#poly! marauders angst | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sunnami · 3 months ago

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the 5 times you did (not) love each other and the 1 time you did.

summary. as the title suggests. this one was a request! i hope you enjoyed my version of this anon.

pairing/s. poly!marauders + lily / reader.

wc. 4.1k

tags. hurt/comfort, angst, peter pettigrew mention, not proofread, like seriously, fluff, happy ending.

cws: brief mention of violence and blood.

note: i am alive?? crazy. i began this fic, whilst sick, around august, nursing the worst headache ever. i wrote the middle of this fic, sick. and i think it's only fitting that i finished this fic. sick... honestly, i did not proofread any of this, i just know i lowkey love it. after the first one-thousand words, i just spiral and become delirious, so i don't even know what happened here. my first request finished! yippee! and thank you all for 2k :< i love you all so much.

SIRIUS BLACK did not love you—not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

After Peter Pettigrew’s slight against his family, Sirius would never hold warmth or pity for the skittish mouse ever again. He was played for a fool. And, he did not know which betrayal had hurt more. Peter’s—or yours. (Had you known all along of your adoptive brother’s plans? Did you not think for one second that Sirius would, without a sliver of hesitation, put himself in the way of a killing curse to keep you safe? He’d have died before ever letting the fire in your eyes wither to ashes. Clearly, you did not share the same sentiment.)

He wanted nothing to do with you. Ever. And if the rat-bastard dared to show his face, not even Death would know where to put Peter’s body to rest. Sirius would keep him alive until he begged for death—until the idea of living frightened him more than dying. And for you—beholder of his heart, captor of his soul, and co-possessor of his mind—he could only hope that you stayed far away. You had wrecked him—all of them.

He wanted—

He did not know what he wanted.

For when it came to you, Sirius Black was reduced to a man wandering the deserts—mistaking clouds for water, and the sands for grass blades. You had ravaged every fiber of his being; consumed his every thought and word. The most ironic part of all was that if you had been the one standing there—Sirius would have let you Avada him. Dumbledore could scold him in the afterlife—Sirius could care less. He’d have snapped his wand in half and asked someone else to fight you because Sirius had vowed from the moment he met you that he would never harm a hair on your head. He would never be the reason that tears stained your pretty cheeks.

Well, apparently, trust and promises were not worth a damn thing nowadays.

No, he did not love you—even as you stood on the steps of Grimmauld, your hair ruined by the downpour of rain. Your lips bruised and bitten from a nervous habit Sirius had yet to break out of you.

“I didn’t know, Sirius,” you whispered—your voice the only sound falling on his ears amidst all the thunder and lightning. He only saw you. “Y-You have to believe me. If I knew—Gods, I would have told Dumbledore in a heartbeat. Fuck. I thought you knew me better than that.”

He thought so, too.

“Did you know?” Sirius began, taking a step forward and into the storm, a demeaning sneer on his lips. “That when Voldemort stood in our home, your portrait was right behind him? That was all I could look at. If I had died—you would have been the last thing I saw.”

You had not replied.

Sirius grit his teeth. “Go,” he said, voice hoarse.

“Go!” he yelled, grateful for the rain as it masked his own tears as you flinched from the sound of his voice. Not the thunderclap, the lightning strike—but it was him who scared you.

(But you had done so first.)

When you apparated away, Sirius crumbled to the ground and pounded his fists against the asphalts where you were moments ago, screaming and cursing until he saw blood flowing with the rainwater.

It was laughable, really. The way he did not love you.

It was not love that drove him to madness, pummeling Gideon Prewett into a bloody pulp for mentioning your name during a meeting with the Order. He had presumed you to be a Death Eater alongside your brother—Sirius instantly saw nothing but red. (He condemned Bellatrix, his own cousin, for becoming a madwoman. Yet, here he was, unraveled by the very thought of you. The very whisper of your name.)

But whatever it was that had turned him into a fool and a hypocrite all at once, it was not love.

ii.

JAMES POTTER had no love for you—make no mistake about that. He loved love, and he did so fiercely and truthfully. But you and Peter had broken his trust—defiled his loyalty from the moment your brother had brought Voldemort to his doorstep. (Did you know that as he begged and screamed for Lily to hide with their son, Harry—he thought of you? For a fleeting moment, he saw your face, marked by fear and tear-rimmed eyes. And James knew straight away that he would spit on Tom Riddle’s bare feet if only to keep his family safe. If only to see you once more. Alive and well. But, you must not have thought the same—if you had conspired with Peter to sell him and Lily out to the Devil reborn.)

The thought of you breathing was enough to keep James alive.

But, that was not love. It was a mockery of it.

No, he did not feel so much as a twinge of emotion for you. Not even as Mad-Eye Moody brought your limp body back to Grimmauld. It was not love that threatened the magic in his being—that simmered in his blood until the painted walls saw an indent of his fist. (“Poor thing,” McGonagall cooed as she pressed her palm over your forehead. Despite some of the members’ growing distrust for you, you still took an Unforgivable in their stead. “We can only wait. . . Four Cruciatus curses. . .”)

What more did James need to want to rip Peter apart limb by limb?

It was not love that rooted his feet by your side. Sitting hunched on a chair too small for his height, bags beneath his eyes, and the pale of his lips becoming noticeable to everyone who spoke to him.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you lovelessly—hands desperately clutching your own. Sirius stood across the room, arms crossed over his chest, dagger-like eyes waiting for so much as a twitch of your finger. “I’m sorry.”

It was a plea this time.

He only hoped you did not ask him to love you. For James could give you the world, hand-pick the stars, and burrow his body deep beneath the ground if you had asked for it—but he could not love you.

Everyone had told him not to hope that you would wake up. That your pretty eyes would not flutter open, and you would no longer look at him as you had before. But James was stubborn. He was selfish as he was stubborn. He did not love you—but he needed to hear the sound of your voice. And James would take it any way that he could. The soft cadence of a whisper, or a rough utterance of a single word. Molly Weasley told him to accept reality for what it was. (“You need sleep, dear,” the matriarch fussed. “There’s nothing we can do. Look at the Longbottoms. . . We can do no more for this one as we had done for them.”)

In the still of the night, he left his reveries on the cold of your skin. “Wake up,” he demanded.

“Wake up or else you’re the traitor everyone thinks you are,” James hissed.

But his words held no heat—and his heart held no love for you.

Make no mistake about that.

Then, when you finally woke up, disoriented and throat parched—a hazy recollection of the weeks before—James made sure that no more than four people could enter the room. He did not care if a hurricane, or if Voldemort himself—James had faced him once already, after all—threatened to break the door down. You were theirs to protect.

(But not to love.)

“We need to begin the questioning, James, you know that,” said Kingsley Shacklebolt, almost exasperatedly; weary lines written across his face. James would not allow even a toe beyond the doorway. An interrogation meant you had something to do with the attempted murder of James and his family. Whether or not you were innocent, James did not care—he just wanted you safe.

(And a small part of him already knew that you were not your brother’s keeper. Just as they had absolved Sirius of his family’s sins. It would be unfair to not show you the same grace. But before his mind knew that, James’s heart and soul had known the truth all along.)

He found Sirius gently tending to your every need, and already James knew that was Padfoot’s way of begging for forgiveness. The ebony-haired man hung onto your every word. He winced when you flinched, and pressed his apologies to your forehead, rasping for a kindness he did not deserve. Not after what he did. How he turned you away and cursed your name. How they betrayed you.

James did not love you.

But what else could he call the manacles that bound his hands and forced him to his knees when it came to you?

Not. Love.

iii.

REMUS LUPIN could not bring himself to love you. But, he could not love Sirius, Lily, and James either. He was undeserving of such a privilege. But he was not allowed to love you; Remus could only hope that you saw even a shred of worth in him—to wrest each word from his lips and every breath from his lungs. But, he did not love you. No.

Because loving you meant he was to tell you of your brother’s crimes. And Remus could not hurt you like that.

“P-Peter?” you had asked, wearing the eyes of a fretful sibling. Remus lifted his hand to tuck a strand of hair gone astray behind your ear. Bellatrix had done a number on you—just as she had done to Alice and Frank. Remus was fairly certain that Sirius was off on a hunt for his cousin, his mind toyed with by the barbarity of war. What they could not do for the Longbottoms, they’d wring themselves dry to do for you. After the Lestranges’ attack, you suffered damage to your throat and memories. Remus could not bear to see you in such pain.

He could not give you love, but Remus would offer up to you his every limb, and the weary skin upon his bones.

“They. . .” Remus grimaced. How could he act as the bearer of bad news? He’d rather dive headfirst into shark-infested waters. Be anywhere else but here. In fact, Remus would rather snatch you away from the funereal walls, and hold you in his arms in the quietude of dawn, than be the one to bring anguish to your eyes. “They’re looking for him at the moment, love.”

One question lingered in your eyes: Why?

Luckily, Sirius was always the better one at sharpening a blunt knife. “He was a traitor,” he spat like acid. “A traitor to the Order. A traitor to us. He’s no friend of ours. Not anymore.”

But Sirius knew—better than anyone else—how difficult it can be to truly hate little brothers, especially once they’ve gone.

“No. . .” You trembled, almost retching as you sobbed into your palms.

Remus held you then, the front of his shirt soaked in your tears, eyes firmly shut as you trembled and heaved in his arms. The sound of your guttural screams bounced off the four walls, and Remus had to bury his nose in your hair. You were alive. Safe. Breathing. But you felt cold as ice; an empty husk stripped bare for grief to take over. And Remus could do nothing but hold you. (He just hoped that wherever Peter Pettigrew was, Remus would not be the first one to find him. Otherwise, they would not be able to recover even a fingernail from his remains.)

“Hush, love,” Remus whispered into your ear as you cried yourself sick. Mourning the loss of your brother, reeling from the betrayal of a bond that was supposed to be stronger than blood. Remus would make him pay, he vowed as much to you. No, Remus and the wolf in him did not know how to love. But he knew how to hurt. And, that, he’d gladly do for you. His body was for you to use as a shield, his soul for you to strip bare, and his heart for you to thieve and never return.

“Don’t cry,” said James, a shadow cast over his frames. “Not for Peter. Never. Fucking bastard will get what’s coming to him.” He laid on the vacant space of the bed, gently untangling your hands that were pressed over your heart. “I’ll make sure of it.”

They all would.

But not because they loved you.

It was not out of love, Remus had to remind himself in the coming days, when he stayed diligently by your side as you recovered. Daily sessions with the best healer St. Mungo’s could offer—as if James would allow anything else. There were days your eyes would glaze over, your words rough and sluggish, and Remus would try his damndest to make you smile.

It was the least he could do.

For failing to protect you.

But that was not love.

(It was hope. Wretched, disastrous hope as he fell to his knees, and your name in between his teeth.)

iv.

LILY EVANS was a fighter in all the ways that mattered.

And from the very first moment she held Harry in her arms, eyes raking over his wrinkly, bloodied skin; all ten fingers and toes, her soft cries over his loud screaming—Lily knew she would trade her life for his in a heartbeat. Little, lovely eyes that would soon see the world in his own time. Lily adored him. Cherished every tear, snore, and giggle. She knew then, that a mother’s love was entirely different from any emotion she’d ever felt before.

This was proven the first time Harry had gotten seriously ill. A few weeks after the attempted murder on the Potters, Harry was ceaselessly crying—screaming, even, every night—red-faced as he fussed every breakfast and dinner. Lily found herself at wit’s end. Her protectiveness had gone up a hundred measures; wouldn’t let anyone besides family or Madam Pomfrey see Harry. Yet, even with all the draughts and silly-flavoured syrups, Harry wasn’t getting better.

“Lily dear, you cannot actually be thinking about this,” worried Molly Weasley as Lily stood in front of your door, holed away in the room where you had been recovering for the last few days. It would be the first time she saw you since the incident. More than anything she was afraid. Frightened that you would look at her differently. Whether or not that fear stemmed from love, Lily was not concerned. “We can call for another Healer from Mungo’s to have a look at Harry. . . Who knows what might. . .”

Lily held Harry closer to her, lips firmly pressed, attempting to ignore the way his temperature was unnaturally high. “Might what, Mrs. Weasley?” She knew Molly was only talking out of concern, from a mother’s perspective at least. But she knew you better than anyone else. You would never hurt her, or Harry, that much she was certain of. And if you were the traitor everyone else was afraid of accusing you of, a sentence delivered by association to Peter—then let the guillotine fall, Lily would carry your crimes for you.

She remembered ever-so clearly in her sixth-year, you with dreams glistening in your eyes. (“I’m going to be a Healer, Lils! Minnie said I’d be a great one. . . I want to protect those I love. . . I know I can do it. . . Oh, I can’t wait to tell Peter that I’ve gotten recommendations already to work at Mungo’s after graduation.”)

And Lily recalled at that moment, she had felt a different kind of emotion that she had never experienced before. It was not love, of course. Tuney said she was too young and too stupid to know what real love was. But, at sixteen, what else could describe the way her heart fluttered and the way her lips threatened to break out into a smile whenever you lit up talking about your future? (It was just a crush, young Lily told herself.)

Only to be crushed and cast aside in the face of the war, where fighters took their place at the forefront of the lines, mothers and children hid; healers stretching themselves thin to be here, there, everywhere; where traitors walked in plain sight.

“There is no one else I trust more with my life,” replied Lily.

And that was that.

Lily skirted around Molly and opened the door to your room, where Sirius, James, and Remus all stood at attention at the sight of her and Harry. She ignored them, and headed straight to your side.

“Hello, love,” she greeted with all the gentleness she was made of, a smile creeping up to her eyes as Lily watched you turn your head at the sound of her voice. Truth be told, she did not know what her end-goal was in coming here. But being by your side had always made life a little more bearable, like all the illnesses in the world could not bring her down. And so, her magic had instinctively summoned her person to you. She, at least, was relieved to see colour returning to your cheeks, though the red in your eyes had dulled the hues she adored so much.

“Is that. . .?” you croaked.

Lily nodded. “Harry, meet—”

One of the loves of my life, the most loyal and pure witch anyone ever has the privilege of meeting, someone I want to stay in my life forever.

Lily’s smile wilted. “A friend.”

Later, she would place Harry in your arms—her little hope embraced by her dream—and Lily would wonder if it was by pure magic that Harry calmed in your presence.

For if love could hurt and destroy, could it mend and heal the broken as well?

But what a shame, for not one in that room carried an ounce of love for you.

(She would die for Harry, yes—but she would live for you.)

YOU did not love them, either.

The very idea, thought—insinuation—was absurd. (Why, they deserved much better than you, after all.) With hands that failed to protect them, were you even allowed to hold them anymore? Did your heart have the right to breathe for them? You had failed as a sister and a friend—how much more would you have failed as their lover? Well, you’d never know.

Because you did not love them.

Merely wished them happiness and for the world to extend them kindness. For the sun to look brightly down on them, and for time to heal their scars and wounds. For if they were in pain, the earth would stop spinning. But such a request was not borne from love.

Surely not.

Because, then, that would have meant that it was love that teared you apart when Sirius cursed your name, when James turned you away, when Remus could not look you in the eyes, or when Lily—for all your history together—called you a friend.

The whole of you was made by the parts of them. Each memory welded into the crevices of your soul. From the moment you had all found each other in the same train compartment, same common room—there was a shift in the fates that bound all five of you together. (The ties were red, but the thread was not of love.) You did not believe in Professor Trelawney’s talks of providence and destiny.

Because if you did, then why was the universe so cruel?

Falling—not in love—for four people who could very much do without you in their lives. Lacking severely as a sister to the point you had not noticed your brother fading and fading away into the shadows.

Was love that unkind? That merciless?

Then, you did not want to love at all.

Oh, but magic or not, every creature on this earth selfish.

You were no different.

You wanted.

Oh, how you yearned.

“I LOVE YOU.”

You barely had enough time to react before Sirius pressed his lips to the side of your head, arm covertly sneaking around your waist. The sound of the train whistling as parents yelled their goodbyes filled the station. You stood in the midst of the crowd, eyes never leaving one window in particular as you waved at Harry, now eleven-years-old and now off to Hogwarts.

“Quite a random thing to say, husband,” you murmured, leaning into his warmth. “What for?”

“Just because,” he replied in turn with a fiendish grin. “Well, perhaps for choosing us, for choosing me despite all my fuck-ups. For existing. For being the beautiful, wonderful, kind, precious you. I could keep on going, my darling. Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?”

You wrinkled your nose, eyes rolling from fondness. “I love you too, quite unfortunately.”

He only laughed and pulled you closer to him. “Let’s go home.”

–

“I love you.”

In the house built by new memories, warded by stronger protection charms, and filled with warmth and love—James said this to you each morning before he left for the Ministry, promoted after the war as Head of Magical Law Enforcement. Not one foot out of the door until he had showered you in kisses and the symphonies of his heart. James had always been loud, even in his time at Hogwarts. The war had not taken this part of him, and you figured James was too loud to let it be taken from him. He was unapologetically and unabashedly him.

And you had loved him fiercely for that.

“I’ll be home early tonight,” he said, a quiet intimacy washing over the both of you. The early birds of the cottage. “Wait for me?”

“Of course,” you answered without an ounce of hesitation, delicately chasing after his lips. “I love you. Be safe.”

“I love you.”

“Are you saying that to me or are you reading from the book?” you teased from where you laid on Remus’s chest, hours after James left for work, the afternoon bringing you two together in the living room. Lily was in the gardens, and Sirius was in the shed working on his motorbike. It was perfect. You felt the rise and fall of Remus’s chest beneath you, his heartbeat close to your ear. He was perfect. It was a miracle you had not fallen asleep to the tender lull of his voice.

“Both,” he responded, hand coming up to trace the bare of your skin—a miracle you did not crumble or burn instantly from his touch.

You hummed. “Then, I love you, too.” Then, you grinned, lifting your head to stare up at him. “You have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you.”

And, oh, how photographs could not capture the beauty in Remus’s smile as his eyes regarded you with such fire.

“My heart, my light, my desire,” Remus began, one finger ever-so softly tracing the curve of your cheek. “In vain I have struggled, it will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”

–

“I love you.”

Said Lily as she lied in your shared bed, red-nosed and her cheeks pale, sluggish. The Christmas holiday was generous enough to gift her with an unfortunate cold that had been going around the wizarding world. “But, please, go,” she commanded weakly, gesturing for you to join Harry who was stood by the door. “It’s a lovely day outside for making snowmen with carrots as noses and snow angels. Not for taking care of poor old me.”

You rolled your eyes as you sat by her side, swiftly pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And I love you, which is why I would rather much be here, taking care of the prettiest snow angel to ever exist,” you countered, bringing a spoonful of broth to her lips. “Besides, Harry here has something to tell you. He’s made friends at school. One of them is Molly’s little one.”

“Oh, you did?” Lily cooed, before sniffling weakly. “That’s lovely, darling. Tell me all about them.”

