#the fact that james just expressed his undying love for me means nothing

[jegulus-trash]

[startanewdream]

Five Stages of Starflower

Summary: James is oblivious, Lily is mostly okay with her unrequited love and Sirius has a few plans about this situation. For @keepingupwithpotters,@sunshine-marauders, @cellularphoneexplosion and @zephyrcove who all gave me the most Jily prompt of all time (“Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”) and for @magixbeans (“I refuse to stop irritating you until you give me attention.”). Thanks for helping me celebrate this day ❤

Warning only for a few f-words every now and then (Lily curses when she is upset).

Sirius knows it.

Sirius fucking Black knows it.

Lily had been careful ever since last semester when she started to realize the signs of those things. She’d tried to back away, to avoid more contact despite the fact they had exchanged letters through Summer (just normal conversation, talking about what was going on and their families and discussing their friends – it didn’t mean anything), and that they had seen each other (they just happened to be on Diagon Alley on the same day to shopping, which was smarter and safer—and also didn’t mean anything), and Lily had convinced herself that her feelings for him were entirely friendly and would remain so—if only they hadn’t become Heads together.

There was no way her feelings could remain amicable when she was required to stay together with James Potter for hours at a time, alone in the Prefects Room as they worked and planned, their hands brushing against each other sometimes; or when they would run away to share a hot chocolate at the kitchen, enjoying the fact that as Head Boy and Head Girl they could ignore a little more the curfew, and he’d make her laugh and would help her wipe off the chocolate out of the corner of her mouth.

Lily had fancied someone before, and she knew how to identify the signs, as pale as those previous signs seemed when it came to James. Still, she knew what meant the way she would shiver whenever he’d touched her, or how her heart would skip a beat when their eyes met without planning and he would grin deviously at her or how she would sit closer to him than she needed, just to catch a sniff more of that wonderful scent.

She was falling for James Potter and the worst part was that she’d totally missed the timing in which he fancied her back.

Because all those signs she saw in herself were unfortunately absent from him. James had apparently mastered the art of considering her as nothing more than his friend, because when he’d touched the corner of her mouth—and she had blinked to him, she really had, a blink that said we are alone now and you are touching my mouth can you just kiss me?—James had done nothing but smile nicely, friendly, drawing away.

And she absolutely knew he was treating her as just his friend when the very next week he’d asked her if she didn’t mind changing her Friday patrol rounds with Leanne Diggory. Fridays were the day they patrolled together until late in the night. Fridays were the days where they would go to the kitchen and share a drink and talk about life and it was their moment.

‘Sure,' she had said, acting as if she didn’t understand what his request meant for them. ‘Any particular reason?’

James had flushed then, his hand automatically flying to his hair like he did when he was nervous and after a moment he glanced at Leanne across the Prefects Room. Lily had followed the direction of his gaze; Leanne was smiling back at James and Lily understood even more.

‘Well,’ she said then, keeping her voice carefully light even as a crushing weight had taken residence in her chest. ‘It’s a pretty reason.'

She couldn’t fault James for not being interested in her anymore, but she couldn’t also just stop feeling that thing for him, not since there was no way for her to avoid him completely. So she resigned herself to having a platonic crush on James Potter, one that she administered very well until the day of the first Quidditch game of the season.

Lily had been so diligent that none of her friends had noticed her feelings for him—and she knew that because there was no way Mary or Dorcas would keep it silent if they suspected. She had been careful not to gasp when they were on the grounds and James had been dropped at the lake by Sirius, stepping out of the water and taking off his shirt to dry himself (but she had taken that memory to her heart and lost herself in dreams about him); she had not frowned when she saw James leaving his group at the last Hogsmeade trip to go talk with Leanne, flashing that dangerous grin of his to her (but she had punched her pillow in anger lately, wishing James had come to her).

And then there was the first Quidditch match and Gryffindor had won and in the post-game euphoria, Lily had made the tiny mistake of hugging James and keeping that guilty longing smile on her face when they had broken apart.

That’s when her gaze had met Sirius, and he had widened his eyes in surprise, taking in all that her smile meant—by the time Lily had rearranged her face into a normal expression, Sirius was smirking knowingly, that moron.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He knows. Lily knows he knows. Sirius knows Lily knows he knows.

It could be worse if it were any of other James’ friends, she reasons dismayingly. Remus would have come to talk to her and urge her to share her feelings with James; Peter would spill the word to James, unable to keep a secret from him.

But it doesn’t look like any of these other scenarios is really worse as she sees Sirius’ eyes shining with a predatory look, like a wolf that knows it got his prey.

She considers running away. But Lily is no coward, there is no place for her to go permanently and she believes in keeping her enemies closer, if Sirius could be considered as one, at any chance. That’s why she keeps her ground, pretending everything is nice and not at all bothered when she sees James is near the fireplace talking with Leanne Diggory.

It won’t fool Sirius, but Lily can keep her dignity at least.

And remaining alone at the drinks table allows for him to get closer to her, which is important for her to check how much damage she did today.

‘Enjoying the party, Evans?’

Lily nearly sighs. Nearly one year of friendship with the Marauders told her they only call her by the last name when they are in full teasing mode.

James calls her a lot by Evans, though, but it sounds nice and she rather likes it.

‘Same as always. Nice party.'

‘Oh, I thought you’d be feeling… too crowded.' Sirius throws a glance towards the fireplace and Lily doesn’t need to follow the direction of his gaze to know what he is talking about. ‘Maybe you wish you were at one of those Head meetings.'

Lily pretends to be amused. ‘Heads can enjoy parties too.'

‘One of the Heads is certainly enjoying the party if the party is happening back at the throat of Leanne Diggory—’

She can control her eyes enough to not look in their direction to confirm how literal Sirius is being right now, but she cannot stop the grimace on her face fast enough; it is a spasm of hurt and anger and jealousy, and it becomes obvious that Sirius saw all these emotions when his grin just increases.

Well, too late to still save her dignity.

‘Good for him. Now, if you excuse me—’

‘Oh, I don’t,’ he replies gladly. ‘Why, you seem a little green to me, Evans.'

‘It’s my eyes, maybe you didn’t notice their colour before.'

‘Well, I never particularly cared, but I remember a young bloke reciting that your eyes were pure emerald bestowing grace upon that poor bloke’s heart.'

‘Jade,’ she corrects before she can think better of it. ‘He compared them to jades.'

Sirius’ grin is criminal now. At least, it’s making her want to murder him.

‘My, Evans, for someone that threw a hex at him you seem to have memorized his words.'

‘He kneeled to recite that poem to me in the middle of the Common Room, what else could I do?’

‘Snogged him?’ Sirius suggests, arching one eyebrow when Lily shakes her head. ‘Just imagine, if you had snogged him back then, he might not be snogging someone else right now.'

It’s a fair assumption, but this time Lily doesn’t have to disguise any particular emotion. She doesn’t regret not going out with James before; they were far too different back then. He matured a lot since those days when he would ask her out when he would be so infatuated with her that it was annoying mostly…

Unfortunately, in the list of things he changed since growing up, his feelings for her were included.

That makes her frown.

‘He is free to do whatever he wants,’ she says, a safe mid-term.

‘Or whoever he wants.’

She closes her fists, wanting to punch something; most likely Sirius’ face, though she will settle for her pillow too.

‘Are you here for any reason or you just want to piss me, Black?’

‘Mentioning that James’ hands are all over Diggory’s bum would piss you?’

‘Ah, fuck off, Sirius,’ she says, not bothering anymore to pretend anything.

He laughs—a loud carefree sound that seems like a dog’s bark to warn that something is happening; in this case, that Lily Evans is making a fool of herself.

‘I will leave you alone—if you just admit it.’

‘Admit what?’

'Are we really playing this game, Evans? Let's not go through the five stages of Lily Evans' acceptance of her undying love for James Potter, shall we?'

Lily blinks, fighting not to splurge over her drink.

'I have no idea what you are talking about, Sirius.'

'Have it your way then. I just thought you should know, I was kidding. James' tongue is carefully kept inside his mouth.'

And he indicates the fireplace. Lily looks at it now and, sure enough, though James is still talking to Leanne, he is fairly apart from her, hands untouching, in a friendly stance.

When she looks back, Sirius is not there anymore, but wherever he is she knows he is smirking, that prat. Continue reading on AO3 :)

[violetsmoak]

Philtatos [4/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20101543/chapters/47615902

Blanket Disclaimer

Summary: During a patrol where Red Hood and Red Robin cross paths, Jason is infected with the blood of the Eros, the ancient God of Love, who informs them that they must track down his missing bow and arrows, or Jason will go slowly mad with an obsessive desire–for Tim. Though overwhelmed by the sudden attention being paid to him, Tim sets to work trying to solve the case, before Jason succumbs to madness. In the meantime, Jason discovers that there’s more than godlike powers at work here, as well as a legacy that reaches back through the sands of time.

Rating: PG-13 (rating may change later)

Beta Reader: None at the moment.

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #gods in disguise #secrets #shield #undying love

First Chapter

Author's Note(s): This one's a little less polished since my computer decided to eat half the chapter and I had to rewrite it in a hurry, but I'll fix it later.

________________________________________________________________

How does this even happen?

It’s tempting for Tim to let his head fall against the computer console in his frustration.

A week in, and nothing. No reports of random people wandering around with a bow and arrows, none of his underworld contacts have mentioned anything showing up at on the black-market or at illegal auctions. It’s as if Eros’ diviners have vanished into thin air.

That he’s frustrated is putting it lightly.

Adding to that is the fact he hasn’t seen or heard from Jason in the same amount of time. The other vigilante finally appears to have found the tracer Tim stuck on him and sent it on a trip to the Gotham City dump. It’s both a relief, because it means he’s acting like himself, and a disappointment, because it means he’s still resistant to Tim’s help.

Apparently when he asserted the Red Hood would eventually reach out to him, he underestimated the exact amount of stubborn that is Jason Todd. He’d come to Eros about something, as Tim discovered when checking his now blank security feeds; the Olympian wouldn’t say what, instead complaining about rude capes and the obstinacy of men.

Tim scowls at the dot pixel pattern of static where the footage of their meeting should be, trying to get his emotions under control. He’s annoyed, because Eros is annoying, but also because Jason managed to not only get into his apartment undetected, but down into the Nest.

Yes, he knows Jason is a lot smarter than he pretends to be, but it’s a dart to his pride because he thought he was being clever.

He’s also worried, since something upset Jason enough to come here in the first place. And he’s hurt because he’d chosen to speak to the winged appetite that compromised him to begin with instead of the one person trying to help him right now.

He waited until I wasn’t around to come here. And Eros won’t say what they talked about.

Mostly to be contrary.

As for the reports coming in from the authorities cleaning up after the Red Hood in the past few days, his take-downs are edging toward the worse side of brutal once again.

Something must be going on. If he’s being affected, though, wouldn’t he not have the interest to keep on with his usual activities?

It’s been an almost physical effort not to approach Jason once again, to plead with him to just accept help for once.

Versions of that plan have never worked for Bruce or Dick—or, well, any Bat, really—so Tim doubts it will work for him.

It’s why he now forces his focus back onto Eros’ case, as futile as it’s been. He knows he’s has more difficult cases, but this one feels like it’s intentionally trying to frustrate him in a way even the Riddler’s games never have.

You’d think people carrying around a bow and arrows would be pretty easy to find, but apparently not.

The Olympian is irritating, even as he answers Tim’s questions. His story hasn’t changed from when he first told it—a trip to Amsterdam that didn’t go as planned, and then a desperate hunt throughout all the cities where Tim tracked thefts.

So far, everything lines up with the investigation Tim was running before and offers no new information.

“Are your diviners like you?” Tim asks, considering the giant map on his computer screen; a red line drags across the Atlantic Ocean, connecting locations on the bordering continents. “I mean, will they not turn up on CCTV or other security devices?”

It would explain why he hasn’t found anything yet.

“Nah, that’s just me,” Eros tells him as he flips through a gossip rag. “I have to make the conscious decision to not show up on camera. It’s a strain on my abilities.” He sighs, putting down the magazine. “I used to be able to go completely invisible in the good old days. Back when people truly believed in us.”

“And now you just, what, mess with imaging frequencies?”

“Pfft—Glorified camouflage.”

“Considering government reliance on facial recognition software, you’re still able to ghost the system. That’s something.”

“Don’t patronize,” Eros grumbles. Then he tilts his head as something occurs to him. “Although, now that you mention it, they can change forms.”

Tim stills. “…What.”

“Yes, to make them less conspicuous. You don’t think I wander around with a bow and arrows all the time, do you? Outside of a Renaissance fair that sort of thing catches the wrong kind of attention—”

“Why the hell didn’t you say this before?” Tim hisses, fingers itching with conflicting impulses to tear at his hair or punch the Olympian in the face. Luckily for the well-being of all parties involved there’s a thick sheet of bulletproof glass between them.

“Uh, one, you didn’t ask. Two, I’m the only one who knows how to change their form, so I didn’t think it was an issue,” Eros replies, ticking options off his fingers.

