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toomanyfandoms-notenoughfics · 1 year ago

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Celestial Beings

Chapter Two: Talking it Out

Characters: Reader, Molly Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius Black

Summary: After many, many days of dealing with Moody's visits, (y/n) get two new visitors, who seem to be much much nicer.

Word Count: 2,285

Warnings: Torture Mention, SA Mention (it's mostly glossed over, no major details), Child Abuse Mention

A/N: Just in case I forgot to mention previously, this is not completely canon-compliant. I also have made Moody more of an a-hole, if anyone wants to know my thought process on that matter go ahead in send in a quick ask. Actually, feel free to send in an ask about anything, I would love to answer! I'm enjoying writing this, and I hope that at least some people are enjoying reading this.

Torture and pain were nothing new to (y/n), actually, it rather reminded her of home. She wasn’t sure how long she had been in the small room, nor how many times she’d had her “visits” with Moody. They rarely lasted longer than a few hours. The longest time, from what little sense of it she had, was somewhere around 8 hours.

Speaking of home, she missed it quite a bit. Malfoy Manor was a lot more cruel on the inside than most people could even guess. Not particularly any fault of Mrs. Malfoy or Draco, but rather Lucius. The head of the household, and loyal follower of her father, obeyed any and every command given. Of course, most of those orders were on how to best “raise and properly train” (y/n), which typically involved some form of torture.

(Y/n) of course, followed along as well, it was easier than dealing with the consequences. Out of everything, waterboarding was the worst. Followed closely behind spending any nights with a few perverted men, less as a consequence, more so as a reward for their loyalty to You-Know-Who. She had the scars to prove the ordeals she went through, as much as she would prefer to forget.

Even though she acted nonchalant about it all, she was still a person. She just couldn’t afford to be seen that way. In her opinion, it was better to be seen as an object or a weapon, a mere pawn on a chessboard. Then at least she herself could pretend to have no weaknesses, no breaking point. She preferred that people believed the rumors and lies, that she was as deadly as her father and as crazed as Bellatrix Lestrange.

Mrs.Weasley opened the cell door, a tired look on her face and a plate in hand. She gave (y/n) a sad smile as she set it down near the entrance.

“Couldn’t you just give him something to go off of?” Mrs. Weasley pleaded with her. “Anything so you could have a break from it all? You look downright awful, I’m worried for you.”

“What could I give him that he would believe?” (Y/n) asked, slowly grabbing the sandwich from the plate and taking a bite. “After all, I imagine it’s been at least a few weeks if not a month or so? I haven’t uttered a single thing he’s believed, including that his curses and beatings won’t work. I’m used to it, it’s what I’ve been molded to be.”

“What about something small, something that no one knows about, well You-Know-Who?” Mrs. Weasley tries, leaning against the door frame. “From what I’ve gathered he hasn’t exactly been the most caring of-”

“Don’t.” (Y/n) said flatly, meeting the older woman’s eyes. “Truly don’t go there. He cares, just in his own way.”

Mrs. Weasley is quiet after that, unsure as to what to say. She sighs, picking up the plate and turning to leave. Once the door was shut (y/n) sits back against the cold wall, no longer having the appetite for her sandwich.

“He does care. I just don’t know if it’s about me or the results I give him.” she gathers up the blanket, draping it over her legs. “No, he cares about me, what father wouldn’t care about their children? Even Lucius cares about Draco, and he doesn’t care about much else than impressing my father.” (Y/n) sat in the dark, with nothing but her own thoughts to keep her company and the occasional bug scurrying across the floor.

This time when the door opened it was someone (y/n) had not seen before. Or rather two someones she hadn’t seen. Both men were tall, one with dark, long curly hair and the other with light brown, short-combed hair. (Y/n) recognized one of them as Sirius Black, the first person to escape Azkaban prison. The other took her a few seconds to place, it wasn’t until the light hit his face, revealing the scars that she knew it was Remus Lupin, a werewolf known to be heavily against her father.

“Well, isn’t this a treat?” She said, slowly getting to her feet. “A blood-traitor and a half-breed? What did I do to have you grace my presence?” Remus flinched at the mention of half-breed.

“I came down here to see who could possibly have Moody stumped,” Sirius growled, stepping in front of Remus ever so slightly. “Imagine my surprise when I see you’re nothing more than another idiot, too stubborn and ignorant for your own good.”

“I’m the idiot?” (Y/n) laughed. “Am I the one torturing the same person the same 20 ways over and over in the hopes something will give? No, I’m the one who is with-standing it because the consequences of giving in are worse than dealing with a little more pain.”

“What could be worse than everything Moody has put you through?” Remus mused. “He’s told us some of what he’s done, none of which we agreed with. The real reason we’re down here is because we took a vote.”

“A vote?” She took a step back, unsure now of the situation she was in. “A vote for what? Who gets first dibs?”

“What?” Sirius looked taken aback, holding up his hands innocently. “No, we took a vote over if Moody should be down here with you anymore.”

“We decided against it. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.” Remus conjured up a lantern and hung it on the ceiling. “From now on we’re just going to talk.”

“So we’ve moved on from physical torture to psychological, understood.” (Y/n)’s shoulder relaxed slightly. “I can handle that too.”

“No, no, no. I think you’re still not understanding.” Remus smiled, looking at Sirius. “That’s all we’re going to do from now on. Sirius has enlightened us on what you’ve probably grown used to growing up.”

“Enlightened? What would he know about any of that?” she sneered, feeling even more vulnerable than before. Somehow talking seemed more daunting than hours of Cruciatous curses and water-boarding.

“You’re forgetting what family I, regrettably, belong to,” Sirius grumbled, shutting the door. “I have a feeling your upbringing was at least somewhat similar to my own, if not worse. Your father seems to pay you the same amount of care my mother gave me, which is to say nothing unless you are their perfect doll.”

“I don’t know what you could possibly be-”

“Don’t lie, it doesn’t suit you.” Sirius glared at her, arms crossed. “Besides, you can give everyone else the whole “He cares for me, just in a different way” b.s. like you gave Molly, but it won’t work on me. I tried that too, now I realize how bloody wrong I was.”

“Sirius, we came to talk, not to therapise,” Remus warned, putting his hand on Sirius’s chest. “How about we start small, like cornish pixie small?” he glanced at (y/n) almost asking her for permission.

“Right, apologies.” Sirius took a deep breath. “Let’s just start small, right?” Remus dropped his hand and turned back to (y/n).

“I don’t see what actual choice I have,” (Y/n) sat down on top of her sleeping bag, bringing her knees to her chest. “What’s the rules then?”

“No rules, just talk.” Remus once again said, conjuring up some wooden chairs. “Would you like a chair as well, or are you okay there?”

“I’m fine.” (Y/n) watched as the two men sat down. “So, what would you like to talk about? The weather? To me, it seems the same every day to me.”

“Funny,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “But, to be completely honest I haven’t a clue.”

“What’s your favorite color?” Remus asks. “I prefer blue myself.”

“I like gold a lot,” Sirius mutters, still seemingly uninterested in the conversation. “It’s one of the few colors I can see both in my animagus form and human form.”

“It may seem cliche, but I like green.” (Y/n) admits after sitting in silence for a moment. “Not any green though, I enjoy deep greens, phthalo green is a good one, and so is forest green, and juniper.”

“You seem to know quite a bit about different shades of greens, is there any particular reason?” Sirius asked, sitting up more in his chair.

“Not really, it just comes in handy when it comes to potions and herbology.” she shrugged. The three of them were silent for a moment. “So, did either of you ever, um, I don’t know, did either of you ever find a way to sneak into the headmaster’s quarters? Because I did, plenty of times.”

“And you never tried to kill him for your dad?” Sirius seemed confused. “I feel like if you wanted his approval as bad as you seem to, you would’ve, well you know.”

“Answer my question first and then I’ll answer yours.” (Y/n) responded. “Have either of you snuck into Dumbledore’s quarters?”

“I, well, I tried to once, but not while I was still at the school,” Sirius smiled to himself. “It was after I escaped prison. I snuck into the castle looking for Peter and saw a rat head that way. Turned out to be a normal rat.”

“I never really even thought of the idea. I mean, he’s someone I imagine has a lot of security and spells cast around him to protect him from that sort of thing.” Remus admitted. “Your turn, answer Sirius’s question.”

“No, I never tried to kill him.” (Y/n) smirks. “The idea is quite intriguing though. Could you imagine how funny it’d be, if the daughter of the all and powerful Dark Lord, age 13, manages to murder the one person he fears above all else? Besides I liked school.”

“Why did you sneak in then?” Remus prodded, leaning forwards, studying her as she toyed with her fingers. “If not to kill Dumbledore, why bother?”

“To be completely and totally honest? I wanted to be the best at potions, and Dumbledore just so happened to be very close friends with a certain Nicholas Flammel. In order to be able to make a Philosopher’s Stone one would have to excel in both alchemy and potion-making.” she stood up, leaning against the wall. “He had a portrait of him in there, I would sneak in, ask him a million and one questions about potions, and then by the next time I came back I had tested and confirmed what he told me. I took great joy in Snape watching me get better at his own craft than he was.”

Sirius let out a gruff chuckle, which soon became a hollering laugh. Even Remus couldn’t contain himself, joining in with his own chorus of giggles. (Y/n) didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but watching the two of them laugh as hard as they were made her let out a giggle or two. The three of them talked, just talked for a time.

When the knock came at the door (y/n) stiffened, eyeing Sirius as he opened it. Much to her relief, it was Mrs. Weasley bringing dinner along with a small pillow. Sirius thanked her, taking the food from her arms and holding it out to (y/n), offering it to her. She cautiously took it, careful to not get too close as she retreated to her corner of the cell. Mrs. Weasley smiled and held up the pillow.

“It’s not much, but it’s better than what Alastor was giving you.” The older woman set it next to the door. “Whenever you’re ready for it you can grab it. No rush, dear.”

(Y/n) nodded, whispering a small thank you under her breath as Mrs.Weasley left. The soup and bread she had been given more than filled her up. Remus and Sirius continued talking to one another as she ate, everyone now slightly more comfortable with each other.

“I have to admit, she makes good food. Great food actually, Mrs. Malfoy has never been adept in the kitchen department, nor has anyone she’s hired either.” (Y/n) told them, licking the sides of the bowl as she finished her soup. “And as enjoyable as this has been today, I do have a serious question to pose.”

“What question?” Remus asked, stiffening in his seat. Sirius’s eyes seemed to darken as he looked at her as if he was ready to pounce if needed.

“Well, if I’m not to be tortured or forced to divulge any information, what do you expect to do with me then?” setting down the bowl she met their eyes. “You can’t possibly keep me in here forever, but you also can’t just let me out of here either. Which leaves very little option other than killing me or me somehow escaping and taking as many of you with me as I can.”

The men look both shocked and hurt, perhaps a dash of anger in Sirius’s eyes. Neither of them says a thing as they stand up and walk towards the door. (Y/n) smiles at them, pushing their now empty plate and bowl towards them.

“It’s only a matter of time as to which happens first. Personally, I’ve accepted dying in here. No resources will be wasted on a rescue for me, nor will there be anyone to mourn me. I suggest you make the decision soon before I find a way to slaughter the lot of you in your sleep.” she threatens, meeting Remus’s gaze. “Because you were right, Dumbledore does have plenty of security in his quarters, much more so than the barrier spells that get weaker day by day in here.”

~~{𝘌𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘸𝘰}~~

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princesspuffle8 · 7 months ago

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The Unexpected Daughter

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE

Your 4th child with Sirius isn’t really yours, well that is to say that she wasn’t born of you and Sirius, but rather of two people that are related to Sirius. Nevertheless you love her all the same like she was made from both of your flesh and blood.

Her origins though are that of being Bellatrix and her husband Rudolph’s biological child, their second child to be precise. She was discarded and disowned by them as she did not possess any magic, she was a squib. Truth to be told, she was rescued by her aunt Narcissa who found the child severely malnourished and beaten within an inch of her life at the young age of around 5. She’s only a six years younger than Polaris and only two younger than the twins. Even though children can officially control their magic at around age 11, it manifests itself from birth and other witches and wizards can feel the magic of others. Kinda like how you can tell a flame on the stove is hot. When Bellatrix’s daughter was born, there was no such spark and to confirm it Bellatrix made her visit someone with second sight to see into her future, which showed one without magic.

Enraged she took all her hatred and anger out on the child. Choosing to make her into a slave than treat her as a daughter. Narcissa saw this and begged Bella to hand over her parental rights, which her and Rudolphus agreed to as they wanted nothing to do with her. Unfortunately, although Narcissa had compassion for her niece, her husband did not and didn’t want her around him or Draco, and since she hadn’t talked to Andromeda in years she didn’t feel comfortable dropping in and dropping a child on their doorstep.

So that’s when she gave her to you guys. Unfortunately, the girl came to you guys within no name. Thinking that “brat” or “wench” was her name which enraged you both and broke your heart at the same time.

So you and Sirius gave her a name and officially adopted her. The name given to her was Lysithea, Lysithea Artemia Black. Since you were big on meanings for names, as you helped the poor child have a proper bath for probably the first time in years you told her the meaning behind her name. With her nickname being Thea. Lysithea meant delivered by the gods, and you joked (inwardly you were very serious) that she was delivered to you and Sirius by the gods and was your “gift from Artemis” the moon goddess. All the while reassuring her that she was safe her and protected and that no one would ever hurt her again. Upon hearing this, Lysithea broke down into body shaking sobs and as you rocked her back and forth repeating the words that she was safe now and shes gonna be ok.

