#Remus brought him breakfast in bed

[laufeysvalentine]

i want you. pt 2, remus lupin

intertwined, sewn together

remus lupin x fem!reader | masterlist, pt 1

summary ༄ remus x best friend!reader -- the aftermath of you accidentally confessing your love for remus and running away, hurt/comfort, fluff

word count ༄ 4.1k

nora’s notes ༄ so sorry for the delay on this, thank you so so so much for all the love on the first part and for 200 followers??? that's gen insane i love all of you 💘 i haven't proofread so pls excuse grammar

you’ve barely gotten a wink of sleep next morning, and it shows. you finally crash in the morning to sleep through breakfast and lunch. 

at two, you’re up, but barely. you feel like absolute shit. the feeling only worsens when lily comes in, pity in her face. she knows what happened, and the pity only means one thing–there’s a reason he hasn’t come by, and it’s not because he’s in love with you. 

burying your head in your pillow, you let out a loud groan. 

“y/n?” she pulls back your covers and offers a plate up to you. “remus brought this for you, cause you weren’t at breakfast or lunch.” 

“don’t say his name in my presence,” you beg her, only half-joking. the plate she brought has all your favorite foods from the great hall, and you hate that remus knows you so well, well enough to pick them out. 

“he wants to talk to you,” she says once she’s sat on her own bed a few feet from you. “he just didn’t want to cross your boundaries. i’ll tell him off if you’d like, just let me know.” 

“i love you, lily, but it’s not necessary. it’s not his fault half of hogwarts loves him and the prettiest girl out there fell to his feet,” you huff, a sadness leaking out of you. you want to blame him. but really, you can’t. “he didn’t do anything wrong. i guess.” 

lily’s eyebrow raises as she waits for you to elaborate. “he did make you fall to his feet, didn’t he.” 

“you know who i’m talking about.” as if you could compare to celeste… although you’re pleased with the compliment. “and i’m still mad.” 

“you have every right to be,” she concedes, mouth open to say something when the door bursts open, carrying in a flustered marlene. 

“please, y/n, i’m begging you. do something about him. he’s run off and sirius can’t find him, so he’s bugged james about it who’s bugging me, and i can’t take it anymore.” her cheeks are flushed, begging, but you can’t bring yourself to listen to her. “i’d never do this to you, but i’ll truly rip my ears off for another moment of this.” 

“marlene.” lily’s glaring at the blonde, grabbing her by the elbow. “don’t listen to her, y/n. do whatever you want.” 

as much as you feel bad, you’re not ready. you don’t want to face him, like, ever. 

and that’s what you resolve to do for the whole next week. knowing remus, he would never make you uncomfortable, not on purpose, at least, but he knows you too well to make you uncomfortable by accident. so, three days later, when you stumble into breakfast with approximately thirty minutes of sleep and bags suitcases under your eyes to match it and choose the seat farthest away from him, he doesn’t move closer to you. 

still, you feel his eyes on you the whole time, but you just stare down at your plate, making pictures with the eggs and ketchup. while half-listening to marlene’s blabbering, you craft a smiley face, then a frowny face to match your mood, a mickey mouse, and then this girl that you hate for no reason because she’s really not hateable at all you just hate her because she kissed this guy who’s your best friend but technically you’re not even dating you’re just in love with him. fuck. you push away the eggs and glance around the table. the first thing you notice is him noticing you–it’s the first day you’ve not felt too lovesick and heartbroken to ditch class and meals, for risk of seeing him, so your presence speaks for itself. even then, every morning you wake up to an artfully arranged plate outside your door, laden with your favorite foods. the same comes for lunch and dinner, and you’re not stupid. you know he sends them. 

but you can’t talk to him. not now that you know he’s not in love with you like you are with him, at least not as much. he might even like celeste by now. not “might,” he probably does. you wouldn’t hold it against him. they would be beautiful together. a fresh round of nausea sloshes into the walls of your gut. 

when you deem it socially appropriate to leave, you take the chance, getting up with the masses heading to class, trying to slip through the crowd to avoid him. 

“y/n,” sirius croons from your right, so close you can feel his hot breath on your ears, and your heart sinks. where sirius is, the marauders are soon to follow. “oh, how i missed you this past eternity.” 

you grimace at him, pushing his cheek away from your face. “hi, padfoot. it’s been three days.” 

“and what days they’ve been!” he proclaims dramatically, slinging an arm around your shoulder and pretending to faint. 

“siri. i’m not in the mood.” you mutter, slipping out from under his arm, chancing a glance behind you to make sure the blond you would recognize anywhere is not here. you’re in the clear for now, you’ve no clue where he, peter, and james have gone or why they’re so far from sirius. 

he senses your mood shift and transforms into serious sirius. “you need to get back with moony.” 

when you blow out a heavy breath, your hair flies forwards and hangs limply on your face. “a, as i said, it’s been like three days. b, we were never together so i can’t ‘get back’ with him. c, and listen carefully when i say this, i don’t want to.” he doesn’t want me are the words you leave sour and dormant on your tongue. 

“but, y/n,” he pouts. “he really misses you, even if it’s only been a little while. he’s a wreck, knowing he made you cry.” 

you’ve heard enough. of course. this is why the marauders aren’t near him. it’s a ploy, an intervention if you may. 

“no, don’t even.” you pull away from him and push through the throngs of students to get away from him. you toss out a parting over your shoulder before slipping away, “i’ll see you in class.” 

just kidding. you sneak back into your dorm and let the blankets swallow you, watching the ceiling to pass the time. remus is not in love with you. he never will be. 

as you count the amount of nicks in the ceiling paint for the forty-hundredth time, you think about him again. as you have for the past eight years. 

even if he’s not in love with you–you can’t imagine a life without him. you can’t sacrifice your friendship, all those friendly touches, the feeling of his warm hand splayed against your back, the sight of him curled in his bed with his newest book. how could you never discuss your favorite books with him again? how could you sacrifice that golden look that makes you melt over as you speak? those perfectly brewed cups of tea, vanilla-scented sweaters, knitted thickly with love? 

he’s your best friend. the answer is, you could never live without him. even if you’re in love with him and he’s not, in fact, in love with you back. you’ll just have to get over it. 

whoever painted this ceiling left fourteen cracks. 

–

you’re going to get over him, you swear it. this is what you repeat as you walk into the great hall, your eyes trained on the ground, slipping into the seat next to lily. you refuse to look at him or any of his friends. you won’t. you can’t. 

it’s the first time you’re here. sure, you came by the table this morning, but drawing pictures with ketchup until the whole plate looks like you murdered the bottle isn’t exactly engaging. now, you and marlene are conversing about stupid things: the shoes you need in your wardrobe, your favorite song to listen to while crying in the shower vs. in your bed. and important questions, like what’s better, milk or dark chocolate (dark chocolate, obviously, and don’t even think about saying white chocolate. that is not real chocolate)? 

you can feel his eyes on you, drilling almond brown holes into your skull. the urge to look up chokes you. you want to see the curve of his smile, how lopsided it leans on him, the scars that dance around his lips. but you steel yourself. you can’t. you won’t. 

–

you’re ignoring him. the problem is, it’s not really working. 

no matter where you are, you can feel his eyes on you; even if you’re across the classroom, you swear you can smell the earthiness of his cologne, his sweaters. 

fuck. 

you are not getting over him anytime soon. 

the two of you manage to avoid any contact for what feels like months–days, maybe. in the hallways, you brush past each other, sometimes mumbling an apology or two as you pass. nothing sincere. nothing short of incredibly, incredibly awkward. 

you tuck yourself into hidden corners of the library, the astronomy tower, the room of requirement, anywhere where you can get away. from him, from the scary softness of sirius’ eyes when he looks at you, the even more terrifying relative quiet from marlene, who was seemingly instructed to give you space by lily. everything is awkward. and it’s all your fault. 

when the glances stares fade, you know why, and you hate yourself for knowing. the full moon’s nearing. remus’ shoulders are sagging, his looks come from lower down. his body is aching more and more, he twists around nearly every class you have together, something you know he’s always done to try and alleviate some pain. his undereyes are bruised and swollen, and you see the brass of his cane around the common room, and you hate that you aren’t there for him. he hates that thing, he always tries to avoid using it. 

it must be especially bad this time around. 

and when lily comes into your dorm the day before the full moon, skin sunken with exhaustion, you figure something’s up. 

“lily?” you ask, jolting up from your book. the mug of tea that he drank the night you stopped talking is still by your bedside. you can’t bring yourself to move it. what if that’s your last memory with him? 

“hm?” she murmurs, flopping onto her bed. 

“what’s wrong?” you ask as you turn your body towards hers. 

she waves her head, face in the pillow. 

“you can talk to me about him,” you frown. “it’s related to him, isn’t it? the full moon?” 

the redhead sits up, looks at you. she’s not one to lie, never has been. “...yeah. james is just stressed, because he thinks this transformation has already been really painful for him, and it’s only going to get worse tomorrow.” 

your head is bobbing. you swallow your feelings–what is that, guilt? shame? you don’t know what. maybe celeste broke up with him. not everything is related to you. 

“mhm,” you say in response. absorbing. 

she hesitates, mouth opening, before shutting it again. “it’s–well, i don’t…” 

you shrug. “you don’t have to say anything, lily.” 

so she doesn’t. 

—

lily’s right. in the eight years you’ve known him, he has never looked so rough pre-transition. you steal peeks at him all day, like he’s a tv show you weren’t supposed to watch as a kid. it looks like the life is steaming out of him. his hair–artfully messy, as always—is mussed and unwashed. when he walks out of the classroom, it’s a limp, with a slow clunk to it that makes your chest hurt. you want nothing more than to rush over and help him, but no. if he wanted you, well, if he didn’t want celeste, he would have come after you. 

he doesn’t want you. you repeat that to yourself when you see him almost pass out onto his plate during lunch, making a worried sirius (yes, sirius of all people, who usually tries to stay calm in situations like these) rush him to his dorm. 

but he reappears only an hour later for potions, when his back is tensed, tight, and his shoulders are hunched over. slughorn tries to call on him twice, but he pretends he isn’t there. 

your chest aches when he doesn’t show up to dinner, and halfway through, the rest of the marauders disappear, muttering to themselves as they go. you rub your collarbone and watch, your anxiety heightened. 

once the great halls door slam, the first place your eyes dart to is the hufflepuff table. you don’t even need to look around to see her. everyone within a ten-person vicinity is ever so slightly turned towards her, like her charisma is impossible to ignore. they want to be her, be with her, know her. 

she’s speaking animatedly, tossing out an airy laugh now and then. maybe remus hasn’t told her yet. 

some evil, petty part of you relishes in that fact. 

the girls are watching you, eyes wide and lips pursed. they’re trying to read you, determine how you’re feeling. dorcas, of all people, has been checking in on you everyday since you and remus fell out, and marlene too, in her own sarcastic way. but seeing them together made you ache for a cavity that could never be filled. a gryffindor love, a spectacular love. one that existed in your if onlys. 

you head straight to your room after dinner to try and throw yourself into your homework, but the distraction doesn’t work. you can’t stop thinking about remus. is he okay? you wish you could be with him. why did you start ignoring him in the first place? 

as the stars fade into the sky, lily bursts through the door, mary an hour later. marlene sneaks in, then out, then in again, with dorcas by her hand. but as time ticks, ticks, ticks, you can’t stop from looking at it. you’re the only one awake now, but the marauders probably aren’t back yet. 

you try your hardest to battle the reluctance that accompanies you to your bed, but you can’t. you just lie there, body tensed as images of remus run through your mind. the two of you visiting his hometown, or him on your lap, your favorite place for him to be. you’ll never forget the feeling of his coarse hair against the lilting touch of your fingers, or how he would turn onto his side, nose bumping against your stomach as he nuzzled into you. 

after waiting what feels like hours, you check the clock. yes. he’s back now. you rise as quietly as you can, slipping out of the dorms and darting towards the hospital room. is he okay? 

madam pomfrey is nowhere to be seen, and as you pass blue curtain to blue curtain, all you can hear is your shuffling. no one’s here–save for one figure on the end, flat on their back, moonlight filtering through the window above them. 

it hugs him in a most flattering light, his eyes closed and relaxed. fuck, he’s already sleeping. you don’t know if you should be happy he won’t see you or not. on your tiptoes, you creep towards his bed, where there’s a chair on his right. when you touch it, it’s still warm. the marauders must have just left. 

here he is. remus lupin. 

your eyes scan his face and arms, any body part that’s left out from the blankets. he has a fresh cut running from his elbow upwards, through where his t-shirt curls around his bicep. for someone with such fresh scars, he looks so, so beautiful. 

the second you sit down on the chair, his eyes fly open. 

oh. 

he wasn’t sleeping after all. 

perhaps the most awkward minute of your life passes, the two of you just staring at each other. your lips are parted, limbs frozen, anticipating. 

“rem?” you squeak out, reaching out to touch him as you usually would. you want to trace the scar that runs down his cheek, but he pulls away, muttering. 

without even acknowledging you, he turns on his side, burying his head into the pillow. 

“oh,” you breathe. he doesn’t want you there. you’re so stupid. why the hell would you come here? you know he likes celeste. you saw them kissing for merlin’s sake. 

you’re trying your best to stifle a gasp as your eyes become sticky with tears. what the fuck were you thinking? 

“stop it. just stop it,” he groans. “why are you bothering me again?” 

your limbs are stuck in place. for some reason, you can’t think, move. your thoughts are spinning in circles, racing around your mind. nothing’s coherent right now. 

you look at him again, his muscles shifting against the cotton of his t-shirt, and swallow. this is goodbye, isn’t it? your lips twist. 

“i-i’m sorry. i know you probably want to get your rest, i’ll just–” you have to force yourself to stand up, but when you do, your hand accidentally brushes his back on the small bed, and he jerks back, electrocuted. “oh, i–sorry.” 

he jolts upright, hands on the bed to support him. “dove?” 

you pause your movements, unsure what to do. he knew who you were before, didn’t he? what happened? 

maybe he’s just delirious from lack of sleep. you begin to walk away when a warm hand wraps around your wrist, drawing you backwards. 

“y/n. i–” he stops when you face him, and you can see the exact moment he sees the tears in your eyes, as he pulls you onto the bed, thumb sweeping the wetness under your eye like it’s second nature. his palm, rough with calluses and scars, supports the softness of your cheek, and you melt. “you’re here. you’re really here?” 

his eyes, that soft amber, spilling over with uncertainty and… regret? the same way he would look after one of the marauders’ particularly nasty pranks, or snapping at one of his friends close to the full moon. 

you nod, shoulders tense. “i just wanted to come stop by. i didn’t mean to–”

“no, no,” he interrupts, his other hand coming up to rub your arm. “i’m sorry. i didn’t… i’ve just been having, er, i’ve been having dreams of you all week. i thought you weren’t real.” 

his face is sparkling with earnestness, a kind of hope you hadn’t seen on him in a while. when you don’t say anything, he takes it as a cue to continue. “i’m also sorry for everything. i thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore. or… i don’t know.” 

“it’s okay, rem,” you promise, trying to build up the cracks threatening to crumble your voice and your resolve. you try to pull away from his touch, but his fingers just find your knee instead, massaging the flesh there. “i didn’t want to get between you and celeste or anything. it seemed like the right thing to do.” the last part of your voice comes out in a throaty whisper. 

“no.” he says firmly. 

“no?” you ask, shoulders crawling towards your shoulders. 

“no. i want you in my life, dove, always. i–celeste and i aren’t anything. i don’t like her. i never did.” his voice peters out, but his gaze on you stays strong. “there’s another girl.” 

does he hate you? want to kill you? because that’s sure what he’s doing right now, and he knows you too well to not know the effect he’s having on you. like he took the sword of gryffindor and peeked it into your chest–not enough to kill you by brunt force, but enough to maim, to let you bleed out onto the bed as you stare at him, betrayal tearing open your veins. 

“that’s nice, remus.” you don’t even know how words are coming out of your mouth at this point. maybe someone’s taken over your body? 

“i’m sorry for not coming up to you, too. i thought it was the right thing to do,” he says quietly, one of his hands dropping from your face. goosebumps follow where his skin met yours. you think the next sound you hear is the crack crack cracking of your heart. “i thought you wanted space from me. and you deserve that. i only let her kiss me cause… well, cause i thought i had to get over you.” 

what?

he’s gauging your expression, you can feel it, but again, everything’s spinning. you might pass out. what’s happening? who is this other girl he loves? 

“i’ve loved you for so long, but i thought there was never a chance that you could love me back. and then, there was that day. but, you’re you, the most gorgeous girl in all of gryffindor, and then there was me. you deserve so much better than me and how fucked up i am. so i left you alone. i thought it was right.” he glances to the side, bringing his hands to his lap. this is not real. you’re not real. he was right. this was a dream, and any minute this floaty feeling will stop and you won’t feel like you can’t feel your body and you’ll wake up hear your alarm and class will start it’s not real it’s not real it’s not real. 

but your hand reaches out to his, shaking. and the next words that tumble out of your lips are: “y-you love me?” 

“how could i not?” a laugh slips from his mouth and those eyes–those beautiful, beautiful eyes–are back on you and you can’t swallow breathe think nothing but those eyes, those sweet eyes. 

your mouth hangs open. “but…” 

“i’m sorry, y/n. and i don’t know if it’s too late, if you’ve found someone better, but i couldn’t ever leave you thinking that i don’t love you back. anyone who didn’t is a fool. an utter fool.” remus scratches at his jaw, lips pursed. “sorry. i just had to say it.” 

“you love me,” you repeat, looking at him. “you love me?” 

“i always have and i always will. loving you is a part of me, dove, the best part of me there’s ever been.” he sucks in a breath, brings your hand to his lips. when he speaks, you can feel the vibrations of his voice on your skin. “i love you so much.” 

you don’t even realize you’re crying until a tear splashes onto his cheek. you move to touch it, leaning closer to his face as your finger smooths the tear out onto his pretty skin. and then–then, oh, god, you’re so close to him. his breath is so warm. he smells so, so good. 

“can i kiss you, dove?” he asks so softly that you almost don’t hear him–you’re not even sure you do, it might just be instinct that pushes your lips together. something written into your body from birth. you were meant to be his, he yours. 

and merlin, he tastes better than you ever could have imagined. 

remus. your remus. 

a smile spreads across your lips after your next kiss, slow and so, overwhelmingly perfect. he pecks your teeth, your nose. 

“remus,” you say, but a small giggle escapes you before you can finish your sentence. this is surreal. what’s happening right now? are we sure this isn’t a dream? “what are we doing?” 

“kissing, dovey,” he answers with another kiss. “and, maybe, if you wanted, i could be yours?” 

