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everythingisromant1c · 2 months ago

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p1: chemistry read w/ co-star!james

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: before filming can start, your director has to ofc find the perfect person to play your love interest, + what better way to do that than to have a chemistry read?

a/n: i will not pretend to know anything abt film/tv production so this is more than probably innaccurate 🙏 also this first one is not my best work but dw more drama will ensue. <33

full series - masterlist

You'd wanted this job more than anything. You'd worked harder than anyone you knew to kickstart your acting career and knew this opportunity was just the way to do it. When your agent called you about an audition for the lead role in a new show titled 'South Bay'—a drama named after the L.A. region itself—and gave you a sample of the pilot script, saying you fell in love with it wouldn't be a stretch. And after those few months later when you'd received the call that you'd gotten the part, it was safe to say you were walking on clouds for weeks afterward.

Your amazing director Minerva had cast you first and foremost, knowing your role was key to the show's success, and you'd already built a strong relationship with her after just a few weeks of knowing her.

After casting you, she'd informed you that the show's next order of business was finding someone to play your character's—Cassidy's—love interest, Aaron. When she'd told you that initially, you didn't think anything of it. But when she told you they already had gone through the first round of auditions for the role and that it was time for the infamous chemistry reads, you had to try your hardest to stay completely calm.

Aside from the fact that you'd soon be meeting the person you'd have to spend hours working with every day for God knows how many months, you also knew that the casting directors were going to be looking extra careful at the romantic chemistry you were supposed to have with the actors they brought in. You willed yourself not to get worked up when the morning came for the chemistry reads with the men auditioning for Aaron, and reminded yourself that your role in the show was already secured. Yet, for some reason, you were still on edge.

Luckily, the casting directors had narrowed down their options from the hundreds of actors who had come to audition for the role of Aaron originally to just a handful, making your job much easier. By the time noon came around, you'd already read from the script with three different candidates.

Just as you'd expected, they each had done a close-to-perfect job in their auditions. Your personal favorite was the second actor you'd read lines with, a sandy-haired guy named Remus who you thought was a really nice person as well as actor. It was important to you that the person you were going to have to pretend to be romantically interested in was a person you at least liked, and it was all too easy to imagine working with someone like Remus.

You'd expressed your thoughts to Minerva when she'd asked for them, and she nodded in agreement—a good sign—before the two casting directors beside her were calling for her attention.

"This next one, Minerva," cooed the curly-haired woman you knew as Poppy from next to her, "we think you're going to like."

"Am I?" she asked, lips curling up.

"Oh yes. When we saw him we knew right away we had to bring him in for the chemistry reading." Poppy nodded to you. "He looks promising. And he certainly has the background; his parents are Euphemia and Fleamonet Potter."

The other casting director hummed in agreement, not hiding their impressed and widened eyes. "Not to mention, he has that accent."

You had to fight your expression from turning sour. A Potter? If there was one thing you didn't appreciate in the world of acting, it was nepotism. After working so hard and starting from the ground up to get your acting career where it currently was, the last thing you wanted was to have to see your director swoon over some guy just because of who his parents were.

Nonetheless, you had faith in Minerva to pick the person who truly deserved the job. You watched her nod at the two women beside her, intrigued nonetheless. She waved a hand over to the security guard by the door in the corner of the room.

"Bring Potter in?"

The burly man nodded and exited the room briefly, and not a minute had gone by before he returned with the man you assumed was the young Potter in tow.

You subconsciously stood up straighter when you saw him, trying to push away any premeditated opinions of the man approaching. Brown curls and a genetically gifted bone structure you could see from feet away, he walked into the room confidently with reason. He immediately offered the security guard who had brought him into the room a handshake, and you watched as the tall brick wall of a man lit up with a bright smile from the gesture. Potter then rolled out more charming words of greeting to the director and casting directors, and you took the opportunity to scan him over in more detail.

With an interest you couldn't explain, you saw that he was strikingly handsome in the kind of way you'd expect the son of two celebrities to be; he was wearing a black t-shirt that clung to him flatteringly, with that sort of movie-star quality you knew audiences always swooned over. It didn't help that the moment he walked in you saw each of the directors turn to each other with raised brows and suggestive smiles that only widened when he introduced himself, charmingly posh British accent and all. You had to fight back from rolling your eyes at their reactions.

"James," greeted Poppy, standing up from her seat to give the man a handshake.

"Poppy," the man regarded, and you felt your eyebrows raise at the fact that he was already on a first-name basis with the head casting director.

She sat back down after a moment, keeping her attention on the man—James—as she spoke. "James, this is Minerva McGonagall, the Director of South Bay."

"I'm such an admirer of your work, Mrs. McGonagall. My parents took me to see your adaptation of Henry Shay's novel about three times when it first came out."

Your parents, you thought internally with some distaste; the famous actor and actress power couple. You had to stop yourself from shaking your head.

"Please, just Minerva," the director responded warmly, and you noted that she hadn't told any of the other actors to call her by her first name. "And thank you."

Poppy nodded happily before she held out an alarming hand towards you. "And let me introduce you to the wonderful actress who is going to be playing South Bay's leading lady Cassidy Ward."

You plastered on a smile and introduced yourself as plainly and confidently as you could, definitely not feeling suddenly conscious of your appearance as his warm-colored eyes raked over you.

James took that second to scan you over before realizing with a simmering feeling in the planes of his chest that there was something special about you he couldn't make out, something that had him wanting to greet you with more than a handshake. He refrained, thankfully, not saying anything after you finished introducing yourself for a second you felt was a beat too long, before scrambling to hold out a hand to you.

"I'm James. James Potter," he said as if you hadn't been already made aware of his last name. "It's an honor to get to meet you."

You didn't know why but his clear flattery only made you more uneasy of him, knowing it was something he'd probably gotten used to pulling out to impress whatever important or famous people he was busy meeting through all the connections he probably had.

You stopped yourself in your tracks; you were being unfair. You'd only known the guy, if you call it knowing him, for under a minute. Shaking off the odd feeling that was creeping its way into your stomach, you shook his held out hand with a polite nod, though that didn't the prying feeling inside you go away.

"Alright." Minerva clapped her hands together, looking between the two of you. "We're just going to do a read-through of scene number thirty-four, Episode three." She motioned towards the camera crew set up behind her, them shooting her a thumbs up.

She turned back around, looking between you and James pointedly. "Remember, your characters Cassidy and Aaron are the only two characters in the show who have known each other for longer than just a few months. They're close. That connection has to be visible, however you want to show that to us."

You didn't know why, but you felt uneasy. You nodded at Minerva regardless, seeing the supportive but anticipatory look behind her eyes as she glanced between you and the man now standing in front of you like you held the answers to all her problems.

James looked surprisingly calm and collected, like there was nothing in the world that could make the James Potter nervous. The more you looked at him and the confident set of his shoulders, the more you thought that was true.

Your director smiled. "Whenever you're both ready."

You nodded, taking a breath in before turning to James. "Where were you last night?"

You watched as James reacted to you in character, his strong brows pulling inwards. "What do you mean?"

You momentarily were taken aback by the almost effortless switch in his accent, but pushed the thought aside. "Last night. When everyone else was at Ryan's party. Where were you?"

He shrugged slightly. "I was in my dorm."

"Really? Because I knocked on your door and no one answered."

"I must've been sleeping. Why do want to know so badly?"

"I don't know, maybe because half the football team got caught last night breaking into the Dean's office."

"You don't think I did that, do you?"

You stared at him and then down at the floor. James—or Aaron, really—shook his head at you, his tone dropping. "I can't believe this."

Then he turned away from you and, as the script had told you to, you grabbed his wrist softly.

"Aaron, wait," you called, and the connection of your fingers to his arm had them tingling with a certain kind of teeming energy, though you didn't let it show on your face. "Of course I don't think you did it. I just don't know what to think. We're supposed to be best friends, yet you won't even tell me where you were."

James let a second pass before he said his next line, and it was like you could see his character's inner turmoil flickering through his mind restlessly when he said, "You want to know where I was, Cassidy?" You nodded. "I was talking with your Professor."

"Professor Brown?" you frowned. "Why?"

"I was trying to get him to let you submit your final thesis late."

"What? You know he told me I couldn't because-"

"Because of me." He paused dramatically, stern jaw working. "The only reason you missed the deadline was because you were helping me when I got too drunk to even make it up the stairs to my dorm."

"That's ... that's really nice of you, Aaron, but you know how Brown is-"

"He's letting you turn it in late for full credit."

"What?" You widened your eyes. "How did you ..."

"I told him how it was my fault you missed the deadline. And I told him about how good of a student you are, how you've never turned in anything late once, not even when we were in high school. But most importantly," he took a step closer to you to hold your hand, something you noted wasn't in the script but made your fingers flood with feeling. "I told him what a good person you were. How kind you are. Even to idiots like me who get black-out drunk during finals week."

You blinked at him, letting a smile overtake your face for a moment. "You really didn't have to."

"I did."

He squeezed your hand and, even if it was only acting, the way he was looking at you so meaningfully made something in your chest tighten excitedly. You didn't have to act when you shifted your gaze to the ground nervously. Why the hell were you nervous? "I don't know how the hell you got him to say yes."

"Well, I also have to wash his car for free for the next six months, but that's just a small detail."

You let your jaw drop. "I can't believe you'd do that for me."

"Of course I would." James took another step closer, still holding tight onto your hand and not breaking the immobilizing eye contact he'd established with you the whole while. "I'd do anything for you, Cassidy."

He nodded slowly, truly looking invested. Then, in a beat as short as a breath but one that must've felt like minutes to you as you stood there unmovingly, he leaned forward. All you could do was blink as his handsome—ugh, handsome—face neared yours before tilting itself to the right, where he left a soft but lingering kiss on your downstage cheek.

Then he pulled away again, the distance between you maybe a few inches smaller than before, before finally whispering, "Anything."

That definitely was not in the script. Your eyes blinked in an alarm that surely was no longer in character, but James looked unbothered, something you were finding was his natural state of being.

You felt your mouth go slightly dry at the intensity behind his eyes as he looked at you, but the last thing you could do was look away now, so you stayed rooted in your place in front of James as you waited for your signal to break character. Waited and waited; you felt dizzy.

"Cut!"

Minerva immediately clapped, the casting directors doing the same, and you felt like you could finally breathe as you dropped James's hand that was still holding yours and turned away from him, not sparing the man a second glance for nervous reasons you couldn't place. Maybe it was because of the fact that the feeling of his stupid lips was still lingering on your cheek.

Your director's tone was neutral when she said, "Great job, you two," though you watched as she turned passionately toward the two casting directors and they began speaking in hushed tones.

You shook your leg subtly as you waited, an antsy habit that you couldn't identify the current cause of, and you felt James lean down next to you, something that sent a nauseating feeling of déjà vu through you.

"Don't worry," he whispered lowly, taking your mannerisms as a sign of distress. He noted that even when frowning you looked extremely pretty, though at his words you left his lips your frown only deepened. "You did great."

You turned to him in confusion and some offense, trying to keep your voice hushed as you asked, "Excuse me?"

He shrugged a shoulder, eyes flicking over your figure for a split second that you definitely noticed. "You just looked tense, is all."

You stared at him blankly, not knowing what he could possibly be implying. Was he saying your acting looked tense? That you didn't look sure of yourself? Like you weren't already the lead and that he was the one auditioning?

You fought the urge to say that maybe you looked tense because he'd just kissed you on the cheek out of nowhere, and stayed defiantly silent. When you didn't say anything back he let his lips turn up into a lopsided smile that you were sure must work on all the ladies, almost a smirk, and he nudged you in the shoulder a bit like you were old friends. Who was this guy?

Whatever you thought he meant by the statement, you didn't get to say anything back, because Minerva had pulled away from her conversation and was staring expectantly at the two of you. You did your best to soften your expression away from offended and back to neutral.

"Well," she said, turning to the man beside you. "Thank you, James, for coming in."

"Thank you," he responded, tipping his head politely. Then he took a step forward and shook each of the casting director's hands, and you watched with a foul taste in your mouth as their lips visibly fought against fond smiles.

When he turned back around, he held his hand out to you as well, and you regarded it for a moment before shaking it like you did at the start of his audition, though this time it was definitely against your will. His hand was warm and smooth, like he hadn't worked a day in his life, and you hated the fact that you even noted how it felt at all.

Like he knew you didn't enjoy his presence, he smiled at you with something knowing shining in his eyes that you hated before he took his leave, the door to the room shutting behind him.

"That was ..." began Poppy, shaking her head slowly, "Perfect. Just perfect."

You couldn't help the way your lips parted almost exhasperatedly. "Really?" You hoped you hadn't revealed your surprise in your tone.

"Yes," Minerva responded instead, also seeming to be in awe. "Wow." She gestured with her hands exuberantly. "It was like I could see the show coming to life right in front of me."

"Not to mention the chemistry between you two." Poppy tipped her head at you, smirking as she fanned herself. "I mean, wow."

You bit down on the inside of your cheek to keep from saying anything you'd regret. Your throat felt dry. If you heard one more 'wow' from any of their mouths in reference to James Potter again you thought you were going to lose it. You tried to keep the premonition out of your voice as you bravely asked, "So, do you think you're going to cast him?"

Minerva paused for a moment in thought before answering you. "I mean, he was the last actor we're considering for the role, and I think he was the best we've seen today." She looked between the two other casting directors who nodded agreeingly at her words. "But I'd like to know your thoughts."

You blinked at her. "My thoughts?"

"Well, yes," she answered plainly. "He's going to be playing your love interest. And I like to hear my actor's opinions."

You pursed your lips at her words, feeling flattered but also not knowing how you were feeling at the prospect of having to work with James all the time. Although, deep within you, something was nagging at you—something you absolutely did not like—and telling you your answer.

The truth was, the scene you acted out with James felt realer, had come to life more than it had with any of the other actors that day. Maybe it was because he'd taken such liberties with the role, sure, but regardless, he did a great job. The thought made you hate yourself when you finally took a breath in to speak.

"He ..." you began unsurely, and then sighed. "He was great. Really great."

"Perfect!" Minerva clapped her hands together again, and something in your stomach churned. "We'll make contact with him as soon as possible." Her eyes twinkled as she regarded you. "I can't wait to have you two leading South Bay. I have nothing but hope."

"And," Poppy added, "it'll be great for publicity having a Potter in our cast."

The two other directors at the table nodded and murmured in agreement, and you fought from sighing. You thought of the days you'd spend on set with James Potter, of all people, not only having to get along with him but connect with him, with someone who clearly thought they were above you, enough to reassure you when you had already gotten the lead role. And then you thought of what it would be like to release South Bay to the public, your first leading role, only for Potter's undeniably charming face to be the audience's main focus. It left a sour feeling in your mouth.

But it wasn't just that horrible premonition that annoyed you; you didn't know exactly what bugged you about him in particular but you knew it hadn't gone away with his formal handshake or well-practiced manners. In fact, that'd probably only worsened the feeling.

But there was nothing you could really do about it now. At least, not if you planned on keeping your job. You were a professional, you knew that. But that didn't mean it was going to be easy to maintain that title. You really did sigh then, and something rooted in your gut told you it was going to be a long year of shooting.

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everythingisromant1c · 1 month ago

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p2: three reasons why you can't stand co-star!james potter

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: you were finding the first days of shooting your new TV show to be absolutely amazing, aside from the fact that you absolutely could not stand your co-star James Potter. unfortunately for you, you spent enough time around him to narrow down his most irritating qualities to only three:

a/n: hey so this took waayyy longer than i would've hoped to release, but i promise this series is not going anywhere, so tysm for all the loveee and all ur guys' patience <33

also pls pls pls feel free to send in prompt requests for this series i am so all ears

full series: Trouble in Hollywood - masterlist

1. He was insufferably good at his job

You wished you could say working with James Potter was such a challenge because he was simply bad at his job. But the thing was: he wasn't. It turned out he was really the impeccably good actor that your director Minerva seemed to swear he was, as if the talent truly was seeping through his veins. Somehow, that only made working with him more frustrating to you.

"Aaron, you've got to believe me."

James had come to you during the middle of hair and makeup and asked you to rehearse lines with him even before official rehearsals for the day's shooting began, saying it would make him feel more prepared. And, as much as you hated it, you felt the same. Your only regret was thinking you'd be able to stand him and his arrogance before seven in the morning.

"Why should I, Cassidy?"

The brunette responded to you fully in character, leaning back against a nearby vanity with his long legs crossed in front of him as you sat in your cushioned chair. He apparently got out of hair and makeup in under a matter of minutes, looking effortlessly put together with his curls hanging perfectly over his forehead—you didn't have the same luck. Your lovely makeup artist Mary seemed to be unbothered by the interruptions, continuing on with your makeup as you rehearsed your lines, though you caught her amused smile every once in a while from her reflection in the mirror.

"Because..." you began, trying to stay in character as your brain scrambled for your next line.

"You're supposed to say," cut in James, "'-because we can only trust each other right now.'"

"Please stop telling me my lines, James." You repeated the irritated request you'd uttered all morning to him as you put a tired hand to the bridge of your nose, one that Mary moved away hurriedly.

"Watch your makeup," she pleaded with a powder-filled brush to your nose , and you winced apologetically.

"Did you just want me to stand here and wait for you to remember them?" James's voice poked at you irritatingly as you stared up at him from your seat.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want." You fought from rolling your eyes. "You could at least give me a second. I didn't even ask for my line."

He raised his brows with an acquiescent sigh. "Whatever the lady wants."

Ignoring him, a skill you were growing like a muscle, you cleared your throat in focus, trying not to move too much as Mary blended some product on your neck. "Because we can only trust each other right now."

James quickly jumped back into character, right on time. "That didn't mean anything to you the other night."

"I already told you I'm sorry for that. When I heard all the rumors, I ..." you cursed at yourself as your mind drew another painful, embarrassing blank.

"-I didn't know what to think." James looked anything but guilty as his voice met your ears once again, finishing your line for you without fail.

"James!" You glared at him, doing your best to stay out in your chair and not storm out of the trailer he'd so brazenly infiltrated. You shook your head to yourself through your reflection in the brightly lit mirrors . "You're impossible."

James shrugged innocently. "I don't get why you're mad at me for trying to help."

"I'm not."

He scoffed, putting a dramatic hand to his chest. "So is this what you look like when you're happy with me?" The corner of his aggravating lips lifted along with his shoulder in a small shrug, before turning away again. "Isn't very much like how I've pictured it."

You didn't miss the way Mary let out a small breath of laughter from her nose as she switched over to doting on your hair. You gritted your teeth.

"I mean, I'm not mad at you for helping. I'm mad at you because you're annoying."

He crossed his arms defensively, his lips still quirked up, and you fought against the urge within you that had your eyes following the movement of his biceps. "I'm annoying?"

The feigned disbelief in his voice snapped your back to your right mind.

"Yes," you answered plainly. "You and your posh accent."

Maybe you'd stopped making sense, but it was too early for you to care. James was watching your meltdown with what you could only identify as merriment, his unfortunately unignorable presence taking up too much space in the cramped makeup trailer.

Thankfully choosing to ignore the part about his accent, he put up his hands innocently. "Last time I checked, I wasn't the one who keeps forgetting their lines."

"We just got the updated script for this episode last night." You shifted in your chair to face him, and you heard Mary wince from behind you, probably getting fed up with how much you were moving around, though you were too annoyed to stop yourself. "How the hell are you already off-book?"

James shrugged smugly, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned forward. You squinted your eyes at him. "An actor never reveals his secrets, love."

You twisted your mouth in disgust at his words—because you definitely felt something as he said them, whether it was disgust or not you didn't want to think about—and probably only made him more satisfied. "Mary," you groaned, looking at her through the mirror in front of you. "I think I'm going to be sick."

She shook her head and gave your reflection a sharp look back. "Not in that freshly ironed shirt you're not."

You sighed, settling back into your chair and sparing another glance at the man to your right. He tipped his head at you, almost tauntingly, and you felt your jaw tighten. It was going to be a long day.

2. Everyone else seemed to love him

You'd been going about your Thursday innocently, filming scenes when called upon—finally having memorized all your lines properly—and somehow getting through the morning without any irritating interactions with your least favorite person on set at the moment. That good feeling, of course, could only last so long.

"What's this?"

Minerva, your director, had been walking around set with you until you both stopped at the sight of a crowd forming outside one of the sets. You followed her, making your way through the crowd of your fellow actors and crew members until you were met with a nauseating sight: James Potter.

At the sight of your director, his already proud smile grew to a beaming one, almost blinding, as he greeted her. "We've all been really busy with this week's filming schedule, Minnie, and you mentioned what a hassle it's been ordering enough food for everyone every day with our budget, so I pulled some strings and got my family's chef to cater our lunch."

Your jaw slacked as he nodded his head to his left, where a number of tables were set up with what looked like pizza ingredients, a moustached-man in a chef hat standing behind the scene proudly. You couldn't believe your eyes. Apparently, neither could the woman next to you.

"Oh my- James this is ... amazing!" Minerva—or Minnie, as James somehow had grown accustomed to calling her—turned to your co-star, expression as bright and beaming as James's crowd-pleasing smile was. "But you shouldn't have gone to all this trouble-"

"It was no trouble at all. Francis was more than happy to help."

He waved a hand at the chef, who you assumed was the 'Francis' in question, who nodded back at him happily with a pizza cutter in his hand. It was like something out of a movie, the way everyone clapped for James who stood at the front of the crowd like the beloved man he was. You felt sick to your stomach.

"What's wrong? Do you not like the pizza?"

You'd taken your lunch shamefully, making sure to hide your amazement at the endless selection of pizza toppings that James had arranged at the build-your-own-pizza station, and were sitting with Remus, who you'd met at auditions for the show and luckily got casted in a role other than one that'd gone to James, and Sirius, another one of your co-stars who you'd quickly become friends with since you spent practically all your time on set nowadays.

You looked up at Remus briefly before returning your gaze to the pizza in front of you, the perfect slice underneath the sun seeming to taunt you. "No," you grumbled. "The pizza's amazing."

Sirius chuckled. "You'd think you'd be happy about that."

"I would, aside from the fact that it was Potter who brought it in."

The black-haired man tipped his head at you curiously. "What's your problem with James again?"

You shook your head forebodingly. "Don't tell me he's brainwashed you both with his hundred-dollar pizza too."

"I doubt the pizza's that much money." Remus bit into the slice in his hand, talking through the bite. "But it is pretty delicious."

"It is," Sirius nodded. "It was pretty nice of him to cover lunch for the day. If anything, you'd think you'd like him more for this."

You groaned. "He brought in his family's private chef, for God's sake. It's not like he rescued a cat from a tree or something."

Sirius and Remus shared a look as you spoke. You knew you sounded ridiculous, but you currently lacked enough dignity to care as yet another slice of pizza sat on your plate, ready to be eaten.

"James is actually a really nice lad," reasoned Sirius. "Take it from us. We kind of grew up with him."

That fact had yet to escape you as soon as you'd met the two of them. According to the stories they'd relayed to you, Remus's mum had been an on-set tutor to James growing up when he was acting in some movie, while Sirius's parents had been producers for some of James's parents' films. Safe to say, the three of them certainly left you feeling inexperienced in the world of acting.

"James should be the least of your worries," urged Remus. "He's harmless."

"If he's so harmless, then why has he gone out of his way to be a pain in my ass since I met him?"

Sirius snorted. "We said he's harmless, not that he's not an idiot sometimes."

"But," Remus added, "whatever James has done, just know that it always comes from a good place. The man doesn't have a mean bone in his body."

You sighed inwardly. The James Potter you knew seemed to be very different from the one that everyone else seemed to be familiar with, and it was driving you crazy.

