#Professor Kettleburn

[defoozor]

Can we talk about this

[nocontext-hphm]

[leenamorrigan]

People think Flitwick's smile to the player is creepy?

Yo have you seen professor Kettleburn?

He looks like he's about to wear your skin as a coat!

[linggluu]

I love this man

[fandomfrenzy97]

Another Hogwarts chapter is complete. Recently, Professor Kettleburn entrusted me and the rest of the Hippogriff Club to care for his baby Occamy, Squawk…unfortunately, she went missing and unintentionally caused a fair amount of damage, including tearing apart a book by one of the world’s most famous potioneers, which was actually a gift from the Hippogriff Club at Castelobruxo. Squawk was eventually found and the book was repaired. To celebrate the friendships formed within Hippogriff Club, Professor Snape (reluctantly) helped Penny and I with brewing a Laughing Potion for a party.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

“Sit down, Mister B— Sirius,” Professor McGonagall said, as she invited Sirius into her office, “and have a biscuit.”

Sirius slouched in the seat, then straightened his back and leaned forward, his legs parted, his arms resting on them.

“We are here for your career counselling regarding your upcoming OWL exams. Now, as I know very well you are aware, these exams will have an influence concerning your path in the field of work.” She straightened the papers on her desk, then picked one out of them. “Multiple teachers have decided to write to me in regard to your academic achievements. Professor Slughorn—”

“How many times did he mention my family?” He asked, leaning back against the headrest and propping his head up on his palm, his elbow resting on the armrest.

She let out a sigh. “He has mentioned it, yes. However, he also mentioned that you are highly skilled in his department and that you could most certainly do something regarding it. Professor Sprout, Professor Binns, even, too, consider the same thing, yet they all believe that you could engage more in their lessons.”

Sirius snorted as an answer.

“I would particularly like to talk about Mister Kettleburn and Professors Flitwick, Vector, Babbling, and I. All of us consider that you could find yourself an employment opportunity in our fields, Professor Babbling particularly, who told me she noticed some runes on your wand.”

“Protective magic,” Sirius answered, putting the wand on the desk. “They’re protective runes.”

“Do they serve a purpose?” She asked, curious about the implications that protective runes could have, although she was not an expert in the subject.

“I’m the only person who can use it.” Sirius shrugged. “Charmed it that way.”

She blinked. “That is very impressive, I may say. Have you told Professor Babbling that?”

“No. I told you because I suspect you’re going to fight in the war. Might be useful.” He leaned back into the chair, putting his right leg over his left.

She cleared her throat, trying to suppress her intrigue, and proceeded. “Have you thought about any field? Perhaps The Auror Department in the Ministry of Magic? Of course, that requires training, but you are ambitious when you put your mind to it, as proven by your previous demonstration, but I could refer you to—”

“I’m not gonna work in The Ministry.” Sirius cut her off, bluntly. “Not ever.”

“Very well, then, but what would you like?”

Mischief glinted in Sirius Black’s grey eyes. “I want to be a Curse-breaker,” He said, grinning.

[siriuslovebot]

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: more remus x mouse please!!! i adore them!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: mentions of insecurity, post full moon remus is a little snappy, the nickname 'mouse', insomnia, crying (this is all quite lighthearted i promise)

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: after remus snaps at the reader one day, some insecurities in their relationship come up.

𝑨/𝑵: hi loves! after the massive outpouring of love i had on mouse, i received this request and knew i absolutely had to write more of remus & mouse. this is written in the same universe, so to speak, but can be read as a standalone if you like. this one isn't nearly as long as the last, but it's just a little something that i wanted to write. if you'd like to see more of this pairing, just let me know and i would be happy to oblige!! as far as the warnings go, there's no real angst or anything just some insecurity on the reader's part. if that bothers you then please skip this one! as always, i hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 1.9k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

a slot of light slips through the curtains across the room, the faint moonlight shining directly over your eyes. a tiny huff leaves your lips as you flip the other way; sleep has escaped you for the past hour. you’d awoken, heart pounding, from a nightmare, and have been awake ever since. it’s a wonder you haven’t woken marlene or lily with your quiet grumbling and frustrated sighs. 

you curl into your bed, entangling your body in the duvet as you stare at the wall of your dorm. your eyes trace the cracks in the stone, the dim light illuminating their details just enough to distract you. you attempt to count them, hoping maybe it will help lull you to sleep. after what feels like hours, you give up. another annoyed grunt leaves your lips as you flop onto your back to stare at the canopy above your bed.

the problem is: you’ve been suffering from this insomnia for the past week now. ever since the last full moon, you’ve been worried sick. of course you’re used to dealing with remus’s touchy moods around the full moon; you’ve seen how short he can get with other people, how he becomes quieter and more reserved, how he sleeps more than usual. still, he’d never been that way with you, even when he was clearly at the end of his rope mentally and emotionally.

earlier in the week, you’d been excited to share the lesson he missed that morning in care of magical creatures. professor kettleburn covered mokes, displaying their remarkable ability to shrink themselves to near invisibility. it wasn’t unusual for remus to ask you what he missed in class– so you thought it’d be fine to volunteer the information. unfortunately, it seemed he was still on edge after his latest transformation.

you’d taken a seat on the end of his bed, placing a hand on his leg. you greeted him softly, knowing how exhausted he usually felt. he laid there, arm covering his eyes, and said nothing. you took this as an opportunity to begin speaking. there was no response from him for a moment, before he moved his arm, blinking his bleary eyes as he barely sat up.

a sickly-looking expression occupied his features. his sleeve rose a bit and you noticed another fresh wound.

“can you please just… leave me alone?” he said, voice cold, before collapsing back onto the bed. he shook your hand away from his leg and curled into himself.

“are you okay, rem?”

“go. away.” his words were punctuated sharply, turning almost venomous. you flinched, your entire morale crumbling to dust beneath the weight of his words. 

your stomach churned, and you cleared your throat. “o–okay,” you mumbled. you were out of his dorm in a flash, your feet carrying you as fast as possible downstairs.

“hey, y/n–” sirius tried to catch your sleeve, but you pushed past him, out of the portrait hole without a word. the tears were brimming already, your throat tightening as you made every effort to get as far away from everyone as possible. you hated how much it could upset you; remus was not mean, and you knew that. he would never hurt your feelings on purpose, and you knew better than to bother him when he wasn’t feeling well. still, it stung. 

even worse, you weren’t brave enough to bring it up when he finally returned to classes as normal. as he sat down beside you at breakfast, you wondered if he even remembered it at all. he greeted you amicably and bumped his knee against yours as he settled into his seat. but he didn’t wrap his hand around yours like normal. he wasn’t leaning in to whisper his witty remarks while the others were distracted. remus is not an obviously affectionate man in the first place, but you have grown used to him showing his fondness for you in quiet ways. brushing your hair behind your ear, carrying your books to class, holding doors open for you. 

now, moping in your bed, you feel even worse about everything. since that morning, you worried that you annoyed him to the point that he didn’t want you anymore. maybe he just preferred you as a friend. that idea hurt even more. blinking, you try to push the thought out of your head. alas, you are nothing if not an overthinker, and the pestering thought will not go away. your one remedy is exactly the person you don’t want to face. 

you realise you are in a predicament; being so obstinate, you don’t want to scurry off to remus’s dorm and pour your heart out after feeling so slighted. on the other hand, you’re afraid that your newfound relationship could fizzle out right beneath your nose. you’ve always heard that communication is key, but revealing your anxieties to remus feels too vulnerable. almost foolish. 

ultimately, you decide to choke down your pride. the floor is cold beneath your feet as you slip out of bed. you force your limbs to move across the room, tip-toeing to the door. you wince as a stirring noise comes from across the room, then the sound of marlene’s hoarse voice.

“y/n? y’okay?” her words are slurred with sleep, muffled by her pillow.

