#sirius trying to figure out where the danger is

[lulublack90]

Prompt 14 - The Hog's Head

@wolfstarmicrofic November 14, word count 525

Previous part First part

They rushed into a dingy little pub. Everything was sticky with spilt beverages, there was straw on the floor and a distinct smell of goats, even though Sirius could neither see nor hear any. A man with a scruffy white beard and the dirtiest dishcloth Sirius had ever seen, wiping the inside of a glass, appeared behind the bar. 

“Finally made it then, did you? Dorcas said you’d be here days ago,” The man grumbled. 

“So what’s the trick here then?” Sirius asked, his head twisting to take in the entire pub floor. Something should have happened by now. He was waiting for a killer unicorn or some other hell beast, like a bunny, to appear. But nothing came thundering out of the shadows, and when he turned back at the barman, he was looking at Sirius like he was a total idiot. 

“Are you alright, son?” The barman looked to Remus. “Did the willow bonk him on the head?” Remus shook his furry head but didn’t take his eyes off the barman. 

“You know Dorcas?” Sirius asked, still on full alert. 

“Yup. I’m the one she sends all her strays to. It used to be my brother, but apparently, he has better things to be doing these days. So I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,”

“And who exactly are you?” Sirius asked, his eyes flicking back to the man as he spoke to him. 

“Aberforth,” Aberforth said simply. Sirius ground his teeth together. 

“Okay, hi Aberforth. Say, Aberforth, what exactly are we doing here?” Sirius was quickly losing patience with the man. 

“This is it—the end of your journey. You won,” Aberforth continued when Sirius’s eye twitched. 

“The trials are over?” Hope filled his voice as he reached out for Remus, his fingers tangling in the soft fur around his neck. 

“Yup. Well, apart from the last bit in here before you go to claim your reward,” Sirius and Remus were back on alert at his words and watched as he bent behind the bar and set the now full glass he'd been ‘cleaning’ on the counter along with an equally grimy looking tankard filled with the same gold coloured liquid. “Drink this and the door under the hog’s head will appear and take you to your final destination,” Aberforth told them, as he pointed at the giant stuffed hog’s head on the wall beside the bar. 

Sirius picked up the two drinks and grimaced. The glass was somehow greasy and gritty at the same time. He gipped as he brought it to his lips.

"This had better not be poisoned," Sirius grumbled at Aberforth and downed the contents. 

It was actually quite pleasant. Warm and tasting of butterscotch. He held up the tankard and helped Remus to drink it down. As soon as both drinks were drunk, the wall under the taxidermy hog's head began to glow. “Go on then,” Aberforth urged. “And well done,” His dower face broke into a smile, crinkling the skin around his eyes until he looked quite friendly with his periwinkle blue eyes. 

Together, Sirius and Remus passed through the glowing door, blinded by the white light. 

Next part

[iamgonnagetyouback]

sirius black x drunk!reader who ends up drunk confessing to him

The night was buzzing with laughter, the Gryffindor common room alive with the afterglow of yet another Marauders' prank successfully pulled. You leaned heavily on the arm of the couch, a giggle escaping your lips as you watched Sirius Black tell the most outrageous story—his arms flailing dramatically as James, Peter, and Remus sat around, half-listening, half-exchanging looks.

And you? You were tipsy. More than tipsy. You were well on your way to being drunk.

You glanced over at Sirius, your heart squeezing in your chest. You and Sirius were stuck in the most confusing situationship known to wizardkind. He’d flirt with you relentlessly, you'd flirt back, but neither of you had ever crossed that unspoken line. It was like some sort of dangerous dance, where both of you were afraid of the fall but addicted to the thrill.

But tonight… tonight felt different.

"Sirius!" James slurred slightly, giving his friend a nudge with his elbow. "I think our dear Y/N is starin' at ya."

Sirius grinned, but there was something softer in his eyes when they met yours. His voice was full of mischief when he called out, “Oi, Y/N, having a good time, love?”

You were feeling bold, fueled by the firewhiskey swirling in your system. You pushed yourself up from the couch, a lopsided smile plastered on your face as you staggered toward him, swaying slightly but giggling all the same. Remus gave you a knowing look, shaking his head fondly, while Peter just chuckled.

“You’re soooo pretty,” you drawled, poking Sirius’s chest with your finger. He caught your hand, steadying you, and smirked.

“And you’re drunk,” he teased, his fingers still wrapped around yours, and you swore you saw his eyes soften. His hand was warm, and it made your heart race.

“M'not that drunk,” you mumbled, leaning closer, your face inches from his. “Maybe a little. But that doesn’t make it any less true, Black. You. Are. Gorgeous.”

Sirius’s smirk faltered for a second, something flickering behind his eyes, something deeper than the usual playfulness. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

You frowned, tugging your hand free from his grasp and crossing your arms defiantly. “I know exactly what I’m saying. I’m saying you’re bloody pretty and I like you,” you declared, with a dramatic hand gesture that almost made you lose your balance. Sirius caught you, his arms steady around your waist now, and for a moment, you just stood there, the room spinning around you but Sirius… Sirius was your anchor.

“Y/N…” he started, his voice quieter now, his usual bravado slipping. The tension between you two had always been there, simmering just under the surface, and it felt like it was about to boil over.

“I like you too much,” you confessed in a rush, your cheeks heating as you realized what you’d just said. “But I don’t know… it’s just… we never… you know?” You huffed, frustrated with the jumble of your words, blinking up at him with wide, uncertain eyes.

His thumb brushed against your cheek, and your breath hitched. “You’re drunk,” he repeated softly, but this time, it wasn’t a tease. It was almost like he was trying to protect himself.

“Maybe. But that doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”

Sirius looked at you, really looked at you, like he was trying to figure something out, trying to decide if you were serious—pun intended. “You don’t want this just because you’re a bit tipsy, Y/N. You can’t just…”

“Oh, for Merlin’s sake, mate,” James groaned from the couch, interrupting the moment as he threw a pillow at Sirius. “Just kiss her already! We’re tired of watching this bloody show.”

Peter snorted, trying to hide his grin behind his hands, while Remus just shook his head, amused as ever. “You two are impossible,” he murmured under his breath.

Sirius glared at James, but when his eyes returned to you, the firelight flickering across his face, you could see the vulnerability there. You reached up, your hand resting gently against his chest, right over his heart.

“I mean it,” you whispered. “I’m not just saying it because I’ve had a bit too much to drink. I like you, Sirius. And I’m tired of pretending like I don’t.”

Sirius swallowed hard, his usual confidence slipping, replaced by something far more genuine. He leaned in slowly, like he was giving you time to change your mind, his lips brushing softly against yours.

The kiss was tender at first, like he was still unsure, but when you kissed him back, your hands sliding up to his neck, he deepened it, pulling you closer. The world around you faded, the cheers from your friends distant as you lost yourself in him, the scent of his leather jacket and the warmth of his arms wrapping around you completely.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dazed, you both stared at each other, faces flushed, hearts racing.

“Finally,” James muttered from behind you.

Peter let out a low whistle, clapping slowly. “It only took them what, two years?”

“Shut up, Wormtail,” Sirius shot back, though his voice was playful now.

Remus raised his glass toward you both. “To no more mixed signals.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, your head still spinning but this time not from the alcohol—just from him.

Sirius turned back to you, his forehead resting against yours. “I should’ve done that ages ago.”

“Yeah, you should’ve,” you teased softly, grinning.

His eyes were full of affection now, no more teasing, no more hesitation. “You’re still drunk, love.”

“And you’re still pretty,” you countered, smirking.

Sirius chuckled, kissing your forehead this time. “Merlin help me, I’m in love with you.”

Your heart swelled, and despite the alcohol making your mind foggy, that confession rang clear.

“Good. Because I’m in love with you too.”

Sirius’s grin was blinding, and when he kissed you again, it felt like everything you’d been waiting for had finally fallen into place.

And this time, no one interrupted.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Meeting Royalty {Part two}

Remus Lupin x Dutchess!Reader

English Love Affair 5sos

Masterlist

Summary: A chance meeting at a coffee shop}

wc-2210

An: Did I say I wasn't going to do a part two? This is for you amatoanima <3

The idea of trying to sleep that night made your bones ache. You stayed up, in your oversized room, in your oversized bed, tracing the large bit of signature that was left. You couldn't stop thinking about him, not a moment of peace as you found yourself wondering just how far this could go.

