#Past Severus/Lily | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

marauroon · 1 month ago

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𝟏 𝐭𝐨 𝟏𝟎𝟎 — 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑. (𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐞)

James suddenly discovers that girls exist. And then seems to realise that you are one.

eventual james x fem!reader | 6.0k | series masterlist.

main masterlist.

CW | marauders are cocky little shits ofc, james is an obnoxious flirt, the marauders humiliate severus (and unintentionally lily and reader) in public

The September sun was weak and golden, casting a lazy glow over the Hogwarts grounds as students spilled out of carriages and onto the familiar stone steps of the castle.

The air was thick with the chatter of summer stories—trips abroad, new broomsticks, and fleeting first kisses on starlit beaches. The scent of warm earth clung to the castle walls, a final breath of summer before the Scottish chill crept in.

You stood with Lily and Severus near the edge of the crowd, half-listening as Lily recounted the letters she’d exchanged with Dorcas over the break.

The two had written back and forth nearly every week, mostly sharing trivial gossip about mutual friends and the latest Which Broomstick articles. But despite Lily’s cheerful recounting, you were more focused on Severus, whose face was carefully blank.

You recognised the expression by now—it was the mask he wore when he didn’t want you or Lily to see how much something bothered him. His eyes kept flickering over toward the clumps of Gryffindor boys, his lips pressed into a hard, flat line. You didn’t need to ask who he was looking at.

You spotted them easily enough—James and Sirius in the center of it all, their laughter carrying over the hum of the crowd. Peter shuffled after them, nearly tripping over his own feet in his effort to keep up, and Remus walked slightly behind, hands in his pockets, eyes darting around as though half-hoping to be ignored.

And they were different. Taller. Broader. Their voices richer with the remnants of a summer spent outside, and something about the way they carried themselves had shifted, as if they suddenly knew their presence mattered.

James, in particular, was different. The boy who had spent the past three years as an insufferable menace—the one who had hexed your bag to spew out a swarm of singing paper cranes in the middle of Potions—now strolled through the crowd with a maddening sort of confidence.

His hair was still a mess, but now it looked intentional, as though he’d spent time ruffling it into disarray. His tie hung slightly loose around his neck, giving him a roguish look, and he slung his broomstick over his shoulder with all the casual grace of a boy who knew everyone was watching.

And everyone was watching.

A few fifth-year girls by the doors were giggling into their hands, stealing glances in his direction. Even Marlene, who had always been sharp-tongued and disinterested in school gossip, tilted her head slightly as the boys passed, her eyes briefly lingering on them before she smirked and nudged Dorcas with her elbow. The two exchanged a glance that made your stomach turn sour.

“Since when did they become the heartthrobs of the castle?” you muttered under your breath, half to Lily, half to yourself.

Lily’s green eyes narrowed slightly. “Since they realised girls exist, apparently.” Her tone was dry, but you could tell she was just as irritated as you were.

James caught your eye as he passed. His grin widened. With an exaggerated flick of his wrist, he tossed his broomstick from one hand to the other, showing off his reflexes. It was a ridiculous, peacocking display, but he looked irritatingly pleased with himself as he strolled by.

“Looking forward to the first Quidditch match, then?” he called out, though he was clearly speaking to you. His voice carried easily over the crowd. “Better get a good seat, might see me break a record or two,”

You glared at him. “I’ll be sure to bring my sick bucket, just in case the show makes me ill,”

Sirius barked a laugh. “Oh, she’s missed you, James. I can tell,”

James didn’t respond right away. He just kept looking at you, his hazel eyes glittering with amusement, as though your snark was the highlight of his day.

You turned back toward Lily and Severus, deliberately ignoring him.

But the exchange seemed to satisfy him.

—

The Great Hall was louder than ever that evening. The enchanted ceiling mirrored the dusky lavender sky, dotted with early evening stars. You sat at the far end of the Gryffindor table with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene. Severus was over at the Slytherin table, his face half-hidden behind a curtain of black hair as he bent over his meal, avoiding any and all attention.

You could feel the heat of James’ gaze before you even glanced his way. He was two seats down with Sirius, laughing a little too loudly at a joke Remus had made, occasionally glancing sideways in your direction. When you finally shot him a flat, disinterested look, he didn’t even try to be subtle. He smirked and tilted his head slightly, as if challenging you to keep ignoring him.

It was maddening.

Lily noticed. “You know he’s only doing it because you react,” she muttered, poking at her mashed potatoes.

“I’m not reacting,” you snapped back in a low voice.

“Sure,” Dorcas drawled, not even looking up from her pumpkin juice. “That’s why you’re glaring at him like you want him to burst into flames,”

Marlene snorted. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did, though. He’s bloody annoying,”

You let out a frustrated sigh, shoving a bite of bread into your mouth just to keep yourself from saying something regrettable. The longer you sat there, the more it grated on you—James’ easy confidence, the way Sirius whispered something in his ear that made him glance over at you again, both of them grinning like idiots.

Your fingers tightened around your fork.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered.

The bread was dry in your mouth, sticking unpleasantly to the roof of your mouth. You forced it down with a gulp of pumpkin juice. You were halfway through formulating a perfectly scathing glare when James’ voice rang out across the table.

“Oi, McKinnon!” he called out suddenly. “You coming to the pitch tomorrow? Early practice. Gotta keep the team sharp if we’re going to destroy Slytherin,”

Marlene raised a brow but nodded, clearly amused. “Bright and early, Potter,”

James grinned. His eyes flicked back toward you. “You should come too,” he said, voice light and teasing. “You could watch me practice. Might even dedicate a goal to you,”

It was such a pompous, ridiculous thing to say, you actually let out a laugh—but it was cold, sharp, and entirely without humour.