“That’s not all, Lily mine,” you began mischievously as Harry’s eyes narrowed at you through his glasses. “This friendship apparently formed after fighting a troll.”

“You what?” Lily croaked, emerald eyes shimmering with concern and near-dread.

“Did you really, Harry?” James popped his head in the doorway, clapping his son on the shoulder before ushering him inside the room. A spitting image side-by-side as they took the empty space by the foot of the bed. “Good boy. Father approves.”

“Of course you would,” Lily shot at him weakly, melting when Sirius then entered the room and greeted her with a kiss to her cheek. “And where are you all coming from?”

“Outside,” announced Remus, tugging his tie from his neck. “Sirius and I took a quick trip to Diagon Alley to get some things that’ll make you feel better, Lily love.”

And as the snow fell outside, lazy winds against the window, your little family gathered in one room, there was one thing you knew for certain.

You loved them.

And they loved you.

a/n: i wrote all 4k words while sick. crazy. but anyway, i wanted to believe in love again so here i am. thank you all so much for being patient with me. i promise to do even better in the next fics!

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

Note

hi maeeee!! can i request a poly! marauders where maybe reader is fighting with only one them and the others are shocked when they find out and try their very best to fix it even though things are quite tense? thanks maeeeee ilyyyy💐💐💐

Thanks for your patience with this one angel! It's not as angsty as I planned when I started writing it, but I hope you enjoy it <3

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.8k words

It’s James who finds you this time. You’re curled up in a corner of the couch, pretending to read whilst secretly feeling sorry for yourself. Your boyfriend sits next to you, touching your shoulder so that you turn to him for a kiss.

“Still upset?” he asks after a peck.

You ignore the complicated, knotty feeling that makes itself known in your chest. “Not at you.”

“No, I know.” James smiles a little, gifting you another kiss. “I’d be coming in here with my tail between my legs if you were. I’d hate to be on the wrong side of either you or Rem’s wrath.”

You stay quiet. You wouldn’t go so far as to call what you’re feeling wrath—that seems a tad dramatic to describe the low flame of vexation you’ve been burning for your tallest boyfriend—but you don’t feel like opening yourself up to the subject with James. You’ve already heard it from Sirius this morning.

“Angel.” James gives your shoulder a cajoling squeeze. “Come on, when are the two of you going to get past this? It’s very awkward sleeping in the same bed with two people who are quarreling, you know.”

“We sleep exactly the same as every other night.”

“There’s underlying tension,” he counters lightly. You roll your eyes, and James laughs. “Oi, don’t get cross with me now, too. I’m just telling you about my lived experience.” He leans his head on your shoulder, all sweetness and treachery. “You’re really not gonna forgive him? You know he’s gonna stick you with Sirius in the divorce.”

You huff a laugh. James grins up at you hopefully. You know there’s some sense to what he’s saying; one of you has to be the bigger person eventually. It had started small, a stupid disagreement, but you and Remus are each stubborn and petty enough to not want to admit where you were wrong. Now you’re more angry with him for being angry with you than for anything else.

When you think of his coldness to you—never mind the fact that you’ve been cold to him in turn—that flame of vexation burns a little brighter.

“I don’t know why you’re over here trying to convince me,” you tell James. “I won’t have any problem forgiving him if he actually apologizes.”

James sighs. You look down at your book to avoid his disappointment.

“Okay, then. But he does feel really bad, so you know. He’s in the bedroom with one of his headaches, and he asked if you were still upset with him.” You look up. James levels you with a weighted look. “Could probably really use a cuddle, if you two were on good terms.”

James is at least only somewhat smug when you abandon your book to go to the bedroom. You pass Sirius in the hall, who gives you a smile and a firm peck on the lips, likely having just left Remus himself. You enter the bedroom expecting to see the curtains drawn, lights off, and your poorly boyfriend in bed, but instead Remus is standing, well lit by the daylight streaming in through the windows, book tented on the bed still made from this morning. He appears as though he was just on his way out.

“Erm, hi,” he says, brows pulled together in the middle. He looks to be studying you. “Are you alright?”

“Fine,” you answer, bemused. “Are…are you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The door clicks shut behind you. You startle at the sound, not having closed it yourself. Then, you watch as a resigned sort of irritation comes over Remus’ features at the same time as it settles into you.

“Pricks.” He moves past you to the door, jiggling the handle. “It only locks from the inside, you twats.”

“Love you too,” comes Sirius’ voice. “You can come out after you kiss and make up.”

“And say you’re sorry!” adds James.

Remus scowls.

“Open it,” you tell him.

“What do you think I’m trying to do? One of them is holding it shut.”

“Let me try.”

“Be my guest.” Remus steps back, letting you have a go at the handle. By putting everything you have into it you manage to twist it, but you can’t get it open even an inch.

“Don’t hurt yourself, gorgeous.” Sirius sounds smug enough to make your face feel hot. “James is holding it on the other side here, a few more minutes and you’ll make him break a sweat.”

You let go of the handle with a huff, turning and stalking towards the bedroom window. You start moving the desk out of your way.

“Would you really rather climb out the window than be in a room with me?” asks Remus. You look over your shoulder, and he’s sitting on the bed, side-eyeing you with his back propped against the pillows.

“It’s not about you.” You shove your hip into the desk, budging it enough for you to get at the window latch. “They lied and made me feel all guilty just so they could lock us in here.”

“What’d they tell you?”

You try to get your fingernail behind the latch. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Sirius had me thinking you were quite upset.”

“Yeah, and probably that I was asking after you, right? James told me you had a bad headache.”

A chuckle. “That was enough to make you come in here looking so flustered?”

“My mistake,” you huff, but it turns to a short whimper when your nail breaks. “Christ, you’d think they’d make these easier to open. What if there was a fire?”

“Don’t go out the window,” Remus says calmly. “You’ll ruin your tights.”

You work another nail behind the latch. “I can’t just let them win.”

“Mm. That’s a bit of a problem for you, is it?”

A bitter coolness settles over you. You turn, crossing your arms. “Something to say?”

Remus picks up his book, cornering a page. “Just making an observation, is all.”

“Remus,” you say sternly. “Don’t act like you’re any better. You could’ve apologized at any time.”

Your boyfriend levels you with a look. “Would that really have made a difference?”

“Yes!”

“Honestly?” He looks like he doesn’t believe you. “All I have to do is say I’m sorry, and you’ll forget about all of this and be completely happy with me?”

You shake your head, bewildered. “…Yeah. I mean, I would want to know that you understood how you hurt my feelings, but yeah. Really, it’s not that complicated.”

Remus’ expression softens. “I do understand that, dove. Do you understand how you hurt mine?”

“I…” You find you can’t quite look at him. “I imagine it’s sort of similar. Because I’ve been cold to you.”

“And because you wouldn’t hear me out,” he says. It doesn’t sound like I told you so, not smug so much as gentle. “But it was a small thing to begin with, wasn’t it? I’m ready to be past it.”

You frown at him. “It’s not about the argument for me. I’m already past that, it’s just everything else.”

Remus considers you. “Would you come here, please?”

You swear you wouldn’t go if he didn’t sound so kind. But you find yourself with your legs curled underneath you on the bed in front of him, Remus coaxing your hands into his.

“I’m sorry I hurt your feelings,” he says sincerely, looking you in the eyes. “It was a silly argument, and I shouldn’t have been so stubborn.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, sizing up whether he means it. “I…also could have been less stubborn,” you admit begrudgingly. Your tone softens. “I’m sorry I hurt your feelings, too. I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, sweetheart.” Remus’ touch coasts from your hands up your arms as he pulls you closer to kiss your forehead. “Are we okay?”

“Yeah,” you say, mollified.

He smiles at you. “Hear that?” he says towards the door. “You can let us out now.”

There’s no response.

Remus frowns as you get out of bed, going to try the handle. The door comes open, revealing and empty hallway.

“Pricks,” Remus mutters.

You find your boyfriends in the living room, James flicking through channels on the telly while Sirius reads the back cover of your book. James notices you first.

“Oh, hello.” He grins at you as Sirius looks over. “All sorted, then?”

You’re half tempted to pretend you didn’t make up just to spite them. When you look over at Remus, you suspect he’s thinking the same thing.

“That was sort of mean, lying to me like that,” you say to James instead.

He looks a bit contrite, but Sirius says insouciantly, “You were never gonna do it by yourselves, babe. We weren’t ready to start divvying up the furniture because you wanted to have a row.”

You kiss your teeth. “I think I might be having a row with you now.”

“What, us?” James’ eyebrows rise above the frames of his glasses. “What for?”

“You lied to us both to make us feel bad,” Remus reminds him, “and then locked us in the bedroom.”

Sirius isn’t impressed. “Well, it wasn’t really locked, was it. If you’d gotten desperate, you could’ve taken it off the hinges. Or just checked again after a couple minutes.”

“She broke her nail trying to get the window open.”

You hold up your torn fingernail as proof. Sirius coos, reaching for your finger and bringing it to his lips while you scowl at him.

“Sorry, lovie. We had a plan to bring you food in a couple hours,” says James. “We were even going to let you out for bathroom breaks if you needed to go.”

“Really, you wrapped it up much quicker than we were expecting,” Sirius praises. He’s still holding your finger, drawing his thumb up and down the side in easy, consoling strokes. “We thought you’d ice each other out until supper at least. I’m quite proud of you.”

Remus scoffs.

“Oh, come now.” Sirius grins. “Give us a kiss.”

You roll your eyes but turn to Remus, extricating your finger from Sirius’ grasp to meet him in a chaste kiss.

The other boys cheer. “There we are!” James tilts his face up expectantly. “Now one for me.”

You and Remus exchange a look.

“No,” you say coolly, “I don’t think so.” The two of you go to sit on the far side of the couch, away from both Sirius and James with you curled against Remus’ side. He looks a tad smug as he puts his arm around you.

“Oi!” says Sirius. “Look what you’ve done, you’ve made James pull his sad puppy face. What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“You lied to us,” you say again, slowly, with emphasis, “and locked us in the bedroom.”

Sirius scoffs. “So dramatic.”

“Oh, that’s rich.”

“Will it help if we say sorry?” James asks meekly.

Remus looks at you. You shrug.

“Maybe,” he says. “You’re more than welcome to try and find out.”

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sleyu · 1 year ago

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thinking about how mean!bf sirius would have a hugeee corruption kink, he just wants to ruin your mind yk

idk maybe its just me

i think mean or not, it is definite that sirius black has a corruption kink and it unquestionably couples with his possessive nature.

just imagine mean bf ! sirius meeting you for the first time. you’re a timid, but undoubtedly kind individual who is meek next to him—fully aware of sirius’ notoriety in his personality and habits. he becomes so awestruck, he has nothing to respond to your unassuming questions aside from the occasional nod or gentle murmur.

he displays a calm, relatively friendly aura until the pair of you begin to become acquainted with each other and ultimately, begin dating. it is only then, that the mean teasing and snickers begin, and his heart bursts with joy at the sound of your bashful whines and protests every time he playfully slaps your ass or tugs your skirt, laughing and pulling you close to him, muttering how his actions are all in good fun and that he’d never let anything actually hurt you.

‘so bloody sensitive. y’know i’d rather die than let someone lay a hand on you, dummy.’

and of course, sirius isn’t stupid. he’s been having lewd, perverted thoughts about you since the day he met you. in fact, it was only the same night that sirius cast a silencing charm around his bed to hide the sinful sounds of him grunting as he fisted his cock, thoughts about bending you over the classroom desk polluting his already depraved mind.

since you’ve started dating, he reckons it’s time to manifest these fantasies into life, especially after noticing how your meek gaze has begun to linger on his broad chest and widen at the sight of his bulging crotch. his inner self beams with joy and crude anticipation every time he feels you pawing at his thighs, looking up at him in despair as if you’re unsure of what you really want or why the throbbing ache in between your thighs is only getting worse.

i think mean bf ! sirius would definitely become dizzy at the sight of you on your knees, hands gripping his muscular thighs, begging him to let you suck his cock or to fill your cunt up. usually he was the one doing the begging, but here you were, pliant, obedient, and desperate for his every touch. he genuinely has to sit down and stare at you while also controlling the immoral urge of forcing his cock down your throat, watching how your eyes widen and become teary as your throat contracts and chokes around his pulsating cock.

he genuinely cannot control himself once he sees you fully submit to him, begging him to give you the exact things you were too shy about even insinuating merely a month ago. it makes him feel so accomplished knowing that he was the one that made your brain all cloudy and fuzzy—that he was the one who got your cunt hooked on the feeling of his relentless, unforgiving cock.

‘sirius—my fingers—they’re not good enough—need your cock in me—jus’ want you to ruin ‘n abuse me—please da—’ as soon as you become close to uttering the last word, he’s already lifted up your skirt and forced his cock inside your aching pussy anyways, groaning into your mouth and fucking you ten times harder than he would have any other day.

‘slut—you’ve become a little slut—oh, fuck—‘n who’s are you, huh?’

it becomes the first time that sirius loses all sense of reason and caution as it has become evident to him that he’s irreversibly corrupted you into becoming just as disgusting and perverted as him.

‘nah, not sirius’, honey, you're daddy’s, yeah?’

‘gross fuckin’ bitch loves that, huh, puppy? you like it when daddy forces himself inside you like that, hm?’

‘hogwarts newest slut, yeah? but only mine, isn’t that right? only i get to ruin—fuck—this whorish cunt—mmm,’

sirius is so mean, he doesn’t even tell you when he’s about to cum :( he makes you cum and afterward, you’re a fucked out mess because he just doesn’t stop. your eyebrows begin to furrow and you can only manage to mumble a quiet ‘sirius?’ before he groans into your neck, breath all hot and heavy, and pumps you full of his hot, sticky cum. all you can do is whine and writhe beneath him as he pushes your knees to your chest and uses your cunt to drain his massive cock.

all the while, he’s reveling in the realization that he has just cummed inside you and that if spells and birth control were forgotten, it would be no surprise if you fell pregnant with the copious amounts of cum pumped inside your spent hole.

‘my dirty girl likes when daddy breeds her, doesn’t she? oh, don’t shake your head, pup, i know you like it—can feel you clench—god—around me right now.’

sirius gets so turned on when you confess that you can’t make yourself cum without him ever since the two of you started having sex. the image of you crying out in frustration at the feeling of your own neediness and the dull throbbing in between your sore thighs—incapable of doing anything without his guidance—makes his cock harden far quicker than it should have.

‘poor thing. my dumb girl can’t do anything without me, can she? your small fingers just aren’t as daddy, hm?’ paired with a faux, mocking frown because sirius black is an asshole that is very visibly ecstatic that you’ll always have to come to him to find a release.

and nothing fuels his ego more than having you beg him to stuff you full of his cum before class begins. he loses his mind seeing the effects of ruining your perfect, angelic interior. his once smart, goody-two-shoes, good-girl has become a conniving slut, her own cunt betraying any logic or rational thinking within her mind :( seeing his shy, perfect-attendance girlfriend begging him to skip class with her to fuck in a dingy broom closet is all it takes for him to bust right then and there.

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writtenbymoonflower · 11 months ago

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how about

and hear me out

room mate! marauders who are obsessed with their shy roomate

oh trust me, hunny, i am hearing you. hope this is okay! shy gn!reader x poly!marauders

cw: nothing really, just fluff, reader is very flustered

1.1k words

Your eyes were blurry as you shuffled into the sunny kitchen. You weren’t used to waking up to the curtains open and breakfast on the stove. You’d lived with people before of course, but none as lively as this bunch. You weren’t complaining, though, you were quickly warming to them, even though you had probably spoken a total of 50 words to your new housemates in the three weeks you had lived with them. Most of these words likely consisting of sorry, excuse me, thank you.

They had been talking though. Ever since the day you met they had been treating you like their best friend. Not even that. They were all best friends. (Though you considered that wasn’t all, on more than one occasion you had caught Sirius with his head in James’ lap, or Remus’ legs swung over one of the other boys. You had also observed a fair number of kisses between the three boys). But rather, they treated you like something precious, like a porcelain doll they were begging to get a hold of.

That thought made you immediately think of the nickname Sirius (or ‘Pads’ as the boys occasionally called him) had stuck you with.

“Hey, dollface! You sleep well?” The coal-haired boy looked like he was itching to beckon you under his arm, but resisted. You were thankful, not knowing if you could survive that.

“It was good.” You hummed, barely legible to James over the sound of his bacon sizzling. You padded over to the breakfast table, sitting one chair away from Sirius and his huge bowl of cereal. No sooner had you sat down when a steaming cup of coffee was placed in front of you by a spindly hand.

“Here you go, dovey.” Remus sat in the chair between you and Sirius.

“Oi, Moons. You’re blocking my view.” You turned in your chair to look behind you at the ‘view’ he was referring to, brows scrunching in confusion when all you saw was the archway. You heard a light chuckle from Remus and a snicker from Sirius as you whipped back around. The possible meaning dawned on you, making you his your heated face in your mug.

“Don’t torture the poor thing.” James scolded, giving a (what you were sure he believed was comforting) squeeze to your shoulder before he sat on your other side.

“I never tortured anyone.” Remus corrected from behind his morning paper, slowly eating a cup of berry-yogurt. “Collective punishment is a war crime, Prongs”

“Leavin’ me to the wolves huh, Moons?” Sirius sassed, sipping on his coffee that was mostly just cream and sugar.

“Oh trust me, I’m sure we all know how much you’d love to be left to the wolf.” James smirked, clearly in on a joke that you had no idea about. He abandoned his teasing to turn to you, fixing a horribly kind look that made your tummy turn to mush. “There is some bacon and eggs on the stove for breakfast, but I’m sure Sirius would let you into his cereal.”

“There’s also yogurt.” Remus looked pointedly to his near-empty cup.

“Oh no, I’m okay. I could never take your food. I’m not hungry anyway.” You muttered into your mug.

“You’ve gotta eat somethin’ babydoll. Can’t have you skipping meals.” Sirius had a playful, if not protective tilt to his tone.

“I’ll find somethin’ don’t worry.” You scrubbed your bleary eyes with irritated cadence, still on the brink of sleep despite the warm caffeine swirling in your system. Thick fingers wrapped around your wrist to pull your offending hand away.

“Gentle, sweetheart.” James scolded lightly. “Gonna hurt yourself like that.” He squeezed your hand before letting it go but it felt oddly like your face and your lungs were being squeezed as well. If this was the boys normal, you weren’t sure if you were going to survive.

You mumbled a sorry looking at the mahogany table like it held the meaning of life, or the extra hour of sleep you desperately craved.

“What’ve we told you? You say sorry too much, sweet thing. It’s like, your favorite word or something.” Sirius laughed, slurping down his cereal milk and licking his chops. You bit back another apology and rubbed your eyes again, though much more gentle this time. James cooed in sympathy.