Your father could care less about your frequently documented affairs. The flings you would have with men of his court, government officials, other nonfamilial Dukes and even Duchesses if you fancied. He made it clear he was too busy to worry about his wild child. He could tend to his status or his daughter, much like Roosevelt. 

You didn't have many rules, outside of what your family dictated for you. You didn't care for prying eyes or who would catch you with a common boy- in fact, the idea of being behind caught with Remus was somewhat thrilling. What a scandalous headline, no longer running around with people of your status or proximity, but just a boy you found absolutely stunning. 

Eventually sleep took you. You woke up early in the morning while your lady in waiting prepared tea at the foot of your bed. 

“Your grace?” She called over to your groggy form as you turned over to try and get comfortable once more. 

“Yes?” You groaned out into your pillow and she huffed, walking over to raise your hand. 

“You're getting ink all over your pillows! Up! Up, now!” She scolded and you groaned, forcing your body to sit as she pulled off your bedsheets. Eventually it hit you, ink.

And the mission began. Finding your newest infatuation.

You don't have much luck.

Days turned into weeks, and still, you found yourself haunted by the encounter. You kept the library books on your nightstand, a reminder of your verbal dance with the mysterious stranger. You would find yourself daydreaming, imagining the possibilities of a day where you would see him again. You felt like a teenage girl again.

Eventually, when two months passed, you gave up. As winter approached, so did creep your responsibilities as a socialite. Going to parties and hosting your own, your fathers favorite thing to show off his money. It kept you busy for a while, but you still found time to return to that library.

Then, one rainy afternoon, as you were making your way to your favorite café, you spotted a familiar figure outside. Tall, tanned, and absolutely drenched. He was running across the small street, from a car stopped in the middle of the road. At first you were startled, his mop of sopping hair covered his face.

Now, you never had to deal with any real danger when you were with your chaperones, but someone stopping their car in traffic to run to the coffeeshop in the pouring rain? This was either a romcom or a very poor assassination attempt. 

The closer he got the more attention you paid him. Then, the door slammed open and everyone grew just a few decimals quieter. Your heart raced, practically bruising your ribs as you recognized Remus standing in the doorway, his hair tousled and a hesitant smile on his face. The moment your eyes met, the world around you faded away, and all that mattered was that water logged boy and the poor excuse of a withering book in his hand.

“Fancy seeing you here,” He spoke first, walking towards you. One of your chaperones stood but he was stopped by your lady, who dismissed his confused looks. Remus stared him down, a bit startled before you shot him a bright smile and gestured to the seat next to you. He wet his lips and sat down, still unsure of his next move.

He could see, just behind you in the window, Sirius with his head out the window roof of their broken down beater of a car, James slapping the driver side door as he also hung half way out cheering him on. They had the right sense to lower their heads when an older woman in the car behind them began to honk.

Your eyes flickered between him and the window behind you. Watching his friends make a fool of themselves. You smirked and turned to look up at Remus, trying to hide your bubbling excitement, “Still with me, Moony?”

He snapped out of his daze and chuckled, that warm sound wrapping around throat, making you swallow a bit thicker. 

“I’ve been meaning to return your book.” He broke the silence, it did nothing to lessen the insane tension between you two. Even your babysitters looked away.

“That so?” You spoke back airily, looking down at his lips. Just begging him to do it.

“Yeah.” He muttered. His eyes tracing the curve of your nose down to your lips as well. He quickly looked down at the book in his hand and smirked. Leaning forward he set the poor book down as it hardly clung to life. The spine was creased, the leather cover was bent, the pages were dog eared and the old binding was loosening worse then when you first bought it. 

You couldn't help but laugh, who is this guy? Reads a book like this so many times? 

You picked up and flicked a page or two, some falling out of the cover to the table. Then, you saw it. Several little lines of handwriting you could only describe as chicken scratch. They were all over every page and every clear line, random things you didn't quite understand, small comments here or there, but you noticed one thing that seemed to be a constant.

Your name.

Your eyes flicked up to his and he leaned back, still drenched and he looked a bit shy. 

“Did you.. write notes? In the columns, for me?” You asked, voice teasing and he rubbed the back of his neck with a small growing smirk. 

“May have.”

“You wrote me notes in an old diary from the 1800s? An artifact of time and you defaced it with my name and your chicken scratch? About Werewolves?” You continued, even as you tried to sound annoyed to keep up the act, your smile betrayed you. What an absolute maniac! Who does that? And then have the audacity to look so bloody pleased with himself?

He leaned a bit closer and made the way his eyes traced your face a bit more obvious. 

“I couldn't stop thinking about you.” He whispered before gesturing to the book. “It was my only outlet.”

You felt the heat rise to your neck as you imagined just how much of that behavior would reflect in how he treated you. The book was hardly together, it had been read, read, and read again. Yet he still had enough mind to write down every single thought he had. He treated it with care and showed so much passion to every page.

He made a mess of it. He could make a mess of you.

You looked him up and down, before you picked up the pages and slipped them back into the book. You leaned your chin on your palm and looked at him through your lashes. “Behave yourself.”

“You can't exactly blame me.” He continued, nipping at your small weak walls and taking great pleasure in how you squirmed in your seat. “Since I returned the book.. can I borrow something else?”

“Hm? What's that?” 

“You. Just for the afternoon.” He was suddenly shy again, not that you minded. You bit your tongue a bit as it poked out to wet your lip, his eyes licked on it and you smirked. 

“All yours, Moony.”

You spent the afternoon talking and laughing as the rain poured outside, sharing stories and sly flirts that felt so far removed from what was going on around you. With each passing moment, you found yourself falling harder and harder for him. His charm, his sly comments, his cheeky looks and his flirty remarks. Though, nothing appealed to you more than his mind. You could see a million different things running behind his eyes. You were never one obsessed with smarts, you had your own fair level of intelligence, but you never knocked someone off your roster for their mind alone.

But man was the battle of wits that you two exchanged utterly intoxicating.

As the sky darkened and the café began to empty, you realized that this was the beginning of something dangerously tempting. You both walked out together, your arm tucked under his as he escorted you to the door. You both pretend you didn't see his friends spying on you from a few yards away. Your chaperones left to retrieve the car and left the two of you alone.

“When can I see you again?” He asked without a moment of hesitation. You smiled and reached forward with your free hand, running your fingers over his stuffed button up. 

“When are you free next?” You hummed and he stared down at you.

“Tomorrow.”

You almost wanted to laugh. You knew you had a way about you, something that drew the boys in. Usually your tabloid worthy affairs were more coy with their affections. Remus was far more serious. He seemed to get what he wanted.

Oh sweet Mother Magdalene, he could have you if he really wanted.

“Same place?”

“I'll meet you here.” He mused before you both trailed off to silence. Just staring at each other's lips.

“Merlin, just kiss already!” You heard that familiar voice, black haired boy if you remember correctly, shout from their car. You laughed and he leaned in. It startled you at first but you melted in so easily. The kiss was messy and playful, your teeth clashing messily and your lips curled from where you were laughing. 

Eventually it melted into a proper and far more hungry kiss. Your hands found his shoulders and his found your waist. He pulled you flush against his still wet clothes.

 “Remus.” You whispered between his hungry mouth. “Remus, you'll catch a cold.” You tried to insist but he just deepened the kiss. You had become so familiar with it, you didn't even register the faint click of a camera coming from inside of the cafe. 

Eventually, and much to your shared dismay, your chaperones returned and ushered you into the car. 

You stared out the window and pouted a bit as you drove away from who you were sure was to be your soulmate. It was a long drive, the longest you've ever taken. It was the first ride you were sure you had taken as just a fraction of yourself. Considering your heart was growing miles and miles away in the scarred hands of a man who promised to take care of it. 

You tucked the book closer to your vest and gave a dramatic and fond sigh. “He's just..” 

“Your grace.” Your lady tried to scold but you simply shook your head. “This won't be ruined for me, ma'am. He’s just so bloody magnificent! How does a man like that truly exist?” You insisted and your other chaperone shook his head. You huffed at that.

“Truly! Did you see his eyes? His smile? I almost keeled over! Did I play it cool? Oh god I hope I did. Would he think I was weird if I painted my nails with his eye color?” You began to ramble and your poor guardians exchanged a look as you held the book tighter and fell to the side of the back seat, wrist to your head, and your face a complete red.

“He’ll be the death of me. I swear it.” You cooed in a dreamy way and your lady laughed. 

