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shiftingdiariesofophelia · 2 years ago

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DR info !!!

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Name: Ophelia Ivy Adler

Birthdate: 26/5/1980

House: Slytherin

Blood Status: Muggle-Born

In-Universe Date: 26/5/1991 (my birthday!!!)

Patronus: Red Fox (can cast it by the end of third year)

Animagus: Black Cat (Third year)

Age: 11 (My CR self has childhood traumas, I want to be a child again in the same way some people age regress!!)

Safeword: Snivellus

Nicknames: Ophie, Ives, Lia, Felia (phelia)

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Some random facts about me/my world:

-I have a “familiar,” an old sort of magic in which an animal attaches to a witch or wizard. It is a black cat I’ve yet to give a name. It brings me good luck and spiritual protection (impervious to hexes/curses in its presence).

-I want to be the Minister when I grow up! I want to be involved in politics and help make the world a better place!

-After the first year, I spend my summers with the Weasleys, or helping out with the Order in later years. I grow a garden out at the burrow and it thrives! Molly loves cooking with fresh herbs and veggies!

-My best friend is Neville, and we meet Luna third year and become an inseparable trio! A Gryffindor, a Slytherin, and a Ravenclaw! Who would’ve thought?

-I learn to become an animagus upon accidentally stumbling across the process for it while looking through the restricted section. (I was trying to find out more about Lycanthropy because I suspected Professor Lupin was up to something.)

-I have a map of the castle and everyone inside, always up to date. It is not the Marauder��s Map, it is a very good replica that Snape developed his fifth year because he was insistent that James and Sirius were sneaking around the castle. (He was right,) but McGonagall quickly caught him and confiscated it that same year because he did not have an invisibility cloak to hide himself under. He did not try again to make another. It ends up accidentally stuck into one of my school books, somehow. Luckily, I am both an animagus, and have the other half of the Potters’ invisibility cloak.

-Neville and I go to the Yule Ball together because we’re too scared to ask/be asked by anyone else.

-Amortentia isn’t a “love potion,” it’s a ��Soulmate Scent.” Soulmates exist in our world. It smells like what your soulmate will. Mine smells of peppermint, dark chocolate, and expensive cologne.

-I am basically a human time-turner. In case anything awful happens accidentally, I can reverse time. Or if I’m sitting in a class I really don’t want to be in, I can fast forward time. In my universe, there are no time duplicates.

-Wizard Religion! We loosely believe in Greek Mythos, with Hecate being the Wizarding World’s patroness. I pray to her often and she rewards me with tokens of her gratitude. (Luck, skills/abilities, little objects of affection.) I like to think I’m one of her favorites, but we are all loved by her.

-Only first and second years have to wear uniforms, as a way to introduce us to formal wizarding customs and to keep us from wearing anything cringey or generally distracting to class, as kids sometimes do. After that we only have to wear robes to formal occasions. (First and last days of school, Halloween, Christmas if we’re at the castle for it, OWLs and NEWTs, etc.)

-My wardrobe is much bigger on the inside than it appears to be on the outside.

-School parties are definitely a thing and NEVER get interrupted. Snape is sometimes jealous because he was never welcomed at them when he was in school, but McGonagall and Professor Sprout often run interference on him so he doesn’t come and bust us. There’s a Quidditch before party, no one drinks and it’s generally just a friendly get-together. And then there’s Quidditch after-parties, invite-only at discreet locations you can only enter if invited by a player (from any team, even ones who didn’t play). There’s secret parties for every holiday, certain birthday parties that friends throw for one another, there’s a welcoming one and a going away one at the start of school and end of school respectively. Only fifth years and above are invited, and no one lets you drink or smoke if you’re under 16 to keep everyone safe.