“You still sleepy?” He rubbed your back again, which made you both more heated and more drowsy.

“Yeah.” You hummed, shamefaced as you played with the hem of your oversized t-shirt. You were thankful that you were still too shy to not wear long pants around them, because they would definitely be able to tell how tensed your legs were. Remus set his paper down.

“Do you have work today, love?”

“No, ‘s my day off.” James grinned at that, but Sirius spoke up.

“Happy coincidence! It’s ours too.” He grinned. “How about we all watch something? We can put something on in the lounge room and you can catch a bit of sleep on the settee?” He suggested. You shrunk at the thought of sleeping in front of them, but weren’t opposed to the idea.

“We’ll make sure to wake you up so you don’t sleep the day away.” James added, still rubbing your back. You were easily convinced.

“Okay, that does sound nice.” Barely above a whisper.

“We can all have a big lunch when you get up, too. Maybe we could go out?” Remus suggested as he led you gently to the living room. You tried to make your way to the armchair, but you were tugged to the couch.

“That won’t be comfy, dollface. Here you go.” Sirius sat on the settee close to one arm, Remus by the other. Sirius pulled you between them while James sat on the floor and you whined in protest.

“No, I’ll move. You sit here, James.”

Remus swore that was the loudest he had ever heard you speak.

“No, I’m good right here. Thanks though, sweetness.” James reassured. He was sat in the middle, though rather close to Remus so the mousy boy could reach out with one hand and scratch James’ scalp, roving his long fingers through the thick curls. You were so distracted that you were startled when Sirius tugged on you again, maneuvering your head onto a pillow that laid on his lap. You tensed before relaxing into his warmth. You tucked your legs into yourself as Remus covered you with a blanket before going back to loving on James.

“There you go, baby. That feel nice?” Sirius said, unfamiliarly soft as he stroked your hair, hand a welcome warmth on your scalp.

Baby. Baby. Baby.

It would surprise you if you woke up from this nap. Your heart had nearly stopped on the spot.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders angst #poly marauders #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #james potter #sirius black #marauders era #remus lupin #drabble #fluff #poly!marauders x shy!reader #anon ask #anon request

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inkdrinkerworld · 3 months ago

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hi!! i saw your requests were open but i was wondering if you’d do a high maintenance reader w any of the marauders?? i just realized that i got my hair done, my eyelashes done, my nails done, and a facial all within a week and now im crying because i can’t afford my lifestyle, and also because i didn’t realize i was considered high maintenance until now :/

“We’re not having this conversation again, angel.” James says as he holds your hand on the walk back to the car.

You frown, catching a glimpse at your nails and smiling before frowning again. “But Jamie, it’s every month!”

He opens the back door for you, letting you slide in before he gets in himself.

Remus is driving while Sirius sits in the passenger seat, hair held back a bun that’s not very effective but makes him all the more handsome.

“It’s not a problem, sweet girl.” James steals a kiss. “We don’t mind.” Remus catches a glimpse at you in the rear view mirror.

“What’s wrong dove?” You pout, not really upset with them but upset at what you realized halfway through your nail appointment.

“All three of you always pay for my things,” All the boys frown, they don’t see the issue. You sigh, your fists banging on your exposed knees under your skirt.

“Every time I have an appointment, one of you comes just to pay. Doesn’t that make you feel gross? Like you’re just here to maintain me?”

Sirius turns to face you first. He’s not the best with words, but he’s always able to get to you faster than the other boys.

“Why would we feel gross about taking care of you? You’re not a thing to maintain and even if we do pay for your things it doesn’t mean it’s a burden.”

Remus nods at Sirius’ words, “We don’t come just to pay either. We like seeing you get all dolled up, lovely girl. It’s a treat for us as much as it is for you.”

You roll your eyes, disbelieving, “Just this week, I’ve done my hair, had a facial, got waxed and did my nails and you all paid for something.”

Remus nods, driving effortlessly while holding your eyes in the rear view. “We like taking care of you dove. You never ask for us to do it, we just do because it makes us feel good.”

James nods, lips to your temple. “It does. So what if you go do a million procedures a month? Just as long as we get to finance it.”

You sigh long and hard, “But it’s so much.”

Remus shakes his head, voice soothing even as he maneuvers the car through traffic, “Baby, we all argue about who gets to pay for what. It’s not too much for us, we want to keep doing it.”

Sirius cuts you a hard look from the passenger side when he catches your eye roll, “Poppet,” he leans around the seat to look you in the eyes. “We like maintaining you. We like spending our money on you when you want to do something, that’s not an issue to us, got it?”

James speaks softly when you don’t answer, “S’like Remus said, angel. No sense in making yourself feel bad for something we’d practically fight each other to do, yeah?”

You nod, a little bashful under his gaze and when he beckons you forward with his chin, you nearly scramble across the middle seat to kiss him.

Sirius’ hands tangle in your hair and you pull away, “I just got it done yesterday, Siri.” He smiles, all wicked and best pleased.

“And you look all the more gorgeous.” He steals another kiss just as Remus pulls up to your brunch destination. “Now c’mon, we’ve got to show you off after all this.”

Remus turns your face before you get too far, stealing a couple kisses for himself. “No more worrying about us taking care of you, yeah?”

You’re dazed and kisses silly, “Yeah, Remmy.” James gets his kisses last and you have to wait ten minutes in the backseat before getting out with any of them while you hide a smile.

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iamgonnagetyouback · 3 months ago

Text

𝟷𝚔 || 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 (PART 1)

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: After being the forgotten one your whole life, you thought that they wouldn't forget you.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: Angst, Getting stood up

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

♡ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ : part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

The small café was almost unbearably stuffy, the kind of warmth that clung to your skin like a bad memory. You sat at the tiny table, your fingers wrapped around the fifth, long-cold cup of coffee. Five empty cups already littered the space around you, their contents drained, and yet the boys were nowhere to be seen. The delicate pink and gold décor of Madam Puddifoot's—once sweet and charming—now felt suffocating.

You glanced up at the clock again.

They were an hour late.

Your heart sank lower into your stomach. An hour. The tiny voice in your head whispered cruel thoughts, thoughts you tried so hard to push away but they gnawed at you nonetheless. Did they stand me up?

You and the boys had only been dating for a few months—James, Sirius, Remus, Peter. It was unconventional, but you all cared about each other, or so you thought. The beginning had been a whirlwind of excitement and passion, stolen kisses in the corridors, late-night sneaking into the Gryffindor common room. But lately… lately, something had shifted.

You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were slipping through the cracks, that the bond they shared with each other was unbreakable and you were just some added accessory, an outsider trying to fit into a world that already had no space left for you.

A pang of doubt stung your chest. Maybe you had been stupid to believe that this could work. That they wanted you, truly wanted you. A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you stared down at the empty cups. Five cups. Five glasses, just like five people. You had been here. But where were they?

Each tick of the clock seemed to mock you. You had tried to convince yourself, at first, that they were just running late, that something had come up. They were the Marauders after all, always busy with some adventure or prank. But now? Now, you weren't so sure. The knot in your chest tightened, the air in the café becoming harder to breathe in. You were drowning in your thoughts, the same ones spiraling over and over.

Maybe I’m not important enough for them. Maybe they’ve realized they don’t need me. Just each other.

A tear slipped down your cheek before you could stop it. You quickly wiped it away, but the damage was done. Your heart was cracking with each passing second, each tick of the clock hammering the reality into you: they weren’t coming. They had forgotten you. Or worse, maybe they never even planned on showing up.

The idea that they had stood you up made your blood boil, but underneath the anger was the cold sting of hurt. They were supposed to be yours. How could they do this? How could they leave you waiting here, like some fool, while they—?

You couldn’t stay here any longer. The sight of the café and the sound of the clinking china cups was making you nauseous. You grabbed your things, hands shaking, and bolted out of the door, the chilly evening air hitting your tear-streaked face. The wind stung, but not as much as the empty feeling gnawing at your chest.

Your feet carried you without thinking. You needed to get away, to find solace, to bury yourself in someone who cared. And there was only one place to go.

Lily and Mary’s dorm.

When you burst into the room, Lily and Mary were tangled up together on the bed, kissing softly, not noticing your entrance at first. The door creaked behind you, and suddenly, they pulled apart, eyes wide and worried as they saw your tear-stained face.

“Oh my God, what happened?!” Lily was up in an instant, rushing over to you, her hands gripping your shoulders gently as she took in the sight of you, broken and shaking.

You opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out. Instead, a sob escaped, one that ripped through you, and you crumpled into her arms. Mary had joined the two of you by now, her eyes filled with concern.

“Sweetheart, what is it? What happened?” Mary’s voice was gentle, but the panic was clear.

You choked back another sob, wiping furiously at the tears streaming down your cheeks. “I hate them,” you finally spat, the bitterness in your voice taking even you by surprise. “I hate them so much.”

Lily’s brow furrowed in confusion. “The boys? What did they do?”

“They didn’t show up,” you hissed, the words tumbling out like venom. “They were supposed to meet me at Madam Puddifoot's… an hour ago. And they didn’t come. Not even a bloody owl. Nothing.”

Lily’s face hardened, and Mary’s mouth opened in shock.

“They… they stood you up?” Mary asked, her voice soft, as if she couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, your throat tightening as the tears threatened to fall again. “I waited, and I waited, and they never came. I… I thought they cared, you know? But maybe I’m just—maybe I’m just not important enough for them.” The last part came out in a broken whisper.

Lily pulled you closer, her arms wrapping around you tightly. “No. No, don’t you dare think that. They’re idiots, all of them. Complete and utter prats.”

“But I’m always the last thought, Lily,” you sobbed, the hurt spilling out. “They’ve been so distant lately. Like… like I’m not even part of the group anymore. Like they’re fine with just each other and I’m… I’m just in the way.”

Mary knelt beside you, her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “You deserve better than this. So much better.”

“I thought they were different,” you said bitterly, “I didn’t expect this from them. Not from them. But… I guess I was wrong.”

The room was quiet for a moment, only the sound of your broken breaths filling the space. Lily and Mary exchanged a look, one that told you they were just as furious as they were heartbroken for you.

You had come to them with your broken heart, and now, you didn’t know what to do with the pieces. All you knew was that in this moment, you wanted nothing to do with the Marauders. You wanted to scream, cry, and hate them with everything you had.

And maybe—just maybe—you could learn how to forget them too.

#poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders angst #remus lupin angst #remus lupin hurt/comfort #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin #sirius black angst #sirius black x reader #sirius black #james fleamont potter #james potter x reader #james potter #james potter angst #peter pettigrew #peter pettigrew x reader #ivy's soft scribbles ೀ

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sun-kissy · 5 months ago

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Hi i was wondering if you could do a poly wolfstar fic with a fem reader where she feels left out of the relationship because they start to drifting apart which then leads to them breaking up. But then Sirius and Remus realises what they did wrong but reader just doesnt want to because shes scared they'll leave her out again.💗

hi angel! thank you for the request ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst

poly!wolfstar x reader

You lean against the doorway, quietly observing them. Something you always seem to be doing these days. Your eyes rake over Sirius, with his legs propped up on one arm of the couch while his head lies in Remus’ lap.

Sirius laughs, and the smile Remus gives him while he strokes his hair is so full of love. It makes you wonder if Remus thought he personally strung up all the stars in the sky or something.

You try not to let it get to you but it does anyway, that same stinging sensation in your chest, as though someone had pierced your heart.

It felt silly to feel as hurt as you did. The boys were so hopelessly in love, it was endearing. They had claimed to love you the same way too just a few weeks ago. When they first proclaimed their love, it felt surreal. Perfect. But now, it felt like a chore.

Not to you, never to you. Loving them would never feel like a chore to you, you were sure of that. But what if they felt that way? What if you were just an experiment gone wrong?

Maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing. Or maybe this relationship was a mistake.

Sirius and Remus perfectly complemented each other already, it was like Remus was a container and Sirius was water. And you were the lid that just never fit right. Remus was calm, peaceful, loving. Sirius was fun, snarky, and full of affection.

What were you? Just a random girl who had the fortune of stumbling across the lovely couple.

They hadn’t done anything in particular to upset you, they never would. But it was the way they instinctively walked closer together, their fingers interlaced. The way they glanced at each other, having silent conversations you would never understand. How they seemed to know everything about the other, from every inch of his skin to every thought in his head.

It was like they could see colours you couldn’t see, speak a language you didn’t understand.

You told yourself it was fine, they had just known each other longer. They stayed in the same dorm room and took the same classes, of course they were bound to be closer.

But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, and it felt like you were trying to wedge yourself in. It left you feeling like the side character in your own story.

You heard your name and snapped out of your daze, blinking as you find Sirius grinning stupidly at you from where he lazed on the sofa. His expression softens when your eyes meet his. “Love, come over here! We’ve been looking for you all day.”

That was a lie, your brain screamed at you. You spotted them chatting in lessons, eating together at the Great Hall, taking a walk in the garden. They were not looking for you, it was a lie.

Remus smiles softly, beckoning you over. You will yourself to move, to go sit with your boyfriends, but it’s like your legs have turned to stone.

You silently stand there, watching them. You try to muster a smile or open your mouth to say something. But nothing comes out except for a quiet wrangled sort of noise.

Remus looks at you strangely. Sirius frowns, his eyebrows creasing. He pushes his palms down on the couch, elbows buckling as he sits up a bit. “Y/N, baby? Why don’t you come on over?”

You watch Remus gently move his fingers to Sirius’ forehead to smoothen the lines between his eyebrows, and him turning around to give the sandy-haired boy a lovesick smile. That simple action causes the last ounce of willpower in you to break.

You clench your fists to stop your hands from trembling as you suck in a deep breath, feeling the ache in your chest start to grow. Was it jealousy? Anger? Hurt?

Sirius seemed ready to move to your side right that moment, looking utterly confused as to what was wrong. But Remus kept his hand wrapped around Sirius’ bicep, a silent order to let you be.

“Angel,” Remus breathes quietly. You visibly flinch at the term of endearment, not missing the flash of hurt across his face which he quickly replaced with his usual stoicism.

Your heart was thudding so loudly you wondered if the boys could hear it. You swallow the lump in your throat, stuck between wanting to burn the bridges between you or to walk across them.

“I…” your voice comes out scratchy as you try to explain yourself. You clear your throat, watching Sirius’s frown deepen and Remus bite his lip anxiously.

“I don’t think I want to,” you say quietly, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. You knew Remus would understand, always the perceptive one. It was obvious in the way his eyes widened and his grip on Sirius loosened.

But Sirius just tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. “Okay…? You can sit on the other couch then. You can sit anywhere you want to, love.”

You wince, glancing at Remus for help. But he’s looking at you with that sad look on his face now, the one he only wears when he sees Sirius crying after receiving a letter from home, or when you show up at Hogwarts after the holidays with bruises all over. Did it really hurt him that much?

A sigh escapes you as you decide to try to be gentle with it. That’s the least you could do, after the boys had so generously let you in on their already perfect relationship. You suck in a shaky breath, mustering the courage to croak out the words.

“It’s not about the couch, Siri. I… I mean this,” you mutter, gesturing between the three of you. Immediately, your head ducks down, scared of what you’ll find if you look back up at them.

An uncomfortable silence is cast over the room, the kind that makes your skin crawl. A beat of quietness passes before you find the strength to raise your head, peeking at the boys. Sirius looks cracked open, his face a picture of anguish.

“What?” he rasps out. Remus’ features are tight with something that looks like grief, his hand ghosting over Sirius’ ankle to provide the little comfort he can.

The croakiness of his voice makes your heart feel like it’s being cleaved in two. But you knew you had to do this. For your sake, and for theirs.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mumble in a rush, eager to get it out and not have to endure watching them in pain for too long. Sirius stays silent, his lips pursed so tight you think he might burst into tears.

“Why?” Remus asks quietly, gaze still trained onto yours as he rubs circles onto Sirius’ ankle comfortingly. “I… I don’t fit in. You guys are perfect for each other. But I just don’t fit in,” you admit, feeling guilt clawing at you. “This just isn’t working,”

“We’ll make it work,” Sirius says immediately, and the sincerity in his voice almost makes you want to concede. But you know that’s not possible. “Just… just tell us what we’re doing wrong, we’ll fix it. I swear.”

Remus nods slowly, looking at you expectantly. The hope on their faces make you feel like the worst person in the world as you give them all you have to offer - a small shake of your head.

“But love,” Sirius murmurs, his voice cracking. “Why… what… where did we mess up?”

“It wasn’t you guys,” you say immediately, even though it was. You just can’t bear to see the pain etched on the black-haired boy’s face. “It’s just not meant to be. We’re better off as friends.”

“But we love you,” Remus speaks up quietly. Sirius nods earnestly.

“I can’t,” you say, relieved that your voice comes out evenly. It’s a miracle with how hard you’re fighting to hold back tears. “I can’t do this. The both of you are always together, and I'm not blaming you for it. It’s in your nature to be together-”

“It’s in your nature to be with us too, dove,” Sirius says, the anguish in his voice leaving to make way for pure sadness.

“It’s not,” your voice coming out as a pathetic sob. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not fun, I don’t take the same classes, I don’t ever get what you mean. We’re just not right for each other.”

You think you can see something break in Remus when you utter that last sentence. Sirius bites down on his quivering lip and wraps his arms around himself, as though physically restraining himself from pulling you into a hug.

This isn’t the first time they’ve ignored what you said, isn’t the first time they didn’t respond. It happened on a daily basis, for Merlin’s sake. But this is the only time it hurt as much as it did right now.

You glance at them one last time, heart breaking at their pained expressions. But none of them say a word as you turn around and leave the room, letting you go all too easily.

Perhaps you were just not meant to be.

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ellecdc · 10 months ago

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Hi gorggg can i request an angst wolfstar fic where reader is kind of insecure of her placement within their relationship? like they’re both so close already and she’s a new addition so she kinda just feels out of place.

thank you for your amazing writing!! doing the world a favor❤️❤️❤️

Hey babes! Thanks SO much for the request 'cause truly, this is my shit. Now, I have to admit that I'm obsessed with these fics that have the same vibe by moonstruckme (poly!marauders) and super-clearlysaltybouquet (poly!wolfstar), so really, they're the blueprints/inspiration for this piece

also...I'm a whore for hurt/comfort. But you asked for ANGST...so I've given you only angst and no comfort. If you want comfort, you'll have to ask for a part two 💖 hope you love it!!! UPDATE: part two is here.

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

CW: insecurities in relationship, feeling out of place, angst, hurt no comfort

It felt silly, really, to feel as sad as you did. You were currently sitting with two boys who you’ve been basically in love with for so long - two boys who have proclaimed to feel the same way about you - and on the outside you were sure this looked like a really lovely moment.

It just didn’t feel very lovely.

You didn’t think your discontentedness stemmed from anything the boys had done in particular, but even seeing the way they instinctively leaned closer to one another when anyone else approached the three of you left you feeling like an outsider looking in.

