#maurauders microfic

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Show - Oct 30 - @rosekillermicrofic - 808 words - Warnings: none

“Will you please stop by Spellbinding Sound for me?” Pandora begged as soon as Evan picked up her call.

“‘Hello, Evan, my dearest brother,’” Evan said dryly. “I think you’re supposed to greet me at the very least before asking for a favor.”

Pandora sighed noisily. “I just need a new pack of reeds for my clarinet, and you know which ones to buy.”

Evan sighed back at her. “I suppose it is on the way home. I’ll drop by for you, if you make me dinner.”

“Deal,” Pandora said, hanging up immediately. Evan looked at his phone blankly, offended for a moment, before remembering she was probably in the middle of practicing when she called.

Spellbinding Sound was a small music supply shop that Pandora favored, and Evan had been sent there a few times on errands for her. He usually didn’t mind; the owner, an older man named Albus, was kind and patient. When Evan entered the store, though, he was already helping a customer.

“Would you like me to restring the instrument for you?” Albus was asking the man in front of him. The man was shorter than Evan, with dark, tousled hair and several face piercings: two on his lip, another on his eyebrow, another on his nose, too many to count on both ears. He was wearing a graphic band t-shirt over ripped-up jeans, a leather jacket slung over his shoulder. His bare arms were covered in tattoos, and they continued up his neck and down his hands. Evan found himself wondering where else the man was tattooed.

“No, thanks,” the man said in a smooth voice. “I like to do it myself.”

He picked up his strings, which Evan assumed were for some sort of guitar or bass for his punk band, based on the man’s appearance. The man nearly ran into Evan when he spun around and walked towards the door with a swift gait.

“My bad,” the man said, worrying one of the lip rings between his teeth for a moment. “I’m Barty.”

Confused as to why the man gave his name, Evan responded with his own. “Evan.”

Evan tried to step around Barty, but Barty stepped into his path again.

“You like music?” Barty asked, and before Evan could answer, he continued talking. “You should come to my show. Friday night at the Slytherin Stage. I hope I’ll see you there.”

Evan watched him walk out the door, raising both eyebrows at the man’s gall. Inviting him to a show was one thing, but leaving directly after the invite was just dramatic. Evan shook it off and stepped up to the counter and greeted Albus.

“Does Pandora need new reeds?” Albus asked knowingly, his eyes sparkling. Evan nodded. They chatted amicably while Albus grabbed the reeds for Evan, and processed the payment for them. Soon enough, Evan was on his way home to Pandora.

Evan didn’t even know why he was attending the concert. He wasn’t a punk music person — but something about Barty had made him want to learn more. Maybe it was his overconfidence or attractiveness, but Evan felt compelled to come to his show that evening. He was surprised that attendees were dressed so nicely, and he was glad that he had come directly after work, so he was still wearing his nice work slacks and a button-down shirt. As he took his seat in the audience, in a gorgeous emerald-green auditorium. He was starting to think he had greatly misread the man he’d spoken to, because there was no way he was about to see some sort of punk band performance.

Nerves flew in his stomach as he wondered what he had signed up for, just as the curtains pulled back and revealed an entire full symphony orchestra. Evan scanned the faces of every single person until he found Barty, sitting at the very front left. He was first chair violin, the goddamn concertmaster. Evan had him pegged completely wrong.

To make matters worse, Barty looked even more attractive in the emerald green suit and tie, with his instrument propped on his knee and his bow in his other hand. Evan had been so stupid to assume he played the guitar, when clearly Barty’s body had been made to hold the violin. The conductor raised his hands, and then lovely music filled the auditorium as the orchestra began.

Evan was entranced. He watched Barty throughout the entire performance, never taking his eyes off Barty’s graceful movements. He ended up lingering by the side stage, waiting for Barty after the show. When the man emerged, he looked surprised to see Evan there.

“You came,” he said softly, before seemingly shaking confidence back into himself. “You liked the show, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Evan said. “I really did.”

And then he stepped forward and kissed Barty.

[mallowsweetmiri]

Beneath the Surface ~ Jegulus

Summary: Regulus allows James to sneak into the prefects bathroom with him after rounds

Warnings: smut, cursing

—————————————————————————

Regulus wasn’t usually this uptight, (debatable) but with exams quickly approaching on top of the prospect of returning to Grimauld Place, he was on edge. He had just gotten finished with potions, which to him was a useless class considering he knew how to brew everything they were being taught. Why was he even required to attend? Slughorn knew his skill level. Regulus shook his head as he swung around the corner, hoping to head back to his dorm for some much needed shut eye before his prefect rounds that night. Just as he was making way down towards the common room, something grabbed his arm and tugged him into an empty classroom. As the door shut, James let his cloak fall off his body to reveal his stupid smile. Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Why can’t you just approach me like a normal person,” Regulus said, leaning back onto a desk as James pouted.

“But you told me not to talk to you in school,” James frowned and stepped towards Regulus. He rolled his eyes again before pushing himself up to kiss James. He could practically feel James’ smile on his lips. It almost made the corners of his mouth curl up. Almost.

“Well, at least you listen to me,” Regulus said as he pulled away, breathless. Kissing James never got any less overwhelming. It was as if that boy had him in a spell. James chuckled and moved himself in between Regulus’ legs. Being a few inches taller, James placed his fingers under Regulus’ chin and tilted his head up, their lips almost touching.

“I always listen to you,” James breathed before cupping Regulus’ cheek and reconnecting their lips with a sweet kiss. Gods, every time they kissed James felt like his entire body was exploding. They stayed like that for a few minutes, James pushing Regulus back onto the desk and kissing him as if he’d been starved. In James defense, he had been. Regulus had been so busy studying, he’d been neglecting James (according to him) and all James wanted was to spend time with his boyfriend.

“Love,” James started.

“Don’t call me that,” Regulus stated, making James chuckle under his breath.

“Reg,” James corrected himself, “Can I see you tonight? I miss you.” Regulus made a face. He wasn’t the biggest fan of James’ ability to say exactly what he’d been feeling.

“I can’t, I have prefect rounds. Besides, aren’t you spending time with me right now?” Regulus pointed out, running his cold rings along James’ neck. James shivered but didn’t let this distraction deter him from his goal.

“Yes but I want more, Reg,” James whined, tilting his head as Regulus ran his thumb along the side of his jaw. Regulus tsked.

“Poor James. You want more?” Regulus teased, making James nod fervently. This made Regulus laugh. James was truly something, and Regulus had him all to himself. An idea came to him. “Fine, come to the fifth floor after 12 tonight. Right by the statue of Boris the Bewildered.”