Tim takes a deep breath through his nose and releases it. “If you want me to solve your case and get your property back, you have to tell me all the information. Even if it seems insignificant.”

“Well I know that now,” Eros huffs; at Tim’s continued unimpressed expression, he rolls his eyes stands up. “Fine! Mea culpa. What do you want to know?”

“What forms can your diviners take?”

“Since they were forged to be divine weapons, they have to conform to their purpose. So they can only be reshaped into other weapons.”

“Any weapon? Knives? Brass knuckles? Mace?”

“In theory?” Eros answers, and then looks curious. “Actually, that’s an interesting concept. I might try those out when I get them back.”

His attention span is possible worse than Bart’s.

“Focus—what form were they in when you were in Amsterdam?” There’s no footage of that, because apparently that café valued customer privacy over possible security issues.

“Well, I’d just finished watching a James Bond marathon, so I was inspired. I made them into these sweet, gold-plated .45 calibre revolvers. Single shot, custom-design, monogrammed.”

And another breath…

“Which you didn’t think to mention.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that important?”

“Yes, it was important! How am I supposed to help you find your diviners when you have me looking for a bow and arrows, and they’ve basically become the Golden Gun?!”

“Guns. Plural.” Eros corrects reasonably. “And you’re a detective. It’s what you do. I already said I don’t tell you how to do your job.”

Tim’s heard that love is blind; it turns out love is also an idiot.

With monumental effort, he lets it go; he’ll revisit the shape-changing weapons on his own time. There’s other information he needs. “Back to the theft, though—is there anyone you were with at the time, anyone who might have witnessed what happened?”

“I was with a lot of people that night. And it’s not like those people are going to a pot café to pay attention, if you know what I mean?”

“Not really.”

“Well, that’s not surprising. You don’t strike me as the fun one.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dig, “What about other Olympians?”

“What about them?”

“Could they have stolen it from you?”

“In theory, but I would have noticed. And then booked it in another direction.”

“You don’t get along with your family?”

“Do you?”

“It’s…complicated.”

“It always is.”

“What about your wife?”

Eros tenses, expression going unnaturally blank. “What?”

“I started doing a bit of research on you,” Tim explains, studying the sudden change in demeanour. “Just the basics. But the most popular story about you has to do with your wife, Psy—”

“Dead,” Eros cuts him off, abrupt.

“But I thought she became an immortal goddess?”

“How many times do I have to explain that the stories don’t get everything right?” Eros sneers. “She’s dead. Point final.”

The message in his voice and eyes is for Tim to drop it; even as his curiosity grows, filing the information into his mental dossier of the Olympian, Tim can recognize a painful topic.

He lets it go. For now.

“So, no one was around? The coffeeshop, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” Eros groans, body language easing out of it’s rigidity once more. He winds his fingers into his hair. “There was a pair of identical twins from Sweden that looked like walking Alps, and by the Styx did I want to climb those.”

“Gross.”

“And then there was the clingy redhead, the hot waiter with the manbun, one total MILF relieving her glory days—I don’t know, okay? There were a lot of people!”

Tim leans back in his chair, carding his fingers together. “What exactly is a god of love doing getting stoned in Amsterdam, anyhow?”

“Hey, I don’t judge your life choices.”

“I’m not judging, I’m just—curious. You’re not human, you can go wherever you want, do whatever you want, without being tracked—can probably influence people to get whatever you want. And you decide to gorge yourself on pot brownies in a glorified basement?”

“You might not understand this, but sometimes it’s nice to go somewhere and forget for a little while,” Eros drawls.

Actually, I get that more than you imagine…

“That’s unexpected,” Tim offers. “Considering who you are, you’d think you’d be happier."

"When has love ever been synonymous with happy?" Eros challenges. “You know that better than most, right?”

“I’m fine. I’m living with it.”

“Not talking about your walking Alp, darlin’. I mean the loss you’ve gone through.” The Olympian is studying him now. “I can see the scars left over from every person you let into your heart and who left you. The boy you loved, your parents, your best friends, your father figure…and it’s not just death I’m sensing. You’ve had things taken from you, things you loved more than anything, just wrenched away.”

“My entire life has burnt down! Again! I don’t call this ‘okay’, Dick.”

“You have to understand—”

“Oh, are you still here?”

“What Earth are we on that you choose him over me?”

Even after all this time, it hurts.

He is uncomfortable at the reminder of blacker times, some fresher in his mind than others. He still has moments when his mind is trapped back in the days after losing Robin, after his father’s death, when he gets stuck in those memories and can barely get out of bed. It’s like sleep paralysis, except he’s awake, and it usually takes Dick dropping by his place unannounced or Alfred phoning him to remind him not to miss upcoming family dinners, to get him out of it again.

To remind him it’s in the past and can’t hurt him anymore.

But now, this latest thing with Jason has more than just the potential to hurt, it’s practically a certainty. In fact, Tim wonders if Jason being cursed to desire him isn’t just the universe continuing its general theme of dumping on him.

“I don’t need a replay, I was there,” Tim says stiffly, and decides he needs a break from Eros for a little while. In about three hours he has to get up and go to work, something he’d rather skip, but the old guard on the Board of Directors is getting up to their usual bullshit and he can’t skip the meetings today.

The rest of the week continues in the same trying fashion. When he isn’t working the case, going through hours of footage from various airports, train stations and other checkpoints for a sign of someone carrying any weapons this time, he’s at WE fighting a bunch of old, fiscal conservatives trying to undercut employee wages. Neither initiative seems to be going anywhere.

On the sixth night since the warehouse fight, Tim is running on very little fuel, to the point his judgement is starting to waver. He’s weighing the pros and cons of checking in on Jason again. He thinks he could probably manage it without him noticing this time. But then, Eros is taking one of his rare (and much appreciated) food-coma naps, which means some valuable quiet time for him to think.

The main computer chooses that point to blink to life with a message from the Tower, and Tim’s stomach leaps with hope that Cassie has something for him.

Except it’s not her that grins down at him.

“Superboy? Where’s Cassie?”

His best friend makes a face. “Ouch, not even a ‘hello’?”

“Sorry, just a bit stressed,” Tim groans. Apparently his exhaustion has brought him past the point of basic etiquette. He needs another Red Bull. “Hi.”

“You sound so enthusiastic,” Connor deadpans. “Anyway, Cassie’s gone to see her Mom in Gateway City. She said she’d be back soon.”

Tim nods. That makes sense, considering Dr. Sandsmark’s knowledge of Ancient Greek artifacts and mythology; he feels stupid for not thinking to contact her before.

“Hey Rob!” Bart shoves his face into the frame. “When are you coming back?”

“Might be a little while. I got side-tracked with a case here that’s, uh, time sensitive.”

“Sucks.”

“While you’re here, can I get some of those bars of yours?”

He thinks Batburger is about to offer him and endorsement deal.

“Are you pulling another case where you’re too lazy to get up and eat? Dude, we talked about that.”

“Also, those bars are gross.”

“Of course they’re gross to you, you’re used to homemade Kansas awesomeness that fills you up if you just look at it.”

“They’re not for me,” Tim interrupts. “It’s for a…actually—” There’s no other way to see it. “He’s my prisoner.”

His friends look impressed.

“Damn, Rob, are you going Dark Side on us?”

“Ooh, do they have cookies?”

“Ha, hah. And even if I was, everyone else has already done it, I’m due. But no, the guy’s a glorified witness, with the metabolism like a Speedster.”

“So, hell on the grocery bills,” Connor says with a nod.

Tim’s comm buzzes, the line from his cellphone; against the backdrop of his mask, Cassie’s number pops up.

“Gimme a sec, incoming call,” he says, and patches into the line. “Hey—”

“Everything he said is true,” Cassie interrupts before he can finish the sentence. “Eros, I mean. People infected by his blood only get worse unless treated—think the Henry VIII, the Manson family, or John Hinckley Jr before they were cured.”

Tim recognizes all of those names. “Wait, but they all lived afterward.”

“They were the ones who got cured. Other’s haven’t been so lucky. Medea killed her own children and set her ex’s new girlfriend on fire.”

The blood rushes from his face. “What?”

“I mean, all those people had severe issues before they got infected, which might be a factor, but if your victim already has trouble controlling their emotions…”

Cassie trails off.

It’s like the bottom has dropped out of his stomach. “How long?”

“Two weeks, give or take. It depends on the mind frame of the victim.”

A very real, visceral fury spreads throughout Tim’s body, anger on Jason’s behalf and at the spoiled godling that’s watching all this unfold like it’s one of his TV dramas.

“…Thanks, Cassie,” he manages to croak. “Call you later.”

He hangs up.

“Are you okay?” Connor asks; on screen, his body becomes more tense in response to Tim’s expression.

“I have to go,” Tim replies, tipping his cowl over his head.

“Need help?” Bart asks. “You know we can be there in less than three hours if you do. Two if we’re really booking.”

Tim considers, then shakes his head. “I—we should be able to handle this.” Bruce is never happy when metas show up without his permission, even when they’re saving the collective asses of the Family. “But I’ll keep you posted. If there is anything, I’ll contact you right away.”

“Good luck,” Connor says, still concerned.

“Thanks,” Tim replies, ending the call.

I think I’m definitely going to need it.

⁂

The sun beats down on him from its zenith, and he can feel his arms burning. The air is hot and humid, carrying with it the taste of the sea he usually associates with the Mediterranean, yet he’s still sweating in his linen tunic.

In his hands—browner than he’s used to, scarred but in a different way than he expects—he carries a wreath of laurel leaves, woven together with fine gold thread. In front of him, a giant mound rises out of the earth, grass and wildflowers covering it, rippling lazily in the wind. At its base, a thick column of aged marble, already falling into disrepair.

He should see about having that fixed before they head for Sardis.

Jason takes a few steps forward, kneeling to place the wreath at the base of the column; despite the heat, a chill moves up his spine as he presses his hand to the earth, clutching a handful of dry soil and bringing it to his lips.

“It is my privilege to stand at the hall of your rest, Honored Forefather,” he murmurs. “And know that I will do your blood proud.”

The words are less flowery than anything the priests and governors might come up with, but the sentiment remains just as genuine.

Glancing to his right, he sees a similar column several yards away, and another man is kneeling there with his own wreath. It takes him a moment before he recognises him.

Tim.

Except—he’s different: his hair is longer, skin darker than Jason can ever remember seeing, because Tim is supposed to be a pasty-faced nerd. He’s also wearing a red tunic and lace up sandals, and his features are much more relaxed than Jason is used to. No dark circles beneath his closed eyes. He mouths words that are lost in the breeze.

Jason’s own gaze falls there for a moment, taking in the flushed colour of his lips. Something at the back of his mind chides him for looking, but it’s lost within a burgeoning warmth in his chest.

He’s lucky to have him here, someone as faithful and intelligent and honest—

Eyes blinking open, Tim notices him watching; his mouth tilts upward in amusement, and Jason’s heart seems to beat faster. The smaller man straightens up, leaving his offering behind him and wanders over, movements as smooth as a cat. And—

No, this isn’t a good idea, he’s supposed to be avoiding him, right? He can’t remember why, but—

“What are you thinking of?” Tim asks softly. “You’re supposed to be making sacrifices to your ancestor’s memory, not staring at your liegeman.” He adopts a severe expression. “It’s distracting me from being appropriately solemn.”

Jason shrugs, fond smile on his own face.

“He was happy, when he lived,” he says, nodding at the column where he knelt before. “And fortunate in finding a faithful companion, and a great poet to sing of his deeds after his death.”

“You say that as if you have neither,” Tim snorts.

“There are no more poets of merit to speak of my deeds. Everything is lost to the logical, pedantic record of history.”

“And there’s the sense of drama I was waiting for,” Tim deadpans. “You could always write the histories yourself.”

“Hah! You would say something like that. Always planning, aren’t you?”

“Well, someone has to.”

Jason rolls his eyes, and gestures with his hand that Tim should follow him. They amble down a grassy footpath, returning to the level ground where their horses wait for them. There are guards spread out around them, close enough to help if something should happen but far enough away, they can’t hear what’s said.

He approaches the massive black Thessalian, absently patting the ox-head brand on its haunch with one hand while his other reaches to detach a large cloth-wrapped package from his saddlebags.

Tim appears curious when Jason hands it to him.

“I made sacrifice at the temple this morning before we rode out and left them with one of my finest sets of armour,” he explains. “They insisted it was too much and that I should take something in return. This called to me.”

Tim opens the bundle, eyebrows raising at the bronze shield that gleams in the sun.

“It was found in the ruins of the great city herself after the battle. It made me think of you.”

“Oh?” Tim watches him from beneath hooded eyes, a delicate colour blooming across the bridge of his nose. “You think of me as a shield?”

“I think of you as my shield,” he corrects seriously. “I will always be a sword. I can’t be anything else, or others would see it as weakness. But you…you protect everything that I am, even from myself. You throw your own needs and wants to the dirt to raise up mine. You weather the anger of men who believe themselves to be greater. For my sake.”