“Right,” you drawled, your voice dripping with disdain. “Because that would be such an honour,”

Dorcas snickered into her goblet, but James seemed unfazed. In fact, his grin widened, as though he was utterly delighted by your scorn.

You scowled and turned back toward your plate.

“That boy,” you muttered, stabbing your carrots with more force than necessary, “is going to drive me mad.”

Lily cast you a sideways glance, the corner of her mouth twitching faintly. “You do know you’re giving him exactly what he wants, right?”

You scowled. “What he wants is a concussion,”

Marlene let out a low chuckle, but from the corner of your eye, you caught James still watching you—head propped in his hand, wearing a lopsided smirk that made your stomach twist with irritation.

And yet, you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Stupid traitorous blood vessels.

—

The next few weeks at Hogwarts passed in a blur of early autumn mornings and late-night study sessions, but James made it his personal mission to remain a consistent, inescapable thorn in your side.

No matter where you went—whether it was rushing to Transfiguration, trying to concentrate in the library, or simply walking to the Great Hall—he was always there, hovering on the edge of your awareness.

And always, always, with that insufferable smirk.

At first, you chalked it up to him being bored.

That was the only logical explanation.

James and his friends had been tormenting you, Lily, and Severus for the past three years—hexing Severus’ cauldron to bubble over, charming your quills to squawk like chickens mid-essay, or charming your bag to fly around the classroom, spilling ink all over your notes. So, of course, this new fixation was just another game. Another way to irritate you.

But then he didn’t stop.

If anything, it escalated.

You were coming out of Charms one afternoon when you heard his voice—loud and overly casual—float down the corridor.

“Hey, did you see that Wronski Feint during practice?” he announced to no one in particular, but you immediately knew the performance was for your benefit. You stiffened as you walked by, but James’ voice carried on, deliberately and obnoxiously. “No? You should really pay more attention. Could’ve sworn you were watching me,”

You didn’t slow your stride or glance in his direction. You simply kept walking, grinding your teeth.

The next day, you spotted him leaning against the doorframe outside the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. His tie was loose around his neck, and he was running his fingers through his hair in that deliberately careless way you were starting to recognize as his signature move. It was so predictable now that you could practically count down in your head before he did it.

Three… two… one—

“Oh, this?” he said loudly when you walked by, tugging at a lock of his untamed hair. “Yeah, just got off my broom. Early morning practice. You know how it is—gotta be the best on the field, after all,”

You turned your head sharply, fixing him with a withering glare. “Is that what you tell yourself to make up for the fact that you’re insufferable off the field?”

For a brief moment, you saw James’ eyes flash with surprise, as though he hadn’t expected you to bite back so quickly. But then the corners of his mouth quirked upward, clearly thrilled.

You stalked off before he could fire back with some infuriatingly cocky retort, but you could practically feel his grin at your back.

—

It wasn’t just the hallways. You were convinced he was orchestrating it now—finding ways to place himself in your line of sight or to make sure his voice reached your ears.

In Potions, he made a show of stretching as he walked past your table, rolling his shoulders like he was nursing a Quidditch injury, despite the fact that you were fairly certain Gryffindor hadn’t had practice in two days.

“Ugh, strained my shoulder last match,” he announced to no one in particular, though his eyes flickered in your direction. “Happens when you carry the whole team, you know?”

Dorcas, who was hunched over her cauldron beside you, snorted so quietly you nearly missed it. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, the ghost of a smirk tugging at her lips.

You gripped your stirring rod a little too tightly, turning the ingredients with more force than necessary.

“Do you think if we hexed his lips shut he’d still find a way to talk?” you muttered under your breath.

Dorcas’ eyes glimmered with mischief. “Oh, definitely. He’d probably find a way to mime his Quidditch stats,”

You let out a sharp, unrestrained laugh, drawing the attention of the students around you. When you glanced up, you found James watching you. His hazel eyes had a glimmer of something warm in them—something that caught you off guard, if only for a moment.

But then he winked.

Your face immediately hardened. You turned back to your cauldron with a scowl, ignoring the strange, uncomfortable heat building in your chest.

—

It didn’t stop.

By the time the third week rolled around, James’ antics had grown so frequent and shameless that Lily had taken to audibly groaning whenever he opened his mouth in your vicinity.

“Honestly, does he think it’s subtle?” she muttered to you one evening as the two of you made your way to the library. “It’s embarrassing,”

You didn’t even have the energy to argue. You were too busy fuming about the incident from earlier that day when James had dramatically “dedicated” his goal during a Quidditch scrimmage to you in front of half the school.

Now, as you and Lily made your way toward the library, you could still hear his voice in your head, all dripping arrogance and showmanship.

You were mid-rant when Lily suddenly came to a stop, glancing over your shoulder with a grimace. You followed her gaze—and there he was again.

James was sauntering down the corridor toward you with Sirius at his side. His hands were tucked casually into his pockets, and he was saying something that made Sirius snicker under his breath. The two of them were a walking embodiment of cocky, lazy confidence, and it made your blood boil.

James caught sight of you and, predictably, his entire face lit up. He slowed his stride, falling slightly behind Sirius so he could meet your eyes as he passed.

“Hey,” he drawled, casual as ever, with that infuriating half-grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Just heading back from the pitch. Did you catch the scrimmage? Thought of you, y’know. Every goal,”

You leveled him with a look of pure disdain.

“Funny,” you said, voice laced with false sweetness. “Every time I see you, I think about throwing myself into the Black Lake. But you don’t see me announcing it, do you?”

For the first time in weeks, James actually seemed momentarily stunned into silence. His eyes widened slightly before his lips parted in surprise, and for the briefest of moments, you saw something flash behind his eyes—something oddly genuine, like he was genuinely caught off guard by how cutting you could be.

Then, to your utter disbelief, he laughed. A low, warm sound that made your stomach clench with irritation.

