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moutainrusing · 3 days ago

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Hi,

🍬treat: Euphemia and Fleamont finding out about Jilly

Please

For many reasons, James did not want to tell his parents about Lily. He was going to list them all now, just for the sake of it.

Firstly, this relationship with Lily was new, and it felt like a precious jewel was lodged in his throat whenever he called it a relationship, because would it last, or would he have to let it go, cough it up, lose the jewel and pretend he’d never had it in the first place? Because it was something small, delicate, and if he made it something big, then would Lily slip between his fingers? Would she get fed up with James’s tendency to blow everything out of proportion?

Secondly, he’d never actually told his parents about his life-long love for Lily… James had vociferously declared his dedication at school, but with his parents… it just never came up? Or James never brought it up. They’d probably think he was too young. His parents had met in their thirties, the acceptable age, in their opinion, for finding romance, if one wanted it. Before that, it was about focusing on goals, to achieve one’s dreams, to get a job and love it. They encouraged James to chase his aspirations, find something he was passionate about and work for it. What was important wasn’t romance, but forging strong friendships and discovering a world of personal creation. Of course, James agreed. Family, friendship and self-love definitely came before any type of romance, but was it naive of him to want the type of love he had for Lily, too? What if he was too young? That was why he yelled about it in school, daring people to challenge him, wondering if he was being brave or stupid. He was immature about it, wasn’t he? What if he wasn’t sincere?

That was the third reason. James didn’t know how to tell people, honestly, that what he felt was true. He covered it up with a mask of bravado, arrogant claims and swaggering strides, but he wanted to be able to say it without all of that, to bear his heart and tell it fully: I’m in love with Lily Evans. Without all the extra theatrics, without making it showy in an attempt to be off-handedly careless about it, it was the truth, and why couldn’t he say it like that?

Fourth reason, James and Lily hadn’t even said ‘I love you.’ James was pretty certain that Lily thought the previous times that James had announced his love, before they were dating or had even been friends, were attention-seeking, exaggerated lies. Really, James didn’t know how to say ‘I love you’ without it coming off as false. So, Lily probably didn’t think he loved her just yet, and she definitely did not love him.

Fifth, they were taking things slow, and James needed to tone it down, tamp down on his excitement about it, because it wouldn’t be right for him to gush, and every time James spoke, he gushed. Therefore, he would have to keep his mouth shut, and he couldn’t tell his parents.

James reminded himself of this list as he counted down the minutes for his friends to arrive at his house for the end-of-year summer party, recounting their time at Hogwarts in the orange sunset of his family’s garden, the last moments of them acting like they were still kids in their seventh year, messing around before they had to be adults. Lily would be coming, and they would act like friends, even though they were dating, and James was bursting about it. They’d agreed to keep their relationship on the low, and James vowed to follow through with that.

“Prongs!” Sirius barrelled into his room. “How do I look?” They gave James a spin, rambling, “I went with Pa down to the forest to collect ingredients, but then a bunch of Bubotubers squirted pus all over us! And when we came back, there were only ten minutes to get ready for the party! So,” Sirius leaned dangerously close to James’s face and solemnly looked him in the eye. “Do I stink?”

James sniffed dramatically, excessively wrinkling his nostrils and heaving his chest. For a very long moment, he deliberated, and with a sigh, he morosely admitted, “Yes.”

Sirius whacked his head, and proceeded to tackle him, pushing him off the bed and to the floor, “Potter, don’t lie to me, I cannot smell like a Bubotuber, and this isn’t even vanity, this is basic hygiene!” they threatened, wrestling with James’s limbs.

Countering Sirius’s attacks, James laughed, “Fine, fine, you don’t stink!” And to benevolently prove it, James wrapped an elbow around Sirius’s head and pulled them to his chest, inhaling their hair loudly and sighing contentedly, “Ah, bliss.”

“Gerroff,” Sirius mumbled indignantly, though they made no attempt to move.

“You get off,” James retorted.

“No, you—”

“Sirius! James!” Euphemia called.

“Your friends are here!” Fleamont followed up giddily. “I’m gonna say hi!”

“Wait, Pa—” James leaped off the ground and hurtled down the stairs, Sirius rushing down right beside him.

“I want to let them in!” James and Sirius cried simultaneously, turning to grin at each other.

“I will,” Sirius tilted their head smugly.

“No, me—”

“Remus! Peter!” Fleamont beamed, opening the door and wrapping them in a hug without warning, and Peter was so short that he was completely engulfed by Fleamont’s chest, while Remus’s head awkwardly jutted out above Fleamont’s shoulder, his eyes bulging out of his sockets as he looked at James and Sirius with an expression of absolute shock and confusion.