Tim appears struck mute at this, clutching the shield to his body as he stares at Jason with shining eyes. His mouth parts several times, as if he’s trying to figure out what to say, and once again Jason’s gaze falls upon his lips.

Tim shoots a darting glance at the guards near them, and something like frustration passes across his features, mixing with calculation.

And then he’s grinning that sharp grin again, and Jason’s stomach flips pleasantly as it fixes on him. Tim sets the shield to one side with careful reverence and takes a step forward until their faces are within inches of one another.

Jason licks his lips, expectation weighing heavily on him, and waits for Tim to break the silence.

“I think we should run a race.”

Which...was not the response he was expecting. Jason blinks at the non sequitur. “What?”

“In the old style,” the younger man continues, setting the shield on the ground and backing away. He’s reaching for the belt of his tunic, eyes sparking with mischief and something else. “To honour our ancestors, of course.”

“Of course,” Jason agrees, and reaches for him, but Tim dances out of his way.

“Ah, no! You’re entirely to dressed for that.”

He’s jogging backwards now, and Jason laughs, reaching again for him, “Get back here—”

“You’ll have to catch me—”

“Hood!”

Jason gives a full-body jerk, dragged out of his reverie by a voice that is no longer laughing, but tense.

“Red Hood!”

The world returns to him, gritty and smelling like rancid trash and smoke. There are several bodies at his feet and the smell of blood in the air; he hears groaning, so he knows they’re alive. That should be a relief, somehow, except he’s distracted.

There’s someone standing in front of him, the height and build familiar, it could be him, except the eyes are wrong and he’s younger and—

Not him. Nothing like him.

For a beat Jason is irritated when he realises the person in front of him is not Tim, because he was sure he just heard him. On the heel of that annoyance is the realisation that he’s looming over a kid that can’t be more than a few years older than Damian, who’s staring at him with unbridled terror, pressing himself into the walls of the alley.

New kid on the corner. Johns were harassing him, so I taught them a lesson, but then…

Jason’s hand lingers in front of his face, inches away, fingers curved like they intend to brush the boy’s jawline.

Realisation hits at what he must look like, what the teenager must think, and it’s soon followed by disgust because he knows the motivation behind his current position. He pulls back, staring down at his hands in horror.

What the hell did I almost do?

“Hood, look at me,” Tim says, only it’s the Red Robin voice, growled from the shadows, and it sends a shiver up Jason’s spine.

He immediately turns to face him.

The nameless teen take off at a run, but that’s not important; what’s important is that Tim is here, barely three feet away. He moves to close the distance, posture open and soothing, and Jason is already relaxing in response, twitching to reach toward Tim’s outstretched hand.

And…no.

He should not be relaxing. He should not be reaching out or touching Tim in any way because—

Because…

It’s hard to think why, but then he remembers.

Because it’s not him who wants to, it’s the infection. And he might do something worse.

Jason’s entire body seizes up again, and he stumbles backward.

“Hood, it’s okay,” Tim says in a placating whisper. “I’m going to help you. I promise.”

And Jason wants to, he really does. Wants to just go with him, maybe let himself fall against his body in exhaustion, because Tim might be small but he’s strong and could hold him up and—

“Back off!” Jason snaps, both to himself and to Tim, who jerks as if he’s been slapped. The sight helps ground him a bit more. “You are the lastperson I should be around right now.”

“Ja—”

“No!”

He takes off. Doesn’t bother with shooting a line into the air—his hands are shaking too much for that—and just runs. He knows this place better than the other vigilante ever will, knows how to disappear even when being pursued by a Bat.

And right now, he needs to disappear.

Grotty buildings and dark alleys fly by him as he crashes through the backways.

This is better, just one foot in front of the other. The icy air in his lungs is painful, but the good kind—distracting. Waking him from whatever funk he was in.

What the hell was that before? A dream?

But he was awake. And since when are dreams, or even hallucinations, so cohesive? Sequential? He knows it happened like he was living it, though he can’t remember exactly anymore. The details are drifting away like sand grasped too tightly in a fist, but he remembers feelings. Warmth. Safety. Laughter.

And Tim smiling at him; everything else is hazy, but he remembers that detail without difficulty.

Jason’s stomach lurches, torn between something fond and possessive, and the sense of disgust crouching at the back of his mind and spreading through his body the more he thinks about it.

He has to stay away—from Tim, from anyone who looks like him. Just until he can figure out a fix (or hell, even afterward, just to be sure). No, wait, he can’t figure it out. It would involve investigation, chasing down leads, probably running into—

No. Better barricade himself in somewhere. Take himself out of the equation.

Tim will be fine to figure this out on his own—he said he was trying to help, which means he’s aware of what’s going on with Jason. Which, yes, is mortifying, but also a comfort, because he trusts the younger man to figure it out.

He wonders for a moment if that’s because of the growing fascination, and then decides it’s not. Even before, he’s had an inexplicable amount of faith in Tim’s abilities to plan and get results.

It’s why he wanted him to be his Robin.

Why he still wants—

“Damn it!” Jason growls, stopping for a moment to breathe and then to punch the nearest wall in frustration.

The comm in his ear buzzes to life.

“Red Hood?”

Not Tim, but Oracle.

“Tell me you found something,” he orders, trying to get his mounting panic under control.

“Not yet. I’ve got a lead that looks promising, but still waiting on confirmation,” Oracle replies. There’s a pause, and then when she speaks again, it’s without the voice synthesizer. “Tim told me what’s going on.”

Shame hits him. “Of course he did.”

“We want to help you, Jason. This isn’t something you have to go through on your own.”

“Tell me that the next time you get shot up with Olympian blood that makes you fixate on Huntress or Clayface or someone. I just need somewhere to ride this out—”

“I can think of somewhere that would be well-equipped.”

The Cave.

“No.”

“Now isn’t the time for your pride. If you really don’t want to hurt someone—to hurt Tim. Again. Your best bet is to get B’s help.”

The kicker is, Jason knows she’s right. And he’s off his game enough that all of his usual arguments and complaints and resentments just don’t seem to register. All that he can focus on right now is Tim—and wanting to do everything he can to stop obsessing over him.

To stop wanting him, wanting to touch and taste and—

“Damn it,” his says again, but this time it’s whispered, almost defeated.

Bruce is the only one Jason knows that will do anything in his power to stop him from becoming exactly the kind of monster he’s been fighting his whole life. Even if it means throwing him in Arkham until whatever is driving him insane gets fixed.

And even if it doesn’t…

He’ll lock me up and throw away the key to keep me from hurting Tim. And I’d let him.

“He’s enroute to you now,” Barbara says.

“Is the demon brat with him?”

“Yes.”

He remembers the terrified expression on the nameless teenager’s face as he reached out to him.

“Keep him away. I don’t…know what I might do.”

Barbara’s silence is heavy, and Jason feels a wave of disgust with himself rush over him.

“I’ve told B to send Robin to rendezvous with Red Robin,” she says, and it’s Oracle’s voice again. “He’ll be there in five minutes. Try not to bolt.”

It’s the longest five minutes of his life.

⁂⁂⁂

Next Chapter

[jamesmydeer]

HI HUNS! how are you? so I wanted to request (this is long,so feel free to say you are not going to do it or that you are going to change it) an imagine where Y/N has like something unofficial with james but he also starts something with lilly, so she thinks he would be happier with her. So Y/N does something to make james pick lilly and that results in them fighting and in y/n deciding to transfer to USA(but james was gonna pick her) then she comes back like a year later and she changes a bit

Secret Admirer x James Potter

this request automatically made me think of the movie secret admirer, which is the eightiest 80s movie there is, and I highly recommend it. fun fact: I hate this, but I haven’t posted in 5ever, so here you go

masterlist

“I need a hug”, a voice called from the end of your bed. Glancing up from your book, you saw James with a very tired expression on his face. You knew he had just returned from practice, and judging by the looks of it, it didn’t go too well.

“C’mere”, you said, opening your arms for him. He trudged over to your side of the bed and plopped down on top of you. He buried his face in your neck, humming as your hand massaged his scalp.

James Fleamont Potter had been your best friend for as long as you could remember. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact date when your crush on him took form, all you knew was that you were head over heels for him.

If things were different, maybe you would be together. If James didn’t like Lily, you probably would have told him about your undying love for the way he messes with his hair and looks down at his feet when he’s nervous. But, things weren’t different, and James was head over heels for Lily. To someone who didn’t know of your relationship, they would think you and James were a couple, but instead of “my girlfriend y/n”, you were “my friend y/n”.

Your were pulled away from your thoughts when lily walked into your shared dorm. James head shot up and he rolled off of you, his soft smile fading into a boyish smirk.

“Just the girl I was looking for”, he exclaimed happily. You could feel your stomach clench at the words. It was hard for you; him seeing you as a wing woman. The “Ask her this”, and “Tell her that”s got old after a while.

James got up and walked over to Lily, following her out of the dorm like a lost puppy. This had happened many times before, so you didn’t know why you were so upset. Something inside you snapped, and you realized you needed to do something to get your feelings out. You had seen something in a muggle film once where a girl would write anonymous letters to her crush to express her feelings. So, you did just the same. You sat down at your desk, and in a flourish of strokes, gushed love into words onto paper.

—————————————————————

The marauders were prepared for a weekend of absolutely nothing. They raided the kitchens and would successfully make it through the next couple of days without having to leave their dorm. To hide all the stolen food, James was given the task of bringing his bag he used for school. As they pulled all the food out of their bag, a letter fell out.

“What’s this?” asks Sirius, giving James a suggestive smirk.

“I don’t know, I haven’t opened it yet,” he answered, reaching for the letter. Sirius quickly pulled it away.

“Let’s see what’s inside, yeah boys?” Sirius asked, earning nods from the other two boys. Sirius ripped it open and scanned its contents, eyes growing large and jaw dropping. After finishing, he smirked and cleared his throat, before reading it again, aloud this time.

“Dear James, I don’t know how to tell you what I want to tell you… so I’m writing it down. I’ll never find the nerve to to give you this letter anyway. When I look at you, I can’t take my eyes off of you. I long to have your arms around me and your body against mine.”

Sirius stopped so Remus and Peter could throw in their “oh my God”s.

“I know you don’t feel like I do, which is why I don’t have the courage to sign this. But I just love you more than words can say. xx” Sirius paused for the last time to throw in a quick kissing noise before the last x.

“James, who wrote this?” Peter asked, holding back his laugh.

“I haven’t even seen the letter yet, you gits,” James declared, snactching the letter from Sirius and looking over it a couple of times.

“I know exactly who he wants it to be.”

“There’s no way Lily wrote this. She’s made it pretty obvious that we’re just friends, if that,” James sighed. He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but Remus telling him that it looked like her handwriting and Sirius saying she was staring at him during breakfast sure did.

—————————————————————

“I’m so stupid. What did I think was going to happen? I can’t believe I said those thing to Lily Evans,” James said, lying next to you in the grass by the black lake.

“I mean, why didn’t I just walk straight up to her and say ‘Hey, Lily, I’m an asshole’?”

“Well I think she knows,” you joked, turning to smile up at him. Your smile faded when he shot you an unamused look.

“Fucking Sirius. Merlin, how could I believe that oaf. Telling me that Lily Evans wrote me a letter. I bet it was Remus. I’m gonna kick his ass.” James wasn’t talking to you so much as he was to himself.

“And what did this letter say?” you asked, knowing all of the letter’s contents by heart.

“Everything I said to Lily”

“It sounded pretty good to me,” you, unbeknownst to him, bragged.

“It wasn’t just good, it’s was great. It was the best thing I’ve ever read. It was like Tender is The Night or The Way We Are. Remus is dead meat.” Your heart swelled at the words. You wondered if he would still think the same of the letter if he knew who it was from. As you thought this, you realized how uncomfortable your head felt against the hard ground.

“You know, this isn’t really that comfortable,” you stated, fidgeting around.

“Oh, here,” James muttered, moving his arm under your head. You scooted closer to him, cheeks heating up.

“Y’know, maybe the letters real. Maybe somebody really is in love with you.”

“I just wish I knew why I loved her so much. She’s just so beautiful.” Every word he said drove the knife deeper and deeper into you.

“Why don’t you just tell her what happened? That you were drunk and didn’t mean anything.”

“Yeah, yeah. After tonight?” James didn’t sound too fond of that idea.

“You know, you could always write her a letter,” you regretted the words as soon as they left your mouth.

“You know I hate writing. Besides, she’d just tear it up.”

“Not if she didn’t know who it was from.”

“What do you mean?” James asked, confused.

“Don’t sign it. Just have someone else give it to her. That way, if she doesn’t like it, she won’t know who wrote it.”

You sat in silence for a while. Maybe James wouldn’t write lily a letter and the situation would stop where it started. For some reason, your head was screaming at you that it was time to tell him. Not that you liked him, but your plans for next year.

“James, I’ve been meaning to tell you this for a while, but I’ll be spending next year in America. I’m leaving in about two weeks. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier, it’s just-“

James’ face suddenly lit up.

“You could give it to her! I’m sorry for interrupting, what were you saying?”

There it was.

“Nothing. Yeah, I’ll give it to her.”

