#the many wrongs and few rights of james potter | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunnami · 9 months ago

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❝time will tell.❞

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

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

pairing/s. poly!mauraders + lily x reader.

word count. 9.5k.

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

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

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

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

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

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

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

Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You reach over to smack his head, scowling.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it.

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

“That slimy bitch!”

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

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

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

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

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

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

You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight.

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

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

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

“That’s Sirius.”

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

Sirius Black.

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

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

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

You gasp. “That’s horrible!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grimace. “Which cousin?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nod.

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

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

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

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

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

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

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, Harry. . .”

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

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

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

“It’s—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.”

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

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)

But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision.

“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.”

“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears.

“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!”

James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.”

Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.”

With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked.

Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?”

You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations.

“It was fine,” You say in a daze.

Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?”

Were you?

You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend!

There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize.

Then, you find it.

Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face.

It’s a space on that wall just for you.

James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.”

“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much.

James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”

“James, I can’t do this.”

That’s all you say before you run out of the door.

(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.)

You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe.

James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”

You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.”

“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.”

You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well.

James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.”

“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes.

He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.”

“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”

He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!”

You don’t look back.

(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.”

Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair.

“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.”

James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”

“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.

You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you.

Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?”

Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”

“Got anymore stories?” He asks.

You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!”

Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?”

“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.”

Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater.

Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra.

You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.”

“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more.

“Certain,” You respond, yawning.

As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones.

“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!”

Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out.

“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came.

“I know,” You say defeatedly.

“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.”

“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.”

Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?”

“I don’t know,” You say honestly.

Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.

“What?”

“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”

(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora.

You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—”

“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”

Oh, Harry knows.

And Hermione knows it all too well.

“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”

At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.”

You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.”

Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”

Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home.

You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order.

“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips.

Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.”

“I’m always right.” You pout.

Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”

“Without a doubt.”

You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.

“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.”

As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back.

How lucky you are.

“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen.

“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly.

You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.”

Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!”

Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”

You grin. “Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.”

“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.”

Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor

“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway.

Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:

“We’re all getting married!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.”

You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.”

Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will.

“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.

You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!”

Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.”

You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?”

Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.”

“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.”

Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.”

“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.”

Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?”

“His hair?” James exclaims in horror.

Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”

“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.”

“I’m telling Euphemia on you!”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)

“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll.

Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”

“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.”

You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”

“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)

IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them.

(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.”

“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?”

“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”

You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.”

James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.”

You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)

Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness.

Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters.

The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement.

Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue.

“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead.

“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.”

“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?”

When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast.

“Avada Kedavra!”

You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor.

“No!”

You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice.

“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh.

“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?”

“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”

“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need.

“Expulso!”

Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down.

“Accio wand!”

The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense.

“Peter?” You call out.

“Crucio!”

The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt.

“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!”

It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.

“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.”

“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.”

You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat.

“Defodio!”

You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground.

That just leaves one more problem.

Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.”

Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.

“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.”

Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.”

“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.”

“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die, s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.”

Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow.

Oh.

Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work.

You just wanted to rest now.

The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words.

“Avada Kedavra.”

(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms.

You’ll feel my blood on your skin.

You’re a dead man.

Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.”

“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely.

Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?”

Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?”

Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?”

Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.”

Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.

Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?”

“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors.

James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!”

“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.”

James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.)

ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus.

He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains.

You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.)

Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”

He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by.

“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”

And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for.

end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!

#hp angst #hp fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #james potter x reader #lily evans x reader #marauders angst #marauders fluff #marauders imagine #marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #remus lupin x reader #sunny's hp fics

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my-castles-crumbling · 1 month ago

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congratulations - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 298

"Well. I think congratulations are in order."

Looking up, it took a few minutes for Regulus to find where the snotty voice was coming from. But when he did, his lip curled back in disgust. It was Amanda, one of the many girls who had been vying for James's attention for months. He'd never felt particularly threatened by them, but they did make his skin crawl with annoyance.

"Yeah?" he asked carelessly. "Why's that?"

"You landed James Potter. Merlin knows half the school fancies him. How'd you do it, a love potion?" she sneered.

He could retaliate. He could throw a spell or a punch. But instead, he just looked her up and down disdainfully. "Amelia, right?" he asked, purposely getting her name wrong. "Do you even know James?" he paused only long enough to allow her to look furious. "Do you know that he prefers cinnamon in his porridge, but only if there's not chocolate chips available? Do you know that he says his favorite color is red, but it's really dark green? Do you know that he has the most annoying habit of chewing on his quills and fingernails while doing homework and it drives me up the wall? Do you know that ever since he was five, he's wanted to play Quidditch, but he's top in his class at Transfiguration? Do you know that just yesterday, he spent an hour working with one of the first years, because she didn't know how to fly and he offered to teach her? Do you know him?" He demanded.

Now, Amanda was blinking, red-faced but silent.

"No," Regulus answered for her after a pause, breathing heavily. "You don't know him. And you don't fancy him. You fancy the idea of him."

And he turned away, head held high.

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calliopesdiary · 4 months ago

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10 Things I HATE About: You.

summary: James is starting to get desperate when Lily continues to reject his attempts to date her, as she reveals she's not allowed to date until her completely opposite twin sister does. which seems highly unlikely, (thats why its such a good rule). so James comes up with a grand plan to get Sirius to date her, what could go wrong?

(literally just the story of 10tihay)

wc: 1,585

pairings: evans!slytherin!reader (jeezus thats a mouthful) x sirius black

tropes: grumpy x sunshine, because of a bet

contents: angst? (if that's what we call it) to comfort, happy ending, james doesn't think before he does something, mulciber is sexist (but what’s new)

a/n: this will come in two maybe three parts so stay tuned!

Pt.1-?

TO PUT THINGS LIGHTLY: you didn't give a damn about your bad reputation.

Lily on the other hand? did, very much so.

Which is one key reason she didn't appreciate James Potter chasing her around like a lost puppy dog 24/7 365.

Yet she was (unfortunately) falling for James, but couldn't do anything about it since she was forbidden to date by her father until you did, her twin sister.

you guys were insanely different, like night and day.

Lily was a goody-two-shoes, good grades, kept her mouth shut, a clean record.

You on the other hand- while you had also good grades, your record was not clean.

but between having shouting matches with Lucius and Severus about their sexist tendencies or muggleborn rights:

you'd been in detention quite a few times.

but people always seemed to think you were a scary, bitch of a slytherin.

but it's not like many of the slytherin's liked you always, you were a muggleborn after all.

not to mention; relationships made you want to hurl.

and Lily detested you for that.

"Can't you just be a normal person with normal person interests for once!?"

"now, where's the fun in that?" You reasoned from your spot on the library's couch.

"Y/n, Please? You know I like him." Lily begged, her bottom lip jutted out in a stupid pout.

"And? You shouldn't, Lils. He's actually daft." She groaned irritatingly.

"Where are you from? Planet Loser?"

"As apposed to Planet 'Look At Me, Look At Me!'"

"Sirius, Sirius- Please!" James pleaded from his position below Sirius, up on top his knees.

"James, you are quite literally asking me to do the impossible."

"Sirius- She can't date, until Y/N does... and- and you, you my handsome friend- can date her- so I can date Lily!"

James had his hands holding desperately onto Sirius'.

"500 Galleons." Sirius ripped his hands away from James, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Deal."

They shook on it.

You found it quite odd, how it seemed like you were being stalked all of the time.

You were at quidditch practice when a boy with medium length, raven hair came up to you.

you knew exactly who this was.

"Hi, love." he took your sweaty hand and placed a soft kiss on the back of it.

"Sirius, Sirius Black." he flashed that 'Sirius Black Grin'.

"I'm well aware." You smiled begrudgingly.

"You don't seem incredibly happy to see me, Evans." He just kept on grinning, grinning like he won the Quidditch World Cup or something.

"I'm not, Black. Please leave me alone." You gathered up your things quickly, wanting to get out of his sight.

Sirius seemed a bit put down, nobody had ever been this insistent to get away from him.

usually girls would through themselves at him.

not you though.

he liked that.

very much so.

He cleared his throat. "So, Friday then?"

you stopped walking, turning your head back to him.

"Friday? what about Friday?" You scoffed.

"I'll pick you up on Friday to go on a date."

Damn, that was smooth, even you had to admit it.

"No thank you." you weren't sure what emotion to feel at that moment- embarrassment, annoyance, irritation.

but so far, his plan wasn't working.

but it will.

you had walked off long before he left the pitch, before returning to James in the courtyard.

He slumped against a tree, sighing with annoyance.

"We're screwed." He groaned pessimistically.

"Come on, Pads. Be a bit optimistic."

"We're screwed!" He cheered sarcastically.

The days following were odd, and more annoying then usual.

Sirius Black wouldn’t cease following you around.

Slytherin had a Quidditch Game that day, and you really couldn’t stand Mulciber and Avery’s constant berating of the fact a girl was Slytherins seeker.

“You know— Mulciber, L/N is actually one of the best seekers we’ve had at Hogwarts in years.” Sirius explained proudly.

“but it seems that you can’t wrap your utterly sexist brain around that.” He cooed, Mulciber turned as red as lava.

“She’s only there for eye candy, Black. you understand she’s a filthy mud blood, right?” Mulciber barked, Sirius then wondered; with all this barking he’s doing, maybe he’d like me to throw a stick?