“you’ve always been mine, rem,” you respond solemnly, and he tugs you down next to him, pulling your body under the covers so you’re flush next to him. “only now i can kiss you.” 

his palms come up to your cheeks, one to your hair, and again, the two of you connect–by your lips, sure, but also by you. you’ve connected, there’s no breaking it now. 

“and all of that you were saying?” you pull back every so slightly to look at him, to know him. “you are the most perfect soul i could ever ask for. i want you to tell me every time you feel like you don’t deserve me, because that’s just untrue. you deserve everything and more, and you are so perfect for me, i can’t even fathom how you exist.” 

at that, he pulls you back into him, plants and plants and plants his lips on your face. “there’s no part of me that doesn’t love you, dove. my heart, my mouth, my soul. all of me.” 

and when you’re too tired to kiss any longer, if that concept even exists, you fall asleep leg between his, nose pressed into crease between his neck and jaw, arms around each other, intertwined with him for the night–though, in a way, you always have been. and you always will be. 

masterlist

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[paulmescalsbiceps]

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆, 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 ˚ ⋆｡˚ Roommate!James x Reader.        

Synopsis: a part two to slim pickins in which James and Reader finally decide to unpack the tension between them                                      wc: 1.6k warnings: mentions of drinking, slight angst

Friday nights were usually reserved as time for yourself. Whether it be staying in and eating junk while watching your favourite show or spending a night out with your friends, it was the one night a week you were able to be completely in your zone.

James knew this and often spent the night out when you were in, or stayed out late when you needed the house to yourself. You had a mutual deal with each other that as roommate’s you would respect each other's desire for time for yourself. 

This friday evening however, was Remus birthday. You liked James' friends, especially Remus and Sirius. They always brought out the best in each other regardless of how chaotic it could become. You saw them from time to time when they’d come round to your shared apartment to have a few afternoon drinks with James and they never forced you into unpleasant conversations. 

James sat on the edge of your bed practically begging you to come with him. “Please, please, pleaseeee.” He pulled out that last please to emphasise how desperate he really was. “I love them, they're my best friends.” He turned to you, eyes filled with earnestness. “But I can’t deal with the flirting, they look like they want to eat eachother but never do anything about it.”

You almost scoff at his words. James, who had been teasing you relentlessly for months on end, making you blush and sputter simply by just looking at you, was complaining about someone not making a move. Ironic. You felt a little guilty for also not coming forth with your crush. But other than the flirting and occasional possessiveness, you had no proof James really liked you. Much more certain he just likes to see the way you hide your face in your hands when he calls you sweet names.

“James, I’m not ready at all, my hair hasn’t been washed since like Tuesday and half my clothes are in the wash.” You pull at your hair to show James just how bad you think it is. Instead of just observing like a normal person, James leans down and shoves his face in your locs. Inhaling deeply he sniffs at your hair before pulling back with a satisfied expression. “Smells good to me, Lovey”.

He was always sending you mixed signals. One minute he’s comforting you after a bad date and offering to make you breakfast, the next he’s on a date of his own. Maybe that was just his love language? Did he go around sniffing everyone’s hair? Either way the bond you had was not worth the risk of attempting anything, regardless of how badly you wanted to kiss his pretty blushed lips.

“Ok, Ok, if you stop sniffing my hair I’ll go.” You fall for James charm, “Who's going to be there?” His face lights up at your words. “Sirius and a few of Remus’s friends, I’ll stay with you the whole time if you need me too” he smirks before rolling sideways off your bed, leaving to get ready in his room.

—————————————————————————

Arriving at the pub you feel totally out of place already, James' arm is wrapped around your waist guiding you to a booth in the corner. He greets the table, introducing you. “This is my roommate, I bought her along if you don’t mind.”

“Always good to see you, works good?” Sirius asks, sitting so close to Remus he’s practically on his lap. Remus, whose face is bright red, politely greets you with a soft smile and small wave of acknowledgement.

Sliding into the empty space in the booth James scoots close to your ear, voice so close as he whispers “See what I mean? They’re basically humping each other.” James' dirty words make you feel flushed all over, heart beating at even the mention of something remotely sexual said by his smooth deep voice so close in your ear.

He pulls back and switches his attention from you to the rest of the group. You lean back against the booth as you try to recover, slipping away from the conversation to stare at James profile. 

His beard has come through ever so slightly, stubble giving him a rugged look. Even like that, he looks as handsome as ever. March still brings in cold nights but James still wears a t-shirt, tight around his muscular biceps. Looking at him you feel warm. 

—————————————————————————

Drinks go down as the midnight nears closer and closer. You hold a small bowl of pretzels close to your body alone at the table as the rest of the crew has moved to the bar. James occasionally checks in on you, making sure you're okay and comfortable. You can feel your body growing tired, eyes feeling droopy either from the alcohol you've consumed or weeks worth of exhaustion finally catching up to you. 

Looking towards the bar you spot something that makes your heart drop. James leaned far over the bar counter making firm eye contact with the waitress in front of him. You instantly feel numb. James is a flirt with most people, even Sirius sometimes. But you felt deep down that his ongoing banter with you was real, not to just lead you on. At least you wanted to feel that. 

Tears form in your eyes but you're too embarrassed to let them fall. Especially in public. You consider just leaving on your own and letting James make his own way home when he's ready but it doesn’t feel safe enough, especially this late. Not wanting to make a scene you continue to nurse a glass of water and nibble on the remaining pretzel to distract yourself.

The group begins to make their way back to the table one by one, saying their goodbyes and taking their leave. James comes up beside you, taking your jacket and holding it out in front of your face. “Ready to go, love?”. You know he means it to be enduring, but it sounds like torture coming out from his mouth. 

Frustration fuels your body, grabbing your jacket and pulling it aggressively over your shoulders you politely say goodbye to a very drunk Sirius and Remus before making your way to the door. Not bothering to acknowledge James in the process. 

You can hear him faintly behind you quickly say bye, before jogging behind you calling your name. “Wait up.” You pause, letting James catch up. “Are you okay, did I do something wrong?” His face is full of concern. It makes you feel guilty. You don't own James, he's allowed to flirt with other girls regardless of how sick that thought makes you feel.

“Just really tired James.” You choose not to bring up how you're really feeling, it's too late to properly process your emotions, let alone make James try to understand. The walk home feels a little awkward, walking side by side you choose not to acknowledge each other until you’ve entered the apartment.

Moving to the couch to take your shoes off, James follows you crouching in front of you. Soft hazel eyes meet yours, looking up at you. He looks like a deer, so innocent and docile. “Love, I just want to know why you're upset, did I do something?.” You're beginning to regret even going out tonight, confession heavy on your chest you breath out. 

“I’m just really tired.” you explain, trying your best to excuse your outburst.

“No.” James' warm hands dwarf your own as he grips them tight in his palm, brushing his thumb against the side of your own. “I want you to really tell me what's wrong.” His voice sounds so small, like a child. You can see the guilt eating up at him as you study his face.

“I just got really jealous.” You breathe out. “Of what.” James' expression remains the same, waiting for you to spell out exactly why you feel this way. “I kinda thought you liked me because you flirt with me all the time, and then I saw you tonight with that girl and I just-” Searching James face to gauge his reaction before continuing. “Felt really angry.”

“With me?” He asks not moving from his position crouched on the floor. Your chest feels so tight. “Yeah, and myself.” James pulls his body upwards and sits next to you on the couch. He seems shyer than usual, eyes looking into his lap, hand still fiddling with your own. “I think I was just talking to her to distract myself, from you. You're so insanely beautiful and kind and just everything I could want in a partner I just don’t want to scare you off.” 

Your eyes widen at his confession, heart pounding as he looks up again, gazing into your eyes. “I can come on pretty strong and I honestly didn’t think you would ever like me.” 

“Of course I like you Jam-”. He cuts you off before you can finish talking. “YOU LIKE ME?” He all but shouts. You giggle at his energy, playing with the hem of your dress to calm yourself enough to speak again. 

“You didn't get that from my tantrum earlier?”. James pulls your body closer, face barely an inch from his. “You were just being possessive, nothing wrong with that.” James grins down at you. You can feel the heat from his breath on your face. “Can I kiss you?” He breathes out, voice so soft. Pulling his lips to yours, you submerge yourself in the kiss. His lips move skillfully against your own before pulling back. 

James keeps you close resting his forehead against your own, smiling a smug grin. “Should've done that a lot sooner.” He joked. You drawl back, attempting to stand up from the couch, laughing along with him. “Shut up.” He grabs at your hips pinning you back down, crashing his lips into yours. Yeah, you might be there for a while.

[missmoonfrost]

McGonagall's no-sleeping policy - a wolfstar microfic

@wolfstarmicrofic - November 20: Transfiguration Classroom - Words: 607

“You need to eat,” Sirius growls through gritted teeth.

“I am eating”, Remus snaps back, stirring his scrambled eggs around on his plate with one hand and leaning his head heavily in the other.

“If you are too tired to eat you should have stayed in bed.”

“I said, I am eating!”

Sirius forces himself to take a deep breath. He doesn’t want to fight with Remus. Especially not the day after a moon night. But the wanker is being impossible.

They sit in stubborn silence until they have to leave for class. Remus may have put a few bites in his mouth, but his plate can still be considered full when he pulls himself up to standing with a lot more grunting and hissing than Sirius thinks is acceptable for someone set on taking on a full school day.

They take their seats in the Transfigurations classroom, Sirius and James on either side of Remus.

There are a few minutes before class starts and Remus lays his head down on the table in front of him and closes his eyes.

“I don’t know how Madam Pomfrey let you out”, Sirius grumbles.

“I’m fine.” Remus mumbles without opening his eyes. “Besides, there are exams coming up soon.”

When Professor McGonagall walks in, Remus immediately sits up straight. Sirius doesn’t miss the surprised and slightly disapproving glance she shoots their way, though. Surely, she too thinks he should be in bed.

Todays lesson is fur, scales and feathers. Before Professor McGonagall has got the snake out, the she intends to transform into a swan, they hear Remus stomach rumble.

James sticks him a piece of toast he apparently brought from breakfast. Sirius wishes he had thought of that.

“No,” Remus whispers, “you know McGonagall has a strict no-eating policy.”

James rolls his eyes. Remus' stomach rumbles again. He sighs and accepts the toast. As he takes a small bite McGonagall turns towards them and they all freeze. With a minuscule press of the lips, she pointedly looks the other away and continues her lecture.

Sirius has seldom been so thankful to a teacher. He should be thankful to James too, he supposes, who thought of bringing not only the toast but apparently a boiled egg and two slices of bacon too. He is thankful. It’s just that Remus would have never accepted it from Sirius that stings. Why can’t Remus see how much he cares?

Remus as discreetly as he can licks the crumbs off his fingers and wipes his mouth. Sirius tries to pay attention to how the wand movements can affect the thickness of the fur and not think about how much he and Remus have argued lately. If it’s not Remus being absurd in his refusal to accept help it is him insisting Sirius do something boringly wise and sensible. As Sirius watches the snake turn white and sprout a beautiful plumage he gets hit by a clichéd sudden realisation. Those arguments can just as easily be called Sirius refusing help and Sirius wanting Remus to do something he knew is sensible but still for some reason doesn’t want to. Thinking about it that way, Remus seems to care a great deal, after all.

A sudden thud on Sirius' shoulder jolts him. Remus' head. He smiles as he sees Remus' face relaxed in sleep and carefully brings an arm around his back to hold him steady. He bets McGonagall would even allow sleeping in her classroom on this one occasion. If not, Sirius is fully prepared to use whatever charm or threats or bargains he can to not have to wake him up just yet.

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER SIX

06 : POTIONEER

CHPT. SUM. : Orion is furious at Sirius' sorting and demands he be resorted bringing you and Regulus with him to Hogwarts where you catch a glimpse of Remus and finally remember who Damcoles Belby is. 

LENGTH : 13.1k

TAGS : domestic fluff ; mother-son moment between Sirius and reader ; Regulus is a precious baby ; Orion is a dickhead and a big baby ; fluff ; angst ; hurt/comfort ; Marauders becoming friends ; Damocles and Ruth are couple goals ; reader gets revenge for our baby.

TRIGGER WARNINGS : child abuse ; claustraphobia 

← PREV. 05 : SIRIUS: FIRST DAY | SERIES M.LIST

3rd September 1971

The day before had gone relatively well. Sirius and the other first years in his classes were still fascinated by the castle and its magic so the tour and introductory first lessons in the afternoon went smoothly. The first years were adjusting well. 

Today will be Sirius’ first full day of lessons and, although it’s daunting, his demeanour is exuberant. Knowing that he will be sharing classes with his new group of friends made him all the more excited. The previous night was spent mostly chatting with his dorm mates, being in bed by 10 pm but not sleeping until past midnight. It meant that he was down for breakfast later than what was ideal and to avoid worrying about rushing back to get ready in his dorm, Sirius made sure to get dressed and brought his book bag to breakfast. This was entirely Remus’ idea, which the boys were incredibly thankful to him for suggesting. The soft-spoken brunette was beginning to build a reputation for having a head full of sensible ideas, making up for what the rest of the group lacked. 

Sirius was just about to finish his plateful and reach for a serving of freshly cut fruit when a shadow appeared over him. It was Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts.  

“Can I help you?” Sirius asks, managing to quell his alarm and brace himself for what may come. Surely he wasn’t in trouble for anything already — there couldn’t possibly be anything he could be guilty of. James, Peter, and Remus looked up in curiosity, also having the same unanswered questions on their faces, silently seeking some sort of response to calm their startled nerves. 

“You’re needed at the Headmaster’s office,” Filch announces, his eyes gleaming with amusement at the sight of the group’s unanimous surprise and dread, although his expression remains largely dull and unimpressed. 

“…just me?” Sirius dreaded to ask. 

“Just you,”

“Why?” Sirius’ demand visibly irritates Filch but he answers nonetheless, happy to have done so when he’s rewarded with Sirius’ pale and ghostly expression — an explicit look of horror.

“Your father is here,” the edges of Filch’s lips seem to twitch but ultimately remain in a straight line, neither smirking nor frowning, “shouldn’t keep ‘im waitin’ now,” James was immediately vocal in his protests. He could tell that Sirius was petrified at the thought of his father and immediately assembled the pieces Sirius was willing to divulge the night before on his home life — his mother was supportive but his father was not. James’ bold protectiveness over Sirius was heartwarming, he never had anybody stand up for him against his father much like this. Primarily because not many were a witness to it and Sirius would like to keep it that way as much as possible. His mother protects him now but this was only recently. Before that, Sirius made sure to keep Regulus out of trouble, vowing to protect his little brother and avoid trouble for his sake alone. James’ display was refreshing and touched his heart. And it was what gave Sirius the strength to willingly go with Filch. 

Despite the bubbling dread in his stomach, Sirius keeps his chin high as he’s escorted to Dumbledore’s office. Although fearful at first, the prospect of facing his father at Hogwarts made Sirius more angry than anything else. Yes, he was shocked and, in that shock, terrified,  but for his father to behave so impudently by visiting Hogwarts was highly hypocritical when the man always demeaned Sirius and punished him whenever he behaved or spoke in a disorderly way. Their encounter was surely going to be an explosive one. 

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Orion was losing his patience. It wasn’t like him to act so brazenly but the current oddness of his wife had been provoking his displeasure. He’s been feeling the unpleasant bubbling for an entire month and endured it all. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that Sirius’ Gryffindor sorting finally made him blow up and throw about the house’s interior in a blind rage. Atop that, Orion had been even more disgraced but in his own home this time; his wife had ordered their filthy, useless house elf to move all her belongings into a spare bedroom. 

They no longer shared a bed. 

Imagine his surprise when, the following morning, he was greeted by his wife and son at the fireplace, ready to floo to Hogsmeade and journey to Hogwarts. 

“Regulus and I will be having breakfast at the Three Broomsticks,” you announced firmly, reminding him of the early hour. He had the open invitation to join you both but Orion refused, demanding that the matter with Sirius was urgent and that there wasn’t any need for breakfast. But he should have listened to his wife. When he charged up to Hogwarts ahead and was greeted by Dumbledore, the wistful headmaster had him wait around until he was finished with his breakfast before Sirius was finally called for, requesting that the Squib caretaker do the retrieving. Now, Orion sat in the office with an empty stomach and only his anger fuelling him. 

“I hope that your boy has had the time to eat his breakfast as well,” Orion looks at the headmaster, stopping his impatient foot tapping when he notices the mysterious gleam in the elderly wizard’s eyes, “we wouldn’t want him going to class with an empty stomach,” 

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Orion was an idiot. You had an idiot for a husband. The thought made you roll your eyes and scoff irritably. Men were so pigheaded sometimes, do they even realise how annoying they can be? 

Observing Regulus as he wiped the crumbs off his mouth with a napkin was all you needed to ease your mounting irritation, however. Your sons won’t grow up unpleasantly like that; you know that your boys will be true gentlemen, naturally, with their own personal idiosyncrasies but, unlike your foolish husband, they’ll be chivalrous, well-mannered and receptive, you’ll see to that personally. Orion won’t have any influence over them. This is your new life’s mission now. 

“I’m all done now, Mother,” Regulus announces with a somewhat sheepish smile as you grin with amusement against the lip of your teacup. He knows he didn’t pay the best attention to his etiquette when devouring his plate of breakfast at The Three Broomsticks but you don’t seem to mind so maybe he’ll get away with it… Little did he know that you found him incredibly adorable and enjoyed the way he appeared more like a child his age for once. 

“That’s good, dear,” your calm demeanour and slow actions makes slight panic flash in Regulus’ eyes. He’s concerned at the lack of action, the passing of time and the idea that he won’t be there when his father and brother meet, “we will keep our promise, Regulus, I assure you,” his endearing worry is met with your kind smile, “I’m sure Sirius is enjoying his breakfast right now too,” the growing smirk on your lips begins to reflect on your youngest, who immediately catches onto your cheekiness. 

“I-I suppose father will be going without any breakfast then…” Regulus comments, taking a sip of his apple juice. 

“Darling, who are we to get in the way of your father’s demands? He was ever so insistent,” an amused giggle passes between the two of you and Regulus is finally able to relax a bit. He makes a mental note to write about your uncharacteristic mischief to Sirius in an upcoming letter. He had been meaning to write a letter congratulating Sirius on his sorting but thought it better to voice in person instead after you invited him to Hogwarts under Orion’s furious insistence.

You took some minutes to enjoy the rest of your breakfast before announcing your departure. 

“Come again soon, Mrs Black! Both you and your son are always welcome,” Madam Rosmerta shouts warmly as she waves you and Regulus off with the beer mug she had been polishing. 

“Of course, Madam Rosmerta. Until then, take care!” you call back, smiling happily at the woman. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for arriving at Hogwarts castle without a guide ready to escort you from the grand entrance to the Headmaster’s office. It was pure luck that you were spotted by one of your favourite characters and immediately taken to your destination. 

