#not evan mildly guilt tripping himself

[habitual-creatures]

Do NOT hurt Evan, he’s done nothing wrong >:(

...

We both know that isn't true...

[florenceandthemachine]

happy chapter! yes I know I missed last week and I've updated the chapter count to reflect. my state is cold as fuck and also somehow on fire and the Big Sad hit me real hard so I had to take a weekend to be dead. love you all.

Chapters: 3/4 Fandom: 9-1-1 (TV) Relationships: Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)

”Alright, Eddie.”

No, it was not alright. It was not alright at all.

“I’m starting to worry about you.”

Eddie felt his bed dip as Buck sat beside him, groaning in response, rolling over in a desperate attempt to hide his shame.

“Chris is about ready to call in for a rope rescue, and you’re still not out of bed. I may not understand why you’re meeting your parents for lunch today, but you are, so get up.”And therein lied his shame. Eddie didn’t need a reminder. His parents had spent all of ten minutes in his living room the night prior—annoyingly vague about why they were there in the first place, insisting that even though they were just ‘passing through’ they still wanted to spend some time with their grandson.

Not their son. Just their grandson. Which was totally fine and didn’t bother Eddie at all.

Eddie had spent every one of those ten minutes clenching his teeth so hard he thought he would pop a crown, but ultimately agreed to their request (maybe a little quicker than he would have liked, but he had done less for more when it came to making sure Chris stayed in bed). As bad as that was, though, he wasn’t sure what was worse—the fact that he was so hesitant to spend some time with his parents, or the fact that the moment they left, all he felt was guilt.

He knew that he wasn’t the crazy one here; but even then, it was hard to ignore how it sounded, feeling so unhappy—so hesitant—to spend time with his own parents. He knew exactly how it looked for him, because what kind of son was chomping at the bit to rip his own parents head off, just for wanting to spend some time with their family?

It should have been a perfectly reasonable request. It should have been something Eddie was happy to do. It should not have been something that set Eddie’s teeth on edge, that tripped up his sixth sense like no other, the soldier's sense that he had developed in Afghanistan buzzing in the base of his skull like a beehive. It felt like something was about to go incredibly wrong, and it felt fucking disgusting to have that reaction triggered by his own parents, but he couldn’t deny that he was afraid history would repeat itself.

Maybe he really was a garbage person.

The guilt only got worse, surprise surprise, after they left and Eddie discovered Buck standing in the kitchen, where Eddie had told him to stay. He had all but forgotten about Buck. How could he forget an entire person?

Garbage person, strike two.

Eddie wound himself in his blanket even tighter, guilt and shame doing little to motivate him on getting out of bed, but his silence was short lived as his blanket burst into flames just long enough for him to yelp and bolt upright before it completely disintegrated. “You—that’s not—you cheater!”

Buck just laughed, the bastard, idly examining the nails on one hand as he shoved Eddie out of bed with the other. “I’m a demon, you dolt. Of course I cheated. Now,” he started, pushing Eddie upright and all but herding him toward the closet, “why don’t you get dressed and tell me what’s really going on?”

Eddie felt a lump sink into his stomach as he stood up, a harsh breath coming out of his nose as he yanked a pair of pants off of a hanger.

“I’m scared, Buck.”

Either out of shock or respect, Buck remained silent, and Eddie could only spare a glance over his shoulder before he ducked his head, dressing haphazardly. “The last time I saw my parents they tried to... to take him. They were trying to take him from me, and my response was to literally pack Chris up and move across the country. They didn’t reach out for years—it’s been years, Buck—not when Abuela broke her hip, not when Chris changed schools, not when Shannon died. A year goes by, and nothing. And then they send a card, and then I meet you, and now they’re just... here again. And I think they’re going to try again, I think they’re going to—“

Eddie looked down at his hands as he felt the fabric of the shirt he was holding tear beneath his fingertips, staring at the hole, like he couldn’t believe he had just worried a hole through it. He looked up to Buck, guilt and misery written on his face as he tossed the garment aside, hiding his face in his hands as he rubbed at his eyes, dragging his hands down his face shortly after.

