whimsymoonpages

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 17. three's company, four's a complication

cw: anxiety, emotional confrontation, vulnerability, poly relationship tension, healing conversation, they finally fucking talk and reader can chill out, love

when you walk through the door, the first thing you hear is sirius' voice, low but seething.

"where the hell have you been?"

you freeze, the weight of your hangover still lingering on you, but it's nothing compared to the weight of the anger in sirius' tone. it's as if the air's been sucked out of the room, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of everything. the way your shoes scrape against the floor, how the front door shuts with a little too much force.

"what?" you ask tiredness in your voice betraying you. "i'm sorry i didn't tell you guys i was going out. didn't think it mattered much." you trail off, shrinking in on yourself. 

sirius's face reddens, his jaw clenching as he steps toward you. "don't act like that. we were scared half to death! we didn't know where the hell you were, and you just—" he cuts himself off with a frustrated growl, shaking his head. "did you think we weren't gonna worry about you? you're delusional."

the words sting more than you care to admit, but you're too emotional to back down now. you feel your blood boil as you snap, "maybe i needed some space. ever think of that, sirius?"

sirius's eyes narrow, and that's when you realize he's not going to back off either. "oh, so now you're mad at me for worrying? for caring about you?" he barks, his voice rising. "you've had plenty of space, all we give you is space!"

"i'm not a child, sirius!" you shout back, your fists balled at your sides. "you don't get to control me. i don't owe you an explanation, or any of you, for that matter!"

you can feel the room closing in as the shouting match intensifies. your heart's racing, anger and hurt flooding through you, every word a lash of frustration and confusion. you can see the same emotions mirrored on sirius's face, and before you can say another word, you spin on your heel and storm off toward your room.

the door slams behind you, but it doesn't drown out the sound of sirius shouting your name.

you don't care.

the tears start falling the moment you shove your backpack onto your bed. your hands shake as you start grabbing whatever clothes you can find. the weight of everything you've been feeling crashes over you. the confusion, the pain, the loneliness. you can't think straight, can't see straight, just grabbing clothes, stuffing them into the bag like it might make everything go away.

"this is stupid," you whisper to yourself, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. "this is all so stupid. and i'm stupid, too."

you hear footsteps outside your door, and then the sound of it creaking open. remus stands there, brow furrowed, a look of concern mixed with confusion on his face. he glances at you, at the bag in your hands, and then to the mess of clothes scattered on the floor.

"what's going on?" his voice is gentle, but you can hear the unease there. he must've heard the yelling.

you don't respond immediately. you just keep packing, shoving the clothes in, biting your lip so hard you taste the metal of your teeth.

sirius' voice cuts through the tension. "you're not just gonna run away, y/n."

you spin around, your eyes wide with disbelief. they're both standing in the doorway now, sirius with crossed arms and remus with his hands out, the same way you put them out when in the graphorn pen. "like you care," you bite out, tears falling faster now. "don't tell me what i can or can't do!"

remus steps into the room, his voice much quieter now, trying to de-escalate the situation. "hey, hey, let's all calm down," he says, looking from you to sirius. "what happened?"

sirius glares at you, his voice tight with anger. "she thinks she can just disappear without telling anyone. we were worried sick about her."

you scoff, still fighting the tears. "right, you were worried. it's all about you guys, huh? always is."

you're standing there, heart pounding, breath coming in uneven gasps as you shove more clothes into your bag. everything's a blur. all you can feel is sirius' anger, remus' calm, and the constant ache in your chest. then, you hear it. the front door opening, followed by the sound of boots clattering against the floor.

"GUYS, I DID THE CRAZIEST THING TODAY—"

james's voice cuts off abruptly as he walks down the hall, his usual exuberant energy disappearing the second his eyes land on you. he freezes in the doorway, his mouth falling slightly open when he sees the storm raging between you, sirius, and remus.

"oh," he says, eyes flicking to the tears streaming down your face, then to sirius, who looks like he's about to explode. remus is grimacing, arms crossed, clearly caught in the middle of a mess.

the tension in the air thickens as james takes a cautious step toward you, his usual bravado fading into concern.

"y/n, wheeze," james says softly, his hand reaching out toward you as if he's trying to soothe the situation. "hey, it's okay."

"don't." you snap, taking a step back, eyes wide with a mix of hurt and frustration. "don't touch me as if this is just some stupid misunderstanding. like i'm part of...."

you trail off, not able to finish what you were about to say.

you can see the shock on james's face, his hand freezing in mid-air. it's not like him to back down so quickly, but the weight of your words seems to hang heavy in the air between you.

sirius' fists are clenched, his jaw tight as he watches the exchange, but he's staying quiet, simmering just beneath the surface. remus steps in, his voice quieter, more controlled, trying to defuse the situation.

"y/n, please tell us what's going on. why are you packing?" remus asks, looking at you with that familiar, soft concern. you don't even have the energy to look at him properly; all you can do is keep your eyes fixed on your bag as you start zipping it up with shaky hands.

"i'm leaving. i don't belong here. not anymore. maybe i never did." the words tumble out before you can stop them, the floodgates of your emotions finally breaking. you're sure you sound crazy now. "i've been so... so stupid, thinking i could have something with you... but of course you're all already in your happy little relationship! you don't want me, never did."

the silence that follows is deafening. your breath catches as you look up, feeling like you've just exposed everything...your feelings, your confusion, your heart. it's out in the open. nice.

james steps forward, his expression going from concern to something unreadable. "wait, wait... what? you—" his voice falters for a second. "what?"

"d'you...d'you like us?" remus asks softly, his eyes filling with something unreadable.

you stare at him, feeling a knot tighten in your throat. "of course i do! but it's not like you'd ever feel the same. look at us, rem! look at me. i'm a mess. i'm a girl! i don't even belong in this equation. james with his perfect hair, you with your smart guy thing, and sirius...the bloody best friends brother."

sirius' voice breaks through, his anger from before now replaced with something much softer, almost like realization. "wait a bloody minute—this is what this is about? you thought we wouldn't want you?"

remus looks between you and sirius, finally speaks up. "y/n, we didn't know. we...none of us knew. i thought you were, i dunno know, not interested." his voice falters slightly, confusion and concern mixing in his gaze.

james, still processing, finally steps toward you, his voice hesitant but full of warmth. "y/n, after everything with our friends, with the distance, with things moving so fast and then stopping so abruptly, i—wait. what do you mean it won't work because you're a girl?!"

you meet his eyes, the weight of your emotions threatening to break you. "you're all gay, aren't you?"

sirius chokes on his own spit, remus' ears turn bright red, and james can only stare at you. "i...no. we are not all gay."

"only sort of gay, i s'pose." remus mutters.

"what, you've been thinking we were some secret gay club this whole time?" sirius says incredulously. you nod, looking sheepish, and sniffle. "y/n! are you daft!? the only reason i even thought about any of them in that way was because of you!"

"i turned you gay?" you whimper.

"NO!" the boys all but shout. they look at each other, as if impressed that they did that in sync.

remus grabs your hands, and your eyes widen. they're rough, but warm. "you came here, and you made this house a home. you made us food, you plated games, you decorated, you took care of us in ways we had never been cared for before...especially me. and in doing so, you made all of us better people. it was easy then," he looks you in your eyes now. "to become better people. and then when things happened with your friends and ours, when we got all wonky and distant..."

james picks up from where remus left off. "we noticed each other differently than we had before. we were just best friends for so long, and then it was like, all of a sudden there's this possibility of more. so really, you've always been part of it."

"even when you thought we weren't interested in women," sirius says, teasing though still angry. "for the record, i've always thought you were the most beautiful girl on the planet. even when we were kids."

you blink at sirius, stunned, your heart thudding in your chest as the realization begins to settle in. "wait...so this whole time? all of you were...into me?"

the three of them exchange a look, and you feel like you're being hit by an avalanche of new information, none of it quite making sense yet. remus gives a small nod, a quiet smile playing at the corner of his lips. "yeah, lovey. we've been into you for ages, since you got me all those potions."

"we've never wanted to make you feel like you don't belong," remus adds softly, his grip on your hands tightening a little, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that sends a shiver down your spine. "We never meant for it to be this complicated."

you pull your hands away gently, wiping your face again of the tears. you feel a mix of frustration and relief now, all the emotions bubbling up in a way that feels too big for your chest. "i've been so stupid. i thought...i thought i a the problem. like I didn't fit in anywhere here. now—" you take a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. "now I just feel more confused."

sirius steps forward, his voice softer now, less angry but still tinged with that intensity he always seems to carry. "you're not a problem, y/n. you never have been. we were the ones not being clear. we should've been honest with you from the start of all this."

"we definitely should've said something before it all got so messy," james chimes in, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "but, y'know, it's hard to figure out how to bring it up when it's not exactly simple."

"we're already a unit," remus speaks, low and firm. "but you're not just an afterthought in that unit, y/n. you are not a problem. you are someone we've all cared about for a long time. you're the reason we are together! and we wanted you to be a part of it, but we didn't want to rush you."

"plus, you've got the brains and beauty thing going," sirius adds, winking at you in that teasing way of his, though there's a sincerity in his gaze. "and you're the one who managed to make us all actually work together. that's how it all started."

you feel your heart skip a beat, but it's not from fear anymore. the words are too much to absorb all at once, but there's a part of you that starts to believe them, despite how overwhelming it all feels.

"so you've always liked me? all of you?" you ask, the words feeling so foreign on your tongue. 

"yes," remus says, his voice soft and reassuring. "we didn't know how to make it clear. but we all want you in a way that's more than just us being together."

you take a slow breath, your mind still reeling, but you can feel a shift in the air. you feel like you might actually be able to believe it this time. these are not just words. they're real. and there's something about the way they're looking at you now that tells you they mean it.

"barty's not gonna believe this."

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 16. on a scale from 1 to disaster?

cw: anxiety, vulnerability, heartbreak, heavy emotions, drunkenness, self-doubt, supportive friendship, barty is the best person ever (but where is reggie why is he so absent...)

the room feels like it's spinning. maybe it's the alcohol, maybe it's the fact that everything feels like too much right now, but there you are, clinging to barty's shirt, sobbing into his arms like your life is over. in reality, it's just your feelings being absolutely wrecked by the fact that, apparently, james, sirius, and remus are in a beautiful bloody relationship.

"i'm so dumb," you sob, voice muffled by the fabric of barty's shirt. "i'm such an idiot! how could i have a crush on all of them at once? they don't even want me! i'm so stupid!"

barty pulls you back a little, his hands on your shoulders, looking down at you with a deadpan expression. "you dirty dog, all of them at once!" he jeers, not even hiding his grin.

"i'm knowww! i'm ugly!" you shout, cutting him off with more wailing. "and they're all gay, barty! and they have each other! why would they want me when i'm just... this?" you gesture wildly, like it's all so obvious to anyone with half a brain. even still, you look great. barty doesn't see a problem. "i have a missing part!"

barty stares at you for a moment, processing, and then raises an eyebrow. "a missing part? sweetheart, just because you don't have a willy doesn't mean they won't like you. plus, if they're all willing to date two people right now, who's to say they're not willing to date three?"

you sniff, wiping your nose dramatically on his sleeve, and then shake your head, even more distraught. "they don't want me. they're not like that, barty. they just think i'm—"

you cut yourself off with another wail. you shouldn't have drank as much as you did, but who was barty to deny you this? in a time of peril especially. you stare up at him through bleary eyes, his grin still present but a little softer now. "junior, they don't want me," you mutter. "they're happy. and i'm just..." you gesture to yourself again. "y.n fawley. the fool who moved in with them."

"well, maybe 'the fool who moved in with them' is exactly what they needed," barty says, shrugging. "but you won't know if you don't ask, will you?"

you open your mouth to argue, but then you deflate with a long, exaggerated sigh. "i'm a mess," you whisper, eyes welling up again. "i'm really, really, really a mess."

barty just pats your back, giving you a soft, almost pitying smile. "yeah, but you're my mess."

and for some reason, that makes you cry even harder.

after a moment, you catch your breath. your hair is sticking to your face, and the dried tears on your skin itch. you feel selfish. you feel bad. you have to deflect, you decide.

"how'd your date go, b?" you ask in a slur of words. you look up at him from your spot on the floor. he's still sort of holding you in the way he has so many times before. "i bet your love life is better than mine, ay?"

he inhales a breath. "come on the balcony with me? need a cigarette to talk about that bird."

you follow him out, stumbling over your own feet. the poor bloke lights his cigarette and takes a long drag.

"so, first of all," he continues, "the waiter—this bloke—comes over, and he's got this ridiculous mustache, like he stepped out of an old detective book. and i mean, this thing was way too much,"he says as he has bright green streaks in his hair, an eyebrow piercing, and shitty tattoos littering his skin. "i don't even know why he thought it was a good idea, but there he is, looking like he's ready to crack a case about missing dragons or something."

you try to stifle a laugh, but barty keeps going, completely unfazed by his own shame.

"so i start talking, y'know? cracking a couple jokes to break the ice. i go on about my dad's stupid obsession with collecting antique goblets, thinking she'll laugh, right? instead, she just kind of... stares at me. stares like i'm the one who's just told her i was planning on running for Minister for Magic or something. little does she know, that's all barty crouch senior."

you try to hold it together, but you can't help it. barty's ridiculousness is getting to you. you let out a cackle of a laugh and smack your hands over your mouth to conceal it. maybe if you were sober this wouldn't be so funny.

"so then we get to the main course," he grins, "and i, of course, order the most expensive thing on the menu. i have no idea what it even was, but it looked fancy. y/n, i shit you not it tasted like burnt toast with something weird and creamy on top. she asks me if i like it, and i'm trying to act all cool, so i'm like, 'yeah, it's sophisticated.' i'm choking on it, nearly dying, and she's just looking at me like i've lost it."

you're cracking up now. "i can't believe you said that," you snicker, and barty just shrugs like it's no big deal.

"i know, i'm an idiot. but that this rate, i know the date's gone in the bin, so i'm just having a bit of fun," he admits, rolling his eyes. "so, i end up spilling my drink all over her lap. the poor girl, right? she's sitting there, soaked, and i'm just...smooth with my charming self. i'm an absolute wreck."

you're struggling to catch your breath from laughing too hard. barty's face gets more amused by the second.

"to top it all off, i try to salvage the evening by inviting her for a walk. a walk, can you imagine? i get all deep and start talking about my 'grand ambitions' like i'm some dark and brooding wizard, and she's looking at me like i've lost my mind."

barty leans back, satisfied with the retelling. "she definitely didn't need to run anywhere—she left before i could even finish my drink. went from 'hey, i'm having a good time' to 'oh, i've got an early morning.'" he shrugs, almost impressed with how poorly it all went. "but truthfully, i've never been so glad to see someone leave."

you're still laughing, wiping away a tear. "barty, you're a disaster. your disaster might beat out my disaster."

he grins, and takes a long drag from his cigarette. he blows the smoke in your face and smirks when you scrunch up your nose. "i'm not sure about that, lovely. at least my date only involved two people."

"you always know how to make me feel better, b."

when you wake up the next morning, you groan as you realize you're still on barty's balcony. the cool air nips at your skin, but it's the headache that’s really making you wish you’d stayed asleep. your head feels like someone’s been using it as a drum, and your stomach is doing some weird dance of its own. you sit up slowly, trying not to disturb the peace of the balcony...mostly because you’re fairly sure you’ve made a fool of yourself. 

you glance to your side and see barty, still passed out in a lounge chair, one leg hanging off awkwardly, his shirt wrinkled, and his hair a complete disaster. 

you squint at the time on your watch, late morning, and you really should be getting home. but that’s not happening anytime soon, not with the state you're in. not with the way your heart is still a bit tangled up with your drunken confessions from last night.

you push yourself off the chair, groaning as your legs protest the sudden movement. you shuffle quietly to the edge of the balcony, looking down at the garden below, and the peacefulness of it all only makes your feelings feel heavier. stupid, you think, so stupid.

“you’re awake, too, huh?” barty’s voice interrupts your thoughts, and you freeze. you turn around slowly, expecting him to be smirking, or maybe rubbing his eyes and acting all smug. but no, he’s just sitting up, wiping his face like he’s equally as wrecked as you are.

“well, not exactly,” you mumble, rubbing your temples, still feeling the effects of last night’s emotional rollercoaster. “i was hoping i could sleep through this hangover.”

"you were hoping you'd sleep so you don't have to go back home," he reads you as he leans back, propping his feet up on the railing. "if you're gonna make a decision about those three, i'm glad you didn't make it while you were half-drunk and crying on a balcony. that's just bad form, mate."

he lights a cigarette and mutters, "breakfast!"