3. He was an obnoxious flirt

When you said 'flirt', you not only meant that he flirted with you—unfortunately—but that he seemed to flirt with anyone in sight, whether he realized it or not. In fact, you'd been forced to watch as he smooth-talked one of the hairstylists on set for the past ten minutes.

You couldn't hear everything they were saying, thank god, but you were sure she was probably more charmed by the fact that his last name was Potter than anything he could remotely come up with to win her over. You'd had enough conversations with him to know that the movie-star smiles he offered were enough to charm people before they realized just how insufferable he was.

After what felt like hours, he said something to the woman in parting and left her looking flushed and smiley as he strolled away. You sighed, happy to finally be rid of distractions, and looked back down at the script on your lap that you were trying to memorize but stopped almost immediately as you felt an unwelcome presence lingering from in front of you. You looked up and fought a groan.

James tipped his head at you innocently. "You wanted me?"

You tensed at his phrasing and did your best to go back to ignoring him as you focused back on your script. "I did not."

Not taking the hint, as usual, he stayed put, shoving his hands in his well-tailored pockets. "Well, you've been staring at me for the past ten minutes, so I just assumed you had something to say."

"Well, you assumed wrong." You gave him a tight-lipped smile from where you sat. "And I wasn't staring. I just miraculously found it hard to concentrate on memorizing lines when you were harassing that hairstylist right next to me."

He squinted at you quizzically before shaking his head, finding your banter more amusing than you probably were. "Admit it. You're obsessed with me."

You scoffed, blinking rapidly to truly portray your disbelief. "You wish. Reality is, Potter—I think I hate you."

James peered at you with a glint in his eye like he'd never heard anything more amusing, leaning back against the wall next to you. "You think?"

You shrugged tightly. "The jury hasn't come to a decision just yet." You thought back to the unfortunately delicious pizza he'd provided, and all the things that Remus and Sirius had said to you that stood in stark contrast to practically every other experience you'd had with him.

James grinned, finding teasing you the most entertaining part of his day, even on set for a TV show. "So I still have a chance?"

His eyes glistened and you reeled. "A chance to what? Did you not hear the 'hate' part?"

"Hate is a strong word, don't you think?"

You shook your head. "Strong, but appropriate."

"Ouch." He touched his hand to his chest in that dramatic way he always did, something you blamed on his actor roots. "Your words hurt, you know." You rolled your eyes, truly trying then to get back to memorizing your lines so James would have nothing over you during filming the next day, but he didn't seem to care. "Look, I get it. You said you hate me. But really, I don't think you do."

You sighed, setting your script aside as you looked up at him with finality. "And why is that, Potter?"

"Because," James began, and you didn't like the tease in his tone as he looked down at you. "A little birdie told me you had some say in whether or not they cast me in South Bay. And that you actually encouraged it."

Your lips parted, those words being the last ones you expected him to say after weeks had gone by since the chemistry read. You didn't know who'd ratted you out, but whoever did would be getting a stern talking to. Or a partially stern one, since they were more than likely your boss.

You shrugged weakly at him. "That ... that doesn't mean anything."

James's thick brow lifted effortlessly. "So you're not denying it?"

At his challenging look, you relented with a drop of your shoulders. "I'm not. It's true; I told Minerva I think they should choose you to play Aaron becuase you are good at your job, James. As much as it annoys me. I mean, you're clearly a great actor, you get all your lines memorized overnight, not to mention the entire crew is in love with you for some reason-"

"Oh, I see."

You paused, looking at the way James's slight grin turned into a shit-eating one. "What?"

He tipped his head at you tauntingly. "You're jealous."

You let out a laugh harsher than you meant it to be. "Please. There's nothing about you I could possibly waste my energy being jealous over."

The brunette tutted, and you hated the feeling it sent through you. "For such a great actress, you're not a very good liar."

You felt your breathing shallow for a moment, not knowing what to do with the compliment that flowed so easily from his lips like he hadn't given it a second thought. You pushed the thought aside, focusing on the insult part of his statement instead, and rolled your eyes.

"Look," James continued at your expression. "Jealous or not, we're going to have to work together on this show for God knows how many more months. Years even, if it gets renewed for a second season." The thought both filled you with excitement and dread as it came from James's lips. He looked down at you with an honest curiosity. "How much longer can you go on pretending to hate me?"

You noted that what he was saying was true, letting the words sit in your chest for a moment, but you also noted that you had more fun being petty. You tilted your chin up at him. "Funny that you think I'm pretending."

James put a hand on the table you were sitting at, leaning forward slightly and making you freeze up. "Funny that you're still not a good liar, love."

Your throat felt tight with something you wanted to again dismiss as disgust at both his proximity and the delicate word that fell from his lips. You let an unpleasant pinch form between your brows. "I thought I told you not to call me that."

James felt something warm, almost giddy, form in his chest, and it didn't matter that you looked like you were considering slapping him right then. He let the corner of his lips quirk up. "You're adorable when you're mad."

"Don't call me that either." You huffed, picking up your still un-memorized script and standing. "I'm going to my trailer."

James quirked a brow, following you with only his eyes. "Is that an invitation?"

You rolled your eyes, walking away and calling over your shoulder. "Absolutely not."

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everythingisromant1c · 4 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You - Chapter 12

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Things hadn't gotten much better with James, and you knew you could only go so long without talking to him—after all, he was still your best friend. But, considering all that'd happened, along with some encouragement from your friends, you knew the time had come to finally admit you wanted more than that.

wc [6.2k]

a/n: alr guys ... very happy and also sad to say this is the last chapter of it's always been you!! :( i've loved every minute of writing this series as well as sharing it (its become my baby atp), and it is definitely because of all the love and support everyone reading has given it. thank u to everyone stuck around to this point, & i hope u guys enjoy this last chapter!! i send all my hugs and kisses <3 - e

all chapters | <- Chapter 11

It'd been another hour or two until everyone had fully returned from Hogsmeade and dinner was being served in the Great Hall. You finally changed out of your dress and into your everyday clothing again, already feeling better, but that didn't mean you felt good. You didn't think you could feel good when both your brain and heart were hurting like they were. And worst of all, the one person you'd go to in times like these for comfort was the same person you couldn't go to. Not now.

The girls had been doing their best to get your mind off of everything that had happened that day, aside from when Marlene profusely apologized to you for letting Potter hear her outburst in the common room.

"Although, I have to say," she admitted afterward. "I'm not completely sorry for him that he had to hear it. I may be brutal but I never tell a lie."

That fact didn't leave you as you sat with her and Lily in the Great Hall for dinner, a number of seats away from the other Marauders. You recognized with a skip in your heartbeat that James was with them, surprisingly enough since you knew how he was accustomed to skipping meals in the dining hall when he wanted to be alone, a habit you both unfortunately shared. But that didn't mean he was enjoying himself either.

You could see even from your seat down the table that he wasn't saying much, mostly keeping to himself quietly, something so out of character for him yet you'd seen him do it constantly the entire week. You wanted to yell at him and shake him silly, but you also wanted to hug him. When you caught yourself in the midst of those thoughts you turned back to your own spot at the table shamefully.

You tried to force yourself to eat, catching your friends' concerned looks at your full plate, but you didn't feel much like it. Especially not when you still felt maybe a dozen pairs of eyes on you from every corner of the Great Hall.

Even with all that'd happened since just that morning, the rumors and whatever else people had come up with to talk about had not yet been forgotten about by the school like your friends said it would be. Then you thought about whether news had spread of your disastrous date in Hogsmeade, and prayed that nobody had caught wind of that incident either. You didn't think you could handle any more of the staring.

Immediately after you had that thought, you spotted a fifth-year in Ravenclaw robes walking past your table, watching as he blatantly pointed at you as he spoke to his friend, and you looked down at your plate with hardened eyes.

You heard Marlene scoff from next to you. "Hey!" she called to the boy. "Didn't your mother ever tell you it was rude to point?"

The fifth-year didn't respond to her but looked to his friend, hurriedly taking a seat at his own table, his whispers being drowned out in the loudness of the dining hall.

Marlene fumed from next to you. "I can't believe these people. Are they really that bored with their own lives that they're so obsessed with a bloody rumor?"

You shook your head toying with your fork. "Just ignore them. That's what I've settled on doing."

She sighed from beside you and you thought that'd be the end of everything, until you heard gasps from down the table. You looked up and followed the sounds and were met with a sight not even the magic of Hogwarts could've prepared you for.

James—your James—had stood up on the bench he'd once been sitting in, and you thanked Merlin he wasn't standing fully on the table; though you had absolutely no idea what he could possibly be up to, you knew it couldn't be anything good. He cupped a hand to his mouth as your heartrate picked up.

"Can I have everyone's attention?"

He didn't have to ask twice for it. His voice boomed out loudly, something that seemed to come naturally to him, and the noise in the Great Hall had died out in a mere second until it was almost completely silent—quiet enough for you to hear the beating of your heart in your chest as you looked up at him. Your throat went dry.

"Not that it's any of anyone's business," he started confidently to the hundreds of eyes now looking at him, tone nothing but sober. "But nothing happened in the broom closet. Or in the locker room."

You felt the churning in your stomach claw up into your throat, then felt it drop back down, keeping you stationed in your seat. He didn't give much context to his declaration, but with the popularity of the topic amongst the school, it didn't seem like he needed to. His voice almost seemed to echo, all other noises drowning out as everyone stared up at him. James looked around the entire room appearing completely unafraid and you didn't know how the hell he did it; you probably looked more fearful than him.

"So," he began again, "I don't want to see or hear anyone talking about those rumors any longer. And if anyone has a problem with that, they can answer to me. Alright?"

Of course, nobody said anything then, but you could see in their eyes that they were going to listen to him. Or at least, they'd make sure they didn't get caught going against him. Maybe it was from his impenetrably confident voice or his respected status around the school, you weren't sure, but he had that unique effect on people in an almost effortless way.

When it was clear he'd gotten his point across, he scanned his eyes over the sea of students until they found yours. In a dizzying way, it felt like you were the only two in the room for a moment, as cliché as the thought sounded in your head.

You didn't know what had motivated him to do what he did, but you could see in his eyes something fragile that juxtaposed the self-assured look they'd had only seconds ago. He looked away again and stepped back down to floor level once more, not taking a moment before striding out of the Great Hall, his form disappearing seconds after.

Even without his physical presence, his action seemed to linger over the room for a moment more before chatter broke out once again. You were still frozen in place, not knowing if moving would finalize the idea that whatever just happened was real and not just part of some wild dream.

Marlene had confirmed that it definitely had happened, however, when she turned to you with her jaw dropped, an amazed but delighted sparkle in her eye. "Someone tell me you saw that too."

"Oh we saw it," rang Lily, who also looked much too happy about that fact, probably just relieved James's antics weren't centered on her for once. You could see them both staring at you expectantly, waiting for you to react. You could also see the boys in your peripheral, the three of them remaining at the table searching your face for a reaction.

Yet, all you could do was stand up and walk hurriedly towards the exit. Dozens of conversations rushed past your ears as you did, a blur of remarks ranging from "Potter's lost it" to "He's so bloody fit." Whatever they were saying, you noted with gratefulness in the back of your mind that none of the conversations were about you.

You reached the doorway and stopped once you were a safe distance away in the hallway, heaving breaths in for a moment to yourself before finding that you weren't alone. All of your friends had followed you without blinking an eye, and you didn't know whether you found it endearing or inconvenient. Though, to be fair, you didn't know where you were going. You just knew you couldn't sit there and pretend as if nothing had happened.

You blinked at the three boys who neared you with puzzled looks on each of their faces. "Did you guys know anything about this?"

"No," promised Sirius. "In fact, James has hardly said anything to us since this morning."

You shook your head to yourself, feeling breathless. "I can't ... believe he would do that."

"Really?" Lily stared at you. "I mean, it's Potter we're talking about. It's exactly something he would do."

You couldn't fight the smile that tugged on the corners of your lips even as you shook your head. You ran a hand over your hair as the blonde from next to you hit you in the shoulder.

"Well? What are you waiting for?" You frowned over at her as she stared at you expectantly. "Go to him."

You stilled, gaping at her. "What?"

"Go to him. Do I have to spell it out for you?"

You tipped your head at her like it would help you understand her better, parting your drying lips. "I thought you said he was a selfish git." You heard Remus snort from beside you.

"I did, sure," reasoned Marlene, not without a hint of pride. "But only because I thought he was ruining your chances of moving on now that you were over him. But seriously, I can see your face when you look at him." She shook her head. "That's not the look of someone who wants to move on."

Your eyes flickered over her face as she spoke, an infinite number of thoughts overtaking you. In the silence of your thinking, a Hufflepuff boy walked past the six of you in the hallway, staring all the while.

"What are you looking at?" snapped Marlene, turning to him without missing a beat. "Did you not just hear Potter?"

Like he'd heard him loud and clear, and also like he was scared of Marlene, he hurried away with his head bent forward. Satisfied, the blonde turned back to you. At your conflicted expression, she asked, "Well?"

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. "It's just that," you began, not even knowing where you were going with your rambling. "I've spent so long trying to get over him. It's not fair to myself to just forget all of that, and it definitely wasn't fair to Sebastian-"

"For Merlin's sake," cut in Lily, to your surprise. "You keep talking about what's fair and what's unfair, but what about you? What do you want?"

You stared at her, beginning to feel breathless under the eyes of all your friends. "It's not just about what I want. It's not that simple."

"But what if it is?" she questioned. "I know how difficult this has all been for you. And I know you said Potter doesn't just get to realize his feelings for you and suddenly be with you, that it doesn't work like that. But what if it does?" She raised her hands at her sides. "Not everything is a perfect story to tell. Especially not when it comes to you two. It's not every day you fall in love with your best friend and he finally sees that he's fallen for you too. Are you seriously going to let him go because of some made-up system of rules?"

Your breath was becoming staggering now, and you didn't know what to think, because everything they were telling you sounded so right.

"I don't know," you began unsurely. "Of course, I don't want to lose him. Not talking to him for the past week has been harder than I ever could've imagined. I don't even know what it would feel like to have to do it for longer than I already have been." You blinked down at your shoes, truly realizing those things at the same rate you said them. "I think I just ... miss him."

"Of course you miss him." Marlene looked at you sympathetically. "That's why I think you should go tell all this to him."

You felt bile rising in your throat. "I don't even know if he'd want to see me after all we've said to each other."

"Are you joking?" Remus butted in exasperatedly. "Prongs is bloody in love with you. Can't you see that?"

"Remus," you warned softly because you didn't know how much more of this hope you could take before you did something you'd regret.

"I'm telling the truth." His voice was heavy with meaning. "Maybe it took him a while to realize it himself, but the rest of us have had to sit back and watch you both act like you don't have feelings for each other for years. Believe me, the only reason he's in his room right now and not with you is because he thinks that's what you want."

Your brows pinched. "You can't truly know that."

"Really?" he laughed. "What do you think we talked about that night Vance asked you out?"

Your expression faltered and you forced yourself to think back to the night James had begun acting distant from you, though it wasn't difficult to, the storyline of it all clicking into place in your head.

"You," breathed Remus. "We talked about you."

"Not to mention," Sirius added, "we're the ones who've had to spend every night in our dorm listening to him bitch and moan about Vance this and Vance that." You swallowed at your friends' words, but they didn't quit.

"And we know James was being a right idiot today," Sirius insisted honestly. "But you should've seen him this morning right after you two argued. He was heartbroken. More than he'd ever been over Evans." He turned to the redhead in question. "No offense, Evans."

Lily rolled her eyes lightheartedly. "Trust me, Black, none taken."

He nodded and turned back to you swiftly. "So for you to think that James would want anything other than to fix things with you and just be with you is bloody mental."

You stared at all of your friends who were looking so determinedly back at you that you didn't think you could tell them 'no' now. But still, your feet didn't budge.

"It's not just that," you almost whispered. "I guess I'm just ... scared. What if it goes wrong and we get into some ridiculous fight again? What then?"

Marlene took a hold of your shoulders, slightly scaring you in her resoluteness. "Potter just stood up and yelled at the entire bloody school and you're trying to tell us you'rescared?" She shook you a little, and your friends smirked from behind her. "Be a Gryffindor for Godric's sake! Go to him!"

Before you could say anything more, she was turning you around and shoving you a little until you had the momentum you needed to take steps toward the Gryffindor common room. You made it all the way up the nearest set of steps before you paused, turning back to your friends with a grateful smile.

"Thank you, you guys." You expected them to share the sweet moment with you, but they only rolled their eyes.

"Go, woman!" Sirius groaned, and you rolled your eyes back at them, but it lacked any real annoyance.

You didn't know exactly what you were planning on doing, but you didn't have time to think about it because your legs were carrying you speedily through the halls in your anxious state and wouldn't let you stop until you reached the portrait entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Taking a steadying breath in, you said the password and entered the room.

With everyone else still being at dinner in the Great Hall, it wasn't exactly difficult to find James. He sat in the common room, his brunette head of curls visible to you in the low light. They covered the majority of his face that you could see, his head tipped downwards with his elbows resting on his knees. That changed within the blink of an eye as you entered the room, his head swiftly lifting until he locked eyes with you, and you had to fight a shiver at the feeling it sent shuddering through you.

He seemed to think you were just going to go to your own dorm and ignore him, and he averted his eyes to look somewhere else, maybe the fireplace, until you left—but you didn't. You only walked closer to him until you were separated by only one of the couches, the distance still small enough to make your breathing quicken.

At the soundlessness of your stilled footsteps, James looked back up and met your eyes again, and he swallowed. Clearly, he hadn't expected you to make any move to talk to him that night, even after the scene he'd made in the Great Hall. The problem was that you hadn't expected yourself to either, and now you didn't know what you wanted to say first, because there were certainly a million things you had to make sure he knew.

"Thank you," you said, because you figured it was a good place to start. He nodded up at you, his eyes not revealing much of anything, but you didn't let that sway you. "You didn't have to do that, you know."

"Of course I did." His voice was stubborn, but too sincere for how little his expression gave away.

You looked down at your feet, letting a moment pass before speaking again. "Well, now it seems like everyone is going to be talking about you from now on."

"That doesn't matter to me." James's voice cut through the air richly, and when you looked back up from the floor he was staring at you meaningfully. "They can say whatever the hell they want. As long as they're not talking about you."

Your shoulders dropped at his words, and the way he held your eyes as he said them made your heart beat faster in your chest. It hadn't even been a full day since you'd last spoken to him, but you already missed him.

"They wouldn't leave you alone," he said concretely, his tone beginning to fill with emotion. "And then, I heard what Marlene said in the common room, about some girl harassing you in the library? I-" he shook his head frustratedly, rubbing at his forehead with one of his hands. "I'm just mad at myself that I've let it go on for this long. Or that I didn't even know that happened."

You already felt too emotional for your liking, the feelings inside of you swirling more aggressively at every word he said to you. "It's not like it's your fault, James."

"Well it's not like I did much to stop it, did I?" He seemed genuinely angry at himself now, and you didn't know what you could do to help. A painful lump was rising in your throat, but you stayed rooted in your spot behind the sofa. "And I'd ask you why you didn't come and tell me, but that'd be a bloody stupid question."

He shook his head, eyes becoming wistful like he was recalling a memory, one that pained him. "Earlier, when Marlene was defending you in the common room, the look on your face was ... I don't know. Crushed. Sad."

You swallowed at the memory, because that had been exactly how you were feeling, amongst thousands of other ways. James looked down at his lap.

"I just wanted to try and help, do anything to make that look on your face go away, but I couldn't. So I just kept replaying how you looked in my head, and the more I thought about it, the more I hated myself because I realized you were only hurting because of me. And that was the worst part. Realizing that it was all my fault."

You felt yourself wanting to take a step towards him, wanting to just reach out to him as the tips of your fingers teemed with the longing you felt in your chest. "James," you began, your voice hushed. "It's not all your fault."

You meant it. To try and say to yourself that you had no part in all the confusion between the two of you would be a blatant lie, one that you couldn't let James go on believing, especially not with the pained look on his face.

He only shook his head at you. "It is," he insisted. "And here you go, being perfect towards me when I don't deserve it." A muscle worked overtime in his jaw. "Marlene was right. I was being selfish, and petty, and a lot of other things, but most importantly, I wasn't being a good friend." He paused, a grieving confliction tugging at his brow. "That's ... that's not what friends do."

You went still then too, the word 'friend' hanging in the air between you with a weight that only made you tired. The truth was that cobwebs had grown in the house where you'd fostered that unforgiving title, and it felt like some intangible force had locked you both inside with it blindly.

"Yeah, well," you began, your voice small, "we've been doing plenty of things that friends don't do, lately.Like you said, we kissed, right?" You let out a breathy sound like a laugh that lacked any joy, and the way James's eyes flickered up at you knocked the rest of the air right out of you.

"About that," he began hesitantly, and you could tell he was thinking about both the night it'd happened and that morning when you'd fought, just like you were. "I know you don't want that to mean anything, so it- ... it doesn't have to. Even if I want it to. Because it doesn't matter what I want—what matters to me is you."

You were thankful you had the couch next to you to brace a hand on, because you'd never felt so swept up by a conversation and you weren't sure how much longer you could stand the way your heart was nagging at you.

"You were right," swore James, but the slight shake of his eyes back and forth on your face didn't look as adamant as he sounded. "It's not fair for me to expect something from you when you already got over me."

The words you'd shouted at him in Hogsmeade that morning sounded foreign and wrong coming from his lips, and you knew the months of dishonesty that laced them like you knew the back of your hand.

"And it's too late now, I get that." His voice went from deep and determined to on the cusp of breaking, and it killed you. "I just want to know that you're happy, and if being happy means being with Vance instead of me, then ... I can deal with that."

You watched as he swallowed, like he was forcing the words to come from his lips even if it pained him. The way he hadn't broken eye contact with you the whole while was starting to make your head spin.

Your blinking sped up, maybe holding back the emotion you knew you was fighting to come out, and you whispered, "James."

Maybe you hadn't been loud enough, or maybe he just knew you'd try to disagree with him again, but he only continued determinedly at you.

"I know I probably went and ruined your chances with Vance, like an idiot, but I'm going to do whatever it takes to get you another date with him." He nodded at you once firmly, and within a second he was standing up, taking an intentional step forward. "Hell, I'll even go talk to him right now and-"

"James," you called again, louder this time. "Stop."

You put a hand out and it landed on his arm softly but firmly, and all you could was pray you could find the right words to say to him as he stared at you, level with you now in an unsteadying way.

"You didn't ruin my chances with Sebastian. It wouldn't have worked out regardless, even if I'd wanted it to. Because being with him isn't what I want." You shook your head, recalling back what James had said to you only moments before. "He wouldn't have made me happy." You sounded desperate now. "He's not you."

James stilled, his glistening eyes the only thing showing movement as they danced across your face intensely, though you saw them widen with something bright like hope. "What?"

The confusion of the word that he'd practically whispered out unspeakably attested to how you felt yourself, the terrain of the land you were exploring right there and then with James uncharted and rocky. You pushed on, knowing there was no going back now.

"Marlene wasn't completely right, James. She only said all of those things because I'd spent all this time trying to convince her—and myself—that I didn't still have feelings for you. But I do, clearly." You tipped your head down for a moment in exasperation and exhaustion, willing yourself to keep going. "Everyone can see it. All of our friends. Hell, even Sebastian could see it." You laughed, though your eyes were growing blurry. "So for me to try to push those feelings down any longer would just be lying to you and to myself." You let out an exasperated breath. "And I'm so sick of lying."

Your shoulders sunk as you stood there, a steadily shrinking distance between you and James that was both comforting and daunting to you. You couldn't do anything but watch as James's face stilled and then shifted as he thought, studying your own face in a way that made you conscious of every shift in your expression.

"I just," he began, and then raked a hand through his hair. "Why did you feel like you needed to hide how you felt in the first place?"

