#sirius black slow burn

[wastelandmoony]

Déjà Vécu: Cough Syrup

Chapter Thirty-Six : Cough Syrup

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI.

TW for this chapter: mentions of abuse, mentions of SA, use of the word r*pe.

Déjà Vécu Masterlist

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The sound of muffled voices buzzed close-by, along with the smell of Earl Grey and laundry soap. She groaned softly as one of the voices drew closer. 

“Shhh…it’s okay.”

A gentle hand ran over the top of her head. Eyelids cracking open, the blurry image of Remus came into view. She lifted her head and tried to gaze around; the mismatched furniture paired with the homey smell signaled they were at Molly and Arthur’s house. “Relax, we’re safe.”

Groggily, she blinked at him, “W-what happened?”

“You were stupefied.”

She groaned again, shutting her eyes, “Fuckin’ Barty…”

Remus let out an exasperated chuckle, “You also got a nasty slice on your arm thanks to one of ‘em, but Molly was able to patch it up as best she could.”

Moving slightly, the pain in her arm had definitely dulled, though she now sported a large bandage wrapped around her bicep. “How’d we get back here?”

Remus sighed; he looked so tired. “I caught you before you fell, and just apparated to the first place I thought of.”

She raised an eyebrow, “Which happened to be Molly’s house?”

He shook his head, “Great Russell Street.”

“…The British Museum?”

Remus nodded sheepishly, “You love it there…anyway, it’s not important. Once I saw no one had followed, I brought us here. You were bleeding pretty badly, and I just knew Molly’d be the best that could help on such short notice…”

She took his hand and squeezed it, watching the tension in his shoulders ease. Sitting up slowly, the room spun only slightly as Remus held her shoulders steady.

“I’ll go grab Molly, she’d want to know you were awake. Prongs is here too, he’s standing watch outside—”

“—he should be at home with Lily! The baby could come any day—“ Her feeble protest was silenced by a commotion in the next room over. 

“—get the fuck off me, James—“

A dull thump, followed by footsteps.

“Where is she?”

“Calm down, mate. She’s fine, you can’t go in there acting like—“

“Where is she?!”

Sirius flew around the corner looking livid. The moment his wild eyes landed on her, every feature in his face softened. 

“I’m sorry…“ she started, as he kneeled before the small couch and cupped her face. His grey-blue eyes searched for any and all injuries, falling on the bandage covering the better part of her left arm. Sirius’ voice was soft as he brushed her hair back, “We’ll talk about it later…” 

As quickly as he’d arrived at her side, he was standing, turning to Remus. “You knew what the mission was, and you let her go?” Sirius’ voice began to take on a sharp edge, “You promised to keep her safe. We agreed.”

Remus visibly deflated a bit, mouth opening to speak before she intervened.

“He did keep me safe, he’s the one that brought us back here. Remus got us out—”

“You let her walk into a den of fucking wolves as bait!” Sirius shouted at his friend, not even acknowledging her statement. 

“She wasn’t bait, she had a cover—“

Sirius let out a bitter laugh, “As what? A little werewolf-sympathizer, there to support her poor, bitten friend?” 

“I work for the Ministry you fucking asshole,” she spat, blood beginning to boil at the minimization of her efforts, “Or have you forgotten? Too busy trying to play the fucking rogue hero all the time.”

Sirius’ eyes were blazing as he glanced over a shoulder, “Better than playing a faux savior.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“At least I’m not pretending to be making a difference.”

A sucker punch to the gut. All air had been sucked from her lungs as she stared at Sirius, the love of her life, suddenly a stranger. She knew how he got when he was this angry; the words just spewing out of him with no filter and no remorse until after-the-fact. It was a trauma response, one that was built over years and years of abuse growing up. She knew that, she’d accepted it and vowed to help him work on it. She’d just never been on the receiving end before.

“Don’t fucking talk to her like that,” Remus stepped closer, fists clenched at his side, “Just because she’s not going around blasting apart Death Eater strongholds, doesn’t mean she’s not helping. This mission gave us a lot of valuable intel, and it wouldn’t have been possible without her.”

Sirius continued to glare at him, “You let her walk into a fucking ambush!”

Remus shook his head, “It wasn’t an ambush, everything was fine and under control—“

 “Under control?!” She could hear the panic in Sirius’s voice, the shrill tone echoing throughout the room. For a split second, Walburga’s face flashed in her mind; a memory from years ago in Diagon Alley. The same tone Sirius’s mother had used to chastise her in the street was almost identical to the one he shouted at Remus with. The thought caused a shiver to creep up her spine.

“You let her walk into a room full of Death Eaters and fucking werewolves, without backup, and you want me to consider that ‘under fucking control’?”

She crossed her arms defiantly, “We’re fine. We just…had a little hiccup, but it all worked out.”

Remus nodded fondly, “Her quick thinking got us out of it. Everything would’ve gone smoothly if it wasn’t for Rosier and Crouch—“

Immediately, she felt the blood drain from her face.

Sirius slowly turned to look at her, and suddenly they were back in the Forbidden Forest, his wand at Evan’s throat. “Rosier did this to you?” He whispered. 

Uttering those two names was like tossing gasoline onto an already blazing fire.

He snapped his attention back to Remus, shoving him back into the wall, “Evan fucking Rosier?!”

Remus stared like he’d lost his mind. “Barty is the one that hit her. Both of them are working with the Death Eaters.” For a moment, they were silent, the only sound being the clock ticking softly in the back of the room. It happened almost in slow motion (at least from her still-mildly-dazed state) but before anyone could react, Sirius had launched himself at Remus, pinning him against the wall. He grabbed him by the shirt and they both began to grapple with each other.

Surging forward, she ripped at Sirius’s arm, trying to separate them. “Stop, it’s over!” 

Hearing the commotion, James rushed in and pulled his best friend away, not without some thrashing and empty threats. Sirius continued to glare at Remus from where he was being held across the room. The latter stared back, in a state somewhere between rage and confusion and hurt. 

She didn’t move, just watching as Sirius’s began to burn from the inside. A muscle ticked in his jaw as he inhaled a deep breath.

“They still don’t know, do they? Just another one of your little secrets you seem so keen on keeping…” He was going for blood, something she should’ve expected; Sirius always bit back.

“Stop…” the plea came out as a whimper, tears beginning to fill her vision. Remus shifted beside her.

“Why don’t you tell them? Tell them what happened in the forest—“ Sirius cocked his head, taunting her. There was a sheen of cruelty in his eyes, one that had become more frequent as the war raged on. It was the same one she had always seen in Regulus.

“Tell us what?” Remus looked between the two of them, the tension in the air close to catastrophic levels. She shook her head slowly, eyes shooting daggers at Sirius.

He held her gaze as he fired the killing blow, “About how Rosier tried to rape her during 6th year.”

“You’re a fucking bastard,” she hissed, fists clenched as she tried to not wrap both hands around his throat. 

Sirius ignored her, “Rosier, Crouch, and Mulciber lured her into the forest and held her down—” Remus had gone pale. “—and you let her walk into an unsupervised, unarmed, unprotected meeting with two of them. Way to go, Moony.”

She couldn’t stand being in the room anymore, not as Sirius spewed his venom, not as Remus and James looked at her with such pity that she wanted to throw up. Pushing past them, she fled toward the front door and out into the night, breath coming in giant heaving gasps as she spiraled into a panic. 

———

August 1st, 1980

The morning after the mission, she woke up in Remus’ bed, her best friend sprawled beside her with his arm wrapped protectively around her body. After apparating back to the flat the night prior, she’d fallen asleep curled on the floor of his bedroom, having cried so hard it was surprising she hadn’t vomited. Barely lucid, she vaguely remembered him entering the room quietly and carrying her to his bed. She’d been staying in there ever since, barely leaving out of fear of seeing Sirius.

Slipping out of his bed a few days later, she grabbed one of Remus’ sweaters from the floor and threw it over her t-shirt to ward off the morning chill (or was that a side-effect of the numbness she felt in her bones). The flat was quiet as she padded down towards the kitchen, desperate for a coffee. Her bedroom door was open, the bed vacant as she cautioned a glance inside; the covers were rumpled, and she didn’t miss the almost-empty bottle of firewhisky on the bedside table. The living room was empty as well. Sirius wasn’t here. She didn’t care, nor did she want to waste the energy trying to worry about it. 

The nutty-rich smell of coffee filled the small space as she leaned against the kitchen counter, trying to quiet the buzzing in her head. The scent must have reached the back bedrooms, because no sooner than she’d poured a cup, Remus trudged in, rubbing his eyes and yawning widely. He placed a gentle kiss to her head, pulling another mug out of the cabinet and helping himself. They sipped in comfortable silence on opposite sides of the kitchen, a lot left unsaid from the other night, neither wanting to touch it with a 200-meter pole at the moment. 

“He went to Peter’s,” Remus muttered.

“I don’t care, Moons,” she sighed. 

He hummed, “Yes, you do.” She shot him a glare as the mug was brought to her lips. 

“Lily had the baby last night,” changing the subject, he set his cup down on the counter, a tiny bit of hope gleaming in his eyes. 

She almost dropped her mug, “What?! Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shrugged, and she caught the pity in his expression briefly, something that hadn’t been there until recently. She hated it.

“You were sleeping when James sent word, I didn’t want to wake you.”

He’d been doing that a lot the past few days, letting her sleep for hours upon hours, knowing she was doing it to escape. She swallowed and avoided his eyes.

“Prongs is a dad,” he said in whispered disbelief, shaking his head slightly.

“Jesus, that’s terrifying,” she laughed, eliciting a grin from Remus. 

“We’re going over today to see them…all of us,” he said quietly.

“Bold of you to assume I’m joining.”

He gave her a sidelong glance, “We both know you’d never miss the opportunity to meet Lily’s and James’s baby.”

One eye roll later, they finished their liquid breakfast and began to prepare for the day, her ears constantly searching for the sound of a distant motorbike engine.

———

Later that day, her and Remus apparated to the Potter’s in silence, Sirius and Peter traveling separately. The second they arrived on the doorstep, she ran inside without so much as a knock. James was waiting in the entryway.

“Hiya,” he grinned. She’d never seen him glow like this, light practically radiated out of every pore of his body. 

She threw both arms around his neck, “Congratulations Jamie!” He hugged her back, swaying them both. 

“Thank you, he’s…he’s perfect,” he had tears in his eyes as she pulled away. 

“Where’s Lils?” She was anxious to see her friend, and the newest little addition to their band of marauders. James motioned up the stairs, and she quickly bounded up to the second floor as quietly as possible to not wake the baby. Soft voices could be heard coming from the last room at the end of the hallway, and she followed the sound to find her friend reclining on a large four poster bed, a small bundle cradled in her arms. As she pushed the door open wider, she recognized the familiar scent of smoke and spice, goosebumps cascading up her arms as she tried to ignore it. Sirius sat in an armchair near the top of the bed, eyes shooting to her as she entered. 

Lily looked up, “Hi,” she smiled. Remus and James entered the bedroom quietly, while she moved to sit beside her friend on the bed. 