“thanks for the advice, barty, seriously. all you do is save my arse,” you sigh, the words feeling like a weight in your chest. "but seriously, i don’t even know if they care like that."

he blows out a cloud of smoke, watching it disperse in the morning air. "well, here's a thought: if they don’t care, that’s their loss. but if they do, you’ll be the one who gets to make the choice. not them. you."

you look at him, surprised by the blunt honesty. it’s not often barty says something that actually makes you feel a little less like you’ve made a huge mistake.

“you really think they’ll care?” you ask quietly, the doubt still lingering in your voice.

“you and i both know they'll care, lovely,” barty scolds you slightly, tapping the ash off his cigarette. “maybe they’re just waiting for you to say something. maybe they don’t know what they want yet. i mean, how the hell would they? it’s all a bit of a mess. three boys? specifically those three boys? salazar save us. ”

you exhale a laugh. you lean your elbows on the railing and stare up at the sky. “so, what? i just... do something? like, ask them?”

“yeah, why not?” barty shrugs, taking one last drag of his cigarette before tossing it to the ground. “worst case, you end up in another mess. best case, you figure out where you stand. at least you won’t be sitting here wondering, ‘what if? am i really ugly? or am i just a git?’”

now, a small smile tugs at your lips. “i might need another drink to process all this."

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 15. things are getting heated in the villa

cw: anxiety, feelings of exclusion, emotional overwhelm, unrequited feelings, social tension, subtle heartbreak, awkward social dynamics

y/n needed to relax. work had been rough that week, as someone had dumped a litter of kneazles over the fence, and of course they needed taking care of. she sent one home with barty, who immediately named the tiny thing the ripper.

"it's the perfect name for a killer!" barty cackled as he lifted the poor thing up into the air. you scoffed at him and yelled for him to put it down.

mistake number one: giving barty the kneazle.

that in itself was enough to get you wound up tight. plus, you could hear the boys talking in the living room. you roll over in your bed and sigh, staring at the moving picture of you and regulus. he hasn't answered your owl yet today, which probably meant he was brewing some important potion.

"weasellll," a voice drags from down the hall. that blasted nickname.

"siriiiii," you sing back, not moving from your spot on the bed.

"what you doin', lovely?"

"laying down comfortably on my bed with no plans to get up!"

you hear his barking laughter, and then the thumping and scratching of doggy paws on the floor. you brace yourself, but still yelp when sirius, now padfoot, launches himself into your bed.

sirius wriggles around on your bed like he's trying to dig to the center of the earth. his heavy paws dig into your blankets, his wet nose presses against your cheek, and you groan, trying to push him off.

"padfoot, get off," you grumble, but it only makes him more determined. he barks loudly, wagging his tail so hard that it's a miracle the bed isn't shaking from it. "pads, noo!" you shout, laughing as he continues to ignore you, happy as a clam in his four-legged form.

from down the hall, you hear the faintest groan, followed by a louder, more dramatic, "what is wrong with you?! you can't just jump onto her bed like that!"

james appears in the doorway, looking slightly horrified, but also trying not to laugh. "i swear to merlin, sirius!"

"can a girl never get any peace?" you mutter, half-annoyed but mostly amused as padfoot rolls over on his back, belly up, waiting for belly rubs.

"look at him," james grins, shaking his head. "he's spoiled, that's what he is."

padfoot lets out a happy little whine, rolling around like a maniac, and you can't help but laugh. you reach over to scratch his belly, and he stretches out, his paws in the air as he makes a happy sound in his doggy throat.

"alright, alright, you've won me over, you big idiot," you murmur to padfoot. "would this be weird in human form though?"

sirius transforms back and lays on his back. "why don't we see?"

"you're an absolute menace," you chuckle, smacking a pillow on his belly.

before he can retort, remus walks into the room, looking uncharacteristically pleased with himself.

"looking nice, moony," james says sweetly as he reaches out to touch remus' sweater. the latter boy swats his hand away.

"you're coming with us tonight, right, lovely?" remus asks as he straightens his hair in your mirror and smoothes out his sweater,

"erm," you start, your eyebrows creasing. "to where?"

"to marlene's for trivia!" sirius bounces on your bed, looking at you from his spot on your bed. he's upside down from your point of view.

"i wore my nicest sweater thinking you were coming with us," he says with a mischievous smile, tugging at the edges of his worn-out cardigan like it's a fashion statement.

james, ever the drama king, follows it up immediately. "and he ironed his socks!" he gestures wildly toward remus's feet, where perfectly pressed socks peek out from under his shoes.

you can't help it. you burst into laughter, clutching your stomach as you wipe tears from your eyes. remus's face flushes, a quiet smile breaking through as he holds his arms up, feigning innocence.

"is that your invitation?" you tease, still chuckling.

"it's the invitation," remus says, nodding sweetly. "but only if you promise to appreciate the effort."

you sigh dramatically, already feeling like the tension in your body is easing. or is it growing? you'd never know. "fine, fine. but i'm only going because i can't let you suffer in that sweater alone."

"nobody will suffer," james says with a grin. "it'll be fun! and if it's not, we stare at moony's sweater all night."

"i didn't even know i was getting this much attention for my sweater," remus mutters, shaking his head, a small grin on his lips.

"you're getting it for everything, mate," sirius says, collapsing next to you on the bed, ruffling your hair with one hand. "the sweater's just the cherry on top."

you get up from the bed, stretching as you head for your closet, still laughing at their antics. "alright, alright, i'll go. but don't think i won't be making fun of all of you the entire time. even in my head!"

"is that what you're doing when you become uncharacteristically quiet?"

"absolutely."

you grab your jacket and toss it over your shoulders, you feel better than you have in days. social interaction with somebody besides barty and an animal? score! well, semi-score. you still feel awkward. and it's at marlene's house. and marlene hates you. fuck.

"i hope you're all excited," sirius starts with an evil grin. "i'm the game master tonight. you'll either win big or lose big. no in-between."

"of course you are." you mutter with a laugh.

as the four of you head for the door, remus's hand brushes yours, sending a small jolt through you. for a moment, you think he's going to say something, but he just smiles at you, and the tension between you both eases a little more.

"ready to go?" he asks softly, his voice calm and steady.

you nod, trying to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at the sound of his voice.

as you walk to marlene's house with the boys, your mind starts reeling.

why am i acting like this with remus? why did sirius just barge into my room like things are normal? and james just looks bloody good tonight—WHAT! no! i mean yes, but no! gods.

you take a deep breath, trying to shake off the nervous energy pooling in your stomach. the walk is relatively quiet, save for the occasional quip between james and sirius, while remus, ever the calming presence, keeps quiet but close.

when you reach marlene's house, she greets you all with her usual warmth. but as soon as her eyes meet yours, there's a flicker of something. maybe it's the way her lips press into a tight smile or how her gaze darts to your side, but you can tell she's not quite sure where she stands with you.

"hey, y/n," she says, voice a little too bright.

"hey, marlene." you reply, forcing a smile.

it's awkward. you hate it. you hate that it's still awkward between you and her. marlene and dorcas hadn't apologized for their behavior the last time you all hung out, so things still hadn't clicked between you. something still feels off, and every time they glance your way, it stings just a little bit more.

if you were back in hogwarts, you might have hexed them.

you make your way into the living room, the tension in the air palpable. the boys are all acting normal, like they don't notice, and maybe they don't. they're too happy to notice. you catch remus looking at you every so often, a softness in his gaze that makes you question everything you've been telling yourself about not belonging with them.

you notice how james barely even smiles at lily. it isn't rude, it isn't nasty... and it isn't exactly normal for james to leave lily alone for this long. strange.

"alright, trivia time!" marlene exclaims, clapping her hands to break the silence. "everyone take a seat."

"hey, i'm the game master, marls. don't take over!"

you plop down beside remus and james, trying not to focus on the awkward glances being exchanged between marlene, dorcas, and lily. sirius and james are already goading each other over whose team you should join, and before long, the room is buzzing with chatter.

the game starts light-heartedly, with some silly questions. you laugh along with the boys when they mess up. sirius making exaggerated faces at james for a wrong answer, and remus cracking a joke about how none of you know anything about muggle culture.

"alright, weasel," james stares hard at you, like his eye contact will change the answer you can come up with. "your question is: muggles have a portable music listening device-whatever the hell that means. it was small and had something inside, small enough that you could walk around with it whilst listening to music. what is the name of this device?"

you blink, trying to figure out what on earth he's talking about. you've heard of Muggle music players, but what on earth does device mean?

"d'you even know half the words you just said?" you ask james. "cuz i don't!"

"just make a guess!" james whines, growing impatient. his eyes squint even harder at you.

you clear your throat. "erm...what's that thing called...i know regulus had one. an f.a.x. machine?"

sirius immediately throws his hands up. "yeah! good answer, good answer!" he grins at you, as though you've just nailed the most obvious answer in the world. "f.a.x must stand for something, yeah?! maybe frequency and audio...x something. extractor! yeah. we so got that point."

you try not to laugh at his ridiculous enthusiasm, but your face is bright red. james, on the other hand, looks at you with an understanding smile.

james chuckles, leaning back in his chair. "it's alright, wheezie. don't worry about it. muggles have some weird ways of doing things."

marlene, still fighting back a grin, finally explains. "it's called a walkman. muggles use it to carry around music. it's a small portable music player that uses cassette tapes."

you stare blankly, completely lost. "cassette tapes? what even is that?" you ask, furrowing your brows. it sounds like a weird way to listen to music, but you're still processing the fact that you just guessed the wrong thing.

"also, i believe you were referring to a fax machine, love." remus smirks at you, causing you to stick your tongue out at him.

sirius, still smiling, pats you on the back.

the game continues on for a while, and you're actually having a good time. then marlene changes the mood. classical marls! ugh.

"so, james," she says with a mischievous smile, "i noticed you haven't been as desperate with lily tonight. what's up with that?"

"marlene!" lily scolds, as though she can't believe marlene would ever say that. she sends james an apologetic glance.

you freeze. the sound of her voice, light and teasing, grates against your nerves. the room feels a little too close now, the air a little too thick

"oh, god," james mutters, running a hand through his messy hair. "here we go."

"no, seriously," marlene presses, leaning forward, "is there someone else who's caught your eye? or maybe you've realized you're not the center of the universe anymore?"

now, it's clear she's teasing. dorcas snickers and sirius can only smirk. remus is watching james intently, and all you can do is busy yourself with your fingers.

james' face twists in discomfort, but he's not pulling back. and then, out of nowhere, he casually drops a bomb.

"well," james says slowly, as if the words don't even mean anything to him, "maybe i found something better."

your heart stutters, the air knocked out of your lungs. suddenly, you can't breathe properly. your hands turn clammy, your fingers curling into fists in your lap. you don't look up. you can't. your mind races. pandora is always right.

you can hear her in your head now. "the pillow fort has fallen! it's a pillow home now!" she'd say in her whimsical voice. "take cover!"

james looks at remus and sirius, and the three of them exchange an unreadable glance. they share something there...something only they understand.

your heart sinks.

the room falls still for just a moment, and before you can process, marlene gasps.

"oh my gods," she shouts, eyes wide, "finally! you three are together, aren't you?"

you feel like the walls are closing in. suddenly, the room feels too bright, too loud. their laughter, their grins, everything feels sharp.

you want to vanish. you want to run. you just stare, frozen. too many feelings, none of which you understand, crashing through you.

"finally!" dorcas exclaims, leaning forward and clapping. "we knew it, you guys were practically radiating it."

lily smiles at you softly, her eyes flickering to james and the boys. "it's good to see you all happy. i was never the one for you, clearly. i'm lacking a few...parts."

this sends the room into a horrible laughter. it feels fake, the whole thing. your chest tightens. you try to laugh, but you can't bring yourself to say anything. nothing feels right.

the boys are still caught up in the excitement, grinning like fools, caught in their own world. but you're not in it.

you can't be in it.

you can't stand it anymore. you need a moment. you need to breathe.

without a word, you stand up. your legs feel shaky, but you move toward the restroom as quickly as you can. the last thing you want is for them to see how you're breaking.

they don't seem to think anything of you going to the bathroom. good. you don't want to ruin anything.

once the door closes behind you, you lean against the sink, staring at your reflection. the words echo in your head. they're together. they're happy. but you're not part of it.

your stomach churns, your heart in knots.

you pull out your wand with shaking hands and send a patronus to barty. please tell me I can stay the night at your place, junior. you whisper the message to your stoat desperately.

you wait, counting the seconds, willing your heart to slow down.

a reply comes, fast enough to make you exhale in relief. a whispy snake slithers its way up your arms. yeah, of course, y/n. stay as long as you need.

mistake number 2: game night.

previous next

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 14. marco, polo, and the fish out of water

cw: social anxiety, feelings of exclusion, emotional vulnerability, awkwardness, subtle romantic tension, self-doubt, reader is so insecure it hurts (i luv angst)

things are weiiiiiird.

maybe it's the way james keeps leaning against remus, how sirius slides into the space between them without thinking. they're not doing anything outrageous, just existing in this intimate bubble they'd created so fast.

they're all laughing louder than usual, too, like everything they say is hilarious. it's nice. they're nice. it's fine. you're delusional.

you pull your knees up to your chest, trying not to make it obvious, but your body language probably says it all. you're sitting a little farther from them than usual, not quite on the edge of the couch but definitely not tucked in.

sirius throws a pillow at james. "you're such a twat."

"shut up," james says, laughing and flicking the pillow back, his smile only growing wider. "you're just mad because i beat you at wizard chess."

"i wasn't even trying!"

"bullshit, padfoot."

remus is smiling warmly at them. you stare at them, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. it's the kind of casual, effortless interaction that makes you feel like you've missed something. something you can't quite put your finger on.

remus catches your eye. "you okay?" he asks, his voice softer than it usually is when he's teasing one of the others. his warm expression makes you feel horrible, and you almost straighten up when you notice it.

you smile. "yeah, yeah. just a bit sleepy."

he nods, like he buys it. maybe it's because you've been pulling back more recently. maybe it's because you haven't been as involved in the jokes or the casual touches. you just don't want to make it weird. you don't want to be the one who's suddenly too distant, nor the one who asks questions that no one else is asking. you're not sure you'd even be able to put it into words. what are you feeling?

james leans in closer to sirius, his shoulder brushing against his friend's, and for a split second, your stomach tightens. you quickly look away, pretending to find something interesting in the corner of the room.

they're just comfortable with each other, you tell yourself. that's all it is. nothing's changed. everything's fine.

but it's not fine.

you don't want to think about it too much. about them. about how they can just slip into these easy, playful interactions while you sit on the sidelines like the odd one out, again. you should be happy for them, right? they've been friends for years, long before you showed up. they deserve to be happy together.

even still, there's something in your chest that aches. maybe you were delusional for thinking you could fit in here.

remus shifts next to you, a subtle, knowing look on his face. "you're a million miles away tonight," he says, grabbing a strand of your hair. he flicks it between his fingers.

you don't respond right away, not sure how to without giving too much away. you're sure the redness of your cheeks at his touch is giving away enough "just sleepy, like i said."

there's a quiet between you two before he says, almost too softly, "you don't have to pretend with us, you know."

you can't meet his eyes. "i'm not pretending."

you both know you're lying.

sirius looks up from where he's been playfully bickering with james. "you're not sulking, are you?" he teases, but his tone is light, easy, like he's just asking about the weather.

"i'm not sulking," you say quickly, maybe too quickly, forcing a smile that feels too big. "just sleepy."

"you said that already," james adds, giving you a look that almost feels like he's probing but not quite. like he's trying to figure out the pieces without being too obvious about it. "like fifty times."

you can't stand the way they're all looking at you, like they can read you better than you can read yourself. "i'm fine," you repeat, voice softer this time. it doesn't sound convincing, but it's all you've got.

you stand up suddenly, the need to escape the heavy silence suffocating you. "i'm just gonna go get some air. outside. on the...porch."

gods you're so awkward. sirius eyes you wearily.

"okay," remus says, his voice tinged with uncertainty, like he wants to ask more but doesn't. "take your time."

you don't wait for anyone to say anything else. you don't want to hear it. the way the three of them talk to each other, the way they laugh and touch, it's too much for you. why?

when you step outside, the cool air does little to calm the storm inside you. you take a deep breath, eyes closed, trying to find a moment of clarity. but it's hard. everything feels too big. too heavy.

you're still standing there when you hear the door behind you creak open. it's james. of course.

"hey," he says softly, his voice more careful than usual. "you alright?"

you don't turn to face him, though you can hear the concern in his voice. "yeah. just... thinking."

"about what?" he presses, stepping closer. you can feel the warmth from his body radiating onto yours. just a few weeks ago, this would have been comfortable. now, your skin feels like it's on fire.

you shake your head, the words sticking in your throat. it's all tangled up in your chest, and you can't bring yourself to say it out loud.

he pauses, and for a second, it almost feels like he's waiting for you to say something, anything. but you don't. and he doesn't push. instead, he sighs and leans against the wall beside you, looking out at the night sky. "you know you can talk to us, right? to me."

you nod, even though you're not sure you believe it. you don't want to make things weird, and part of you knows that whatever is happening between them is something you won't be able to fit into. it's not your place to say anything.

he's still here, waiting. for the first time tonight, you don't feel like you're suffocating quite as much.