“Not if your father hears first.” She tutted and you rolled your eyes. “As if he cares. Let me have my fun!”

~~~

Remus was not in a much better state. Climbing into the car and James quickly began to speed off.

“An hour! Lily wanted me home an hour ago!” James complained and Sirius shook his shoulder.

“Lighten up Prongs! Remus got himself a muggle girl!” Sirius turned to look at him with a smirk. “A fit one at that. Heard she was a {L/N}? A duchess, eh Remus? Fancy yourself a royal?” He teased and Remus couldn't help but smile.

Sirius gawked and Remus quickly tried to hide it. “Oh ho ho! No you don't! What's the deal? Y'all meeting again?” Sirius pushed and Remus leaned back. Face a red mess and staring up at the roof of the car.

Sirius looked to James who adjusted his mirror to see him better. “Oh shit he's whipped.”

“Whipped doesn't even begin to describe it.” Remus muttered.

~~~

The next morning you woke up before your lady came to wake you, you dressed and cleaned your room, planning for company later.

Rushing down stairs and into the kitchen to give your mother a kiss and your father your usual grunt of knowledgement. Then you noticed the front page image of the newspaper. You being practically devoured by your new London boy-

What could possibly be a better wake up call? Oh, you knew. The very same boy waiting for you, to do it all over again.

[moonstruckme]

On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips. 

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.” 

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up. 

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.” 

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the chance.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice. 

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months. 

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.” 

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction. 

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.” 

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”  

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.” 

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare. 

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.” 

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d asked him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.” 

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway. 

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan. 

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.” 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.” 

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected.

He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes. 

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you. 

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.” 

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often. 

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time. 

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.” 

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own. 

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.” 

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.” 

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.” 

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.” 

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography. 

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse. 

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough. 

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled. 

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance. 

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.” 

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.” 

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves. 

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark. 

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.” 

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once. 

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it. 

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”  

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.” 

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.” 

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily. 

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.” 

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.” 

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.” 

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.” 

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray. 

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.” 

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs. 

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.” 

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest. 

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.” 

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.” 

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.” 

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed. 

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door. 

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out. 

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.” 

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.” 

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly. 

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.” 

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.” 

[arliedraws]

Do you think that if Sirius had revealed himself to Harry when they first met, he would have attacked Sirius? After all, he had already seen him on the Muggle news. Or how do you think Sirius would act? I've been pondering this question for a while now.

PS: Thank you for all your work. <3

Ha! Funny, you should ask! This was the first fic I wanted to write in 2020 after I took a long HP fandom break. I was just starting to dip my toes into writing again, and I didn't know where I wanted the fic to go. I had about a gazillion different ideas and probably wrote about 50k words on several version of the same story.

But here's the first 8-9 pages that answers your question about how I think it would've gone!

There was something there.

If only it would move, he could tell what it was—but it stood there, motionless, gaping at him with pale, glowing eyes.

Harry swallowed hard. What was it doing? Had it been watching him since he left the Dursleys?

“Go away!” he said.

The thing stared back at him.

The longer Harry looked at it, the more it appeared to him to be a dog—but it was enormous; it was as black as the shadows that stretched from its long, shaggy legs.

The seconds lengthened; time was running out. Ministry of Magic wizards would be swooping in at any moment to arrest and expel him for underaged magic. This animal was holding Harry hostage, keeping him rooted while he should have been running for his life. Harry adjusted the grip on his wand.

“Go away!” Harry tried again. He looked down the street; it was clear, but for how long? “Go!”

The dog did not move.

“If—if you don’t go—” Then what?

For a horrible moment, Harry thought he was hallucinating.

The dog had vanished.

In its place, a figure stood blinking in the blinding light, the beam from Harry’s wand flooding a ghastly pale face. Shadows bit into the hollows of the specter’s cheeks, bones pressed against the skin of its chest, and lank, black hair hung to its elbows.

He was hideously familiar.

“You!” said Harry.

The stranger held up his hands, squinting against the brightness. “Turn out the light!” he rasped.

“Don’t move,” Harry said, gripping his wand tighter. Where had the stranger come from? Harry had seen him a number of times now on the news—he was an escaped convict. Extremely dangerous, they’d said. A muggle.

“Someone will see!” said the convict urgently.

But Harry didn’t dare turn off the light. Even a Muggle could kill a wizard if he were desperate enough.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said the stranger, slowly. “No weapon, see? You don’t need to lower your wand, just turn out the light, Harry.”

The sound of his own name made Harry jerk back in alarm.

“You know who I am?”

The convict nodded.

“You’re—you’re a wizard?”

“Yes.”

“Then—what are you doing here? You—you’re not from the Ministry, are you?”

The convict barked a laugh. “No.” But his amusement was short-lived, and he frowned suddenly. “Are you expecting someone from the Ministry?”

“I—no—”

“What’s wrong, Harry?” said the convict, lowering his hands. “Has something happened?”

“No—”

“Have you done something?” he pressed. “Are you in trouble?”

Harry’s hand shook. The light wobbled. He was in deep trouble, more trouble than he’d ever faced in his life. At any moment, the Ministry would be swarming Number 4 to discover the ballooned Aunt Marge; they would begin scouring the neighborhood for him, and once they found him, they would snap his wand and banish him from the only place he’d ever felt accepted…the only place he’d ever had friends…

“Get back,” Harry said firmly.

“Listen to me, Harry, if you don’t want them to find you, you’ve got to turn out the light.”

He was right. The Ministry could detect underaged magic, and holding the light on his wand would attract them as soon as they arrived in Little Whinging. Harry smothered the light with a muttered, “Nox!”

The sudden darkness fell upon him. He squinted, trying to keep the convict in his sight, but his eyes were too slow to adjust. He felt a whoosh of wind as he attempted to aim his wand at the stranger; then the stranger moved quickly. A sharp, skeletal grip snatched his wand arm, squeezing tightly.

“Don’t hex me,” said the convict.

“Let go of—” Harry hadn’t finished before the hand released him, but Harry had already jerked back in horror.

Up close, beneath the glow of the streetlamp, the convict was even more horrifying. Pale eyes gleamed out of dark sockets, scrutinizing Harry carefully. Matted locks of black hair draped limply down his shoulders. His robes hung from his bones, tattered and filthy. For a moment, Harry feared that the convict was really a vampire.

“Are you in trouble?” the convict croaked.

“N-no.”

“What’s wrong? I can help…if you need it…”

“Help? You look like you can hardly help yourself,” retorted Harry, leaning away.

A flash of annoyance crossed the convict’s face. “Listen, Harry,” he started. “If you need help, I’ll give it to you. Whatever it is—whatever you’ve done, we’ll figure it out.”

Harry pressed the tip of the wand to the bony chest. “Why would you help me?”

The convict’s eyes flickered to the wand tip. He answered cautiously. “Your parents asked me to look after you if anything happened to them.”

“What?” said Harry. “My parents? You knew them?”

“Knew them?” said the convict, looking surprised. “Of course I knew them. Your father was—” he swallowed hard and looked away for a moment. “He was like a brother to me. I told him I’d make sure you were cared for if he died—obviously I’ve done a rotten job so far, but I’m here now, Harry. Let me help you.”

Harry looked down the deserted street. Time was running out. Where would he go? There was London where his gold sat underground at Gringotts bank, but how could he get there with his trunk on his broomstick? He thought quickly, trying to remember all of the ways that magical people could travel. If only he knew how to Apparate, to disappear and reappear in another place, but Apparating was something only mature witches and wizards could do.

“I—I don’t need your help,” said Harry.

The convict said nothing.

“I don’t!” Harry insisted. Not from you.

“All right,” said the convict after a heavy pause. “I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want.”

“Stay back,” Harry warned.

“I won’t come any closer.” When Harry hesitated, the convict raised his brows. “Go on, then. If you’re on the run, you haven’t got time to waste. You’d better get out of here.”

“I don’t need your help,” Harry said again. Leave! he thought desperately. If the convict wasn’t going to harm him or drink his blood, then why did he remain there watching? Harry couldn’t turn his back to him, so gingerly, he shuffled backwards until his legs hit his school trunk.

Still keeping his wand trained on the convict, Harry moved around the trunk so he could open it and have a look. The lid swung open, revealing all of the belongings he had collected since he’d begun his schooling at Hogwarts. He shoved aside robes and books until he found his broomstick.

“Where to, then?” said the convict, eyeing the Nimbus 2000 with interest.