Lysithea was tiny for her age. Sporting the signature Black family look of long dark black hair and silver grey eyes. She had numerous bruises and cuts and was so malnourished her cheeks were sunken in and hollow, but after she continuous treatment and care under you and Sirius she opened up. To help her recover faster, at your suggestion, you had her see a therapist for children to help her cope with the big changes in her life. And it paid off entirely as she began to open up and be more vulnerable around both you and Sirius.

You and Sirius made a vow to not treat her like an outsider and do everything in your guys power so that she is best acclimated to any environment she chooses to pursue. Be it staying with the wizarding community or going off to explore the muggle world.

That being said, you enrolled her in the best muggle school money could offer as well as any muggle extracurricular activities that she might enjoy. Out of the many she tried, she really loved martial arts and gymnastics. Martial arts so she would never feel defenseless again, which James gave her some enchanted brace knuckles which could dent steal with a single punch and Sirius gave her some heavy duty nun-chucks which were also enchanted as well as a self defense bracelet that was enchanted with lots of protection charms because she was his first baby girl, and he’d be damned if anything happened to her. Never again.

Both of you made it a point to show up to her martial arts meets or gymnastics meets every single time. If both of you couldn’t make it someone from your tribe (Lily, James, Remus, Dorcus, Regulus, Mckenna, Andromeda) would come in y’all’s place. Often times carrying over the top banners and signs to cheer her on loudly.

Now were their times when Lysithea felt insecure about not being able to do magic or depressed because she was a squib? Yes. But Sirius was quick to catch that and had a way with words in able to comfort her.

As for Polaris, Leo, and Regulus they were the most overprotective big brothers ever. Polaris even got in trouble at Hogwarts for knocking the wind out of Delphini (Bellatrix and Rudolph’s not voldemorts) oldest daughter for calling her “ex” sister a filthy squib. And while the school reprimanded him, secretly you sent him a letter saying that you were proud that he stood up for his sister.

As for Leo and Regulus (your son Regulus, let’s call him Andy) from the moment she came to you guys they showered her with gifts. Stuffed animals, sweets, toys, hugs, and just pure genuine affection. Since they were closer in age they told each other lots of secrets, and always reassured her that she was loved so much.

Narcissa also secretly engaged with her too. Sending letters with muggle money tucked into the folds of birthday cards or small packages filled with treats or stuffed animals. It was her way of showing that she still secretly cared.

To Lysithea she was a lucky girl who has two loving parents and three lovable protective older brothers.

#harry potter #headcanon #writing #fanfic #villain #sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x y/n #babies #children #adopted #child abuse #hp marauders #marauders era #bellatrix lestrange #rudopholus #daughter

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rehmes · 2 months ago

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My requests are open! I’m a bit stuck on what to write, so I’m open to most requests rn lol!

#epic the musical x reader #genshin x reader #marvel x reader #deadpool and wolverine #percy jackson x reader #neuvillette x reader #wriothesley x reader #harry potter x reader #draco malfoy x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #Childe x reader #greek mythology x reader #rehmes

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raisethestake · 1 year ago

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OC for 'Hatred?' a Sirius Black story.

A cheeky, light Harry Potter/Percy Jackson crossover.

Purely made this for fun, but in case anyone fancies a weird read what have i got to lose?

Full story here 👇

Early life

She was born to Hope Lupin and Apollo when Remus was in fourth year.

Hope was killed by Greyback and she was bitten. She only survived because she was forced to tap into her healing powers.

She was found by Elric the centaur, who took her back to the herd in the Forbidden Forest.

As she grew, they suspected she had enormous power. Bane contacted Chiron and was told to look after her and train her for the danger that awaited her should she leave the Hogwarts grounds.

She was trained in the centaurian ways of survival and her powers grew in a way no one predicted.

When she was 11, Bane took her to Hogwarts, wary that she needed basic worldly knowledge and to interact with other humans. Dumbledore took her on with a small amount of caution, not wanting conflict with the centaurs.

She did not get the greatest experience out of Hogwarts. She was a wise being, much wiser than her classmates. She was feral and a little intimidating, even to the teachers. Sometimes her powers would burst out a little.

First year

Part-way into first year she gave up pulling her weight in classes she clearly couldn’t do, so dropped Charms and Transfiguration.

She kept on Herbology, Potion and DADA

She was also allowed to take on Astronomy and Divination in first year because Trelawney saw her talent and demanded it.

Second year

She picked up history of magic in second year.

She spent a lot of time with Trelawney, helping to break down her visions.

She left halfway through third year to visit Camp-Half Blood

In this time (15) she meets Charlie in America.

She came back partway through fifth year and managed to get 4 O.W.Ls in Divination, Herbology, Potions and Astronomy.

She had been trained by Hades and his children to incant a few spells without a wand and truly shocked her teachers on her return.

She now wore more practical clothes – more trackies but still looked pretty wild.

Remus

Dumbledore knew she and Remus were related, but had taken a vow of silence and she had already been having dreams prior to their first meeting

She watched him intently in classes, knowing he was the man in her dreams.

One full moon she and Remus attacked each other in the woods.

When they transformed back, they saw who the other was. Despite his protests, she healed his wounds enough for him to get back to the infirmary

The teachers had talked about her “we don’t know what she is, but just watch out, she’s unpredictable.”

He watched her heal him with true curiosity. Despite her reputation as jumpy and intimidating, she had a warm energy.

Having attacked a student, she and a hysterical Remus went to Dumbledore.

After this, she came to check up on Remus after every full moon, tending to his injuries, claiming the hospital wing knew nothing.

“I know how hard it is. Please, if I can, let me take some of the suffering away from you.”

He finally realized. Her scent, it was his mother’s.

Dumbledore confirmed his suspicions.

He tried to awkwardly bring it up until she told him she already knew. They didn’t have much time together before he resigned.

She did N.E.W.Ts in Divination and Herbology in sixth year and finished her education.

Grimmauld Place

She is dating Charlie when she moves in

She sleeps with Sirius and things kick off

She breaks it off just before Charlie gets home and goes to stay at Remus’ for a weekend.

Remus visits Sirius and notes he is as lifeless and depressed as she is. Neither has changed their clothes in weeks.

She continues to see Charlie when he gets back and moves back into Grimmauld Place, all the time sparks still flying between her and Sirius.

Being with Sirius has flattened the excitement in Charlie’s relationship. They sleep together again after she has a dip after a date. It’s so exciting.

She breaks up with Charlie and they feel the same. She stays for tea at the Burrow.

#harry potter #sirius black #sirius black x reader #oc #oc stuff #harry potter fic #sirius black smut #harry potter headcanon #sirius black headcanon #sirius black fanfiction #apollo #apollo cabin #child of apollo #child of apollo headcanon

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sunnami · 10 months ago

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❝i am half-agony, half-hope. . . i have loved none but you.❞

summary: how the marauders loved you in their time. featuring harry potter the time-traveller and sixth-wheel.

pairing/s: poly!marauders + lily x reader.

tags: reader is referred to as she/her and a mother throughout the whole fic[!], reader is a violent gremlin who craves blood but the marauders love you for that, implied child abuse[!], mentions of blood and violence[!], disgustingly sappy poetic fluff, no angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like finnick odair, edited: very minor detail.

note: there is little plot, it’s just the marauders and their adoration for you. thank you all so much for your kind responses to my first marauders fic :(( ilysm! i hope you enjoy this one as well! because there are parts when i was writing that i ended up kicking my feet in the air and smiling to myself.

��MY NAME IS HARRY POTTER. I come from twenty-years in the future, you’re my mum — one of my ‘em, actually. It’s complicated. And you’re married to James Potter, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black.”

You blink.

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

Harry James Potter has dodged many things in his life. Killing curses, jinxes, girls, Draco Malfoy, and Dudley’s sloppy punches, but he’s never had to dodge his sixteen-year-old mother’s fuzzy slipper before. (Godric, that sounds weird, even in his head.) He doesn’t know precisely how he arrived here. In the Slytherin common room, to be exact, in your dorm. Harry remembers duelling with Death Eaters, Hermione calling his name, and a flash of light hitting him square in the chest, then he remembers waking up in the cold tiles of the snake dungeon. He nearly throws himself off the window when he meets your eyes, bleary from interrupted sleep — it’s not often he gets to meet [read: one of] his dead parents, after all, three had been brutally murdered by Voldemort, and one killed by his own loony cousin. He misses Sirius, though. A lot. And right about now, he could do with some of Hermione’s nagging and brilliant plan-making.

At present — or past, Harry guesses — he watches you scramble out from your duvet, hand clumsily reaching for your wand as you snarl at him. He wonders if his mother knows that he’s encountered other creatures far more threatening than her. Oh shit, he realizes with all the forces of an angry Hermione Granger, isn’t this the last thing he’s supposed to do? But, well, Harry has given, and given, so much of himself all for the greater good — just this once, he’d like to see his parents alive and well. Even if they were currently trying to blast him into the walls.

“If you’d just let me explain, mum—!” Harry pleads, nearly dropping his glasses after dodging one of your stinging hexes. Godric, you’re crazy. “Please!”

“Stop calling me that!” You screech, eyes set ablaze. Harry finds that you’re quite dynamic with your attacks. A hairbrush, followed by a stinging jinx, then a thick History of Magic textbook — which rudely hits him in the face, but he doesn’t dare complain because you’re his mother, and he’s respectful like that — and after you’ve exhausted your breath, running him into a corner, and your nostrils flare with the stubbornness of a lion, you point the tip of your wand at him. “If this is another one of the Prewett’s shitty pranks, I want you to leave! You are in the girls’ dormitory beyond midnight, and so help me, if you aren’t walking out that door in the next five seconds, I will kill you and string you up by your bottoms for everyone in school to see! Maybe all your stupid rumours of me being a Death-Eater might come true after all!”

“You’re a Death-Eater?” Harry asks dumbly.

You growl furiously, and Harry figures that was not the right thing to say. “I wonder what McGonagall would say if I delivered your head to her on a silver platter.”

“Professor,” Harry corrects with a toothy grin. “Professor McGonagall.”

You slam his head against the wall.

Definitely the wrong thing to say.

Harry groans, little Dobby heads floating around his vision. Why was this so much harder than actually facing Voldemort? Quick, he needed to think of something, otherwise he’d end up eviscerated to ashes on your cold, stone floors. Harry is pretty sure you’d use his remains as decoration to send off a message to your enemies.

“You hate your father,” Harry slurs through the pain, remembering Remus’s stories of how you were the gentlest magical being he’s ever had the privilege to love — now that Harry thinks about it, Remus was being extremely biased, nothing about you is gentle at all. “He’s forcing you to marry someone old enough to be your grandfather. You love to read Muggle literature but had to stop when your father burnt your whole collection of books. Your favorite novel is Persuasion by Jane Austen. It’s the one book you carry with you everywhere, you could never get tired of it.”

Your grip on his shoulders falters, but the fury in your eyes crackles. “This isn’t funny.”

“It’s not meant to be funny, mum,” Harry croaks, voice cracking pathetically — strange how this is the most he’s ever uttered the word, mum; it’s a peculiar string of letters, foreign on his tongue. “You have tremors in your left leg from when your father cast the Cruciatus curse on you. One of your dearest friends is a Hogwarts house-elf named Pipley. You cheated on your Transfiguration essay once, and—”

“That’s enough!” You bark, eyes narrowed in dangerous slits. “I don’t know where you heard those from, you creepy, little stalker, but if you want to keep breathing, then I suggest you shut up.”

Harry scoffs — you don’t understand. Everything he’s learned about you is from Sirius and Remus. They talk about you with whispered devotion, your name like a prayer on their lips, their eyes glazed with wistfulness as though they could see you reaching out for them — but you were dead in Harry’s time. Yet, you might as well have been alive with their tales of you.

(“She’s a different kind of beautiful,” Sirius had said, a year after breaking out from Azkaban, sitting by the fire in Grimmauld Place, taking a swig of decade-old firewhiskey, “The kind of beautiful you don’t want to take your eyes off from because you’re afraid she’ll disappear from your eyes. But you won’t forget her, oh no, you’ll memorize the freckles and moles on her skin, the scars from her years, the light in her eyes, and the way she holds her head up high. You should have seen her, James, she. . . she was — is glorious.”)

“I told you,” says Harry firmly — although he loves his mother very much, she’s beginning to wear him out, “My name is Harry James Potter, I come from twenty-years in the future. You are one of my parents.” A lightbulb flashes in his head. He squirms in your hold, reaching for his robe pocket until he finds the thing he’s looking for. Harry dangles the ring in front of you, grinning in success when your eyes flash in recognition. “It’s—”

“A family heirloom,” You say breathlessly. The alexandrite winks under the light, a familiar gold band with the Latin inscription of your House words. “Where did you steal this from?”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You left it for me in my Gringotts vault. It’s my heirloom now. You have to believe me, there’s no way you can deny this.”

You take a step backwards, nibbling on your lower lip, as you stagger to your bed — Harry nearly stumbling to catch you in case you fell; adjusting to the living proof of time travel was quite difficult, he, of all people, should know. He exhales, dragging a hand down his face. “Magic, amirite?”

You throw a pillow at him, which he catches gracefully thanks to his Seeker reflexes, as you plop down in the comforts of your quilts. “Sleep. The other girls won’t be back until the end of the holiday. We can deal with whatever this is in the morning. It’s way too early for me to process the idea of a future Potter spawn following me around.”