“and what has that got to do with absolutely anything?”

“come on, Black. don’t act like you are this muggles rights activist, you’re a Black.”

Sirius hated being reminded of that fact, he had ran away over a year ago.

“and— besides, L/n is only on the Quidditch Team because she has good tits.”

Sirius clenched his fists, before he shot towards Mulciber in an angry rage.

only he was allowed to say you had good tits.

the punches flew as Avery stood at his spot by the wall, his face not having any color what so ever. he looked like he had seen a ghost.

obviously, all good things must come to an end. as McGonagall stormed out of her office to take points away from both houses, and to instruct Avery to take Mulciber to the hospital wing and then to Detention along with Sirius.

in Sirius’ book, it was worth it.

“he got detention? for you?” Dorcas repeated for about the seventh time in the past three minutes.

“Yes, Dorcas.” You were disgusted by what Mulciber had said about you.

“come on, sugar. everyone here knows you have lovely tits.” Barty mentioned from his place shoved (lovingly) into Evan’s armpit while gnawing on his bicep.

“okay— yeah, whatever. but i certainly don’t need to hear about it from Mulciber and his pet rat.”

You bid farewell to your friends before returning to your dorm.

and you couldn’t wait to plop down on your bed and watch a movie, that was your ideal thursday night.

until something was in the way, and by something i mean a giant bouquet of flowers and by in the way i mean they were right smack in front of your door.

“You have to be fucking kidding me.”

you held a tiny note in your hand, having plucked it from the flowers seconds earlier.

“Dear Y/n.”

“don’t listen to Mulciber, he’s harmless. (and jealous that you actually made the quidditch team.) i siriusly (haha, get it?) want to take you out on the finest of dates tomorrow night, would you please accept?”

(: -sirius b. ps. you looked very nice today.

a smile cracked from your lips, before shaking it off and picking the flowers up off the floor.

a date? with you?

why would he want a date with you? where was this obsession coming from?

you supposed you could do it as an act of public service, (to yourself that is) since it would probably not be enjoyable enough for the both of you.

and he did just beat someone up for you.

so why not indulge in him for an evening?

Friday Night had rolled around and you were nervous, he’d only been talking to you since monday and you weren’t sure if you shared the feelings.

but after that night, everything changed.

Sirius was sweet, lovable, and overall not how he seemed.

On the outside, you perceived him as this immature, prankster of a boy who hadn’t gotten enough attention as a child so he felt the need to beg for it everywhere he went.

but on the inside? he was soft, kind, and on top of that he was a gentlemen (which was very unexpected).

“I’m sorry.” you noted.

“sorry for what, dollface?” he chuckled.

“I misjudged you.” Sirius’ brain clogged with worry.

“how did you perceive me before?”

“well— i thought you were immature.” you began, not easing his worries one bit.

“and… i thought this was all a big prank.”

“it’s not.” he quickly answered, but it was, he was lying.

it wasn’t a prank per say, but it was a bet.

which may have been worse.

"Pads!" James yelped, sprinting towards him once he came back from your date.

"Prongs." Sirius greeted him cordially.

"So? How'd it go?" He sat down like he was the best friend character in a 2000s movie hearing about the main characters date with her crush.

"Good, She seems like a nice person."

"Pads, you seem all down in the dumps." James frowned, wrapping an arm casually around his best friend's shoulders.

"What's got your mind going?" Remus did the same as the former, leaning onto him gently.

"well- I'm not sure about this, I may be a bastard but I don't want to hurt her. She thinks I'm being serious."

The worst part about this was: that Sirius was already feeling serious about it, as Serious as Sirius could be.

Seriouser then he's ever Sirius'd.

but you didn't deserve this.

and boy, did he feel shit about it.

#fem!reader #marauders era #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #fanfiction #sirius black x reader #dead gay wizards #10 things i hate about you

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nightsmarish · 6 months ago

Text

Summary: after talking to Regulus, you both decide to take the offer to stay with the Potters, and barty gets thrown across the slytherin table by Evan

Pt1

A/n: very focused on Reg for some reason, not 100% sure why, but it's lovely, also we love bestie barty. ALSO ALSO, reader is aggressively, very aggressively, hinted to be slytherin

Poly!moonwater x reader (Remus lupin x regulus black x reader) | 1.4k words

Tw: toxic family, running away? Family disappointment, ect. Barty jinxing Gryffindors for sport and an owl flying into a chess game

Asked to be tagged: @misacc08

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊

It's finally two weeks until the end of this year at Hogwarts. Class times have been filled with going over study guides and reviewing for the final exams only a few days away.

Neither you nor Regulus have said yes to staying at Potter Manor this summer. Despite James being very adamant about it.

“I’ll just mention you blokes might be joining us.” James told you when you visited Gryffindor table one morning, as he wrote his parents.

“James-”

“No, no, let ‘im. No harm in it? Is there?” Sirius cuts you off, feet extended to rest on the bench across the table from him.

“But Mrs. Potter shouldn’t prepare an extra room if neither of us will be joining.” Your points are acknowledged when James hums to confirm he heard you, but his quill never stops moving.

Remus has been looking at you the whole time. Not in a creepy way, you're both pretty sure not in a creepy way at least. Just in an undivided attention way. Practically ignoring the other two boys to admire you, other than when he occasionally slaps away Sirius’ hand on his fifth attempt to grab Remus’ food.

You look down to where Remus sits as well. Honestly, he's not that much shorter than you sitting down, but wherever. Your hand that's not holding the strap of your bag gently scratched the hair at the base of his head before kissing his cheek, mumbling a small promise to see him during your study time later.

ᯓ★

It's not like you don’t want to go to stay with everyone else. It’d be amazing; it really would. But the idea of going when Regulus stays at the Black House feels wrong. You know being with your parents won’t help him, nor will being at James’ house, but it feels wrong.

Remembering how destroyed he was when Sirius left. When he came back to school, you two hadn’t known the Marauders like you do now. The anger he knew was misplaced, but he couldn’t help but feel abandoned by Sirius. You remember it—the crying, the way he couldn’t focus until a month into school. And you remember Sirius being disowned.

And maybe that's part of it too. The idea of being disowned. Even if you know they are horrible people, people you don’t wish to be related to. The idea still makes you sick. Their horrible and evil, but dear Salazar, parent approval is so addicting and you hate how much you still want it.

So which is worse, feeling like you betrayed one of your boyfriends, or your parents disapproval?

“Regulus?” You keep your voice low in the library. The aforementioned boy looks up from his textbook sitting across from you. Remus, next to you, pauses, moving his quill to focus on you two as well.

“Yes?” His voice matches yours, despite being a little more stiff.

“I wanna talk about it again. About James’ house.” You rush the words out. Probably because you know Regulus will want to shoot it down immediately.

“Love, you know I’m not going.” He sighs, sitting up straight in his seat.

“Why? Why not go?”

"Dove-" Remus tries to interject, not sure how well direct confrontation will go after Regulus has already denied it far too many times.

“What would I do?”

Both you and Remus pause, looking right at Regulus. Who stares right back at you.

“What do you mean?’ Remus says what you think.

“I leave, I get disowned, I lose the family fortune.” There are unspoken words there; everyone knows. He loses the Black name, he loses the reputation, and he loses everything he ever knew. Sirius had always wanted to leave; he had dreamed about it long before the possibility ever even crossed Regulus’ mind. The older Black had an idea of what would happen long before he left. Regulus hasn't gotten that right.

“We can figure it out when we get there, love.” Remus rests his quill in the small ink pot, reaching both his hands to cup Regulus’ hands between his own.

All three of you stay silent for a second, Regulus looking down at Remus’ hand covering his own, you staring at Regulus, and Remus looking between the two of you, trying to figure out what to do.

"If..." you sigh, shifting in your seat, “if... you go... I’ll go, and we can figure it out together.”

Gray eyes shoot up to yours. “Are you serious?” His voice is unsure, like you're going to take your offer back for no apparent reason.

“Yeah. I’m scared too, but I don't think I can bring myself to go back, not this time. But at the same time, I won’t be okay with going if you don’t go.”

Remus takes a deep breath, one hand still holding the younger boy's hand, other moving so his arm wraps around your shoulder, gently rubbing your upper arm. “So, it's settled. I can tell James.”

“Thank you,” You whisper, and Regulus takes one of his hands from the lycan to intertwine your fingers.

ᯓ★

The letter felt wrong to write. Less than a week before you're off to Potter Manor is when you get a response.

You're sitting at the Slytherin table in the morning when the letter holding their response arrives. Your owl landing smoothly, unlike the poor Hufflepuff owl you see sly head first into a game of Wizard Chess.

The seal of the letter belongs to your family, and it's painfully obvious. Regulus had gotten his response within a few days. Hurtful and harsh, despite never reading it yourself.

Looking around, Regulus is watching Barty, who is sitting on the long table rather than at it, cast small, mostly-hopefully harmless jinxs on a few older Gryffindors who haven't seemed to notice who's doing it. While Evan is whispering more and more jinxs for Barty to use.

Deciding that you might as well get it over with, you break the wax seal. The letter was nothing but vile, as you expected, the threats, the anger, the disappointment. Yet, you are honestly relieved. Like a huge, bolder is off your back. Sisyphus would envy you.

"And what do you have? A secret admirer? Are you planning on finally leaving the wild beasts you call boyfriends?"