“You are going to lunch and I’ll be nearby, but Eddie, listen.” Eddie didn’t realize he was spiraling until Buck stepped forward, grabbing his hands and giving a firm squeeze as he shook his head. When Eddie looked up again, all he could see was Buck—eyes glowing, mouth set, teeth maybe just a little sharper than they were a moment before. “I will never, ever let them—or anyone else—take him from you. Ever.”

--

“…and Mark says that Washington has one of the biggest volcanoes, but I don’t think that’s true. Ms. Flores and Mr. Beeman says that Mars has volcanoes too, even bigger than any of the ones we have here on Earth!”

“I’m sure it does, buddy. Maybe that’s why it’s the red planet? All the magma?”

“No, Dad, the magma is underground, when the volcano erupts it turns into—hey!” Eddie had a smile on his face as he reached over to steal one of Chris’ fries, grinning as his kid squawked, pushing his dads’ hand away playfully. Their afternoon together had started easy enough; Chris had stolen the show easily, directing the conversation through himself in that effortless way kids managed to do, talking about his school, his friends, his day to day. To this day, Eddie would never understand how this kid had him wrapped around his finger so easily—all it took was the bat of an eye for Eddie to swing through the drive through on the way to the park, and suddenly he was meeting his parents at a picnic table near the playground with arms full of chicken tenders and fries.

Not a great look. Whatever.

Chris had been every bit as ecstatic to see his grandparents as Eddie knew (feared?) he would be, propelling himself forward at a speed that would have made Eddie panic had Buck not spent some significant time over the past few months working on Chris’ physical therapy.

He wasn’t sure if it was a blessing or a curse, how easily it was to use his son as a distraction from whatever nightmarish scenario his parents wanted to bring up, but even that grateful moment was cut short as his father chuckled, reaching forward to tousle Chris’ hair playfully.

“Mark, Flores, Beeman, I can’t even keep up anymore kiddo. Sounds like you’ve had a busy third grade in your new scho—“

“Fourth grade, dad.”

“What?”

“Fourth grade, Dad. Chris is in fourth grade.”

Eddie regretted the words the moment they left his mouth. As good as it felt to even attempt to put his father in his place, he could feel the exact moment that both of his parents swiveled their laser-like attention to him. They were smiling, sure, but Eddie felt like he was back to being a kid again, waiting for the inevitable slip up that would get him grounded.

“Fourth grade, right.” Eddie smiled tensely as his father nodded, gesturing between he and his son. “Of course, we would know that if you bothered to call once in a while. We don’t hear from you on Christmas, birthdays, nothing.

“You know, you can always call us too, not send some letter on the anniversary of my wife’s death like a complete—”

“If we didn’t hear from Pepa regularly, how would we know that you and Chris were even alive?”

“Dad—“

“But we’re doing good.”

Eddie felt his jaw click shut as Chris spoke, his heart swelling with pride as both of his parents turned their gaze again. His mother at least had the decency to look mildly guilty—his father, no such luck.

“Of course you are, kiddo. We’re just trying to make sure that your dad has enough help. There’s been a lot of big changes since you both left Texas—two new schools, new grades, new teachers, your father’s new job, and—“

The death of Chris’ mother, Eddie’s mind provided, angry once again that Shannon was being so disregarded by people who were supposed to be her family.

“Yeah, but we’re still doing good.” Chris said, not looking up from the fries he was dunking into ketchup, smearing only a little bit on his upper lip as he shoved the handful into his mouth. “Dad says that sometimes the hard things make us stronger, but things aren’t even that hard. And Buck says that I have a lot of, um. Initiative! And they both say I’m perfect, so that’s good.”

Eddie didn’t hesitate. He didn’t freeze as his parents turned back over to him, and he certainly didn’t feel his heart sink into his stomach. He just… was trying to un-swallow his tongue, was all. Buck had been the one topic that they had somehow danced around, and Eddie wasn’t sure if he should have been thankful or not that Chris ripped that bandaid off.

He was afraid, to be honest, of that particular aspect of their new lives coming to light—there were few wounds that Eddie’s parents loved rubbing salt in more than his parenting and his financial situation, and suggesting that he had private help for Chris? That was certainly something that hit both of their favorite topics.