Maybe you were overthinking things. Maybe this was just your insecurities showing.

Or maybe…maybe…the three of you had made a mistake.

Maybe you weren’t cut out for polyamory; it certainly wasn’t for the weak, and it certainly wasn’t easy being the newest addition to the relationship.

You felt lost in most conversations, missing key information that inside jokes, years of friendship, and living together in the same tower - the same dorm room – led to. It felt as though they were fluent in a language you were only starting to pick up, and you didn’t want them to have to slow down for your sake. You didn’t want one of them to have to play the role of translator just for your benefit.

But then, why were you here?

You weren’t calm, relaxed, and witty like Remus. And you weren’t funny, exciting, and energetic like Sirius. They seemed to already balance each other out perfectly; maybe that’s why it felt so easy to fall into the role of a background character in your own relationship.

There was a brief ‘honeymoon’ period to your relationship; a time of public proclamations, handholding and PDA, dates, and spending every moment the three of you could together.

It was exciting.

And then it was less exciting – not to you, never to you - but it seemed to be that way for them.

Suddenly, it was dates and then them returning to their dorm – back home – without you. It was silent conversations with nothing but a look between the two of them that didn’t include you in the slightest. It was professors announcing partner projects, and them pairing together immediately which was fine, you told yourself, because you always partnered with Shelby anyway and that’s the way it had always been before.

Before.

This is the way it had always been before.

So, what were you doing here, exactly? What were you doing sitting on a blanket near the Black Lake with a book in your hand, while Sirius’ hand gripped around your ankle gently as Remus played with Sirius’ hair from where his head was laying in his lap, whilst Sirius and Remus talked about pranks, something funny that James said, and setting Peter up with some Hufflepuff girl?

You could tell you were being insecure… that you were overthinking this. You could tell you were being unreasonable because every so often, Sirius’ hand wouldn’t just be resting around your ankle, but he would squeeze it gently or rub his thumb across your Achilles tendon as if to convince himself that you were still here; still real. And every so often, Remus would move his gaze from where it laid on his own book or away from Sirius whom he was speaking with to look at you… check on you… confirm you were still there; still okay.

They cared. They had to, right? Cared that you were here? They wouldn’t have asked you otherwise, surely. They wouldn’t be making the effort to keep a hand on you, or their eyes on you. Surely, they would never have decided to open their relationship to include you in it.

But there it was…the truth.

It was their relationship. And they’d opened it up for you.

It should be the second part of that sentence that spoke to you the most, but in your mind and insecurities, the first part seemed like the whole truth.

This was their relationship.

You shouldn’t be here.

“You still with us, dove?” Remus asked gently, distracting you from your musings. You suddenly realized that your book you were holding had fallen limply into your lap and you were staring unseeingly at the Black Lake. The boys had apparently paused their conversation to look at you, and Sirius’ thumb continued its tender caressing of the soft of your joint.

“Yeah.” You said, but it came out scratchy. You cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, sorry, I must have zoned out for a second.”

Sirius wiggled your ankle. “Daydreaming again, huh? About us I bet.” He teased with a wink.

You wiggled your ankle back at him as he leaned his head up from Remus’ lap, lips puckered in an ask (a demand) for a kiss.

This may be fleeting, so who were you to deny him?

You leaned forward on one hand, the other still holding your book, and pressed a kiss to the black-haired boy’s lips. He smiled into it and let you go all too willingly as you leaned back and tried to focus on your book.

The air around you began to feel heavy before the sound of distant thunder permeated your hearing.

“Damn, I guess Scottish weather isn’t very reliable, hm?” Remus said as he began packing up his things.

“It’s too bad.” Sirius murmured as he began to stand. “I was having a nice time out here with you two.”

You smiled back at him as he extended a hand to help you up.

“We’re still on for a study date tomorrow after dinner, right?” He asked you when you were at your full height.

“Yeah, sure. If you guys will have me.” You responded shyly, hating that you even hinted at any of your insecurities.

Sirius scoffed in response, but it was Remus who answered. “’Course we do, dove. We’re looking forward to it.”

You felt like you should be a little embarrassed at the way your heart fluttered hopefully at the sentiment, but you focused instead on Sirius’ smile and Remus’ soft eyes as the three of you made your way back to the castle.

You hadn’t seen the boys at all today. You unfortunately slept through your alarm, making you miss breakfast completely; generally, you’d sit with Sirius, Remus, and their friends at the Gryffindor table. The two of them were no shows for lunch, so you opted to sit with Shelby instead. And it was Friday, and on Friday’s you didn’t share any classes with them, meaning by the time you made it to dinner, you’d not seen or heard from them at all.

“Hey James.” You commented as you headed towards James, Lily, and Regulus sitting at the Slytherin table. “Have you seen Rem or Sirius at all today?” Of course, you knew that he had, he lived with them.

James seemed to grimace slightly, but the expression was fleeting before he was smiling at you again.

He knew something you didn’t.

“The last I heard they were talking about your study date tonight.” He offered. You could tell he was putting on an extra show of enthusiasm for your benefit. You tried to be grateful for it, but it left a sour taste in your mouth, nonetheless.

“Okay, thank you.” You said as you turned to head to find a seat with Shelby.

“Oh, Y/N.” Lily called after you. “You’re welcome to sit with us, if you’d like?”

You grinned gratefully at Lily as she smiled kindly at you, even though your heart clenched on account of the clearly pitying offer. Was it as obvious to everyone else as it was to you that you were so out of place with Remus and Sirius? Could they all see it too?

“That’s alright. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!” You called as you walked away.

The boys weren’t avoiding you, were they? Surely, they would have said something to you if there was a problem.

Although, perhaps they wouldn’t, seeing as you had clearly been spiraling for some time now and have yet to discuss it with them.

Would they even meet you in the library later? Certainly, they would have said if something came up…if you needed to reschedule.

No.

You were obviously being silly. You hadn’t seen them all day, but they hadn’t seen you either – it was just a coincidence. You were fine.

Except you weren’t fine. Because it was about seven minutes after the time you had agreed to meet them before the boys joined you in the library. Remus offered you a hasty “sorry we’re late, dove” and a squeeze of your shoulder before taking a place at the table across from you, and Sirius pecked a quick kiss into your hair and sat beside you without saying a word.

It was painfully awkward. You’d asked them how their days were – Remus answered for the both of them before he asked you how yours was in turn.

After two more (failed) attempts on your part to make conversation, the rest of the study session was spent in silence. And not a comfortable silence.

It was the kind of silence that had you checking your surroundings every so often. The kind of silence that made you feel as if bugs were crawling over your skin.

Every time you looked across at Remus, he seemed to be shooting concerned glances over at Sirius. Every time you looked in your periphery at Sirius, you could see he was zoned out, eyes rimmed and red like he’d been crying or angrily rubbing at them.

If something was wrong, they would have told you – right?

If they were regretting being with you, they wouldn’t have shown - right?

If they were going to break up with you, they wouldn’t do it in the library of all places.

Right?

Your musings were interrupted when Sirius let out a sharp breath and closed his book unceremoniously.

“Sorry guys, I’m not feeling the best. I think I’m going to pack it up.”

Remus immediately perked up, looking like he was ready to pack up too. “Okay, do you want company?”

Do you want me to come with you?

“No, that’s alright. Don’t let me impede your studying. I’ll catch up with you later, ‘kay?”

I’ll talk to you more in our dorm room when we’re alone, Remus.

“Sorry, sweets. I’ll make it up to you.” He said as he hugged you from behind and kissed your neck.

“Okay, I hope you feel better.” You offered as you awkwardly pat his arms. He gave you a half-hearted smile before quickly exiting the library.

Once his figure disappeared from your vision, you turned back to see Remus still looking towards the way Sirius just left; he was still poised as if he was ready to pack up and go after him.

You suddenly felt guilty…because if you weren’t here, he would be going… He’d be going after his boyfriend and comforting him through…whatever he’s going through.

So now, here you were keeping Remus from where he really wanted to be, and Sirius from having the support that he needs…that he deserves.

My gods, you’ve made such a terrible mistake. How did the three of you not notice?

“Sorry about that, love.” Remus mentioned quietly, offering you a half smile. “He…he got a letter from his family today. He doesn’t really talk about it with people.”

He talked about it with you, though.

“It usually takes him a day or two to sort it out before he comes back to us.”

You mean back to you, James, and Peter…

“I’ll talk to him.”

When you leave me…to go to him.

You hated even feeling petulant about it. One of the things you loved about these boys was how much they loved each other. The trust, the affection, the care…you had just hoped that somehow, you’d get to enjoy those things too.

You offered him the best smile you could muster as you turned back towards your book. You could no longer make the words out as your vision blurred, tears threatening to spill out over the arithmancy calculations spread below you.

You couldn’t keep doing this. Not to Remus, not to Sirius…and certainly not to yourself. You deserved better, all three of you did.

You were being selfish, inserting yourself into their relationship like this; demanding things from them that they didn’t owe you.

“You know what,” you offered quietly, clearing your throat as your voice came out scratchy, grating along the lump lodged in your throat. “I think I’ve gotten enough studying done for tonight.”

You stood and started piling your things together.

“Oh…are, are you sure?” Remus asked like he was willing to argue, but he too was standing and starting to pack his bag – eager to get to his dorm and check on Sirius.

“Yeah, I did some work on it at dinner as well.”

Remus grimaced slightly at that.

“I’m sorry dove, really. The three of us clearly haven’t had a great day. I’ll talk to Sirius, and I promise we’ll all be back in sync in no time.”

You looked into his eyes and saw sincerity.

Back in sync.

Were we ever in sync to begin with?

“Can I walk you to your dorm?” He asked as he made to move around the table, but he paused at you quickly shaking your head.

“No, no I’m alright. I can find my way.” You tried to joke, but it fell flat.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. No, don’t worry about it just – uhm – just make sure he’s okay for me, yeah?” You asked as you walked backwards to the door. Remus must’ve picked up something in your tone, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked you up and down.

“I really am sorry, Y/N. We’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

You quickly wiped away a stray tear that found its way out of your water line and gave him the biggest smile you could muster.

This was better, you thought, let everyone out of their misery.

“’Course. I’ll, uhm, I’ll see you around, Lupin.”

And you left.

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novvabee · 2 months ago

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Hi,

Could you do a romantic poly!marauder (without peter) x reader where they are in a established relationship and maybe James (I just imagine it coming for him) having baby fever and dropping hint at it to make the others want to a start a family ?

omg! I totally can see James wanting a family like straight away, but the others are kind of hesitant. Hope this fits your vision ❤️

Oh baby, baby fever

summary: james wants a baby

cw: suggestive? talk about starting a family

James had been more needy and cuddly in the past couple of days. He was holding you closer, tighter to his chest in the mornings, being incredibly sweet. And this is James we’re talking about. He normally treated you like royalty, but he had somehow stepped it up after spending the day at work with you.

You had been a nanny for a family for about a year now, and you were loving the job. The family was so kind and generous, and they often felt like an extension of your own family. The children were no different. They were the sweetest kids with the most patience and understanding that you had ever seen in a child. There was a boy, Liam, who was 5, and a little girl named Ruth, 4. They were the reason you loved your job, getting to see them and care for them was the best job you could have ever asked for.

Two days ago, you had planned a trip to the zoo for the two, and were so excited to spend the whole day with them. James, who had the day off, offered to come with. He argued that it would be better to have two adult sets of eyes to watch over the children, safer, and you agreed. You didn’t know how the children would take it at first, him being a stranger, but just like everyone else seemed to, they took to him instantly.

Liam was so happy to have a boy to rough around with (though james was about 3 and a half feet teller and much, much stronger) and Ruth seemed to develop a bit of a crush, having James tie her pink sparkly shoes, hold his hand to cross the street, listen to her jokes and animal facts she had learned, and hold her favorite stuffed animal when she got tired of holding it herself.

James never once complained. He played and laughed with the kids, he carried both, one in each arm, whenever they asked, he bought them each a toy from the gift shop with his own money when they asked. He was doing amazing.

There was a different side to James that you saw. You were used to the kindness and warmth of him, but this was different. He was so gentle with them, it came so easy to him. You noted the moments he would get down to their level to hear them properly, to make sure they felt heard even though they were mostly talking nonsense or silly kid things. He lifted them up to see the animals without them having to ask, he just knew they wouldn’t be about to see over the fence. He made sure they had water and snacks whenever they wanted them.

It took a lot of pressure and stress off of you, put some ideas into your head… you thought that he would make a great dad.

And it seems, James had the same thoughts. The next day he dropped his first hint. All four of you and your boys were lounging about on the couch and watching movies. The day was quite glum out and you all wanted to curl up and use each other for warmth. You were curled into Remus’s side, James laying on you, his head on your chest and body between your legs, Sirius’s head in Remus’s lap. You were a big puddle of happiness. While watching a particularly boring part of the movie, James began running his hands along your sides, under your shirt. You didn’t mind, his hands were always so warm and soft. It gave you goosebumps in the best way. He moved his hands from your sides to your stomach, right under your belly button. He was dragging his fingers along your bare skin before looking at your stomach and kissing it. He laid his head back down and watched the move like nothing, continuing to rub your sides, but you knew what he was after. You knew what he was thinking and why.

The next hint was dropped while you were all in the kitchen. Remus finishing cooking dinner for you, and the three of you waiting patiently at the table. You had somehow stumbled into the conversation of which teachers you had crushes on when you were younger.

“Oh come on, Minnie had that authoritative thing going for her.” Sirius confidently announced over the noise of the kitchen.

“McGonagall? Sirius, what is wrong with you?” Remus looked over from the stove, baffled. You giggled and went to stick up for Sirius.

“I don't know,” you joked “She had sort of a milf vibe don't you think?”

The boys all laughed. James replied with a smirk from across the table“You’d know all about that Y/N, wouldn’t you?”

You tilted your head at him and furrowed your brows but chuckled “What do you mean Jamesie?”

“I just mean,” he starts, Remus serving you and Sirius both plates, “It takes one to know one.”

You all started laughing heartily at his comment.

“James mate, I think she’s lacking the main component for that.” Sirius teased.

“What do you mean?” James asked.

“She's not a mother.”

“She could be,” James said slyly, a smirk cutting across his face.

“Woah woah” Remus said at the same time Sirius laughed a “What are you planning Potter?” you just laughed, you knew exactly what he was getting at. You were letting him have his fun before the seriousness sets in, before that very real, very important discussion happens.

The next hint was dropped during game night. You had all decided to play a few games like Overcooked and Mario Party. It was quite a fun night full of swearing and playful anger. It was a good outlet to yell at each other without it being serious or mean in any way. A great way to let out all of your competitive energy. You were playing a round of Mario Party and losing, bad. Every mini game the boys seemed to team up on you. “Fuck me!” you let out.

James took this as his sign to slide in behind you and wrap his arms around you “You know that can be arranged, love.” he drawled, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

Remus and Sirius shared a look. “What’s gotten into him?” Sirius asked.

“He wants to have a baby.” you explained. You weren’t sure how the other boys hadn’t picked up on it. It wasn’t exactly something that you had all talked about yet, you just liked being together, the four of you, having fun and sharing a life with each other. You weren't sure about… a baby.

The whole room turned attention to James, who seemed to have turned shy. “I just-,” he started, “I think that… Y/N would make a wonderful mother, and I think I would be a pretty good dad? And I love children, I want one. I’m not saying, I mean, I-I don’t know…” He finished, unconfident and a little deterred.

You sighed, sitting up and readjusting to sit in his lap, facing him. “Jamie baby,” You said, taking his face in your hands, “look, you would be an amazing dad, the best dad in the world. But honey, I don’t think we are all ready for that right now.” you looked over to Sirius and Remus for agreement, they nodded and encouraged you to keep going. “James, we’re still really young. And I know you had a lot of fun with the kids I nanny, but that is different. Those are someone else's kids. Kids that we can have fun with and do fun things with them and then send them on their way back home where they scream and cry and throw tantrums. They aren’t always so perfect. And you’ve never had to change their diapers or deal with them when they're sick and when they are inconsolable. It was fun, but there is a whole other side to parenting, a hard and serious one.” Sirius opened his mouth to make a comment at that but Remus nudged him in the ribs and shook his head. “So baby, I am not saying no. But I am saying not right now. Is that understandable?” you asked.

James looked at you and nodded, you could tell he knew it wasn't the right time, but deep down that is something he wants. You kissed his cheek to try and cheer him up a bit, you know he would need a little bit to be sad, but that he would inevitably come around.

Remus, noticing that James was still upset, came up with a proposition. “How about we work our way up? We start small and then see where we are after. What if we get a cat or a dog?” He suggests.

Sirius squinted his eyes and said “How about a plant?”

James chuckled, the sound making your heart feel less heavy. “I would like a cat…”

“Damnit” Sirius said under his breath.

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calliopesdiary · 1 month ago

Text

i wish i were heather...

synopsis: you were under the impression that you were stable in your secret long-term relationship with three of the four marauders, until it becomes clear that you aren't the girl they want anymore. (so you think). will you lose them before its too late? or have you already?

pairings: fem!reader x poly!marauders ` poly!marauders x lily evans

warnings: NO LILY SLANDER!! SHE'S PERFECT AND BEAUTIFUL AND ITS NOT HER FAULT!!, cusswords, ANGST, depressing, a blip of reader skipping meals on the radar but it's srsly nothing crazy, insecure reader, the marauders besides peter are dicks, reader is a little naive, the marauders borderline cheat on you, no happy ending, there might still be one thoughhh, possibly slytherin!reader if you squint?,

part one in the conan gray series

A/N!!: In some of the fic i use colors to represent a certain character! Orange is Lily, Red is James, and Green is Barty :3

wc; 2.4k

LIFE WAS AMAZING, which is not usually how stories begin.

You felt so safe and secure in your secret relationship with Hogwarts' once most eligible bachelors... The Marauders.

The rush of excitement that coursed through your veins every time you shared a hidden glance with Remus, or hiding in the showers of the Gryffindor boys locker room with James after his quidditch victory, and sneaking off to empty classrooms where anyone from anywhere could catch you with Sirius.

It was heavenly, these boys were all you would ever need.

until... now.

You were in Remus' sweater, he said it looked better on you than it did him. If only he knew how much you liked him...

The fireplace erupted with a citrine glow, illuminating the Gryffindor common room beautifully.

Most impactfully, it lit up Remus' scar-kissed features.

His freckles looked as if they were painted onto his face with careful hands by a renaissance painter.

His eyes half-lidded from his lack of sleep from the incoming full moon that was slowly approaching, it pained you to know how much they hurt him.

For once, Remus wasn't in a sweater. Since his was rested comfortably on your body, as your scent comforted The Wolf greatly.

And his scent comforted you, too.

Remus' book had suddenly landed on your lap, and though it startled you a bit. You didn't bother to ask why, until you sat up.