Barty turns his attention to you as you finish reading, snatching the letter to inspect it.

"Ew, is that from your parents?" Evans nose scrunches up, noticing the names signed at the bottom of the parchment when he leans over Bartys shoulder.

"Yeah, I wrote them last week that I'd be staying with the Potters this summer, and they finally got back to me." Your voice remains surprisingly even, despite feeling somewhere between calm and like you're going to vomit, cry, and punch a wall.

Evan and Barty continue to scrutinize the letter, the phrasing, and how your mother writes the letter S weird. While Regulus leans closer to you.

"Everything okay?" His quite, a stark contrast two the boys sitting acorsd from you as Barty pushes his boyfriend off the seat for something or another and Evan kicks a little too close to Bartys dick.

"Yeah, it'll be okay." You hum, scooting closer to the pale boy, "would you and Remus want to come stay at my dorm tonight? At least for a little? Serenella and Iris are both going to be out all night."

"Of course, love. I'll grab Remus after charms and we can meet you there before dinner?" A soft kiss is placed on the top of your head when he finishes his sentence.

"That sounds good."

The peace of the situation is cut off by Barty falling off the table towards you, taking you down to the floor with him.

"God damnit Barty!" A smile far to big for the situation paints your face face.

"Evan threw me, gem! He tried to kill me! I'm wounded." Barty sits half on hus knees, half laid out on the gross Hogwarts in such a pathetic manor Regulus chuckles under his breath.

"And I'll do it again idiot!" Evan sits back on his spot at the long table. Huffing while smoothing out his hair and uniform.

"Oh God, gem, I won't make it." Barty throws himself onto you, your back to the ground as you laugh. "If I die will you leave your loser boyfriends to join me and Evan?"

"Okay, junior, that's enough." Remus appears in your vision, slightly nudging Bartys side, like touching him too long will make whatever is sodding wrong with the boy rub off on him.

"Hello, big boy." Barty stands up and takes you with him, dusting off his and your clothes. "You know, both of you could leave Regulus and-"

"Okay Barty!" Regulus pushes Barty to sit back down, shutting him up as he begins to bicker with Regulus next.

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whorediaries-09 · 6 months ago

Note

hey I love your writing. I’d love if you could do like a James potter x reader where James is smoking and reader finds it really hot and has maybe there in public so she’s just sitting there really turned on and can’t do anything about it ??

hello, love! do you mind if i take a piece of your mind because this idea had me reeling. hehe, thank you for sending in the request!

can't you see, you're meant for me?

pairing- bsfdad!james potter x reader warning(s)-suggestive content, cigarettes. a/n- i'm a sucker for dilf james...sorry not sorry.

ps- this is very short :p. lmk if ya'll would like a part two hehe.

little train

you shouldn't be thinking about his biceps. not when you're out and about in public. but still, your mind doesn't stop reeling. you watch the sun rays reflect on his brown skin, reflecting the stretch marks he's got on his arms. they're beautiful, you think, as the veins pop from within his skin. he inhales another puff from the cigarette, watching as the smoke ascends into the sky.

'want one, love?' he asks.

'no mr. potter,' he huffs.

'i've asked you so many times to not call me that. you know you can call me james,'

'ah-okay, james, i don't want a cigarette.' he laughs.

'i don't think i'd be able to handle two stoners either ways.'

you're listening to him intently. at least that's what he thinks.

your mind however in occupied in the idea of having his hand wrap around your throat, as he'd push you to the wall, kissing you harsh. you imagine his fingers exploring every bit of your bare skin, with his rough calloused hands. you'd let him, happily. and even if deep down you know it was wrong to be fantasizing about your best friend's dad.

god, you couldn't help yourself.

'love, are you listening?' he asked, apparently caught up on the way you'd zoned out. you'd been practically zoned out, mesmerized by his biceps. he threw the cigarette on the ground, crushing it with the sole of his shoe.

you'd been caught. fuck.

'you seem lost, are you okay?' he said, moving towards you. he was wearing a compression sleeveless shirt paired with gray sweatpants. the ultimate outfit to get you reeling and drooling over him.

'i-ah- i zoned out, james. i'm okay,'

he didn't buy your lie. instead, he offered you a wicked smile.

'you are?'

'totally,' you answered, overly cheerful.

'and i totally believe you.' you blushed, cursing yourself internally.

'now tell me, what is your pretty mind thinking about?' he said, moving closer. you stammered, taking a few steps back.

'i-i'm just thinking about-'

'about?' he knew what you'd been thinking about. you could see it in his eyes. in his soft hazel eyes there was a twinge of malice, a twinge of mischief which you could recognize so well. and god forbid it made you so weak in the knees. you closed your eyes, trying to let your heart stop before you spoke the next words,

'you know what i'm thinking about, james.' he smiled lopsidedly, as if greatly amused, running his tongue over this upper row of teeth.

'do i now, love?'

'i think so, yes.' even if you're faking your confidence, he can right see through your act. he can see you crumbling from within as he towers over you, asking you mundane questions. and god does he love the effect he has on you.

he tests the waters, his palm coming closer to your face. you lean towards it, but just as your face is about to touch the crevice of his palm, your best friend shouts,

'oi! papa! i'm coming,' you jump away from him as harry comes running towards james. in your head, you hate how harry came in and ruined the moment. but you're also grateful because you didn't think you'd be able to control yourself if he held your face. however, it was safe to say the ride back home was more torturous than ever.

he kept tapping his fingers on the passenger's seat while he drove, seemingly nonchalant. but boy both of you knew it drove you fucking crazy.

*************************************

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

****************************************

#james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter smut #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #marauders #harry potter fanfiction #the marauders #james potter #james #james potter x y/n #marauders era #james potter x you #dead gay wizards #the marauders era

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sixlane · 7 months ago

Text

@croptopjames submission | 1.5k words | NSFW - dom/sub, praise, degradation, spanking, gagging

Dedicating this to euge @ecstarry for brainrotting with me and lune @sommerregenjuniluft because we talked about dancer james once. Love you guys <3

Regulus walks the length of the studio assessing the attire of his dancers. He has a strict policy of professionalism that he makes no exceptions for, and James has been pushing his luck recently.

He had hired James as an apprentice only a few months ago, but he was already regretting the decision. Not because of James’ abilities, but because of his utter lack of respect.

James is a brilliant dancer, don’t get him wrong. He came from the most prestigious modern dance conservatory in the country, and Regulus had managed to sign him right out of school.

He’s inclined to say James wasn’t worth the work, but that wouldn’t be completely true. He may make Regulus’ life a living hell, but he’s fucking gorgeous on stage, all lean muscles and strong lines. It’s captivating to watch, even more so when he gets to see it up close.

As Regulus makes his way across the room, he catches sight of James in the back sporting gray joggers and— he has to take a minute to register what he’s seeing. Is that a fucking crop top?

James just flashes a knowing smirk, staring Regulus down. He’s been called out for wardrobe infractions at least three times this month, and it’s starting to get old.

“Sirius,” Regulus calls out to his brother, but more importantly, his rehearsal director. “Can you start the warm up? I need to have a word with Potter.”

A few snickers sound throughout the studio because his employees can be fucking children sometimes, and Sirius nods, getting up from his spot on the floor.

Regulus turns toward the door, knowing James will follow him, and makes his way to his office down the hall.

He only has to stand behind his desk for a minute, arms crossed, before James waltzes in, closing the door behind him.

“This is grossly unprofessional, you do realize that,” Regulus deadpans.

“I do realize that,” James responds innocently, batting his lashes.

Regulus runs his eyes over the man standing in front of him, something he didn’t want to do in front of everyone in the studio.

The top hits a few inches above his navel and exposes the soft lines of his abs and a stripe of dark hair that trails beneath his joggers.

“Eyes up here,” James says, bringing Regulus’ attention back to the matter at hand.

He gives James a stern look and leans forward on his desk.

“How many times do I have to tell you this won’t be tolerated in my company?” he asks.

James’ eyes darken and he leans forward to mirror Regulus. “Not sure. Will you tell me again?”

The audacity of this man… Well, Regulus thinks, maybe it’ll stick this time.

He reaches across the table casually, stroking a hand across James’ face. The dancer leans into it, fluttering his eyes shut for a moment, before Regulus reaches around his head to grab a fistful of his hair.

James opens his eyes and a slanted smile pulls at his mouth.

“Keep your hands on the table,” Regulus says before pushing James’ head down onto his desk. “Don’t move.”

James goes willingly, bending in half over the desk like a dream.

Regulus walks around to stand behind him, admires the curve of his ass and the ridges of his spine where they’re exposed under his shirt. He runs his fingers over them, eliciting a small shiver from James.

Regulus dips his hands into the waistband of James’ joggers, sinking his nails into the soft skin, before roughly pushing his pants down around his ankles.

James’ breathing picks up, his anticipation getting the better of him. Regulus would love to draw this out, but he’s afraid he hasn’t got the time today.

He smacks James’ ass once, causing the other man to jolt and let out a soft whine.

“Stay quiet,” Regulus commands.

James nods in confirmation. A lie, most likely.

Regulus lets a finger wander through the cleft of James’ ass, circling his rim in slow and deliberate movements. He keeps his eyes on James’ face where it’s pressed against his desk. His eyes are shut, mouth open.