“The headmaster speculated you’d be arriving here,” McGonagall spoke stiffly but warmly in her distinctive Scottish intonation. Following a brief introduction of all parties, she finally begins to lead you and Regulus to the Headmaster’s office. She looked much younger than she did in the films, yet to be worn down by the mischief the marauders cause only to be succeeded by the Weasley twins, coming to wreak the same havoc and closely followed by the golden trio. It was nice to see her modelling such a reliable and tenacious character before Dumbledore manipulates her into becoming hesitant and unreliable, inconstant with her trustworthiness amongst the students. This prestigious school deserved a headmaster who cared for their pupils equally, unswayed by bias – someone fair and trustworthy, not just powerful. In your eyes, that was McGonagall. And you were going to put her in that position yourself. 

“I appreciate that, and I appreciate you coming to collect us,” you voice politely, offering a smile that she appeared taken aback by. She’s been influenced by the rumours as well. Walburga’s magisterial ways and elitism precede her. It was annoying. But, you’ll admit that it’s amusing to see the surprise on people’s faces when you distinguish all those claims personally. Not only are you making a new name for yourself but you also have the satisfaction of tarnishing the bitch in your head’s reputation. That was more fulfilling than anything.     

“It is only the correct thing to do,” 

“Are things always that black and white?” Minerva doesn’t know how to answer your sudden, cryptic comment and you have the slight mind to apologise for your loose lips. Not only was the deputy headmistress caught off guard by the question but she was dumbstruck by the question coming from you, the woman who openly expresses her abhor of muggle borns and blood ‘traitors’ — you and your bloodline were the most ‘black-and-white’ people in wizarding society. To say that McGonagall was speechless was an understatement. To her relief, you breeze past the comment entirely, “I apologise for my husband’s brash behaviour, it’s truly insufferable how audacious he is, sometimes,”  

Clearing her throat, McGonagall goes for the professional response, although she was highly tempted to agree with you, “all parents have a right to have a say in their children’s education,” 

“This goes beyond mere education, professor,” you look into her eyes and are met with agreement, “Surely, you can agree that the matter is useless kicking up such a fuss over and that my husband is entirely wrong. In this matter, I am right in saying he is being an idiot by publicly throwing a tantrum,” you tut in displeasure, “The humiliation of it all is almost unbearable,” at your side, you hear Regulus choke on his laughter and crack a smile, giving his small hand a light squeeze. Finally, McGonagall allows a smirk to stretch across her lips but before she can make any comment of agreement, you’ve already reached the gargoyle entrance to the Headmaster’s office.  

“The password is ‘Pear Drops’,” With a wave of her hand, the gargoyles reveal a spiralling staircase to the Headmaster’s office, “good luck,” she nods at you and you watch as her expression softens ever so slightly to face Regulus and bid him a soft goodbye, “hopefully, our next meeting will be a more pleasant one, down by the great hall on your first year,” Regulus smiles and nods, waving her goodbye. She offers a smile to both of you and turns with a swift swish of her thick, draping robes. McGonagall never expected you to be so warm and pleasant —it’s easy to misjudge the character of a person simply from third-party accounts and retellings. She’ll have to rethink her own prejudices and biases moving forward.  

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Sirius hadn’t arrived yet. As soon as you sat down, Orion was already gritting his teeth, the squareness of his jaw making his frustrations obvious. 

“I told you so,” you voice blankly and with an unamused face to match. Orion didn’t say a word — he couldn’t. He was already facing the consequences of his impatience as his stomach tried to eat itself from hunger. Dumbledore raises a questioning brow at the interaction but doesn’t say anything. Instead, the headmaster turns to Regulus with a kind smile and offers him the latest muggle sweet he’s grown a recent taste for, the password to his office, Pear Drops. 

“Try some, my boy, I promise they’re a delight,” Regulus looks to you, silently asking for permission. 

You smile softly and nod, “Go right ahead dear but you’ve had a rather hearty breakfast, why don’t you save it for a special treat later on?” Regulus nods and reaches for a small handful of the sweets to pocket in the meantime, however, his small, pale hand is smacked away by Orion who hisses angrily through clenched teeth. 

“No son of mine dabbles in any muggle sweets — it’s unbecoming, Regulus!” 

It was thankful that Orion was already clenching his teeth when you slapped him across the face or else he would have bitten straight through his tongue at the force of your firm hand. 

“Touch my son again, and you’ll be falling from the tower without your wand, Orion,” you threaten through clenched teeth of your own as the man stares at you in wide-eyed shock, his expression reflected onto the Headmaster. 

The reddening hand mark on your husband’s pale cheek isn’t nearly enough to contain your rage. Your shoulders and hands shake from the barely contained wrath bubbling in your veins, you don’t even register how your palm was stinging from the slap as well. Rather than divorcing the stinking pile of shit you have for a husband, you’ll end up murdering him instead. Regulus cuddling up to your side was the only thing able to extinguish the violent rage shooting through your bloodstream but seeing the reddening of his small hand from Orion was quickly reigniting the fire within you. 

“You can’t just—” You don’t know what shameless words he planned on stitching together as a poor explanation of his actions but you were having none of it.

“Shut your mouth!” you hiss once more, eyes narrowing at him, “I said he could have some so he’s having some! How dare you publicly cause a commotion like this over Sirius’ sorting andhave the cheek to harm Regulus on top of that! And over muggle sweets?! Have some decorum, Orion! How embarrassing!” Orion appears to shrink in his seat as you lean over more and more with each word. You didn’t see it but Regulus no longer had tears lining the seams of his precious, silver eyes, instead, they were filled with glittering admiration and love at the sight of you defending him. If only Sirius could see their mother like this, he would no longer have any cause for worry about being away at Hogwarts while he stays home. 

“Ahem!” All heads turn to the entrance where Sirius stares on at the scene, wide-eyed and with a delinquent smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. It isn’t until his eyes meet his father’s infuriated ones that Sirius finds the will to conceal his satisfaction. What he had just witnessed was admirable and a laugh desperately tried to push past his lips but he resisted; he was still on the chopping block for his father to rip apart. Although, knowing that you’re also here, eases Sirius’ worries.  

“Sirius,” you breathe with a smile, your expression immediately warming up at the sight of your firstborn. It hasn’t even been a full three days since you’ve last seen him but the effects of missing him were substantial enough that you were able to easily decompress from your heated exchange with Orion. 

“Get over here, boy,” Orion seethes through clenched teeth, his attention averted. Knowing that his son stood before him as a proud Gryffindor and without an ounce of regret for the shame he has befallen their family makes the patriarch clench his fist so hard that his knuckles turn a paper-white. Sirius doesn’t move, he doesn’t even spare him a glance and when Orion follows his son’s gaze, he’s surprised to note that his gaze is fixed on his mother. 

“Feel free to take any available seat,” Dumbledore offers kindly, observing the scene with a curious glint in his eyes. 

“Please come and sit with your brother and me, dear,” you barely finish your words before Sirius moves across the Headmaster’s office to sit beside Regulus, who has promptly pulled away from you to admire his brother. 

“Thank you for arriving so promptly, Sirius,” Dumbledore begins, eyeing the substantial gap between the two parents before settling his twinkling gaze over the first year, “I hope your breakfast wasn’t interrupted too terribly by the sudden meeting,”

Sirius offers polite understanding over the disruption to his morning despite it only being the third day of school. At the sight of Sirius’ clenching and unclenching fists, you can tell that seeing his father was an annoyance, however, you’re proud of his ability to school his expression. He’s already grown up so much…

Giving a slow nod, Dumbledore directs everyone’s attention to Orion, who was barely holding himself together at the unnecessary —in his eyes only — exchange of pleasantries, “Your father has some troubles over your sorting,”

Sirius pays his father no mind as the pathetic man slams his hardened fist against Dumbledore’s wooden desk, “I DEMAND THAT THE SORTING BE REDONE! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” the frightening volume of your reprehensible husband’s words makes Regulus’ shoulders shake but you and Sirius were there for him. Flanked on either side of the youngest, you were able to bring Regulus into your side for a comforting sideways embrace while Sirius reached over to console his brother by threading their fingers together and clasping his hand tightly. Regulus immediately begins to calm down and smiles to himself at the warm feeling of protection surrounding him. 

“…It cannot be done, Mr Black,” Dumbledore states matter-of-factly in a serene voice that bodes no fear for the wrath of your husband. 

“EXCUSE ME?! CLEARLY THIS WAS A MISTAKE—”

“The sorting hat makes no mistakes,” Dumbledore was so firm in his statement, that Orion was left stammering with disbelief. It makes you smirk with a sort of evil satisfaction. What will he say next? 

“That’s impossible! For that tattered old thing to have made no mistakes whatsoever?!” Orion finally has the decency to lower his voice though, not by much. 

“You are free to doubt the sorting hat as you wish Mr Black but it is indisputable and Sirius will not be resorted,”

“Of course not!” you pipe up, pinning your husband with a harsh glare, “For the sake of your own ego and pride, Orion, how could you demand such a thing? This whole fiasco is far more embarrassing than our son being sorted into the house of bravery and courage. Get over yourself. Our son will miss his lesson at this rate. I apologise, headmaster, for my husband’s shameful behaviour, I assure you that my son will behave far more gracefully,” turning away from your staggering husband and the amused headmaster, you look at Sirius with pride. Leaning over Regulus to press a kiss onto his older brother’s forehead he’s able to hear your tender whisper of pride, “I’m so proud of you, darling,”

You leave a humiliated, red-faced Orion to argue with Dumbledore, who handles the overgrown baby’s temper tantrum with grace. It was much appreciated and you were willing to applaud the old wizard if it weren’t for your existing hatred and secret plot to rid him of his position as headmaster. You’ve led Sirius and Regulus to stand quite a distance away from the two so that you could share a private moment, the attention mainly pointed towards your grinning firstborn. 

“Have you received the gift I sent you?” you ask in a whisper as you hold Sirius in a loving embrace, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he presses his nose into your loose hair — you smell like a mixture of milky vanilla, calming lavender, fruity current and flowery jasmine, it’s not like any fragrance he’s ever smelled on you but he’s grown to find comfort in it. He nods and you silently ask for the pin’s whereabouts. 

Sirius reaches into the breast pocket of his school robes, now embellished with the colours of Gryffindor, daring red and enchanting gold. He brings up his fist and unfurls his fingers to reveal the unworn pin. From the side, Regulus gasps at the beauty of such a small and intricate accessory. Smiling, you read off the personal message you engraved on the back before fastening the pin onto his grey cardigan, “A shield to protect my brave, daring and noble son,” you lean back and give him a once over. Sirius can see the visible lining of tears that gather at the edges of your waterline and his breath stills — it was one thing to read of your happiness and pride for his accomplishment at being sorted into Gryffindor but it was another thing entirely to hear the words from you firsthand and to watch as happy tears blur your vision. Sirius has never seen his mother be so happy and proud that she begins to tear up, Regulus hasn’t either and both stare at you in wonderment. Sirius feels as though he would begin to cry himself but refrains from doing so when Regulus looks at him with a bright grin and glimmering eyes of admiration. Regulus was proud and happy for him too…  

Reaching forward, you pat down the lapels of Sirius’ robes, “goodness, you look so handsome in your school robes,” you share a breathless laugh with your bashful, first-year son before bringing him into another embrace. This one feels tighter, “are you truly my son? I can’t believe it!”

“Of course, I’m your son,” Sirius pouts into your shoulder, trying to counteract his glowing grin, somehow, but it’s no use; the urge to smile from the acceptance and the happiness was too overpowering. 

“This feels like a dream…” you whisper into the air and Sirius is brought back to the time he witnessed the affectionate exchange between his mother and younger brother at the home library doorway. He remembers feeling his heart ache and clench before finally shattering into painfully sharp pieces, engulfed by spite and jealousy. But now… you were saying the same words to him…

“…a dream come true?” Sirius asks so softly and with much insecurity, you can’t help but squeeze him tighter. 

“Yes!” you’re giddy with happiness and it’s infectious, even onto Regulus who was momentarily saddened at his older brother’s innocent wants and endurance, silently suffering from that fateful day at the Library, where everything had changed. While Regulus was floating on air from the merriment, his confident, protective and loving older brother was dealt a painful blow right to the heart. He wants to reach out and hug him tight and apologise for not noticing sooner.

“A dream come true, it’s just that.” you laugh again, “I still can’t believe it — you’re my son,” Sirius smiles as you cup his cherubic face with your gentle, loving hands. He’s stuck between jumping for joy and doing a happy dance but settles for shyly avoiding your gaze and smiling down at your wrists, where he witnesses your thumbs lovingly caressing his cheekbones in his periphery. 

“I’m your son…”

“You’re my son…” you kiss his cheek and pull away. Regulus had been inching closer and closer throughout your interaction and you could practically taste his eagerness in the air, wanting to pull his older brother into a warm embrace, himself.

Happily, you allow the two to share a moment and they don’t waste any time holding one another tightly. “I can’t believe you’re a Gryffindor, Siri! Your pin looks so beautiful. Mother did a really good job with it. I wonder where she got it made and how… I hope I get one too…” Sirius, knowing the elation the pin had given him when he had first received it and even more when he read the personalised message engraved on the back, didn’t want to deprive his brother of the same feeling, not a single bit. Looking over at you, he meets your eyes and is immediately assured by the smile dancing on your lips. 

“Of course, you’ll get a pin too, baby,” you seal the promise by pressing a kiss to the back of Regulus’ head, who spins around to face you so quickly, you fear he might have gotten whiplash but the smile on his face was enough assurance. 

“Really, Mother?”

“Really really,”

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Sirius returns to the great hall with enough time to spare. His Gryffindor pin is proudly displayed on the chest of his cardigan as he finishes breakfast with his group of friends. Upon his return, they ask him the obvious questions. 

“Is everything okay?

“What happened?”

“Are you alright?” 

“What was the meeting about?” 

Sirius could hardly answer anything from the flurry of overlapping voices and questions he was being bombarded with, other students were even beginning to look at him with curiosity after witnessing his departure with Filch. However, something in the distance catches his attention. The boys follow Sirius’s distracted gaze as soon as he turns away, not having answered a single query. At the open entrance of the great hall, they witness Orion’s scowling face pass swiftly, barely casting a glance at Sirius. He can’t believe his father is being so childish but it was satisfying to watch and listen to his mother treat him like a child too — a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Behind him, Regulus appears at your side, walking at a more leisurely pace. You and his little brother take a moment to lock eyes with him from the great hall entrance. Both of you smile and give him a small wave, leaving unhurriedly when he returns the gesture. But not before you blow him a kiss with a devious smile on your lips. 

Despite the tender moment you shared in Dumbledore’s office, of course, you would still want to embarrass him in front of his friends! Sirius wasn’t mad though — it was quite reassuring to see a mischievous side to his mother.

“Th-that’s your mum?” Peter squeaks nervously. He’s heard of the ancient and noble Black family before. And he’s heard a lot about the notoriously disdainful patriarch and matriarch, Orion and Walburga Black so your uncharacteristic actions make him flounder, “I-I didn’t know your mother was capable of smiling like that…” 

“Me neither,” Sirius replies with a grin, but I’m glad I know now. 

“She’s pretty,” James comments, almost gushing as Remus nods along demurely, blushing down into his morning tea. 

“Why did she look at me like that?…” Remus whispers against the lip of his teacup. 

“What was that?” Sirius asks with a curious tilt of his head. He didn’t quite manage to catch what Remus had said but his muttering was enough to pique his interest. In his embarrassment and distracted thoughts from when you had blown him a kiss, Sirius failed to notice the way your gaze lingered on Remus, who noticed an unknown glint come to life in your eyes. “Remus?”

“—N-nothing! It was nothing… nevermind,”

4th September 1971

You can’t get over how adorable the marauders look as first years. They might as well be little babies, their cheeks still possess some youthful plumpness and they look ready to grow into their school robes with much more fullness. However, as adorable as you found them to be, you have much more important and urgent matters that need tending to. You can’t believe how you’d forgotten such an important detail until now but seeing Remus was what you needed for the pieces to finally fit together. 

Damocles Belby. Inventor of the Wolfsbane potion in the 1990s. You aren’t sure about the exact year but it definitely wasn’t invented while Remus was in Hogwarts. That was why you were drawn to his quaint potions shop and why his name has been lingering in the back of your mind since that day. 

Regulus didn’t have any classes with Peony today as it was Saturday and you weren’t entirely comfortable with leaving him alone as Orion was out on business. You didn’t hear of his departure personally, he had Kreacher come and notify you in his stead. He’s still being an overgrown baby about what happened in Hogwarts. 

Dumbledore continued to refuse on the matter of Sirius’ re-sorting and firmly refused all attempts of bribery on your husband’s part. It was an unreasonable request and you were all sent out soon after so that Sirius could finish his breakfast and attend his lessons on time. Admittedly, it was better to receive the news from Kreacher rather than Orion. Despite the action being petty and out of anger, you were more than happy with the arrangement and you’ll be sure to return the gesture – whenever you want to relay a message to him, you’ll ask Kreacher for his assistance too. 

Your droopy house elf sees the mischief in your eyes and immediately notices the lack of offence to Orion’s backhanded pettiness when he hiccuped through the message he was sent to deliver. His mistress has changed so much… though he cannot argue that most of the change was pleasant. 

“I hope you’ll forgive me for arranging an outing so suddenly like this,” you sheepishly apologise, helping Regulus with his suspenders before he pulls his cardigan over his neatly pressed shirt. 

“It’s okay, Mother,” he flashes you a precious grin, “I enjoy spending time with you like this,”

It was hard to resist his sweet words and you’re immediately pulling him into an embrace, pressing light kisses onto his face. Regulus flushes a bright pink when you squeal about how ‘sweet’ and ‘precious’ and ‘charming’ he was. You’ve become so much more affectionate and, even though it’s not an unpleasant change, Regulus still finds it hard to adapt to. However, he can’t say he wants to forget or take for granted the feeling of elation and warmth that floods his chest whenever you act lovingly — he’s always dreamed of receiving affection from his mother like this. 

“Please never grow up my darling,” you sigh, already knowing the truth as you lead him to the fireplace where you’ll floo to Diagon Alley together, “but I suppose you’ll always be my little boy, so growing up won’t be too bad,” Regulus doesn’t openly admit that he wouldn’t mind being the way he is forever so long as you continue being such a wonderful mother. 

“Where will we be going, Mother?” Regulus looks up at you with curious eyes upon exiting the fireplace soot-free. He’s already reaching for your hand so you don’t lose each other in the crowds. 

“We’ll be visiting Mr Belby,” you smile fondly at the grin Regulus flashes you. He surely remembers the lovely couple owning the potion shop from when you went first-year shopping for Sirius. 