You felt your mouth go dry at the question—one you knew came only out of a desperate curiosity and nothing else—and your mind began spinning. The last few years of your friendship seemed to swirl in your head, flickering in and out of focus as you tried to come up with an answer.

"I-" you began, willing yourself to say something, anything at all. "I was scared." The words rang true so much that they made your heart pinch. "Scared that you wouldn't feel the same and I'd go and ruin everything. That I'd lose you."

James's hands lifted up from his sides like he wanted to reach out to you, and he did. He took your hand in his, grasping lightly at your fingertips in a touch that steadied you and made you feel lightheaded at the same time. He shook his head at you with a firm hold in his brow.

"You could never lose me."

His lips were parted, and his hazel eyes glistened over in the low common room lighting like the thought of your suggestion was painful enough on its own. Looking at him then, his face lined with years of a comforting, steadying familiarity, you knew deep in your chest that what he said was true. But that didn't alter all that you'd felt for the past number of years.

"It's not just that," you said, looking down at his hand that held yours and blinking away the guilt that crept into your stomach, because it wasn't James's fault that you had felt this way. "Even in Hogsmeade, James." Your voice was becoming unsteady again and it only frustrated you more. "What if everything you said you felt for me was just some spur-of-the-moment thing from some kiss? What if you didn't feel the same way a week from now? Or a month? I knew I wouldn't be able to get over that fear. Especially when I'd been hiding how I felt from you for years. And then there were your feelings for Lily to think about and ... I don't know."

You trailed off, finally able to stop yourself. You felt petty, so petty, because you were so close to getting what you knew your heart wanted, but you felt the insistent need to ruin things for yourself and think of every way things could go wrong. You'd never felt closer to James then, but also never farther away. All you could do was stand there and wait for him to say something, anything.

James stayed unmoving for a beat staring at you, wordlessly taking everything in with a fragility in the air that hallowed your labored breathing. Then he started to shake his head like he was in disbelief. He ran a hand through his brown hair.

"For Merlin's sake."

His voice was low, a mutter, and he stared at the ground for a moment in thought before dropping the hand that once held yours, turning and walking away from you, leaving up the steps to his dorm room. You watched his back as he disappeared, your fingertips feeling cold and empty.

You felt your blinking speed up in a dizzying confusion. You didn't know what had come over you, not even sure exactly what you'd said in all of your desperate rambling that had made him decide to leave, but your vision started to blur even more than it already had until you recognized the wetness forming beside your eyes.

Nothing made sense. Not then, and not in the last twenty-four hours. You moved until you were sitting down on the couch in front of you, feeling lightheaded as the fireplace crackled a few feet away. The light from outside had left with the sun and the room had a comforting kind of warm lighting, though even that did little to soothe you as you sat there with all the unresolved feelings within you.

You were confused and lost and wanted nothing more than to just fix things, but you were even more at a loss for words when you heard quick footsteps coming from the staircase James had left from, and then saw his returning form making its way down the steps.

You turned your head to him swiftly in confusion, following him and his soft but energetic steps as he came to sit next to you, and that was when you noticed he was holding something—a box. One that was tattered on the corners, its black fabric aged and dusting over.

You wiped at your eyes quickly, brows tugging in all your bewilderment as you waited for James to explain.

"I-" he began, and stopped as soon as his eyes focused more on your face. You must've looked as broken as you felt, and at seeing the look on your face, he held one of your hands in his before swiping across your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb.

You felt like wilting under his soft touch that you'd missed more than anything in the confusing weeks, mentally and physically exhausted from everything but still wanting more than anything to understand.

When you looked perhaps more stable, he looked back at the box that he'd set down beside him and placed it on his lap delicately as he spoke, his words echoing out slowly.

"I know you think I've just realized my feelings for you a week ago, and that they came from some kiss at a party. But, you have to believe me when I say that they're so much more than that." He placed the box in your hands, and you took it from him with a note of fragility, resting it atop your legs. His eyes bore into yours, like it would break him if you couldn't understand the words leaving his lips. He took a shaky breath in. "I need you to know, more than anything, that you're everything to me. You always have been."

Your lips began to shake at the earth-shattering words coming from your best friend's lips. "James, what-"

He stopped you with a gesture of his head that told you to look inside the box, and you did. Carefully, you lifted the flimsy cardboard top and placed it to the side, brows pulling together tight and something loud and hearty threatening to pull from your chest. You shook your head as tears began to well over your eyes again as you recognized what James had given you.

The box, the measly and old mess of cardboard and paper, was full of all the letters you'd written to him over the years—all the thank you notes, the letters you'd sent him from that summer and all the past ones—every single one of them. Your eyes raked over each of them when you felt too stunned to use your hands, but your heart still felt touched by the memories of each one all the same. It took everything in you not to release the sob you felt rising in your lungs.

"It's you. It's always been you."

James's eyes never left your face as you took everything in, the look behind them never having seemed so determined, so desperate. But there was something behind the way he looked at you, something so warm and honest, so familiar that you felt ridiculous for never noticing it before. And when your gaze flickered downward for a second in contemplation he tipped his head to follow it endearingly.

"Always," he promised. "Not Evans, not anyone else. I know I'm a bloody idiot, and I know I haven't been great at showing my emotions when it comes to you, but that's because it's you, and you mean everything to me and have since we were kids, and if this can't make you see that then I promise I'll spend every day trying to make up for it, and-"

"James." You stopped him, not knowing how much longer you could take sitting next to him and not getting rid of the frustrated crease between his brows, or how much longer you could ignore the thrum of your heart that called out to him so clearly now.

"Yeah?" he asked, and his eyes were like a deer in headlights. The warmth in their color reflected the simmering warmth from the fireplace, but that didn't compare to the fire that lay behind his gaze.

You placed the box, his box of the last six years of your friendship and then some, atop the couch next to you, and didn't wait another second before engulfing him in a hug. Your body crashed into his as he leaned back against the couch, his hands coming up to embrace you right away, and you heard him breathe a smile by your ear before he laughed, a perfect noise.

You felt like laughing then too, and crying, and everything else, because you couldn't remember the last time you'd gotten to hold him like this without the fear of revealing too much to him nagging at you. Your cheek pressed against his neck, his curls fanned against the top of your head, his hands held you tight, and you never wanted to leave the safety of his arms. Except to do one thing.

You pulled away from the hug and so did James after a second, his eyes wide and glistening but truly happy. He was smiling widely, his lopsided grin appearing after days like the sun after a storm, and you loved the sight more than anything, locking it away in the back of your mind as a memory you'd keep forever, like the box that sat next to you.

You laid a hand on his chest, another on his cheek, and James grasped the one that was flattened on his chest in his own, quickly glancing down at your hand in his like he couldn't believe he was holding it. He pulled you into him with it and leaned his head on yours.

"It's always been you, too," you whispered, and his eyes glanced down at your lips as you said the quiet words that'd been lingering on your lips for much too long. You had to push away your smile because you were aching to just kiss him like you'd wanted to for years. With a courage that could've only come from Godric himself, you finally did.

You leaned in until your lips met, a flutter of skin dancing shyly together until you leaned into him even further, and suddenly it felt like the crash of a wave, and sounded like the earth was moving beneath your feet, the sound of something right—and this time, you knew it felt the same for him too, because you could feel his boyish grin that you'd spent years admiring tugging against your lips.

You were kissing your best friend. For real this time. It felt so impossible for your mind to imagine such a thing, but luckily it didn't have to.

James moved his hands but they never left you, one sliding through your hair smoothly and one delicately holding your waist like you were something fragile. Butterflies fluttered through you at his touch, something familiar but foreign, wrong but also right, and somessilyperfect. You couldn't believe you'd spent all those years just a few words away from getting to feel it, getting to be surrounded by it.

You pulled away after a moment, your lips feeling puffy and burning with the heat of his kiss, but all you could think about was how free you felt, how happy you were that he was finally yours.

James looked down at you, his eyes dancing all across your face and stopping on your lips, and then somehow growing even warmer when they met yours again.

"I can't-" he began with a slight disbelieving shake of his head, voice coming out breathless and dazed as heat flushed into your own cheeks at the sight. "I can't believe..."

You laughed, feeling out of breath too, and adjusted the glasses that now perched crookedly on James's nose in an agonizingly cute way.

"Me neither," you finished for him, because you knew just how he felt, a secret the both of you shared; it was the only secret you still wanted to keep.

And it was a feeling you never wanted to have to live without again. Though now, with him in your arms and his familiar chocolate curls still brushing against your forehead, you knew you would never have to.

taglist!!

@hisparentsgallerryy @msmk11 @garfieldsladybird @empath-bunny @urmykindofwoman @bambi-jp @babyclea @kenjikishimotoswifey @cloudroomblog @the-marauders-mapp @mooonyxoxo @imgondeletedis @moon-flowerrs @fruticake @arey0usirius @marauroon @swiftsgirlfriend @jamieolivia27 @magicwithaknife

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le-clair-de-lune · 17 days ago

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thank you for the tag angel!!

My top artist was the Wallows (claiming my spot as one of their top 0.05% fans) and my top song was Are You Bored Yet?

tagging mutuals!!! @lizpottersworld @everythingisromant1c and anyone else who wants to try!!!

ok i’ll be annoying for a little bit longer and propose a yearly wrapped moodboard challenge… make a moodboard for your top song this year<3 bonus points for favorite artist too!

i listened to “good luck, babe!” 250 times this year. what happened next may come as a surprise to you...

np tags: @cherry-burst @hypnagogics @pizzaapeteer @slytherinslut0 @jayybugg

#slightly inaccurate #love wallows but my spotify wrapped was so off lol #they were probably my top artist but are you bored yet is not my top song

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everythingisromant1c · 2 months ago

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trouble in Hollywood🎥 James Potter au

co-star!james potter x actress!reader

summary: after spending years as an aspiring actress, everything seems to be finally falling into place. for one thing, you landed your first lead role starring in a new tv series filming in LA. the only problem: you can't stand your co-star.

a/n: im planning on keeping this an ongoing blurb series w/ the first few parts a bit longer, but i cant want to get to work on releasing it!!

also pls pls feel free to send in any requests or scenario ideas for this au—the possibilities r endless so id love some suggestions😙

comment // send in a request to be added to the tag list !!

masterlist

p1 : chemistry read w/ actor!james

p2 : three reasons why you can't stand co-star!james potter

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everythingisromant1c · 4 months ago

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It's Always Been You - Chapter 10

james potter x fem!reader

summary - In all the excitement—or horror, to you—of the week, including the rumors that were still spreading rapid-fire around school, or your supposed best friend James's mysteriously terrible mood, you'd almost forgotten: the time had finally come for you to go on your date in Hogsmeade.

wc [5.0k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 9 - Chapter 11 ->

Maybe your best friend's unexplainable foul mood had been the reason that sleep came difficult to you that night, or maybe it was the fact that the clock in your brain was counting down until the time the sun would rise. The time when morning would come and you'd take that carriage ride over to Hogsmeade with the boys like you'd promised, and have to find Sebastian to go on your date with him. Your date. It still didn't feel real.

You didn't know if anything you'd done in the past could truly be qualified as an official date, one you could refer back to that morning as you finally saw sunlight through your window and knew you'd have to get ready. Luckily, you had two of the best girls you knew for friends, and they were set on helping you.

"I'm telling you, it's the first dress." Marlene nodded her head at you with wide, excited eyes, as you held two different dresses still on hangers up to your neck. "I mean are you kidding? It's one hundred percent your color, and you look sexy as hell in it."

Your jaw dropped at her antics. "Marlene," you cooed nervously.

"I mean it. Sebastian's not gonna be able to keep his hands off of you when he sees you."

You covered your face with your hands, half because you were embarrassed, and half because you didn't need Lily and Marlene to see you spiraling at the thought of what Marlene had just suggested. You'd been so caught up with, well, everything going on, that you hadn't even considered what going on a date truly entailed. What if he wanted to kiss you?

"Then you kiss him back," Marlene said easily as you voiced your question aloud. She stopped herself. "But only if you want to, of course."

"Yeah," Lily agreed, placing down a pair of nice shoes with a short but elegant heel on them that you'd forgotten you'd owned on the floor next to you. "Only do something if you want to do it. Don't let him pressure you into doing anything you don't want to. Even if it's as simple as holding your hand."

"Thank you guys, I know." You set the dress you were planning on wearing on the bed beside you, fiddling with the hanger pensively. "Holding his hand would be nice, I think." You chewed on the inside of your cheek, sitting down on the blanketed mattress. "To be honest, I don't know what I want." The two girls came to stand closer to you as you spoke. "I mean, Sebastian's a great guy and all, but do I even know him all that well?" Your mind traveled back to all the interactions you'd had with him. "What if I only said yes to go out with him because he asked me during the middle of that prank and I panicked and-"

"You need to relax," Lily said, voice firm but comforting at the same time. "You're just freaked out because it's the morning of. You're gonna have a great time." She shrugged a shoulder. "And if things don't click, then it wasn't meant to be. It's not the end of the world. "

"Exactly," the blonde said from next to her. "Don't let Potter's nonsense-spewing mouth ruin this date for you."

You'd filled them in the night before on all that'd been going on with James for the past few days, minus the few intimate 'almosts' that you'd shared with him that'd been dangerously playing in your mind even when you begged them to stop.

"Trust me," you said. "I'm trying not to."

"I still can't believe he's acting like this." Lily shook her head agitatedly. "And just when I was starting to think he might be maturing."

You nodded grievingly. "I would defend his honor to you, Lily, but I don't feel much like doing that right now."

"Maybe it's for the best." She breathed out a dry laugh. "Anyways, I suppose," she sighed. "Are you finished in the bathroom? I need to use the loo."

You snorted. "Yeah, all yours."

She shot you an overly excited grin and slipped into the bathroom, the door shutting behind her. All the while, Marlene took a seat on the bed next to you, something glimmering behind her eyes that told you she had ideas she wanted to voice.

You stared at her half amusedly, half hesitantly. "What is it?"

"Did you ever think, during all your bickering, why Potter has such a problem with you going on this date?"

You sighed. That was all you could think about. You tipped your head at her, knowing where this conversation was going to lead. "Yeah," you said plainly. "Because he's set on the five of us spending every Hogsmeade trip together until we die."

"Or maybe," she argued, "it's because he's jealous."

You dropped your shoulders, shaking your head as you stared at her. "You're not serious."

The blonde stared back at you with an equal amount of fire. "I so am."

You laughed to yourself, perhaps deprecatingly. "The only thing James could be jealous about is the free butterbeer I'll probably be getting."

"Don't be dense."

"I'm not being dense. I'm being realistic." You puffed out a breath. "I know James. Well enough to know that, after we ..." you trailed off. "After the party, when he disappeared, he was freaked out because I'd scared him off. And he knows me too. I didn't have to tell him for him to figure out that I'd ... felt something for him. Something that he obviously was uncomfortable talking about, so I've spared him the trouble and moved on. That's the end of it." You picked up the dress you'd laid on the bed as you heard Lily washing her hands in the bathroom. "It has to be."

Marlene regarded you for a few seconds, maybe scoping out how genuine you were. "Like you said," she shrugged, "you know him best."

You nodded, ending the conversation as Lily exited the bathroom. Though the more this week went on, you believed that fact less and less.

You soon were leaving the sides of both Lily and Marlene after the walk down to the horseless carriages in front of the school, dozens of them stationed there to take everyone down to Hogsmeade.

The air was especially crisp for a September evening, making you think to yourself that maybe bringing a jacket would have been a smart choice, especially in the dress you were wearing, but your brain soon became occupied by other thoughts. Thoughts that were centered around the sight of your four friends standing around an unoccupied carriage in the distance, probably waiting for you.

You took a breath in, and then another one. You were completely devoted to ensuring this would be a drama-free carriage ride, no matter what, or who, tried to stop that from happening. You made your way over to the four boys, two of their backs turned to you. You tapped the long-haired one, of course Sirius, on the shoulder.

"You didn't think you were going to leave without me, did you?" you smirked up at him.

He had a wry smile on his face as he turned to you, surely ready with a quip to send back your way, but that smile left as he saw you, his eyes quickly scanned over you.

"Wow," he blanched. Then a sparkling grin took over his features. "You certainly clean up nice."

You crinkled your forehead at his remark and amused smirk until Remus cut in. "What he means is," corrected the sandy-haired boy from next to him. "You look beautiful. Seriously."

You felt your face begin to heat at the four pairs of eyes all now observing you as you stood there in your dress. You were surprised they weren't poking more fun at you than just Sirius's single obvious remark. You couldn't remember the last time you were this dressed up in front of them.

"Thanks," you muttered gratefully. "Now stop gushing and let's get a move on, yeah?"

Remus shook his head at your reaction but hid his laugh, taking an effortless step onto the high carriage, Peter quietly behind him. Sirius made a move to ruffle your hair, which you dodged easily and shot him a glare. He chuckled, making his way over to the carriage as well. That left only you and James.

You turned to him finally, expecting him to be avoiding your eyes as he'd done for the past few days, but instead found him looking straight at you, hazel eyes and all. You didn't know what to do under his gaze which you'd grown somewhat unused to, so you settled on doing nothing at all. You were still holding your grudge over how he'd been acting and weren't quick to forget about it. You were fully expecting him to do the same and say nothing to you at all.

"You do," he said suddenly, and at the confused quirk of your brow, softly added, "Look beautiful, I mean."

You paused, somewhat taken aback by both his words and the genuine tinge of his eyes. You didn't know how James could hold eye contact so easily, especially when he'd been so set on doing just the opposite lately.

"Oh," you voiced quietly, and couldn't help the way the corners of your lips tilted upwards. "Thanks."

He nodded wordlessly and the two of you turned back to the carriage that held your three other friends, clearly able to hear and see your conversation. You eyed the tall wooden floor of the carriage before you and then the high cut of your dress, and then your shoes. As if reading your mind, a firm hand held itself out in front of you.

You peaked your head over to the source of the hand: James, who looked at you expectantly, a certain air to him that was both light and heavy. You regarded him and his hand for a split second, deciding there was no harm in taking it, and did, your fingers slipping over his steadying palm as you took the large step into the carriage. And maybe you were imagining it, but you felt the ghost of his fingers delicately shadowing your lower back as you steadied yourself into your seat, James following from behind.

He sat across from you and you avoided looking at him as you fought reacting to the feeling that ran through you, like you were still on some kind of high from his touch. It only made you mad to think about, so you decided not to, looking elsewhere instead as the carriage began moving seemingly on its own.

It'd only taken a few moments for the Hogwarts castle to be only a beautiful shrinking sight in the distance, and for the scenery of the early fall to take over your senses instead. You were sat in front of James, who sat next to Peter, the blonde looking rather sickly and lost in troubling thoughts.

"Pete," you called curiously. "You alright? You look pale."

The boy in question turned to you with worry behind his eyes, but he only nodded. "Yeah, I'm great," he said, voice rather shaky for someone who was 'great.'

"He's just nervous about his date." Sirius reached across the carriage to pat Peter on his shoulder, shaking him a little in his frail state. "You've got nothing to be worried about, mate."

"Yeah, Sirus is right," you agreed. "Remember, she asked you out because she wanted to spend time with you as you already are. Just be yourself."

Sirius nodded, before shifting his focus to you. "And what about you? You nervous for your date with Vance?"

You shrugged. "Maybe before, but I think I'm alright now." You smiled thinly. "I already talked it out with Lily and Marlene in our dorm getting ready."

"So that's what you ladies do up there?" Sirius asked, and you frowned. "Thought there'd be more pillowfights in your underwear."

You made a nauseated expression as Sirius grinned at his own joke. "You're disgusting," you scolded, though Peter had let a smile overtake his face at the joke and you figured maybe it was worth it.

Remus was shaking his head as well from next to you, the corners of his mouth teasing upwards. You turned forward again, James straight in your line of vision, but it didn't even seem he was listening to the conversation at hand, head aimed out the side of the carriage. He looked more distant than ever as he sat tensely and you had to fight the urge to reach out to him. You knew all too well what would come from that.

You let your focus slip onto other things, like the wind that was brushing against your exposed arms and moving your hair slightly in the wind. You fought a shiver, bringing your hands up to rub at the sides of your arms—you were sure you had goosebumps.

For the second time that morning, like he was reading your mind, you watched as James held out his arm towards you, though this time he was holding something in his hand instead: his coat. It was brown on the outside, a light jacket that was lined with a soft flannel fabric, one that you always thought looked dashing on him. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to take it.

You faltered from surprise and then shook your head. "I'm alright," you said softly, pursing your lips.

"You're practically shivering," James pointed out, tipping out his chin at you. "Just take it."

"I don't want to take your own jacket from you, James. It's chilly."

"Exactly," he said, catching you in your lie. "And you're not taking it from me, I'm giving it to you."

You looked up from the jacket he was offering, if you could call it an offer, and at him, seeing the stubborn hold of his jaw and yet the sincere gloss of his eyes. Because you knew he wouldn't let you say no anyway now that you'd admitted it was chilly, you took it from his hand.

You wrapped the too-big coat over your shoulders, grateful but perhaps hateful of the way it immediately warmed you like the lighting of a fireplace. It smelt warm and comforting like a fireplace too, or maybe that was just the fact that it was James's jacket and he always smelled strangely nice. You blinked at yourself, chasing away your thoughts that were certainly not appropriate, considering you were currently on your way to a date with a different boy.

In all your thinking, it was like you could feel a pair of eyes on you. You looked up again, but James already had gone back to staring out at the moving scenery. You couldn't read him right then, and if there was anything you'd learned about James from all the years you'd known him, it was that you could always read him, even when others couldn't. The fact that you hadn't been able to read him for days was worrying you sick and setting you off all at once. You just wished you could get inside his head.

You sighed, your eyes shifting over to Remus, who was giving you the oddest of looks. The corners of his eyes crinkled, though his lips stayed shut together. You raised a brow and he only shrugged, looking away again. You really needed to get inside that boy's head, too.

Before you could even mull over the different possibilities of ways that your up-and-coming date could go wrong, a habit of your mind that you hated, the carriage had pulled up into Hogsmeade. It came to a slow stop next to the uniquely shaped brick buildings you'd become all too familiar with over the years. That didn't take away from the excitement bubbling inside your stomach—or maybe that was nervousness; you couldn't tell anymore.

All five of you exited the carriage, James offering you his hand again as you took the big step onto the ground. You were growing too frustrated to even consider the feeling of your hand in his larger one that somehow was still as warm as the jacket you wore. How he could be so sweet yet so aggravatingly aloof you didn't know, but you forced your mind off the topic once again. Only, you couldn't force thoughts of James away completely, because he was calling your name as soon as you'd walked past him.

Your head turned to him so swiftly it almost made you dizzy. He was standing there along the side of a building you identified as The Three Broomsticks, hands now shoved into his trouser pockets with his head slightly tipped forward, though he stood up straighter as you made your way to him.

"Yeah?" you questioned, and maybe your tone was testy, but you didn't have it in you to alter it for his sake.

James shifted his footing underneath your gaze, taking a moment before speaking. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry."

The pull of your brows let up at his words and you observed his facial expressions shamelessly, sorting through what to say. Luckily, he spoke again before you could.

"I'm sorry for making you take the carriage ride into Hogsmeade with the rest of us. You should've just gone with your date. I was just in an ... off mood last night. Didn't mean to take it out on you."

And just like that, the hope you were harboring when James had first uttered the word 'sorry' had bubbled and churned inside of you until all that was left was dissatisfaction.

"Is that all?" you questioned.

James's lips parted. "What?"

"I mean, I'm grateful for your apology," you breathed the word like it left a foul taste in your mouth. "But is there anything else you'd like to talk about? Apologize for?"