"yeah," you say, voice small. "i know. i think 'm gonna go to bed early."

"got plans for tomorrow?" he asks hopefully. you notice how he chewed the skin of his lip, like he was eager to hear your response.

you almost choke. "uh, no. no plans," you say, straightening up. "i'll, uh, just sleep in."

james raises an eyebrow. "you don't, like...have a secret romantic date you're running off to, do you?"

you stare at him, blinking in disbelief. "what?"

he shrugs casually, though you can tell he's trying to make you laugh. "you've been weird all evening, so i thought maybe you had a secret agenda. maybe some big romance."

you narrow your eyes at his meek smile. "do i seem like the type of person who would have a 'secret romance'?"

james smirks, leaning in slightly. "could be," he teases. "you're mysterious. got that brooding slytherin thing going on."

you want to laugh, but the comment lingers in a strange way. brooding? you don't know if you can even manage brooding.

"maybe not," he backtracks with a knowing look. "i guess stoats aren't very brooding. more so elusive...maybe even a weasel high on life."

"yeah, well," you laugh softly as you stand up. "the only romance i'm having is with my pillow tonight. and i certainly am not high on life."

james looks after you, his grin slipping for a second as he watches you walk away. you don't think he's ready for the awkward tension that's bubbling just underneath the surface, and you definitely don't want to get caught in it.

you step back inside and head for your room, but not before you hear sirius' voice in the other room.

"did she go outside to sulk again?" he asks, sounding more curious than concerned.

"probably," remus replies, his tone still that soft one that makes your heart feel a little too big. "i don't know what's up with her."

"she's fine," james says quickly, though you can tell from his voice that even he doesn't believe that. "she's just sleepy. it's nothing."

"yeah, totally." sirius says, though he sounds a little unsure. 

you don't stick around to eavesdrop on the rest of the conversation. you head into your room, the weight of their words still in your chest. you flop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling. you don't want to overthink this, but here you are. it's all fine. right?

your mind drifts, but then you hear a tap at your window. you sit up, blinking. your first thought is that it's the wind or maybe a stray bird. but then it happens again. 

you groan. "what the bloody hell? it's too late for mail."

you pull back the curtains and spot none other than sirius orion black, smirking up at you. of course.

"what are you doing?" you his, opening the window just enough for him to hear.

"trying to see if you were ignoring me on purpose," he says, his grin practically glowing in the dim light. "it's a scientific experiment."

you roll your eyes. "you're ridiculous."

sirius shrugs. "yeah, but i'm also right, right? you've been acting weird, and not in the cute way."

"i'm not acting weird," you mutter, but even you know it's not true. you can't seem to help it, and you are avoiding them. so maybe sirius is right.

"whatever," he says, suddenly leaning closer, his head now poking through the window. "just don't go thinking that we don't notice when something's off with you. we care."

you blink, a little taken aback. "yeah, yeah i know. but i'm fine. really."

sirius doesn't buy it, not even for a second. "uh-huh. and i'm the queen of england."

you snort and bow your head jokingly. "sure, your majesty."

he chuckles, the sound so much like a comfort you didn't realize you needed. "goodnight, then. don't go brooding or anything. we'll all be here when you decide to stop acting like a weird hermit."

you let out a breath, trying to suppress a grin. "i'll keep that in mind, your majesty."

previous next

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 13: zoltar the fortune teller

cw: emotional insecurity, jealousy, subtle romantic tension, polyamory dynamics, social anxiety, feelings of exclusion

you can't help but notice the subtle shift.

it's been happening for weeks now, but tonight, it really clicks. the three of them, james, sirius, and remus, are closer than ever. they laugh in a way that sounds different, like something deeper, something that's not just friendship but something more.

it's not like they're outright flirting, but their interactions are a lot softer, warmer, knowing. they share jokes that only they understand, shoot each other these looks that make your stomach twist in an odd way. the way they talk, the way they touch, it's all...affectionate.

you catch yourself glancing at them more often than usual. sirius' hand brushes against remus' when they're handing over a mug. james slings his arm over remus' shoulder without a second thought. and it's not just physical touch; it's the way they're always in tune with each other, finishing each other's sentences, calling each other sweet names.

you feel like an outsider again, and it stings more than it should.

"you're quiet tonight," remus comments, nudging you gently as the four of you sit on the couch to watch a movie. you're not sure if he's just trying to get you to talk or if he's genuinely concerned.

you blink, pulling your gaze away from where james and sirius are bickering playfully in the corner. "huh? oh, yeah. just tired," you reply, forcing a smile, though it doesn't quite reach your eyes. "long day working with junior." 

you try to joke, but you can't shake the feeling that they've all grown closer without you. it's like they're back in their own world now, and you're standing on the outside, watching them interact as if you don't belong there anymore.

sometimes, you feel like a kid at the zoo on the other side of the glass. look mummy, the marauders are feeding each other grapes! look daddy, they're basically fucking on the couch in front of me! 

later that week, you find yourself sitting at a booth at the pub with barty, pandora, regulus, and evan, a glass of wine in hand, trying to drown out the overwhelming feeling of distance. the chatter around you seems louder than usual, like you're drowning in the noise. but when you glance around, you see everyone laughing, and you can't help but feel bad for being so disconnected.

"the show was incredible, evan," junior yells, throwing his hands around as he speaks. "first, they bring out a giant bloody hippogriff, and i'm standing there thinking, what the fuck! because i'm a magizoologist and i know that shit's not ethical! anyways,—"

barty's talking animatedly about some show he went to, but your focus keeps drifting back to what you might see when you head home.

"y/n? you okay?" pandora's voice cuts through the haze of your thoughts.

you blink, focusing back on her. "yeah, just... tired, I guess."

"tired of what?" regulus asks, raising an eyebrow, ever the curious one. he knows you well enough to know that this isn't how you act when you need some rest. this is you groveling. overthinking. wallowing.

you hesitate. "i guess... i guess i'm starting to feel like an outsider again." you look down at your drink, swirling the wine in your glass as you speak, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. "it's just... the three of them, they're so close. and i get it, i do. they've been best friends for years. but lately, it feels like they're all...together in a way that doesn't really include me."

"together?" regulus asks, his voice carrying a tone you don't quite understand.

you groan and put your head in your hands. "i know how it sounds. i feel weird now that i've even said it out loud! but i swear to merlin they're...together...."

there's a silence as the others process your words. barty raises an eyebrow but doesn't speak yet. regulus, sitting next to you, shifts slightly, his brow furrowing as he looks at you.

"what do you mean?" evan asks gently, clearly trying to understand where you're coming from.

you sigh, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on you. "they're always laughing, always joking around with each other. and i'm there, but i'm not really...with them, you know? like, they have this even closer bond now, and i don't know how to get into it anymore. like, i'm starting to feel like i'm just the odd one out."

"that doesn't sound like them," pandora says, frowning, but you know she knows what you mean. she must have seen it! "you've been part of their circle for a while now. you're not an outsider."

"i know," you mutter, running your fingers along the rim of your glass. "but it feels that way sometimes. it's like i'm intruding, like there's something between them now that i don't get. and i hate feeling like this, but it's hard to ignore. i mean, i only live with them, y'know?"

there's a beat of silence before regulus speaks, his voice low and thoughtful. "i can see how you'd feel that way. but it's not intentional. they're just... close. always have been." he glances briefly toward the boys, who are still caught up in their conversation. "maybe they don't realize how it's coming across."

you nod slowly, but it doesn't quite make you feel better. "maybe. i don't want to be jealous. i don't. i just... i miss how it used to feel. like i was really a part of them."

"have you talked to them about it?" evan asks softly, his eyes meeting yours with concern.

you shake your head. "no. i don't want to make it weird. they're just...they're happy. and i don't want to be the one to mess that up."

"you should talk to them," regulus says, lounging back in his chair, casually flipping through a magazine like it's not the most important thing happening in the room. "you don't want to keep bottling it up. they might not even know how you're feeling."

you let out a dramatic sigh, sinking into the cushions. "i'll think about it."

barty, who has been twirling his drink in his hand, suddenly perks up like a curious cat. "hey, pandora," he says with a grin. "you've got, like, that intuition thing…the seeing, right? like you can see things before they happen or whatever with your cards and your crazy eyes. you think you could tell me if y/n's crazy for thinking the boys are, like, together?"

you swat at barty and laugh incredulously.

“don’t take the mick out of my sister, crouch!” evan practically growls from his seat at the table.

pandora, shushes her brother. you all turn to look at the blonde haired girl, who has been staring at a potted plant with far too much intensity, turns to barty with a dreamy look in her eyes. "oh, of course," she says, her voice airy, like she's pondering the mysteries of the universe. "they are...they are...verrrry close. like how the moon is close to the earth, but the earth doesn't always know what the moon is thinking."

barty blinks, clearly lost. "wait, so what? i’m confused. are they datin’ each other or what?"

pandora squints at him like he's asked the most obvious question. "oh no, darling, it's not that simple. there’s a…..cosmic pull. a connection. oh yes, very much a connection." she sighs as though the words themselves are a magical incantation. "it’s like when you find a cloud that's almost a rabbit, but not quite. you know it's almost there, but it's still floating in the sky."

“i don’t know, actually.” regulus tightens his lips to keep himself from laughing.

you stare at her, trying to figure out if she's messing with you. "s’what does that mean? are they in a relationship?"

pandora taps her chin with one finger, looking profoundly deep in thought. "oh, they're not in a relationship," she says matter-of-factly, as if this is the most obvious thing in the world. "they're in the softest possible relationship. like a teddy bear that you don't want to let go of. it's all softness. they’re very soft with each other."

you blink. "so they're...not together, but also kind of together?"

"exactly!" pandora beams, as if this has all been so clear from the start. "they're like... a tangled blanket on a couch. you can't really tell where one ends and the other begins. but also, it's a tangled blanket. so maybe it needs a little time to sort itself out. but there are definitely feelings. feelings of warm, comfortable confusion."

barty frowns. "are you telling me that the boys are just...tangled up in blankets together?"

"exactly," pandora nods a little too seriously. "that is exactly what it is. they're very tangled. tangled and soft." she waves her hand as though to dismiss the need for any more details. "but y’know, nothing too dramatic. just soft. like the fluff inside a pillow."

you let out an exasperated breath. "so they're not really together, but they're close?"

"oh, they're very close," pandora says with a dreamy sigh. barty lets out a barking laugh and evan chokes on his drink. dirty minded boys. "like when you find a star you're convinced is your favorite, but it keeps blinking in and out of view. but the star still knows it's yours."

"right..." you say, rubbing your temples. "but the way i’m feeling, like i’m left out and all. does it have anything to do with me? did i do something wrong?"

pandora's eyes go wide and she tilts her head to the side. "oh, darling, everything has to do with you. like how the sun's light gets to the earth, even when the earth doesn't know why. you've entered the picture, whether you want to or not. and the stars... oh y/n they like you. the stars like you very much."

your face is overtaken by a grimace and you look over to regulus, who is hiding himself behind evan’s back to keep from showing his unraveling laughter.

barty snickers. "i still don't get it, but okay. so no one's officially dating yet?"

pandora grins. "no, darling. but they will be! it's only a matter of time. after all, you can't sit in a blanket fort forever without someone realizing they like the warmth of another's company."

you feel your stomach flip uncomfortably, though you try to hide it. "right..."

pandora nods sagely, but then her face lights up with excitement. "ohhh! and don't forget about the tea! there’s always tea when the stars align."

“we’re from the uk,” evan sighs as he rubs his hands over his face. “there’s always tea.”

"you've lost me again, pans.” you mutter under your breath. gods help me.

previous next

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 12. to sleep, perchance to dream

cw: emotional vulnerability, grief, polyamory, subtle romantic tension, alcohol use, family conflict

you woke up the next morning tangled in a mess of limbs. after you all laid with sirius in the living room, you must have fallen asleep. your face heats up at all of the contact.

james is draped half over you, his hand curled loosely at your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck like it's the most natural place for him to be. he's warm, the kind of heavy warmth that seeps into your bones.

sirius is curled up at your other side, pressed so close you can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing against your ribs. his hand is hooked in the fabric of your shirt like he's afraid you might slip away if he lets go.

remus is sprawled at siri's side, one of his long arms flung lazily across the man's legs, his head tipped back on the edge of the couch, mouth parted just slightly in his sleep.

your chest tightens in that stupid, fluttery way. you should move. you should. sirius shifts first, making a soft, sleepy noise, his thumb absently stroking against your side like he's still half in a dream.

"morning," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

you hum in reply, trying to will your heartbeat into something normal.

james stirs next, snuffling against your shoulder as he blinks blearily awake. "what time is it?" he mumbles sleepily, not even pretending to move away.

"early," you whisper, stiff as a board.

"too early," sirius groans, squeezing his eyes shut and burrowing his face further into your side.

remus lets out a low sigh without opening his eyes. "if you're all awake, someone should go make tea."

"volunteer yourself, moons," james mumbles, his lips brushing against your neck. what the fuck is happening!

"coward."

sirius' laughter rumbles low in his chest, and you feel it through where he's pressed against you. "we should get up," he says, though he makes no move to actually do so.

you should move. you should. but you don't.

you stay exactly where you are, heart pounding against your ribs like a traitor. you're painfully aware of james' soft breathing against your neck, the way sirius' thumb keeps tracing slow, absent circles against your side, the warmth of remus' hand still resting on sirius' legs like it's always belonged there.

it's too much. 

"if we stay like this," james mumbles sleepily, his words slurring into your skin, "we're gonna die here."

sirius snorts, the sound muffled by your shirt. 

remus cracks one eye open to glare at the potter boy. "jamie. stop talking."

"we're cozy," sirius argues. "let us die cozy!"

you can't help the tiny, traitorous laugh that slips out. "cozy?" you squeak, your voice just a little too high. "this is cozy?" 

of course it's cozy! you just have to act like it's not. why? you're not sure, but you know you're supposed to.

james tightens his arm around you, clearly delighted now. "this is very cozy."

"you lot are the worst," you grumble, but you don't try to move away.

poor james. his mind works to quickly for him to sit still long, even if he is comfortable. it's him who sits up first, stretching until his back cracks. "fine, fine. i'll make the tea. since i'm the kindest and most selfless person here."

he walks slowly into the kitchen, his dark curls flying all around his head as he moves. you stifle laughter.

remus groans but follows him, muttering something about how he doesn't trust james not to burn the whole kitchen down.

you stay behind with sirius, who hasn't let go of your shirt.

he peers up at you through the hair falling in his eyes. "you're warm," he says, like it's a fact he's just discovered.

"so are you," you whisper, your throat dry.

his lips twitch. "thanks for last night. for staying."

"'course, siri."

he stares at you, his grey eyes piercing into your own. he looks like he wants to speak, but he's not sure what to say. "y'know...if it weren't for...."

you gaze at him with knowing eyes. you know what he wants to say. if it weren't for you moving in and convincing him to give things a try with his brother, he never would have gone to the party. he never would have had that moment with reggie.

sirius lets go, but only just, his fingers lingering at the hem of your shirt as he stands. he clears his throat.

"don't read into it too much, yeah?" he teases, even though there's something sweeter behind his smirk.

you grin despite the way your heart trips. "too late."

you move away first, reluctantly untangling yourself from the nest of blankets and warmth. your shift starts soon. you should be more concerned about that. you should be thinking about your commute. but instead you're still thinking about the weight of james' arm around your waist, sirius' hand fisted in your shirt, the way remus had let his hand rest on sirius like it belonged there.

you pretend you don't catch james watching you from the kitchen doorway as you gather your things and head to your bedroom...pretend you don't notice the quiet between the three of them.

you pull on your work clothes and pull your hair back out of your face. you cast a simple tersus on yourself to freshen up a bit, hoping it might make you feel more awake...more normal.

you stalk down the hallway and grab your coat from the rack, pulling it onto your body. "see you later," you call, soft and maybe a little breathless.

sirius offers a lazy wave from the couch. remus hums in reply, pouring the tea. james flashes you that lopsided grin, the one that always seems to stir something up in your chest. "later, love."

you dissaparate with a crrrrack. the flat is too quiet now.

james sets the kettle down with a little more force than necessary. "so," he starts, not bothering to turn around, "what the fuck was that."

"what was what?" sirius says immediately, playing defensive, but there's no bite behind it.

"you know what." james finally turns, resting his hip against the counter, arms crossed loosely over his chest. "we just slept on the living room floor all tangled up and no one's gonna talk about it?"

remus looks up from his mug, his brow raised but his expression unreadable. "it's not the first time we've shared a bed, prongs."