-There’s a school trip with your year, every year. First years always go to one of the other wizarding schools to see how everyone else conducts their classes. We go to the American school my first year. Every trip is a week-long event, and we go to magical places across the world. Neville and I are ��buddies” the whole time and have the absolute most fun every time. A few of the places we go are the Scottish Highlands for a wizarding Sun festival (A sect of wizards who worship Apollo), Venice, and a week-long Cherry Blossom festival in Japan. There are also class-specific trips that we take. Herbology has at least one every year because professor sprout loves getting the students out into real nature. We go to the Everglades, the Rainforest, etc. to see magic herbs that are protected in nature! Astronomy takes a trip to Northern Canada to go and see the Northern Lights! Stuff like that, pretty much at least once a quarter/twice a semester (if you take the right classes, that is). Hogwarts definitely believes in field experience and hands-on learning.

-The earth is MUCH healthier in my reality! Pollution is limited and mega corporations have to have clean energy to be approved by NATO. There are wizarding non-profits who go out and magically do beach/ocean cleanups, and who magically restore fracking areas and logging operations. There is so little air pollution that you can pretty much see thousands of stars wherever you are in the world, except on cloudy nights. There’s no littering or trash on highways or in waterways. People there just care about the world more.

-Healthcare is free, globally. Relief aid is given to the muggle world by the wizarding community, though they have to operate in secret. People care about each other more and the world is not falling apart!

#shifting #harry potter #reality shifting #harrypotterdr #hogwarts dr #shifttok #hp shifting

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dramioneasks · 2 years ago

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Hermione’s Birthday (2022):

Happy Birthday, Hermione! by MsPolaPotter - G, one-shot - Hermione hates surprises, it's too bad her best friends love throwing them.

Score by trunksadin - E, one-shot - Hermione asks Draco for an unexpected birthday gift, and he delivers. (Draco/Hermione/Theo/Blaise)

Thirty, Flirty and Thriving... by LouisaCaraballo - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger thought 30 would look quite different, but here she finds herself alone at a pub wallowing. When Draco stops by to surprise her, she's skeptical of his motives.

Gift for Her is a Gift for Him by Musyc - E, one-shot - On Hermione's birthday, the present is for both of them.

As You Wish, Birthday Girl by slytherindiaries - E, one-shot - “What do you want for your birthday, sweetheart?” He whispers in her ear. "Just you.” It’s the same answer she gives him every year. "mm.” He bites down gently on her earlobe. “Pick a number between one and ten.” His voice is raspy with desire. Her voice hitches as he pinches her nipple and sucks a spot on her neck. “Six.” “Okay, that’s how many orgasms you’re getting.”“Mmm, sounds like a good day.” She lets her eyes flutter closed, enjoying the attention. "Not in a day, sweetheart. That’s how many you’re getting before you leave this bed.”

Black and the Dragon by SlytherinHermione - E, one-shot - “Hello lovebirds,” Sirius said nonchalantly, “What a great party it is.” He wasn’t joking, as everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, laughing and talking loudly. No one noticed them tucked away in the corner. No one noticed when Draco slowly trailed his hands down Hermione’s chest to cup her full breasts, and no one noticed when Sirius exhaled a lusty “Fuck”. “What are you doing Malfoy?” Sirius said, betrayed by the growing bulge in his jeans. Draco bent down close to Sirius’s ear to whisper, “I’ve watched you eye fuck my wife for a while now Black, and I think it’s time we do something about it.” (Draco/Hermione/Sirius)

The Best Memory by simplifiedemotions - T, one-shot - “Don’t make me emotional. I tried very hard to look pretty for you. ”You’re always beautiful.” “You’re inherently biased,” she says with a wry smile, then looks around them. “Now, what is this gift of yours? ”Making amends,” he says softly, and Hermione gives him a confused look. He looks behind her shoulder. Nods. "Making amends for what?” she asks, but before she can continue her line of questioning, Draco takes her gently by the shoulders and leans down to whisper in her ear. "Close your eyes.”

A Gift by Moonlight by Callmekiska (Rivers_and_Roads_3) - M, one-shot - When Draco reaches his 18th birthday without manifesting into a Veela, they assumed there were no Veela's left; that is, until Hermione's 18th birthday.