“You’re so pretty like this,” Regulus says. “When you’re not talking back to me.”

James makes a needy noise pressing his hips back onto Regulus’ finger, searching for a fullness he knows is coming.

Regulus smacks him again across the same spot as before. “Don’t get greedy. You know how this works.”

James nods again looking at Regulus now. His pupils are absolutely blown and it’s all Regulus can think about. The desperate want in his eyes.

“Tell me,” Regulus instructs.

James rolls his eyes back as he starts to lightly circle his rim again.

“Words, James.”

“You’re in charge,” James breathes.

“And I can do whatever I want with you,” Regulus adds.

“Whatever you want.”

“Good boy.” Regulus pulls his hand away again, but James doesn’t get a chance to protest before it’s being pushed into his mouth. “Now suck.”

James moans around his fingers, hollowing his cheeks and making a show out of it. He knows this undoes Regulus every time, watching as he listens so well, follows every command. It’s a high he’ll be riding for the rest of rehearsal.

“That’s right baby, get them nice and wet for me,” Regulus praises, bringing his other hand up to grab at James’ hip, keep him from moving too much.

When spit starts to drip down his chin, Regulus pulls his fingers away, and the noise James makes is fucking filthy. A keen he’s sure the whole company just heard, and that just won’t fly.

Regulus moves his hand from James’ hip up into his hair, yanking him back until he’s hovering above the desk.

“James, what did I fucking say,” Regulus hisses. “Do you need something in your mouth? Hm? Such a slut for it you can’t follow simple directions?”

James moans loudly, a please falling from his lips somewhere in there.

Regulus releases him and he falls back onto the desk with a whine.

Going back around his desk, Regulus fishes through his bottom drawer with his clean hand, finding what he’s looking for. A dress code appropriate t-shirt he keeps for times like these, when James just can’t help himself. He shoves it in James’ mouth harshly then pats him on the cheek.

“There you go baby. Now you can tell me just how much you like it.”

And James does without a second thought, immediately filling the room with muffled noises.

Regulus resumes his position behind the dancer, running his spit-slick fingers against James’ hole.

“Ready?” He asks.

James is a mess, barely there at this point even though Regulus hasn’t even done anything, but he nods anyway, and Regulus pushes a finger in slowly.

“Always so tight for me baby.”

“Mmph,” James moans around the shirt. He tries to fuck his hips forward into nothing, desperate for some friction against his neglected cock, but Regulus holds him still. He should know by now that he’ll stay untouched until Regulus allows it.

Once he feels James is ready, he adds another finger, leaning down to spit into the place where they slide into James. He increases the speed, crooking them to brush the spot that reduces James to a moaning mess.

He sees James’ eyes roll back again as he makes a muffled sound, so debauched and fucked out already.

For the first time, Regulus notices his own wetness pooling in his briefs, but he ignores it. This isn’t about him.

“Can you be a good boy and take another,” Regulus asks, and James nods enthusiastically. If he wasn't gagged, Regulus knows he’d be begging, has heard it enough times to memorize the sound.

Regulus pulls out completely, watching James’ hole flutter briefly around nothing, before pushing three fingers back in.

James balls his fists against the desk, barely moving his hips, trying so hard to be good. Regulus decides to cut him some slack.

“Fuck yourself on them baby, it’s okay.”

James obeys immediately, pushing his hips back wildly and making ungodly sounds that he wishes he could hear unobstructed.

Caught up in the image of James losing control, Regulus reaches around to touch his neglected cock where it’s been leaking onto the floor. He collects the precome beading at the tip to soften the slide, and pumps James slowly in time with the movement of his hips.

“You close? Gonna come for me?” Regulus asks, sugar sweet.

James barely responds, but the crease between his eyebrows gives him away. Regulus knows it means he’s heading toward the edge of the cliff.

Quickly, before it’s too late, Regulus pulls his hand away, pulls his fingers out, leaving James empty and neglected once again.

He smacks James’s ass roughly, then digs his fingers into the flesh, punishing.

Leaning forward, he puts his mouth right up against James’ ear, “Only good boys get to come, James. I expect you back in rehearsal in five minutes wearing that shirt in your mouth.”

James sobs into the fabric, ruined and undoubtedly aching, and Regulus leaves him there to clean himself up.

Maybe this time he’ll finally learn his lesson.

#croptopjamesfest #jegulus #regulus black #james potter #regulus x james #james x regulus #starchaser #sunseeker #marauders au #marauders fanfic #jegulus microfic #sub james potter #dom regulus black #lane writes #microfic tag #dancer au

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priniya · 2 months ago

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ʚɞ harry potter masterlist

🪄 james potter

❝till forever falls apart❞ + ❝not mad anymore❞ — james wants to know if the cruel sister of his best friend is as cruel as sirius always says. it takes him a few detentions to break the cold façade of y/n black. + james holds a silent grudge against his best friends until he apologizes to potter’s girlfriend.

❝confession❞ — during a quick truth or dare game, james learns his girlfriend’s past and gets jealous.

❝sirius shouldn’t know❞ — being in a secret relationship with your brother’s best friend is hard, it gets harder when your boyfriend play-pretend with a girl he was obsessed with, unconciously making you jealous.

❝unspoken things❞ — james becomes head over heels for a girl he thinks sirius is in love with, or has history with at least. when she wants him to make a move, he takes a step back.

🪄 regulus black

❝something bad is bound to happen❞ — regulus’ girlfriend always seemed out of her mind, but attending a death-eathers meeting just to keep him protected is something he never thought would happen.

❝better than revenge❞ — after a fight with sirius, regulus is miserable and y/n malfoy takes it into her own hands to make sure her boyfriend’s brother knows his place.

🪄 theodore nott

❝end up here❞ — when cormac mclaggen puts his hands on you, something snaps inside theo and some time later you end up in his bathroom.

❝small worlds❞ — being an introvert pushed into a crowd of over extraverts isn’t what you imagined doing on a friday night. good thing that theodore nott seems to be the best extravert you could ever find to be around.

❝opposites attract❞ — theo nott finds himself enamoured with a weasley, and goddamn it, he cannot stop thinking about her, being as whipped as possible.

❝beautiful boy❞ — theodore gets jealous over your friendship with mattheo.

❝too many nights❞ — theodore nott spent too many nights, smoking and hanging out with matt’s little sister to not make her his girlfriend.

❝emotions❞ — theo never handled his emotions right, and when his girlfriend shows up in a wrong moment, things escalate and theodore doesn’t know how to fix it.

theodore nott headcanons!

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yallthemwitches · 24 days ago

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House Guest

“Potter—what are you doing here?”

“Happy Christmas! I know I could have waited until we got back to school but—”

His voice trailed off. What should he say? But I missed you? But I’ve been thinking about you night and day since the moment I met you? But we left for holidays just after you kissed me in the common room unprovoked and I really really would like to do that again?

Another extra fluffy, 6th year xmas fic for @jilytoberfest Day 8, Prompt “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime”

AO3 Link Here

James stood in the garden memorizing the wood grains of the Evans’ front door. He shifted his weight back and forth, hoping that his parasympathetic nervous system would kick in before he possibly made a complete ass of himself. Like a hum in his ear, Sirius’ voice pushed him on.

“Birds love surprises, Prongs—she’s gonna be chuffed.”

But then again how many times had he steered him wrong? A lot.

He closed his eyes, tight enough until it hurt and felt his hand hover over the door before making a few raps with his knuckles. Courageous…Gryffindor…not at all nutter behavior…

The door swung open. A girl older than Lily with mousy blonde hair stared up at him, mouth set in a frown.

“Yes?”

James cleared his throat. On a second scan of her face, he could see the same shape of almond eyes as Lily, same slender nose, like looking at some completely flawed interpretation of her.

“Uhm, Is this the Evans’ residence? I’m looking for Lily.”

The girl’s eyes narrowed, teeth clenching before slamming the door in his face, making his glasses go askew. James just stared back at the wood again, wracking his brain if Remus had ever mentioned very specific muggle etiquette for house calls.

He heard a shrill voice loud enough to pierce through the wall and the shuffle of bodies. The door reopened. It felt like one of those muggle style magic tricks he had seen on the Lupin’s TV once. Instead of the other girl, Lily stood in her place, all her features righted back to their natural form.

“Alright, Evans?” His hand jumped into his hair on instinct. Lily blinked at him, hand grasping the knob.

“Potter—what are you doing here?”

“Happy Christmas! I know I could have waited until we got back to school but—”

Instead, he didn’t say anything, opting to extend the gift he held against his chest towards her. Lily eyed it, then flitted her gaze back up to him. He tried his best smile, hoping she couldn’t tell that his confidence was waning the longer he stood on the stoop.

She ignored the gift, leaving her hand firmly on the door knob.

“How do you know where I live?”

James shifted again. He was hoping she wouldn’t ask—it was the part of this outing he wasn’t very proud of.

“I–uh.” He knew if it had been any other time he would have been able to think of a million lies that would have suited as a response. Instead, the truth fell out.

“I knew you lived in Cokeworth,” he began, “so I took Sirius’ motorbike here and—”

“Sirius’ what?”

Her arms were now crossed, incredulous.

“Can I explain that one later? That might take a bit more time..”

“Fine–so you came to Cokeworth.”

James sighed, his Gryffindor courage was not coming in handy.

