#but if you look at it as if Sirius is James brother

[my-castles-crumbling]

pine - February 2 - black brothers - background wolfstar - @black-brothers-microfic - word count: 299

“Can I be honest with you?”

Sirius looked up from his spot on a chair outside in the Potters’ garden, only to see his brother approaching him. He and Regulus had finally escaped to the Potters’ a few weeks ago, giving them the best summer they’d ever had.

“I mean…I have a feeling you will be, whether or not I say yes,” Sirius quipped, but he smiled and gestured to another chair, offering for Regulus to join him.

“True,” Regulus snorted. He stared at Sirius thoughtful for a moment, before he spoke. “It’s just…pining doesn’t become you, Sirius.”

Sirius nearly choked on his spit. “Pining?”

“Oh, don’t lie. You’re going to try to pretend like you’re not head-over-heels for Lupin? C’mon, I knew that before I saw the two of you together this past week, and all of your gooey bullshit just made it painfully obvious,” Regulus said flatly.

Sirius swallowed. Yes, Remus had been staying with them the past week, and of course he had been giving him attention. Hugging him, laying his head on his lap, flirting with him…but he also did that with James sometimes! It wasn’t different….was it?

Was it?

“It’s not…it doesn’t…” he stuttered, trying to process his feelings.

Regulus, however, just rolled his eyes. “You told me when we left that we were done with Walburga’s bullshit. That we wouldn’t let her get to us anymore. So don’t you dare let her stupid beliefs get in your head and stop you from admitting the obvious. I mean, I could be wrong, but I think you’re just being an idiot. Because Lupin clearly likes you, too.”

“He does?” Sirius asked, turning so quickly his neck cracked a bit. His heart skipped a beat at the idea.

Regulus smirked triumphantly. “Why do you care, Sirius?”

[rainydayathogwarts]

hi !! congrats on 3000🎉

i’d like to request an autumn - “this is going to sound controversial but i think that went well" with james potter please! thank you in advance❤️

Softening the blow - James Potter

ʀᴀɪɴʏᴅᴀʏᴀᴛʜᴏɢᴡᴀʀᴛꜱ' 3ᴋ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ!

summary: remus isn't the only one you accidentally expose your relationship to. lupin!reader wc: 0.9k+ gosh do i love myself a cyclical structure

James sighed, fingers twitching in a desperate attempt not to reach out to you, but you needed space, even if it were minimal. He cleared his throat, but still, you refused to meet his eyes. “This is going to sound controversial,” he started, and you raised your gaze up to look at him. Now he was forced to continue. “But I think that went well.” You squinted your eyes at him, scoffing in disagreement. With all the conversations and careful consideration you and James had taken to tell Remus, your protective werewolf brother, that you were dating, of course the truth was bound to come out in the worst way possible.

There was no softening the blow, there was no ‘Me and James have something to tell you’. No, there was just the reveal. You buttoned up the last two buttons of your shirt, shutting your eyes as you remembered the incident.

James had gotten you both distracted; it was his fault. You had insisted that your Potions essay needed finishing and like an idiot, you believed your boyfriend when he told you that you’d focus better in his dorm, where the loud chatter of the common room wouldn’t distract you. Of course, you’d gotten suspicious when he sat on his bed, patting the empty space next to him, but you obliged, oblivious to the way his eyes were instantly attracted to the sliver of skin that was revealed as your skirt rode up. James draped your legs over his, caressing your soft skin as you explained to him all the points you needed to include in your essay.

That was when the first warning sign appeared. James leaned in close to you, pressing a soft kiss on your lips and interrupting the words coming out of your mouth. You smiled sweetly at him, intertwining your fingers with his as you continued speaking. James leaned his head against the headboard, looking at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes, and he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss you again. “James.” A single call of his name was warning enough, but he ignored it. James knew that he wasn’t the only affectionate one in the relationship, and with just enough touch, you wouldn’t be able to resist him.

And he was right.

It only took two other kisses to your neck for you to begin chasing his lips with yours, a hand tightly gripping his shirt. God, were you bad at ignoring him. The shirt wrinkled under your hold and James brought a hand up to cup your cheek, moulding his lips with your parted ones. That’s when you knew you were done for. James’s shirt was off in seconds, leaving him in his trousers and tie, which you tugged on to bring him impossibly closer to you, tongue sliding against his. His large hands were gripping your thighs, using his strength to pull your body atop his, completely ignorant to the door knob turning on the other side of the room as he began unbuttoning your top.

Now, normally you and James weren’t so bold, however Remus had been gone for hours, and you were confident that he’d be gone for even longer. He made his rounds speaking to all his professors about upcoming assignments and catching up on missed lessons from the last full moon. However, when Remus reached Professor McGonagall’s office, he found her halfway out and on the way to the Gryffindor common room to look for Sirius Black. So like anyone would, he decided to walk with her. Discussing Sirius’s owl from home and Remus’s trouble with the newest piece of homework, the pair quickly made their way to the common room. That eradicated more or less half an hour of time for you and James to have the dorm to yourselves, secret kisses on the brink of revelation.

Unfortunately for you, Sirius was nowhere to be found so Remus, ever the gentleman, invited Professor McGonagall up to their dorm to check. The same dorm where his sister was currently making out with one of his best friends. Remus hadn’t seen it coming. Opening the door to the dorm, he only turned to look at what happened when he saw Professor McGonagall’s eyes widen, hearing her mutter “Oh dear” as she turned away from the sight.

Remus was silent, watching you turn on your boyfriend’s lap to look at him standing in the doorway. James had bit his lip to suppress the moan that had surfaced when you moved, but the sound was still heard in the small space. You gasped, rolling off James and desperately buttoning up the first few buttons of your shirt, leaving James to cover his chest with his hands. You didn’t have the heart to laugh at the ridiculous sight, because you not only had your brother caught you making out with his best friend, but so had the school’s deputy headmistress.

“Oh my god, I just showed Professor McGonagall my sister and best friend making out.” Remus cried, slapping a hand on his forehead. “Oh my god, my sister and best friend were making out!” And with that, the door slammed shut. You heard Remus’s hurried footsteps leading him away from the dorm, and probably towards Professor McGonagall, where he’d aimlessly attempt a weak apology before ranting to her about how he didn’t know about you. Slumping down on the bed next to James, you dug your face in your hands. You heard the shuffle of the covers as James sat up next to you, his fingers twitching in a desperate attempt not to reach out to you, but you needed space, even if it were minimal. He cleared his throat, but still, you refused to meet his eyes. “This is going to sound controversial, but I think that went well.”

taglist:

@ravisinghs-wife, @amatoanima, @starry-remus, @pain-in-the-ashe, @hiireadstuff, @superlegend216, @treefairy-28, @superlegend216, @kitkatkl

[miriammctroi]

More Twins Regulus & Sirius Shenanigans

Sirius and Regulus are attending two different universities, and James has never met Regulus before. He just knows that they're brothers, and has heard Sirius referring to Regulus as his "baby brother."

The day Regulus is scheduled to visit Sirius for the first time, James picks Sirius up from the building where he has his last class at. He puts his arm around him and yaps and yaps and yaps all the way back to their dorm. He is so excited to meet his brother, and damn, what a day he has had! The cute redhead he met in the cafeteria isn't interested in a second date. Should he try to ask her out again anyway?

Sirius says, definitely not. He should look for someone new to date. Maybe a guy, this time?

James goes on, yapping about his classes, his sports and how excited he is to cook for Sirius's brother and see if he can handle more spice than his twin. Back at the dorm, he changes his shirt in front of Sirius, as he always does, asking whether his brother would be very judgy of his clothes.

Sirius says, probably yes. Maybe he should show up naked just to be safe.

Then, the door opens again and... Sirius walks in?

James looks confused from one Sirius sitting on a bed to the other by the door.

Door-Sirius grins and hugs the other. "Reggie, there you are! I thought you wanted to wait for me to finish my classes? James, this is my brother Regulus."

[agreeeeeeeeeee]

Hit Me Where It Hurts The Most p.4 | S.B.

feat. Sirius Black x Rowle!reader

SUMMARY: You attend the Lestrange Gala on Rabastan's arm, finally making your family proud. But all things must come to the light, and with time running out, a decision must be made.

CW: MDNI 18+, smut, pure blood ideology, manipulative and abusive families, angst angst angst, protective!Sirius, hurt/comfort, HEA

AN: wow! this is long! but ahhh! can't believe we've reached the final part of the series!! but don't worry, I'm not done with this one quite yet...

series navigation | part one | part two | part three | masterlist

You tried to focus on the book in your lap, but the words were swimming on the page, taking the shape of your argument with Sirius.

He's lying to you.

You don't understand.

Please don't leave.

He'd been so passionate, so single-minded in his desire for you—it scared the shit out of you. His words were pretty, his intentions righteous, but was that enough?

For so long, the story of your life has been drilled into your head. Over and over and over again. A wealthy man's wife, the jewel of his crown, the mother of his children, keeper of the bloodline.

What were you beyond that? Who were you, if not obedient?

The train rolled loudly beneath you, the Scottish country side a blur of green and gray. It was a long weekend, and it seemed loads of students were taking advantage.

Before boarding, you caught a glimpse of James and Sirius with some bags waiting in a patch of sunshine. Of course James Potter would use a free weekend to visit his parents.

Sirius was puffing on a cigarette, staring down at the tracks while James talked animatedly about something you couldn't hear. He looked…sad. And you turned away, following your brother onto the back of the train.

You were in a compartment with Thorfinn, his long legs stretched out and resting on the cushion beside you, his head lolled against the window. But you knew he wasn't sleeping, because his snores would rattle the windows more than the train.

He was oddly quiet, though, and the threat of danger buzzed like a gnat around your head. You wished you'd insisted on sharing at compartment with Rab, but Thorfinn dragged you away before you could open your mouth.

“What are you staring at?” He gruffed, peaking open one of his eyes to peer at you.

You hurriedly looked down at your book, but it was too late. He pushed himself up, cracking his thick neck before bracing his elbows on his knees and leaning towards you.

“We need to talk.”

You closed your book, setting it aside with trembling fingers. “What about?”

He sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. A bizarrely human gesture of discomfort. “Father wrote two weeks ago, the—the business is not going well.”

Your stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

It looked like it genuinely pained him to be telling you this, and your addled mind couldn't begin to decipher it. “We're running out of money, y/n. Rapidly. If things continue, we may lose…” he trailed off, staring down at his fine leather shoes. “We may lose everything.”