“I know where that is,” he pipes up when you look around curiously, trying to map out your journey. 

“Oh? Then do you mind leading me the way there, darling?”

“Of course, Mother, this way,” he steps forward and begins leading you along the cobblestone paths. Belby’s Potions and Ingredients was quite reserved compared to the other shops, which made it hard to distinguish, especially when it’s the weekend and more people are out and about.

“You’re so clever, thank you, darling,” you press a kiss onto the crown of Regulus’ head when he leads you beneath the hanging sign of the shop. 

Regulus grins and his chest puffs out ever so slightly, “you’re welcome, Mother,”

Observing the shop in front of you, your brows furrow with worry, “why does it look closed?” despite the observation, you knock on the door while squinting through the empty shop windows. Their sign states they’re open from Monday to Friday between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm. “They should still be open, it’s only 11 o’clock in the morning…” you knock again with more insistence and shout through the door, worried for the couple. Regulus observes your panic with anxious eyes and begins to feel the distress melting into his thoughts and feelings. The Belby couple were lovely, they were good people that no misfortune should ever try to pollute so he dreads to think they’re in any trouble. Your knocks sound as if you were determined to break their door down just to get inside, you were tempted to cast ‘alohamora’ but there would be no use for that, you’ll be arrested for trying to commit ‘breaking and entering’ in broad daylight.  

It wasn’t until Damocles himself seemingly appeared out of nowhere, looking dishevelled and sleep-deprived that you finally stopped knocking, “Madam Black,” Damocles acknowledges as soon as he opens the door to you and Regulus, “I’m afraid we’re closed for today,” to emphasise his point, he presses the closed sign onto the window of his shop’s door.

“Mr Belby, I apologise for being so demanding but this is urgent,” you try to argue, feeling the distant press of Regulus against your legs, his arms circling your waist for comfort. He doesn’t know what’s happening but to see his mother and the kind Mr Belby interact in such a state of distress made him nervous. This was so opposite to their first interaction at the shop. 

“I-I’m afraid I have far more urgent matters to attend to as of this moment,” he reasons breathlessly, trying to close the door shut but you’re determined. Your mind has been set — not only were you going to help Sirius and Regulus but you were going to be there for Remus too. 

“I insist that what I have to say to you is very important as well!”

Damocles incessantly shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line as his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping his shop’s door handle, “my dearest Ruth is my top priority right now and she’s terribly sick at the moment, please — I’m sure this can wait!” with that, he slams the door shut, causing you and Regulus to flinch at the harsh sound. You didn’t want to hold off on the situation but you know when a line is drawn and Damocles’ insistent refusal of your entry was more than enough to tell you to back away. 

His behaviour was rather odd, however. When you first met the man and his wife, they were beyond lovely. Both were incredibly welcoming and warm, looking down at Regulus, you see the confusion in his clear, steel-grey eyes also. 

“Let's try again on Monday, darling,” Regulus nods at your suggestion. His small brows were furrowed with concern and he seemed hesitant to look away from you despite the smile of reassurance you give him. It warmed your heart seeing how troubled he was over your predicament with Mr Belby; you couldn’t resist kissing away the wrinkle between his brows, “don’t worry, my dear, patience is key when it comes to things like this,” 

Giving one last lingering glance at Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, you redirect Regulus to Gringotts. It rose higher than any of the other buildings in Diagon Alley so it was relatively easy to spot and head towards. Before heading home for the day, you had one more errand to take care of. 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Filgus was easy to spot, he was the goblin you immediately walked to upon entering the opulent establishment. His sharp, angular features help hold up a monocle over his right eye as a gold chain trails down to the breast pocket of his smart, black suit, though he wears no tie. His healthy head of silver hair is pushed back and tied into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. He looks much younger than his colleagues from the largely less wrinkled visage of his countenance, it was no wonder that entertained your previous request. 

“Madam Black,” Filgus smiles at you, content with your polite, formal greeting. He smiles at Regulus too, who mirrors the goblin greeting at your side, “How may I help you?” he smirks beneath his long and pointed nose. Past the reflections of his monocle, you catch a faint gleam in his eyes, though you can’t comprehend exactly what emotion stands behind it. Was it excitement? Curiosity? Something else entirely, perhaps… “Will you be requesting another commission for our services?” you smile, finally understanding the look in his black, black eyes. 

“Although I highly commend your metalsmith expertise, I am here for a different affair,“ your words pique Regulus’ interest and he begins to speculate whether you had the goblins make Sirius’ Gryffindor pin – it would be an incredible feat if you did, "I only hope to open two new vaults today,” your request eases Filgus’ posture and his action to lean back make you realise the full extent of his previous excitement. It almost makes you want to apologise for not meeting his expectations. 

The first time you had come to him for a commission request, he had been surprised and you suppose he had been able to conceal his delight well but now his disappointment was more obvious. It made you want to giggle but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him or any of the other goblins nearby so you kept your amusement to yourself. 

“That’s simple enough,”

“I want both vaults to have the same precautions and safeguards as the Black family vaults,” his quill stops momentarily as he makes a point of raising a brow at your specifications. A beat passes and he finishes off what he was writing. 

“Who will these vaults be for?”

“They will be for my sons. One for Sirius Orion Black the third,” you reach over to wrap your arm around Regulus’ small shoulders, “and the other for Regulus Arcturus Black,” 

“Unusual,” Filgus comments under his breath but makes his notes regardless of the uncommon application from the Black family matriarch herself. This was not tradition for ancient, noble wizarding families to create a separate vault entirely when they all simply shared one vault. The only reason for something like this to happen would be when someone was disowned by their family and are forced to start from a completely empty vault. Filgus looks up from the parchment he was writing on, only to meet eyes with Regulus who looks white as a ghost and frozen with fear. The sight makes the goblin chuckle under his breath and shakes his head subtly. Even if he wanted to, he had no words of comfort to offer the young wizard. 

“I want the vaults for my sons to be entirely separate from the Black family vaults — nowhere near it,”

“Consider it done. The keys and paperwork will be delivered to you soon enough,”

“Thank you very much, Filgus,” you nod with a smile, “and I assure you that I will be back to request another commission soon enough,” he smirks beneath his pointed nose and his black eyes seem to light up despite their soulless darkness. He says nothing more as you lead Regulus out of Gringotts for the journey home.  

Beside you, Regulus is filled with dread to the point that he feels sick. Getting a separate vault means only one thing and the realisation makes his eyes sting with globulous tears. Looking up at you, his mind flashes with all the happy memories you’ve shared with him and Sirius the past month or so — was that all just a lie? Were you such a good actor that you managed to babble that prideful speech to Sirius at Hogwarts on the spot? Did you always mean to disown them? But then why did you put so much effort into bonding with them like this? It’s too cruel…

“Darling!” you panic at the river of tears running down Regulus’ flushed cheeks. Stepping out of Gringotts, you were just about to ask Regulus if he’d fancy stopping by a sweet shop to bring something yummy home to indulge in and maybe get something for Kreacher too, only to be met by the pitiful image of your youngest sobbing and clinging onto the draping silhouette of your dress skirt. You sweep him up into your arms and move to a bench placed in a, somewhat, secluded location so that you can have a modicum of privacy. “Oh, sweetheart…” you coo and gently brush back his hair with your fingers, “please tell me what’s the matter so that I can help you feel better…” he mutters something incoherent under his breath and in between his hiccups but you ask him to repeat it as you couldn’t hear the first time.  

“Y-you’re going to disown me and Sirius…“ he sobs before throwing himself at your lap and crying into your skirt, “Please don’t disown us, we’ll be good, I promise!” you couldn’t take hearing his tearful cries any longer and you scoop him up again so you could hug him tightly as he wraps his arms over your shoulders to sob into your neck, his legs wrapping around your waist. 

‘Openly crying in public?! HOW DISGRACEFUL! LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO MY SONS YOU WRETCHED THING!’ Walburga screeches in your head but you’re quick to hush her up, completely ignoring her piggish squealing to focus on comforting Regulus. ‘THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TRAINED AND DISCIPLINED INTO HONOURABLE SONS BEFORE YOUR INFLUENCE BUT NOW IT’S COMPLETELY HOPELESS!’ She can rant and squeal and screech as much as she wants, you’re not responding to a single thing. Regulus was much more important right now. 

You sit there with him, softly shushing his sobs and patting his back comfortingly as he cries and cries until his eyes run dry. In his panic and distress, Regulus wasn’t in the right headspace to listen to any consoling words you had to say so you waited. It wasn’t until the neckline of your black dress was made damp with Regulus’ tears that you finally whispered your consolation, he had managed to quiet down to small hiccups and shy sniffles. 

“There is no way on earth that I would ever ever disown you or Sirius, let alone both of you,” you press a kiss to Regulus’ temple, blinking back your tears at the intense display of sadness from your usually mild-mannered son. 

“B-but,” Regulus protests, pulling away to look at you with wide, swollen eyes, “you’ve created a separate vault for me and Sirius, that can only mean one thing…” he explains, making you realise your careless actions. 

“Oh darling, I’m not disowning you at all…” you wipe your thumbs beneath his eyes, offering a sad, apologetic smile for having conveyed such confusing intentions, “I only wanted to make sure you and your brother had something to put your belongings in and have a place for your savings that nobody else can touch,” he tilts his head curiously at you, “it’s to set you and your brother up well for the future. These vaults are for your and your brother’s possessions only, nobody else’s. For now, I’ll have your keys and help you save up some galleons until you’re old enough. I know that we’re a very rich family but there’s no harm in having your own vaults so that you and your brother can start adulthood on a good foundation,”

“…th-that’s all?”

“That’s all,” you nuzzle his nose with your own and kiss his forehead, making him giggle — such a beautiful sound. 

He throws his arms over your shoulders and gives you a tight squeeze, “Thank you, Mother,” you can hear the relief dripping from his voice and it makes your heart clench. 

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, darling,” 

“It’s okay…” he whispers shyly, not wanting to pull away so you could witness the flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks. 

“Next time you’re worried about something, please talk to me, okay? I don’t want you to worry needlessly,”

Regulus nods and pulls away to grin brightly at you, “Okay!” you bought him a lot of sweets at the shops after that. 

11th September 1971 

You visited Belby’s Potions and Ingredients every day for the next week and it was always closed. After some time, you take the trips without Regulus, opting for going by yourself while he’s being tutored by Peony. Usually, you’d make your way home after realising there would be no signs of the couple appearing any time soon. There wasn’t a single light on behind the shop’s windows. Its interior was motionless, like a space suspended in time — nothing was out of place, it was merely still… and it stayed like that for an entire week.

An unhealthy amount of concern was beginning to build up in the pit of your stomach for the couple — perhaps Ruth’s illness the previous week was truly debilitating and when you remember your insensitivity, dominated by desperation, your chest constricts with shame atop the mounting anxiety. After your visit with Regulus, you had purchased a moon calendar and discovered that Remus would be experiencing his first transformation the following night and you suppose that realisation didn’t help your anxiety over the issue. He was going to be experiencing his first transformation so quickly, he barely would have settled into Hogwarts. For that sweet, kind and anxious boy, you were willing to do anything atop all the things you were already planning to do for Sirius and Regulus. 

Belby’s Potions and Ingredients was just ahead now, the muscle memory of the journey there easily guiding your feet and allowing your mind to wonder about the young lycanthrope attending Hogwarts with your firstborn. You were anticipating another uneventful but worrisome visit, however, the sight of an ‘open’ sign hanging on the door made your heart stop. For a moment, you paused, frozen in place and took the time to digest what you were seeing in front of you. You have to confirm that it wasn’t a dream or an illusion that your mind conjured up in its noxious mixture of fret and despair. 

No, this was real! 

Pushing open the door, you rush inside and immediately call out to the potioneer, “Mr Belby! Mr Belby!” you meet the bearded man at his designated station behind the front counter. Beneath his eyes are the faintest trace of dark circles but he manages to smile at your bright demeanour. 

“Good morning, Madam Black,” he greets, somewhat, cheerfully, “how may I help you today?”

With warmth in your eyes, you redirect his statement, “Actually, I was hoping to help you today…” as eager as you were to offer your aide and investment in the brilliant potioneer’s talents, his appearance was a sharp contrast to your first meeting that you were swamped with worry. Damocles gives an inquisitive look at your statement and prompts you for an explanation but it falls on deaf ears when you remember his words the previous week. “How is Ruth?” guilt tugs at your heartstrings and the emotion easily shows on your features, “Is she feeling better?”

Happy to divert from your earlier words in favour of his wife, Damocles smiles rather grimly and nods, “She has quite the weak constitution, especially after an episode,” he’s careful with his words and expertly continues despite his true emotions pleading to take control of his expressions. At times there’s an odd quirk in his smile or a misplaced dullness in his eyes — gone was the man you greeted at your first encounter. He looked poorly. Dishevelled and weighed down by something heavy. Someone so kind, loving and passionate about his work didn’t deserve such troubles. 

“And it’s lasted an entire week?” you’re saddened by his confirming nod and hum, “Is she here? At the shop?” you don’t wait until he confirms nor denies; you’re already stepping towards an isolated but well-loved corner of the quaint shop. 

“Madam Black…” a weak, melodious voice greets you. Approaching Ruth in her rocking chair, you offer a kind smile, happy to see her in, somewhat, good health. “I apologise that my illness has deprived the business of my husband,” she is humbly sheepish and her radiant countenance almost distracts you from her trembling hands. It isn’t a secret how devitalised she is but to still attempt her embroidery in her eroded state makes your chest tighten.

“I’m just happy you’re doing better,” you try to forget the careless words you had desperately shouted the week previous. It wasn’t your intention to be so insensitive and you wouldn’t dare wish any ill-will towards Ruth. The Belby couple are incredibly pleasant people and a treasure to have for company. You suppose that your eagerness to help Remus with his lycanthropy was too strong to resist – not only can you help Sirius and Regulus, but you can help many more of your beloved characters too. 

“Thank you, Madam Black,” Ruth has the loveliest smile, it breaks your heart to know that she’s suffering from such a debilitating, chronic illness. 

“I can’t imagine being as lovely as you despite needing a week to recover from an episode—” You pause and look upon Ruth with searching eyes. Aside from her face, she is covered head-to-toe in clothing. Leaning on the wall was a simple cane within her reach. And, if you weren’t mistaken, exactly a week before today, was a full moon…

“Ruth, my dear, your potion,” Damocles gently reminds, pulling out a phial of the iconic magenta healing potion. You recognise it immediately. It’s the same healing potion you’ve been forced to endure because of the degenerate bitch stuck in your head causing you to faint multiple times. 

“Darling, you’re a wonderful potioneer but I’d rather not consume another healing potion right now. I’ll be sick, otherwise,” Ruth politely declines. Her attentive husband directly goes to protest but you’re quick to interfere. 

“Mr Belby, when did you say Ruth had her episode?” 

“Last week,” he answers nonchalantly, still entirely focused on his wife, who continues to resist his resolute demands of needing to drink the potion. 

“That was a full moon…” the couple pause and a stillness consumes the space. It’s as if you’re suddenly in a vacuum, where time doesn’t exist and everything is at a standstill. “Is Ruth suffering from Lycanthropy?” you take care to keep any form of judgement out of your voice, your tone is neutral, your volume levelled and there isn’t a trace of disdain in your eyes. To avoid causing a huge stir, you try to keep neutral but a warm sadness and soft compassion manages to sneak onto your countenance. 

“Ruth’s illness is not your concern, Madam Black,” Damocles’ voice is strong, commanding and protective. His firm stance as he partially stands in the way of his wife demands that you pull back and stay at a distance. 

“Are you trying to find a cure?” you ask, completely impartial now and, almost, chillingly stoic. Damocles doesn’t answer. You glimpse their connected hands, their grip on each other is as strong as a tightly wound knot; it would be a struggle to pry them apart. “If you are, there isn’t a cure—” 

“I WON’T STAND FOR ANY VERBALLY DEMEANING REMARKS AGAINST MY WIFE! GET OUT! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!”

“I haven’t said anything of the sort to Ruth…” you smile kindly at the potioneer and reach out your hand, “I want to help you,”

“HYPOCRITE!” his loud volume makes you immediately retract your hand. From her seat, Ruth places a gentle hand on her husband’s forearm, a silent plea to give you a chance. Damocles doesn’t fully yield his anger but, in respect of his wife, lowers his voice slightly, "You just denied that a cure could be made!” he can’t trust you. You are a Black, the matriarch, in fact — your entire family despise dark creatures, even those that were afflicted without their consent, much like his dearest. He won’t let you lay a finger on his wife. 

“I said that only because that goal is too ambitious for the moment.” your comment makes Damocles pause, shocked but thoughtful, “I can’t encourage you to make a cure right away but I will support you in the endeavour to create a potion that will relieve the symptoms of Lycanthropy,”

“Support, how?” 

“Funding?” you suggest, “I can help you get expensive ingredients. Or maybe I can help you with research? Or I can keep Ruth company while you focus on your work entirely? I can do all of that and more if you will only let me,” 

The couple look at each other with curious eyes that also fill with fear and hope. 

“…what do you hope to gain from this?” Damocles needed to know. He just couldn’t fathom that someone of such high standing in the wizarding world, who was infamous for her intolerance of dark creatures, muggles, half-bloods and everything that didn’t reflect her skewedimage of ‘pure’ was in favour of helping him, the husband to a lycanthrope.

“I have no ulterior motives… I only wish to turn over a new leaf and help those that I can,” 

“I don’t believe you,” Damocles looks at you with suspicious eyes, narrowed and sharp. He is a contrasting image to the kind and warm man you first met at the counter on Sirius’ Hogwarts shopping day. 

“Then believe that I also have someone…” you look at Ruth, meeting her gentle eyes with a soft stare, “Believe that I have someone I deeply care about and wish to help with their Lycanthropy too,” you’re unable to break eye contact with Ruth; she can comprehend the deep sorrow in your eyes along with a determination that cannot be rivalled. It connects with her deep down, making her heart ache with feelings of desperation and painful hope.  

Damocles is torn. Ever since meeting his current wife, he has wanted nothing more than to use his expertise in potions to help her condition. It was an ambition he had been doing alone largely due to the prejudicial opinions surrounding Lycanthropy. It’s been years and his progress has barely been noticeable. All he’s been able to achieve are potions that barely have an effect. His recent potion was the most progress he’s ever made, where he was able to reduce her anxieties during the transformation. It was only thanks to the powdered moonstone he had managed to get a hold of. If he can have easy access to such valuable ingredients, his progression on the potion will be exponential. But he resists. He’s getting carried away by the excitement of possibilities, not only will he be helping his wife but he will have the opportunity to work with high-quality, precious ingredients again. He was a potioneer, not a businessman so his shop is barely keeping him and his wife afloat, their heads barely above the water of bills and necessities.