“I like you,” he said, far too sincerely for your liking. “You’ve got fire,”

And then he was walking away, still grinning to himself, while you stood there, fists clenched at your sides, your heart hammering far too quickly for someone who was supposed to be unimpressed.

Lily arched a brow. “You sure you’re not reacting?”

You glared at her.

“Shut up.”

—

It happened right before Christmas.

You remembered that because it was the first properly cold morning of the term—the kind that bit at your skin and left the stone corridors of the castle slick with condensation. You had been walking with Lily and Severus down the main courtyard steps, talking idly about your latest Charms assignment. The courtyard was crowded, full of students making their way toward the greenhouses or heading down to the lake before the weather grew too bitter.

You had been halfway through complaining about Flitwick’s unreasonable essay length when it happened.

It began with a flash of light—brief, sharp, and disorienting. For a second, you thought someone had simply cast a Lumos a little too enthusiastically. But then you heard the noise.

A loud, high-pitched squealing filled the air. It was shrill and almost cartoonish, like the sound of a pig being chased around a farmyard. You froze, confused, your eyes darting around for the source of the noise. And then you saw him.

Severus.

Your stomach plummeted.

He was standing several feet away from you, trembling slightly. His wand had been knocked from his hand and lay several feet behind him in the damp grass. His face—no, his entire head—was unrecognisable.

In place of his hooked nose and sharp cheekbones, his features had morphed grotesquely. His skin was mottled and sagging, and his eyes were comically large and bulging, like a frog’s. His mouth stretched into a wide, drooping line, slurred and drooling at the edges. But worst of all was the sound—every time he opened his mouth, no words came out. Just that hideous, animalistic squealing.

For a moment, you didn’t understand.

Then you saw them.

James and Sirius were several paces away, wands still drawn. Sirius was bent double with laughter, clutching his stomach, while James stood upright, grinning broadly, his eyes alight with the kind of reckless, boyish amusement you had once found so infuriatingly charming.

Your stomach turned.

Severus took a step back, wild-eyed and humiliated, his mutated face flushed with raw, boiling shame. You were already moving toward him, reaching for your wand, your chest tight with anger, when you felt it.

A sudden, powerful whoosh of magic slammed into you.

You heard Lily cry out beside you as the spell hit you both—an obvious bit of collateral damage, careless and incidental. You staggered backward from the force of it, blinking as your vision blurred.

When you wiped at your face with your sleeve, you realised your skin was sticky with a thin, viscous film of potion. It clung to your cheeks and hair, leaving a bitter, chemical taste in your mouth.

You stared down at your hands in shock. The tips of your fingers had turned an unnatural shade of green, the skin puckering slightly as though you’d been submerged in a swamp for hours. You felt your cheeks swell—puffy and numb—and when you glanced at Lily, you saw her frantically scrubbing at her own arms, where iridescent scales were spreading in a glittering patchwork over her skin.

The crowd around you had gone deathly silent. Students were no longer passing by on their way to class. They had stopped. They were watching.

Someone laughed.

It was Sirius.

“Merlin’s balls, Snivelly,” he cackled, doubling over with glee. “I was going for ugly, but you’ve outdone yourself. You look bloody spectacular,”

James snorted beside him, a crooked grin tugging at his lips. “Tough luck, Sev,” he drawled, wand still loosely in his hand.

You felt a sharp jolt in your chest.

It wasn’t just a prank. It wasn’t just childish rivalry. This was cruel. And what was worse—it was public.

Severus was still staggering slightly, blinking furiously, his enormous, frog-like eyes watery with equal parts rage and humiliation. His shoulders were rigid, his hands curled into trembling fists at his sides. You knew that if he could speak, he would be cursing them with every hex he could think of.

Instead, he just stood there. A grotesque, disfigured spectacle.

Your wand was in your hand before you even realised it.

“Finite!” you barked, voice shaking slightly. The spell lifted from your skin in a thin, shimmering mist. The potion residue vanished, but your cheeks were still slick with it, sticky and warm. You spun on your heel, grabbing Lily’s wrist, helping her clean the remaining scales from her arms. Your hands were trembling slightly, but you forced them steady.

When you turned to Severus, you hesitated. Your hands hovered over him uselessly, unsure how to help. You couldn’t reverse the effects with a simple counter-curse—whatever they’d hit him with was complex, possibly potion-based. You clenched your jaw.

Before you could even speak, you heard James’ voice again.

“Relax, he’ll be fine,” he said breezily, waving a hand as if he were dismissing a particularly dull lesson. His tone was light, almost bored, as though it were all just harmless fun. “We were just—”

“Just?”

Your voice rang out louder than you intended, raw and incredulous.

You rounded on him, wand still clenched in your hand, your chest tight with fury. You were dimly aware of Lily standing stiffly beside you, her fists trembling at her sides. Dorcas and Marlene had appeared somewhere in the crowd, their eyes wide, but you were too focused on James to notice.

“Just what, exactly?” you spat. “Just making him a laughingstock in front of the entire school? Just making sure everyone will talk about this for weeks? Just making sure he’ll remember this every time he walks into a room?”

James blinked, clearly startled by the venom in your voice. For a fleeting moment, you saw something flicker behind his eyes—guilt, maybe. Or maybe just surprise at the force of your anger.

But before he could speak, Sirius clapped him on the back and let out a sharp, barking laugh.

“Bit of fun, love,” Sirius grinned, eyes glinting. “No harm done,”

No harm done.

You turned sharply to Severus. His breathing was shallow and uneven. His wand was still lying several feet away in the grass, but he didn’t move toward it. He didn’t move at all. His hands were still curled into fists, shaking slightly at his sides, but his eyes—now back to normal, though still rimmed with faint red—were fixed on the ground. Refusing to look at anyone. Refusing to let them see.