Harry smiles. “Yes, mum.”

ONE THING THAT his fathers failed to tell him about you, and that Harry had to learn himself, was that you took ages to get ready. You sat on the chair in front of your vanity mirror, the birch wood legs whittled with snakes, and it was as though you had a Sticking Charm on the cushion. Harry didn’t know there could be so many creams, oils, and serums, and powders one put on their face. He blanches when you turn to offer him a cream for his under eyes. (“Suit yourself.” You shrug, turning to brush your cheek with dusts of pink. “Just saying, those dark circles aren’t doing you any favors.”)

“What am I like in the future?” You ask, a kind lilt to your voice, much like a warm hug, much like home.

Harry stiffens, shoving his hands in pockets of the robes that were twice his size — you had given him the garments of Lucius Malfoy to change in, which you apparently had stolen from his room. It’s come full circle, really, the Sorting Hat had once told him he would be great in Slytherin, and now here he was, looking fabulous in green — because he was about to hurl at the feel of the velvet on his skin, knowing slimy Lucius Malfoy had worn it. (“No son—” You pause with a tight purse in your lips, as if you still can’t accept the fact. Harry doesn’t blame you. “—no son of mine will be parading around in red of all colors, future or not.” And Harry finds that he really doesn’t care, so long as you call him your son.)

“Loved,” replies Harry gruffly, avoiding your eyes in the reflection of your mirror — they were piercing. One look and Harry wanted to spill all of his deepest, darkest secrets. He remembers the photographs in his album, the one he’s stared at so many times as a child. It’s a moving photograph of the five of you, fresh out of Hogwarts, each wearing a smile that stretched from ear-to-ear. Before Sirius and Remus, it was the only semblance of proof that Harry had — that you had once been alive. Remus is holding you by the waist in the picture, twirling you around as autumn leaves fell. You were — are — loved, and Harry thinks there’s no better description than that.

(“I bloody hated her cat,” says Remus with a roguish quirk to his lips, regalling Harry with more talks of his parents. “Sirius, too. We just never got along with the little creature. But your mother loved it, and we would have done anything to make her happy. She deserved it, you see. She deserved more than what I had to offer her, but still she chose me anyway. And I am a selfish man, Harry, I crave glimpses of her and the whispers of her voice. She has made me a mad man whose only reprieve is her touch.”)

You hum knowingly. “Stupid question, I guess. Since you aren’t allowed to reveal anything more about the future.” You sigh, gracefully threading your arms in the sleeves of your shirt, a green tie in the center of your collar. “Except, of course, when you gave me a heart attack in the middle of the night by telling me the last thing I want to become — no offense, I just don’t see how a relationship with those rowdy bunch would work. They get on my nerves far too much for me to ever feel anything other than disgust.”

Harry doesn’t need a mirror to see that his expression has contorted in confusion; brows knitted and upper lip crinkled. By their memories of you, you all were madly in love in Hogwarts. Damn. This just made his trip to the past a lot harder. No maze seems to be ever just a maze.

Luckily, you don’t notice him brewing a grand master plan to bring his parents together. Instead, you say, “But you don’t seem to be phased by any of this. If I had been thrown twenty years into the past, I would have puked my guts out twice at some point.”

“Thanks for the image,” says Harry with a scowl. Truthfully, it had either been a present with a noseless Dark Lord to face, trauma to unpack but really never have the chance to, or a past where all of his parents were alive, and a chance to talk with them for however long he has. He knows where he’ll be staying, thank you very much.

“Anytime,” You reply with an impish smile.

Your heels pad across the floor as you walk over to him, mouth clicking as you pat the top of his head, full of wild, untameable Potter hair. “You need a trim soon,” You mutter, frowning, as you brush the thick strands away from his eyes, then you gasp — and Harry knows exactly what’s coming next. “Oh, you’ve got Evans’s eyes. That’s freaky.”

“I know.” Harry grins.

“Here’s the plan,” You say as you lead him out of your room, making sure no one saw him walking out of your door and getting the wrong impression — because that would be so wrong on many levels, but also, explaining to someone else that the person beside you was a time-traveller was just complicated in general. The Slytherin dungeon is unfamiliarly familiar, eerily quiet, as the two of you made your way out. “Just say you’re Potter’s distant relative, twice or thrice removed, and you’ve always been here. If you lie to their faces enough, they’ll believe it eventually.”

“Will that work?” Harry doesn’t really mind — he needs a connection to James, his father, if he’s going to work out a connection between you and the others, because at the moment, it doesn’t seem like you’re too fond of them. There’s a tick on your jaw every time you mumble the word, Potter. Nevertheless, Harry decides he’s going to spend the duration of the holiday break trying to set you up with them — on the list of most insane things he’s ever done, living out the Parent Trap was high up the tally.

You shrug. “They’ve fallen for less.”

(“She’s got this adorable habit when she lies,” Sirius tells Harry, whipping up a stack of pancakes for their breakfast — Remus browsing through the morning paper. It’s the closest he’s ever been to a normal family. “It’s not obvious to her, of course, but I know her more than I know my own name. So we play along with it.” For a moment, he stops drizzling the maple syrup on the well-cooked batter, gazing at Remus fondly. “D’you remember that, Moony? She led us straight to one of her pranks, and we ended up covered in slug slime. She was so obvious — with her adorable fucking giggles. I need help with Charms, she said, and we knew right away it was a set-up. But it didn’t matter. I’d happily let her lead me to my ruin.”)

The Great Hall is the same as Harry remembers. Now that most have returned home for the holidays, those who stay back mingle with students from other Houses, sharing meals under the bewitched ceiling, their low murmurs and hushed Christmas greetings bouncing off the walls. Harry scours the four tables to find a hint of blazing red hair, or the scent of impending trouble. Fortunately, he doesn’t have to search very far. As fate would have it, James Potter finds you — and where he is, Sirius Black is sure to follow.

You’re barely seated when James comes bounding over to your table — more precisely, he struts, and Harry is horrified to ever be proven wrong by Snape, of all people. He ignores the roll of your eyes as he drags a leg over the bench, sitting to face you as Sirius occupies the space to your left before Harry can even sit down. He can’t even fathom how weird it is to see his parents as rambunctious teenagers. Lovesick, rambunctious teenagers.

“Morning, dove.” James preens under your glare, stealing a grape from your bowl with a boyish smirk. His hair looks as though he’s ran his hand through it many times. “You look ravishing today.”

“As always,” Sirius pipes in. “But that eyeshadow really isn’t complementing your skin tone, my darling.”

You smile at him, right before your lips twist into a cutthroat sneer. “Piss off, Black.”

James stifles a laugh as he shovels a mass of potatoes on your plate, then pumpkin pasties, and slides a steaming cup of Dragon Well tea in front of you.

“What the hell are you doing, Potter?” You reach over to smack his arm when he sprinkles apple slices and bacon on your breakfast.

“What does it look like?” James smiles lopsidedly. “You need to eat more, honey.”

(In the future, Sirius will tell Harry, “It started off as a joke, a way to get on her nerves — but then, it just became this thing about taking care of her, making sure she got enough sleep before her tests, wondering if she had breakfast or dinner, staying with her in the library, walking her to the Slytherin common room, and sending her stupid notes just to make her laugh. You don’t get it, Harry. I’d give my every breath to ensure her life. We all would.” Harry doesn’t see Sirius any more during that evening, but he hears a bottle crashing against a wall, cracking into a million pieces, and the masked sound of Sirius sobbing, and Harry decides to leave him alone for the night.)

Then, you tear your eyes away from James — he huffs, pushing your plate to you, mildly annoyed that you’ve deprived him of your eyes; they were his favorite part of you, you see, so expressive and full of life; James thinks you put the stars to shame — and thankfully, you remember that Harry still exists. You lightly smack Sirius’s leg until he gives Harry some room to sit. “Potter, meet other Potter. It’s the holidays, shouldn’t it be the perfect time to let go of House prejudices and spend time with family?”

James looks at Harry up and down. “You must be from dad’s side of the family with all that hair.”

Harry lets out a breath of relief. That was easy — way too easy. When he takes the vacant space in between you and Sirius, you dump all the available food on his plate, just as James had done for you.

“Eat,” You say with a tone of finality. “You look like the wind could snap you in half.”

“Yes, m—” Harry stops himself before he could finish his sentence, avoiding Sirius’s curious gaze.

“Wow.” Sirius pokes Harry in the shoulder and in the cheek. “You really look like a mini-James, you’ve even got his terrible eyesight.”

“Oi!”

Your fork clatters against the silverware as you turn to Sirius with a shrill. “Not that I do enjoy your company — because, trust me, I do not want you here at all and would very much prefer if you got out of my sight — but why are you here? The Gryffindor table is over there. Unless your housemates finally got sick of you, Potter, which I can definitely see happening.”

James chuckles, tossing another grape in his mouth without taking his eyes off you. “It’s as you said, isn’t it? It’s the time for putting aside House prejudices. And I think it’s a lovely day to enjoy a meal with my favorite snake.”

“Drop dead,” You retort, digging into your chicken with a little more force than necessary.

“Oh, dove.” James shakes his head, a teasing grin pulling at his lips. “It’s cute that you think death will keep me from you.”

(Harry’s been told before, probably by Sirius, that this line had been wedged into his wedding vows for you. “A dramatic one, James was,” Sirius chuckles to himself one morning, Harry and Hermione listening intently, “He always said he’d rather die than ever hurt her. There was this time in seventh year, they had a fight — it was ugly — and she had ignored him for a week. James cried in Remus’s arms begging him to cut his heart out, saying that he didn’t deserve to keep on breathing, not after making you cry.”)

“That is so creepy,” You say in disgust, scrunching your nose. Sirius chortles at your side. “I still wonder why Evans agreed to go out with you.”

“It’s all part of the charm, dove.” James winks. “It’s all part of the charm.”

Harry wants to barf, actually.

After breakfast, James then decides to introduce Harry to Lily, Remus, and Peter. (He’s gonna need the patience of a saint to not Avada Kedavra that rat on the spot.) Harry had spent the whole morning watching Sirius peel oranges and give them to you with a smitten look in his eyes — naturally, you gave whatever Sirius offered you to Harry, and each time Padfoot would visibly wilt. If he were in his Animagus form, Harry thinks he would be whining by now, tongue out and all. James and Sirius follow after you like lost puppies when you extricate yourself from the table.

“Where are you going?” James calls, hot on your heels as you leave the Great Hall.

“Away from you, Potter!”

And James actually sighs when you turn the corner and disappear from their peripheral vision. Seconds later, he turns to Harry with a blinding smile, “She’s definitely charmed.”

Harry chortles.

“Well, come on then!” James guffaws as he wraps an arm around Harry’s neck — this is so, so strange. They begin walking in the opposite direction of where you went. “I still can’t believe we’ve got another Potter here and in Slytherin. I think I would have remembered Minnie calling your name during the Sorting Ceremony. What year are you in?”

He’s supposed to start his sixth-year in a few weeks. “Fifth.” Technically.

“We should ask Lily,” says Sirius, hands in his pockets and ebony ringlets tickling his nape. “She’s got the best memory out of all of us.”

It’s odd, Harry thinks, meeting the person who’s got his eyes — or the other way around, as people have told him. It’s like someone carved out the emeralds of Lily Evans’s eyes and bestowed it upon Harry for safekeeping. She sits beside Remus Lupin, head resting on his shoulder, hands clasped together, as they enjoy the shade. Nex to them, oblivious to their intimate conversation, is Peter Pettigrew — with his rosy, cherub cheeks and innocent blue eyes; not at all the image of a pathological, cowardly liar. Their heads snap in attention as James boisterously cries for their name.

“Marauders — and Lily-pad — meet ickle Potter.” James lightheartedly whacks Harry on the back, to which Harry feels his lungs spill out from his mouth, he’s sure there’s an imprint of his father’s hand on his back now.

“There’s two Potters in Hogwarts?” Sea-green eyes look at him in scrutiny as Lily knits her brows. “How even is the castle still standing?”

James cackles like it’s the best joke he’s ever heard in his entire life, slapping his knee for dramatic effect. Oh, well, at least they’re buying Harry’s half-baked lie. At this point, it’s not even baked, it’s just wet, soggy, and poorly done. “Good one, Lily-pad!”

Sirius ruffles Remus’s shaggy blonde hair, canines bared in a wide grin. “This one here’s Moony, uptight prefect in the morning and absolute beast in the evening.”

Harry blanches. Surely he was talking about his furry problem, right? Right?

Remus doesn’t even flinch, just peels off Sirius’s hand from him and extends his hand out to Harry. “Please do not mind him. Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Although, I can’t believe this is the first time we’ve met. We would have definitely remembered if we had another Potter in our midst.”

“It’s true, we Potters are just hard to forget,” says James, smiling cheekily.

Harry pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue. “Mum didn’t take the Potter name. I’m part Dursley. Muggle.”

Lily hums, toying at the ends of her bright hair. “Dursley, huh? What a familiar name.”

“It’s a common one,” Harry assures her — not at all the names of the people who would take him in after they died. And make his life miserable.

“I suppose you’re right,” says Lily, unconvinced.

“And this is Peter.” James introduces the boy eagerly, pride in his voice — as though this isn’t the person who literally allies himself with Voldemort. As if Peter won’t betray his friends all because of fear.

“N–Nice to meet you,” Peter stammers with a nervous fidget, “Any family of James is a friend of ours.”

