek through the bedroom window, reflecting off the glowing frame. The swirls of inks encapsulated in the shining beams dance amongst the canvas of the wall. 

‘29 October, 1979

I wonder what being in love feels like. 

26 April, 1999

Love is like flying freely from the inhibitions of your burdens, where your person is your wings, your eyes, and your heart; you soar freely with the knowledge that they will carry you above the storms of doubt. I no longer wonder because now I know.’ 

Fin.

tag list: @krazyk99 @venomsvl @valsarchives @bunny24sstuff @novella12nite @elia-the-bibliophile @txorua @xlifexdeathx @trikigirl271 @the-marauders-world @sleepydang @blueberry-thrawn @lestat-whore @chanaaaannel @clockworkherondale @peachyaeger @thegayhoenextdoor @l--absinthe @ok-boke @summer-noir @mikeikax @musically-ambiguous @dittos-blog-dylanobrien @friendly-neighborhood-boricua @randomfaeriechild @misacc08 @that-bitch-bri @littleshadow17 @chocochannie @bl4stonesc @shari-berri @mrs-billyrussooo @pandemicboredom @gojosbucket @brain-has-left @googie-jeon @lovely-maryj @lokifriggason1 @aloramalfoy @godmitski @justanotherkpopstanlol @hpboysslut2707 @coffeehurricanes

[rxsilabeth--er]

| :: Masterlist |

The "Pre-Marauders" Era:-

Tom Riddle:

:: Scarily cute Boggart Tom Riddle with a reader who likes to sneaky up on him (drabble)

Euphemia Potter:

:: Through the years...

Fleamont Potter:

:: Through the years...

The "Golden Trio" Era:-

The end?

The "Marauders" Era:-

James Potter:

:: Back to us again.. :: Dressed for the special occasion...

Remus Lupin:

:: Hickeys and a Slytherin that's tricky...

Regulus Black:

:: Please be with me tonight, Mr.Ghostface!! (male! reader) :: Detective! Regulus NSFW drabble (male! reader) :: Detective! Regulus NSFW drabble (fem! reader) :: Eating out Regulus drabble ::1 ::2 :: You're worth a shot! :: (Detective) Pregnant! Regulus NSFW Drabble (male! reader) :: Regulus with a mommy kink :: Regulus mommy kink + vibrator imagine :: Tit for tat

::

© rxsilabeth--er 2023 - do not plagiarize, images created by me.

[the0doreslover]

𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🌸

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐝𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐭 ~

* syrup and flour

* sandalwood

* bridal flashbacks and happy endings

* For the first time

~ part two

* Cooking class

* Chemical romance

* Constellations of the heart

* blue hair

* shadowed trust

*obliviously in love

* not all men leave you disappointed -smut

* miscommunications

* my friend

* kitten love

* stuck forever by the… glue

𝐑𝐞𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐮𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤 ~

* Hard love

𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐤𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐞 ~

* blushing

𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐨 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 ~

* friends in the dark

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐥𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐧 ~

* the three times remus wanted to say i love you + the one time he did

𝐌𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬!

[fredgeorgegredfeorge]

hi! welcome to the shitstorm! it’s been a really long time since i’ve written for hp so please bear with me while i get the hang of it again. if you’ve read any of my works already and came to check out some more, thanks! also, if you’ve left any comment on my stuff i have def read them and appreciated them dearly, even if i haven’t responded :)

requests: OPEN (please be respectful and patient with me, I’ll do my best to get to them as soon as I can!)

taglists: please specify if you want to be on a general taglist, a fic taglist, or for a specific person 🫶🏻

disclaimer: tis’ all fiction and imagination, as well as non-cannon, and i will never claim otherwise! also, i try to keep my works 100% original; i do not read as much as i write, and i would hate for someone to think im copying them in any way. also, please don’t steal my stuff :) please be kind to me and everyone else. this blog is a safe spot. my feelings get hurt easily, and i will not stand for any disrespect towards others. thanks in advance 🫶🏻

♡ - fluff, ☾ - smut, ★ - angst

as always, be kind, stay happy, and shoot me a message anytime if you want to chat!

p.s. my wattpad is toxmaxdox, i write there too 😁

Fred Weasley

green-eyed monster | ♡ ☾ ★

For the first time ever, Fred Weasley finds himself jealous over the only person in the world he needn’t worry a bit about.

[livinginshambles]

I thought you'd be different | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x Slytherin!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Summary: A cinderella story (maybe a little romeo and juliet while we're at it) but Hogwarts - Enemies-ish to lovers. You find an enchanted parchment through wich you anonymously talk to a stranger (James). When you meet him at the Yule ball, he is not who you expected, but you give him a chance. When you realise that was clearly a mistake, you flee cinderella style.

Probably part one of two again.

Notes: Not proofread, grammar mistakes. Discrimination issues, themes of bullying. Regulus is our friend. James is an idiot, but we knew that already. Sirius sucks.

Masterlist. Part two. Part three

--------------------------------

You could still remember the moment vividly, as if it was engraved in your memory. That moment when the sorting hat placed you in Slytherin instead of Gryffindor like your two older sisters had been sorted. You could still see the look of surprise, concern, horror and then eventually disgust, every time you close your eyes.

“Now we finally know your true colors,” is what your sister Alyssa had hissed coldly at you. You had pleadingly looked at your other sister, but Marla had supported her twin sister, disregarding the confused and scared look in your eleven-year-old eyes.

“Don’t talk to us, don’t look at us and don’t mention us at all,” she sneered down at you and for a moment you wondered how she hadn’t been the one to be sorted into Slytherin instead. But you had cast your eyes down and agreed.

But years passed and you had become the very stereotype of a Slytherin student, completely leaning into the cold, distant, quiet but calculating persona that your sisters had created for you. Might as well, you figured after your parent’s dismay at the revelation of your house.

You were making your way down the corridor, long strides as you passed your sisters while looking them straight in the eye. They grimaced at the sight of you, but without their entire group of classmates, they didn’t dare make any comments. A feeling of victory erupted inside of you, and you couldn’t help the small smirk that crept up your face.

“What poor soul suffered for you to look so satisfied?” You turned your head to look at the person who called out to you. James Potter and Sirius Black were both leaning against a statue in the open yard. “Did you get rid of Regulus or something?” Sirius taunted. “Finally had enough of him following you around, did you L/N?”

“Go die in a ditch, Sirius,” you retorted with an eye roll, but seemed unphased.

“Why so much hostility,” James unpleasantly remarked, and you halted in your step. “10 points from Gryffindor for loitering,” you pettily decided.

“If you have nothing to do, other than insulting students, I would love to recommend you to Professor McGonagall for detention. Heard she was still looking for the person who made all the pumpkins explode last week during Halloween, and you guys are terrible at getting rid of the evidence.” With a last glance up and down, you continued your way towards the room of requirement.

When you entered the sober room with a sigh, you noticed the small scrolled up piece of parchment in the middle of the room. You frowned. This was your space. The room didn’t open this space for anyone else, you made it specifically as a safe haven.

You cautiously approached the parchment and rolled it open to reveal nothing. It was completely blank. You shrugged. If the room left this here, it was meant for you, and so you took a seat and started drawing on it.

James sat in an empty room, his invisibility cloak hiding him from plain sight as he pulled the now folded paper from his back pocket. He inspected it closely, almost pressing the paper to his glasses in a curious manner. He had gone to the Room of Requirements earlier that day and found a piece of paper floating in the air.

James unfolded the paper, and his eyebrows flew up. Lines were appearing on the paper by itself, and a beautiful portrait of a weeping willow with a girl, crying on a bench under the tree appeared.

James fumbled to find his quill and ink. Then he started to write something on it, in a handwriting that he only ever used for written exams. Credits to Professor McGonagall, who had announced that she would not be grading anything she couldn’t read. And she had looked over her glasses at him while she said it.

It’s beautiful.

You dropped the parchment at the words that formed right under your drawing. You traced it with your fingers. Then you decided to write back.

Thank you, I’ve been dreaming about this for the past two days.

You frowned at yourself, unsure why you would disclose such information, but figured no one would be able to trace this back to you anyway.

James blinked at the response he got, mouth open in surprise. He wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. It must simply be a spell of some sort after all. He stared at the sad drawing and the sentence, and then he made up his mind, writing back.

It must be lonely for that girl to cry by herself under the weeping willow.

Your eyes followed the words that formed in a trance.

If she ever feels lonely again, she can always pour her heart out on this parchment. I’ll be the mighty guardian wizard that will make all her worries magically disappear.

A grateful smile made its way up your face and when you scribbled back a response, James couldn’t help but smile as well.

Maybe she will.

You doodled a wizard sitting on the bench next to the crying girl, a consoling hand stretched out.

That's how you became James’ best kept secret. He learned that you were indeed a student at Hogwarts, but that you felt lonely. That you enjoyed butterbeer, but never got to enjoy it on a Hogsmeade outing with friends, because you rarely had any. He learned that you felt inferior to your siblings and a disappointment to your parents. He noticed how you would draw a circle as the dot on your ‘i’ and learned, when he asked, that you did that because you had once seen Professor McGonagall do that when you were in your first year, and had practiced mimicking her handwriting, should it ever come in handy.

In return, he had told you that he felt pressured by the reputation that he had to maintain. He loved Quidditch and absolutely despised Ancient Runes, to which you had replied, “who doesn’t?”. He told you that he had illegally learned to become an Animagus, a stag, and that he wasn’t sure yet what the future would hold for him. He even revealed to you that he desperately wants to protect his friends and sometimes had nightmares, which usually resulted in a sneak around the castle at midnight. When you had asked him if he’d ever been caught, he responded with, “never”, and had explained to you that he had an invisibility cloak.

Two months passed and before you knew it, you were explaining Transfiguration through the enchanted parchment. You did conclude from this that your pen pal was most likely in a year or two higher than yourself but decided not to comment on it. James on the other hand, was under the assumption that you must be from his year, as you managed to help him study for his exams.

But now, it was almost 12 o’clock midnight, and James chewed his lip while he looked at the parchment. He hesitated for a moment. Then he decided to ask you the one question he had been yearning to know the answer to.

Who are you?

You looked at the paper sadly, and sighed.

You’d be disappointed.

I understand if you don’t want to reveal yourself. But know that I could never be disappointed by you, Willow.

James sighed when you didn’t answer anymore. He waved away the light that emitted from the tip of his wand and took his glasses off. He went to put the parchment under his pillow as usual, when he saw the scribbling movement that he’d gotten so accustomed to.

He scrambled to grab his wand to shed light on the paper but accidentally nudged them off the nightstand and onto the floor, where it rolled under his bed. James’ eyes flickered back to the paper in his hand, and he managed to catch the first letter of your name as it was written in capital letters.

But your cursive handwriting, the dark and lack of glasses made it impossible to read the rest of your name. When he finally reached his wand and put on his glasses, he heard the clock strike twelve and he cursed as he grasped the parchment tightly, hurried ‘lumos’ and saw that the parchment had reset itself to a blank page again, just as every night at 12 o’clock at midnight.

Wait, please! I didn’t catch it before it erased itself. Please write it again?

You let out a sigh in relief after you had internally bashed your head against a wall.

No, it was stupid of me. I’m glad you didn’t see it.

You leaned back into your armchair with a racing heart. You couldn’t believe you had done that.

“Regulus,” you acknowledged as you pulled the chair back to sit next to him in the library. “Y/N,” Regulus quietly responded without looking up from his book, and if you didn’t know any better, his straight face would indicate annoyance. Luckily, you did know better.

“You smile any brighter, the sorting hat will transfer you to Hufflepuff, you know,” you teased him.

His face distorted in a grimace and without missing a beat, he replied, “do kill me before such a thing occurs.” You shook your head and finally sat down. Then you pursed your lips in thought.

“You know how I’ve been working all summer to earn galleons?”

“No.”

“Well I did.”

“So it seems.”

“Anyway, I rented a small flat,” you blurted out. Regulus finally looked up at you, surprise almost evident on his face. Then again, you didn’t have the most amazing home situation either. You often opted to stay behind at Hogwarts for the holidays. It is how you two had befriended each other, especially ever since Sirius left him to his own devices at home. Parents, it was a trauma bonding thing.

“Congratulations,” he nodded, his voice trailed off as he tried to see how this would concern him.

“So I thought you might want to stay with me over the Christmas holidays? Your mother doesn’t hate me, so I thought it might be possible. Gives you a chance to get out once in a while.” You tentatively brought up the sensitive subject.

“And what makes you think living with you will be any more bearable than living in my own mansion?” Regulus snarkily remarked.

You squinted your eyes at him in a scowl. “A simple ‘no’ would suffice don’t you think?”

“Do I have to pay rent?”

“Depends on whether or not the answer impacts your decision.”

“So not then.”

You huffed.

“Fine, I suppose I could join you in your small flat.”