Must Be the Whisky by In_Dreams - M, one-shot - Hermione sees Draco twice a year, at her birthday and his. Until that isn't nearly enough.

can't keep my hands to myself by kylomalfoys - E, one-shot - For Hermione’s 18th birthday, she only has one wish: to lose her virginity. Draco wants to take it.

Daddy's Birthday Girl by sarahsempra - E, one-shot - Hermione has grown used to spending her birthdays alone. Her mother is always away on work trips and most years those trips fell on September 19th. Why should this year be any different? Today she turns nineteen – nineteen on the nineteenth – her golden birthday. One might think that she would be extra disappointed in her mother for being away for such a momentous birthday. But no, that is not the case at all. Why should she care whether or not her mother was here when she had Daddy to make all of her birthday wishes come true?

Yes, Minister by riddikulus_puff - E, one-shot - A forty-three-year-old Hermione Granger-Malfoy sat back against her dragon leather ornate seat, staring out at her Minister's office. Her vision hovered over the opposite matching dragon leather chairs, the framed photographs of her husband and children on her desk, staring at the different awards lining the shiny black tiled walls. She sighed heavily, rubbing her soft hand against her ageing face. There were probably better ways to spend a birthday, but she did have a Wizarding community to run, and what would it do without her? She thought to herself, chuckling as she stood and moved away from her chair, hovering around her office. But, at least, she had plans to spend the rest of her evening with her husband. However, Hermione wasn't aware that her husband had completely different plans for their night. A one-shot for Hermione Granger's 43rd Birthday (Draco/Hermione/Theo)

Chocksticks and Birthday Surprises by Halliwell19 - G, one-shot - It’s been almost five and a half years since the Battle of Hogwarts. Hermione and Draco have graduated from the Uagadou School of Magic, he as a Healer, and Hermione with a mastery in Magical Creatures. They have since moved back to England and now living and working in London, he as a Pediatric Healer and her as the Assistant Deputy Department Head for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures in the Ministry. Draco comes home after a long day to find his wife waiting for takeout.

Skipping Work by CosmicCthulhu - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger was notorious for her obsession with her work. Good thing Draco is there to remind her to take a break and have fun sometimes – especially on her birthday.

#hermione's birthday #dramione

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thistlecatfics · 3 years ago

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2021 Fanfic Year in Review

Thank you very much to @krethes for the tag and I am very belatedly answering :)

My first ever year writing and posting! It’s really been such a joy in a rather bleak year.

Total Completed Works: 16!

Total (Published) Word Count: 187,688 (wow!)

Fandoms I’ve Written in: Harry Potter and a little general meta about fic writing as a type of trauma therapy

Looking Back, Did You Write More Fic Than You Thought You Would This Year, Less, Or About What You’d Expected?: oh my gosh. So much more.

What’s Your Own Favorite Story Of The Year?: I’m feeling Till Tomorrow and Till Death (Remus/Regulus, 11k) a lot since I just posted it and am feeling the comment rush high :)

Did You Take Any Writing Risks This Year?: Yeah let me just write up my trauma and feelings and insecurities and desires and worst qualities and best qualities and put it on fictional characters on the internet. It’s felt pretty risky at times!

Do You Have Any Fanfic Goals For The New Year?: Finish book 3 of Andromeda Liberata!!!!

Most Popular Story Of The Year?: Reenactment (Andromeda/Hermione/Narcissa, 9k) (and I am THRILLED about that. I was a little salty that my most popular fics were the slash I didn’t spend that much time on vs the femslash I was very proud of so I’m so glad this fic holds my top spot for the year.)

Story Of Mine Most Under-Appreciated By The Universe, In My Opinion: Two Quaffles Pub (Cho/Ginny, 9k)!!! Or Cygnus’s Failure (Cygnus & Sirius, 3k).

Most Fun Story To Write: Good Chat, my poly marauders Love Island double drabble. I was at a weekend birthday party thing, got the inspiration, and drafted it on my laptop upstairs before returning to the party.