“fine, marls. go back to sleep.”

she does just that, her breathing falling back into its steady rhythm. you slip through the small gap in the door, padding downstairs as quietly as possible. 

by the time your feet hit the stairs up to the boys dormitories, you’re starting to question your decision. it’s stupid, you think. there’s no way remus would snub you on purpose; surely he would just up and say it if he was no longer interested… right? 

it takes every ounce of willpower in your body to force yourself up the stairs. you take them one at a time, breathing deeply to ease the growing anticipation. it’s a wonder no one can hear your pulse quickening, your shaky breaths. standing at the door, you stare at it for a second. you can turn around this second and pretend you were never there. but wouldn’t it only make things worse?

a second passes, and you raise your hand to knock. you stop yourself. it would be rude to knock at this hour; you’d wake all four of the boys slumbering peacefully inside. instead, you hope not to wake anyone as you gently push the door open, peering inside. four forms occupy their beds, their silhouettes rising and falling gently with each breath. the light from outside the window barely illuminates the room enough for you to creep around the mess on the floor. you grit your teeth as one of them mumbles in their sleep; your eyes find james’s form, rolling over lazily in bed. he’s still sleeping, thankfully.

you step over a pile of books on the way to remus’s bed, and try not to startle him. it seems you already have, as his sleepy voice comes muffled from his bed.

“y/n? is something wrong?” 

the sound of him calling you y/n sends a pang through you. as much as you complained about being called ‘mouse,’ it made you feel special whenever remus used your childish nickname. 

“can’t sleep,” you mumble stupidly, your knee bumping into the edge of his bed. “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“of course y’did,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “y’weren’t coming in here just to stare at me…” he turns over, his bleary eyes finding yours in the darkness. he lifts the duvet, scooting over to make a spot for you. you climb onto the bed, but hesitate before laying beside him.

“what’s wrong?” he reaches for you, long fingers wrapping around your wrist. his thumb traces the inside of your wrist, gentle against the skin. he doesn’t tug you down, which you would appreciate if it weren’t for the full view he was getting of your upset face. 

“are you mad at me?” this whisper is quieter than the last one, if possible. your eyes shine with tears, and remus’s face falls into a heavy frown. 

“what are you talking about, m’little mouse?” 

your heart seems as if it’s going to explode for a second; you force your gaze away from his face. you can’t stand to watch the way his brows pull together, the way his lips drag down into a frown, the concern softening his warm eyes. a lump the size of the castle has grown in your throat, and you want to hide your face more than anything. 

“i just–well, after the last full moon, it just… seemed like you didn’t want to see me anymore. i know it’s a lot to deal with, and i shouldn’t have bothered you–”

“hey,” remus cuts you off, his voice soft. little choking breaths and sobs are interrupting your words, and tears cloud your vision to the point that you can barely see him in the darkness. “you never bother me. c’mere…” he sits up, pulling you into his embrace. he’s warm, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of comfort. it’s astounding just how much he’s soothed you already, your crying quickly calming to dull hiccoughs. 

“so you’re not mad?” you breathe, your face tucked into his neck.

he laughs quietly. the sound is barely audible, but you feel the rumble of his chest. “no, mouse.” his lips press against your temple, and you melt into him. you close your eyes, feeling more restful than you have in days. “‘m sorry i was short with you.” he holds you close, cradling your head as you finish calming down.

“can i stay here with you?” you ask, after what feels like forever. you look up at him hopefully, face flushing at the adoring look in his eyes. 

“‘course y’can,” he says, moving over even though there’s plenty of room for you already. “poor mouse, you look exhausted.” he brushes your hair out of your face, and you nod weakly.

“i haven’t slept properly for days,” you mutter, tucking yourself into his side as you settle beneath the duvet. one of your hands slips under the hem of his shirt, his skin warm against yours. 

“i wish you would’ve said something sooner.”

“i know. i just–” you huff “--i was embarrassed. i didn’t want to scare you off.”

there’s his laugh again, sweet and sleepy. your stomach does a flip.

“oh, it’d be hard to scare me off after i saw you turn into a mouse–”

“rem!” you say, voice sharp despite the quiet. his stomach rumbles with light laughter, and you shake your head.

“okay, sorry,” he says, grinning. “let’s not wake the guys up. think sirius’ll have my head for disturbing his beauty sleep.”

you mumble your agreement, closing your eyes. it’s about time you got at least a few hours of good sleep. the room is quiet for a second, just slow breathing.

then, from james’s corner of the room: “what about my beauty sleep, moony?” 

there’s an eruption of giggles from your bed, and you bury your face into remus’s neck to stifle the sound. 

“sorry, prongs,” remus says, sheepish.

“yeah, yeah, you old sap. go to sleep, or i’m recounting this whole thing to sirius in the morning.”

“oh, please don’t,” you plead quietly.

there’s a grumble from across the room. then, “what are you gits up blabbering about?” it’s sirius, his voice gruff.

“nothing, pads,” says james. “going to sleep.”

you say nothing, cheeks burning as you settle down, curling against remus’s frame. sleep finally finds you, sweeping you off into a dreamless slumber.

[moutainrusing]

Professor McGonagall: Get into groups of three.

James, Remus and Sirius: Sorry, Pete…

Peter: Oh, that’s fine.

- - -

Professor Sprout: Get into groups of three.

James, Remus and Sirius: Sorry, Pete…

Peter: Still fine.

- - -

Professor Flitwick: Get into groups of three.

James, Remus and Sirius: Sorry, Pete…

Peter: Yeah, I get it.

- - -

Professor Kettleburn: Get into groups of three.

James, Remus and Sirius: Sorry, Pete…

Peter: Mhm.

- - -

Professor Slughorn: Get into groups of three.

James, Remus and Sirius: Sorry, Pete…

Peter: Yeah, bye.

- - -

Professor Sinistra: Get into groups of three.

James, Remus and Sirius: Sorry, Pete…

Peter: I SAID BYE.

- - -

Professor Vector: Get into groups of—

Peter: I’M IN A GROUP WITH VOLDEMORT AND SNAPE!!

Peter, Voldemort and Snape: SORRY, JAMES.

James: This doesn’t feel fine…

Remus and Sirius: We want apologies too, actually.

Professor Vector: Four…

[charlottes-diary-entries]

metamorphmagus!reader drabble <3

very, very long fluffy ass drabble approaching, just about 2k words. im actually deeply insanely obsessed with the concept of the metamorphmagus (my non-binary is showing, i know) and need more content of a metamorphmagus!reader + poly!marauders.

you officially meet the marauders during your later years at Hogwarts. they'd heard of you before, how could they not? beyond the small class sizes (which required you be aware of essentially everyone in your year, willingly or not), and the houses (which only further narrowed your chances of not knowing anyone), it was difficult for something as rare as a metamorphmagus to slip under anyone's noses.

james recalled seeing you at quidditch games, your hair vividly colored to match whichever team you were supporting. he was often proud to look through the crowd and find you sporting flaring red locks, cheering alongside his fellow gryffindors. he was proud, even if he knew you weren't there for him. very secretly, he often found himself wanting you to be there for him.

remus remembered the awkward instance of a professor dragging you to the front of the class and demanding you transform for him and your peers. it was a substitute for care of magical creatures, and he was determined to treat you like something to study. remus had cringed as you shifted, clearly uncomfortable and disjointed, before running off and skipping the rest of the day, upset. he wished he had gone to comfort you.

sirius often thought about when he spotted you shifting back to your true face while being dragged through the corridors by minnie. she was huffing and puffing about something you had done, some harmless prank scaring some first years with a strange face, but you only laughed. when he caught your eye, you winked, and he could feel his cheeks flush as he grinned. he'd suspected you'd be great fun for a while yet, but you were just beginning to prove yourself to him.

you had mostly slipped them all by up until their fifth year. by then, the boys had all been dating each other only for a short amount of time but it was becoming apparent to the rest of the school that the marauders were now strictly "look, but don't touch". they were really too fond of each other to consider anyone else now! (this was deeply upsetting information for the many young witches and wizards who had their hearts set upon a member of the famous group.)