Lily moved the blanket to show off the baby’s chubby little face and unruly dark hair atop his tiny head.

“Oh my god,” she whispered, “Lily…he’s gorgeous…” Tears welled as her friend beamed, the baby stirring in her arms.

“Want to hold him? He’s very calm, I’m almost worried that he’s not James’—“ Lily shifted to place the baby into her waiting arms, “—I’m joking darling, relax.” James was giving her a non-amused glare from across the room. Lily sat back against the headboard, watching as her friend held her son. 

“Meet Harry James Potter,” Lily smiled at her. Baby Harry nuzzled into the blankets, and she leaned down to kiss his forehead. 

“Hi Harry,” she cooed, running a finger over his soft black hair, “Welcome to this truly bizarre, but incredibly loving family.”

Remus chuckled from the foot of the bed, shifting closer to get a look at their friend’s new baby. Sirius moved to sit beside her (a bold choice if she was honest), peering at the little boy held in her arms. She could feel his body heat like a homing beacon calling to her. 

“I think he looks like you Prongs,” Sirius brushed a gentle hand over Harry’s head, “…how unfortunate.” 

Lily giggled.

“I swear Pads,” James said with barely restrained annoyance, “if you weren’t inches away from my son right now…”

Sirius smirked, focus turned back to the baby. Harry yawned, opening his little eyes to reveal twin versions of Lily’s exact emerald coloring. He reached out a chubby hand and latched onto her finger, simultaneously gripping her heartstrings as well. Everything terrible was forgotten; the war, the fighting, the deaths, the uncertainty. All of it melted away as she stared at this new little life, the perfect combination of her two best friends. Sirius must have felt it too, because he bent down and placed a soft kiss to her shoulder, never saying a word as he ran another hand over Harry’s tiny head. 

———

They apparated back home just before dinner to let their friends relax with their new baby. The mood between the three of them was still tense, but seeing Harry seemed to alleviate some of the animosity. Remus ushered her inside the house with a gentle hand on her lower back, Sirius following closely behind. 

“Chinese for dinner?” Remus asked to no one in particular. Sirius made a grunt of approval.

“Get whatever, I’m going to shower and probably go to bed early,” she was exhausted from the past few days, hell, from the past few weeks if she was being honest. Remus didn’t press as she left them both in the living room to meander down the hall towards the small bathroom. 

She let the water heat to near boiling before stepping under the stream, releasing an audible sigh as the scalding droplets washed away the leftover emotions. As she stood under the shower-head and inhaled the steam, the bathroom door opened.

“What happened to knocking?”

No response.

The door shut, and she continued her aquatic dissociation. The sound of shuffling beyond the shower curtain made her roll her eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” she groaned, “does nobody in this house respect boundaries?!” 

Fully expecting the person standing against the counter to be Remus, she froze when she ripped open the curtain to see Sirius staring back. He didn’t say a word as he stripped off his clothes and stepped into the shower. She glared at him, annoyed at his audacity. His face resembled nothing of the toxic person that had appeared a few nights ago, returning to the Sirius she fell in love with, the one that would do anything for her. He said her name as barely a whisper, the sound of which cracked her bitter shell.

“What are you doing?” She asked, voice still grasping at the remaining rage she harbored.

He moved closer, hand itching to touch her, “Apologizing…”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me,” she stared up at him, the spray of water warming her shoulders. 

He sighed, “Can I touch you?” There was an undertone of pain in his voice as he searched her face for an answer.

“No.”

“Then can I at least stand under the water with you, it’s fucking cold over here.”

“Also no.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and groaned, “Fine, I deserve that.” She hummed in agreement. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I didn’t mean for everything to escalate like that, I just…I was so afraid, I had no idea where you were—“

She cut him off with a hand, “Being afraid is not an excuse for the way you acted, the way you spoke to me. You don’t treat the person you love like that, Sirius.”

His dark hair fell over his eyes as he bowed his head in shame.

“I joined the Order just like you did, we took the same oath. I wanted to go on that mission, no one else could’ve gone with Remus and I wasn’t about to let him face it alone. You of all people should understand that—”

“I know, I’m sorry—“

“I only lied to you because I was sworn to not say a word of it to anyone other than the people directly involved. God, it was eating me alive, Sirius.” She dipped her head back into the stream of water to center herself again. “We both knew the risks when joining the Order, we knew that we’d be under a constant threat of danger and need to make sacrifices—“

“What if i’m not willing to make some sacrifices?” Sirius dared to run a hand along her arm, ending with a gentle grasp of her wrist. The touch sent shockwaves rolling through her body.

“I’m not sure if we have a choice in the end,” she whispered, reaching out to trace her fingertips up his side. It was pathetic how much she needed him. It had only been a few days and she was practically gnawing at the bit to touch him, hold him, just be near him. 

Sirius threw caution to the wind and pulled her into his chest gently, allowing her to melt against his body. She almost moaned at the contact, but kept her voice in check as she savored his warmth. 

“I’ll always choose you,” he murmured into the top of her head. 

She hummed in question. 

He tipped her chin back to look him in the eye, “Out of any choice I’m given, it will always be for you.” He kissed her deeply, the rest of her anger instantly swirling down the drain. 

Afterwards, as they laid in bed, tangled with each other, Sirius traced patterns on her back with his hand. 

“I liked seeing you with Harry earlier,” he mused, eyes bright in the darkness of their bedroom. 

She smiled at the thought of the little baby boy, “He’s quite possibly the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He was quiet for longer than a few heartbeats, brows furrow slightly in thought. “Have you ever thought about having children?” He asked cautiously. 

The thought of bringing a child into the world at the present moment was absolutely insane to her; how Lily and James were doing it was beyond comprehension. She exhaled slowly, “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t ever thought about it. What about you?”

Sirius would be an excellent father, growing up with a family like his had shown him precisely what not to do, so she had no doubt he’d love his own children with every atom in his being. The thought made her heart swell.

Sirius’s mouth lifted at the corner, “I’ve toyed with it.”

She matched his smile, “A tiny version of you, with the same big blue eyes running around causing mayhem?”

Sirius’s grin widened, “I’d teach them how to fly as fast as her mum used to on the quidditch pitch.”

The image made her tear up a little. She’d never given serious thought to children and the future until more recently. War did that. The uncertainty of each day, never knowing if your friends and partners would come back home after a mission. Too many of them had been lost, too many of them had plans that were snuffed out. She didn’t want to feel sad anymore, didn’t want to worry if today would be the last day she made coffee for Remus, or the last time she spoke to Lily and James. More than anything, she just wanted the chance at a future, a future with Sirius. 

She brushed his hair back from his beautiful face,”Let’s get through the war first, love. We’ve got time.”

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Taglist (Message me to be added!):

@otterlockholmes

@sofacover

[pommeauromarin]

I'm sorry, but for me, friends to lovers is the superior trope. I love me a little enemies to lovers, but it doesn't hit the same. The tension, will they won't they, the angst, the fact that they know each other so well and that's why they won't confess, too scared to ruin what they have, or they just believe it's all they CAN have ARGH YES PLEASE SPECTACULAR GIVE 14 OF THEM RIGHT NOW

[s1r1us0black]

All the young dudes by MsKingBean89

Chapter 86: Fifth Year: Sweet sixteen

I cried reading this chapter and I feel bad when I think about it. I love and hate it at the same time. The slow burn hurts so much but I still like this chapter. 😫

Remus I love u, Sirius... WHY DID YOU DO THAT????

Creds: whoisflattery

[marauder-misprint]

Meeting Padfoot

Series Masterlist

Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

1.4k words

cw: fluff, swearing

When Dorcas opens the portrait, chaos is audible. Taking a small step through the doorway, you see what’s going on. There’s a large black dog that is running around, barking and baring its teeth at students. There’s a first year student sitting on top of a table, crying. The dog periodically stops to chew on something. Ripped papers are scattered across the floor and the leg of one of the couches has been gnawed on. 

“See!” Dorcas says, shoving you more into the room. “Now fix it!”

You give her a sour look. “What am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know. Thought you were a dog person.”

“I am, but I’m not bloody animal control!”

With the portrait closed behind you and you physically in the common room, Dorcas hurries past the dog to the girls’ dormitory staircase where Marlene is waiting for her. They disappear up the stairs. You groan and watch the dog. A quick glance of the room tells you that there are no upperclassmen around. It’s just you and a handful of terrified preteens. 

“I’m going to murder them,” you mumble to yourself, referring to the Gryffindors in general and likely whoever owned this dog, or whoever was dumb enough to bring said dog into Hogwarts. 

You keep your demeanor calm as you walk toward the middle of the room. The dog, while still wreaking havoc, watches you. You could’ve sworn the dog smiled at you, or at least seemed happier. Maybe it saw you as someone to play with rather than someone trying to capture it and end its fun. You decide it sees you as a playmate since it never lets you get close to it by cheerfully bounding out of your reach whenever you tried to get close enough to maybe pet it. 

With a groan, you sit against the back of a couch. The dog takes its time as it walks by you, curious as to why its playmate isn’t playing anymore. It walks closer than it had before, sniffing your foot. You lunge forward and grab it by the scruff of its neck. You caught it off guard. It has a kind of defeated look in its eyes but it doesn’t fit you. Without letting it go, you move it closer to you so you can pet it gently. The dog calms down enough to lay down. Despite this, you maintain a hand on it at all times. You caught the damned thing once, you weren’t going to do it again.

“So, um, Gryffindors, how is there a dog in your common room?” you ask loudly, scanning the room again. 

Maybe one of the first through third years had an answer for you. It was hopeful and you knew it. So you aren’t surprised when you're met with silence.

“Ah, you caught him!” James declares, appearing at the bottom of the boys’ stairs. “‘Bout time.”

You give him a glare. “Do you know how he got in?”

James shrugs as he walks toward you and crouches to pet the dog. 

“It’s not like he can give the portrait the password… Someone had to let him in.”

“Maybe Sirius?” James suggests. 

“Where is he?”

He shrugs again. 

“So not in your dorm then…” You roll your eyes and look down at the dog. 

The dog lets out a whine and you scratch him behind his ears. 

“He certainly likes you,” James muses as the dog rolls into you.

“Why do you think Sirius let him in?”

“Just a feeling.”

“Has he mentioned a dog to you before? I thought they weren’t allowed at Hogwarts.”

“Oh, they aren’t.”

You narrow your eyes at James.

“You know more than you’re telling me. Whose dog is this?”

“Sirius’...”

You groan. “Snuck his dog into school and let it run around the common room? Fuckin’ idiot…”

The dog whines again and you coo at him.

“So what’s his name, then?”

“Padfoot.”

You hum and then look at James curiously. 

“Is this why you guys wanted me to chat up Black? You knew he had a dog?”

“Uh, sorta?”

You laugh, rubbing the dog’s belly.

“Well, if he had mentioned he had a dog, maybe we’d get along better.”

“Never mentioned his dog? That’s odd,” James says with fake musings. “He loves Padfoot!”

“And Padfoot loves me,” you coo, smiling down at the dog who you swear is smiling back at you again.