“Buck?”

Even if, you know, he had sold his soul instead of provided a monthly stipend.

“Who is Buck?”

“Buck’s great!” Eddie felt himself finally breathe as Chris picked up the slack, his cheerful demeanor impervious to the doom and gloom swarming around both of his grandparents right now. “He’s really smart, and he’s super nice. Plus he makes Dad laugh, which is also nice. And he taught me how to make cootie-catchers! Did you know that they can see into the future?”

Eddie wasn’t panicking. He definitely wasn’t panicking. He definitely wasn’t looking between his mother and his father, trying desperately to come up with something, some excuse, some way to explain the strange name that called Chris perfect and made him laugh.

...Buck really did know how to make him laugh, though. And he did love Chris, that much was clear. And those two thoughts were the only things buzzing around in his head when he opened his fat mouth.

“Edmundo, who is—“

“Buck is my boyfriend.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the moment afterward—his father turned a lovely complexion of purple and red while his mother looked like she had literally seen a ghost, which, hey! Not that far off from the truth. Eddie wasn’t sure if he was just in shock, or if he was having a stroke, or what, but he suddenly felt heavy, grounded for the first time all day, firmly planted in the moment.

So, Eddie decided that Buck was, as of ten seconds ago, his boyfriend. It… made sense, in a way. Fuck, they were basically co-parenting his kid. Chris absolutely adored Buck. And Eddie knew they were sexually and romantically compatible, hell, he knew Buck intimately from his teeth right down to—

“Buck is your what—”

“Buck!”

Eddie was getting very, very tired of being caught by surprise, so it was actually exhausting to have yet another rug pulled out from under him. He turned his head as Chris called out and almost fell out of his seat, seeing who else but the demon in question striding toward them, smiling like the sun,

Honestly, at this point, Eddie should have expected yet another whiplash, but nothing could have prepared him to turn around and see Buck, striding toward him with a big smile on his face, wearing what Eddie could only describe as a “meet the parents” outfit.

If there was another reason as to why Buck would be wearing a sweater vest in California, Eddie would love to hear it.

At the very least, he wasn’t the only one who was shocked. His parents had similar slack jawed looks on their faces as Chris raced toward Buck, who easily wrapped Chris in a huge hug with a “Hey, Superman!” before setting Chris on his hip easily.

Eddie didn’t realize that he was up until he was already moving, trying to think of how he could explain this, but Buck was quick on the draw—keeping Chris balanced in one arm, he drew Eddie in easily with the other, kissing his cheek, murmuring against his skin easily.

“Thought you could use some backup from your boyfriend.”

...oh, right. Demon. Probably heard the whole thing. Cool, that was definitely a cool thing and not embarrassing at all. Eddie felt his own hand fall into Buck’s as they started to walk back toward his parents, a weight writhing in his stomach, only partially subdued by the warmth burning pleasantly through his bones from the small contact he shared with Buck, looking over as Buck set Chris back down, grinning at the giggling ten year old like he wanted nothing more out of this life.

“Mom, Dad, this is Buck. Buck, these are my parents.” Eddie was half tempted to let the moment stew in a silent awkwardness before starting introductions, but Buck spoke up before he could do anything, extending his now-free hand to Eddie’s father first. “Evan Buckley, Eddie’s told me a lot about you. Glad to meet you both.”

Huh. Eddie never thought to even ask if Buck had a first and last name. He always thought it was just, ‘Buck’.

It was comforting for him to see the good, Catholic guilt push both of his parents to accept the greeting with an incredibly pained smile and a handshake of their own, as much as he knew they both wanted to pretend he wasn’t there.

“So! Evan.” His mother started, always the diplomat. “What do you do?”

--

“I’ve known I was bisexual from, like, sophomore year. I brought boyfriends home in highschool! Why is this so hard for you to wrap your head around?”

Long since abandoning the idea of civility, Eddie’s voice was tired, watching as Buck pushed Chris on the swingset across the park from their little picnic bench. Chris had all but dragged Buck over there, subconsciously (or maybe consciously, though Eddie hated thinking of that) feeling when Eddie needed some time to yell at his parents.