Harry’s eye twitches.

IT IS ALMOST COMICAL — the way their eyes land on your figure, bursting through the courtyard from the corridors, winter cloak swishing with every step, tendrils of hair swaying in the crisp wind, and head held up high, thick books under your arms. You pause in front of the Marauders, face blank, then you turn to Peter, greeting him with a: “Hello, only Gryffindor I can tolerate.”

Peter’s cheeks burn a saccharine hue of pink. Oh, no, no, no — absolutely not — Harry will not stand for a little crush Peter Pettigrew has on his mother. He needs James to act now. “Hi,” Peter replies shyly.

Lily quirks her lips. “Hello, princess, see your score for the Astronomy test yet?”

You scowl. “Zip it, Evans.”

The sound of Lily’s laughter fills the atmosphere — it’s the sort of melody that makes flowers bloom in deserts. “Had a bit of difficulty with the star charts?”

Sirius pinches your cheek — Harry thinks you’re going to murder him on the spot. “Difficulty? I think this one just slept through the whole thing.”

James snickers. “Must have been one hell of a nap, princess. You were drooling on my jumper.”

“I most certainly do not drool!” You gasp, appalled, eyes wide as you step away from Sirius.

Sirius rolls his eyes. “What? Is drooling too barbaric for the pretty, little pure-blooded princess now? Newsflash, pet, you’re just as human as we are.”

“Oh, you horrible, loathsome, infuriating—” You whip around to beat his chest with the course book in your grasp — it’s the kind of book Hermione would consider for light reading.

“Irresistibly attractive—?” Sirius supplies for you, grin widening with as he captures your wrist with his hands.

“In your dreams!” You shrill.

You exhale slowly, eyes closing, chest rising when you take a sharp inhale. You open your eyes and stare straight at Harry — for a moment he fears that you’ll bite his head off. “Harry, dear, will you accompany me to the library? I think I’ve found something important regarding your situation.”

Harry nods. “Is it time already?”

“Yes,” You say firmly. “And time is of the essence. Come on.”

“Wait!” Lily calls out to you as you turn to head back to the castle, Harry in tow — he tries to avoid the way James is glaring at your linked arms. “Hogsmeade next week?”

Your jaw falls to the ground — this must have been unrehearsed, if the others’ reactions were anything to go by; Remus had dropped his book in shock, Sirius looked like he couldn’t decide between applauding Lily’s bravery or shaking her, and James was somehow frozen in time. “Excuse me?”

“You’re excused, princess,” says Lily, dimples poking out of her cheek as she takes another step towards you. “You, me, Hogsmeade. A date. I’m sure you’ve gone on one of those before.”

Harry elbows your stomach as you stare at Lily in shock. It takes a few moments to break you out of your stupor. “A–And what makes you think I’ll just go with you?”

Lily shrugs. “I’m fit. Aren’t I, Remus?”

“The fittest,” says Remus without missing a beat.

You laugh incredulously. “Do you just expect me to go along with this? You’re mad, Evans.”

Harry glares at you. You need to go along with this.

“Are you scared, princess?” Lily’s face is inches away from yours, noses almost touching — Harry doesn’t know if he should keep watching this painful way of flirting — as she grins at you, happiness barely contained within her eyes.

To your credit, you don’t back down. (Harry has to say this for the masses: he saw your gaze flitter down to Lily’s lips for a split second.) “Stop calling me that, Evans.”

“One date, then.”

You growl in exasperation, eyes flickering to the boys behind her back — pretending not to hear their conversation. “I suppose I’ll have to deal with them as well?”

Lily beams and Harry swears sunflowers could grow in her direction. “We’re a package deal.”

“Unfortunately,” You utter — but Harry notices it, the lack of venom in your voice. You straighten your posture, nose lifted haughtily, “I choose where we’re going.”

“Done.” The sun peeks out from the cloud just as Lily smiles at you.

“And I want to—”

“Done,” Remus interjects raspily, peering up at you from underneath his lashes. “Anything you want, it’s yours.”

You fight a growing smile, but continue, “If we’re going out in public, you’re going to have to wear—”

“Done,” says James giddily, he looks as though he could kiss you in front of everyone without a care in the world.

“You can’t just agree to anything I say!” You flap your arms in frustration.

“Yes, dear,” Sirius teases.

“Do you know how much you piss me off, Black?” You squawk. “Because you are this close to—”

“You are so fucking beautiful,” Sirius confesses, every pretense shed raw from his skin, sincerity pouring from his words.

“I—” You falter, heat rushing to your cheeks. “You’ve gone mad.”

“It’s your fault, dove,” says James, eyes twinkling like crescent moons as he smiles. “You best take accountability for this.”

“You’re incorrigible — all of you,” You say as you avoid their gazes.

(But they were yours. Past, present, and future. They loved you so much that their soul was no longer their own — it was yours; yours to keep, yours to break, and yours to love. It would be unjust to ask them why they loved you. Do we ask why the sun rises each day without rest? Do we ask a daisy to stop blooming, or a tree to stop growing after it has endured storms and floods? After all, we do not ask why humans follow the light in a tunnel shrouded in darkness.)

“Come on, Harry, let’s go.” You reach for his hand, he notices immediately that the tips of your ears are pink, and your palms are warm with sweat. He barely sees Peter wave goodbye before you tug him in the direction of the castle entrance.

“Wait up!” Remus catches up to you two in quick strides, offering to carry your books for you — not that you agree, stubborn Slytherin that you are. “I’ll walk you to the library.”

“There’s no need for that, Lupin, thank you.” You dodge his eyes, lips tightly pressed together, nails slightly digging into Harry’s arm.

“Remus,” He says with a twinkle. “Call me Remus.”

“Alright.” You pause. “Remus.”

(In that moment, Remus wonders if you remember decking Lucius Malfoy in the face to defend him in your fourth year. He didn’t think he deserved to even breathe in the same air as you — the pure-blooded princess, dressed in clothing worth more than his life, adorned in jewelry he could only dream to afford, raised to believe she was better than everyone else. Then, you beat up Evan Rosier the next month in the courtyard, eyes ablaze, extravagant silk marred with grass stains and mud, and knuckles split open. You spit blood on the ground, looking at Lily then back at Rosier. “Red,” You say, kicking him one last time in the stomach, unafraid of McGonagall’s wrath growing louder and louder. “Just like everyone else. Like those Muggleborns you fear. We’ve all got dirty blood, Rosier. Suck it up.”

“I’ll tell your father about this!” Rosier bellows through bloody teeth.

“Tell him!” You grab his neck and slam your forehead against his. “Tell him that I decide my own future now!”

Remus doesn’t even have to think about it.

He falls in love.)

FUNNILY ENOUGH, IT’S LILY who gives you her heart first, before anyone else does. It’s the last month of her first year at Hogwarts — it still hasn’t quite sunk in yet that she was a witch. Her, not Petunia, but her — Lily Evans, the witch. Apparently, some people can’t believe it either. A girl from Ravenclaw calls her this foul word, she’s heard it a few times now but it always hurts the same. James and Sirius get into a fight for her honor, now faced with detention later this evening. But she can’t help but wonder, what if they were right? What if she really didn’t belong in this world? It was too good to be true, anyway. Perhaps she’ll just run a flower boutique with Petunia.

“Oi.”

The sound of your voice startles her, and she nearly topples over in the Great Lake. Lily catches sight of your Slytherin colors and resigns herself to another round of name-calling. “What do you want?”

“They’re wrong, you know,” You tell her, ignoring Lily’s question. You look down on her with your nose raised arrogantly — she wishes she could be like you. Born to be magic. “You’ve got a terrifying brain locked up in your head there, Evans. And they know it, too. They’re scared.”

Lily scoffs. “I’m just a Mudblood to them. There’s nothing to be intimidated by.”

You sneer. “Don’t say that word. You’re more than that. More than them. They’ve got long ways to go to prove they have a place in this world. But you — you’ve defied the odds and you were destined to become magic. You don’t have to prove anything. You have the right to be in the wizarding world and no one can take that away from you.”

Then, you pivot on your heels, not bothering to hear her reply. “You’re my rival now, Evans. Do keep up. We’ve got an Astronomy test tomorrow. I look forward to seeing how you do then.”

Lily just gapes. She’s certain there’s butterflies in her stomach. Her heart thumps wildly against her ribcage. Lily raises her hands to feel her blushing cheeks. There’s a light unfamiliar sensation in her stomach — like the urge to kick her legs and scream into a pillow, or more precisely, chase after you and hold your hand.

She stiffens.

Oh.

part two

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

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myjealouseyes · 8 months ago

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Drabble request from 🦄 anon: Regulus teaches Wolfstar!daughter how to ballroom dance.

A/n — French translations from DeepL app so if anyone realizes something is off tell me and I’ll change it!

Send me a request here.

“C'est bon, essayons encore une fois, chère nièce.“

Regulus is endlessly patient with you, even as you step on his feet every two seconds. At seven years old, ballroom dancing is much harder than you thought it would be. You’d never had to practice so much coordination before! And it was hard to remember when you were supposed to turn. But you’re not so worried. Your uncle Regulus says that it’ll get easier as you learn more and you were very eager to do so.

“One two three, one two three, one two three, switch. one two three, one two three, one two three, switch. one two three, one two three, one two three, turn! Bon travail!” You smile happily as you remember to switch directions almost seamlessly. You don’t notice how you were late on the turn or how you stumbled a little on your second switch. Regulus doesn’t point it out either as you bounce on your toes happily. Just as he’s about to suggest a break and a victory snack a soft knock sounds on the wall of the ballroom.

You turn quickly to see your dad standing there. From the way Sirius is smiling, Regulus knows he saw everything. However surprisingly; it doesn’t embarrass him. If there had to be two people he let his cold facade slip in front of he’d rather it be his brother and niece. You squeal and run up to him quickly. He catches you just in time. “Papa! Did you see me?! I danced like a real princess!” Sirius’s grin holds nothing but fondness as he answers. “I did! You were like a princess! A very graceful one!” He ruffles your hair to get a laugh out of you and of course, it works. He looks back up at his younger brother, his smile still present; only softer. He gives him an appreciative nod. Both of them know it means more than that though. They aren’t ready to say it out loud, so Regulus just nods back.

“Papa, Uncle Reggie has chocolate croissants,” you say in a voice very serious for a seven-year-old. “Can we have some?” Sirius debates; knowing he probably shouldn’t allow you to spoil the dinner you’ll have in a few hours. “One,” He settles. And you’ll have extra veggies at dinner time.” You furrow your eyebrows, seemingly thinking about his proposition. “Okay, deal. Come on uncle Reggie! Snack time!” Sirius puts you down and you run ahead to the kitchen. The two men follow behind you, affection and amusement clear on there faces.

#writing child wolfstar!daughter heals me tbh.#wolfstar!daughter literally helps mend Sirius and Regulus’s relationship without knowing it.#wolfstar!daughter!reader #sirius black x daughter!reader #wolfstar!daughter #sirius x daughter!reader #wolfstar x wolfstar!daughter #wolfstar x child!reader #Sirius Black x child!reader #wolfstar x daughter reader #wolfstar x daughter!reader #Sirius black x platonic!reader #regulus black x niece!reader #regulus black x child!reader #Regulus Black x platonic!reader #hp x reader

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ellecdc · 9 months ago

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HIII, I wanted to know if I could request a poly marauders x festy slytherin reader.Something of how they started or whatever you have inspiration for.I would love another part of that, if you feel up to it. Hope you are taking care of yourself <3

feisty/slytherin reader x poly!marauders is actually my favourite thing to write (followed closely by any ship with whimsical reader) so I was more than happy to whip this up for you! Thanks for requesting! 🫶

poly!marauders x feisty, fem, Slytherin!reader

p1 // p2 // p3

CW: werewolf prejudice, making fun of possible birth defects due to Pureblood's being terribly inbred, swearing

Remus felt that generally, he was a very understanding person. And not just in a compassionate way, but also in a sense that he just understands a lot of things.

He understands Sirius’ need to defy his family whilst simultaneously looking after his brother as if his life depended on it.

He understands James’ need to make sure everyone around him feels as loved as humanly possible, even if it’s at his own expense.

He understands that Gryffindor’s hate Slytherin’s, but he also understands that not all Slytherin’s are horrible, prejudiced racists.

He understands everyone makes fun of Hufflepuffs for being soft and emotional, but he also understands that Hufflepuffs can be some of the most heartless, ruthless friends you can have.

What Remus has had a hard time understanding, however, was his boyfriends’ sudden interest in you.

Remus could admit that you were quite attractive, but you were also sort of…terrifying?

“What have you boys done?” Lily murmured in quiet horror (quiet awe if you asked James).

“We pranked Slytherin!” Sirius said jovially, as if Lily had somehow missed that key piece of information.

“I can see that, Sirius.” She said like one might speak to a small child who was quite dumb. “But on portrait day?”

Sirius smiled smugly as he watched Slytherin’s enter the Great Hall for their school portraits. As they passed through the door, they were unknowingly walking under a charmed mistletoe (which was very difficult to find this time of year, thanks James very much) which turned their green and silver robes and ties to a beautiful red and gold.

The best part is some students still hadn’t noticed yet, and another amazing part was that those who had noticed couldn’t figure out how to turn it back.

“Mr. Black, Mr. Potter, Mr. Pettigrew, and Mr. Lupin. I suppose the four of you have no idea who may be behind this prank?” Professor McGonagall challenged as she looked down her nose at them sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Sirius smirked as he responded “Why, not a clue Minnie. But I’ll keep my eye out and let you know if I see any mischief makers.”