You giggle as Padfoot lurches to lick your face. 

“Hey! Down boy!” James scolds, but you’re just laughing as you allow the dog to cover you in slobber. 

“You can’t scold him, Potter! Not that he’d listen to you anyways,” you say through your laughs. 

“Why wouldn’t he listen to me? I’m best mates with his… owner.”

You roll your eyes. “If he listened to you, Dorcas wouldn’t’ve been sent to get me. You could’ve caught him and hid ‘im in your dorm or something.” You pause, looking around the common room yet again. “But really, where is Black? Why the fuck isn’t he here with his dog?”

“Dunno, like I said before. But, ah, I can take Padfoot up… unless you want to hang out with him?”

You look from James to the dog and back to James. You can’t help but smile widely.

“I’ll stick around for a bit. I’ll send someone to get you if Black takes too long to come back from wherever he is. … Personally, I’d like to give him a piece of my mind for leaving his little puppy all alone!” 

Your voice turned to baby talk at the end of your sentence. How could you not baby a dog when they were so precious? Even when they were destroying school property and likely scarring some kids for life. What could you say? You were a dog person. 

“Wait up for Sirius then. If you get tired of waiting, just bring Padfoot upstairs, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

James gives you a smile and leaves you alone with Padfoot. The dog is more than content to spend more time with you; he rolls over and noses your hand whenever you stop petting him. After what feels like hours, you frown down at Padfoot. 

“Where the hell is your owner, baby boy?” you ask the dog. 

Padfoot looks up at you, still with that happy look on his dog face. He whines briefly as you move away from him to stand up. 

“Sorry, boy. I can’t stay here all night,” you tell him, immediately crouching back down to ruffle the fur on his face. “Not that you understand this, but I’m a Slytherin and this is Gryffindor Tower. I’d take you back to the dungeons with me… but alas, you’re not mine.”

You swear Padfoot tilted his head when you suggested taking him with you. You sigh to yourself and look to the stairs where James had gone up a while ago.

“Come on, Padfoot.”

The dog follows you, albeit semi-reluctantly. He climbs the stairs faster than you do and waits outside the door to the sixth year dorms. You chuckle softly.

“Fido knows home,” you mumble to yourself as you knock firmly on the door. 

There’s some thudding inside the room before Remus opens the door. His face softens when he sees you with Padfoot.

“Thanks for wrangling him,” Remus says, holding open the door so Padfoot could enter. “James told me.”

“Pass something along to Black for me?”

He nods with a cautious look in his eye.

“Tell him to take care of his fucking dog.”

You could hear James and Peter laughing from behind Remus. He gives you a crooked smile.

“Yeah, I can do that. Anything else you want me to tell him?”

You shrug. “Eh. Unless you feel like adding a slap to that message.”

There’s a louder thud that sounds suspiciously like a body falling off of a bed that is followed by increased laughing. 

You give Remus a nod and leave Gryffindor Tower as fast as you can. 

Sirius looks satisfied when Remus closes the door and turns around.

“Oh, she is definitely a Padfoot person,” he says, sitting on the foot of his bed with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“For sure,” James agrees. He’s on the floor. “But I think you went backwards on the Sirius front.”

“Which is your fault!” Sirius exclaims.

“How is that his fault?” Remus asks.

“He told her that Padfoot is my dog!”

“What else was I supposed to tell her?”

“I don’t know. Play dumb longer?”

“You were there! She caught on pretty quickly!”

“Hey!” Peter yells over them. “I think we still call Operation Padfoot a success. Proved that she is, in fact, a dog person.”

“And a Padfoot person,” Sirius adds pointedly.

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468

[got-the-cheese-touch]

More Than a Name - prologue

Harry Potter x Sirius Black's Daughter!Reader

slowburn harry potter x reader

summary: your childhood is tragic. but then you meet Remus Lupin. and he helps you plant roots.

content: angst will turn into fluff, dw (wolfstar if you stare really hard at it for too long) try to find the all the young dudes reference.

a/n: okay, here's the prologue. i'm really nervous, i've never shared my writing so hopefully it's not shitty.

trigger warnings: this contains pretty heavy stuff!!! reader was told she had hallucinations. abuse in a hospital/foster care setting. mentions of her mistreatment. remus was not mentally well after sirius died, so there are some mental health issues implied. user was put on meds and therapy testing. its character development, y'all i swear i have a plan. no use of y/n, i describe the reader being small (only because she's a little kid rn)

word count: ~ 4k

ty to @thecutestgrotto for the dividers <3

Your childhood was one that was void of certainty. You existed through suitcases and trunks that were never unpacked. A bedroom never decorated. A plant with no roots can never truly grow. You yourself were the result of something short lived. A one night stand. Your mother was young when you were born. Too young to want to keep you. Your father? As tangible as the wind itself. You were told he was arrested before he could meet you, before he could take you in. (You’d learn later that he cried harder when he heard you were in the muggle foster system than when he learned his sentence for Azkaban. He knew what happened to young wizards on their own.) If only he could have protected you from the inexplicable events that wreaked mayhem wherever you went. 

Hospitals would diagnose you, medicate you, and try to pick your brain. Hippie foster families would try to meditate away the craziness in your mind. Hallucinations, they said. A teenage girl running straight into the brick wall dividing platforms at King’s Cross. A woman that became a cat. Owls flutter about during the day. They were all things that should’ve been cured by pills. Foster families were frightened by your condition. Hospitals were perplexed. Special homes wanted to cure you with alternative practice. (The smell of sage still makes you want to vomit.) 

But it all changed the day two, kind looking men came and visited you in the St. Bernadette’s Home for Mentally Troubled Youth. The last resort. You sat on the bed, waiting for a med call. Your legs kicked impatiently, your arms were scarred and you picked nervously at your skin; so far in your own haze that you didn’t see the door open. You had scars from injection treatment, punishment from teachers, from angry foster parents, or the cruelty of other children. You were unhealthy. Your hair was wild, so were your eyes. His eyes. It startled Remus when he saw just how much you resemble your father. That wildness in your eyes, the way you sat with a bouncing leg. He saw your scars and the bruises around your wrists from being roughed by medical staff. He wanted to throw up. 

The creak of the wooden floor startled you. Your eyes shot up, expecting to see the angry glare of a doctor. Instead, you saw two strangers. The first was an old man with a long white beard. You were never lucky enough or so well behaved that you got visits from Santa Claus but you guessed that this is what he’d look like. He was thinner than the magical man who delivered gifts, though. He smiled at you and tilted his head, correcting the small glasses he wore on his nose. He looked at you like he knew you all your life, like he had known you before you were born. Trailing a bit behind him was a taller, nervous looking man. His sweater was pushed to his elbows and you saw his skin was scarred like yours. But his were older, deeper. Like he had tried to claw his way out of his skin. He had curly hair and sharp eyes. Not unfriendly, you thought, but withered. Like he spent his whole life waiting for a rest that wouldn’t come. When the older man spoke your name, you almost didn’t recognize it. 

You hadn’t heard your name spoken so softly. It was foreign. 

He sat down next to you and shook your hand. It was the first touch that you felt in a long time that wasn’t punishing. 

“I am Albus Dumbledore.” He said with a smile, like he’s letting you in on a secret. “Do you know who I am, young lady?” he chuckled softly when you shook your head. “No? I figured.” 

“Sir, we don’t have much time.” The nervous man’s voice was rasping and cozy. Like a scratchy woolen blanket, you thought. 

“Yes, yes,” Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively, turning back to you “I’ve come to take you away from here, child. I’m terribly sorry I took so long. I’ve only just come to learn about your state here, please forgive me.”  He truly sounded regretful. Like he himself had scarred you. “How would you like a new school? A new place to live?”

“What- Take me away?” You said, scrambling up, panicked. They’d take you to another hospital, somewhere worse. You always went somewhere worse once people picked you up from your foster homes and schools. “No, no, please I’m doing better. I'll do the therapy, the- the testing. I can’t- please, please- I’ve been trying-” Your breath was shaky, pleading. The tall man with the sweater looked away.

Remus wanted to cry. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to focus on anything except the fact that you were Sirius’s daughter. That you were so much like him. But you weren’t like the bright, lively boy whom he spent his youth with. You were like the dull, timid creature who survived hell in Grimmauld place. 

“I promise you, it will be better, child. I can’t explain much now but we know the place for you, alright dear? You’ll be hurt no longer, I swear it.” the old man held out a wrinkly pinky finger, adorned with rings. A promise. You didn’t trust him, but you knew that adults didn’t like when you didn’t follow what they said. You looped your finger around his and nodded. 

Minutes later, you were out of the gloomy brick building that was St. Bernadette’s. You packed up your suitcase (not much packing was needed) and you were out. Just like that. The two men had stepped away from you for a moment. The taller one was upset. The two talked in hushed voices. 

“Professor, I- I can’t. In my state? I’m not- not fit for a child, let alone Sirius’s child.” You didn’t know who Sirius was. 

“You’re the closest family she has now. Her and Harry, poor things.” You didn’t know a Harry either. “There will be help for you, Remus. When your condition flares up, she will be in good hands. Hagrid can watch her, so can Minerva. But we cannot have her in a Muggle’s care any longer. Look at the poor thing.” Dumbledore placed a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “I trust you with this Lupin; he would’ve trusted you too.” With that, Dumbledore strolled inside, to talk to the doctors, you assumed. 

You were sitting on the steps outside of the building as the old man talked with the doctor’s inside. Next to you, the tall man who had yet to speak to you sat on the step. You learned his name was Remus. His long legs stretched in front of him. He said your name, just as gently as Dumbledore had.

“How old are you, mate?” He asked, glancing over at you, moving your small suitcase out of the puddle you had put it down in. You thought for a moment.

“I’m six and a half.” You replied. You weren’t sure if you really had gained that half of a year but the number made you sound older, stronger. It seemed to take something out of Remus though. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He looked tired again.

“Merlin, Padfoot, what have you done?” He said to himself. Six years. Six years since James and Lily. Six years since Sirius. Six years since that cowardly rat, Wormtail disappeared. Six years old. She's so young, he thought. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments. 

“I was a lot like you, you know.” He said, not making eye contact. “I went to a school like this one. Where people tried to help me but never could.” He pulled at a weed that sprouted between the cracks of the step. He turned it between his fingers before tossing it. 

“Is that where you got those scars?” You ask. Your voice was quiet but curious, you didn’t want to offend him.

“Some of them. But most of ‘em have faded.” He didn’t offer any more explanation than that. You didn’t pry. He pulled out his wallet. It contained a few bills you didn’t recognize, an old train ticket, a few coins, and a crumpled up photo. He slid out the page and unfolded it, holding it out for you to see. The bodies on the page seemed to move. You needed your medication, your hallucinations were vivid. Almost real. “Look here, kid.” He pointed to a figure “Here I am,” he slid his finger to another figure on the paper, the face too old and blurry to make out. “That there is Sirius. That’s your dad.” You stared at the shifting figure. You didn’t have the chance to say anything. Dumbledore walked outside, slipping what looked like a stick into a pocket of his robe. How silly, you thought. 