Remus was locked in a passionate conversation with Gryffindor's resident golden girl, Lily Evans.

"Evans, it's lovely to see you."

"Same to you, Lupin."

Godric, was she beautiful.

"I just stopped by to see if you had gotten any of the Defence Against The Dark Arts homework done?"

Lily Evans was as radiant as an angel who blessed anyone with her presence.

"I have; actually, I just finished my paper."

Remus seemed mesmerized by her, the golden gleam from the fire painting her features gorgeously in that same citrine glow as Remus'.

"Could I have a look of it? Not to copy it- obviously, I just want to see how others are wording the question."

You weren't even half as pretty as Lily.

"Of course, and I know you'd never cheat."

"You're the smartest witch in our year."

You tried not to mind other girls flirting with your boys.

Just because you knew that later that night they'd be back to your boys again, and only yours.

As she was about to go, she planted a soft kiss on the side of Remus' cheek, leaving him blushing softly as he bid her goodbye.

Your heart clenched, it was merely a pleasantry. You were being dramatic.

"Are you alright, dove?" Your head perked up at the sound of Remus' voice.

"Hm? Yeah, I'm fine." You mused, albeit a bit absentmindedly.

"Are you tired?" He asked carefully.

"I am, actually..." You forced a sweet smile onto your lips, as he leaned down to kiss them softly.

That kiss was the last one that felt anything more than a chore, an obligation.

That was also your last kiss with Remus.

Cheering James on at the quidditch pitch was just the thrill you needed after that melancholy moment with Remus.

He soared through the field like he was on top of the world, the players scattered around the pitch for one common goal: to win.

Gryffindor had won the game with 60 points, and James had caught the snitch like usual.

This game was also a rain game.

Just as you were about to head down to showers when you spotted Lily excitedly trailing after James.

You knew full well that James chased Lily tirelessly since they started school, that was also well before you came into the picture.

You also knew that she wanted nothing to do with him or the other marauders, so what was with her infatuation now?

Why your boys? She couldn't find her own boys?

But maybe she was just being friendly, right? The boys would never ever cheat on you... right?

You heard Lily giggle as James so graciously held the curtain open for her to enter the locker room, and your heart clenched.

You followed them in, jealously.

"James?" You called, as James poked his head from the changing area. Sweat glistening off his abs.

"Hi, Y/N." He shut the curtain behind him, as if he had something to hide.

Also; he barely just called you by your first name.

"You didn't come to see me after the game?" You questioned, grazing his cheek gently as he spoke."

"Sorry, Y/N. It was a long one." He excused, as he clearly looked a bit flushed.

"You look red, are you dehydrated?"

"Godric, y/n. you are hardly my mum."

You giggled as if it was a joke, yet he seemed quite stone faced.

You cleared your throat embarrassingly once you realized.

"I... just wanted to congratulate you on another win." You forcefully smiled again.

"Thank you, I really appreciate that." Then, he flashed his classic grin at you.

The grin he hadn't flashed at you since he realized he genuinely liked you.

What the fuck?

"Victory kiss?" You asked quietly, with some false hope mixed in.

"Of course." He pecked your forehead quickly, before hurrying off back to his changing area.

And with that, you had also left the steamy tent and outside into the cool, soft rain once more.

A forehead kiss? whenever he used to give you victory kisses they'd be full-on make outs in that same changing room or the showers.

James was falling out of love with you, and you knew it.

Luckily, you could easily disguise your tears with the excuse of it raining.

"Victory kiss?" Lily mewled, from her position on the stool in his changing spot.

"Just on the forehead, lovely."

You stopped showing up to breakfast, as the one time you decided to go Lily was sat in your spot next to Sirius.

Dorcas was nearly at her wits end with the boys and their antics.

The motley crew of Slytherins were the only ones who knew of your relationship, and they were pissed off.

"Treasure, surely they aren't fucked enough to know that you are the best thing they've ever had!" Barty explained, laying upside-down on his bed across from you.

"I-It's no use, Jr." You cried softly, mirroring his position yet on your bed instead. The tears (and blood) rushing to your hairline instead of your face because Dorcas said 'Your makeup is too pretty to ruin, love.' .

"There is a use, Y/L/N. we'll kill them-"

"Jr, absolutely not." Regulus chided, rubbing your shoulder. "She's clearly upset, I don't see the issue."

"Murder is never a good option, Barty." Dorcas scolded gently.

"So what are we gonna do then? My Treasure can't go on like this!"

"You said you've already talked to James and Remus? Maybe you can go talk to... eh... Sirius." Clearly, that name was hard for Regulus to get out.

"*Sniff* yeah, yeah- I'll go talk to him..." You sat up half-hazardously, and strutted out of the dorm-room to go (hopefully) save your relationship.

You still remember the third of December.

Sirius lounged on the couch while speaking with the other marauders, about some sort of prank on the other group of Slytherins.

"And then, we'll-"

"Hi, Siri." You sat next to him, beaming up at him (hopefully).

"...y/n." He greeted casually, before continuing to talk.

Your smile faded, as he continued to talk to your other boyfriends friends about this horrible prank.

Instead of leaving, you sat quietly next to them, as if you were some decoration or trophy wife.

This was truly your breaking point, as you saw Lily sit down on the couches of the common room as she caught all of their attention, you hadn't seemed to do that for ages. Though, she was wearing something familiar...

Remus'... sweater...

Remus'- YOUR Remus' sweater.

"How's it look?" Lily asked, giving them a twirl. Their eyes locked on her.

"Gorgeous, doll." Sirius flirted, shooting her a wink.

"Truly a sight for sore eyes." James grinned.

"It looks better on you than it did me." Remus took her hand and helped her sit down on the couch in between him and James.

That's exactly what he said to you...

He put his arm 'round her shoulder,

suddenly you got colder.

She's got them mesmerized... while you die.

But how could you hate her?

She's such an angel...

But then again you wished she were dead.

"Why would you ever kiss me?" You asked impulsively.

"What?" James looked up from Lily, all eyes on you.

"I mean- I'm not even half as pretty."

"Y/n, You're overthinking it-" Remus started it.

"You gave her your sweater!" You shot back.

"It's just polyester!" Remus defended.

"But you like her better." You felt the tears rush to your waterline.

"We're done." You whispered, leaving Lily looking so confused and the common room dead quiet.

"What does she mean by that...?" Lily seemed horrified.

"We... weren't really dating.." Sirius attempted to defend.

"Yes, we were, you tosser!" James shoved him.

"You said yourself that you were bored of her!" Remus stated matter-of-factly.

"Was I seriously the other woman?" Lily mewled, her hands clutching the sides of her head.

"Nonono- No, we were planning to break up with her but- because we all wanted you-" Sirius tried again.

"Then don't fuck around with her feelings just to get me!" Lily yelled, standing up quickly.

"I appreciate the admiration- but I need time to process, okay? You all were absolute... arseholes to her, I'll admit." Lily started,

"Are you saying no?" James quickly cut in.

"...No..." Lily ended.

After crying your eyes out to Barty and Regulus over your breakup, December 7th rolled around.

The day that students were meant to be studying for their OWLS and other end of term exams.

You would usually be in the library 24/7.

Lily, had finally come around and accepted the boys' proposal, and their relationship became public quickly.

Lily obviously still felt this bitter taste of guilt in her mouth, as did all of them.

So today, Lily had convinced them all to apologize to you for borderline cheating and lying and manipulating and gaslighting-.

But, you were nowhere to be found.

"Regulus! Regulus, wait up!" Lily ran through the hallways to get to her.

"Evans, Brother.. Potter... and Lupin.." She said those last three names with utter disgust.

"We're trying to find Y/n, have you seen her?" Remus asked quietly, he was definitely feeling the most guilt.

"Y/n? Well, If she was here, I think she'd completely refuse to see you lot." Regulus explained bluntly.

"W-What do you mean "If she was here"?" James questioned.

"I mean, Her, Junior., and the Rosier twins completed their OWLS early and hightailed it to Junior's holiday house for the rest of the break." He explained casually.

"What?" Sirius scowled.

"What the hell is my girl-... Y/n doing with them?" James had the same expression as Sirius.

"They are simply better friends then you were to her, hm? I don't blame her."

"When will she be back?" Lily asked breathlessly.

"End of December, If she ever returns." Regulus strolled away, potions book in hand.

"...We fucked up."

Fin.

#marauders era #fem!reader #sirius black #remus lupin #marauders #fanfiction #james potter #poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #lily evans #no lily slander #fanfic #angst no comfort #angst no happy ending

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alwaysanundertone · 4 months ago

Note

hiw Abt a marauderers x FEM reader, like where it's after a double moon or smth and Remus is EXTREMELY clingy to the reader, snuggled in her, doesnt let her move, literally anything...and sirius on the other hand is in an awful mood cuz he had some family problem or some thing...he needs support and the reader or Remus aren't there to help him out..and jamesie? Well he had a quidditch match and lost that and is in an equally depressive mood...they all need the reade..but she isn't able to comfort them all...

Sirius becomes and and shouts at the reader...rmeua shouts at sirius for shouting at the reader and James (he can't shout, he's too sweet lol) argues with Remus for being to clingy to the reader...

And so they all get mad and stuff and go to other rooms of the house (lol)

This keeps on continuing until the reader lashes out on all three of them!!!

(p.s: u can totally not do it, if u don't like it lol)

my first request! I'm kind of nervous. My requests are open, and while writing this I realized how much I love them! So feel free to send them <3

Love can be overwhelming | poly! marauders x reader

slight angst / a bit of fluff

word count: 1.8k

CW: mention of abusive household

part 1, part 2 , part 3

When you started dating the Marauders, the first thing that your friend Dorcas said was to beware, polyamorous relationship could be tough. At first, you brushed her off: you knew that, but your love for the boys would have overcome everything.

Or at least you thought so.

You have been experiencing the worst week of your whole life, you were stressed over your head with schoolwork, wanting to stay on top of your class but, also, struggling too, and this time, your boyfriends weren’t helping at all.

It all started with the fact that, obviously, it was the week before the full moon, meaning that Remus was extremely on edge, but also clingy. Having an afternoon for yourself was a luxury: the werewolf had to stay by your side all of the time. You didn’t quite get this clinginess, because he behaved this way only with you; he wanted to have the other two marauders near, of course, but he was fine as long as you didn’t wonder off, and sometimes he seemed to be a bit possessive over you. So, let’s say that if you felt the need to have some practice lessons for potions, he had to be there, and it didn’t matter if the professor didn’t want anyone else in the room with you: you had to choose between having him near you, or skipping the extra lessons you so desperately needed.

“Remus, I know it’s stressful for you, but you must understand I have to take this class. It’s not like I’m going to be gone all afternoon, I’m asking you for two hours maximum. You know that Slughorn doesn’t like having other people during these lessons, and he’s doing me a favour here” He looked like you just might have kicked him.

“I don’t understand why my partner suddenly doesn’t want me around.” You took a deep breath: truth was, you knew that he wasn’t being unreasonable because he wanted to. If his werewolf instincts weren’t acting up, he would have probably pushed you to take even more lessons, but now he wasn’t in his right mind. You had to chance tactic.

“Baby, you know that I love you, right? I love you so, so much” You took his face into your hands, you saw his expression visibly shift. “And I know it isn’t easy for you, I know that. I swear, if you go napping now, you won’t even notice I’m gone”

“But napping is way more fun with you” His voice turned sultry, his hands now groping your ass lightly. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of need, but now was not the time.

“Tell you what, I’m going to lay down with you until you’re asleep. I’ll give you some head scratches, then, when I’ll be back, you’ll have me all to yourself. Does this sound good?” His pupils were now a little bit wider; he nodded and hauled you on his shoulder, making you yelp when he made you fall on the bed. He positioned his head on your chest, a hand crawling underneath your shirt to grip one of your tits possessively, while the other one stayed underneath your ass, the tips of his fingertips hovering dangerously close to your core.

You knew that his hold wasn’t casual: he was trying to make you stay, knowing the effect that he had on you, but you couldn’t give in: you had to stay strong, because deep down you knew that, if you failed this exam, you wouldn’t be in the right mind to help Remus during the full moon.

You just had to get through this week, it was only 7 days, right? And most of today was gone, if the other boys would be helpful, as they always did, everything was going to be just fine.

You wandered off to the Great Hall for breakfast, exhausted. After the lesson with Slughorn, you came back to a very needy Remus, who took all of his clinginess out of you, leaving you sore and tired; while he slept soundly, though, you had to study and make up for the hours lost being supportive for your boyfriend, leaving you with about two hours of sleep in the last forty-eight hours.

“Hey girl, didn’t see you in our dorm room yesterday, oh what the fuck-“ Dorcas looked at you like you might have grown another head during the nighttime. “Babes, have you slept? Like, at all?”

“No, I haven’t. Remus is being extremely clingy, and you know that I’m not the best when it comes to Potions. Given the fact that the test is going to be next week, I barely have time to rest” She scoffed, but you interrupted her before she could start. “I know that James and Sirius should help, but he’s being this clingy only with me, and they can’t do much about that; plus, the upcoming game is stressing them out so much, yesterday they came to bed after practice, they didn’t even eat anything. I just want to support them”

She sighed. “I know baby, but try to not burn out, okay? If you need any help, I’m here, you know? Now, let’s go eat something”

You were happy to share some time with her and your boyfriends, but when you sat next to Sirius, one look at him told you anything that there was to know.

He didn’t greet you, didn’t sport his usual smirk: he was looking down at his plate like it might have held the answer to all his problems, while James looked at you preoccupied. Remus just held you close to himself. You tried to peel yourself away from his embrace, to not avail.

“Sirius, baby, do you want to talk? We can skip the first few hours and go on a walk to the Black Lake?” Now he was looking at you, his eyes were red and puffy, you tried to not cringe at his expression.

“It’s okay, Y/N, just the usual” You hated how he always seemed to shut down, not wanting to share his problems with you. As you tried to reach for his hand, Remus snatched you back, holding you close to him: you could see the moment in which Sirius shut you out for good, and you wanted to kick Remus for it.

“I’m going to handle this, you’re going to think about Remus, okay darling? Then I will report back to you, I swear” James whispered in your ear, You took a deep breath, nodding: you were thankful for him, but you still didn’t want to make Sirius feel like he couldn’t count on you.

You had the time to eat a biscuit before you had to head to class, Remus trailing behind you. You just had to wait for a few days, a few days and all of this would be over, and you had James to help you get through this week. You would be fine, you told yourself.

On Wednesday, you were thankful that Remus had an important herbology test, which gave you enough time to check in with Sirius. You entered their dorm room, spotting his curled frame under piles of blankets: you felt a pang of guilt, you swore your heart broke just a little.

Without making any sounds, you peeled the blankets off and wrapped your body around his, he startled in his sleep.

“Shh, baby, I’m right here. You’re safe, you know that? And I’ll always be here for you, no matter what” It was like you opened a faucet: his body started trembling, and then came the sobbing, he turned around and hugged you back, you caressed his head and back softly. After he quieted down a bit, you took his face into your hands, forcing him to look into your eyes. “Would you like for me to sing for you?” He nodded eagerly, burying his face in your chest, while you sang him a lullaby.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out. Your heart ached for your lover, you didn’t know what living in an abusive household felt like, and you sometimes even felt guilty over the fact that you had the most loving parents someone could ever asked for. You knew it was silly, but if you could, you’d swap family in a blink of an eye, everything to take this burden off of Sirius’s shoulders.

“Is he okay?” James whispered, startling you. He bent down, placing a soft kiss on your head. “I don’t know, Jamie. He had a breakdown, now he is asleep. I don’t know how to help him, I don’t want him to suffer like this every month.”

“I know, love, I know. You’re doing your best, and he appreciates it. But” He looked at you embarrassed, and you already knew what was going on, you sighed. “Remus just finished his test, and he’s going kind of nuts, he wants you by his side. You should go”

“Can’t he just come here, so we could cuddle?”

“I don’t know, love. This moon seems different, he got a lot more possessive over you. He just wants you for himself, I think we’re going to fix this before the next month, but for now, I think you should go”

You nodded, looking down art Sirius for the last time, before looking for Remus.

You prayed Sirius didn’t feel abandoned by you, but you still had James to count on.

On Thursday, you stayed in bed all day with Remus. You studied, of course, and he seemed happy to have you around. You didn’t see Sirius at all, given the fact that you stayed at your dorm, but you thought that James was handling him well.

Exactly, you thought, because, as you and Remus took your seats for the Friday’s night Quidditch game, after having studied all day in the library, you felt a bit anxious. You told yourself you were being paranoid, but deep down, you knew something was off, and when Sirius entered the Quidditch pitch, you knew he wasn’t okay. He didn’t come to greet you, didn’t even look at you, and when you shoot a glance at James, he just averted his gaze: you were fucked.

You took a deep breath and snuggled closer to Remus, his clinginess now comforting, as the game begun. From the first actions, you knew that they were going to lose: Sirius looked like he wasn’t even trying, while James was too preoccupied to check on him to score a single goal.

And as the game ended, you knew your night was going to be an awful one: Gryffindor just lost the game.

#sirius black #james potter #marauders #remus lupin #poly!marauders angst #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders x you

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sunnami · 7 months ago

Text

❝we can't be friends (wait for your love.)❞

[credits to @artofpan for the lovely art! title is taken from ariana grande's song, we can't be friends.]

summary. fortune favours the bold, so they say. but you're an awkward ravenclaw in yearning.

pairing/s. poly!marauders x reader (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)

word count. 11.4k

tags. childhood friends to ex-friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like remus and tonks, also a bit of spice ;3

note. asdhjf while im working on the last part of the time traveller au pls enjoy this fluffy piecee ueueue

‘TIS THE SEASON OF raucous jeering and gaudy paraphernalia in the corridors, the unmistakable scent of overly-polished brooms, mud trekking through the cobblestone floors, and jerseys soaked in sweat, rain, and grime after hours of vigorous training. The dreaded second week of school where arrogant fledglings end up in the infirmary on account of broken noses, dislocated shoulders, or sprained wrists.

In other words: Quidditch tryouts.

You’re just not fond of the havoc wreaked in every corner and alcove of the castle. But to your relief, the library remains untouched through it all.

Needless to say, you absolutely hate Quidditch.

It is a fact you simply will not elaborate on. The skies are blue, the grass blades are green; you and the Marauders are as different as night and day.

On your way to the library, the last bastion of academia, you weave past the crowd in the courtyard corridor, ears ringing from the shouting match earlier in the Great Hall for breakfast—something about the Cannons versus the Magpies. There’s a pile of books shoved inside your leather satchel, painfully bumping into your hip with each step you take. You traverse through the Romanesque architecture, blissfully unaware of the misfortune to come.

“If I study for Charms now, I can take a nap for the rest of the day,” You say to yourself, pensively tapping at your chin.