however, as you had continued to find passion and joy in care of magical creatures despite your previous experience, you were studying to be a magizoologist. this meant, you were assisting kettleburn while james took the class. which of course meant, he finally had a clear opportunity to befriend you.

you and james caught on like wildfire, and it didn't take long for him to begin dragging the other marauders into your study sessions. hours would pass by, quiet jokes turning into loud laughter and getting shushed by the librarian. they found your ability endlessly fascinating and you were only too happy to oblige your new friends. (one time you transformed into sirius and the two of you acted out him falling in love with himself. the uproar it sent james and remus into actually got you kicked out of the library.)

it didn't take very long for you to become the newest unofficial member of the marauders. you were their beloved friend, and unfortunately in remus's eyes, all too smart. you had figured out his "furry little secret" just within the first month of knowing them all. the next month, they sat together in the hospital wing. sirius was holding remus's hand as james lay next to him on the bed, trying to bring him what comfort they had to offer when you stormed in. they were all aghast when you appeared in the hospital wing after the full moon with a full load of chocolate, several novels, and a promise that you'd do anything you could to help Remus through the lunar cycle. (remus thinks this very well may be when he fell in love with you. didn't help that you refused to leave his side for the rest of the day, reading to him and holding his hand in an entirely friendly way.)

you often joined them for the famous gryffindor parties, often getting sufficiently drunk and completely out of your mind. your appearance would shift constantly, struggling to find one stable face and body when your mind was so fuzzy. you would dance and laugh with them all, so when remus had squeezed sirius's hand and sent him to the corner you'd tucked away in, he knew something was wrong. you had been rather viciously rejected by a ravenclaw you liked, and now, very drunk, you were moaning to sirius about your appearance. could you have made your lips fuller? grown your hair? maybe cut your hair? what could have been different, more attractive, what could have made them like you? bigger eyes? sharper features? he had held your shifting face, helping you calm down and relax into your true complexion. (sirius had thought you looked completely gorgeous as yourself, because no matter how you looked, no matter what changed, he could always tell when you were comfortable in your own skin. he liked you best like that.)

and you always stood for what you believed in. once, james and remus had to not-so-gently drag you away from someone who had loudly claimed werewolves were "inhuman monsters". you continued to shout after them until you were dragged out of their sight, after which you gave remus possibly the longest hug he'd ever had. james gave him a soft kiss on the cheek after they sent you off to class, hoping you wouldn't attack any other students. unfortunately, later that same day, james caught you shouting at the very same student, defending a muggle-born slytherin. he didn't hear what they said, but something shifted in your eyes before you physically shifted, taking on a shit-ton of muscle and pouncing on them. he raced to pull you off as you bellowed at them, wordless and angry, before a professor raced over and helped him. you were dragged off to detention for a week and the slytherin dealt with a broken jaw and black eye as punishment for calling the student you had defended a mudblood. (james only felt immense appreciation for you afterwards. he'd never seen you spark like that before, and he'd never seen you look so undeniably hot.)

it was an incredibly comforting conversation between the three of them when sirius had audibly expressed just how attractive you were. james and remus were quick to agree, and it grew to them admitting to each other their collective feelings for you. but with it suddenly out in the open, none of them knew how to interact with you anymore. the previously friendly touches now felt charged, every glance your way was longing, and none of them knew how to manage it.

it didn't help that you seemed to be pulling away from them either, flushing and quickly making your way out of most of your conversations with them. they thought they were scaring you off. in reality, you were scaring yourself off.

you felt the exact same as them, but deeply feared ruining one of your few lasting friendships at the school. you began shifting into new faces, new bodies, ones they wouldn't recognize in order to avoid them in the halls. it stung to see them searching for you in class and around school, and it stung more when they gave up. maybe if you avoided them you'd begin to feel normal about them again. (you'd had enough weird for a life time, the few normal things you could have you desperately clung to.)

eventually, they caught onto you. again, there were only so many students at Hogwarts, so seeing a new one every other day during their classes with you? it was a painfully ineffective tactic.

remus caught you one day, lounging by the lake. well, sulking seemed a more accurate word, as you were incredibly glum, despite being relaxed enough to look like yourself. it felt like the first time he'd seen your actual face in years. he called out to you.

you jumped, and turned to run, but he cried out for you to stay. and well, you couldn't deny him. not when he sounded like that. not when he sounded so... abandoned. you cringed as you turned around and he rushed up, grabbing your face, turning you this way and that, filled with worry. he asked if you were okay, if you'd been hurt, if they'd hurt you somehow, and why in godric's name were you avoiding them so much-

and gently, you grabbed his wrists to still him, opening your mouth to... to what? comfort him? lie and say you were fine? no words escaped you as remus realized what he'd done and quickly pulled his touch away from you, a flush spreading across his cheeks. (he nearly didn't notice how you'd deflated as he stepped back.)

an awkward, pained grin crossed his face as he looked at you and whispered to you, "where'd you go? what happened to... to us?"

you very nearly broke down in tears right then and there, sucking in a sharp breath as you tried to prepare for losing them. that could be the only possible resolution to all this mess, and you'd be on your own. again. that was fine. you began to speak again, before a shout interrupted you.

james barreled past remus to give you a bear hug so forceful he actually tackled you to the ground. sirius was not far behind him, slipping a hand around remus's side and leaning into him, relaxed at finally seeing you.

a few tears slipped down your cheeks as you hugged james back, who only held you tighter, shouting that you could never leave them alone again. "we all love you too much to lose you ever again, so don't ever get lost, okay?"

you chuckled softly, more tears escaping as you buried your face into his neck. your laughter quickly boiled over into quiet sobs, shakily asking, "love, huh? that's- that's an awful big word, you- are you sure you love me?"

"love you? dove, we're plain obsessed with you-" james finally pulled back, shaking your shoulders then cupping your cheeks. "don't cry lovie, why are you crying?"

"because you don't- you don't love me the way i love you."

james tilted his head at you, deciphering your words, before your true meaning hit him like a truck. he grinned, whispering a quiet "fuck it" before shoving completely into your space and smashing his lips against yours. his glasses went crooked and you gasped into it, and there was some teeth clashing from how much james was smiling, but it was wonderful.

when he finally pulled back, panting and gleefully laughing, you could hear sirius's wolf-whistle and remus's shocked chuckles. you quickly looked between all of them, completely shocked before locking back onto james.

"you- you kissed me."

"sure did, dove."

"did," you glanced between all of them again, now keeping your eyes on sirius and remus as you leaned towards james and whispered, "do all of you want to do that?"

james somehow grinned even brighter. "sure do, dove."

"oh."

you felt your cheeks become ridiculously warm as sirius plopped beside you two, dragging remus down with him and smirking at you the entire time. you shyly smiled at him as he leaned over and smacked a kiss to your cheek.

"how- how long have you all been- how long have you felt this way?"

"long enough dove," remus said, leaning over and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead before smiling down at you.

"certainly long enough."

i'm begging someone to request more metamorphmagus!reader, especially gender queer or otherwise. (i'll probably still write it even if you don't though, lol) i will also be writing more magizoologist!reader! just smth about a reckless partner that the marauders just can't keep track of... <3

[petalsthefish]

“I need you to do me a favor.” Lily Evans never knew how quickly the sound of her voice made his heart race with anticipation.

James Potter glanced up from his homework, hastily scribbled during his break on a bench in the courtyard. The autumn leaves cascaded around, creating a picturesque scene behind his girlfriend, whose hair glistened like the fiery foliage in the sunlight. With a quick motion, James tucked his quill behind his ear, took her hand, and guided her to stand between his legs.

“Of course, what do you need?" He extended his hand to trace her freckles. She was so accustomed to his closeness that she didn't even flinch as his fingertips brushed against her face, rekindling a familiar fire in his belly.