“You mean the prefects bathroom?” James asked, a blush spreading across him lovely cheeks. This made Regulus smile again, against his will.

“Yes, and wear that cloak of yours,” Regulus said, motioning his head towards the cloak that was now in a heap on the floor, “I don’t want you getting caught before I can have my way with you.” James nodded again before Regulus leaned up to kiss him once again. When he pulled away, James looked lovely. “I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late.” And with that, Regulus left to go back to his dorm for a much needed nap. He was going to need energy for tonight.

~That evening~

Regulus sighed as he headed down the hallway. He hated his prefects duties. Why did they make students patrol the halls late at night, shouldn’t the professors be doing this? Regulus grumbled to himself as he started up the staircase. When his eyes landed on the statue, he smirked to himself. At least there were some perks to being a prefect. He figured James was already there, so he headed into the bathroom holding the door open for nobody. Well not nobody. Regulus chuckled as he felt James strong arms wrap themselves around his torso. He placed three locking charms on the door along with a few sound proofing protections.

“James, I can’t see you,” Regulus laughed.

“Oh,” James said, letting his cloak drop to the floor. Regulus turned around to be met with James’ smile once again. “I can’t believe I’ve never been in here before, this is amazing,” James said, looking around the bathroom. He was right, the prefects bathroom was amazing. The brilliant stone walls were lined with stained glass windows, shining colored moonlight over the enormous sunken bath in the center of the room.

“Let me get the bath ready,” Regulus said, walking over to the faucets and turning a few of them on. Colored bubbles began to pour into the bath, the moonlight illuminating the water. James wasted no time as he put his glasses in his pants pocket and began to take off his shirt. Regulus removed a vile from his cloak, pouring the contents into the tub.

“What’s that?” James asked, walking towards Regulus as he sprinkled the herbs under the spout.

“It’s just lavender and mint,” Regulus shrugged, “it helps me relax when I’m stressed.”

“Are you stressed, love?” James brows furrowed rubbing Regulus shoulders. He shrugged.

“I just have a lot going on right now,” Regulus didn’t want to dwell on it. Better to push it down then let it out. James planted a kiss to his cheek.

“Let me help you relax then,” James said huskily, his fingers beginning to unbuttoned Regulus’ shirt as he kissed down his neck. Regulus let his head fall back onto James’ shoulder. Under any other circumstance, Regulus would never let his guard down like this, but with James it was different. Regulus felt safe, he felt content. He didn’t mind letting James take care of him, and he certainly didn’t mind taking care of James. As James fingers made their way down to the button of Regulus’ pants, Regulus turned around.

“Let’s get in the bath,” Regulus said, barely over a whisper. James nodded as he began to strip off his own pants and underwear. He was already hard, and it almost made Regulus blush. James was impressive, and that was another one of the many reasons why Regulus loved his boyfriend. The two of them entered into the bath, both groaning in delight as the warm water washed over their bodies.

“Gods, you’re so lucky you can come here, Reg. I would kill for this bath after quidditch,” James moaned, sinking down further into his seat. Regulus chuckled.

“Maybe I should bring you here more often.” With that, Regulus took it upon himself to climb over James, letting his body weight sink down on his lap. James groaned and let his head fall onto the edge of the tub. Regulus smiled at him, albeit a devious smile, and tugged on the back of his head roughly. He connected their lips, mercilessly teasing and biting James’ lips. The faucets made for a lovely background to their song of moans as Regulus continued to grind down on James. Regulus thought he sounded lovely.

“Fuck, Reg,” James gasped when their kiss broke. His face was twisted with pleasure as Regulus reached down to grab his length. “Can I please? I want to make you feel good, Reggie.” James panted, unable to move while Regulus was on top of him like this. Regulus laughed in his pleading boyfriend’s face. This made James dick pulse under Regulus’ fingers.

“You want to suck me off? Huh?” Regulus mocked him. James nodded impatiently, pleading to Reggie with his eyes. Regulus chuckled, James looked so cute. “Okay, James. Go ahead.” Regulus moved off of him, pulling himself out of the water to sit on the edge of the tub. James moved in front of him and shook his head stubbornly.

“No, sit in the water. I want you to relax,” James said, pulling on Regulus’ knees to pull him down into the tub. Regulus obliged.

“Okay, but I don’t understand how your supposed to suck me off underwater,” Regulus chuckled, sinking back down into the tub. James smiled as he grabbed his wand from the side of the tub.

“I love being a wizard,” James said before casting a bubblehead charm on himself. He grinned at Regulus.

“Gods you’re so stupid,” Regulus chucked as James sank below the surface. As soon as his mouth met with Regulus’ tip, he took back his words. This was the smartest idea James had ever had. Regulus threw his head back as James took him in full, his warm mouth engulfing Regulus in pleasure. “Fuck,” Regulus moaned, grabbing James hair under the water. He wished he could watch him, but James was right. The water was relaxing his muscles, bringing him close to release in an embarrassing amount of time. James hands worked to massage Regulus thighs as he choked down on his boyfriend’s cock, his own dick hard against his stomach. He felt Regulus tug hard on his hair, pulling him back up to the surface. James emerged, gasping for air as the water collapsed around his head and dripped down his body. Regulus thought he looked like an incarnation of Aphrodite being born from sea foam. “Com’ere,” Regulus whispered, pulling James on top of him. They kissed, hungry and needy and knowing what came next. James pulled Regulus out of the water, setting him on the edge of the tub. Regulus reached back towards his cloak, grabbing a small stopper out and handing it to James. James smiled cheekily to himself. Regulus was always prepared.

“Turn around, love,” James said, giving Regulus one last deep kiss. Regulus listened, he would only take orders from James. He heard the plug of the stopper being pulled out before warm oil was poured on his backside, James’ hand quickly gathering the substance and rubbing his thumb over Regulus’ rim. Regulus shuddered and braced his knees against the side of the tub. James poured the rest of the oil on his hands, throwing the stopper to the side. He used one hand to finger Regulus’ hole and the other to pump his throbbing cock. Regulus moaned as James’ finger entered him, working to stretch him out. It felt painfully slow, Regulus moving his hips back into his finger to get some relief.

“Fuck, James. Please, just fuck me already,” Regulus groaned, aching for his boyfriend to be inside of him. James groaned, bringing his hand down to grasp Regulus hips firmly as he lined himself up. James couldn’t speak if he wanted to, his body so overwhelmed with lust. He watched as his cock entered Regulus, his thumb pressed over his favorite mole on his boyfriend’s hip. Regulus’ head fell down with a groan as James bottomed out.