McGonagall let out a long suffering sigh as she took five points from Gryffindor for improper address of a professor.

“You rotten dugbogs.” Remus heard you screech before he saw you. He had the good sense to cringe as you stormed up to their table whilst Sirius and James grinned enthusiastically.

“Why hello Y/N, my beautiful angel.” James greeted as Sirius let out a sultry “Don’t you just look smashing in red.” Accompanied by a wink.

“I don’t know what you sods have done, and quite frankly, I don’t care about the rest of them; but you will fix this.” You spat angrily gesturing to your faux Gryffindor uniform.

“But that would be such a crime, dollface.” Sirius lamented.

“You can’t expect us to mess with perfection.” James added.

You shot your hand out and grabbed James’ collar, pulling his face to yours until your noses were nearly touching.

“I swear to Salazar himself, Potter, if you do not change my robes back, I will cut your dick off and charm it to your forehead so you walk around looking like a limp-dick unicorn. Change. It. Back.”

Your voice was low and threatening, and Peter actually gulped as he hid behind Remus. But looking at James’ face pressed up to yours, you would have thought you had just serenaded him with the greatest love song known to man.

“You have such beautiful eyes.” He murmured in awe. Remus was certain he could see steam forming behind said beautiful eyes, but before it could shoot out of your ears, Sirius came to your rescue.

“Very right, Prongs. She does have beautiful eyes. Unfortunately, I believe her usual green does compliment them better than the red.” Sirius said lasciviously as he cast the counter charm to return your robes to their rightful colour.

You looked down at your form before looking back at the boys skeptically. You seemed only then to realize you were still holding onto James’ collar like a vice and dropped it. Remus almost chuckled at the look of loss that crossed James’ face.

“Right.” You said and cleared your throat, backing away from them as if you weren't fully trusting what just happened. “Thank you.”

Sirius’ head actually reared back in surprise at your thanks and James beamed.

“Anytime angel, truly.”

James’ pet name seemed to snap you out of whatever trance you’d been in as you narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t call me that.”

“Terribly sorry, my love.” He relented.

You groaned in exasperation and carried on towards the Slytherin table.

“Isn’t she lovely?” James whispered in awe, eyes still glued to your form as you bodily shoved Evan Rosier out of what Remus could only assume you had dubbed as your seat at the Slytherin table and sat down.

“Try bloody terrifying.” Peter shivered in horror as he finally extricated himself from behind Remus.

“Oi! Don’t talk about our future missus that way, Wormy.” Sirius squawked and swatted at the poor sod with his copy of the Daily Prophet.

“Is he wrong, though?” Remus asked as he let out his own breath of relief.

“Don ‘t worry moons,” James murmured into Remus’ cheek as he pressed his nose into the werewolf’s hair line. “She’ll win you over soon.”

Remus wasn’t so sure.

You were the only Slytherin photographed in proper uniform that day.

A few weeks later found Remus sitting horrifyingly uncomfortable in Defense Against the Dark Arts as they moved on to the unit featuring Werewolves.

James sat on his right, and though the shaking of his knee under the table gave away his nerves, he spent the entire class rubbing soothing circles along the back of Remus’ hand with his thumb.

Sirius, sitting on Remus’ left, was incredibly stiff and clearly poised to fight if given the chance which did nothing to ease Remus’ discomfort. It also didn’t help that they shared this period with the 6th and 7th year Slytherin’s.

He just wanted this day to be over.

“Why are we even talking about this?” Mulciber sneered, interrupting the professor as they discussed elements of the Wolfsbane potion.

“What is your question, Mr. Mulciber?” The professor drawled out in a bored tone.

“Why bother discussing werewolves? The lot of them should be culled anyway; euthanize them on site for all I care.” He spat, earning snickers from Avery, Goyle, and Snape.

Sirius sucked in a breath in preparation of a verbal (and possibly physical, should he be so lucky) spar when Remus dug his nails into Sirius’ thigh. “Please, Pads.” He begged quietly; voice taught with emotions.

Sirius let out a pained sigh and leaned back further into his chair.

“Funny, Mulciber.” A bored tone commented, “I was just thinking the same about you and your lot.”

Remus, James, and Sirius all turned to see the majority of the eyes in the room already on you, though you never bothered lifting your head from your textbook.

“Care to repeat that, L/N?” Mulciber sneered, sitting up in his chair as if ready to lunge at you if necessary.

You lifted your bored gaze from your book and stared at him head on. “Do I need to repeat myself, Mulciber? Mummy and daddy kept it too close in the family tree, huh?” You murmured in faux sympathy. “I was just thinking, most of the Sacred Twenty-Eight ought to be culled. That would save the wizarding world a whole lot of trouble.”

“How dare you compare me to some filthy half-breed. My family is royalty compared to those disgusting creatures.” Avery shouted.

“The only one acting like a disgusting creature here is the likes of you tossers.” You shouted back.

“Alright.” The professor tried (not very hard, albeit) to quell the quickly spiralling discussion.

“I could hardly look at myself in a mirror if I’d been tainted with a curse like lycanthropy.” Snape sneered, pointedly facing the Marauders across the room. Sirius burned with shame and protectiveness, being the reason Snape knew Remus’ secret and the overwhelming need to defend his lover. Remus took that moment to dig his nails into Sirius' thigh again, pinning him to his seat.

“Are you sure, Snape? Are you sure you wouldn’t rather live a life with lycanthropy than have to look at that mug of yours in the mirror every day.” You drawled.

“You insolent little bitch.”

“Hey!” James finally shouted from across the room, far more stern than Remus can ever remember seeing the boy. But you carried on, completely undeterred.

“I’d bet ten thousand galleons that not one werewolf ever asked to be a werewolf, yet you wake up each and every morning actively choosing to be the ugliest, most hateful, vile, disgusting beasts known to mankind. That is what is despicable. That is what should be euthanized on site.” Your voice grew louder and louder with each word until you were standing behind your desk and punctuating each word with a slam of your fist against the table in front of you.

“Alright, that’s enough.” The professor finally called; tone booming across the lecture hall intoning no nonsense.

“Mr. Mulciber, Mr. Snape, and Miss. L/N. Detention with me this evening.”

The Slytherin boys all scoffed and cursed under their breath whilst you offered a bored shrug of your shoulders, returning to your textbook as though this was just a run of the mill day for you.

The boys had been absolutely right; you just won over the affections of one Remus John Lupin.

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wastingmylifesecondatatime · 4 months ago

Text

UPDATE: 29.07.2024

NOTE: You can find other masterlists in my mother masterlist

I have updated the following masterlists:

Maurauders Era Masterlist - Series

Marauders Era Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Genshin Impact Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

Criminal Minds Masterlist - One Shots/Drabbles

OT7 Masterlist - One-Shots/Drabbles

Avengers Masterlist - Series

Avatar: The Last Airbender Masterlist - Zuko - One Shots/Drabbles

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remuslupinsdaughter · 10 months ago

Text

New Masterlist

Here’s where you’ll find everything I’ve written 🙂

Marvel

Natasha Romanoff

The winterwidows child

Bucky Barnes

The winterwidows child

Frank castle

Protect her

Part one part two part three part four

Criminal minds

Miss momma

Will LaMontagne Jr

Miss momma

Derek Morgan

Suspended

Hospital stays and side effects

Aaron Hotchner

All too much

Hiding from school

Sons of anarchy

Protection

Part one part two part three

Happy Lowmann

Harley Lowmann

Part one Part two

Bloody hands

Mayans M.C.

Angel Reyes

Daddy’s girl

Harry Potter

Remus Lupin

Scared me

Nightmares

Under the weather

Not good enough

Dad Remus headcannons

Christmas

Scared of the bad man

Sirius Black

Nightmares

As long as you need

Scared of the bad man

The Walking Dead

Negan

Scraped knees and kisses better

Peaky Blinders

Tommy Shelby

Molly Shelby

Part one Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six

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moonstruckme · 5 months ago

Note

hi mae:) would you be willing to write a sirius x reader fic where reader just gets hammered and spills all of her family trauma to sirius? like, she’s no longer in that environment because she moved out but they were just really mean and terrible to her and she’s never told sirius but then she finally does and he’s just like “poor baby, let me tell you all of the love and reassurance you never got as a child:(“

Thanks for requesting lovely <3

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 634 words

You worry you’ve traumatized your boyfriend.

Sirius has you tucked firmly under his chin, both arms squishing you to his front, and you’re not sure if the rocking is for you or him or possibly both.

“Sirius,” you murmur, some of the vowels lost due to your malfunctioning tongue. “Baby, m’sorry.”

“What’re you sorry for?” Your boyfriend’s voice sounds thin. He’s had a bit less to drink than you, but his words still sound like they’re written in cursive, strung together by thick emotion. “You haven’t done anything wrong.”

You sigh. It feels nice, being cocooned in his warmth like this. He’s squeezing you just tight enough to be comfortable, and he smells more like himself than like rum. Your next inhale, you focus on it. Clove and nighttime.

“I shouldn’t’ve dumped on you like this,” you admit.

“Yes you should have.” Sirius’ lips press firmly to the top of your head. “Sweetheart, I only wish you’d told me sooner. Why didn’t you?”

His sympathy is bringing you dangerously close to tears again. Your first wave has only just dried. “Because I know it’s a lot,” you say, attempting to swallow the blockage in your throat. “S’not like you don’t have your own family shit to deal with. And anyway, I moved out.”

“Baby.” Sirius sounds devastated. “I don’t care what shit I have, it doesn’t mean I don’t wanna hear about yours, too. I always do.” His fingers bunch in the fabric of your top, short nails scratching lightly against the skin underneath. “And I know better than fucking anyone that moving out helps, but it doesn’t fix everything. It can—you can still hurt.”

Where Sirius’ chin touches your forehead, you feel a hot tear drip onto your skin. A pained sound slips from your throat as you pull away from him, taking his face between your hands.

And you’d expected him to look upset, mournful even, but Sirius looks livid. Every sharp angle of his beautiful face is wrathful, silent tears gleaming on his cheeks and dark brows lowered over stormcloud eyes. His hands stay bunched in your top as if he means to keep you tethered to him by sheer force of will.

“You’re good,” he tells you, voice quavering with conviction. “You’re lovely, and kind, and more than enough. Got it?”

“Siri,” you whisper, brushing some of the wetness from his cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not,” he insists. Some of the harshness has waned from his expression, though, under your gentle touch. “Nobody should ev—” His voice splinters, and Sirius looks frustrated with himself. You want to roll the both of you up in the comforter of your bed and never come out. “Should ever treat their kid that way,” he finishes. He looks you in your eyes, fierce in his earnestness. “I’m gonna love you so hard those fuckers will regret not giving it to you sooner.”

Though you try to stop it, a corner of your mouth tips up. “I love you, too, baby. You can love me as hard as you want.”

“Oh, fuck you.” He cracks a smile at your salacious tone. You stop trying to hold back the rest of your grin, and he grabs your face in both hands, smashing his lips to yours.

The kiss is firm but not harsh, so fond it makes your heart feel like a bruise. Sirius moves to your forehead next.

“My baby,” he says against your skin, both amused and ardent. Drops his forehead to yours. “I’m gonna make up for it. I’m gonna give you everything you never got back then. Do you have any idea how much I love you, sweet thing?”

“I love you, too,” you promise him, pushing against his forehead lightly with your own. “Don’t worry, you already make up for everything.”

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liv-does-stuff · 9 months ago

Text

As promised here’s the narrative! I want to preface a few things before you begin reading, 1. I wrote this for a school project and I only had a day to complete it. 2.

Since it was school related it sounds somewhat middle schoolish 3. Towards the end I began to lose creativity because I was tired. Due to all of these setbacks I’m planning on making a longer version with every chapter in more deatail. I hope you enjoy this please make sure to leave feedback!

“The Brightness of Shadows”

Delano. That was his name. I asked him what it meant once and he told me it was french for darkness and mystery. I had laughed at the time thinking it was just philisophical nonsense, but after he left it made painful sense. It was dark when I met him. The chill of the September wind kissed my skin. I was standing on the pier of Venice Beach studying the constellations as I lit a Malboro cigarette. That’s when he approached me.

“Got a light?” He was tall and slender, his shoulder length black hair framed his face, but he restrained a few pieces of it in a small bun resting on the back of his head. I should have probably been worried a strange man was approaching me on a practically empty landing, but I was entranced. I nodded and brought the lighter to his mouth and illuminated the cigarette, watching the flames dance between his lips.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He took a drag.

“Hm?” My eyes raised in question. He looked at me with an amused smile before clicking his tongue.

“Is there a reason your standing on an old pier looking melodramatic at nearly midnight or is it for the aesthetic?” He had a point, but I still rolled my eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep. My apartment isn’t far from here and I find that the sea calms me.” I folded my arms against the wood.

“Huh,” he hummed, “I never really cared for the ocean. That was always my brother’s forte.”

“Then why are you here?” I cocked my head a little.

“It reminds me of home.” He let out a small sigh as a cloud of smoke vanished into the stars. We talked for a while about virtually nothing until he decided to come with me that night. And almost every night after. For 4 months we spent time in my one room apartment listening to Bowie and The Beatles, talking about our past, and staying up far too late. In those months I learned a lot about his family. His brother was lost at sea, his second brother was a pilot who he didn’t see much, and in a nicer way than he had said his parents were dead. He was beautiful. He was a man I could see myself loving. A man I did love. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him…that was until I found out of course. Laying on the queen sized bed in the corner of my room I decided to tell him. I had found out the day before I was pregnant, I didn’t expect him to be ecstatic, but never in a million years did I expect to have the conversation we did. The conversation that ruined my life.