“Watch out!”

You barely have any time to react before a Quaffle comes crashing straight into your face.

“Merlin’s hairy arsehole—fuck!” There’s a sicky sound of bones cracking, a dizzying flash of white before your eyes, and something viscous trickling from your nose down to your lips. Your hands fly to your face—instantly flinching when you catch a glimpse of your fingers dipped in blood. Your eyes grow wide in panic, chest rapidly heaving—it’s only now that you realize that you’re sitting on the ground, textbooks laying haphazardly around you, shoulders quivering from the adrenaline. The crowd’s concerned murmurs are lost in the cacophony of hysteria.

“Move!”

To your rescue, is Alice Fortescue, a fellow prefect. She cuts through the onlookers of petrified first-years and nosey fifth-years. You have no doubt this incident will grace the school’s gossip column for the next few days. She grabs your arm and wraps it around her shoulder with ease. You’d write poetry of her gallant display, but you were too busy moaning in agony. She utters a few incantations to stop your nosebleed from worsening, though there’s not much she can do to help with the possible concussion.

“Did you know Bludgers used to be called blooders?” You mumble languidly, nearly crashing into one of the knight statues.

“I do now,” replies Alice, tightening her hold on your waist, the ghost of a fond smile on her face. (She’s missed you, actually—three and a half years of radio silence. There used to be a time where running into you in the Gryffindor common rooms was an everyday occurrence. Even the Ravenclaw prefects knew where to look first if they wanted to find you.)

After what feels like an eternity of trudging through the castle, you finally reach the infirmary. The matron, Poppy Pomfrey, shrieks in alarm at the sight of your soiled blouse and blood stained lips. She gently ushers you into her hold, guiding you to a vacant bed. Alice hangs back, awkwardly shuffling her feet, gaze worriedly trained on you.

“You may return to your classes, Miss Fortescue, thank you,” says Madam Pomfrey, tipping your head upwards and grimacing. “Oh, good heavens, what happened?”

Your head droops in her palms, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth—you must have bit your tongue earlier. You blubber pathetically, “Got hit by a stray quaffle.”

Wordlessly, Madam Pomfrey summons a vial from her stash in the cupboards. She hands the small bottle to you, uttering various healing spells under her breath with a deft expertise of someone who’s been doing this for years upon years now. “There,” says Madam Pomfrey, lips firmly pursed. “That should help with the fractured cheekbones.”

With—what?

As your eyes bulge out of your head, Madam Pomfrey looks over you once more, a floating quill at her side hastily scribbling on a parchment. “Concussion, mild blood loss, fracture in the cheekbones, broken nose cartilage.” She illuminates the tip of her wand, and moves it left and right in front of you. “Hmm. Any nausea at all, dear?”

“There’s a six point four chance I’m going to get amnesia,” You whisper solemnly, head hanging low as your voice cracks from the unbearable pain. “I don’t want to get amnesia.”

“There’s no need for you to worry about that while you’re under my care.” Madam Pomfrey gently nudges you to lay on the pillow. She hands you a folded blanket. “Rest now. We’ll keep you here until the morning in case your condition worsens.”

“I can’t.” You groan, sitting upright—Madam Pomfrey pushes you back onto the bed with a stern glare. “I’ve got to study.”

“And I’ve got three other students to tend to. Mister Lockhart has been dealing with food poisoning all week.” Madam Pomfrey places her hands on her hips, sighing sharply. She jerks her thumb behind her back—that’s when you notice that three certain people are staring back at you. Sirius Black and James Potter squeezing together in one chair—and miserably failing—and Remus Lupin, resting cozily on the infirmary bed with bandages around his arms and head. “And don’t even get me started on this one.”

“You love him, Poppy, don’t lie.” Sirius grins wolfishly at the matron. You make out the sunken bags underneath his gray eyes, pale lips and his unkempt heap of dark curls.

Pomfrey huffs exasperatedly. “It would be easier to wrangle a hoard of Hippogriffs than to keep you three out of the infirmary past visiting hours.” She spares you one last glance, nodding when she deems you safe and healthy—as can be, anyway. Gilderoy Lockhart rolls out of his bed, his cries echoing around the room, threatening to barf up his entire breakfast, and Madam Pomfrey is gone in an instant.

There is an awkward silence that envelops your side of the room—you roll over on your left, desperately ignoring the three of stares burning intensely into your back.

THE STORY GOES like this:

You know their names more than you know your own. Each morning finds them at the Ravenclaw common room’s doorstep—while waiting, Lily, Sirius and Remus try to figure out the password as James attempts to brute force his way in. (He had actually figured out the riddle minutes ago, James would just rather play along with his friends.) The blue-tied prefects watch endearingly as one of their first-years rush out of the tower, squealing deafeningly, and jumps right into the lion cubs’ embrace. (It’s not that Inter-House friendships are rare, it’s more common than one would think; usually, it just takes more time for the eaglets to break out of their shell.)

“I got a hundred and twelve!” You exclaim merrily, hair in disarray and eyes puffy from having just woken up. Lily grabs your hands; together, the both of you jump up and down, excitedly giggling in celebration of the success of your History of Magic essay. (You had ignored them for a day to focus on your homework—Sirius did not like that at all. It wasn’t as fun to play if one of their friends were missing. Gone off to study, of all things.)

The tale of your friendship may be an unsolved mystery to some, but to you, it’s like finding jigsaw pieces that perfectly fit together. Magic isn’t only centaurs in forbidden forests, or ceilings bewitched to look like the night sky—sometimes it’s stumbling into a random train compartment and shyly offering your bag of assorted treats. Next thing you know, Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon are constantly with you in the library, oohing and aahing over pages of the fantasy novels Lily had brought from the muggle world.

There’s rarely a day where you aren’t spotted in a sea of red and gold. Except when you’ve studied yourself sick—and the Marauders are never fond of that.

(“I’m sorry, she can’t come down today,” says one of the fifth-year prefects, Lalita Burman, a rather tall girl with intricate curls, brown skin, and eyes that stare into one’s soul. She wakes up to banging on the tower entrance, not even eight o’clock in the morning yet—on a Saturday. It doesn’t come off as a surprise anymore when she opens the door to five red-faced children. “She’s come down with the flu. Most of the firsties have, actually. Madam Pomfrey says they’ll get better by tomorrow but Alex and I have been running ourselves ragged looking after them.”

James Potter narrows his eyes at her. “Okay. Then we’ll go inside.”

“Maybe we can help,” says Remus.

Lalita holds up her hand to stop them from barging in. “That’s really sweet, but we can’t risk any of you getting sick as well.”

Sirius stands on his toes to spy past Lalita’s shoulder, frowning when he finds nothing of importance—or really, when he can’t find you. He couldn’t wait to call you stupid for getting yourself sick—you just missed out on frog hunting. “That’s alright.” He huffs, shoulders slumping dejectedly. “Our immune system can take it. Will you let us in now?”

Her eye twitches. “Come back tomorrow.”

With that, she slams the door in their faces.

The Marauders then declare you are never, ever allowed to get sick again.)

Your second year in the castle creeps up on you without you noticing.

“Remus Lupin, I am going to kill you!”

No one bats an eyelash when you stalk up to the Gryffindor table, twelve years old and on a mission, fresh from the summer holidays. You slam your hands down onto the table, eyes ablaze as Remus stares at you, head resting on his palms, shaggy blond hair falling over his brows—no thoughts, head empty, just sheer adoration.

“Hello there, stranger,” Remus says, grinning fiendishly. “You look rather lovely—did you have a good holiday?”

You scoff, pointing an accusatory finger at him—Peter watches at the scene with wide eyes, slowly chomping on his shepherd’s pie, not an inkling as to what was going on. “Don’t try me, Lupin!” You exclaim sternly. “That book you gave me—you said it would have a happy ending! Tell me why I stayed up until bloody five o’clock in the morning crying me eyes out! You. . . you—!”

“Wanker, dingbat, berk, git,” Lily supplies helpfully with an innocent smile, pulling you down to sit with her. “And my personal favorite—toerag.”

You gape at the pretty redhead, jaw falling to the floor. “How do you even know these words?”

She hums nonchalantly, spreading blueberry jam onto her buttered toast. “A lady must arm herself with the necessary ammunition.” Lily points to a certain pair of boys—James and Sirius are currently engaged in an eating contest, shoveling pancakes after pancakes inside their mouths; so far it looks like Sirius is winning. Lily sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, “Especially if she wants to survive that kind of company.”

“Him, even more,” says Lily, gesturing to Remus. “He may be Professor McGonagall’s golden boy but I see right through him.”

“What can I say?” Remus smirks, helplessly shrugging his shoulders. “I’m a monster.”

Lily glares at him.

Then, you turn thirteen—the dreaded age. Suddenly, you’re dealing with oily skin, acne, body odor, hair growing out of places you didn’t even know could grow hair, hormones messing up the way you look at everyone else—something awakens in you the day you see Dorcas Meadowes in the Quidditch pitch wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck—and hormones messing up the way you look at yourself.

Everything is starting to change.

You usually never blink twice when James wraps his arms around your waist, laying his head on your shoulder. Except this time, he’s gone from a gangly bean sprout, to a heartthrob with perfectly messy hair, newly defined muscles from his countless hours of Quidditch training, charming smile, eyes that one could get lost into for hours, and a tantalizing scent of mint and bergamot.

“Are you really not going to our game this Saturday?” James whispers in your ear—the five of you had been hanging out in the library.

You sigh. “Can‘t. Sorry.”

“Scared your House is going to lose to us, pet?” Sirius teases from where he’s sitting backwards on the chair next to you, engrossed in twirling locks of your hair around his finger.

You bristle at the nickname—they have been brazen with the endearments lately, you’ve noticed. “It’s not like we’re going to win anyway,” You mumble, tapping your quill on the empty parchment—there’s never any work done while they’re around. “There’s only a sixteen point seven percent chance of Ravenclaw winning against Gryffindor.”

James wrinkles his nose, now sitting on the edge of the table. “Percent, shmercent. What matters is how everyone plays that day.”

He kicks his legs against yours, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “So, will you come watch?”

“We have that History of Magic project, remember,” You say defeatedly. “I need to get started on it this week otherwise I’ll be behind all the electives I signed up for this year.”

Lily frowns, looking up from her own homework to glance at you in concern. “How many did you even pick?”

“All of them.”

“What?” Lily screeches in terror, suddenly rising from her seat to lean over the table. “How is that even possible? How did McGonagall even allow that?”

“Professor Flitwick,” You correct, wincing when Lily and Sirius glare at you. “It took a lot of convincing, but eventually I wore him down. All I had to do was rework some of my class schedules and promise him over a thousand times that my wellbeing wouldn’t ever be compromised by my studies. Otherwise he’d take back his decision.”

Remus doesn’t seem all too happy. “No wonder we don’t see you at Transfiguration anymore.”

“Or in Kettleburn’s class,” Peter pipes in.

“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be taking that many classes at once?” Remus grimaces, sharing a worried look with James. “The limit is three, and even that is too much to handle.”

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

(Peter knows a lie when he hears one.)

James tenses up, jaw tightening. “So you’re saying you’re going to miss a game because of school? Like all the other times? That’s bullcrap!”

Remus hisses his name in warning.

Tears prick your eyes instantly—you’ve heard him speak like this when quarreling with Slytherins, but never to your face. “That bullcrap means a lot to me, Potter. You’d understand that if you took your studies seriously more than just going around and playing silly pranks on everyone!”

James scoffs. “Like how you take us seriously? Did you know that Lily is the youngest ever to be invited to Slughorn’s club? Yeah, she got the invitation last week. Did you congratulate her for that when she was staying up late with you to revise for your practical test in Herbology?”

“I—” You stammer, guilt pooling in your stomach.

“No, you didn’t.” James sneers. “You only see yourself. Do you know what Remus has been going through? Do you even care?”

“That’s enough, James,” Lily says vehemently.

“Well, if you think like that, maybe we all should just stop being friends!” You retort.

Before anyone else can reply, Madam Pince comes around the corner, and everyone falls silent—a tense atmosphere that threatens to choke you. With a heavy heart, you gather your belongings and run out of the library.

The months pass by, and Frank Longbottom wonders why he doesn’t wake up at midnight anymore to find five students having a sleepover in the common room with a certain eagle, each of them trying to contain their giggles and failing. (One time, the Prewett twins had run down the stairs in panic, only to find you and Peter screaming from Remus’s theatrics in telling his ghost stories during an awful thunderstorm.) You no longer visit the Gryffindor table at breakfast, and they no longer wait for you after your classes.

“It’s probably just a tiff,” says Alice to Mary Macdonald. “They’ll make up—they always do.”

Mary nods, though unsure—while Peter is gut-wrenched about it all, the other four in particular seem like heartbroken puppies when you enter the Great Hall and barely acknowledge their presence.

The snow melts and time catches everyone unaware.

“I can’t believe I’m going to graduate and you idiots haven’t made up yet,” Lalita sighs as she pulls you in for a hug. In a few weeks, she and the other seventh-years are due to leave; you’ve grown real close with her over the past few terms. Her departure is going to be truly difficult for you to handle. “Just talk it out with them, okay?”

You sniffle, holding onto her robes. “I’m trying, but they’ve been ignoring me, too.”

Lalita squeezes you tighter. “Don’t worry. These kinds of things have a way of sorting themselves out.”

At the end of the term, you present your final project to Professor Binns. The ghost nearly returns to life. It was a research study on the Evolutionary Analysis of Magical RNA Manipulation in the Catalonian Fireball. Days after your paper is published, you’re featured on the Daily Prophet; dragon tamers and professors from Spain are owling you letters of praise and congratulations. It goes without saying that such a feat had naturally catapulted Ravenclaw to the top, ultimately winning the House Cup.

(But what you don’t tell everyone is that you’re so severely burnt out after that—to the point where you didn’t want to ever pick up a textbook again. For the first time in forever, learning had become a chore, not a passion. You’d been puking out of anxiety, hands trembling as you forced yourself to write on the parchment, the sides of your fingers constantly swollen and raw. You’d study until four o’clock in the morning, and wake up an hour later to complete all of your homework. You’ve begun to masquerade as the ghosts of Ravenclaw Tower; lifeless and indifferent. Xenophilius and Pandora fuss over you, but you just lock yourself in your room and say: “I’m tired.”

Perhaps, it is why Professor Flitwick isn’t surprised when you withdraw from most of your electives.

“The pursuit of knowledge is a rewarding journey,” says Professor Flitwick on the day you visit his classroom—hours away from needing to be on the train platform. He sighs and sets his spectacles on the table. “But it is a perilous one, too. I trust that you have understood the consequences of your actions. As a teacher, I can only offer guidance when it is needed. The other professors may disagree, but I find the best learning method to be, what is it the kids say—fuck around and find out.”

You snort.

Professor Flitwick chuckles, quite pleased with himself. “If I may be so bold as to leave you with another piece of homework, I would like to ask you to truly enjoy the holidays. I hear the summer is a time for discovering new things about oneself, for new beginnings and growth. After all, learning does not happen only within the castle grounds.”)

Later that day, you board the express, purposefully choosing the farthest compartment where you know they’ll be staying in. You share the cabin with two people whose names are Regulus and Narcissa Black—this is the first time you’ve ever met them. Narcissa shares her green tea flavored candy with you. Afterwards, you spend the rest of the ride back to King’s Cross asleep.

(Right before the train arrives, Remus is nervously searching for you in the crowd of people.

“We’ve got to say goodbye, at least.” Lily nibbles on her lower lip uneasily. She once joked that she could find you anywhere—as if you two had a red string tied around both your pinky fingers. Now, it seems you’re too far away for her voice to reach you.

James drops his head down in shame. “I never got the chance to apologize.”

“She’ll appear somewhere,” says Sirius unwaveringly with a nod, taking Lily’s heavy suitcase from her as steam whistles are heard in the distance. “She could be in our special compartment, waiting for us right now.”

“Are you sure?” Peter questions dubiously.

“Of course I am, she’s my best friend,” Sirius counters resolutely. “She’s there, I can feel it.”)

You’re fourteen when you return back to the castle—you hadn’t touched a single book throughout the summer, but you find yourself well-rested; you learn how to swim from your mother; staying up all night to accompany your family dog as she gives birth to seven beautiful puppies, and scratching yourself on the bark of sycamore trees with your poor attempts at climbing.

You find out that you don’t like Arithmancy at all, strongly preferring Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. You’ve also garnered a curiosity for Ornithomancy, the oracle reading of birds.

This year, you signed up for the Gobstone club, despite your unfamiliarity with the game. It’s led by a Slytherin girl named Haerin Seong. (It’s properly read as Seong Hae-rin.) She has pin-straight hair, a sharp nose, and the mouth of a drunken sailor.

You also decide that you want to become a professor after Hogwarts. The groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, belly laughs when you declare this to him one afternoon, right in the doorway of his hut.

“Well, go on then!” Hagrid bellows, patting you on the head. “Anyone who tries ter stop yeh has got ter go through me!”

On the dawn of your fifth-year, an owl delivers a prefect badge to your doorstep. Your father, born and raised as a Muggle, doesn’t understand the significance of this, but he cries harder than you on that Sunday morning. (“My child is a prefect!” He sobs into the telephone after dialing your aunt’s number.)

The fresh batch of Ravenclaw firsties aren’t the only new additions to the castle. According to the gossip mill, James and Lily are finally dating, so are Sirius and Remus apparently. (Then, months later, everyone would be shrieking about how they’re all dating. )

You hear of the news as you guide the first-year eaglets to their next class. You’re climbing up the spiral staircase when you see the Quidditch pitch through the window. They look like flying ants from this distance. You can imagine the wind in their hair, the tense muscles as they chase after the Quaffles, the crowd roaring in their ears, victory within their reach if they just fly fast enough.

You hate the way you envy them—how easily they soar up in the skies while you watch from below, much like a flightless eagle, shackled by your own shortcomings.

You hate Quidditch.

It’s bound by no rules, unpredictable and barbaric. Most of all, it looks down on the cowardly.

In your sixth year, you have your first kiss with a boy named Augustine Fenberry. It’s extremely short-lived and awkward. You date for three months until it’s unanimously agreed that you two are better off as friends—until you catch him laughing about you with his mates in an empty corridor, saying that you were clingy, too much, and needed to learn how to shut up. (You wonder if that’s why they grew tired of you, too.)

You handle him with a quick, “Entomorphis.”

It’s probably one of the more cruel jinxes; Augustine bawls piercingly as he grows antennas atop his head, the spell forcing him to get on his hands and knees; his friends hover around him in panic, but all Augustine can do is chirp like a grasshopper in the night. You wonder if you’ve gone too far, but Haerin tells you that’s exactly what Augustine is—vermin.

You also, with great satisfaction, deduct thirty points from his House—which happens to be Ravenclaw.