Most Unintentionally Telling Story: Um… the amount of myself in Andromeda Liberata is actually terrifying. Especially how much of the very worst things about myself I’ve put into that fic.

Biggest Disappointment: Hmmm… I wish I had finished my long-neglected Fleur/Tonks fic but I will get to it this year.

Biggest Surprise: This shouldn’t be a surprise BUT the more I am wholly and unabashedly myself, the more I attract and find other writers and people in fandom who are also unabashedly themselves and who like and write similar things and those who are nervously, courageously discovering themselves, and we co-create the types of fandom spaces in which we thrive. Basically, vulnerability is good. Shocking. I hate it.

#2021 fanfic year in review #VERY LATE to this #thistlecat fics

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nova-embers · 4 years ago

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Happy Birthday James Potter, currently hanging out with his lovely wife and his son Harry Potter who are spoiling him rotten.

Shout out to Remus and Sirius trying and failing to be discreet about the surprise party they are throwing. The kitchen nearly went on fire five time as Sirius claims he's "that hot, Moony."

Meanwhile, James tells Lily that he knows about the party and he should probably practice his surprise face. She kisses him softly because this man is the love of her life and an absolute dork.

Harry comes over with Ginny and the kids, who are excited for the prospect of cake. Running around full of life. James Sirius begging James for stories of his youth. James of course training him up to become Hogwarts next troublemaker.

They are a family, alive and well and thriving and it all started because James Potter gave his hand of friendship to four boys on the Hogwarts express.

Happy Birthday to James Potter, Prongs, Hogwarts' favourite troublemaker with a heart of gold.

#james potter #the marauders #jily #wolfstar #harry potter #ginny weasley #i love James so much #the Marauder who loved #happy birthday king #my favourite comfort character #he is alive what do you mean

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naireides · 8 years ago

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Hold on Hun, We’re Gonna Bunny-Hug (pt1)

“I’m not cruisin’ for a love connection,” she warns him with pursed lips. He still has her pinned to the door, one leg thrown around his waist as they grind into each other ever so often.

James doesn’t miss a step, just drags his teeth over her pulse and says, “Good. Me either.”

or, 'I slept with you the other day and I didn't know we had a mutual friend and now we’re sitting across each other for brunch and it’s awkward'

wc: 3.7k rating: M

read on ao3

The pub is raucous tonight. It seems like everyone and their mum decided to hit up the Three Broomsticks, and Rosmerta only had time to sling their drinks across the counter before hustling off to deal with another round of patrons. It just errs on the side of uncomfortable; the close packed bodies, the almost deafening levels of chatter, the slowly building humidity that leaves his skin damp, even after he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel in an attempt to cool down.

It’s a bit chaotic, but then again, he thrives off of chaos. At least, that’s what he says after watching some bloke spill his drink on a girl in an attempt to feel her up, only to receive a punch to the jaw. It results in a minor scuffle and he just sits off to the side observing it. It reminds him of an Andy Warhol painting for some reason; just a blur of colour and movement.

James Potter is not good at flip cup.

Or, more accurately, he’s not good at this blaspheme of flip cup that Sirius came up with. He’s making them chug a bitter stout instead of beer, and James grimaces the whole way through, costing him and Remus significant time.

He gives up after the third round of losing- he doesn’t hate himself that much, plus he’s sure that if he doesn’t wash down the taste with something else, his tastebuds would never forgive him- and Sirius pats him on the back.

“Oh don’t be sad, Prongs,” he says, pinching his cheeks.

James bats his hands away. “You’re a sadistic bastard.”

“Funny, that’s what my mum used to call me growing up.”

He doesn’t even bother to deign that with a response, just flips him off and picks his way through the crowd to get to the bar. It’s bit of a challenge to get to the bar, but he has the advantage of height on his side and is easily able to push past a gaggle of teenagers who look way to young to even be here.