“Why are you just telling me this now?” You asked, voice tight with fear. Was there anything secure in your life anymore? At every turn, if seemed danger and uncertainty lurked.

All you ever wanted was safety, and that seemed more impossible by the day.

“I didn't want it to affect—” he waved vaguely towards the closed compartment door. Towards Rabastan. “I didn't want it to be a factor. Father told me to keep it from you, but sister—” he reached for your hand, the bandage removed by Madame Pomfry that morning, and it took every ounce of willpower you'd built to not pull away. “You may be our last hope.”

You shook your head, tears springing to your eyes. “I can't, Thor—”

“You already are,” he said. “With the Lestrange's on our side, Father can turn this around. Save our family.”

You held his icy gaze, shocked by what was transpiring. Thor hadn't spoken to you like this in…Merlin, years? He'd become so tight-lipped, so hostile, you'd forgotten that there was man inside that brutal, glacial exterior.

But…was he a man you trusted?

“I should go to him now, then,” you said, the compartment suddenly stifling. “Have some quiet time before the party.”

Thorfinn nodded. “I'm not supposed to allow unsupervised meetings, but…this once I can let it slide.”

“Thank you, brother.” You leaned forward to kiss his cheek, surprising him, before slipping out of the compartment before he changed his mind.

You slumped against the wall, catching your breath and wiping tears from your cheeks. How had this all ended up on your shoulders? Your family, your future, your feelings, Sirius’ feelings—it was too much.

All you ever wanted was safety. Security.

For a moment of delirious hope you thought about tracing down Sirius’ compartment, begging him to take you to the Potter Manor with him. Let yourself want him as recklessly as he did you. But what Sirius offered was a pipedream, a fantasy, and you'd always been a practical girl.

You could only see one reality laid before you. Unrolled like a red carpet at your feet.

No matter how you felt about Sirius, how much you felt for him, could you risk everything for a shot at something as fickle as love?

What happened when he got tired of you in six months? When the novelty wore off? When the heat of an illicit affair turned tepid and stale?

Sirius would resent you. You would resent him. It could only end in heartbreak for the both you. Could only end in pain.

You raped a knuckle on the door of Rabastan's compartment.

“Come in,” he called, sounding a bit distracted.

You slid open the door, peaking your head in. “Am I disturbing you?”

He closed the book in his lap, setting aside the quill in his hand for notes. Dressed in luxurious clothes, even for a train ride he thought he'd be spending alone. “Never, darling. Are you alright?”

You sat on the cushion beside him, his dark eyes sweeping over you, tangible as a caress. “Thorfinn is snoring too loud for me to think straight,” you lied. “And I thought maybe we could spend some time together, before tonight?”

He smiled, turning so his back was braced against the train window and he was facing you, one leg propped up on the seat. It was a casual position, spread out and languid, and your cheeks flushed with heat at the near indecency of it.

Rabastan never did anything by mistake, and this was no exception. His perceptive eyes watched your reaction, and something sinful flickered to life in them as the blush stained your skin.

“Your brother was under strict orders to prevent unsupervised interactions,” Rab pointed out, tilting his head slightly.

“We'll be in London by the time he wakes up, he won't even notice,” you replied.

He made a soft, contemplative sound in his throat. “I didn't take you for the rebellious type, little doe.” He pushed his dark hair back from his face, revealing every sharp angle and curve, a face carved by the Goddess Aphrodite herself. Flawless.

You'd make beautiful, perfectly pureblood children, that was for sure. Not that you cared much for that, beauty or blood status, and you hadn't ever really contemplated whether you wanted children. It was just what was done.

“I'm not, usually,” you said. “I'm not sure what's come over me.” At least that wasn't entirely a lie.

“You always have this lost look in your eye,” he murmured. “Beautiful, fuck, you're beautiful. But sad, aren't you?”

His words struck a chord, tears brimming once more, weighing down the buoyancy of his praise.

You were so tired of being sad all the time, afraid. You just wanted to forget for awhile, and just be.

Rab shifted, setting his feet on the ground and moving closer to you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, turning your face towards him. “Darling, I could make you so happy.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, achingly tender, and a sob wrenched itself from your chest. “Sh, sh, my love, it's alright now.” He swiped away your tears with his thumbs. “You're safe with me. You'll never know hardship or pain again, if you just let me take care of you.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes, his expression painfully sincere. And you knew he meant it, knew that he would never let harm come to his wife. If you were his, you were as secure as gold in Gringott's. Untouchable.

“Just tell me what you need from me, and it's yours,” he whispered, eyes shimmering with promise.

Right now, all you wanted was to forget. To feel something other than gnawing, consuming fear.

“Don't want to think anymore,” you breathed. “I'm so tired of thinking.”

The corner of his mouth lifted, sharp as a dagger and twice as dangerous. “I think I can manage that.” He dragged you towards him, molding his lips to yours. You leaned into him, letting his mouth guide yours through the lush, toe-curling kiss. His tongue glided over your lower lip, tasting you, and you parted for him, moaning as his tongue twined with yours.

Rab felt so good, so assured and deliberate. It was easy to give in to him, to let him take the lead.

One of his arms looped around your waist, hauling you up and into his lap, straddling him. His hand on your face slid into your hair, gentle but firm as he deepened the kiss. Your heart beat wildly in your chest, heat spilling into your lower belly. You gave a tentative roll of your hips, desperate for more than a kiss, and you felt him smile against your mouth.

“Eager, darling?” He purred, kissing down your neck. “As tempting as you are, little doe, there will be none of that until you're mine.”

“Rab,” you whined, digging your fingers into his muscular shoulders, head tipping back to give him more access.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty.” His arms wrapped around you, pulling you flush to his chest as he thrust his hips up, making you gasp. “Go on, sweetheart. Show me what a perfect little wife you'll be.”

His words send a terrifying, exhilarating thrill through your body, a visceral reaction beyond rationality. It was a like a drunk being passed a handle of whiskey, everything you ever wanted at your fingertips.

Pretty little wife.

A path. A plan. A purpose.

You rocked your hips against him again, crying out when the thick bulge of his cock grazed your clit. Yes, yes, yes. Fuck, it felt so good, losing yourself in him. Letting the world slip free from your shoulders like the moans slipping from your lips.

Rab chuckled low in his throat, his hand skimming down your stomach, dipping beneath your skirt and panties to feel your dripping pussy, leaking obediently into his hand as his middle finger swirled your entrance. “You're a vision, darling. Absolute perfection,” he praised, the words hot and breathy against your skin. “Being so good.” His finger slipped inside of you, curling against your gooey walls, and you keened, aching thighs working you even faster against his palm.

“Mmph—Rab, m’so close,” you whimpered, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

“Go on, let go for me. There's my precious girl, that's it—” his whispered encouragement sent you over the edge, muffling your cry into his neck as pleasure seized you, hips bucking erratically as you rode out your high.

“Fuck, fuck,” you gasped, heart pounding in your ears, between your legs, as you slowly returned to earth, melting into his sturdy embrace.

Rabastan slid his fingers from you, taking a small taste of you for himself before feeding the digit between your lips. “Well done, love. Came so pretty for me.” He kissed along your temple, your cheek while you sucked yourself off of his finger.

He withdrew his finger, patting your cheek like you would an obedient dog, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

Suddenly, what you were doing hit you like a ton of bricks. You'd crawled into his lap like a bitch in heat, desperate and lonely, and so pathetic—your whole body stiffened in his arms, fighting the urge to recoil from him.

How could you have done this? Walked into his trap so willingly after everything? Betrayed Sirius’ open-heart so completely?

It took everything in you to swallow the tears forcing their way up your throat.

The train whistled, long and ear-splitting, and you jumped off his lap, so relieved your knees nearly gave out beneath you.

“Thor is going to wake up, I have to go.” You righted yourself, willfully ignoring the wet spot you left on his designer trousers, the raging hard on still tenting in his lap. “I'll see you tonight?”

“Run along, little doe. I'll see you tonight.” He waved you away.

You hurried back into the hall, nearly tipping over your feet when the train started to slow as it approached the station.

Thor wrenched open the compartment door, blue eyes landing on you. You have him a stiff nod, knowing what he wanted from you, and he grinned, jagged as the spikes of a bear trap.

You stared at yourself in the mirror. The emerald gown Rab selected for you was exquisite, tailored to perfection from its halter neckline to the slit reaching towards your hip. It looked like it had been poured onto you, hugging every curve. You should feel beautiful, but instead you felt deeply vulnerable. Like you may as well walk out there naked. All your secrets from the last month written across your skin.

After departing from the train, you and Thorfinn met up with your parents for tea, and you endured their endless questions and backhanded praise, leaving you feeling battered and even more ashamed than you already had.

It all felt so…hopeless.

Your eye wandered to your trunk, where the invisibility cloak was hidden away. A final sliver of hope. You didn't think you were brave enough to use it, if this morning was any indication. But you'd brought it anyways, knowing it was what Sirius wanted.

Your mind tugged one way, your heart another. Without this marriage your family could be left destitute. Your future a compete mystery.

And clearly, the allure of Rabastan's security and power was more formidable than you'd bargained for. The slightest push, and you'd folded. Fear making you desperate, foolish, cowardly.

And maybe that's what you were. Maybe Sirius was wrong about you.

The door to your suite creaked open, your mother sticking her head through the crack. “Are you finished yet?”

“Yes, mother,” you replied, rising from your makeup table and smoothing your dress. “I'm ready.”

You walked arm and arm with your mother down to the party, tuning out her endless instructions on how you should act and heave, who you should speak to, who you should ignore.

But as soon as you stepped into the ballroom, she fell silent in awe. It was stunningly lavish, every table dripping in velvet and diamonds,the glittering chandeliers overhead extravagant enough to compete with Gringotts. The marble floor clicked under your heels, the sound swallowed up by the band on the stage and the mingling voices floating on the air.

You knew the Lestrange's were wealthy, but this…

“Ah! There are my beautiful girls!” Your father appeared, Reinhard Lestrange on his left, Rabastan and Rodolpus flanking him like sentinels. “Don't you look lovely, darling.” Your father took your hands, bringing your knuckles to his lips, and you had to fight to control your expression. Your father never showed affection

Unconsciously, you glanced up at Rabastan. His eyes were trained on you, a pleased gleam lighting up his face, and you flushed. Reinhard seemed to notice the exchange, and looked at you with more interest.