“You’re a really good friend,” James said, leaning in to kiss your cheek. His lips lingered there for a second. He gave you a soft smile and ran off towards the castle to write his letter. “Ouch” you whispered, watching his figure slowly shrink. Friend. That’s all you were. And for the next year you spent on a different continent, that’s all you would be.

—————————————————————

You woke up the next day to a very giddy boy shaking you.

“I did it. I wrote the letter,” he stated, thrusting it into your face.

You smiled weakly at him.

“I’ll give it to her at the end of the day so you have time to regret your decision.”

He stuck his tongue out at you and turned towards the door.

“Lily Potter. Sounds quite nice, huh?”

“Get out of my room, James.”

With that, he chuckled and shut the door back. Your mind stayed on the letter all day. You wanted so badly to read what it said. Partly so you could know what he would’ve wrote to you, partly so you could see how cheesy it was. When you got in from dinner and noticed that no one was back yet, you opened it. It was exactly how you expected it to be. It sounded like he wrote down the first sentence on every romantic greeting card. You couldn’t let him give that to Lily. You loved James, and you wanted him to be happy. He would be happy if Lily genuinely liked the letter. So, you rewrote it.

—————————————————————

“Y/n! There she is. Looking ravishing as ever,” Sirius exclaimed. He ran up to you holding you at arms distance. He eyed you up for a second, then pulled you into a tight hug. When he pulled away you looked over his shoulder. Sirius, Peter, Remus… no James.

Sirius could tell exactly what you were thinking. “You know, I don’t get how you could do that to yourself. Sacrifice your happiness for his, I mean. He’s with Lily right now.”

Remus had walked up behind you while Sirius was talking.

“We told him it was important, but he said you would tell him later,” Remus explained, placing a hand on your shoulder. You couldn’t tell him later.

“It’s fine,” you said, shrugging his hand off of you and smiling at him. “Let’s go sit with Peter before he dies if boredom.”

Peter was the first to notice the brochure in your hand. He must’ve known that it had something to do with the “important thing” you had to tell them. When you sat down, he nodded towards it suggestively. You took a deep breath and opened your mouth to start talking, only to shut it and momentarily close your eyes.

“I’ll be right back,” you said, jumping up and running to the bathroom. You locked yourself in a stall and contemplated how you were going to do this. You had no idea how your were going to tell them. You had tried telling James as soon as you found out, but he didn’t seem to be listening.

You came back and sat down, the boys giving you worried looks.

“I’m not going to be able to say this twice, so please listen until the end, yeah?”

They all nodded, the worried looks on their faces never fading.

“My mom sent me this brochure about 2 months ago.” You set the brouchure on the table. “It’s for a year of study in America. It would really put me in a good situation resume wise. I could write about my trip and have it published; Dumbledore already said there’s no question about it. I’ve tried telling you guys so many times, but I couldn’t. Now that I leave in 2 days, I kinda have no choice.”

They stared at you for what felt like forever. Sirius was the first to stand up. You thought he was going to walk out and never speak to you again. The rest of the boys followed suit. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you stood up to run after them, only they didn’t leave. They engulfed you in the biggest hug. They told you they would miss you more than anything, but they would write every day. They would visit you on holidays. They would be here waiting for you when you got back. They hugged you in the middle of the three broomsticks, crying with you and telling you that it would be alright.

“ Promise me you won’t tell James when I’m leaving. I want to do that myself,” you begged, to which they agreed. You weren’t going to tell James. It would be too hard. But they didn’t need to know that.

—————————————————————

While you were sitting at home, packing your bags, James and Lily were not working out. James had quickly decided that Lily wasn’t who he thought she was, and Lily decided that James was still, well, James.

“You know, for some odd reason, I thought that just because you could formulate words and make them sound poetic, you were a different person than I thought. I was wrong,” Lily said, thrusting the letter into his chest. He took and stared at it. He was going to say something back, but he noticed something off about the letter.

“I didn’t write this.” He said, causing Lily to throw him an incredulous look.

“You’re really something else, you know that Potter?”

“This isn’t the letter I wrote you Lily. I didn’t write this. Where’s the letter I wr-“ before he could finish talking, Lily scoffed and walked away. James glanced at the letter again, and noticed something else. He raced up the stairs to his dormitory, and fumbled through the drawers. He pulled out the letter he had received. The only other person who had seen the letter he had written was you. The handwriting on both the letters he held was the same. It was you. You wrote the letters. James didn’t like Lily. James loved you. It had always been you, why had he never noticed that it had always been you? The rest of the marauders walked in to find a troubled looking Prongs.

“Why didn’t any of you guys tell me I was in love with y/n? Where is she? I have to tell her right now.”

“James, sit down.” Sirius said, ready to tell him where you were, and where you would be until this time next year.

“We can talk later, I have to find y/n!”

“James. Sit. Down.”

James sat on his bed and tapped his foot impatiently. Sirius opened his mouth and James couldn’t believe the words that came out. He knew about this. The night by the lake. You were spending a year abroad. You were leaving in 2 weeks. It’s had been 2 weeks.

“Shit! Where is she now?” James asked frantically jumping up and running to put a shirt on.

“Probably already at the boarding dock. Mate, if you wanna make it, you better hustle,” Remus informed him. James threw a “thanks” over his shoulder and ran out the door. Once he made it to hogsmeade he apparated to where Remus said you would be. He spotted your parents’ car, but no one inside. He heard what sounded like a bunch of “goodbyes” being yelled, and took off running.

He could see your ship. He could see you. You were already on your way to America. He was jumping boxes and ducking under ropes to get to a place where you could see him. He climbed on top of two large crates and yelled your name.

“Y/N! Wait! Hey! I know you wrote the letters!” He yelled, trying to get your attention.

“James, what?” You yelled back, very confused.

“The letters! I know you wrote ‘em! Don’t leave me I love you!”

“What?” you asked, shocked.

“I love you! Do you love me?”

“What difference does it make?” you asked, wondering what this was going to lead to.

“But do you love me?”

“Yes! Does that make you feel any better?”

“Yeah!” James screamed back at the top of his lungs, looking down at the water before him, and jumping into it. Once he reached the surface he started swimming towards your ship, the biggest smile on his face. He kept muttering “come on y/n” as if saying that would make you jump. You contemplated what to do. The only reason you were so sure that you wanted to go to America was to get away from James. You wanted to stay. You wanted to be with him. You didn’t want to go to America at all. You looked around at everyone watching you and turned back to the water. James was standing in the shallow water impatiently with a worried look on his face. You took a deep breath and jumped into the water. You swam towards James, who, regardless of him having swam further towards you, could still stand.

“I love you so much. I’m so sorry. I love you and I-“ You cut him off by smashing your lips against his. After the shock of you being in front of him and kissing him went away, he kissed you back. His hands went to cradle your face and yours went to run through his hair.

You didn’t know how you were going to tell your parents about this, or how you were going to get your luggage back. All you knew was that you were with James, and being with James was all that you needed. You let him hold you in the water, forheads pressing together, until the ship was far out of sight.

“I love you, but I’m getting really cold and I can’t touch right here.” you said, causing James to chuckle and apparate you back to hogsmeade. It may have taken him six years to figure it out, but he did love you too. A lot.

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Young!Remus Lupin x Female Reader: Marauder Invasion (Night Intruder, Part 2)

A/N: Un-fucking-believable, pardon my french. I’m sorry to sound like a broken record, but I just want to take a second to thank each and every one of you for the time you’ve accorded to this reader insert, it honestly means the world to me. The support you’ve shown came completely unexpected and I honestly hope that you guys are going to like what follows! The third part is probably going to be out before the end of the week, if you would still want to read what I have all mapped out in my head, that is lol

WARNINGS: Marauder squad (a very legit warning if you think about it), a LOT of swear words and my hideous English - the usual. New to the series? Accio first part! P.S. This gif made by talented @potter-imagines-here is this part summed up. I couldn’t resist :)  As always, I hope you enjoy, lads xo

Sitting in the Grand Hall, you tried desperately to focus on the Transfiguration essay you had finished writing yesterday, proof-reading it. Both Lily and Marlene kept silent, their interest in cinnamon-sprinkled porridge phenomenal. 

When you finally abandoned any attempt to fall asleep at around six in the morning, you lay in your bed struggling to keep your mind from wandering towards a certain Gryffindor Scarface, whom you once considered your best friend. As you kept rereading the same line in your Herbology textbook an hour later, sitting cross-legged on your pillows, you heard Lily’s worried ramble, as she grabbed your shoulders, still half asleep, her piercing green eyes studying your face.

“Y/N, are you hurt?!”

“What?” you furrowed your eyebrows, looking at your friend as if she’d gone mental.

“Your face…” Lily said, confused, not noticing any visible scratches.

“Oh!” it finally dawned on you as you jumped off your bed, leaving Lily behind. “It’s nothing, it’s just…”

“You didn’t kill that poor guy last night, did you?” Marlene asked, disappointed, awoken by all the commotion.

“No, I…” your brain was running at the speed of sound, trying to come up with a legit excuse for the blood smudged all over your face. The fact that you couldn’t invent anything that very instant was maddening you even more – you were sick of lying for Remus. “I guess I cut my palm and the blood ended up all over my face… You know how agitated my sleep gets, so…” Lie number 10005000697.

From the looks on girls’ faces they didn’t buy it, nor did they ask any more questions ever since, not even regarding last night’s visit. As a matter of fact, they refused to talk to you, point blank. And you were perfectly fine with that – if someone would make you lie on Remus Lupin’s behalf one more fucking time, you were going to kill your now least favorite werewolf in the world.

When you were about to pack your things and head for your Potions class, you felt the bench you were sitting on tremble, as masculine voices echoed all around you.

“Marlene, Lils,” you barely found the strength to crush a groan in your throat before you could let it out. “Do you mind if we steal Y/N here for a couple of minutes?” the infamous Gryffindor Chaser, James Potter, placed a chaste kiss on top of Lily’s head, standing across the table from you, his eyes fixed firmly on yours.

“Make it fifteen,” you turned your head to your right just to meet Sirius Black’s resting smug face. This boy had so much swagger you internally wished he’d choke on it one day.

“It’s important,” a small voice to your left added and you didn’t have to turn around to know that Peter Pettigrew was sitting there.

What is this, a fucking Marauder Invasion? you thought, grabbing your essay and standing up in an attempt to flee.

Before you could make as much as a step away from the trio, both Sirius and Peter placed their hands on your shoulders, making you sit back down.

“On a different note,” you heard Sirius speak sweetly. “We can talk here.”

You turned his way and honestly contemplated whether you should silently hex him. Noticing your glare, Sirius did justice to his name for once, his smile quickly fading. Moony had probably told him all about your non-verbal ways of performing spells.

“It’s okay,” you snapped your head back only to see both Lily and Marlene standing up. “You can stay here. We have finished eating anyway”.

You tried to catch Lily’s eye, silently begging her to stay, but she only muttered ‘see you’ and both girls disappeared from the Great Hall so fast as if they learned how to apparate. You followed them with your narrowed eyes, unbelieving. You could bet a galleon both Lily and Marlene knew what was going on, thanks to Potter and his sidekicks.

“So, Y/N”, James took Lily’s seat right in front of you, studying you face. You stared back at him, daring him to continue. You were never close with James or any other of the Marauder squad except for Remus. In fact, you were positive the legendary marauders were scared of you shitless. “I bet you know what we came here to talk to you about”.

You rolled your eyes, masterfully hiding the expression of utter surprise behind it. What did Remus tell them? Why in the world would they come to plead his case considering they didn’t even know you?

“We think you might have misunderstood Moony last night”, Peter let out, letting go of your shoulder.

You directed your glance at him with a burning desire to facepalm. This was just plain stupid. You couldn’t believe Remus would talk his friends into having this conversation with you.

“Oh I understood him alright,” you assured them, your gaze travelling from one marauder to another. “And even though I have no fucking idea what you four fuckboys were up to last night, I think it’s only fair that Remus should come banging on my door himself to justify that shitty stunt he pulled! I am so done playing Madame Pomfrey with that jerk seeing that he has his head so far up his ass that he just wouldn’t see how my heart can’t take seeing him bleed anymore!”

It took a minute for the meaning of your words to settle in. When you realized you might have just confessed your undying love to a certain werewolf in front of the three closest people Remus had – after you, of course – strangely, you couldn’t bring yourself to give a flying fuck. Last night and this whole consequent mess had started to finally have its toll on you, and a part of you was glad that your naked feelings were now out in the relative open.

“I will just pretend I didn’t hear ‘the fuckboys’ part, because the rest of it is brilliant”, Sirius finally spoke, making you turn his way. “I know we have never been that close, Y/N, but I have it on a good authority that you are a girl to die for, you get what I mean?” you raised your brows at him in confusion.

“We weren’t with Remus last night, Y/N”, James informed you in a low voice. “That idiot got himself in a double duel with Gerard Crabbe and Lucius Malfoy when he heard what these two trolls were saying behind your back… And he didn’t even invite us.”