Rosmerta hands him a beer and he raises the bottle in silent thanks before heading over to the side exit. It’s becoming increasingly hot inside here, and he can feel the intermittent bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck before getting soaked up by his collar. There are still Christmas lights draped around the doorframe and he tries to remember if they were always there when he yanks it open.

At the end of January, winter is still holding on with a stubborn grasp. The chill immediately nips at him and he shakes his sleeves down. His coat is still inside, bunched up between the seats of the corner booth they had appropriated for themselves earlier in the day.

Only when he leans against the wooden railing does he realise he’s not alone. There’s a girl with her back turned towards him, wearing nothing but a pair of stretchy leggings and a cable knit jumper, both too thin for this kind of weather considering she was standing unconcerned in a pile of grey slush. She holds a spliff lazily between two fingers.

He watches her as she brings it to her lips before puffing out smoke. She looks both harsh and ethereal all at once. The watery moonlight makes her skin look silver, but the orange glow of the street lamp sets her hair on fire. She breathes in another puff of smoke.

“Those things are illegal you know,” he says easily, taking a swig of his beer.

She barely even turns towards him. “You gonna rat me out?”

It must be the alcohol talking when he says, “Not if you share.”

That gets her attention, and she finally looks up at him. There’s a thick line of black smudged around her eyes, which are red rimmed. He’s not sure if it’s intentional or not, her makeup, and the redness can’t just be from the weed. Her free hand comes up to thumb away a piece of rolling paper left behind and he lets his eyes linger on the dip of her cupid’s bow.

After a moment of contemplation, she offers it to him, and he trades it for his beer. He watches the bob of her throat as he takes a hit, and then tries not to cough as he holds the smoke in his lungs. It’s been a while since he’s done this; James doesn’t really make it a habit, but he knows Sirius keeps a box stashed away in his room.

He exhales roughly, watching the smoke swirl and disappear in the night air, and hands it back to her. She clings to his beer though, refusing to give it back, and he laughs.

“You know there’s a bar right behind you,” he says, shoving his hands in his pockets. It’s a little more than cold now, and he has no idea how she’s surviving without even a hat.

“It’s my birthday, I deserve something special,” she snarks, wrapping her candy colour lips around it again. James is gentleman though, so he tries not to think of that in any other connotations.

Instead he just leans on the railing next to her and says, “Well happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

They lapse into silence and he watches as tiny powder white flakes start to float down again. The Christmas lights inside filter through the window and turns her hair into a kaleidoscope. His glasses start to fog.

“Not to pry,” he says, ruffling his hair, “But why spend your birthday out in the cold behind a bar?”

She cocks her head to the side. “Because all my friends are either dicks or live more than a day’s drive away, and my sister’s a bitch,” she says in that easy way you talk to someone you know you’re never going to see again.

The airy way she speaks throws him a little, but he still tosses out a, “Well fuck them then,” a beat later.

Her laugh is low and smokey, and it causes something warm to coil in his belly. “How about you fuck me instead?” she says, sly, and he can’t help but smirk as he looms over her a little. Her jumper slinks down and he’s treated to a flash of lace before she rights it in place.

“As fun as that sounds,” he drawls, “I don’t screw around with girls who can’t properly consent.” He looks pointedly at the blunt held between her two fingers and she scoffs.

“I haven’t even made it through half of it as yet,” she says, and the words would sound whiny coming from anyone else, but not her; not with the corners of her mouth upturned exposing a glint of teeth. “If anyone’s compromised, it’s you. You smell like a bar.”

“Funny enough, we’re standing in a bar love.”

“We’re standing outside a bar,” she corrects him, rolling up on the balls of her feet.

He tugs on a lock of her hair. “Nitpicker,” he grouses, and her laugh is like the first day of spring after a long winter.

“Hey, how am I to know that you’re not drunk?” she says, leaning into him. Her eyes look impossibly green, and he feels his cheeks warm when he realises that he’s staring.

“Because I say I’m not obviously.”

“Prove it then.”