“I need to tell you something.” I smiled and turned my head to face him the sound of Diamond Dogs fading into the distance.

“Hm?” He smiled as he ran his fingers through my hair.

I took a deep breath, “I’m pregnant.”

“What!?” He sat up suddenly and pinched the bridge of his nose, “What do you mean?”

“I mean I’m having your baby?” I said getting up to sit by him. This seemed to make things worse. He stood up and began pacing.

“No no no. Vega Please no.” He looked livid, “This wasn’t supposed to happen, Jesus this can’t happen.” He’s married. That was the only rational explanation in my mind.

“Yeah I’d be scared too. I wonder how you’re girlfriend ,wife, or whatever she is will react when she finds out you’ve been messing around with another girl!” I accused with rage.

He paused picking up his head and tilting it slightly, “What?” His tone was much softer.

“You’re scared because you have another woman waiting for you at home.” I said bluntly.

“What? No Vega, no that’s not why.” He said running his hands through his hair.

“Then what’s your reason, because I’m curious why you look like you’re 5 seconds away from sending me child support every month.?” I crossed my arms to guard myself.

“You won’t believe me.” He said with a frown.

“Try me,” I raised an eyebrow.

“Okay God where do I start? I’m not- I,” He struggled with the words, “I’m not actually human. I know you’re going to laugh, but my true name is Hades”

I stared at him for a minute before laughing with fury, “Oh my God you’re crazy.”

“I knew you would think I’m insane. Look the Gods are real and I am one. We can change form and sneak around with mortals. The only issue is me and my brothers made a pact to not have kids or else their lives would be hell.”

“So let me get this straight you’re brothers are Zeus and Posiedon and you just broke some vow so now our kid is going to be bullied…?”

“No, not bullied. Tortured,” He said with a deadpan expression. I looked at him and laughed. How did he expect me to believe this? Did he, after knowing me for all these months, think I was that dumb?

“Vega I swear, can you atleast try to listen to what I’m saying!? This is serious!” His jaw hardened and I could see a vein popping out of his neck. Maybe he was right. Maybe I should have stopped laughing, but I didn’t. I stared at him,mascara running down my face, in hysterics. It all happened so fast. His hand collided with the wall. I paused affronted and examined the fist sized hole staring back at me. .

“Vega, I…” His voice trailed off as he clapped his palms over his face, “Please just listen.” I nodded and sat down on the bed trying to grasp my thoughts.

“I’m sorry for laughing.” I took a deep breath, “I just need some proof.” He looked into my eyes for a long time. It felt like he was reading me. Every deep and dark part of my history was reflected in his eyes.

“You had an orange tabby cat named Ginger. He died when you were six.” I stared at him blankly. I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that. How could he know?

“When you were eight you went to your first funeral. A great aunt you barely knew the name of. Marrissa Loret. That was her name. She died of a stroke.” He said pleading for me to believe him. Pleading for me to understand. It was all too much. Way too much. I shook my head trying to get a grasp of my thoughts and asked what I thought the most important question at the time was.

“What does this mean for our baby?” He looked at me with a gut-wrenching expression.

“I- listen Vega, being a God come with hard sacrifices. We arent allowed to be in our halfblood childrens lives. It’s too dangerous. Eventually monsters will start chasing after them. If it gets to be too much there’s a place called Camp Halfblood it’s a safe haven for kids who are a product of Gods and mortals.” He walked over to embrace me into his arms. I hit his chest weakly over and over as my body shook with tears.

“How could you? Why would you? Why?” My voice broke as my hands made contact with his skin He grabbed my arms restraining me until I eventually submitted to the feeling of his arms wrapping around me. We stayed like that for a long time before I could speak. I scanned my brain replaying all of our conversations. His brother wasn’t lost at sea he was Poesidon, which meant Zeus was the pilot and his parents weren’t dead , they were defeated Titans.

“Are you going to leave?” I whispered not daring to look into his eyes.

“I have no choice.” He sighed. The angry feeling had returned.

“Get out. Get out of my house right now!” I yelled pointing to the door.

“Vega Please.”

“Now.” I said in a dangerous voice. This seemed to work because suddenly he was fumbling for the door knob muttering a few sorrys. I stayed on the floor for awhile trying not to gag. The whole room smelled like him and it should have been comforting, but it made me nauseous. All of it had been a lie. I realized I truly knew nothing about this man anymore and now I was having his child. I knew it was wrong, but I fixed myself a glass of wine trying to numb the ache that had settled in every inch of my being.

It stayed like this for months. I hardly went out or talked to anyone. Delano, or Hades, had tried to reach out a few times, but I turned him away. It was eight months of darkness until she came into my life. She was the light that guided me out of the fog. My beautiful Lyra. My name is Vega, after the brightest star in the constellation of Lyra. A fun fact about this constellation is there’s a supposed black hole near it named Hades. You never know if it’s really there, but you would be foolish to ignore the warning because if you’re not careful it will pull you into it’s gloom.

I had been at Camp Halfblood for two weeks. Two weeks of me re-reading this letter. When my best friend Lucas showed up with missing pants and hooves for feet insisting we had to leave urgently my mom grabbed my cheeks with her hands kissing my forehead.

“You need to follow Lucas I can’t go with you. I love you,” She said as she began to fumble through a drawer, “Take this. Shine bright Lyra.” She handed me the folded piece of paper. After she got done saying good bye, Lucas led me to the camp explaining to me that I was half God. I hadn’t believed him until a dragon-bat hybrid tried to kill us. When I got to camp that night Hades had claimed me almost immediately. I had learned how to fight, play capture the flag, and sometimes I weaved flower crowns with the Satyrs, but I couldn’t shake the dreadful feeling of hurt. Reading my mom’s letter didn’t help either. Why couldn’t he reach out? After sixteen years the only explanation I get is that he was scared of his family?

“Knock, knock.” A cheerful voice said while opening my door.

“Elio,” I sighed, “I don’t remember giving you permission to just barge into my cabin whenever you want.”

“Hey I knocked!” He held up his hands defensively. Elio Archer was a son of Apollo. He was a few months older than me and we got along well. When I couldn’t sleep, which was most nights, he came into my cabin and played me some obscure instrument. He insist he’s trying to calm me down, but apart of me feels like he just wants an excuse to brag. He had sun kissed skin and sandy hair. He truly did resemble the star.

“Can I help you?” I said brushing out my curtain bangs with my fingers. I stared into my reflection. Light freckles, that resembled my mothers, dusted my pale skin. My hair and eyes however, were dark like my father’s. That’s what my mother had said once as she sipped a glass of wine. Her mood had shifted completely and an emotion I couldn’t make out flashed through her eyes. I didn’t understand it at age thirteen, but after reading that letter I understood now it was resentment.

“Mr. D and Chiron need to speak with you.” He said now sounding on edge.

“What arent you telling me?” I raised an eyebrow with a smirk, but he just glanced around avoiding eye contact.

“Just meet them on the porch.” He said walking out of the room. I frowned slightly and took one last look in the mirror before I walked to the Big House where Chiron and Mr. D sat, playing a game of Uno with Lucas.

“Lyra just the camper we wanted to see!” Chiron said cheerifully as he sat a blue eight card onto the deck.

“Speak for yourself,” Mr. D muttered pulling out a wild card, “Colors yellow.”

“Um,” I cleared my throat, “I’m assuming you didn’t call me over here to ref your game” I tried to get to the point.

“Certainly not, unless you’d be willing to because I’m almost positive Mr.D is cheating.”

“Don’t be spiteful, it’s not my fault you have hay for brains,” Mr. D rolled his eyes as Lucas sat down a draw two card, “Now Chiron can we get on with it I don’t appriceate her attitude.”

“Of course,” He put down the cards for a minute and stared at me pointedly, “It appears your fathers helm of darkness has gone missing. If you recall last summer Percy Jackson informed us that Kronos was rising. This is the reason your father suspects a certain monster is being brainwashed by the Titan and has stole the helm.” Thunder roared in the distance.

“Sir, with all due respect what exactly does this have to do with me?” I didn’t quite understand how my dad not being responsible with his toys was my fault.

“Excellent question!” He picked up the cards again and threw down a yellow, “Uno! You’re father has chosen you to go on a quest to retrieve the helm. It is up to you to decide your fate.” My father chose me? It suddenly made sense why he would claim me. He needed a puppet whose strings he could pull. I was about to say no. To curse Hades for thinking I was that desperate for his validation. Then Lucas spoke up.

“Ly, I know what you’re thinking right now, but this more than just your daddy issues. If you say no then chances are you’ll start the next world war.” He bleated. It took a lot more convincing and Dionysus winning Uno for me to agree to see the Oracle. As I walked to the attic and pulled on a sheet draped over a large object I almost screamed. A skeleton looking figure stood infront of me, green eyes glowing.

“Lyra Pluton.” Loudly projected the skeleton.

“Show me my fate.” I said broadening my shoulder a bit. Soon something happened. The Oracle shot out a beam of emerald light and began speaking.

“Through the shadows a quest will unfold, you and friends shall search for an item priceless and old.” I assumed this meant the helm. The Oracle continued.

“You will travel to the eye of the mountains aboad, find the crown and return it home. Face the lord of shadows, and night. A father’s gaze, a test of might.” My eyes narrowed as I tried to decipher the prophecy. I almost thought it was over until it spat out the last line.

“You must fall into the sun to continue to shine bright.” The Oracles eyes turned back to normal. What the heck did that last part mean? Mountains Aboad? I walked down the stairs and recited what the Oracle had told me, to Chiron and Mr. D. I made my way to Cabin 13. When I walked inside Elio was waiting for me. He had brought me a plate of food, which must have meant I missed dinner. In that moment I realized how overwhelmed I was and despite myself, tears pricked at my eyes. Not because I was sad, but because I was furious at my father for doing this to me.

“Hey, hey what’s wrong?” He walked over to me with a furrowed brows and a concerned look.

“Nothing I’m fine” I tried to wipe the tears away. I would not lose it infront of him. I would not give him a reason to underestimate me. I had lived my life with people pitying me for having a single mom who couldn’t hold her wine. It made me seem weak and I made a promise to myself when I got claimed, I would never put myself into a position that made me seem less than.

“You don’t look fine to me. Come on Ly, what’s up?” He said softly. Deflecting. It’s something I do when I want to avoid my issues. I’m not proud of it. Especially now.

“You know just because you’re a son of Apollo doesn’t mean you have to have the biggest hero complex in the

Universe. Mr.I-have-no-problems-so-I-feed-off-of-other’s-misfortunes. Just get out we’re barely friends I don’t know why you insist on following me around like a dog. You wanna be a good boy? Get out of my room and just leave me alone for once!” My chest heaved. I don’t know where any of that had come from. He looked at me and shook his head.

“I’ll stop bothering you then,” He looked down as though he were trying to stifle his anger, “Theres your dinner by the way.” He said before walking out and slamming the door behind him.

The next three days were exhausting. Chiron and Mr D were preparing me for a quest. They had decided to pair me with Lucas and Elio for backup, which was great considering Elio wouldn’t even look in my direction not that it matter much anyways, I was up at dawn training and studying battle moves and ancient protection just incase anything went wrong. Even through the chaos, the nights were still the worst. I had grown use to Elio’s flute playing or the strum a guitar lulling me into sleep. Now however, I stayed awake tossing and turning waiting for the sun to rise. I was supposed to start my quest tomorrow and everytime I shut my eyes the possibilities ran through my mind. As much as I hated to admit it I was terrified. I neeed my mom right now, I needed to hear her tell me to shine bright so I could roll my eyes one more time. For the first time since I was young I let myself cry. My body shook with tears until it couldn’t anymore and I had no choice, but to succumb to sleep.

“Wakey, wakey! We have a helm to find.!” Lucas said in an overly cheerful voice as he shook me into consciousness. I glared at him before sighing in defeat.

“Alright, alright you win I’m awake!” I laughed as I threw a pillow at him, earning me an annoyed bleat. Lucas took me to where Mr. D and Chiron stood. It was time for us to leave. Elio stood beside Lucas with a hard expression as he avoided eye contact. I folded my arms if he wanted to play that game I could play it back. Ignoring me and Elio’s fight I focused on the task at hand. Chiron presented us with 100 Drachmas, 100 mortal dollars, a celestial bronze sword, a map and compass set, and three sleeping bags. We were supposed to be traveling to a cave where we assumed a cyclops was hiding out with the helm. The quickest way to was to hike through half of the Pacific Crest Mountains. After we got the helm, we would travel to the underworld and return it. It was easier said than done of course.

Once we had left the camp we were escorted by taxi, which had cost about half of our allotted money , to the part of the trail that started in Washington. We would have to walk 5 miles today and 5 miles the next to reach the cave. The first two miles started in almost silence as Lucas started to play Taylor Swift on a wooden recorder.

“Dude chill, this is why I’m the son of Apollo and you arent.” Elio joked. Lucas shot him a grin and I tried to join in by giving a small laugh. His smile dropped almost immediately. Lucas however, didn’t seem to notice the odd behavior and looked at peace as he walked through the woodland. It wasn’t until the fourth mile when we decide to stop by a rest area and get dinner. While I walked into the cozy store, Lucas and Elio skimmed the aisle for some food and drinks we could eat. I was flipping through a brochure when a woman who looked about 20 walked up to me. She was beautiful.