You felt something cold and leaden settle in your chest.

You turned back to James and Sirius, trembling with rage, but they were already walking away, laughing to themselves. Laughing.

James’ hand was still casually ruffling his hair as they strolled toward the castle steps, as though nothing had happened. As though the entire incident was a meaningless bit of entertainment.

You felt something twist in your chest—sharp, ugly, and unforgiving.

For the first time, you didn’t just find James Potter irritating.

You hated him.

—

The Gryffindor common room was warm and buzzing with the low hum of evening chatter. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a dim, golden glow across the room. Groups of students were scattered in their usual spots—some lounging on the worn, oversized armchairs, others cross-legged on the rug, trading Chocolate Frog cards and talking over the sound of a battered wizarding wireless crackling faintly in the corner.

It was the usual cozy, carefree scene. One you might have found comforting, even, if you weren’t still seething.

You stood near the far wall with Lily, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, eyes sharp and unyielding. You hadn’t spoken since you’d entered the room. Neither had Lily. You hadn’t needed to. The quiet, crackling tension between you was louder than any conversation.

Across the room, James sat on the arm of a squashy red sofa, laughing idly at something Sirius had just said. He had shed his outer robes, lounging comfortably in his shirt and tie. His hair was its usual mess, sticking up wildly in every direction, and he ran his fingers through it as he grinned at whatever nonsense Sirius was spouting. His broomstick was propped lazily against the wall behind him, as though he’d just returned from practice and hadn’t even bothered to put it away.

He was relaxed, comfortable—unbothered.

And that made something in you snap.

You didn’t consciously decide to move. You just did. Your feet carried you across the room with swift, deliberate steps, each one driven by the raw, simmering anger that had been building in your chest since that afternoon. You vaguely heard Lily following behind you, but your eyes were locked on James.

The room was still filled with idle conversation, but it dimmed in your ears, muffled and distant, like everything else had blurred except for the space directly in front of you. You came to a sharp stop right in front of him.

James glanced up, momentarily surprised. His grin wavered slightly when he saw the look on your face—hard and cold, all sharp angles and barely restrained fury.

“Potter.”

The casual, easygoing lightness in his eyes flickered, confused by the way you spat his name. He straightened slightly, his fingers still loosely curled around the arm of the sofa, but his grin hadn’t entirely disappeared.

“Hey,” he greeted, still wearing that maddeningly lopsided smile. “What’s—”

“Don’t.” Your voice was low and firm. Sharp enough to cut.

James’ grin faltered. He blinked, slightly caught off guard. Around you, a few people were starting to glance over. Even Sirius’ voice had dimmed slightly, sensing the shift in your tone.

You stared at James, your chest tight, the words already rising in your throat, burning hot and unchecked.

“You think you’re funny?” you asked flatly, your voice low and cold. “You think you’re charming?” Your lips curled in disgust. “You’re an arrogant, cruel bastard who gets off on making everyone else feel smaller.”

The noise in the room dimmed further. Several Gryffindors nearby turned their heads, eyes flickering between you and James. Even Sirius, who had been halfway through a sentence, fell silent, his brow furrowing slightly.

James’ eyes widened faintly at your words. His mouth opened slightly, as though he was about to respond, but you didn’t give him the chance.

“You humiliated Severus today,” you continued, voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Publicly. Deliberately.” Your eyes narrowed, and you felt your throat tighten with the force of your own anger. “You hexed me and Lily, and you didn’t even notice.” You let out a sharp, humorless breath. “Because we were nothing more than collateral damage to you. Because that’s all anyone is to you—pawns in your pathetic little game.”

James’ lips parted slightly. The easy smirk was gone now. His hazel eyes were wide, blinking slightly, caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

But you weren’t done.

“You’re not clever,” you hissed. “You’re not funny. You’re not some tragic, misunderstood hero. You’re just a coward with a wand and too much free time.”

For the first time since you’d known him, James Potter didn’t have a comeback.

He was still staring at you, his face oddly still, but his eyes were tight around the edges, his throat bobbing slightly. He opened his mouth once, then closed it again.

“We’re not your entertainment.” Lily stepped forward, her voice steady but cold. Her green eyes were like shards of glass as she looked at James, and when she spoke, there was no warmth left in her voice.

“Not me,” she said slowly, her tone hard and deliberate. “Not her.” She glanced at you briefly, then turned her gaze back to James. “And certainly not Severus.” She took another step closer, her voice barely above a whisper but thick with restrained fury. “Grow the hell up. You’re not a child anymore.”

You saw James’ throat tighten, saw the flicker of something unfamiliar in his eyes. His hands had slipped from the arm of the sofa, falling loosely into his lap, and he was staring at Lily as though she had physically struck him.

And for once, he didn’t say anything.

No glib remark. No boyish grin. No cocky retort.

Just silence.

Around you, the entire common room was still. All eyes were on the two of you. You could feel the weight of the stares—the sudden, suffocating attention pressing in from all sides. You could feel the tension settle heavily in the room, thick and suffocating, like the whole castle was holding its breath.

You stared at James for a moment longer, daring him to speak, daring him to try and laugh it off. But he didn’t. His eyes were on you, wide and unreadable, his lips pressed into a tight, thin line.

“I hope you have the Christmas you deserve.”

You turned sharply on your heel, the blood roaring in your ears, and without another word, you walked out of the common room. You didn’t glance back, but you heard Lily’s steps following closely behind you.

The heavy wooden door swung shut behind you with a dull, resounding thud.

Neither of you spoke as you walked through the dim, winding corridors. Your breath was still shallow with adrenaline, and your hands were trembling slightly, your fingers curled tightly into fists. You didn’t slow your stride, didn’t glance at Lily, didn’t say a word.