She chewed on her bottom lip adorably, like she was contemplating something, before she stated firmly, “I need you to get detention.”

James raised a brow at her with disbelief and let out half a laugh. “Are you asking me to break the rules?”

A surge of excitement tingled through him. Lily usually upheld maturity and morals, often emphasizing the need for school leaders to maintain a higher standard of behavior. Sirius dubbed it a constant high horse, whereas Lily favored the term confident leadership. James leaned more into Sirius’ path, but he knew as head boy he really ought to not be a hypocrite.

Sometimes though, detention was inevitable.

Lily settled onto his right knee, her arm draping his shoulder casually as she implored, “I am begging you actually, because I heard Mulciber is the prefect covering detention and I don’t want to be stuck in a room for an hour with him…he creeps me out.”

“Why are you stuck with Mulciber?” James asked as his finger twirled a bit of her hair, “it’s Friday, you have off from head duties.”

Lily’s green eyes rolled back to emphasis her annoyance, “no, I don’t, I have detention.”

James nearly choked on his own spit from surprise, “wait, you have detention? How?”

“I told Professor Kettleburn to fuck off,” she said it so nonchalantly, he actually let out a little laugh as she continued, “I told him to fuck off because he was telling everyone werewolves are low life bums who deserve to rot in Azkaban.”

That struck a nerve. James knew why it had annoyed Lily too. Their best friend Remus was a werewolf. Kettleburn knew that too, all the teachers did. Only a few of the students were aware why Remus looked so sickly and stayed aloof unless he was with his friends. For Kettleburn to outright say those things in class knowing there was a werewolf at Hogwarts—James’ blood boiled at the thought of the sick intentions behind the lecture.

James gently pushed Lily off and stood up, “Well, I’ll be right back.”

Lily got a dejected look as she took his spot on the bench, “wait, where are you going?”

James pulled his sack up off the ground, stuffing his quill and notebook inside. “I’m going to put tiny dung bombs all over Professor Kettleburn’s office.”

Lily tilted her head, “but he’s probably in his office.”

“That’s the point.”

“He might murder you,” Lily said, “and I prefer my boyfriend alive, for snogging.”

He chuckled at her reasoning, cheeks warm as he thought of their last snog only that morning which had made them both miss potions. “I’m breaking a rule, like you asked me too do.”

“I mean Kettleburn would deserve it,” Lily murmured as she examined chipped paint on one of her fingernails, “he’s a miserable old ass.”

James leaned down to kiss her cheek swiftly as he heaved his bag onto his left shoulder, “I’m killing two birds with one stone love, see you at five for detention!”

He leaned back just in time to watch the diamonds in her green eyes light up. She ruffled his hair in an affectionate manner before he stood up straight.

“It’s a date,” she mused, “we can snog the whole time and piss Mulciber off.”

James cackled as he sauntered off, grateful he had three dung bombs left in his school bag’s back pocket from when he’d set some off in Ravenclaw’s locker room at quidditch. They would work nicely. Aware of the inquisitive eyes on him, he pulled one of the bombs out, ignoring the titters of the portraits watching him. Any students he passed saw the look in his eyes and kept running.

The bell for class would ring in five minutes, so he had to be quick and efficient. He took a shortcut through the bougainvillea portrait, arriving at Professor Kettleburn’s office in record time. Kettleburn was at his desk, ready and available to be rained on by dung bombs.

James knew he wouldn’t get his homework done at all now, but he was doing his girlfriend a favor, and who was he to say no to a little mischief?

[mybutcheredtongue]

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

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER FIVE (see full series list here)

1992

You reunite with Remus later in the Great Hall as you take your seats at the staff table beside each other.

"Dementors every where, just lovely," you grumble, before looking at Remus with a small smirk. "So...remind me why you didn't decide to tell me you were coming?"

Remus sighs, a small guilty smile tugging the corners of his lips upwards. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

You scoff, hitting his arm jokingly. "Fuck you, I could've spent my summer looking forward to having my best friend here with me. When did you find out?"

"Last month. Dumbledore said you had recommended me."

"I didn't necessarily recommend you, I just...may have mentioned your name along with the words 'great' and 'looking for a job'."

Remus chuckles, shaking his head. "I'm sure. But seriously, thank you. I really didn't expect him to hire me."

You lay a hand on his shoulder, smiling warmly. "You're brilliant, and I am right: you're going to be a great teacher. And hey, he hired me, didn't he? Only one who would." With that, you're reminded of your little visit from the Ministry and open your mouth to tell him about it but close it once you spot Dumbledore standing up to begin his speech.

"Welcome!" he booms brightly. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it's best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast..."

He clears his throat and continues. "As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business."

You feel your heart start to beat faster at the topic at hand, and suddenly become very interested in the empty porcelain plate in front of you.

"They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds," he says, "and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises — or even Invisibility Cloaks."

You exchange a knowing look with Remus.

"It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors."

Dumbledore pauses and looks very seriously around the Hall, and nobody moves or makes a sound.

"On a happier note," he says with renewed joy, "I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

You clap enthusiastically, smiling widely as the room fills with some...scattered, rather unethusiastic, applause. You spy Harry, Ron, and Hermione clapping heartily and smile proudly at them. You glance around at the rest of the staff, clapping politely, and notice the sour expression on Snape's face. His gaze is dripping with pure loathing as he glares at Remus. You don't know whether to be pissed at Snape or to laugh at his pettiness.

"As to our second new appointment," Dumbledore continues, as Remus' applause dies away, "well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties."

You beam down the table at Hagrid, clapping loudly. He's gone completely crimson, hiding his happy face in the tangle of his black beard.

"Well, I think that's everything of importance," Dumbledore concludes. "Let the feast begin!"

The plates and goblets lining the table in front of you fill with delicious food and you waste no time piling things onto your plate. The Hall echoes with talk, laughter and the clatter of cutlery against porcelain.

"So, now that you're here, I guess I can talk to you about...y'know," you say quietly to Remus, though the lowered volume isn't really necessary when the Great Hall is alive with such chatter and noise. "Got a visit from the Minister of Magic and a few of his buddies the last day."

"I expected as much," he replies with a sigh. "Actually, I'm so sorry, I meant to visit as soon as I found out but it was a full — "

"It's alright, Moony. I'm glad you didn't," you say with a weak smile. "They're monitoring the house again. I don't want you to have to get caught up in all this."

"Still...I feel bad about leaving you to deal with that alone."

You wave him off. "It's fine, honestly. I'm very brave." You chuckle at that last part, elbowing Remus playfully.

He doesn't seem to find it too funny, and worry lines crease his eyes as he opens his mouth to say something before shutting it, seemingly choosing against whatever he was going to say and returning to his meal.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The weeks pass much quicker than usual, spending less time bored and alone now that you have Remus to pester. Every Monday at breakfast, you wait anxiously for your delivery of The Daily Prophet, practically snatching it out of the air and rifling through it and scouring for any mention of Sirius. There are plenty, of course — constant reminders from the Ministry that they are doing everything they can to locate him.

Nothing interesting really happens, apart from Draco Malfoy throwing such a fit over Hagrid's lesson that his father is practically trying to get the heads of both Hagrid and Buckbeak on the chopping block. You understand that he was hurt...but in a magical world, most injuries are just not worth fretting over when you can pop up to Madam Pomfrey's and she'll have you mended in a minute.

You check up on Hagrid a few times for a quick cup of tea and it's obvious that the incident has shaken him and he's lost most of his excitement for his lessons. You feel awful. Hagrid has too kind of a soul to be subjected to the threats of Lucius Malfoy.

Speaking of which, you notice the uncanny resemblance between Draco and his father. Your distaste for Lucius has been present ever since you went to school together, and do your best not to let that impact the way you treat Draco — even if the fact that he decides to chat for most of his astronomy class while you are talking drives you up the walls. He is only a boy, after all, and we cannot help what values we are raised with and by whom we learn them from.