“Gods Reg, you feel so fucking good,” James grunted before pulling back, just to slam into him once more. It didn’t take long before James was pounding into Regulus, whispering praises as he watched. One thing James loved about Regulus was his waist. He loved to hold it while he fucked the living daylight out of him. He felt his boyfriend clench around him, his body losing control of itself as James continued to pound into him.

“James,” Regulus whined in a breathy moan, “I’m so close.” This made James’ stomach twist, his own release beginning to form.

“Come for me, Reg,” James whispered, pulling Regulus up from his chest and back against his body in a swift motion. The new angle sent Regulus over the edge, his cum shuddering out from him as James left wet kissing on his neck. It wasn’t long before James was grunting into Regulus’ shoulder, filling him up with his own cum. James let out one last grunt as he gently fell over Regulus, the two of them catching their breathes on the edge of the tub.

“Fuck,” Regulus let out a hasty laugh as he rolled onto his back on the cool tiled floor. The tub felt way too hot now. James let out a chuckle as he too fell onto his back next to Regulus, trying to catch his breath amidst the steam. Regulus cast a quick cleaning spell on them both, despite the fact that they were next to a giant tub. James hummed and rolled over to Regulus, kissing his shoulder and rubbing his nose against his skin.

“That was amazing,” James sighed, letting his hands wonder to Regulus’ playing with the rings on his fingers.

“It always is,” Regulus whispered, his head falling to look at James. He brought his hand up to stroke his cheek, his eyes always looked so bright without his glasses on. It was easy for him to admit that he was hopelessly in love with James, even if he didn’t say it all that often. But James was good like that, and he let Regulus take his time, never pressuring him to be someone he wasn’t. Regulus pushed himself up, leaning over James to give him a long kiss. “I have to go soon. I have to be up early for practice tomorrow,” Regulus said, his thumb still stroking the side of James face. James frowned but nodded. He understood. The two of them stood up, slowly getting dressed through a series of laughs and bubble fights. It was funny, James thought, that nobody got to see Regulus like this. He wasn’t even sure he smiled outside of their meetings. But James didn’t mind. He got to keep his beautiful smile all to himself. As they went their separate ways, Regulus left James with one last kiss, leaving a permanent smile on James face as he snuck back to his dorm.

When he came to his door, he saw a light was still on. He frowned, he was hoping to just go to bed without questions asked. Now he would have to come up with some sort of excuse. He pulled his cloak off and entered the room. Remus and Sirius were sat by the window sill having a smoke, Peter’s curtain closed around his bed. Their heads turned as James came in, offering a wave as he shut the door behind him.

“Having a late night wank there Prongs?” Remus joked, taking a puff of his cigarette. Sirius chuckled, following suit. James let out a laugh.

“Heh, no I was just in the kitchens. Y’know, bulking for quidditch and all,” James said, earning a laugh and a raised brow from Remus. Fuck, James was so bad at lying. James went to his trunk as he began to strip off his clothes in exchange for pajamas. Sirius hopped off the window sill and walked over to him, sniffing him as he got closer.

“Why do you smell like that…” Sirius trailed off, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Smell like what?” James let out a forced laugh as he quickly pulled his sweatshirt over his head.

“Like… like Regulus.” James could feel his body tense up, but he had to play it off. Another extremely fake laugh left his lips.

“I dunno Sirius, I don’t usually go around smelling your brother.” Lie. Sirius squinted his eyes at James. He wasn’t buying it. “The kitchen elves gave me a cup of mint tea and I spilled it on myself, you think that’s what you’re smelling?” James said, thrusting his shirt under Sirius’ nose. Sirius sniffed it, still looking slightly wary.

“Yeah… I guess that is what I’m smelling,” Sirius said, going back to the window sill. James let out the breath he’d been holding, shoving his clothes back into his trunk. Remus rolled his eyes. Gods those two were idiots.

[ladyelephant-12]

At school in Englisch Class

Me: receiving a notification on my phone

Me: realizing what it is, grinning like an idiot and giggling excitedly

My friend, teasingly: Aha, woh texted you? Is there something going on with anyone???

Me, laughing: Oh no way better. A new chapter of one of my favorite fanfics, i waited over a month desperately for, just came out.

My friend: …..

[eastwindmlk]

Written for @jilymicrofics prompt: Care, Feb 3rd

A little @jilymicro-oops at 1849 words

Companion to Put on Bed Rest

Lily was never one for the cold; she disliked the way it crept into your very bones, the way it would bite at everything that was left exposed. And after a particularly nasty cold, courtesy of James Potter stuffing a snowball down her shirt—something for which he had apologised profusely and she had, in turn, pushed him into the lake over once the frost had thawed. She had learned to stay away from snowball fights. 

Even with James having caught something himself, she was not going to risk it. After a quiet stroll through the snow, she avoided the rumbustious crowd and left before they could spot her. Having retrieved herself a flask of hot chocolate from the kitchens, which she had every intention of spiking with some cherry liqueur her father had brought back from his trip to Austria, she made her way back to her bed. She planned on sitting down and devouring one of Hestia’s harlequin romances. 

She’d promised her that this one was particularly steamy, and that was just what she needed right now. Even if she would not admit it aloud, having been in such close proximity with James, who is patient, clever, responsible, and disgustingly handsome, she needed something to distract her from her own romantic mishaps. 

She had the hope that the whiles of Lucy Brown and her handsome doctor, Travis Walsh, would distract her from her own pathetic predicament. Maybe she’d even got to work off some of that tension that had been brewing just under the surface. 

Or not. 

Lily could see him sitting in the window the moment she pushed through the portrait hole. The same spot he always used when he wanted to be melodramatic and mope. It was where they would find him after a particularly poor quidditch practice. 

It was reserved for the little moments. Things that could easily be fixed, but he just wanted to commiserate. The spot was also notably empty after bigger disappointments. Like lost games or particularly poor news days. She’d learned those were days he would linger at the pitch. He would find somewhere up high to think. 

The redhead considered brushing past him, letting him wallow in his self-pity. Only to hear him sniffle and feel the overwhelming need to comfort him. She could hardly let him sit there like that, right? At the very least, she should check. She told herself, and before she knew it, she had said his name. “Potter?” she’d asked quietly. 

He turned around, his eyes watery and his skin clammy-looking. He looked like he should be in bed, not sitting around trying to read. Her hand darted out, her fingers brushing his forehead. He was burning up. Great. “You really should go to the hospital wing,” she informed him, worried that he might actually collapse not long from now. 