“Lovers quarrel? She asked casually as she picked up a brochure. I looked at her with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry?” I choke out. Lovers quarrel. What was she talking about?

“You and sunshine over there,” She pointed to Elio, “What’s the argument over?” She tilted her head. How could she know me and him were fighting? And why did she think we were together? That’s when it hit me Chiron had mentioned some Gods may show up to check in on us. This must have been Aphrodite, for some reason I felt angry and mezsmerorised at the same time, it was concerning. She seemed to feed off of my discomfort.

“Ah idiots to lovers then. Well just know that boy has strong feelings for you I noticed it by the way he was looking at you when I walked in.” She said with a smile. Before I could ask what she meant Lucas walked up holding 6 bags of Doritos and a pack of Gatorades.

“Dinner time!” He gave me jazz hands before pulling me away. We decided to set up camp in a secluded area on the edge of the trail. After half an hour Lucas passed out while me and Elio sat in front of the blazing campfire he had shown us how to make. He stared into the flames as if they were talking to him. We hadn’t spoken since the argument and it was clear things were off. I hadn’t meant what I said, not really, but how could I explain that?

“Elio…” I sighed. He looked up at me with a cold expression and shook his head.

“Please don’t,” He ordered as he looked into the fire, “You know people at camp called you a freak that night. I was the only one who didn’t have something to say about it. I’ve been the weird kid. I’ve been misjudged before and I didn’t want anyone to go through that, not like I did. I thought maybe if I gave you a chance. Maybe you wouldn’t be so bad. I thought…” He hesitated, “Never mind what I thought. I was wrong.” I stared at him with a frown. For a child of the sun God Elio had darkness to him.

“I was five when I learned it wan’t normal to live with just your mom,” I started with a shaky voice, “I asked her about it and she avoided the question moving onto a different topic completley. That’s what she did when things got hard or uncomfortable. Deflected. When I would ask how many glasses she had she would just look at me and ignore the question. I think I picked it up from her. I’m sorry Elio, I didn’t mean what I said I just, I-” He cut me off with a kiss. My brain short circuited. Oh. This is what Aphrodite had meant. His lips were warm and soft. He tasted like summer. He gave a bashful grin as he looked away and studied the ground in awe.

“Go to sleep Ly.” He said softly. I set up my sleeping bag and for the first time in weeks slept the whole night. The next morning we woke up at five and by noon we had reached the cave.

“I think I should go in. It’s my dad after all.” I said to the boys. Lucas looked at me with a frown.

“Lyra, do you know how dangerous that is?” He said like I was stupid. I wasn’t stupid.

“I have to.” I glared at him. He wasn’t in charge of me and I wouldn’t let him think otherwise. I walked into the dark entrance of the cave and followed a large set of stairs to an attic sized room. In the corner I noticed the ugly one eyed beast sitting on a large chair that reached the ceiling. This must be Polyphemus. He was double my size and slime covered his wretched body. I drew my focus to his arms and noticed the black helm tucked tightly under them. Thanks Dad you really made this easy for me. I regained control of my thoughts and remembered I was at an advantage. He only had one eye. Maybe if I could sneak up on him from the corner I could puncture the orb just enough to grab the helm. I decided to climb the corners of his large chair. I was right at his ear when I decided to make a fight or flight decision. I chose fight.

“Hey look at me!” I yelled into his ear and watched as his eye move toward me in shock.

“I smell a halfblood. You foolish child I will eat you for dinner!” He bellowed

I looked at him and smirked, “Oh yeah? Eat this!” I said as I drew my sword and stabbed him right in the middly of his pupil. I jumped down and grabbed the black helmet, the monster howled in pain as I sprinted. I emerged from the cave holding the helm and grinning like a maniac.

“Lucas, any chance you know how to play Highway to Hell on that thing?” I pointed to his recorder. Elio smiled with a laugh and grabbed my hand while Lucas played the opening notes.

It was a few hours until we finally made it to some recording studio in Los Angeles that was

A cover up for the underworld. When we got there I had to convince Charon to let us pass by giving him all of our drachmas. We passed by Ceberus and the many depths of Hades, I tried to numb my thoughts away from the darkness, until we finally reached his Palace. It was made of black marbel and in the middle was a large throne with fire around it. He sat in the chair and studied me with dark eyes that matched my own.

“Daughter. I see you’ve survived.’’ His voice boomed around the fortress. I looked at the man who had abandoned me my whole life. The man who only wanted me so he wouldn’t get hurt. The man who despite all of this still had the nerve to call me daughter.

“Heres your stupid helmet back.” I said throwing it into the center of the circle ring.

“Careful young hero. That is no way to address your father.” He said in a harsh voice. I stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t seriously going to act like a parent to me when he probably didn’t even know my favorite color right? After sixteen years every speech I had practiced saying to him to, every cruel word, every wave of anger I felt washed over me.

“You are not my father. You are a coward. You are the man who sat back and watched my mother suffer, because of your own selfish needs. You don’t have the right to act like my parent now. Not after all these years. Yeah, I went on your stupid quest. Not because I wanted your validation, but because I didn’t want to start a war, so you can spare me the mediocre pat on the back just because you feel bad about being a dead beat.” I said with my chin raised and shoulders squared. Then I did something that was probably stupid. I took Lucas and Elio by the hands and marched out of his castle ignoring the disapproval radiating off of him.

The rest of the trip back to Camp Half Blood was practically silent, minus some small talk and melodys from grover. It wasn’t until the night we got back and settled that I could really think about the experience.

“You know that was really brave back there with Hades.” Elio said as we sat on the dock well past curfew. I rolled my eyes.

“It wasn’t that big of a deal.” I said defiantly. He looked at me and sighed he knew he wasn’t winning this battle.

“Still pretty brave.” And that was that. For the first time in years I didn’t have to worry about my parents mistakes and the burdens they placed onto my shoulders. I was at peace listening to the nymphs take a late night swim ad the son of Apollo play guitar under the stars.

Hey guys!! I’ll be uploading a narrative on here sometime tonight. The narrative was assigned for a scho project and it’s just a brief overview of a long fic I want to write. To give you guys a warning it is Percy Jackson related…. Hope you can check it out !

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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months ago

Text

chaser!James Potter x chaser!fem!reader

Summary: James is threatened by how good you are at Quidditch which means he hates you. And what emotion is closer to hate than love?

Genre: Angsty Fluff, 'rivals' to lovers <3

Warnings: James is seriously a dick in the beginning, teasing, slight bullying, swearing, fighting, social class differences, reader is an only child, didn't really understand how Quidditch Captains are appointed but bare with me <3

~ finally finished this! loved this ask anon! thank you, my lovely! ~

JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST

James Potter is sprawled across the large, maroon, couch in the center of the Gryffindor Common room, his arms draped over the cushions as his legs lay across Sirius Black's lap.

Sirius, who would probably mind more if he wasn't as drunk as his best friend.

"I mean, fuck me, she wasn't even that good and McGonagall saw her and still looked at her like she'd just hung the moon in the sky!" James exclaims, his ears burning as he recalls Quidditch tryouts that morning.

He's pissed.

"You're just annoyed that she just started and now has a chance at Captain because Mini liked her so much," Sirius points out, which earns him a harsh swat on the top of his head.

James's face sours and he restrains himself from whining like a petulant child. Sirius was right, he was mad because you gave him a run for his money and no one has done that until now.

This was supposed to be his year. McGonagall loved him (mostly)! The Captain position was basically promised to him since his second year and now you've come around and ruined this for him!

"She's seriously not even that good, it's infuriating," James lies and looks around the small gathering they're having. He knows everyone can hear him but he doesn't care. "And she's so fucking annoying," he sounds bitter, "she's always talking everyone's ears off— and have you seen her stupid hair? She wore those fucking space buns just to make herself look cute, I swear!" He lifts himself off the couch for a moment, his arms raising in exasperation, and then lets out a sigh.

"That is usually the reason girls do their hair, James, yes," Remus interrupts from the floor where he's reading his book, his back leaning against the couch.

"Shut up," James grumbles and slumps back down. "I don't want her on the team. She's a nuisance already."

"Speaking of," Peter adds, his voice smaller as he glances towards the stairs to the girls' dorms. James whips his head around and his eyes narrow. You're walking towards the small gathering with some friends.

You're dressed in a Quidditch sweater that is only slightly oversized as the sleeves cover your hands. You're blissfully unaware of how much James Potter hates you so when you see him staring, you assume he wants to talk to you. You liked his company during tryouts. He was funny.

You'd always found him funny.

So, you walk over with a smile and James struggles to sit up. He's very obviously sloshed.

"Hello, Potter," you say and your smile widens. "This is Jane and that's Gabrielle," you introduce your friends. "I enjoyed try-outs, you were amazing. If I'm honest, I've always admired you during games. You're so talented," you feel yourself rambling but you're smiling too much to stop yourself, "I'm so happy we're gonna be on the same team now! I think we should–"

James cuts you off, a mean smirk on his lips as he looks at his friends and the students around you, "What did I say? A little chatterbox this one is," he quips, not completely unaware of how harsh his words are even in his drunken state.

Your hands fall at your sides, and the wind feels like it's been knocked from your lungs at his words when you realize he's making fun of you. You look at your friends and they stare at James with pronounced frowns.

"Oh," you whisper, but then you add, "That's not very nice, Potter."

A little surprised you'd had the guts to stand up to him, James retorts instantly. "Yeah? Is it now, Y/l/n?" He sounds mocking again and you don't understand why.

Your friends pull on your sleeve. "C'mon, Y/n, he's a prick," they turn you around, feeling how hurt you are as they walk away from James and his friends.

"Classy, James, real classy," Remus mutters under his breath.

And as awful as sober James might admit it is, he feels like he'd won something against you.

* * *

You can't understand why James seems to hate you as much as he does.

You've never been mean to him or done anything to harm him— on the contrary, you've only ever spoken highly of him and you know you've made a point of showing him that you trust him as a player when you're practicing. You want him to trust you too.

And still, James hates you and he makes that very clear.

He turns anything into a competition when it comes to you and it's obvious he takes pleasure in making you feel like shit.

As the days turn into weeks, you feel hopeless and even now you find yourself sitting alone on the grass during breaks, adjusting your uniform so you look busy as you hold in your tears.

You can hear James's cruel whispers about you to your teammates, purposefully creating rifts between you and them so you'll feel even more alone.

"She's so desperate," James's mockery causes another ache in your stomach and you chew on your lip so hard you're afraid you'll draw blood. You try not to listen to him as the whistle blows and the practice game starts again.

You're not on James's team this time–which means he either ignores you completely or targets you over anyone. As he hovers near you, you realize this morning it's the latter.

Maria Baker throws you the Quaffle and just as she does, you can sense James coming. You avoid his shoulder just in time and, with a huff, you score into the nearest hoop.

This just infuriates James even more and ups his game—which means the next time you have the Quaffle, he flies up to your shoulder again and pushes you hard to the side. He jabs his elbow into your ribs, purposefully playing dirty.

You wince. "O-ow, James, that hurts," you hiss, focusing on staying in the air as James rough-houses with you.

Your anger builds now and you shove him back, almost slipping from your broom as you try and defend yourself.

The Quaffle falls from your arms as James hits your shoulder with his again and you gasp. You expect him to rush to the ball and continue the game but he's furious from you shoving him so he grabs one of your braids and pulls.

You feel yourself fall from your broom as you cry in pain and you turn your body, clutching the end of James's uniform and, with a grunt from him, you're suddenly both plummeting to the ground.

You roll onto your stomach, falling onto James's chest as his arms automatically wrap around your back and he groans, looking up at you as you practically straddle his lap. Your head is throbbing from where he'd pulled your hair, your left braid messier than your right, and pure fury flashes in your eyes.

You lean over James, grabbing a handful of his curls and you pull. "What the bloody hell is your problem? How do you like it, hm?! You insufferable jerk!"

James doesn't take too kindly to this and he grabs your wrists, flipping you over so you're the one under him. His mum had told him never to hit a girl but oh does he want to hit you right now. You're staring up at him with that look he hates—the one that makes him feel all fluttery in his stomach.

You're struggling against his grip, grass in your hair. James's cheeks must be just as covered in dirt as yours are and his shoulder aches from the way he'd fallen.

"Potter! Y/l/n!" The whistle blows and the current Captain, Ines Clarke, runs up with McGonagall behind her. She'd seen the commotion from inside and seemed more than furious as she rushed over.

Some of your teammates follow, including Sirius Black who grips James's collar and pulls him off you. You hear Sirius hiss, "Prongs!! What in Godric's name is wrong with you?!" and then McGonagall pulls your attention to her.

Ines helps you up, looking concerned but then turns her attention to James. McGonagall walks over and when she sees the mess James has made of you, she frowns. "Are you alright, Miss Y/l/n?"

You nod, your lips pressed tightly as you see a bunch of your teammates have gathered around James as he rolls his shoulder. You look at your broom, which lies broken on the grass, and your eyes water. McGonagall senses your distress and she glances at James.

"James Potter!" She suddenly snaps her dainty fingers and James is next to her in seconds, both hands gripping his only slightly damaged broom.

It had been better quality than yours anyway.

His nervous eyes dart from McGonagall to you as he takes you in. You stare at him, unable to look away from how messy you've made his naturally tousled hair and you wonder if grass and dirt stick to your cheeks just as they do to James'.