Euphemia snorted, patted Remus’s gawkily protruding head, smiled, “It’s a pleasure to see you both,” and again, gave no warning as she joined the embrace. Following suit with their family, James and Sirius crashed right into the hug as well.

The doorbell rang, and in a flash, Sirius was swinging the door open, “Marlene! Mary! Lily! Dorcas!”

James also skidded to Sirius’s side, smiling goofily at his friends, “Hi!” He looked at Lily, and she looked at him, and James desperately wanted to freeze this moment in time, cling to the second that her eyes met his, bright and intense in the way they pinned him to the spot, holding his gaze in place as if they were channelling physical beams of light into his retinas, sending the heat coursing down his spine, from the top of his head to the tips of his feet, soldering him to the ground. Lily broke away, turning to wave in her adorable way at his parents.

Sighing dreamily, James allowed his feet to give way, for his body to slump into Sirius’s shoulder beside him.

Sirius raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I thought you were keeping it on the low?” they muttered.

“We are,” James sighed again. “We just looked at each other, all people do that.”

“Right,” Sirius snorted. “So you definitely weren’t eye-shagging?” they snarked. Before James could refute that, Sirius shoved James off their shoulder, grabbing his hand and tugging him into the garden, where all their friends and family slouched over sun loungers and patio chairs.

“Bliss,” Sirius collapsed onto the grass, lying with a hand over their eyes as they smiled in the face of the evening sun.

“Glorious,” James added, sinking into the soft grass next to Sirius.

“Toffs,” Lily mumbled under her breath, and James looked up to see her in the deck chair beside his head, the soles of her sandals hovering near his sprawled-out hair.

He beamed at her dopily, tilting his face upside down to stare at her, mouthing, But I’m your toff.

She kicked him lightly with her sandal, and he turned his head to avoid her wrath, bursting into laughter. He didn’t miss her slight blush, and he glimpsed the way she smiled at him fondly. This was probably the best James had ever felt. Definitely the best, actually.

“So,” Fleamont leaned forward, hands steepled beneath his chin in a vaguely conspiratorial sort of way. He looked pointedly between Dorcas and Marlene. “Are you two… lovers?” he asked solemnly.

Marlene blinked from her position in Dorcas’s lap, before a lazy grin took over her face. “Aye, sir,” she saluted. Jabbing a finger at Dorcas, “We’re lovers, you heard him.”

Dorcas made a face, contradictory to the affectionate way they pulled Marlene further into their chest, “Looks like we have to be.”

“Oh!” Euphemia and Fleamont squealed simultaneously, clinging to each other.

“Young love,” Euphemia sighed reminiscently, clutching a hand to her chest.

James raised an eyebrow, “I thought you two married when you were thirty-five.”

Fleamont gasped, also clutching his chest, “Are you implying that we’re old?!”

“Yes,” Sirius shot James a mocking side-eye. “He was.”

“I can’t believe this!” Euphemia cried.

“Sirius, this is why you’re our favourite!” Fleamont waved a hysterical finger at Sirius, and Sirius caught it between their hands, nodding in understanding as they squeezed it compassionately.

James rolled his eyes. “S’okay, I’m Remus’s favourite.”

Remus didn’t look up from his book.

James sighed, “Well, I’ve been replaced by a book.”

“You would be my favourite,” Peter offered sympathetically. “But I’m really loving Monty’s cheese rolls.”

Fleamont perked up and gave Peter a high-five.

“You’d never be my favourite,” Mary stated bluntly. “And Effie’s cakes are always on top.”

“Wiser words were never spoken,” Euphemia pulled Mary into a hearty headlock.

Mary rolled her eyes, but leaned into Euphemia’s arms regardless. She cast a glance at Marlene and Dorcas, before immediately looking away and concluding, “And they’re each other’s favourites.”

That left only one option. James rolled over to face Lily, sitting up on his elbows and batting his eyelashes, “Lily, am I your favourite?”

Lily looked at him consideringly. Eventually, she decided, “Maybe.” Then she smirked, “For certain things, yes.”

James’s lips parted, and a flush seeped beneath his skin. “Oh…”

“So,” Fleamont leaned forward once again, this time eyeing James and Lily. “Are you two…”

In the middle of Fleamont’s dramatic pause for suspense, James checked Lily’s expression. She seemed relaxed, lips curving upwards as they dimpled her cheeks. Okay? she mouthed.

James nodded vigorously.

“…Lovers?” Fleamont finished.

Euphemia whacked her husband upside the head. “No, they’re clearly a pair of unwashed pyjamas,” she snarked.

Fleamont raised his arms in surrender, “My bad.” He looked closely at James and Lily, “So, how long have you two been unwashed for?”

Well, James’s face had already been bright red. By now, it must’ve exploded off his skull due to overheating.