“I’m fine, Evans,” he protested, the words followed by a coughing fit. He was not fine; he was so much not fine that his usual easy smile looked more like a grimace than anything. He genuinely looked like he was in some sort of pain, and Lily resigned herself to taking him to bed.

If he was not going down to the hospital wing, he should at least be lying down. Which was the least she could do, she supposed. Make sure that James lays down and does not injure himself further sitting here. Once he was tucked in, she could resume her afternoon as planned. 

“Back to bed with you,” she ordered, jerking her thumb in the direction of the girls’ dorm. A mistake likely made out of habit. A mistake she did not realise she'd made until he'd managed to get up with a lot of huffing and groaning—his muscles stiff from either the cold or the flu he was nursing. And she barrelled past her, up to the girls' dormitories. The precise direction she had directed him in.

Lily watched, expecting the stairs to sound the alarm and send him sliding down on his arse at any moment now. Only when he made it to the curve in the spiral did she realise that he now had Head Boy privileges. He was not going to be barred from the girls' dorms, and panic struck here. Wondering in what state they'd left their room this morning. 

She dreaded the possibilities. There were plenty of embarrassing artefacts that James could find. Not just around her bed; he wouldn't even know which one was hers. But that did not mean he needed to stumble onto Marlene's knickers or Hestia's collection of raunchy novellas. Bounding up the stairs after him, her hands reached to grip onto his shirt, which caused him to stall and sway, leaving her space to push past him near the last step. 

“Oh no, you are not going in there! No, sir!” Lily protested, placing herself in his path to block the door to her dorm. But he still reached past her to the door handle. This close, she could feel his fever burning through her thick coat, see the sheen of sweat on his forehead, and see the bleary-eyed look behind his glasses. 

James gripped the handle, swaying into her dangerously, and she knew that he would not make it back down the stairs without risking a nasty fall. Never mind making it up the stairs to his own bed. “Fucking hell, Potter. You are really not leaving me any choice, are you?” Lily complained through gritted teeth, her arms wrapping around his middle as he staggered into her. 

She locked her knees as his full weight came down on her, even if it was just for a moment, until he got his footing back. Just don’t mind the mess, alright.” She pushed his hair back, her hand slick with sweat. The door opened, and they were hit with an overwhelming wave of lavender and eucalyptus, undoubtedly Marlene having spelled it up after endless complaints about the smell of her gear. Or maybe Dorcas, who had been complaining about the smell of their soggy boots that morning. 

Whoever it was had overdone it, big time. 

Lily blinked as her nose was assaulted. James started coughing, bending over her, and making her grunt at the added weight. Half carrying, half dragging him across the room. Just wanting to get him into a bed now. Once her hands were free, she could dispel the charm. 

“You have the same bed,” he remarked, barely able to breathe but no longer coughing. 

Letting James collapse into her bed, she quickly kicked yesterday's underwear under the bed before reprimanding him, "Catch your breath before offering commentary.” She gave him a stern look before shrugging off her coat and draping it over her trunk. She was about to ask about his remarks. Effidently, they'd picked the same spot in the dorm during their first year. It almost seemed like fate. 

Something was enticing about the look of James Potter in her bed; she thought she was going to be having regardless. However, she supposed he would be sweaty for different reasons. A thought shook from her mind when James remarked, “Your dorm is a lot nicer than mine.” His eyes caught hers with a tired smile. "Smells better too, once you've got used to it." 

Lily couldn't help but laugh, a little too enthusiastic. When she snorted, Lily wanted nothing more than the floorboards to swallow her up. Hand clamping over her mouth in fear of a repeat, her cheeks warming up in embarrassment. “That is because Marlene’s Quidditch gear isn’t here,” she told him with a roll of her eyes. “You should smell it then.” Hopefully, the little jest could distract him from her little inelegant moment.

She let him recover from the laughter while she dug through her bedside table, certain that her mother had sent her a jar of Vicks. Something that she thought might help him. 

“That might be the problem.” He sniffed. "Too much quidditch gear," he groaned, his fingers pressing into his temples just as she found the little dark blue jar. Holding it out triumphantly, only to realise that James would have no clue what it was or what it might do. Still, she sat on the bed and fixed his collar. 

"Can I? It'll help," she promised, already reaching to pull his shirt up, doing her utmost not to be too distracted by the underneath. Waiting for his permission before pushing the fabric up. Exposing his chest. She kept her face down, hiding her flush, as she carefully rubbed the balm into his chest. Only pausing to feel his heart race under her touch. Biting back a smile. 

Then he was right there, having pushed himself up to get closer to her. His teeth caught onto his lip, sure that this was it. He was going to kiss her, and she would let him. She would love that; it would have been perfect. Like a moment in one of her books. 

As quickly as that moment had come, his heat faded, making her chase it without thinking. Still chasing his lips, wanting that kiss. The enchantment broke when she nearly toppled forward. She had to catch herself on the pillow beside him, draw a shallow breath, and blink back to reality. 

Lily scrambled for what to say, cursing herself for blushing this easily. Or rather, that James could make her blush this easily; no one else seemed to have quite the same knack for it. “Um- I. Can you turn around?” Moving things along, the question made her hesitate long enough for her to explain. “I need to do your back, too.”

“Right, of course,” he stammered, twisting for her to be able to reach over. Her body pressed into his. Carefully repeating the process, she was unable to stop herself from admiring the sculpted back. Her fingers were absentmindedly gliding along his spine. He resists the urge to let her fingers walk along his ribs. She was likely already making him suspicious. 

Pushing herself off the bed, she announced, “All done!" She needed a moment to compose herself as she replaced the jar on her bedside table. “I suggest you take a nap. Let it do its work.”

It would give her a little time to work through all the thoughts and feelings she had surrounding having him in her bed. She moved away to sit down on her trunk, giving him the space to get some rest, when his hand caught her wrist. Making her heart sputter. Letting herself be pulled into him. “Will you be here when I wake up?”

'Damn you, Potter!' She wanted to curse, but she did not trust her voice to be even. Just a moment and a very few breaths to compose herself were all she needed. So, in response, Lily leaned down and pressed a kiss on his forehead. She felt the fever burn through him. All he could do now was rest, and she would let him. 

“Sweet dreams, James," she told him, offering a smile that he would not see as his eyes drooped closed. 

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

The Worst Murderer

It’s not that he wants to have killed someone. At least, not exactly. 

James had tried to make light of it the first time he had. 

“It’s like he was trying to die. Fucker stumbled into it, wasn’t even aiming for him,” he’d said, taking a drag from a cigarette. Sirius had grinned, but noticed the way the cigarette trembled slightly in James’ fingers all the same, the way he took a particularly long drag afterward.