“It's a pleasure to finally meet you,” he drawled, his voice having the same smooth cadence as his younger son. “Reinhard Lestrange.” He offered a hand, and you placed your fingers in his, and he brushed a kiss to your knuckles.

“It's an honor, sir,” you cooed despite your heart beating wildly in your chest, curtsying low.

A small smile ghosted his mouth, an echo of Rabastan's. “No wonder my son is so besotted, it's rare to meet such a competent young lady. Let alone one as striking as you.”

Besotted. You caught Rodolpus and Rabastan exchange a look, Rodolpus a teasing smirk, Rabastan a half-hearted glare.

“I only have my parents to thank for my nature, sir,” you said, and your parents beamed.

Reinhard chuckled. “So, what went wrong with your brother then?” Reinhard teased, surprising you with his sense of humor.

“Well, there's always one,” you shrugged, glancing at Rodolpus, and Reinhard burst out laughing.

Rabastan gave you a proud wink, and you bit your lip to stop from grinning. Rodolpus chuckled too, elbowing his brother, and you exhaled in relief. Maybe you could do this.

“Quite right, darling. Lucky Bella didn't hear that though, she's rip those pretty eyes right out.” Reinhard clapped Rodolpus on the shoulder. “Come, dinners about to begin.”

Rabastan swooped in as your party began to move, looping your arm through his. He looked wonderful, like one of those American movies stars, so dapper in his perfectly pressed black suit.

He leaned down towards you, keeping you close as you navigated the crowd. “Masterfully done, darling. I haven't seen my father laugh in weeks.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, waving at Evan and Regulus as you walked past them, their jaws a bit slack as they stared at you.

Rab cast them a warning glare, and they snapped their heads back to one another. “You look beautiful, though I doubt it needs to be said considering the trail of broken necks.”

“It's the dress, Rab. It's the most beautiful thing I've ever worn,” you said, looking up at him through dark lashes. “I'm so grateful.”

He leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “You'll have a closet full of the finest things, little doe.”

You reached the table and he pulled a chair out for you. You sat down, letting him slide you closer to he table before taking his seat beside you, to the right of his brother. Thorfinn sat beside your father, who was at Reinhards left. Your brother cast you an appraising glance, but turned his attention back to your father with barely an acknowledgement. Your heart deflated a bit.

Rabastan shook his head, frowning at the hurt tugging down the corners of your mouth. “And I thought my brother was an arse.”

“I resent that,” Rodolpus muttered, taking a sip of champagne. His wild-haired wife sat beside him, curled around his arm like a snake, her eyes meandering over your face.

Bellatrix Lestrange, once a Black. You could see the Black genes written all over her, from the bone structure to the haunting gray eyes. A jilted pang made you wince down at your plate.

How badly you wished Sirius was here. And he would be, you supposed, if Walburga and Orion Black weren't despicable wastes of oxygen.

You glanced down the table, finding them sitting with Regulus' between them, his eyes cast down at his plate while his parents talked over his head. From the movement of Walburgas mouth, you knew what they were talking about: Sirius.

Regulus felt your gaze and looked up, his eyes connecting with yours. His jaw feathered with tension, and thread of connection in spooling between you. He must see the hurt reflected in your eyes well.

You looked away.

Dinner dragged down for what felt like eons, tiny plate after tiny plate of priceless, exotic food, and endless flutes of champagne.

After dessert, Rabastan coaxed you out onto the dancefloor, where you waltzed and turned for another hour or so. But you couldn't get Regulus' expression out of your mind, couldn't shake the harrowing feeling it left behind.

We aren't supposed to be here, it screamed.

You'd never particularly enjoyed these parties, volleying with Sirius had always been your favorite part even if you'd never admit it. You felt his absence like a missing rib.

Had you ever missed Rabastan like that? Felt a moment was lacking, a meal was tasteless, a song was hollow, because Rabastan wasn't there to enjoy it with you?

The answer came with dizzying clarity: not even once.

But you felt it constantly with Sirius. Even at the wretched party, you so wished he could hear the sonorous band, or got to taste the bizarrely sweet squid patté just so you could exchange the same disgusted glance.

Everything felt brighter, lighter with Sirius.

But, the toll of the Lestrange clocktower sounded like a death knell. There was no going back.

You heart fractured, sending a wave of despair so intense, you stumbled over Rabastan’s foot.

He hauled you closer to his chest, steadying you. “Are you alright, darling?” He murmured, gently brushing your hair from your forehead. “Ready to sit for a spell?”

You nodded, allowing him to escort you towards a set of chairs in a quieter corner of the party. He flagged down a waiter to bring you a glass of water, and procured a fan from another.

“I have some business to discuss with my father, will you be alright on your own for a bit?” He asked, petting the top of your head.

“I'm alright, thank you, Rab,” you replied, taking a sip of water to try and force down the knot of emotion in your throat.

He kissed your cheek before disappearing into the crowd. You noticed your brother peel off from his place at the bar with some girl to follow him, and alarm bells sounded in the back of your mind.

You had a terrible, bone-deep feeling that the business they were discussing was you.

When you looked around, no one was paying you any mind. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and neither were the male Lestrange's.

This might be your only chance to find out what they had in store for you.

As quickly as you could without drawing attention, you made your way out of the party and up to your room, fanning yourself and hoping anyone that noticed you would simply think you were poorly and retiring to your room.

You ditched your heels and grabbed the invisibility cloak, wrapping around yourself. You watched yourself disappear in the mirror, and a thrill of excitement shot up your spine. Sirius' cologne still lingered on the fabric, and it brought you a bit of comfort.

After stuffing some pillows under your duvet, you slipped out of the room, invisible as a wraith, a closed the door softly behind you. You hurried down the halls of the massive manor, wracking your brain to remember the brief tour their house Rabastan gave you upon arrival. You turned down the hall you remembered him skipping over, the walls decorated with art too fine to be unimportant like he'd implied.

A few feet down the hall, you could hear your father's voice floating through a crack in the door.

“This is my daughter we're talking about, Lestrange,” he bit.

“What you're proposing is absurd, Rowle,” Reinhard replied, sounding almost bored. “Especially considering it seems she'd marry my son of her own volition.”

“Not without our permission, she wouldn't. And she will have no such blessing until the amount is paid in full.”

Your throat dried. What amount?

Rabastan chuckled, the sound low and patronizing. “You think she cares what you think, Thorfinn?”

“Of course she does,” your father snapped. “Don't pretend you know her, or care about her.”

Silence echoed around the hall, drawn to a razors edge. You shifted to peer into the room, finding Rabastan leaning against his father's desk, eyes dark with rage.

Thorfinn stepped between Rabastan and your father, and Rodolpus moved to stand beside his younger brother, looking decidedly more casual than the rest of them.

Rodolpus alone could mop the floor with your family, and they knew it.

“Care about her?” Rabastan growled. “Have you not come to my house to sell her like merchandise?”

“Rabastan,” Reinhard warned.

Rabastan pushed off the desk, prowling closer. “Merchandise, which, I feel inclined to mention, you damaged?”

Your stomach dropped, and Thorfinn blanched.

“What?” Your father hissed, turning to Thorfinn.

“Damaged how?” Reinhard asked, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder.

Rabastan went quiet, letting Thorfinn sweat, before he shook his head. “Damaged metaphorically, of course,” he said, leaning back against the desk and Thorfinn sagged a bit in relief.

“Regardless, you ask too much, Rowle,” Reinhard continued, casting a warning glare at Rabastan.

“How much would a daughter of your own be worth, Reinhard?” Your mother asked, and you gasped. Your mother was never one to speak out of turn.

Reinhard’s expression darkened. “That's the difference between us, witch. I would never put a price on my child's head,” he snarled. “I've only agreed to be a part of this because my son insisted.”

You braced a hand on the wall, shock rocking through you. Not only were they trying to sell you, Rabastan wanted to buy you?

“Father—”

“Enough. I know you're soft on the girl, but—”

“Fine,” your father interrupted, making Reinhard grit his teeth. “Make it 15,000 galleons.”

You felt like you might be sick. How could you family do this to you? Thorfinn's words earlier echoed in your mind. The business is not going well. You may be our last hope.

You didn't realize he meant it so literally.

Reinhard looked at Rabastan. “Is she worth it, son?”

You couldn't stick around for his answer. You took off down the hall, bare feet slapping on the marble, tears streaming down your face.

An arranged marriage, one of mutual gain, was one thing, but to be sold? It made you sick. How could Rabastan agree to that? How could he touch you, kiss you, knowing that he was purchasing you like livestock? Had you ever had a choice? Would they drag you down the aisle in shackles?

You pushed your way through the party and out the grand front doors, flying down the steps. The ground was frigid and rough beneath your bare feet, but you ran anyways, leaving the shadow of Lestrange Manor far behind you.

You couldn't get back Hogwarts without the train, and there was only one other place you could think of to go.

In a sickening whirl of color, the spell spit you out on the stone steps of candlelit porch, framed with enchanted flowers that bloomed brightly despite the winter chill: Potter Manor.

You stared up at the front door, heart racing so fast you could barely breathe. There was no turning back from this.

You reached a hand up and knocked three times.

A few moments later, James pulled open the door, dressed like he was about to go to sleep. Fuck, you hadn't even considered how late it was.

“Y/n?” He asked, adjusting his glasses.

“I'm sorry, I—”

“Y/n?” Sirius pushed in front of James, eyes wide. He was shirtless, flannel sweatpants slung low. His smattering of archaic ink a stark contrast to his fair skin, and for a second you forgot what you were doing here. “Are you okay?” Sirius asked, ushering you into the foyer and closing the door. “Are you hurt?” He pushed the cloak from your shoulders, revealing the gown you were wearing, and his eyes widened in surprise.

“No, no. I—” a sob welled up, choking off your voice.

“Oh, darling, come here.” He bundled you into his chest, wrapping his arms protectively around your body while you cried into the curve of his neck, fists balled up against his abdomen. “Sh, sh, it's alright, love. I've got you,” he murmured into your hair, pressing kisses into the side of your head. “I've got you now.”

He held you a bit tighter, lifting you into a bridal holding, making you cry harder.

“What's going on?” You heard an unfamiliar man ask, and you clung tighter to Sirius, fear streaking through you.

“Shh, it's James' father. You're safe,” he whispered, carrying you across the house and depositing you onto a chaise in a sitting room.

Distantly, you could hear James explaining who you were in a hushed voice.