After a word with Remus, Dumbledore had seemingly vanished out of thin air and you walked hand in hand with the tall man, away from the terrible building. You got onto a train with him, still waiting for the moment you’d learn about the new trial they’d test on you or the new medicine that would make you stop hallucinating. You fell asleep curled up into the seat. Remus felt a tug at his ribs. You were too much like Sirius. 

When you woke up, you were in bed. It was small but it was more comfortable than any bed in any hospital you'd ever been in. When Remus checked in on you, he explained a few things. You were going to live with him for a while and that you should try to call this place home.

He made you toast. He spread out four different kinds of spread on each corner and cut it nicely. Moony toast, he called it. You ate it alongside him quietly. You’d be happy to stay with him if you could eat toast like this. 

“Are you my new dad?” You asked between bites. This made him flinch. He thought about what to say for a long time before he sighed. 

“Just eat your toast, mate.”

Life with Remus wasn’t easy, but it was happy. You finally had roots. You laughed with him and he’d patch up your knees when you fell. He’d disappear for a few days every month and he’d come back looking hurt but you got used to it. Besides, kind people watched you while he was gone. Sometimes, a cat would just sit on the window and watch you when you were alone. She would let you pet her while Remus went on day trips to get his own medication. You thought it was weird but you couldn’t complain.

For the first time, you had your own room. You decorated it with Remus, too. You folded paper and made little garlands. He gave you some posters from your dad. He gave you lots of Sirius’s stuff, in fact. Your favorite was an old worn leather jacket. It swallowed you up but you would use it as a blanket at night. You imagined your dad wearing it. It made Remus happy when you wore it. So you rarely took it off. You also got lots of photos. Boxes of them. Some were taken from Sirius’s camera, which Remus kept for himself. This time, when you saw some of these photos moving, you learned they weren’t hallucinations. 

When you were old enough, Dumbledore came back. You remembered his kindness so you trusted him fully when he explained to you about wizards and witches. You were sad when you learned of your father and his crimes. Remus tensed when Dumbledore explained this.

Dumbledore told you everything, not even leaving out Remus’s lycanthropy. You never felt frightened. You loved your Remus. (You finally understood why the people that looked after you in his absence called him Moony.) For the first time, you weren’t afraid when you learned about a new school for you. Hogwarts was a magical school. One without doctors or therapy trials. You were excited to go and you would count the days to receive your acceptance letter.

The only upsetting thing, surprisingly, was when you realized that you weren’t a psycho. 

That you never hallucinated or needed therapy. 

You didn’t need to go through all of that testing.

The homes, the abuse, the scars and bruises.

You bled for nothing.

You weren't a kid who needed to be hit, you just needed a parent.

When he saw the look on your face, Remus became upset at this. He didn't like to think about what you went through. Didn't like thinking about the time before you were a silly, crazy kid. When you were small and bruised and looked like a caged animal. Like a wild dog.

Remus wiped his cheek.

You were mad. Mad at your teachers and doctors and previous foster parents. You were mad at your dad. Very mad at your dad. He couldn’t be there for you so you suffered. It’s his fault you were a wizard, it was his blood that made you be this way. It's him who made you see these things, so you blamed him.

Remus told you stories about Sirius to try to reassure you about your father. That he was good. He was funny and bright and just like you. It didn’t help though. You still resented Sirius. Maybe he wasn’t a killer, but he wasn’t there for you like he should have been. You heard stories of his family and friends. How he was a prankster. You loved to hear stories about him. Not because of your affection for your father, though.

You liked to hear stories of Sirius because Remus was happier talking about the past. He looked younger and brighter, a weight lifted when he told his stories. He darkened when you asked where his friends were; where Lily and James were. (You got him to tell you the full story a year later. He was adamant that your father wasn’t a killer. You agreed. Sirius Black wasn't guilty. After all, your Moony wouldn’t speak so fondly of a murderer.)

When you turned eleven and your letter for Hogwarts finally came, you were sad to leave. You were given a magic wand from Dumbledore which you were very scared you were going to break. You got books and supplies, all from the headmaster. You even got a nice letter from the cat who would watch you sometimes while Remus was away. This confused you. Apparently she taught there. (How a cat could teach a class at a school, you had no idea) This made Remus chuckle. "Good old Minnie." He murmured. You had no clue who Minnie was.

You packed up your bags and trunk. (which took a lot longer than it had in the past) and you went with Remus to the famed platform where a train would take you away to Hogwarts. You were scared. You didn’t want to be sent away again. Remus was reassuring, holding your hand the whole time. Even as you heard the train approaching the station. You noticed the looks people gave the two of you.

People who knew the tragedy of The Marauders, people who thought they knew the loss. Remus shrugged it off. “Just people I haven’t seen in a while, kid. Don’t think too much about it.” 

  He gave you explicit instructions. He showed you a newspaper and pointed to the boy on the cover. He was scrawny and he wore wire framed glasses. He had stringy brown hair. Harry was his name and Remus told you to find him quickly and become his friend. He was James and Lily's son.

He said you’d do each other some good; being tied together by the fraying strings of a friendship so close, it may have been a family. Harry was alone and you understood being alone. 

The train whistled, signalling the need for students to board. You looked at Remus and you started to cry. He pulled you into a hug. You didn’t realize he was crying too until you felt the wetness of his tears against your shoulder. He sniffed as he held you tightly. He loved you. He was just as much your father as Sirius was.

As he held you, he thanked whatever was up in the universe for sending you to him. He was on the brink of giving up when Dumbledore urged him to come save you from the terrible institution. Your childlike chaos filled the halls of his home that were once stuffy with grief. He once prayed and wished that he could look into Sirius’s eyes again - to hear his laugh. You gave him that. 

“Okay, kid” He pulled back from you and put his hands on either side of your head, kissing your hair with his eyes shut. You cried, looking up at him. He clutched onto Sirius’s leather jacket, Pulling it over your robes. It was still big on you but it wasn’t blanket sized anymore. Merlin, he really didn’t want you to leave. 

“Will I ever see you again, Moony?” You sobbed, looking up at him. You were desperate not to leave. 

His heart cracked. You thought he was sending you away for good. He said your name with a sniff, hugging you as another tear slipped “Oh, my dear of course you will. You’ll be home for Christmas, I promise.” He looked at you with an intensity, memorizing your little face before he had to say goodbye. With one last tight hug and a kiss on the head, he sent you off and watched as you scuttled into the train. 

Once on board, you were met with so much energy. Older and younger kids in a bustle of movement. You had never seen so many children so happy. Sure, you met kids at your past institutions but they were never lively. All of them were as beaten down as you used to be. But these kids, all dressed in robes like your own were joyful. You walked nervously down the line of compartments, Remus’s words looping through your mind. Harry Potter, just find Harry. He’ll be your friend. It’s in your blood. 

You passed some menacing kids in dark robes with green. They were calling other kids on the train names that you didn’t understand but you decided that you wanted to stay under their radar. You saw a couple of teenagers bullying a younger boy holding a toad. You decided then that you didn’t like those people wearing green. They all seemed dreadful.

After you passed all the horrible green-robed students, you were frantic to find an empty compartment. All of these kids already had friends. Your only friend was Moony, you didn’t know the first thing about meeting other people. Eventually you found an empty compartment and you sat down alone. You held on tightly to the leather jacket over your robes, knuckles white as you watched the landscape pass.

You were used to the silence, the hum of the car relaxing. But you didn’t get much time to revel in your lonesome because the compartment opened and a small boy stepped in shyly. The one kid on the train that you knew. 

He was thin with unbrushed hair. He looked like the man in some of Sirius's polaroids, you thought. Except his eyes. They were a stunning green.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” He asked, pushing up his glasses, the nosepiece held together with tape. You nodded. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” He held out his hand for you to shake, which you took, greeting him as he sat down. He was just as nervous as you. But he seemed happy, excited.

You were just dreading being away from the only home you’ve known.

“It’s nice to meet you,” You said after you introduced yourself. “I was told to try to find you.” Harry was worried. He thought you’d barrage him with questions about the Dark Lord or ask him confusing questions that he didn’t understand. But instead you smiled nervously. “Our dads were best mates when they were in school.” 

Harry smiled. 

AAAH, if you read this far thank you. i really think this could be a cool series and i like how i'm planning to write the characters.

please tell me if you like this and if I should write the next chapter that's been brewing in my mind cauldron.

peace and love <33

(likes are appreciated but i'll fall in love with you if you reblog)

[everythingisromant1c]

It's Always Been You - Chapter 12

james potter x fem!reader

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

wc [6.2k]

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

all chapters | <- Chapter 11

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can I have everyone's attention?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You stilled, gaping at her. "What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You could never lose me."

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

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

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

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

"For Merlin's sake."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist!!

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

[itsalliny0urhead]

After Hours (sirius black x slytherin!femreader)

You and Sirius Black have hated each other for years — or at least, that’s what everyone thinks. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor, a pureblood and a blood traitor — you were supposed to hate him. And for years, you played the part perfectly. The insults, the hexes, the glares across the Great Hall — it was all easy.

But it wasn’t real.

Because before Hogwarts, before sides, you and Sirius were close. Best friends. And somewhere along the way — between late-night detentions, stolen glances, and quiet confessions beneath the Quidditch stands — things changed.

sirius black x slytherin!femreader

The corridor was dark, the only light coming from the faint flicker of the torches along the cold stone walls. The chill of the night pressed against your skin, seeping through the thin fabric of your uniform. Your footsteps were nearly soundless on the worn stone floor — years of sneaking through Hogwarts had made you an expert at moving unnoticed.

You slipped around the corner of the one-eyed witch statue, heart thudding painfully in your chest as you approached the alcove near the edge of the Gryffindor tower. The sound of your pulse roared in your ears — but beneath it, you felt it. That pull in your chest, low and familiar. Like your body knew exactly where he would be.

He was already there, of course.

Sirius Black was leaning casually against the wall, his long legs crossed at the ankles. His black hair fell carelessly over his grey eyes as he rolled a cigarette between his fingers. The soft glow of the torchlight sharpened the cut of his cheekbones and cast shadows across his jaw. He was still wearing his uniform trousers and the white button-down — tie hanging loose around his neck, shirt untucked. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, exposing the sharp cut of his forearms.

"You’re late," Sirius murmured, his mouth curling at the corner as his eyes swept lazily over you.

"You’re lucky I showed up at all," you shot back, stepping toward him. "Flint nearly caught me sneaking out."

Sirius raised an eyebrow. "So what you’re saying is… you’d risk getting caught for me?"

You narrowed your eyes. "Don’t let it go to your head."

His eyes darkened as you stopped in front of him. He reached out, his hand curling around your wrist. His thumb brushed over your pulse point — and he smiled faintly when he felt the way your heartbeat spiked beneath his touch.

"You always say that," Sirius murmured, his voice low and edged with quiet amusement. His hand slid up your arm, his touch feather-light. "And yet…"

Your heart hammered in your chest as he leaned in. His mouth ghosted over the shell of your ear, his breath warm against your skin. The scent of him — smoke and soap and something dark — curled through your senses. You hated how easily it made you shiver.