Which he definitely, definitely wanted to do. Because Buck was a fucking delight, he answered every question perfectly, he complimented, he flattered, he smiled, and his parents had given him absolutely nothing back.

Now, he was actually finding himself… jealous. Because he would have sold his fucking left leg to just be over there, with his kid and his… Buck, instead of here, with the firing squad. Watching the two of them together was nice, though, definitely a memory he would treasure later—right now, it was providing just enough serotonin to keep him from jumping off a bridge.

“Because you’re not like that, not really!” His mother’s voice was pleading where his fathers had been firm, but Eddie couldn’t really tell the difference between the two when they were both parroting each other. “Eddito, you can’t expect us to believe this is just... happening now. In highschool, that was one thing. I am your mother, we are your parents. No one knows you better than we do!”

Eddie threw his hands into the air, turning it into a wave at the last moment when Chris looked over, trying to keep his face relatively neutral. “Mom, you don’t know the first thing about me, apparently, but I’m starting to think that might go both ways. Maybe I don’t know the two of you, either. For starters, I had no idea my parents were so fucking mean.”

The innocent look his father shot back at him made him want to puke. “Eddie, I can’t help it if pointing out the truth seems a little mean to you. That woman leaves you—”

“That woman was my wife, and she died, next topic.”

“—leaves you,” his father repeated, ignoring what Eddie had said yet again, “and now I’m supposed to believe that you, what. Decided that instead of finding someone who could give Chris what he needs, you just looked for the first man waving a rainbow flag and that was that?”

“Dad, I swear to God, if you insult Buck again we’re done for the day.”

If Eddie was surprised by his own assertiveness, he was alone in that—his father wasted no time in scoffing, shaking his head.

“I have every right to criticize someone spending that much time with my grandson, Edmundo. When was the last time you and Chris went to service? Because if it got around that you were hanging around with someone like that—"

Honestly, there was a certain level of irony here that Eddie had to appreciate. His conservative, religious parents didn’t like his boyfriend (and, wait, how had Eddie attached Buck to that word so easily?)—not because he was a literal demon from Hell, which would have been a perfectly reasonable thing for two good, God fearing Christians to dislike, but because he was a man.

“Hey, Chris, we gotta get going! Come say bye, buddie!”

All that aside, the stunned silence that followed as his father struggled to find his voice was sweet, so sweet, even if it was incredibly short lived.

“Really, Eddie? One little disagreement and you’re just going to walk away? We don’t see Chris for two years, and the first time we visit is when you decide to—”

“Chris is going to come over and say goodbye.” Eddie interrupted, voice dangerously low as he looked up to where Buck was helping him down from the jungle gym. “If you try and play him against me with this, you will lose. If you try to play him against Buck, you will lose and I will laugh at you. But we are going home now, and if you give him any grief about that, if you try to make him feel bad that you don’t come up to visit more often, if you do anything that puts a frown on his face, that’s it. You will never see him again. Ever. And I’ve already kept one promise to you once in the past five minutes, you wanna push for two?”

Eddie wasn’t sure if he was burning that bridge or crossing it, but he was all smiles when Buck and Chris rejoined them, easily slotting himself against Buck’s side as his mother and father each hugged and kissed Chris’ head. Eddie may have let his eagle eye slide a little bit—he could tell my Chris’ giggling protests that they weren’t saying anything uncouth, and even if they were, he knew Buck would put a stop to it before anything else.

Waiting until his mother released Chris, Eddie leaned and kissed Buck on the cheek, tilting his head back to the truck. “Chris, you wanna go with Buck and get buckled in? I’m gonna walk your grandparents to their car.”

Chris took off happily with Buck in tow, and Eddie allowed himself a moment to feel all warm inside watching Buck take Chris’ hand happily as they walked away before he had to turn and face his parents once more. He wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or not that his mother was first to speak, pleading with him while his father unlocked and started their car. “You don’t need to be so sneaky to talk to us, Eddito. You know your father and I just worry.”