You really do wish Lucius hadn't passed on that hair to him though. It's a monstrosity.

You sigh as you sit at your desk, reading over your third years' homework. You hum quietly to yourself, Dubh sleeping soundly on your lap as you work.

You give Harry's a glance, ticking the labels scribbled beneath each star, before you find one incorrectly labeled and positioned star that strikes you as familiar. You shuffle through the other students' charts, eventually landing on Ron Weasley's, taking it out and holding it against Harry's in comparison. Same exact mistake and same exact misspelling of 'Gamma Geminorum'.

You chuckle, writing, 'Nice try' on both charts and moving on to the next.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

The Halloween feast passes with you and Remus chatting amicably, the Great Hall lit up by floating candle-filled pumpkins, flaming bright orange streamers and clouds of fluttering live bats. And the food — Hogwarts dinners are always something you miss during the summer holidays.

Later that evening, you walk through the hallways back to your room, when you hear Dumbledore yell loudly from the Gryffindor corridor. Confused and curious, you change course and head down the hallway to find a large crowd of students murmuring, all pushing themselves up onto their tippy-toes to see over the heads in front of them.

Dumbledore is at the front with Percy Weasley beside him, so you push through the students to see what all the fuss is about.

The Fat Lady's portrait is void of the woman, replaced by vicious slashes ripping through the canvas, leaving strips fallen on the ground beneath it.

Dumbledore looks at the strips of canvas on the ground, glancing up and noticing you, before his eyes shift to your right and you turn and see McGonagall, Snape and Remus hurrying towards you.

"We need to find her," he says. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady."

"You'll be lucky!" Comes a cackling voice and you immediately know the speaker.

Peeves joyfully bobs over the group of students, blowing a raspberry at one trembling first-year.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" Dumbledore says calmly, and Peeves mischief fades quickly and he takes on a much more professional tone.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he says cheerfully. "Poor thing," he adds, unconvincingly.

"Did she say who did it?" Dumbledore asks quietly.

"Oh, yes, Professorhead," Peeves replies, with a devious expression, as though he's got something truly shocking to reveal. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see."

Peeves flips over, giggling, winking at you through his own legs. "Nasty temper he's got, that Sirius Black."

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter six here!

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

sorry it's been almost a week since last upload! had a bit of writer's block 💔

[siriusblack-the-third]

marauders aesthetic: dark academia

sirius: chin length silky hair in a shag cut. fingers stained with motor oil and black ink. drives everyone crazy with the bold black eyeliner he gets marlene to teach him. twirls his wand and quills between his fingers. old leather jackets thrown over messily buttoned shirts. tie hanging untied around his neck. reads any book he can get his hands on. always has a peppermint on his person. if you're close enough to get a sniff, he smells of damp grass, leather, parchment and mint. chess comes as easy as breathing to him. can't sleep at night, so he climbs out the window and sits on the top of gryffindor tower to stare at the stars. french is his first language, and he speaks italian, greek and latin. only has to study occasionally for herbology. a properly made macchiato, always. half smirks and cocky grins, and grey eyes that spark with mischief. cruel streak a mile wide, so he hates getting angry. a little bit of a slob (it drives james mad). won the under 19 europe duelling tournament at age fourteen. god tier poker face. climbs into james' bed after particularly terrifying nightmares. hums french songs to him to calm himself down. david bowie, led zeppelin, ac/dc, sex pistols. immense raw power that sizzles under his skin and smells like lightning storms. his magic is visible in his veins when he gets emotional. silver eyes, sharp glare, wicked words, even crueler spells. mastermind behind more than half of their pranks. when he laughs, he sounds like the pureblood he is; all refined and perfect. at six feet four inches, he's the tallest of the marauders. loves giving james shit for being shorter than him. plays the violin, and composes sometimes. it reminds him of the nights he locked himself and regulus into the music room at home and played till his fingers bled. perfect waltz, perfect posture, perfect table manners and perfect posh accent.

.

remus: curly golden brown hair in messy undercuts, lanky body and lean muscles. five foot nine inches and hates it. leaves when a person lights up a cigarette; says the smell is overwhelming on his senses. always has a cup of black coffee with him, but never drinks it. comfy jumpers, pressed trousers, perfect uniform, prefect badge pinned to the front. piercings— tongue, ears, nose and lip. charms the tongue piercing to taste like chocolate. hates reading, but does read a few of the books that james recommends. will never give up a chance to sleep in. polite smiles and genial nods in the presence of teachers, quirked eyebrows and infuriating smirks otherwise— he's a two faced little bitch and he's proud of it. doesn't get angry, but does get annoyed. hates confrontation, and will get out of one as fast as possible. sharp wit, sharper tongue. dry, sarcastic remarks under his breath that make peter cry with laughter. a human heater. fingers stained with blue ink and chocolate smudges. if he's not with the marauders, he's either sleeping or studying in the library. best at defence against the dark arts, but still not as good as sirius and james. speaks welsh, scots gaelic and old english. learns french and latin from sirius. a complete, utter mess; everything from his school satchel to his wardrobe to his bed is chaos (james despairs over his habits). absolutely loathes history of magic and potions. favourite subject is care of magical creatures, mostly due to the chaos that professor kettleburn causes. elton john, cher, tchaïkovsky. cannot play any musical instrument, but loves it when sirius and james duet together. smells like chocolate, cinnamon, and honey. owns a diary, and gets called a girl for it by peter. has chronic joint pain that is aggravated by the scotland weather. difficult relationships with his parents, but he still loves them and they love him back.

.

james: messy curls long enough to be tucked behind his ears. the only one who can beat sirius at chess. had an indian accent the first three years of hogwarts. plays the piano to calm himself. six foot one inch and hates it because sirius keeps giving him shit. fingers stained with charcoal, graphite, and alta dye applied for bharatanatyam. always moving, can never sit still unless he's reading or sketching. kajal lining brown eyes and dotted behind his ear for good luck. bright smiles and fondly exasperated shakes of his head. mother hen because "none of these idiots can be trusted to look after themselves". brown skin that just gets darker from quidditch practice in the sun. reads literally anything he can get his hands on, genre does not matter. dozens of journals filled with detailed sketches of anything and everything that catches his eye (a couple of journals are dedicated solely to green eyes. a couple more are filled with sketches of sirius). outstanding at transfiguration and arithmancy. never has to study (it drives peter to apoplexy). does not get offended or angered easily, but will go off on anyone who insults his friends. fits into any clique— jock, nerd, theatre kid, musicians, you name it. hopeless romantic. hates messes, always nagging his friends to clean up after themselves. chai, always. unapologetic mama's boy. proud of his indian lineage. rises before the sun does. always has cold fingers, and steals sirius' jackets. burrows into sirius' hugs for warmth. long, scalding hot baths. mother tongue is marathi. speaks hindi, urdu, french, latin, tamil, greek and sanskrit. loves every subject except history of magic. listens to any genre of music as long as it sounds good. loves balls and galas because he gets to dress up and dance. always has some sort of indian confectionary on him— barfi, laddoo, maisurpak, gulab jamun. it adds a sugary layer to his chandan perfume.

.

peter: buzz cut, but wants to grow it out. steals james' books and never reads them. smells of earth and a woody perfume his mother got for him in fourth year. can't play chess for shit, but is better than remus at gobstones. his bed and closet are well maintained and always neat. laughs a lot (it sounds squeaky), and his eyes twinkle when he smiles. best at herbology and care or magical creatures, but he hates the latter. a sarcastic twerp and a sneaky little shit. has the normal sense of humour— the other three boys thrive off of dark jokes. absolutely loathes studying, but needs to do it, so he does (while grumbling good naturedly about sirius and james not needing to). whistles when he walks the corridors of hogwarts, with his hands in his pockets. loves the waltz, and always has a record playing at low volume whenever possible. atrocious sense of style/fashion, and gets heckled by sirius and james for it. has notebooks upon notebooks filled with little doodles that are surprisingly good. always listens when sirius or james play the violin or piano, and sometimes drags remus into a waltz to make everyone laugh. claims to be annoyed by james' mother henning, but everyone knows he adores it. friends with a lot of the younger students, and always has liquorice or lozenges on him to give to them. cat person, terrified of mcgonagall. he loves watching james perform bharatanatyam, and asked for lessons in fourth year. he gave up within a month, saying he would stick to waltzing, thank you very much. always, always, has a granola bar filled with nuts somewhere in his pockets. does not understand why mint chocolate is a thing, and absolutely refuses to eat anything that has mint in it. steals james' confectionary and gets tackled for it. will eat ice-cream no matter the season, even if he has a cold.