Harry didn’t answer. He was trying to imagine how he would fix the trunk to his broom. Maybe he could charm it to be featherlight. Although he couldn’t recall the charm, he could look it up in one of his spell books. A little more magic wouldn’t get him into worse trouble, would it? If he were already expelled after all…

He propped the broomstick against his trunk, still careful to keep his wand steady on the convict who was frowning deeply. Harry ignored the concerned look and rummaged for the last bit of the puzzle.

“Your father’s cloak won’t work on a broom if someone looks up,” said the convict.

Harry’s head snapped up. “What?”

“The cloak,” he said. “Works best on solid ground. Better to cast a disillusionment charm.”

The silvery, silky cloak slipped from Harry’s fingers back into the dark trunk. Mournfully, he looked at his broom. It was a stupid plan. If the convict was right, he’d be spotted long before he got to London either by a Muggle or someone from the Ministry. Once more, he gazed down the street.

“They’ll snap my wand,” Harry said numbly.

“Then let’s go,” said the convict.

Harry looked at him.

“Whatever you’ve done, it’s all right, Harry. We’ll figure it out. I won’t let them take your wand from you. Can you trust me?”

There was no other choice. He could surrender to the Ministry, let them snap his wand, severing all ties to the magical world, or he could place his trust in a stranger who looked as if he’d crawled out of a grave. Feeling resigned and hopeless, Harry returned the Nimbus 2000 to his trunk and let the lid snap shut with a finality that churned his stomach.

When he faced the convict again, straightening his spine, Harry knew that he was taking a great risk—a foolish, dangerous risk. Was it worth his life to keep his wand? Was it worth it to live on the run?

The convict opened his skeletal hand.

“Let me use your wand,” said the convict. “I’ll give it back.”

“No,” snapped Harry.

The convict smiled tightly. “I can’t do anything to help without magic. If you can’t trust me, I can’t help you.”

“Where’s your wand?”

“I don’t have one. I’ll explain everything properly once we’re away,” said the convict, waving his hand impatiently. “But I think time is running out.”

Harry heard it too. Someone was calling for him—a voice he didn’t recognize. At first, it sounded like nonsense, but as the voice drew closer, it was very clearly his name. The Ministry wizards had gone to the Dursleys and now they realized he was missing. Before he could talk himself out of it, Harry shoved his wand at the convict.

“Get us out of here!”

Immediately, the convict took hold of the wand and pointed it at Harry’s trunk. It vanished.

“I can’t Apparate the two of us and the trunk. I’ve sent it ahead of us,” said the convict at Harry’s confused look. “Take hold of my arm.”

The voices were getting closer—there were more of them now. The convict held out his arm, and Harry knew it was his last chance to turn back. He could live without his trunk; he could live without his wand. But what would life be like now that he knew he could never return to the world where he belonged?

Harry gripped the convict’s arm with both hands.

“Whatever you do, Harry, don’t let go.”

The bony arm in his grip faded away as every part of his insides seemed to press inward, drawing his eyes deep into his sockets and his tongue and teeth down into his throat. The world was black and squeezing his chest, wrenching the air from his lungs—

He gasped a mouthful of air before he pitched forward, his face plummeting into wet grass. It took a moment to realize that he was alive and heaving panicked breaths, no longer hurtling through space. His stomach clenched as two hands took him by the shoulders and peeled him off the earth.

“Wait!” Harry sputtered, shoving help away. “I think—I think I’m gonna be—”

The convict held his shoulder as Harry vomited.

When he’d finished, his eyes were streaming as he squinted at the hills surrounding them. A bright moon illuminated a largely barren countryside, peppered with pockets of trees, veins of old walls, and lonely houses in the distance. A few feet away sat Harry’s trunk, and beyond that, an old country house with a crumbling roof tiles and half of its dozen windows shattered. The hedges were overgrown, and vines had claimed most of the exterior brick. It might have been an elegant place once, but it looked as if it’d been years since someone had inhabited it.

Harry felt woozy, almost dreamlike as he began to understand what happened. He shrugged off the hand on his shoulder, suddenly feeling ill again. What had he done? The safety of Privet Drive was far gone. He’d exchanged the knowability of Little Whinging and the Ministry for the word of a stranger who had escaped from Azkaban, a criminal who now had Harry’s wand.

“Are you all right?” the convict asked. “First time Apparating…wasn’t it? It’s rough at first…Takes getting used to. Are you going to be sick again?”

Harry shook his head, pointedly looking at the unkempt grass to avoid the convict’s eyes. A voice in his head shouted at him to run to his trunk and grab his broom.

“You’re not missing any body parts, are you?”

Harry’s gaze snapped up. “What? Why?”

The convict eyed him carefully as if expecting to find a leg or ear missing. Harry noticed that the skeletal hand reached out to touch him but withdrew as if he’d thought better of it.

 “Sometimes a person can leave part of themselves behind when they Apparate, but I don’t think I’ve splinched either one of us… Have you got all of your toes?”

“Yeah, I think so,” said Harry, wiggling them in his trainers.

The last person who had taken Harry’s wand from him was the sixteen-year-old memory of Lord Voldemort; the unpleasant memory made the sight of the convict holding the holly wand unpalatable.

“Why did you bring me here?” Harry said slowly.

“It’s remote, and it’s difficult to detect magic here with the number of enchantments.” At Harry’s unsatisfied look, the convict went on. “It seemed prudent to leave Little Whinging before the Aurors were upon us. You did say you were in trouble…”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “But…what were you doing in Little Whinging in the first place? You—you weren’t watching me, were you?” Then Harry saw the awkward look pass over the man’s face.

“No, but I—er—thought I’d check in on you.”

“Who are you?”

“You can call me Sirius. Or Padfoot if you’d like. But I told you; your father was—”

Harry shook his head. “Who are you really? I saw you on the Muggle news. They said you’d escaped from prison—that you were dangerous—”

Instead of appearing outraged at the accusation, the convict’s twisted in horrified confusion as if he couldn’t believe what Harry had said.

“Wait a minute,” sputtered the convict, staring at him, his brow rumpled. “You willingly gave your wand to someone you know is an escaped convict? You knew that I was a dangerous criminal and you trusted me?”

“But you’re the one who said—”

“Do you understand how easily I could kill you now?” In the moonlight, Harry could see the blood leaving the pale face. “What if I’d been a Death Eater? What if—what if one of Voldemort’s old followers had wanted to lure you out of town? You don’t know how many of them are still out there, Harry. What were you thinking?”

He already felt stupid—he didn’t need this Sirius person telling him that he’d acted like an idiot, not when it was Sirius who convinced him to do the stupid thing.

Sirius grunted. “Well, it’s done now, and you won’t do it again. Now then,” he went on. “Tell me what happened. Why are you in trouble?”

The lurching feeling in his stomach returned. Harry recalled the image of Aunt Marge ballooning—the buttons popping off her cardigan and her eyes bulging—and grimaced. For an instant he had felt a sickening joy, a small revenge for the horrible things she’d said about his parents, but it quickly turned to horror. He’d broken the law and used magic outside of school. He was probably expelled from Hogwarts, and he was most likely going to be arrested.

“What is it, Harry?” Sirius pressed. “I promised I would help you, no matter what it is.”

“I…” Harry swallowed. “I blew up my aunt.”

Sirius stared.

“You blew up your aunt… Is she…?”

“No!” said Harry. “She’s not dead! I don’t think so, at least.” Sirius’s face was unreadable, so Harry explained. “She was talking about my parents, saying loads of stuff that wasn’t true, and I got angry, and she started to…expand…”

Sirius seemed to be waiting for the end of the story.

Harry went on, growing impatient. “Last summer, a house-elf did magic in front of some Muggles at the Dursleys’, and I got a letter that said I’d be expelled if something like that happened again.”

He was an outcast…a criminal… His two years at Hogwarts had been the last bit of happiness Harry would ever enjoy, and in a moment, it was all gone.

Then Sirius’s face contorted—it was something like a cross between a grimace and a smile. On a face so gaunt, the look was terrifying.

“Oh, Harry,” he said with a sigh. He seemed to be suppressing a bit of exasperation as though he found what Harry said to be very funny but also very stupid. “You’re not going to be expelled for a bit of accidental magic.”

“But the letter—it said any more magic in front of Muggles—”

 “Underaged wizards do accidental magic all the time,” Sirius said. “If the Ministry wanted to expel all of them, you wouldn’t have any classmates left at Hogwarts.” The smile faded a bit into weariness. “I thought you were in trouble, Harry… I wouldn’t have taken you if I’d known you’d just had a bit of a tantrum.”