“If you want to talk sneaky, let’s talk about your spontaneous road trip to Los Angeles. Have you talked to Abuela? Or Pepa? Because Buck’s met them both, and they both love him. Have you even thought about visiting with them while you’re out here?” Eddie asked, the look on her face answer enough. Eddie sighed, shaking his head as he turned to his father, waiting to see what kind of explanation he would try and bury this in. “You dragged Mom a thousand miles just to interrogate me but you won’t even see the rest of the family?”

He felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as his mother shut the door to the passengers seat of the car, and Eddie found himself wishing he could just tune this entire topic out as easily as she seemed to when his father met this gaze again.

“I am just trying to get you to do what is right for Chris.”

“That’s just it! I am what’s best for Chris, and I don’t understand why you can’t accept that. He’s my kid, mine, and if you can’t trust me to do what’s best for him,” Eddie paused, “then I don’t know what I can do to get that across.”

He shook his head as he started to walk back to his car. He had really, really hoped that would be the end of it, but he was well aware that would require luck, which he did not have, his father's voice calling after him making that painfully clear.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Eddie. When your little… mistake comes crashing down, we will be the only ones here for Chris! You can’t just turn your back on family!” Eddie felt his hackles rise as he walked away, ears ringing as he dug his heel into the dirt and looked over his shoulder.

“You turned your back on us—on me—a long time ago.” Eddie’s voice was low as he opened his door, slumping into the driver seat like a string had been cut, hands shaking as he started the truck.

--

“What was your family like?”

Eddie’s voice was soft from his place against Buck’s side, tucked up under one of Buck’s arms, the warmth from the demon eliminating any need for a blanket.

Eddie had made it exactly three blocks (just long enough to be out of view of his parents) before Buck had demanded he pull the car over so they could switch. He was more than happy to give up any responsibility, sliding into the back seat beside his kid, letting himself be completely engrossed in whatever Chris was listening to for the rest of the ride home.

Buck had been the one who drove them home, made dinner, entertained Chris while Eddie showered. Buck was the one who helped with everything along the way just like he always did. And now Buck was literally, literally anchoring him into reality, a comforting weight along Eddie’s side.

He couldn’t tell what Marvel movie was on—honestly, he had kind of stopped caring about any of them after Black Panther—but they were still Chris’ favorite, and he was sure that Chris would have been livid at them for talking if he hadn’t fallen asleep in the first five minutes of the movie. He wanted to save the moment like a snapshot forever; Chris’ head against Buck’s thigh, sprawled out over the both of their laps, his soft snores doing little to mask Eddie’s question (or Buck’s snort in return). “Eddie, my parents were like... completely crazy. Yours are getting up there, but mine were insane. My mom...” Buck shut his mouth as Chris shifted, waiting until he was settled to resume.

“My mom is the reason I got into this position in the first place.”

Eddie felt his face fall as Buck spoke, repositioning himself to sit up a little straighter beside Buck, eyes trained to the demons’ face. Buck was smiling, a sense of bitter irony on his face as he pushed some hair from Chris’ forehead. “When my dad died, my mom... didn’t take it well. She kind of fell off the deep end. Maddie was lucky, she got out before the shit hit the fan. Anyway, my mom and I tried everything—therapy, grief counseling, the power of prayer—seriously.” Buck said, a smile on his face as Eddie laughed, shoulders shaking.

“You’re such an ass.” Buck said, but he was smiling as well, shaking his head. “Anyway, when that didn’t work, my mom tried the other route. She was, like, off the deep end at that point. Talismans, ouija boards, drugging herself up to talk to the dead. I probably should have turned around when I came home to find a pentagram painted on the floor, but.”

Buck shrugged like this was the easiest thing in the world to announce, but Eddie had long since stopped laughing, his jaw a little slack. “Oh, Buck...” He hated how weak his voice sounded, but Buck brushed it off, continuing on.

“No big deal. She sucked at Latin, turns out. I got these devilishly good looks, and she got torn apart by hellfire.” Eddie choked on a laugh as Buck beamed at him, because of course he would be making a pun at a time like this. He stifled the rest of his laugh as Buck squeezed him a little tighter, shaking his head as Chris let out another little snore.