[nocontext-hphm]

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

The Quiz

I've recently become obsessed with The Dandy Lyon Club, so have this stupid oneshot based on one of their videos

They're just sitting in James and Lily's house, the first time all together in months, when she says it.

Sirius is resting against Remus, Remus' arm around him, with his feet in James' lap. Lily glances away from her conversation with Marlene, catches the sight, and it seems to provoke a question.

"Hey, Sirius?" The three of them turn to her, mostly surprised that she's asking Sirius a question, not Remus. "Who d'you reckon knows you better? James or Remus?"

"Oh, uh..." Sirius considers it carefully for a moment, and Remus watches him with a smile. "You know, I have no clue. What do you guys think?" He glances between his best friend and his boyfriend, but they both shrug.

"I don't think I've ever thought about it," Remus says casually, half expecting that to be the end of it.

"No, wait, I'm curious now," Sirius says with a smile, and Remus can already feel the dregs of a scheme dawning on his boyfriend. A scheme he probably won't want to be a part of. "How can we figure it out?"

"A quiz," Marlene says without missing a beat. "A competition between Remus and James."

"Oh, we don't need to-" James starts, but it's already decided amongst the rest of their friends.

"That's a brilliant fucking idea!" Mary says brightly, and Remus wants to facepalm. He honestly doesn't care if James knows more about Sirius, because he loves Sirius. That's all he really cares about. Still, it's clearly not up to him or James.

That's how they find themselves still at the house at three in the morning, Remus and James sat either side of Sirius on a sofa. Peter, Mary, Lily and Dorcas are sat on the floor, Marlene in an armchair beside the sofa, parchment in hand. Apparently, she had written all of the questions, and Sirius just had to confirm who answered correctly. Lily's been put in charge of points, holding a quill and a journal. Remus still doesn't see the point in it, but at least his friends seem to be enjoying themselves. Besides, it could be fun. Maybe.

"Okay, I have ten questions. They're going to get progressively harder, and both of you have to give an answer before Sirius reveals what the correct answer is," Marlene explains. Remus and James both nod, and Marlene wastes no time in launching into her first question. "Number one: when is Sirius' birthday?" Remus breathes a disbelieving laugh.

"The third of November, everybody knows that," Remus says, and James nods in agreement.

"Yeah, the third."

"Marlene, that was a bit too easy," Sirius says with a chuckle.

"Don't worry, I'm just getting started," she answers with a smile.

Yeah, that doesn't exactly fill Remus with confidence.

The next few questions leave them tied because, again, who doesn't know basic shit like Sirius' middle name?

"Right, question five: who's Sirius' favourite relative? Not including Regulus," she adds quickly, and-

Oh.

Okay, yeah, that's tricky.

"...Andy?" James tries, and Remus knows they have a better chance of figuring it out if they guess two different names.

"Er... Alphard."

"James is right, Andy's the best one," Sirius says, pointing briefly to James while he laces his fingers through Remus'.

"Finally! Okay, James is a point ahead. Question six: which Hogwarts Professor would Sirius shag?" Sirius snickers, and Remus just frowns, confused.

What the fuck are these questions? How can they get harder than a literal guessing game? He and James guess dutifully, though.

"Slughorn."

"Dumbledore."

"Guys, come on," Sirius says disbelievingly. "Kettleburn, obviously!"

"Padfoot, that makes no sense!" James argues.

"Right, since Remus needs a chance to even the playing field again," Marlene interjects quickly, "sorry James, the next question is an easy one for Remus."

That doesn't exactly fill Remus with confidence.

"Alright! Question seven: when was the last time Sirius had sex?"

"Oh, that's not-" Sirius starts, but James doesn't waste a second in answering.

"Last week."

Hold on.

For a second, Remus is at a loss for words. Namely because James is right.

"...yeah. Yeah, last week. That was- James, that was a very quick answer," he says, more than a little concerned and having forgotten that most of his friends are present. "Why does he know that?" He asks Sirius, who just shrugs.

"I don't really think before I speak," he answers simply.

"I was just expressing concern," James says innocently, eyes meeting Remus'. "Y'know, a whole week-"

"Oh, fuck right off, you know full well why it's been a week! It was the full!" He argues, and he can see Sirius laughing beside him. "Can we move on?" Remus asks, turning to Marlene, who's clearly trying to avoid laughing herself. She nods, eyes flicking back down to her parchment.

"Okay, right, uh..."

She doesn't get the next question out before she dissolves into laughter, and before Remus even knows what has happened, they're all laughing with her. Sirius drops his face into Remus' shoulder for a moment, and Remus just wraps an arm around his waist.

Something tells him that the quiz is over.

[nettedtangible]

The first chapter to my new fic Burn It All is now up on Ao3

The fic is Jegulus first war canon divergence

check it out here or read the first chapter below :D

***

The first time they’d tackled boggarts in class, everyone had thought it was a bit of a laugh.

Regulus had been in third year, sat in his Defence Against the Dark Arts class when Professor Kettleburn had come stumping in on his wooden leg, announcing to the rather timid new Defence Professor- a Professor Merry-something- that the groundskeeper- Hagrid- had caught a boggart hiding out in his cauldron. The man had robustly proclaimed that Dumbledore had considered it a good learning opportunity for the Defence students and without further preamble had levitated in a bulky chest, setting it at the head of the class with a loud thump. The students had drawn closer, leaning over their desks to get a better view, drawing in a collective breath of alarm when the thing had shaken and rattled against the flagstones.

“Wands out then,” the Defence Professor had said in an attempt at self-assured command. Regulus had pursed his lips, unimpressed. There had been a monumental scraping and within seconds, the desks and chairs had been carelessly shoved to the side, a sizeable swathe of floor left open in front of the wooden chest.

Kettleburn had given the briefest of descriptions as to what – in fact – a Boggart was, before thumping away with just as much ceremony as his arrival. Professor Merry-weather? Merry-flower?- Regulus couldn’t remember- had then followed up by giving a much longer, and much less comprehensive account of the creatures. She had showed them the spell and given them their instructions and waved her wand at the lock all before the students had much of a chance to comport themselves at all.

Chaos had reigned. Regulus leaned against the back wall, twirling his wand idly in his hand, watching his classmates run around like headless horsemen for the better part of the period. The Boggart had begun to target students, assuming the form of a vampire, a snarling wolf-like beast, and a truly horrific pantomime figure that one of the half-blood Ravenclaws informed him was a muggle ‘party clown.’ Some students ran up valiantly, brandishing their wands with laughter bubbling in their throats, ready to take on whatever fear may be thrown at them. Regulus shook his head in disgust, Gryffindors.

Eventually the pandemonium had reached a fever pitch, sending the majority of the present students into fits of nervous laughter, which was particularly exacerbated when one Gryffindor boy forwent his wand altogether and took a mighty swing, punching the Boggart- now something called a ‘zombie’- right across the face. Two of his friends jumped into action beside him and all three attempted to tackle the Boggart, landing on a heap amongst themselves as the creature transformed.

“Now really-” Professor Defence shouted, brandishing her wand uselessly. “Single file. Single file. How many times do I have to say it.”