“It wasn’t a tantrum!”

“Whatever it was,” said Sirius, “I promise you won’t be expelled for it.” He rubbed his face, his expression full of weary regret, and he sighed deeply before he spoke again in his ragged voice. “I shouldn’t have shown myself…and I shouldn’t have brought you here.” He looked around, shaking his head. “Listen, we’ve got to get you back to Surrey before anyone thinks I’ve kidnapped you.”

Harry took a step back. “I’m not going back there.”

“Well, you’ve got to. This was…a mistake.”

“No,” said Harry firmly. “They’ll snap my wand. I’m not going.”

“Don’t be difficult about this,” Sirius said. “I agreed to help you, didn’t I? If I thought you were in real trouble, I swear, I would keep you with me. Trust me, Harry, it’ll be worse for both of us if you don’t return soon. Go on and get your trunk.”

Harry moved to his feet, imagining the scene at Privet Drive. Would Marge still be floating around the dining room? Would Ministry employees be there to snap his wand? No matter what Sirius thought, the letter had been very clear about what would happen if more magic were detected at his relatives’ house.

“I’m not going back there,” said Harry, crossing his arms.

“Harry, do you know what everyone will think if you’re missing? If I don’t return you, they’ll think I killed you.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Sirius curtly. He flicked the wand, and the trunk that stood a few feet away drove towards them as if pulled by an invisible rope. “Better that you know nothing about me, really. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough once you return.” Sirius paused as if he wasn’t entirely convinced of his own words, but after a moment of thought, he nodded. “Yes… I’ll tell you the truth about myself and your parents and how they died, but we haven’t got time now. The Ministry must believe you’ve been in Little Whinging all evening.”

“How they died?” said Harry, dubiously. “Voldemort killed my parents. Everyone knows that.”

“Yes, but they might have lived if it hadn’t been for—” Then Sirius shook his head. “No, there’s no time for this! Take my arm.”

Harry backed away. A pained expression twisted Sirius’s mouth.

“Please, Harry,” he said. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. I promise you won’t be expelled. Hopefully, I’ll be able to explain all of this soon.”

“You’re the one who brought me here,” Harry said. “Why?”

“Because I thought you were in trouble,” said Sirius. “It was stupid, of course. I would have done anything for your father—I’d do anything for you, but now—”

“Then listen to me!” Harry insisted, his shoes scuffling backwards to creative even more space between them. “They’re going to expel me from Hogwarts! I can’t let that happen—”

“Dumbledore would never allow it, Harry,” said Sirius. “You’ve got to believe me. You’re the reason Voldemort is gone. People would—they wouldn’t stand for it if you were expelled. Don’t you see? The Ministry is already suffering the humiliation of my escape from Azkaban. If you were expelled because of petty accidental magic, the entire magical community would call for Fudge’s resignation. I know what they call you—The-Boy-Who-Lived. The Ministry won’t—can’t— expel you, do you understand? You’re too important.”

It was funny to Harry, considering he’d just run away from a place where he was deliberately told that he was nothing special—where he was a burden and a stain on Number 4. Uncle Vernon wouldn’t even sign his permission form to visit Hogsmeade, a favor that wouldn’t have caused the Dursleys any suffering but would allow Harry just a little bit of enjoyment at school. If Harry were expelled, he would have to live with his aunt and uncle for the entirety of the year until he came of age. Living on the run was better than that.

“Look,” said Harry, trying to keep his voice level. “The Ministry said that if they detected any more magic from Privet Drive, they’d expelme.The letter was really clear on that. I don’t care who you are—I don’t care if they think you’ve murdered me. If—if they think that, maybe I shouldn’t be around you anyway. But I am not going back to Little Whinging, and you—”

Harry stopped, realizing he’d nearly blurted “and you can’t make me”—it wasone of Dudley’s favorites. Harry clenched his fists and said resolutely, “I’m not going back.”

A muscle twitched in Sirius’s jaw. “Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“Don’t forget who’s got the wand here,” said Sirius.

[that-one-ostrich-friend]

Late Night Chat

sirius black x reader - late night chat

word count: 1k

summary: just a little blurb about a late night chat after exam week with non other than the sirius black

warnings: none :)

a/n: why is ben barnes so fineeeeee

     The night was still, save for the soft rustling of leaves from the trees surrounding the edge of the Black Lake. Hogwarts, nestled under a blanket of starlit skies, seemed peaceful for once—no looming threats, no hidden dangers, just the quiet hum of life that came after a long day of classes and before the chaos of whatever trouble the Marauders would surely cause next.

     Tonight, there was a different energy in the air. One that made y/n’s heart race in a way that didn’t quite feel like anxiety—more like anticipation.

     She sat by the edge of the lake, feet dangling just above the water, trying to lose herself in the moonlit ripples. She’d been coming here more often lately, especially after a particularly grueling week of exams, hoping the silence would calm her mind. 

     Sirius Black had been hovering around more often than usual, appearing when she least expected him. At first, it was always with the Marauders—James, Remus, and Peter—but slowly, over the past few weeks, he'd started showing up when the others weren’t around. And lately, he’d been staying longer.

     Y/n weren’t sure how to feel about it. Sirius Black had always been the charming, reckless prankster. He was the kind of person who could turn heads with a smile, or cause an uproar with a laugh. He was magnetic in a way that made it impossible to ignore him. And yet, when it was just the two of them, he seemed different—more focused, more... genuine.

     Tonight, she sat there, eyes on the dark waters of the lake, hoping her heartbeat wasn’t as loud as it felt. She’d promised yourself she wouldn’t let your mind wander. She wouldn’t think about how his voice sounded just a little more tender when he asked if she was okay. Or how his grin made her forget everything else when he leaned a little too close.

     But then, she heard it.

     The snap of a twig behind her.

     Before she could turn, a voice, as familiar as the sound of her own breath, called her name softly.

     "Y/n," Sirius's voice was warm and inviting, and she could feel the smile in his words, even without turning around. "You know, you’ve been here a lot lately."

     She smiled to herself. It was a little ridiculous how easily he made her feel seen, even when she didn't want to be. "You know, you’ve been lurking around me a lot lately,” she mocked, “ It’s almost like you’re stalking me."

     He laughed, the sound echoing across the empty grounds, and she turned to see him leaning casually against a nearby tree, hands in the pockets of his robes. His dark eyes twinkled in the moonlight, his hair messy and windswept.

     "You make it sound like a bad thing," Sirius said, pushing off from the tree and walking over to where she sat. "I’m just... looking out for you. Someone’s got to keep you from brooding out here all alone."

     She scoffed lightly but didn’t move to argue. "I don’t brood," she said, though she was well aware of the frown that had crossed her face when she’d first arrived at the lake.

     Sirius sat down next to her, his thigh brushing her as he gazed out at the water. There was a brief, comfortable silence, but it wasn’t awkward—not with Sirius. Not anymore.

     "You’ve been a bit quiet lately," he said, his voice quieter now, softer. "Everything okay?"

     She blinked, surprised by how perceptive he was. Sirius was known for being reckless, impulsive, sometimes a little too much of a show-off—but he wasn’t wrong. She had been quieter than usual. There were things on her mind, things she hadn’t quite figured out how to say, or maybe things she was afraid to.

     "I’m fine," she replied, her tone casual. "Just... thinking."

     "About what?" Sirius pressed, nudging her shoulder with his.

     She glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a moment. There was no judgment in his eyes—just that unwavering sense of understanding, like he knew more than he let on, but wasn’t about to push her to tell him.

     "I don’t know," she admitted, her voice almost a whisper. "Everything feels so... complicated sometimes. People, life... it just feels like things are changing too quickly, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for it."

     Sirius turned his body slightly toward her, his expression softening. "Change sucks," he agreed, his voice low and serious. "It feels like you’re just barely hanging on, but you don’t have any control over it."

     She nodded, grateful that he seemed to understand. She had always appreciated his candor—he was blunt when he needed to be, but it was never in a way that made you feel small or dismissed.

     "You know," he said after a long pause, "you don’t have to go through all of it alone."

     She turned to face him more fully, slightly startled by the sincerity in his voice. Sirius wasn’t known for his deep conversations, much less his vulnerability. She had seen glimpses of it—small cracks in the façade he built for everyone—but this... this felt different. This felt real.