It was easy enough to maneuver Chris into his arms, carrying him to his bedroom, though he certainly wasn’t about to object to Buck’s abject closeness, less than a half step behind Eddie as he put Chris to bed. It wasn’t until he stood to leave did he actually see the look on Buck’s face as he tousled Chris’ hair and said goodnight; it was incredibly soft, dopey even, and the only reason Eddie could make that comparison is because Hen had told him plenty of times that was the same way he looked at Chris.

He just never thought he would see that look on someone else.

Eddie kept his voice low as he closed Chris’ door, starting the walk back to his own room slowly, swaying easily in step beside Buck as he scratched at his head. “Do you remember, when we met, you told me—“

“How incredibly hot you were, how good you were with your tongue, how—“

“Jesus, Buck, no, you fucking pervert. I was going to say, you told me that I wasn’t being normal about this.” Eddie said, and Buck hummed, his hand idly reaching out toward Eddie’s. “What are most of your contracts like?”

Buck snorted as he tugged Eddie into the bedroom, turning off the television, the lights, even locking the front door with a wave of his hand. “I’ve never fucked another contract, if that’s what you’re asking.” he started, pulling the sheets down with another wave and a laugh as Eddie threw his shirt at Buck’s head. “God, Eddie, they’re fucking assholes. Everyone’s power hungry, or money hungry, or just stupid as fuck, seriously. In like, a whole decade, I’ve never had anyone make a contract for someone else before. But you…”

Eddie looked up as Buck pulled him closer again, planting a kiss on his lips. Part of Eddie wanted to shy away, wanted to say the boyfriend thing had all but been an act, but he had given up on that about thirty seconds after Buck told his father to fuck off.

“Even when you were drunk, you only cared about what was best for your son. That’s why it was so easy for me to make a contract with you. Seeing how good of a person you were, how much you loved your kid? No question.”

Buck’s voice had dropped down low as he sunk into the bed, making grabby hands at Eddie until he followed suit, finding himself fitting perfectly in the crook of Buck’s shoulder, resolutely not thinking about the flat plain of muscle beneath his hand as he wrapped an arm around Buck’s midsection. Eddie felt his eyes wander across Buck’s face, his lips, the smooth line of his neck to the little gem on his necklace. “You really think I’m a good father?”

“Eddie, come on.”

When he looked back up at Buck’s face, Eddie felt a spark burn through his spine, meeting Buck’s glowing eyes for the third time in three months and the second time that day. Eddie wasn’t sure who moved (okay, he was definitely the one who had moved) but the kiss was soft, a barely there brush of lips, a pressure that set Eddie’s lips on fire.

“You’re amazing.”

[james-pottr]

˜”*°•.˜”*°• 𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕡𝕪 𝕓𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕖𝕕 𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕞𝕒𝕤 𝕛𝕖𝕟𝕟𝕒 ( @marymacd​ ) •°*”˜.•°*”˜ 

“Wait, start again for me. It’s called a what?”

“A television, James.”

“A tellyvisor?”

The heavy sigh that bursts from Mary’s mouth is almost enough to make James laugh; a small smile of amusement already playing at his lips. Her normally placid and kind expression had crumpled with exacerbation and James only wished he was doing this on purpose so that he might stop.

In all truth, Mary had offered to do something exceptionally kind for him, and he hated that he was being such a bother about it. She was, after all, trying to prepare him for the Muggle world the best she could.

James knew that he could have always asked Lily, who had a far more interesting way of rewarding him for correct answers, but the whole point of such an exercise was to surprise Lily. James wanted to increase his knowledge of Muggle things and ideas so that he might make a good impression on the Evans’. He knew that his natural charm should be enough to win them over, but he was nothing if not an overachiever.

And that was where Mary had come in.

The last thing that James wanted to do when meeting his girlfriend’s parents was to embarrass himself, or them, or Lily with his lack of knowledge. Nor, he supposed, did he want to give her sister any more reason to hate his guts.

(Though with the way Lily spoke about Petunia, he had a feeling she would hate him regardless).