(Nobody knows this about Peter, but he’s nimble on his feet, a bit of a wallflower—and he is now the newest editor of Hogwarts’s newspaper column, The Golden Snidget. By the next day, everyone knows what he’s done. Argus Filch, who’s in charge of his month-long detention, should be the last of his worries. Peter sympathizes with the wizard—but only for a fraction of a second. Because it’s not even the werewolf Augustine has to be scared of, not the pureblood heir who could ruin anyone with just a lift of his finger; not the Quidditch prodigy with a sharp mind, knowing a thousand ways to seek revenge.

It’s Lily Evans.

“Go near her again and I’ll rip your balls off!” Marlene flips the bird to the group of cowering boys. “Matter of fact, if you treat anyone like that again, I will come for your bloodline.”

“Fucking toerag!” Lily wildly swings the Beater’s bat she had stolen from the Quidditch changing room. “If you even look at her, I’ll hunt you down and shove this up your arse—until you feel it in your throat!”

Peter shivers in fear. He didn’t ever want to be on the receiving side of Lily’s wrath.

“This is the same girl who cried for an hour when she saw the ducklings in the Great Lake separated from their mother,” says Remus, horrified.

“Honestly, I feel so, so conflicted whether to find this terrifying. . . or attractive,” James whispers to Sirius.

“Attractive. Definitely attractive,” Sirius responds breathlessly, all eyes on Lily.)

Gryffindor wins the House Cup that year, to no one’s surprise. You find yourself clapping along with everyone else, but can’t help it when your gaze drifts to the left-side of the Gryffindor table. You watch as Sirius lifts Lily in the air, her giggles somehow louder than the thunderous cheering, pressing a loving kiss to her lips. James stands on the table, encouraging everyone to sing more of his praises—there’s a split second where his eyes find yours, you look away immediately—as Remus covers his face with his palms, flushed from all the attention. After James, Remus had won the most points for their House.

They seem complete—a puzzle that never really needed another piece. (You miss them, heartachingly so.) Maybe it was for the best that all of you drifted further and further apart. You now forget the way they call your name.

And so, the story ends just like that.

YOU HAVE FOUND yourself in a very tricky position.

It’s past midnight when you wake up—you nearly scream bloody murder when James, Lily and Sirius materialize out of thin air. They stare back at you, frozen in place, unblinking for the last twenty seconds.

“Oh God, I’m hallucinating.” You cry to yourself, wrapping your arms around your waist. “I hit my head and now I’m seeing things.”

“No, no, no, no,” James stammers, shaking his head. “It’s an invisibility cloak—see?” He wears the cape, then abruptly takes the cloak off—his body disappearing and reappearing in time with his actions. “Not hallucinating, I promise.”

“That’s even worse,” You say hoarsely, on the verge of hyperventilating. “Y-You’re out past curfew—visiting hours are over. Someone could catch you. Madam Pomfrey will have your heads.”

Remus chuckles—he had missed your voice so bloody much. He barely contains his grin when you glare at him. (Finally, after three years, you look his way again.)

“We snuck in here to see you all the time,” Sirius tells you, the corner of his lips tipping into an overfond smile. “At some point, Poppy just stopped trying to keep us out.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Your gaze falls to the floor as you mousily toy with your fingers. The infirmary falls painfully silent. Again. You clear your throat. “Anyway, I–I should get going.”

“Oh.” Lily’s expression turns crestfallen, words cracking from the thick lump wedged in her throat. (This is the first conversation she’s had with you in years—one that isn’t awkwardly bumping into one another with shallow, hesitant greetings, before you scurry off like a timid squirrel.) “R-Right. But why don’t you have dinner first? We brought some from the feast and—”

“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” You rasp, slipping into your shoes and throwing your cardigan over your shoulders. (More than anything, you want to hug Lily and congratulate her for making Head Girl—but you have to wonder if it’s too little, too late; if the distance between you and her is too great to try and cross.)

You toss Remus a wary glance. There used to be a time where you could say anything to him, and now it feels like ice-cold hands are stapled over your mouth. “F–Feel better soon.”

“Thanks.” Remus coughs.

Sirius’s eyes bounce from you to Remus, mentally ripping his hair out from exasperation—this whole thing is going nowhere.

You sprint out of the infirmary without a word, hands trembling from the nerve-wracking encounter inside. You take a moment to catch your breath, to shove your heart back inside your ribcage, as you lean sideways on the wall. It’s like running into a pack of wild chimeras in the mountains bare-handed.

“That was so scary.” You breathe out deeply, clutching the front of your shirt tightly.

The loud call of your name slices through the hallway and you jump in fright.

Luckily, it’s just James—but just James sets your heart aflutter and your knees wobbly even after all this time. He bridges the gap between you in quick, long strides; murmuring your name once more like a prayer. “Hey,” James says quietly, as if afraid to spook you off.

You gnaw on your bottom lip anxiously, tucking your hands inside your pockets. “Hey.”

“Listen, I just wanted to say—back in the library, all those years ago. I’m sorry. Really bloody sorry. Sirius decked me in the face that day, which I definitely deserved.” James nervously scratches the back of his head. “It was stupid of me—and I never should have said any of those things. I know it’s been years since then, you don’t even have to forgive me. But I just wanted you to know—”

“It’s fine, James.” You cut into his rambling, having already forgiven him for that day. “Really. Water under the bridge.”

In fact, some of what he had said made you realize how much you isolated yourself without even knowing. “And, I—uhm.” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, too.”

James widens his eyes, then instantly shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”

A dark red blush spreads from his neck to his prettily carved cheeks. “So. . . uh. . . are we okay?”

“We’re okay,” You say and he exhales deeply in relief. “And James, I. . . I. . .”

“Yeah?” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he takes one more step towards you—achingly patient, but there’s a sense of urgency and desperation.

“I—” You look away and the words fizzle out in your throat. “Never mind.”

I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said that day. I miss you more than life. Thank you for staying by my side all those years—for being one of my best friends. You make me feel safe, James Potter. You are one of the most intelligent and caring wizards I know. How anyone can think otherwise is baffling to me. I’m sorry if I don’t let you know that more often.

“See you around, James.” With that, you turn and leave.

Perhaps, some things are better left unsaid.

(So why is your heart shattering into a million pieces?)

“TODAY, WE ARE GOING TO be interpreting messages from the divine!”

On a lovely Friday morning, Professor Nasenyana drags the class out to the grounds for a hands-on Divination lecture, the groundskeeper’s hut within sight. He unlocks the barn nearby, where flocks of various bird species take to the skies instantly. He’s a rather eccentric fellow with one of the friendliest smiles you’ve ever seen. Most of the Ravenclaws are also star-struck, hanging onto his every word. As it turns out, Nasenyana is a graduate from Uagadou, the top school for Astronomy and Divination.

“Ornithomancy—!” He proclaims, flashy cloak billowing, startling some of the Gryffindors from their sleep. “It is a form of divination that looks into the behavior of birds—celestial creatures blessed with the ability to traverse through the heavens and the earth. But, you see, it is more than that. It requires utmost concentration and mastery. To pass this class, you will need to—”

“I told you we didn’t miss anything important!”

“Pads, shut up.”

Sirius and Remus come rolling down the hill. Remus’s robes are disheveled, whereas Sirius’s tie is loosely hanging around his shirt, sleeves folded up. They nearly crash into Professor Nasenyana—who doesn’t appear to be pleased with their tardiness. You notice Remus’s flushed cheeks, the sweat running down the sides of his forehead, and the pinkish bruises on the column of Sirius’s neck.

Lily chortles.

Oh.

You blush deeply—that is so none of your business.

“Mister Black! Mister Lupin! So nice of you to finally join us.” Professor Nasenyana exclaims. “I trust that it won’t take you thirty more minutes to find a place to sit?” He gestures to the assembly of students sitting down on the grass, some shielding the sunlight from their face with the Divination textbook, and others transfiguring their school robes into a picnic mat. “Take your seats, gentlemen.”

“And that is five points from Gryffindor. Each.” Professor Nasenyana declares just as Remus and Sirius plop down on the closest patch of grass to them.

Which happens to be right beside you.

You pour all your attention on the teacher, and not how warm Sirius feels next to you.

“As I was saying,” Professor Nasenyana continues, hands folded behind his back, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “In order to pass this class, you will form groups of three where your task is to read each other’s fortune based on the information presented to you and document your findings. Everything you need for interpretation is in your textbooks. You will hand this assignment in after the winter holidays. I expect excellence from each and every one of you. Failure to comply will result in a Dreadful.”

Gilderoy’s arm shoots up in the air.

“Shall I guess your question, Mister Lockhart?” Nasenyana grins blindingly. “Your groups will be determined by fate—those closest to you will read your fortune, and you theirs.”

He lowers his arm with a bright blush.

You, however, are frozen in place, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a robe strewn over your lap—you even hold your breath from the shock. Fate must be mocking you right now. Spending the next few weeks in close proximity with the boys who held your fragile, little heart in their hands.

How fun.

Not.

FOR THE FIRST TIME in forever, you don’t pay attention in Charms.

The thought of working with Remus and Sirius haunts you so much that you burrow your head in your arms for the entirety of Professor Flitwick’s lesson. Your seatmate, Xenophilius, watches in horror as you flub the enunciation for Ascendio. Thankfully, no one is accidentally flung into the air—except for Gilderoy who is unfortunately blown away from his chair.

“Sorry.” You twinge empathetically as he climbs back onto his chair, glaring at you.

Xenophilius nudges your shoulder, whispering, “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” You respond hurriedly, almost choking on your spit. “What ever gave you the idea that I was not fine? I’m bloody fantastic even. The sun is shining, fishes are swimming, and there’s not a single thing out of the ordinary in my life.”

“It’s cloudy outside,” Xenophilius says impassively. “And Lockhart is looking at you like you’ve just attempted murder.”

“Lockhart always looks like that.” You brush him off with a wave, busying yourself with flipping the pages of your Charms textbook.

Xenophilius pokes you in the side. “You are avoiding the subject. Is it because of Lup—”

“Ascendio!”

This time, it’s too perfect of an incantation that even Merlin weeps from his grave.

At the end of class, you’re greeted with yet another surprise. Just as you leave the classroom, you find Sirius and Remus standing in the corridor, so absorbed in conversation that they don’t notice the sixth-year girls giggling as they walk by—either that, or they have had plenty of practice when it comes to ignoring attention from the entire student body. It’s not like you can blame everyone else—they’re a duo carved by heaven’s finest.

Sirius realizes instantly when you walk out of the doors. He smiles blazingly at you, instantly rising to his feet, hands shoved inside the pockets of his trousers. You can’t believe this is the same boy who’d give you piggyback rides down the hallway. Dark layered curls tumble messily past his shoulders, a smidge of dark liner around his eyes, multiple piercings in his left ear. He’s grown taller, certainly more confident, too.

“Ready to go, pet?” He asks, as if casually inquiring about the weather.

“Go?” You echo, nonplussed. “Go where?”

“Birdwatching, obviously.” Sirius grins devilishly before grabbing your hand and leading you to the courtyard, Remus hot on your heels—who, for some reason, now has your bag hanging from his shoulders.

“D-Do I even get a say in this?” Truthfully, you had thought that you could finish the project without meeting up. Ever. You even think of collaborating with them via owl; staying far, far away from one another. So that none of you get hurt again, and you don’t risk another heartbreak.

“Not one bit, darling.” Sirius looks back at you and winks—this cheeky bastard!

You’re in a daze by the time the three of you reach the middle courtyard. Sirius happily plonks down under a tree, further unbuttoning his shirt until a hint of a tattoo peeks out—you gape. Remus chuckles before urging you to sit as well, before he settles on your other side.

“This is nice,” says Sirius as he leans his head against the tree trunk, eyes closed. “Bloody missed this.”

“Missed what?” You dare to ask, heart hammering in your chest.

He opens one eye, cheek dimple flashing. “Being by your side.”

“Oh.”

One does not respond to that, actually. One just simply passes out and fades away.

And as you typically do when facing hardships in life, you ramble about homework. Clearing your throat and staring straight at the earthworms crawling out of the mud, you say, “So, about our project. . .”

“I was thinking we could get started on it next Saturday,” You splutter, fiddling with your fingers. “Or I could start on everyone’s reading and we’d put it on paper sometime next month—but I could do that myself, too. I-If you wanted. Just so that it’s easier for everyone. We really don’t have to rush, honestly.”

“Procrastinating on schoolwork?” Remus laughs heartily with a slow shake of his head, stretching his long legs on the ground. “Who are you and what have you done to our best fr—”

The word falters on his tongue, and his smile fades into a somber line.

To save everyone from the awkward tension, you carry on, ignoring the way Sirius stiffens, “If you want to start early, I can head to the library after lunch to find some books on Ornithomancy. The more references we have—”

“What happened to us?” Sirius interjects gravelly.

You let out a deep sigh.

You suppose this conversation has been a long time coming, given lions and their stubbornness.

“It’s simple,” You say gingerly. “After that. . . that day, the distance kept growing and growing until we went our own separate ways without looking back.”

A single teardrop slides down your cheek before you can stop it. “You changed. I changed, too. The difference was, you all had each other while I had no one.”

(Though Pandora and Xenophilius were the truest and most honest friends one could ask for, they didn’t hold your soul captive the way they did.)

Sirius stares at you as if you had just spit acid; a thunderstorm forming within his gray eyes, his jaw locking painfully.

“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Remus asks softly, leaning forward to offer you his handkerchief. His voice sounds strangled—as though your words physically torment him. He pulls away just as your gaze falls on his.

“That’s what happened, though. But I suppose it doesn’t really even matter anymore.” You flinch away, electrocuted from his touch.

There’s a stretched silence that blankets the three of you. It carries on for a few minutes, the breeze flowing by, and the slow, clamorous bell chiming in the distance. You’re about to speak up when Sirius breaks the quietude first.

“Be ready,” He says decidedly, looking straight ahead.

“For what?” You ask in disbelief.

Sirius drags a hand through his hair with a loud exhale. He rests his elbows on his knees, chin carelessly set on his palm, eyeing you intensely. “We’re going to prove you wrong from now on.”

“What exactly are you going to prove?”

Sirius chuckles, coiling a strand of your hair around his finger. “That it’s always been you and us for life, princess.”

Merlin’s saggy balls.

THE GRYFFINDOR TABLE descends into a coalescence of wide eyes and rapid, hushed whispers when you arrive sometime during dinner. It’s not out of your own volition, of course, but your own duty and responsibility as prefect to return the handkerchief that Remus had lent you earlier this afternoon. You hoped it would be a quick in-and-out; dishing out more forced smiles, and some half-baked banter until you could finally run away, tail tucked between your legs. Like most things in your life, it does not go the way you want.

“You could keep it, if you want,” says Remus, hesitantly taking the embroidered cloth from you.

If the world knew how many trinkets Remus Lupin had gifted you during your friendship, you would be swimming in gold—and cursed letters from his devoted fangirls.

“That’s alright. Thank you.” You placate him with a crooked grin, the words spilling from your lips like a jumbled mess. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon and Fabian Prewett nudging each other’s shoulders whilst pointing at you, keeping their heads low. You have no idea what that’s about.

“Well. That is all. E-Enjoy your dinner.” You nod, mentally patting yourself on the back for not passing out in the den of lions. “Goodbye.”

Though the Ravenclaw table is placed next to Gryffindor’s, you have the bright idea of sitting with your backs to them, lest you engage in a round of cloddish staring contests with the Marauders. Just as you pivot on your heels, ready to make it to Pandora’s side, an achingly familiar voice calls for your name.

“Wait!” Marlene is partially out of her seat, bright blonde hair in a loose, messy braid; hand outstretched, as if reaching out to you. Her pale cheeks blossom with shades of scarlet as she receives miffed glares from the students nearby—such is the curse of a Gryffindor; if this were a fantasy novel, they would be the perfect protagonist. “Why don’t you eat with us? F-For old time’s sake. It’s been so long and I really would like to catch up with you.”

Your resolve nearly crumbles. This is the same girl who would bring sweet candies in her pocket in case you got hungry during class. But, if this were a fantasy novel, you would only be an extra; fated to walk a path so different from the likes of James Potter and Lily Evans.

“Maybe next time,” You say, unconvincing to even your own ears.

FROM ACROSS the Great Hall, another conversation is taking place.

“I am telling you, Minerva, I caught them talking again in the infirmary,” says Poppy Pomfrey to her fellow teacher, a spry grin on her kind face.

“Poppy, as I’ve told you, I do not make a habit out of discussing my students’ personal lives,�� McGonagall replies tiredly, slicing into her dinner plate of steak and kidney pie. She pauses for a few moments, before pushing up her spectacles with a wrinkly smile. “But, perhaps, I’ll let this slide just this once. Tell me all about it. I’ve also heard that—”

“ACTA NON VERBA.”

Deeds, not words.

Truly a befitting password for the House of bravery and recklessness. The Fat Lady’s portrait gasps in delight, raising her champagne glass to you. Seconds later, the Gryffindor common room is revealed to you. (Most of the Ravenclaw prefects have the House passwords memorized, in case they encounter a lost student outside the dormitories who has forgotten the passcode. It happens more often than one would like. Although it isn’t just first-years who are often stuck outside. You’ve stumbled upon Frank Longbottom many times before in a heated argument with the Fat Lady.)

“Oh!” Alice, bundled up in a red scarf and a wooly jumper, is startled to find you at the entrance. She breathily says your name, eyes crinkling as she smiles widely. “What a pleasant surprise! Oh my Gods—it’s so nice to see you again. How’s the head? Last time I saw you, you were bleeding everywhere.”

“I didn’t get amnesia. So that was good.” You head inside the room, instantly enveloped in a familiar warmth, a welcoming hug as if you had never strayed far. “Thank you. For that day, I mean. For bringing me to Madam Pomfrey.”

She waves you off. “Don’t mention it.”

“But. . .” Alice cocks her head with a conniving smile. “Don’t tell anyone else this, but when James found out it had been the Gryffindor team’s co-captain who hit the Quaffle your way, I heard James put him through some intense training. He must’ve had to run a hundred laps around the pitch for a week straight. Poor guy even had to wash everyone’s jerseys without magic.”

“What?” You shriek. “But it was just an accident. Surely, James wouldn’t—”

Alice tweaks your nose with a chuckle. “Oh, for you? He would.”

You have the strangest urge to throw yourself out of the tower.

You cough into your first, desperate to shift the conversation topic otherwise you’d spontaneously combust. “S-So, where’s Remus? We agreed to work on our Divination project here—if that’s alright with you and the others, of course.”

“Ha!” Alice exclaims, palming her forehead. “So that’s why the tower stinks of flipping perfume.” She snickers at your bewildered expression, before engulfing you in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you. You’re welcome here anytime, you know that.”

“Thank you, Alice.” You squeeze her back, giving yourself just this one time because you really did miss her.