Ruth looks at her husband’s thoughtful countenance. She feels such guilt for burdening him with her condition but she doesn’t regret marrying him and promising to share the rest of her life with the kind man. Damocles makes the effort to always support her and assure her that he loves her regardless of her condition and affiliated insecurities. He loves her for her smile, her beautiful eyes, her delicious cooking, her kind heart, her precious love of books, her talent for embroidery, her loving words and the fact that he feels whole with her. The moment he said his vows and uttered the words ‘I do’, he had pledged to take care of her wholeheartedly and he intends to keep that promise, in the same fashion she does.    

“Sweetheart…” Ruth pleads with her eyes, staring up at her husband as tears well up in their eyes. They don’t know your full intentions but they’re willing to do whatever it takes. 

‘I want to take care of her,’

‘I want to be good to him’

“…alright, it’s a deal,”

You leave the store with the promise of visiting the Belby couple again soon, where you plan on catching up with Damocles’ progress and discuss future endeavours with the confidential project. The buzz and thrill pulse through your arterial system like an effusive river, unable to stop and eager to run its course all the way to its estuary but you don’t have one so the rush will have to calm on its own. 

This was a step forward in helping Remus and Ruth as well as many more werewolves across the country. The week you were shut out of the shop because of Damocles’ absence, you’ve been relentlessly planning your future tactics. It’s led to further elaborations on your other plans as well as the inclusion of other entirely new plots. You not only have the power and insight to help your darling sons but a myriad of other characters as well. There wasn’t going to be a chance of you doing one without the other now. Everything is interconnected in this universe; if you help Remus, you’ll also be helping Sirius and Regulus. Everything connects to your beautiful sons — you weren’t going to neglect a single path forward. It’s ambitious but when has a challenge ever stopped you from moving forward somehow? Never. 

Entering 12 Grimmauld Place, you were met with an eerie quietness. Searching for the time on the grandfather clock down the hall, you realise that Regulus would have finished his lesson a little while ago, nearing half an hour. The realisation jumpstarts your nerves and you’re rushing up the stairs to greet him at the Library; that’s where he usually goes to consolidate his lesson notes. You can vividly imagine him bent over a desk, carefully skimming over inky parchment as a plate of snacks and a cup of tea sit within arms reach of him, courtesy of Kreacher. When you peek into the Library, however, there isn’t a trace of Regulus anywhere. Where could he be? Regulus is fond of his routines and doesn’t normally stray from them, especially when it comes to his workflow study habits. 

Why do I have a bad feeling?... You think to yourself, placing a trembling hand over your thundering heart. The silence around you is deafening now and you have to hold back on rampaging through the house. Orion is home… In situations like this, you must stay calm. If Orion has done something to Regulus, it’ll be best if he doesn’t know you’ve come home yet. 

“Mistress! Mistress!” Kreacher appears out of thin air, tugging anxiously at his ears with eyes as wide as saucers. The panic in his watery gaze sets your own heart racing with apprehension. You already know what may be happening.

“Where is Regulus?”

“The vault, Mistress! The vault!”

You’ve never been in the very upper levels of the house before. It never felt worthy of exploration when you wanted to focus on your boys and the plans you’re slowly beginning to implement for them and the universe. 

The uppermost floor of the house was an attic space that had the far end shut off as a separate room. This area must be due to some space-warping magic because the roof was flat from the outside but the ceiling of this large room had the typical triangular roof shape. Boxes and other miscellaneous items litter about the, otherwise, sparse area, providing plenty of nooks and crannies for spiders and other creepy-crawlies to make a home in. Kreacher stays by the skirt of your dress, trembling from restlessness as you lean further into the room. He informed you that Regulus was forcibly dragged up here by Orion as soon as he saw off Peony at the fireplace. Orion had been peacefully reading The Daily Prophet in an armchair in the corner of the living room. Regulus was jumped by his own father. The old dirtbag must still be incensed by Sirius’ sorting ceremony and what had occurred at the Headmaster’s office. 

Narrowing your gaze, you focus on Orion, who leans against the locked door of the attic’s separate room. The iron wall that sectioned it off blended into the metal door that was firmly shut. From within that small, hollow, metal room came desperate banging, presumably from Regulus hitting the walls with his closed fists. The thought makes your hand clench around your wand tightly. This pathetic bastard has a death wish…

“If your brother had been sorted into Slytherin this wouldn’t be happening Regulus! How big of a disappointment the both of you are!”

“Father! I’m sorry!” Regulus’ pleading comes out muffled through the metal walls and door, you can barely hear him. It makes you want to hollow out your chest with the way your heart is relentlessly clenching down on itself.

“When you turn eleven and enter Hogwarts, you better be sorted into Slytherin OR ELSE YOU WILL BE IN FOR A WORLD OF PAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“…n-no father…” 

“WHAT WAS THAT?!!! REGULUS?!!!” Orion’s angry shout was met with silence and he punches the mental door in anger, the force making the structure shake, “ANSWER ME, BOY!”

“Flippendo!”you utter angrily under your breath with your wand raised at Orion’s turned back. The spell sends him flying forward with a startled scream. His head hits the metal door and he’s immediately knocked unconscious. You don’t wait a second further to rush forward and unlock the metal door. It takes a great amount of effort to pull open with its heftiness but maternal instincts make it as simple as opening any normal door. 

“Mother!” Regulus cries at the sight of you from where he’s seated directly behind the door. The enclosed space was incredibly dark, there wasn’t a window anywhere. With the light filtering in past your silhouette, you looked like an angel sent to rescue him. 

“Let's get you out of this horrid room, darling,” it’s hard to relax or temper your anger when you’re looking upon your trembling son who should only ever be smiling. You don’t want him spending a second longer in this horrible attic so you quickly lift him into your arms and rush him down to his room as he cries freely from relief. 

You weren’t in a hurry to get Regulus settled beneath his blankets and tucked in; having him in your arms was a firm reassurance that he’s with you, safe and sound so you’re reluctant to let him go. Nevertheless, you get him settle him down and sit at his bedside before flicking your wand up. The gesture draws back the curtains to their furthest limits and opens up the windows to allow in some fresh air. 

“You’re okay, darling. Mother’s here now…” you whisper, gently petting his forehead and combing back his inky curls. Beneath the covers, Regulus can’t seem to stop himself from shaking but enjoys the sunlight pouring in through the windows and the cooling breeze that caresses his pale, tear-streaked cheeks. He hasn’t said a single word and neither have you. His gaze remains transfixed on the open window where the blue skies are decorated with floating clouds. You watch as his anxious expression gradually loosens, unfurling into one without emotion. “My love?…” the tension in Regulus’ small shoulders and tight limbs melts away when your voice finally breaks through the ringing in his ears. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to leave you home alone…”

His eyes flicker up to hold your gaze. He watches as tears gather at your waterline before spilling over in a cascade of glittering diamonds, created under the mounted pressure that was your love and panic for him and his wellbeing.

“Mother is so incredibly sorry,” you cradle his small hand in your own before pressing his palm against your tearful cheek. “Please forgive me, I promise I won’t let this happen ever again,”

You had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. Regulus was frightened and shaken up by his father’s aggressive and malicious expression of contempt, you had done nothing. Regulus would willingly go through that all over again if it meant his father didn’t get to touch Sirius. For the longest time, Sirius had been his only protector and now he has you too. He can bear anything if it means keeping his older brother safe the same way he kept Regulus safe before you came to protect both of them. For the longest time, it felt as if they were the only two people who truly understood each other — it still largely feels that way — and that they were the only ones who knew how to protect each other properly. But that wasn’t the case anymore because they have you now. Beautiful, amazing, motherly you. 

Oftentimes, Regulus would remember the day you had such a drastic personality change. It started normal despite the odd behaviour you had been partaking in leading up to that moment, spending more time in the private quarters meant only for the ladies of the Black family. It had been happening for weeks and the behaviour was odd but since it’s led to such a change of heart in you, the two brothers didn’t question it. 

Here you are now, apologising for his father’s abuse and tearfully pleading for his forgiveness. Regulus never would have imagined witnessing the beautiful image of his mother expressing such sincere sorrow and guilt over his ailing form. The youngest Black thinks he could be dreaming, still back in that claustrophobic attic vault and conjuring up a hallucination to save himself from the mental turmoil the small space puts him through. Sirius had nothing to worry about when he left for Hogwarts because, no matter what, you’ll be there for him and Regulus, even if it means going against Orion. 

“It’s okay, Mother,” Regulus softly smiles up at you, his brows furrowing slightly when his words make your tears pour out in more globulous amounts. 

“This won’t happen again, I swear it,” you press a kiss against his small palm. 

“I know,” the trust and belief Regulus has in you shines through in the glimmer of his eyes, catching the sunlight pouring in from his windows. With your heart stuttering in your chest, you pause before opening your arms and leaning forward to embrace his form through the blankets. “NO!”with a loud shout, Regulus pushes you away and presses his eyes tightly closed.

When Regulus opens his eyes again, you’re frozen in place with wide, shocked eyes. You don’t know what to do. In your chest, your heart breaks at the notion that Regulus doesn’t want to be touched by you but there’s a side of you that reassures his reaction is natural considering what he had just gone through. The conflicting emotions freeze up your limbs and leave you motionless, vulnerable to be swayed onto either side.

Realisation dawns on the youngest Black brother and a frightened gasp escapes him before he’s apologising profusely. Tears reappear at his waterline and threaten to spill over at the thought of pushing you away when all you wanted to do was comfort him. He needs to explain! He has to explain! 

Please don’t hate me! Please don’t hate me! Pleasedon’thateme!

“I’m sorry, Mother!” Regulus reaches for your hand and squeezes it in between his own, “I-I don’t feel comfortable in tight spaces, I don’t want to be h-hugged right now,” you have reminded him and Sirius multiple times that they have the right to communicate their emotions, wants and needs. The important thing you always emphasised was that you would never be angry at them for doing that – Regulus is holding you to your word but waits with bated breath for your response.  

His words were all the confirmation you needed to relax. Of course, that was what he was worried about most. How stupid and selfish of you to make this situation about yourself when Regulus had gone through something so traumatising. 

“Don’t worry, my love, I should have been more considerate of you,” you carefully shush him and wipe away his silent tears, resisting the urge to lean in and take up more of his personal space, “please don’t cry, you have nothing to be sorry for…if you don’t feel comfortable with anything please tell me right away. I promise I won’t get angry or take offence,” you look into his eyes earnestly, reiterating the words you always reminded him and his brother of. It makes Regulus smile softly; you kept your word, “I only want you to be comfortable and happy, always, okay?”

Regulus calms down and nods affirmatively, his smile growing. You agree to hold his hand in silence while he falls asleep and relish being allowed to stay close despite what happened to him earlier. His hand is small but his grip is strong, he doesn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, even in his sleep. You will protect him forever and always. 

While Regulus rests peacefully in his room, you carefully slip away from his hold to make dinner. His favourite. So is dessert. He’ll be eating all of his favourites for the next week and he’s getting spoiled rotten. As usual, Kreacher accompanies you and ambles about the kitchen under your precise instructions, however, you have a special task for him tonight. 

“Is Orion still unconscious in the attic, Kreacher?” you ask monotonously. 

“Y-yes mistress,“

“Good,” you chirp cheerfully, “Please move him to the bottom of the third staircase,” Kreacher gives you a curious look but doesn’t question your intentions. 

“And then, mistress?”

“Leave him there,” in a blink, Kreacher had disappeared to do your bidding. The house elf doesn’t know what you have planned for the patriarch but knows it would be to avenge the young master. That was enough for Kreacher. 

When Kreacher rejoins you in the kitchen to finish preparing Regulus’ dinner, you proceed to tell him that he move Orion to bed as soon as he wakes up. But only when he wakes up. 

“Whatever the mistress says,” Kreacher nods. 

When you bring up the trays for Regulus, he’s still peacefully asleep in bed so you place his food at his bedside and ask Kreacher to keep the meal warm by putting a spell on the plates like he often does with yours and the boys’ tea. It’s then that the wrinkly elf perks up and alerts you that Orion has awoken. Nodding briefly at him, he disappears with a snap of his fingers and you immediately know he’s gone to do as you’ve asked earlier on. While he does that, you fetch Orion’s dinner as well, which is simple tomato soup with garlic bread — it’s more than he deserves. 

As soon as you enter the room with the food tray, you hear Orion muttering to himself bitterly as he sits up in bed, “Useless house elf, leaving me at the bottom of the stairs,”

“I told Kreacher to leave you there,” you explain gently as you approach his bedside. 

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Orion, you’ll only hurt yourself more if you act so excited after just waking up,” as if on cue, Orion groans and falls back with a hand pressed against his temple, “See? Here, I’ve made dinner to help you feel better, eat it at your own pace,” it hurts you to smile at him after what he’s done to your sweet, precious Regulus but you have to be patient. You’ll bring the axe down on his neck soon. You can’t believe you were willing to settle for divorce alone but that’s not enough for someone like him. Now, you have something much more fitting in mind.

“Why did you tell Kreacher to leave me there?” Orion doesn’t take the food right away, only giving it a brief side-ways glance before trying to figure out what happened. 

“It was for your safety. It looked like you hit your head and that’s a very sensitive place, I was worried that if he moved you, he’d end up carelessly hurting you even more and we don’t want that…”

With a huff, he deems your explanation decent enough and finally sits up again, reaching for his food. You smile even more, eagerly anticipating his replenishment on your home-cooked meal when he stops to ask something, “Did you have something to do with this?…” He gestures to his temple subtly, referring to his injury. 

“Of course, I did,” you answer simply, ignoring the blend of shock and fury that consumes his expression, “I made sure your meal was very nutritious so you can heal properly,”

“That’s not what I—… never mind,” Orion sighs in defeat and slowly begins to eat in bed. He gives an occasional groan of protest, reaching up and making it obvious how uncomfortable his temple is, silently asking for additional attention and care. He’s not getting any of that from you. Rather, you quite enjoy his uncomfortable musings. You won’t take initiative, instead, you’ll wait until he explicitly asks for a healing potion before finally giving him one. You’ll ensure that Kreacher is informed of this too. He’s a mere house elf, after all, your stupid husband can’t expect Kreacher to make any helpful suggestions. 

“Make sure to eat everything, it’s to help with your health, okay?” you leave him to finish off his meal alone, smiling all the way to Regulus’ room. 

‘YOU PUT SOMETHING IN MY HUSBAND’S FOOD! I SAW IT!’ Walburga screeches in your head. For once, it comes out as music to your ears. The laxatives were from a muggle store so she has no clue what you’ve done.

‘Now, now Walburga,’ you inwardly voice in a patient and gentle tone, ‘Orion was very naughty doing that to Regulus while I was away. So kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP AND ENJOY THE SHOW YOU FOUL, EMACIATED, UGLY BITCH!’ that shuts her up nicely just as you’re about to enter Regulus’ bedroom again, smirking to yourself at Orion’s imminent doom.  

‘Enjoy the explosive diarrhoea you disgusting prick,' 

You also manage to bring up a second helping of food so you can eat together with Regulus when he finally wakes and has the appetite for dinner. In the meantime, you brought your notebook of plans to continue your scheming at Regulus’ desk. You had spent some time admiring his layout and the way he organises his stationery. He has quite a mature system in place for someone so young but it was something you admired — you can tell how incredibly bright his future is going to be just from seeing how he sets up his workplace. Truthfully, the set-up helped motivate you more, you want to preserve your youngest son’s hopes, dreams, happiness and everything about him so that he can live a fulfilled life — not even his desk will be touched by those with malicious intent or anyone that wanted to drag him down. 

Your specific plans for tonight focus solely on the wolfsbane potion and trying to remember everything about it in your universe. From the corner of your eye, you have the perfect image of Regulus peacefully sleeping in bed, tucked up and cosy. There isn’t a single sign of terror to agitate his precious features, rather, he looks completely at peace. This is how he should always look. The image encourages you to push forward, trying to remember any bit of helpful information from your previous life as a Harry Potter fan. Even if the clue may seem unhelpful or completely made up, you write it down regardless. 

‘All this and for what?!’ the nagging voice in the back of your head makes another appearance but you simply roll your eyes. If you give her more attention than she deserves, you’ll only spur her on more, ‘not only is my son part of that foolish house but you’re making such efforts for disgusting half-breeds! Ridiculous! Have you no shame?!’she screeches unpleasantly to the point of making your inner ears ache. However, it was at that moment that a thought occurred to you. It’s strange…very strange. Orion made his displeasure of Sirius’ sorting known the instant he heard the news but Walburga only voices her dissatisfaction now. 

‘When I think about it… you didn’t freak out half as much as Orion when letters gossiping of Sirius’ sorting came. I was fully predicting a meltdown that would put me in a coma for a day or two,’ you internally voice, passing it off as an innocuous comment in the hopes that it leaves her naive to your true intentions. 

‘Your sickening plans for that pin were too much of a distraction!’Walburga excuses as you keep quiet. If you interrupt her ramblings, you won’t be able to pick up on the reasoning behind her actions. It’s best to let her get ahead of herself, the fool, ‘Typical for a soft-hearted, feeble muggle like you! Celebrating such a dishonourable sorting ceremony result! It’s simply humiliating! Rather than that revolting pin, I sent that no good son of mine a howler the day after his sorting. Useless child! He’s no Black, he’s a no-good, mud-blood-loving, blood-traitor who likes to engage with half-breeds and is an utter disgrace to his family! Associating himself with that ‘light’ Potter family, engaging with filthy mudbloods and blood traitors — dirty! The lot of them! Regulus is my only good child, if only he hadn’t gotten himself killed trying to leave the organisation, he would have been my perfect son!’

‘H— How do you know that?…and how do you know about his ‘half-breed’ friend you vile piece of shit?’ as always, her disgusting attitude makes your blood boil on Remus’ and Ruth’s behalf. How dare she act so high and mighty when she’s the most unpleasant person to ever exist? She doesn’t answer your question, instead, she becomes eerily quiet once more. Scoffing at her cowardly departure from the conversation, you make an urgent annotation in your notebook. Hopefully, this will lead to some answers. 

‘Investigate the first room you woke up in’

SERIES M.LIST | NEXT. 07 : INVESTIGATIONS →

A/N : This was longer than I intended but a lot has happened so I hope you enjoy the read regardless. I'm sorry for what happened to our baby but we'll be there for him as you were able to see. No way are we letting that slide nor are we going to let that happen any longer. 

Thank you again to all the darlings who always show their love and support of this series, even though I adore writing it and planning future chapters, it's also really time-consuming and exhausting to keep up at points so it really means a lot when I see that you darlings enjoy the read and look forward to series updates. 

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

[reysdriver]

Back To School | R.L.