"yeah, but it's different now." james runs a hand through his curls, still messy from sleep. "felt different."

sirius shrugs, but he's not fooling anyone. "felt cozy."

remus snorts into his tea. "cozy," he repeats, but his voice is softer now. almost careful. "you're right, though. it was different."

"i don't know what we're doing," james admits, dragging his teeth across his bottom lip. "but i liked it. i liked being close like that. i didn't wanna move."

sirius leans back, staring at the ceiling like it might have the answers. "you think she liked it?"

remus tilts his head. "you didn't see the way she panicked when james breathed on her neck?"

james perks up. "oh, she panicked?" his eyes widen and he seems a bit too enthusiastic about it.

"completely," remus confirms, a rare, playful spark in his eye.

a crooked grin pulls at sirius' lips. "good."

the mood softens into something warm, a little teasing, but not heavy.

remus leans his elbows on the table, his gaze flicking between his friends. "we don't have to figure it out right now."

james' smile fades into something more thoughtful. he brings his mug up to his lips and sips carefully.

"it's us," james says, simple and sure. "it's always been us."

and truthfully, that's how they'd always been, even back at hogwarts. if sirius had received a howler from his mum, they laid together and comforted him. when james embarrassed himself in front of lily evans (again), they comforted each other. when remus was feeling mopey because it was the week before a full moon, you guessed it. they'd do anything for each other. the difference now is, you were there. a girl, a girl who cares very much about all of them in ways they'd never been cared for before by another person. 

sirius' throat bobs as he swallows. "it's different now."

there's a quiet that stretches between them—not uncomfortable, just full of things unsaid.

sirius shifts in his seat. "if she likes it too..."

"then we talk about it," james finishes. "all of us."

sirius nods, something small and a little nervous flickering across his face. "yeah. okay."

james played with his fingers nervously. "i-it would be all of us, right?"

the boys knew what he was implying. not just them and y/n, but them and y/n.

remus smirks faintly into his tea. "what do you think, prongsie? until then... maybe we should practice staying cozy."

james laughs. "oh, i'm gonna smother you both next time."

"we'll see if you're brave enough, potter."

remus raises his mug in mock toast. "to cozy."

james clinks his against remus'. "to figuring it out."

sirius watches them for a second before his smirk curls back into place. "to not talking about it."

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 11. party 4 u

cw: grief, family tension, emotional vulnerability, subtle references to drinking, deep friendship and support, soft healing moments

the party isn't really a party. it's a flimsy excuse. you know that. barty knows that. everyone in the room knows that. but it's happening anyway.

regulus had spent the morning with his mother, endured the tight smiles and dry conversation over lunch. he made small talk with narcissa and bellatrix, both of whom were recently betrothed. he walked through the corridor to his father's old study and stared at the blasted hole in the wall. sirius orion black. dead to the family. 

he would've let the day end there if not for the owl he sent to you. to sirius.

the one he pretended to write casually. the one he absolutely waited for a response to.

he says he doesn't care about birthdays. he says it every year. but this time is different.

you arrive a little early, slipping into regulus' flat in the city. it's neat in a way that screams evan's doing. the warm lighting, a clean record spinning low in the background, mismatched glasses waiting on the counter. pandora greets you first, tugging you into a hug.

"you're late," barty chirps from the couch, sprawled across it like he owns the place. "we started without you."

"you're lying," you grin, tossing your coat onto the chair. "you were just waiting for me to get here to make fun of me."

"correct."

pandora loops her arm through yours as she rambles on about her latest potions disaster and her new relationship with xenophilius lovegood. "he's completely mad, obviously," she says, cheeks pink with something dangerously close to fondness. "he tried to enchant his scarf to follow him around like a pet snake. i think it's still slithering somewhere in his father's house."

you laugh, remembering how odd xeno had been in school. he had to work today, pandora had said. not that it mattered much to reggie.

he hovers nearby, pretending not to listen, but you can tell he's watching the door. waiting.

"he'll come," you murmur when you find him by the drinks table.

he raises a cool eyebrow. "who?"

"you know who."

regulus shrugs like he doesn't care. you both know he does. they both do.

just then, the door swings open and there they are—sirius, james, remus. james has a steadying hand on sirius' back, remus offers a polite nod. sirius has probably had a shot or two, just enough to loosen the grip on his walls, but his jaw is still tight.

you catch his eye across the room. a soft, quiet check-in. he's good, you're good.

barty is thrilled. "well, look what the bloody hippogriff dragged in."

"bite me," sirius mutters, but there's no real heat in it. he grabs barty's elbow as he walks by.

evan is watchful but polite. pandora is delighted. regulus hovers awkwardly until james, of all people, breaks the tension by loudly complimenting the record playing.

"i love this song," he says happily. he starts to dance along to the record, twisting remus' arms to dance with him. 

the party unfolds in a blur of soft music, shared drinks, old stories. you all sing regulus happy birthday in a half-hearted, off-key way while regulus glares at the cake like it's personally offended him. you can't tell if he's rolling his eyes or just pretending not to smile.

you hand him your gift—a charmed teapot that never goes cold and a set of enchanted mugs that refill with your favorite brew when you tap them.

"for you and evan," you explain with a smile. "or just you, if he starts annoying you."

regulus quirks a smile. "he always annoys me."

"hey!"

"you're welcome."

barty gives him a box of cursed chocolates that explode into confetti when you open them. evan rolls his eyes but keeps them, stealing one secretly.

then sirius. he pulls something small from his coat pocket. a soft, worn copy of the tales of beedle the bard with a cracked spine.

regulus frowns, his eyes filling with something you couldn't understand. "what's this?"

sirius shrugs, eyes fixed on the floor. "yours. you left it in my room. figured you forgot."

regulus flips through it slowly, fingers brushing over the dog-eared pages. there's a note inside, scrawled in a mess of childlike handwriting.

don't touch this, it's sirius'.

"you used to make me read this to you," sirius mumbles, almost embarrassed. "like, over and over. wouldn't go to sleep otherwise. thought maybe you'd want it back."

the room is quiet.

regulus closes the book gently. "you didn't have to."

"yeah, well. i did."

regulus' voice is dry when he says, "it's an ugly gift."

"you're an ugly gift."

but when regulus sets the book aside, he does it carefully...like it's something precious.

later, when the crowd thins out, when james is laughing loudly with barty and pandora is dragging remus into some bizarre tarot reading, sirius and regulus find themselves on the tiny balcony overlooking the street.

the cold air cuts the haze of the party.

"so," sirius mutters, leaning against the railing. "had a good afternoon with mumsie?"

regulus exhales a slow breath, gaze fixed on the street below. "don't be stupid. you know i didn't."

"you did."

"nobody has a good time there, sirius." regulus says solemnly.

"sure."

a beat of silence. the muffled sounds of your friends laughing inside.

"i thought you didn't want me here," sirius says quietly, like it's something that's been sitting heavy on his chest for years.

regulus doesn't look at him. "you're an idiot. that's why i had to throw a party."

they don't solve everything. they don't hug. they don't even look at each other.

but regulus mutters, "i'm glad you came."

and sirius, without hesitation, says, "me too."

when you finally leave the party, everyone is dead tired. it was well past midnight, an indication that the party was at least a good time. 

remus pulls his shoes off carefully before sitting down at his spot on the couch. "pandora is a very sweet girl. crazier than i remember, though."

"yeah, she's great," you beam. "i heard her say you're going to have a lot of lovers, rem."

he scoffs as you wiggle your eyebrows suggestively at him. "her cards don't know a thing, love."

"she hasn't been wrong before!"

james flops down heavily into the armchair, his hair a little messy from barty tugging at it earlier. he exhales, long and satisfied, sinking into the cushion like he might fall asleep right there.

"you know," james starts, glancing lazily at the both of you, "i used to think hanging out with slytherins would feel like walking into a death trap."

you arch a brow. "thanks, potter."

he waves you off, grinning. "but tonight was...i dunno. your friends are good people."

remus hums, stretching out with a soft, "yeah. they are."

you glance toward sirius, who's perched on the edge of the coffee table, chewing absently on his thumb ring.

"even evan grew on me," james continues, laughing a little to himself. "and barty's a menace, but i love him. it was a good night. good party.”

sirius nods slowly. "yeah."

you can tell he means it, but there's something stuck behind his ribs, something he hasn't let out yet. he's quiet the rest of the night as you all start moving around, getting ready for bed in that soft, sleepy way that happens when you've stayed up too late and your head's still buzzing.

remus and james disappear toward their rooms, but not long after, you hear soft footsteps returning. when you wander back into the living room, you see sirius hasn't moved. he's still sitting on the coffee table, staring at his hands.

"hey," you say gently, padding over. "you alright?"

"yeah," he says, but his voice cracks. "yeah, 'course."

you sit beside him carefully, your shoulder brushing his. a moment later, james drops down on sirius' other side, still barefoot, his brow creased.

"sirius?"

remus settles on the floor, leaning his arm against sirius' knee. "y'okay pads?"

sirius' throat bobs as he swallows hard. "it was a good party." he says, like he's clinging to that fact, like he's trying to convince himself it was enough.

"it was..." you echo, resting your hand lightly on his back.

"it's just—" his breathing shudders. "i missed him. for so long. and i didn't even realize how much."

the words crack him open.

"i thought i was past it," sirius croaks, dragging his hands through his hair like he's trying to keep himself from unraveling. "i thought i didn't care anymore, but i do. i really fucking do."

james' hand is on his shoulder instantly, solid and warm. "you're allowed to care, pads."

"it's just—he remembered things i forgot. he liked that i gave him the book. he kept the bloody sweater. he...he wanted me there." sirius' voice breaks fully now, and the tears spill over, sharp and messy, like he's spent years holding this grief in his teeth.

he curls in on himself, elbows on his knees, shoulders shaking under the weight of it.

"i missed him so much. i missed him so fucking much, and now he's here. now i get to see him, now he wants to see me, and i...i don't know how to do this. it's good, it's so good, but it hurts so bad. i can't—i can't fucking breathe through it."

james leans into him fully, wrapping his arms around sirius' shoulders from behind like he's trying to hold him together. remus slides closer, his hand steady on sirius' knee.

"you're not doing it alone," james says softly, pressing his cheek to the back of sirius' shoulder. "you've got us, remember?"

remus hums in agreement, his voice like the grounding pull of gravity. "you've got time now. you can figure it out."

"what if i fuck it up?"

"you won't." you whisper, tightening your arm around his waist.

sirius sobs, his tears soaking into james' sleeve, and james just holds him tighter. remus leans his head against sirius' knee, anchoring him to the floor.

"we've got you." remus says, low and certain.

you stay like that for a long time, the four of you tangled together in the dim light of the living room, until sirius' breathing evens out and the trembling fades. he wipes his face roughly with his sleeve, and when he finally looks at you, at remus, at james, his eyes are swollen and red but he's smiling, soft and a little broken, but smiling.

"thanks."

james bumps his head against sirius' shoulder. "anytime."

remus reaches up, threading his fingers briefly through sirius' hair before dropping his hand. "you don't have to do this on your own anymore."

your hand finds sirius', and you weave your fingers through his. "want me to ask pandora to read into your future about it?" you tease softly.

sirius laughs despite himself and throws his head back. "yeah right, weasel."

"weasel?!?"

remus laughs heartily. 

"isn't that your patronus or something?"

"it's a bloody stoat!"

"looks like a weasel."

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[whimsymoonpages]

navigation and information

whimsy. 21. lover. yearner. writer. whatever you want. will write for harry potter, narnia, and sam monroe.

poly!marauders series -slow burn -fem!slytherin reader -clueless idiots -they're all madly in love but can't see it

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 10. mr. owl ate my metal worm

cw: family tension, emotional vulnerability, references to strained sibling relationships, mild drinking, subtle anxiety about social situations, brotherly loooove

the owls arrive just after breakfast, their wings brushing through the open window, talons clinking against the plates as they drop their letters. one letter lands in your lap, the familiar looping handwriting making your stomach twist in surprise. regulus. it's been a while since you've seen him. since the party.

you glance over to where sirius is still buttering his toast, looking utterly unbothered until the owl drops a second letter directly in front of him.

his expression tightens immediately. he reads the front. freezes. and pushes it unopened to the side like it's nothing. but you know it's not nothing.

you crack the wax seal on yours carefully. the letter is simple. 

"lovely—

i am turning twenty-two. my plan is to have lunch with my mother by day, and go bat-shit crazy by night. it wouldn't be fun without you. barty will be there, and so will evan, pandora, xeno, and some of evan's work friends.

bring your friends, too, if you'd like...but i can't promise my pet snake (evan) won't bite ;) 

he made me write that. the blithering idiot.

i can't wait to see you. i've missed you.

-r.a.b."

you put the letter into your pocket, pretending your heart doesn't ache a little for sirius.

later, you notice that sirius has tucked the letter, which was now open into the sidetable drawer.

"sooo," you drag out as you stare at the letter. "you're not going?"

"to what?" sirius' tone is sharp, but you know it's just defense.

"you know what....regulus' birthday."

he stiffens.

"he invited you too?"

you nod. "yeah, i’m his best friend! he asked about you, actually. told me to make sure you got his letter." you shove your hands into your front pockets to stop from fidgeting. you never were good at lying.

sirius rolls his eyes as if he can see right through you. "fat chance."

you let him stew for a bit, but eventually, you nudge him softly. "he's your brother."

"was my brother."

"sirius."

he pushes his long hair back. "he doesn't really want me there. probably just a family obligation thing. last time i saw him, he called me the disgrace of the family."

you wince, remembering how awkward it had been to hear. but really, you knew he didn't mean it. regulus had confided in you many a times during your time living together, and even before that, about his...familial complications.

"yeah, he said that," you murmur, kicking gently at the leg of the table, "but he also made me help him hide that awful sweater you gave him. you remember? the red one with the dragon that looked more like a fat rat."

a ghost of a smile flickers across sirius' face. "he kept that ugly thing?"

"yeah. he wouldn't wear it when your mum was around, but he'd wear it when he was sick. said it was his lucky sweater."

sirius shakes his head, like he doesn't want to believe it, like it hurts too much to believe it. you can't blame him.

"when he writes me," you add quietly. "he talks about you."

"bet he does." sirius’ voice cuts through the air like ice.

"no, i mean..." you chew your lip, trying to pick your words carefully. "he asks about you. like real questions. how you're doing, if you're happy."

"he doesn't care if i'm happy." sirius snaps, his voice becoming dangerously low. 

"he does, sirius." you insist as you lean forward, resting your arms on the table. "i know he does because he told me. because he knew i'd tell you."

the kitchen is quiet except for the soft clink of sirius tapping his ring against the chair, his foot bouncing under the table. it's like he's waiting for you to give up, to drop it.

but you don't. he needs this push.

"you know," you say carefully, "you can hate your family and still miss your brother."

sirius lets out a long, slow breath. "i don't know if he even wants me there. i don't know if i could go and not screw it up...make him uncomfortable on his own birthday."

"then we can all go together." you shrug like it's the simplest thing in the world. "and if it's terrible, we leave early. you know, barty will be there. that's incentive enough, yeah?"

"oh, brilliant, a guaranteed disaster."

"you love him."

"i don't love him."

"you like him."

"i tolerate him."

you grin brightly. "see? we're making progress."

sirius rolls his eyes, but there's a bit more color in his cheeks now. 

"you really think he'd want me there?" his question is so quiet, it almost hurts you.

you nudge your foot against his under the table. "i think he'd be really happy to see you."

sirius is quiet for a long time, staring down at the faint water ring left by an old mug. eventually, he drags his hand through his hair and mutters, "fine. i'll think about it."

you smile, warm and knowing. "that's all i'm asking." 

that evening, remus and james come back from work early. you all go out for butterbeer and chips. you hadn't planned on telling the others about the invite until later, but sirius is unusually quiet, and james catches on quickly.

"what's up with him?" james mouths to you when sirius steps away. to get another round of drinks.

you sigh, playing with the condensation on your butterbeer bottle. "he got a letter from regulus. birthday party."

james perks up immediately, his curiosity winning out. "oh, we're going, right? haven't been to a proper black family event since i charmed sirius' tie to slap him in the face whenever he got smug at his twelfth birthday."

"that was my favorite tie, potter." sirius whines as he plops down into the booth again.

"don't change the subject. you're going, right?"

sirius shrugs and wipes his damp hands on his jeans. "haven't decided."

"well, if we're going," james says, unfazed, "what are we getting him?"

"a gryffindor scarf," sirius deadpans.

james slaps the table, delighted. "it's perfect."

"he'll burn it." you deadpan, smirking as you chug the rest of your drink.