"Sirius," you warned.

"What?" He smiled — that lazy, dangerous smile that made your stomach twist painfully. His hand slid down your side, fingertips brushing beneath the hem of your sweater. "Afraid someone might see?"

Yes. Of course you were.

You and Sirius had hated each other for years — or at least, that’s what everyone thought. You were a Slytherin, a pureblood from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Your family had expected you to stick close to your own kind. And Sirius…

Sirius had left his family behind. He had thrown away his last name and everything it stood for — and you were supposed to hate him for that. And you had. For years, you’d thrown insults back and forth, sneered at each other in the Great Hall, hexed each other in the corridors — but it had always been a front.

Because once — before Hogwarts, before houses, before sides — you had been close. Best friends. He’d been the only person who could make you laugh until you cried, and you’d been the only one who could quiet the storm behind his eyes. And maybe that connection had never really gone away — not fully.

It had been easy to pretend to hate him at first. You were supposed to. You were a Slytherin, and he was a blood traitor — a Gryffindor. But then, sixth year happened. A late-night detention, a shared moment beneath the Quidditch stands — Sirius pressing his hand against your cheek and looking at you like you were something worth breaking rules for. And you had never recovered from it.

Now it was seventh year, and sneaking out to meet Sirius after curfew had become dangerously routine.

"You shouldn’t be here," you whispered.

Sirius’s hand slid up your side, his fingers trailing beneath the hem of your sweater. His palm rested against the curve of your waist, just beneath your ribs.

"And yet…" He tilted his head, his lips brushing the edge of your jaw. "Here you are."

Your stomach flipped violently. "If someone sees—"

"Then I’ll tell them you attacked me." His lips curled against your skin. "Hexed me into submission. Forced me to kiss you."

"And if I told them you begged me?"

Sirius laughed — low and dark. His hand slid up to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against the sensitive skin behind your ear. You hated the way your body responded to him so easily — hated how fast your pulse was pounding beneath your skin.

"Begged?" Sirius repeated, his voice rough. "Do you want me to beg, love?"

You opened your mouth to snap back — but Sirius kissed you before you could.

It hit you like a hex to the chest.

His mouth was warm and demanding, his hand sliding beneath your sweater as he pulled you against him. His other hand threaded into your hair, tilting your head back as his lips moved over yours with quiet desperation. Sirius groaned softly when you curled your hands into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between you.

You gasped when his tongue slid across your bottom lip, and Sirius took advantage of the opening. He kissed you deeper — slow and deliberate — tasting you like he’d been thinking about it all day. His hand slid beneath the hem of your skirt, his thumb brushing against your bare thigh.

Sirius smiled against your mouth when you made a quiet, breathless noise. He pressed you back against the wall, his thigh sliding between yours as his hand curled around your waist. His lips moved down the curve of your jaw, pressing slow kisses to the hollow of your throat.

You were spiraling — completely undone by the way he was touching you, by the way he was holding you like you were fragile and precious and dangerous all at once. His mouth pressed beneath your ear, and you shivered.

"This is stupid," you whispered.

"Yeah," Sirius agreed. His hand slid up your thigh, pushing the edge of your skirt higher. His mouth ghosted over your pulse point. "But it feels good, doesn’t it?"

You didn’t answer — you couldn’t.

Sirius kissed you again — harder this time — his hand curling beneath your jaw. His lips parted against yours, and you let him deepen the kiss. You tasted smoke and warmth and something sharp beneath it. His hand slid up your side, beneath your sweater, fingers tracing the line of your ribs.

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless. Sirius’s eyes were dark, his lips flushed. His thumb brushed over the corner of your mouth.

"Don’t look so smug," you breathed.

"Can’t help it." Sirius grinned. "You always taste so sweet."

Your breath hitched. But before you could say anything, footsteps echoed down the corridor.

Sirius’s expression sharpened instantly. He took a step back, his hand sliding away from your waist. You hated the loss of contact — hated how easily he slipped back into that untouchable expression.

"Guess you’d better hex me now," he teased, his mouth curling at the corner. "Sell it."

You flicked your wand toward him — a harmless jinx that knocked him backward just as the prefects rounded the corner. Sirius hit the ground with a loud thump, groaning dramatically as he sprawled across the floor.

"Traitor," he mouthed.

You fought back a smile as the prefects helped him to his feet.

This was dangerous. This was stupid. This was Sirius Black.

And you weren’t stopping anytime soon.

[orangemuffinss]

I don’t want to read slow burns, I WANT THEM TO FALL IN LOVE THE MOMENT THEY SEE EACH OTHER, I WANT THEM TO PINE OVER EACH OTHER, I WANT EVERYONE EXCEPT THEM TO KNOW THAT THEYRE IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER

[emi-gelfling]

For tomarry shippers, this fic is the equivalent of jegulus shippers' Crimson Rivers fic. Lots of banter and tension between Harry and Tom, but also maturation and character growth! Definitely a wip worth keeping track of!

LINK:

[always-and-forever-alone]

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Worrying

Remus lupin x gn!reader

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Summary:[reader gets a vision that someone is getting hurt in the whomping willow; they decide that they can't just let someone be hurt so they go to help, only it turns out they are the ones that will be hurt]

TW: [reader gets slightly hurt, blood, slow burn kinda, angst, happy ending, reader is a seer/can see the future, I have dyslexia]

Note: [this was supposed to be a blurb... tell me if i misspelled something or got something wrong]

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Sleep does not come easy, you toss and turn. Thinking of ways to fall asleep faster, but to no avail. Something feels wrong like you are missing something you should know.

Somehow, you fall asleep, but your dream is unsettling; your mind leads you through grass, the night sky is clear, and you make out the whomping willow. The air is cold and uninviting. Something horrible is in the air. Fear of one's self, guilt without strong reason. But has this person that feels, done anything wrong? It's unclear

In the tree, the vision goes. A blurred site, barely making out a man, in pain, screaming. So much weight in the scream, not just physical pain. It's sure to never leave the head of whoever hears it, and unfortunately, the head is yours. It echoes, will it end?

There's more, though, an unidentifiable amount of people are near, feeling sad as if they are losing something or maybe someone. They know this is temporary, but it hurts to see. But what are they seeing? The people changed, but not like the one that screamed. The unwillingness of one is guided by the willingness of some.

The vision weakens as the connection starts to stop; the vision of what the night is to hold slowly leaves.

A piercing scream wakes you. Your eyes snap open. You look around at your dorm mates, all perfectly asleep. This makes you think that there was no scream. But it was so reel feeling. It was kind of hard to depict what dreams were real or just that, a dream. It was so much easier in the day because you can't dream well awake and not be in control.

You look at the time around 4:20 a.m. You try to find reasons you should investigate. You've already lost sleep; what could it hurt? It'd put you at ease when you see that nothing is wrong because surely nothing is wrong. Right?

Getting out of your bed, you grab a jacket and a poison of healing, for if someone is hurt, you will help. You disillusion yourself, quietly creeping down the hall. The paintings are asleep, and you have yet to run into a perfect. The walk seems unusually long, although maybe because you want answers.

Pushing open one of, many doors, open, you slip out into the darkness. The moon provided enough light to see where you were going. Even with a jacket the air was so cold, it was weird connecting that it wasn't winter.

Approaching the whomping willow, you look for a way in. But it's too late. The tree is already swinging at you. You jump out of the way. Running when you see an opening. Without too much though, you go through it.

You hear scratching as if a mouse was running by. A little grossed out by the thought of unkempt animals living here you move forward. The same way the vision went.

Nearing a door, you tentatively push it back. Slowly exposing whatever was inside. But with a sharp bang, the door shut; there was so much force you stumbled back. Making a move to not fall down the stairs you just climbed, and pulling yourself to the boor again, something or someone had been thrown to the boor. There's no way someone didn't get hurt. So wanting to help you move closer to the door.

This time you open the door quickly, sliding inside. You feel like you should be scared right now, but for some reason, it feels so right for you to be here. Although the scene in front of you did scare you. A dog, mouse, deer, and, for Merlin's sake, a werewolf were right in front of you. The mouse makes some sense, but never had you seen a dog in Hogwarts, and maybe a deer, but how did it get in? And a werewolf!

It smells you instantly, no longer interested in whatever was happening before it slowly stocks towards you. The deer threw it by its antlers, but the werewolf was back on its feet fast. The dog started barking as the mouse jumped on its eyes, trying to temporarily blind it. And all I could do was stand there, my face going pale.

With one move, it jumped towards me, the mouse falling with a light thud; you were sure your body was going to follow. But the werewolf barely graced your cheek. Confused, you opened your eyes; the werewolf was changing back; the sun peaked through the wood. Shocked, you see your good friend Remus. As the others in the room misinterpreted your reaction, all you could feel was concern for your friend.

And like that you fainted.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

You open your eyes and take in your surroundings. Confusion fills you as you try to piece together your situation. You're in the hospital wing. Memories begin to resurface. You recall the vision, the chaos with the whomping willow, and the fact that Remus is a werewolf.

Seeing Sirius and James, there helping up Remus, and Peter is carrying what I assume is Remus's stuff. You quickly stand up and move toward them. You feel like you need to apologize for putting Remus in that situation. But James starts guiding him away, James signals for Sirius to talk to you. With Sirius now standing in your way. You call Remus's name but he just puts his head down and keeps moving forward a little faster now.

"Look, you can't tell anyone, I'm sorry you got hurt. But it's not his fault, he isn't him when he's like that." Sirius says, a little mad as if you've already told. You move your hand to your cheek after he mentions you being hurt. It's gone, leaving what feels like a scar "Of course, I wouldn't tell anyone. Why would I even do that? It's not my life," Sirius looks at you for a moment and seems to relax, but not much.

With that, he starts walking off. "Wait! Can I talk with him," you reach for his hand, he slips it out before you can reach it. "It's best if you don't; Remus doesn't want to hurt anyone, especially not someone like you," he starts moving away, "What does that mean?" But he doesn't stop, leaving you behind.

Miss Pomfrey, now realizing you are awake walks over to you. "Dear, do you feel good enough to leave. Evening is healed. You fainted from shock" I look at her and nod. "Ok dear"

You get your stuff and leave; what will you tell people when they ask about the scar? Probably something about being clumsy.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

For the next two weeks, you tried talking to Remus, even sending him letters. He got them but was so ashamed of himself and feeling like a monster he didn't read them. Sirius told him that you were not going to tell, but Sirius didn't say much else; he offered that I should talk to you, but what if you hate me? Even when he reassures me that you don't hate me. How would he know?

I didn't throw away the letters, though; they just kept piling up on my bedside table.

Sirius and James said that if I don't want to talk to you then they'll support it, but I know they want me to talk to you. How could I, I hurt you.

You had tried many ways to get a chance to talk to Remus, but someone you were once close with was now ignoring you. While you weren't friends with the other Marauders, you hoped that one day you would be. It felt as though they hated you. What could you do...