He’d reckoned that was just James, though. “Ever the man of honor,” Sirius had mocked aloud but quietly coveted. 

But then, Remus had come back from a mission with a haunted look in his eye a few weeks later. “Flint’s dead,” he’d reported quietly, while the rest of him - his slumped shoulders, white lips - screamed and I killed him. 

There must be something to it, then, Sirius had thought. Killing must change you, no matter the scum at the other end of the spell. He’d tried to use that thought as a comfort, when he’d felt shamefully envious of them. 

Sirius had done a lot of damage, sure. Been involved in countless missions. But no one had died at his hand, that he knew of. And it felt, in the height of war, like he wasn’t pulling his weight. Like he was missing out on the action. Like killing was a right of passage. 

Peter had been predictably squeaky about it when he’d finally done it, trembling and shaking and whimpering. Sirius had thought he was being overdramatic - the man had been crushed by accident, it’s not as though Peter meant to do it… but James had comforted him. Sirius wonders now whether it had all been an act. Or maybe that first accidental kill was the one that gave him a taste for it. 

He wasn’t particularly squeaky about blowing up that street, anyway. All the smoke. The Muggles. That sickening, metallic scent of blood in the air. Peter hadn’t spared much thought about killing twelve innocent people, had he?

Never mind the thoughts he hadn't spared for James and Lily.

For all that he’d secretly wished for his chance to do it, Sirius knows now: killing is ugly. It’s final, it’s dirty, and it rankles the soul. 

He’s sure that if he’d managed it, it would be all the Dementors would leave him to dwell on. He should be grateful he hadn’t. Still, though. As he sits in the cell that will be his coffin, imprisoned as the worst murderer in wizarding history… the irony isn’t lost on him. 

The worst murderer, alright. 

It’s a joke so depressing even the Dementors can’t suck it away.

[loop-deloo]

All good

helllooo its still the 4th for like 10 minutes my time so im doing it

this is a continuation from yesterday i think but can be read on its own for sure (sorry i have no idea how to link other posts) just know that the four of them are all on one bed at the Potters after the Run Away and Sirius just had a nightmare. so CW nightmares, referenced child abuse, and remnants of panic

EDIT i figured out how to link posts i think so here’s Part 1: With my whole heart

for prompt “dream” @wolfstarmicrofic

“Hi, love,” Remus says softly—it’s so so soft and Sirius has never been more grateful, “You back with us?”

“Hi,” Sirius knows he has to say something, can still feel Remus taking measured breaths and James and Peter hovering carefully, quietly. “Hi, sorry, I’m here.”

“No apologies,” Peter whispers, “remember? Not for that stuff.” And James looks like he can’t speak but he wants to and Sirius looks at him fully, with wide eyes and thats what does it. He can only watch as his big (younger) brother’s face all but crumbles. He finds it within himself to reach out because he knows he needs to. After things like this, know James tries so hard to give him space and love and anything he could want. He knows James is not a creature of limited touch but he holds back, for Sirius. So he reaches outing pulls a small smile from nowhere when James looks up questioningly (hopefully). Peter smiles at Sirius, practically beams, when James tucks his head far into Sirius’ side and crushes his hands in between them. Sirius isn’t sure he’s comfortable but he’s also not sure that that’s the point of this arrangement so he lets James be.

“Pete?” Sirius questions, beckoning him to join with just that. It doesn’t take anything more and then they’re all curled up there. Remus doesn’t stop stroking his hair and Sirius can still feel his boyfriend’s heart beating hard and fast below his head even as his hands are steady and his breaths are deep. 

“You ok?” He says it softly, not wanting to startle the hastily formed calm of the night.

Remus chuckles, “Am I ok? Are you joking?”

“Tosser, I’m fine and my heart isn’t eh one thats about to run for the hills.”

Remus cringes, “Oof sorry, I was trying to get it under control.”

“No apologies,” Peter murmurs again, “remember? Not for that stuff.”

“Sorry Pete,” Remus replies, and is already starting to laugh at himself when Sirius pokes him.

“Idiot,” Sirius says fondly. “Seriously, I’m getting worried for your health.”

“Shut up,” And it’s sweet but soft enough that Sirius’ own heart twinges. No one comments on his pun-slip.

“It was just a dream, Moons.”

“It wasn’t though.” 

“It was, I’m here, I’m safe. You’re here, We’re all good.”

“You are, you are. We’re all good. But still, dreams.”

Dreams, Sirius thinks. “I’m here.” He repeats.

[mundrakan]

Prompt: Sidekick

@wolfstarmicrofic

“I've been thinking...” James looked around, knowing about the terror he sowed. “What do you think: who of you is my sidekick?” He clearly had read Muggle comics again, the ones even Evans found dreadful.

“Sirius!” Peter immediately provided. “He is always next to you, when things go bad.” It wasn't quite the compliment, but Sirius rarely minded.

Today he did though. “Nope. Not going to happen. I am clearly equally important. More like a 'Duo Infernale'.”

“Moony then?” Peter asked insolently.

“Nope, voice of reason here... I want nothing to do with trouble,” Remus provided.

“Leaves... me?”

Now Sirius was contrary on principle. “You are more along the lines of evil minion. You are the most devious of us all, people just don't know it...”

“Who does that leave then?”

“Well...” Remus grinned now. “Clearly Pads and I are the centre. Must be James then.”

It was totally unfair to laugh about the face he made. But it felt just too good.

[809-fomalhaut-5a7]

✩ ᚻ—————————————-ᚻ ✩

✧ When Alpha Canis Major starts jokes it always goes like this,

✩ “A drunk man walks into a bar and asks to close a tab-“

Alpha Leonis thinks it’s stupid and reprimands

The dog laughs and barks out “listen!” ,he demands

And it’s said the joke goes like this,

✩“A fool opens a tab but does not get to close it

He tripped on his way out and cracked his skull open on the pavement

In moments free from proprietary enslavement”

The rebel clears his throat and starts again,

✩“A man goes to a bar on west end

He orders a whiskey and downs it like a shot

Not knowing the cyanide swimming in his Jameson clot”

ᚻ“You’re not very good at this kind of game.”

✩”Are you calling me lame? We don’t have an audience.”

ᚻ”No. I’m just stating the obvious.”

✩ “Source?”

ᚻ “Of course. You’re not a very skilled actor, pretender.”

✩ �� Well yeah, I never really got used to you being dead, huh?”