"worth it."

remus hums from his place by the window, thoughtful. "what do you usually get him, y/n?"

you pause. "uh. sometimes records. he likes the weird stuff...celestina warbeck's banned albums, that wizard rock band that got kicked out of the hog's head for starting a mosh pit—"

"the exploding cauldrons," sirius mutters, surprising all of you.

you blink at him. "you remember that?"

"he used to hum their songs when he was mad. 'cos mum hated them."

there's a beat of silence, not uncomfortable, but heavy enough that you feel it.

"i liked them first!" sirius all but exploded. "he was always copyin' me."

he was an older brother, after all!

"you could get him a first press of one of their albums," remus offers, like he's carefully extending a bridge sirius can choose to cross or not.

"too sentimental," sirius scoffs, but he doesn't shoot the idea down completely.

"what about something stupid, then?" james jumps in, his eyes wide as always. "like a toy wand that shoots out sparkles. or a shirt that says 'world's okayest brother.'"

you snort. "he'd never wear that."

sirius sighs, rubbing his thumb over the corner of his mug.

you nudge his foot under the table. "you can get him something small, siri, doesn't have to be perfect."

"can't believe you're all ganging up on me." he huffs, pretending not to turn red at the sound of you calling him siri.

"it's because we love you," james grins, his cheeks red from all the drinks he'd had. "also because we really want to go to a black family party. it's legendary."

"it's not a family party," sirius corrects, quieter now. "it's his party."

maybe that's what does it, you think. calling it regulus' party, not a family obligation, not a trap. just a party.

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 9. no bartys allowed

cw: mild alcohol use, injury references, teasing/humiliating stories, light drinking atmosphere, emotional warmth and belonging

the day starts the way most do at the crescent moon magical animal rescue and rehabilitation center: with barty leaning too far over the fence and you dragging him back by the collar of his robes.

"barty, i swear on merlin's beard, if you lose a finger today, i'm not helping you find it."

"oh, please," barty grins, unbothered, as he dangles a strip of dried dragon-jerky toward a disgruntled clabbert. "it's not even biting. see? he's perfectly—ah! little shit!"

you sigh loudly as the clabbert snaps, barty lurches back with a girlish scream, and you're left catching his arm to keep him from tumbling straight into the mud. his laughter rings out bright against the cool morning air, and despite yourself, you can't help but laugh too.

"you know, i'm amazed you made it to adulthood with all your limbs intact."

"oh, y/n, please. my limbs are still negotiable."

you shake your head, brushing stray tufts of fur from your jumper as you make your way back toward the supply shed. the sanctuary is quiet this time of day. the owls haven't arrived yet with their lists of new rescues, and the more skittish creatures are still drowsy in their enclosures. you savor this part of the morning...the soft hush, the damp grass beneath your boots, the way barty hums some tuneless rock song as he helps restock the potions rack.

you're halfway through organizing the bottles when he glances sideways at you, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"so. you're seeing your gryffindor boys tonight?"

you roll your eyes, but the smile gives you away. "i live with them, barty."

"that's not the same as seeing them," he teases, nudging you with his shoulder. "you've gone all soft on them."

"have not."

"have too."

"have not."

he plucks a jar of mendwell salve from the shelf and waves it at you like it's evidence. "you've started bringing their favorites to the sanctuary. you're making remus' tea. you let sirius drag wet pawprints all over the cottage without hexing him. you know james' order at the takeaway by heart. you are absolutely soft on them. when's the last time you've done something nice for me?"

you grab his bitten finger and hold it in the air, staring at him with a blank expression. even still, barty's grin is too wide, too smug, and you close it again with a huff.

these last few weeks, since you had helped them with remus' transformation, things had been very nice. it was almost like when you had first moved in, but better.

"you're insufferable."

"and yet, you keep me around."

"i'm not sure why."

"because," he says, looping an arm over your shoulder as you both wander toward the kneazle pens, his brown and green hair tickling your forehead, "i'm the only one who knows you've always wanted this. to belong somewhere like that. somewhere warm. the dungeons have always been a bit cold for you, ay softie?"

"shove off, crouch!"

as the work day ends, you don't plan for barty to come over. in fact, you're halfway through tying your boots when he throws an arm around your shoulder, dangling his own bag in his free hand.

"so. i’ll come with you, yeah?"

you glance up at him. "since when?"

"since now."

"there’s a rule."

"what rule?"

"the no barty rule."

he gasps dramatically. "are you making that up?"

"…yes. we do have a rule about telling each other when people are coming over, though."

"what, are they scared i'll corrupt the place with my slytherin charm?"

"i think they’re scared you’ll steal their shampoo."

"you do have excellent shampoo," he says, nodding seriously. "but come on, just sneak me in!"

you squint at him. "are you seriously asking me to apparate with you directly into my bedroom?"

"what, afraid we’ll get caught?"

"more like neither of us are that great at apparating with other people and i'm scared i'd end up with green hair and stick and pokes all over my private parts!" 

he smirks. "you remember my private parts?"

you groan. and because you’re terrible at saying no to him, you apparate the both of you directly into your bedroom. barty immediately drops onto your bed like he owns the place, bouncing twice for good measure.

"don’t touch anything," you scold with a pointed finger.

"you touch stuff in my room all the time!"

"that’s different!"

"how?"

you ignore him, brushing your hair back and marching out into the living room where james and sirius are arguing over whether padfoot can beat a kelpie in a swimming race, and remus is curled in the armchair with a book, clearly pretending not to listen to them.

"hey, guys?" you call out, trying to sound casual. "is it okay if barty comes over?"

james glances up first, blinking like the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. "yeah, s’long as he behaves."

"fat chance," sirius mutters under his breath.

before you can even announce him, barty stomps out of your bedroom, throwing his arms wide. "what the hell, you asked after i was already here? i thought we were friends!"

"you were with me this whole time! you knew i didn't ask!"

james snorts, remus cracks a tiny smile, and sirius, begrudgingly, pats the seat beside him.

"come on then, crouch, let's have some fun. tell us something we don’t know about y/n."

"oh, mate, i’ve got volumes." barty flops dramatically onto the couch. "you want quidditch stories? because i’ve got quidditch stories, or should i tell them about the time you set your robes on fire in potions?”

you groan, already sinking lower into your seat. “barty, no.”

“alright, alright,” barty’s grin is devilish. “third year. y/n swore she could pull off this ‘brilliant’ new play against hufflepuff. real fancy maneuver. problem is, she forgot to tell the rest of the team.”

you cover your face with your hands. “barty—”

“so there she is, absolutely barreling down the pitch with the quaffle. she doesn’t pass, doesn’t call out, just goes for it. only problem?” barty leans forward, like he’s sharing the world’s greatest secret, his hands animated as he tells the story. “she wasn’t going for the hoops she was supposed to score on.”

“you flew the wrong way?” james is grinning so wide you’re tempted to hex him.

“full speed,” barty nods solemnly. “headed straight for her own keeper like he was the enemy.”

“did you score?” sirius asks, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, she scored. on herself.”

“it was one time!” you wail, throwing a pillow at barty’s head. “i was distracted!”

“by what?” remus asks, his voice soft but teasing.

“…i don’t remember.”

“barty says it was a cute ravenclaw in the stands,” barty supplies helpfully, ducking the second pillow you fling at him. “all i know is she went down as the chaser with the fastest self-goal in slytherin history.”

sirius is howling now. “that’s iconic. honestly? respect.”

“it’s not iconic,” you grumble, crossing your arms. "it was embarrassing."

“no, really. i love it. fearless. chaotic. easily distracted by cute people. fits you perfectly.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s warmth in your chest you can’t quite fight off. barty grins like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

"did you lose?" james asks, on the edge of his seat to be talking about quidditch. score!

"'course we didn't!" you shout with a playful glare. "slytherin never loses."

"ha!" james all but screams out a laugh, his curly hair bouncing has his body jolts. "that's the greatest joke i've ever heard in my entire life!"

you and james banter back and forth about whose house team was better, and barty can only smile at the two of you.

remus hums from his chair, watching barty with an unreadable look. “that's a good story.”

“oh, lupin, i'm full of good stories. most of them are about those losers embarrassing themselves." barty nods his head to you, and it was clear to the others who he was talking about. the others. theothers that they definitely still need to apologize too.

before you know it, hours have gone by. the firewhiskey bottle is half gone. someone (sirius) had definitely pulled it out under the guise of just a little, just to warm us up, but now you’re all comfortably sprawled across the living room like you’d been doing this forever.

barty's sitting cross-legged on the floor now, playing a ridiculous card game sirius invented on the spot, one that seems to have no actual rules and mostly exists to give sirius the excuse to bark loudly and change the score whenever he's losing.

remus has been quieter, but not distant. his long legs are draped over the edge of the armchair, one hand curled loosely around his tumbler. his bruises are fading, and there’s color in his cheeks again. his gaze keeps drifting toward you when he thinks you’re not looking, soft and thoughtful. you catch his eyes more than once, and it fills your stomach with butterflies.

james is at your side, leaning heavily against you, his hair still damp from where barty had accidentally knocked over a glass of water on his head. no one believes it was an accident.

"y’know, crouch," james slurs just a little, "you’re not half bad."

you’re giggling so hard at this that your ribs ache. you lean into james' side as he bumps his shoulder against yours. the whole cottage feels warmer now, the sharp edges worn down to something softer.

"you like barty crouch junior!" you tease him in a sing-song voice.

"you lot are ridiculous," remus says, but there’s no real bite to it. his lips twitch like he's fighting a smile.

"oh, yeah?" sirius grins. "you love us."

"debatable."

"you do. it’s obvious." sirius tosses a cushion at remus, who lazily swats it away.

barty leans back on his elbows, watching all of you with a slow, satisfied grin. "you’re good for each other, y’know?"

"you’re drunk," you tease.

"yeah, but that doesn’t make me wrong."

you don’t know what to say to that, so you just nudge his foot with yours and reach for the last biscuit on the plate. barty lets you have it without a fight. 

“so,” sirius stretches, the flames from the hearth flickering in his dark eyes, “what if we made it a regular thing? barty comes over. we drink, play cards, tell humiliating stories about y/n—”

“no,” you cut in firmly.

“just think about it!”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. maybe it’s not such a terrible idea. you'd like to see your friends more.

remus glances at you over the rim of his glass. “you’re staying tonight?”

you blink at him. “i live here.”

his gaze softens and he breaks out into a dopey, drunken smile. “right. good.”

james watches the exchange, something fond and knowing sparking behind his hazel eyes.

“of course i’m staying,” you say, pretending you don’t notice the way they’re all looking at you now, like you’ve always belonged here.

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 8. beth march by the sea

cw: chronic illness/condition (lycanthropy), physical injury and pain, emotional vulnerability, social awkwardness, feelings of guilt and regret, subtle emotional tension

the sun was higher in the sky by the time you finally stirred. the cottage was quiet, the usual morning clatter absent. you stretched slowly, your body stiff from falling asleep hunched over yourself.

they were home now. you'd heard them come in—maybe not fully awake, but enough to register the soft thud of footsteps, the scrape of furniture, the low murmurs of familiar voices. you'd wanted to wait for them. you really had. but sleep had pulled you under.

you pad into the kitchen, the kettle still cold, your abandoned tea mug exactly where you'd left it last night.

james is the first one you see, sitting at the table with his head resting on his folded arms. his hair is a mess and his glasses are off, but his eyes flicked open when you walked in.

"hey, y/n," he said, voice rough with sleep but warm. "g'morning."

"morning." you hesitate, hovering near the counter. you leaned over and rested your arms against the cool granite. "is...how's remus?"

james lifts his head, offering a small, tired smile. "better, thanks to you. still knocked out, but better."

"thanks to regulus." you weren't sure what else to say. it still felt weird, like you were stepping over invisible lines. you grab a bowl from the cabinet and open the fridge.

"y'know," james starts, standing up from his spot on the couch, "you didn't have to do all that. the potions. staying up. looking after us."

"i wanted to..." you pour crack open an egg and watch it gloop into the bowl. "you don't have to keep saying that."

"we do, though," james said, a bit softer now. "we didn't make it easy for you, did we?"

you shrug, not looking at him. "it's fine."

"it's not," sirius's voice came from the doorway, rough but sincere. he looks like he hadn't slept much either. "it wasn't fair. we've been proper wrong about all of this."

you blink at him and bite at your bottom lip, unsure what to do with his sudden honesty.

"we should have said something when marlene and dorcas were acting that way," he adds, rubbing the back of his neck. "the fact that we didn't negates all of the friendliness we had shown you before."

your throat felt tight, but you nodded, busying yourself with whisking the eggs. "i...i just didn't want to change things for you lot."

"yeah," sirius said understanding. "but we knew change was coming when we agreed to let you live here. we wanted things to change."

james and sirius now stand at the kitchen counter with you, both boys looking sheepish and uncomfortable.

"if all marlene and dorcas know about you is that you're a slytherin, then they hadn't been paying attention as much as they should have been. not as much as i have been, anyways," chirps james. he runs a hand through his messy curls and finally finds his glasses to put on his head. "life has been better since you moved in. smells better in here, anyways."

"is that a joke about my shampoo and conditioner?" you smile incredulously, but laugh anyways.

later, when you tiptoe into the living room with a plate full of eggs and sausage, remus was still curled on the couch, your green blanket tangled around his legs. his breathing was steadier now, though his face still looked drawn, the edges of fresh bruises blooming across his skin.

you set the food on the table beside him and perch carefully on the edge of the opposite chair, just watching him for a moment.

"you can stop hovering," remus rasps, not even opening his eyes.

you startle. "i wasn't."

"you were."

"was not."

he cracks one eye open, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "thanks. for everything. you didn't have to make me breakfast."

"i wanted to," you murmured.

his smile faltered, like it almost hurt to hear. "don't get used to seeing me like this."

"too late."

he huffed a soft, tired laugh. "fine. but next time, you're staying far away."

"we'll see."

his eyes slip shut again, but his breathing was easy now. you lean back in the chair and sigh. his body is in worse shape than you had expected to see.

"james," you call quietly for the curly haired boy.

"yes, y/n?"

"can you get the mendwell salve and healer's hush from the bathroom?"

james stares at you as his ears turn red. "and how d'you expect me to know where that is."

you raise an eyebrow at him, as if to say do we not literally have a rule prohibiting you from using all my stuff in the bathroom? of course you know where the salves are!

james throws his hands up in surrender. "alright, alright," he mutters, shuffling off toward the bathroom, his socks sliding just slightly on the wooden floor.

you turn your gaze back to remus, who's now fully pretending to be asleep.

"you can drop the act," you mumble, holding a piece of sausage under his nose. "you're a terrible faker."

"don't know what you mean." he rasps, but there's no weight to it. he's letting you fuss over him. you'll take it. he chomps down on the sausage with a smile as grease coats his lips.

james returns, holding the two tins precariously in one hand. "i would like to state, for the record, that these were in plain sight. not hidden. not protected. completely accessible to anyone."

"you knew where these were because you keep using all my shampoo." you deadpan, reaching out to take the salves from him.

"your shampoo smells like the mermaid lagoons at crescent moon," james defends, crossing his arms. "who wouldn't want to smell like that?"

you bite back a laugh, focusing instead on carefully unscrewing the lid of the mendwell salve. the sour scent of the salve, that you were so familiar with, fills the air. "hold still," you say, dipping your fingers into the soft green cream.

"yes, ma'am," remus mumbles, trying and failing to not tense as your fingertips brush against the fresh cuts on his shoulder. "gods, that stinks."

you laugh, and work slowly, smoothing the salve over the angry skin. the cream sinks in and dulling the edges of his pain. you can feel him relax, bit by bit, under your touch.

"next salve, please!" you motion to james as you wipe your fingers off on a dish towel. he hands you the open jar. when you switch to the healer's hush—thicker, almost like honey—you catch remus watching you through half-lidded eyes.

"you're good at this," he says quietly.

"comes with the territory," you say, not meeting his gaze. "when your best friend is a walking magnet for broom accidents and untested spell burns, you get good at first aid."

"regulus made the draughts and salves, and you'd use them?"

"precisely. usually on myself and barty."

remus lets out a soft hum, like he's considering something. "i was wrong about him. and you."

you glance at him, surprised by the honesty. "you barely knew me."

"still," he shrugs, wincing just slightly. "wrong's wrong."

you don't say anything for a minute, focusing instead on the gentle circles you're rubbing into the bruises on his ribs.

"thank you," he adds, quieter now, like it costs him a lot to say it out loud. "for staying."

you pat his chest gently, right over his heartbeat. "where else would i be?"

remus closes his eyes again, but this time, there's no tension in his brow.

"so," james pipes up from his spot, clearly deciding he's done being left out. "what you're saying is, you don't mind if i keep using your shampoo?"

you throw the dish towel at his face. "james!"

that evening, remus had decided he wanted to rest by the ocean. that was easy, considering it was just in the backyard.

air smelled like salt and chips by the time the boys sprawled out on the beach, the takeaway bags crinkling between them. you'd all agreed to a slow evening for remus—no plans, no expectations, just the four of you and the sea air.

the sand was still warm under your legs as you settled near james, who was already determined to build the world's most structurally unsound sandcastle.