Your other friends started to notice that something was wrong; you seemed a little more gloomy and often stared off into space, lost in deep thought. When you weren't doing that, you were writing. Normally, they would assume it was schoolwork, but you had such a pained expression on your face.

It was only when they saw the marauders looking out at you, or more like just Remus. At first, maybe it was an accident or just so happened to be where his eyes landed, but then a second and a third, and a fourth time. He had the same look as you. Guilt. There was something there.

One evening, your friends had dragged you down to dinner; you stared at your food, picking at it, but not eating it. You heard a sigh; looking up, you saw a disappointed friend. You're disappointed friend. "You know food is for eating, not for playing with," she finally says. You are about to reply when it hits you: a brilliant idea. You gasp, "what day Is it" you ask looking to see if You can see it anywhere.

"Are you alright?" concern replacing the disappointment, "no im not, what day is it!" You ask, packing your things, your friend answers hesitantly. Just like you thought, it was the full moon.

You run to your room, get ready, grab some food and a good book, and then sneak to the hostel wing. He'll have no choice but to see you there when he gets back in the morning. So there you were in the hospital wing. Madam Pamfry doesn't try to get you to leave; she could tell you need to be here more than sleep. So you waited, you had grabbed a book to read but you were far to nervous now.

Just 20 minutes after sunrise, Remus was pulled into the hospital wing. The boys were too busy to see you; madam told them to leave so she could treat him. When she was done you quickly went over to him, hidden by the curtains, you asked Madame Pamfry to make sure the boys wouldn't introduced and then thanked her.

Just as she left, Remus started to wake. He seemed so peaceful for a second. Before realizing why he was there and what he was. And then he saw you. "We need to talk," you whisper. "Yeah," he mutters. "I'm sorry-" you start, but he also says 'I'm sorry' which is why you stop; we both look up, and you smile lightly, but he does not. With a sigh he says "You go first" You nod your smile falling, I start, "I'm sorry I put you in that position, and I'm sorry I messed up our relationship, and I get if you no longer want to be friends, this will be my last attempt to talk to you If you wish I'll leave" and somehow he looks even more hurt.

"No. Of course, I still want to be your friend, I thought... I thought you hated me and considered me a monster." You can't help but laugh at the exhaustion you could not have gone through if this had just not happened. "Well, now we know that we're both wrong," you add. "Never thought I'd be happy about being wrong." he smiles this time; you agree.

"I was worried," you say, getting it off your chest. "You were?" He asked, surprised, "Yeah".

"This is going to make everything so much more complicated, but can I kiss you?" Completely caught off guard, you look up into his eyes and then quickly glance down at the ground. "Yes," you whisper. He reaches out and pulls you in; his lips are soft and hesitant, but you can feel him smile into the kiss. Behind you, you hear Sirius say, "Finally."

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵

Hoped you liked it :>

[silverameco]

sometimes you're reading a slow burn wolfstar fic and you become James in just lovers, thinking over and over again just shag, just shag, just fucking shag already

[wastelandmoony]

Déjà Vécu: The Prophecy

Chapter Thirty-Five : The Prophecy

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew, Regulus Black, Marlene McKinnon, Mary MacDonald, Lily Evans

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI.

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December 15th, 1979

Autumn of 1979 was the emotional equivalent of whiplash. Peter began to attend more frequent Order meetings again, much to her excitement (and also surprise). The moment he walked through the door, she had smiled so broadly that her cheeks hurt. He sat beside her, falling into easy conversation as if nothing was amiss. James seemed to be happy their friend was back too; she clocked the spark in his eyes from across the room. 

In mid-November, an emergency meeting was called to discuss the newly found evidence of a spy within the Order. The thought alone brought dread, though the worst part being the fact that it was someone they had grown to know and trust. Even possibly a friend. 

They met up at their flat after the meeting, James, Lily, and Peter apparating over to drape themselves over their living room, firewhisky in hand, trying to sort through the swirling doubts  and speculations they all seemed to be struggling with. 

“There’s no way it’s any of the Weasley’s,” she took a sip of her drink, leg pressed tightly against Sirius’s on the couch. Remus shook his head sadly from the floor. 

James sighed thoughtfully, “I feel like maybe Dumbledore is mistaken…”

Sirius downed his whisky and set the empty cup on the coffee table, “It’s obviously Moody.”

She rolled her eyes, “We’ve been over this…”

He shrugged half-heartedly, “I still don’t trust him, and nothing you, Dumbledore, or Kingsley say can change my mind.”

“He does kind of scare me though,” she mumbled, Lily smirking at her over the lip of her glass. 

“Honestly, I know this sounds insane,” James swallowed a mouthful of whisky, grimacing slightly, “but it’s not any of us, and that gives me a little peace of mind knowing we still have each other.”

She smiled, leaning into Sirius’s side as he slung an arm around her. The statement did give her a little bit of relief, and as she looked around at the faces of her closest friends, she relaxed slightly. James Potter, ever the optimist, saw her smile and grinned back. 

———

The news of the spy hung over their heads heavily, but come late autumn the only thing she could think about was Lily. She’d stopped by Potter Manor at her friend’s request one evening, assuming it would be another one of their usual relaxing nights filled with ciders and movies. When she arrived however, the look on Lily’s face was one of thinly-restrained distress. 

“I have something to show you,” she choked out rather abruptly, pulling her upstairs to the small bathroom off of the master suite. 

She took in her friend’s slightly disheveled appearance and frantic movements, “Are you…alright, Lils?”

Lily shut the bathroom door quietly, leaning against it. “I—I’m not sure.”

She raised an eyebrow as her friend dug through the sink cabinet, the sound of hollow tapping against the counter followed. Lily inhaled deeply, and finally sat on the edge of the tub, motioning toward the countertop. Peering over, she could see three white pieces of plastic lined up, each of which showcased two defined pink lines in each of their tiny oval windows. 

“Lily…” she whispered apprehensively.

“I don’t—what do I do?” Her friend whimpered, “We didn’t…we didn’t plan for this, we’re too young. I can’t bring a baby into the world now, not in the middle of a war! Oh god, James is going to be so upset—“

Hearing her thoughts spiral out loud, she grabbed Lily by the shoulders gently, kneeling in front of her on the floor. 

“Don’t for a single moment believe that James is not going to lose his mind with excitement. That man was born to be a brilliant father, and we all know it. Hell, he’s been taking care of Sirius and Peter for ages.”

Lily smiled softly, tears lining her lashes. 

“And you’ll be the best mum. You have all of us to support you as well. Your baby will be so loved, Lils…” 

She watched as Lily closed her eyes, breathing deeply to collect herself. “I don’t even know how to tell him.”

Shrugging, she returned her question with a grin, “We can brainstorm if you want. Either way, James is going to freak out in the best way possible, I promise.”

Later that night after she left, the phone rang in the flat. Remus answered, and she eavesdropped from the living room. A few seconds later, she could faintly hear James yelling on the phone, “I’m going to be a dad!”

She smiled to herself on the couch, listening as Remus stuttered and tried to wrap his brain around the thought. When Sirius got out of the shower a few minutes later, they both recanted the news to his bewildered face, laughing as he rushed to call James and hear it from the man himself. 

———

March 7th, 1980

Nothing lasts forever. As winter reared its brutal head, she was humbly reminded of a devastating Kinks song that James had played on repeat during year 4 after Lily had started to pretend he didn’t exist. She remembered entering the boy’s dorm to borrow a text from Remus, only to find James lying on the wooden floor like a starfish, blasting the Kinks at full volume while he stared at the ceiling solemnly. Sirius had looked at her with quiet desperation from his own bed, his eyes screaming for help. “He’s been like this for hours,” he moaned. They’d all had to endure the song for days if anyone dared to walk into the dorm, finally deciding to hang out in the common room instead of James’s new depression dungeon. Years later, she found the lyrics running through her head as she listened to Dumbledore inform them of a prophecy involving Lily’s unborn son. Nothing lasts forever.

A numbness began to wash over, beginning at her feet and slowly rising. The prophecy foretold of a boy born in July that would be more powerful than Voldemort himself, and that “either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives”. Lily was shaking as she stood silently and left the room, James quickly following in a panic. Sirius was out of his seat instantly, fists clenched and ready to fight against anything and everything. 

“We have to do something! We have enough information to—“

Dumbledore held up a hand, “I cannot in good faith send Order members to attack based on a prophecy.” 

“So what’s the plan then?” He spat. The old headmaster remained calm and unfazed. “We all just pretend this isn’t a problem and wait for the Dark Lord himself to come and finish off my best mate and his family?” 

She sat frozen in her chair, staring blankly at the exchange. Beside her, Remus was fidgeting with his lighter, but she couldn’t even bring herself to take his hand in reassurance. 

Dumbledore inclined his head, “Not in the slightest. We believe it is in the best interest of the Potter’s to be placed into hiding. None will know of their whereabouts besides a designated secret-keeper.”

She looked up at him finally, voice soft with barely contained devastation, “So we won’t know where they are? We won’t be able to see them?”

The corner of Dumbledore’s mouth upturned only slightly, “Unless the secret-keeper volunteers the information.”

“We’d want you lot to know, obviously,” James had reemerged into the room, eyes red and slightly watery. His eyes shot between her, Remus, Sirius, and Peter, “If we decide to hide, that is. Lily needs…we need time to digest all of this.”

Dumbledore dipped his head gently, “I would caution you, Mr. Potter. Divulging your location should you go into hiding could lead to slip-ups—“

“I trust them with my life,” James bristled, shooting Dumbledore with an uncharacteristic glare.

“Do you trust them with your son’s, though?” The headmaster asked calmly. 

There was no hesitation before James spoke again, “Without a doubt.”

———

July 28th, 1980

The fact that she was lying to Sirius ate away at the lining of her stomach. She swore he could smell the lie with his animagus abilities, a thought that was prominent ever since she’d been given the assignment by the Order. 

“—just for a girls day. We’re going to uh…set up some more of the nursery stuff, do our nails…I dunno, boring stuff like that,” she walked quickly out of their bedroom to avoid looking Sirius directly in the eye. Grabbing her bag from the coffee table, she mentally checked if she had everything needed for the mission, all of which had been packed for days. 

“When will you be back?” He furrowed his brows, not in suspicion she noticed, but at her absence. She wanted to melt into the floor.

She kissed him, relishing in the feeling of his mouth on hers, “I’ll be back later tonight.”

Sirius held her close, capturing her lips into another passionate kiss, finally relinquishing her body back to her. “Give Lily my love,” he said as she opened the front door.

“I’ll tell Prongs you say hello,” she placed a foot over the threshold, “I love you.”

“I love you more, bee.”

The closing of the door sounded like a nuclear blast as she stood at the top of the stairs overlooking the alley. She took a deep breath, and apparated to where Remus was waiting.

———

The little coffee shop just off of Church Street was bustling with midday patrons when she arrived.  The rendezvous point was chosen due to its proximity within the heart of muggle Sheffield, a place where no supporter of Voldemort would likely set foot. Remus was posted up at a table near the back, cup of black coffee on the little round table in front of him, face obscured by a beat-up Dostoyevsky novel. Skirting between customers and tables, she took a seat across from him and let out a breath. His left eyebrow cocked.