“How about once more,” Regulus muttered, causing Barty next to him to snort with laughter, always delighted whenever Regulus deigned to engage in something as undignified as sarcasm. 

All the laughter in the room seemed to have confused the thing, subdued it somewhat. Ironically, the opposite effect was seeping through the students, the infectious excitement and adrenaline-fuelled mania only redoubling in intensity. Barty was in his element, dancing through the throng and stirring the pot any which way he could. Regulus thought he even saw the boy taking bets on people’s fears. He shook his head with a slight nose exhale. The Regulus equivalent of a laugh.

“Alright, alright, alright!” the Professor yelled above the clamour. “Single file, while it’s confused.”

The class haphazardly obliged, clumping together in the middle of the room as the Professor ushered them forward in turn. Most students had no issues with the creature, despite the utter lack of instruction or any proper teaching really, the charm was simple enough and the energy in the classroom was doing the bulk of the legwork.

“Stebbins, really!” the Professor cried, affronted as one of the Hufflepuff boys had turned the Boggart from some terrifying form of Medusa to another, rather less clothed and more voluptuous version of Medusa.

“I’m facing my fears Professor,” the boy implored, smirking as he received down-low high fives behind his back from several of his peers.

“Everyone needs to have a turn, keep the line coming. You three at the back, participation please.” Regulus sighed, looking between Evan and Pandora. Barty was somewhere in the thick of the line, dolling out sickles.

“What’ll yours be then?” Evan asked him as the three had pushed off from the wall, joining the back of the line reluctantly. Regulus had shrugged, trying his hardest to keep well stored images from bursting forth in his mind. His mother with a raised wand. His father with a raised wand. Sirius, bloody and cowering. He cleared his throat.

“I know what yours’ll be,” Pandora taunted, giving her brother a shove, causing the boy’s face to fall and pale as he shot her a minute head shake. She laughed viciously at his panic.

"Gentlemen,” Barty had emerged from the crown, purse full. “Merlin, everyone is so predictable, I won at least six bets.”

“How nice,” Regulus drawled, his calm demeanour more fastly held on than ever, as if some internal version of himself had run around in a panic, stapling the inside of his face to his skull.

“Merlin the Gryffindors are thick,” Evan smirked, hand over his forehead as the Boggart took on three of their red-clad peers at once, wands, yet again, seemingly forgotten. Pandora laughed musically, her tinkling voice at odds with the underbelly of ruthless cruelty Regulus knew the girl to possess. Really she ought to be in Slytherin, he thought. Though she did look beautiful in blue.

“This is perhaps the most useless class we’ve ever had,” Regulus sighed, resuming his wand twirling, “at least Binns says something mildly interesting every few hours.” Barty snorted next to him.

“You’re the only one that’d know.” Regulus thinned his lips, almost a smile.

“HA!” cried a girl at the front of the room, a burst of gold light exploding out of her wand and blasting the Boggart to smithereens.

“Well,” Professor Useless said a few minutes later, dusting off her robes and looking extremely flustered, “now you all know how to tackle a Boggart,”

Regulus sighed, raising his eyes slightly to the ceiling.

“I don’t get it,” one of the Hufflepuff boys- Stebbins- said as they all traipsed out of the classroom, half of them splitting off to Potions and the other half to Charms, “I thought boggarts were supposed to be some sort of big deal. They’re not scary at all.”  

“I thought it was a right laugh,” smirked one of the Gryffindor boys- the one who’d thrown a punch. Several of his cackling friends jumped on his back, extoling his heroics. Regulus took a deep breath and finally tucked his wand away, ignoring his friends as they animatedly discussed the events of the lesson.

***

No one thought they were much of a laugh anymore.

Regulus was in sixth year now, and it had been three years since Hogwarts had played host to a Boggart of any sort. Now, Professor Sinistra had found one lurking in the Astronomy tower and it had been brought into the Defence classroom for practice.

‘Brushing up,’ McGonagall had called it as she announced the joint session. The younger year levels had already had their turns with it- supposedly in a much more orderly fashion than the infamous third years of 1974.

The fifth-year students had had an entire afternoon devoted to it; their new Defence Professor Broadbranch having hinted it would come up in their O.W.L.s. Now the sixth and seventh years were crowded up in the classroom together, McGonagall at the head, ensuring things ran smoothly. Perhaps she remembered which class it had been that caused the notorious Boggart episode in the first place.

“Single file,” she instructed in a clipped tone, meeting no resistance. Broadbranch reminded them all of the charm and the wand movement, instructing them to plan ahead for their humorous transformations. Regulus sighed, leaning against the wall at the very back.

“I don’t know why we’re bothering with this,” came an obnoxious drawl from somewhere to his left, “this is first year stuff.” He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, always nearer the surface whenever his brother was involved.

“Stop whinging Pads,” came the dry voice of Remus Lupin, towering mildly over his friends as he helped a couple of other students with the wand movement, showing them how to flick their wrists.

“I just think we all have better things to do,” Sirius responded roundly, causing his other two insipid friends, James Potter and Peter Pettigrew to laugh sycophantically. Regulus looked away, irritated.

“Mm, like that prank you were planning to pull in the fourth-floor girls’ lavatories?” Lupin responded blandly. Regulus didn’t have to look to know Sirius was smirking.

“Black you fucking bastard,” one of the muggleborn girls yelled at his brother and Regulus had to keep the ghost of a smile from alighting his face, “you know that’s the only loos with decent mirrors around here.” Sirius laughed gallantly, spinning the girl around in a circle under his arm.

“Don’t worry MacDonald, I wasn’t going to harm the mirrors.”

“Oh really, what were you going to do then knucklehead?”

“He was going to have all the taps spout unstemmable Manegro potion,” Lupin supplied, a twinkle in his eye that Regulus hadn’t noticed before. The red-head- Evans- next to them groaned.

“Fucking Manegro, hair growth potion? You absolute bastard Sirius.” The boy in question threw back his head in a laugh.

“It wears off after a few hours,” he smiled winningly, earning himself several arm slaps from several different girls.

“I- am- not- walking- around- with- hair- sprouting- out- of- my- face.” Evans smacked him with every word. Regulus bit his lip slightly to hide the smile, looking away instantly when he caught eyes with James Potter. Ah fuck. He chanced a glance back, infuriated to see the Potter boy was still looking at him, amusement lurking behind his eyes. Regulus turned roundly away, straightening his posture and tuning out the annoying conversation.

“Everyone’s will definitely have changed,” Pandora was saying to Barty, who was dropping some sickles between his hands. “No one will still be afraid of the same things they were at thirteen.”

“Care to make a wager?” the boy replied, eyebrow raising in challenge. Regulus leaned back against the wall, utterly disinterested.

“Attention,” McGonagall called out over the heads of the students. Many, like Regulus, were bored, or seemed to feel as though they had something better to do. Others, like his insufferable brother, were simply taking the opportunity to mill about with their friends.

“Now, you’re all N.E.W.T. students and you all know what you’re doing so this shouldn’t take long. It’s a quick brush up for each of you. Dumbledore thought it prudent in these… troubled times.” A whisper flew around the room at her words. Ah yes. The war.

It never seemed to be truly out of sight these days, hanging about their existence like a cloak disappearing behind a door. Never really there, never really gone. There had been several attacks in the last few weeks alone. And more to come, as Regulus knew for a fact, though didn’t have anywhere to put that information, merely storing it away in the neat filing cabinet of thoughts he had arranged in his brain.

It had been coming on for a while now, the attacks, the escalations. Regulus could see it in the way his parents’ behaviour changed at home. It wouldn’t be long until he was asked to take the Mark. He could feel it. He was entirely unsure as to what he would say when the time came. His shoulders hunched inward slightly. Knowing better than he did himself his lack of choice in all matters.