“I didn't know where else you go,” you sniffled, taking a stuttering inhale. “I'm sorry for barging in.”

“Nonsense,” he shushed you, crouching down in front of you and offering a handkerchief. “You're right where your meant to be.”

You dabbed your eyes and nose, smearing mascara all over the clean fabric and cringed.

“Can you tell me what happened, love?” He asked, brows furrowed with concern.

“They—he—” your voice splintered, another wave of panic and sobs dragging you under.

“Okay, you don't have to say anything.” He shifted to sit on the couch and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you trembled. You buried your face into his neck and let yourself cry, and cry, and cry.

All the stress and fear of the last few weeks bubbled up and poured out of you until you were gasping, hollowed out and raw.

Something shuffled in the room, and you suddenly remembered you were not alone. Sirius appeared to have the same realization, glancing over his shoulder at his friend and his parents.

You braced yourself for the barrage of questions, but instead you heard James’ mother murmur, “Would she like some tea?”

“Love?” Sirius asked, turning to you. “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head, embarrassment scorching your cheeks. “M'okay, thank you Mrs. Potter,” you mumbled.

“Chamomile tea would be great, mama, thank you,” Sirius answered for you, a twinge of exasperated affection in his voice.

“’Course. Be back in a bit,” she said, her voice so gentle it brought tears to your eyes once again, and you heard three sets of slippers shuffle out.

“Look at me,” Sirius murmured, cradling your face and lifting your head from the crook of his shoulder. “I need to apologize for yesterday. I let my own feelings cloud my judgement and I—I’m so sorry if I frightened you.”

“It frightened me because it was true.” You barely recognized your own voice, hoarse and small. “Because I wasn't ready to face it.”

“And now?” His gray eyes welled with something dangerously close to hope, and your heart gave a silly little flip.

For the first time, you didn't try to fight it. You just let the feeling bloom in your chest, warm and glittery, and you nodded into his neck, wrapping an arm around his middle.

“Now I know that I was building my life, myself, around a lie. None of it was real—” tears threatened to choke you again, but you fought them down. “How I feel about you is the only thing I know isn't stained by their lies. I know that it comes from me, the real me. And that’s why it scared me so much. They taught me not to trust myself…”

Sirius was quiet, eyes glossy with unshed tears, his thumb catching a stray tear as it rolled down your cheek.

You weren't sure if you were ready to give voice to what you heard, but you wanted to offer some kind of explanation for your sudden appearance. “I overheard something, and my instincts were screaming at me, and I just…I listened.”

“That's good, love. That was the right thing to do,” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles around your back. “And I'm glad you came here.”

James sauntered into the sitting room, tray in hand. “I was wondering where the cloak went,” he said, crouching down in front of you and handing you a mug of tea. “You alright, mate?”

Mate. The word made your broken heart glow.

“I thought you ran it by him?” You asked, quirking a brow at Sirius.

Sirius shrugged. “James is a loud mouth.”

“Hey!”

“I heard you tried to go toe to toe with my brother,” you said, providing further proof of Sirius' accusation.

“And I'd do it again,” James huffed. “I'll do it now, if you want. Where is he?”

“Not Thorfinn, unfortunately. But you can tangle with me, if you'd like.” A low voice filled the room, startling the three of you to your feet. Rabastan stood leaned against the doorway, twirling his wand in his fingers. “Trusting sort, the Potters. Let me right in.”

James bolted out of the room in search of his parents and Sirius withdrew his wand, tugging you behind him.

“What did you do?” Sirius growled, and Rab rolled his eyes.

“Nothing, cousin. Now, get your hands off of my girl.” Rab straightened to his full height, but Sirius didn't falter.

Fuck this. “I heard you,” you snapped, stepping out from behind Sirius and raising your own wand as you stalked towards him. “I heard you talking with my parents. You fucking bought me?”

Rabastan's smug smile dropped. “No, I--”

“What am I worth, Rabastan? 15,000 galleons? Twenty?” you hissed, jabbing your wand under his chin.

“You didn't stick around for my answer, darling?” He countered, taking a step forward, closing the gap between you. “I said you were worth the trip to Azkaban after I gutted your brother like a fucking fish.”

You blinked. “What—”

“We were never going to buy you,” he admitted, his voice softening. “Or at least, I wasn't. I would only have you if you wanted me in return.” His fingers came up to caress your cheek, and you flinched away, taking a step back. “I thought you wanted me too,” he whispered, hurt straining the edges of his voice.

“You've been lying to me,” you said, taking another step back. “I can't trust you, or any of them.”

Rab's jaw flexed, his chin dropping to his chest in shame. “I'm sorry, little doe—”

“Don't fucking call me that.”

He turned his head like you’d slapped him, his hand flexing around his wand, eyes squeezing shut. A part of your heart ached with guilt, but you couldn’t forgive him. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

James returned, wand raised. “You need to get out, Lestrange. Now,” he ordered.

“James, wait,” Sirius said, stepping forward and placing a steady hand on your shoulder. “So, you didn't go through with it?” The question was directed at Rab, who lifted his head to meet Sirius’ eyes.

“That’s why I came,” he said, looking back at you. “I called it off. All of it. But I need you to understand, you...you can’t go home.”

“What?” Panic closed like a fist around your throat.

“I’m sorry, darl—y/n.” He took a tentative step towards you, pocketing his wand. “When we discovered that you ran, your father—he disowned you.”

You sagged to the side, Sirius catching you around the waist. They disowned you. Cast you side like damaged goods. Like you were worthless to them now. “W-what?”

The room tilted around you again, your vision tunneling to a pinprick--

“Easy, love.” Sirius eased you back onto the chaise, cupping your face in an effort to keep you tethered to consciousness. “Take a breath for me, in—good girl—now breath out. Nice and long, that’s it.”

You followed his instructions, taking big, deep breaths until the darkness at the edge of your vision receded, your heart rate starting to slow.

“All they’ve done is set you free, doll,” Sirius said, smoothing your hair from your face. “You’re going to be alright.”

“Where will I go?” You sniffed, clutching at Sirius’ shirt. Over his shoulder, you saw pain flicker across Rabastan’s face, but he looked away, towards James.

“If I provide a stipend, would your family be able to house her? Since you Potter’s like stray’s so much?” He gestured to Sirius.

“It’s up to her,” Sirius interrupted, throwing his cousin a glare. “She can go where she wants.”

“You’re more than welcome,” James said, looking past the others towards you. “We’ve got plenty of room, no stipend required.” The last bit was directed at Rab, his voice turning barbed.

“The semester’s almost over,” Sirius added. “Could stay for the summer, than get your own place in London. If that's what you want to do.”

“And we’ll keep your brother far away, if needed,” Rabastan added. “I meant what I said. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

Despite yourself, some of your resentment towards him loosened. He’d done the right thing in the end, and perhaps it wasn’t all a lie. This world had chewed you all up, one way or another, how much could you fault him for baring the scars of the monster that made him?

Those same scars nearly cost you everything. Everything being the man on his knees in front of you, the sincerest and most loyal person you'd ever known. The only person you ever trusted unconditionally and without restraint. He was everything you'd ever wanted, you'd just been to blinded by fear to see it.

“Thank you, Rab,” you murmured, and he dipped his chin. “And thank you, James,” you said, and he gave you two thumbs up. You took Sirius’ chin, turning his face to yours. “And you, Sirius, there aren’t enough ‘thank you’s’ in the world,” you whispered, and the smile he gave you was so lovesick, it nearly brought tears to your eyes.

“Don’t you dare thank me,” he said, taking your hand from his face and placing it over his heart, beating rhythmically in the center of his bare chest. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, love. I’ll maim Lestrange’s pretty face right now if you want—”

“Fuck off, mutt—”

“That won’t be necessary,” you chuckled, leaning in to peck Sirius’ lips. “But I appreciate the sentiment.”

“I suppose that’s my cue,” Rabastan said, adjusting his cuffs and looking everywhere but you and Sirius. “I’ll see you around the common room, then?”

“We’ll see—”

“Of course,” you placed a hand over Sirius’ mouth, silencing his attitude. He nibbled your palm in retaliation.

Rabastan dipped his chin in farewell and took his leave, glancing back at you a final time before stepping out into the quiet night.

You lowered your hand from Sirius’ mouth, giving him a phony scowl, and he bared his teeth, teasing you back.

“I’ll talk to my parents,” James said, rubbing the back of his head. “Sirius can show you to the empty guest room, though I suppose you won’t be using it—oi!” Sirius launched a pillow at James’ head, and he scampered away, disappearing down the hall.

Sirius turned his attention back to you, expression softening. “Are you alright, love?” He asked, holding your hands in his.

You nodded. “I’m okay…afraid, I suppose. But in a different way.” You traced the web of your fingers with your eyes, and brought your joined hands up to kiss across his scarred knuckles. “But Sirius, I’m not sure we should jump into anything quite yet.”

Sirius nodded, his eyes lingering on your lips. “We’ll go at your pace, whatever you want—so long as I can kiss you every six hours.”

You grinned, affection blooming like a burst of sunlight in your chest. “I think we can arrange that.” You leaned forward, pressing your tear-dampened lips to his, and for the first time, it didn’t hit you where it hurts the most, in your battered, bruised heart. It touched your soul instead, somewhere deeper, uncharted.

Somewhere new.

Thank you so much to everyone that read and supported this series! I'm so proud of it, and it was a joy to scream about it with you all 🫶

But don't worry, you haven't seen the last of Rabastan 😉

taglist: @lovelykat001, @carmenschemtrails, @lolalleins, @fangirl-swagg, @batboysanonymous, @watchmerora, @iheartnostalgia, @simars3, @elizabethblood9, @unstable-cucumber, @holholliday, @itisjustwhatitis

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 3 - Exam | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 409 CW: Injury, not detailed but talked about

When James broke their wrist, Regulus was the first to arrive at the infirmary, shockingly enough. 

Now, James had no doubt that he would show up, they know that he cares about them, as much as he refuses to admit it. But the fact that he was the first is what’s shocking. 

James had expected Sirius and Remus to be the first -- only excluding Pete because he was the one that helps James here -- since they were with them when their bones snapped, but they had to deal with the aftermath of everything so it makes since that they were a little delayed.