"This," McGonagall points in between you both, "isn't how we do things here—you know this better than anyone, Mr. Potter. Your behavior is unacceptable." she reprimands him sternly and then looks at you, "and Miss Y/l/n, no matter how other teammates provoke you, you don't have the right to lay your hands on them either."

"But–"

"No. No more buts." McGonagall ignores both your protests as she looks down at your broom. "You need to learn how to behave like a team."

She thinks for a moment. "Tomorrow morning, you'll travel to Hogsmeade so Miss Y/l/n can replace her broom. Mr. Potter, you'll help her without any complaints, and neither of you better step foot on the pitch again until you've worked out whatever this feud is."

Your eyes widen. You want to tell McGonagall you cannot buy a new broom right now, but she clearly doesn't have anyexcuses about her new team bonding exercise. This means, much to your dismay, you end up waiting for James early the next morning, hugging your arms around you as you pick at the wool on your sweater.

James is ten minutes late. You want to kill him.

"Oi," his voice calls from behind you, irritatingly nonchalant. You turn and see he's also wearing his Quidditch sweater—which means you're now unintentionally matching—and a pair of casual trousers. James sends you a lopsided smirk, pushing his hands into his pockets as he sways on his feet almost awkwardly. "Why so gloomy, newb?" he mocks, the nickname rolling cruelly from his tongue.

You scrunch up your nose and spin around, walking in front of him as you clutch your purse. You don't want to give him a reaction and have him mock you the entire way into town. Instead, you both walk in silence, taking in the morning air and the sound of the birds.

Occasionally your purse will hit James's hip and he'll frown, opening to say another snarky comment until he sees a keychain; the one you have of Olive Gnats, a famous chaser from the Montrose Magpies.

"Oh, Gnats, I like her too—" he finds himself admitting before he can remind himself he hates you.

You startle and clutch your keychain, wanting to hide it from him but then you look down and then back up at James. "O-oh, yeah, she's my favorite player. Her technique is incomparable."

"Seen her match last year?"

"'Course," you say, your tone less on edge now that you're talking about something you clearly love, and the rambling you do so much kicks in, "I would watch her every game ever since I was six years old. Have around ten posters in my room at home, some are old now but—I- I studied her moves when I would play around with my mum and dad—they also played in school—that's how they met—" You cut yourself off, James's earlier taunts ringing in your head.

Your rambling is ignored as curiously overpowers him and James asks, "You have no siblings to play with?"

You shake your head. "Nope. Only child."

James's hazel eyes soften and he feels a funny feeling in his chest. "Oh, m-me too. Has its perks and its downfalls, y'know?" he whispers as he looks at you from the corner of his eye. His heart pounds.

The sun hits your skin just perfectly and your hair smells like cinnamon shampoo. James feels drawn to you again—just like he had in the beginning—and he wants to stop himself but when you laugh at his comment, he feels like an arrow has just shot his heart.

"Oh yeah, it certainly does," you sound guarded again and James can't even be upset.

It's his fault you're like this around him.

He opens the door for you when you enter Quality Quidditch Supplies and the little bell rings. Instantly, you're drawn to the newest broom—displayed with polished wood and improved flying qualities—but you turn your head, knowing instantly you can't pay for a broom like that—

"Hey, look at this one," James's excitement tugs at your heart and you walk over, standing beside him as you can't help but admire the broom up close. "It feels amazing," James says as he runs his hand over the smooth wood. He's grinning. "This is the one, isn't it?"

You bite your cheek. You want it to be.

"I don't know, I–haven't seen the others," you whisper, avoiding James's eyes.

"What? What are you talking about? This one is the best by far, you aren't gonna find a better broom."

"I want to look around," you whisper, looking at the price of this broom, and your heart sinks.

"Y/n, this is ridiculous—"

"James, stop," you snap, very clearly annoyed. You can't tell if he means well by being persistent since he's only just now started to show you any form of kindness and this still feels like some cruel joke he's playing on you.

"I can't pay for this one—and the truth is I can't pay for any of these so—I- I think—" you pause, clutching at your purse desperately as you hold in tears of embarrassment. "I should tell McGonagall I couldn't find a broom I liked and I'll borrow an older one from my parents—

—plus, if I buy this one you'll just have another reason to hate me," you finish.

Your words hit James hard as he takes in what you mean. Shame sneaks up on him instantly as he knows exactly why you would think that. It suddenly hits him just how threatened he's been and as silly as it sounds the only image in James's head is the disappointed look of his mother if she knew he had taken out his own insecurities on you.

If Euphemia Potter knew how much of a dick he's been to you, she'd be horrified.

He looks at you closely, taking in how embarrassed you look. During tense moments with his friends, Remus had sometimes told him he was a spoiled rich boy—unaware of real struggles — and he'd always brushed him off.

Only this time, he can't unhear Remus's jab as he realizes how foolish he had been to assume anything about you.

"Oh," he whispers.

You look away at the other brooms. "I- I honestly didn't realize how expensive new brooms are. My mum and dad had gotten the other one for my eleventh birthday—I should have been more careful—" You sound sad and James's heart sinks.

"Hey, listen, it's my fault your broom is broken. I- shouldn't have been so rough on you like I was. I'm sorry," he speaks up, sounding sincere and you look up at him, expecting a better explanation than that.

"It's no excuse but, the truth is, I was incredibly threatened by you. You're so good, better than me even, and I really want Captain so—"

"I don't want Captain," you say instantly. "I just wanted to be on the team—"

At that point, James remembers what you'd said that night when he was piss-drunk in the Common Room. 'I've always admired you during games.' It dawns on him that you just wanted him to like you and, instead, he'd gone and seen you as an enemy. His chest hurts.

He has never felt more like an ass than now.

"Okay, well, um," he whispers, rubbing his nape, "Let me make it up to you then. I'll buy you the broom." James means well, he truly does, but it only makes you feel more embarrassed and you shake your head.

"No. I don't need your pity," you say instantly as you stare at him, eyes narrowed.

"I'm not pitying you! I'm fixing my mistake," he exclaims, his voice strained.

You open your mouth to protest when he adds, "Please."

James looks determined as he rummages through his robes for any spare change he can use and then he curses. "Shit, I didn't bring enough money," he mumbles and lifts his head, looking up at you with his puppy-like brown eyes. "I promise I'll buy it for you, Y/n. Okay? I'll make this right," he adds again and your expression softens.

"Sure, James," you whisper, not entirely sure if you believe him.

* * *

He did buy you the broom.

James had it wrapped neatly with a small letter signed J.P accompanied with the words, "I'm sorry," scribbled onto the parchment.

Since that morning, he didn't ignore you anymore, he included you with the other teammates, and he played fair with you—even complimenting you sometimes. McGonagall had seen the change in dynamic and so had Ines, which she'd praised you both for.

"Good job, Y/l/n," Ines grins as she packs up her bags, "you and Potter seem to be getting on much better now." She winks and her comment passes over you as you focus on untying your ponytail, rubbing your scalp.

The rest of the team has fallen in front of you, laughing and chatting as they walk back to the dorm. You're lost in the moment, struggling with holding your bag as you run your hand in your hair, the tightness of the ponytail was causing you a headache.

Suddenly, you suddenly squeal when you almost trip over James—who had bent down to tie his shoes and had been separated from the group.

He grunts and stands up, turning around and catching your arm as he steadies you.

"Oh hey, Y/n," he grins, and then he glances at your poor bag hanging from your arm. Swiftly, he takes your bag and holds it over his other shoulder, not even commenting on the gesture.

"Want some company walking back to the Common Room?" he asks casually.

You blow some strands away from your eyes as you look up at him, grateful for the momentary relief from your bag as the pain in your scalp subsides.

"Sure," you say, reaching for your bag but James holds it up and away from you.

"Let me be a gentleman here," he teases.

You roll your eyes with no malice. "Hero complex much, Potter?"

He chuckles as you walk inside the school, side by side. James winks at you. "On the contrary, Y/l/n, I am the hero. Don't need a complex when you are one, y'know?"

You laugh, hearing the joking infliction in his voice as your heart feels lighter. Much to your better judgment, you've actually been enjoying James's company these last weeks, and talking to him alone like this has been even more fun. "I think you think much too highly of yourself, James." you tease him back.

"I am wounded, Y/n." He fakes hurt as he puts a hand over his heart.

"It's true is it not?" you say with a smirk and James narrows his eyes as you turn a corner, getting closer to the Common Room. You shrug, catching yourself. "Nothing wrong with some confidence."

James grins, his eyes sparkling playfully as he gently nudges your side with his elbow. "You could learn a few things from me, eh?"

You frown. "Are you saying I'm not confident?"

James hums, smirking, "'M just giving you some advice, love. You have the skills now, you gotta trust yourself." You both approach the entrance and you mutter the secret word to the Fat Lady Painting and the door cracks open. You push it further with your palm.

"Since when are you giving me Quidditch advice to make me better?"

James turns around once he's inside and hands you your bag. "Since I realized if you can't beat them, join them," he jokes with a smile, "We're a team now, Y/n. I know I was a real dick in the beginning, but I look out for my teammates. You're my teammate, so now I look after you."

Your shoulders relax and a small smile tugs your lips. "Thanks, James," you say honestly and rest your bag higher on your shoulder, tucking some hair behind your ear as you smooth the knots a little. "I really appreciate that."

"Anytime," James whispers as you walk up the stairs to the girl's dorm. Sirius whistles from where he's sitting on one of the couches, his head leaning against the armrest as he watches you and James. Once you disappear from view, James spins around, his eyes narrowing at his best friend.

Sirius winks and looks at James's sneakers. "This is the third time this week you've used that stupid shoelace excuse, Prongs. At this point, just stay back and ask her to walk with you, you chicken."

James's cheeks turn crimson and he walks over to shove Sirius, "Shut up."

Sirius just laughs loudly.

* * *

You've never felt so nervous in your life as you clutch the wood of your new, expensive, broom. The wind has picked up and everyone can tell the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor seekers are having a hard time finding the snitch. You're breathing heavily as you look around, seeing Maria—the third chaser—throw James the Quaffle.

James easily catches the Quaffle, avoiding the Ravenclaws on his right as he swoops lower. Your adrenaline is pumping and you think you know what he's doing. You hope. You fly closer and higher to the hoops, letting James know you're open.

Your memory flashes to the beginning when he wouldn't pass you the Quaffle under any circumstances, even if it cost the team the point. He can be so headstrong and your body is buzzing as you watch him closely.

What if he doesn't throw it to you? You have the perfect shot.

James looks at you from the corner of his eye, shoving a Ravenclaw with his shoulder to disorient them.

He could want the score for himself—but he's surrounded, he could miss.

The sound of the crowd is drowned out when you see his arm raise and he's communicating with his eyes. You nod, jumping into action as you fly closer and avoid the Ravenclaws as you catch the Quaffle and throw your arm back, throwing the Quaffle directly into the middle hoop.

Just as you score, Oliver—Ravenclaw's seeker—catches the snitch and the whistle blows. Gryffindor was leading already and you glance at the board. It didn't matter that Oliver caught the snitch, your goal had helped secure Gryffindor the win. Cheers erupt around you and you find yourself in a trance as your feet hit the ground and you clutch your broom.

"Y/n!" Someone calls your name as the ringing in your ears dies and you feel hands wrap around your waist, hoisting you up in the air as you twirl around. A gasp escapes your lips as you clutch onto the culprit's shoulder, the cheers continuing to echo around the pitch.

"You did so amazingly," James's excitement shines as he slowly lowers you back onto the ground, your chest brushing against his as your hands find themselves wrapped around his neck. You stare into his eyes, feeling his proximity and you suddenly feel warm and dizzy.

Has he always been this handsome?

"James." His name is the only thing your brain can think to say as he refuses to let you go. He also looks breathless and his cheeks have turned a faint shade of pink as his eyes roam over your features.

You want to tell him a thousand things. How good he was, how you're so happy the team won, how honored you are he trusted you enough to throw you the Quaffle to make the score. You want to ask if you were more confident this time and if he's noticed your effort—but instead, any attempt at words is drowned by his lips meeting yours.

You don't kiss him back for a moment, your hand faltering behind his neck as your fingers find the baby hairs on his nape. He feels so close and your lips part a little, kissing him back carefully as your eyes shut.

James's hands squeeze your waist and for a moment the crowd and the team are completely forgotten until James pulls away, and the sound of cheering returns as the realization of what happened dawns on you both.

"I'm sorry," James mutters, stepping away but he keeps a hand on you.

"You're sorry?" you ask, your voice small.

James hesitates, looking at you seriously and then he shakes his head. "No. I'm not sorry."

Your lips curl upwards and, still ignoring everyone around you, you pull him down by the collar of his shirt and kiss his lips again. James grins against your mouth, his heart thumps in his chest as all he can think about is you.

"Oi, no PDA on the pitch, you pervs!" Sirius's teasing voice suddenly shouts out from somewhere beside you but you're almost positive no one else is worried about you and James considering everyone's celebrating on their own.

James must feel the same because he throws up a middle finger with the hand that leaves your waist and you laugh into his mouth, reaching for his arm to stop him.

"Prick," James mutters to Sirius, "You're annoying," he adds with some playful bite.

He turns to you and his gaze softens. "But you're lovely," he whispers, earning him the prettiest smile he's ever seen and he's never been more proud.

tags: @mischievousmoony, @sayitlikethecheese

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