“One at a time please. Potter, Evans, as head boy and girl you can start us off and oversee the line.” Professor McGonagall instructed before pointing her wand at the rattling telescope cabinet. Regulus straightened up off the wall, looking over to the front of the room in a slight panic, trying to shake the encroaching thoughts from his mind. What would his Boggart be? he thought, feeling rather frantic in some deep, unaccessed place in his chest. Would it be Sirius under the cruciatus curse? Would it be his mother, his father? Voldemort himself? Regulus had only ever seen the man in person once, at his cousin Bellatrix’s gala in the summer. It had been rather less of a gala and more of war rally, and Regulus had hung back from the throng on that occasion as well, but he’d seen more than enough of Voldemort to send a chill right down his spine to the soles of his feet.

He was snapped from his reverie by a scream. It was Lily Evans, staring at some corpses, Regulus presumed her family members. Potter was taking her into his arms as she sobbed profusely, passing her to two of the Gryffindor girls who had rushed forward to comfort her.

The rest of the lesson proceeded much like this. Each person stepped forward with grim determination set on their faces, or else raised hands of fearful trembling, and each person was greeted with much the same thing. Disfigured family members. Family members being tortured. Inferi. Dementors. Once a little girl, hanging from a noose, swinging as if from a tree. The girl who conjured that Boggart had had to be escorted from the room by Broadbranch. McGonagall stood at the head of the class through it all, mouth a thin line, face set in a stony mask. Potter was taking it upon himself to move the line along, offering each student to face the Boggart a hand on the shoulder or a hug. Regulus once again fought the urge to roll his eyes at the performance of it all.

Nobody thought Boggarts were funny anymore.

When Sirius stepped forward, Regulus actually leaned to the side, angling for a better look in spite of himself. The Boggart transformed and he blinked, looking into his own face, staring blankly back at him. On his arm rested a blood-red Dark Mark.

“Riddikulus,” Sirius said, sounding almost bored, and the Boggart-Regulus turned into child Regulus, half stuck through thin air. Regulus remembered it as the time he’d gotten stuck in one of the magical doorways of the Black manor and Sirius had laughed himself silly before even attempting to help him. They’d found his arm on the fifth floor eventually. Sirius let out the slightest chuckle before moving aside, Potter placing a steading hand on his shoulder that was immediately shrugged off. Sirius looked utterly unconcerned, though Regulus could see clearly his hands were shaking- badly.

A few more students were next. And it was a lot of dead relatives. And tortured loved ones. Remus Lupin saw his three friends dead on the ground. Sirius stared down at his own corpse, wide eyed. Lupin had simply hitched in a breath, casting McGonagall a defeated glance and a shrug before murmuring “Riddikulus,” and causing party hats to appear on each of his dead friends’ heads. At this not Lupin, but Sirius, had barked out a genuine laugh, running to slam a hug into his friend. McGonagall said nothing about the commotion, she was still looking down at the behatted bodies of her three students.

“I think we’d all have a cracking party in the afterlife,” Potter called out heartily, sweeping an arm out to his friends. “Everyone’s invited of course!” A few watery laughs echoed out in response.

“What are you gonna see Reg?” Dora asked him in an undertone as they shuffled forward in line. Regulus shrugged, still staring at his dead brother on the ground, gone in an instant and replaced with somebody else’s dead brother.

“I have no idea,” he murmured truthfully, panic seizing his insides at the words. He didn’t like feeling this out of control. He didn’t like not knowing. It churned around inside him. His Boggart could be anything- and at this point he was half hoping it was Voldemort, that at least wouldn’t be novel, they’d had him a couple times already.

The Slytherins approached last, all congregated together at the back of the line. Regulus barely paid any attention as his peers took their turns, his mind sharply spiralling in abject terror.

Barty was up, playing with the Boggart and the only one who seemed to be having any sort of genuine fun with the exercise. Ironically, the only one who likely had any real chance of defeating the thing as he cackled and forced it to transform again and again. Regulus could do nothing but watch, wide-eyed and frozen in fear. He was next. What was it going to be? Whatever it was, everyone would see. Sirius would see. His breaths began to come shorter, and his heart thudded wildly in his chest. He noticed, vaguely, that Barty was still taunting the thing, the thought registering dimly that perhaps his best friend was attempting to finish it off before it got to be his turn. He didn’t have the ability to feel gratitude against the mounting panic right now. He also noticed, slightly less vaguely and more sharply- adding to the terror- that James Potter was watching him intently from behind his ridiculous glasses. Regulus forced his face into something calmer, colder. He would not betray his fear in front of all these people. In front of Potter. He simply wouldn’t allow it. Despite his façade, however, his insides were clamouring against his rib cage, a mess of organs and guts and muscle and flesh, pounding at bone doors, desperate to get out. He felt like a caged animal, wounded and violent, twisting and turning against frozen metal bars, searching for an escape, even if that meant going through himself.

Barty was excused by McGonagall. His way was open. He stepped forward, breaths shallower than ever. Potter stood to the side, entirely too close. He wanted to scream at him to get away. To give him space. But he certainly wouldn’t be able to open his mouth at the moment even if he tried. He turned to the Boggart, some strange and unholy amalgamation from Barty’s ministrations and saw it begin to spin, churning sickeningly before his eyes. He flinched. He couldn’t help it. He flinched away, eyes screwed shut against the truth. And then, all of a sudden, he was on the ground and the Boggart was shifting between two unrecognisable forms.

“Potter, what the fuck,” he hissed at the boy who had knocked him to the ground. Potter scrambled back, rubbing his neck.

“Ah, shit,” he said, smirking slightly, “sorry Reg.”

Regulus blanched at being called ‘Reg’, by James fucking Potter of all people, and opened his mouth to spit back an insult to find it was filled with hair. Whipping his face around in confusion, Regulus brought his hands up, touching his skin, every inch of which was now covered in rapidly growing black curls.

“I don’t know what happened Professor, I just tripped,” Potter was imploring to an enraged McGonagall, who was reminding him of his place as head-boy and stripping points along with a detention.

“The bottle must’ve broken in my pocket when I fell,” Potter smiled self-effacingly, rubbing his neck. “Self-conscious about my hairline, you know.”

Regulus noticed Sirius staring stonily at the boy, felt confusion bubble up at this unexpected turn of events.

“Crouch, stop whatever you’re undoubtedly doing and take Mr. Black to the hospital wing,” McGonagall instructed sharply, causing Barty to twirl from where he was overseeing the distribution of winnings.

“Certainly Professor,” the boy said smoothly, smile slightly too wolfish to be charming as he hauled Regulus to his feet and got him out the door.

“Potter is such a fucking prat,” Regulus spat as his hands ran through the curls on his face, grown to the length of the hair on his head. Barty laughed next to him.

“Yeah but he got you out of it, didn’t he. Silver linings, right?” Regulus paused for a second. Potter had gotten him out of tackling the Boggart. His mouth thinned slightly. Perhaps it was worth a face full of hair after all.

One thing, however, was for absolute certain. James Potter would have to pay.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

peter pettigrew headcanons because he needs to be appreciated by more people, more often

the most approachable out of the marauders and also the one that dated the most between them. was always a very good and caring boyfriend, but his relationships weren’t always long, as they often aren’t with teenagers

no one ever beats him at gobstones and he always laugh in their faces when they get sprayed. he finds it incredibly amusing

care of magical creatures is his favourite subject, and professor kettleburn loves him to bits (he wished he was better in potions, though)

knows the most gossip out of all of his friends

if he had to pick a position in the wizarding world, he would have wanted to be a healer. however, he always wanted to be a journalist

stress-bites his nails

takes a lot of time in the bathroom; loves having long showers that mostly consist in him belting out songs at the top of his lungs (sirius ends up slamming his fists into the door and peter always yelps)

deep sleeper and always grumpy in the morning, most especially when be has to wake up early for classes

was always closest with marlene, mary and lily out of his friends; they considered him the most likeable, and marlene was childhood friends with him

has high alcohol tolerance, but gets high easily; the kind of high person who finds everything funny and giggles at anything