Your breath hitched as you felt the drops of cold sweat roll down your back. Oh Merlin, he couldn’t have…

“When he went out of the dorm yesterday he told us he had a date in the Astronomy Tower”, Peter picked up where James had left off. “Of course we automatically assumed that he had finally grown a pair and was going to tell you how he felt about you. Sirius and James wanted to follow him, but I talked them both out of it, privacy and all… I wished I didn’t though’, Peter added, his voice small and sad.

“Oh My Godric,” you subconsciously covered your mouth with a palm of your hand, the scene from last night playing over and over in your head.

“…So when he came back at night all three of us were already asleep, it wasn’t until this morning that he told us what had actually happened. We spent two hours searching for this,” Sirius produced Rem’s wand out of his robes, as your best friends’ voice resonated in your ears:

I don’t have it… I lost it when I fell…

“Is this all some kind of an attempt to redeem Remus in my eyes? Please tell me it is!” you urged all three of them, imagining all too-well Remus standing up for you after Lucius and Gerard called you a mudblood behind your back and getting himself a double duel rendez-vous. Actually, that sounded exactly like what Moony would do. Remus John Lupin, always a gentleman.

“No,” all three Marauders showed no mercy, shaking their heads negatively.

“Moony doesn’t even know we’re here talking to you”, James added, his eyes darting around warily. Somehow you got a feeling that if Remus had known, the remaining three marauders would have ended up running from his hexes faster than Snivellus from shampoo.

You felt blood boil in your veins as a wave of anger consumed you.

“What a stupid moron! I bet that Malfoy bitch insulted me on purpose… What kind of idiot would fall for that?” you felt your face redden against your will and you smashed both of your hands on the table surface, making a couple of heads turn in your direction.

“A head-over-heels-in-love idiot, I’d say”, Sirius winked at you.

You closed your eyes for a second, regaining composure, trying to prevent your heart from jumping out of your ribcage. Remus, your best friend, was in love with you. And you told him yesterday that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Still, some things didn’t add up. He must have noticed how much you cared for his sorry ass. Why didn’t he tell you he cared for you too, or at least didn’t kiss you senseless, instead of walking away every time the atmosphere in the room got heated?

“Okay, you three, listen to me,” you opened your eyes abruptly, eyeing all three of them. “This changes nothing. Don’t expect me to wear a Marauders T-shirt now that you’ve helped me learn what has really happened. I still disapprove of your ways of having fun.”

Just when Sirius was about to open his mouth to protest, obviously willing to tell you more about all those ways in which you two could have fun, James shut him up with a very telltale look.

“And If you tell Moony I love him before I do, I will skin you alive, is that clear?” you finished, pretending not to notice their antics.

Your message was definitely received. Peter nodded frantically, moving a couple of inches away from you. James threw both of his hands in the air, his expression dead-serious.

“Clear as vodka”, Sirius swallowed hard, a mix of fear and admiration almost tangible in his voice.

The sound of the school bell reached your ears.

“Alrighty then,” James seemed way too happy at this beginning of the school day announcement. “See ya around then, Y/N?”

Not waiting for your answer, the three marauders rushed out of the Great Hall, never before had been so keen on making it to their Potions class on time.

As expected, Remus never showed. Considering that his broken hand was the last to be healed, you thought you might have done a next to shitty job on it. Your mind fixed on how bad Remus was having it that very instant, you completely fell out of the class discussion. When Slughorn asked you something about a poison antidote, you didn’t have a slightest idea what the conversation was all about.

“You just made your House lose ten points, Mrs Y/L/N,” all the Gryffindors groaned silently. “And earned yourself a three hour detention. Maybe next time you’ll honor my lectures by paying your undivided attention to what I’m saying”.

The day passed in a blur. Every single time you wanted to go see Remus in the boys’ dorm, fate seemed to be against it. Professor McGonagall asked you to help her out with the preparations for tomorrow’s class right before lunch, so you missed the meal entirely, rushing to the DADA class and still not making it on time, but luckily, getting away with a warning.  

When at 8 p.m. you finally made it back to the dungeons to complete your detention, you were a nervous, tired mess. Scrubbing what seemed like century old cauldrons clean, you somehow managed to fall asleep, exhausted from last night and a really bad day you were having. When you stirred awake, one of your hands buried inside an exceptionally disgusting cauldron, professor Slughorn came in, saying he’d accompany you, seeing it was well past 10 p.m.

When you stumbled through the hole behind the Fat Lady’s portrait, struggling to keep your eyes open, you tried to stop yourself from nurturing a tiny hope living in your chest that Remus would be waiting for you in the Common Room, as usual. You heart still fell once you spotted no one in the dimly lit chambers – crushing a sigh in its wake, you slowly made your way up, to the room you shared with Lily and Marlene.

The talk you ached to have with Remus was going to have to wait.

My first ever and oh-so special tag: @zakthedrak 

[mxlfoydraco]

Hi!! Did you do your Jeddy fic recs ? Thanks xxx

I’d totally forgotten so kudos for the reminder! There you go, don’t forget to leave the authors some love,

What I’m Waiting to Find by @gracerene09 (27k)James has devoted the past two years to being the best damn Chaser that Puddlemere United has ever seen…and to getting over his teenage crush on Teddy. But when Teddy comes back to England after a long stint abroad, James’s resolve to move on is put to the test. [Companion pieces Waiting (For You) and Midnight, part of the Are You Mine? series]

The Hidden Side by @gracerene09 (38k)Twenty years ago today, James Sirius Potter was born into this world. Four years, two months, and six days later, somebody took him.

A Small Spark Neglected by gyzym (23k)Someone’s setting fires in Wizarding London, and Teddy Lupin’s going to have to marry a Potter.

The Rules Of Being A Godson by copperbadge (12k)Teddy Lupin never gets too close or feels too much; his godfather’s son never does anything else.

Here Now, Gone Yesterday (or Back To The Future) by nerakrose (21k)Teddy and James are in the middle of breaking up when Remus and Sirius - teenaged, travellers from the past - drop into their life.

“Cool Dad” Harry Potter? (By the Daily Prophet’s Gossip Correspondent, Rita Skeeter) by WrittenSins (2k)Rita Skeeter covers the 2022 Quidditch World Cup.

Betrayal is a Thorny Crown (You Wear It Well) by Snegurochka (8k)Five years after taking his fifteen-year-old godbrother’s virginity, Teddy has done everything he can to avoid James. He is definitely not supposed to look this good when Teddy finally runs into him again, but Teddy is pretty sure the kid will never forgive him for disappearing like that.

Struck by gryffindorJ (12k)Sometimes you don’t see what’s right in front of your face until you catch it in just the right light.

what seventeen means by sepia_cigarettes (5k)Seventeen means a lot of things for James. There’s his Apparition licence for a start, and then there’s his new height, and then there’s Teddy’s return from Oceania. That one is definitely the best, but Dominique can go screw herself if she thinks that James is going to confess his undying love any time soon.

Sweet Sixteen by grim_lupine (2k)Sixteen hits James like the Hogwarts Express, a growth spurt the likes of which he’s been dreaming of for years, legs long enough to trip him up when he forgets how different they are now.Legs long enough that it takes Teddy a good twelve seconds to look James all the way up, all the way down, when he comes back home from his six-month-long trip to France. James counts them off in his head, skin prickling, mouth dry.

Coming Out Ahead by mindabbles (9k)James and Scorpius need a big break. Albus needs Scorpius. Teddy wants James. Perhaps they’ll all learn that you can’t always get everything you want, but maybe if you’re lucky, you can get some of what you need.

Friday Nights at the Leaky Cauldron by AmoretteHD (10k)When James shows up at the Leaky Cauldron looking for a job, Teddy tries to show him it’s bloody hard work running a pub. But he doesn’t expect James to be a natural at it, and he doesn’t realize James will attract all kinds of attention. And this presents a problem for Teddy; a huge problem.

Hey There Little Red Riding Hood by @blithelybonny (7k)James Sirius has a secret thing for werewolves, okay? I mean, who doesn’t…

Our Cracking Bones Make Noise by snarkyscorp (28k)After the death of his sister, James is out of control. As his family’s last resort, Charlie offers to give James a spot on his dragon reserve in Germany, where Teddy will take him under his wing. There, James is forced not only to confront larger-than-life dragons in ways he never imagined but to deal with the loss of his sister and come to terms with his sexuality in ways that will ultimately help him heal and change his life forever.

It’s not me, it’s you (I’m in love) by nerakrose (4k)James is stupidly, madly in love. Teddy is looking for love in the wrong places.

Lost For You by gryffindorJ (2k)They’re supposed to be messing around, nothing else, but Teddy’s in love with James.At The End of The Rope by @shiftylinguini (35k)Everyone presents in the springtime of their fifteenth year, and no one was more excited about this than James ― or more disappointed when it didn’t happen. But that’s okay, at twenty-two he’s now made peace with being an Absent Presentation, and with his conviction that no one in their right mind would want to be with or claim someone like him, least of all the person he really wants. He’s got his work and his right hand, and even if he sometimes thinks about what it would be like to be honest with Teddy about how he feels, he knows he couldn’t bear the rejection ― at least, that’s what he tells himself when he can’t get to sleep at night.But all that is tested after a run-in with an overzealous admirer and a routine Auror call-out gone drastically wrong. As James is left now presenting in full as an Omega, and bound to stay in Teddy’s presence, the careful balancing act he’s built his life around grows more precarious by the second.

Those Who Wait by @shiftylinguini (14k)Good things come to those who wait. Luckily for James, good things also come to those who are terrible at waiting, and who instead sulk dramatically and go to sleep in a huff. Teddy is in no position to judge him, however, being the one who made the ‘no-sex-‘til-your-eighteenth-birthday-sweetheart’ rule in the first place ― and then, of course, went and got sent on assignment that weekend, instead of making good on what he’d promised James. But now… Well, nothing’s stopping him from making good on it now.

Quiet by gryffindorJ (32k)Fresh out of Auror Training James is assigned his first partner, Teddy. The fact that he finds Teddy a little intimidating isn’t bad enough, James also has old unrequited feelings for him. And that means things could only get worse when the Wizarding World is struck by an-unknown curse.The Way He Looks by Writcraft (11k)His dad’s having a midlife crisis, he hates the job he doesn’t even have yet and he’s somehow managed to accidentally bond himself to the best mate he’s secretly in love with. Surely growing up shouldn’t be this difficult?

Blue is the Warmest Colour by Writcraft (8k)James has fancied Teddy for as long as he can remember, but Teddy isn’t ready to settle down. James goes on a journey of self-discovery as he negotiates the pleasure and pain of first love, coming to terms with his parents’ separation and the struggle to come out to his dad.Muckraker by gryffindorJ (9k)After a preview of James’ latest article appears The Daily Prophet Teddy is aware that his squad of elite Aurors was secretly infiltrated by James. To make matters worse the preview foreshadows a less than flattering article. Teddy has to find out how James got this information before the article goes to print. Not Teddy’s idea of a good time because things between him and James have been less than congenial since they broke up.

Dirty Little Secret by iamisaac (6k)Teddy and James’s relationship has been a secret for two long years, and it’s best kept that way, at least in Teddy’s opinion. But sometimes, you don’t get the choice…

Say That We’ll Be Together by @gracerene09 (2k)James lives for Hogsmeade weekends.

Green Falls by hollys_tree (11k)It sounds like the easiest assignment ever: Teddy has to file a report about a nature reserve in Wales. But when James Potter becomes his partner for the week, it creates a whole new set of problems.

Lunacy by @shiftylinguini (18k)Teddy was born a werewolf. James gets bitten later in life (not by Teddy) and Teddy is there to help him through his first heat. [Prequel Red Light, Yellow Light, Green]

It’s a Big, Gay World Out There by thenewlondoner (13k)When James comes out, Teddy takes him out. Not like that, though. Really.

Room 43 by gryffindorJ (5k)Everyone wants James but James only wants Teddy. There’s one small problem. (Teddy would say the problem isn’t small at all. But now I’ve gone and made it sound like Teddy has a small dick. I assure you that’s not the problem but that doesn’t make it any better.)

[theraredreamer]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Fic: I Am My Brother’s Keeper (Part 2 of 4)

By: @rarity-kasket

2.9k words, rated G

Being the son of Harry Potter isn’t easy and being the brother of James Sirius “Golden Boy” Potter doesn’t make it any better. However, as obnoxious as his brother can be, Albus wouldn’t trade him for the world. When Albus accidentally stumbles upon a secret, it threatens to break apart his already complicated and messy relationship with James.

Again, special thanks to @abradystrix and @autumn-of-ilvermorny being amazing human beings! 

Please click for Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Winter of 2019

“Al!”

Albus groans inwardly. James calling after him is the last thing that Albus wants to hear right now. He doesn't look back, but instead, he quickens his pace down the corridor.  

“Hey, wait up!”

The sound of James’s footsteps picks up in rhythm with his own. When Albus decides to break into a sprint, a hand reaches out to grab him by the sleeve of his robe.

“Why the rush--woah, what happened to your eye, Al?” James exclaims as he studies Albus's darkened left eye.