What doesn’t make sense is how fucking fast Regulus managed to get up here. He had just been complaining to James about how he was tired and was planning to spend the rest of his day cooped up in his dorm all the way down in Slytherin to sleep off the exhaustion coming from his post-exam sleepless week. Meaning not only was he all the way down in Slytherin and still managed to hear the news nearly as soon as it happened, but he also managed to rush all the way to the medical wing while exhausted and probably just roused before any of the people that were actually in the situation or nearby. 

James adores their boyfriend and his magic ability to just be somewhere so long as it means he gets to yell at James for being stupid -- lovingly, James knows that he’s doing it because that’s how he knows to care and they adore him for it. 

But here Regulus is, sitting on the edge of the bed next to James, holding their non-broken hand while Poppy takes a look at the injury and gently scolding him -- much to Poppy and Pete’s amusement. He’s still doing so when Sirius and Remus finally manage to stumble into the medical wing. 

“How the fuck are you here already?” Sirius asks when he finally walks up to James’ bed and sees his younger brother, pointing at the younger boy with an accusatory finger. 

Regulus doesn’t answer, and Sirius stares at him for a while before moving on and going to ask James about how they’re doing. 

James suspects that Regulus’ quick arrival has something to do with a good relationship with Madam Pomfrey when she shoos everyone away so she can work her -- literal -- magic on James’ wrist. Everyone except for Regulus, who's allowed to stay.

[fictionalsimp09]

bad idea - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - 348 words - AO3

Sirius has had a lot of bad ideas in his lifetime, but this has got to be in the top five. It’s bad enough he dragged him to the Gryffindor common room, claiming Regulus needs to get to know his friends better. Now he wants to play Never Have I Ever? He’s a moron; Regulus has so many stories from their childhood he could use against him. 

“I’ll start,” Peter says. “Never have I ever…got so drunk I slept in clothes covered in my own vomit.” 

“We’re targeting people already?” James asks before taking a sip from his glass. Oh, how he knows how to pick them. His boyfriend done that? Gross. 

A few more rounds later, Regulus has only drank once (obviously everyone drank when Lily said, “Never have I ever done drugs.”) 

“Never have I ever kissed someone in this room,” Marlene smiles mischievously, looking towards Mary, “more than once.” 

Regulus inhales, no one knows about him and James. Not yet. They’re waiting for his relationship with Sirius to get stronger after everything their parents put them through. He sees Lily, Mary, Sirius and Remus all drink. Then James. 

Now’s as good a time as ever to tell everyone. 

“What?” Sirius screams. “Who?” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters! I want to know who has kissed my baby brother, more than once!” 

Regulus’ eyes flick to James, noticing his nervousness. But Sirius saw, turning to his best friend. “How could you?” 

“I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” he rambles. “But we didn’t want you to react badly. We want you to be supportive of us. I love him, Pads.” 

“You love him?” 

“You love me?” 

James’ cheeks turn crimson as he remembers Regulus is in the room with them. “Um, yeah. Yeah, I love you, Reg.” 

“Oh, okay. I do too.” 

“You do?” 

Regulus nods and James crosses the circle, kissing him like there’s no tomorrow. It breaks too soon, courtesy of Sirius’ gagging. 

“I do not like this,” his brother interjects, “but if you’re happy…” 

“We are,” he assures him. 

“I need another drink.” 

[bradleysass]

Pine - @black-brothers-microfic - wc: 650 - Starchaser + Sirius

James Potter had always been a man with a plan. That plan, however, had been spectacularly failing for five years.

For five long years, he had been in love with Regulus Black. Five years of subtle glances, charming grins, and carefully placed love notes scribbled onto napkins, sticky notes, and sometimes, on the corner of Regulus’s meticulously organized notebooks. And for five years, Regulus had responded with the same level of enthusiasm one would give to an unsolicited email—mildly annoyed at best, completely indifferent at worst.

James had held onto hope, of course. How could he not? He was James Potter—stupidly optimistic, annoyingly persistent, and tragically in love with his best mate’s younger brother. And now, by some cruel twist of fate (or perhaps Sirius’s own misguided attempt at playing matchmaker), Regulus had moved into their shared flat.

If James thought he had trouble getting Regulus’s attention before, it was nothing compared to the obstacle of a closed bedroom door.

Regulus was a ghost in their flat. He emerged only in the dead of night to make tea, moving like a shadow through their kitchen, and somehow always managed to slip back into his room before James could so much as croak out a greeting.

Sirius, of course, found the whole thing hilarious. “Mate, I think it’s time to admit defeat.” He was lounging on the sofa, watching James stare longingly at Regulus’s firmly shut door like a dog left out in the rain.

James groaned and flopped down next to him. “There has to be a way. I mean, what do I have to do? I’ve tried everything. I left him handwritten notes, I bought him coffee—”

“You left those notes anonymously, didn’t you?” Sirius pointed out, smirking.

“Yeah, because it’s romantic,” James argued. “Mystery, intrigue, all that.”

Sirius snorted. “He probably thinks they’re from a serial killer.”

James groaned again and buried his face in a pillow. “I’m doomed.”

“No, you’re just painfully bad at this.” Sirius patted his back, far too amused by the whole thing. “But lucky for you, I’m feeling generous. Reg tends to come out when I’m not home. So, tomorrow, I’ll be conveniently out for the evening.”

James lifted his head. “You mean—?”

“You get your shot, mate.”

It was a shot James would not waste.

—

The next evening, James found himself strategically stationed in the kitchen, waiting. And sure enough, at precisely ten past midnight, Regulus emerged, clad in his usual oversized sweater, hair slightly messy from sleep.

James held his breath as Regulus moved toward the kettle, seemingly unaware of his presence. That was, until James cleared his throat.

Regulus froze mid-motion, eyes flicking up to meet James’s, and for the first time in five years, James didn’t look away.

“Hey,” James said, voice softer than he intended.

Regulus’s fingers curled around his mug. “You’re awake.”

James grinned. “I live here.”

Regulus hummed, noncommittal, and turned back to his tea.

“Look,” James started, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m just gonna say it—five years is a long time to pine, and frankly, I’m exhausted.”

Regulus blinked, clearly caught off guard. “You… what?”

James took a deep breath. “I like you, Reg. A lot. Always have. I left those notes because I was too much of a coward to say it to your face. But you’re here now, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t want you to notice me.”

Silence. James’s heart pounded. And then—

“I noticed.”

James stared. “You—what?”

Regulus exhaled, looking down at his tea like it held all the answers. “I knew they were from you. I just… didn’t know what to do with it.” He finally met James’s gaze, and for the first time, there was something there—uncertainty, maybe, but also something warm, something hopeful. “But I’m noticing you now.”

James’s breath hitched. “Yeah?”

Regulus gave the smallest of nods. “Yeah.”

[byreggstarz]

@taylorswiftmicrofic / jegulus, rosekiller/ 229 words / bad idea / NSFW

“Why can’t you support me in this one?” Regulus asked. He didn’t know which was James’ problem.

“It’s pretty difficult to support you now, Reg” James responded in a calm tone.

“I’ve been suffering for years. This is just a little push. You did the same with Sirius and Remus and it ended well” he reasoned.

“Look, I’m not saying it’s a bad idea, it’s just a bad way to do it” James complained. Again. Which was his problem?

“You’re telling me you’re not tired of Evan and Barty being so oblivious? Don’t start lying to me now, please” Regulus scoffed at James.

“I am, but chaining Evan to Barty isn’t going to help them, is going to make it worse”

“I’ll chain them until they realise. I hear Barty doing stuff every night and it’d be good if Evan tells him to put a silencing charm before starting” Regulus could be reasonable too.

“But didn’t you say sometimes he says Evan’s name and he still doesn’t realise? Some chains aren’t going to make it better. We could just lock them in a closet for a few hours” James suggested.

“Ok. But it isn’t original, I know that’s what you did with my brother and Remus” Regulus finished.

“Now I’m going to make you scream a name and it won’t be Evan’s” James said later that night.

“Fuck off”

[jamespotterlovesreggie]

Bad Idea - A Jegulus micro fic

micro prompt challenge 02/02/25 @taylorswiftmicrofic

It was a nice and sunny day , they were home from Hogwarts for the summer and this one looked a little bit different as Sirius and Regulus now lived with the Potters . They were down at the beach and Sirius had been plotting with Barty to get Regulus in the water.

"This a bad idea padfoot , I can guarantee this will not end well" James warned his best friend.

" Oh it'll be fine" Sirius replied , not listening to James.

"Okay it's your funeral" James already knew how Regulus would react and he wanted no part of it.

James got into a conversation with Remus when all of a sudden they heard a yell.

"SIRIUS ORION BLACK , I SWEAR TO MERLIN I WILL KILL YOU" Regulus yelled at his brother.

"It was Barty's idea I swear" Sirius was quite obviously nervous now .

"Oh really , Care to explain Bartemius." Regulus said in a low , dangerous tone.

"He's lying , it was all him" Barty was actually telling the truth for once.

Regulus couldn't be sure so he called James over . He knew James wouldn't lie because he loves Regulus so much potentially even more than he loves Sirius.

" Jamie my love , who's idea was it to throw me in the water" Regulus asked sweetly.

" It was Sirius's " James replied than immediately clapped his hand over his mouth when he realised what he said, this earnt him a glare from Sirius .

James was the next one to end up in the water.

[veritas-scribblings]

3. out of control | words: 2,325 | M for some mild sexual content | jegulus, platonic prongsfoot, some polyamory, implied bartylus, subtle "really read between the lines" rosestarkillerchaser | [early morning <- previous part | next part -> home]

(October, 1982)

James knows that something will go wrong the moment he sees them walking in. It begins when all the blood in his body immediately pools south the moment he lays eyes on Regulus. Regulus with his pale-yet-flushed cheeks. Regulus with his silky hair that falls into his eyes in loose curls. Regulus with his half-unbuttoned shirt, which should be illegal because James can see his chest. 

James wants to debauch him.

But he can’t. He can’t because Lily is across the room. He can’t because Sirius is here, and everything is already fragile and incredibly loaded. He can’t because…because…because everything. And he doesn’t know what to do. James has managed to keep everything so very, neatly separate and compartmentalised for so very, very long.

But now he feels like everything is about to explode.

It’s Dorcas’s birthday; the one time when their social circles overlap. Marlene, being Marlene, planned this elaborate event with promises of ‘much lubrication’. Because she’s filthy like that. And because Marlene is Marlene and really likes drama, and Dorcas obviously has her own friends, they’ve managed to convince Regulus to make an appearance.