James scratched his head almost comically, and you laughed without any humor as you began to turn around. Before you could take a single step, James grasped your wrist in his fingertips, and you fought not to notice how feather-light he held onto you.

"Like what?" he asked you, and at your stone expression he dropped your hand. "Please," he insisted.

You swallowed and shrugged up your shoulders irritatedly. "Oh, I don't know James, maybe the fact that you've been acting 'off' this whole week and won't say a word as to why?" You took the hand he'd held and put it to your forehead. "I've probably asked you if you were okay about a dozen times and all you can say to me is that you're 'fine' when you're clearly ticked off."

"Because that's the truth," James insisted.

"Please," you remarked. "It's not the truth. Don't lie to me, James. I know you. Better than anyone else, and I know when you're upset about something."

"I'm not upset, alright?" James squinted at you. "Why can't you just let it go?"

"Because!" You took a breath in, trying to calm yourself because this was not the drama-free morning you wanted to have. "Because, every time I've been down, which has been too many times to count, you've been there for me. Always."

You thought back to the night you realized you loved him as more than just a friend, when he'd comforted you through your tears so quickly and sweetly, and it only made you feel more exasperated.

"So I'm not just going to 'let it go' when something's so obviously bothering you, enough to make you act completely differently to the point where you won't even talk to me." You paused, noticing the sinking in James's gaze the more you spoke. "And quite frankly," you continued, "it hurts like hell that you don't think you can tell me what's been going on, because you can. We're supposed to be best friends, remember?"

James let out a low breath, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff that had your forehead pulling. "Trust me, I remember."

"Then why the hell won't you just talk to me?" Your palms were facing him, telling him it was his move, his turn to try and fix things.

"Because there's nothing to say." He'd thrown away his turn without a second glance, running a fast hand through his hair. "God, this was a mistake. Every time I talk to you, I just-" he stopped himself.

Your heart was beating hard in your chest. "You just what?"

James shook his stubborn head, a muscle in his jaw noticeably flexing. "Nothing, alright?" He looked upwards, like he was battling something greater than him, and began walking towards wherever the hell James Potter went when he didn't want to talk to you. You weren't going to let him.

"How long are you going to keep doing this for, James?" He halted his steps, turning his head back towards you with a rigid look in his eyes. "How long are you going to avoid me?"

"Avoid you?" he laughed, and you froze. "That's rich, coming from you of all people."

You clamped your jaw shut for a beat, blinking at him as your mind started to spin. "What are you talking about?" You knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm talking about when you were avoiding me just a few days ago. Ring a bell?"

You lowered your gaze, confidence stuttering. You didn't respond.

"I mean, you wouldn't even partner with me Defense Against the Dark Arts, for Merlin's sake."

"That was different," you argued, though you were ashamed of how pathetic the words sounded coming from your lips.

"How?" James asked, staring at you fearlessly now with raised, expectant brows and an unmoving jaw.

"It ... it just is!" You looked away. "We're getting off track. My point was that ... I just miss you, James." The irony of your warm words contrasted with the angry shake of your lips didn't escape you. "I miss the James who wouldn't push me away every time I tried to have a conversation with him, or who wouldn't act like a bloody child every time I mention I'm going on a date."

If you thought you saw a crack of guilt racking James's expression, there was no trace of it now.

"Oh yeah?" he questioned, his tone colder than you'd ever heard it. "I'm sorry I don't like talking about your beloved Sebastian every five minutes."

"Well it's not like I can talk to you about anything else, can I?" Your heart was thumping in your chest and you felt like crying. "You know what?" You chewed on the inside of your cheek, turning away. "I give up! Let's just talk whenever you're ready to be honest with me."

Your back was to him when he shouted, "You want me to be honest?" You scoffed, nodding your head. "That's what you want?" he repeated.

"Yes James!" you shouted. "That's exactly what I want!"

"Well then, fine!" He wiped a desperate hand over his face, throwing up his arms. "We kissed, alright?"

Your heart sizzled somewhere in your chest beneath your stilled lungs, every part of you halting its movements. Your expression fell slowly and you blinked at him, staring wordlessly for a moment. "What?"

James stared back at you, looking at you more than he'd looked at you in the past week altogether. The opposite of yours, his chest heaved up and down like he'd been fighting for air and could only now come up for oxygen. He didn't look like he'd misspoken and that scared you more than anything.

"We kissed. Last week. At the party."

Your lips hung, parted and confused. "What are you-"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. We kissed, and you ran off, and I haven't been able to stop thinking about it since."

Your eyes felt like they had a mind of their own, scanning rapidly over James and then looking at the ground, your heeled shoes, anywhere but at him because your world was shifting around you, the walls of what you thought you knew crumbling down on you.

You swallowed, throat going dry. "James," you voiced carefully. "That kiss was ..." you shook your head. "We were playing a game."

Maybe he would take the slowness of your words for sureness rather than struggle, because that along with seemingly every other emotion was what you were feeling inside.

"No, c'mon. Don't do that." James shook his head back at you and you felt like running away, but you couldn't now. Not when he was looking at you like that. "Don't try and make it seem like that was all it was, because it wasn't. Not for me, and I know it meant more to you too."

The cool breeze from before had picked up and was turning into an inexorable wind that made you feel worse than you already did. Could he see the way you had to stop yourself from shaking? Hear the way you willed your heartbeat to stop pounding? Clearly not, because he kept talking.

"For days, weeks even, all that's been on my mind was you. Do you know how hard it is to get anything done when all I can think about is my best friend kissing me?"

You felt dizzy with the way he was staring into your eyes. Like you'd voiced to yourself a million times, how James held eye contact so effortlessly was a mystery you'd never find the answer to.

"And I know you said you wanted to just pretend like the kiss never happened, but you should know that I can't do that, alright? Trust me. I've tried, and obviously that didn't work." He ran a hand through his tousled hair again. "So I just ... I need you to say something to me. Anything."

You willed yourself to speak again, blood rushing past your ears now. "I ... I don't know what to say. It was a part of a game."

James practically flinched. "Anything but that." He breathed out a laugh without any chest, tipping his head back and taking steps around. "God."

You still felt like crying, because nothing was making sense. Then James refocused on you, and you felt pinned underneath his gaze.

"You can tell me it was part of a game however many times you want." His words were achingly slow and desperate. "But tell me ... just tell me you didn't feel anything when we kissed. That it meant absolutely nothing to you, and I'll stop talking. I promise."

You knew he meant what he said; you could see it all through his hazel eyes. You'd asked for honesty and you'd gotten it. You knew that you couldn't lie to him anymore, and you said your truth with your voice was on the verge of breaking.

"I can't." Even if your voice shook, James heard it loud and clear. He stopped moving and stepped closer to you whether he noticed or not. "But that doesn't mean it can mean anything now."

If it was possible, he went even more still. His eyes pleaded with you to say more to him, so you did. "It's not fair, James." Your voice broke off, and James took both your hands in his, and held them tight near his chest, like hope pumped through them.

"What? What's not fair, Love?"

You flinched at the name you hadn't heard in seemingly forever, but it pinched at the part of your brain that remembered it vividly. You didn't know how this moment was real. You looked down at his hands that engulfed yours. "It's not fair that it meant something, because it can't."

You pretended not to notice the way James's hands loosened their hold. "Not when-" your voice hitched at the sign of your eyes blurring despite how much you'd willed them not to. "Not after I spent months—years, even—trying to make every interaction between us mean something. After I spent all that time trying to get over you! It- it's not fair, and I won't do it. I won't."

You shook your head timidly and repeatedly like it would stop what was happening. You didn't know when you and James had moved away from each other, probably somewhere between your voice breaking and your eyes watering, but you had. But that wasn't was most important.

James had gone eerily still, painfully silent. That didn't change the fact that his unforgiving eyes continued to search what seemed like every inch of your face. His voice rang out lowly.

"Get over me?" His heavy brows furrowed in hurt and bewilderment. "Wh-" he choked. "What do you mean 'get over me'?"

You put a hand to your head, amused in your disbelief. "Like you haven't known."

James took a persistent step forward, the pinch between his brows desperate. "What the hell are you talking about?"

This all felt like a bad dream you couldn't wake up from. You forced yourself to breathe. "I really can't do this right now, I-" You didn't think you could do it ever. You pulled at the hem of your dress. "I have a date."

Even with the wind whipping against you both, you'd never heard a silence like the one you did right then.

"You're really still going on that date?" James peered at you interrogatingly, his eyes slightly red now, and it killed you.

"What am I supposed to do, James?"

You wiped at your nose. James's hands were elevated at his sides like he wanted to reach out to you, but didn't. He looked like he didn't know what he wanted to do, but he didn't stop.

"You can't just go running away all because ..." he panted, "because..." His voice trailed off.

You wanted to shout at him that all you'd done since forever was stop yourself from running away, but you didn't. It wasn't his fault you'd tortured yourself all these years. But that didn't mean he could get his happy ending with the snap of his fingers, either.

Just to twist the knife in your chest, he whispered, "Please."

You dropped your gaze low to the cobblestone ground beneath your feet, blurry now through your lashes. "I need to go." The sight of him standing before you, eyes watery and lips parted helplessly, sent painful pangs through your heart. You moved your head, willing yourself to turn away and your legs to move. You didn't think you could leave if you looked him in the eyes. "I'm sorry."

Those same eyes followed you as you walked down the path, head hung low but steps quickening despite. Steps taken in the direction of The Three Broomsticks, where you'd go on your date with Sebastian. Your mind kicked and screamed at you at every step, but you couldn't get them to stop.

You felt James's eyes on your retreating form like you felt the wind snapping against your cheeks, though you didn't turn back to look at him. That way, he wouldn't be able to see the way your expression shook at the effort of just trying to keep yourself together.

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everythingisromant1c · 4 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You - Chapter 11

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Even with the events of the morning, you were still determined to go on your date in Hogsmeade. Though, after the heated discussion you'd had with James, you weren't sure how enjoyable the experience could be.

wc [5.3k]

a/n: hello all!! ty all for the love on the past chapters, and im both happy + sad to say that there will be one more chapter to this series! (ahh!) can't wait to release it very very soon <3 - e

all chapters | <- Chapter 10 - Chapter 12 ->

You'd arrived at Madam Puddifoot's so quickly you could've sworn you'd apparated, or at least that's what it'd felt like. It was like your legs had gone into autopilot, some sort of survival instinct that had willed you to keep walking when it was the last thing you wanted to do. Though at the same time, you didn't think you would've had it in you to continue your conversation with James, if you could even call it that.

It hurt too much in the moment. Hell, it hurt too much to even think about—though this time, you couldn't force yourself to just 'ignore' it. In fact, it was all you could think about the entire walk to the tea shop, even though you were meant to be thinking about someone else. That someone who was standing outside of the shop, tall frame and perfect smile greeting you next to the pink wooden door.

"Hey there," he called, the warmth from his smile audible to you even alongside the winds that almost howled against your figure. You already felt yourself panicking, because he looked so charming and hopeful and you were sure you looked anything but.

You pried away the hair that had flocked in front of your eyes thanks to the relentless breeze. Just as you'd suspected, you definitely did not look like the perfect, effortlessly pretty girl you were sure Sebastian was accustomed to seeing on a date.

His smile dropped, the inner workings of his brows pulling concernedly. "Hey, are you okay?" He moved closer until he had a hand gently holding one of your shoulders, eyes scanning over your face.

You nodded, gaze cast downwards busily. You lifted a hand over your cheek, alarmed as it came back damp and shining. You must've started to cry for real sometime between when your best friend confessed his supposed feelings for you and when you walked to your date with another guy—you felt faint.

"Yeah," you told him, though your voice cracked halfway. "Just had a rough morning, is all."

Sebastian looked over you for a few seconds, maybe bargaining whether he could still get out of this date before it even truly began. "Are you sure you're up for our date? If you want me to take you back to the castle, we can always reschedule-"

"No." You forced your lips to smile at him, your nose to take a breath in. "I'm better now." You tipped your head to the door behind him. "Let's head inside."

He relented, maybe not by choice because you'd already begun walking towards the entrance to the shop, but he did all the same. He managed to hold the door open for you, to which you nodded gratefully and walked into Madam Puddifoot's with as much dignity as you could muster.

The tea shop was decked out with romantic and frilly pink decorations on every wall, fine china and complicatedly patterned cloths on every table. Sebastian guided you to one of them, pulling out your chair for you without a second thought. You sat down, finally feeling a bit more stable, though that feeling was lost as soon as you moved to take off your coat.

Your fingers paused, even if only for the thinnest of seconds, on the fabric draped over your shoulders. You lowered your head—you were still wearing James's jacket. The warm scent enveloped you every time you breathed, so you didn't. At least, not until you lifted the jacket from off your shoulders and onto the back of your chair. Its presence was still a dizzying reminder of all that'd been said just a few minutes ago, something you had to fight not to react to as Sebastian took a seat across from you.

A heavy ten seconds passed until a dark-haired woman who you assumed was Madam Puddifoot herself came over to your table. She wore a smile and an apron with frills that matched the decorations. "What can I get for the lovely couple?"

You felt so unlike yourself that you didn't even flush at her use of the word 'couple.' Sebastian gestured for you to order first. Your mind was strangely blank as you voiced, "Just a ginger tea, please."

Madam Puddifoot gave you a strange and assessing look after you spoke, the shadow of a motherly, concerned frown disturbing her features. "My dear, are you alright?"

If one more person asked you that you thought you were going to cry again. You looked up at the woman and nodded, a polite smile gracing your lips. "I'm alright, thank you." Changing the topic as Madam Puddifoot continued to stare at you, you looked over at the boy across from you. "What would you like, Sebastian?"

"I'll just take a black tea, thanks." He smiled handsomely up at Madam Puddifoot, and that seemed to satisfy her.

She nodded and clapped her hands together. "One Ginger and one Black!" she yelled to no one in particular, until suddenly two fragile-looking cups of tea came swarming towards your table, seemingly appearing from nowhere, and set themselves down in front of you both. The witch clapped her hands again and a plate of biscuits appeared before you to accompany your tea.

She smiled, satisfied. "Anything else I can get you, dears?"

Sebastian looked at you as you shrugged, so he shook his head no at the woman, who nodded before moving to greet another pair of students who'd appeared at the door.

"So," Sebastian began, picking up his tea but not drinking it. "You said you had a rough morning?"

You looked down at the cup in front of you. "I'd rather not talk about it, if that's alright."

Sebastian pinched his brows. "Right, I'm sorry."

You shook your head. "Don't be." Then you picked up your own tea, taking a sip of its gingery contents that only soothed your mind a little bit. "How was your own morning?"

"It was alright. Took the carriage ride in with my mate and his date." He laughed to himself. "Can't help but think I was a bit of a third wheel, really."

"Right, I'm so sorry about that." You set down your tea. "My friend ... my friends wanted me to spend some time with them for the first Hogsmeade trip of the year." You felt sick just saying it, the sentence cloaked in your poorly hidden disguise as you fought your expression from changing.

"No worries. I get it." Sebastian plucked a biscuit off the porcelain plate between you. "That reminds me of my first time going to Hogsmeade in the third year, actually."

He began relaying a story to you about him and his friend, something about a permission slip not being signed, but you couldn't help but become distracted. Distracted by whatever mess was going on up in your brain.

"Do you know how hard it is to get anything done when all I can think about is my best friend kissing me?"

The dizzying words whipped around in your head like a sail in violent winds, and you tried your hardest to lower the mast. You looked at the daintily beautiful setup before you, aged tablecloth and intricate silverware, biscuits and jam placed effortlessly in the middle of it all. The whole scene seemed to mock you, really. The perfect setup for a date and yet your mind couldn't even seem to recognize that you were on one.

You somehow managed to refocus on what Sebastian was saying, him luckily having not noticed your wandering mind, and willed yourself to laugh and smile when appropriate. It wasn't his fault; his story was funny, or at least you thought it should've been on any other occasion.

"I've heard Vance tell about a million jokes to you and, trust me, you couldn't get a five-year-old to laugh at any one of them."

As those words rang through your head, you truly became angry. Angry at James for even having said them, but more so angry at yourself for even thinking of them during a time like this.

"And ever since then, his parents have had to send his permission slip directly to Dumbledore by owl." Sebastian finished his story with a nostalgic glint in his eye, and you hummed a laugh that you hoped sounded genuine enough. God, you were just awful.

For the rest of the date, time seemed to pass by slower and slower until you'd lost track of how many times you had to muster up a smile or calculate a laugh as your brain worked against you. But your method seemed like it was working well enough, and Sebastian seemed unbothered by your slight passiveness. It made you wonder how well you really knew each other.

The stuffiness of the shop was swelling and threatening the steady rhythm you'd made. Maybe you'd cooled off on the outside, but inside it felt like your mind was overheating and melting the rest of you until it made it difficult to breathe normally without focusing on that alone.

Maybe thirty minutes had gone by, or an hour, but it became a lot harder to focus on doing that when you watched as Sebastian went quiet and placed a soft hand on yours atop the table. You looked down at his fingers that encapsulated yours, a romantic gesture, surely, and then back at him. This time though, he had inched closer from across the round table and his gaze had gone soft and your heart had dropped in your chest because this was exactly what you thought would happen—Did he want to kiss you?

You panicked, you didn't know why, but you did. You pulled your hand from his swiftly and, in the blink of an eye, a crash and a painful clang rang out and suddenly there were shards of white porcelain all over the floor next to you.

You'd knocked over a teacup. Of course you had.

You panicked even more. "Oh my God," you cursed. "Crap."

You knelt down and began picking up the scattered pieces, but there were so many and your head was still spinning from earlier and you were thinking about someone else when Sebastian had tried to kiss you and suddenly your vision was blurring over.

Sebastian quickly got up from his seat and joined you in your effort to pick up the broken fragments of your cup. When they were all picked up and you placed them back down on the table, a mess next to the prettily stacked biscuits and jam, he frowned when he saw your distraught expression and teary eyes.

"Hey, are you hurt?" he questioned hurriedly. "Did you get cut?"

You shook your head. "No, I didn't." Your voice broke, and suddenly you really were crying again, surely causing a scene in the tea shop.

"Hey, it's okay," cooed Sebastian, some confusion lining his voice. "It's only a teacup. I'm sure Madam Puddifoot has hundreds of others."

You shook your head pathetically. "No, it's ... it's not that."

He regarded you for a moment. "Is it because I tried to kiss you?"

You didn't respond, maybe from embarrassment, or shame, or because of the effort of trying to stop yourself from crying, but Sebastian sighed.

"It is, isn't it?" He shook his head in his hand, elbow on the table. "I shouldn't have tried to kiss you. It's too early, and you're clearly upset-"

"It's alright, Sebastian." You wiped at your cheeks. "We're on a date in Madam Puddifoot's. That's what people do when they come here. This is all my fault really. This whole mess, it's my fault."

"It was only an accident," Sebastian reasoned, and at your shattered expression, he stopped himself. "Not about the teacup. Right."

You sat there in silence for a beat, peering at the physical mess you'd made as well.

"If you don't mind me asking," Sebastian began, "is this all about what happened this morning?"

Your heart stung in your chest for a moment at the thought of it. "Yeah... it is." You looked away, gathering yourself. "Just a thing with a friend. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he told you, for what seemed like the thousandth time since you'd met him. He went silent for a second too, head tipped down before lifting it back up. He seemed to look at you then like he was seeing right through you. "The friend is Potter, isn't it?"

Your eyes snapped to him as your stomach churned and a wave of guilt washed over you. "How-" you gaped. "How did you know?"

"I just had a feeling." He shrugged. "Plus, you came in wearing his jacket, so I just figured."

Your lips parted and you spared a glance over at the worn brown coat draped over the back of your seat. The guilt seemed to drown you now, and all you wanted to do was hide in your dorm.

"Look," Sebastian began, and he looked surprisingly not angry. "I don't know what happened with Potter, but whatever it is, you should probably be with him right now. Not with me."

A premonition churned in your gut at his words. "I don't know if that's the best idea right now, if I'm being honest."

"Like I said, I don't know what's happened. But," he looked down at the shards of porcelain on the table between you, "you don't just go breaking tea cups over anyone."

You laughed then, or maybe it was a half-sob, but it wasn't calculated and it would've felt good, had the weight in your chest not been still weighing down on you.

"And," he continued. "He ... Potter ... the way he is around you ... you're obviously not just 'anyone' to him either."

At his words and the genuinely considerate look in his eyes, you felt aggravated at yourself. Here you were, sitting in a tea shop with the kind of guy any girl would dream of getting to have a first date with, and you'd ruined it.

"Thanks, Sebastian," you said, "but I can't ask you to talk about this with me. It's not fair to you." You stood up from your seat on shaky legs and took James's jacket in your hands. You didn't think you had it in you to put it on again, no matter how chilly it'd gotten outside. "And I hope you don't hate me for ruining this date."

Sebastian shook his head. "I don't. Trust me."

You smiled at him, though you were sure you still looked insane from all the crying you'd done. "Don't worry about walking me all the way back, I'll be alright. And I think I'd prefer to be alone right now anyway."

"Right." Sebastian tilted his head at you. "Is at least to the door alright?"

You gave in, because he was still so charming, and he placed a stack of coins on the table. You were sure there was some extra money there as well for the teacup you'd broken, and you couldn't even argue with him because you didn't know if you had it in you after the morning you'd had.

He opened the door and you both left, standing idly outside the shop, the wind still energetic and unforgiving.

"For what it's worth," Sebastian began before you could bid him goodbye. "I don't think anyone could ever hate you. Especially not Potter."

You swallowed, grateful for his words and also hating the way they settled in your throat. Before you could say anything more, he tipped his head at you in goodbye and walked off. Then you did too, though you really didn't have a plan of what you would do next.

Your body seemed to drag itself all the way back to Hogwarts. The walk was probably no more than ten or so minutes but it felt eternal as you'd spent every second of it trying to escape the acid rainstorm of your mind's muddied thoughts. That, along with trying not to cry for the third time that day.

Your footsteps pattered slowly into the empty common room and up the stairs to your equally empty dorm, and you remembered with a sigh that nearly everyone was still enjoying their day at Hogsmeade. It was a blessing and a curse, giving you some solitude but also meaning you wouldn't see your friends for hours.

You'd spent the rest of the day in bed, doing some homework from time to time but mainly just letting your mind wander wherever it wanted to because you didn't have the energy to stop it—that meant you spent an aggravatingly long amount of time thinking about James.

You were angry at him, so angry, because he had all this time to tell you how he was feeling and didn't; not until you were about to go on a date with another boy, one that was ruined anyway.

But you were also frightened because you didn't know how you were supposed to come back from this. Your hands shook and your mind whirled as you realized that you'd have to speak to James again eventually—he was your best friend. But the more you thought about it, you didn't even know if that could still be the case after everything that'd happened.

What if he hated you now? What if you'd ruined everything with him, just like you'd spent all those nights fearing you would, and you'd lost him for good? If there were answers to your questions, you weren't sure you wanted to hear them just yet.

Soon enough the door to your dorm rattled, the hours slipping past you in your state of worry, and Lily and Marlene appeared in the doorway. They still had the ghosts of laughter on their faces that paused at their noticing you.

"Hey you," Marlene sang, an expectant grin tugging at her lips. "So? How did it go?" When she entered the room far enough to notice you on your bed, still in your dress from earlier with your makeup surely ruined, she stilled. "Oh no." She put her bag down on the ground next to her.

Lily turned towards you both curiously. "What happened?"

You ran both of your hands over your face, grimacing as some of the mascara that'd run down your cheeks revealed itself on your fingers. " 'What didn't happen' is a better question, I suppose."

The two girls came to sit with you on your bed and, for the first time that day, you verbally went through all that had happened since you left their side that morning, including your mess of a date and all that James had said to you right before it. It took more effort than you would've liked just to keep your voice steady, but that didn't stop them both from giving you achingly sympathetic looks the whole time you spoke, mixed with both fury and shock. When you finished, you felt like you were out of breath. A silence vibrated through the air before either of them spoke.