“It’s Albus, and it's nothing.” Albus shrugs it off dismissively. “Now, if you would excuse me, I am very busy.”

“Yes, I’m very sure,” James says skeptically before his eyes study the bruise. He frowns, and his gaze makes Albus uncomfortable. “That looks like it hurts. You should get that checked out. Come on, let me walk you down to Madam Pomfrey.”  James reaches out to touch the soft bruise under Albus’s left eye before his brother flinches away, narrowing his emerald eyes into a distrustful glare.

“Don’t.” Albus snarls. James stares back at him, hurt.

“Albus, come on. At least, tell me who did this to you. Maybe I could--”

“I don’t need you defending my honor.”

“Merlin’s beard don't be so bloody stubborn! I’m trying to help.” James says exasperatedly.

“What? You suddenly care what happens to me now?” Albus laughs bitterly. “Golden Boy Potter doing his one good deed of the day--”

“Albus--”

“-by gracing the black sheep of the Potter Legacy with his presence. What did I ever do to deserve this?” Albus rails sarcastically.

“I’m just trying--”

Albus doesn’t let James get another word in.

“What do you want a gold medal? A pat on the back? A gold star? “ He replies nastily as he measures James with a dark and disdainful glare. “Please, the only thing you care about is yourself.”

James reels back in disbelief as if Albus has struck him across the face.

In that moment, it couldn’t be more obvious how far the two brothers have drifted apart.

“You can be really cruel sometimes,” James confesses.

“ Just because you’re miserable doesn’t mean that you have to make everyone else around you miserable.“ James spits out before taking a few steps back. He turns away from Albus, and something seething and hot flares inside Albus.

“I’ve been getting by for three years without you. Don’t pretend that you care now.” Albus sneers, and he feels some sick and twisted satisfaction when he sees James flinch at the words before leaving Albus alone in the empty corridor.

The Present, Spring of 2025

As soon as the door swings open, Albus instantly regrets this decision to beg James for help. Is he really this desperate?

Upon seeing his brother, James grins, leaning coolly against the doorframe with his arms folded over his chest.

“I can only assume that you’re here to finally admit your undying love for Scorpius Malfoy.”

Albus’s cheeks burn as he quickly breezes past James.

“Ha, funny. ” Albus replies drily before standing in James’s living room, scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“I guess you were right. Uh--that I need your help. Not the undying love part.” Albus adds quickly, and James cocks his head in mild amusement.

“I never thought I would see the day that Albus Severus Potter would actually come crawling to me for help.”

“I know it's hard not to be an obnoxious prick every five minutes, but could at least you try?”

“I’m sorry. This moment is too beautiful.”

Albus sighs at  James’s infuriating grin.

“You know what, this is pointless.” Why did he even think coming to James would be a good idea? Albus crosses over to the door, but James easily catches him by the collar of his shirt.

“Relax, it was a joke. Let me help. I want to help. ” James claps his hands together and bats those dark lashes at Albus pleadingly. It’s the picture of innocence.

Honestly, this only makes Albus even more distrustful.

“You really want to help me?” Albus raises a skeptical eyebrow.

“Seriously. Sit, make yourself comfortable.” James gestures to the sofa. “Did you come from class?”

“Yeah, uh, an introduction to psychology course. I have another class later.”  Albus says as he drops his backpack and notebook down on the sofa.  James wrinkles his nose at this.

“What do you plan to do after you graduate?” James asks curiously.

Albus shrugs. He hasn’t decided yet, despite the fact that he was quickly approaching the end of the year. However, there is this one particular class…

Introduction to Acting.

It was originally a course to fill an elective. He never actually expected to enjoy it so much. However, there is something cathartic about slipping away from reality for even a few moments, stepping into someone else’s world and seeing life in a completely new light. With a script in his hands, Albus slips away, and he is transformed into whatever he needs to be.

Currently, his lecturer is attempting to persuade Albus into auditioning for their fall production of Hamlet. He’s not entirely sure yet...

“Do you plan on working in the Muggle Investigation Department at the Ministry? I mean your experience would be useful there.”

Albus frowns as James pitches the idea of working for the Ministry. He would rather die than work at the Ministry of Magic with his father and his brother.

Albus doesn’t expect James or his family to fully understand his choice to attend a Muggle university after Hogwarts. Scorpius gets it, and he thinks his mother gets it too. In his classes, he’s not Harry Potter’s son. He doesn’t shrink in the shadow of the Potter Legacy. There, no one cares about where he comes from, and that is such a relief. To just be Albus.

“It's not like I'm giving up magic completely.”

“I never said that,” James argues.

“You didn’t have to. I see it in your face.” Albus sighs. “Maybe coming over was a mistake.”

“No, you came to me for help. I want to do this for you.”

“It doesn’t matter. I’m being naive. Scorpius doesn’t--he couldn’t…”

“He couldn't what?”

Albus feels his face grow hot before dragging his hand over his face. Was James really going to make him say it out loud?

“He couldn't possibly feel the same way.” The words make Albus’s chest constrict as if it’s almost painful to say it.

“You know this for sure?” James asks. His expression grows suddenly serious.

“I just know.”

“So you haven't talked to him? You’re just assuming.”

“I'm not assuming.”

James sighs.

“I didn't realize how thick you would be. Al, talk to him. Be honest with Scorpius about your feelings. You’ll never know unless you talk to him. I know it’s terrifying to put yourself out there in the deep end. I know you. You’re crazy stupid about Scorpius, so stop wasting your time and tell him, because being in love feels --” He falters. “--really great.”

There is a long pause of silence as Albus watches a pink-hued flush color James’s cheeks. His dark brown eyes glimmer with something quite melancholy. It’s not a reaction that he expects from James, whose lips are perpetually carved into a smile. His eyes always shine with mischief.

Why does he look like that? Before Albus opens his mouth to speak, there is a thin pop.

Teddy stands in the middle of James’s living room. He looks pleasantly surprised to see Albus.

“Oh hello there, Albus,” He greets, gracing him with a charming grin before he sits on the sofa beside him.  “James didn't tell me that you would be stopping by. How is school?”

Albus cannot help the smile that is threatening to surface on his lips. Teddy has this way of waltzing into a room, making everything warm and welcoming and bright. Sometimes, Albus needs that.  

“Ugh, you’re so friendly. It’s gross.” James grumbles, rolling his eyes. He looks so childish as he sulks in the sofa with his arms folded over his chest. Teddy grins before he reaches over Albus to pinch James’s cheek.

“Is baby Jamie jealous? Not getting enough attention.” Albus laughs, and James’s face grows as scarlet as the Gryffindor chest from embarrassment as he tries to glare narrowly at Teddy.

“Teddy--stop!” James whines.

“No, I’m giving baby Jamie attention.” He smiles before crawling over a thoroughly amused Albus and wrestling James down on the sofa. They are a pair of flailing limbs and laughter. When James is pinned in a corner, Teddy ruffles James’s untidy hair and nuzzles their cheeks together. James squirms under Teddy’s weight. When he is freed, James glares half-heartedly at Teddy, the grin threatening to break on his lip betraying him.

“You’re the worst,” James tells Teddy, his brown eyes shimmering with something that Albus cannot quite decipher. He’s seen that shimmer before. He has caught his mother looking at their dad that way when she thinks no one is looking. It’s the same shimmer that Scorpius sometimes wears when he sits by their kitchen window quietly reading a new book to himself.

“I know.” A fond smile tugs on Teddy’s lips.  

Something passes between the two.

Strange.

Albus thinks.

However, he doesn't ponder on it too long. It's a ridiculous notion.

He’s imagining things.

Clearing his throat, Albus stands before reaching for his messenger bag.

“I was actually on my way back to class now,” Albus says, and Teddy frowns.

“Aw, I just got here, and you’re already leaving--”

“He probably doesn’t want to be stuck here with you. I know I don’t want to be.” James quips. Teddy doesn’t say anything. Teddy simply smiles at James adoringly. When it is too much, James, red-faced, looks away.

“I should be leaving,”  Albus says. Teddy climbs off the sofa and crosses over to him. He smiles warmly.

“You’ll have to tell me all about school. Maybe without Jamie here trying to hog all the attention.” Albus smiles.

“Hey!” James tries to interject, but both Teddy and Albus ignore him.

“Yeah, okay. Soon.” With a pop, he is gone.

When Albus starts looking for his notebook before his next class, he realizes that he has left it at James’s flat. In his hasty exit, Albus only picked up his backpack.

How could he be so stupid as to leave his notes?

It’s no problem really, just an inconvenience.

Fine, he'll apparate in quickly, grab his notebook, get out, and run to class.

Finding somewhere empty and hidden at the university, Albus apparates back to James’s flat.

In James’s flat, he finds his notebook wedged in between the sofa cushions. Relief floods his chest at the sight of it, and he quickly snatches up the notebook and stuffs it in his messenger bag. Albus prepares to apparate when he hears voices quietly wafting from the hallway.

“--I was thinking about last Sunday. It went so well. And then Albus being here earlier today...” Albus instantly recognizes Teddy’s voice.

Why is Teddy talking about him? Albus lingers at the edge of the hallway to listen to more. “Maybe--”

“This was your idea in the first place, and things are great this way.” This is undoubtedly James.

“I know, but things will be different after I get back from Romania. I’ll be more settled. I think Albus would understand if we told him. Maybe Harry and Ginny would understand. We could tell them together.”

“Um, no way. We are most definitely not telling my dad, the Savior of the Wizarding World and the Head of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic and your godfather! Do you have a death wish?”

There is a long pause, and Albus feels himself leaning in with great curiosity.

“Aren’t you tired of hiding? Are you even happy with the way things are?” Teddy speaks so faintly that Albus nearly misses it.

“They’re not going to understand.”

“It’s been a year,” Teddy says softly as Albus stands outside James’s open bedroom door.

“Over a year. A year and four months.” James corrects him.

Over a  year?

What does James feel like he needs to hide from him? From all of them?

Albus peers silently into the room.

James, with his arms defiantly crossed over his chest, stands in front of Teddy, who is sitting at the edge of the bed. The frown on James’s lips makes it evident that his brother would rather be anywhere than having this conversation. The two appear completely unaware of Albus's hidden presence.

“Will you at least consider telling them?” Teddy pulls James closer to him; his hands rest lightly on James’s waist. In response, James weaves a hand through Teddy’s bright blue hair, and Teddy closes his eyes and smiles. His hair changes from bright blue to a beautiful dark magenta as James quietly plays in his hair. It looks so natural. They look so natural and so comfortable with each other.

After a while, James speaks quietly.

“I just don’t want them to hate me,” James wears that same melancholy glimmer in his eyes from earlier, and Albus wants nothing more than to reach out for James, but he doesn’t know how. He needs to reassure James that they could never hate him. Albus could never hate him, but he wouldn’t know the words to say. Albus is rooted to the floor by his own cowardice.  

James’s statement makes Teddy open his eyes. He looks at James, so open and so warm.

“James Sirius Potter, look at me.” Ever so slowly, James’s gaze meets Teddy’s, glossy and wet.

“They could never hate you. I don’t think that Harry and Ginny have an unkind bone in their body. I just-- I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide a piece of yourself from them.” His voice is just as open and warm and soft as the way he looks at James. His brother's face grows flushed under Teddy's gaze, and his hand slips out of Teddy’s hair, gently tracing along the curve of his neck.

James crawls up on the bed, his knees on either side of Teddy’s hips and his hands on Teddy’s shoulders to steady himself. James leans his forehead against Teddy’s and closes his eyes.

They stay like this for a long moment before Teddy walks two fingers up James’s arm, and for some reason, this makes his brother’s lips curve into a soft smile.

James murmurs something too quietly for Albus to hear. Whatever it is, it makes Teddy laugh earnestly before he leans in, pressing their mouths other.

The sheer shock of the kiss is enough to make Albus drop his journal.

At the soft thud of the notebook hitting the floor, Teddy and James quickly spring apart to find Albus gawking in the doorway.

James’s expression is one of astonishment before melting into pure annoyance.

“What are you doing here?” James demands. His sudden hostility takes Albus off guard. He is used to James’s easy-going smiles and mischievous smirks.

“I- uh came back for this…” Albus quickly scrambles to grab the leather notebook. Teddy looks over at James, concerned.

“James--” Teddy starts.

James stands, dragging a hand over his face. “I need to talk to Albus. Alone.”

Teddy stands too. When he reaches out to touch James, the other shrinks away from him. Teddy appears hurt.

“You don’t have to do this alone.”

“I know.”

Teddy looks unconvinced, but he sighs before turning to Albus, who stares at the scene numbly. Teddy opens his mouth to say something to Albus before shutting it and apparating out.

Neither of the Potter brothers say anything but linger in a tense silence.

Albus is lost for words.

Every exchange between Teddy and James is bathed in a new light, like watching the colorful pieces of a kaleidoscope break apart and come together in new shapes. Suddenly, every sentence that was spoken, every glance that was shared, and every casual touch takes on a new meaning.

Albus feels the world shifting from under his feet.

His brother and Teddy, their godbrother.