"that's not gonna hold," you said, watching him dig furiously with his hands.

"oi, i'm an architect now," james declares proudly, pushing his glasses up his nose, already smudged with sand. "you just don't see my vision."

"i see your vision," you said, barely hiding your grin, "and it's a pile."

"it's an abstract fortress," he corrects, tossing a handful of damp sand your way. "help me, or you're banned from my kingdom."

you lean in, starting to shape the lopsided mound with your hands. "your kingdom doesn't even have a moat."

"it will."

"sure, james."

behind you, remus was stretching out on a beach towel, eyes closed, the sun painting his face in soft gold. his breathing was easy now, steady, his arms folded loosely across his chest. occasionally, he hummed quietly when the sea breeze brushed past him.

out near the shoreline, padfoot bounded through the waves, the spray catching the fading light as he crashed joyfully in and out of the water. he barked sharply when a wave caught him off guard, earning a sleepy laugh from remus.

"idiot," remus mutters, not bothering to open his eyes.

you shape the top of the sandcastle carefully, smoothing the edges. "it's nice, isn't it?" you said, not really to anyone. "just...this."

"yeah," james agrees quietly, his usual energy softening. "it's been a while since we've just...."

you risked a glance at him, finding his expression unusually thoughtful as he packed another wall onto the lopsided castle. he didn't continue his sentence. he didn't have to.

"you're part of this, you know," he adds, flicking some sand toward your knee. "you're part of us now."

your throat tightens, but you covered it with a smirk. "just because i'm helping build your sad little tower?"

"especially because of that." he leans towards you and brushes his shoulder against yours, deciding that's where he wanted to stay. it made your cheeks burn like hell.

padfoot barreled toward you both, still wet from the sea, and you yelped as he shook out his fur right next to you, spraying saltwater all over your arms and james's glasses.

"pads!" james shouted, shielding the sandcastle with his arms. "you absolute menace!"

padfoot let out a proud bark before taking off down the beach again.

you laughed, heart full, the sky melting into pinks and oranges above you.

"leave him," remus murmurs to james, still stretched out, a lazy smile tugging at his mouth. "he's happy."

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 7. the kettle's gone cold

cw: chronic illness/condition (lycanthropy), physical injury and pain, emotional vulnerability, exhaustion, strained friendships, feelings of guilt and regret, references to self-isolation and social awkwardness

the boys came in carrying remus over their shoulders at around 5:30 in the morning. truthfully, the potions regulus had made helped remus tremendously. he still looked like hell. his shirt was torn, his hair was sticking to his forehead, but his breathing wasn't as ragged this time, his skin not so pale. they'd all known it could've been worse. it had been worse before.

your door was cracked open, soft breathing from inside your room the only sound besides the boys' footsteps. you'd waited up for them as long as you could. they could see the tea mug you'd abandoned on the counter. you'd even left your green blanket on the couch.

james and sirius settled remus down carefully onto the cushions, pulling your blanket over him. his face twitched like he was still fighting something in his sleep. his breathing came in fits and starts.

they sat in the quiet kitchen for a while, the kettle cold now, the air untouched. the silence sat heavy.

"y'know," james said eventually, staring at nothing, "she didn't have to help."

"i know."

"she's not like—" james frowned, hands rubbing at his knees. he was guilty. "not like the rest of 'em."

"yeah," sirius sighed. "i know."

a beat passed.

"marlene and dorcas were awful to her. and to barty. they looked at her like she was nothing. like he was nothing."

sirius leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "barty's a little shit, though. since birth, he's been."

james shot him a look, but there was no bite to it.

"look," sirius said, voice dropping. "i know i was a prick about it. the slytherin drools sign. it's not about their house. it's not even about that dinner party."

"then what's it about?"

sirius scratched at his jaw, stared down at his hands. "it's hard to be around him. regulus," as if james didn't know who he was talking about. "sitting there, just like that, like the last time i saw him alone we weren't screaming at each other. i thought i could handle it. but it—" he exhaled sharply. "it felt like i was fourteen again. like everything was about to go to shit. i knew she was his best friend when we agreed to let her move in. it was weird to have him reach out and ask for help...not because i didn't think he was capable of caring for other people, but because it's been a long time since it's felt like he cared about me like that."

james was quiet for a moment. "regulus isn't the same kid he was back then. he's a grown-up now. and so are you, pads."

"i know that."

"neither of you are the same."

sirius ran a hand through his hair, the motion rough, tired. "i know."

they sat in the quiet for a bit, the weight of the years sitting between them.

"she was right," james said eventually, voice soft. "she's right to feel awkward. she's right to feel like things have regressed."

"yeah," sirius murmured. "she is."

james glanced towards your room, the door still barely ajar. "the awkwardness has to stop. she's here. she's part of this. she wants to be."

"yeah."

"we didn't make her feel like that."

"yeah," sirius said, the guilt thick in his throat. he's never felt so bad. why? "we did."

james opens and closes his mouth like a fish. "but we can fix it, yeah?"

sirius looked over at remus, who'd begun to stir restlessly on the couch, breathing sharp, hands tightening in the blanket.

"he's going to be cross with us when he wakes up." sirius muttered.

"what else is new?" james huffed, standing to grab another blanket and carefully draping it over remus.

remus groans lowly on the couch, the sound tearing from his throat like it costs him something. his body is curled in on itself, as if he could make himself smaller, like he could hide from the pain still clawing at his ribs. sweat clings to his hairline, the sandy strands plastered messily to his forehead and temples. the rest of his hair sticks out in tangled tufts.

his breathing is labored, pulling sharp and uneven through gritted teeth. his knuckles are scraped, and there's a raw, angry gash across his left shoulder, the skin there pink and stretched thin like it's struggling to close. the edges are already bruising. his shirt is torn and half-hanging off of him, fabric sticking to the sheen of sweat across his back.

some of the older scars are visible now—pale lines scattered across his arms, his ribs, one long one trailing just beneath his collarbone, like some creature had tried to open him up and didn't quite finish the job. the fresh ones from this transformation bloom angry and red beside them, already scabbing over, already finding their place in the map of him.

his face is pale, lips chapped, a thin smear of blood crusted at the corner of his mouth. his jaw is tight like he's still grinding his teeth through it all.

he shifts, groaning again, dragging a trembling hand across his face like he's trying to wipe it all away, but his palm catches on a cut along his cheekbone, and he winces, breath stuttering.

"don't move, moony," james says, dropping to his haunches beside the couch, voice low and steady. "you're alright. we've got you."

but remus just exhales shakily, jaw ticking, and presses his fist into his sternum like he's trying to keep himself grounded.

remus cracked his eyes open, looking miserable and worn down. "where is she?"

"sleeping," sirius said.

"good," remus mumbled, closing his eyes again. "don't want her to see me like this."

james and sirius exchanged a look but didn't argue. they knew what he meant. they agreed.

"she helped," james said quietly, after a beat. "you know that, right? she stayed up for you. she got the potions. she did all of it."

"i know."

"we're all gonna have to stop pushing her away."

"i know."

remus was silent for a long time, his breathing slow, still a bit shaky.

"tell her thank you," he said eventually, his voice almost too soft to catch.

sirius smiled, just a little. "you can tell her yourself when you're not a miserable git."

remus let out the smallest huff of a laugh before drifting off again. guess there was no need for the third potion.

james and sirius sat there in the kitchen, the sun just beginning to touch the horizon.

"we'll do better," james said.

"yeah," sirius agreed. "we will."

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 6. just for now

cw: chronic illness/condition, emotional distress, social anxiety, isolation, strained friendships, mention of substance use (potions), mild frustration/bitterness, references to transformation (lycanthropy)

as you'd expected, the next week goes by similarly. when you get home from work, the boys are all hanging out and having a blast. two of the days, unfortunately for you, they had invited their little group of friends over. after the first interaction, you'd decided that apparating straight to your room was best.

marlene and dorcas were sitting on the armchair, and the rest of them were crowded onto the couch. they'd been playing some muggle card game you'd never heard of, and the cracking sound of your apparating had caused dorcas to drop all her cards.

"bloody hell!" she screamed out. the rest of the room just watched wide eyed as she picked up her cards, staring up at you like a dinosaur had just entered the house.

your chest was rising and falling quickly. "i-oh my gods—i'm so sorry!" you can't do much else but apologize and quickly move to your room.

you'd locked yourself in that night out of sheer embarrassment.

finally, though, you got a day off during the week! this meant the cottage should be completely empty, with the boys being off to their own duties. james, you had gathered, was doing auror training. sirius was a shopkeeper in diagon alley, where he sold vintage wizarding goods and clothes. remus, as far as you knew, worked as some sort of writer; maybe for the muggle paper.

you walk into the kitchen in your pajamas, just a big wizard sisters t-shirt and some fuzzy socks. as you were putting the kettle on the stove, you heard a stifled laughter from behind you.

"g'morning, princess," sirius says with a smirk. it's almost teasing, but not quite. "i see you're taking my no pants rule very seriously."

you gasp and hold a hand to your heart, sighing as you turn around to face him. "didn't know anyone else would be home today. you scared me half to death!"

he shrugs, like it's not a big deal, but there's a flicker of something else in his eyes.

"james and remus are around today," he says, nodding toward the living room.

you pause, trying not to let your heart skip. all three of them? on your day off? what is this, fate? gods.

"off?" you ask, keeping your voice casual.

"yeah," sirius says, and then he makes a vague gesture. "remus is... dealing with his thing."

you bite your lip, remembering the rumors you'd heard back at hogwarts. snape had tried to stir things up, but you had never cared for rumors. even if they did seem painfully true...people don't just disappear the day after a full moon every month.

"right," you say, forcing a lightness into your voice. "if you want, i could help out. make some tea, keep you guys from murdering each other."

james pokes his head out from behind the couch, rubbing at his eyes like he hasn't slept. "couldn't hurt."

remus just gives a tight smile and a nod, avoiding your gaze.

sirius leans against the doorway, folding his arms. "don't feel like you have to."

"i don't," you say quickly, and then slower, softer, "but i want to. i can contact reggie and see if he has any calming draughts..."

there's a pause. it's the kind of pause where you can almost hear the things left unsaid.

"well," james finally says, pushing off the couch, "the more distractions, the better."

you nod, trying not to overthink it as you reach for the kettle again. by now, you know what sort of tea everyone likes. remus tends to go for chamomile or earl grey, sirius likes his tea black (shocker), and james likes a milky english breakfast tea, just like you.

you nudge your wand towards each mug and float them over to each boy, respectively. remus looks up and sends a tired smile to thank you.

you turn back into the kitchen and clean out the kettle. you barely glance at sirius before slipping your wand out of your sleeve. you don't want to make a thing of it. you just need to send a quick message to reggie, and lord knows he wouldn't let your mail owl in while he's brewing.

"it's a health hazard!" he'd hissed previously.

a quiet expecto patronum leaves your lips, and a small silver stoat bursts from your wand tip, darting around the kitchen like it's sniffing for trouble. you barely even look at it as you whisper your message. "send a calming draught. full moon tonight. actually, send anything that might help him."

the stoat flicks its tail and disappears out the window. you turn back to the sink.

"holy shit," james says from the living room. "did you just cast a patronus?"

you stiffen. "yeah. jus' needed to send a message."

sirius whistles softly, impressed. "didn't know you could do that."

"not everyone can," remus says quietly, eyes watching you like you're a mystery.

"yeah, it's rare," james adds, sounding impressed. "that was...actually pretty cool. didn't even know you could send messages with them. i'm going to become even more annoying now."

you shrug and laugh at james, trying to look casual, but your cheeks burn a little.

"what animal are you?" sirius asks, curious now. "your patronus, i mean."

"a stoat," you respond quietly.

"small and fast, huh?" remus nods thoughtfully.

"but nervous, too, aren't they." james says with a smirk.

"i'm not nervous!" you furrow your brows, feeling a bit defensive.

"show us again?" sirius pipes up, a little too eager.

there's a pause, but it's lighter now. they're interested in you again! the tension loosens, just a bit. "erm—alright. expecto patronum!"

there she goes! a whispy white stoat bounces around the room, crawling up your shoulders and weaving between the curtains.

"well," james says, stretching, "i guess i should show off too."

he flicks his wand, and a glowing stag appears, prancing across the room. your stoat climbs up his stag and sits atop his antlers, settling in sweetly before they both dissipate.

"mine's a doe," remus says quietly.

a doe and a stag? you think. interesting.

sirius leans back, a slow grin spreading. "big black dog for me."

you look at sirius again. something clicks in your mind. oh shit!

"are you the big black dog that runs around the yard?!" the boys bark with laughter, though remus' is quieter. it must pain him still to laugh and move too much. "i thought you were a stray! you let me feed you! a-and scruffle your hair! oh my gods."

"wanted to see what the animals at crescent moon got to experience!" his smile now was boyish.

later on, remus is resting his eyes on the patio. he's got his eyes covered by a weighted mask, and his body is covered in a blanket. his breathing looks forced, like it hurts him to even try and stay alive.

"we've helped him through this since we were thirteen years old," sirius says as he stares at remus through the window. "that's nearly ten years of this, of pain for him."

"regulus has always been an excellent potions maker," you reassure sirius from your spot on the floor. "whatever he sends will surely help remus tonight."

he hums like he wants to believe you, but the familial drama stops him from being too sure.

a soft flutter from the window caught your attention. a whispy magpie flew gracefully inside, landing lightly on the kitchen table with a small leather pouch tied to its talons.. you untie it carefully, pulling out three vials filled with swirling blue-green liquid. each was labeled in regulus's neat handwriting.

you unfold the note tucked inside and read it aloud quietly to yourself:

"y/n—

the first vial is a calming draught. it helps soothe nerves and ease tension without dulling the senses. good for when the nights get long and restless. he should take this straight away.

the second is a moonbane tincture. it doesn't stop the change, but eases the pain and confusion that come with it. best taken just before the moon rises. he'll remember who he is.

the third is a simple sleeping potion, mild and safe, to help him rest after. use sparingly, and only if the night gets too much. don't let sirius get his paws on this.

don't hesitate to ask if you need more, or if anything changes. i've got plenty these vials packed away.

r.a.b."

you trace your finger over the script, feeling the weight of the gesture. regulus wasn't one for sentiment, especially when it came to anybody that had something to do with his brother, but this was as close as you'd get.

"all right," you said softly, holding up the calming draught. "let's see if i can make a decent brew for you."

in the small kitchen, james and sirius watch quietly as you set the kettle to boil again, measuring the tincture carefully into a cracked ceramic mug. the faint scent of lavender and something sharp, maybe mint, rose as you poured hot water over it and stirred slowly.

"smells... okay," sirius said, frowning slightly. "like fancy tea."

"tastes better than i expected," james admits, lifting his mug with a wince.

"you tasted it?!?"

"just a bit!" the potter boy defends himself. sirius scolds the boy as you walk out of the kitchen.

you top off remus's cup and bring it out to him. hearing your footsteps, he moves his eye mask and peeks up at you.

"start with this," you said. "i'll keep an eye on you."

"what is it?"

"drink."

the hours stretched on as the night deepened. the fire flickered low in the hearth, casting shadows that shifted with the three pairs of eyes locked on remus. his fingers tapped faster against the table now, and every so often his gaze flicked to the window, the silver moon just beginning to show behind thin clouds.

"i don't know how you do this," james mutters at one point, voice low. "have to keep it all bottled up like that."

remus gave a half-shrug, staring at the moonlight as it reflects across the water outside. "you don't. you just learn where the edges are, and try not to fall over."

sirius reaches over, hand resting briefly on remus's shoulder, steady and sure. "we've got you. even if you don't like to admit it."

remus smiled, the faintest flicker of relief showing in his eyes.

but as the moon climbed higher, the air grew heavier, thicker with something unspoken. you could feel the shift, like the quiet before a storm. remus's fingers clench and unclench, his breathing growing shallow.

"it's coming," he said, voice tight. "i've got to go to the cave."

"wait!" you all but shout, accio-ing the moonbane tincture into your hands. you poured the moonbane tincture into a fresh cup of tea,warm and ready.

"here," you said softly, sliding it across to him. "this one next. helps with the pain."

he stares at your hands, not sure if he can take it.

"moonbane tincture. from reggie."

then, he takes it without a word, and you watch as the tension visibly eases from his shoulders.

"how are you feeling?" you asked gently.

"like a caged animal," he admitted, voice low. "but this helps. i've got to go now."

you look out towards the cave just near the dunes by the cottage. it's dark, uninviting, the perfect place for remus to take his transformation.

you step forward instinctively, but he turns back, his expression firm.