Regulus, unfortunately, comes attached with Barty Crouch Junior and Evan Rosier. It was the only way they could get Regulus to agree to attend.

And James knows: everything is going to explode.

The music is loud; Marlene has amplified it with a Sonorus charm and James can barely hear himself think. Across the lounge, through the throng of bodies, Lily is behind the makeshift bar brewing cocktails. The ‘Lily Special’, Marlene calls it, tinged with magic that makes you sing or breathe bubbles. Mostly harmless stuff. But Barty has been fighting to get his ‘Barty Special’ behind the bar, which James knows isn’t the best idea. Mainly because of where the ‘Barty Special’ got him last time. 

“Lookin’ morose, Potter. All broody.” Marlene elbows him between the ribs. She drops herself down onto the couch beside him and passes him a drink: one of the Lily Specials. James’s agitation is giving Marlene far too much of a thrill, because Marlene is a little shit who gets joy out of other people’s discomfort. 

James cautiously sets the drink aside. Though he wants to down it to try and drown his worries, he knows he’s going to need a clear head to avoid future fuck-ups.

“What’s got your pants in a knot?” Marlene asks, conversationally. “Let me guess. Your ex-girlfriend is behind the bar brewing drinks, getting everyone lubricated, a strong, independent woman. Your best friend looks like he wants to murder someone. Maybe you. Maybe his brother. Your boyfriend, his brother, who you happen to be shagging also looks like he wants to murder someone. Maybe his brother. Maybe your ex-girlfriend. More likely you, because you, James Potter, have been avoiding him all night.”

Fuck it. Because she’s right. He has been avoiding Regulus, and Regulus has been furious about it, hitting him with icy-cold stares of death all night. And James? James is weak. James is a coward. James’s Gryffindor lionheart has wilted and died.

Sirius has never seen them together, and James is just not prepared for the fallout.

James downs the entire ‘Lily Special’ cocktail in one go, a smoking, pearlescent concoction. Swallows too much air. Hiccups a glistening, shimmering bubble. The bubble smells like lemon. The cocktail tastes like peach. It’s damned confusing.

Marlene is right. Sirius sits on a the bench by the bay windows with the darkest, angriest expression James has seen on him in a very long time. He’s watching someone across the room. From the looks of things, he’s been watching that someone for a while. Intensely. Hands gripping his cocktail glass, which surprisingly has yet to shatter under the pressure of his grip.

“Does it bother you, Potter, that they actually look like they’re about to fuck,” Marlene asks casually. She takes a sip of her drink, all innocent like, and smiles up at him sweetly.

“They who?” James asks. A bubble escapes his lips when he speaks.

Marlene elbows him again and nods across the room to the spot Sirius is staring at. She’s right again, he realises. They do look like they’re about to…fuck.

Barty has Regulus in his arms, holding him so closely they may as well one one. All tangled limbs. Leg between Regulus’s. They’re kissing. They’re moving together to the music. Grinding. Barty has his face buried in Regulus’s neck. Regulus has his head thrown back. He’s getting off on it, James knows, because James knows that look.

He has taken something. Most likely a ‘Barty Special’.

And of course Sirius wants to murder someone. James had been wrong; Sirius wants to murder Barty. There's darkness, there's anger. He’s most likely plotting just the murder might go down.

“Huh. So I was under the impression that Crouch is dating Rosier. And that you’re dating…baby Black…but that…” Marlene seems to note that James is not upset, he’s merely annoyed, because she shrugs and holds a hand up and says, “Hey, look, I’m not about to judge your sex life. Whatever kinky shit’s going on in your bedroom…or their bedroom…”

“Fuck,” James mutters. The song changes to ‘Back in Black’. He feels the beat pounding like a pulse in his chest; it gives him the internal boost he needs. “Shit. On a disaster scale of 1 to 10?”

“12,” Marlene says firmly. “I reckon, if you don’t want anyone losing an eye or an appendage, I’d intervene, like, ten minutes ago.”

James sighs and scans the room. Evan is leaning up against a wall by the door, shadowed, like he’s trying his damndest to avoid human contact and ensure his own ability to flee. James shoves his way over. “You go get your boyfriend,” he says, “and I’ll go get mine.”

Evan snickers and leans back against the wall, folds his arms over his chest. “Why? I’m enjoying the scene.”

“Look.” James grits his teeth, feels the heat of a memory flush in his cheeks, draining down his neck. He’s probably tinged red, and maybe he could pretend it’s the buzz of the alcohol, but he knows it’s not. And Evan knows it too. “I don’t need anyone…asking questions.”

“Embarrassed?” Evan drawls. “Hogwarts is a distant memory, and yet you’re still…such a Gryffindor. Besides, not the scene I’m enjoying. Not that it they’re not hot and all. How long do you think it’ll take before his head explodes?”

He means Sirius, who is still staring intently at Barty and James. Every once in a while, Sirius looks over at James like James will have a lot to answer for later. After Sirius is done freezing him out.

“I’m not emb—” James groans, frustrated. “I just mean, if you don’t want Sirius having a go at Barty…”

“Barty can handle himself. I’m pretty sure he’s taken Sirius on before.”

James rolls his eyes. He can handle this himself. When he stalks off, he sees out of the corner of his eyes Evan reluctantly following him.

Barty and Regulus are still wrapped around each other. Barty practically hisses when he see’s James. It is not unusual for the territorial heart that resides inside the little freak. It’s more than likely, James figures, that Regulus is upset with him and Barty is protective on his behalf.

Evan wraps his arms around Barty’s waist and pulls him backward, and James carefully works on untangling Regulus’s limbs. Regulus sighs and lays his head on James’s shoulder. 

“You’re a bitch,” Regulus says into his neck. They sound like Barty’s words.

He’s drunk, James knows. He’s also some level of high. Cheeks flushed, Regulus kisses James's neck and James has to cut off a moan when Regulus’s hand dips between them and he cups James’s crotch and he massages gently.

“Hey, hey, no. Not here. Sirius is watching,” James murmurs by Regulus’s ear, pushing his hand away. When Regulus makes a fussy sound and tries to leave, James traps him in the circle of his arms.

“You taste like fireworks,” Regulus says, nipping at his chin. He smells sweet, like coconuts and vanilla. His tongue, his lips work a pathway up James’s neck, causing James’s breath and heartbeat to quicken. He can feel it pulse between them.

“Love, what did you take?” James tries not to groan, but Regulus is so damned handsy, which is unusual for Regulus. And stress and arousal have been James’s companions all night. “Let’s go get you a drink…some water.”

James pulls Regulus over to the couch, where Marlene is still planted watching everything unfold with great interest. He tries to deposit Regulus onto the couch, but Regulus doesn’t let go and they go tumbling forwards together. 

When Evan arrives with Barty, planting himself between Regulus and Barty for good measure, James notices Sirius storming off across the room.

“Fuck,” he swears, “Evan, get him a—just make sure they don’t do anything stupid.” James races after Sirius, pushing his way through the crowd. 

Sirius is sitting on the door step outside smoking, a terrible habit he’s picked up recently. It’s dark outside and the autumn air is fresh with a slight bite to it. Sighing, James drops down next to Sirius and draws his knees to his chest.

Wordlessly, Sirius passes James the cigarette. James takes a drag, coughs up a lung, and passes it back. 

“It’s…” he hedges. “...he’s plastered. I think…Barty gave him something.”

“Barty Special,” Sirius comments. Takes another long drag from the cigarette. “He’s such a fucking arsehole.” He casts a sidelong glance at James and rolls his eyes. “I’m not mad at you, so you can stop looking like I’m going to rip your head of. I know what they’re like. Everyone knows what they're fucking like."

Letting out a long breath, James leans back, laying down on the ground, half in the house, half out of the house. He can hear the beat of the music in the distance, the chatter of voices merging into a single, shapeless blob. 

“I gave you my blessing, didn’t I?” Sirius says solemnly.

James blinks up at him. “Um…no? I think your words were, 'I don’t want anything to do with this'?” Sirius had frozen him out for a long time when James had admitted that he was quickly and hopelessly falling for Regulus. 

“Well, I maintain that. I am not in the least bit interested in details.”

“And I, too, am not in the least bit interested in giving you any details,” James agrees eagerly, sitting up.

“Good, I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Okay, so, what’s eating you, Pads?”

Sirius lays his head down on James’s shoulder and sighs a long, drawn out sigh. He tucks himself under James’s arm, snuggling close, staring up at the night sky, which is clear and speckled with stars. “Can’t see me, this time of the year,” he says.

He doesn’t want to talk about it, James knows. He’s bothered about Regulus—Regulus, who still won’t talk to him—and it has nothing to do with James, apparently. Maybe it doesn’t even have anything to do with Barty? It likely has to do with whatever occurred between the brother way back after their parents died. Something they won’t talk about.

James nudges Sirius and Sirius makes a fussy sound, so remarkably like Regulus that it leaves a weird, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of James’s stomach. “Well, what did you go with? Boils? Bat-bogey? Good ol’ fashioned quartering?”

“Death by a thousand lashes,” Sirius says darkly. “Slowly.”

James hums. He pulls Sirius down over to the lawn and they lay on the ground again. The sky is clearer like this; it gives Sirius comfort.

It gives Regulus comfort too. They’re similar like that, though they’ll never admit it.

“Barty isn’t half-bad,” James comments. “Sometimes I think you guys’d get along smashingly if…if you didn’t hate each other so much.”

“You’re nuts,” Sirius mutters. “That doesn’t make any sense. Too many blows to the head in quidditch practice, Prongsie. Gotta get you guys helmets.”

“He’s just…weirdly loyal.”

James doesn’t need to look at Sirius to know that Sirius is rolling his eyes. “Tried to literally murder me kinda loyal. Or you forgotten that so quickly?”

“Violent tendencies aside, he’s okay,” James says. He can’t explain it. Barty is insane. The kind of chaos where you’ll always see him coming, you just won’t know what he’s about to do. He’s territorial. He loves to bait people for the drama.

But James…sometimes he just doesn’t mind Barty. Sometimes he likes him. And maybe it’s…

James clears his throat and tries to shake the images away. It feels wrong thinking about it around Sirius. The way he can feel the heat in his blood rising and spreading and pooling. Feel the heat in the memory of those hands on his skin.

“I won’t say anything,” Sirius says quietly. He’s staring up at the sky, tracing the constellations, James knows. He won’t look at James because Sirius does not do feelings. He's practically allergic to them.