“Teddy and you?” Albus asks, his mind processing this new revelation.  James ignores the question.

“Albus, listen, that wasn’t what it looked like.”

“Really? What exactly is going on between Teddy and you?” Albus snaps.

James dodges Albus’s inquisitive stare.

“Teddy and I are--” James falters, screwing his eyes shut and taking in a shuddering breath before opening his eyes again. “That was nothing,” he finishes lamely.

“It didn’t look like nothing. Whatever I just witnessed was most definitely not nothing.”

“Al--”

“James, I’m not an idiot. I would appreciate it if you would not treat me like one.”  Albus says, feeling his temper flare as James’s inability to simply be honest with him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” James denies, starting for the door and shoving past Albus, who manages to catch the sleeve of his shirt.

“Please James, I just want the truth.”

“Alright, you want the truth? There is nothing between Teddy and me.”  

“You’re such a hypocrite. You’re preaching to me about being honest, and you don’t even have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“Al, I said it was nothing, and you’re not going to say anything to anyone because you saw nothin--”

“No, I saw you snogging with Teddy. Our godbrother. Teddy and you. What the bloody hell James?”

James tears his arm out of Albus’s grip. “I don’t need your judgement!” he snaps.

Albus is bewildered by James’s comments. “Judgement? I’m trying to--”

“You can leave now.”

“What?”

“You heard me. This conversation is over.”

“James--”

“Get. Out.”

“Just let me--”

“Leave!”

Albus explodes, “Fine!”

With his notebook, Albus apparates out of James's flat and back to class.

[fyeahjamesandlily]

Mistletoe Hung Where You Can See

Gift for @october31st1981

A/N: I never understood mistletoe but 100% can see James stupidly trying to woo Lily with it. Anyway, I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

Rating: T

Word Count: ~2900

-

“Why the hell did I have to make out with Peter twice?” Sirius demanded the moment James entered their flat.

James raised his eyebrows—both of them because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t perfect the one eyebrow raise that all his friends did—and slowly made his way over to the lumpy couch where his best friend was sat. “I don’t know. Is there something you and Wormtail would like to share with the class?”

“Our flat’s been overrun with mistletoe! Why?”

“You realize you didn’t actually have to kiss him, right?” James replied, still unwilling to answer the question. Hedging was pointless though; Sirius knew him far too well and was probably already aware of James’ plan.

“Of course I had to kiss him. We were caught under the mistletoe, Prongs. I might not follow every rule but I’m not a savage. Back to the point at hand, why is there so much mistletoe?”

Sirius, damn him, had the smuggest expression on his face while he waited for James to own up to his pathetic attempt at romance. Knowing he was going to be teased mercilessly for the next few days, James took a deep breath and said, “It’s for the party we’re having this weekend. I wanted to get in the Christmas spirit.”

“I have no plans for the rest of the day,” Sirius said, leaning back and folding his hands behind his head. Even being halfway eaten by their monster of a couch, Sirius managed to look cool and aloof. “I will gladly sit here all night waiting for you to admit you’re trying to trick Evans into kissing you.”

“Not trick,” James protested. “Encourage, maybe.”

“Right.”

“I know how it looks but I know she likes me. She’s just too stubborn to admit it so I figured if we could get stuck under the mistletoe, she’d have an excuse to kiss me and then she won’t be able to fight her feelings anymore.”

“James…”

“It’s going to work,” James said determinedly, refusing to meet Sirius’ eye.

-

James met Lily back in Uni. They were in the same literature class and Lily was offended by something James said. She went on a whole rant but all he really got out of her little tirade was that the pretty red head was hot when she was angry.

He took to making some asinine comment every class just to get a reaction out of her and they wound up arguing a lot, despite the fact that once he took the time to listen to her, James actually agreed with a lot of what she was saying. A few weeks into class, he asked her out in front of everyone and she nearly slapped him.

It wasn’t the first time James was rejected by a girl but it was the first time he genuinely thought a girl was interested when she wasn’t. He stopped antagonizing her after that, being a smart enough bloke to figure out that he was the only one of the pair that enjoyed their arguments, and instead became determined to show how wrong she was about his character. Every class he tried to show off how much he actually learned from the class and from Lily herself.  

It was enough to get her to agree to study with him, which always wound up being the highlight of his week. The issue with spending more time with her, though, was that James soon learned Lily was not only gorgeous, passionate, and smart, she was also funny and kind and patient and loyal and basically the worst thing that ever happened to him.

When James finished the final for their class, he hung out in the hallway, leaning casually against the wall until Lily was done.

“Hey,” she greeted him with a smile. “Thanks for waiting for me. How’d it go?”

“Piece of cake,” James shrugged. “Sometimes I think I’m too smart for Uni. Anyway, would you want to grab drinks sometime this week?”

Lily glanced up, surprised. “That depends. Would this drink be as friends or a date?”

“A date, obviously,” James said. Then, because he was so sure she was going to say yes this time, he leaned over and whispered into her ear, “I know you’ve been waiting for me to ask for ages now.”

She didn’t shiver as his proximity or start snogging his brains out or whatever the hell he expected her to do. Instead, she took a step back, frowning slightly, and said, “I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t interested. I’d be glad to have drinks with a friend but if all you want is to get in my pants, I’m afraid the answer is no.”

“That’s not all I want,” he said automatically and then winced. While it was true that he wanted so much more than just sex from Lily, he knew that was probably not the best response he could have given. “I mean,” he tried again, “I wouldn’t mind getting a drink with a friend either. And you’re a friend so we could go down to the pub together, as friends. I don’t want us to stop talking just because our class is over. And I’ll stop hitting on you. I’m sorry.”

“You know,” Lily said, brow raised, “sometimes you’re really good with words and other times you word vomit all over the place.”

“It’s part of my charm,” James grinned.

“I can see that,” she said dryly. “I have another exam on Thursday so I’ll text you after that?”

“Sounds great—good. That… sounds good.”

“Okay. See you around.”

James watched her dark red hair swish behind her as she walked away and swore to himself he would get over the girl, for the sake of their friendship and his sanity.

-

Five years later and James didn’t exactly get over her the way he thought he would. For a few years he was able to live with it, even managed to date other girls and didn’t get too jealous when Lily would go on dates with other people. He was resigned to live a life where he would always be a little in love with Lily but he wasn’t going to let that hold him back from living. He figured once he found someone worth marrying it would get even easier but in the meantime, he was enjoying just having her around.

And then she started acting differently and it messed him up. She started laughing at all his jokes—even the occasional ones that fell flat—and would always find reasons to touch him. They were many a night spent cuddling on the couch, her head tuck into his chest and their legs intertwined. She would also give him what he could only describe as bed eyes and fuck if he was capable of getting over her when she was looking at him like that.

He might have been overconfident about her feelings all those years ago but he was convinced she liked him now. And he was going to get her to admit it, one way or another.

“This is one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had,” Remus said Saturday night when he entered the flat and was met with Sirius’ tongue. James could appreciate Sirius’ commitment to the mistletoe but he did not understand why he insisted on full out snogging everybody. A small peck would do, really.

“I think it’s brilliant,” James said.

“Knowing Lily she’s probably against the idea of kissing under mistletoe and will refuse.”

“But she’s so madly in love with me and is too stubborn to admit it so she’ll be glad to have an excuse to kiss me. Trust me, I’ve thought it all out.”

“What happens if she does kiss you and nothing happens?”

“What do you mean?”

Remus sighed and ran a hand over his face. “You’re so sure she’s going to admit her feelings for you. I’m merely concerned about your own feelings if that doesn’t happen.”

“Why wouldn’t it happen?” James asked. He appreciated Remus’ concern but James knew this wasn’t like the other times—he had done the research and had scientific evidence backing him up.

“I don’t know. But I want you to at least consider the idea that it’s not going to turn out in your favor.”

“If she winds up not doing anything, it’ll finally be the push I need to get over her. But that’s not going to happen.”

Remus let it drop and helped the boys finish setting up for the party. James made sure to answer the door when Peter finally showed up to help; he didn’t think any of them wanted Sirius and Peter under a mistletoe again.

“Sirius,” James said, once guests started showing up, “for the love of God, please don’t snog Lily if you get caught under some mistletoe with her.”

Sirius sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if she comes onto me, I’m not going to stop her. You never know, she might be harboring her undying love for me and this mistletoe will make her reveal her true feelings.”

“Shut up,” James said lightheartedly. “Go get more crackers from the kitchen.”

“Can’t. I just spotted someone I need to talk to. You do it,” Sirius said, bounding off to kiss his officemate under the mistletoe. James rolled his eyes but headed to the kitchen anyway to keep his guests well fed.

He was handing over the last cheese and crackers platter to Peter when a voice startled him, nearly making him drop the tray.

“Alright, Potter?”

James turned to see Lily Evans standing in the entryway, directly under mistletoe. If he just took a few steps forward…

“Nice to see you, Lily,” Peter said, walking carefully back to the party, arms full of food. Lily moved over to let him through and then grabbed his arm. “What?”

“Mistletoe,” she shrugged and gave Peter a quick peck before moving fully into the kitchen.

“Hi,” James said, trying not to feel annoyed that he missed out on his opportunity. He took the time to look over at her oversized sweater with a scary looking Santa Claus on it. She even managed to pull off the ugly sweater look, which was just entirely unfair.

“Hey. What are you doing hiding out in the kitchen? I thought you’d be the life of the party.”

“Everyone’s eating too much. All our friends are fat.”

“Well, you just sent Peter out with tons of food. I’m sure you can afford to stop being a hermit and enjoy your party for a bit.”

“True. Care to join me,” he asked, holding out his arm.

“I’ll meet you there. I’m gonna grab some water. You realize you only have alcohol out there, right?”

It wasn’t until he was back in the midst of the crowd that he realized he missed out on kissing her. Again. He gave Marlene a quick peck on the cheek as he passed her under the mistletoe and joined Sirius on their makeshift dancefloor. The night was still young and he set up a minefield of mistletoe; the kiss was going to happen sooner or later.

-

Two hours later and James was getting more frustrated. The party was proving to be a success, which wasn’t surprising considering the hosts, but Lily seemed to have kissed everyone there except James. Not that he was keeping track or anything. But people were entertained by all the mistletoe and started making games revolving around it. Apparently, Sirius and Lily were neck and neck with most kisses.

“What’s up with you tonight?” she asked, sidling up next to him on the wall he was leaning against. James glanced up—no mistletoe there.

“What do you mean?”

“You seem so broody and serious.” Her hair was starting to come out of its bun, causing wisps of red to frame her reddened face.

“I was dancing not five minutes ago. Give a guy a break,” James said, nudging her shoulder.

“I’m just saying. Everyone else seems to be enjoying the party but you.”

“I am enjoying it, promise.” He hesitated before adding, “I’m just disappointed about something but it’s not a big deal. I can mope about it tomorrow.”

“Good,” Lily said, pulling herself off the wall. “Because this is officially a no-moping zone. You are ordered to have fun.”

“Yeah, alright,” James said. He watched as Lily went over to Remus, gave him a quick kiss, and whispered something in his ear. Trying his best to listen to Lily’s advice, James pushed down any feelings of self-pity and did his best to enjoy the rest of night, knowing he wasn’t going to get that kiss any time soon.

-

The last of the guests left around a quarter to three, leaving James exhausted but overall proud of yet of another successful party. He began collecting the garbage and recycling, knowing he won’t want to do it when he wakes up.

“Need any help?” Lily asked, surprising him yet again.

“Nah, I got it. You can go home.”

“Are you sure? Your friends sort of abandoned you.”

“Yeah, well, they’re pretty useless.” James somehow always wound up being the one to clean up after his friends. He thought at least kind, responsible Remus would be the cleaner but the guy was an absolute pig and only helped out when James pleaded. Absolutely useless, they were.

“Well, I’m not so I’m going to help. Just for a bit?”

“Fine, fine. No need to beg.”

She beamed at him and started gathering empty cups.

“So,” she started after a few minutes of companionable silence. “There was a lot of mistletoe tonight. Kiss lots of pretty girls?”

“A few,” James said. He did not want to talk about the mistletoe to Lily of all people. He couldn’t help but notice that she still didn’t cross his paths under some, even when they were just cleaning up.

“Remus told me the funniest thing when I first got here,” she said casually. “He said that all this mistletoe was a scheme to try to get me to kiss you.”

James froze. He couldn’t believe Remus would betray him like that.

“At first I thought he was just teasing me but then I realized that he actually meant it. So, I spent the entire night avoiding getting stuck under the mistletoe with you, just to see what would happen.” She stared at him, her emerald eyes boring into him, as though she hoped to read his mind. When he didn’t respond, she spoke up again. “If you wanted to kiss me so badly, why didn’t you just tell me?”

James looked away, unable to have this conversation to her face. “It didn’t go so well the last time I asked you out. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by showing interest in you again. You mean a lot to me and I didn’t want to make things weird.”

“You mean a lot to me, too,” she said.

“I didn’t make things weird, did I?”

“No,” she said. He felt a swoop of relief and let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “I totally kissed more people than Sirius did. I should win an award or something.”