     Before she could say anything, Sirius continued. "If you need someone to talk to—or even if you just need someone to sit here with you—I’m always here." His voice was steady, unwavering, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes stayed locked on hers.

     There was an unspoken understanding between them now, something that neither of them needed to name. She didn’t need to tell him her fears, her insecurities—he was offering a quiet reassurance without pressure. And it was enough.

     She smiled, a little more genuinely than before, as she leaned her shoulder against his. "I think I’d like that."

     For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They just sat there, watching the ripples in the lake, letting the night air fill their lungs. It was peaceful, but it wasn’t empty. Not anymore.

[thegoldfishkid13]

Home again Regulus Black x Fem! Reader

Warnings: A few swear words, Being James potters little sister. Mentions of death and killing. Fighting and running away.

Summary: After a fight with James you run to Regulus and he has a plan that will help you be together. But the plans dangerous, will you both make it?

Word count: 1634

This wasn’t a choice that you ever thought you would have to make. But here you are standing in the rain outside of your brother James’s house. After the heated argument you stormed out. Grabbing nothing, not even a jacket; that's something you would soon regret. You make your way down the streets of London and towards a familiar house. A house that you swore you would never go to. But here you are standing on the steppes knocking on the door.  An old man opens the door, he looks upset like you have interrupted something. 

  “Good afternoon sir, is Regulus here?” You question, your voice wavering slightly. A strong gust of wind blew and chilled you to the bone. The man nodded.

 “Wait here and I will go grab him for you.” He practically scoffs out his words. You nodded in agreement and waited outside. The man goes back inside to grab Regulus. Once he's at the door he opens it letting you in.

  “Y/n? What brings you here?” He takes a good look at you and pulls you close. He pushes some of your wet hair out of your face. “You’re drenched darling. Come on, let's get you changed.” He leads you up the large staircase and down the corridor. The place seems a lot larger than it does when you're outside. Once you make it to his room he grabs a jumper and a pair of pants for you.

 “Here to change in the bathroom. It's right there.” He points to a door on the other side of the room. You nod and walk over there and change. After emerging from the bathroom you finally take in what his room looks like. Gray walls with pictures of the two of you on one wall. Another is covered in books and other little trinkets.

 “Thank you Reggie.” Your voice is soft and sweet. He walks up to you and pulls you into his arms.

 “Why are you here darling?” He speaks, your head is placed in the crook of his neck. You can smell his cologne; cedar wood, and a hint of warm spice lingered in his neck. He spoke again. “I know you promised James and Sirius you would never come here.” His words were soft as he started to sway with you. You swayed to the beat of the record playing on the record play that sat in the corner, something you're just now releasing was there.

 “Me and James got into a fight and I left. He's angry about me not wanting to join the order. I don’t want to be separated from you.” The last of the sentence came out as a mumble. Regulus knew what you were referring to. Since his parents made him get the dark mark a year ago, James hasn’t been trusting of him. Even though he didn’t want it. James has also been wanting you to join the Order to help take down voldemort. It’s not that you don’t want to, it’s just you and Regulus won’t be able to see each other and that's not what you both want.

 “I see.” He spoke, his words were soft and he let go of you. 

 “I don’t want to be on any sides, I just wanna live.” You expressed your feelings for the first time. You tried to not speak of the topic ever. In hopes that nothing will come of it. In hopes that the stupid war would end.

 “I have an idea. It's not the best and safest but it's an option to get what we want.” He spoke and pulled you to a desk, and pulled up a chair for you to sit next to you. You see a pile of notes and pictures. 

 “Horcruxes… Voldemort has practically separated his soul and placed them into objects all hidden somewhere. If they are found and destroyed they weaken him and his power.” He says. You look over the notes and pictures. Trying to figure out where to start and how to start the process.

 “But there’s a catch.” He sighs. Your eyes meet him with a longing stare.

 “There’s always a catch that isn't there.” You sigh, eyes roaming his face. When he didn’t speak your eyebrows furrowed.

 “Yeah it seems like it… but it’s dangerous. We would have to drop off the map. Make it seem we are dead. Nobody can know. If we do this.” You nod and stand from the chair. You place a hand on his face.

 “ We should do it. Something needs to be done.” He looks at you with a shocked expression on his face. “We leave tomorrow morning. Meet me here at 5.” You nod and peck his lips. 

“I must go now before James starts a search party for me.” Regulus laughs and nods. You change back into the skirt and shirt you had been previously wearing. Regulus walked you to the door. The rain had now stopped and the sun started to peek through the clouds slightly. On your way home you stopped at a small little muggle bakery to get bread. Once you had arrived back at your’s and James’s shared place you noticed him and Sirius sitting at the kitchen table. You walked past them and up into your room. James appeared at your door.

 “Where the hell did you go?” He asked, his voice was loud and slightly gravely. You continued reaching for a book that was on the shelf above your bed.

 “I went out. Is that a problem?” You ask, trying not to give him much information on your whereabouts or who you are with.

 “Who did you go see?” His eyebrows furrowed and his voice started to raise again. You kept your cool this time. In hopes to show that you're stronger and being the bigger person. Even though you slightly instigating the fight.

 “ I’m not sure that it's any of your business now is it?” You exclaimed, sarcasm dripped from your words. This seemed to piss James off more. 

 “It is my goddamn business, as long as you live in this house everything is my business.” He spoke feeling like he had trapped you into giving up the answer. You sighed knowing he wasn’t trying to be manipulative, he just didn’t think before he had spoken.

 “Then I will move out, you won't have to be in my business then.” You spoke leaning on the wall that you were standing by. His eyes widened in shock. He didn’t want you to leave. He sighed and stalked out of your room and back down stairs. To where you presumed Sirius and maybe even Remus and Lily where. Once you knew he was gone you began to pack an enchanted bag. One that has never ending storage so you could place whatever you wanted in it. Once morning arrived you set off to see Regulus, meeting him where you said you would. When he walks up you wrap your arms around him.

 “Hi baby. Are you sure you want to do this?” He asks, knowing there's a chance one if not both of you wouldn’t make it back. But it was only a chance, nothing more or nothing less. The two of you set off hunting down horcruxes and breaking them, Voldemort grew weaker and weaker by the day. Nothing was stopping the two of you as you continued on. But when you both returned after Voldemort was killed for what you hoped was good. You noticed lots of things changed in the year you both were gone. James and Lily got married and had a baby boy named Harry. Regulus’s father had died and they had found out that Worm tail had gone to the darkside. Walking up to the door of the Potter residence hand and hand with Regulus, you both grew nervous, would they take you both back in? The two of you had practically dropped off the face of the earth not even leaving a letter.Regulus noticed your hesitation to knock on the door.

 “Don’t be nervous, if things go wrong we can leave.” He spoke trying to ease the pit of nerves that had grown in your stomach. You nodded and knocked loudly on the door. You heard heavy footsteps coming from inside. You and Regulus removed the hoods of the cloaks you had been wearing. The door swung open widely, Remus was the one who opened the door. His face was in complete shock and disbelief. His mouth was hung open slightly. He took a second to gather his composure. 

 “James! Sirius! It’s for you too.” He yelled. You heard the two mens walking towards the door. Remus left the door open but walked away wanting to give you both privacy.

 “James I’m real-” You didn’t even finish your sentence before you felt a hard slap on your face. You knew you deserved it, leaving without a note or anything. Sirius looked upset but you couldn’t hear what the brothers were saying to each other.

 “You left with no note, no call, no fucking nothing. Not a damn word about any of this came out of your mouth.” James spoke, he sounded angry but he looked more hurt.

 “You have every right to be angry. You do. I should have said something but I didn’t want to worry you.” You spoke, tears welled in your eyes, threatening to slip down your face. James pulled you into a hug.

 “You made me worried, Y/n, never do that again.” He said, his voice cracking. You nodded glad to be home.  You meet baby Harry and you and Regulus got married a year later. After having a daughter of your own. Finally, the wizarding world is at peace. For now at least…

[wolfstargazer]

10th May - Only one bed/room - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 711

Remus was out of breath as he burst into the room. Sirius followed closely behind, having barely broken a sweat but eyes darting wildly, trying to figure out if they'd been followed before closing the door and locking it with a muttered incantation.

Remus cursed his body, weakened as it was so close to the full moon. It had betrayed him, failing him when he needed it the most. It had put them both at risk in their task to wait and watch and see if the information they'd received about the Dolohov and MacNair proved to be correct.