“Merlin, don’t go doing me any favors Reg, I wouldn’t want to owe you.”

Regulus shook his head in amusement.

Satisfied with your rather successful attempt to invite him over, you got up. The chair you sat on screeched loudly as it was being pushed back. You could feel the librarian’s furious eyes on your back and rolled your eyes at her as you made your way to the door. “Alright, alright, I’m leaving,” you waved your hand in the air and exited the room.

You made it approximately two steps when you spotted your sisters again. “Of course you would cause a disturbance in the library,” Marla spat at you. You raised your eyebrows but remained unimpressed.

“I see you’ve got your buddies to back you up now?” you commented and tilted your chin slightly upwards. Your eyes flickered to your other sister, their closest friends, and the marauders.

For a moment, you considered walking away, but there was just something about that twitching lip of your sister that had you irked.

You stepped forward, narrowing the gap between you and your sister. You leaned in slightly and then, “Boo.”

It took your other sister, Alyssa about one second to have her wand pulled out and pointed at your throat.

James watched the interaction with a small frown on his face. He didn’t really speak with the fellow Gryffindor twins, but their friends and Lily were friends, so the marauders had joined them on their way towards the courtyard.

His mind flickered to a conversation he had had with ‘Willow’ about her sisters, and he wondered if you felt the same sadness and inferiority as his pen pal. And with that in mind, he pulled Alyssa back by her robe with one harm, the other lowering her raised wand.

“Let’s not,” he shrugged, when she raised her brows in question at him.

“She clearly threatened my sister,” Alyssa defended.

You scoffed at that. “I said ‘boo’. That’s hardly a threat,” you rolled your eyes and glanced at James who tried to offer you something that resembled a smile.

Was he mocking you? “Fancy yourself a hero, don’t you, Potter.”

“Hey, I was just trying to help,” he raised his hands in defense.

“Cause you’re such a good soul,” you sarcastically remarked.

“Yeah, actually. At least better than you. That hostility is so uncalled for,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, and you shot him a glare. “Right, better than me. Let me ask the two-dozen tormented Slytherin students you’ve bullied this past year. Bet Snape will buy your self-proclaimed ‘kindness’.”

You were already walking away when Sirius opened his mouth to call something out to you, but James kicked his shins in attempt to shut him up. Your words resonated in his mind.

Maybe he was a twat.

Am I a twat?

What the bloody hell are you on about?

Someone called me a twat today. Now that wasn’t necessarily true, but the implications were there.

Did you deserve it?

Sort of.

Sort of?

I mean, I am only an asshole to people who are assholes themselves and deserve it. But I guess that makes me an asshole too.

You hesitated for a moment and decided to write your opinion on the matter.

Maybe you being an asshole to people makes them assholes. And then it becomes a vicious circle. Self-fulfilling prophecy and all that bogger.

You reckon?

Wouldn’t have written it down if I didn’t.

On a brighter note, do you have a date for the Yule ball after the exams?

If you’re asking me out, I already promised my friend that we’d go together.

Oh right. But would you save me a dance? Maybe at midnight under the main crystal chandelier?

James bit his lip again in suspense. The Yule ball is a masked ball anyways, if you don’t want to reveal yourself.

Midnight, main crystal chandelier. You decided to leave it at that. Besides. You could enchant the mask a little extra, so you’d be even more unrecognizable. You wondered who would be behind the kind words of the parchment.

It felt strange to you. Really looking forward to something to the point you could feel jitters in your stomach in anticipation. But it was having a certain effect on you that even the younger Black couldn’t help but miss.

Regulus squinted his eyes and moved his jaw in thought. When he had had enough, he pulled you aside.

“Out with it.”

You deflated. You knew that he knew what he was talking about, so you shrugged. “Someone asked me to save a dance next week,” you mumbled.

“And you want to?” Regulus’ tone shifted to an incredulous one.

“I found an enchanted parchment in the room of requirements and it’s connected. I’ve been using it to have conversations with a mystery person.”

It felt great to be able to share this with your friend and you leaned against the wall behind you. “So yeah.” You finished the confession with an awkward hand gesture.

Regulus took a moment to register what you said. And then, as if it was the most normal thing ever, he responded with, “I see. And you have no idea who?”

You let yourself slide down the wall and tiredly put your head on your propped up knees. “Probably a Gryffindor.”

Regulus started laughing. You snapped your head up and scowled at him, not that he was used to anything else from you.

“As long as it’s not a mudbl-“

You kicked his legs and made him lose his balance. You shot him a warning glance. “You know my opinion on that.”

Regulus sighed. You had once confided in him about your home situation, including that time when you had overheard your parents argue when you came home for the first time after having been sorted into Slytherin. Your father had addressed the matter as soon as you walked through the door.

“You’re no daughter of mine.” He had said with disapproval in his voice. It wasn’t meant as a figurative insult. It was a statement. Your father believed that you could simply not biologically be his daughter. The words had you avert your eyes to the floor in shame.

“My entire bloodline has been sorted into Gryffindor.” He had looked at your mother. “Your family does have Slytherins. She’s most likely the result of your affair with that muggle a decade ago. It is possible.” And just like that, he had practically disowned you.

“Okay,” Regulus relented. “We’ll see who it is next week.”

James was nervously looking around, standing partnerless in the middle of the dancefloor. He had long forgone the mask that he had chosen because it prevented him from using his glasses. He looked at the great clock just above the table with drinks and pulled a hand through his hair.

It was time, so where were you? Hopefully you hadn’t chickened out yet because he was absolutely dying to meet you.

There was just something about you. It sparked something in him that he hadn’t felt since Lily. He’d look forward to your messages all the time. Every morning, he practically jumped up in anticipation and excitement as he reached under his pillow to read your ‘good morning’ message for the day. A smile would pass his lips each time.

James was ripped from his thoughts when a hand was placed on his shoulder blade. It tapped twice. He stopped breathing for a moment before turning around. And then the breath was knocked out of both of you completely.

For two different reasons.

James stared in awe at you. You wore a white and silver dress, covered in diamonds. A delicate white mask covered the upper part of your face, and he stared intently at your eyes, but somehow, he still couldn’t pinpoint who you were.

He could see all of your features clearly, but as if he was in a dream, he somehow couldn’t piece everything together to identify you. A charm, he realized. He was disappointed but shook it off. If you felt insecure, then he wouldn’t push it.

James’ face broke out in a grin, and he stepped forward. He couldn’t help but reach out to your face. But you took a step back. His hand fell and he frowned at your reaction, suddenly scared. He wasn’t wearing a mask after all. Compared to you, he was completely vulnerable.

Before he could say anything, you cut him to it. “No,” you hoarsely managed. “This was a mistake.” You turned around and escaped from the center of the dancefloor. James chased you.

“Wait, please. I’m sorry!” He called out after you.

You slowed your pace when you reached the corner next to the staircase. Then you shook your head with a sight, and you pinched your nose. James could see your furrowed brows.

“You have nothing to be sorry about. But my intention wasn’t to dance with James Potter. It was a mistake. Sorry for wasting your time.”

James shook his head in his turn. “Don’t say that,” his eyes pleaded. “So you know who I am. Am I..” He hesitated. “Am I that bad? I don’t know if you’ve heard any rumors about me, or what made you have a bad impression of me, but I’m the one you’ve been talking to for the past months.” He looked at you desperately. “Give me a chance, please. I only ask for a dance.”

Your eyes flickered over his sad face. You knew James from all the pranks that he did, mostly committed towards your house. You knew him from the banters you had with him, and from crying students that you undid hexes for. You knew him from pushing him out of the way as he purposely blocked your path to throw insults at you.

But you also knew the boy from the enchanted paper. The one who listened to all your worries. Who offered advice and indulged into your hopes and dreams for the future. You knew the boy who confided in you all his deepest secrets and own insecurities. Who made your day and cheered you up with his jokes and positivity.

“I can give you a dance,” you caved, and you offered him your hand, which he scrambled to hold.

James was a fairly decent dance partner, you soon discovered as he guided you with grace. “So I suppose you dance often?”

“I just practiced a lot,” he sheepishly admitted. “I had to impress you somehow, you know. Someone like you had to be crazy out of my league after all.”

Your lips twitched. “I think you’ve got it all backwards, Potter.”

“You know you can call me James, right?”

“Well, James,” you enunciated his name. It felt weird on your tongue. You had only ever spoken his last name in contempt. “I’m not very liked by more than half the students of this castle.” You motioned towards your mask. “Hence the enchantment,” you added halfheartedly.

“You don’t have to tell me who you are,” James immediately assured you, and you did relax at his words. “I’m just really happy that you’re real.”

You let out a laugh. “Why would I not be real?”

“I don’t know,” James whined. “Maybe I was just talking to really sentient paper or something?”

His answer only made you laugh more. James’ grin only spread wider.

“Whoever you are, I wouldn’t judge you,” James added quietly. You watched him silently as you swayed around the room.

“That’d be a first,” you joked sadly, remembering your own family.

“What can I say, I’m just different,” James cheekily winked and then twirled you around.

“We’ll see about that, James. You have the rest of the night to convince me.”

The dance ended and you curtsied to each other, out of breath. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I go find a bench because my feet are killing me. These heels are no joke,” you groaned in pain and sort of started to limp your way back.

James quickly came to support you and held your waist as he escorted you back to the side of the room. When you discovered that there were not in fact any benches, you sat down on the first few steps of the staircase. He raised his eyebrows when you kicked off your heels and saw that the entire slipper was made of glass.

“I transfigured those shoes myself, you know,” you proudly stated. James looked at it in disbelief. “This can carry a human weight?”

“Yeah, it took a lot of different enchantments and attempts,” you admitted.

James’ disbelief changed to awe. He took a seat next to you and you two started chatting about random things. You looked at James’ profile as he talked about Quidditch and felt soft towards him. Maybe he really wasn’t so bad after all.

The two of you were deep into a conversation when you were interrupted .

“Who is this, Prongs?” Sirius curiously stepped forward and shook your hand. You couldn’t help but grimace at him.

You politely nodded and explained the situation, but even though you engaged into a civil, nonchalant conversation, you couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the presence of James’ friends.

“Anyways,” Sirius leans in towards James. “Did you see Snape over there?” He nodded his head towards Snape, and you squinted your eyes at the boy in front of you.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything to him, are you,” you sharply asked. Both James and Sirius were taken aback by your new tone.

“Nothing harmful,” Sirius laughed, but it faded when you simply raised your eyebrows at him. Sirius looked towards James for help. James hesitated. He had been reluctant to indulge Sirius’ ideas ever since his conversation with you about being a twat. But Sirius was his friend.

“We’re just having a bit of fun,” James tried to explain. “We’re just joking around, besides, he’s in Slytherin, so definitely a blood supremacist.” Your face fell at his words.

You watched his features contort in disgust and suddenly you were eleven again, and all you could see was your sisters disgusted face.

By the time you had snapped out of it, Sirius was already making his way towards Snape. James had gotten up and his head flickered between you and his friend.

You got up as well.

“I really thought you’d be different, James.” You scoffed to yourself. “You really had me convinced there for a moment. But I understand that you’re really just a bully after all, blinded by prejudice. You really are a twat.”

James’ heart dropped at hearing you say those words. He felt ashamed and shook his head pleadingly as he searched for words. But the thing is, you couldn’t care less, because you were hurt too. So you turned around and fled up the stairs as fast as you could, just in case he would come after you.

“Hey Prongs, you coming or not?” Sirius called out. James looked back at Sirius as he contemplated his next move. He mouthed ‘no’, and then tried to run after you. But by the time he reached the hallway that you had disappeared to, you were nowhere in sight.

In denial, James ran towards the moving staircases and looked up, in hopes to find you there.

Had he looked down, maybe he would have caught the last shimmer of reflection of the diamonds on your dress.

James refused to give up, however and he started to knock on the paintings, hoping that they could tell him where you went. He just had to apologize.

A symphony of protests and yelling echoed within the hall. “Quiet you!” “Have you no respect for the sleeping?” “I will complain to Filch about this, young man!” “Leave us alone!”

When the voices resided, most portraits were empty, their contents having escaped elsewhere.

Defeated, James groaned and hit his head with his fists. “You stupid git!” he yelled out in frustration at himself. James slouched down to sit on the stairs. Then he reached for the parchment and a pen in the inner pocket of his jacket and started scrambling something down.

“Please answer,” he whispered. He almost had to laugh at how pathetic he must look.

You sat on your bed after having made your way to the Slytherin dorms.

I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know why I said that. I’m stupid and I ruined everything. Please let me make it up to you. I enjoy being with you, I don’t want you to think of me like this.

 Like I said before, this was clearly a mistake.

James read your words over and over again and he buried his face in his hands in shame. He stayed there for a long while and by the time he returned to the room, the party was over, and people had started returning to bed. On the left side of the staircase were your enchanted glass slippers precisely where you’d kicked the off and left them.