“--So I came to Cokeworth and wandered around for a good hour until I found a bookshop–and I said to myself hey, Evans likes books—so I went in and I asked the bloke behind the counter if he had seen the most beautiful redhead to ever exist with an incredible pair of–”

“What the fuck, Potter.” She took an indignant step towards him.

“--pair of green eyes, Evans. I know I’m a randy teenager but cut me some slack…”

It shouldn’t have, but the rhythm of banter brought new life to him. He was starting to feel back to form, though still very much making a fool of himself on the stoop. Lily tried to say something multiple times, but clipped off her words with each attempt, completely flabbergasted.

“---but anyways turns out he did know you so here I am.” James finished his ramble, finding himself now rather pleased.

Lily looked at him for a while, eyes searching for some sort of answer he wished she’d just ask for. Finally, she let out a defeated sigh, stepping further out onto the stoop and a bit closer to him. She was only wearing a light sweater, and she wrapped her arms around herself to hold out the cold.

“I guess fighting you on this is useless.”

He could have been hallucinating, but a smile twitched on her face.

“So will you accept my gift?” It might have been snowing out, but he was starting to feel incredibly warm.

“I’ll accept your gift.”

Lily took the package, turning its bulbous shape in her hands. Some pink formed at her cheeks and her eyes flicked up to his before shucking off the wrappings. An ornate china teapot with etchings of leaves curling their way through wind scrawled around its base.

“Mum helped me pick it out–told her you were a fan of art nouveau. I charmed it so all you need to do is add water and it will automatically make your drink of choice—I couldn’t help but notice you have a whole beverage routine in your day.”

Lily twisted the pot in her hands, eyes soft and adoring.

“Beverage routine, you say?” An eyebrow disappeared up into her fringe.

“Well, sure,” he cleared his throat, “In the mornings you drink black tea with milk. To study you drink coffee–an espresso with foam if possible but black works too. When you read in the common room you like either mint or ginger tea depending on the season, and on the rare occasions I’ve seen you and Marlene put on a muggle film you have hot chocolate or cider.”

Lily looked up again, mouth slightly agape. James felt his confidence wane.

“--- not that I’m paying attention or anything.”

Lily burst out laughing, holding the teapot close to her body with two hands.

“You are an absolute nutter Potter, you know that?”

“I’ve actually been told I’m a pretty normal bloke until I’m around you.”

Lily dropped her gaze, her cheeks were burning from an equal mixture of laughter, embarrassment, and the cold.

“Thank you,” she stammered, “It’s incredibly sweet.”

A part of him wanted to start in on everything: ask why she had kissed him the night before holidays, demand to know where they stood or what to expect once they returned to school. Instead, he reached out a hand and placed it on her cheek, feeling the sting of the winter wind on her skin.

“You should go back in, it’s bloody freezing out here.”

He moved to drop his hand but she placed hers against it, leaning her cheek into the warmth of his palm. Turning her head slightly, she tucked her lips into his hand, cold lips pressing into calloused fingers.

“Have you had dinner?”

Her question zapped him back to reality. From the feel of her lips, he had been completely transported out of body, fighting all urges to curl his arms around her, kiss her like she had kissed him in the common room and then some, and wrap her inside his coat until all the cold melted away.

“Uhm, no I haven’t.”

She removed their hands from her cheek, and they dropped between them, fingers now interlaced.

“Would you-”

She didn’t even need to finish the question. He squeezed her hand and with a laugh she pulled them both through the front door, no longer cold.

#jilytober day 8 #jilytober fest 2024 #jily #james potter #lily evans #a rare xmas fic #(I've been rewatched the office and I feel like the Jim and Pam dynamic is rubbing off into these...)#jily fanfiction #marauders era #James being a cute idiot #james x lily #sixth year probably #the pining to dating era is so important I can't stop

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mybutcheredtongue · 9 months ago

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I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER ELEVEN (see full series list here)

1993

You find yourself sitting in the Tower again. You dangle a string of wool in front of Dubh and she joyfully bats at it with her front paws. You smile lovingly at her, chuckling when she misses the wool and lands on your knee instead. The sky above you has darkened, and you look out over the grounds.

It's the best view in the castle, of course. You get to see the near-entirety of the grounds in all its glory. The Black Lake is still and calm; the tree' leaves are swaying lazily in the light evening breeze; the dark, scruffy dog is pattering across the grass...

You blink, and the dog is gone. You sigh, falling back to the floor and lying down, staring up at the sky above you.

Twinkling lights dot the sky above you, winking at you. Part of you likes to think that those stars have souls. That they can see you right now, and are wondering why you're admiring them so much. To them, they're just balls of gas. To you, they're the most beautiful thing in the world.

You think on the day, remembering your visit to Hagrid early this morning. The poor man was in bits, all torn up over Buckbeak. Hagrid doesn't deserve such stress and worry, and neither does Buckbeak.

A few clouds are scattered around, passing over the bright, full moon. Your mind turns to Remus: he is no doubt sitting in his office right now, all wolfish, probably having a hankering for red meat. You offered to stay with him on full moons, but he refused. Despite the Wolfsbane potion allowing him to keep his mind during the transformation, rendering him harmless, he stipulated that he wanted to be alone, just in case something went wrong.

You don't want him to be alone, but you respect his wishes anyway.

You've known Remus is a werewolf for a very long time. You weren't even meant to find out about Remus' lycanthropy, but you used to get so worried about him at school. He was always exhausted, always disappearing on full moons, not eating well...it had gotten to the point where you cornered him in the library and expressed your concerns for him. You asked him to tell you what was wrong because you couldn't watch any longer, worried that something bad was keeping him up at night.

And, well, you weren't wrong. But he confided in you, just like he had his other friends, and from then on you did everything you could to help him. While the boys spent full moons with him, you ensured he got enough rest during the remainder of the month, made him his favourite teas, helped with keeping his secret secure...he became like a brother to you.

Your school days are something you treasure immensely. Everything was just so right. When you and Sirius starting dating Christmas of your sixth year, everything clicked into place. It felt like you had another family at Hogwarts.

You and Sirius whispered to each other during late nights in the common room, and you would trace the outlines of his tattoos as you listened to him talk.

You, Lily, and Alice shared things together that you never could share with anyone else.

You and Remus played chess with each other and always forgot about using strategy, instead choosing to just try and annihilate as many of the other's pieces as possible.

You and James played Exploding Snap, which always ended with the ends of his hair singed and him sulking when he lost.

You helped Peter prepare himself for his first date, making sure he was mentally ready and feeling confident.

Life was much simpler.

The clouds part and the moon reveals itself, casting a glow around it. In the distance, you hear a wolf howling, and for a moment you think it's Remus, before you shake your head. He's in his office, probably sleeping it off right now.

Speaking of sleep, you feel extremely comfortable where you are right now. You let your eyelids drift shut and fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

You wake some time later, the cold air nipping at your arms. You sit up groggily, yawning. You nudge Dubh and she wakes, getting up to follow you out of the Tower. As you're opening the door to your room, you realise you left your wand up there and quickly run back up the stairs to grab it.

You locate the item on your desk, stuffing it into your pocket, momentarily getting distracted by a scuff mark on the desk, wondering how that got there.

There's a heavy thud from the other side of the room.

You look up.

Your heart stops.

There, at the railing, is Buckbeak, Hagrid's giant Hippogriff. And on his back is Harry, Hermione, and...Sirius. He hops down, facing you.

You lock eyes and your name rolls off his tongue softly, and never has it sounded so perfect.

He's wearing shabby Azkaban clothes, which are ripped and tattered everywhere. His skin is dirty and his face is sunken with dark bags under his eyes. He's grown a beard and his hair has gotten even longer, but has become matted.

"Sirius?" you choke, frozen in place. "Are you really there?"

He nods, a small smile on his face. "Yes, my love. I'm here."

You take a tentative step forward, unsure really whether you are dreaming or not. The rational part of your brain is telling you to stop, to run in the other direction — this is a convict in front of you, after all!

But your heart makes all the decisions for you. It reaches out, desperately trying to get to its other half because truly, you were half a heart without him.

Your steps are slow and it feels like hours have passed before you finally stop in front of him. You hesitantly reach out, placing your hand against his chest.

"Please, tell me I'm not dreaming," you whisper.

Sirius brings his hand up to cover yours, moving it to press over where his heart is, where you can feel his racing heart beat. You can see a scar on his pinky finger, one he told you he got during a game of 'Pin the Tail on Kreacher' with Regulus when he was eight.

You feel tears prick your eyes, looking back into the face of the man you love more than anything in the world. You bring shaky hands up to his face, holding it delicately, like you're afraid he's going to break.

"I missed you," you say softly. "I missed you so much, Sirius."

"I missed you too," he replies. "How is it that you look just as beautiful today as you looked on our wedding day?"

You give a watery chuckle, sniffling. "Sirius Black, forever the flirt."

You lean forward and press your lips against his. This, this feeling. The overwhelming sense of feeling right where you belong, in the arms of the man you love. His lips are chapped but you don't care. His skin is rough but you don't care. His beard scratches against you but you don't care. You don't care about anything other than the fact that he's here with you. He's finally here.

"Please, darling..." he starts, taking a deep breath and gazing at you. "It wasn't me. I promise you with everything I have to give that I didn't kill those people, I was never a Death Eater — "

"I know."