Remus is about to leave to teach at Hogwarts — husband!remus x wife!reader angst/fluff

warnings: it's angst but it's fluffy really

words: 0.5k

a/n: I was gonna finish this and post it way back at the beginning of the month, but then I ended up writing a whole bunch of other stuff so I forgot about this lol

You and your husband had awoken to the early-morning alarm ringing around your bedroom, but Remus shut it off quickly so you could get an extra few minutes in bed together. 

After you decided you had to get up or else Remus would be late, you got up, got ready, and started making a simple breakfast together. You sliced fruit while Remus made toast for you both, then you sat down opposite each other at your table and ate, making small bits of conversation throughout. 

When you finished, you told Remus to leave your plates at the table—you would do a whole load of dishes to distract yourself later—and you both went to collect all of Remus’ things.

Since he got the job at the beginning of summer, you had been giving him all sorts of little gifts, things he would need for work, and some little mementos to remember each other and stay sane while you were apart for so long. 

“And you’re sure you’ve got everything?” You were sure Remus packed everything he’d need for the next three months away in his bags, but you were just stalling so you didn’t have to part ways with him yet. 

“What would I have forgotten, dove?”

You answered him quietly. “Me.”

Your husband fought back a smile, not wanting to seem too happy when you were sad. “I could never forget you, my sweet girl; I just can’t pack you in my suitcase and bring you with me, now can I?”

“We haven’t tried yet…” You said, a half-faux pout on your face. 

The both of you imagined the sight of Remus trying to sneak you into Hogwarts via his luggage. It brought a smile to your face that you didn’t want to be there in this solemn moment. 

“I’d have to choose between you and my clothes, dove. And as tough of a decision as that is, I can’t go to work naked; I’d be fired before classes could even start.”

“That means you would have to come home, right?” You asked it in a way that told him exactly what you were thinking, and he had to shut it down. 

“I would come home, but then we would have no money and would have to live in a shack made of hay somewhere because we wouldn’t be able to afford a whole house with just you working.”

Remus pulled you into a hug, cocooning you in his long arms and his comforting chest. You both stayed in that embrace, breathing slow and deep together to level your emotions. It was nice, just not nice enough knowing that this was the last time you’d be in your flat together until the winter holidays. 

Remus started loosening his grip on your body, which earned him an upset look from you. 

“We’re gonna be late if we don’t go soon. We won’t be able to say goodbye again at the train station if we’re rushing.” He explained nicely. 

You sighed, knowing he was right. “Okay, but you have to promise me at least one good hug at the station.”

“As long as I have time to spare, I’ll give it all to you.”

[lefaystrent]

Distractions

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairings: all-star cast of platonicness

Summary: The light sides are in a sad state of affairs. The dark sides are pretty good at offering distractions.

-------------------------------------------------------

Logan sits on the living room couch, head in his hands, slumped in defeat. Despair. Failure.

He's slightly jostled by someone else sitting on the couch.

"Aliens aren't real," comes Virgil's voice, definitive and assumedly directed at Logan.

Logan lifts his head enough to check. His glasses have made a mighty impression into his forehead but he doesn't move to adjust them. Virgil is very nearly glaring at him.

"Virgil, you yourself have created power point demonstrations centered around the validity of aliens. Since when has your opinion changed?"

"Since now. Fight me, nerd."

Logan leans back a little to properly look at Virgil. He could be mistaken for fuming, the way his jaw is set and the fire burning in his eyes. But no, he is merely adamant to rile Logan up. To what end though?

"Are you...challenging me to a debate?"

Virgil gives a sharp-toothed, satisfied grin. He is willing to play devil's advocate for a good cause.

***

"Hey, wanna dance?"

Roman windmills his arm in the direction of the sultry voice that whispered in his ear. The faint smell of garlic wifts in his nostrils, followed by a gleeful chuckle.

"Remus!! Get out of my room!"

Remus rolls back on his heels. He folds his arms behind his back and looks into the air, a thoughtful hum on his lips.

"Hmmm, how about no?"

"Leave! Out you pest!"

"Make me!"

"You would force the hand of your own brother?" Roman says far too seriously, and Remus gives him an unimpressed stare. "...yeah, you're right, this is very on brand for you. I don't know why I'm acting surprised."

Remus shrugs and throws his hands up in the air. "Alright, if you're done bothering me–"

"You're the one who came in my room!"

"I've got better things to do than listen to you whine, Prince Poopy Pants."

Remus goes to stride out the door. Roman watches him, arms crosses and fingers tapping impatiently on his elbow, haughty expression that says he's one push away from snapping.

Remus pauses at the door.

Roman doesn't have time to anticipate.

Remus snatches up one of Roman's Pop figures off his bookshelf and flees the scene. Roman exits stage right in pursuit, screaming.

***

"You can't stay in bed all day."

"Watch me," Patton says, a pout in his voice. He's buried under blankets with only his hair sticking out at the top.

Janus clicks his tongue and scratches at Patton's scalp. It's less effective with gloves on, but Patton allows the contact.

"Or do, I certainly won't judge you," Janus says flippantly.

Patton whines into the mattress, "That implies that someone is judging me."

"I didn't say that. Did I say that?"

"Janus!" Exasperrated, Patton tosses down his blankets enough to reveal his rumpled onsie and impressive bedhead. He stops when he sees what sits on the bedside table that wasn't there before.

"You never came down for breakfast this morning," Janus explains. "Not that I care or anything. There were just so many pancakes leftover that it would be a shame for them to go to waste."

Patton eyes the tray and the stack of syrupy pancakes. His lip wobbles a little. "You brought me breakfast in bed?"

"Don't get used to it."

Patton finds the will to smile and tucks into breakfast. It tastes freshly made and sweet.

[loonyloopylupin96]

Remus Lupin Doesn't Shout

Theme: Hospital Wing | @wolfstarmicrofic | Words: 814 | CW: Contains mild homophobic language (x1)

Remus Lupin is one of those quiet sort of boys, the ones who you can tell try to fade into the background but keep involved at the same time. There's an art to that sort of thing, Sirius believes. He expects his parents would have been much happier with him if he had that sort of skill.

He doesn't.

When he has a thought, he shares it without hesitancy. When something drives him mad, he makes it known.

Remus isn't like that.

In fact, Sirius can't think of a single time he's ever heard Remus shout.

There was one time in their second year, where James had hexed all the shampoo in their room to cause the next user to lose their hair for twelve hours. He'd meant it to get Sirius, but Sirius had slept in that morning. James, also fast asleep, was awoken hours later by a hat-wearing Remus standing over his bed looking displeased, but grinning.

"I hope this isn't permanent," he'd laughed, as James put his glasses on.

"Oh bugger, I'd meant to get-"

"You'll have to do better than that!" Sirius bellowed from beyond the bathroom door.

His hair had indeed returned within twelve hours, and Remus hadn't shouted at them for their carelessness.

He also hadn't shouted when they were all in the great hall together, happily enjoying breakfast when suddenly an owl appeared above them.

The bird swooped down, dropping a bright red envelope in front of Sirius' bowl.

"Is that a-"

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK-" the Howler yelled before Peter could finish asking his question, "I REGRET THAT YOU WERE EVER BORN. HOW MANY TIMES MUST WE HEAR OF THE SHAME YOU'VE BROUGHT UPON US? YOU'RE AN EMBARRASSMENT. A COCKROACH. A WASTE OF SPACE. ASSOCIATING WITH-"

Whatever else the howler said, they would never know. Just then, McGonagall appeared and vanished it with a flick of her wrist.

Almost as soon as she had appeared, the Professor was gone again.

"She's right!" shouted a voice from the Slytherin table.

Sirius, face blanched and trembling, was frozen in his seat. Remus' cheeks were puffed and flushed, he looked like he was going to tell them exactly how wrong they were.

But instead, he quietly put a hand on Sirius' arm and the four friends left the hall together.

None of them shouted that day.

Remus also hadn't shouted when, some months later on a school visit to Hogsmeade, Sirius had kissed him squarely on the lips before they'd entered the Three Broomsticks together.

"Padfoot, what are you-"

"I'm letting people know you're mine," he'd grinned.

"But we're in public!" Remus disputed, flustered and looking around in a panic.

Sirius had shrugged, and set off ahead to find them a table.

Remus, following, was knocked off track as someone pushed roughly passed him. "Fucking queers," the dark-haired figure grumbled, leaving the pub.

When Remus arrived at the table, Sirius was beaming. "If we sit here, we might get to see-" he caught sight of his boyfriend's face and stopped. "Are you okay?"

Remus explained what had happened in a quiet voice. Sirius was rightfully furious.

Still, Remus didn't shout.

After almost exactly a year, Sirius found himself visiting Remus in the hospital wing.

He'd done it plenty of times before, but this one was different. This time, Remus didn't try to smile when he saw him.

"Do you know what you've done?" Remus asked before Sirius had time to say anything.

Sirius didn't answer immediately. He looked at Remus; he looked at the cast on his arm, the deep gash across his cheek which magic struggled to heal, the heartbreak in his expression. He hadn't looked this bad since the four of them had begun to spend the full moons together.

And it was all his fault.

"I didn't think I-"

"You didn't think?" Remus' voice was low and emotionless, but it broke on the last word.

"I'm so sorry. Snape really pissed me off, I just said it without thinking. I swear I didn't mean to use you like that."

"I guess if you didn't mean it, it's okay." There was a hollow resignation in his voice, and Sirius felt his stomach plummet.

"Moony, I swear I didn't. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I'm a fucking idiot, you don't deserve-"

"You're not an idiot, Sirius," he said in that same, empty voice. "Don't say that."

"Stop being so fucking reasonable! Tell me you hate me! Tell me how I let you down. Tell me how I betrayed you and how you never want to see me again-"

Tears fell down both boys' cheeks. The side of Remus' mouth lifted into a sad, gentle smile.

"It's fine, Padfoot. It doesn't matter."

"Moony, please. Please just shout at me. Throw something at me. Scream at me…"

Sometimes, Sirius wanted Remus to shout.

But of course, he didn't.

Remus doesn't shout.

[hoaxriot]

FOOLISH ONE

pairings. james potter x reader

synopsis. james potter found love with you after pining for lily evans but did he ever really let go of that love for her?

──────────────────────

once again, you laid in your bed late at night thinking about james potter. had you been overthinking this situation to much? maybe you were, but maybe in reality you weren’t. you had watched him pine after lily evans for years, you met him through remus who was your dear friend.

you watched for years after he got declined by lily and lay on the common room couch surrounded by you and his friends, drowning in his sadness.

until randomly one summer he had found himself looking at you, realizing your beauty he had never seen. so randomly, he stopped chasing lily in the halls and followed you.

he wasn’t yours but he sure did act like it, he acted like a boyfriend. he didn’t look at any girls, he declined any girl who went up to him. as did you with anyone.

so maybe you didn’t have any right to be upset or angry, remus noticed your solemn looks when he started to talk to lily again and he understood. it got worse when james went on with his poems he spoke to lily at breakfast or what he used to do. he continued it after making you think you had him.

as your mind started to get tired of overthinking, your eyelids started to droop as you found yourself to sleep.

the next day you woke up to the room being empty and to you being late. of course, you thought. getting ready quickly and sprinting to first class, you walked into class quietly apologizing for being late and making your way to your seat by remus.

he took a look at you as you got out your things, he saw the bags underneath your eyes darker and the sad look in your eyes— sadder. “love, you alright?” he questioned you as you started to look at his book to see what page he was on. humming out softly in an answer, he knew you weren’t.

remus looked over his shoulder where james and lily sat diagonally from the two of you. he saw lily laughing at something the boy has said, you heard her laugh making you turn around to see james smiling at her as she laughed at something he said.

he felt eyes on him and turned to see you and remus staring at him, you quickly turned around a looked back at your blank paper. remus continued to look at him, his stare turned into a glare causing james to frown in confusion. remus loved the potter boy dearly but gods could he be so blind sometimes. he shook his head as he turned back to you beginning to help you with the work.

every time james or lily laughed you sighed, you felt horrible about it. lily was lovely, she was everything you weren’t. maybe that’s why james couldn’t keep his eyes on you for more than a week.

after class was over you went on with your day, you didn’t speak or raise your hand. lucky for you, james picked to sit by lily in the last class which made you even more upset.

so upset, you made your way to the dorms after class missing time to hangout with your friends, they figured you didn’t feel well or had work to do. remus didn’t, but he knew you needed space. in truth, you just wanted someone to tell you james liked you like he said he did and you weren’t wrong for feeling this way.

but you laid in bed until dinner came, you didn’t go. as you sat up from laying down almost all day seeing that the sun was gone and the moonlight brought light into your room.

you changed into your pajamas after a shower, by the time you got out james started to worry about you when you didn’t arrive at dinner. remus tried to tell him that you just needed space but he continued to ditch dinner and find you.

it was easy, your dorm was the first place he looked. he stopped in the doorway seeing you sitting on your bed staring out the window with you back faced towards him. he noticed your hair was wet and you were in more comfortable clothes.

“hey, love.” he spoke quietly as he walked into the room shutting the door, you didn’t move, not even a flinch as he sat on the bed. he started to worry more.

“everything alright?” he looked at the side of your face from beside you, you had a permanent frown on your face. you nodded your head with a soft ‘no.’ james moved himself to face your way when he hard that, “what’s wrong, love? are you ill?” you shut your eyes tightly as he spoke, could he even be more blind from his own actions?

“no, james. i am not sick. i’m—“ cutting yourself off with a sigh as you stood up, he watched your every move as you started to pick at your fingers then running your fingers through your hair turning your back to him. james stood up when you did making you face him with his hand, you moved it away from you.

“do you still.. like her?” you spoke the last two words softly, james took a step back out of shock at your question.

“no! i like you, i’ve told you that so many time. lily isn’t who i want anymore. you are!” he got defensive quickly which is what made you know.

“you don’t like me more than you like her, james. i watched you since first year chase her, make yourself believe she is who you will love and she will love you. that lily is your one and only—“

“yes i know i said that. but that’s not how i feel anymore, i love you.” james took a step closer to you, you stayed as he looked down into your teary eyes.

“yes, you love me, okay? but you love her still! you love her more and that’s okay, james. it’s fine.” you told yourself that all day but in truth it wasn’t because you loved him so much. “just— i will not be a second choice when lily turns you down once again and you drown yourself in your own sadness believing that lily’s in denial.” using your arms to exaggerate your words, james frowns as his emotions get the best of him as his eyes start to fill with tears.

“love, that’s not true. you’re not second choice to me!” his voice got louder as he spoke, his words didn’t mean anything because his actions show otherwise.

you stood in front of him in silence trying to find the right things to say, your tears rolled down your cheeks silently.

“but i am,” you nodded your head, “i am, james. it’s okay that you love her. i just want you to be happy, i wish to see you fall in love, have a family. as much i wish that could be me. i don’t want you looking back at this moment and realize i was right— you want her, you want to keep chasing her until she realizes that you are the one she wants.” james shook his head as he spoke taking a step back from you.

“nothing i can say make you know, can there?” he questioned you, all you could do was nod. he looked down at his feet where he swayed on his heels. he didn’t say anymore before he left the room leaving the door open. james made his way down to the common room forgetting that he was crying, sirius saw him first immediately asking what happened.

he wiped his eyes as he sat down at the single chair, beginning to explain. remus listened to him, of course he felt bad for his friend but no one was up in your room comforting you as sirius did him.

he excused himself as he made his way up to the girls room, he didn’t see you at first but he heard the cries from beside your bed. remus walked around your bed to find you, knees bent against your chest as you held your head in your hands as you cried.

he leaned in front of you putting his hands on your knees, he lightly tapped against them.

you sniffled before you lifted your head, remus frowned as he saw your red face and your eyes filled with tears that won’t stop falling.

“rem.” you whispered softly, he didn’t say anything as he moved your knees so he could grab you, he moved you onto your bed pulling you into a tight hug.

he stayed with you all night ignoring the questioning looks from the girls, yet mary looked at lily before they moved on with their nights. remus pulled your curtains shut as the girls laid in their beds.

“everything will be alright, sweets.” he spoke to you calling the nickname he called you since he’s known you making you laugh. it came from first year when he found you on the train stuffing your mouth with sweets, he learned later that it was something you did when you were nervous.

“thank you, moony.” whispering to him as you made yourself comfortable beside him.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 8 - Bodyswap AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 8, word count 1209

CW- Cronic Illness, Child Abuse (Not described, but you know what's happened).

Sirius and Remus regularly bickered. It drove their other friends mad. Remus thought Sirius was a spoilt rich boy brat, and Sirius thought Remus put on how sick he felt because he loved the attention that came with it. 

The bickering got so bad one day that Remus shoved Sirius, and Sirius shoved him back. James had to come between them and break up the fight. Remus’s eye was swelling shut, and Sirius’s lip had burst open. 

“I wish you two could walk in each other’s shoes for a day. Maybe then you wouldn’t bicker so much.” They scowled at each other until it was time to go home. 

Remus awoke the following morning feeling better than he’d ever felt before. He stretched, and nothing hurt. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open onto an elegantly decorated room. 

“You are late for breakfast. If you are not presentable at the table in five minutes, there will be consequences!” A woman who wasn’t his mother screeched through the door. 

He got up and opened the ornately carved wardrobe. The clothes inside were not his and most definitely wouldn’t fit his tall frame. He rubbed his eyes, grabbed a perfectly ironed shirt and held it up to his body. He used the mirror on the back of the door to see how it looked. He dropped it on the floor. The reflection staring back at him was not his own. 

Sirius had never slept worse in his life. He felt like he had the flu. His joints ached no matter what position he slept in. The sun shone through too-thin curtains, stopping him from falling back to sleep. A gentle knock came at the door as it slowly opened. 

“Good morning, darling,” A sweet honey-haired woman cooed at him. “I’ve got you tablets and some toast. When you’re ready, I’ve got porridge keeping warm for you. Don’t rush, though, my love.” She opened the curtains and planted a kiss in his hair before she walked back out, closing the door behind her. 

Sirius panicked. Pills? What pills could he possibly need? He jumped out of the unfamiliar bed and rushed into the little bathroom across the hall. He stared at the boy in the mirror above the sink, higher up than he was used to. His hands came to his face, and so did the reflections. He pinched himself hard. It hurt a lot. So he wasn’t dreaming. 

“Sweetheart, there’s a phone call for you.” The woman’s sweet voice called through the door. 

“C-c-coming,” He stuttered as he stumbled to the door. He took the portable house phone from her and put it to his ear. “Hello?” He said into the receiver. 

“Sirius!” 

“Remus!”

“What the hell is going on?” They said together. 

“Are you in my house?” Remus asked.

“I think so. Do you have blue striped bedding and a yellow lamp?” 

“Yes! And do you have a ridiculous wardrobe and an insanely gigantic bed?”

“Does it have green bedding?”

“Yep.”