"you should stay here." his big, scarred hands lightly touch your wrists. you look at him now. his sandy hair is sticking to his forehead, his big hazel eyes are squinting with pain, but it's still him. it's still remus, the only one of your roommates who had dared to talk to you since the awkward dinner.

you glance down at his hands on your wrists. the touch...it's not harsh, but it's not soft either. it's a wall he's trying to build between you.

"i can help," you offer, your voice small but steady. "i can get more potions—calming spells—"

"it's not that simple." his jaw tightens. "you haven't seen me like that. it's... not something you can just fix."

sirius glances at you from the corner of his eye, like he's warning you to let it go. but you can't.

"but—"

"this isn't going to make us like you more," remus snaps, but it comes out too fast, too sharp. he winces. you don't even flinch. he only said that to make you stay away. "i'm sorry, y/n. the boys—"

"we've done this a hundred times, fawley," sirius interrupts gently, his voice quieter now. "it's what we do."

james has already started rolling his shoulders, that telltale shimmer of magic starting to pull at his fingertips. "we've got him. you should stay."

"it's safer," remus says, voice low. "for all of us. please."

that please softens something in your chest.

you want to argue. you want to insist. but there's something final in the way he says it, like he's already decided it's better this way.

so you nod, even though your throat burns.

sirius catches your eye and tilts his head, a small grin creeping in. "watch this, yeah?"

then—he's gone. replaced in an instant by the huge, shaggy black dog, fur ruffled by the wind.

james follows with a sharp flick of his wand, his body folding in on itself until the stag stands proud and shining in the moonlight.

the familiar black dog trots over, nudging your knee with his nose before bounding after james into the cave.

you sit there, alone now, watching the fire crackle and spit in the damp air. you don't know how long you sit like that. maybe hours. maybe the whole night.

sometimes you hear growling. sometimes howling. once, you think you hear sirius barking. playful, sharp, alive.

you press your hands to your chest, feeling the beat of your own heart thudding painfully behind your ribs.

previous next

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 5. awkward....

cw: casual profanity, social anxiety, emotional discomfort, feelings of isolation, subtle familial tension, implied past trauma, friendship complexities

you woke up to the smell of burnt toast and someone swearing in the kitchen.

your head throbs—not from the wine, but more of a social hangover. the kind that came from too many new faces, too many old grudges, and the quiet, creeping realization that maybe you didn't belong here after all.

you dres slowly, dragging your feet as you made your way downstairs. the house was quiet except for clinking plates and the occasional huff of frustration. you found remus in the kitchen, holding a very charred piece of toast with tongs like it had personally offended him.

"morning," he said, glancing up.

"mornin'," you mutter, pulling a mug from the cupboard.

"coffee?"

"please." the warmth of it helped. barely.

you sat at the table, watching the crumbs scatter as remus set a plate in front of you. toast, salvageable. eggs, scrambled unevenly. a peace offering, maybe.

but it didn't help the way you still felt like a guest in a house you were supposed to call home.

"you alright?" he asks after a moment.

you shrug. "depends. is this where you all secretly vote me out?"

he blinks. "what?"

"nothing," you said quickly, but the bitterness bled through anyway. "just... not sure your friends are thrilled about mine."

remus leans back in his chair. he didn't deny it. didn't try to fix it, either. just nodded slowly, like he understood.

"it was... a lot," he admits. "different circles. old stories. bad timing."

"even james thinks they're sketchy. he thinks i'm sketchy now, too!"

"james thinks anyone not sorted into gryffindor is sketchy," remus said dryly. "it's a personality flaw. he probably hadn't thought anything about you being a slytherin until he saw you with them."

you laugh, but it doesn't feel good. "he looked at me like i brought the wrong sort of people into his home."

"it's not just his home," remus said gently. "and your people are...your people. that matters."

you nod, but the ache stays. especially because you'd seen the way james looked at lily—and the way she didn't look back. it made you feel even more like an outsider in a story you hadn't been invited to. and almost mad that she'd toy with him in front of his friends.

"and lily?" you ask quietly.

remus sighs. "it's complicated. they were... almost something. maybe still are. depends on the week. depends on her mood."

you didn't say anything.

you were too busy wondering if you'd accidentally stepped into a house where everything and everyone had a history—and you were just another temporary addition.

when you arrive at the crescent moon that morning, you were happier to see barty than you had ever been before.

"good morning, b!" you call out to him from the nursery room. in your arms, you cradle a baby demiguise. "d'you want to go see barty, ickle demi?"

"good morning mum," he teases you with a point to the baby in your arms. "what are you, practicing domestic life? if you wanted a baby, lovely, all you had to do was ask me."

"har har, junior." you say as you hand the baby demiguise over to him. the baby immediately reached for him, its long fingers tangling in the fringe of his hair.

barty let it cling to him, softening despite himself. "you ever think they can feel things?" he asked absently, eyes still on the creature. "like when you're sad? or just tired of pretending everything's fine?"

"i don't know," you said quietly. "but she wouldn't let go of me all morning."

barty looked up then, really looked at you.

"you okay?"

you didn't answer. you didn't have to. the baby demiguise reached its arms toward you again, and barty just hummed.

"figured," he said. he passed it back to you without another word. and for the first time since last night, you felt like maybe you weren't completely alone." your roommates' friends were right gits," he added, casually bitter as he scratched behind the demiguise's ear. "talkin' to us like we were criminals. marlene and dorcas acting like they own the bloody place—haven't even met us properly."

now, he was just grumbling angrily.

you snorted into the soft fur. "news flash, they don't know the truth of your criminal record yet!"

"exactly!" barty exclaimed, throwing up his hands. "at least let me earn your disgust."

you smiled, small and crooked. "you've earned mine plenty."

"not in the way they think," he said with a wink, leaning back in his chair like he hadn't just declared open war on house gryffindor.

you glanced down at the baby demiguise curled in your arms. she blinked up at you with wide, silvery eyes....quiet, knowing, calm.

barty looks at you, eyes sharp. "look, you've known sirius forever, yeah? remus was being decent last night, even if he's a bit awkward with all this. james? he's just embarrassed 'cause lily showed up and told him off. it ain't about you. whatever you're feeling...it isn't you, lovely."

you blink, surprised by his words.

"the shit that went down last night," barty said, "it'll sort itself. just don't let those gits make you feel like you don't belong. you do."

your eyes sting just a little bit and you lean your body against barry's arm. he opens up to give you a hug.

the day goes on with you and barty nursing all of the new baby animals. around lunch time, it had begun to rain horribly, but you still had to tend to the little creatures.

it takes a lot of convincing to get you to go back to the cottage after closing up the rescue center. you heavily debated just apparating to your mother's manor, but barty told you the tension there would make the tension at the cottage seem like a joke.

sigh.

when you arrive back at the cottage, you're still soaking wet. the first thing you notice after apparating into the living room of the cottage was how cozy the three boys looked. you had rain dripping steadily from your hair and sleeves, the cold clinging to your skin despite the warmth glowing from the fireplace. the living room is a soft oasis of light and noise. and there they were:   the marauders sprawled on the couch, caught up in a movie—james with his arm draped casually over sirius's shoulder, remus leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, eyes flicking between the screen and his friends.

"hey," sirius says without looking up, voice easy but distant, like he's half-present.

you shrug out of your soaked cloak, water pooling quietly at your feet. your fingers tremble slightly from the cold, even as you move toward the fireplace.

"you're soaked through," remus says softly, eyes briefly meeting yours. with a small flick of his wand, a warm shimmer ripples through the damp fabric, steam rising as it dries you. the gesture is kind, but awkward—like he's trying not to make it a bigger deal than it is.

"thanks," you say quietly, pulling your sleeves close to your chest, trying not to shiver. you settle down on the edge of a chair a few feet from the couch, careful to keep some space between you and the easy closeness of the others.

the movie plays on, the flickering light casting shadows on james's face as he laughs, but there's something else there—a tension you can't place.

james pauses the film, glancing your way with a quick, confused smile. "had to work in the rain?"

"yeah," you answer, voice low and steady, though you feel exposed in the room's warmth. your eyes drop to your hands folded tightly in your lap.

"want a blanket or something?" sirius offers, stretching out on the couch, but there's no real invitation in his tone, more like he's offering out of habit than concern.

"i'm fine," you reply, managing a small smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes. you tuck your legs under you, shrinking into yourself without really thinking.

remus shifts in his seat, clearing his throat as if he wants to say something, but the words don't come. he looks back at the screen, retreating into the easy rhythm of the group.

you listen to their laughter, their quiet jokes and teasing comments. it's all so familiar to them. a language you don't know how to speak yet. you feel the quiet space growing between you and the three of them, an invisible barrier built out of unspoken things.

the three of them hadn't had to accept the fact that your friends were different from their friends...not until they were all in the same room. and gryffindors are loyalists, after all. it makes sense that they would care what marlene, dorcas, and lily think about who they're living with and the people that you might invite over.

quietly, you stand from your chair and head down the hallway to your room. no one asks if you're okay. no one reaches out beyond the small kindness of drying your sleeves.

and you won't ask for anything more.

it was your fault for letting yourself get close with them blindly, without really knowing who they were. and truthfully, it was their faults, too, for opening up to fast and letting you in without knowing you you really are either.

this is all a convenience for them, you decide. to lower their rent, get in line with the lease agreement, and that's all.

previous next

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 4. a modern day fanny cradock

cw: casual profanity, chaotic dinner party, house rivalries (marlene slander sorry), social tension, awkward interactions, implied family estrangement,

you should have known the moment they said a casual dinner that it would more than likely be anything but.

by mid-afternoon, there were four pots on the stove, three dishes in the oven, and five different types of cookies left to cool on the window sill.

"isn't that old-fashioned?" remus had asked you, eyeing the cookie line-up with a grin.

you scoffed and stirred a pot on the stove. "you know nothing about proper cookie cooling, rem."

you could have sworn he blushed at your nickname for him.

"a little help, please!" sirius calls from the living room. as you enter, you see fairy lights half hanging from the wall, and an explosion of mismatched party supplies the boys had obviously hoarded over the years: happy birthday! it's a boy! goodbye, 1981! gryffindor rules, slytherin drools!

"hey!" you exclaim as you point at the last sign. sirius grins sheepishly and shrugs his shoulders. nevertheless, you flick your wand and levitate the other end of the fairy lights to hang up on the wall. "very pretty, sirius."

"thanks, lovely!"

"stand back, friends," james warns as he cracks his knuckles like the drama queen he is. he aims his wand at the four-person table in the dining room. you wince as james casts the spell. "engorgio!"

the table expands, and expands, and—

"james!" sirius shouts, bracing himself for impact.

from the hallway, remus mutters—barely audible—"reducio."

the table settled into a perfect, ten-person arrangement. james turns slowly, his face overtaken by a sheepish smile.

"s'a good thing none of us panicked," he said proudly.

the food was ready. the fairy lights were up. james had somehow set the dining room table without setting anything on fire or blowing it up. it was, against all odds, beginning to look like a real party.

you weren't sure if that made you feel better—or significantly worse.

"just a few friends," they said.

right. friends you didn't really know. luckily, your own friends were coming, too. you just didn't want to feel out of place.

"you okay?" remus asks from your side, voice low. he was lighting the last of the candles with a lazy flick of his wand.

"yeah," you said, smoothing your hands down the front of your shirt. "just... a little nervous."

he smiles. it was small and warm and careful. "they'll like you."

"what if i don't like them?" you whisper. "what if my friends are mean to them? you know junior..."

his smile widens, just a fraction. "then we'll let sirius poison everyone's drinks."

"hey!" sirius calls from across the room, "no secret plotting without me!"

before you could answer, the door knocks—three sharp raps, one long.

sirius grins. "that's marls. she always knocks like that."

you barely step forward when the door bursts open and marlene mckinnon struts inside, all leather boots and energy. she looks like she hadn't walked—she'd stormed her way across the sandy lawn.

"hellooo, my beloved idiots!" she declares. you take her in. her tanned skin, honey blonde hair, and eclectic sense of fashion made her seem fun. you like her, you decide.

behind her, dorcas meadowes follows with a much more subdued smirk and a bottle of wine in each hand.

"is this the new housemate?" dorcas asks, eyeing you with curious, amused eyes.

"y/n," you said, sticking out your hand. "y/n fawley."

"dorcas," she replied, ignoring the handshake entirely and pulling you into a one-armed hug. "you'll survive us. barely."

you blinked after her as she wandered into the kitchen. "just you wait..." you murmur. marlene had already launched into a loud story about someone getting hexed on the wizard tube.

next came a flare of green in the fireplace—and then pandora, evan, and regulus stepped out in sequence. familiar faces. your stomach unclenched, just slightly.

"she lives!" pandora cheers, throwing her arms around you with her usual whimsical drama. "i've brought crystals, wine, and two very judgmental men."

"i'm not judgmental," evan mutters.

"you literally are," regulus replies, brushing soot from his sleeves with precise fingers. "but i am, too."

"and yet we showed up," evan said, eyeing the room. "go us!"

you squeeze regulus's arm in greeting, and he offers a quick smile and hug before getting distracted by whatever ridiculous banner sirius had hung crookedly on the wall.

"why the hell do you have that sign, sirius!"

"to piss you off, reginald!"

"reginald?!?"

"c'mere, pans," you say as you grab your best friend's hand and drag her to the kitchen. "you'll have to tell me all about you and xeno. don't think i haven't noticed your lack of letters!"

you were in the middle of showing pandora where the drinks were when the next guest walked in—without knocking.

"hope this is the right place!" came barty crouch junior's voice as he dramatically held up a casserole dish that looked suspiciously unstable.

you narrow your eyes. "barty....what is that?"

"you'll find out when it hatches," he said solemnly.

"hatches?!" pandora squeaks. "i can see the nargles all around that pie, junior!"

he grins and strolls past you both like this conversation was entirely normal. his spiky brown hair with green streaks seem to shock marlene and dorcas as he walks by them. all you could do was smirk.

you catch sight of lily evans through the open door before she even came in. she was standing outside talking—arguing?—with someone just out of view.

she steps inside with a tight smile, auburn hair slightly windblown and cheeks flushed. a few seconds later, james follows her in, looking... embarrassed.

"lilypad," sirius calls, far too loudly. "you've arrived!"

she gives a short wave to the room and immediately walks past james without looking at him.

"oof," you hear remus mutter under his breath from beside you.

sirius leans toward you. "they used to date," he whispered, eyes wide with delight. "he's been trying to win her back since new year's."

"oh i remember," you say, glancing towards pandora who was busying herself with barry's dish. "he climbed up on the table at least once a term to declare his love for her...poor thing."

"and how's that going for potter?" regulus asks. always the gossip, that one.

"terribly," remus answers, sipping his drink.

"tragic," james said loudly, trying to act like nothing was wrong as he poured himself a suspicious amount of wine.

you stand by the drinks table, eyes scanning the now very full living room. marlene was arguing with barty over which house produced better lovers. dorcas was critiquing james' attempt at a charcuterie board. regulus had already found the comfiest chair and looked ready to start charging rent.

you felt like worlds were colliding.

remus, sensing your unease, passes you a glass of wine. sirius throws an arm around your shoulder and declares, "it's a madhouse now, isn't it!" james winks at you from across the room like he was pretending none of the lily-related tension existed.

you take a sip, sigh, and murmur to yourself:

"it could be worse... casserole could still hatch."

dinner was served—though "served" might've been a generous word for what actually happened.

what really happened was everyone grabbed whatever food they could reach, argued over utensils, spilled wine twice (sirius and then barty), and somehow, somehow, ended up seated more or less around the very-overgrown dining table like some sort of cursed sitcom family.

you had ended up between remus and pandora, which felt like neutral ground. james was directly across from lily, of course—because fate is cruel—and sirius sat at the head of the table like he thought he'd been elected something.

"cheers to not blowing up the kitchen," james announces, raising his glass.

"yet," regulus mutters, causing evan to snicker.

"and cheers to new beginnings. we're happy to have you, fawley!" remus lupin sends you a warm smile.

everyone clinks, more or less, and tucks in.

"so, y/n," marlene asks, her loud voice still not settling well in your ears. "what is it that you do for work?"

you swallow a forkful of mashed potatoes and wipe the corners of your mouth. "i'm a magizoologist. i work over at crescent moon with barty."

"damn right you do, lovely," barty beams proudly, pointing at you with his steak-covered fork. "we make a right good team, too! best field duo there ever was!"

you nod, smiling amused. "it's...less exciting than he makes it sound."

"it is not," he objects. "you're just humble. show 'em the bruises!"

there's a pause as the others process this. marlene blinks. "wait. you work with crouch?"

"yes," you say slowly, unsure if that's good or bad. in their eyes. not that it mattered...

"and you, rosier?" marlene asks, though this time in a less friendly tone.

ah...the house rivalry. it still hadn't left these proud gryffindors.

evan sets down his wine glass slowly, regarding her with the kind of disinterest only someone born in velvet robes could pull off. "security consulting."