Preview of part two

Part two

Taglist:

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[priniya]

👀 SIRIUS SHOULDN’T KNOW

synopsis. how is james supposed to leave reader alone, when she always kisses him so good?

notes. james potter x black!reader.

even though many thought that the relationship between the black family wasn’t even tolerable, sirius black loved his siblings (and cousins) to the point he grew protective of them. he believed that his slytherin brother was sly enough to protect himself, but his youngest sister didn’t seem like it. so… at first he protected her from their parents, now it was time to protect her from the boys, who’d like to have her undies on their room floor.

at the beginning you thought it was cute, even your twin agreed, but it had quickly changed, when sirius wanted to be the one who’d take you to the homecoming ball, scaring everyone off. so talking to james there was easy, it was probably one of your first talks ever. you sat next to him throughout the whole night and talked, getting suspicious looks from remus, who knew how could that end up.

james was going through a break-up with a girl he thought was the love of his life. it was definitely teary for him, and his best friends were aware, so if sirius caught his sister looking at potter with those daydreaming eyes, he would shoot some deer. oh, and if you were heartbroken, because he used you as a rebound, his head would hang in their dorm before the sun come.

he didn’t think much that night, seeing you alone in that emerald gown, visibly sad due to sirius’ nonsense, and he had to talk to you. he’s heard lots about you, from padfoot, moony and regulus, but never got quite a chance to start a conversation with you. in between the words, you left the great hall to go to the bathroom and ten minutes later his white, silky shirt laid on the floor of your dorm, while he unzipped your dress.

there were multiple rumors going around the school about james, and which type of a partner he was, was he a good kisser, had he got good manners, if he respected boundaries. now, you could truthfully admit that james potter was a hella good kisser. so good that if he wasn’t hovering over you, you’d barely stand. you were shaking under his touch or when his cold breath itched the skin of your neck.

it was supposed to be a one time thing, at least you thought so, because you hardly talked the following week, but then he asked you out to go on a date with him. his request was unexpected, but who were you to disobey? and now, a few months after, you were secretly seeing james potter, remus and regulus being the only ones that knew, keeping sirius away from discovering the truth.

“dove, just lay down with me alright? nothing will happen.” your boyfriend mumbled into the soft fabric of his pillow, one of his arms trying to reach you to somehow get you back to him. “he’s not coming here so early, c’mere and gimme a kiss.”

“jamie,” you pouted. “i don’t want this to end, and it probably will if he finds out.” he sighed upon hearing your words, and hugged your bare back. “we really gotta come up with a solution.”

his fingertips traced lines on your arms as you spoke, your words getting quieter with each stroke. “i’m gon’ play pretend with lily, alright? just like we’ve talked.” you didn’t want this, not more than sirius finding out about you two, nevertheless seeing your boyfriend spend more time with his ex would definitely hurt. “then, we’ll find a real solution.” he finished leaving a few kisses on your shoulder, sending a shiver down your spine.

“are you sure you can do it?” you asked, tilting your head to the side. “the question is, are you sure you can handle it?” now, it was your time to wonder.

you liked lily, you really did, especially since she’s been hanging around your friend’s dorm so much, it felt as if she became your housemate. she was always so nice to you it hurt, thinking how good of a match she used to be with james.

“dove, don’t overthink it. i love you, remember? now, chop chop, i need to meet up with ginger.” he smiled, pulling away, before reaching for your shirt and giving it back.

“leaving me for your ex? rude.” you rolled your eyes jokiny, while putting on your shirt. “see you after classes.” you added, before leaving.

you’d say you expected everything as you walked down the hallway to enter the great hall, regulus and barty brickering over something as insignificant as what you’d eaten the day before, or that sirius was being obnoxiously loud. however, you were definitely not ready for what you were about to see.

evans was snuggling in james’ side as he feed her, big grins on their faces, shooting a glance at pandora, you noticed you weren’t the only one upset with the whole thing. clutching your bag to your chest, you sat at the slytherin table between your brother and one of his friends. “i don’t like this.” you murmured prior to regulus’ arm drape over your shoulders. “barty, mind moving a little to the left, so i don’t kill myself in a minute?”

“i don’t get it.” crouch began, looking at you all confused. “why won’t you just… i don’t know. confeont sirius about all this? it’s not like you’re twelve or something. you’re gonna be sixteen in a short time, why acting like you’re not?” he shrugged, stuffing his mouth with anything his hand could reach.

“you know sirius.” you mumbled, hiding your face in your palms. “you should either tell him, or break up with potter. there’s no point in hiding if you never come out of your shell.” evan shrugged, immediately getting a look from regulus. “did he even ask you out properly?”

“no, but– we’re exclusive.” you frowned upon his words. “evan, just shut up.” dorcas uttered, knowing where this conversation would lead, the five of them (including aliya, who were currently occupying the hospital wing) has already discussed the idea of your relationship with james. the conversation reoccurred whenever you seemed a little too upset after talking to him, and even though they would never say anything that included your relationship in front of you, they cared if you were happy.

“i lost any appetite that was left in me.” you sighed, locking eyes with remus, who quickly hit james in his leg under the table to make him look at you. it felt like when he did, he looked like he had realized something.

nevertheless, when you left so suddenly, he kept the act, not rushing after you. it wasn’t the first timr, when you were visibly hurt by something and james couldn’t do anything in public, because sirius was always somewhere in sight. good thing you had a friend to run after you. well, barty didn’t exactly run, but he caught up to you swiftly, and left the hall with his arm on your shoulders and a quick stare for james.

“you gotta man up, tell sirius and stop this whole potter-evans madness.” he sighed, his arm falling off you as soon as the door closed behind you. “i mean, what will your brother do – kill you? you’re a young woman, he gotta know that!” he nudged you with his elbow as you walked to the class.

to be honest, you absolutely loved potions, what you disliked about them was that on fridays you had them with the gryffindors, and slughorn made it his mission to make you socialise more, so… you were stuck at one desk with marlene mckinnon for the whole two hours.

you’d lie if you said you didn’t know or like marlene. mckinnon was one of the girls you liked the most from your brother’s friend group, most likely because she also hung out with dorcas and dora a lot, so you knew her vibe matched yours. nonetheless, after the scene with your boyfriend and his ex-girlfriend, you weren’t exactly in the mood of talking to anyone who wasn’t a part of your own house.

“so… you and rosier?” her eyebrows wiggled suggestively as she spoke, grabbing your attention faster than ever. “what? what’s with the face. everyone saw how protective he was of you today at breakfast.” she grinned and stopped babbling for a moment, at the same time the professor sent you a glare.

“nah.” you shrugged, scribbling in your notebook. “why? he’s my friend.” a reply left your lips as you relaxed your chin on your palm, shutting your eyes for a second.

“i mean… lily and james were also best friends and now they’re back together…?” you knew she didn’t know that it wasn’t the truth, but somehow you grew quiet. “you and evan would look just as cute as they do, or even more. who knows?”

till the end of the period, you hadn’t spoken more than a one-word sentence, mckinnon’s words still ringing in your mind, getting louder and louder each second. you wondered if you and james looked cute together, if anyone would be like «woah, if they broke up i don’t believe in love” type of person.

“i think even sirius said he’d root for you.” that was all you needed to let go of the fear, not only because you were annoyed that someone thought you and evan were a thing (when he was clearly interested in his other friend), but because sirius used to brag about any boy you talked about making either you or the boy himself lose interest.

you decided to hold your horses until necessary, and… you were really surprised, when the jealousy burst out at james’ birthday party a few weeks later. you weren’t directly invited, “not to raise any more suspicions”, but since your boyfriend clearly stated he needed you to be there, you appeared, elbow intertwined with your twin’s.

at first, you wanted to keep everything simple. a plain, fitted black dress that you wore to the banquet your parents forced you to go to, when you were younger. although, back then your silhouette looked completely different, your curves developed and now the dress that once made you look like a wardrobe’s door, now it brought out everything that was needed.

within few drinks, and half an hour of watching your boyfriend fooling around with his ex, you had enough. it was his birthday and you couldn’t even properly celebrate it with him in front of all these people. with another two shots for courage, you walked up to them and by pulling his tie the closest you could, you crushed your lips onto his.

you didn’t even give sirius a chance to protest. without saying a word, you pulled back, grabbing his hand and almost run to the stairs to his dormitory. “sorry mate, what your girlfriend says, you must obey.” he shrugged and followed you, leaving your poor brother in shambles.

“finally! i thought she’d kill herself or you two, no offence though.” regulus sat beside lily, and smiled warmly, catching a glimpse of pandora who’d seen your outburts as a sign to finally give up hiding.

“wait, you knew?” the oldest black turned his head to his younger brother and frowned.

“we all did, padfoot.” remus laughed, taking a seat at the armrest of sirius’ chair. “some of us–“ his eyes landed on marlene. “– were pushing their buttons to end this madness.”

“what? i almost got the jealousy admission from james.” mckinnon shrugged, sipping on her drink.

[entitled-fangirl]

His betrothed.

Barty Crouch Jr. x reader

Summary: The youngest Black sibling is getting near courting age. Regulus and Barty have a plan, and Sirius doesn't like it.

Warnings: the Black family literally, cursing, siblings fighting, idk

Author's note: I wrote this while I had a fever, so if it's horrendous, let's not judge :|

Part 2!

Masterlist

....................................................................

"Siri…?"

Sirius turned his head to look over his shoulder. 

Sweet little Y/N Black was standing behind him with a worried look in her eyes.

Being the caring older brother he was, he pushed James slightly, making room for her to sit next to him at the Gryffindor table of the Great Hall. She accepted, sitting down gently, her expression never changing.

Remus saw the look as well, and seemed to be just as concerned, "What's going on?"

They weren't the only two marauders concerned. In fact, they all were.

When Sirius' sibling Y/N was sorted into Gryffindor, Sirius had physically cringed. He couldn't stand seeing his darling little sister go through the Black family's mental and physical abuse due to her house. At that point, away from Walburga's watch, the marauders had taken the girl under their wings. During the summer, she still remained in the Black household at Grimmauld Place with her twin Regulus. But during the school year, she was raised by Sirius.

Hence, where this situation had come from.

James threw an arm around the girl's shoulder, leaning close to her ear, "Whatever it is, you can tell us. That's what we're here for."

She simply stared at the plate in front of Remus across the table.

The four boys stared at each other, worried and unsure of what to do at this point.

Her small voice came out, "Mum is having me go to my first… meeting…. This winter…"

Sirius' hand had a steady grip on his fork, his knuckles turning white. His voice was low. Scarily low, "What."

Remus leaned forward to him, "Pads, control yourself in front of everyone."

Sirius' head lifted to him, "I would, but she's 17 fucking years old. Too young to be staring this… this shit…."

The girl remained unmoving, James' eyes never leaving her, "Y/N…?"

A small sigh came from her lips, "that's not all…"

Sirius looked as if he would explode. "Not…all?"

Peter finally peeped, "Is everything going to be okay?"

She looked up at him, "I'm not sure…"

Sirius rubbed his hands over his face before leaning on the table, "Alright, sweetheart. Tell me."

"Mum is… well… setting up… alliances…"

Sirius knew what that meant. Merlin, he knew what that meant. And he was angry. Beyond angry.

Remus' eyebrows furrowed, "…alliances?"

She nodded, her frame getting smaller as if she was shrinking into herself with every word, "It's…. Well it's when-"

Sirius interrupted, "Mum's marrying her off."

The table went silent, each boy trying to come to terms with what they had heard. 

Finally, Peter spoke up, "to…. To who?"

All of their eyes were on her. Well, almost everyone's eyes.

She shrugged, "Mum hasn't told me yet."

James, who had been staring off past the siblings to a different table, was holding a slight smirk to his face. "I bet I can tell you who it is."

Y/N looked up to him with teary eyes, her emotions finally getting to her, "Who?"

His eyes never left the person, his head moving as if to point in that direction. Sirius and Y/N followed his gaze.

Barty Crouch Jr. sat at the Slytherin table, his eyes flickering up in her direction every few seconds. When he saw the entire table looking in his direction, he quickly looked down at his food, as if forcing himself to not look up at her again until they looked away.

Sirius' voice was practically a growl, "It's. Not. Gonna. Fucking. Happen."

James sighed, "I don't know if you get a choice, Pads."

Remus looked up at Y/N, who was near tears. His hand reached out, grabbing hers from across the table, "Hey. Are you alright little dove?"

That was their name for her. Little dove. She was no animangus. But, hoping to make her feel included, they had given her a name during her 3rd year. And it had stuck ever since.

She shrugged, her bottom lip quivering. "I'm not sure."

He nodded, "That's alright. We'll figure this out… Pads?"