" — I would never do that to James and Lily — "

"I know."

He pauses, looking at you in surprise. "You know?"

"I know, Siri," you say gently. "I believe you, I trust you. I know you. I've spent the last twelve years of my life believing you're innocent. I know you would never do that."

He opens his mouth to say something but can't seem to find the words. "You — you smart girl. My smart girl. My perfect, smart, beautiful girl..."

His eyes are brimming with tears as he keeps them fixed on you, before he pulls you into his chest and holds you tightly, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you. I love you. I love you so much," he says, kissing your cheek. "Going so long without you has been torture."

"It's been torture for me too," you reply. "I love you. I love you more than anything, Sirius." You smile at him before adding, "And you have seriously got to take a shower. Why don't you come down to my room and get all cleaned up?"

Sirius pulls away, giving you an uncertain look and you sigh. He glances back at Harry and Hermione, who you've pretty much forgotten are even there.

"We...don't have a lot of time left," Hermione says apologetically.

"I'm sorry, my love," Sirius says, pressing his forehead against yours. "I have to go."

You clutch onto his arms desperately, shaking your head. "No, no. You — you can't go. You can't leave me again, Sirius. No, please. Please. Please don't do this to me again. Why leave when I've just found you again?"

Tears stream down your face and Sirius reaches out to brush them away with his thumb. "I have to, darling. The Ministry'll be here any moment now, looking for me. I can't put you in danger like that."

"I'll come with you!" You try. "Please, we can go away together — we'll figure something out, just please, don't leave me again. I've been without you for too long, please — "

"I can't do that to you," he says weakly. "You have to stay."

"Sirius, please — "

"Stay," he says, kissing your forehead. "I'll find you again. I will always find my way back to you, no matter how far."

You let out a quiet sob and kiss him again, desperate for even the slightest bit of contact with him to remind you that you actually have him here with you.

"Please, darling. Stay here," he tells you firmly. "You'll be okay."

"I just — I've been waiting for this for too long," you say weakly. "I hoped I'd have you for longer."

He brings you hand to his lips, kissing your fingers lovingly. "I know, I know. We'll meet again and then — it'll be like I never left."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

He lets go of you, and it takes all of your willpower not to grab ahold of him again and never let go. Harry and Hermione jump off of Buckbeak, looking at each other awkwardly.

Sirius pulls Harry in for a hug, smiling proudly at him. "You are — truly your father's son, Harry."

Hermione looks at her watch nervously. "Quick, quick, you don't have time!"

Sirius takes one last glance back at you as he climbs up onto Buckbeak's back. He sends a wink your way and you shake your head amusedly, sighing.

He squeezes Buckbeak's sides with his heels. The enormous wings of the Hippogriff rise and you step back slightly, watching as it takes off into the air. Sirius and Buckbeak steadily become smaller and smaller until a cloud drifts past and...they're gone.

You swallow hard, sniffling as you brush tears off your cheeks. Before they can leave, you grab Harry and Hermione and pull them both in for a tight hug.

"Thank you, thank you both so much," you say. "You — you are the most wonderful children I have ever met — you brought him back to me, how did you ever do it? How can I ever thank you?"

"It's nothing, really — " Harry says sheepishly.

"Nothing? You have both just given me the best gift in the world," you say with a smile. Hermione is looking at her watch again and you let go. "Go, go on. You look like you have somewhere to be."

Hermione nods, grabbing Harry's arm and they turn to run down the stairs.

"Oh, and Harry!" You call after him. He stops for a second and you give him a smile. "Come find me when you have some free time. I'm sure you have a few questions to ask."

He nods affirmatively and they run off again.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"YOU!" Snape bursts into the Astronomy Tower, looking outraged. "You — what did you do?!"

You look up innocently from your desk, watching as Snape climbs to the top of the stairs, red-faced and angry. He's out of breath — you don't know if it's because he's angry or because walking up those stairs is about the most exercise he's gotten in a decade.

Behind him, comes Fudge and Dumbledore. Fudge is huffing and puffing, and when he reaches the top he lays a hand against the wall as he breathes in and out.

"You — you did something!" Snape snaps. "How else could he have escaped?"

"How else could who have escaped?"

"BLACK!"

"Well, I'd have a hard time getting him out of Azkaban, wouldn't I?"

Snape looks like he's about to burst. A vein is popping out in his neck and his eyes are bulging.

"HE — WAS — CAUGHT — AND — NOW — HE'S — GONE — "

"Wait, he was caught?" You ask, feigning oblivion.

Fudge nods. "Yes, we had caught him perfectly well...the Dementors were going to perform the Kiss — "

You slam your book down on the table, standing up from your chair, staring Fudge down. "Do you mean to say that the Dementors' Kiss was going to performed on my husband without my knowledge?"

Fudge visibly swallows, glancing at Dumbledore helplessly, who chooses to become fixated on one of the constellations on the wall.

"Well, er...we reviewed our options and seen that — um — we didn't have the time to inform you — "

"Bullshit," you spit. "You could have easily told me, you just weren't bothered, were you? Some Minister you are."

Fudge splutters, face going red.

Snape is still shaking with fury beside him. He jabs his finger in your direction. "YOU DID IT, I KNOW YOU DID — "

"That is enough, Severus. Why, the portrait of Eloria Floria in the corridor told us that she had not left the Tower since she first entered it three hours ago," Dumbledore says calmly.

Fudge glances at his watch. "Well, I suppose there is nothing more to it than that. I'd better go and notify the Ministry of this..."

Snape is seething. Absolutely seething. He gives one fuming look in your direction, before storming down the stairs once more. It's nearly comical because it's purely silent in the Tower but for the clunking of Snape's footfalls against the stairs, his anger evident in his heavy stomps.

It reminds you of a young child throwing a tantrum.

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twelve here!

sorry for the shortish chapter but I just really wanted to get this one out. They've finally reunited!!!

+ a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their support and kindness:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @carpe000diem @hyperspeedo

#sirius black x you #sirius black #angst #sirius black x reader #angst with a happy ending #fanfiction #the marauders #fanfic #harry potter #hp #marauders #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction

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marsconer · 2 years ago

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the summary of “the many wrongs and few rights of james potter/ the colossal mistakes and arduous redemption of severus snape ( wip )”

james, doing everything wrong: i’m doing it right?

everyone around him: yes, don’t worry about it.

severus snape: *exhausted eye twitch

did i just turned my rants into a character study fic idea? yes, yes i did. i don’t know who would read of this fic. james is an awful person for 90% of it. severus snape joins a cult and he should be aloud to snap, it’s half marauders and half snape’s little gang. james and severus dual pov as i force my foils agenda down y’all’s throat. the title is LONG. in summary they both made awful mistakes but they were kids and being a kid is awful, specially when there’s a war coming.

#the many wrongs and few rights of james potter #aka the most anti james james fic to ever exist #let severus say fuck #james potter #the marauders #anti marauders stan #james potter fanfic #he’s an asshole in this one but he’s trying his best #james potter slander but with love #aka i turned my rants into fanfics #snape’s gang #the colossal mistake and arduous redemption of severus snape #pro severus snape #pro snape #severus snape #young severus

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wordsarelife · 11 months ago

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DAY 7: PLEASE COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

pairing: regulus black x fem!potter!reader

summary: when everything gets too bad, regulus has to place to stay. james isn’t happy about that though.

warnings: mention of a bad home life

note: this was so fun to write hehe!!

you had told him to come home to you if it would get too bad. he had said no many times, just like you had repeated your offer. you wanted him to know that he was welcome. and if you had to say it to him every day, you would. you knew regulus had too much pride to take your help. he loved you and he wanted to keep you out of his problems.

the relationship to you was different to everything he had ever had in his life before. he didn't want to ruin it.

you were calm and a total sunshine, you didn't belong in a world full of death and fear. you didn't belong in his world. he knew that. but he still couldn't keep away from you. so he tried to hide most of his home life from your sight.

which was harder than he had anticipated, considering his brother was living with you now. seemed like james had made him the same offer.

one evening on which you repeated the offer, he had looked at you concerned. "don't do that" he had said "that hero complex will get you killed someday" he had brushed through your hair "it's not wise to help people like sirius and i in a world where humans are killing for all the wrong reasons"

he didn't want to talk about anything else after that so you had just watched him drift to sleep, wondering which horrible things were plaguing his mind.

then came the christmas holidays and you had to split up. you tried everything to convinve him, but he wouldn't budge, never giving you another reason than what he had said to you that night.

it was christmas eve, when the doorbell rang and james went to get it. "black?" he asked confused, when he was met with a crumpled version of his best friends younger brother "what in the world are you doing here?"

regulus ignored the question "is y/n home?" he asked instead. you had walked out of your room when you heard the doorbell and when you heard his voice, you had immediately started walking down the stairs.

"reggie" you said concerned. before anyone could say another word, you gently pushed james out of the way and hugged your boyfriend. you knew that something had to be really wrong for him to show up here.

“they found the letters” regulus whispered “they made me choose, i didn’t know what do to”

“it’s alright” you said, trying to comfort him.

"what the fuck?" james asked. he was still standing beside you both while neither one even acknowledged his presence. he pulled you back by your shoulder. “what is going on?”

“regulus needs to stay” you simply said, without taking your eyes from the boy. you had never seen him cry before, but there were evident tear stains on his cheeks.