"Are you okay?" Lily asked, and that question broke you just like you swore it would when it was asked to you earlier. You looked down at the dress you still wore, trying to fight off the emotion trying to claw its way up your throat, and Lily took you in her arms before it could. Marlene joined in then too and you let yourself be held by them as you felt like breaking.

They didn't rush or make any effort to pull away until you did, though you did after a moment, knowing there was more to talk about that they were too nice to pry over.

"We don't have to talk about it anymore if you don't want to." Marlene tipped her head at you concernedly.

You shook your head. "No, I'm alright now. I think." You shrugged. "And maybe talking about it will help."

The blonde nodded slowly. "So, what exactly did Potter say to you?"

You blinked slowly, finding it all too easy to recall the conversation. "He said that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about the kiss since it happened. And that it ... meant something to him."

Lily looked at you pensively. "And did you tell him about your feelings for him too?"

"I-" you went still, blinking at the redhead, who stared back at you with the slightest shadow of a smile toying at her lips. A mixture of both guilt and embarrassment clawed in your chest as you fought for words. "You knew?"

She tipped her head at you, the forgiving look she gave you speaking volumes, and you internally thanked Merlin for blessing you with the best friends in the bloody world.

"Of course I knew," she chided. "Anyone with a pair of eyes can see that you both are in love with each other." At her choice of words something fluttered in your stomach uncomfortably.

"I wouldn't say love is the right word for whatever he says he feels for me," you responded. Lily and Marlene shared a loaded look from either side of you as you spoke dismissively. "Clearly it's not the same as how he feels about you, Lily."

"Yeah," she said, meaning a thousand dizzying things. "It's not."

She looked at you meaningfully then, and you found it hard to not wilt under her gaze. You shifted your eyes to somewhere else and felt even worse as they landed on the brown jacket that sat on the end of your bed. Like she noticed your thoughts right away, Marlene stood up and picked up the coat.

"I'm going to go get rid of this." When you lifted a weak brow at her she added, "I mean, return it to him."

Lily shook her head from next to you and you both watched your friend leave the dorm room. She gestured with her head for you to follow her as she got up and went into the bathroom. You did, scaring yourself as you got a glimpse of your appearance in the mirror. Your eyes were still tinted pink and your makeup was a mess.

Lily had you sit atop the toilet as she wet a towel and began wiping away at your cheeks. The fabric was warm on your skin, her touch light and gentle.

"So, what are you gonna do?" she asked the question as she stepped away to re-wet the cloth and you shrugged, already knowing what she was referring to.

"I don't know." You focused on the feeling of the towel on your face. "At this point, I think I'm just not meant for all this dating stuff. I mean, first with the rumors, and then with that girl harassing me about Sebastian in the library. I practically cried when he tried to kiss me, for Merlin's sake."

Lily paused her actions, skin going taught around her brows. "He tried to kiss you? When you were clearly upset?"

You looked down at your lap. "I was hiding my emotions the whole time, laughing at all his jokes. Maybe I felt bad for ruining the date, I don't know. All he did was lean slightly forward and I freaked out. If I'd been feeling better, I ... I would've wanted to. Kiss him, I mean. He was incredibly sweet the entire time, even after I cried and broke that tea cup. But all I could think about was bloody James the entire time."

"Well of course you were thinking about him." Lily stood back up fully and ran the towel she'd used underneath the sink. "He just dumped all this emotional stuff on you after hardly speaking to you all week. Of course you're going to be thinking about it."

You stared at her back. "So you don't think it means anything else?"

"Well," she turned back around and leaned against the sink. "Would you have been thinking about him even if he hadn't confessed to you this morning?"

Your mouth feathered open and then shut itself closed at her question, and you kept your gaze low. You could feel the answer your heart already knew fighting to make its way past your lips.

Before time forced an answer from you, the sound of Marlene's footsteps made their way into the bathroom as she re-entered your dorm. It took her a second to find the two of you before she was sticking her head in the bathroom.

"Lupin and Black are downstairs asking to see you." Your eyes subtly widened at her words automatically. "Don't worry, I'll tell them to fuck off."

"No," you stopped her. "I should talk to them." You felt peeved that the idea of seeing them made you so nervous; that was exactly what you didn't want to happen if things went wrong with James. "They aren't the reason for all this. They're still my friends." You stood up. "And maybe they're not even gonna ask about James."

As soon as you went down the stairs to the common room with Marlene and Lily in tow, your hopes were easily shattered. The two boys sat at the couch in front of the now crackling fireplace that filled the room with warm light and turned towards you with foreboding expressions.

"What the hell happened between you and James?"

You would've been mad at Sirius's frankness, but you were at least grateful they both weren't looking at you with painful sympathy like everyone else that day had. You could always count on them for that.

"Hello to you too."

The completely sober looks on their faces were something you weren't used to seeing, making you slow your steps as you sat down on one of the seats next to them. Marlene and Lily stood on either side of you like security guards.

"Seriously," Sirius insisted. "James has never been like this before. We don't even know where he is right now."

"He's probably out on the Quidditch pitch." Your voice came as a surprise to you as the words left your lips, small but steadily confident. You ignored the way they looked at you. "I thought James would have told you all what happened by now."

"He did," said Remus, and you felt your heart picking up in your chest. "But that doesn't mean we're not confused about it."

You stared hardly back at them both. "I'm just as confused about it as you guys are, alright?"

"Well, maybe you should go and talk to him," Sirius insisted. "He's pretty upset."

"And?" Marlene scoffed from behind you. "Are you saying that it's her fault?"

Sirius glared at the girl behind you. "All we're saying is that James disappeared after we got off the carriage, and the next time we saw him he looked like he'd been crying. Crying for Merlin's sake."

A feeling unidentifiable knawed at you—something like surprise, something like guilt—and you looked down at your lap, hating yourself but also hating the situation more.

Marlene only groaned. "Oh come on. You really think it's fair to be trying to make her feel bad for poor Potter after all that's happened?"

You looked with trepidation at the faces of your two friends on the couch and then turned to look at her. "Marlene..." you coaxed, but she just took a step forward to stand next to you.

"No, I mean it." She pointed a finger at Sirius and Remus. "You lot have some nerve wailing about Potter's bloody feelings to her. You weren't the ones who had to comfort her every time she came back heartbroken, practically in tears, over Potter's sheer blindness at the amazing girl right in front of him. And you definitely weren't the ones fighting off feral girls who decided to harass her in the library over the bloody rumors everyone is spreading. But you didn't even know about that, did you?"

You felt heat rushing to your face the more she spoke, but you didn't think she was anywhere near finished. In all the chaos from the last day, you hadn't told them anything about the library incident. You also hadn't ever truly discussed your feelings for James with them, but that was more your own fault than theirs, you supposed. You looked over at your friends' faces again and they were peering at you quizzically. You felt too much like hiding.

"So what if Potter's upset?" Marlene continued, voice truly raising now. "He has no right to be. Not after he went and ruined her date with Vance all because the boy has bloody awful timing. It's right selfish if you ask me. She deserves better."

When she finished, you'd all gone quiet, but not for any reason you would've hoped. You looked up with dread and found the face of the boy that'd been replaying endlessly in your mind the entire morning. You felt your breathing shallow in your chest at the sight of him.

James was standing there near the door of the common room, brown hair wet from the shower he'd probably taken after going out on the Quidditch pitch—just as you'd predicted he would—and his chest rose and fell beneath a fresh white T-shirt. Despite that, he didn't look like he'd been doing much better than you, and you could see the weight behind his eyes even from where you sat.

He'd heard Marlene's words, no doubt, but the question was how much he'd heard. You prayed with all your might that he hadn't been witness to her words about you crying over him in your dorm. Your cheeks were heating and you wanted to curse Marlene but couldn't, firstly because you loved her to pieces and secondly because you couldn't help but think over her words and find that she wasn't completely wrong. But that didn't mean staring at James right then was any easier.

He scanned over a now silent Marlene from beside you, probably Lily as well, and then you. An ocean of thoughts and painful images of words shared through raised voices rippled unforgiving through your head. His expression revealed little to nothing, but you knew he was thinking about the same things you were.

The air was thick with words unsaid, or maybe with the words that were said, you couldn't be sure, but you found it hard to breathe. Your lips parted, but you said nothing. He didn't either, his jaw ticking before he broke his painful gaze away from you and stalked off up the stairs and to his dorm, out of sight.

You felt like you could breathe again, albeit with some strain, but the atmosphere didn't become any less tense.

"Look," Sirius began, and you didn't know how much more conversation you could take. "We-, and don't blow up at us again McKinnon," he gave her a pointed but nervous look. "Me and Remus haven't been there for everything—you're right. But we've also seen things from James's side. He's more confused than he's probably been about anything in his life, and it's not for just any reason. He's scared." He looked pointedly at you, and you'd never seen him so serious. "And we know you are too. I get that. But if this is how things are going to be from now on, we can't just sit here and let it happen."

"What do you want me to do?" You almost begged as your exasperation began to bleed through to your voice. "Just march up there and tell him I'm ready to be with him?" The way they were staring back at you made you think they were about to tell you 'yes.' You let a stressed breath out, shaking your head. "It's not that easy. I wish it was, but it's not, alright?"

When they said nothing back, you continued. "I've been hurting over these ... feelings ... for years. He doesn't just get to realize he liked it when we kissed a week ago and have me. It can't work like that."

A dull silence rippled through the room before anyone said anything more.

Remus sighed and looked straight at you, his eyes achingly genuine. "At the end of the day, you and James are still best friends. You've been attached at the hip since you were kids. See how long you last trying to avoid each other."

You swallowed and your stomach almost seemed to hurt at the sound of Remus's words. You didn't know what to say back to him, but you didn't need to, because soon the portrait door was opening again and Peter strolled in, looking like he was walking atop clouds.

"Hey you guys," he greeted, a smile gracing his face with his hands in his pockets. "My date went spectacularly. We even went to- is something wrong?" Peter studied each of your expressions and you felt horrible at the fact that you'd forgotten all about him and his date. He frowned over at you. "What did I miss?"

You sighed. You didn't even know how to begin to answer that question.

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msmk11 · 3 months ago

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Thank you for the tag lovely @moonpascal

npt: @mischievousmoony @everythingisromant1c

oooh thanks for the tag vhas @chrysofightme !! <3

tagging some usuals and also some moots i haven’t rlly interacted w :0 @habizuh-studios @l7k-a @yanweiism @caeprus and anyone else!! no pressure <3

#tag games 🏷️#I feel like this says a lot about me #mk yaps #I actually love my room tho

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everythingisromant1c · 5 months ago

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It's Always Been You - Chapter 8

james potter x fem!reader

summary - With James having acted so strangely the night before, you couldn't stop worrying about him. So you decided to go talk with him, even if he was set on being alone. Luckily for you, you knew just where to find him. After all, he was your best friend.

wc [3.4k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 7 - Chapter 9 ->

The next morning, you sat with Marlene and Lily for breakfast, deciding you needed a break from the boys and all their sudden weird behavior. Your plan to escape them didn't seem to work very much though, since after only a few minutes Sirius was taking the seat next to you.

Marlene glared at him from across the table, recalling all that you'd told them about his interrogation over Sebastian to you last night.

"Lovely to see you too, McKinnon," he greeted sourly before turning to you. "Have you seen James?"

You frowned. "No, I thought he was with you guys."

"Well he's not. He's not in the dorm either. None of us have seen him since last night when he was in his weird mood."

You recounted how quiet he was the last time you saw him, hardly stopping to say goodnight before hurrying off to the dorms. You lowered your voice to a hushed whisper. "Have you checked the map?"

"Not yet," Sirius said back.

You thought for a moment, and an idea came to mind that told you the map wouldn't be needed. "I have a feeling I know where he is."

Without another word, you gathered up your things, and maybe a pastry or two, and took your leave out of the Great Hall. A confused-looking Sirius watched you all the while, but you felt as if you needed a moment alone with James anyway. Especially after seeing him look so closed off the night before.

It took a few minutes to make it all the way across the castle, but soon enough you'd made it down to the locker rooms next to the Quidditch pitch, somewhere you knew James frequented when he spent some time alone.

The hall was mostly empty, which you blamed on the fact that breakfast had only just been served, though you managed to catch one boy on his way out of the locker room.

"Hi," you greeted, and the boy stopped in his tracks to peer curiously at you, who clearly did not play Quidditch. "Do you know if anyone's in there?" You motioned towards the locker room behind him.

He followed your eyeline and, after a beat, turned back to you with the ghost of a smile creeping onto his features. "Looking for Potter?" he asked, his tone somewhat amused. You nodded, hiding your confusion.

"Yeah," he then added, tilting his head towards the door in front of you. "He's in there."

You gratefully smiled at him and mouthed a 'thank-you,' striding towards the locker room.

"James?" you called softly as you opened the door, all too aware that technically you weren't supposed to be in the boys' locker room, but figuring it would be empty besides James anyway. To your suspicions, you were right and there was no sight of anyone. That was, until you turned the corner and saw the boy you'd been searching for.

James was standing in front of his open locker, though he'd disregarded it the moment you'd stumbled upon him after what looked like his post-practice locker room state. That is—shirtless. Very shirtless, and practically glowing underneath the sweat from whatever Quidditch skills he'd been drilling.

"Oh, um," you began messily, eyes widening and trying their best not to so obviously take in any area beside his face, but the gleam of his bare and sun-kissed chest was certainly not making it easy. "I can come back-"

"No," James cut in, and the timbre of his voice echoing in the empty locker room had you pausing. "Stay."

You nodded, his voice soft but strong enough that you found yourself standing there, unmoving. He'd clearly not been expecting any visitors, especially not you of all people, to show up in the locker rooms. But if he knew you at all, and he did, he should've known you'd always find him even when he didn't exactly want to be found.

That fact and the unwelcome wandering of your eyes over his chest and abdomen, as if he wasn't staring straight at you watching you do it, had you feeling slightly guilty. You cursed yourself the moment you realized what you were doing, trying to salvage yourself as much as you could.

You cleared your throat. "You weren't at breakfast," you said after you remembered why you'd come to find him in the first place. Your throat felt tight, the spacious and brightly-lit room suddenly feeling cramped.

"I wasn't that hungry," James said simply, and if he felt at all off-put by his shirtlessness and your obvious fit of staring he didn't show it.

"You need to fuel your body if you're gonna be playing Quidditch all the time, James," you chided.

He shook his head at you, eyes maybe a little warm but probably slightly annoyed. "You sound like my mum."

You breathed in your laugh at the warm memories of his mother from every summer you spent with him. "I'll take that as the highest of compliments then, J."

You swore you saw his lips quirk up at the nickname at the end of your warm sentiment. Maybe he was thinking of your summers together then, too, or maybe he was still questioning why the hell you'd chased him into the locker room. A silence passed over you both for a moment. You were still standing by the door, him at his locker some feet away, wordless.

"But seriously," you continued, taking an intentional step closer to him as you spoke. "You okay?"

James's eyes lifted from where they'd been settled off somewhere in the distance, meeting your own for only a split second. "You really love asking me that question."

You tilted your head at him, knowing he was only being avoidant. "James."

His expression revealed little to nothing, and it was like he refused to meet your gaze from that point on. "I'm fine." Following through with his dismissiveness, James turned away from you then, his front to his open locker and his back, his very bare back, to you. He began putting away his things, the muscles visible to your eyes churning with each action. You ignored that on top of his aversion.

"Are you sure?" you asked. "Because I know that last night you didn't exactly seem 'fine' and all, or, I don't know, you seemed upset," you fumbled to voice. "And then I talked with Remus and he kind of mentioned that you might be upset because of me and-"

"He did?" You could see him tense as his words broke your rambling. Either you'd begun to melt his sudden cold exterior or you'd frozen it even further.

"Yeah, he did." You spoke slowly, words cautious. "Whatever it is, you can talk to me about it, I promise." You paused there, giving him an opening to respond, but he didn't. He didn't even turn your way, his back still to you as he began organizing whatever he had in his locker. Your worrying kept your mouth running. "And if I did something to upset you, then- "

"You didn't." James finally turned around, shifting your view of him from his back to his front, and you could see in his eyes that he was holding something back. He looked uncharacteristically shy, his voice coming out softly but withdrawn. "You didn't do anything to upset me."

"That's good to hear," you said, even if you didn't truly believe it. "But you're clearly upset about something. I mean, you're out playing Quidditch before half the school's even woken up."

He shrugged his bare shoulders. "I do that all the time."

"Without telling any of the boys?" you questioned. "Sirius didn't even know where you were. We were gonna use the map."

James stared at you silently for a second, as if he was considering something up in that brain of his, but he stopped the action with a slight shake of his head and another shrug. "Look, I don't know what you want from me." His tone was growing more irritated with every word you pulled from him, and it was starting to not only annoy you but hurt you.

"I just want you to tell me what you're upset about-"

"I'm not upset, alright?" He practically cut you off, shutting his locker door with a jarring echo, but the sound was less alarming than the flinch you noticed in James's face. You shifted your gaze downward. Maybe you'd been too distracted by his reserved front or his unexpected shirtlessness to notice the bandages on his wrist.

Your brows pulled. "What's wrong with your wrist?"

James's eyes darted to yours at the question, and then down at his wrapped wrist as if he'd forgotten all about it. Knowing James and his unruly way of living, you reckoned he probably had. "It's nothing." He threw the shirt he'd most likely recently taken off over his shoulder, apparently ready to ignore your prying all over again.

You stared him down disbelievingly. "James."

He paused his endless movement to offer you a better answer with a sigh. "It started bothering me a few days ago during practice." When you continued frowning down at the injury, he added, "It's no big deal. I hardly notice it."

"You just flinched." You narrowed your gaze. "Now stop being all mysterious and let me at least look."

Giving in to your doting, James took a seat beside you on the wooden locker room bench, his legs facing the opposite side of yours. The skin of his shoulder brushed against your own, which you ignored.

Ever-so-carefully, you picked up James's hand and laid his wrist in your palm. His skin was surprisingly soft, something that contrasted the material of whatever bandage he'd used to cover his injury that'd clearly been chafing angrily against his skin. You eyed the messy bandage work and suppressed any urges to scold him, figuring he was already sitting here against his will.

You glanced up at him from where you sat, only a few inches between the two of you, and looked at him for approval to do more. His eyes searched yours for a beat, maybe in question, and then he nodded.

Steadily, you used your other hand to begin unwrapping the greying gauze, focused on the sound of your own tight breathing and the steadiness of your hands working the bandages. They'd definitely needed rewrapping if not just being thrown out and replaced altogether.

The silence in the empty locker room was distracting you, or maybe it was the fact that James sat so silently next to you, watching your every move. In your peripheral, you could see the hard plain of his chest rising and falling as you worked on his wrist. You chased the view away, lowering your head more until all you could see was your hands and his.

It took another moment to fully unwrap his wrist, your perturbation only heightening each time a new inch of bruising skin was revealed. You held the uncovered limb in your hands, frowning and fighting back a gasp at how not-fine the injury seemed.

"Merlin," you whispered, taking in the redness that'd come from both the bandages and the visible swelling. Slowly, you bent his hand forward ever so slightly, and even that action had James tensing in your hands, the small inhale he took more than audible to you from next to him. "You're telling me you hardly noticed this?"

James gave another aggravating shrug. "It only got this bad this morning. Must've slept on it wrong."

"Or maybe it was from you overworking it out on the pitch just now." You gave him a look. "You're lucky it's your non-dominant hand."

You scanned over the injury for another second and then placed his wrist on your lap gingerly. You turned to get your wand out of your bag but remembered the pastries you snagged from the Great Hall for him.

"I brought you food from breakfast, for after I finish with your wrist." You nodded to your bag. "I even got a chocolate croissant. Your favorite." You felt your lips tugging into a smile. Godric, you really did sound like a mother.

"You didn't have to," James insisted delicately, though you saw his eyes soften momentarily.

"I had to pay you back somehow for all the food you sent up to my room the other day. I never got to thank you."

James shook his head. "I got your thank you note."

It took a second for you to recall the scribbling of your quill against napkin, something you'd done in a hurry in your dorm but meant every word you wrote. You felt your cheeks warm at the memory and under James's gaze that you swore you could feel dancing across your face.

You focused back down at his hand that rested on your lap, taking ahold of your wand and pointing it steadily at the discoloration around his wrist. You certainly were no Madam Pomfrey, but you'd learned some basic healing spells over the years from being the boys' honorary on-hand nurse every time they came back still achy after full moons.

Even with that knowledge, you knew not to try anything too experimental on James's sensitive wrist. Delicately, you lifted his arm again before softly muttering the most appropriate healing spell you could recall. His arm felt especially heavy in its limpness, but you could tell James was still tense. You moved the fingers that held his arm back and forth slightly, a soothing gesture as you dragged the tip of your wand over the bruises. The pointed wood grazed over red-and-purpled skin but left it void of discoloration as it moved.

Your lips parted at the sight that never failed to seem brilliant to you, no matter how many nights you spent alongside your friends in the nurse's wing as she tended to them. You didn't look up to see his expression, but you could feel James's fingers soften in your grasp, hear his breathing shallow.

You worked on his wrist with your wand for another minute before you were satisfied, moving it around slightly and humming softly at the lack of discomfort he seemed to have. For safe measure, you lifted his arm from atop your thigh again and began rebandaging it, more neatly this time. Your fingers grazed against now healthy-colored skin, his long fingers limp in your hold but seeming more alive now that the wrist they were attached to was stronger.

You closed off the bandage, tucking in what needed to be tucked and scanning over your work once more for good measure. You leaned forward slightly to make sure the bandage wasn't twisted on the side of his hand you couldn't see and felt a soft and featherlike something brush against the top of your forehead.

Taken out of the intense focus you'd had on his wrist, you looked up to find the culprit of the feeling. It'd been one of James's curls that'd brushed against the top of your head, a sensation nauseatingly familiar, but you were more concerned with the way he was looking down at you.

Looking didn't seem a proper word for it, maybe studying or staring a better fit, but all train of thought had gone off the rails when you met his eyes. They were hazel, you knew that fact better than you knew the back of your hand, but now they seemed to sink into a deeper color, something heavy behind the way he was looking at you. And maybe you were only imagining it, but you could've sworn his gaze was angled to an area near your parted lips.

You blinked in alarm as your breath caught in your throat, not knowing what to do with all the weight of his stare but feeling like moving was impossible anyway with the way he seemed to suffocate you, all without moving a muscle. You were so close to him, close enough to see the heavy rise and fall of his very bare chest and every movement in his face. His breathing was thick, and yours was getting heavier by the second. Something shuttered inside of you as your brain recalled the only other time he'd looked at you in this way, right before he kissed you over Spin the Bottle.

You tried to chase the fluttery, dizzying feeling away, but it stayed fixed in place within your stomach. Did he know how he was looking at you right now? Like he was deep in thought, but as if his mind was blank, hypnotized. Like you'd entranced him. Like he didn't mind. Like he wanted to ...

The door to the locker room slammed open, and you'd never turned your head so fast in your life. You were sure James did too, but you were too busy staring at the unfamiliar strawberry-blonde boy standing in the doorway to be sure.

"Crap, I'm so sorry Captain," rang the short boy nervously, eyes shot wide as he took in the proximity of you and James, his shirtlessness, and most likely the flush in your face. James stood up and you followed suit, noticing the distance he'd already put between the two of you. "I didn't know you were in here. I just came for my broom polish. "

James cleared his throat, curtly nodding at the boy. "It's alright, Crembley." His voice took on the assertion of a levelheaded Quidditch Captain and showed no sign of the unstableness you were feeling from beside him. You didn't know how the hell he did it.