Sirius was in his own world. His eyes flickered around the room at every person, as if anyone could jump out and take her from them. 

When Regulus entered the Great Hall, Sirius immediately jumped up, walking to him. "Regulus…"

Regulus stopped, confused. Sirius never spoke to him unless it had to do with Y/N. "…what."

"I want you to tell me what the fuck Mum is doing to her."

Regulus sighed, "Let's…," his eyes wandered around, "Let's get away from listening ears."

…

"What the hell, Reg?!"

"Hear me out, Sirius!"

"No! You're letting Mum marry her away like a piece of fucking meat-"

"-THAT'S NOT TRUE!"

Sirius went quiet. The only sound in the hall was the occasional student that walked a few corridors over. His voice finally came out calm, "What… what do you mean?"

Regulus sighed, "It's… complicated."

"Yeah, I can fucking tell…"

"Crouch…," Regulus looked like he was ready to get hit by his brother, "he asked."

Sirius' eyebrows furrowed, "Asked for what?"

"Sirius, please. Don't make me spell it out."

"He asked for Y/N?"

Regulus nodded, "He's liked her for the longest time, really. Since I can remember. And when Mum mentioned that she was going to make arrangements for me soon, I panicked knowing she'd be soon after. I told Crouch, and he said he'd happily marry Y/N. And I helped him win Mum's favor." He looked back up at Sirius, "Look. Don't judge me. I'm doing what's best for her."

Sirius scoffed, "'what's best for her'? What's best is getting her away from the hellhole we call our family. They don't fucking deserve her. Marrying her to a fucking death eater, Reg? Not the brightest idea you've had. Merlin…"

Sirius slowly began to walk away until Reg spoke up again, "I thought it through, Siri. Swear to God."

The 7th year stopped, turning around once more, "…how?"

Reggie sighed again, "Crouch… he's… he's only a first generation death eater. There's not many responsibilities he has to hold. He's loyal only to himself and those he deems worthy."

Sirius thinks it over, "And would he be loyal to her?"

Regulus let out a small laugh, "Merlin. He is already."

When Sirius didn't answer, Regulus continued, "He may not be close to his father, but… it gives her options. If they decide to run away, he can protect them. And if she decides just to leave Bartimus, then his father could protect her on his own. Crouch brought it up to Mum as a way to give more connections between the death eaters and the Ministry. But, we both know. It was for her protection."

Sirius was staring to be slightly shocked at his brother's reasoning, "I…. Okay?"

Regulus gave a final statement. "And He'll treat her well, brother."

"How can you be sure?"

Reg shrugged, "Don't believe me? Make them interact. You'll see. He's like a loyal dog. He'll do anything for her."

Sirius sighed, "I should wring your neck. But I won't. Because you've thought this out so well. I won't say I'm agreeing with it. But… I'll let it grow a bit. To see where it goes."

Regulus smiles, "That's all I ask, brother."

….

Sirius entered the Great Hall once more, sitting in his spot with a huff. At this point, James is gently running his hands through the girl's hair. She's talking to Peter and Remus over an omelette, her mind far from the previous conversation.

He interrupts, "We're talking about this later. The four of us."

She turned, "Not me?"

Sirius' tone turned condescending, his voice harsh, "When have you ever been a part of the four of us? You're not a marauder."

James' hand in her hair immediately paused, Peter dropping his fork clumsily. Remus choked on his drink. But none of them said a word in her defense.

She stared at her brother with a guilty look that slowly morphed into slight hatred. Her voice was still as soft as always, but it held a bite to it, "Fine. I didn't want Mum to know I'm around the Black family traitor anyway." She stood up, leaving the table without another word. 

Remus stood up, watching her go, "Dove?"

But she had already left.

She approached the Slytherin table, her red and gold tie standing out from that side of the room. 

And Barty Crouch Jr. was already looking for her, noticing her leave from the Gryffindor table. 

She stood behind him, quietly trying to speak up, "Excuse me?"

Barty's eyes closed. Her voice was so sweet. He never got to hear it. And she was trying to speak to him. This situation couldn't be better. 

He turned around on the bench, a small smile gracing his face and a happy look in his eye, "Hello. What do you need?"

She pointed to where Regulus always sat, "Could I… maybe…?"

He looked over to the spot next to him before immediately, "Oh. Yes. Please."

She sat, finally taking note of the people around him. The most notable one being Lucius across the table.

Lucius held an arrogant look in his eyes, "What? The blood traitor finally got tired of you too?"

Barty's jaw clenched, "Watch your tone, Malfoy."

Malfoy snickered, leaning forward. "Why are you here, Black?"

Barty was becoming highly irritated, "Hey. What did I fucking say?"

Lucius held his hands up in a surrendering way, not saying a word, but his eyes were saying more than his mouth needed to.

She stood, "I'm sorry. This was a dumb idea…"

Barty grabbed her wrist. "No, please. I want you to sit."

She hesitantly does so.

A silence falls over the table before Barty breaks it, "Regulus hasn't been back since Sirius drug him out. Think he beat him up?"

She laughs, "No. I'm sure that just had a small fight is all."

Barty smiles, "I have a feeling I know what it's about."

She nods, deciding to avoid the subject. "Do you have classes today?"

He nods as well, "Just one. Potions. Tell me yours."

She pulls out her wand, waving it. A small piece of paper lands on the table, her entire schedule written on it. She begins to study it to give him an answer.

He leans over to her, peering at it slightly over her shoulder. He smiles, "You have astronomy tonight?"

She nods, "It's my favorite."

He points at one of the classes for the day. "I know where that is. Why don't I walk you?"

She shakes her head, "You don't have to. I know where it is, I just-"

His voice was a whisper, "-please. I would love to."

She decided to look at him finally, and when she did so, she found their faces to be inches apart, his deep brown eyes staring longingly into hers. She felt her face heat up, a light pink shade overtaking them. They stayed this way for a while before she decided to talk first, her voice softer than a whisper as she caught him staring at her lips, "Do you really want to marry me, Crouch?"

He smiled, "More than anything."

The moment sat for a while before she looked away, now a deep shade of red. "Perhaps you can walk me to class then."

"And a walk after dinner."

She looked up at him, "…a walk?"

He nodded, "Please."

He points at another class on the paper, "I can walk you to this one as well… if you'll have me?"

Her eyes soften as tried to see if this was a joke. If he had an ulterior motive. But he didn't.

Regulus came up from behind, completely unnoticed until Y/N felt a kiss to the top of her head and a small, "scoot over."

She did so, pushing herself closer to Barty, who held a smile on his face the entire time.

Regulus could feel the stares from the Gryffindor table. He looked up to meet their gazes, smiling in an almost mocking way at the sight of the two betrothed finally bonding.

She was still looking at Barty, "I…. Yes. I would…. I would like that very much."

He nodded, "Then it shall be done." He stood up, grabbing his books next to him, "I must get to potions, but I'll meet you by the Gryffindor common room entrance before your class, yes?" When she nodded, he gave a nod to her brother, "Regulus," then took his free hand, grabbing the girl's hand, kissing it gently, "Y/N." And with that, he left.

.................................................................

[moonstruckme]

Oooo darling!! Your latest TASM fic sparked and idea!

(Before that, hello lovely 🩷 i hope you're having the best spooky season!)

Big brother!Sirius coming to save some poor sod that upset his slytherin!sister (Regulus' twin). So you have the charming & fun Sirius; quiet & regal Regulus; loyal & volatile reader. And i imagine Sirius calls them his twin stars (because hes deffinately a huge sap).

Where wolfstar is in 7th year and has a great relationship with the twins (maybe theyre trying to become their legal guardians behind the scenes). He and Remus are in their dorm before Peter bursts in, breathless, only saying "y/n" before Sirius is off. He has no doubt to why you were put in 🐍, and god forbid someone actually hurt his baby sister.

On reader's side, someone made a snide comment about Remmy being a halfblood or ruining the Black legacy or something and reader gets pissed because shes actually quite fond of him.

Then whatever you decide love; maybe reader gets hurt; maybe she does the hurting; maybe Remus saves the day with his long legs; or Sirius might show people what growing up in the 'Noble house of Black' does to someone. And idk what Reggie is doing, i imagine he was making out with James and they come in at the last minute ("😱 james!! What have you done!? Youve DEFILED one of my precious stars!!! Let go of him!!!! NO, dont touch him, get away.")

Anyway bub, as always; dont feel pressured and take all the creative liberties youd like!! Love you lots darling x

Hi my lovely, thanks for requesting! I really need to get more creative than bloody noses but ugh they're just so classic

cw: blood

big brother!sirius + (as opposed to x, I guess?) little sister!reader ♡ 861 words

“You weren’t there!” you insist as Sirius stalks back and forth across the room, tapping his wand against his leg in a quick, restless beat. “He said—he—” You look at Remus, the boy’s eyebrows drawn together in concentration and concern as he presses a cloth under your nose, trying to stop the blood that’s already crusted down your chin. You decide to keep your mouth shut. 

Remus smiles wryly, and you know he suspects why you’ve chosen to go quiet. “It doesn’t matter what they said, love. I don’t need you getting in fights for me.”

“Who was it?” Sirius demands, for probably the fourth or fifth time. You’re losing count. 

“It’s already been hand—ah!” Remus murmurs an episky while you’re distracted, and you flinch, hands flying to your face as your septum snaps back into its proper place. “Fuck, could’a given me some warning.” 

“Sorry,” Remus says, and he looks like he means it, tilting your chin up to continue cleaning your face as you look at him with teary eyes. “Thought it might hurt less if you weren’t expecting it.” 

“How do you figure?” you ask him, somewhat miffed. 

“Back. On. Task.” Sirius claps his hands with each word, coming to a stop in front of you. “Who did this? Remus is my boyfriend, I have twice as much a right to defend his honor as you do, you—you fucking—squirt.” 

You sneer at the childish name, but you know your brother means to rile you. “I told you, I handled it. He won’t do it again.” 

“And he’s never going to touch you again either,” Sirius promises menacingly, squatting in front of you to look you in the eyes, “if you just tell me the fucker’s name.” 

“Alright, that’s enough,” Remus says, taking his boyfriend’s shoulder in a spindly hand, the touch both soothing and controlling as he pushes Sirius back from you. “Let’s just let her rest for a minute, yeah?” Sirius sputters in protest, but Remus moves in front of him, pressing his face into his boyfriends’ dark locks. You roll your eyes at the display, though a tiny part of you loves that your brother has someone who loves him this well. Once he quiets, Remus speaks in a low, soothing voice. “I know, I know, you won’t be deterred from your vengeance, but there’s time for that later. Let’s just calm down for now.” 

It’s a lovely prospect, but at that moment, the door opens to reveal Regulus and James, both looking somewhat ruffled. James stops short at seeing you all gathered in his dorm (Remus and Sirius, of course, have every right to be here, but you’d bet he and Reg were hoping for some privacy) and stands there blinking for a moment. Your twin’s blasé facade slips the moment he sees you with blood still crusted to your nostrils and tear tracks down your face. 

“What happened?” he asks, pushing past James and into the dorm. 

“She got into a fight,” Sirius says, outrage instantly rekindled, and Remus sighs in exasperated resignation, his work undone. “Someone said something about Moony, but she won’t tell who.” 

Now James looks upset too, eyes darting to Remus concernedly. “About Moony? When?” 

“Just now!” Sirius throws up his hands. “Ten minutes ago! Did either of you see anything?” 

James shakes his head, and despite Regulus’ blank expression, you catch the embarrassed shifting of his stance. “No,” James says, “we were, uh…we didn’t see anything.” 

“I bet I know who it was though,” Regulus offers, that traitorous scum. He’s just throwing you under the bus to take the heat off himself. 

It works; Sirius perks up. “Yeah? Who?”

“It doesn’t matter who,” you say, but Sirius cuts you off, facing your twin. 

“Who?” he asks. 

“It was the guy you were arguing with yesterday too, right?” Reg glances at you for confirmation, and you glare at him. Don’t you dare, your look says, but he nods and turns back to Sirius. “He’s your year, the one you guys call Sni—”

“Reg and James were coming in here to have sex!” you blurt. 

It’s a wonder Sirius doesn’t get whiplash from how fast he turns around. “What?” 

You nod, unable to feel guilty as Regulus gives you an appalled look from behind your older brother. “Mhm,” you say. “Their hair is all messed up, and look—their lips are swollen. Plus, they were surprised we were in here.” 

You do feel a tiny bit bad for James, whose dark skin blanches when Sirius turns on him. “James Potter, did you come in here to defile my brother?” 

James looks to Remus for help, but his friend only turns his palms up like Sorry, what can you do?. After a second, Regulus steps closer to him.