Alice takes a step backwards before roaring loud enough to shake the ceiling. “Remus!”

“Get down here! Your girlfriend is waiting!”

You break out in a coughing fit. “I am not his girlfriend.”

“Not yet.” Alice winks at you, patting your cheek before skipping out the common room.

You hear the heavy footfalls of someone coming down the stairs. Moments later, you see Remus Lupin beaming at you, casually dressed, hair damp and tousled over his brows, broad shoulders stretching his white top, and fluffy, mismatched socks over his feet. He walks over to you in record speed.

“You came,” He says huskily.

“I did.”

“You look beautiful today.” Remus grins wolfishly, dimples poking out of his cheeks, flecks of light in his hazel eyes.

You blink owlishly, dumbfounded. You peer at your clothes—nothing fancy or experimental. “This is how I normally dress, though.”

“I know.”

Remus smiles, swiftly taking your bookbag from you. (Alice was right. He smells like a basket of green apples, old leather tomes, and sandalwood. Not that you mind.) You follow him to the couches by the fireplace.

“Where’s Sirius?” You look around the common room as you sink into the red sofa. There’s a pair of third-years playing chess, a young girl feathering her hand across the bookcase; sunlight streaming in from the tall windows.

But no sign of Sirius Black.

“Miss me, did you, love?”

Sirius chuckles into your ear—you jump out of your skin, clutching at your knees in fright.

“Merlin’s tits—!”

You gasp for air while Sirius and Remus laugh at your expense. “You fucking wanker!” You grab one of the quilted pillows as Sirius jumps over the back of the couch. “You’re an idiot, Sirius Orion.”

“There.” Sirius flops right down on the sofa; his hair tied up in a low bun, silver rings around his fingers. “Now you don’t look so bloody scared and nervous around us. We don’t bite, you know.” He pauses, then grins devilishly at you. “Unless you ask.”

You slap your palms against your lap. “Anyways—!”

Nostrils flaring as you take a deep breath—this is going to be a long day. You begin setting the parchments, feather quills, and Divination textbooks on the coffee table, along with a notebook where you had written some observations during the week. “When we were out—erm—birdwatching the other day, I noted down the birds that flew by for our readings. For Remus, it was a flock of Firecrests. And—”

“I’m very sorry, loveliest love, but none of this makes any bloody sense to me.” Sirius goes through the Divination volumes you had checked out from the library, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Tea reading, I can tolerate. But studying bird droppings really isn’t my thing.”

You glare heatedly at him, oddly defensive about the subject. “We’re not studying bird droppings, you plonker. There’s so much more to Ornithomancy than what meets the eyes. You see, nature connects everything. From the number of birds you encounter, to which direction they fly, their pattern of flight, down to the colors of their wings.”

You point to the glaring page from Snallygasters and Omens: Vol. 1 where a picture of a Jobberknoll jumps out. “This bird flies to the east because the east governs new beginnings and warm springs after winter. Blue wings symbolize reliability. One day in the future you’ll be tasked with a huge responsibility. A family could entrust their godson to you, who knows? You have to be clear-headed, Sirius. Your emotions can get the best of you if you’re not careful.”

Without even pausing to breathe, you say, “Remus. The firecrest. Smallest bird in the wizarding world, but will dare to fly higher than any other creature, even the king of birds. The firecrest and its flock were flying to the south that day, Remus. To the place of passion and life. Love. Beauty.”

“So it’s. . . it’s more than just bird droppings!”

By the end of it all, your chest is heaving, fingers trembling with adrenaline; Remus and Sirius gazing at you with stars in their eyes, devotion pouring from their growing smiles. (Oh, how their hearts beat for you.)

Sirius tips your chin with his knuckle, leaning closer until you feel his breath on your nose. “Welcome back, princess.”

NIGHT FALLS WITHOUT anyone’s permission. James, Lily, and Peter make their way back to the Gryffindor tower, patches of sunburn on their nose after spending the entire day outside observing bird flight patterns. Like Sirius, Lily has her mind firmly set against the philosophies of Divination; the mumbo jumbo not really all that comprehensible to her. As they enter the common room, her hand in James’s, they’re greeted by a rare sight—one that Lily didn’t think she would see again.

Sirius is sitting on the floor by the fireplace, wand tucked behind his ear, a pile of books at his side, his brows contorted in frustration as he drowns in the pages of When Fortunes Turn Fowl. He presses his finger to his lips when his silvery eyes fall on Lily and James, jerking his head to the scene across him.

Lily fails to bury her smile when she sees you snoring away at Remus’s lap, his fingers absentmindedly knitting through strands of your hair. The space is bedecked in loose pages with scribbled notes on them and ink stains on the carpet.

“I take it you three got further along than we did,” Lily whispers as she kneels beside Remus, softly nudging his chin as she captures him in a fond kiss.

Remus smiles into her lips. “A month’s worth of progress, at least. Thanks to this one here. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a bird the same way again.”

“Who knew our little eagle had a knack for Divination?” Lily chuckles, gaze softening as she delicately drags her knuckle down your cheek. “It’s getting pretty late. Should we wake her up?”

Remus shakes his head. “No. Let her sleep a bit more.”

Selfishly, Lily agrees. She traces the tip of your nose, the pillows of your lips, before retracting her hand with a long sigh. “We used to talk about anything and everything until the sun rose. Now, it seems like I can never catch up to her no matter how fast I run.”

“Lily—”

“Don’t worry,” says Lily. “I am nothing if not stubborn. She’ll know my wrath soon.”

Sirius snickers. “How charming.”

The fire crackles and you mumble something, deep in slumber, shifting in Remus’s hold, “Only one percent. . . of the world’s population is . . . is naturally redheaded.”

“Is that right?” Lily grins from ear to ear.

Just you wait, Lily is going to sweep you off your feet.

(Something she should have done years ago.)

“IS THAT A new jumper?”

Pandora simpers knowingly, heterochromatic eyes uncovering your every secret—the beads in her long braids click as she keeps in time with your brisk pace. She teasingly pulls at the oversized sweater. “It looks good on you.”

You narrow your eyes at her, watchfully twisting your arms around your waist. “It was cold this morning, alright? Remus lent it to me. It’s not a big deal. It’s what friends do, right?”

“So, you’re friends now?” Pandora muses. “Well, thank the Gods, because it has been excruciating watching you tiptoe around one another. It only took you lot three years, but it’s better than never, eh?”

“Wilderwood! No magic in the corridors! That’s five points from Slytherin!” You bark at the stubborn fifth-year who grins sheepishly at you, before you reply to Pandora, an ache forming at the back of your head. “It’s complicated. Everything was sort of awkward in the beginning.”

You think of last night, how Sirius was especially keen on making you laugh every few seconds; Remus would inch closer to you, head nearly on your shoulder as he peeks at the notes you’ve jotted down. You could barely think straight in their presence. Then, you remember waking up earlier this morning, James sprawled all over Sirius and Lily on the couch; Remus’s nose fully buried in his drawing book.

“But. . .” You trail off, remembering Remus’s arms around you as he sent you off, careful not to wake the others. (“I am a selfish bastard, pet,” He whispers into your hair, “I’m sorry, but let me steal this morning from them.”)

“It’s like coming home after a long day.”

“Brilliant!” Pandora exclaims, roughly laying her hands on your shoulders as she ushers you past the cobblestone walkway and into the grassfield, where the Quidditch Pitch rests in the near distance. You hadn’t even realized that you were a little ways from the castle already. “Tell them that!”

“What?” You squawk. “Are you mad, woman?”

You hear the sound of brooms zipping by at an unimaginable speed. The crowd clamors over the announcer’s intense commentary. Your legs feel like they’ve been jinxed to feel like jelly. You hate Quidditch.

“GRYFFINDOR SCORES! — That’s one-hundred and twenty in all! — Still no snitch yet! Hurry on, Potter! Mulciber’s got nothing on you– Ow! Professor! — Fawley heads for the goal! — Great deflect by Black! — Bletchley misses! — Another point for Gryffindor! We might as well end the game now!”

“Mr. Prewett!” You hear McGonagall scold into the charmed megaphone.

“Sorry, Minnie! Anyway! — Mulciber and Potter race for the Snitch! Potter reaches out! — Surprisingly good manoeuvre from Mulciber! — Come on, James! — He’s almost got it! — It’s right there!”

You wait with a bated breath.

The crowd goes absolutely wild.

“Potter’s got it! — GRYFFINDOR HAS WON!”

“Go on now, treasure. Before the Wrackspurts get inside your head again.” Pandora urges you forward, dusting the invisible creatures off your shoulders. As you take one step into the field, fireworks of gold and scarlet light up the sky, the Gryffindor teams’ cries of victory shake the ground; you hear Fabian screaming into the megaphone. Your fingers go numb. “Don’t let another day go by without expressing your heart,” says Pandora into your ear, almost a gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. “Go to them. They are waiting for you.”

“But what if they aren’t?” You watch as the sun descends on the Gryffindor team lifting James in the air, Golden Snitch in his gloved hand. Sirius catches Lily by the waist, twirling her up high; her smile more dazzling than any other gem you’ve seen. As James is set back down on the ground, he snatches Remus unaware and bends him down for a fervent kiss.

“Dora, what if I’m the only one who feels this way? I can’t do that to them. What are the chances that I’ll ruin everything? That would hurt more than anything.”

Pandora cups your cheeks and lays her forehead on yours. “You won’t ever know unless you go out there.”

With that, she pushes you into the Quidditch pitch.

You swallow the lump in your throat, ears ringing from the crowd chanting James’s name, and your heart pounding in fear.

“J-James. . .” You call out weakly as he drowns in the sea of students.

Perhaps it’s a sign.

This really wasn’t a good idea.

Love is a fool’s game.

Don’t you get it? They don’t need you in the picture at all.

“N-No!” You shout, chest heaving. If everything happens for a reason, maybe you were meant to meet in that train compartment all those years ago. You’ve lost three years with them already.

If you don’t go to them right now, you could lose a lifetime.

If bravery is for the reckless and arrogant, you’re prepared to be the most depraved witch in the castle just to stay by their side.

“James—!”

“Go, go, Gryffindor!”

You bite your lip in frustration—but you can’t just give up. Not now.

Once more.

“JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER!”

Please.

Time stops as you stand at the edge of the field; James whips his head around and finds you instantly. The glow of having just won a match doesn’t even compare when his eyes land on you. He pushes past his team members and some of the Gryffindor students, his gaze unwavering, some of them call out his name but he doesn’t bother looking back. Before you even know it, he stands in front of you, breathing heavily—but not from the rush of the game.

“You’re here,” He says, eyes disappearing into his smile. “But you hate Quidditch.”

“I do.” You grin wearily. “But I love you more.”

Without even giving James the chance to speak, you ramble on, hurricanes whirling in your stomach, “You’re a bloody brilliant wizard, James Potter. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that before. I see you. I see all of you. How could I not? I love you. I think I’ve loved all of you before I knew it was even love. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same w—”

James grabs the back of your legs and hoists you up, tendrils of hair falling over his glasses as he beams at you. The sun can’t even dream of competing with him.

“Put me down, James, I am going to hurl—!”

He spins you one more time for good measure before placing you on the ground. James barely gives you a second to gather your bearings as he seizes your lips with his own, hand cradling the back of your neck.

“You’re here,” He says, unable to believe his very eyes, gently chasing after your lips, breaths mingling until you don’t remember where either begins or ends. “Don’t leave. Please.”

“I won’t. I won’t.” You promise breathlessly as James pecks the tip of your nose, the arch of your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Beautiful.” He kisses you until you’re gasping for air. “And all ours.”

There’s not a moment where you don’t feel loved, not even when he lets you go, and it’s Lily who encompasses you in her arms, bright hair filling your vision; you willingly burn in the warmth of her body. The mellow scent of pomegranates and red roses fill your nose. You see a never-ending horizon of kindness in her emerald eyes. (How could you have stayed away for so long?) It’s like finding a missing piece of your soul that you never knew that was lost.

Lily laughs—it sounds like an orchestral symphony. Her gaze cascades to your lips, the prettiest of smiles on her face; she cradles the curve of your jaw with utmost sincerity, a few drops of tears shimmering against her freckled skin. “May I?”

“Please.” You feel her breath tickling your lips, deftly pulling you in for a kiss until all you can feel is her. She consumes every inch of you, and you are happy to surrender, heart and soul.

“You must be the thickest Ravenclaw I’ve ever met,” says Lily, giggling as she kisses you once, twice—thrice.

“And that means?” You scoff lightheartedly.

She steals another kiss from you. “That means: I hope you know that we have loved you ever since, you daft witch. That I’ve loved you all this time. And now that you’re ours, we are going to make sure you remember that. Every single day for the rest of our lives.”

You smile, holding onto her hand, dizzy with a hundred emotions. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

(Your Divination project is a point lower than Lily, Peter and James’s, but you find that it’s the luckiest fortune you’ve ever had.)

EPILOGUE:

“I LOVE QUIDDITCH!”

You are twenty-two years old, nose bitten from the chilly air, lounging in the best seating area the Quidditch World Cup has to offer; an unobstructed view of the players. The match is between the Brazilian and Japanese National Quidditch teams. Much to Sirius and James’s chagrin, your cheek is painted in yellow and green stripes, the vibrant flag around your shoulders.

You scream along with the crowd, nearly spilling your Butterbeer popcorn, as the Brazilian players enter the vast stadium. You ardently shake Lily’s shoulders. “That’s him! That’s him! Lily, it’s Brazil’s youngest ever Seeker! Vinícius Silva! I watched a replay of his matches and he’s got a seventy-eight percent win rate!”

“Watch out, love, you’ll fall off the edge if you aren’t careful,” Lily says worriedly.

“His fastest record for catching the Golden Snitch is ten minutes and thirty seconds! He’s won Most Outstanding Player in the Junior Division twice! I’ve got a good feeling about this team—I knew those auguries were a lucky sign.”

“The only Seeker you should be obsessing over is me.” You hear James grumbling behind your back, stealing a kiss from Lily’s lips before pressing his mouth to your cheek. “And you bloody well know that Japan’s Chaser, Kurosawa, is going to steal the limelight in this match. An average possession time of thirty seconds per play. A beast, that one.”

You wave him off, more confident in your statistics. “Did you place my bets? I’m telling you, we’re going to be rich.”

“Yes, darling,” He says, utterly loving his role as the dutiful husband.

Moments later, Sirius appears at his side, fussing over your scarf, and kissing you just because. “Can we take off your bloody hat now? I think you just blinded Malfoy and his little blonde gremlin.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?” You simper fiendishly before smacking his arm. “And don’t call your nephew that.”

Sirius grins.

You pull at one of his curls. “Besides, if you’re good you can take off everything later tonight.”

He pulls you in for a deep kiss, hand at your waist, nose brushing each other’s. “And that is why I love you, dear wife.”

You pout, albeit seeing right through his white, little jape. “Truly?”

Sirius lands another kiss to your forehead. “Are you doubting me, loveliest love of my life? The lighthouse in my ocean storms. The apple of my eye. Fire in my loins—”

You slap a hand over his mouth. “I get it, thank you, my love.”

Sirius beams from ear to ear. “Glad to have eased your doubts, darling.”

Thirty minutes into the match, Remus arrives, dressed in a muted gray suit, light brown hair flopping over his eyes. He greets everyone with a tired kiss.

You immediately wrap him in a hug, nuzzling your nose into his neck. He had a particularly difficult full moon some nights ago. You press a tender kiss to the scar right below his jaw. “How was work? Did you bring my binder? It has my lesson plan for next week, I don’t want to return to the castle unprepared, and—”

The newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor squeezes your waist. “Work was fine, pet. And no, I didn’t bring the papers because right now we are not working. We are going to watch Brazil win the bloody match and get right home to Harry after.”

You, the newest Divination teacher of Hogwarts, tug him by his necktie, smiling coyly. “Sounds like a wonderful plan to me.”

BONUS:

“REMUS!”

The empty classroom is filled with soft, fervid moans—two professors especially drunk on the taste of each other’s lips. You’re seated on the desk, Remus wedged between your thighs, his hand inching dangerously higher and higher; the other hand slipping under your shirt and thumbing the bare skin underneath. He captures your whispers and mewls with his lips. Jackets and ties are tossed carelessly to the side.

“So fucking beautiful.” He nips at your lower lip.

“Rem. . .” You whimper, tugging at the strands of his hair. “Remus—please!”

The door to the DADA classroom slams open and you two detangle from each other’s embrace in record speed. As you pat down your hair, Remus draping his blazer over your shoulders, you watch Lily and Harry stalk over to you in lengthy strides, reaching the both of you within seconds. You clear your throat, awkwardly averting your gaze from your son’s precious eyes; Lily, a moment away from throwing her head back in laughter.

Harry, fourteen, and not at all ignorant to what couples do in the castle alcoves, sees the ruffled hair, the lipstick over his father’s cheeks and neck, and his parent’s misbuttoned blouse.

He grimaces. “You two are disgusting, you know that right?”

You guffaw, pinching his cheek. “Now, is that any way to greet the person who’s changed your diapers since you were a baby?”

Lily cackles from Remus’s side, fixing the collar of his shirt. “Harry’s got a bit of a problem. Go on, tell them, my love.”

Harry immediately throws his hands in the air, groaning frustratedly. “It’s Ron! He thinks I put my name in the bloody Goblet—!”

“Which, I will still be having a word with Dumbledore about,” You say decisively. You’re not about to endanger your son. The Minister of Magic and the Headmaster be damned. They can also take it up with your husband, James, Head Auror of the Magical Law Enforcement department.

“And now Ron’s not talking to me, Hermione’s not talking to me because I’m not talking to Ron—Colin’s following me around everywhere I go! I’m going mad, mum!” Harry slumps on one of the empty chairs, huffing. “Stupid bloody tournament.”

You chuckle as you walk over to him, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. “Take it from me.” You press a warm kiss to his forehead. “Talk to them, otherwise you’ll lose time that was meant to be spent together. It doesn’t matter who was wrong or who was right. It’s important that you have the courage to reach out. They’re your friends. They will understand your heart soon enough.”

Harry blinks. “Thanks.”

He exits the classroom in a daze, heavily pondering on your words.

The door clicks shut, and Lily wordlessly locks the entrance. She turns to you and Remus, a sultry grin on her ruby red lips. “What are the chances we Floo home, and invite Sirius and James to join us?”

You take her outstretched hand. “A hundred and twelve.”

a/n. i wasn't satisfied with the angst here.. so expect a hufflepuff!reader and enemies to lovers next time (i promise to do better in the next fic aaakfsh) tell me what u thought of this one EUEUEU HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC!! heart heart

#poly!marauders x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #lily evans x reader #hp imagine #hp fluff #hp angst #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders angst #marauders fanfiction #sunny's hp fics #poly marauders #marauders x reader #james potter x reader

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