So with that in mind, James had set his plan in motion.

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕺𝖓𝖊: 𝕲𝖊𝖙 𝕸𝖆𝖗𝖞'𝖘 𝖆𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

This had been simultaneously the easiest and hardest part of the whole endeavour. How could he get Mary alone without arousing suspicion from just about every single one of their mutual friends? He liked Mary, he really did, and he knew he could probably call her his friend, but there was no pretending that she wasn’t Lily’s friend first.

This wasn’t like with Marlene, who had always been equally James and Lily’s at the same time, nor was it like Sirius, who James was pretty certain still didn’t trust Lily completely, despite the fact James was head-over-heels. Not that he’d acknowledge it to his best friend’s face, but James had a feeling Sirius was behaving rather like a small child who didn’t want to share a toy. 

Instead, it was more like Mary had always been on the peripheral of James’ world. She wasn’t practically family like Marls, nor was she the centre of his fascination like Lily. She was just...Mary. Solid, dependable Mary and someone James was pretty glad he was getting to know.

But growing friendships aside, it wasn’t like he could just be like “Oi, Macdonald, need to speak with you” without arousing suspicion and Merlin apparently forbid she ever study alone.

So desperate times called for desperate measures.

He jinxed her shoes.

Not drastically. Just enough that she would trip over her shoelaces and drop her belongings everywhere. And okay, maybe he had timed it right before Lily had a meeting with McGonagall and when Remus was out sick, so that James was the only one around that could swoop in like a true gentleman and save the day.

It was hard not to pump his fist in glee at how well it worked.

Mary, however, seemed less than pleased.

“Tell me you had nothing to do with this,” she had said suspiciously as he ducked down to scoop up the scattered pieces of parchment. James tried his best to look as innocent as possible, but there was a strong chance he just came off mildly constipated. His attempts lasted only a few more seconds before he gave in with a deep sigh and a crooked grin. He’d only just convinced Mary that he wasn’t as much of an idiot as she thought he was; they didn’t need to be taking backwards steps.

“I need your help,” he said, not bothering with her question. They didn’t really have to get into the logistics of the whole tripping jinx, did they? Mary’s whole face seemed to crumble with confusion and as he clamours to his feet, James began to explain, his hands already waving a mile a minute.

“I need you to help me not make an utter prat of myself in front of Lily’s dad.” he spluttered finally, and realisation slowly sank into Mary’s expression. It seemed to take a fair bit of convincing to win her around - although James had a feeling she was just prolonging it to stir him up - as well as at least two strange looks from Sirius when they finally emerged from the classroom, but James was pleased with the progress.

𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕿𝖜𝖔: 𝕷𝖔𝖌𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖈𝖘

If James had thought trying to get Mary alone long enough to seek her help was hard, it had nothing on their attempts to actually hold their secret Muggle Studies meetings. Sure, Mary could have just thrown a textbook at his head and told him to read, but James had liked the thought of being taught by someone with actual experience, and he had a feeling that Mary liked the idea of getting to boss him about for a bit. 

The trouble was, of course, they had quite possibly the neediest group of friends he had ever seen. James loved his friends, he did. He would die for Sirius and Remus and Peter, had done many an illegal thing for them, and obviously, Lily and Marlene were the lights of his life in romantically and platonic ways, but did they all have to be so up in his business all the time? 

(Thinking such a thing caused many a restless night of guilt in the weeks following).

The last thing James wanted was to be caught ‘sneaking’ around with Mary, even if their intentions were completely innocent. It was bad enough some of the wankstain Slytherins had already started suggesting James had a 'thing’ for people of a certain blood-status. He just figured that they weren’t smart enough to recognise what a friend was.

So James did what James did best: utterly bullshitted an excuse.

“I’m helping tutor her in Transfiguration. My Head Boy duties and all,” he spluttered one evening after they had run into Lily and Marlene in the halls outside the library. 

Were looks able to kill, James had a strong feeling the one Mary had shot him in response would have murdered him at least four times over. It wasn’t like he could tell them she was tutoring him? A) That would give away the whole plan and B) everyone knew Lily was the one who ‘helped’ him.