“Sirius, we—”

“Don’t touch him,” Sirius practically retches. He shakes his head, grabbing Regulus by the arm and all but dragging him from the room. “Alright, listen. You are going to tell me who was talking shit about Remus, and then we’re going to have an entirely separate conversation about boundaries.” He casts a noxious look back at James. “And I’ll deal with you later!” 

[ellecdc]

How about a fic where Remus falls for reader who is Sirius’ sister? If Sirius freaks out with Regulus and James, just imagine how protective he would be with a sister! Specially if she is sweet and kind (totally opposite of him and Regulus)

will I ever make a sibling fic that isn't chaotic? no, likely not. also, I didn't exactly make her the opposite of Sirius and Regulus but it could be argued that she's better than them anyways. ALSO, I've always refrained from reader-inserts with Black!sister reader simply because I see her as Reggie's twin who looks the way he does, and also can't get beyond the fact that she would have a celestial name SO, in any Black!sister fics going forward, please note that her middle name will have been Soleil which is French for sun, and the boys call her Sunny as a nickname <3

Remus Lupin x Black!sister reader who he has fallen head over heels for [1.5k words]

CW: siblings, threats of murder

Most boys at some point in their lives will be asked the following question:

Are you a mummy’s boy, or a daddy’s boy?

If a boy wasn’t asked such a question, it was likely because the answer was painfully obvious.

“Little Lucius Malfoy is such a daddy’s boy.”

“That James Potter, such a mama’s boy”.

“Oh, sweet Peter Pettigrew, he has always been a mummy’s boy.”

Since the answer was so painfully obvious, neither Sirius Orion Black or Regulus Arcturus Black had ever been asked this question. For them, the answer was simple:

They were their sister’s boy’s.

It was this fact that made Remus Lupin’s current predicament so bloody difficult. 

“Where is she!?” Regulus barked as he stormed over to the Gryffindor table where Sirius was sitting beside James across from Remus and Peter.

“Goodmorning, Reggie.” Sirius offered instead of answering his brother.

“For Sala- hi, Sirius. Where is she?”

“Where is who?” 

“Your sister.” Regulus spat, causing Sirius’ brows to furrow as he chanced a look over his shoulder at his brother. 

“How is she my sister? She’s your twin.”

“Nevermind that, do you know where she is?” Regulus muttered.

Sirius sighed and stood from his seat to scan the Great Hall. 

“Nope.” He offered with a pop of the p before returning to his breakfast.

“I’m going to avada that meddling witch!” Regulus hissed as he stormed off; Remus, James, and Peter all watching after him as Sirius continued happily with his toast.

“Are….you not worried about her?” Peter asked cautiously then.

“Not really.” Sirius responded quickly. 

James let out a breath at that and shook his head in disbelief. “Siblings are weird, mate.”

“Thanks, Siri.” You chimed as your head popped up between James and Sirius; the former shrieking not unlike a displeased mandrake plant as he clutched at his chest. 

Neither you nor Sirius paid him any mind as Sirius nudged his plate closer to you so you could pick from it. 

“What’d you do now?” Sirius asked.

“I simply told one of Reg’s admirers that he was already seeing someone; I hardly see what all the fuss is about.” You offered simply, causing Sirius to look at you in bemusement and mutter “Reg is seeing someone?” at the same time James looked at you in horror and hissed “Reg has an admirer!?” 

You simply smirked and looked at Remus who was sitting across from you and shot him a wink.

He hoped to all get out that no one noticed the heat radiating in his cheeks as he smiled nervously down at his plate, though he was relatively certain he could feel a set of spectacled eyes burning a hole into the side of his head. 

“Wait, why do you look like that?” Sirius asked then, causing the table to look at him to see he was surveying your form.

“Like what?” You asked him slowly, looking down at your uniform as if to see what Sirius could possibly be talking about. 

“You look…like…nice.” Sirius muttered as if that was a particularly bad thing.

“I always look nice.” You argued then.

“That’s not true, you usually just look fine.”

“You’re such a git.” You spat, taking the piece of toast he had in his hand and taking a bite of it.

“Doesn’t she just usually only look fine?” Sirius asked then, and Remus was horrified to see he was looking at him. 

“Me?”

Sirius nodded impatiently as if saying “yeah? What about it?”

“Why are you asking me?” Remus asked somewhat shrilly. 

“You’re objective.”

“And Peter and James aren’t?”

Sirius huffed as he kicked Remus in the shin under the table. “Would you just answer the sodding question?”

“I…well,” and Remus looked at you - you, who always looked nothing short of lovely and radiant and dauntingly perfect in every way, and today had been no exception. But he couldn’t very well say that. “She…she looks fine, yeah.”

Sirius’ brows furrowed further as he turned back to look at you, and Remus tried to pretend he didn’t notice a brief look a hurt cross your features. “You do, though. Look lovely today, that is.” He added awkwardly, simply receiving a half-smile in response. 

“Sunny!” Regulus barked then; apparently having found his way back to the Great Hall in his search for you.

“Oh, Merlin and Morgana.” You grumbled as your head fell back in exasperation.

“What did you tell him?”

“Who?” Sirius and James parroted. 

“Sunny.” Regulus repeated, his gaze never moving from you as he sidled up behind you. “What did you tell him?”

“Oh, stop with the theatrics, Regulus; you’re embarrassing yourself.” You drawled, sounding like a true upper-classman as you refused to look at your twin. 

“What did you tell Fenwick?” He gritted out slowly in a way Remus was sure would make a lesser man cower, but you simply rolled your eyes at him. 

“I simply told him that he was grasping at billywigs because you were already seeing someone.” 

Regulus held your gaze as you raised your eyebrow at him. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.” You hissed, completely unimpressed. 

“Who in the hells are you seeing?” Sirius asked then, causing the two of you to look over at him.

“Nevermind, Siri.” You responded in a bored tone around another bite of his toast.

“I will too mind, thank you very much! Who is my baby brother seeing!?”

“Oh relax, Sirius, there’s no need to call the DMLE; it’s not like Sunny’s seeing anyone.” He chuckled, causing Sirius to snort in laughter.

“That’s true.”

You made a disbelieving sound as you looked between your two brothers. “What in Merlin’s name is that supposed to mean?!”

“That means, my dear baby sister,” Sirius responded curtly as he yanked his toast back from you, “that you must never date, otherwise your big brother will end up in Azkaban.” 

“Oh give us a little credit, Sirius; we’d get away with it.” Regulus countered. 

“Why!?” You beseeched. 

“No one is good enough for you, obviously.” Sirius responded simply, as if you were quite ridiculous for even needing to ask. 

“And anyone who thinks otherwise will end up dead.” Regulus continued earnestly, causing James to bark a laugh.

“Don’t worry Moons, Pete and I will make sure your funeral is nice.” He said as he brought another spoon of cereal to his mouth.

Remus felt all blood drain from his face as everyone turned to look at him.

Regulus stared at him in a confused sort of horror, Peter looked at him with a sympathetically worried expression, Sirius didn’t look exactly horrified or disgusted as Remus had thought he would, but he definitely looked disturbed to some level, and you were looking at him with what he thought (and certainly hoped) was hopeful surprise.

James looked up at the silence to see everyone staring at Remus, whilst Remus just stared at him in betrayal.

“James!?” Remus whisper shouted; his voice having apparently run off along with his bollocks. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Regulus finally asked then, staring daggers at Remus as Sirius raised his hand slightly as if warning Regulus off of his best friend, though never removing his own scrutinising gaze from Remus. 

“James, what’d you mean by that?” Sirius asked James - eyes still glued to Remus.

“I, well, erm. I’m actually, not entirely sure? I just…well…”

“Do you fancy her, Moony?” Sirius whispered as if it was some horrid joke and so completely unfathomable that Remus could possibly find you as enchanting as he admittedly did. 

No, he wanted to say, of course not, Pads. That’s your baby sister, I’d never fall so head-over-heels for the sister of my best friend, that’s absurd. 

But that wouldn’t be true.

And he’d already been outed. 

His gaze moved to you and offered what he hoped was an apologetic smile before opening his mouth to respond. 

“Regulus is shagging James!” You blurted then, causing James to flinch so violently that his knees hit the bottom of the table top, and Regulus deflated severely from where he’d been staring down Remus like some well-trained guard-dragon. 

“Are you fucking kidding me!?” Sirius shrieked then, turning to point his glare at someone other than Remus, finally.

Remus had been so caught up in the verbal volleying taking place between Sirius, Regulus, and James that he hadn’t noticed you had disappeared from your spot beside Sirius until you popped back up beside him and were encouraging him up by the sleeve of his uniform jumper.

And you looked so sweet and so lovely and so hopeful and so mischievous and Remus really was helpless in the pull you had on him, which saw him rushing out of the Great Hall with your hand in his as you dragged him away from your brothers and laughing all the while. 

So yeah, this made Remus Lupin’s current predicament incredibly bloody difficult.

Because if Sirius and Regulus were sister’s boys, you were your brothers’ girl.

And that made Remus Lupin a dead man walking.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢 𝚊𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜'

⟢ james potter x black!reader (fem)

⟢ summary: after your parents cross the line, you and your older brother sirius find sanctuary at the potters' . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.6k

⟢ warnings: abusive parents, blood, cuts, head injury

⟢ part 1 ⟡ part 2 ⟡ part 3 ⟡ masterlist

note: i wrote this for fun and never expected to be posting it so i hope it's not bad... i actually never expected to be posting ever again but here i am ;) anyway i’d like to give this a part two (or more!) but i’m not sure what should happen next

An eerie silence overtook 12 Grimmauld Place on what had so far been an unremarkable summer night. 

Not even the usual sounds of activity fell upon your ears. No creaks from the old floorboards in the hallway outside your door. No scratches against your window from the oak branch that desperately needed trimming. 

No cracks from your father smacking one of your brothers for ‘disappointing’ him. No shrills from your mother fussing about whatever she decided would upset her that night. 

Nothing. 

It was complete, utter silence—a silence that would send a shiver down most people’s spine in a house like this. 

As ancient as it is, the walls had witnessed countless tragic displays from the Black ancestors who came before you. These walls are soaked in dark memories, and any visitor would attest that they seep negative energy, drowning those that stay too long. As a resident, you’ve grown used to the sinking feeling in your stomach that comes with being in this house of horrors.

Silent nights like this were something to be grateful for. You could lie in bed, close your eyes, and imagine you were anywhere else. Tonight, it was Hogwarts that you longed for. 

Perhaps you were in your dormitory, about to drift off after a long day of classes. 

Or perhaps you were in the library, studying in the quiet lull of busy students focusing on their work. Perhaps you were even there on a study date with a certain brunette Quidditch captain. Your brother would certainly have a conniption if he knew this particular boy invaded your daydreams. 

You almost drifted off to sleep as this fantasy played like a film on the back of your eyelids. Were those hushed voices you could hear? Had your imagination become so powerful that you could hear students whispering about their assignments? 

Certainly not. The voices were real and coming from somewhere in the house. Your brows furrowed and you strained to listen. Not to eavesdrop, but rather to determine where exactly these voices were coming from. 

You held your breath to listen more closely. Had the voices stopped? Just as you were settling back down to lose yourself in your imagination again, a long, blood-curdling scream jolted you upright from where you lay in bed. 

If you learned anything at the hands of your parents, it was how to discern what was happening just by the sound of your brothers’ screams. You could tell that the scream belonged to a very much in pain Sirius. But the intensity of it was nothing like you’ve heard before. You itched to run to his aid. 

"Don’t do anything."

A memory of Sirius’ voice echoed in your mind. 

"No matter what you hear, you stay in your room and you wait for one of us to come to you."

You always did what you were told, no matter how much you ached to check on your brothers in moments like these. After all, as your brothers claimed, it would only hurt them more if they had to watch what happened to them happen to you, especially if it was just because you wanted to see if they were okay. 

You were the youngest, technically only by two minutes when it came to Regulus, but still, both of your older brothers were fiercely protective over you.

Another spell of silence settled over Grimmauld Place after your brother’s scream. The only noise you could hear now was your heart beating out of your chest. 

That’s what you listened to for twenty long minutes. Your heart rate maintained its rapid pace, as it always did until you saw one of your brothers in the aftermath of the assault. 

Apart from your trembling hands, you sat completely still, waiting and waiting for one of them to come. The longer it took, the more fear built up in your stomach. 

Finally, the sound of booming footsteps landed on your ears as someone barreled up the staircase. Two steps at a time, heavy, and fast. This step pattern was easily distinguished as Sirius’, and you finally stood up from your bed, staring at your door impatiently. 

Sirius burst into your room like a bullet escaping the barrel of a gun. In one swift motion, your brother hauled your empty trunk out from under your bed and dropped it on top. 

He unlatched it and tossed it open, “We’re leaving. For good. Pack only the important stuff.”  

“What happened?” You reached for your brother's arm to force his attention toward you. He hadn’t looked you in the eye once since entering your room. 