“Oh my god, Remus! What the actual.” Sirius ran his hand through his hair. His fingers came away too quickly. Remus’s hair was a lot shorter than Sirius’s. 

“Your mum seems like a lot,” Remus tried to make light of it like he always did. “Apparently, I was late for breakfast. I didn’t even know that was a thing. Now, I’m meant to be self-studying. Then there’s a Latin tutor. Sirius, I don’t speak Latin!”

“Yeah, she doesn’t abide laziness. Your mum seems lovely, though. She brought me toast and some pills. What are they for?” Sirius followed Remus’s example. 

“Oh, you need to take them. Believe me. You’ll regret it if you don’t.” Remus warned. 

“Sirius, where have you gone?!” Sirius heard his mother’s voice over the phone and flinched. 

“Remus, you need to hang up now and go do whatever it is you were meant to be doing.” He couldn’t help the touch of panic in his voice. 

“What are you on about? I’m only on the phone.” Remus chuckled back at him. Sirius heard his mother’s heels click against the hardwood flooring. 

“Remus,” He whispered in a shaky voice. The line went dead. 

Sirius knew what was about to happen to Remus, and he wished he could take his place. He snatched up the pills off the bedside table and swallowed the lot. This he could do for Remus, at least.

Mrs Lupin beamed at him when he walked into the kitchen. 

“Oh, love. You look a bit pale. Why don’t you go snuggle up on the sofa, and I’ll get you some tea? She fussed over him all day, making sure he was comfortable. He had full control over what they watched on the TV, and she never uttered the word homework. He was glad he didn’t have to do too much, as his body felt so delicate. Plus, with the bad night’s sleep, he was exhausted. “How do you feel about pizza for dinner?” She asked when it began to get late. 

“Yeah, Mrs—Er, yeah, mum. That sounds perfect.” He smiled at her.

He asked to go up to his room after they’d finished eating. 

“Of course, you can silly. I don’t know why you’re even asking. Oh, don’t forget to take your evening pills before you go up,” Sirius did as he was told. The stairs were hard to get up. He was out of breath before he’d gotten halfway up. 

He spent the next hour doing all of Remus’s homework for him. By the end, he just got into bed and passed out. 

When he woke again, it was morning. His alarm was blaring next to his head, and his emerald sheets were wrapped around him in a tight ball. He could feel the bruises. She’d proper walloped him this time. He wondered if Remus had talked back at her. 

He got ready for breakfast, but before he could leave his room. Regulus came in. And for the first time in years. He hugged Sirius and hurried back out when Walburga’s shoes clacked across the hallway floor. Monday couldn’t come quickly enough.

Remus, for once, got up early and arrived at school before any of his friends. He watched the town car pull up and deposit Sirius and Regulus onto the curb. 

Regulus hugged Sirius and disappeared off into the building. Sirius and Remus stared at each other. Sirius moved first and gently wrapped his arms around Remus, knowing now how much that body ached and why he needed the extra care the school gave him. Remus gripped him as tight as he could. He’d had no idea how bad Sirius had it. His parents made their lives look so perfect. 

Sirius sucked in a breath when Remus squeezed against one of the bruises. 

“Oh, shit, Sirius. I’m so sorry.” Remus panicked, loosening his hug. 

“No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” Sirius knew how much effort Remus was putting into that hug. 

“Aww, isn’t this sweet?” James smirked as he walked up to them. “Nice to see you hugging rather than fighting.” Sirius and Remus looked at each other, smiling happily at each other. Finally, they realised there was so much more to each other than they ever could have guessed.     

[goldenlionprince]

How to make your romantic intentions known

Part two to How to stop a know-it-all from showing off (which is now part of the How-to Guides for Inter-house Relationships series) thanks to @eastwindmlk and her comment that brought Ravenclaw Sirius back on my radar xD It's February so the perfect time to bring teenage love and disaster back into the world ;) Enjoy!

[AO3]

.

He's infuriating.

That's nothing new, really. Sirius Black has been infuriating ever since James had become aware of his existence. But he's even more infuriating now. Not that James had thought that would be possible, but Black just loves to prove him wrong, even now when he's not even saying a contradicting word to James. He's sitting over there at the Ravenclaw table, writing on his overlong piece of parchment – because of course it has to be much longer than required – concentrating fully on his work instead of his breakfast and ignoring everyone around.

Everyone, including James. Which means his brain is not entirely preoccupied with the little kiss they shared after Charms a few days ago, unlike James'. Which only shows again how infuriating he is.

James huffs and takes another piece of toast out of the basket on the table in front of him. He bites into it, his eyes still on Black bent over his essay as he chews. Does Black ever even eat at all? Or is something like eating too mundane for someone so brainy?

“Are you okay, James?” Remus asks, bringing James back to the Gryffindor table.

“Fine,” James grumbles around his mouthful of toast. It's not fine, really, because Sirius Black seems not as affected by their kiss as James is.

He doesn't seem affected at all.

Which is exactly why James can't stop watching him, waiting for even a tiny give away, a small slip up, that reveals what Black is thinking other than total indifference. Because it can't be indifference. It simply can't.

If the boy you drive up the wall with your know-it-all comments kisses you in an empty corridor it just can't leave you feeling absolutely nothing about it.

Not that James has kissed him willingly. It had just happened. Somehow.

Maybe Black had cursed him and that's why James did it. Or he had coated his lips in a love potion so that's why James can't stop thinking about it. That would make so much sense.

Only that it doesn't. Because – as much as it pains James to admit it – Black wouldn't do things like that.

Which just means James is affected by that stupid kiss more than he should be and he has no idea why.

Maybe it was just a fluke. Maybe that's why Black can sit over there, focused on his essay, because he already figured out it was a fluke with that big brain of his.

But to make sure it was just a fluke, nothing else, James would have to do it again. To gather more data. Proper research. Just making sure the theory he's come up with is sound.

Which is why he's making his way to the library that very same afternoon without Remus or Peter. He would be surprised if Black would be anywhere else in the castle at this time of day, with no other classes to be in.

James has checked.

Locating the git in the library turns out to be a little more complicated. The library is big, which James already knew, but Black has to be in the most obscure corner of it. Of course. He's flipping through an absolute brick of a book, his hip leaning against the bookcase, looking all cool and casual.

How does he do that?

“This is starting to become a problem, Potter,” Black says and looks up from the book. His grey eyes meet James' with no glimmer of surprise in them, as if he already knew James would show up eventually. “First you're watching me, now we're at stalking. Will I have to be concerned about you suddenly standing in front of my bed in the middle of the night?”

“No,” James says dumbly.

Black sighs and closes the heavy tome with a thud. “What do you want?”

“I was hoping you could help me with some research,” James says, finding his tongue again along with the courage to step closer.

Black frowns and sets the book down on a nearby study table. “What kind of resea-”

James doesn't let him finish. He pushes Black up against the shelf and kisses him, shutting him up before that infuriating mouth can say another word.

It's a second or two of bliss, of James realizing his fluke theory might be utter nonsense, that he actually is interested in Sirius Black, before Black is pushing him back, two fingers staying on James’ chest as if he wants to make sure James stays where he is.

“When I said this is motivation,” he says, his grey eyes pinning James better in place than his fingers do. “I didn't mean it in the way that you can just grab me whenever you feel like it and glare at me from across the hall for the rest of the time in between.”

“I don't glare!” James protests. Black just gives him another look. James gives him a sheepish smile in return and cards a hand through his hair. “Okay, maybe I do. But it's just because I thought you might have cursed me into kissing you the first time.”

Black’s eyes somehow turn cold as he crosses his arms over his chest. James feels the absence of his fingers on his chest like a stab of cold air. “Charming.”

“No, no it's fine,” James reassures him. “I know you didn't.”

“I'm so glad, Potter.”

James sighs and drops his hand. “That came out all wrong.”

Black raises one eyebrow in a perfect judgemental arch. “You don't say.”

“Look,” James says, frustration creeping into his voice. Why does Black feel the need to make everything a lot more complicated? “I kind of like you, I think.”

“Wow,” Black says, shaking his head. “You really know how to make someone feel special.”

Somehow that comment is what makes James pause. Because yes, he can see how that’s making him sound kind of shitty.

Black seems to take pity on the crestfallen look on his face. He sighs and drops his arms. “I’ll tell you what, Potter. Sort out whatever this is that’s going on in that head of yours and when you’ve figured out what it is you want you can come find me again. You just want to make out? Fine, I’m interested, but not in a way where only you get to decide when and where it’s happening and I have to wait around until you remember my existence again. You want to be more than just a casual snog?” Black casually shrugs his shoulders. “We’ll see about that. But one thing I want to make very clear.” He taps two of his fingers on James’ chest. “Next time you'll ask first before you just grab and kiss me or I will jinx you in a way that will make it very hard for you to find your ball again, are we clear?”

James swallows hard and nods. He’s not sure if he should feel as turned on as he is.

“Good.” Black says and then turns away to grab his bag and the brick of a book he was looking at earlier. He slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder and gives James one final nod. “See you around, Potter. And tell Lupin he can have my Runes notes when he’s sick again next week.”

And with that he’s gone.

It takes a moment for his words to sink in. When Remus is sick again, not if.

Next week will be another full moon.

Which means Sirius Black – Ravenclaw know-it-all extraordinaire – knows about Remus' furry little secret. Or at least suspects it.

Somehow that doesn’t surprise James at all. A stupidly sappy grin spreads on his lips. If anyone else would have implied Remus' condition, James would have felt threatened on Remus' behalf. But somehow coming from Black, all James feels is pride in Black's stupidly big brain. They have shared N.E.W.T.s classes for less than six months and he's already onto them.

It also means he keeps an eye on James and his friends.

Adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder, James leaves the library with a skip in his steps.

[jamespotterlovesreggie]

Crown - A Rosekiller micro-fic

January prompts day 2 . wordcount-523

@rosekillermicrofic

It was Barty's birthday , He dreads this day every year because nobody attempted to make it special .

Luckily Evan knew this and teamed up with Pandora to make it extra special because it was Barty's 16th after all , They had planned out a perfect day for him and because Pandora can't keep a secret to save her life Evan had to keep obliviating him .

It was now the morning and Barty was just waking up when he realised that both the dorms and common room were decorated in balloons and banners , He also noticed that there was a pile of presents at the end of his bed (well technically Evan's bed but it doesn't matter ).

"Morning bat " said Evan , He was standing in the doorway Barty was slightly disappointed that he was so far away but he got over it when he saw what Evan was holding .

It was a cupcake with a candle on it and an inflatable plastic crown.

" Morning Rosie "

Evan walked toward him holding out the cupcake so he could blow out the candle .

"Happy Birthday Bee" Evan said whilst placing the crown very delicately on Barty's head , Then he pressed a soft kiss to Barty's nose .

"Is thy not worthy of an actual kiss" said Barty with a pout obviously not satisfied .

Evan jokingly rolled his eyes " Of course you are " he said whilst leaning down to press a kiss to his boyfriend's lips .

They had to get dressed now because Evan had a whole day planned out for them , It was a Saturday so they didn't have any classes.

First they had breakfast in The Great Hall where they met up with Regulus , Pandora and Dorcas .

Then they went to Hogsmeade , The first shop they went into was Honeydukes where Evan bought him all his favourite sweets .

The next place they went was the Three Broomsticks , Evan had brought his polaroid camera with them , they took some photos together Barty was still wearing his plastic crown he refused to take it off.

Whilst they continued their day out the Regulus , Pandora , Dorcas and the Marauders + Lily , Mary and Marlene all met in the Slytherin common room to get ready for Barty's surprise party .

James, Regulus and Sirius were in charge of the decorations.

Lily , Pandora and Mary were in charge of the cake and food.

Remus was in charge of the invitations because he has the best handwriting out of all of them .

Marlene and Dorcas were in charge of the drinks .

And finally, Peter was handing out all the invitations.

Barty and Evan were walking back to the castle now , Pandora received a message from Evan letting her know that they were almost back .

Every person who was attending had arrived , apart from Evan and Barty of course.

"Everyone hide " Pandora yelled , everyone got into their hiding spots.

Barty and Evan entered the common room when all of a sudden.

"SURPRISE"

Barty jumped back but his eyes lit up when he recognised all his favourite people in one room along with a bunch of other kids .

That was Barty's favourite birthday of all time .

[wolfstargazer]

Jan 13 - Strong - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 300

He hadn't been certain he'd be going.

But James had sat him down after breakfast and said with uncharacteristic firmness, "We are going Padfoot. He needs us."

Peter's suit was too big. James wished he'd brought a scarf. And Sirius, always running hot, felt his blood freeze as they made their way down the path towards the house.

There were lots of Muggles there. And many witches and wizards too, although the Muggles might have struggled to have picked them out in their sombre clothes.

Sirius had met Lyall once or twice. But if he recognised the boys, he didn't seem to register as he stood at the door and shook their hands.

"Thank you for coming."

Sirius willed himself to speak. But it was James who took the lead and reminded Lyall gently, "We're Remus' friends from school, Mr Lupin? James, and Peter, and Sirius."

"Oh yes," he said. "Remus is upstairs, I think. No doubt he'll want to see you."

It felt like an interminable climb to the top of the house. Peter gave a light knock on the door, and James said, "It's us," before lifting the latch and going in.

Remus was sat on the bed, shirt crumpled, surrounded by books and parchment. He looked up as they entered, his eyes red-rimmed, and Sirius' chest tightened as Remus stood up and tried to smile.

"I'm so sorry, Moony," James said. Peter nodded. Sirius didn't know what to say.

He watched as Remus crumbled. With tears in his eyes, he crossed the room and fell into Sirius' arms.

Suddenly, Sirius knew what to do. He stood fast, wrapped two strong arms about his friend and held him as he cried, the silent sobs of a boy who'd lost his mother, and whispered the words he'd finally found, "I am here."

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and sirius have a well practiced and sentimental ritual: hair washing.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sirius x fem!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1052

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭: reader and sirius shower together, fluff, reader's hair texture and color aren't described so hopefully everyone can picture their own beautiful hair

Mornings spent in your boyfriend’s bathroom were some of the best, especially on Sunday mornings, when there was no quidditch, no school, and probably no detention. Today was one of those mornings.

The rest of the boys were up and out by noon, but you and Sirius were still wrapped up in his bed sheets, face to face with your legs tangled and his head resting on your chest. Remus’ pesky Muggle alarm clock had woken the pair of you up just an hour ago, when the wolf boy dodged a thrown pillow and shouted a curse as he ran from the room.

Finally, finally, you were alone again, but sleep was hard to catch again. 

Sunlight was bleeding in through the window curtains and laughter wafted up from the common room. The bed was getting stuffy and hot, and you noticed your scalp felt damp, eliciting a sigh from you. “Pads?”

“Sleep,” he grumbled back, pulling you tighter against him.

You huffed and blew a strand of hair out of your face. “Sirius, come on. Can’t waste a whole day.”

“Why not?”

“Siri,” you laughed. “Please? Maybe we can get breakfast still.”

“Not hungry,” he muttered. Sirius tucked his head further into your neck. He almost purred when you started to scratch at his head.

His hair really was pretty. Ever soft and lovely to play with, it fell just below his chin. Though, as you ran your fingers through his dark locks, he started to squirm at the feeling.

He groaned and lifted his head to stare down at you. “It’s as oily as it feels, huh?”

idown your face and reache dup to caress his cheek. “Wanna shower?”

Sirius brightened into alertness instantly, throwing the sheets off and tugging you along with him. A laugh escaped your lips as he shut the door behind you and led you right to the shower.

Your shampoo and conditioner was already there, having its own special spot among Sirius’ bottles and then the three-in-one the boys used. It’d been a while since you washed your hair in your own dorm, you mused, having taken to coodirnating wash days with Sirius.

It was a sacred ritual, almost, started a year ago, some months into your relationship. You’d noticed quickly how much care Sirius put into his hair, and he’d noticed the same in you, and it was this unspoken observation that deepened the affection growing between you. 

He had your routine down by heart, knowing every product you did or didn’t use and always making sure he had a spare in his bathroom. Sirius’ hair was very important to him. Growing up in Grimauld Place it was one of the only things he could control. So the fact that you could appreciate this part of him as much as he did only made him love you more. 

Sirius relished in the feeling of the steam of the warm water, you skin against his. He melted at your touch, loving how you carded your fingers through his hair with shampoo, admiring how gentle your hands were. 

He was feeling particularly sentimental today, it seemed, as his hands found the divots of your waist and guided you into a sway. He hummed a song he’d heard on Remus’ cassette and grinned at the sound of your giggle in his ear. 

Sirius was just as careful with your hair, taking his turn in washing yours. Pride swelled in his chest as you closed you eyes and leaned into him, completely at ease. He loved that he made you feel safe, and adored how you made him feel the same.

With hair and bodies clean, the ritual took its next step as the shower turned off and the pair of you stepped out onto the little bathmat Peter had brought back in first year. The mirror was all fogged up, and this triggered your favorite step: Sirius took his finger and drew a single smiley face in the corner of the mirror before he wiped away enough of the condensation for you to see your reflections.

He put on some boxers and threw one of his t-shirts at your head, and side by side you went through the motions of drying your hair and then brushing your teeth. It was probably somewhere close to noon by now, meaning the preparations for lunch were being set out in the Great Hall. 

When all was said and done, you and Sirius stood in the center of the bathroom, lazily leaning into one another, your arms draped over his shoulders and his around your waist. 

“We should go eat,” you said.

He barely mumbled in agreement, yet neither of you moved for another moment. That was until someone started pounding their fist against the bathroom door, and James’ voice bellowed, “Oi, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

You groaned in unison, and Sirius moved to unlock the door with you shuffling behind him. James stood on the other side looking much too chipper for your liking, and you promptly flipped him off as you passed. He just chuckled and mock-saluted the pair of you, retreating into the bathroom.

Sirius tossed you the clothes you’d been wearing the day before and then went to change for the day as well. You stood at the mirror over Remus’ desk, messing with your hair a bit before you called over, “Love, can you braid my hair?”

You didn’t need to ask twice. In seconds he had you sitting on his bed whilst he stood behind you, chewing his lip as he manuevered your strands around to fix it exactly right. Your eyes fell shut and your shoulders relaxed; nothing felt quite as nice as your boyfriend playing with your hair.

He tied it off with an elastic, and when you turned around you found him pulling his hair back in a low ponytail, some curly strands poking out and framing his face nicely. You shifted around on the bed to stand on your knees, pecking a kiss to his forehead before you jumped down and interlocked his hand with yours.

“Shall we, Mr. Black?” you teased, swinging your arms between you, leading him down the stairs to the common room.

Sirius rolled his eyes and pressed his lips to the side of your head. “We shall.”

[messingwithmoony]

what is your favorite random / silly headcannon?

My top posts were kind of my headcanons that I thought of at 3am one night when I couldnt sleep so had to publish them so I didnt forget them.