“You should,” James said. “That’s not an easy feat.”

“We might have tied, now that I think about it,” she said slowly, taking a few steps toward him. “I might need to kiss one more person to properly win.”

James didn’t really know how to reply so he just nodded awkwardly and went back to cleaning. She might not have felt weird but he certainly did.

“James,” she said, exasperated.  

“Yeah?”

“You’re kind of an idiot.”

“Funnily enough you’re not the first to tell me that.”

Lily shook her head and stepped even closer to him. “Mistletoe,” she said, pointing up.

James had just enough time to register what she said when he felt her lips pressed against his. He was surprised for about two seconds before his brain finally caught up to everything that happened and he kissed her back hungrily.

When it became too much he pulled away. “If this isn’t—if you’re not,” he tried.

“You didn’t need to trick me into kissing you. You just had to ask,” she said, her voice husky. She hadn’t opened her eyes yet and James was very tempted to keep kissing her but they needed to have this conversation.

“It wasn’t a trick. Why does everyone keep telling me it was a trick? Also, you could have asked me yourself, you know.”

“I did ask you.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Lily huffed and stepped back. “Last month, I asked if you wanted to go to the movies with me and you said—”

“I said I was busy. That was a date? I just thought you really wanted to see Moana.”

“First of all, of course I really wanted to see Moana, it was a great movie. Second of all, I made it pretty freaking obvious what my intentions were.”

“Clearly not if I didn’t pick up on them.”

“Oh my god, just stop talking and kiss me.”

“Yes ma’am,” James said and he closed the short gap between them.

-

The next morning James watched in amusement as Lily and Sirius argued over who won their contest. Overall he’d say Mission Mistletoe was another plan well done.  

[desperatemenministry]

— Unspeakable Joy

As I considered a suitable picture to go with this lesson for the blog, the first thought that came to mind was a baby whose expression communicated nothing but pure joy.  I found it.  This was the very first pic that appeared on the site we use.  Love it!  Nothing brings a smile to our faces or makes us LOL more than a baby, and this precious one certainly does that. 

In the first two parts of this series, “Seven UnCharcteristics That Can Change the World in 2017, we examined unconditional love and undying gratitude.  Today, we are going to look at the third one: unspeakable joy.  That beautiful thought was penned by the Apostle Peter referring to our response as believers to our Savior. 

“Whom having not seen, you love; in whom, though now you see Him not, yet believing, you rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory” 1 Peter 1: 8 (KJV 2000)

Some may recall last September I wrote the lesson, Cultivating Joy, in which we discussed joy from the viewpoints of the Apostle Paul, James, the half-brother of Jesus, and Jesus Himself.  One key takeaway was our need to allow the Holy Spirit the freedom to dig through and cultivate hard, crusty soil that can build up on our hearts so He can produce this much-needed fruit in our lives.

In this lesson, we are going to consider a couple of different viewpoints-a baby and his father.  Let’s begin with some presumptive thoughts on my part as to what may be going on in the mind of that joyful baby pictured above.

From the Eyes of the Baby

Three joyful thoughts came to mind through the expression of this baby.  First, there is obvious joy.  No frumpy, frowning sour-puss look of dismay or discomfort.  He is full of contentment, enjoying life as he knows it.  Second, he is oblivious to what is going on around him−not a care in this world.  Finally, he appears to be overcome with this joy to the extent he cannot contain himself.  The fact that he is not afraid to break out that big smile, knowing he only has one tooth, is amazing proof!  (Most men would not do that.)  There are probably unintelligible utterances coming from him no one can understand−but God.  And that does not bother him in the least.

From the Eyes of the Father

When my three children were born, I was there.  When Gracie was born, I actually caught her coming out of the womb and then cut the umbilicus.  I remember it like it was yesterday.  I was present and equally excited when my two sons came into this world, just not as personally involved in their deliveries.

Unspeakable joy filled my heart as a proud father on each occasion.  If you are a dad, you know exactly what I mean.  Here is what I knew about our babies:

They were unconditionally loved, even though they had not done one thing to earn it.

They were completely helpless and could not survive alone.

I would do anything within my power to care and provide for them - even to death.

I knew the day would come when our babies would have to choose for themselves, regardless of what I thought, said, or did. But I would love them still.

Nothing would ever be able to supplant or erase the memories of the joy of their births that makes me smile today even as I look at the picture above.

About this time some of you are thinking, “those times were great and I remember them fondly, BUT babies grow up and life interrupts even the most precious moments.”  That is true for all of us as babies who grew up and became fathers who have to contend with the fact that at some point in our lives,

“Joy fades, reality confronts, and the enemy (Satan) does all he can to break up the party.”

I write and teach as a father who endured the gauntlet from the death of a child, to the distresses every marriage brings, and the challenges of dealing with three teenagers.  I understand faded joy and crust-overlaid hearts... just like many of you have or now find yourselves smack in the middle of as you read this with some level of contempt for the lesson title.   

Rediscovering, Renewing, or Restoring Joy Unspeakable

I have great news no matter where you are in the cycle of life.  First, I want to share a few reminders from a father’s our Father’s point of view.

You are unconditionally loved, even though you did not do one thing to earn it. God cannot love you more and will not love you less.  No matter where you are; no matter what you have done.  It is the “everlasting love’ (Jeremiah 31:3).  Read and digest these verses:

“For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  (Romans 8: 38-39 NASB)

You were completely helpless and could not survive alone, but GOD is your protector and defender.

“But You, O LORD, are a shield about me, My glory, and the One who lifts my head.”  (Psalm 3:3 NASB)

Your Father will do anything within His infinite power to care and provide for you - even to death.

“But God demonstrates His own love for us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.”  (Romans 5:8 NASB)

God knew the day would come when you would choose for yourself; go your own way, regardless of what He had said to you and done for you. But He loves you still.

“And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him.”  (Luke 15:20 ESV)

God will not ever forget you and nothing can erase the memories of when you were born again in Christ. And that makes Him smile.

“Can a woman forget her nursing child and have no compassion on the son of her womb?  Even these may forget, but I will not forget you.  Behold, I have inscribed you on the palms of My hands; Your walls are continually before Me.”   (Isaiah 49: 15-16 NASB)

One final word of encouragement.  Unspeakable joy is not as far away as you think.  Finding or recapturing unspeakable joy in your life begins at the foot of the Cross and ends at the throne of our Father.  David, shepherd, king, and a man of many failures whom God called, “a man after My own heart” pointed the way.  David wrote,

“…in your presence is fullness of joy; in Your hand are pleasures forever.” (Psalm 16:11 NASB)

Remembering the Cross of Christ was the place of your new birth in Him will lead you like a baby to the throne of grace where it is ok to smile and laugh with unspeakable joy and utterances only He understands. That makes God smile, too.

Your desperate brother in Christ,

[startanewdream]

Hello over here! Really very good everything you write. Do you think you could do something about a Ginny and Sirius moment? People often forget about their union

Hi, Anon! 🤗 I'm glad you enjoy these stories of mine!

There are lot of lovely stories about Ginny and Sirius talking at Grimmauld Place, so I went for an idea I had for a while but I couldn’t develop much (I’ll post the WIP-without-progress about it too), that is a Sirius Lives AU, in which, unlike what I thought James and Lily would do, Sirius would never wait patiently until Harry and Ginny get together.

So please enjoy this drabble of Sirius meddling with Harry’s (and Ginny’s) lovelife as the good godfather he is.

(Warning for some mild swearing).

Something else

There is an almost business-like expression on Sirius’ face as he sits in the empty space next to her. It doesn’t suit him at all, but Ginny’s teasing is lost when she hears the words leaving his mouth:

‘What’s going on between you and my godson?’

She blinks quickly.

‘What?’

‘You and Harry’, he says, indicating the only not-ginger boy in the party, currently talking to the twins.

‘I know Harry is your godson’, Ginny notes, rolling her eyes, purposefully ignoring any implication of Sirius’ words. ‘You don’t have any other’.

‘Only because Moony is being too stubborn these days’, Sirius mumbles to himself. Then he blinks, looking back at her with nothing but determination. ‘Now, stop stalling. You, Harry. Talking to each other all the time. Together everytime I watch. Teasing each other. Laughing. All those sparks flying around you’.

In another time, Ginny would blush madly at the idea of sparks with Harry; damn, she would blush even before talking to him.

But this is not the time she lives in. She has moved on. She can talk to Harry without any hidden purpose behind it.

‘We are just friends’.

He shakes his head.

‘Ron and Hermione are just friends’, he declares. 

Ginny looks away, slightly upset. ‘I know we are not best friends, but I really consider —’

‘No, you misunderstood me. You and Harry, it’s not just friendship — it’s something else’.

She smiles condencendly. ‘I think freedom is messing with your head, Sirius. Harry is just happier this summer, and —’

‘He is happy with you’.

Ginny sighs, not knowing how to answer. There is no denying that Harry is the brightest she had ever seen this summer, with Sirius’ being free at least; even the postponing of their plans to live together had not dimmed his happiness. He had spent most of the days in the Burrow, with Sirius always coming to dinner with him, despite the Order’s meetings or other business he had to conduct in the Ministry.

Harry’s happiness was contagious and overwhelming. Everyone was noticing it, Ginny knows.

But it can’t be because of her. Sure, they had been talking more, enjoying more moments together than they ever had before, but that’s only because they share the same humour (teasing Ron and Hermione, having a laugh about Bill and Fleur, even planning some pranks together), the same love for flying (they wake up before dawn somedays to watch the sun rising from up the sky, or then challenging each other with some trainings or just enjoying a race around the house).

It doesn’t have the hidden meaning Sirius is implying.

‘He is happy. Period’.

‘That he is. But it’s not the same. He looks at you as… as James once looked at Lily’.

Flush comes to her cheek before she can control herself.

‘Sirius!’, she cries, annoyed now. ‘His parents — this is not a joke’.

‘Oh, I am serious’, he assured her, smirking. ‘Harry is oblivious as a door, my poor godson, but he really seems smitten with you’.

Her heart beats faster. Ignoring it (and admonishing herself for this weakness), Ginny shakes her head furiously. ‘I don’t know what you’ve been drinking, but you are barking mad’.

‘I do bark sometimes, but right now, no, I’m pretty sure. Harry is usually very closed with his feelings, but when it comes to you… it’s an open book. James was the same, you know’.

‘No’ she disagrees, forcing herself not to look upset upon remembering it. ‘I’ve seen him with Cho — his first girlfriend? — and he is not like that with me. He was always shy and nervous around her’.

‘But you are not her, are you? And from what Harry told me, they didn’t date, it was just a crush. This — between you and him — is something else. It feels more real’.

‘No, you are wrong, I… I have a boyfriend’.

‘And?’

‘And I am over my crush on Harry!’

‘Are you?’

‘Merlin, you are annoying’, she declares, crossing her arms. 

‘So if he came here to declare his undying love for you, you would not care?’

‘I’m over’, she repeats. ‘I —’

‘Harry!’, Sirius calls him suddenly.

She can’t help it. With all this talk and her treacherous mind easily conjuring the fantasy of Harry kneeling in front of her (eyes shining, slightly out-of-breath, looking at her adoringly), a blush spreads to her cheek as Harry comes running to their side.

It doesn’t help the fact that Harry looks really gorgeous, having grown over the summer, his skin tanned after a short week at the beach with Sirius, and bringing with him the nice scent of his cologne.

‘We are on a discussion here’, Sirius says, ignoring Ginny’s glare. Harry is alternating his gaze between them, but she can’t really meet his eyes — for the first time in a long time. ‘What do you think of Ginny?’

Oh, she is gonna hex him. Sirius will rather face dementors again than her wrath.

Harry blinks, unsure. ‘What do you mean?’

‘How do you feel about her?��

‘Ah —’

‘As a chaser’, Sirius supplies calmly, a smirk on his lips that he doesn’t try to hide.

Harry lets out a breath, seeming suddenly relieved. Sirius winks at Ginny — see what I mean?

Shut up, she blinks back at him.

‘Ginny is great’, Harry declares, drawing her attention to him. He is looking at her, grinning, and it’s hard to resist the urge to smile back. That boy was really made for smiling; the world seems a better place when he does. ‘I’ve never seen anyone flying like you, truly. You’re fast and skilled and if you don’t show up for trials, I will have to come to the Common Room to drag you’.

She lets out a laugh; Harry seems glad with her reaction.

‘Trials? All these compliments and I still have to try out?’

His face reddens and Harry looks embarrassed. ‘I can’t show favouritism’, he whispers.

‘So I’m your favourite?’, she asks before she can’t control herself.

‘You are’, he admits, and now she can’t deny the admiration in his eyes — and something else.

Damn. Sirius is right.

She turns her head, just as Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.

‘Thanks, Harry, that settles our discussion’.

‘What discussion?’

‘Oh, I just needed to prove a point. You know, about how you feel about Ginny’s… quidditch skills’.

‘Why was that in discussion? She is bloody brilliant’.

‘Oh, I know. I am sure you two will have a lot of fun this year in… the Quidditch field’.