His clothes were completely disheveled. As you scanned every thread that was out of place, you noticed that his body was twitching every now and then. His hands trembled, and there was blood on his fingertips. Looking up at his face, you saw the source of blood—a wound hidden behind his hair. He had smeared away what blood had trickled down his forehead with his hands. 

“You need to sit down.” You worried he could have a concussion. 

Sirius took you by the shoulders and thrust you in the direction of your wardrobe. “What I need to do is find out where our parents hide the bloody floo powder. Pack.” 

Sirius’ tone was authoritative and his grave expression made your mouth run dry. Before you could utter words of agreement, he was gone. 

With a wave of your wand, your school books and supplies packed themselves. Meanwhile, you tore through your wardrobe, grabbing the essentials. You moved on quickly to grab whatever else you couldn’t live without: photographs of you and your brothers, letters of love that were hidden behind mirrors, gifted trinkets that you’ve grown attached to, and an ancient bracelet adorned with emeralds. 

As you clicked your trunk shut, Sirius appeared once again with a crystal jar under his left arm, which also balanced his own trunk. His wand was held defensively in his other hand. 

“Let’s go,” Sirius said flatly.

You followed him closely down the stairs to the drawing room. 

Sirius placed the crystal jar on the mantle of the fireplace. You glanced back in the direction from which you came.

“And Regulus?” You asked, wondering where your twin brother was. He would be joining you, wouldn’t he?

Sirius had an unreadable look on his face as he paused to answer you. Before he could, the shrill voice of your mother interrupted, “What do you think you are doing!?”

Sirius grabbed you forcefully by the arms and shoved you into the fireplace. Your right elbow scraped across the brick like chalk as Sirius was acting too fast to be careful. 

“Don’t you dare!” your mother bellowed and began casting hexes straight at you and your brother, aiming to maim. Luckily, Sirius was quite skilled with protego after all these years. 

In between casting protection spells, Sirius shoved his hand into the crystal jar and collected a heap of floo powder. He thrust the soft, emerald powder into your palm. “Go to the Potters! I’ll be right behind you.”

As always, you did what your brother told you to. In a flash, you were stumbling into the cozy living room of the Potter's house in Godric’s Hollow. 

Your eyes and mouth were filled with soot, and you nearly tripped on the carpet as you stumbled blindly away from the fireplace. Instead of falling, you ran right into something solid. Calloused hands landed on your upper arms. You blinked soot from your eyes to meet the gaze of James Potter. 

“What’s happened?” His tone was laced with worry as he scanned your body for injuries. He gently picked up your right arm, inspecting the scuffed, bleeding skin. He winced as if the injury was his own. 

You didn't answer. Instead, you turned to watch the fireplace. Feelings of anxiety swirled in the pit of your stomach as you waited for your brother. You thanked Merlin when he arrived just a few moments later. 

He was coughing when he stepped in and fell to the ground almost immediately.

James regarded you briefly, holding his hands out to you as if to say “hold on” before leaving your side. He rushed to his best friend and yelled for his parents as he tried to determine the problem. Sirius’ skin began to swell and turn sickly shades of red. You recognized this as the effects of your mother’s stinging jinx. 

James’ parents rushed into the room with panic written across their faces. They were in their nightwear and had their wands at the ready to defend their boy from any trouble he might be in. As they took in the scene in front of them, they discarded their wands and quickly came to yours and your brother’s rescue. 

Fleamont Potter offered to take you to a guest room, insisting that you shouldn’t see your brother like this. You refused, wanting to stay with Sirius as Euphemia worked quickly to counteract the stinging jinx. Fleamont, like James, couldn’t hide the worry from his face as you settled in on the couch. 

Your eyes were trained on your brother, but you began to feel sick watching him in all that pain. You shifted your gaze to the empty fireplace and wondered if Regulus would be the next to come through. You tried to shut out your other brother’s groans and cries as you stared desperately into the fireplace. 

With a mix of Euphemia’s healing spells and the application of some herby poultice that was perviously prepared by Fleamont, Sirius’ swelling subsided and his groans turned into occasional whimpers. 

You were able to stomach looking at Sirius again, but your face still showed levels of worry and unease. 

Almost as soon as your eyes fluttered back to Sirius, James took notice of your worry. Confident in his mother's ability to tend to any other injuries Sirius may have, he to came you. 

He moved slowly, as if approaching a frightened cat. You didn’t notice him until he spoke.

“Y/N,” He called gently, his voice barely louder than a whisper, “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You tore your gaze away from your older brother to look into the young Potters’ eyes.

“I don’t know why Regulus isn’t here,” you told James. You just wanted someone else to share this concern with. 

James chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Well… when Sirius is better, we’ll find out what he knows about that. Okay?”

Your lower lip trembled as you choked out, “I’m scared for him.”

James offered a sad smile, “I know. We’ll find out as soon as we can, alright? But all we can do for now is make sure you and Sirius are okay. Let me take care of you, yeah?” 

You let your gaze drift away from James and back to your brother once again. He seemed to be in good hands with Euphemia and now Fleamont. 

You nodded, giving James the okay. He had a gentle hold on your upper arm as he led you up off the couch. You followed him through his house until he guided you into the bathroom and sat you down on the lid of the toilet. 

James sifted through the bathroom cabinets until he pulled out a yellowing pouch, stained with age, and a washcloth which he saturated with warm water. 

James held out a hand toward you. “Can I take care of that elbow, m’dear.”

You placed your forearm in James’ palm while his other hand got to work on cleaning your cut skin. As gentle as James was being, you winced anyway. Seeming fearful of causing you more pain, James managed to be even gentler.

Once satisfied, James lost the washcloth and dipped his hand into the pouch that he recovered from the cabinet. The contents he pulled out look considerably fresher than the bag itself, thankfully. 

First, he took out bandages, followed by a clear jar that contained a sticky looking yellow jelly. He scooped up a generous amount on his pointer finger and applied it to your skin. 

As he worked, he kept stealing glances at you, building up the courage to ask what all the Potter’s were surely wondering that night. He decided to bite the bullet, “Do you think you can tell me what happened?”

You explained all that you knew, detailing the events from the moment you heard your brother’s scream to the moment you fell into James’ arms. 

“Don’t know what they did to make him scream like that.” You shuddered at the possibilities. 

James was applying a bandage to you now. “‘S okay. He’s doing better now. My parents probably have him all tucked in bed and fast asleep.” 

James endearingly tapped your nose, “Let’s do the same for you, yeah?”

“I wanna talk to Sirius,” you protested. 

“Like I said, my parents probably have him in bed by now. Come on, I promise we’ll get all your questions answered first thing in the morning.”

You sighed but agreed. James led you through his house once again: up the stairs, down the hall, and through the third door on the left. It was a small room with just a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. 

“Just a moment,” James said and disappeared into the hall. Seconds later, he was back with a Gryffindor t-shirt and some sweats. “Here, you can wear these. I’ll bring your trunk up in the morning.” 

James dipped out of the room once again to give you privacy to change. As you removed your shirt, you noticed bloody fingerprints on the shoulder and sleeves where Sirius had held onto you. You threw the shirt into the bin under the desk. 

Once dressed in James’ loaner clothing, you sat on the bed. Light knocks peppered the door and you called for, presumably, James to come in. James entered with a glass of water in hand. 

“Thank you,” you murmured, taking a few sips from the glass before handing it back. He placed it on the desk for you. 

James then helped you settle into the flowery, purple sheets, “Comfy?” 

You nodded up at him. 

“I’m, uh, just across the hall, alright?” James turned to leave. He stopped by the light switch and looked back at you. 

He took notice of your expression, which brought a frown to his lips. Your eyebrows were drawn in as you stared straight ahead at the wall and the corners of your mouth were turned down slightly. You barely even blinked as James studied the far away look in your eyes. 

James wanted to be by your side. He wanted to kiss you and hug you and tell you everything would be alright. But something about kissing you while your brother, his best friend, lay injured and clueless down the hall made him feel guilty. 

James sighed and flicked off the light. The door was pushed into its frame, but James hadn’t left the room. Instead, he approached the bed and sat on the edge of it by your feet. You pushed yourself up on your elbows to look at him curiously. 

“Gonna keep you company till you fall asleep, that okay?” James whispered an explanation. 

You’re not sure if he could see your nod in the dark, but you were too tired to use your voice. 

You sank back into the pillow and allowed your eyes to shut. A light pressure could be felt on your calf. James had rested his hand there, over the blanket. He slowly dragged his hand up and down, and you let his stroke lull you to sleep. 

The last thing you heard before drifting off into a dream was a quiet whisper from James' lips, "'M gonna keep you safe here."

next part

[slayingqueenchal]

Got a thing for my sister, moony? | remus lupin x f!black!reader

Summary : sirius notices that when it's close to the full moon remus is an asshole but when it comes to y/n he's an absolute sweet heart

Warning : one year age gap (youre regulus's twin sis), Gryffindor reader (i hope that still makes u interested), pet names like 'love, sweet heart, darling', fluff

It was... Sirius figured it out. When remus told him about his so called lopsided hair

"Padfoot, your hair looks lopsided today" Remus said, his left hand on his chin and his right hand pointing on sirius's hair.

When you heard that, you chocked on your drink. I mean it's true, you agreed with remus, his hair does look lopsided. "Mhm, top tier comedy isn't it sis? " Said sirius sarcastically.

The other boys laughed but, remus looked concerned. You were ready for his insults to you, cause full moons in a few day.

"You alright, darling? " Said remus. Suddenly it was sirius's time to chocke on his water. "What the hell did you call my sister".

"Darling, you have a problem with that, padfoot" Said remus confidently. "Geez, almost got me a concussion" Sirius said, taking another sip of water.

Or when sirius, James and Peter found you and remus together in the library.

"What does this all mean im gonna go insane" you said. Defense against the dark arts is your least favorite subjects.

"Hey, hey, it's alright sweetheart, we can take a break, you know, I brought snacks" Remus smiled brightly.

"Really, what snacks? " You asked. "You know, the toast that you call moony toast, that one" He put it on the table. "And you made two! " You smiled.

"Yes, one for me, and one for you, of course i can't forget to make you one" Remus grinned, taking one piece of his toast and ate it.

And when you five sneaked to the astronomy towers to plan some pranks

"What should we do, to snivellus house Slytherin" James walked around the astronomy tower. "Maybe we could put nifflers in the Slytherins common room? " You said.

The boys said it was a good idea but, Remus called you "love, y/n, come". " Yeah, what is it, rem? " You sat next to him, his hands on your back.

"Look at that, that's a shooting star, what are you gonna wish for? " He said, pointing at the moving star.

"Hm, I want us to be friends forever, you and me, always, forever" You looked at the stars, and Remus, then the stars.

"Well, love, I want more than that" Remus said.

That's when Sirius snapped out of it. He realized what remus ment was not oh 'I want more than that like money,or something else's but it was 'I want to be more than friend's.

That evening, Sirius walked to the hospital wing, to see Remus.

"Where's y/n? " Sirius asked. "Oh, she just left, I told her to, she looks tired" Remus said, the pain in his eyes were still visible even though it was hours after the full moon.

"I need to talk to you" Sirius grabbed a stool, sitting closely to remus. "I know you fancy my sister, it's obvious! The way you look at her, the way you're a complete gentleman towards her, bloody hell you like my sister"

Remus's face looks like the moon had come early, "n-no", " Oh dont deny it, moons, I'm fine with it! " Sirius smiled.

"Okay, Sirius, i- I don't just like your sister, I fell for her--the way she acts, her beautiful hair, her pretty face, her soothing voice, and she's everything to me! But you'll hate me for falling in love with her"

"Seriously Remus? Gosh it's obvious that you love her, I mean go for it, ask her out, or something" Sirius smiled.

"Really? " Remus smiled, and Sirius nodded.

[cherryslyce]

Second Son (XIV) | Regulus Black

Series Synopsis: Forbidden from contacting Harry over the summer, you opt to explore the eerie halls of Grimmauld Place where you stumble upon a lonely portrait of the House's second son.

— Chapter Synopsis: Y/N joins Contessa Zabini for tea. Luna and Y/N make way to Reine, Norway. Y/N remembers something important about Regulus.

Part XIII / Part XV / Series Masterlist

Pairing: Regulus Black x GN!Reader

Notes: The Zabini's and Baroque architecture just makes sense to me. Also uhhh have fun <3.

The cranberry tinted cup that sat in front of you made your tea flush like diluted blood, the glass flared at the rims to resemble a blossom, imposing on the matching saucer that you couldn’t draw your eyes away from. 

Luna sat perfectly quaint to your left, eyes running across the opulent clusters of furniture that accessorized the already extravagant room. Intricate carvings lined cream pillars that pinched the rounded windows in front of you, each imposing structure veiled by heavy blush curtains. The wooden table in front of you was polished spotlessly, matching the ornate chair that sat sturdy underneath your rigid body. On the opposite wall, you’re suddenly aware of the colossal gold-trimmed mirror that was no doubt reflecting your squared shoulders. 