It starts again

It’s said the joke goes like this,

✩“A failure walks into a bar

And wishes he could kill himself once and for all

At the bottom of the lake lies sorrow

So the star drowns himself in another liquor bottle”

✩ ᚻ—————————————-ᚻ ✩

[wolfstargazer]

My style

Quiet. Full of love and sadness. Slowest of slow burns. Lingering glances. Misunderstandings. Missed opportunities. Sexual tension. Era-accurate. Canon considerate. Friendship. Romance. Angst. Drama. Bittersweet. Nostalgia. Flashbacks. Dreams. Some OCs. Teen Marauders. Adult Wolfstar. First Wizarding War focus. Mostly T & M rating. A safe, still place full of tenderness.

Master list

Without You, I'm Nothing (11/? | 29,325 | Ongoing) Remus returns from a trip to Hogwarts feeling desolate and confused. In trying to deal with his grief over Sirius' death Remus is forced to confront the feelings he tried, for so long, to ignore. As his mind drifts back to the years from the past he tries to make sense of the love and the bitterness of the years that have passed. OR Remus Lupin remembers the Marauders Fifth Year at Hogwarts, full of unresolved sexual tension, longing, and coming-of-age angst filtered through the lens of grief. A re-edited, re-post of a classic 2007 Wofstar, Marauder-era fic.

Wolfstargazer Microfics (40/? | 12,694 | Ongoing) Wolfstar-centric microfics created in response to Wolfstar Microfic and other prompts on Tumblr.

Say Hello Wave Goodbye (1/1 | 5,923 words | Complete) A night out in Soho in October 1981. All rain, and smoke, and drink, and sticky floors, and dim red lights, and two men who have nowhere else to hide their desire now their friendship has fallen apart. OR A dual perspective Wolfstar one-shot full of sexual tension, angst and betrayal on the very last night the Maurauders are all together before the terrible events at Godric's Hollow.

Bewitched, Bothered, and Bewildered (1/1 | 2,584 words | Complete | Remus Lupin Fest 2024) It is the Marauders final year at Hogwarts and the Graduation Ball is fast approaching. But Remus doesn't know how to dance. Luckily, he has just the friend to show him.

Patient Potions Master (15/15 | 28,915 words | Complete) It is the beginning of another week during Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts and tempers are once again tested during Double Potions. How will Harry cope with a week's worth of detentions? And will what is revealed during these detentions help him to accept Sirius' death?

More about me below the cut

About me

Adult, first Gen Wolfstar shipper and Maraudra-era fanfic writer from England. I work full time and have three cats. My pronouns are she/her. I'm a neurospicy, ENFJ, triple Scorpio.

I returned to the fandom last year after a long hiatus to edit and re-post my ancient fics. I will also be creating new work with the Marauders and the First Wizarding War at their heart.

What not to expect from my work?

All out smut. AU. Crossover. Wild canon divergence. Fanon characterisations. Modern-day Marauders. Reader insertion. RPF. All out fluff. Muggle Marauders. Omegaverse. Multishipping. MPreg. Tonks bashing. Non-con. Snape erasure.

What pairings can you expect?

My content focuses on the characters of Remus and Sirius. Their relationship, as friends, enemies and more is at the heart of what I write. Other pairings, romantic or otherwise, may be depicted.

Some final things -

My personal perspective of the characters and my headcanon has been formed over 20+ years in the fandom. As such, my perspectives are shaped by my experiences. These may sometimes differ to others, and those of new gen fans. I respect all fans to interpret characters any way they chose, and hope others will treat my content the same.

I do not endorse the views of J.K. Rowling in anyway. Her views are very painful to me and for a long time I had to step back from the fandom as a result. I want my blog and content to be a safe space, for myself and for others. This is my escape from the world.

I have not read All The Young Dudes. I had stepped back from the fandom for sometime when the fic exploded. I am grateful that so many people have found a route into the Marauder-era fandom through this work. I support all fellow creators of content who shape the world and characters in ways that speak to them.

Finally - if you want to know what it was like in the HP, Marauder-era, Wolfstar fandom trenches in the 2000s this article is a great starting point. Alternatively, ask me anything.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Neck - Oct 28 - @rosekillermicrofic - 354 words - Warnings: biting, marking, not explicit

Breakfast was usually Evan’s favorite meal of the day. He liked to get up early and spend his morning slowly enjoying his meal, reading while he ate. Pandora usually joined him, and Dorcas and Regulus got up early for quidditch, so they came in a half hour after the Rosier twins. Barty always showed up with only a half hour left of breakfast. He was very lucky that Evan saved him a plate, otherwise all of the most tasty foods would be gone.

When Barty did finally make it down to the Great Hall, he looked artfully rumpled, his robes slightly askew and his tie missing. He was blinking sleep from his eyes, stumbling a little as he made his way to the Slytherin table. Evan had to hide his smile against his tea cup as he took a sip; Barty was just so adorable in the mornings.

“Morning,” Barty grunted in greeting, sliding into his spot next to Evan and grabbing one of the pastries on his plate to take a huge bite. As he was chewing, Regulus was staring very critically at Barty.

“What the hell is all over your neck, Crouch?” Regulus finally asked, and Barty made a fool of himself by trying to look down to check, before shrugging.

Evan tried very hard not to smirk as he remembered what had happened last night. He had admittedly gotten slightly carried away, but Barty was entirely too tempting for him to take the blame. His neck was pale and long and deliciously unmarked, and Evan felt the primal need to bite and suck. He’d ended up moving in a line across Barty’s throat, leaving a purple and red bruised necklace.

“None of your business, Black,” Barty tossed back, taking another bite of his pastry.

“It looks like you were mauled,” Regulus scrunched his nose up. “Doesn’t that hurt?”

“It’s a good kind of hurt, Reggie,” Barty said through his food. “You’ll understand when you’re older.”

Regulus glared at him, but Evan was beaming, pulling Barty closer to snuggle into his side. He quite liked the look of the bruises, actually.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Lonely - Oct 29 - @rosekillermicrofic - 391 words - Warnings: none

Evan had felt alone for most of his life. Even as a twin, he spent a majority of his childhood alone, while Pandora made friends as easy as breathing. And she shared her friends with Evan, of course, and he got along with them well enough, but they never quite became his friends. When he left for university, he thought he would find a group of friends there, but once again he stuck to his own company. He studied alone, lived alone, ate alone.

By the time he graduated and found a real job, Evan had contented himself with spending his life alone. He’d never been necessarily lonely, despite all of his time being solitary. And then he met Barty.