“what?” james asked, acting like he hadn’t understood you “why do you even know each other?”

“we’re dating” you turned your head to look at your brother “can we go in now?”

james was so stunned from the new information that he didn’t even protest when you gently walked regulus into the house. he quickly gathered back his consciousness though. he closed the door and was hot on your heels. “i’m not sure mum would allow this”

“are you kidding me right now?” you pointed to the couch for regulus to sit down. then you walked back to james, talking to him in a harsh whisper “you brought sirius here and he was allowed to stay, why wouldn’t regulus be?”

“because sirius isn’t my boyfriend?” james asked like it was obvious, why your situation was different to his.

“close to it, no?” you crossed your arms in frustration “look at him, james” and james did just that “he has nowhere else to go. i offered him a million times to stay with us and he always said no, there must be something very wrong for him to show up here. you know how they are, you know it better than me, i only know a few things and it’s bad enough”

james eyes softened as he looked between you and the boy. “you love him, don’t you?” he asked and you nodded your head.

“don’t make him leave” you pleaded “i’d do anything”

you knew james acted like that to protect you. he didn’t know regulus as well as you did. only the things sirius had told him and his younger brother was far from a hero in that.

“let me help him” you pleaded once again, because james didn’t answer you.

james knew that the blacks were horrible and he knew that you had the same right to help someone close to you as he did.

“okay” he nodded, hugging you. you sighed in relief. james watched as you darted across the room, kneeling in front of regulus. you spoke to him fast, and he smiled softly at you. james knew in that moment, that regulus felt the same for you as you did for him.

“was that my package?” a voice from the door asked. james looked towards the entry of the living room and saw sirius, munching on a rather gigantic sandwich.

“no” james said “but i think it somewhat belongs to you”

sirius looked at the couch and his eyes grew big. you had sat down beside regulus and were gently rubbing his back, while his head was laying on your shoulder.

“whoa” sirius just said and made both you and regulus look up “seems like someone else has inherited that potter hero complex. they’re always trying to save us, aren’t they, reggie?”

regulus smiled at you “i’m glad they are”

you smiled back and all was well. “at least we’re together for christmas now” you whispered to him. and it took a moment but then he smiled, a big toothy grin and he looked more like himself again.

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @neewtmas @ahead-fullofdreams

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my-castles-crumbling · 4 months ago

Text

The Break-In

based on @dairekt-cat's request

"Alright," James grinned nervously. "Got everything?"

"Yup!" Sirius nodded, trying to act more confident than he actually was. They'd gone over the plan a million times, overpacked the backpack currently on his shoulders, and still he was anxious. SO many things could go wrong.

But ever the optimists, the two set out, throwing the Invisibility Cloak over their shoulders and making their way to the Visitor's Entrance of the Ministry of Magic.

"Fucking disgusting," James murmured after they both flushed themselves down the magical toilets, appearing in the Atrium.

It was crowded. The did their best to avoid bumping into anyone as they sulked through the huge room, but it was impossible, and Sirius's heart banged in his chest as they headed to the lifts, people turning to give their invisible bodies a confused look every once in a while.

When they finally made it on the elevator, they both held their breaths, praying someone would press the button for the correct floor, but to no avail. James shot Sirius a look, and he nodded, reaching forward and nudging the round button, making it glow as silently as possible, hoping nobody would notice.

But thank Merlin everyone around them seemed to be busy, complaining about being overworked. It was only when they reached floor 15 that the confused group looked around, searching for an occupant to exit when nobody was there. But Sirius and James were already gone, slipping through the closing doors, hands clasped around their panting mouths.

It was going so smoothly. They'd not needed any of the things they'd packed to distract or incapacitate, and Sirius hadn't even removed his wand from his sleeve. It was, in fact, too good to be true.

Because as they slipped into the door of the office they were targeting, the door closed much quicker than expected, snagging on the Cloak, pulling it off their bodies and causing their floating heads to appear in the middle of the room.

Right in the middle of Fleamont Potter's business meeting.

"Boys," Fleamont greeted them calmly, especially considering the chaos and screaming that had broken out around him. "What are you doing?"

"Erm," James grinned guiltily, nodding at a few of the Ministry officials he knew. "We were wondering if we could use the car."

The family car, a hobby of Fleamont's, was entirely Muggle, but James and Sirius had gotten in trouble for taking it out more than once and running over the neighbor's flowerbeds, resulting in Fleamont and Euphemia both keeping a set of keys on their person and charming the car to not start otherwise.

"James. Sirius," Fleamont sighed, looking tired. "Why didn't you ask your mother?"

"Well..." Sirius sighed, shifting from side to side. "She said no."

At this, half the room let out a laugh, and even Fleamont looked amused. "Go home, boys. We'll go for a drive later."

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shadowbriar · 2 years ago

Text

James Potter - Don’t Buy Me Flowers

Pairing : (F/M) || James Potter x Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : None I believe. Prompts : "I’d marry you right this instant.” Prompt request is still open. You can find the link to the prompt list here. Notes : Mixed this prompt request with the song Don’t Buy Me Flowers by Lolo Zouaï. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

James' eyes were glued on her. An unconscious smile decorating his face, cheeks slightly pink from admiration. She was sitting a few rows in front of him, giving him the safe distance to steal glances yet now have grown to rather resent the space between them.

Don’t ask him what happened cause he wouldn’t be able to piece the words together. She’s always been in his classes, after all. All James knew is that he couldn’t peel his eyes off of her now. As if she’s stunned him with a love charm or had spiked his morning drink with a love potion. He wouldn’t be complaining either way if such a scenario really did occur.

“Mr. Potter.” Professor McGonagall called for Merlin knows how many times. The only thing snapping him off of his daydream was a nudge from Sirius. James looked up, meeting the Head of Gryffindor’s eyes with a sheepish smile “Would you please tell the class exactly what I have explained for the last twenty minutes?”

James cleared his throat, being caught red handed now for not paying any attention, “I- Something about transfiguration?”

“Indeed.” Professor McGonagall said with a displeased tone “Perhaps if you would keep your eyes up front instead of gazing at your own peer, you could elaborate more than ‘something about transfiguration’.”

The whole class giggled, including her.

James, who was embarrassed of the stunt he pulled, now feels rather proud to have put a smile on her face. He grins as he steals a glance at her, hoping he doesn’t look as chaotic as the state of his heart at the moment. If only she knew she was the peer McGonagall was talking about.

The class continues with James who still couldn’t avert his gaze away from her. He watches her, mentally taking notes on the way she would tilt her head to the left when she’s trying to understand McGonagall’s words, or the way she taps her quill exactly three times on the inkwell before starting to write her notes, or the way she would mumble the words as she write on the parchment paper. Everything she does seems to be the most mesmerising thing James could ever witness.

Some time during the lesson, she turned to her shoulder for a brief moment. Their eyes met and she showed the slightest hint of smile before turning back to face McGonagall, afraid to put the boy in more trouble should she be caught. She didn’t know it then but those 7 seconds would serve as the blessings for his dreams to come. His heart swells, cheeks warm from the sudden rise of temperature around him.

“You might want to cover your face there, mate.” Sirius whispered “You’re looking as red as our house crest.”

“Shut up, Pads.”

—-

James huffed as he lifted the pot of Venomous Tentacula. A prank went wrong at the Greenhouses and just to his luck, or lack thereof, James was the only one caught of the four Marauders, earning him the punishment of cleaning up the mess and moving the plants from one Greenhouse to another. With every bead of sweat forming on his forehead, the vexation he has for his best friends only grows deeper. James couldn’t wait to get back to his dorm and hex each one of them.

Yet all the anger he feels evaporates to thin air as someone enters the greenhouse.

“Merlin!” She yelped, not expecting to meet someone “You scared me.”

James gulped, completely not believing his eyes. Perhaps the lack of food in his stomach has made him hallucinate. He’s been there working his arse since the sky was still bright, after all. There’s no way she would be here in the Greenhouse, especially at these late hours.

“Earth to Potter?” She says again, snapping her fingers “What are you doing here? Are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Yeah, right. I’m good.” He says fast, trying to compose himself as he dusts the dirt from his hands “Detention.”

She nods, “I see.”

“What are you doing here?” He asks this time, noticing a bouquet of flowers on her hands “Couldn’t be detention, I’m sure.”

“No, not detention.” She says with a smile, walking to the back of the Greenhouse to get an empty pot and some soil “I wanted to repot these flowers. Would be a pity to let them die.”

“But aren’t they already dead?” He asks with a raised eyebrow “I mean they’re cut from the stems, it’s only a matter of time till the petals dry and fall.”

“Well that’s why we’ve got wands, isn’t it Potter?”

James feels his cheeks heat up as he sees her smile. This is the most interaction they’ve had all year and exactly what did he dream last night to have such an opportunity to come? He could hardly remember the wrath he held to his friends nor the ache in his muscles after all these hours in the Greenhouse. A minute with her would do to charm his mood back to its default sunshine mode.

“A little bit of water and let’s hope these sweetness can survive.”

“What did you do?” He asks as he watches her water the pot now “With your wand and everything.”

“Some simple spell to help it grow its roots. They don’t always work so they would need extra care for the next few days.” She explains, eyes still glued on the newly planted flowers “I truly appreciate it when people would give me flowers, but I’d be lying if it doesn’t stress the living out of me.”