But you didn’t need to.

Because the image of James’ face—stunned and silent, stripped of its usual arrogance—was burned into your memory, a hollow ache had settling in your chest.

Not like it had a few weeks ago. No, this was raw unbridled loathing.

—

James Potter had been hexed more times than he could count. He’d had stinging jinxes blast him off his feet, been thrown into the air by poorly aimed levitation charms, and had more than one duel with Sirius that had left him sore and limping for days.

But none of it—not a single curse or hex—had ever landed with the same sharp, breathless impact as your words in the common room.

He sat there for a long time after you and Lily had left. Long after the crowd had dispersed, after the low hum of conversation returned and people pretended they hadn’t just watched Gryffindor’s most popular pranksters get publicly shredded.

James didn’t say a word.

He was still on the edge of the sofa, his elbows braced against his knees, fingers loosely clasped. His eyes were fixed on the carpet, unmoving.

Sirius, who had initially made a few half-hearted quips about your “overreaction,” gradually fell silent. Even he could sense that something was off. After a while, he clapped James once on the back, muttered something about heading up to the dorm, and left.

Remus, who had watched the entire thing with that unreadable, mildly disapproving expression he sometimes wore, simply gave James a brief look before heading upstairs himself.

Peter, sensing the shift, trailed after them.

And then James was alone.

He wasn’t entirely sure how long he sat there, staring at the fire as it crackled low in the grate. His jaw was tight, his hands stiff, but he couldn’t move. The words kept circling in his head, sharp and unyielding.

You’re an arrogant, cruel bastard who gets off on making everyone else feel smaller.

His throat tightened.

He didn’t know why it was bothering him so much. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t used to people being angry with him. Merlin knew plenty of professors were. McGonagall practically had a permanent glare reserved just for him. Even some of the older students rolled their eyes when they saw him and Sirius sauntering down the corridor, up to no good.

But you—you weren’t supposed to be like that.

James had spent years goading you, teasing you, pulling you into his line of fire because he liked watching you fight back. He liked the way your eyes flashed, the sharpness of your wit, the defiance in your voice. You were clever, quick, and infuriating in all the best ways.

He’d always thought you were fun. Even when you scowled and hexed him, even when you spat insults at him, there had always been a part of him that assumed you were playing along.

Because he had been.

But now, sitting alone in the dying firelight, he realised he’d been wrong.

You weren’t playing. You weren’t rolling your eyes with secret amusement or secretly enjoying the banter. You genuinely, sincerely disliked him. Loathed him, even.

And what was worse—he wasn’t entirely sure he could blame you.

—

After the Christmas holidays, James tried to shake it off. He returned to Quidditch practice, flew longer and harder than usual, pushed himself until his muscles burned.

He let Sirius convince him to pull a few small pranks—nothing serious, just minor jinxes that left a few Slytherins stomping down the hallways in a rage—but none of it worked. None of it pulled his mind from the image of you, glaring at him with cold, unrestrained contempt, your voice shaking with fury.

You were avoiding him.

And it was driving him mad.

It wasn’t as though you had ever sought him out before, but he had gotten used to your presence—used to you rolling your eyes whenever he strolled into the common room, used to the exasperated glances you shot him when he launched into some self-congratulatory Quidditch monologue.

But now, you didn’t even look at him.

You walked past him in the corridor without sparing him a glance. You sat at the opposite end of the common room with Lily, Dorcas, and Marlene, your back turned sharply whenever he walked by. When you passed by him on your way to class, you barely acknowledged him, your face hard and impassive.

It was worse than if you had hexed him. Worse than if you had screamed at him.

Because it was deliberate.

He started pulling back without even realising it. His usual attempts to show off—the casually loud mentions of Quidditch practice, the not-so-subtle hair ruffling, the needlessly flashy spellwork—gradually fell away. He stopped making excuses to linger near you, stopped trying to catch your attention with deliberately obnoxious comments.

Instead, he found himself watching you from a distance.

He would glance across the common room at you, quietly studying the way you leaned forward when you were deep in conversation, your brow slightly furrowed in concentration. Or he would spot you walking ahead of him in the corridor and, for some reason, he would slow his pace slightly, watching the way you tucked your hair behind your ear or bit your lip when you were lost in thought.

He didn’t know what he was looking for. Some sign that you weren’t still furious with him, maybe. Some proof that you didn’t completely hate him.

But he never found it.

—

Meanwhile, things with Severus shifted.

You didn’t notice it at first. It was subtle—the way he started keeping his voice lower in the corridors, the way his eyes flickered warily toward passing Gryffindors when the two of you walked together.

But then he started making excuses.

He began skipping your usual study sessions in the library, claiming he had extra Potions work. You caught him slipping away early from the Great Hall during dinner, retreating to the dungeons alone. You asked him twice to meet you by the lake on Saturday, but he mumbled something about needing to help Slughorn with an experiment and left before you could ask again.

And then one day, you saw him walking across the courtyard. Alone.

You were on your way to class with Lily when you spotted him heading toward the castle. He had his bag slung over his shoulder, his hair falling in front of his face, obscuring the sharp lines of his profile. His shoulders were hunched slightly, and he was walking quickly, his eyes fixed on the ground.

Your first thought was that he must have been hexed again, but then you saw the Marauders loitering by the courtyard steps. James, Sirius, and Peter were laughing about something, but they didn’t even glance in Severus’ direction.

Because they didn’t need to.

Severus was already slipping away on his own. Already making himself small.

Already retreating.

You felt something twist in your chest.

“Hey!” you called out sharply, your voice carrying across the stone courtyard.

Severus slowed slightly, glancing over his shoulder. His expression was wary, his eyes flickering toward the Gryffindor group before settling on you.

“Wait up,” you said, hurrying toward him.