“Nothing too huge,” he had continued to say, feeling the way Mary had twitched beside him, as if she wouldn’t mind clocking him upside the head if given the chance. “Just a bit of revision. But...erm...she gets...I mean I get a bit nervous if too many people are watching my teaching abilities, so if we could just get this done and all meet up for dinner later?”

James had waited a few moments to see if either girl in front of him was about to protest what really was a pretty shitty excuse, before he spun on his heel toward the library. Sure, Mary would probably be subjected to a bunch of questions when she got back to her dorm that night, and okay, James himself was certainly going to get interrogated by Marlene later, if not by Lily at the same time, but for that moment, they seemed to have gotten away with it. 

(The unnecessarily hard poke Mary had delivered to his spine in response suggested that they had not).

And all of that had lead to:

 𝕾𝖙𝖊𝖕 𝕿𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Underneath his blase and too-cool-for-this attitude, James was a good student. A lot of it was his natural desire to show off or his need to prove something to Professor McGonagall, but he did genuinely enjoy his schoolwork for the most part.

Unofficial Muggle Studies, however, was not where his talents lay.

Mary, to her credit, was doing the absolute best she could. Their usual table in the library was regularly covered with every book on Muggle customs she could find, many of which were wide open to the relevant pages. What they both hadn’t countered for, though, was how complicated everything then got.

“So the televisor-”

“Television.”

“It shows pictures? And they move like wizarding pictures?”

“Almost. They’re a video, so they move and have sound. There’s different channels, so different things can be playing at once. Like the news might be on, or a film, like how the wireless has different stations or programs.” 

“And the televisor-”

“Television.”

“Television. It uses ecclectrisity?”

“Electricity. And yeah. You plug the cord into the wall-socket, erm…”

There is a long pause as Mary flicks through the pages of a book, trying to find the correct diagram before angling it toward James, pressing her fingernail to each picture in turn. 

“This is a wall-socket where the electricity comes from, and this black tube is the cord, and then this on the end is the plug. The prongs-” James smirks. “-stop it, not your daft nickname. The electrical prongs go into the socket, and the outlet sends electricity to power the television. Following?”

The look on James’ face, however, suggests that she had lost him at the mention of his aforementioned daft nickname, and was not following her at all.

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes and bop James on the head with a textbook at the same time, Mary chews listlessly on her bottom lip instead.

“I don’t really think you need to worry about knowing how the television works. Just don’t go all goggle-eyed at it if it gets turned on. Her family know you’re a wizard anyway, that you might not understand this stuff.”

James shrugs his shoulders in response. He wasn’t certain as to why he was so desperate to get their approval, other than wanting the Evans’ to understand that he wanted to be a part of their world as much as Lily was a part of his...of theirs.

“I s’pose,” he says listlessly, before shooting Mary a cheeky grin, one that she immediately seems to brace herself against. “How about instead of all this televisor and eccclectricty stuff, we go down to the pitch and practice that no-brooms Quidditch game you showed me?”

“I showed you two, and neither of them are called ‘no-brooms Quidditch’, James.”

“Fine. Please, oh wonderful Mary, can we please go down to the pitch and play soccer?”

“Do we have to?”

“It’s a teaching and learning opportunity.” 

Mary’s facial expression does nothing but express how little she believes what was coming out of James’ mouth, but she stands up, shaking her head regardless, a small smile playing at her mouth as she does so. At least he’d learnt something, she supposes. 

There’s an extra spring in James’ step as they leave the library, having neatly stacked their mess of books on the table behind them, and he can’t help but bump Mary’s shoulder fondly with his own as they walked. “What if we played soccer on brooms?” he asks eagerly, practically bounding down the stairs, much to Mary’s chagrin.

“James, that’s practically just Quidditch,” she splutters, moving to catch up, only to be greeted by a very wide and crooked James Potter smile. 

“That’s exactly the point,” he declares, and despite the fact she still thought him to be a bit of an idiot, Mary can’t help but smile at his enthusiasm.

Maybe, she supposes, they could be friends without the Lily-factor after all.

𝕖𝕥 𝕗𝕚𝕟