“You get plenty of flowers?”

“No, not plenty.” She answers with a smile “I’m not as lucky as Evans.”

James turns red. Just perfect. The girl he’s madly in love with now just has to know about his past failed attempts for his past crush. Well of course she knew, the whole castle knew just how big of a fool he was last year to have chased for the redhead’s attention. If only he could turn back time and slap his own self to sense.

“Well, I better get going now.” She says as she walks herself outside, smiling “I’ll see you around, Potter.”

—-

James waited in the Greenhouse with a smile plastered on his face. The plan was in motion. A whole week has passed and she hasn’t realised that he was the culprit responsible for placing a bouquet on her dorm every single morning.

It all started when the urge to kill the flowers she planted that night brewed inside his heart. The said plant was thriving in its pot, colours of its petals were vibrant and the leaves were the greenest he’s ever seen in a plant. Part of him was impressed at her skills for reviving it, but a bigger part of him hoped that she wasn’t as proficient because then she had no reason to come to the Greenhouse.

And that means no 10 minute lovely chats at night.

He wanted to ruin the innocent plant, rip its leaves or simply knock it off of the table but he couldn’t bear imagining the sad and disappointed look on her face when she finds out her plant has been messed with. Would she be able to forgive him if she knew he was the one responsible for such a catastrophe? No, he couldn’t take that much of a risk, not with the limited interaction they have just yet. He wouldn’t want to gamble their delicate relationship, his heart wouldn’t be able to survive if she ended up hating him.

So he decided to take the lighter way, to give her just a light stress that would hopefully turn into a blissful exchange for the both of them. He knew that she could revive the flowers, there’s really nothing to lose to his scheme. One of these days he hoped that he could make her fall for him, make her see that he’s not that bad of a lad to date.

“Evening.” She greets, breaking his train of thought as she enters the Greenhouse “You’re still here.”

“Yeah,” James answers shyly, lifting the pot of Screechsnap he was holding “Still moving these pots from one place to another.”

“I never knew the Professor was one to hold grudges.” She says as she walks to the other side of the Greenhouse “Most of the time students would only get a three day detention, a week at top. Yet you’re still here after, what, two weeks?”

James’ cheeks were warm. Truth be told his detention has ended days ago but he can’t really tell her that now, can he? Where else would they have their pleasant exchange if not here at the Greenhouse?

“Here to pot another flower?” He asks instead, trying to divert the discussion “You’ve been getting a handful of them lately.”

She looks down to the bouquet of flowers in her hands, smiling lightly, “Yeah, I wonder who they’re from. The sender never left any note so there’s no telling who my secret admirer is.”

“Is that so?” He says, faking an intrigued expression “So you have no idea who it is?”

She shrugs as she puts the flowers to the pot, starting her spell, “I have some possible names.”

“Names?” James raised his brows “How many possible lads are there?”

“What, you think you’re the only one with quite a fanclub?” She teases, smiling at him with such mischief “You’re not the only beautiful person in this castle, Potter.”

The boy went quiet. He knew that his face was red. He tried to calm himself, tone down the fast beating of his heart but what exactly can he do when she just complimented him? She did say that he’s one of the beautiful people in the castle. How does she not expect him to have his stomach flipped in giddiness?

“I have to say, though,” She continues “I wish that this person would just come forward or maybe give me a note on their flowers. Trying to revive them stresses me out. I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I fail.”

“Come on, you’ve successfully revived each one of them. Surely the bliss of getting flowers overcomes the stress of reviving them.”

She shrugs, “Perhaps.”

He watches as she tends her flowers, watering each of them as she hums to some song. James could feel his heart swells tenfold, threatening to explode in bliss. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact of how blind he had been to only just noticed her. Merlin knows just how much he regrets not getting to know her sooner. Imagine the much time he could've saved had he known her since first year. They would have already been married by now.

James had never tried to impress anyone as much as he’s tried with her. He even checked out the thickest herbology book from the library, just so he could find a topic to talk with her. Though when the time comes, it only further proves his limited knowledge of such a topic as she keeps on correcting his faulty trivias. At least he made her laugh. A win is a win, he reckons.

“Did you know,” James began to speak, making her look up and face him with a smile “That Niffler’s Fancy was once used in replacement to coins due to its gleaming copper-like leaves?”

She shakes her head, “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Is that information credible?” She asks with a giggle, placing the watering can down “Because last time you told me Belladonna was used by ancient wizards to help with stomach problems when in fact, the plant is poisonous for human consumption.”

James smiles sheepishly, “That one was a mere human error, this one was real. I read it earlier in one of Remus’ books and even wrote it down on my palms, see?”

She walks closer to him, taking his hand and reading the writings on his palm. James had never felt such intense sensation than when their skin met in contact. She was oblivious to the frivolity he was in, as always, which in a way is a good thing because he wouldn’t want to weird her out with his heavy feelings for her. James has always been known to be a very expressive person when it comes to his feelings and oftentimes it only causes discomfort to the other party. He’s never been good at hiding his emotions, he was born to love proud and aloud, James Potter.

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to give this one trivia the benefit of the doubt.”

James nods, agreeing with her.

“You know, since you’re so full of herbology knowledge,” She says teasingly “Why don’t you come and help me tutor the second years this weekend? I’m sure those kids would flip to know that James Potter is not only skilled at the quidditch field but that he also has a charming wit.”

James had to bite his lip hard to suppress himself from combusting. The compliments she’s throwing at him tonight, though served in a casual and probably meant nothing for her, was making him fly through the clouds. Couldn’t she tell that he’s going mad?

“Sure, of course!” He answered cheerfully, nodding eagerly like a puppy “I’ll see you then.”

—-

Watching her with heart eyes, James wasn't sure what his hands were doing to the Mandrakes. Honestly he couldn't care less. In fact, he hoped to ruin them somehow and receive another detention. Anything just so he could spend more time with her. Well not precisely with her, seeing that their interaction is still as limited as ever, but close enough to study her. That much would suffice for his throbbing heart for the moment.

"You're going to have yourself killed if you continue picking their leaves like that." She commented with a giggle "If the Professor knew you're harming their precious plants, they'll have your head."

James grins, amused, "Will you tell them that I'm the culprit?"

"Maybe."

She walks past him with a teasing smile, a pot of Fluxweed plant on her hands. James could catch a sniff of her perfume, something he always craved to smell each morning when he woke up. His eyes were trained on her, not even trying to make it subtle as he grins even wider whenever she catches him staring. She would only shake her head, biting in the smile that’s threatening to decorate her face. James could only hope that he’s not making her uncomfortable with his apparent affection.

He should have known that going to help her tutor the second years would only be the death of him. There would be no way out of these feelings for the years to come, he’s sure of it. Watching her patiently explain and help the kids to take care of the plants only made him fall deeper into her magnetism. He couldn’t help but to think of how wonderful of a mother she would be.

The mother of his children, he hopes.

James blushes at the thought. How could he imagine having a family with her when he hasn’t even gathered the gut to ask her out? Compared to his previous attempts with Lily, James has been much more quieted down. He figured that one of the reasons he failed on his last endeavours was because of his strong and blatant ventures. Sirius says that girls like her would prefer boys who are more discreet, who would approach in the most gentle and soft way that made her heart flutter. And who best would understand girls, and boys, if not Sirius?

“You’ve been awfully quiet.” She remarks, staring at him with an apologetic smile “I’m sorry if the tutoring bores you.”

He gazes back at her eyes, feeling drowned in the alluring force that made him blurt out his mind, "I’d marry you right this instant.”

She blinks, looking baffled at his sudden confession.

“I- I mean-”

“We are only seventeen, you silly!” She giggles, playfully pushing on his arm “Besides, we can’t get married. Even if I wanted to.”

James frowns, the slight heartbreak evident on his face, “Why not?”

“Because of my secret admirer.” She answers with a teasing smile “Unless you’re that boy that has been sneaking into my dorm each morning to give me flowers, I don’t think it would be fair for us to get married.”

His expression changed to a sheepish one, biting the grin on his face, “How long have you known?”

“Since the third flower. You think I wouldn’t notice the cut plants at the back of the Greenhouse?” She replies with a smile “Also the Professor told me your detention was over weeks ago. You really had no reason to stick around at night unless you had other intention than to move pots around.”

“I wanted to buy you flowers, truly.” He confesses, feeling embarrassed about the lack of effort “But getting to Hogsmeade daily was quite a bit of a task.”

“No, please don’t buy me flowers.” She says fast “They’ll only give me headaches.”

James nods, smiling as he walks closer to her and places his hands around her waist.

He studies her face, finally getting the opportunity to see her up close. Godric, just how beautiful can someone be? Everything about her just bewitched him completely. For once he finally could see that the heart eyes he had been throwing at her was not one sided. She too is drowned in the pool of admiration for him.

“So are you going to kiss me, or-”

James didn’t let her finish, pulling her for a sweet kiss. The moment their lips met, he could physically hear the wedding bells ring in his ears. He’s finally met her, the one he would spend the rest of his life with. And thank Merlin that they met at such a young age because this means that they could spend more time together, just the two of them.

“I hope you know how to cure headaches,” James says as they break the kiss “Because there wouldn’t be a day where I wouldn’t shower you with flowers from now on.”

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