But instead of waiting, he shook his head slightly and quickened his pace.

“Sev—”

“Just—go with Lily,” he muttered under his breath, not slowing. “I’ll see you later.”

And then he was gone, slipping through the castle doors without looking back.

You stared after him, blinking, your chest tightening with a slow, familiar ache.

Lily placed a hand gently on your arm, her voice quiet. “He’s trying to protect himself,” she said softly. “You know that, right?”

You swallowed hard, but didn’t respond.

You just stared at the castle doors, feeling something cold and bitter settle deep in your chest. Because you did know.

But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

#marauders #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter angst

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aithusarosekiller · 10 months ago

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Starchaser where James is the snobby popular guy who could date anyone he wanted bc everyone trails after him all the time

People are expecting him to go for someone like Emmeline (most popular girl in the school) or Lily (an actual genius obviously) or maybe just mess around with as many people as possible just because he can and there would be nearly no repercussions

So when Sirius finds out that he is dating Regulus- who'd always had trouble with social cues, especially when so many people expected him to be a perfect pureblodo son, and was always a bit mean and proud when he was talking to people because he was never taught otherwise, and didn't really stick out at school because he was a bit more of a recluse than many other Slytherin purebloods and was 'very good' at school but not a Barty, Severus, or Lily level genius- he can't help but be so happy

Because despite James having so many people he could date, he fell for the one person everybody else would be disappointed about when they heard. And Sirius KNOWS it was NEVER a matter of James pulling out the name of an adoring fan from a hat. He knew he'd have had to connect to Regulus, see past the bitter cruelty of his mask, break down his walls, and earn his trust unwaveringly before he was able to ask him out

He knew that his best friend had settled for who he wanted instead of who everybody else wanted him to want, and he knew that his brother got to know what true care and understanding felt like from somebody who had so much to give

#spreading the reclusive autistic regulus agenda #obviously he's still smart but imagine him just being *there*#and James looks over the crowd of adoring fans and goes 'I want that one'#to the bitch little fucker in the back who isn't even looking at him #jegulus #starchaser #sunseeker #black brothers #the black brothers #sirius black #regulus black #james potter #marauders era #mwpp era #dead gay wizards

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starksweasley · 4 months ago

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Chase // Poly!Marauders

Summary: You steal something that belongs to your boyfriends and they chase you all around the castle

Word Count: 1575

It starts with a brilliant, impulsive mistake. You don’t even know why you did it—what possible logic possessed you to snatch the newly minted Marauder’s Map from James Potter’s nightstand and bolt. Perhaps it was Sirius egging you on with that mischievous smirk or the challenge written all over James’s face.

And now here you are, weaving through the crowded halls of Hogwarts, the stolen map crumpled and warm in your palm. Behind you, James’s shout echoes like thunder. “Come back here, you little thief! That’s my map!”

“You’re dead when I catch you!” Sirius’s bark of laughter follows close behind, and you can almost feel his fingers reaching for the back of your robes.

You’re laughing too, exhilaration buzzing through your veins. Students leap out of your way as you dash past, skirts and robes flying. You narrowly avoid colliding with a startled Lily Evans, who’s juggling a pile of what seem like abhorrently long essays.

“What are you doing?” she demands, her green eyes wide.

“Improving my cardio,” you toss over your shoulder, breathless.

“You’re insufferable!” Lily shouts after you, but her voice is obviously tinged with a smile.

Further down the corridor, Severus Snape’s sneer materializes in your peripheral vision. He steps deliberately into your path, wand in hand. You manage to dodge his attempt to trip you with a well-placed foot, but not without a cheeky “Nice try, Snivellus!” over your shoulder. The indignation on his face is almost worth the trouble you’re in.

“Move, Snape! Don’t touch my girl,” James bellows, darting past the greasy-haired Slytherin without a second glance, his protective tone cutting through the corridor like a whip.

Turning a sharp corner, you spot your other boyfriend—Remus Lupin. He’s walking toward you, arms full of books, his expression placid as though he’s entirely detached from the chaos that is your life. Without thinking, you launch the stolen map toward him. It lands squarely on the stack of books in his arms.

“Hold this!” you yell before sprinting past.

“What—?” Remus blinks down at the unexpected burden. Then, James and Sirius leap around the corner, wild-eyed and determined.

“Moony, give it here!” James demands, his hand outstretched, eyes blazing.

“What is going on?” Remus manages to ask just before Sirius barrels into him with all the grace of a wrecking ball. They tumble to the ground in a heap, books scattering in every direction as Sirius sprawls over him with a groan.

“Merlin’s beard, Padfoot, what the hell?” Remus splutters, trying to shove Sirius off him.

“Sorry, Moony, emergency!” Sirius grins down at him, entirely unbothered by their undignified pile on the floor.

James skids to a halt beside them, pointing an accusatory finger. “She nicked the map before we finished it! And she’s getting away!”

Remus blinks, realization dawning. “That little minx." He shifts his gaze to the hallway where you disappeared, a glint in his eye. "She’s cleverer than the two of you combined."

"Rude!" Sirius retorts, brushing imaginary dust off his robes. "You’re supposed to be on our side, Moony. She’s making us look bad."

Remus snorts. "You don’t need her help for that, Padfoot."

“Exactly!” James exclaims, grabbing Sirius’s arm to haul him upright.

“Come on, Moony,” Sirius adds, offering Remus a hand. “We’re not letting her get away with this.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Remus accepts the help, dusting himself off. “I should have known better than to walk peacefully through the castle with you lot running around. Lead the way, gentlemen.”

And just like that, all three boys are after you like a stampede.

You zigzag through the castle, laughter spilling from your lips. It’s a ridiculous, joyous game of cat and mouse. James nearly grabs your arm in the Charms corridor but trips over a trick step. Sirius is close enough to tug at the hem of your robes in the Great Hall, but you wriggle away. Even Remus, calm and methodical, cannot quite match your adrenaline-fueled determination to evade capture.