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aventurineswife · 1 day ago

Text

Stages of Shadows |

R O U N D 1

The lights in the preparation room were dimmed, casting a soft, theatrical glow over the contestants as they moved about, adjusting to the discomfort of their new performance attire. In one corner stood Robin, dressed in an intricate outfit befitting her reputation, yet there was a subtle tension in her posture as she glanced over the stage setup, breathing in the heavy atmosphere of anticipation. She straightened her costume, fingers trailing over the ornate details that made her feel both regal and vulnerable.

Her eyes flickered across the room, finding [Name], who was calmly adjusting their own attire. Though they'd exchanged few words before, the air between them held a strange familiarity mixed with a new layer of rivalry, now that they knew the consequences of failure. [Name] glanced at Robin, catching her gaze just for a moment—a fleeting glance that held no warmth, only a steady, unreadable intensity that sent a chill down her spine.

Taking a breath, Robin tried to shake off the unease. She had performed countless times before audiences that adored her, but here, it was different. There was no adoration waiting for her out there—only judgment and the cold, detached gaze of the evaluators. The stakes were terrifyingly real.

A low chime echoed in the room, signaling that it was time. Robin swallowed, her heartbeat quickening. She could feel [Name]'s presence behind her, steady and unfazed. It was as if the world beyond the curtain had melted away, and only the stage and their impending judgment existed.

As they were called forward, Robin gave a final glance at [Name], finding in their expression something between confidence and quiet ruthlessness. This was it—their first round, the moment to prove themselves or be forgotten forever.

(Art by @zassyoku_DD on X)

On the stage, as the haunting notes began to fill the air, Robin and [Name] slipped into the music’s flow, voices weaving together in a bittersweet harmony that held the audience in rapt attention. Their voices rose and fell, merging effortlessly, blending vulnerability with strength, creating something beyond a competition. Each note seemed to bind them, transcending the stakes and the darkness looming at the edge of the stage.

The lights dimmed to an intimate glow, spotlighting the two of them as they sang. At that moment, their eyes met—two gazes locked, capturing a warmth that melted the cold tension of the competition. Robin’s nerves faded as [Name]'s eyes softened, reflecting gentleness. There was no calculation, no rivalry—only the connection between two souls bound by the intensity of this shared moment.

They sang the next verse, their voices intertwining with a vulnerability that was raw and tender. Without realizing it, they stepped closer, their hands brushing as they reached for the same note. A faint smile tugged at the corner of Robin’s lips, one that [Name] mirrored, as if they both understood something unspoken—that, for now, nothing else mattered. Winning, losing... it all faded away.

As Robin gazed into [Name]'s eyes, the final note lingered in the air, resonating softly in their hearts. Her gaze drifted for a split second to the scoreboard, the ominous numbers sealing her fate, before she looked back at [Name] with a serene acceptance.

Her lips curved into a gentle smile, and she whispered, so quietly it was barely a breath: “Please take care of my brother.”

For a moment, [Name] didn’t understand, still lost in the warmth of their shared performance, still captured by the closeness between them. But then, like a thunderclap, the words sank in. Their eyes widened just as something warm and wet splattered against their cheek—a spray of crimson that stole the air from their lungs. They staggered back, the weight of realization crashing down as they watched Robin’s body fall.

Time seemed to slow as they fell to their knees, numbness spreading through their limbs. The stage lights cast a stark glow over Robin’s form, her body lying still, surrounded by a pool of her own blood, a final soft smile gracing her face as though she’d found peace in her last moment.

A single trickle of red traced the curve of her lips, frozen in time.

[Name] reached out, trembling, their fingertips brushing the cold stage floor just inches from her. The crowd’s noise, the distant cheers, the indifferent faces of the judges—all blurred into a single, painful silence. The friend who had been beside them, who had shared this stage, was gone.

They could only stare, horror-stricken, the emptiness sinking deeper as Robin’s words echoed in their mind. The weight of her last request crushed them, etching itself into their heart like a scar: “Please take care of my brother.”

And in that moment, as the reality of her absence set in, [Name] felt their own smile fade, replaced by the raw, aching emptiness of loss.

The world around them felt distant, blurred at the edges, as if time itself had halted to mourn her passing. But reality crashed back all too soon—the firm grip of a guard’s hand yanked them upright, snapping a cold metal collar back around their neck. The sharp click of the lock echoed, sealing them back into the relentless, unyielding grip of the competition.

The weight of the collar pressed into their skin, a brutal reminder of their place here, as if the warmth of her last touch and her parting words were already slipping away. They didn’t struggle, didn’t fight; they simply stood, eyes still locked on Robin’s peaceful form lying amid the crimson stain on the stage. That faint smile she wore haunted them, searing into their memory as something to carry with them—a fragile comfort and a haunting wound all at once.

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