But they had been spotted, it had been all his fault, and Remus felt shame again as he remembered the way he'd slumped against Sirius, relying on his power and his pure physicality to Apparate them out of danger and to bring them here.

It was a Muggle hotel, perhaps somewhere unfashionable in a large urban area? Perhaps London somewhere? The man behind reception had waved them through with barely a glance as Sirius had slid the notes across the counter. The man had flicked the ash from his lit cigarette into a coffee cup with nicotine stained fingers before passing the set of keys. Remus wondered how it was that Sirius knew this place...wondered when and why he'd been here before...

Perhaps once he would have asked. Or perhaps not, Remus conceeded, his curiosity always stifled by a shy awkwardness and something too much like jealously for comfort that held him back from prying.

Remus still struggled to catch his breath, leaning back, taking in the wallpaper peeling from the walls and the bed with scratchy blankets, the silence broken only by his unsteady breathing.

"I'm sorry," Remus offered, weakly, desperate for something to say.

Sirius turned from where he had been peering through the peep hole in the door, dark hair falling in front of his eyes.

"It's fine," he said, simple and short.

A moment of silence from the hallway beyond told them both that they hadn't been followed.

"Lie down," Sirius said coolly, his eyes taking in Remus levelly who was trying and failing to conceal his pain.

"I...I just need a moment."

Sirius eyebrows drew together. He was unconvinced.

"Don't try to hide it. You need to recover. This close to the full moon is always difficult..."

Sirius trailed off, and Remus felt a tightening in his stomach. Remus caught the discomfort flicker in Sirius' face, a ghost of familiarity he quickly chased away with sarcasm when he said, "You'll be no good to the Order if you keel over."

Reluctantly, Remus made his way over to the bed, kicking off his shoes before laying down. The mattress sagged badly beneath him, but he couldn't deny the relief it afforded his weary body.

A strange tension settled between them. Sirius sat down on a chair that he put by the door, throwing his jacket over the back of it, settling in to keep watch. Although uneasy, Remus felt comforted by the presence of Sirius in a way that pained him to realise. And soon enough, he had closed his eyes and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

It was some hours later when he woke, confused as to where he was. Darkness had stolen into the unfamiliar room, and Remus' eyes struggled to adjust to take in his surroundings, strange shadows cast by furniture he couldn't place.

Remus shifted and felt the weight of a body close beside him. It made him start, his heart lept into his throat, before a familiar voice said lowly, softly, "Dont worry. It's me. I just needed to...lie down."

Suddenly, Remus' senses seemed to return. The sight of the dark silhouette of Sirius in the bed beside him. The sound of his breathing. The scent of woodsmoke and spice. The warm pressure of his body, so close and yet kept so carefully apart. It was heaven to feel him beside him, and hell to be reminded of how distant they remained.

Remus could do nothing. Mere inches existed between them. He could not reply. He waited a moment, held his breath, willing for Sirius to say something further...

And in the silence that followed, Remus turned away.

[seriouslysam8]

Brumous Sneak Peek

Chapter Sixty- Six

Harry’s entire body quivered involuntarily as he walked into the wards around Hogwarts with Sirius by his side. His eyes were locked on Dumbledore’s deathly pale body floating in front of Remus’ wand, his arms limp on either side of him and his long white hair nearly touching the ground beneath him. Harry’s mind reeled with everything that happened at the Gaunt House. If obtaining every Horcrux was going to be like that, Harry wondered how they were going to manage to find and destroy them all.

Hagrid met them at the gates, a lantern illuminating his concerned face. He opened the gates without hesitating, asking Remus if he needed help. Harry only felt numb as they continued across the grounds, his body going through the motions. He couldn’t even concentrate on Remus’ and Hagrid’s conversation, their words nothing but senseless syllables vibrating in his ears. It seemed impossible that Dumbledore, out of all of them, was the one to be gravely injured.

When they entered the infirmary, McGonagall and Snape were waiting for them. Snape and Remus immediately tended to Dumbledore while McGonagall made her way to Sirius and Harry. All Harry could do was cross his arms in front of his chest and try to breathe. The adrenaline he felt coursing through his veins while obtaining the Horcrux was long gone now that they were out of danger. The weight of the situation accumulated into a hard lump in the pit of his stomach.

“What in Merlin’s name!” McGonagall exclaimed, her hand touching Harry’s arm. “Are you all right?”

Harry nodded. “It’s not my blood,” he assured her in a hushed tone.

McGonagall huffed as she turned her attention to Sirius, her hand still pressed against Harry’s arm. “Sirius,” she said, her wide eyes staring up at him.

“You know I can’t tell you anything, professor,” Sirius replied in a dull tone.

“I think given the circumstances–”

Sirius shook his head. “You know why the Order is compartmentalized,” he interrupted. “We all have our roles to play and we don’t talk to one another about those roles.”

“The Order needs to be informed that Albus has been injured!” McGonagall protested, her hand finally dropping from Harry’s arm. “Remus’ Patronus made it very clear he was in critical condition.”

Sirius sucked in a breath. “Look, we need to contain this. Nobody can know he’s injured or, or worse. This is on a need-to-know basis. You want to call in Tegan and Gawain, that’s fine. They’re probably the best ones to run the Order if Dumbledore is incapacitated for some time. But we need to create a cover story so this doesn’t reach Voldemort. If he knows about Dumbledore’s injuries, he will not hesitate to attack the castle.”

McGonagall pursed her lips to the side.

“I will help you protect Hogwarts, all right?” Sirius insisted, his hands pressing on his hips. “We will figure this out. But this needs to be kept quiet. It’s imperative. Even more, Voldemort cannot find out where we were tonight. If he does, we are fucked. More than fucked. We’re so fucking fucked that we may as well flee or count down the days until Voldemort murders us all.”

[thebestofoneshots]

WOLFSTAR X READER SERIES

Gilded Constellations | THE INTERLUDE Part 2

Summary: You meet Sirius and Regulus at a family vacation in the Caribbean, but things don't go as planned and you end up losing contact once the trip is over. Years later your family moves to England and you get accepted at Hogwarts where you finally see Sirius once again, along with all of his friends. One of them with a mysterious secret, that you'll uncover as you embark on your own Hogwarts adventure. Mostly canon-compliant. This IS a wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.

Series Masterlist | Previous episode | The first Interlude

You guys know I wanted to make another interlude, but upon lack of time, and because I don't want to have you wait another week to read the next chapter (darling @aremuslupinsimp for sure needs someone to vent about the absolute rollercoaster of emotions that it is) I've decided to make it a WEEKL-LONG EVENT!

But Lilly, What does that mean? It means you can send as many questions as you might have and I'll try to address all of them within the week. Including anything related to last week, this week's, and the next week's chapter (although I will not spoil that one).

Adding a few questions here, just as a start:

Have you always known where the story is going or have you kind of figured it out along the way? do you have the ending planned?

Hey love! I do have a base idea of where GC is going. I've had these big plot points thought out from the very beginning to the part where they all start dating. Having said that, a lot of things that happen in the story, and that are in between those points, are just me letting my imagination soar, and a lot of those chapters end up being some of my favourites.

I wanted to end the story either before they end school or before 1981, but now that I've gotten so attached to the characters, I've honestly thought of writing past that, and "fixing" some of the things that happen in canon. But who knows, that's like a whole other fic just on how much plot it would have.

SoIi can’t really remeber if the ‘prank’ that Sirius pulled on Snape had already happened in Gilded Constellations, if it hasn’t will it be happening or will it just get skipped over?

It's happened already (in 5th year). That's the reason Snape is weary about leaving Vixen in the Shack in "Bad Moon Rising". He knew she would be in danger because there was a werewolf inside. He couldn't say anything to them because of the young twisting charm Dumbledore put on him, and he's never been brave enough to stand up to the other Slytherins, so he went straight to Lily and told her Vix was in danger.

That's why Lily knew about Vixen being in danger when Sirius showed up with a fox in his hands and was livid about it.

Tu penses prévoir combien de chapitre pour GC si tu sais sinon si tu sais pas une estimation de chapitre que tu aimerais écrire pour GC ?

I'm terrible with estimations, originally it was going to be a short 5 chapter-long series. And then I wanted to end it at thirty, and then at forty. So far I've written 55 chapters, but I'm thinking of ending before chapter 70. (That's IF I don't get carried away).

Do we get to know if Sirus ever got that necklace back from the first few chapters?