“He’s okay,” James says. “He’s good. Regulus is good. He…got the job at the apothecary. Still plays quidditch on the weekends. Oh, he’s trying to grow this rare herb at his house for these potions he’s brewing at the apothecary. And then his cat ate it, and we had to take it to the animal healer. It was this whole thing.”

James turns, looks at Sirius, who’s resting with his head on James’s arm. “I tell him about you,” he says gently. He talks to Regulus about Sirius, and Regulus doesn’t say anything. Much like Sirius, he is always quiet, but he always listens. 

Sirius hums and closes his eyes. He rolls into James’s arms. He smells like smoke, and he’s a little bit tipsy. Sirius won’t say anything, James knows. The way that Regulus won’t say anything. Because both brothers are too stubborn. Too proud.

And maybe that’s wherein the problem lies.

[grimst4rs]

James fell limply in his chair, giving a weary smile that came across as more of a grimace than anything to the two boys running through the kitchen, their younger brother trailing after them.

“Give me my book back, Bill!”

“Come and get it, Percy!”

The sun hadn’t risen yet. The dim lights in the kitchen were the only thing that helped darkness not consume them. James ran a hand across his stubbled face, sighing deeply.

Outside, a motorcycle roared. Not a few seconds passed before Remus and Sirius stepped inside. Sirius took off his helmet and pushed his long hair out of his face, before he looked at James.

“Where’s Marlene?”

James looked down at his shoes.

“Fuck,” Sirius cursed under his breath, standing in the doorway which made its way to the kitchen. Remus swallowed deeply, them moved next to the fireplace.

“Where’s Lily?” He asked, cautiously.

“Putting Ron to bed with Molly. Harry won’t go to sleep.”

Sirius paced a few steps, his boots heavy against the wood floor. “You didn’t— and you didn’t even have a chance to—”

“No,” James cut him off sharply, rubbing his hands over his face again. “We didn’t have a chance. It was—just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “She was gone before I even knew what happened. I couldn’t do anything. Cursed her off her broom.”

Lily stepped into the kitchen, Harry in her arms, eyes red. “I take he’s told you too, then.”

“She didn’t even see it coming, Lils. One moment she was flying, and the next… she was gone.”

Sirius, who had been pacing the floor like a caged animal, stopped in his tracks. “It wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

James looked up sharply, the sharpness in his voice betraying the exhaustion behind his words. “I should’ve done something.”

Before James could say anything else, the door slammed open, and Dorcas Meadowes walked in, disvelished and distraught, but determined. She stood for a second, then her eyes scanned the kitchen.

“Where is Marlene, James?” She asked, something simmering under the surface.

Lily stepped back, holding Harry tighter, sensing the storm about to break. She made eye contact with Sirius, a silent understanding passing between them. She didn’t want to be in the middle of this—not now. Not after everything. Without a word, she moved toward the door.

“I’m taking Harry upstairs.”

James wanted to stop her—wanted to plead with her to stay—but he couldn’t. The weight in his chest was too much. “I’m sorry,” he whispered as she passed, but she didn’t respond, just turned her back and walked out.

Dorcas didn’t seem to notice, her gaze still fixed on James. She took a few steps forward, and James could feel the tension build.

“Tell me,” she demanded, her voice dangerously calm. “Tell me. Now, James.”

“She’s gone, Dorcas. They killed her, in midair. We couldn’t do anything.”

She slammed her hands on the table, the force making the plates rattle. Bill and Charlie, who had been quietly watching from the other side of the room, jumped back, eyes wide in shock. Molly Weasley let out an indignant huff.

“You couldn’t do anything?” she hissed, her chest rising with each breath. “She was my friend, James! I’m supposed to believe that? That she just fell because you couldn’t do anything?”

Sirius stepped between them, back straight. “Dorcas, stop it. You’re not thinking straight. None of us were ready for this.”

But Dorcas just glared at him. Her eyes were wild, her fists clenched at her sides, and she looked like she might explode at any moment. “I don’t give a fuck about what you say, Sirius. I want to know why she’s dead. Why James? Why did you let her die?”

Without thinking, her hand raised and slapped James across the face, the sound of it ringing through the kitchen.

For a moment, everything stopped. James’s head moved to the side, his cheek stinging, but he didn’t raise his hand to defend himself. He just stared at her, the weight of her fury breaking through the cracks in his own sorrow.

“Dorcas,” Sirius growled, moving to her side in an instant and pinning her wrists together in his hands. “That’s enough.”

But Dorcas wasn’t done. She stepped back, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her anger still blazing in her eyes. She ripped her hands away from his and pointed an accusatory finger at James, her voice dripping with venom. “You should’ve saved her!”

James felt something snap inside him. He stood, his voice low but forceful. “Don’t you dare tell me what I should’ve done. I was there. I was fighting, just like she was. Marlene didn’t die because of me, Dorcas. She died because of them. Because of the Death Eaters.”

Sirius stepped forward, his face tense with frustration but his tone surprisingly calm. “James is right. We’re against them, not each other.”

Dorcas looked like she might argue with him, but the words never came. She stood there, seething, her anger still burning, “I fucking hate you, James Potter.”

She didn’t look at anyone else as she walked towards the door.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 2 - Ancestor

@jegulus-microfic February 2, Word count 478

Previous part First part

Regulus flicked his wand as he jumped from the bed. “Flipendo,” he shouted, a simple duelling spell, but effective nonetheless. 

“Protego!” Sirius cried, blocking the jinx at the last second. “Aqua Eructo!” A jet of fast-propelled water shot out of his wand right at Regulus. 

“Ascend,” Regulus said lazily, carried high above the gush of water. “Serpensortia,” He waved his wand above Sirius’s head and a long black snake slivered from the tip right on top of Sirius. 

Sirius let out a squeal of fright that was loud enough to wake their ancestor, Phineas Nigellus and the rest of the portraits and living in the castle. 

“Vipera Evanesca!” Sirius screamed as the snake raised its head to bite him. The snake vanished, and he turned his attention back to Regulus, who was slowly descending. “Expelliarmus,” Sirius cast but Regulus was too quick for him. 

“Nebulus,” Regulus countered, filling the room in an instant with a thick opaque fog. He crept forward to where he’d last seen Sirius. He wasn’t there. 

“Anteoculatia,” Sirius whispered in his ear as his wand prodded him in the back of his head. Antlers suddenly grew atop his head. 

“Sirius!” He cursed, spinning around, but Sirius was gone again. “Finite Incantartum,” The fog disappeared instantly. 

“Levicorpus!” Remus growled, and both the brothers were dragged into the air by their ankles. “Enough! Regulus apologise for making Sirius look like your mother. Sirius apologise to Regulus for not giving him a chance to apologise in the first place.” Regulus and Sirius both crossed their arms in defiance at the same time and refused to say anything. 

Sirius’s face began bubbling, and Walburga’s body was soon replaced with his own. “There, see, you’ve changed back now, Sirius, can you both just get along again?”

Regulus and Sirius stared at each other. 

“He started it,” they said in unison, pointing at each other. Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. Regulus noted how exhausted the man looked and apparently so did Sirius, because a second later he was apologising to Regulus. 

“Sorry, Reggie, I was understandably upset.” He looked at Regulus, with pleading eyes. 

“Ugh, fine,” Regulus huffed. “I’m sorry for using my far superior brew of polyjuice potion to make you look like our mother for the better part of the day,”

“Liberacorpus,” Remus cast the counter jinx on them and cast spongify on the floor so they didn’t hurt themselves. Sirius rushed over to Remus, apologising in hushed tones to him, while Regulus returned to James. 

“Feeling better now, love?” He asked jovially, pulling Regulus close. 

“Mostly,” Regulus nodded.

Peter appeared from under his bed. 

“Are you done yet?” He asked in a high, nervous voice. But before anyone could answer him, the dorm room door burst open to reveal a very stern-looking Professor McGonagall. The sixth-year Gryffindor boy's dorm room had never been so quiet. 

Next part

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

tw. killing & cannibalism mention

james killing reg & eating him for sirius/in honour of sirius ?? as a sacrifice kinda thing or maybe just as a method of getting rid of him

idk how sirius serious you intended this to be but i'm lowk obsessed...

so many ways this could go. there is the Sirius Is Bored route. sirius is bored -> sirius is frustrated. james goes genuinely insane every time sirius is anything less than content and when sirius is sick of seeing snape humiliated again and again, he goes for regulus. it starts with anonymous "pranks" and it gets worse and worse, more violent till regulus is getting maimed every other week. then sirius runs away and james shows up w a corpse 😌

or. james being jealous. which is always hot. sirius has expectations when it comes to james, he gets mad and annoyed accordingly but sirius doesn't respect regulus -> doesn't get mad at him ("he doesn't know any better"/"he can't do any better"). even when sirius runs away he just avoids the subject of his brother all together and james is pisseddd because someone who clearly is so pathetic does NOT deserve any space in sirius' heart ?? surely james should go check for himself what makes regulus so special??

so he goes and stalks him for a while but he finds nothing special, and regulus catches on to someone stalking him and is lured into a forest where james is tearing him up, trying to find something, anything, that regulus has and he doesn't - consuming him because he's just so pissed.

when james tells sirius he's upset for abt 4-5 seconds before realizing how hot james looks covered in blood (and it's for him).

and then the sirius is angry. he runs away from number twelve and just seeing regulus in school ruins his entire day. they joke about feeding him to moony and remus turns pale and goes quiet, so they stop the moony part but they're still 'joking' about killing regulus, till james catches sirius crying about it/has a nightmare and james drags regulus' unconscious body to sirius' feet &snaps his bones &tears his skin. sirius doesn't want to even see regulus anymore so james starts using his teeth.

anyway i think we should have cannibal james as a thing.

[maxdibert]

marauders era charavters with instagram HCs??

Severus is the type who only has Instagram because his friends (Lily) forced him to make one at some point in his life, and he literally never uses it except to look at other accounts he finds interesting—usually ones about people doing things or educational accounts. He has only one photo, which he uploaded because someone (Lily) made him do it so his profile wouldn’t be empty. It’s a blurry, contextless picture of the night sky. The only people following him are his Slytherin classmates, and he doesn’t follow anyone because he just saves posts and videos that interest him. He has no clue about trends, influencers, or any of that nonsense, and if you want to see pictures of him, you’ll have to check the tagged photos section, which is full thanks to other people.