And, well, she’s standing too close, smelling like wildflowers under the sting of smoke while the Christmas lights twinkle across her skin. He can’t help but duck his head and kiss her, soft and a little questioning, pulling back before the moment is over.

“Does that prove it?” he asks, voice pitched shy of a whisper.

“Mmm, prove what?” she replies. Her eyes are still closed, lips parted just a bit, and he wants to kiss her all over again.

“That I really wanted to kiss you.”

She slowly blinks her eyes open and gives him a toothy grin. Her fingers are like ice as they creep up the back of his neck, and he hisses when they brush against his skin. She thinks it’s funny and does it on purpose.

“I think,” she murmurs, tiptoeing so that their noses just brush, “I think I’m going to need some further clarification on that matter.”

The hand that curls in his hair tightens, and he bumps his nose against hers at the sweet sting of it.

“My pleasure,” he rasps out before kissing her in earnest.

Her lips are cold and chapped, but her mouth is hot, opening for him to lick into. She tastes like smoke and cheap beer and, strangely enough, cinnamon, and she gives as good as she gets when it comes to kissing. The hand in his hair makes it its mission to rumple it as much as possible, and she doesn’t protest when he does the same, tugging on those long locks until she moans with it. His other hand is free to skim her body as they trade kisses, tracing the curve of her breasts, palming her ass, and she lets him, rubbing up against the hard lines of his body.

When they finally pull back, they’re both breathing hard, and her eyes are sparkling.

“That proof enough?” he pants. His hand is still resting dangerously low on her back.

She just responds by kissing him breathless once more.

“Well now that we’ve established that both parties are enthusiastically consenting,” she says after they managed to extract themselves from each other long enough to speak. That little sly grin is still pulling at her now slightly bruised lips and James is finding it hard to stop touching her. “I think we can finally get on with the show.”

His thumbs dip into the waistband of her leggings, brushing her tailbone. “You gotta venue in mind? Because I gotta say, my house is a bit too far right now.”

The sly grin turns sharklike and she leans in to tug on on his earlobe. “I think I can up with something,” she says, ghosting her lips across his cheekbone.

He flashes a lopsided grin at her. “Lead the way.”

Her ‘something’ turns out to be the handicapped stall of the women’s bathroom and James barks out a laugh.

“Classy,” he smirks as she twists the lock in place. It’s small and cramped and he crowds her up against the door, nipping at her lips. “Real classy.”

“What can I say, I’m a high end kind of girl,” she jokes, though it comes out thready as he leans in to lick a stripe down her neck.

They get lost in each other again, conversation petering out into a murmured phrase here and there, interspaced with long pauses and hot kisses. It’s only when he makes the mistake of asking her name do things get awkward.

She falters against his neck, nails digging into his biceps as she pulls back. He lost the flannel a while ago to her wandering hands, and his have been very happily plucking at her nipples through the soft cup she’s wearing.

“I’m not cruisin’ for a love connection,” she warns him with pursed lips. He still has her pinned to the door, one leg thrown around his waist as they grind into each other ever so often.

James doesn’t miss a step, just drags his teeth over her pulse and says, “Good. Me either.” He doesn’t have time for a girlfriend, not when he’s supposed to start his new job in a few weeks, and he’s heard firsthand just how hard this firm works their recruits.

“Just making sure we’re on the same page,” she says, pulling his back up and kissing him. “I’m Lily by the way.”

“James,” he mutters against her lips, tugging on them before he starts kissing down her neck, over her chest. He drops to his knees in front of her, scraping his teeth against the bump of her abdomen.

“Fuck,” she says, voice hitching, “You don’t have to-”

“It’s your birthday. You deserve something special,” he interrupts, parroting her words back to her, and a slow smile pulls at her lips.

“Alright,” she says, moving her hand from his forehead. “Treat me then.”

He gives her a two finger salute and tugs her leggings off before throwing one of her legs over his shoulder. It causes her to slump in an awkward half crouch against the door, but she soldiers on, grabbing a fist full of his hair. “For balance,” she winks, and he can’t help but roll his eyes.