Blaise was living in a baroque daydream. Damn him. 

Your tongue was doing a funny thing, tipping between sensitivity and leathery roughness. That would be of your own doing, having immediately drawn your lips to the scalding tea in an effort to diffuse the tension in your shoulders. Despite the abrupt burn, you had held in the sputtering that twisted in your throat in order to maintain some semblance of decorum. 

The silence was becoming unnerving and you could tell that Blaise agreed, the usually composed slytherin was twitching to twist his rings for the nth time. Unexpectedly, when you all had arrived at the Zabini Manor, you were met with a rather unimpressed Theodore Nott. Blaise had quietly whispered that the boy was well-liked by his mother and was often a guest at their manor. 

It felt like you and Luna had become prey trapped in a den full of beguiling predators. The Contessa sat across from you with Blaise to her right, the woman not even batting an eye when Theodore chose to round the table and sit next to you instead. 

Easy access to attack you or was he also intimidated by the elegant woman?

“So you were at a wedding, dear?” The Contessa’s voice was smothered in a richness that complemented her unflinching gaze. 

Clearing your throat lightly, you lean forward to meet her keen eyes, “Yes.” Your tone was mellow–formal, and the lack of embellishing in your answer seemed to both amuse and vex her. 

Not giving up so easily, the woman stirs her tea without breaking eye contact, “I see, and you were both making a quick trip to Diagon Alley afterwards?” The question would have seemed innocent if it were coming from anybody else (perhaps with the exception of Voldemort), but you could practically see the gears in her head turning. 

“A little disruption ruined our appetite for celebration.”

The woman raises a perfectly trimmed eyebrow at you, “Oh? What’s a wedding without a little family drama?” 

You felt like someone had taken a bludger and scrambled your brains with it, high society was truly not for the weak to stomach. You weren’t even sure if the Contessa was teasing you or trying to prod for information. 

It was likely the latter, and the thought made your stomach twist a little. Your exchange of letters had always been polite, borderlining strained pleasantries that involved Hogwarts classes, your research, and plans to meet up (that you were hoping to never attend). 

“Family drama would have been preferable, I’m afraid,” Your tone lifted ever so slightly, but the small smile pulling at your lips hid how irritated you were becoming with the tango of words. 

You shoot Blaise a small glance and see him watching you both with an unreadable expression, though his intense eyes unnerved you a bit. Like mother, like son.

The Contessa’s lips purse thinly and you get the impression that she is also becoming increasingly irate with your resolution, but then her face settles into a sharp grin.

Humming lowly, she tilts her head to assess you before speaking, “You impress me, my dear. It would seem that Blaise is getting better at picking his companions,” You see her shoot a small approving glance at Theodore, who merely sips his tea nonchalantly, “Theodore, Y/N – I hope you both will continue to look out for Blaise. We Zabini’s pride ourselves in our unflinching loyalty and we always return what is given to us threefold.” 

Chancing a peek at the boy next to you, you see Theodore meet your eyes evenly. Your move. 

Nodding at the dignified woman, you smile genuinely for the first time that evening, “It would be my honor, Contessa Zabini. However, my devotion to Blaise would have continued without question, he is quite-” you raise your eyebrow at the boy, “-fascinating, after all.” 

By fascinating, I mean half as scary as you and ten times more approachable. His wicked sense of humor is also a plus.  

Blaise narrows his eyes goodheartedly and drops a sugar cube into his cooled tea, “Thanks.” The dry response has Theodore hiding a small smirk in his tea cup, while the Contessa merely shoots an unimpressed look at her son’s sickly concoction. 

“Indeed, you are quite personable, Y/N. I can’t help but wonder though, what is your stance on the current political climate? It would be ever so insightful for me.” The woman smoothly questions, the calculative glint in her eyes flashing under the chandelier lights. 

Translation: Are you going to induct my son into Voldemort’s goonies or Dumbledore’s sycophants?

Stirring your tea absentmindedly, you decide to answer honestly, “I have my own motivations that don’t exactly align with the polarized ideologies of our sphere. Of course, I have a preference for who I wish to see come out on top, but either way, my own interests outweigh my desire to participate in politics.” 

Your answer seems to catch everybody off guard (except for Luna who smiles like she’s known all along), and you see consideration paint the Contessa’s face, “Interesting. Blaise has indicated that you are quite close with Harry Potter, yet you declare neutrality?” 

“Neutrality for as long as my interests continue to hold my attention, but I hold no ounce of admiration for the Dark Lord or his underlings.” You hesitate to continue, feeling shifty with how easily your words were spilling out. 

Blaise seems to grasp onto your words and leans forwards to prod you, “But?” 

“But, I do not think that certain knowledge and teachings should be tabooed.” 

Theodore speaks up for the first time to confirm what you were insinuating, “The Dark Arts.” 

You nod and lift up your tea cup, sipping carefully despite how tasteless it was due to your burns. 

“And these interests of yours, do they involve the Dark Arts?” The Contessa swipes a manicured nail around the handle of her cup, eyes no longer shrewd. 

Biting the inside of your cheek, you lean back before answering lightly, “They might. I cannot say for certainty that they do. However, it does involve unusual magic.” 

“I see. It makes sense now why you asked to see those Norwegian tomes.” The woman’s eyes are alight, a glow that made it seem as though an investment of hers bloomed to fruition beautifully. 

You shuddered imperceptibly. Was it an honor or an omen that she seemed so intrigued by you? 

Theodore perks up and he turns to you with wide eyes, “Norwegian tomes?” 

The boy’s eagerness for knowledge was palpable, and you couldn’t help but be amused by his antics. It was so familiar because you saw it often in Regulus. 

Regulus. You winced. You wouldn’t think about it anymore. 

“Yes,” Turning to face the Contessa, you weigh your options, “If I may, I was wondering if I could borrow an owl for a letter. I want to inform my other friends of my plans going forward.” 

Blaise raises his eyebrows and frowns, “Plans? Are you not meeting up with them soon?” 

“Actually, I-” Luna turns to you with determined eyes at your slip up, “-we are heading North.” 

“North?” Blaise looks exceedingly unimpressed and you knew you wouldn’t be going anywhere until you satiated his curiosity. 

“Yes, up North.” 

“Where up North, pray tell?” He drawls with crossed arms. 

“Norway. We’re going to Norway.” Your tone was flat, eyes conveying your exasperation. 

Blaise sputters indignantly and barely restrains himself from throwing his hands up, “Norway? We have school in two weeks! How long are you planning to be there for?” 

“Indefinitely. It’s for my personal research.” 

“Well, I’m coming with you.” Blaise’s declaration has you darting your eyes to the Contessa with bated breath, watching the woman cross her arms. 

“Absolutely not. You have school, caro.” Blaise frowns deeply at his mother’s refusal and sits back in his seat, shoulders sagging in defeat, unwilling to argue with her. Theodore looks at you like you’ve grown a second head, likely considering if he would be able to leave school early too with the excuse of sabbatical. 

The Contessa turns to you, ignoring her son’s fit, “Of course, I’ll have one of my house elfs fetch you some parchment and ink. I’m sure Blaise wouldn’t mind if you borrowed his owl,” The woman suddenly rises from her seat and shoots you all a pleasant smile before smoothing out her dress, “This evening has been quite insightful. I look forward to our next meeting, Y/N. Safe journeys, don’t be a stranger.” 

Without waiting for a response, the woman spins on her heel and struts towards the double doors, calling for an elf as she crosses the threshold, “Viren, bring some parchment and ink for my guests.” The door clicks shut behind her as her last words reach your ears, and you slump in your seat as exhaustion soars through your veins. 

Before a disgruntled Blaise or an eager Theodore – the bloody ravenclaw in snake skin, can get a word out, a light pop draws your attention towards a rather properly dressed house elf, parchment and writing supplies in tow. 

Luna is quick to gather the supplies and quietly thank the elf, smoothing out the parchment in front of you. 

“I still want to go with you.” Blaise’s voice is soft, and you’re unable to detect any irritation. 

Peering up from your writing, you smile lightly at the two boys, “Sorry. You two need to hold down the fort. I didn’t say anything earlier, but the Ministry has been infiltrated by Voldemort and his followers, that’s why we left the wedding in such a hurry. Scrimgeour is dead as well,” You heave a sigh and flick the quill casually, “I suspect Hogwarts is going to be overtaken next, and Harry and I wouldn’t be caught dead there this year, we’d be like little crup puppies in a ball pit.” 

Both slytherins look stumped by your straightforwardness, and Blaise huffs out a little ‘well shit’ that has you nodding. 

Theodore stares deeply into the translucent pool of tea in his cup, voice barely above a whisper, “The war is going to end soon.” 

“Yes, and Harry’s going to make sure Voldemort is damned all the way into the afterlife.” If either of the boys were unconvinced by your conviction, they didn’t let it show, opting to share a look of understanding with each other before turning to you and nodding lightly. 

Blaise rounds the table and drops his hands onto your shoulders, “You better not die. And I guess I can take care of our ward for the time being.” 

“Ward?” Theodore sounds (rightfully) perplexed by his best friend’s words. 

“Little Draconis,” you supply, much to Theodore’s bewilderment, “And Blaise, stop making it sound like we’ve adopted him!” 

You wave your friend off and finish up your letter, leaning back in satisfaction as you hear Blaise clamber away to fetch his owl. 

Prongslet (and co), 

Luna and I are going to redeem our meal tickets (not as bizarre of a gift as one may think). We may not be back before darkness falls. Tell the old menace I said hello, and that I will make good on my promise to him. Stay safe and stay together. 

- Someone’s beloved Birdie 

Norway was incomparably arctic to Britain, the frigid winds bit at the tips of your fingers with fervid rushes, and you were positive that your legs were now flesh icicles. Despite how ardently your body protested against the climate, you couldn’t help the serene smile that mapped the muscles of your face. The chill was not the only difference the region had over Britain, and its tranquility was almost foreign to you. 

Now more than ever, Wizarding Britain seemed to have a miasma of doom looming over the country and the change of pace was almost tangible. 

“Here we are,” Luna’s airy voice was a welcomed sound amidst your inner exultation. You couldn’t help but draw similarities between the mysticality of Luna’s magic and disposition, and the blankets of fog that permeated over the lake in the far distance. 

Both were curious in their own aspects, but you couldn’t help but want to melt deeper in the feeling they both surrounded you with. 

You pulled your overcoat tighter around your body, thanking Merlin and those above that Blaise practically tore his closet right to left to find suitable clothing for you and Luna before you both departed from Zabini Manor. 

Stepping closer to Luna, you hum as you observe the view in the distance, “It’s beautiful.” 

Reine was truly idyllic. The fishing village was cupped by snowy peaks that towered over the clots of buildings which mottled the shores of the lake – a place truly untouched by the withering fog of petulant human conflict. 

The apparition was quite tiring and you could feel fatigue coiling around your muscles, urging you to quickly seek refuge.

“Couldn’t have picked a better place really: picturesque, remote, and lauded for proficiency in multiple languages.” Your words are light and playful, spurning a grin to bloom on Luna’s face. 

Dumbledore practically handed you a bubble-wrapped opportunity served on a golden platter. 

The both of you begin to trek towards the village, not wanting to risk apparition in case you were seen by any locals. To your knowledge, this Anders Fiske was the only magical folk in Reine, holing himself away from densely populated regions for reasons only Merlin knows. 

As you approach the banks of the waters and the largest building amongst the cluster, you inhale shakily as you see a sinewy man exit the building. The man seems to pause and do a double take, fully turning when he realized that you weren’t a figment of his imagination. 

“Hello,” His voice is gruff and gratingly neutral, only weakening your resolve. 

Talking to people was hard. But you survived a – conversation? interrogation? with Contessa Zabini, this should be a piece of cake. 

“Hello, we’re looking for someone named Anders Fiske,” your tone is even and you try your best to look as friendly as possible. Luna simply stares off into a red house in the distance, seeming to look straight through the man in front of you. 

Immediately, you can see the man tense before he forcibly relaxes his stance, pinching his eyebrows together as he surveys you, “There is no one here by that name.” 

You would have believed him. If you were a dolt, of course. 

“Are you certain? It’s rather important, and he’s the only one that can help us.” The man doesn’t falter and you frown when you feel something inch towards you. 

Helga almighty. 

He had a magical signature. The man in front of you was clearly a wizard, whether he knew it or not. 

Before you can ruminate on your discovery, the man speaks up, “Yes. So you both should leave.” 

A subtle bone in his body, there was not.