"for who?" marlene presses, tone light but sharp.

"private clients," he replies, calm and unreadable. "some ministry-adjacent."

you glance between them, tensing slightly. pandora, sensing it too, touches your elbow under the table.

marlene and evan couldn't know each other at all, at least not outside of their years being rivals on the quidditch field. even still, how could she judge evan or barty (or you, you were wondering now if she was judging you) because of their hogwarts house? it had been at least 6 years since she had graduated, anyway...

"evan works with magical protections," pandora says breezily, trying to soften the edge. "wards, counter-curses, big dramatic runes. very impressive. at least our mum seems to think." she teases.

"and probably illegal," dorcas mutters into her brussels.

regulus finally looks up from his perfectly-arranged plate. "so is jaywalking, meadowes, and i don't see you hexing people in the street."

sirius lets out a barking laugh before catching himself, and you watch his face twist into something unreadable when his eyes meet regulus's.

"hello, baby brother," he says, tone sing-song and biting.

"hello, disgrace of the family," regulus replies, almost kindly.

you grimace. this dinner has certainly gone wrong.

"and regulus?" lily asks suddenly, her first real words of the evening. she's looking between you and the three slytherins like she's trying to solve a puzzle. "what do you do now?"

"i'm a potions assistant." he responds shortly.

"oh," she says. it's polite. not unkind. just... unfamiliar.

"weird crowd, this is." james mutters under his breath, not quite quietly enough. you watch his eyes flick toward evan, then regulus, then barty, to pandora, and you think for a moment he might even mean you.

you bristle slightly.

"better than no crowd," barty mutters, loud enough for everyone to hear. "better than your crowd."

the air goes a little still.

"my crystals told me this dinner might take a turn....anyway!" pandora chirps, too cheerfully, "this roast is divine, y/n. you have to tell me what herbs you used."

you exhale and reach for the wine.

as you pour, you meet remus's eyes again. he offers you a crooked smile. comforting.

it's awkward. it's tense. it's full of people you don't fully know, and old grade-school grudges that still linger just beneath the surface.

but it's real.

and maybe—just maybe—that's a start.

previous next

[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 3. ground rules

cw: casual profanity, domestic chaos, mild suggestive humor, housemate shenanigans, implied past relationship tension, mushy friendship

your first few nights in the house were great. sirius served you all tea and sandwiches, james helped you put together all of your decorations, and remus made sure you all went to bed before midnight. it was a sweet dynamic you had walked into.

you almost didn't want to ruin it by mentioning the list you'd created.

by this morning, the illusion of harmony had started to crack—not in any serious way, just in the way that three boys sharing a house might slowly unravel a fourth person's patience. sirius had left butter out on the counter again—"it's supposed to be spreadable, remus"—, james had enchanted the mirror in the bathroom you both share to give daily quidditch stats, and someone accidentally shrunk your favorite sweater while doing a shared load of laundry. no one had confessed. sirius claimed laundry machines were a muggle curse.

"how else do you do laundry?" remus cursed, giving himself away as he bit his knuckles.

so, you do the sensible thing...what any woman would do! you summon a chalkboard and call a house meeting.

"right," you said, placing your hands on your hips as the three boys blink up at you from the sofa like you'd just interrupted a very important documentary about dragons in leather jackets.

"is this a mutiny?" sirius asks, suspicious. he looks far too comfortable lounging on the corner of the couch.

"no," you say sweetly, "but it could become one if you don't sit up and contribute. we are writing house rules."

james groans and glops sideways on the couch dramatically. "we're adults, y/n. adults don't need rules."

"adults also don't spill tea on the couch and blame the dog," you shoot back with a smirk.

"we don't have a dog."

"exactly!"

remus snorts from behind his mug. "we kind of have a dog."

"what?!" your face scrunches up with confusion, but you shake your head regardless. james and sirius let out too loud of laughs and you glare, turning around to walk away with crossed arms.

"wha—" james opens his mouth as you stalk back to your room. "hey, y/n, come back! i promise we'll listen."

"yeah, y/n, we'll be good. i promise. no more dog jokes."

you turn around slowly with squinted eyes. as you once again near the chalkboard, you write the number one on the board.

1. no dark or explosive magic indoors.

"seems easy enough," remus nods, impressed. "might be hard for james, though. the explosive bit."

james scowls and crosses his muscular arms over his chest. "whatever." he mutters.

2. everyone will contribute to chores, even if it sucks.

"we already all do that, fawley." sirius says with a proud tone, shaking his head at you.

"right, sirius, but you haven't let me help."

"pish posh!"

3. no stealing shampoo, conditioner, or body wash.

you don't even have to speak after writing down this one.

"but s'not my fault!" james whines loudly. "my father made the worlds best hair care products. all i want to do is compare!"

4. no—

"oooh, i know!" sirius exclaims with a shit-eating grin. "no pants after 9pm."

remus' lips upturn at this suggestion. "what the bloody hell are you talking about?!" though his mouth is twitching like he's fighting a smile.

"you heard me," sirius replies, sitting up straighter and twirling a piece of chalk like it's a wand. "no pants after 9 p.m. it's a lifestyle. it's freedom. it's tradition."

"since when?" james snorts, clearly delighted.

"since we all already walk around the place in just boxers," sirius argues, already halfway to convincing himself. "or y/n in a big ass t-shirt."

you blink slowly. "sirius, we're not making that a rule."

"why not?" he protests. "it builds character. and keeps us cool."

remus coughs into his tea awkwardly. "the silence right now is deafening."

"fine, fine," sirius sighs dramatically, flopping back on the couch. "but if you find me pantsless in the kitchen after hours, don't say i didn't warn you."

4. no potion-making in the kitchen unless it's edible and smells good (this is why we have regulus)

"does the smell of victory count?" james asks, lifting an eyebrow.

"do you want to be the victory that explodes in the oven?" you counter.

remus lifts his mug slightly. "i vote yes on this one. i still haven't recovered from last year's pepper-up cupcake incident."

"my pepper-up cupcakes were going to be brilliant," sirius shouts. "it was regulus who gave me the faulty recipe."

"ah yes. the potion-maker gave you a fault potion recipe, pads."

5. guests must be approved by two house members minimum.

"you know this applies to you, too, right?"

you look at sirius with your most unimpressed face. "this rule exists because of you."

"no," he protests. "it exists because you're friends with crouch!"

"barty is just as chaotic as you are!"

james gasps dramatically and braces the couch with his hands. "what an insult to sirius!"

6. no magically altering shared spaces without everyone's consent.

you point at the bathroom mirror with your chalk. "looking at you, potter."

james puts his hands up in surrender. "i was just trying to help us stay informed. stats are important. morale, you know?" he sways sirius' shoulder lightly, looking for backup.

"so is brushing my teeth without hearing about the wasps' defensive strategy," you reply flatly.

sirius leans back, lacing his fingers behind his head. "this is honestly the most structure i've had in my entire life. i love it."

remus eyes the board thoughtfully. "are we writing down the stereotypical no-hooking-up-with-your-roommates rule?"

the room falls completely silent.

sirius raises an eyebrow. james coughs into his sleeve. your face heats, just slightly.

you clear your throat. "i mean...did you have that rule with your last roommate?"

remus' lips tighten just a bit.

sirius smirks with a hum.

"wasn't much of a need for that rule with him...i mean no offense." james spat out, though his tone is awkward, like he regrets even opening his mouth.

"and is there a need for it now?" you ask, eyes flickering between the boys without meaning to.

silence.

whether it's awkward or... something else, you don't know. you sigh, turn back to the board, and write:

7. no romantic entanglements between housemates.

you cap the chalk and step back from the board, hands on your hips.

"seven rules. that feels solid," james says, nodding like you've just founded a government.

"solidly oppressive," sirius mutters, though he's smiling. "i suppose we should mark the occasion somehow. y'know? we've established a new beginning in the marauder's cottage!"

"what, with a solemn vow and a blood pact?" you ask, almost too enthusiastically.

"i was thinking more...dinner. maybe even a party?" remus says casually, rinsing out his mug in the kitchen sink. "something to make the cottage feel more like y/n's."

james perks up immediately. "i love that idea! we can invite everyone—lily, marlene, regulus, even crouch if he promises not to hex the cutlery. and all the others!"

"he hexed a cup once," you say defensively. "and it was self-defense. i had hexed his, too!"

sirius claps his hands together, suddenly energized. "it's settled, then! dinner tonight. casual, loud, maybe a bit chaotic—just the way we like it."

"how many people total are we talking?" you ask, warily eyeing the space.

"oh, you know," james says. "just a few friends."

you narrow your eyes. "define few."

sirius and james exchange a look.

shit.

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[whimsymoonpages]

chapter 2. three men and one lady

cw: casual profanity, brief mention of chronic illness, moving stress, light teasing and name-calling, chaotic friendship dynamics, mushy friendship

"right boys, house meeting!" sirius black's voice rings out through the nice cottage. he shares it with his two best friends, james potter and remus lupin. "chop chop!"

james saunters into the room in his quidditch workout gear, still sweaty from his practice. remus, on the other hand, enters the living room with his laptop in his hands, not bothering to look up at either of the other boys.

"what's this all about then, pads?" asks james, his glasses slightly crooked on his nose. "got another special package in the mail?" he wiggles his eyebrows.

"no, you idiot," says sirius, his gray eyes rolling to the back of his head. "i have a proposition!"

"and what might the proposition be?" remus asks. he shuts his laptop and brings his legs up to be crisscross on the couch.

sirius grins—the type of grin that his friends know he's been scheming behind their backs. "so you know how we've all been complaining about how expensive it's been to rent this house since peter's moved out, yeah?"

"yeah," says james confused. he cocks his head to the side, and sirius doesn't miss how his nose scrunches up at the mention of their old roommate. "and moody's been hounding us to find a fourth person to be in line with the lease."

"well, i have the perfect solution!" sirius flicks his wand, and the sheet they use for movie nights unravels from the ceiling. the projector across the room turns on, and a singular word presents itself before them all.

ROOMMATE, it says in big bold letters.

remus's eyes are filled with amusement. "great presentation, pads," he says. "and who might you be thinking could be our roommate?"

"here's where it gets a bit tricky," sirius winces. he flicks his wand once more and a picture appears on the screen.

james' mouth opens, and he stares at the screen and confusion. "y/n fawley? isn't that your brother's roommate?"

"was my brother's roommate," sirius corrects. "my dear brother has decided he's going to move in with his new boyfriend, a one mr. evan rosier, thus leaving miss y/n fawley roommateless and in need of a place to stay. evidently, things are desperate according to reggie. she needs a place to move in, like, yesterday."

"and you think she'd be a good fit here?" remus asks wearily. "i mean with us being... how we are and me having my... condition. i wouldn't want it to be awkward."

a beat goes by.

"also...she's a girl."

"i don't think it would be awkward!" james exclaims his brown eyes, big with excitement. "it just means we get a new friend! and maybe reggie would be over more... wouldn't that make you happy, siri?"

"it would make me happy, prongsie. so smart, you are!" he ruffles james's hair, and the latter boy smiles at the touch. "i say we give it a go."

part of sirius felt selfish for springing this upon his friends so quickly, but he couldn't help but feel excited. he'd known you since you were born—literally. you would be a fun little addition to the cottage! plus, he knew it would be a relief for their landlord, moody. abiding by the law, and such.

"i agree with you pads," says the potter boy happily. "remus?"

the whole house seems to glare into remus' soul.

the sandy-haired boy sighs and wipes his face. "if you guys think it's a good idea, then let's go for it. it will be nice for rent to go back down."

"then it's settled," sirius says with a clap of his hands. "let's go pick up our new roommate!"

meanwhile, things back at your house had become a bit chaotic. after regulus told you his solution, you immediately had to start packing your belongings. after all you, had to be out by tomorrow, anyways. barty and evan came back to help you pack your stuff up, while regulus was at his new place unpacking all of his belongings. it was a mess, really.

"bloody hell, how many pairs of shoes can a woman have?" evan groans as he piles them all into a box. "seriously, lovely, you have a shoe for every day of the year!"

you roll your eyes playfully as you leviosa all of your folded clothes into suitcases. "don't be so dramatic, ev. you just wait until you see all of reggie's potionware."

"yes, fawley, but that's for his job," quips evan with a pointed look and a smile. "last i heard, your job doesn't involve wearing stilettos every day of the week."

"maybe lovely has a night job we don't know about, rosie!" junior barks from the kitchen, where he is scrubbing away at the dishes in the sink. he's sporting your pink and floral gloves with a wicked grin. you scowl at him through the doorway as evan's barking laughter echos through the now emptying house.

suddenly, a loud crackling noise explodes from the living room. barty cranes his head around the kitchen pillar and shouts to you that your "noble steeds are here."

you stand up from your spot and brush your hands against your jeans as you walk out to the living area. you hadn't expected to be so nervous—not with them! you'd gone to school with all three of them for six years, and you'd grown up with one of them all your life!

come on, it's sirius "don't tell your mum or i'll throw your dolly out the window," "actually i won't throw dolly out the window because she's too pretty...can we make a dress for her out of my old socks," black you're talking about! the others, you weren't so sure about. james potter had been your direct enemy in quidditch for quite some time. you were both chasers on your respective teams. and remus lupin...all you knew about him was what severus snape had tried to spread about him to the entire school.

you hope he knows you didn't listen.

"hi, fawley!" sirius chirps as he steps through the barren living room. "fancy seeing you here, roomie!"

he brings you in for a friendly hug, and you laugh at him. "you're in my house, sirius!"

"not your house for long," the older boy chimes back. his hair has been cut since you last saw him at reggie's graduation party—his black curls were still has curly as ever, and his gray eyes (the very same as reggie's) pierced through yours. "soon enough you'll be in the marauder's cottage by the sea! it's like something from a movie, really."

james potter steps forward with a bright smile and a big hand outstretched. "i-i'm james! you probably don't remember me much, but—"

"no, i remember you, potter," you squint as you place your hand in his and shake firmly. "you knocked me off my broom third year with a bludger."

"that was you?!?" james and remus lupin exclaim at the same time. poor james, his eyes looked ready to pop right out of his pretty head.

"yes it was me!" you laugh brightly. "and you weren't even a bloody beater!"

the bespectacled boy in front of you sputtered, his eyes growing wider. "it bounced right off my head, i swear! i wasn't aiming for you!"

the poor thing doesn't even know you were teasing!

remus chuckles under his breath as james continues to panic.

"Sshe's winding you up, mate," he says, shifting the weight of a heavy-looking box from one hand to the other. his voice is calm, low, but not unfriendly. "if she were mad about it, she'd have hexed your eyebrows off already."

"don't tempt me," you shoot back, amused.

"and she really will do it!" barty shouts from his spot in the kitchen."

"8 like her," remus says casually, and sirius nods like he's just been proven right about something important.

"you hear that? we're off to a great start already!" sirius beams, clearly delighted that remus is warming up to the idea. he snatches a box of books from evan's hands before the other boy can protest. "alright, gentlemen, let's help the lady move. chop, chop!"

"you're ridiculous," you mutter, but there's a smile on your face as you glance around your almost-empty house. it's weird, seeing it this bare. you'd lived here for nearly two years — first with regulus, then... sort of alone once he started staying over at evan's more than he stayed home.

"you alright?" remus' voice is soft, near your shoulder now. you hadn't noticed he'd moved beside you.

you nod, brushing a hand over your jeans again. "yeah. jus' feels weird. big change and all that."

he gives a half-smile. "we're not so bad, i promise."

you tilt your head, pretending to consider. "i suppose i'll find out soon enough."

later that evening, back at the cottage, the chaos is truly palpable.

there are boxes everywhere down your hallway, the kettle is whistling angrily on the stove (sirius forgot about it), and someone—probably james—has left a trail of muddy footprints across the entry rug because of course it started raining the moment you apparated in.

"i swear to merlin, prongs, do your shoes live on your feet?" sirius shouts from the kitchen as the kettle screeches in protest.

"where do you want this?" Remus asks, holding up a box labeled SHOES – HANDLE WITH CARE OR I'LL CRY in evan's handwriting.

that git!

"erm—my room, i guess?" you laugh. "just down the right, yeah?"

remus nods and disappears down the hallway, just as james appears behind you holding a coat rack.

"'m not sure where to put this," he says, looking absurdly confused for a man holding what is clearly a coat rack.

you blink. "that... goes near the door?"

"ohhh. right. that makes sense."

you snort. "what are you, the brains of this operation?"

"no," sirius calls from the kitchen. "that's moony. potter's the looks."

james puffs up proudly at that. "damn right."

"and what are you, then?" you call toward sirius, who reappears with four mismatched mugs balanced precariously in his hands.

"morale," he answers, and not a single one of you questions it.

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