As you race through the library, Madam Pince’s shriek of “No running in here!” echoes behind you. You throw an apologetic wave over your shoulder, narrowly avoiding a stack of books teetering precariously near the Restricted Section.

Finally, the chase spills out onto the sun-drenched lawn. You’re panting, the blood rushing through your head turning your cheeks a bright pink. But it’s three against one, and you’re cornered. Sirius blocks your escape to the left, James is on your right, and Remus stands solidly between you and the castle.

“You have to surrender now," James pants, a victorious grin spreading across his face. "Face it, love, you’re no match for us three."

"Three brains and still no chance," you fire back, panting as your grin dares them to close the gap. "That’s just embarrassing for you lot."

You're clutching at a stitch in your side when James lunges, catching you around the waist. You shriek and flail, laughter bubbling uncontrollably. Before you know it, he’s hoisted you into the air.

“You’re going for a swim,” he announces with mock solemnity.

“Don’t you dare, James Potter!” you cry, still laughing.

But he dares. Oh, he dares. With a triumphant yell, he swings you toward the lake and lets go. The cold water swallows you whole, and when you surface, sputtering and gasping, the boys are doubled over in laughter on the shore.

“You lot are the worst!” you declare, dragging yourself toward the bank. Sirius crouches and offers a hand, but his grin is wide and unapologetic.

“Truce?” he asks.

You’re not above a little revenge. Grabbing his hand, you yank with all your strength, sending him sprawling into the lake beside you. His outraged squawk is music to your ears.

“You’re absolutely insane,” Remus remarks from the shore, though his lips twitch with a suppressed smile. "But I suppose that’s why we keep you around."

James is clutching his sides, tears of laughter streaming down his cheeks. "Merlin, you’re a menace," he manages between gasps, pointing at you like it’s the funniest thing he’s seen all year. "And now Sirius smells like wet dog."

“Oi! Rude,” Sirius protests, slicking his wet hair back with both hands as he glares half-heartedly. "You’re next, Potter, so wipe that grin off your face."

“You wish," James retorts, stepping out of Sirius’s reach with exaggerated caution.

As Sirius resurfaces again, spluttering and cursing, you lean back in the water, wiping droplets from your eyes. "I’m the innocent victim here," you declare with mock indignation. "You three are clearly conspiring against me."

"Innocent, my foot," Remus says dryly, but there’s warmth in his voice as he kneels at the edge of the lake. "Come on, troublemaker. You’re going to catch a cold."

You eye his outstretched hand with suspicion. "Promise you won’t drop me back in?"

Remus chuckles. "Scout’s honor."

As you grab his hand and let him help you out, Sirius lunges forward with a wicked grin. "No one’s safe, Moony!"

And with that, he shoves you both back into the water, splashing James who's doubled over in fresh hysterics. Spluttering, you surface again, glaring daggers at Sirius. "You’re all really the worst!"

James, still laughing, finally steps into the lake with a theatrical groan. "Well, now I’m wet anyway. Might as well join in."

Before you can react, he’s diving in with a splash that soaks you further. The moment he surfaces, you pounce, clambering onto his shoulders with a triumphant giggle.

"That’s it! You’re doomed now, Prongs," you declare, wrapping your arms around his head in mock victory. He steadies himself under your weight, looking up slightly to glance up at you.

"Doomed, am I?" he chuckles. "Careful, Menace. You’re about one move away from being launched again."

You lean down, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of his head, catching wet strands of his hair against your lips. "This is for being the sweetest idiot I’ve ever met," you tease, ruffling his already messy hair.

James flushes, but his grin remains intact. "Sweetest idiot? That’s almost a compliment, love."

"Don’t let it go to your head," you reply, laughing as he spins around, causing water to spray everywhere.

From the shore, Remus shakes his head, calling out, "If you two keep this up, we’ll need to fish you out by sunset."

Sirius smirks, now lounging lazily at the water’s edge. "I’ll fetch the fishing pole, Moony. Let’s reel in our Menace and her besotted knight."

James rolls his eyes dramatically, hoisting you higher on his shoulders. "Don’t listen to them. They’re just jealous they’re not as fun as us."

"You’re delusional, Prongs. They’re plotting your downfall right now."

Remus crosses his arms, his lips twitching with amusement. "Oh, she’s not wrong. If Sirius keeps scheming, you’re going to end up face-first in the lake tomorrow too."

"Don’t tempt me!" Sirius shouts, already pushing himself to his feet. "You know I can’t resist."

As he slowly steps into the water, James lets out a dramatic sigh. "Padfoot, I’m warning you. One wrong move, and you’ll regret it."

"Promises, promises," Sirius quips, wading closer. His grin widens, but before he can act, you splash him directly in the face, sending him stumbling back.

Laughter erupts from everyone, the sound carrying across the lake. You tilt your head back, smiling as James’s warm laugh rumbles beneath you. Moments like these, with your chaotic, wonderful boyfriends, make every stolen map and wild chase worth it.

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persephone-writes · 5 months ago

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A Diviner's Guide to James Potter: Series Masterlist

(ongoing) - read on ao3

Description: Being friends with Lily Evans was difficult when you were head over heels for her ex-boyfriend, James. Your problems are only made worse when you begin receiving strange omens that point to a less than desirable future.

Genre: Friends to lovers, slow burn (I mean it!), fluff & angst.

Rating: Teen (swearing, alcohol/weed/cigarettes, no smut). More detailed warnings for the whole fic can be found on Chapter One.