That thought, along with seemingly hundreds of other ones, ran through your head whilst the kid James addressed as Crembley ran through his things in the locker by the door. All you could hear was the shuffling of his things and the ringing in your ears as you waited. Daring to look over, James's head was perched downward in the silence, and he didn't show any signs of discomfort besides the subtle tick of his jaw.

It felt as if an eternity had passed before the boy found what he needed, carrying a round container in his hand as he closed his locker and walked back towards the door. "See ya Captain," he smiled thinly, probably noticing the thickness in the air. He nodded to you politely as well, albeit awkwardly, before taking his exit, leaving you and James alone in the locker room once more.

The silence was deafening. You looked down at your shoes and then at James, who somehow seemed like he was standing even farther away from you than before. You took a breath in to speak before you even knew what you were going to say, but James beat you to it.

"You should go." His voice cut through the silence and echoed through the room and your head unwelcomingly, tone low and sober.

You blinked at him, brows pulling into a line. "What?"

"I mean," he continued, seeming to correct his blunt tone before you could question it. "You're gonna miss Transfiguration."

His explanation didn't have you feeling any less confused. Your forehead creased and you squinted at him and his tense, broad shoulders. "So are you. James, what-"

"I'll meet you there, okay?" he still hadn't looked at you fully, eyes pitched somewhere too low or too shifted to either side of you to be truly at you. You didn't know what was going on, the questions you'd been trying to get answers to still swirling across your mind, unanswered. You tried to force him to meet your eyes, at least give you that respect, but he wouldn't. As you stared at him and the unwavering projection of his hardened gaze, you gave up trying to shift it.

"Okay."

Your heart throbbed in your chest, tired from the work it'd been put through in the span of a single minute. You suppressed the feeling, gathering your bag and throwing it over your shoulder. You took steps towards the door and James, but paused, remembering something.

"Here." You reached into your bag, pulled out the pastries you'd brought for him concealed by a napkin, and held them out for him to take. For a second, he didn't move, and you thought he might reject your offer entirely from whatever mood he'd been consumed by and send you on your way. But he was still James, the one you'd known since forever, and he took them from your hand timidly.

"Thanks," he said, almost a whisper, and he met your eyes then for only a second. You didn't miss the flush of his cheeks that you were sure matched your own, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. His eyes were guilty and quiet and a muscle in his jaw worked as he looked down at the food in his hand. He kept his gaze on it as you pushed open the locker room door and rushed away, feet moving you as your mind stayed stuck in the locker room, replaying its scenes like they would make anything that'd just happened clearer.

taglist!! ->

@hisparentsgallerryy @msmk11 @garfieldsladybird @empath-bunny @urmykindofwoman

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everythingisromant1c · 5 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You - Chapter 6

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Maybe it was an attempt to get over him, or maybe it was just from embarrassment, but you'd decided to avoid James. The only problem was, your best friend was making that very, very difficult to do.

wc [4.6k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 5 - Chapter 7 ->

The weekend had ended without excitement, if you don't count kissing your best friend and practically getting rejected by said best friend the next day to be excitement.

As much as you willed it not to, the events of the past two days played in your mind well into Monday, perhaps being the reason why you skipped out on breakfast in the Great Hall and showed up to Defense Against the Dark Arts with hardly a minute to spare before class started.

Your professor this year, Professor Higglebottom, silly as her name was, was the adventurous type and always started class with some hands-on interaction. That's why you all crowded against the walls instead of taking a seat at one of the desks in the front of the room.

You were sandwiched between Marlene and Sirius, the latter you knew was trying to get you to respond to his whispers. You weren't much in the mood for whatever kind of conversation he was trying to spark up, especially not after the one you'd had with him last night that you most definitely did not lose sleep over.

"Alright class," your professor announced. Her bob haircut bounced lightly as she took quick circling steps before your class's waiting eyes. "Let's begin with a quick review of last week's shielding charm. Pair up with a classmate and practice, and no harmful hexes this time, yes?"

With a snicker from across the room, Higglebottom waved her wand and the desks all gracefully swept into organized rows against the far wall, leaving the center of the room open for spell practice.

Within the blink of an eye half the room had begun to shuffle around in search of a partner, and it hit you with a surge in your chest that you and James always paired up in this class. You stayed rooted in your spot against the wall for a second, looking around amongst the chaos. Sure enough, that head of curls and those eyes like honey were on the other side of the room, searching the crowd for someone—for you.

Maybe you weren't exactly thinking in that moment, but you acted before you had time to consider much of anything.

"Hey Alice!" your voice was raised to almost a shout that alarmed even you, and Alice turned to you in surprise.

"Hey," she said, and before she could get another word out you were practically running to her.

"Could we be partners?"

You figured that it might've been the desperate look in your eyes that had her nodding yes, but it didn't matter because at least you didn't have to pair up with James. Facing that awkwardness and ignoring the twinge in your chest whenever you saw him seemed impossible right then.

You walked over to the front left corner of the room with Alice, catching James in your peripheral. He was watching you, you knew he was. It only made avoiding him even more difficult in your heart.

You began practicing with Alice as Higglebottom instructed, though you put up your shielding charm with just a fraction of a second left before Alice's stunning spell would've sent you flying.

"Woah," she said, and you took a second to shake out your arm before preparing for the next round. "You alright?"

"What?" you asked, half listening. "Yeah. Just slow reflexes, I guess. Sorry." She sent another shining blue stream at you from her wand. "Protego!"

This time you blocked it properly, but it didn't leave Alice feeling satisfied.

"It's just," she began, flicking her wand again wordlessly. "Don't you usually partner up with Potter?"

You tried your best to contain any reaction, focusing on saying the spells as instructed. You shrugged. "I don't know, I wouldn't say always."

Alice laughed. "Okay, so ninety-nine out of a hundred times, then." You gave her a look that was half joking half annoyed, and she smiled with a tilt of her and a gesture that said it was your turn to aim some spells her way. You flicked your wand with a wordless spell, and she put up her shield in no time, continuing. "I was just wondering if everything was okay, is all."

"No, yeah, everything's fine." Your shoulders felt tense as you sent out another spell. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well, for one thing, he keeps looking over here." As much as you tried not to let her words affect you, the thought of them made your heart race and your forehead crinkle anxiously.

You shook your head busily, lips tight. "Don't know why he would be." That was a lie of course, and you knew it deep in your bones as you said it. You fought the urge to ask her exactly how he was looking at you as you sent another spell her way. "Rictusempra!"

Alice deflected the spell with yet another shield from her wand, and you could feel your focus slipping from you with every exchange between the two of you on the topic. "Maybe he wants to talk to you?" she reasoned, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"I'd rather not." With that, you prepared another spell.

Alice glanced at something somewhere behind you. "Well he's coming this way."

"What?"

You panicked, and your spell shot completely in the wrong direction, aiming diagonally at Higglebottom's desk instead. You cringed as your gust of wind had a stack of papers go flying, falling through the air without any grace.

Everyone in the room stopped their dueling at the commotion, and Higglebottom let out a tiny gasp from her position across the room. You stood there, stunned. But somehow, the most mortifying part of it to you was the sight of James watching it all unfold a few feet away from you, looking like he both wanted to laugh and ask you a thousand questions that you didn't know the answer to.

"Well, that's alright," rang Higglebottom, and you could've ran up and hugged her when she clapped her hands and made everyone go back to practicing spells. That included James, who wandered back over to a smug looking Sirius. She daintily pointed her wand towards the mess and it was cleaned up in a matter of seconds, though your embarrassment lingered deep in the pit of your stomach and refused to leave you.

Your professor had spent the rest of the class going over proper spell-casting stances and dueling strategies, and you'd found that the more you focused on your classes, the less your head seemed to run amuck with thoughts of a certain someone.

You'd spent the rest of rest of the day doing just that, paying attention to your professors' lessons for every class like your life depended on it, and speeding off in between each one.

By the time you made it to Potions you felt like your mind was finally calming down, though the world loved to test your patience. You had to walk straight past James on your way to your seat—the seat that was right in front of his—and he didn't give you the grace of pretending not to see you. His eyes followed you the whole way to your seat, and somehow it felt like you could still feel them lingering on the back of your head as you sat down. You sighed; if he could do you the favor of picking up on your attempt to get over him and just go along with it, your life would be a whole lot easier.

"You alright?"

You turned to see Sebastian sitting in his seat next to you, looking as dashing as ever with his tie undone from the uncharacteristically warm weather that day. The fact hadn't left you that Sebastian was apparently a top prospect for girls in your year looking to find a date.

He looked at you with concern, though his expression was still warm. He was the second person to ask you that that day.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said back, though the way he looked at you made you feel suddenly insecure. You patted at the back of your hair. "Do I not look it?"

"No, no," came Sebastian quickly, laughing slightly. "You look great. Trust me."

From the way his eyes hovered over you, you felt like both hiding from embarrassment and blushing. You were about to thank him until Slughorn stood up from his desk, tone somewhat more bubbly than usual as he spoke.

"Say, my eager students," he began, and you felt the class collectively sigh from around you. "The air does feel fitting for some friendly competition today, does it not?"

With his statement, the room seemed to perk up from their afternoon drag, though you felt a sense of dread settle into your stomach. The word "competition" said in a room full of Gryffindors and Slytherins was practically a death sentence. Slughorn didn't pay it any mind.

"Each brewing station should prepare a Wound-Cleaning Potion within the hour, and I'll determine the most well-brewed potion by the end of class. The winning group gets five points extra credit."

If the prospect of competition didn't scare you already, the fact that you were never any good at Potions definitely did the job. Sebastian turned to you with an optimistic grin on his face, something casual and confident, all while you felt the exact opposite.

"Don't be so worried," he said, like he could read from your face how you felt already. "We're gonna do great. Half the others can't even talk to each other without ... that happening."

He nodded over to where Sirius and Slytherin Quidditch Captain Marcus Craggy were already arguing, practically shoving each other as they both stood up to get ingredients.

You snorted into your hand. "Maybe you're right."

Between the two of you, you sorted out a plan of action and went to get the ingredients while Sebastian tended to warming the cauldron. If your staying-hyper-focused strategy went according to plan, you had confidence that with Sebastian's Potions skills you could actually do well.

You measured out the proper amount of the necessary ingredients, taking what you needed from the stacks of shelves aligning the classroom wall. You handed off the jar of dandelion root to a girl next to you before turning around, but that was when you turned right into a body.

You looked up. It was James—of course it was. You knew for a fact you did a horrible job at hiding your alarm, but were still in your ignore-your-feelings-and-focus-on-school mood so you didn't think twice before awkwardly avoiding looking into his eyes.

"Sorry," you said quickly. You briefly smiled at him, though you were sure you looked anything but casual.

"It's okay-" he began, his voice fading away as you rushed past him within a second.

You felt horrible.

Focus, focus, focus. When you returned back to your table and a waiting Sebastian, you did just that.

He naturally took the lead, since you didn't know the first thing about brewing a Wound-Cleaning Potion, but he was surprisingly understanding and explained each step in a way that made more sense than anything Slughorn had ever said. There weren't even any of the usual slip-ups that happen when you brew a potion yourself, though you couldn't say the same for the groups around you.

About halfway through class you peaked over to where Sirius and Marcus Craggy were working and saw the monstrosity that was their cauldron bubbling over the surface, a swampy green that most certainly was not the right color.

You heard a mousy laugh come from behind them, Peter giggling at the sight of his friend's failure. Within a second his own partner yelled his name, and with a terrified look he focused back on his own potion. It was safe to say your group was working better than any of your friends'.

In no time you were all finishing up your potions and Slughorn had begun coming around to review them, hands tucked behind his back like a true judge.

The first cauldron he'd surveyed belonged to Frank Longbottom and a red-haired Slytherin girl who you knew Alice was uneasy over. And, now that you got a good look at her, you could see she was the same girl you heard whispering about you and James's supposed broom closet snogging. So maybe the slight amusement you felt when Slughorn looked at her and Frank's cauldron and immediately grimaced wasn't completely impersonal.

He did the same to a few other groups, granting some an impressed nod until he finally reached your table. He gave Sebastian an enthusiastic and familiar smile, and nodded at you without any particular warmth, which you ignored.

The two of you stepped back and watched as Slughorn leaned over the side of the cauldron, peering it into it wordlessly. Sebastian glanced at you from the corner of his eye with a curious look and you fought a smile.

When you turned back to your potion, Slughorn's face was lit up satisfactorily. He clapped his hands together. "Splendid! Absolutely splendid."

You felt like you were hearing wrong, like words as positive as those could've never come from Slughorn in regards to you, but sure enough, he was talking directly to you. You were definitely sure you were dreaming then.

"Say, I believe we may have found our winners!"

Your jaw was hanging then, and Sebastian was beaming proudly. You were about to turn to him and celebrate, when a Gryffindor boy at a table in the corner of the room shouted out in protest.

"You didn't even look at the last three groups!"

Slughorn turned to him at first in alarm, but then his expression then morphed into a tightlipped smile you could tell was meant to be sympathetic. "I'm sorry dear boy, but I can see from here they're all the wrong color." He scanned the row of cauldrons behind you. "I can also smell them."

The room chuckled at that, and Slughorn turned back to you and Sebastian unbothered and cheerful.

"I expected nothing less from one of my star students, yes?" He shook Sebastian's hand firmly like he was an old family friend, and then, to your surprise, held out his hand to you too. You took it, feeling suspicious of how well this was going. "Very impressive work today." He smiled at you more authentically then you'd ever seen him smile at you, and you felt like bursting from happiness, though you watered it down to a prompt "Thank you."

"You two pat yourselves on the back," said Slughorn, regarding you both one last time before taking his leave.

You turned slowly to Sebastian, sporting the biggest smile you'd worn in days. The groups that weren't as upset over the loss clapped lightly from around the room, and you were so happy you could've literally jumped for joy.

"We did it!" You looked at Sebastian, and he was grinning down at you with a smile that met his eyes, looking half like he wanted to laugh at your overexcitement. You were so happy you even ran up and hugged him, not exactly thinking before you did it but it didn't matter because he hugged you back, chuckling.

Right before you went to pull away, you heard a bubbling noise coming from next to you. It grew, rumbling and groaning, and not a second more went by before the potion behind yours splattered all over.

You both stepped only slightly back before the mess reached you. You were lucky you were standing where you were, because most of the potion got on Sebastian instead. That didn't change the fact that it made an absolute mess.

"Goodness!" Slughorn shouted, and you stepped away from Sebastian right away, scanning over the mess the cauldron had made. A blue-gray goo covered the left half of his shirt, not an insane mess but still a concerning amount of slimy potion to be covered in.

You turned to the table who'd been sitting behind you, and realized with a sense of both dread and annoyance that it had been James's cauldron to explode.

You looked at him in dismay as he stood there, backed away from the table like the explosion had come completely as a surprise to him. But, judging from the way he took in Sebastian's appearance without so much as a grimace, it very well could've been just the opposite.

James's table partner, the Slytherin boy on the smaller side, looked beyond mortified. "Oh Merlin," he began, arms outstretched towards Sebastian. "We're so sorry, I don't know what happened, I-"

"Now, now," Slughorn interrupted, moving swiftly over to where the mess was. With a face that showed he was trying very hard not to react, he pulled out his wand and muttered a spell that cleaned up the mess from the desks and floor, and another one for Sebastian's shirt.

"That should take care of the mess, though I do recommend you pay Madam Pomfrey a visit, Sebastian. The possible side effects of an improperly-brewed potion are quite impossible to determine externally." He patted Sebastian on the back, who looked not angry but dazed, if anything, and turned to James and his partner. "And as for you two, pay better mind for what ingredients you're using. Next time, I won't be so kind about cleaning up for you."

They both nodded obediently, James wearing the placating face he always did when confronted by a teacher, and staring down at his feet. Was he ashamed? Hiding laughter? You couldn't tell, but certainly had suspicions, knowing his dislike of Sebastian for some unidentifiable reason.

Slughorn dismissed the class, and Sebastian gathered his things to go to what you assumed would be the nurse's office.

"Let me go with you," you said.

He turned to you in surprise, shrugging his bag over his shoulder. "Oh, don't worry about it."

"It's no problem, really." You smiled at him assuredly and he let in, waiting for you to get your things and walk with him out of the classroom. "Are you okay?" you asked once you turned the corner. "The color of that potion was definitely concerning."

He nodded. "Yeah, I'm good. Or at least, I feel okay."

"Good."

The two of you walked in silence for a moment, and you let your thoughts drift to the class you'd just finished, and how amazing and odd it felt to get a handshake from Slughorn. Soon you found a smile creeping into your cheeks.

"Are you laughing at me?"

You escaped your daydreaming, whipping your head to Sebastian who was looking at you with a disbelieving smile of his own. "What? No! Of course not," you assured him, shaking your head rapidly. "I'm just really happy our potion did so well."

"Yeah, me too."

"I mean seriously, I don't think I've ever smiled so much in a Potions class. Or that Slughorn's ever said anything that nice to me." And you meant it. Visions of nights spent practically crying over a bad potions grade flashed through your mind.

"Well," Sebastian began, eyes looking down at yours with fondness. "You deserve it."

You looked back at him, feeling like he really meant those words. A kind of odd feeling simmered in your chest, but it was warm and you invited it as you kept walking beside him.

"Hey," he began again after a beat, shifting his attention fully to you. "I've been meaning to ask you something-"

"Can we talk?"

Both of you stopped as you reached the staircase at the end of the hall and, somehow, there stood James. He was looking at you with an intention behind his eyes that flickered over you like he hadn't noticed Sebastian was with you at all.

You frowned at him, eyes glancing between both he and Sebastian in both shyness and irritation. "You know, I'm kind of in the middle of something-"

"It's an emergency." James leaned closer, eyes wide. "About the you know what."

You did not 'know what,' but James didn't seem to pick up on that. Your confusion only extended the interaction and had Sebastian stepping away.

"It's okay," he said to you with a neutral tug of his lips. "I'll talk to you later." Before you could tell him it was fine, that you wanted to hear what he had to ask you, he'd smiled and turned to climbed up the steps, leaving you alone with James.

You turned fully to face him, your irritation masking whatever nervousness you felt at finally looking him in the eyes. "What kind of 'emergency' was so important that you had to interrupt my conversation with-"

"Sebastian Vance. I know." He said his name like it was a chore, and it only had your forehead creasing even more. "There's, um, a problem with the prank."

"Really?" you deadpanned, staring at him blankly. "That was the emergency that couldn't wait?"

"You haven't let me finish," argued James defensively.

"Okay," you added, tone impatient as you motioned for him to continue.

"Wormtail lost the list of passcodes to the Slytherin common room." He ended his sentence as if there was more that he wanted to say, rubbing at the back of his neck.

"And?"

"And ... we were wondering if you could find a way to get them from Vance."

"What?!" you shouted, lowering your voice when you realized how loud you were being. "No, have you gone mad?"

"Oh, come on," James said, tone much too lax for your liking.

"You really expect me to trick my friend into letting us prank him?"

James let out a huff that sounded like a scoff, raising his brows at you. "Oh really? He's your friend now?"

"Yeah, he is." You crossed your arms, staring at him disbelievingly. "Is there a problem?"

"No, no problem." James shoved his hands in his trouser pockets, peering somewhere down below and not at you. "Just didn't know you guys were so close, is all."

Something about the way he spoke was infuriating you, tone casual but clearly masking judgement, as if he had any kind of control over who you could and couldn't speak to.

You scoffed. "Why are you being so weird about this?"

"I'm not."

"Really?" you deadpanned. "You interrupted my conversation with him when I was trying to walk him to the nurse after your potion exploded all over him, right after we won-"

"You don't really think I did that on purpose, do you?"

"I don't know!" you shouted. "With your house rivalry, and the way you lot are so obsessed with pranking people-"

"'You lot'?"

You stopped, realizing how much this was escalating when you really didn't want it to be. You pressed a hand to your forehead. "Sorry that's... that's not fair." You shook your head, as if doing that would rid you of the mess that was your mind right then. You hated arguing with James. "I'm just annoyed right now, is all."

"Yeah," James said with a nod, voice quieted. "Look," he breathed. "I'm sorry I interrupted you. And I really didn't mean for my potion to go exploding all over the place. I don't know what happened. I guess I was just ... distracted, or something, when we were brewing it. I'm sorry."

You let your eyes scan over his face, noting that he truly did look sorry. Something churned in your gut, something that you filed away as uninportant in that moment. "It's alright," you sighed. "Although, it's not really me you should be apologizing to."

It took him a second before he caught what you were referring to, him realizing with a look to the side and a half-laugh. "Yeah right."

"James." You gave him a warning look, and he raised his hands in surrender.

"Alright. I'll apologize to him."

You uncrossed your arms, feeling a bit better. "Thank you."

He tipped his head in acknowledgment, and you stood there for a moment debating if there was anything more to be said, knowing in the back of your mind that there certainly was, but you took a step up the stairs anyway.

"Wait." James took a light hold on your wrist that seemed to burn right through the skin, the contact making you feel unstable on the steps. "That's ... that's not all I wanted to talk to you about."

You stilled, glancing over his unsure expression. "Oh, okay." You waited for him to say something, but he stayed silent, out of character for him. He didn't meet your eyes as he thought, throat bobbing. "James?"

"Are we okay?"

He looked up and into your eyes then, the motion striking you as you were more level with him now from your stance on the step.

You felt your heart rate pick up. "What?"

He drew his hand away finally to run it uneasily through his curls. "I just feel like you're ..." He trailed off, voice going soft.

"Like I'm what?"Slightly heartbroken? Avoiding you? You knew exactly what he meant, of course, and it was eating away at you to lie straight to him.

"It's nothing." He waved a hand, though you could sense his seriousness in the tenseness of his stance and the darting of his eyes. "I just wanna make sure everything's alright between us."

You nodded because you felt the same way, though you knew the answer. "Yeah, I get that."

He looked expectantly at you, eyes intent but not prying. "So, is it?"

A beat went by before you could answer, your throat going dry with the effort of your lie. "Yeah," you assured him. "Of course."

He seemed to visibly relax, and the way his features softened made your shoulders sink. "Good. Great."

Were you a bad person for this? Maybe. Probably. But avoiding him had felt like best coarse of action and the only way to get by, at least for the time being. You knew, or hoped, that eventually things would go back to normal. Or rather, the 'normal' that existed before you ever had feelings for James, if that even really existed.

He offered you a smile of his pink lips that eased your thoughts even if only for a moment. Then, he leaned in and hugged you, and you felt like melting for too many reasons. You were at a height that let one of his curls brush against your cheek just like it did the night you kissed him—ignore, ignore, ignore—only, you weren't sure how much longer you could keep doing that.

If you weren't going to avoid James all together anymore, than you'd have to just avoid certain situations; situations like this, where you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against your own, something dizzying yet comforting in a way that made you want to hide in your dorm.

You pulled away, reminding yourself that hugging him was the last thing you should be doing, and turned towards the steps again. "Let's go find the guys, figure out all this prank business."

"Good idea," James said, who followed you up the stairs without missing a beat. You hadn't reached the top step before he froze, ending up a few steps behind you.

"Crap," he cursed.

You frowned down at him. "What's the matter?"

"I just remembered that I booked the Quidditch pitch for this time."

Your jaw dropped for a second, lips curling up at the stupefied look on his face. You waved your hand towards the top of the steps. "Well then, go! Hurry!"

James's face set in with a hilariously determined expression and he set off up the steps in a jumble of robes mixed with his bag hanging limply off his shoulder. He passed you with ease, zooming off down the hallway.

"See you!" he called. He turned over his shoulder with a grin before disappearing around the corner, and your heart hurt at how easily laughter came to you around him. Because he's your best friend.