James Potter would SO have metal rods in his legs because there is only so much magic can do - after so many breaks, he would've had to habe resorted to the muggle way of fixing bones - just like enlargening/shrinking charms can damage the original object if performed repeatedly.

Regulus would have SO many piercings. His first was done by Barty in second year, just his ears, but from then on, he'd go to Barty every time he wanted something done, and ended up leaving Hogwarts with 2 lobe piercings per ear, his conch piercing in his right, and an industrial in his left. He'd also have his lip pierced, but waited until he left hogwarts to get that and his tongue pierced. He also used Disillusionment charms to hide them from Walburga.

Sirius Black's music taste came from Remus Lupin. When they met in first year, Remus had brought all of his records with him (similar to TCOPTP) and put Bowie on the record player to help him relax - the new environment of magic surrounding Remus stressed him out a lot, and so he put on music the first night to help settle the nerves. Sirius came to him the next day practically on his knees begging Remus to play the record again and play all of his records. Knowing Walburga, she banned all music from Grimmauld, apart from classical music - but all magic made by muggles was banned. Sirius would have to get creative over the holidays, transfiguring his records & record players into things that he could hide around his room, away from Walburga's prying eyes.

Remus Lupin loves those sugar quills - especially near the full moon, always needing a sugar boost to get him through the long lectures. He is also the only one that Sirius and James permit to not watch their quidditch games, learning their lesson when Remus slept all the way through their pre-match breakfast with his head on Sirius' shoulder - Sirius and James decided to let the poor lad go back to bed, and never tried to force Remus to go to another match - not even the mid afternoon ones. Leading Remus to feel left out and isolated because he did want to see them play - but too scared to tell them that he cares.

Im gonna shut up now hahah lmk if you want more

[bibbityboppitybillyharvgrove]

Always There - Chapter Three: S.Snape

Summary: Y/N Potter was left with a baby to care for after her brother and sister-in-law were murdered by Voldemort. One person was there for her, a person she didn’t expect but soon became her comfort person, Severus Snape. During Harry’s third year at Hogwarts and her third year as Herbology professor, a few old friends come around again. Y/N has to handle the feelings of these old friends being around again as well as handle her feelings for a certain potions master all while she tries to hide these things from her godson.

Series Masterlist

My full Masterlist

Pairings: Severus Snape x Female Professor Reader, Potter!Reader x friend!Remus

Chapter Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader(No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, Harry growing up in a loving home, mentions of death and murder, mentions of Azkaban, shittyly written angst, mutual pining, Wormtail, Remus is kinda a dick but redeems himself

Series Warnings: Female Reader, Potter Reader (No physical description of reader) probably shitty writing, OOC Snape, Harry grows up in a loving environment, mentions of death and murder, poorly written angst, Remus is a shitty friend, poorly written pining,

Please let me know how I can improve my writing and being more inclusive to POC as I am whiter than white. Please also let me know if I have to add more to the warnings! My messages are open as well as my asks!

I am starting a taglist so leave either a comment or something in my asks if you would like to be tagged in any of my works or just this series!

Author's Note: Please let me know how I can improve or if you find any errors! Correct me, don't be afraid to! I want to improve my writing and become a better writer so any feedback or advise is welcomed!

Word Count: 2968

My asks are open for questions, suggestions and feedback!

Feedback is welcomed and encouraged!

Enjoy!

not my gif

gif not mine

To say that Y/N was deeply hurt by her nephew was putting it nicely. It was quickly approaching Christmas, the Potters usually opting to stay at Hogwarts, this year that was still the case, however the aunt and nephew were not on speaking terms. During the holiday, Y/N spent her day in her room, laid up in bed staring into the fire crackling inside the room. She hadn’t even left the room for breakfast, or lunch and now it was close to dinner.

She heard a knock on the door but ignored it, knowing it was probably Severus or Minerva trying to get her to eat again, the two had been switching off checking on her since her argument with Harry. She knew that they were just trying to help but she couldn’t be bothered. The knocking came again, Y/N opening the door with the wave of her hand. She hadn’t turned to look at whoever it was, she didn’t even say a word. Too much was running through her mind, she always tried to run from her thoughts but sometimes she just couldn’t help it.

“Darling, I brought you something to eat. And someone would like to talk to you if you’re up to it,” Severus spoke gently. She still hadn’t acknowledged the man nor the other visitor that joined him. “I don’t think she’s up to it. Maybe another day.” Instead of hearing footsteps leaving, she heard footsteps getting closer, stopping at the edge of her bed. Remus’ scarred face came into view as he sat on the floor next to her bed. 

“C’mon dove, talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.” Remus was met with no answer, it was like she was in a catatonic state. She wasn’t reacting to anything, everyone was getting so worried that they were about to get madam Pomphrey. “You really think James would want you to act like this?! No, he would want you to talk some sense into Harry! He would want you to get off your ass and do something about it!” Remus was yelling at her at this point.

“Don’t yell at her like that!” Severus snapped at him. 

“Don’t you dare talk about James like that ever again! Don’t tell me how to parent Harry, you lost that privilege when you left!” Y/N screamed at him, shooting up in her bed so she was sitting up. Remus had a smirk on his face, he knew just how to break her when she needed to be broken.

“My work here is done, see you later Snivellus,” Remus said before getting up to leave the room. However, the door slammed shut when he opened it. He turned to see Y/N standing up and stalking her way towards him.

“Don’t you dare talk to him like that ever again or I swear to Merlin your furry little problem will seem miniscule,” Her voice was threatening as was her stance. 

“Okay now dove, relax. It was harmless.”

“I don’t care, I hear that cruel name come out of your mouth ever again, it will be that last thing you ever say.” Severus’ face felt hot, his heart picking up speed, nobody had ever defended him so fiercely in his entire life.

“Let’s go take a walk to calm down a bit, darling. You haven’t been out of bed in a couple days,’ Severus chimed in, it was his attempt to diffuse the situation which seemed to work because she backed away, finding her robe and a pair of slippers and putting them on. Remus had taken this opportunity to leave the room, the pair being left alone like they enjoyed being. The two professors were the kinds of people that tended to like being alone, however, when the two were together they were happy as could be, they enjoyed each other’s company.

Severus escorted her out of her room and led her to the gardens. The air outside was cold but welcoming, snow coating the ground, snowflakes falling sporadically around them. Severus had wanted to know what was going on in her mind so he asked, Y/N answering him truthfully. “The whole thing with Harry was kind of a kickstarter to it. The holidays make it worse though, I know James was a complete ass to you but he was my brother. He was my best friend and it still hurts a lot to not have him around during the holidays, y’know? Christmas was the best time of year for my family when we were kids, everyone would be at the house, Sirius, Peter, Remus, mum and dad would be home and me and James would have a blast. Getting into the firewhiskey and playing stupid muggle games. I miss it,” She rambled.

“You are allowed to miss your brother, you knew the best parts of him whereas I knew the worst parts of him. I want you to know that you can come talk to me whenever, don’t let these things pile up to the point where you don’t get out of bed. I care about you Y/N, quite a lot so I want you to talk to me when you need me, when you just want to say something that comes to your mind, come to me,” Severus replied, his voice had changed, it was almost softer when he was speaking to her. It was almost like if he spoke too loud or too harsh, she would break.

“Did the coldest professor of Hogwarts just admit he cared about me? Who are you and what have you done to my Severus?” She joked, his heart skipping a beat when she said ‘my Severus’. Merlin, did he want to be hers and her his. She took note of the silence and the hint of red on his cheeks, a smirk coming to her face, “Did I just make you blush? Severus Snape can blush?”

“You’re a pest, you know that?”

“Only to you, but that doesn’t answer my question, Severus. Don’t avoid it.”

“No, it’s from the cold, are you happy with that?” Severus asked her, he knew that she knew he was lying. She could read the man like a book but she decided to let it go. The two of them continued their walk, Y/N shivering slightly when a particularly bitter gust of wind blew through them. Without even thinking, Severus took off his cloak and put it around her shoulders. Her heart picking up speed at the action, now it was her turn for her face to get hot.

“Won’t you be cold?” She asked him, concerned, about to take off the cloak. Severus placed his hand on her shoulder stopping her movements, her heart skipping a beat once again at the slightest touch.

“Don’t worry about me darling. I’m okay,” He smiled at her, his heart was warm with the care and concern she showed for him. She was one of the most selfless people he had ever interacted with. As they walked, the pair seemed to get closer and closer together, talking about anything and everything, their hands brushing often, their feet moving in sync. Before their hands could smack into each other again, Severus took her hand in his, gripping her hand firmly but not too tight, she could easily pull her hand away if she wanted. However that was the last thing she wanted to do, instead she squeezed his hand and gripped it just as firmly, much to his enjoyment. 

As they made their way back inside in a comfortable silence, Y/N heard squeaking by her feet, so she looked down. It was Scabbers, Ron Weasley’s pet rat. She stopped in her tracks to avoid stepping on the old rat, bending down and picking him up in her free hand. She got a closer look at the rat and almost dropped him in realization. “Oh my Godric! Peter Pettigrew! Severus, it’s Peter! His animagus was a rat and he looked exactly like this when he transformed!” She exclaimed, holding the rat close to her body no matter how much he wiggled and tried to get free. 

“Are you sure? He’s supposed to be dead and this looks like Weasley’s rat,” Severus replied, trying to talk her off a ledge even though she wasn’t on one. She was sure, 100% sure it was Peter. She gave Severus a look before dragging him to the headmaster’s office, knowing he’d be there. Once they had made it into his office, she presented Dumbledore with the rat.

“Why are you giving me a rat Y/N?” He asked the Potter woman in confusion.

“It’s Peter Pettigrew! Severus, get some veritaserum, please. I need answers,” She replied, her voice filled with desperation. Severus gave Albus a look telling him to go along with it before getting a vial of the truth serum.Although Severus had complete trust in Y/N, she had been through a lot as of late so he was a little unsure, however when, the woman pulled out her wand and gave it a wave at the rat who quickly turned into a man, he was shocked. Him and Dumbledore had a look of surprise on their faces, the potion master’s quickly turning into pride because Y/N stuck to her gut and trusted her instinct.

“Y/N, little Potter, dove, how are you?” Peter rambled as Dumbledore sent an urgent notice to the Minister of Magic. Peter was put into a chair, hands and feet tied to the chair so he couldn’t flee. Remus bursted into the office with the Minister in tow.

“Give him the serum Severus, we have some questions that are needing answers,” Dumbledore spoke. The black haired man walked toward the former rat and forced some of the serum into his mouth and down his throat. They asked a few baseline questions, asking his name, where he had been for the past 12 years.

“Who was the secret keeper for my brother and Lily?” Y/N demanded.

“It was me. Sirius was never secret keeper, James thought it would be too obvious.”

“You sold them out! You were the one who got James and Lily killed! I’m gonna fucking kill you!” She screamed at the man, a pair of arms grabbing her and pulling her away from him.

“Calm down, love, please. We need to get your answers, right? You need to keep calm so you get them,” Severus told her gently, her lips brushing her ear as he spoke, the action making her shiver slightly. She listened to his gentle breathing which acted as a soothing agent to her, keeping her as calm as she could although her heart was racing and being weighed heavy with guilt and betrayal. She felt guilty because for all of these years, she had believed that Sirius had sold out James and Lily when it was really Peter, who was right in front of her for the last three years. She felt betrayed because she had trusted Peter and believed the man to be dead but it turned out that she was wrong about that one. 

“Did Sirius kill those muggles?” Remus asked him.

“No, that was me. I framed him,” Peter admitted. With his answers, the minister deemed Peter Pettigrew a criminal with the sentencing of a dementor’s kiss. He was set to get the kiss in three days' time, for the wait he was to be  put into Azkaban. 

She felt dizzy, as if she couldn’t keep herself on her feet once she saw Peter get taken away, Remus and Albus following behind. The slytherin noticed this and grabbed her at the waist before she could fall. “Love, stay awake, open your eyes, come on,” She heard his voice but he sounded like he was underwater. She looked up at Severus, panicked.

“What’s happening to me? Sev, I’m scared,” She whimpered, Severus's heart breaking at the sound.

“It’s okay love, you’ll be okay. I’ll take you to Poppy, she’ll make you better.” After hearing his voice, she succumbed to the darkness, falling limp in his arms, causing the professor to panic. He picked her up and rushed to the hospital wing, he knew she would be okay. She would be okay.

****

Y/N hadn’t woken up until the day before New Year’s Eve, she was unconscious for 5 days. Severus, Harry, and Remus refused to leave her side. Severus had a serious chat with the Potter boy about the way he had treated his aunt as they were waiting for the herbalist to wake up.

“I hope you realize the amount of stress your aunt was under and the distress this childish argument caused her. She cares about you quite a lot Potter, you are the most important person in her life and you hurt her quite deeply. When she wakes, I expect you to fix it, if you don’t you’ll have to deal with me,” Severus explained to the boy he got to watch grow up.

“Yes uncle Sev. I’m sorry,” Harry replied rather guiltily.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to. And it’s professor Snape when we are on school grounds. Only uncle Sev outside of school.” Harry just nodded and returned to his aunt’s side.

Whilst she was out, they had found Sirius Black and deemed him a free man. Double checking when he agreed to take truth serum in front of a courtroom before he was actually set free. He had yet to visit Y/N, Harry and Remus, unsure of how the two would feel about him after being away from them for 12 years.

When Y/N began stirring, the three wizards got excited, all of them straightening their posture and watching her intently, waiting to see her eyes open. When they finally did, Harry practically threw himself onto his aunt, apologizing profusely, refusing to let go of her. “My boy, I forgive you. You felt betrayed, I understand that. I should’ve told you about Siri to begin with instead of hiding it,” Y/N explained tiredly. She gave her nephew a kiss on the cheek before he sat back on his chair and gave his uncles a chance to say hello to her. Remus was next. “Moony, I’m sorry for acting like such a bitch. You’re still my brother, you always will be.”

“Don’t you dare apologize dove, I deserved it. I left and it wasn’t fair to you, you lost James, Lily, Sirius and me within a few days. I shouldn’t have left and I’m so sorry I didn’t realize it sooner,” Remus explained. She opened her arms wanting a hug from the man which he gladly gave her. Once the two friends released each other, it was time for Severus. Remus and Harry decided to give them a little bit of privacy, leaving the room but peeking into the hospital wing to spy on them. Severus using the muffliato spell he had created so the two couldn’t hear what they were talking about.

“Sev, are you okay? I bet that was a lot for you to witness, huh?” She asked the long haired man.

“I should be asking you that, love. How are you feeling? Do you need anything?” He asked.

“I just need you, can you lay with me so we can talk?” Instead of verbally answering, he did as she asked, laying himself down next to her on the small bed. Because the bed was so small, she had turned on her side, scooting herself closer to him until she could lay her head on his chest, his arm closest to her holding her body close against his side, his fingers tracing absent-minded shapes on her back.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Severus said, “You gave me quite a scare.”

“I’m sorry, I honestly don’t know how it happened, did Poppy say why I passed out?”

“She said your body was too tired and malnourished to handle that amount of stress so once your adrenaline wore off, you collapsed.” She hummed in response, nuzzling her head into his chest a little more, listening to his heartbeat, it was soothing her and putting her back to sleep. “Still tired love?”

“When did you make that switch?” She questioned out of the blue.

“What switch are you talking about?”

“The switch from darling to love. When did that start?”

“I don’t know, I hadn’t even noticed. Do you want me to stop?”

“No, I quite like it. Now I need a new thing to call you. Maybe handsome? No, how about honey? I like that one, what do you think honey?” She thought out loud. As soon as the term passed her lips, his heart sped up which made her smile at the sound. “Sounds like you like that one,” She teased although her heart, too, sped up when he called her love or if he looked at her a certain way. Instead of him replying to her teasing, he tilted her head up by grasping her chin gently and guiding her to look at him. The two of them hadn’t noticed but they were leaning closer together. As soon as their lips touched, all thoughts and ailments felt like they had melted away. They were just focused on each other, how their lips felt together after pining after one another for so long.

They got interrupted by a black dog jumping onto the bed, growling at Severus and showing its teeth to intimidate him. Because the two were startled apart, Y/N didn’t get a good look at the dog until her heart had stopped racing and the blissful feeling started to fade. She looked into the eyes of the dog before realizing who it was.

“Sirius Orion Black.”

taglist

@acupnoodle @chxelsxaa @fluffyrat365 @fanficwriter5

[fruitcoops]

15 for anyone 🤓

(15) “So, I found this waterfall…”

Combined with a request for (20) “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.” Characters belong to @lumosinlove!

Sirius woke halfway through a snore--choked slightly, coughed, and rolled over onto his face with a fistful of blankets balled against his chest.

A laugh puffed across his bare shoulder. "Jeez, thanks, glad I got up early."

He didn't dignify that with a response; just kicked the middle sheet vaguely toward Remus and kept his eyes shut. The sound of a piano floated up from somewhere downstairs. Bach, he thought. It would be nice if someone played Debussy once in a while.

"Did you hear me?"

"Hmmrph," Sirius answered into the pillowcase. It was far too early for such demanding things as talking.

"I said, I brought breakfast up and a map."

That was nice of him. Sirius figured the continental breakfast's 9 a.m. closing time meant they'd be eating out in the mornings. If Remus brought some back with him, that promised at least an extra half hour of sleep to enjoy. He buried his nose deep enough in the pillow to smell mothballs and let the tension flow out of his back.

"Hey, hey, come on."

A light tug found the back of his hair. Sirius had to admit his acknowledgement was more grumpy this time.

A kiss this time, to the curve of his arm just peeking out of his cocoon. "You can't sleep vacation away."

"Mmm."

"I found a waterfall..."

Cold and wet, the sleepy creature of his brain advised. Not worth the risk. It would be a real insult to the lodge if he wasted their warm bed.

"Hey." Remus' voice was closer, now; he smiled despite himself, nudging into the downy quilt. Lips found his shoulder again, brushing back and forth in greeting before teeth gave a teasing scrape over his bicep. "Come on. You need to wake up because I can't do this without you."

Sirius could picture him: dressed to go for breakfast, but still bearing bedhead where he hadn't smoothed it down with a drowsy hand on his way out the door. He would be leaning close, arching down so that smile would rest just right against Sirius' arm. He chanced shifting his leg over and felt the bump of Remus' bent knees.

He breathed out. "Can walk. Without me."

"Nuh-uh."

"Mhm." Moths fluttered at the edge of his awareness.

"Don't want to."

"Can," he repeated. Morning was breaking over the last remnants of a dreamless sleep.

The teeth pressed in harder; he laughed, and felt Remus grin. "C'mon, or I'm eating your breakfast."

"Would not."

"Would."

"Nuh-uh."

"Mhm."