“Morning,” her voice was hollow.

“It’s 1:30,” he deadpanned, pushing his coffee towards her as an offering. She took a sip, the heat somehow soothing the storm raging in her gut. 

“So what’s the plan?” She set the cup back down on the table, keeping a hand curled around it for grounding purposes. 

Remus didn’t remove his eyes from the pages of the book, “Meeting begins at 7, but Dumbledore wants us to poke around a few places first to see if there’s anything out of the ordinary.”

“Gotcha…” 

His eyes shifted to stare at her from over the book, “Relax, love. Everything’s going to be fine.”

She sighed, the tension in her shoulders never easing, “I know, I’m overreacting. I just…I hate lying to Sirius. I feel like we should’ve told him.”

Remus finally set the book down on the table. “He’s a big boy, he can handle having the truth withheld from him for Order purposes. He’ll understand. We both are also more than aware of why he can’t know, and why he couldn’t come. It’s safer for everyone involved, he would’ve blown our cover.” 

She nodded glumly, knowing that Remus was forever and always the voice of reason. He reached across the table and picked up the coffee, draining the rest and standing up. “Let’s get going, I’m getting restless just sitting here.”

She followed him out of the shop and out onto the sunny street, keeping a step behind as he led the way. Stretching his hand out, she grabbed onto it like a lifeline, lacing their fingers together as they walked to the first location.

———

The meeting was being held in the basement of an old recreation center in the southern section of the city. The two of them had hashed out the details of the mission earlier while wandering around, though all of the preparation in the world wouldn’t have stopped her heart palpitations as they drew closer to their destination. They had been advised that this would be a “no combat” mission, meaning that the end goal was strictly recon and gathering intel. The Order had received a tip that Death Eaters would be trying to recruit at a Lycanthrope support meeting being held by a local branch of Werewolf Support Services. Her and Remus were the only ones chosen for the job, due to her work with WSS and his…obvious affliction. The Order wanted any information they could gather, including but not limited to Death Eater identities, future plans, and number of new recruits. They both would adopt aliases for the night, new names and fake backstories to avoid detection.

Remus pulled her gently to the side as they rounded the corner of an industrial building; the area was pretty deserted at this point in the evening, the surrounding buildings mostly housing factories and workshops, long vacated for the day by their respective employees. She peered into a foggy window curiously as Remus got her attention again.

“Hey, put this on.”

She looked up only to be tossed his sweater, the soft fabric warming her hands. “What’s this for?”

Remus pulled his brown leather jacket over his t-shirt, “Our covers are that we’re both…y’know, infected—“

“—that’s outdated terminology…”

Remus rolled his eyes, “Anyway, it would help if you actually…smelled the part.” He sniffed noncommittally. 

She furrowed her brows, “Please don’t sniff me, you weirdo.” Her eyes quickly widened when her thoughts caught up. “Wait, can you smell if a person is a werewolf?”

Remus nodded shallowly. “It’s not like, unique person-to-person, but lycanthropes have a slightly different scent that regular people.”

She gaped at him, finally throwing the sweater over her head and tugging up the too-long sleeves. 

When they arrived at the rec center, a handful of people were already milling about the decently sized room, some talking nervously with their heads close together, others laughing and jostling each other around like old friends. A few of them had seen better days, covered in filth with random mismatched clothes that had been through the wringer. Remus had to physically grab her arm to steer her towards a chair at the back of the room to prevent her from offering help, actual help, from a Ministry official. 

After almost an hour of waiting and observing the guests, a man finally rose at the front of the room and urged everyone to take a seat (if they could find one that is, the place was now packed). He was tall and broad, with a dark head of hair shaved close. The angles of his face were sharp and too abrupt, the lights of the rec center basement creating dramatic shadows from above. 

“Welcome,” he boomed from the front, “I’m happy you all could join us. My name is Hughes, and I’m here to talk about something near and dear to my heart,” he put a large scarred hand against his chest, “—Lycanthropy.”

A smatter of laugher ran around the room, the sound giving her chills. Werewolves had never scared her, but in this room, surrounded by this many vulnerable (albeit wildly dangerous) individuals being provoked by the most deadly threat to their world, she felt herself struggling to keep her heartbeat in check. Everything could go wrong at the drop of a hat. 

“I—like many of you—“ Hughes continued, beginning to stride up and down the front row of seats, “have what the rest of the world considers a disease. But I don’t like to use the term ‘infected’, or ‘bitten’, or ‘affliction’…I prefer empowered.” 

A few murmurs rumbled, and she watched as a few people began to smile. Beside her, Remus was the picture of stoicism.

“For as long as we’ve existed,” Hughes voice rose, “werewolves have been shoved to the bottom dregs of society. Shunned, beaten, and tossed aside by our Wizarding brethren. I think it’s about time we got back up. We think it’s about time we rose up the ranks.” He motioned to either side of the aisle, ten cloaked figures filing into the room and flanking him at the front. As they removed their hoods, she felt the blood drain from her body. Evan Rosier was standing beside Hughes, a politician’s smirk across his beautiful face, beside him like a shadow was Barty.

“Fuck…” she whispered, stiffening in her seat. He followed her gaze to their former classmates and quickly ducked his head. “They’ll blow up our spot the first chance they get,” she hissed. Glancing at the main doors, two more hooded Death Eaters waited on either side. 

“We can’t leave yet,” he muttered back, “not without drawing attention to ourselves.”

Remus hunched down, and she prayed they were indecipherable from this far back. Hughes began to pontificate once more, looking every bit the dark savior that he was pretending to be, flanked by his cloaked angels.

“—I was lucky enough to be welcomed into a society that doesn’t discriminate based on breed—“

Remus bristled, “Just blood status…” he murmured for only her to hear, and despite their current predicament, she fought a smile. 

“—The Dark Lord welcomes all into his care! He will raise the lycanthropes to statuses of power! No more will we be forced to hide in the shadows, shunned from work or places of ‘civilized society’. No more will we need to worry about the registry! With The Dark Lord in power, the Ministry will no longer interfere with the affairs of werewolves. We will finally be free!”

The previous smattering of murmurs and whispering was now becoming cheers; the sound of which grated on her ears, making her blood run cold. Remus stared intently at the back of the chair in front of him, and she could only imagine the thoughts running through his head. The promises that Hughes was making sounded phenomenal, she couldn’t argue with it, she just knew they were blandishments. She looked around the room at the cheering, hopeful faces of these poor, vulnerable people. 

It took everything in her to not break down crying. 

———

Once Hughes had gotten down from his soapbox, the meeting officially ended, but none of the participants made any attempt to leave. Instead, the vast majority milled about the space, most biting at the chance to speak with one of The Dark Lord’s mouthpieces. The air was electric, everyone in attendance being given a new hope for their future, or at least that’s what they were promised if they chose to join the ranks. 

Her and Remus hid behind a group of 5 lycanthropes deep in conversation, peering every so often to the far side of the room to wait for Evan to be distracted enough to make a swift getaway. Their chance finally came when he was roped into a discussion with an extremely disheveled, and very enthusiastic, young werewolf (the poor girl had stars in her eyes as she stared up at Evan’s rictus of mild disgust). Remus grabbed her hand and quickly pulled her toward the main doors, only to be stopped by a familiar slimy voice. 

“Well, well…”

Her blood ran cold as they turned to see Barty leering at them, Evan sidling up to his left with a cool grin. Remus immediately put a steadying hand on her lower back. 

“You two are a long way from home,” Evan said cheerfully, though the malice behind it was not lost on her. “What brings you to our humble little gathering?”

Words failed her as she tried to feebly grasp at any piece of their false backstory that she could salvage. Without missing a beat, Remus jumped in.

“Looks like you’ve made some interesting friends since school, Rosier.”

While Barty bristled, Evan crinkled his eyes. 

“We were just leaving…” she murmured, leaning back into Remus. His hand pressed harder into her back as she looped an arm around him in return. Her palms were sweating as she quickly tried to map out viable escape routes.

Evan shook his head, chuckling airily. “I think you’re mistaken, love…” His eyes met hers and the intensity in them could’ve melted iron. “…the night’s just beginning.” 

Fisting the back of Remus’s jacket, she felt something hard tucked into his waistband and upon realization, she acted out the most insane, knee-jerk plan (not her brightest moment, arguably). 

As Barty and another Death Eater moved to grab them, she ripped Remus’s wand out of his waistband, aiming a wordless shot at the ceiling above. The plaster began to fall in large chunks, and she quickly tore Remus away toward the main doors behind them. The Death Eaters weren’t deterred for long, but it did buy them precious seconds. As they ran down the labyrinth of alleyways, the sound of pounding footsteps followed. They needed to put enough space between them to apparate safely without risking a tag-along, so she began to shoot. Flashes of light bounced back through the alley as she fired spell after spell at the pursuing Death Eaters. Remus did the same ahead of her, his long legs carrying him much more swiftly. As she turned to cast again, she locked eyes briefly with Barty, hot on her tail. The heat of a curse flew by her head and she winced. A moment later, her arm burned like it was on fire. Looking down, she had a large gash on her bicep, and she didn’t need to guess who fired the blow. Remus screamed at her to hurry, and she forced her body to push through the searing pain to close the distance between them. He reached back to grab her hand, and the last thing she remembered was his fingers grazing hers before everything went black.

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Sirius Black x Fem!Slytherin!reader

2k words

cw: fluff

Regulus is waiting for you when you get back. You don’t really want to discuss his last question. You try to sneak past him to the girls’ dormitories.

“I need an answer,” he calls out, making his stop in your tracks. 

You weren’t in trouble. You couldn’t be in trouble. But that didn’t make you feel any less in trouble. The feeling of dread was already settled in your stomach as you made your way to the couch, retaking your place from earlier in the evening.

“Yes?” you ask, playing dumb. 

“Do you. fancy. Sirius?” he asks, speaking in a rhythm.

“I… I don’t think so?” Your face twists in your evident confusion of how you did feel for his brother.

“You don’t think so?” His disbelief is laced in his voice. “How do you not know?”

You blush and look away from Regulus. You knew you were bound to discuss this at some point with Sirius acting… however he was acting. 

“I mean, is he attractive? Yes, but I’d say the same thing about you and we’re just friends. He’s a semi-decent conversation and occasionally funny. But I don’t think it goes anywhere beyond that.”

“And those times you came back reeking of him? And disappearing with him at Slughorn’s party?”

You look back at Regulus so he can see you roll your eyes. 

“I’ve explained all of that to you. But what I want to know is why have you never mentioned his dog?”

“He has a dog? Since when?”

You can tell Regulus’ surprise is genuine. 

“Huh. I guess some time between when he ran away and today. Potter told me it was Sirius’ dog that got loose in their common room.” You shake your head. “I’m still fuzzy on why he has his dog here.”

Regulus leans back into the couch more. “Who knows anything about him and what he does? Bastard’s a mystery.”

“Definitely a confusing bloke…”

You move to stand up when Regulus reaches out to grab your arm.

“You think I’m attractive?” he asks with a smirk on his face.