There’s a small tattoo over her hipbone that he drags his lips over, and he rubs his thumbs into her skin.

She’s wet, but he still takes some time to prime her with his fingers, tapping a careless rhythm on her clit as he strokes her, until she’s shivering above him. Only after he’s gotten her nice and slick does he lick into her, and there’s a dull thump as she throws her head back against the door, a high pitched whine leaving her throat.

It’s been a while since he’s done this too, hooked up, and he tries to make it last, fucking into her cunt with tongue, sucking on her clit, before backing off with soft kitten licks as she sighs and groans above him. She’s mostly quiet, pulling on his hair a lot, but when he does something that gets a noise out of her, he does it again and again until she gives a little choked off sob that he comes to think of as a job well done.

Eventually, there’s only so many times her can push her to the edge before dragging her back, and by the time his tongue curls around that little bud, teeth gently scraping against her hypersensitive flesh, her legs are shaking, and when she comes, her hips jerk helplessly against his face. He lets her, lapping it all up as she rides out her high, and when she finally slumps boneless, she pushes his head away.

“Fuck,” she says again, pulling him up. She gives him a messy kiss, licking her taste out of his mouth and at this point he’s painfully hard against the zipper of his jeans, and he can’t stop the little helpless jerk of his hips when she bites his lip.

She pulls away, gasping, and her hands immediately go to his belt, undoing it with nimble fingers and he can’t help but thrust against her palm.

When she gets to her knees, he groans, throwing his arm across his eyes, almost knocking his glasses off.

“My turn to repay the favour,” she smirks, and then proceeds to suck him off wet and messy, her mouth and tongue and throat driving him wild to the point that he can’t even talk anymore.

After he comes, they both take a minute to catch their breaths. He hands her a wad of toilet paper to clean up while he rubs his smudged lenses against the soft material of his t shirt.

“Thanks for that,” Lily says, looking a little pink faced as she tugs her pants back up. It’s kind of cute to see her flustered after all the big talk she was pulling all night, and James bite back a smile.

“No worries,” he says, his belt clicking into place, “And uh, happy birthday.”

“Thanks.”

Lily leaves first, with a dorky half wave, and this time he doesn’t even try to hide his laughter. In fact, it gets even louder when the wave turns into her flipping him off, and she huffs and rolls her eyes, but he can see her smile as she pushes the door open.

He follows a few minutes later, taking the time to try and compose himself. It’s all for naught though because the minute Sirius sees him he rolls his eyes.

“So that’s where you went off to,” he says, sipping his dirty martini, “Of course you did. The one time all four of us finally get to spend some time together without this stupid ‘adulthood’ cloud looming over us, you go slagging off with some girl.”

“Shut up Padfoot,” he grumbles, shouldering him just rough enough that his drink threatens to slosh over.

“Leave the man alone, Sirius,” says Remus, kicking him from under the table, “We all know the only action James has been getting for a while was his left hand.”

“Thanks mate.”

“Was she hot?” Peter asks curiously.

“A total babe.”

“Did you get her number?”

He hesitates just long enough for Sirius to scoff, “Of course he didn’t. He’s a bloody wanker trying to play it cool.”

“I’m not,” he objects, pouting a little, “She didn’t want to do anything serious.”

It’s the wrong thing to say, because Sirius gets that glint in his eye and then proceeds to simper in the most sugary voice possible, “Poor Prongs here just didn’t want to get his heart broken.”

“I didn’t- shut up, that’s not true,” he says, feeling his ears burn. He pushes back from the table. “I’m going to get something to drink; you all want anything?”

“You owe us the next round for bailing,” Remus says, draining the last of his pale ale.

“I’ll buy the next two if you drop this by the time I get back.”

“Deal.”

The crowd had cleared a bit as it got later, and he can’t stop himself from inconspicuously scanning the room. There’s no sign of red hair and he feels his heart give a strange kind of twinge. Moving up to the bar, he tries to push all thoughts of her out of his head, rattling off his friends’ orders seamlessly.