You reminded yourself of that fact with a small but stern nod, probably looking like you'd lost your mind standing alone in that hallway. It didn't matter, because you were going to keep those thoughts out of your mind from then on, and that was the end of that. Or, at least that was what you told yourself all the way back to the common room.

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everythingisromant1c · 5 months ago

Text

It's Always Been You - Chapter 7

james potter x fem!reader

summary - Now that things were seemingly going back to normal with James, the time had come for the marauders' next prank. But that doesn't mean you weren't in for some surprises of your own.

wc [5.0k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 6 - Chapter 8 ->

Classes for the next day went remotely better, considering the fact that no more potions had exploded and you'd given up on trying to avoid James. It seemed like it was physically impossible to do. You supposed that made sense, since you'd had him in your life for as long as you were old enough to form proper sentences. It was hard to imagine your life without him, no matter how much it may hurt to be around him.

You were forcing yourself to ignore that feeling now and focus on this impossible prank you were trying to pull off. You and the rest of the Marauders were stationed out in one of the hidden passageways within Hogwarts' walls, one that led you right in front of the Slytherin common room.

You lit the dark passage with your wand, the others having lugged the shampoo bottles you'd filled with red hair dye in a makeshift sack within the invisibility cloak, much to your displeasure.

"Remind me why we can't just accio all the shampoo bottles to us and get the hell out of here?" Sirius dropped the invisibility cloak and the bottles with a cringe-worthy slam to the floor, a sound that echoed through the dark passageway.

"Of course, Sirius," chimed Remus, smacking a sarcastic hand to his head. "Why hadn't we thought of that before? Let's just accio every single bottle at the same time and-"

"Okay, I get it," Sirius grumbled, rubbing at the shoulder that'd been carrying the bottles. "Someone's cranky."

James rolled his eyes at him. "No arguing with Moony, it's almost that time of the month."

"I wasn't arguing, only asking a reasonable question."

"Enough talking you guys," you butted in. "If we want this prank to work we need to start as soon as possible, alright?" You took their silence for compliance. "We remember the plan, yes?" From what you could see in the darkness, the four of them gave you a nod, albeit unsurely. "Okay, good."

You peeked around the corner towards the Slytherin common room and watched as the door swung open, a first-year girl walking through the doorway. With urgent eyes, you gestured for Peter to carry out his part of the plan. He didn't budge.

"Peter," you whispered, nudging him in the arm.

He turned to you cluelessly. "Hmm?"

You held back a groan, watching as the heavy door shut behind the first-year, your opportunity disappearing. "Okay, so we don't know the plan then?"

Peter looked at you guiltily. "Sorry, I spaced out when you went over it the first time."

"It's okay Pete," chimed Sirius. "I did too."

It took everything in you to stay quiet and not scold the two of them. You were already nervous enough. "I'm gonna go over it one more time, so everyone listen this time." You heaved a breath in. "First we need to make sure we can get the common room door open. Pete, you're going to wait until a Slytherin opens the door, and then run out in your animagus form and nudge that stone on the ground over there into the doorway. Got it?"

You turned to Peter, who was listening this time rapt with attention. He nodded.

"Good. Then, all we need you to do is make sure the Slytherins' bathroom doors are open, and that way James can hold the main door open so Remus can summon the bottles, about a dozen at a time."

"What?" Peter's eyes were wide and shifting around unsurely. "I have to go into the dorms? No way."

"It'll only be for a quick moment, Pete," you said, trying to comfort him.

"Yeah," encouraged Remus. "And you'll be in your animagus form, so nobody will even notice you. You don't even have to go inside the bathrooms, just make sure they're opened a crack. You'll be in and out."

You all stared at Peter expectantly, watching as he seemed to mull over the plan in his head. "I don't know."

"What's the worst that can happen?" sang Sirius. "If anything, they notice a rat in the dorms and go yelling. But this school has had rats before, so."

James stared at Sirius with widened eyes. "Don't give him any ideas, Pads." He put a hand on Peter's shoulder. "It'll go great. If anybody can do this, Pete, it's you."

James's determined words mixed with the sincerity in his eyes seemed to work, something you figured came from all his practice giving pep talks as Quidditch Captain. It took him a moment, but Peter eventually nodded, though he still didn't seem perfectly convinced.

You you looked at him meaningfully. "We won't let anything happen to you Peter, promise." That seemed to help, and you finished explaining the rest of the plan to your friends hurriedly.

You stared at the four of them once you finished. "Is everyone good with the plan now?" You rolled your eyes as Sirius raised his hand.

"All I'm saying is, everything would been a whole lot easier if we just drank Polyjuice Potion and turned ourselves into Slytherins like I said."

Remus sighed. "I already told you that Polyjuice Potion takes at least a month to brew."

"Yeah," you countered. "And besides, did you want to morph into Marcus Craggy, or were you planning on making one of us do it?"

"Oh please," Sirius laughed like you were the crazy one. "Don't be silly. Everyone knows I would've turned into a girl. That way I could-"

You held up a hand, cringing. "Don't finish that sentence, please."

Another ten or so minutes went by, though the way some of the others were acting would've had you believe it'd been close to ten hours.

"Remind me again how much longer we're going to have to sit here for?" Maybe it was the stress you'd been feeling for the past couple of days, but Sirius's sass had never been as irritating to you as it was then.

You sighed. "We could've been halfway done already if you'd all listened to the plan the first five times I said it."

"Well, we wouldn't need the plan if you'd just gotten the passwords to the Slytherin common room from Vance like we asked you to."

You reeled at the aggravating topic that he and James seemed to love to bring up. "Are you kidding me?"

"No, I'm serious."

You squinted your eyes at him and whatever joke he was trying to make in a moment you did find funny whatsoever. "How would I have even gone about asking for a thing like that anyway? It's completely ridiculous."

Sirius barked out a laugh much too loud for the setting you were in. "Oh please. The bloke obviously likes you. All you would've had to do is bat your eyelashes and he would've handed it right over."

You squinted at him annoyedly in the dark lighting. "What the hell are you talking about?"

To your surprise, James groaned, leaning back against the wall. "Enough Sebastian talk, please." His tone was grim and tight, contrasting Sirius's overly loud drawl.

"Come on Prongs, just because you're jealous that-"

"Shh, look."

You all stopped arguing at Remus's call, turning to peak back towards the hall where a Slytherin boy was entering. You didn't have any time to think over whatever Sirius had begun to say, your mind settling itself on putting the plan you'd spent so much effort trying to formulate into action.

"Pete," you whispered. "That's your cue."

Ignoring the fact that he looked like he was going to be sick, you watched as Peter took a shaky step away from the group and, before your eyes, morphed into a measly rat at your feet. The sight was never something you could get used to.

Just as you'd told him to, Peter scurried across the hallway behind the Slytherin boy and, right as the door to the common room was about to close, rolled the stone you'd placed on the ground into the doorway. When it shut behind the boy, you could see the gap in the doorway that told you your plan was a go.

"Alright Wormtail!" Sirius whispered from across the hall, and you all watched silently as the little rat looked back toward the four of you before scampering into the Slytherins' common room.

"Bless the lad," you heard Sirius say from behind you, sounding overly sentimental.

"Let's hope he won't need any blessings if everything goes according to plan." You let out a breath. "Okay, next step. We need to see where the prefects are on their rounds. Who has the map?"

You looked between the three boys, watching as they all stared back at you with blank eyes. Your mouth hung in disbelief. "Don't tell me we forgot the map again." At that point, it was getting harder and harder to keep your voice to a secretive whisper.

"Relax," said James, voice hushed. "Padfoot has it."

Sirius scoffed, turning towards the brunette. "Prongs, I think I would know if I had it-"

"Turn around."

Sirius frowned. "What?"

James stared back at him with a confident set in his eyes. "Just turn around."

"Really?" Sirius fawned with a smirk. "In front of all these people?"

James shook his head, though you knew he could never resist a dirty joke. He hid his boyish grin and cleared his throat, gesturing to Sirius curtly. "Pads, c'mon."

At that, Sirius turned around with his back facing you, and lo and behold, you could see the corners of the map peaking up helplessly from the back of his pants.

You put an exasperated hand up to your forehead, features twisting painstakingly. "Why the bloody hell is it in your pants, Sirius?"

Sirius looked back over his shoulder towards the map, face screwed up in confusion. "I honestly don't remember putting it there."

You stared at him for a moment in disbelief. "Well, can you take it out please so we can finish the prank?"

"Of course, m'lady." He flashed you a grin you absolutely did not like the look of. "You sure you don't wanna do it yourself?" James elbowed Sirius in the side, his smile swapping itself out for a roll of his eyes. "Alright, alright."

The three of you looked on as he contorted his body to reach for the map, his struggle not seeming anything but overdramatic to you as you waited impatiently.

"C'mon Pads," chided James as he went to reach for the map despite its location.

"No, almost got it." The site of him losing a match against his own pants threatened to make you laugh even with how on edge you were, though you dropped your smile when he finally pulled the map free, only to drop it. You watched with horror as it slid onto the ground, out into the middle of the hallway.

"Great." You sighed at the site of the folded paper sitting unguarded out in the open and the fact that you had no idea where the prefects were on their rounds.

"Don't worry," cooed Sirius. "I'll get it." He took a confident stride forward, but you put a hand out just as fast.

"No," you warned, not having faith in his stealthiness after what you just witnessed. "Just- just stay where you are. I'll get it."

With that, you checked that the coast was clear on both sides before stepping out of the hidden passageway and into the open corridor, ignoring the irritated look you knew Sirius was giving the others at your orders.

With your heart beating fast in your chest and a glance at the slightly ajar Slytherin common room door, you bent over swiftly and picked up the map. Once it was secured in your hands you could already feel your senses returning to normal, though that feeling left as soon as it came.

You stood back up and were face to face with a body in Slytherin robes, your reflexes hiding the map behind your back right away.

"Sebastian!" you put on a cheesy smile in greeting before you could even think straight, though maybe it was because seeing the familiar face gave you some relief.

"Hey," he greeted back, and then you watched him process the fact that you were in the dungeons all alone. "What're you doing down here?"

You spoke before you even thought about what to say. "I was, uhm, seeing Slughorn for some extra help. Felt extra motivated after yesterday." Nice one. How easily the lie came to you concerned you.

"That's great." Sebastian's voice was warm, though there was a tug between his brow as he glanced over your nervous figure. "Are you alright?" his frown deepened. "Did Slughorn say something?"

It took you a second before remembering what he was referring to. Your lie, right.

"What? Oh, no, he didn't say anything bad. I'm great, really." You nodded at him and watched his features lighten up again, and then you felt bad because of how much he seemed to really care, and about the fact that you were lying straight to his face. You'd been doing more lying than you would've liked as of late.

Right when you were about to say something else, maybe wish him goodbye, you heard a small clang come from the knight armor to your right, and you mentally cursed because it came right from where you knew the boys were hiding.

Crap, you thought as you remembered they were listening to everything. You'd almost forgotten. You spared a glance over to where you knew they were hiding out, and luckily couldn't see anything. Hopefully, that meant Sebastian couldn't either as he surveyed the source of the noise.

You turned back to him, offering a smile you hoped looked as genuine as you meant it to as you freaked out internally. "Well, it was nice seeing you, Sebastian," you said through tight lips. "Night."

He looked back at you with the air of confusion at your rushed tone but didn't question you. "Yeah, goodnight." He nodded back and you, trying not to look suspicious, walked past him as if you wouldn't turn around in a second once he left.

"Actually," he called, and you turned right back around fast enough to give you whiplash, trying to keep the map hidden behind your back. "I've been meaning to ask you something. I wanted to yesterday, actually, before we got interrupted."

"Yeah," you rushed in, cringing at the memory and mentally cursing James. "So sorry about that. James feels sorry too, about the whole potions thing, in case he hasn't apologized already." You said the last bit with emphasis because you knew he hadn't, even after all your chiding.

"It's alright, Madam Pomfrey didn't even have to do anything. And, I hope you fixed your emergency, by the way." He was referencing the 'emergency' that James had interrupted you over, one that made you fight shaking your head at the memory.

You only smiled. "Yeah, we did, thanks."

"Great," said Sebastian, and he put his hands in his pockets, looking visibly tense. Then he took one hand out to rub it over the back of his neck, not saying anything for a moment as you both stood in the hallway.

"Sebastian?" you called, and that seemed to bring him back to life.

"Right, sorry." He exhaled, looking at you meaningfully. "I guess what I've been meaning to ask was, would you want to go to the Hogsmeade trip this weekend? With me?"

You paused your thoughts, stilling at his words. Whatever you'd expected him to say before, it was certainly not that.

You didn't know what to say right away, or how to react. He was waiting for you to say something, and you definitely wanted to, but you just didn't know what. Something warm did bloom in your stomach though, and the shadows of a smile grew on your face because someone was asking you on a date. Sebastian Vance was asking you on a date.

"So?" Sebastian asked softly and you turned your attention back to him. You didn't know how long you'd left him standing there as you became lost in your thoughts, but looking at his hopeful eyes and friendly smile, you felt like the answer you came up with was plain as day.

"Yes."

"Yes?" he asked, and maybe you hadn't spoken loud enough, or maybe he was in disbelief, but you could see a smile breaking out on his face and it felt almost contagious.

"Yes," you repeated through a smile of your own. "I'd love to go on a date with you, Sebastian." Your eyes widened. "It is a date, right?"

He laughed, soft and quiet in the empty hallway. "Yeah, it's a date. That is, if you're alright with that."

You chuckled shyly, feeling unfamiliar in your own skin. Was this really happening? "I'm alright with that."

"Great." Sebastian clapped his hands together low in front of him, chest rising and falling steadily as if some great weight had been lifted from him. He looked almost radiant—he was a good-looking boy, might you add. "You know, I wasn't exactly sure you'd say yes with Potter and all."

You paused, smile swapping out for a confused frown. "What?"

Sebastian looked at you like then like he'd hit a nerve and was suddenly cautious. He put his hands in his pockets again, shrugging it away. "It's nothing, never mind."

You tried to make your face more casual and less alarmed. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Sebastian seemed to pause for a second in thought like he was weighing his options, before letting in. "It's just that, I don't know, I thought you and Potter were kind of an item. At least at one point. A lot of people do." His words seemed to flow out endlessly and you couldn't believe you were hearing them right. "And you know, with the rumors about you guys, er, in the broom closet and all, I wasn't sure-"

"On my God no," you cut in quickly, feeling both mortified with flames at your cheeks and angry at whoever started them. "Those were just rumors. Godric, I don't even know how they started. James and I are friends. Just friends."

Even if Marlene and Lily had always poked fun at you about the topic, you'd never actually thought about what others thought of you and James. Could they see your crush on him during all these years too? The fact that Sebastian had assumed you might be together made you feel ... you didn't know how it made you feel.

But none of that mattered now. What you said was true: you and James were just friends. You wouldn't let the possibility of anything else interfere with your love life, or your lack of one, rather. At least not anymore. You thought about what Sirius had said to you the other night and hated him slightly less for it.

"Well that's good to know," said Sebastian contently, taking you out of your spiraling thoughts. "So, I'll see you then?"

You were about to say "yes," and finally wish him a goodnight until a high-pitched and truly ear-cover-worthy scream sounded from the Slytherin common room. Not more than a second sooner did you watch as a rat, not just any rat—Peter—scurried out of the small crack in the doorway and down the hallway.

You'd momentarily forgotten where you were and exactly what you'd been in the middle of doing before Sebastian had stopped you, and the site of Peter was a blaring reminder. You thanked Merlin that Sebastian had his back to the door because somehow he hadn't noticed Peter running panicked right past his feet.

He turned to you in confusion and some horror. "What the hell was that about?" he looked between you and the common room door, laughing, and you laughed too, albeit nervously to mask your horror.

"No idea."

Thanks to the commotion that the rat spotting had caused in the Slytherin dorms, your carefully planned prank had, for lack of a better word, gone to shit.

Peter had returned to the boys' dorm early after the chaos of his being discovered and hadn't come back. None of you blamed him very much, though. Especially not after Filch's cat Mrs. Norris made an unexpected appearance on the Marauder's map, and you all watched anxiously as she chased him all the way back to the dorms.

"'Was bloody horrifying," shuttered Peter as he took a seat on his bed. You'd all headed back to the dorms once you realized there was no way you'd be able to finish the prank after that.

"We're so sorry Pete." You sat down on the bed next to him. "I really didn't think they'd notice you. They usually don't."

"Yeah," added Remus. "And I don't know how we missed Mrs. Norris on the map. It's our bad, really."

"Some first-year girl threw a book at me. Nearly missed my head!" Peter rubbed at the back of his skull as if he could still feel the almost-impact.

Sirius walked over, patting him on the head. "We'll get our revenge soon, Wormy. Don't you worry."

You stared up at him wryly. "We will not be 'getting revenge' on an eleven-year-old, Sirius."

"Of course not," he rang, patting you on the head too, which you batted away. "I only meant with the hair dye, is all." You ignored the wink you saw him give Peter as he went to sit on his own bed.

You watched as James walked into the dorm room last, sitting on his bed next to Peter's wordlessly. You all had a defeated air to you because of the failed prank, though James looked the worst.

"C'mon guys," you urged. "It could've gone a lot worse."

Peter shook his head from next to you. "Could it have? I almost got eaten by a cat."

"Yeah," Sirius said, tone sour. "Excuse us for being so down about that disaster of a prank. Not all of us scored a date from it, you know."

You looked down at your lap with a scoff. "I knew you wouldn't let that go."

"Did you really expect us to? I mean, really? That Slytherin bloke?"

"Oh my God." You shook your head. "I am done listening to you all groan about your house rivalry. Him being a Slytherin has nothing to do with whether or not I should date him."

Sirius looked squinted over at you, looking like he had a thousand responses on the tip of his tongue, but then he shrugged. "Okay, fine. But house aside, Vance is a total player."

You scoffed again in annoyance. "He is not." You traced back all memories of the boy in your mind and could think of maybe two other girls that he's dated. You rolled your eyes. "And I find it pretty ironic that you of all people are calling someone a player, Sirius."

He laughed, obviously finding the conversation much more amusing than you were. "Do you even like him?"

You were getting more worked up than you would've liked, confused as to why Sirius was challenging this so much when he was just lecturing you about never going on dates. "What is there not to like?" you retorted. "He's nice, smart, he's a great Potions partner-"

"But do you like him?" Sirius cut you off with a seriousness in his tone, looking at you challengingly. A silence filled the room for a moment, the others all sprawled around it as an audience to the argument you wanted nothing to do with.

You stared back at him, considering things in your head for a moment before answering. "Yes, I do." You put a hand on your hip. "Are you happy?"

Sirius didn't respond to your frustrated question, shifting his gaze to something behind you. "Prongs, what do you think about all of this?"

You frowned at the unexpected change of focus, following Sirius's eye-line over to James, who sat on his bed, hunched forward with his elbows to his knees. He looked pensive, maybe still defeated from the prank, but something unidentifiable simmered behind his gaze, seeming to harden it. You didn't know what it was and you didn't know what Sirius was trying to do by involving him either.

He was silent for long enough that you were beginning to think he hadn't heard Sirius, until he shrugged. "I just can't believe you're missing our first Hogsmeade trip of the year."

If there was anything you were expecting James to say, it wasn't that. You ran a hand through your hair. "I guess I hadn't really thought about that." You turned to James thoughtfully. "It isn't like I'll be gone the whole day. And there will be other Hogsmeade trips for us to all go to, right?"

"We always spend the first one together, though," James said, tone heavy.

"He's right," Peter agreed. "It's practically a tradition."

You sat back down on the bed, feeling tired. "What do you guys want me to do? Tell him I can't go out with him?"

"Of course not," Remus chimed. "We're happy for you. They're just saying they're gonna miss you being there on Saturday, is all." He stared at the others expectantly. "Right guys?"

It took a second, but they all nodded, some apologies muttered, and you'd never been so thankful for Remus.

"Thank you," you said sincerely. "That means a lot." You sat in thought for a moment, before an idea sprang into your mind. "Why don't we all go get butterbeers from the kitchen like we always do after a prank?"

"After a successful prank," Sirius corrected.

"Yeah, I don't know if I'm in the mood to celebrate." Peter looked like he was reliving the horrors of the rat fiasco in his head again.

"It would cheer you up though, wouldn't it?" You nudged Peter's side before standing up. "Come on." You pulled on his arm until he was standing up lazily, though you knew he was fighting a smile. "Let's go. The house elves would love it if we paid them a visit." You motioned for them all to follow as you walked towards the door, Sirius and Remus doing just that, but James stayed put. "James?" you called. "You coming?"

He looked up at you from where he sat, face seeming drained of any excitement at the prospect of his favorite drink, eyes avoiding yours. "I think I'll just stay back."

Your brows furrowed in concern at his dejected voice and unconvincing flash of a smile, and you took a step closer to him. "Are you sure? You never turn down a butterbeer."

His face had gone stonelike and revealed little to nothing, but you knew something was off. "Just don't feel up to it. You guys go."

You didn't budge right away, looking at your friend more closely in an attempt to figure out what was wrong, but Remus stepped in front of you.

"You guys head to the kitchens. James and I will catch up, just give us a minute."

You stood there, looking back and forth between Remus and James unsurely like there was some unspoken secret they both shared. Remus met your eyes, nodding at you assuredly, and you relented, glancing back at a confused James before leaving the dorm room. Sirius and Peter followed behind you.

"What do you think that's all about?" Peter asked as the three of you walked through the common room to the portrait exit.

"It's James," Sirius responded naturally. "It's probably either about Quidditch or Evans."

By the time the three of you all made your way down to the kitchens and ordered up five butterbeers, Remus had followed through on his promise and had James following him into the kitchen, though he looked a tad off. Not his energetic James self, his head was slightly hung forward with his hands in his pockets.

Remus took the spot next to Sirius at the table you sat at, and James took the spot next to you. You peeked over at him concernedly, but he didn't look up from wherever he was staring off.

"Alright," Sirius announced. "Now that we're all here," he picked up his butterbeer, "let's make a toast, shall we?"

"To what exactly?" asked Peter. "Not like we can toast to a good prank."

"I know," you said as you raised your glass. "To a great school year and successful future pranks."

"Yes," agreed Sirius. "And to many more hot Hogsmeade dates."

Laughter bubbled from Peter and Remus with your lips parting in alarm, though you were holding back laughter too. "Sirius," you chided, and he shrugged.

"Only being supportive."

With a roll of your eyes, your glass collided with three others, one glass missing from the toast.

"James?" you called. His eyes snapped up like he hadn't even noticed the conversation going on. You turned to him with a lowered voice that revealed your worry. "Is everything okay?"

He cleared his throat slightly, eyes not meeting yours, though you could've sworn he shared a look with Remus. "Yeah, sorry." He hurriedly raised his glass too. "Cheers," he added, and took a sip of his butterbeer that had his head tipping back.

The others seemed to overlook James's odd mood and conversation flowered regularly for the rest of the night, though you noticed time and time again James's offness in the way he talked less, or the times he'd space out or seem distant.

After some time the five of you headed back to the common room. Even during the walk back James was a few feet ahead of the group, veering off into his dorm room before you could even say goodnight. You stood there in uncomfortable thought, staring at the staircase he'd just climbed before Remus came to stand by your side.

"You alright?" he asked, and you could see from your peripheral the way he peered at you in curiosity.

"What happened back there with James?" You shifted to face him, watching as he waved an arm casually.

"Nothing, really." You gaped at him disbelievingly at his obvious avoidance of your question. "He'll be alright," he added under your scrutiny. "He's just having an off night."

"What'd you say to him to get him to come with us to the kitchens?"

"You just have all the questions lined up, don't you?"

You glared at him and his sudden annoying sense of humor. "Remus."

"Alright, alright," he chuckled, putting his hands in his pockets. "I just told him to lighten up," he shrugged. "Be happy for you, is all."