Lily has the typical Instagram of an average high school girl—photos with her friends, pictures of coffee, shots of Hogwarts in autumn when the leaves start falling, and that kind of aesthetic-but-secretly-trying-to-gain-followers content while not wanting anyone to notice. Her profile bio has some motivational quote from a self-help book, and her stories are perfectly categorized: study notes, friends, and scenic landscapes. Every morning, she posts a photo with a caption that looks like it came from a sugar packet.

James is the classic guy who only posts pictures of himself doing bro things—casual “candid” shots posing with his broomstick, “candid” photos with his friend’s motorcycle. Every single one is a casual shot where he’s looking off to the side in a perfectly rehearsed pose. He also posts victory pictures from Quidditch matches and, of course, videos of his workout routines—just in case people forget he’s a total gym bro. Occasionally, he’ll share political posts in his stories, calling for justice or advocating for the rights of the oppressed, but he also posted pictures from his last trip to Kenya with his parents, where he filmed the locals and captioned it with something like "They’re so happy with so little," or took photos with kids as if they were part of a theme park attraction.

Sirius has an Instagram dedicated exclusively to pissing off his mother. He knows that his brother and cousins show her everything (okay, maybe not Regulus and Narcissa, but definitely that bitch Bellatrix), so since he knows she’s watching, he posts the most outrageous things possible: videos of himself drunk and destroying public property, clips of him spray-painting “fuck purebloods” on a wall, pictures with pro-Muggle slogans, photos of himself with his motorcycle, in Muggle clothes, and in Muggle places. His entire account is designed to make Walburga lose her mind and to prove to the world that he’s not a rich boy—until, suddenly, posts appear of his luxury trips with James to Ibiza, St. Tropez, or Capri. But don’t worry, he totally kept up his rebellious persona there too—like that one time he got drunk and jumped from one hotel balcony to another.

Remus doesn’t use Instagram much. He mostly posts photos of landscapes he likes or interesting things he sees when traveling with his parents. He has a few pictures with his friends but barely any of himself. Most of his stories are things like “Another day at the library” with a shot of his notes.

Peter posts every time he goes out with his friends. Every. Single. Time. His feed and stories are full of photos and videos of himself with James and Sirius, documenting every little thing they do. He’s the classic guy who posts a picture of four beers with the caption "Out with the lads" or uploads a group photo with a long caption like, "Another year, the four of us together, my best mates, always having the best time hahaha," followed by a summary of each friend's antics. The definition of a basic bro who has followers purely by association.

Narcissa is basically a fashion influencer. She posts daily outfit pics, skincare routines, and perfectly aesthetic couple photos with Lucius, always looking flawless in luxurious locations that she got into for free thanks to brand sponsorships. She’s like a wizarding Chiara Ferragni, constantly talking about family values, posing with her sisters, and building her whole brand around beauty, elegance, and high fashion.

Andromeda has a private Instagram because she doesn’t want certain people snooping where they don’t belong. She just posts personal stuff about her daily life—nothing special. Some pictures with friends, some travel shots, photos with Ted. Just normal person things.

Bellatrix claims she doesn’t have Instagram, but in reality, she has multiple fake accounts to spy on people she hates. She tries to get accepted by private accounts of people she dislikes just so she can expose them later.

Regulus isn’t much of a poster. He has a few pictures of Quidditch and some shots of the Slytherin common room—he’s more into capturing moments rather than being in them. He barely updates his account, maybe posting once every six or seven months. He’s the kind of person who keeps installing and uninstalling the app and frequently forgets his password because, honestly, he doesn’t care about it at all.

Lucius is Narcissa’s fiancé, and that is his entire online personality. He’s the classic rich boyfriend of a fashion influencer, posting elegant outfits that have to match hers. Half his feed is just reposts of photos she uploaded. He’s also the guy who posts pictures with his rich friends at their country club, posing with a glass of wine in one hand and a cigar in the other, even though they’re only 20 and still have baby faces. His entire aesthetic screams Burberry model.

Gilderoy has an Instagram where he fakes luxury travel to places he’s never actually been. He has a million followers, all of whom he bought. He pretends to be an up-and-coming influencer, but all of his comments are either bots or himself, using one of his 27 fake accounts to hype up his own posts. He also edits his photos to make it look like he attends important events, and honestly, he’s so good at it that people actually believe he’s that guy—even though all of his “glamorous” content is created from the basement of his house.

Barty Crouch Jr. doesn’t have Instagram because his father absolutely forbids it. He thinks letting his son expose himself online so publicly would ruin his carefully curated image.

[of-yourblazingsun]

After the Match. (436 words) Jegulus microfic. CW for swearing and sxual innuendo by teens.

Regulus touched down and hopped off his broom with barely concealed frustration. The game had been really close, just a twenty point difference, but the Gryffindor seeker had beaten him to the snitch by a hair. Nearby, his brother's team were loudly celebrating while his own were already making for the changing rooms.

"Don't," said Dorcas as she passed by. "I can hear your thoughts and it wasn't your fault. This is a team effort, and while we win together we also lose together."

"Right," said Regulus, more to appease his friend than anything.

She went ahead of him, probably to convey the same sentiment to the rest of her team as captain.

"Hey, that was a brilliant match."

Regulus turned to face James Potter, who was flushed and wind-swept and sweaty. His hair was always a bit more ridiculous after quidditch and Regulus found himself following the swooping curls with his eyes.

"Er," James said, following the silence that had been stretching between them, "I said-"

"I heard what you said, Potter."

"Right," said James, awkwardly pulling on his collar. "Well, you looked great up there." He started to turn back to the Gryffindor team, where Sirius was watching them while having a conversation with McKinnon.

"Which part?" asked Regulus.

James whipped back around. "Pardon?"

"Which part of me looked great?" clarified Regulus, taking slow steps toward the other boy.

"I saw you watching me," Regulus continued, getting right into James' personal space, looking up at him innocently. "Do you like how I ride my broom?"

James' cheeks bloomed to a deeper crimson. He couldn't seem to utter a word or look away. He swallowed audibly in the quiet between them.

"I, uh. Yes, um," James managed to croak out. He was standing stiffly, as if forbidding himself from stepping back. "You ride- uh, good."

"I ride well," Regulus corrected, relishing their closeness and the fact that he could feel the heat radiating from the other boy. James smelled good, like he had showered right before the match then gave it his all on the pitch. “I’ve been training a lot.”

“You, Regulus, fuck.” James sounded desperate, like he was more out of breath now than during the game.

“I could be persuaded,” hummed Regulus, thoroughly enjoying the way James’ eyes widened and his glasses began fogging up. Regulus leaned in to whisper in James’ ear. “If you meet me at midnight in the Astronomy Tower, we could ride under the stars.”

Regulus turned and strode towards the Slytherin changing room, leaving a spluttering James behind. It seemed he had won this match, after all.

[vinylfoxbooks]

February 4 - Skirt | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 758

It’s a no-brainer really. When the girls come into the Gryffindor common room talking about how Slughorn got on their asses about wearing pants, over the weekend and in their free time to wear as they please, there’s nothing else to do. 

It’s how they ended up here, standing around in the dorm room figuring out what skirt should be worn by who. Currently, Remus has on a mid-length brown plaid skirt that Lily pulled out for him, Sirius with a leather miniskirt that Marlene gave him directly, Pete has on a long black skirt, and James is wearing a pleated red skirt they grabbed while Marlene was presenting her options for them. 

James swirls the fabric around, smiling down at the motion of it. Sirius does the same not far away from them. 

“Ready boys?” Remus asks, pushing himself up with his cane. The group agrees and they head up and out of the dorm where the girls are waiting in the common room. 

Marlene starts cackling upon seeing them, throwing her head back, “Oh my Merlin, you guys actually did it!” 

James does a little twirl, “Of fucking course we did. Any excuse to say fuck you to authority.” They reach out their hand to help her stand up. She takes their hand and moves to stand, nodding approvingly at them and Sirius. Lily and Mary stand up as well, complimenting the guys.

Sirius claps his hands, “Well lads and ladies, where shall we go?” 

“I for one,” Marlene smiles, “Think that we should go find Regulus and Dorcas and show them the glorious scene before me.” 

“You’re getting way too much amusement in this.” Remus shakes his head.  

She shoots him a look, “You can’t fucking tell me that you’re not happy seeing Sirius in that skirt.” Remus doesn’t say anything, and she crosses her arms triumphantly like she knows that she one -- everyone does. Then he grins, walks up to James and Pete and intertwines her elbows in theirs, “Let’s go girls.” And with that, she marches out of the Gryffindor common room, Remus and Sirius following behind them hand in hand with Lily talking to Remus and Mary bringing up the rear. 

They all have different reactions to the looks, James grins at everyone who dares shoot them a disgusted look, laughing when the odd person wolf whistles at them or compliments them. They walk like that in their little entourage of women wearing pants and men wearing skirts. 

They figure that Regulus and Dorcas are in the library, so the group heads that way, not after dropping by Slughorn’s classroom -- and conveniently Snape on the way -- and getting him to see their attires. Lily runs into the library to grab the two of them while the rest of the group lingers around the hallway near it. She surfaces a couple minutes later with the whole Slytherin group in tow. 

The cackle that Barty lets out upon registering what the fuck he’s looking at is nearly immediate, joined quickly by Evan. Pandora makes their way over to Lily and Mary, asking about what is going on while Dorcas makes her way to Marlene, pressing a kiss to her cheek while Regulus ventures to James, looking him up and down rather salaciously. 

Mary grins, “Slughorn was being an asshole about us wearing pants because Merlin-forbid a woman wanting to wear something that’s not a skirt for once and so the guys all agreed to take our skirts out for a ride.”

Sirius hums, giving her a triumphant grin, “I think we rock it if I do say so myself.” 

Marlene hums, “You look better in my skirt than I do.” 

“What do you think?” James asks, smiling as he wraps his arm around their waist. They bring their arms to rest on his shoulders, holding their own hands behind his head. 

Regulus hums, looking them up and down, saying lowly, “I rather not say what I’m thinking about it, my brother is here.” James grins at him, leaning down and rubbing their nose against his. 

“Oi, you two.” Marlene calls to them, “Get a fucking room, and you’re not doing anything in my skirt.” 

James pulls away from him, pulling him around so they’re side to side and James has an arm draped around his shoulder, “I mean… it is easier with clothes off.” Regulus rolls his eyes but reaches up with his free hand to grab at the one they have dangling over his shoulder. 

“My brother!” Sirius shouts, making the group laugh.