“Oi hurry up you prick!” It is quickly followed by a thump that rattles the door as Sirius throws a shoe towards it. “We’re going to be late!”

“I’m coming, jeez,” says James, pulling his bedroom door open while he shrugs on his coat, “Keep your knickers on.”

“Honestly, I don’t even know why you take so long to get ready,” he says, ignoring him, “You obviously don’t put any effort into looking good.”

“Thanks.”

Sirius glance at his phone. “We have twenty minutes to get there. Evans is going to rip my balls off if we’re late.”

“Who the fuck even does brunch?” James grumbles, unlocking his car.

“Cultured people, you fuck,” Sirius shoots back at him. “Don’t expect you to know anything about that.”

Sirius likes to pretend that going to art shows and listening to indie rock bands croon in hole in the wall coffee shops that charge way too much for a macchiato makes him cultured. James on the other hand is as mainstream as one can get, and he purposely flips the radio over to the top forty hits just to piss him off.

His responding theatrical groan sounds better than whatever electro-pop music is being blasted through his speakers.

“I hate you,” he says, and then tries to block it out with his earbuds.

The restaurant they’re going too is the exact kind of thing Sirius would be into; everything is sleek and black and geometrics galore.

“It’s what the kids call minimalist,” he says smugly when they pull up.

“It’s what I call an eyesore,” says James, “Why couldn’t we do something else like, I don’t know, normal lunch. Or invite your friend over for dinner and video games?”

“Shush, Evans loves this place. She says the food is to die for,” he says absentmindedly, too busy searching the crowd for his new friend.

Apparently they met a few weeks ago when she moved into town to take up a job in the communications department of the company Sirius works with. They bonded over their shared love of Freddie Mercury, leather jackets, and motorbikes. It’s the first time Sirius has made an actual friend in a while, and James can’t help but be intrigued by this mysterious Evans.

He must find her, because the next thing he knows, he’s pulling him forward, weaving through the tables.

James doesn’t know where exactly they’re going, and as a result he almost walks into Sirius’ back.

“Jesus fuck, give a guy some warning,” he grumbles, pulling off his glasses to clean the new smudge across them, but Sirius either doesn’t hear him, or ignores him, choosing instead to say, “Evans!” and hug some stranger.

By the time he’s plopped his specs back on, pleasantries have been exchanged and Sirius is in the middle of introducing him.

“-my mate James, the one I’m always telling you about; Prongs,” he says, and James goes to offer his hand and a smile before realising exactly who’s in front of him.

His hand stills awkwardly in the air, smile freezing on his face as he just stares at her. Her poker face is much better than his though, because besides the slight widening of her eyes, she doesn’t react much.

“-Prongs, this is Lily Evans,” Sirius says excitedly, oblivious to it all.

“Nice to meet you,” she says, and her voice sounds a bit different when she hasn’t been smoking, more silvery, and he finds that his mouth has gone dry.

“Right,” he says, and his voice comes out a bit strangled. He clears his throat and offers his hand properly this time, trying not to think about what else she could do with her hand when she wraps it around his. “Yeah, nice to meet you too.”

“Wait until you meet the rest of them, Evans,” Sirius says as they all pull out their chairs. It’s a three person table so no matter where he sits, he still ends up next to her. James is pretty sure his face is doing something very weird right now, but no one has called him out on it, at least not yet. “If you can stomach Prongs here, you can handle the rest of them.”

“Don’t worry,” she says, and there’s that glimmer in her eye, the same one she had just before she kissed him the first time, “I’m sure James and I are going to get along just fine.”

Something about her expression makes him swallow thickly, eyes dropping to the black matte table instead.

God, he is so fucked .

#jily #jily fanfiction #fyeahjamesandlily #my writing #hpff #nai did a thing #well there goes the last of my childhood innocence i've written smut for jily now #*kazoo noise*#fic: hold on hun we're gonna bunny-hug #hp

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