Your mind faltered, eyes widening. "You think he's upset about me?"

Instead of answering your question, Remus simply tipped his head down, a one-sided smile tugging at his lips.

"What?" You pried, feeling like there was some big joke you'd been left out on. Remus looked back up at you, shaking his head, but you were feeling more irritated than playful. "No seriously, what?"

With a knowing glint in his eye, Remus bowed his head before taking a step back towards the steps. "Night."

It took you a second to realize he was going off to bed and ignoring your question, leaving you clueless in the common room.

"Remus Lupin!"

Your shouts only met his back as he disappeared up the steps. You huffed. When Remus really wanted to, he had it in him to be even more aggravating than Sirius in a bad mood.

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bmyva1entine · 18 days ago

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everythingisromant1c · 5 months ago

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It's Always Been You - Chapter 4

james potter x fem!reader

summary - With rumors flying all around the school, it seems like the very last thing you need is any more drama. Nevertheless, it's come time for the annual party in the Gryffindor common room, and something in your gut is telling you that the drama isn't going to die down just yet.

wc [5.0k]

all chapters | <- Chapter 3 - Chapter 5 ->

You didn't know why you'd let Marlene and Lily talk you into thinking your outfit was a good idea. It had felt like it'd be something fun and new while you were coddled in the comfort of your dorm, but now that you were in the crowded Gryffindor common room in the middle of a party, you reckoned you'd give it twenty more minutes before you went back upstairs to change.

The fabric of your top hugged your body in a way you didn't think you'd ever get used to, and the stoop of the neckline only had you more on edge. You toyed with the necklace you were wearing, idling against the steps on the far side of the bustling room.

"Stop overthinking your outfit and go party."

Marlene strolled in from next to you wearing a tired smirk, swirling around a cup of something you couldn't see but could certainly smell.

Your lips parted in surprise. "How did you-"

"Your face gives away how you're feeling like reading a book." She took a sip of her drink, wincing. "Surprised Potter hasn't found out you're in lo-"

With widened eyes you swatted her in the arm, coming close to knocking over her beloved drink. She reeled back. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"Not so loud." You scolded in a hushed tone, peeking around at the dozens of people hovering around the both of you in the tight space of the common room. "And I'm not in love with him, Marlene." You crossed your arms in front of your chest, rubbing at the sides of them. "I'm over him."

"First of all, it's a party. No one can hear us." You looked past Marlene to all the dancing people around you, rowdy and probably not listening, and sighed. She was probably right, but that didn't change the fact that her voicing your feeling for James allowed made your mind flare in alarm, especially after all the rumors going around. "You know I'm right," she deadpanned. "Second of all, no you're not."

You stared at her confusedly, until she mouthed "over James."

Your lips parted in offense. "Yes I am." She titled her head at you like she pitied you and it made you want to shake her senseless until she believed you. "I've been moving on steadily," you chided again, nodding like you were declaring it to yourself too. "I mean it."

And you did. At least you were trying to mean it. That didn't mean it wasn't hard.

You'd been wandering through the crowd in search of nothing in particular, maybe a drink, when you heard a laugh—James's laugh. He'd always had the kind of laugh that you always recognize, even across a crowded room. It was filled with a bubbling homeliness that you always found yourself missing, and right now, it had you finally making your way towards him through the crowd. You felt a surge of nervousness settle underneath your skin when you saw him.

You came to stand behind him, finding him with Remus, and tapped him on his shoulder. He turned curiously behind him, noticing it was you who had tapped him as his face greeted yours with a smile.

You opened your mouth to say hello, but a dancing someone bumped into you from behind, sending you stumbling forward. James caught you, hands steadily holding your waist as your hands braced against his chest.

You knew you'd flushed right away, feeling the warmth on your cheeks as soon as you felt James's firm chest beneath your fingers. You didn't think he noticed though, because he was too busy trying to scope out whoever had bumped into you.

"Hey," he called sternly to the boy now to your right, tone harboring indignation. You shook your head, gingerly squeezing James's arm to get his attention. You ignored the obvious muscles of his bicep in your hand.

"Don't worry about it," you told James lowly. "It was probably an accident."

He turned back to you, hands still holding onto your waist steadyingly. "He pushed you."

You smiled in affection at his reaction. "It's a party. And I'm fine, promise."

Letting out a breath through his nose, James relented, turning to give you his full attention. A second went by before he said anything, and you hated how focused you were on the feelings of his hands still on your waist, meeting the bare skin revealed by the top you were wearing.

"Wow," he whispered. He said something else that you couldn't hear, and you frowned.

"What?" you asked, and right away James stooped his head downwards so that his lips rested right by your ear.

"I said," he began softly, hand still braced on your torso as your entire body lit aflame. "You look beautiful."

You were momentarily stunned, basking in the way just the three words had you speechless in his arms. You looked down at your shoes, James's eyes trained on you with interest.

"James," you whispered reluctantly as he complimented you, and he let a lopsided grin plaster over his lips. He stooped down further and met your lowered eyes with a glimmer in his own, not letting you escape him.

"I mean it," he insisted softly.

He stood back up fully, taking a step back, and you could finally think straight. But then you took in his own appearance and your mind was hazing over again, because all you could think about was how good he looked.

His chocolatey curls were perfectly messy but shining, and the formfitting t-shirt he was wearing paired with his jeans made him look like he came straight out of a catalog, though you were sure he hadn't given more than a second thought to the outfit. James always looked effortlessly handsome in that way.

Before you could compliment him back, you heard a voice call James's name. He turned towards it, a familiar boy greeting him with a rugged hug. When they pulled apart, he began asking him something about Quidditch.

As Captain, James had been determined to assemble a winning team that year, something he'd mentioned in his letters to you over the summer. The two began talking more avidly, and you took that as your time to leave and go find the others. James noticed right away and turned to you, lightly holding your elbow.

"Where are you off to, Love?"

Love. You shook the word away. "I'm just gonna go find the guys."

James nodded but looked troubled, glancing between the boy he was talking to and you. You put your hand on his, nodding reassuringly. "It's alright," you promised. "I'll meet you in a bit?"

He thought for a second before nodding. You walked off, soon hearing him strike up more conversation with the boy from behind you, their voices raised over the loud music. You went to go find something to drink, to chase away whatever you'd just felt talking to James.

A few more hours into the night had people's brains turning fuzzier, movements turning loser, and laughter getting louder. You'd went back up to your dorm room for a minute to use the bathroom, the line in the common room much too long, and by the time you came back down the stairs, a small crowd had gathered around the couch and fireplace in a circle.

You took in the scene with interest as you neared it, seeing all your friends compiled in the group too. Half sat lazily on the couch and half on the floor with their backs to the lowly simmering fire. Then you noticed the bottle sitting in the center of the circle, noticing the round of Spin the Bottle going on with dreadful recognition.

Seeing you, Marlene immediately called you over and you shook your head right away.

"Absolutely not," you said before she could even get the words out to ask you to join.

She scoffed, pouting. "Come on, even Lily's playing."

From beside her, the ginger reeled at her tone offensively.

"Oh please," argued Marlene before turning back to you. She yanked your arm excitedly until you were sitting on the ground next to her, facing the couch where James, Sirius, Peter, and a few other students sat.

Remus stood leaning against the back of the couch with a bottle to his lips, and you caught his glimmering eyes as he dryly smiled down at you before tipping his head back to drink. You noticed the bottle he held in his hands was the same as the one that sat in the middle of the haphazard circle you'd all made.

You wanted to leave, figuring that there were probably few people in the entirety of the room you'd be remotely okay with kissing, but Marlene wasn't having any of it. You watched reluctance as Mary explained the rules of the game to everyone, jittery and full of suggestive smiles.

You let your eyes drift to where James sat in front of you on the couch, and he met your nervous eyes with a sort of amused twinkle in his own, seeming absolutely unfazed by the idea of the game. You gave him the most casual smile you could and he leaned back in his seat, legs sprawled lazily with his arm around the back of the sofa. He tilted his head to the side and made a weird but funny face down at you. You laughed under your breath, hiding it behind your hand from Marlene who you could feel watching your interaction through your peripheral.

"Everyone gets a turn," instructed Mary, voice fighting against the tunes of ABBA in the background. "Whoever the bottle lands on you have to kiss. Simple." She pointed a warning finger around. "Kisses on the cheek will not be tolerated."

The circle all gave chuckles of their own, while the uneasiness of it all set you on edge.

"If you opt out of a kiss you have to drink up to the next line." Mary picked up the bottle in the middle of the circle, and you watched as she pointed to the black lines drawn on the side of the glass bottle. "And don't worry, we made sure to get the strong stuff, so be wise about opting out!" More laughing came as she winked, putting the bottle back down on its side.

"I think I'll go first," she said, a satisfied smile plastering itself to her glossed-over lips.

Crawling forward onto her knees, she reached for the bottle on the floor in front of her and spun it. Every pair of eyes watched intently as it went round and round before landing slightly to your left, pointing to the blonde-haired girl beside you.

Immediately people cheered and laughed, watching it all go down with fascinated interest fueled by the many drinks of the night.

"Drink up Mary," joked Peter from the couch. Mary smiled even more than she already was, looking up at him with a tilted head.

"Why would I?"

Then she crawled back next to Marlene who met her with an interested raise of her brows, and waited just a second before leaning forward and kissing the blonde. Wolf whistles and cheers exploded from all around at the kiss.

You turned back to your two friends as they pulled away from each other, cheeky grins encapsulating their faces.

"Who's next?" asked Mary, unfazed as she sat back in her spot.

Sirius looked between the two girls with a slack jaw. "That was hot."

You rolled your eyes, glancing over at Marlene from next to you and nudging her in the arm playfully, happy to be on the other end of the gesture. She ignored you and kept her eyes forward inside the circle, but that didn't stop you from noticing her trying to bite back her smile.

The game continued, going clockwise around the circle from Mary. There were more kisses shared and more wolf-whistling, the bottle in the middle slowly draining after each swig that had your classmates wincing painfully every time.

The game had gotten to the other side of the circle, reaching where Remus stood against the back of the couch.

"Come on Lupin," sang Frank from across the circle. Remus shook his head, arms crossed.

"Count me out." He held up the drink that was already in his hand and knocking it back swiftly. How he could drink it so easily, you had no clue.

"Alright then," complied Mary, clapping her hands together. "Who's next?"

You all followed the line of sight from Remus over to his right, where James sat in conversation with Sirius to his own right.

"Potter!" Mary yelled, and the brunette's eyes snapped over in alarm to where she and her pointed look sat on the ground. "You're up."

Brows raised, he sat up straighter in his seat, laughing softly. A horrifying fact struck you as his eyes landed on the bottle before him—no matter where it landed, you didn't think you'd be okay with whatever followed.

Whoever the bottle landed on, you'd have to watch as James kissed a girl right in front of you and act completely unphased by it. Even with all the talks you'd had with him about Lily, you weren't even sure that was something you could do. You told yourself it didn't matter and that it was part of some game. That didn't change the fact that actually watching him with someone else might hurt too much.

James, who was directly across from you, sat completely forward on the couch to reach for the bottle and his eyes met yours through his dark lashes. The sides of his mouth perked up in a boyish grin and you let yours do the same, albeit strained. You didn't like the way you could hear your own heart start to pick up as James's hand neared the bottle.

He focused back on it, fingers winding the cool glass before spinning it. Everything seemed to slow down in the seconds that it slid in circles on the maroon rug beneath it, a dizzying feeling taking over you. It seemed to spin for hours, each pair of eyes in the group plastered to it like it was something hypnotizing. You swore that the second the bottle stilled, so did your heartbeat and all the thoughts in your head.

It was pointing at you. It was pointing at you.

A red-hot feeling of alarm blared in your chest, your thin smile dropping as you swallowed. Nobody had said anything yet, or maybe you just couldn't hear them over the blood rushing through your ears.

You slowly looked up from the bottle that remained aimed straight at you and up to James, who sat directly on the other end of it. He was already watching you.

You couldn't read from his face what he was thinking, but the intensity with which his eyes met yours made something in your chest pinch. The two of you looked at each other wordlessly for a second before James looked away first, looking down and rubbing at his neck. Sirius shook his shoulder.

"The bottle has spoken," he rang mockingly, grin a mile wide as he looked between the both of you. "C'mon you two."

"Yeah," urged Peter, and others started to join in, shouts of agreement and clapping ringing through your ears from all directions. James looked around at everyone besides you, shaking his head.

"There won't be any kissing." He said it like it was something clear, something that should've been known from the start. You watched him, unmoving. You didn't know what to think, lips parted as you sat helplessly on the ground.

A few people booed, disappointment evident. Sirius scoffed, sighing. "Then drink up, mate."

You looked on as James shifted his gaze to the bottle in front of him wordlessly. You knew he didn't dare drink around Quidditch season and that he was leading Gryffindor's first practice on Monday, but he still leaned forward to pick up the bottle. You didn't even recognize what you were doing until you said the words.

"It's okay."

James's eyes snapped up to look at you, actions pausing abruptly. He frowned down at you, brows softly furrowing in confusion. "What?"

"It's okay," you repeated, not knowing what the hell you were doing. You could feel the stares of everyone pricking on your skin. "Don't ... don't drink it."

He retracted his arm away from the bottle again, sitting up. "Are- ... are you sure?"

Absolutely not.

"Yeah."

A beat passed before everyone began cheering again, and you felt like crawling into yourself because you really didn't think this through. Kissing your best friend? That sure was one way to get over him.

You took an unsteady breath in as you sat up onto your heels, eyes set on James expectantly. When he realized you were serious, you watched as he sat up even straighter, a muscle in his jaw working as he peered at you.

He still seemed unbelieving, so you nodded at him assuringly, trying to seem lighthearted while your heart beat heavily. With a note of seriousness, he surveyed you for another second before finally getting out of his seat and nearing where you sat on the ground, sinking to a knee.

The low base of the music seemed to beat in time with your own heart, the sound seeming louder than anything else in the room to you. James's eyes never left yours despite it all, the never-ending glow of his hazel eyes weighing into your own with his gaze that seemed to sink your stomach bottomlessly. Then he got closer, leaning forward hesitantly like you'd fly away with quick movement, a mesmerizing sight.

Did he look at all the girls he kissed like that? How many girls had he kissed? How many girls had been on the other end of that look before? Merlin knows how many wanted to be. You knew people were watching, waiting, but it felt like it was just you and James in a sea of blurred sights and sounds.

A curl of his brushed against your head, soft enough to send a rush through you. Were you really about to do this?

Like he was reading your mind, he whispered, "We don't have to, you know."

You nodded delicately, but steadily. "I know."

His eyes seemed to dance in circles around your face, floating from either of your eyes and then down to your lips. You went still, letting your eyes fan shut at the feeling of his hand softly holding your cheek.

Behind the black cloaks of your eyelids, you couldn't see anything at all, only feel. You sat still, waiting for what you knew was coming, for the feeling of James's lips.

In a second, they brushed against yours, feather-light and hesitant. His fingers grazed over your cheekbone. Sightless, you leaned forward in the darkness like jumping into unknown waters, and it was you who closed the distance.

Your lips met with shyness, the kind that had every inch of you buzzing. His lips were soft, gentle and forgiving, until you felt James lean into the kiss, deepening it like something inside of him was pulling him closer to you, something he couldn't deny. The feeling consumed you and it felt like you were suffocating. Not because of a lack of air but because of the storm of butterflies that seemed to crash through you right away.

You'd expected him to pull away after a second, make the kiss as short as possible. But he didn't; Neither did you.

It struck you like the crash of a wave how much you liked kissing him, how natural it felt. People around you were cheering and whooping and, for a second, it felt like it was the sound of something right, of this thing you'd had for James ending in success. But you knew that wasn't true. It was anything but.

In alarm at just how public the kiss was, you finally pulled away, not knowing how long it had even lasted.

You were breathless, chest rising and sinking rapidly. You took in the sight of James, eyes scanning over his flushed cheeks and slightly swollen lips that had some of your lip gloss on them. It made you dizzy to think that you'd been the one to put it there.

You met his eyes and, like a magnet, the way he seemed to look at you made it feel impossible to move, made all the other sounds in the common room drown away. He swallowed, eyes flickering between both of yours, and you still couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Like coming up for air, you finally looked away from him and let yourself face everyone around you who'd seen it all, watching as your heart seemed to swell for the few seconds that the kiss lasted and then shrivel back up right before their eyes.

They each sported their own looks of both surprise and entertainment, clapping and whistling following the two of you the whole time it took James to sit back down on the couch.

There seemed to be an underlying hesitancy for a moment, like there was more to be said, but it vanished as fast as it came and Mary was calling for the next turn like clockwork.

For a moment it felt as if maybe the whole thing hadn't really happened at all, like it had been something your mind imagined in desperation. But from the way James looked, you knew it had happened.

You glanced up at him again and he was already looking at you. Pathetically, with the little strength you had left in you, you offered him another strained smile. He didn't give one back.

Your heart dropped and it felt like you were sinking. You looked away again, trying to focus on the game as if an earthquake wasn't rattling your brain all the while. You felt James look away from you finally, staring somewhere low towards his hands, maybe the rug, eyes blown wide, expression unrevealing.

You didn't think you could sit there any longer. Had he figured out how you feel about him? Was he trying to think of a way to let you down easily?

You could almost feel both Marlene and Lily's gazes on your face from either side, not helping you feel any less suffocated.

Sirius had taken his turn, kissing a girl in the year below, but you hadn't paid true attention to any of it. By the time Peter was spinning the bottle you felt your legs standing up from beneath you.

Lily stopped you, grabbing your hand as she whispered, "Where are you going?"

"Bathroom," you answered plainly, squeezing her hand reassuringly before letting go of it and leaving the circle of people. You had to push your way through the crowded room to get to the nearest bathroom in the dormitories.

Once you got inside, you walked towards the sink, taking in your appearance. You looked like you'd seen a ghost. Your first instinct was to splash water on your face, wake yourself up from whatever the hell was going on, but stopped yourself, remembering the makeup you were wearing.

It wasn't fair. This wasn't fair.

Maybe it was your own fault for even going through with the kiss, but that was something you blamed on the drink you'd had and the circle of people surrounding you, waiting. You'd thought it would be a peck, something that'd give you a blush that you could hide in the low lighting of the party, nothing more. You'd been doing good—good about not thinking about your feelings for James, that is.

But nothing could have prepared you for what you were feeling now: Confusion, because how could he have kissed you like that if it wouldn't mean anything tomorrow? Frustration with yourself, because you felt your control slipping from your grasp with every breath you took, with the way your lips still simmered from the kiss.

Everything you'd done to protect yourself, to stop yourself from feeling the hurt you'd become accustomed to for years, was becoming useless. The months you spent away in France over the summer trying to forget about James and his warm gaze and stupidly cute smile were being shot down the drain.

It felt so unfair. You were so sure you were losing feelings. It must have been a temporary trick of the mind because, through just a few moments, you felt that pit in your stomach that told you were rapidly falling back down to square one.

You had to pull yourself together and snap out of whatever this was. You knew where this helpless road ended and you weren't going to let one night ruin the rest of your year.

James didn't feel the same about you as you did for him—it was plain and simple. He never had, and he never would.

Not when you were his best friend, his "number one wingman." Not when Lily was around, effortlessly graceful and the sole person who'd had James whipped for years.

With a sting in your heart, you thought back to the moments before the kiss, where James had spun the bottle, probably hoping it would land on the red-haired girl beside you, only for it to land on you. Hell, he was even willing to drink from that mystery bottle if it meant he wouldn't have to kiss you. You thought back to the dream—or nightmare, really—that you'd had that summer, and the way James's words had stung you to the point where you could really feel it, even if it was a dream.

"As if I'd ever see you in that way..."

"...Dating you would be like dating my little sister..."

"...You're not Lily, alright? You never will be."

You probably looked desperate before the kiss, making him feel like he had to kiss you after you so plainly asked him to. You looked the part now, taking in your reflection in the mirror that blurred from your watering eyes.

You wiped them right away, feeling ridiculous. This whole thing was ridiculous. You weren't going to cry in a bathroom during a party over a kiss; you had that much pride.

You took another second to pull yourself together before leaving the bathroom, fighting through the crowd of people again to find that your friends weren't where you left them, but on the other side of the room by the drinks table.

You made your way over to them, frowning. "What happened to Spin the Bottle?"

Marlene, Mary, and Lily all turned towards you in unison, the latter scanning over you like a worried mother. "Are you alright?"

You nodded quickly, dismissive. "Yeah, I'm fine. What happened to the game?" The three of them shared a look before Mary answered you.

"It kinda died down after you and James left."

You paused, looking between them with a concerned frown and dread that you couldn't hide. "James left?" They nodded. "Where did he go?"

Marlene shrugged. "Don't know." Then, she spotted something from behind you, waving a hand. "Hey, Black!" she snapped, and you turned to see Sirius, Remus, and Peter coming down the steps from the boys' dormitories. Sirius noticed her calling and the three of them came over to where you stood.

"What happened to Potter?" Marlene demanded for you. "Where'd he go?"

At the question, Sirius seemed to pause, glancing to the others briefly.

"He was tired," Remus answered for him. "Wanted to get get good sleep for Quidditch practice or something."

Marlene looked between the three of them skeptically, before nodding. "Right," she drawled, and moved to leave, walking between Sirius and Remus. Lily and Mary followed, but you stayed behind.

"Quidditch practice starts on Monday," you said flatly after they left, staring between the three boys who stood shifty before you.

"He said he doesn't feel like partying anymore," said Peter quickly, and the two others turned to him as if he'd spilled some sort of secret. You frowned, worry and confusion evident in your expression.

"Look," said Sirius with a sober tone. "We don't know for sure why he's went off to bed, but you can probably guess."

You stared at him and his serious expression, and realized with a twinge in your chest that you probably could: He was avoiding you.

"Yeah," you agreed lowly, head tipped downwards—you should've never kissed him. But you knew you couldn't take it back now.

You let your eyes wander from the floor to the table of drinks next to you, figuring that maybe a drink could do you some good.

Taking hold of a cup that was already filled amongst the rows of others, against your better judgement, you tipped your head back and drank from it until your throat burned and the cup felt light in your hands. You heard Peter gasp in surprise.

"Hey, woah," Remus chided, taking the cup from your hands. "I don't need every last one of you hungover tomorrow, yeah?"

You squinted at him, whether from the taste of the alcohol or your annoyance you didn't know. "You've been drinking all bloody night."

Sirius laughed from next to you, taking your cup from Remus and finishing whatever little was left. "Moony has a conceringly high alcholol tolerance." Peter nodded in agreement, Remus shrugging as you glared at him.

"Fine," you said, pressing a hand to your temple. The smell of alcohol mixed with the blaring music and whatever you were feeling right then was giving you a headache, and the quiet of your dorm room was starting to sound a little too appeasing. Plus, you had the feeling your mind wouldn't find peace unless you went to sleep

"Maybe I should just go to bed too." You chewed at the inside of your bottom lip. "Tell James I said goodnight when you see him." You didn't miss the way the three of them glanced around at each other concernedly but nodded anyway. "See you guys in the morning."

You waved goodbye to them and made the walk back towards the girls' dorms, finding Marlene and Lily in the crowd and wishing them goodnight too.

In the time it took you to get ready for bed, you decided that tomorrow you were going to move on—seriously move on—from whatever happened tonight, and the past few nights, and maybe the past few years too. You didn't think you had the mental strength to keep worrying, especially not when you'd been trying to stop your mind from replaying your kiss with James in your head for the last thirty minutes.

You crashed down onto your bed, feeling like you carried the weight of the world on your chest but convincing yourself it was only a feather if only to fall asleep for the night. You might've ruined everything, but at least your bed was comfy.

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