You laugh. “Oh, in your dreams, Black.”

With a smile on your face, you go to bed. Padfoot is on your mind as you drift to sleep. It was surprisingly refreshing to have seen a dog, especially with only being surrounded by cats for so long. 

---

You regret telling Regulus that you thought he was pretty. You had only said it to get him off your back about Sirius. Now, he was using it to tease you. And the worst part was not knowing if he was serious in some of his comments, particularly the more flirtatious ones. You really hope you hadn’t ruined a friendship with a simple comment that was supposed to be about his brother. 

You are walking back to the castle after a quidditch game between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff when you realize that Regulus hadn’t made a comment about it. You had been with him since breakfast, standing at his side all of the match as he watched intently and made mental notes to bring up to the Slytherin captain later. Then he threw a casual arm around your shoulder, forcing you to match your pace more exactly to his.

“You know, I hear muggles give their girls their extra jerseys to wear on game days. I could, ah, give you mine next week.”

You physically exaggerate your eye roll.

“Anndd there it is!” you sigh. “No, Black. You’re pretty, but no.”

Regulus chuckles and squeezes your shoulder.

“But I’m pretty!”

“And an increasing pain in my ass,” you retort, making his chuckle turn into a fuller laugh. 

“Could be your pain.”

“Eh. I’ll pass.”

A few Slytherins around you ooh’d. Both you and Regulus roll your eyes while looking at each other with small smiles. Just as you didn’t know how serious Regulus was being, most of the Slytherins had no clue why Regulus was suddenly flirting with you semi-ardently. They knew he took you to Slughorn’s party, but that was about it. He was a private person. So for all they knew, you two had been dating for a while and keeping everything on the down low. As his teasingly flirtatious remarks occurred in more public places, you gained more attention for it.

And now Sirius had overheard. The Marauders weren’t too far behind you and Regulus as they left the pitch after the match. Regulus wasn’t necessarily quiet with his comment, nor were you with your response. He didn’t miss how comfortable you looked under his arm nor how at ease you were around him. Sirius narrows his eyes with a frown. He didn’t bother hiding that he was watching you; the boys knew he would be. Ever since you bonded with Padfoot, his obsession with you increased tenfold. 

“Did you all hear what she said?” Sirius asks as they reach their usual spot at the Gryffindor table for lunch.

“When?” James responds lazily, as if he’s already bored with the conversation before it’s started. “I’d ask who but you know.”

“As we were walking back, Prongs. She was talking to Regulus.”

“Can’t say I recall.”

“Well! Sounded like Regulus was flirting and she was turning him down. But! Oh, but, but, but! She called him pretty. If she thinks Regulus is pretty, that means I got to be pretty too, right?” Sirius rants, excitement filling his voice. “We got that singling resemblance!”

“Your family is literally inbred. Yes, you two look alike,” Peter says.

“Careful, Wormtail,” Sirius glares at him. “Watch what you say.”

“Just speaking the truth.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and turns back to James to continue his theories about turning you into a Sirius person. 

---

His plan ended up similar to being something that Peter had suggested a while ago: talk to her, ask her out. Heavy flirting is what Sirius was going for. His usual level of charm needed to be cranked up. Remus was the only one who wasn’t a huge fan of this and he let Sirius know. He suggested that Sirius just talk to her and try to spend time with her without being too imposing. Sirius, however, believed that wouldn’t get him the results he needed so he went with his gut. 

He follows you out of the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the last class of the day. James, Remus and Peter were already heading back to Gryffindor Tower. Sirius is glad that you’re only with Dorcas; if you had been with any of your other friends, he might have backed down, postponed his plan until you were alone.

“Dorcas, mind if I steal her for a moment?” he asks as he catches up with you.

Dorcas gives you a curious look. She doesn’t respond right away as the two of you have a nonverbal conversation. You were trying to get it across to her that you did not want to be left alone with Sirius right now, unsure if you could keep your temper. But when a wicked grin spread on her face, you knew you were doomed.

“If you tell me the password. I’ll go hang with Marls.”

You groan as Sirius smiles and tells her the new password. You cross your arms and turn toward Sirius once she is gone.

“What do you want?”

“I just wanted to confirm that you know how beautiful you are.”

You let out a noise of surprise that was similar to a snort. This boy was certainly full of surprises. 

“Um, thanks?” There was a tightness in your chest that you couldn’t quite describe.

“And, that Protego totalum you cast in class? Perfect.”

“Yeah? And my potion from class this morning? Impeccable, I’m guessing.”

Sirius isn’t a fan of how quickly you caught onto his flattery. Usually his charm got him a bit further. 

“Actually, yes,” he says, trying to save the little progress he thought he was making. “I’ve told you that you’re brilliant before, haven’t I?”

You shrug and shake your head. “I don’t remember.”

He hums.

“So what did you want? Or did you send Cas away so you could compliment-bomb me?”

“You, me, Hogsmeade this weekend. Butterbeers on me.”

You bark a laugh and try to turn it into a cough, but it’s too late. He heard the mirth of the noise.

“What?” he asks, sounding a bit hurt by your immediate reaction.

“Black, don’t be ridiculous. We both know it’d be a waste of our time.”

“Would it, though? I’ve enjoyed myself around you.”

You run a hand through your hair. You take a moment to figure out how to respond to him. It wasn’t Regulus. You couldn’t turn him down with a simple laugh and continue on. But there also wasn’t really a friendship to preserve under the refusal. Then you remember Padfoot.

“I won’t go on a date with someone who abandons their dog in their house’s common room.”

“What?”

You scoff. “Padfoot? Did Potter not tell you?”

Sirius shook his head, trying to not let you see that he was playing dumb. Of course he knew. He is Padfoot but you didn’t know that. Couldn’t know that and wouldn’t know that, not unless things took a dramatic turn for the better. 

“Your dog, the one you let run rampant in Gryffindor Tower. Dorcas was sent to get me because apparently he wasn’t listening to anyone. The common room was a mess when I got there. First years were terrified. I got him to settle and then waited for you to come back. I waited for probably over an hour. Where the hell were you that you couldn’t watch your dog?” You pause ever so briefly before continuing without his answer. He had opened his mouth to respond, but you spoke over whatever excuse he had. 

“You know, actually, I don’t care. It’s less of an issue where you were. The real issue is why is Padfoot at Hogwarts? Dogs aren’t allowed here! You have lessons! Homework! You can’t possibly care for a dog right now! Why isn’t he at the Potters? Or boarding? Or somewhere, I don’t know… Your cousin from Slughorn’s party? Could she watch him?”

Sirius has the decency to look a little remorseful. He’s looking at the ground like a child who got caught with their hand in the cookie jar. 

“Well?” you ask impatiently. 

“He’s usually at the Potters’ but you like dogs so-” Sirius starts to say.

Your incredulous laugh cut him off.

“Do not make this about me somehow,” you chastise him. 

“But it was for you.”

“If it was for me, from you, why weren’t you there?” 

“I… I had to be somewhere else.”

You roll your eyes and mutter under your breath, “Un-fucking-believable…”

“It’s true!” he practically begs, grabbing hold of the sides of your arms to keep you from turning away from him. “You have to believe me that if I could’ve been around to see your face when you saw a dog at Hogwarts, I would have been.”

“Whatever, Sirius.”

“Will you consider Hogsmeade? Please? Doesn’t have to be this weekend,” he asks, voice pleading. He’s also giving you puppy dog eyes, which he does with an uncanny likeness. 

“Why would I do that?”

Sirius stares at you.

“Because I brought a dog to Hogwarts for you.”

“Because I’m a dog person?”

He lets out a nervous laugh. He goes to scratch the back of his neck as he shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot.

“Yeah. And you liked Padfoot, so obviously I have a good taste in dogs.”

“I like all dogs. Except for the one in front of me right now.”

“All I’m asking for is one real date. No drunken shenanigans. No smoking unless you want to. Just The Three Broomsticks and anything you want from Honeydukes.”

You cock your head. “Honeydukes? Upping the ante, I see.”

He laughs more confidently now. “Remus could kill me if I took a trip to Hogsmeade without him and didn’t return with some kind of chocolate.”

“How about this…” you say, biting your upper lip, “if you can convince Regulus that us going on a date is a good idea, I’ll go. If you can’t, I don’t have to.”

Sirius’ face lights up more than you thought it would. You thought the idea was impossible so why did he suddenly look so hopeful.

“You’re on, sweetheart,” he says. “Be ready for Hogsmeade this weekend.”

tags: @2dloveshp, @yearninglustfully, @made-for-oliverwood, @ilovejamespottersomuch, @hisparentsgallerryy, @itsseaberri, @corawithfanfiction, @devilslittlehelper, @jllyunn, @barnes70stark,

tags: @crowleythesexydemon, @flow33didontsmoke, @navs-bhat, @louweenier, @l0g0phobe,

@ellouisa17, @theendofthematerialgworl, @marina468

[got-the-cheese-touch]

More than a name - teaser

HARRY POTTER x SIRIUS BLACK'S DAUGHTER! READER

PROLOGUE HAS BEEN POSTED! CHECK MY PAGE :)

slow burn. this follows Harry and readers time at hogwarts together, i'll try to be as canon as I can but they'll be some changes. this will have some wolfstar undertones (idk if they end up together, we'll have to see) as well as some dark themes bc y'all, reader has some trauma i fear. i'll put specific content warnings on each chapter release

no use of y/n (yippee)

an: PLEASE GET HYPE FOR TS, i'm so scared to post my writing. literally this has been in the works for a WHILE and if it flops, i'll delete it and crash out. don't fail me my minions ILY, enjoy this little trailer. probably releasing the prologue later tonight. word count is looking to be around 4k words.

this is super brief, i'm just testing the waters to see if this gets engagement or interest. (THANK YOU ILY ALL!!!)

ty to @thecutestgrotto for the dividers <3

(lmk if you want a taglist)

Sirius Black is an enigma. He’s a prisoner, a flirt, a menace, a marauding crook, a legend.

Sirius Black isn’t a fond story; rather a cautionary tale for little pure-blooded boys and girls who disobey their parents. He's a warning to the people brave enough to stand up against the Dark Lord.

Sirius Black is a name that rings through your ears and a face that is reflected when you look in the mirror. 

After all, you have his smile. 

His nose. 

His eyes.

Sirius Black, technically, is your father. But since you’ve never met him, all he is to you is a name.

The name your professors mutter after you’ve done something wrong. The name that you see in the inside cover of the library books, ones checked out years ago. His name is scratched into the side of the rocking chair in the Gryffindor common room. It’s on the roster of the quidditch team, the same one that won the championship for Gryffindor in the seventies. The last name that is stuck behind your first like dirt under your nails. Eleven letters, four syllables.

You see him everywhere, yet you’ve never laid eyes on the man. But when you attend Hogwarts, and meet a certain Harry Potter, things change.

or

Remus Lupin takes in the scared daughter of Sirius Black and when she is sent to Hogwarts, she slowly falls deeply and irrevocably in love with the boy who lived, the only other person who could understand the struggle of missing a person you don't even know yourself.