Series Word Count (so far): 178.2k

+:｡.｡.｡:+*+:｡.｡.｡:+*+:｡.♡.｡:+*+:｡.｡.｡:+*+:｡.｡.｡+

Chapter One: The Omen

You tell your friends about your odd findings while working on your most recent Divination assignment, all while trying to push away your growing feelings for James

Chapter Two: The Heart Wants What it Wants

Answers to your predicament are few and far between when Sirius gets a letter from his parents and the Gryffindor quidditch team receives some excellent news.

Chapter Three: Wicked and Wayward

Gryffindor plays Hufflepuff in the fourth match of the season, complete with an eventful after party.

Chapter Four: Paranoid

Hogsmeade is fun, but not when Sirius dangles a dangerous secret right in front of your nose.

Chapter Five: The Blizzard

A late winter storm buries Hogwarts in piles of snow, causing James to grow increasingly restless. It also blows in a much needed answer.

Chapter Six: Portraits Talk

Sirius attempts to quell your anger, though the pressure of acting aloof threatens to topple you.

Chapter Seven: Communing with Nature

You receive another omen which points to nothing good, though James is always there to help ease your mind.

Chapter Eight: The Duel

Mulciber becomes a looming threat to you and your friends, only increasing your existing anxieties.

Chapter Nine: Red and Gold

Old insecurities are brought to the surface, but James attempts to reassure you with the promise of a fun weekend.

Chapter Ten: Scurrilous Scoundrel

A night of firewhiskey, dancing, and racing hearts is unfortunately cut short when you stumble across eerie meeting.

Chapter Eleven: The Hour Struck Nine

Tensions between you and James run high when you, Peter, and Marlene return to the RoR.

Chapter Twelve: Discontent

After nearly seven years, you finally make it into Dumbledore’s office, though this does little to ease your growing nerves, especially when it comes to James.

Chapter Thirteen: A Lovely Shade of Turquoise

James forces you to talk about what happened, opening up a can of worms you wish you could charm back in.

Chapter Fourteen: The Stars Can Speak

After your fight with James, you're left entirely unsure how to act. However, your friends, and the stars, have some (un)helpful suggestions.

Chapter Fifteen: Repairo

Two diverging paths are presented to you: avoidance or intuition. Which one will you choose?

Chapter Sixteen: The Chaste Moon

The full moon comes just before Easter, fostering a time of rebirth and renewal��among other things.

Chapter Seventeen: An Invitation

You and the others search for answers regarding the return of your nefarious classmates.

Chapter Eighteen: Innamorati

Presents, dueling practice, and parties, oh my!

Chapter Nineteen: Yours, James

You and James are forced to deal with the highly eventful nature of Saturday night.

Chapter Twenty: And Then There Was You

You learn more about James's former pining, realizing there is less to fear than you initially thought.

Chapter Twenty-One: Severus' Story

It seems as though the past always has a way of catching up with you (and everyone else around you), even if Quattlebaum has hopes for your future.

Chapter Twenty-Two: Tears

Still reeling with your discoveries, you're left to deal with the aftermath.

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Hourglass

You try your best to help Sirius with his brother, even if it means trusting your abilities in Divination more than ever before.

Chapter Twenty-Four: A Cliff Worth Plummeting

You have an interesting run-in with Peeves, forcing you to confront the inevitable.

Chapter Twenty-Five: I Know

You have a run in with an odious adversary, reminding you that your problems may not end at graduation.

Chapter Twenty-Six: The Black Lake

It seems as though months of secrets, omens, and animosity is coming to fruition, swirling in a storm above Hogwarts.

Chapter Twenty-Seven: A Wonderful Accident

A tough conversation awaits, as does some unexpected perks of winning a duel against a dastardly opponent.

Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Daily Prophet

You are going to have to start getting used to more attention, and fast.

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Dreams

The true meaning of your dreams are up for debate, putting your relationship with James, and your sanity, in peril.

Chapter Thirty: Coming Soon!!

•-—✼.o○☆———☆○o.✼.o○☆———☆○o.✼—-•

Antique book cover credits:

The Deer-Parks and Paddocks of England by Joseph Whitaker, Captain Courtesy by Edward Childs Carpenter & Goldfish Varieties and Tropical Aquarium Fishes; a Complete Guide to Aquaria and Related Subjects by William T. Innes

#figured I’d make a separate masterlist #Should have done this at the beginning but not making masterlists seems like a common theme with me #james potter x reader #james potter/reader #james potter x you #james potter x fem!reader #james potter #marauders era #james potter fanfiction #james potter fluff #james potter series #marauders fandom

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sunnami · 2 years ago

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you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate.

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months.

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room.

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them.

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them.

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.)

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees.

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends.

That was absurd.

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed.

Maybe you’d try Severus next.

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?”

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.”

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered.

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares.

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius.

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.”

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.”

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.”

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.”

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins.

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.)

Something stirred deep in your belly.

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.”

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head.

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.”

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart.

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily.

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat.

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.”

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words.

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder.

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.”

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression.

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization.

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends.

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship.

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself.

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace.

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise.

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it.

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs.

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests.

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.”

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.”

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.”

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.”

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed.

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses.

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?”

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.”

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat.

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.”

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.”

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone.

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too.

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own.

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook.

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!”

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.”

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.”

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.”

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them.

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder.

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender.

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?”

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?”

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.”

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob.

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much.

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.”

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready.

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes.

Did you have a place with them?

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.)

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you.

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you.

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month.

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist.

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain.

(You made him feel unafraid of the moon.)

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this.

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested.

“Because you don’t feel the same.”

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along.

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss.

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory.

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.”

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.”

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.”

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.”

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.”

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?”

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.”

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips.

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath.

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.”

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own.

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

#james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #lily evans x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #reader insert #marauders imagine #hp fluff #hp angst #marauders fluff #marauders angst

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