Barty Crouch, Jr. lived in the apartment next door to Evan’s new apartment. He had seen Evan moving boxes, and he had decided to insert himself and help Evan bring everything inside. Evan found himself quite disgruntled about his forwardness, but he hadn’t interacted with enough people to know how to politely ask Barty to leave him alone.

“You don’t have a lot of things,” Barty pointed out, and Evan frowned. “You don’t have any food, either. You wanna order a pizza?”

“To share?” Evan blinked at Barty. He had never shared food in his life, except with Pandora, which didn’t count because she was his sister.

“Yeah, to share,” Barty snorted. “You don’t even have a television, do you? What do you do for fun?”

“Read,” Evan said, gesturing to the boxes of books that he’d begun emptying onto his bookshelves.

“Boring,” Barty wrinkled his nose. “We should go to my apartment.”

“You want me to come over?” Evan’s eyebrows rose.

“Yeah, why not?” Barty responded. “You seem cool. You read.”

“You just said that was boring.”

“So what? I say a lot of things,” Barty was moving to the door, opening it and holding it open for Evan in the expectation that he followed.

Evan could have shut the door in Barty’s face. He could have said no, and finished putting his books away. He could have picked out one of the books he hadn’t read yet and sat on the floor to read it, because he hadn’t gotten any furniture for the living area yet. Instead, Evan followed Barty through the door and into the other man’s apartment.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Cry - Oct 27 - @rosekillermicrofic - 302 words - Warnings: dacryphilia, slight humiliation kink, explicit sex

Barty was starting to actually lose it.

Evan had been fingering him open for close to an hour, at that point, and Barty was genuinely starting to wonder if he would ever get fucked by Evan. Somewhere around the third or fourth finger being added, Barty had lost count, he had started to actually cry. When Evan noticed, Barty couldn’t see his face from their positions, with Barty on his hands and knees on the bed and Evan behind him, but he sounded smug.

“Are you crying for me, Bee?” Evan cooed. “That’s so sweet of you, baby.”

“Evan, please,” Barty begged, for possibly the millionth time that night. “Please, just get inside me already.”

“What if I don’t fuck you at all tonight?” Evan suggested, twisting his fingers inside Barty and pulling out a deep moan from him. “What if I leave you all stretched out and open for me, and I don’t give you anything?”

Barty whined, his hips shoving back into the motion of Evan’s hand. He was so fucking hard he felt like he was going to die if he didn’t get off soon. More tears poured down his face, he was so overwhelmed. “Please, Rosie, please.”

“Oh, my sweet little slut,” Evan purred, and Barty suddenly felt hot breath against his skin. Evan sucked a mark into Barty’s ass, right next to where his fingers were still pressing into Barty, lighting him up inside. “You’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Barty moaned. “Yes, Evan, anything you want.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Evan agreed, and then he removed his fingers, making Barty cry out at the loss. He wasted no time before replacing them with his mouth, though, and then Barty was being fucked by Evan’s tongue.

Evan was trying to fucking kill him.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Dear - Oct 24 - @rosekillermicrofic - 647 words - Warnings: none

Evan felt awful. He’d stayed home sick from work, and his head was pounding and his throat aching. He was miserable, but he was terrible at relaxing, and spent his time responding to the owl post. He’d received a letter from his mother a week ago that he’d neglected to write a response to because he’d run out of parchment. Deciding that while he was ill was just as good a time to write to his mother than any, Evan searched their entire flat for a spare bit of parchment.

He ended up digging in Barty’s old school trunk, of all places. It was sitting in the corner of their dining room, untouched for several years after they’d left Hogwarts. Evan was hoping to find an old scroll sitting in there, but got distracted by all of the things he found along the way. At the very bottom of the trunk, Evan found a letter addressed to him, and curiously opened it.

July 29th, 1978

Dear Evan,

Everything is terrible. Father is breathing down my neck about the future and Mother is practically a ghost haunting us, with how little life is left in her.

I wish I was with you. Everything is better when you’re around.

I miss you terribly. I miss spending every meal by your side, prodding you to eat a little more food because you’re somehow still lanky and thin. I miss the dorm, and I miss crawling into your bed to bug you. I even miss Reg making fun of us.

I think I’m in love with you. I’m not going to send this letter. I just needed to write those words out on paper. I’m in love with you, I love you, I love you. I will always love you. It’s been driving me mad, lately — not the fact that I’m in love with you, but the fact that you don’t know. I wish I could just tell you. I wish we could live together after school, and I wish you would kiss me, and I wish we could spend forever together.

I’ve gotten incredibly soft since falling in love with you. It’s nauseating. I finally understand Reg’s incessant rambling about Potter. I could talk about you for ages.

I suppose I should stop pretending I’m writing to you, if I’m not even going to send the bloody letter. I thought it would help to put it to paper, but I only feel more longing.

Loveyouloveyouloveyou,

B

Evan folded up the short letter, staring at nothing as he processed the words. He’d never received the letter. He’d had no idea that Barty ever had feelings for him. Distantly, he heard Barty’s key click in the lock and the hinges squeaking as the door opened. He didn’t move from his spot, crouched on the floor by the trunk, still holding the unsent letter.

“Honey, I’m home!” Barty called out, as he always did. He stopped when he saw Evan by his trunk, clutching the letter. “What’s—“

“You were in love with me?” Evan blurted, watching Barty carefully. Fear crept across Barty’s face, but he quickly shut it down, his face becoming a mask.

“For the record, I’m still in love with you,” Barty said. “This doesn’t have to change anything, I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

Evan stood slowly on shaky legs, striding over to Barty and cupping his face in his hands. He pulled Barty’s face forward for a brief kiss, nothing more than a press of lips. Afterwards, Evan rested his forehead against Barty’s, both of them breathing the same air.

“‘For the record’,” Evan quoted, “I’ve been in love with you for practically my entire life.”

Barty laughed, the sound giddy and nervous. “Well, maybe I should have sent that letter, then.”

“Yeah, maybe you should have,” Evan agreed, and then surged forward for another kiss.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Comfortable - Oct 21 - @rosekillermicrofic - 436 words - Warnings: none

Merlin, Barty’s head was pounding. He tripped his way over to the nearest armchair, collapsing into it the a groan. The room was spinning, his head was throbbing, and he wanted to go home — rather, back to his own dorm.

Girls were laughing at him. Barty blinked his eyes back open — when had he closed them? — and glared at Pandora and Dorcas huddled together on a sofa adjacent to the chair he’d chosen to sit in.

“What do you want?” Barty snapped. “I’m drunk.”

“Clearly,” Dorcas snorted.

“You’re ridiculous,” Pandora added. Barty furrowed his brow in confusion.