Feeling your eye twitch, you decide to do some searching on your own terms. Releasing your magic, you slowly blanket the surrounding buildings in search for another magical signature. It was clear enough that the man in front of you was not who you were looking for – unless Dumbledore wanted you to have some grilled monkfish with the most conspicuous wizard ever to roam the earth since Godric Gryffindor himself. 

As you continue to scavenge the village with your magic, the man in front of you shifts from side to side, clearly becoming wary of your sudden silence and blank stare. 

Before you can continue, a thunderous slam has you flinching out of your concentration. Peering around the looming man, your eyes meet a guarded gaze. Tilting your head, you sidestep and assess the newcomer, smiling slowly as you realize that he was another wizard. 

The new man was much older and you could see the way he leaned on his right leg as if his left one was aching from the slightest pressure. He was hunched in the pathway of the red house Luna was observing, mouth set into a deep frown. 

“Bingo,” Without waiting for the younger man to say anything (or possibly toss you into the lake), you stroll over toward the older man who was slowly retreating back into his house. 

Luna follows after you and nods happily to herself, starting to skip by your side. 

Stopping a few yards away from the man, you roll your shoulders to ease your soreness before jumping into the golden question, “Are you Anders Fiske?” 

The man appears to be ready to vehemently deny your question, but Luna speaks up before he can even utter a mumble, “Dumbledore sent us!” 

“Dumbledore?” The man’s harsh wrinkles smooth over ever so slightly, and your former headmaster’s name seems to roll off his tongue instinctually. 

“Yes. In his will, he told me that I needed to seek you out for a…meal? I’m in need of your help,” The man seems nonplussed by your declaration, and you purse your lips before sweetening up your words, “Please.” 

You see the man’s eyes flicker behind you and back rapidly, seeming to mull over everything. 

Without a word, the man dips into the shadow of his house with one last glower. 

Excuse me, what?

“Come,” You’re startled out of your stupor by a familiar deep voice, and you can only trail forward, mouth hung open, as the younger man leads you and Luna inside. 

As the younger man closes the door shut behind you, an array of lamps flicker to life around the room, illuminating the perimeter much to your amazement. The room was cozy and frazzled in a similar fashion to the Weasley’s home, and your eyes couldn’t help but trail across a wall of tomes the size of your head. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” The older man – Anders, grumbles from the middle of the room, sat at the dining table with a demeanor you found synonymous with Moody during meetings at Grimmauld Place. 

Smiling coyly, you watch Luna as she wanders almost weightlessly towards the small corner kitchen, “You shouldn’t have revealed yourself, Anders.” 

The man lets out a low grunt and you almost have to physically restrain your eyebrows from floating off your face. This man was literally Moody in a different, older font. 

“You would have figured it out anyway. Could feel that magic of yours suffocating the whole place from in here.” His tone was rough, but you wanted to believe that there was an impressed shine in his eyes. 

The younger man who was (surprisingly) still behind you, decides to interrupt your conversation, “Father, who are these people?” 

Anders places his elbows on the table and gives you and Luna a once-over, “Magical folk.” 

“A threat?” Anders’ son carries an edge to his tone that has you nearly rolling your eyes. 

You were about to blast him through the window, but you couldn’t let this opportunity slip away because of unbridled temptations. 

“That remains to be seen.” 

Anders’ reply seems to placate his son for the time being, and he heads off towards Luna as the girl hunches over to study a chipped teapot on the counter. You shift and make your way to stand in across from Anders, not exactly sure what approach to take. 

The yellow lighting bounced off the man’s face and gave him a sickly complexion, emphasizing his stress lines and suspicious eyes as you drew closer. 

“So, Dumbledore is dead?” He sounded almost regretful. Either that or you knocked your head on the way in. 

“Unfortunately. War is not forgiving, especially to martyrs.” Your tone was not nearly as sad as it probably should have been, but it seemed to be of no trouble for the older wizard. 

Anders sighs and leans back in his seat, one hand coming to clutch his shoulder unconsciously, “The old fool knew what he was getting into,” He raises his eyes to look at you appraisingly, “Can’t imagine why he’d send you my way, anyway.” 

“I’m researching. Something that is unfortunately, extremely niche. Dumbledore said you might be able to enlighten me on the subject.” Your determined tone seems to draw in some interest from him, and you have to mask the victorious feeling that washes over you. 

That’s right, scholar to scholar. Hook, line, and sinker.  

The man waits for you to continue, so you slowly pull out the chair in front of you and sink down across from him, “It’s about magical essences. It seems that you are quite sensitive to magical signatures, seeing as you could sense me releasing my magic earlier,” Anders gives a brisk nod, and you clench your hands as you continue, “A few summers ago, I encountered something strange–special. I found a portrait that was imbued with magical essence, and this portrait, he was extremely sentient.” 

You feel a knot lodge in your throat at the reminder of Regulus, the wound of his destruction feeling painfully raw again. Seeing your sudden hesitance, Anders raises a scruffy white eyebrow, “And where is this portrait now?” 

Your gaze drops to the table, your eyes blazing right into the worn wood, so marred and aged, unlike the one at Zabini Manor. 

“Gone, then? I don’t know how I’m supposed to be of help in that case.” You raise your eyes and meet his cold gaze, clenching your jaw at his stoic expression, “You both can stay the night in the basement, for the sake of doing an old friend a favor. I expect you to be gone by daylight, tomorrow.” 

Without pause, Anders pushes himself off the chair and limps further into the house, leaving you to awkwardly stew in your rejection while his son and Luna linger behind you. 

Anders’ son breaks the tense silence first, “Sorry about him, he’s…” 

“Stubborn?” Luna offers. 

“Honest.” You reply at the same time. 

Whirling around in your seat, you will away the veil of exhaustion and hurt that clouded your mind and look up at Anders’ son, really seeing him for the first time. You see the resemblance between the both of them, from their narrowed eyes to their thin noses, and the unmistakable metallic chill engulfed in both of their magic. 

Slowly rising from your seat, you send a fleeting smile to the boy, “Don’t believe we know your name.” 

“Asger,” His tone is much less taut than before, from pity or understanding, you didn’t know. 

“Nice to meet you, and thanks.” 

The boy–Asger, waves off your thanks and simply juts his shoulder forward, silently telling you to follow him. Feeling all of your survival instincts switch off, you tread behind him with glassy eyes, barely aware of your surroundings even when Luna tucks her arm around your body, guiding you around the unfamiliar environment. 

It appeared that Anders utilized his magical prowess and performed a disappearing act by the time you reached the basement, the older man being nowhere in sight despite the fact that there was only one door in the back of the house–which led to the basement. 

You and Luna got settled in, not bothered by the loose threads of your blankets or the dusty boxes that rested against the walls. You were both given a (surprisingly) comfortable mattress to share, and you almost wanted to cry when Luna started to draw patterns on your palm as you both stared up at the spackled ceiling. 

“Our journey has not ended yet,” Luna’s voice is small, but still fueled with conviction. 

“Thanks, Luna. I don’t even know where I’d be without you.” 

A comfortable silence descends upon you two, and you shift to get comfortable in your spot, realizing that Blaise’s overcoat was making it difficult to turn over. Slowly sitting up, you shrug off the thick material, and fix your jacket, realizing it was slightly askew from your movements. As you smooth down the material, you freeze as your hand moves over a thick bulk in your inner pocket. 

Portrait…? 

No. Of course not.  

Ignoring the cold sinking of your stomach, you fish out the object and search blindly for your wand. 

“Lumos.” 

Your breath hitches. 

Regulus’ journal. The one you found stuffed between his mattresses. Swallowing harshly, you slowly run a hand over the wrinkled cover. 

How could you have forgotten?

As you try to maneuver your wand to allow both of your hands to be free, a gentle tug has you swiveling your head to the side. Luna merely smiles at you before looking back at the journal, nimbly holding your wand over the book so you could flip through it. 

“I can look away if you want,” Luna’s gentle voice slices through the air with a warmth that you viscerally feel in your chest, and you smile at the girl in gratitude. As she turns her gaze to the darkness, seemingly becoming entranced by nothingness, you slowly furl the first pages open. 

Property of Regulus Arcturus Black 

You turn the page, fingers twitching as you resist the temptation to trace the swirls of his name. 

3 November, 1976 

Today is Sirius’ birthday. The first year he will celebrate away from home, as a disappointment to the family name. Mother and Father were particularly cold today. I just have to try harder. Sirius has stopped replying to my letters, and he avoids me in the halls. 

I think I hate him. 

Your heart pounds furiously in your chest as you reread the entry, struck by the unfamiliar loathing coated in his tone. Sirius was sixteen when he left, so seventeen in 1976. Regulus was only fifteen when he wrote this, and already so tied down by his family and abandonment issues. 

The next few pages contain similar entries, all filled with abhorrence for Sirius and bitterness towards his parents. 

Then the year changes. 

8 September, 1978 

The Dark Lord is going to change the world, make it a better, purer place. Mother and Father were pleased when I announced that I would be taking the mark soon, already having made strides among his growing forces. 

Sirius would hate it. I know he would. But he would expect it. He should, anyway. 

He already hates me, what damage could this do to our already broken relationship? 

He should hate me. 

I hate myself. I hate him.

I hate him so much.  

17 December, 1978

Visiting my portrait was eventful. I can feel him growing stronger with every meeting. I think I’ll have to repaint it soon, looking at it and seeing a reflection of who I used to be never gets easier. 

The next repaint, I’m going to finally do it. Hopefully, all my research will have paid off. Uncle Alphard’s book on magical essences was more helpful than I could have ever imagined. 

The room is complete, and I can feel my magic all over it. If I can imbue it into my portrait as well, it will be perfect. 

Maybe then he can forgive me. If I explain. If I try. 

The Dark Lord is expecting me soon. 

3 January, 1979 

The repainting was a success. My hand will be sore for the next few days, but it was all worth it. I finally figured out how to key the room. The only person who will be able to access it now is Sirius. That is if he ever returns home. 

My portrait is so like me, it’s truly uncanny. Perhaps I can publish my findings after I graduate. 

My mark aches often. 

I miss Sirius. 

5 March, 1979

The Dark Lord tried to kill Kreacher. 

After everything I’ve done for him. After everything I’ve sacrificed. 

Sirius was right. 

Kreacher keeps talking about a potion and a locket. I need to understand. I have to. 

It is imperative that I impart everything I know to my portrait, so Sirius will know that I tried. That I finally understand. 

Is this my punishment? Must I suffer so for forgiveness? If he does not forgive me, will it all have been for nothing? 

I need to find out what the Dark Lord is hiding. It will be my repentance. 

19 May, 1979 

Horcruxes. 

Such vile creations, a defiling of one’s soul. The Dark Lord has a horcrux. I need to destroy it. 

My portrait grows restless with me. To think it was even possible. He only has the faintest ideas of my current ambitions, but I feel everyday that he is growing to be someone I never could be. Someone that Sirius would be able to forgive. 

I’ll destroy the horcrux and accept the conditions tied to it. 

There is no other way. 

8 June, 1979

Everyday I grow closer to executing my plan. 

I have given my portrait everything he needs to know. 

I wonder, is all soul magic as abominable as horcruxes? I begin to see parallels with magical essences and soul magic. Yet, they feel completely different. 

Or perhaps I have finally lost all sense. I have always been a hypocrite. 

I wait with bated breath. 

I will destroy it even if it kills me, and it will be glorious. 

28 July, 1979 

I fear that if I wait any longer I will go back on my conviction. 

Mother and Father are growing increasingly vexed with me. I think they want to marry me off by winter. 

It will be before then. 

I have stopped confiding in my portrait about my deeper feelings. I fear that my weakness will be obvious even to him. 

I have read more about magical essences to distract myself. Even the Dark Lord is not omniscient. Magical essences have ties to one’s soul, the bounds of such revelation I do not know. Yet, I have learned of something even the Dark Lord is ignorant to, and because of that, he has debased himself with horcruxes. 

A small victory, and an inkling of how it will feel when he’s gone. 

When he falls. 

14 August, 1979 

I will do it in autumn. 

I hope it will all be worth it. 

26 October, 1979 

My portrait can cast magic. 

I wonder if Sirius will be proud. 

29 October, 1979 

I wonder what being in love feels like. 

2 November, 1979 

I never really had aspirations outside of what was expected of me. 

Have I always been so pitiful? Was I the only one who couldn’t see it? 

15 November, 1979 

I hear that the Potters are expecting their first child. 

I wonder how Sirius will treat their baby. 

I think I’m going crazy. 

17 November, 1979 

Tomorrow. 

You flip through the journal hastily, and you feel your eyes sting in the darkness at the crushing realization. 

Blank pages. Empty and unfeeling, and so telling of his fate. 

You weren’t going to leave tomorrow. 

Anders would have to drag you kicking and screaming. You wouldn’t give up on Regulus, not after everything he sacrificed. 

You will do whatever it takes. 

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