“Why?” He asked.

“You’re sloshed,” Dorcas pointed out, and Barty nodded stupidly, “And it’s because Evan is sitting with that Hufflepuff girl.”

She gestured over to where Evan had been sitting practically the entire night. A brunette slag in a hideously yellow sweater was leaning far too close to him, but Evan hadn’t done a thing to shove her away. Fury simmered in Barty’s gut.

“So?”

“So, you’re in love with him,” Pandora said, as if it were obvious. Barty blinked stupidly.

“What?”

“Please don’t tell me you didn’t know,” Dorcas said, and then she burst into a fit of giggles, Pandora joining her. They were probably as drunk as he was.

“I’m not in love with Evan,” Barty insisted. “He’s my best friend.”

“Sure, and the love of your life,” Pandora snorted, laughing away at him. Barty watched them titter with growing horror.

He’d always been comfortable with Evan, that much was true. They’d been friends before they even came to Hogwarts, when they’d met as children and got along upon first meeting. Once they did come to Hogwarts, and they were sorted into the same house, Barty and Evan grew even closer. They sat together in every class and at every meal, they studied together, they spent every second of free time together. They even shared a bed sometimes. He could tell Evan anything, even awful things about his father and how he felt about the future his father had planned for him. He didn’t want to work for the Ministry under his father’s watchful eyes. He wanted to spend the future with Evan, living together and working wherever they want. He wanted to be close to Evan, and he didn’t want anyone else to be any closer than he was. He wanted to be Evan’s top priority and his favorite person—

Oh, Merlin. He was in love with Evan fucking Rosier.

“Fuuuuck,” Barty groaned, slouching in his chair. “I am so fucking fucked.”

“Yeah,” Pandora and Dorcas chimed in tandem. “You really are.”

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Swirl - Oct 26 - @rosekillermicrofic - 505 words - Warnings: character has a panic attack

Barty had gotten another letter from his father. He didn’t write very often, only once or twice a year, but each time it rocked Barty to his core. It was a short message: Dear son, Quit acting out in class and earning yourself detention. Your mother frets, and I am disappointed in you. BC. He hadn’t even properly signed the letter Father, for Merlin’s sake.

The words from his father didn’t necessarily both him. But thinking about his mum worrying over him made Barty feel agitated. He begged off to the dorm instead of attending dinner, where he crawled directly into bed without even taking his robes off.

Barty’s thoughts formed a vicious spiral, already swirling entirely out of control. Mum is concerned about him. She’s been feeling poorly, will the anxiety worsen her health? Will he be the reason his mother dies? His father will truly hate him then. Barty couldn’t breathe, his heart pounding between his ears. His body was starting to shake without his consent, his stomach clenching and unclenching repeatedly in a nauseating sensation. He distantly heard the door to the room open and shut, and someone speaking to him.

“Hey, Bee, I grabbed you some food from the kitchens,” Evan called. “Are you not feeling well?”

Barty couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even move, his body locked up and trembling all at once. He wanted to scream to Evan that he was falling apart, he was going to die right there in his bed, probably, but he couldn’t move his mouth to form the words.

“Barty?” Evan questioned, his steps coming closer, and then he was pulling Barty’s covers off and exposing him to the world. Barty was curled into the fetal position, staring forward unseeingly. “Whoa, hey — okay, hold on…”

Barty lost some time for a long moment, his thoughts taking over again until he felt the bed shift as Evan wrapped around him from behind. His arms came around Barty’s body like a gentle cage, comforting instead of confining. His legs tucked behind Barty’s own, warm and reassuring. His face tucked into the crook of Barty’s shoulder, his mouth right by Barty’s ear as he whispered soothing words.

“You’re going to be okay,” Evan said. “I know It doesn’t feel that way right now, but you will. Just breathe through this with me, in and out, here we go…”

Evan coached him through several rounds of slow, careful breathing, until Barty regained control of his heart rate and breathing, his thoughts slowing to a manageable jumble.

“You okay now?” Evan asked softly, still holding him.

“Yeah,” Barty rasped. He had let his eyes close a while ago, and it was helping him feel grounded. “How’d you know what to do?”

Evan cleared his throat a little. “I’ve had panic attacks before. I just did what I thought would help me.”

“Oh,” Barty said quietly. “Well, it really helped.”

“I’m glad,” Evan responded. He shifted closer, and they ended up falling asleep there, the food Evan had retrieved forgotten.

[mightbeimpossiblenotto]

Long - Oct 17 - @rosekillermicrofic - 405 words - Warnings: hair pulling

Between sixth and seventh year, Evan had a boring summer. His father had decided it was time that Evan started taking his future seriously, and signed Evan up to apprentice under him at the Ministry. It meant that Evan had no free time left for his friends, leaving him to survive only on their exchanged letters for the entirety of the summer. Despite his eagerness to return to school, though, Evan was the last one of his friends to board the train and find their usual compartment.

When he walked in, only Barty was inside waiting for him. Barty had been reading a book, but as soon as he caught sight of Evan, he threw it aside carelessly.

“Oh, finally,” Barty exclaimed. “I’ve been waiting for you for ages. All of our friends have abandoned me. Reg is with Potter, of course, and Dorcas went to find McKinnon, and Pandora tagged along to see Lily Evans.”

“That’s not very nice of them,” Evan commented, storing his trunk away.

“Well, I wanted to wait for you anyway,” Barty responded, and when Evan turned back to him, Barty was smirking at him, much closer than he had been a moment ago.

It was obvious what Barty wanted to spend their train ride doing, and Evan was entirely on board — except he was distracted by Barty’s new appearance. He’d let his hair grow out over the summer, some of the strands reaching almost to his chin now. Evan reached up to tuck some of the pieces of hair behind Barty’s ear, fascinated with the way his longer hair moved.

Evan’s throat was suddenly very dry. “Your hair… it’s long.”

“Yeah,” Barty grinned. “You like it, Rosie?”

Evan answered him by surging forward and pressing him against the closed door to the train compartment. Barty moaned against his mouth, his hands coming up to grip Evan’s shoulders tightly. Their mouths connected in a frenzied kiss, and Evan’s hands came up to cradle Barty’s face. His hands slipped through the silky hair, and as he moved them, the strands tangled around his long fingers. He tugged, just a little, and Barty pulled away from the kiss with a gasp.

“Sorry,” Evan apologized immediately, but then he noticed Barty’s wide-blown eyes and flushed face. He looked like sex personified, with his swollen lips and chest rising up and down with his quick breaths.

“Do that again,” Barty demanded, and Evan obliged.