Oh, the necklace is still on Vix's neck and it's going to be HUGE in the next couple of chapters. I've been building on is for a while and I'm really excited about it finally happening.

How is it going with Remus' and reader's fireworms?

They are amazing! They've implemented a whole system that helps them get fed automatically. They're probably going to ace that test.

Are we seeing more to Nina?

Definitely.

After they come back from winter break will the study group start again?

I mean, there're going to be a LOT of things happening after the Winter Break, but I assume yes. Also the reading club, the reading club is going to happen.

How long do we have to wait 'till Remus, Reader and Sirius go out?

I think I'm about one or two chapters away from writing that, but I'm a few chapters ahead. But it's waaay less than before.

Does Nina have a little crush on Reader or is it just me?

I mean, there's a reason why the ribbon she tied on her quidditch gear was enough to defend Vix from Barty's spell. And why, more than once, Nina's love has proven to be a strong protective spell over the reader.

Are we getting more lessons like some of the first chapters?

Yup, not very soon, since the next few chapters will all be happening over the winter break, but once they're back in school, certainly.

Further questions will be answered directly on asks as they come.

I'm really excited about the questions I might get, also a bit terrified about the questions I'll get after Chapter 44, but of well, the show must go on.

Love ya lots, Lils xx

Series Masterlist | First Interlude

Taglist: @rayrlupin @callmelovergirl @warcelia @ireneop @endversewinchester @moonyunebi @smuttysluttybitch @mazzymoons @drugs-for-memes @sofiacblair @vmpir3lvr @remuslupinisbae @rabluver @willgrahamisalesbi4n @thatobsessedreader  @itskailey24 @hell0-kittie @belovedmoony @blacksgarden @loving-and-dreaming @cassie-love20 @starchaser-lily @zucchini-queenie @springflwer07 @sseleniaa @cometsghost @orkwardx0 @imdoingbetternow  @sbrewer21 @remuslupinsbae @maxinehufflepuffprincess @wifiatthetrainstation @unstablereader @msblacklupin @oliversaurus @jaylienpotter @remussbitch @hermionelove @izuoyarmin @themarauderswife7 @keira-kaz2y5 @lampthemacarenagod @bugg06 @a-n-1-m-3-f-r-3-4-k @darlingeels @kissmeunicornbaobei @xluansstuff @boo8008 @angelmixer @voteforintensedreams @allons-y-molly @aremuslupinsimp @imaginexred @writingshae @nyanwyn @poetrypirate @crazyhorseforgot @saturnhas82moons @ryeyeyer @mothraantics @maqqiekwon @desikudisworld @pastelorangeskies

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Read more Marauders Fiction

[pregnant-piggy]

April

The Artist’s Muse series (one part left!!)

Remus Lupin x reader

word count: 4.1k

summary: James and Sirius try to convince you Remus is in love with you and you don’t believe them. but buried feelings are bound to explode one day and when they do...

warnings: some nice making out ;)

check out the playlist here

A shy sun was falling through the store-front window of Muses on your shoulders, warming up your body through your cardigan. You looked at the mess around you, a pair of scissors and left-over scraps of paper, a string of fairy lights, yesterday’s newspaper of the 29th open on the advertisement for Muses’ one-year anniversary tomorrow, May 1st , the remnants of Remus’ breakfast, the cardigan that you’d thrown aside. You figured you’d clean later and looked up.

“You’re wrong, Rem.”

Remus turned his head, looking down at you, and quirked an eyebrow. “Wrong?”

“Yes.” You got up from the ground, where you had been cutting flyers. “It would look better above the check-out.”

Remus let go of the banner that was still waiting on Sirius’ offer to be painted and crossed his arms over his chest. You tried very hard not to stare at his biceps in the t-shirt he was wearing. You were sure you were doing a very bad job.

“Would it now?” Remus asked and the smirk he gave you told you that you had in fact been doing a terrible job trying to hide your gaze. “And why, if you think so, didn’t you tell me before I climbed on top of this wobbly chair?”

You shrugged. “And miss out on this view? I don’t think so.”

Remus jumped down and stood in front of you, a little too close for friendly innocence. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, biting back a smile when his eyes flickered down to your lips.

“Fine,” he said, his voice so low you could feel it in your chest. “But we’re switching positions.”

He pushed the banner into your hands, leaving sparks wherever he touched your skin. You took a deep breath and turned around, heading straight for the check-out counter so Remus wouldn’t see how flushed you were.

This was how it had been going for a month now, shameless flirting, lingering stares, always being a little too close together. You were treading dangerous waters, crossing boundaries you had set for yourself, but it was so fun. You loved seeing the blush on Remus’ cheeks, loved the elevated feeling in your stomach when he let his hands linger longer than necessary, loved how despite the insecurities and fears it brought along, it felt safe because it was Remus.

That didn’t mean that it was all sunshine and blue skies, however. Because while you didn’t know where Remus was standing, you were falling hard. With each smirk, each gaze, each nickname and joke, you were falling more and more in love with him and there was no way you could stop it.

You were unsure what Remus thought of you; if he considered you as a friend and just went along for the jokes or if there really was something more to his smirk and glances. The constant doubt was tiring and on top of the already long and exhausting days you were having while preparing for the one-year party at Muses, you ended most of your days in a deep sleep as soon as your head hit the pillow.

After positioning the banner above the counter, you looked over your shoulder at Remus, who was too late to pretend he hadn’t been staring. You ignored the burst of butterflies in your belly and tilted your head to the side.

“And?”

Remus leaned back on his elbows, watching you. “You were right.”

“I told you it would look better here.”

“Sure, that too.”

You rolled your eyes at him and lowered the banner, dropping it on the floor next to the check-out. Then you turned around and pursed your lips as you looked down on the ground. Climbing on top of the counter had been fine, but you weren’t so happy to jump off it. You’d probably twist an ankle and with the party so close you didn’t want to risk it.

It turned out you didn’t need to. Within a few seconds, Remus was standing in front of you, hands wrapping around your hips. You barely had the time to hold yourself onto his shoulders before he lifted you off the counter and you were up in the air.

You tried to fight it but you couldn’t and a loud giggle slipped from your lips as Remus placed you back on the floor. Your hands slid from his shoulders to his arms and heat flushed your cheeks as you touched the arms you had been staring at all morning.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, staring at Remus’ chest before looking up into his eyes.

He gave your hips a soft squeeze. “No problem, love.”

You were sure you were melting under his sweet smile so you quickly pulled away from him and picked up the banner. “I uhh—I’ll bring this to Sirius. It’ll be… It’ll be done tomorrow morning.” You glanced over your shoulder on your way out of the store and caught Remus watching you with an expression that you couldn’t place.

“Alright,” he said, his tone strangely flat.

“Should I bring anything? Coffee? Tea?” You raised your eyebrows. “Orange juice?”

A smile broke on Remus’ face and internally you did a little dance. He shook his head. “Have you watched Notting Hill again?”

“Of course,” you said, opening the door and stepping through. Then you peeked back in and smirked. “There’s just something so sexy about a man owning a bookstore.”

- – - – -  

After Sirius had put away the banner with the promise he’d paint it as soon as he got home, he started on your coffees and asked you, “How’s it coming along?”

You groaned and dropped your face in your hands on the counter. “There is so much we have to do. No way we’ll finish in time.”

“Sure you will,” Sirius said, laughing at you over his shoulder. “If you stop flirting all the time.”

“We’re not flirting all the time,” you huffed, lifting your head.

Sirius turned around with the first coffee. He placed it in front of you but as you went to grab it he held it back. “Darling, when I look through the window there is always one of three things happening. One, you are staring at Remus—”

“I am not!”

“—Two, Remus is staring at you.”

“Sirius!”

“Or, three, you’re both staring at each other and we can feel the sexual tension all the way back in the kitchen.” Sirius looked at you intently and then pushed the coffee over. “And I’m not saying that to make fun of you. Or… maybe a little, but what I mean is that it’s obvious you like each other.” He got started on the other coffee.

You shook your head. “I appreciate you saying that but I’m sure Remus doesn’t feel the same way. It’s just fun.”

“Okay.” Sirius dropped the coffee beans he was filling the machine with back into the jar and turned around. “Listen up now. We didn’t want to get involved because it’s your life and your choices and whatever, and as much fun as it has been watching you and Remus make fools of yourselves these past months, it stops now. Remus is in love with you, darling, and it’s about time you finally realise that.”

You blinked at Sirius, opened your mouth to react, but then closed it again. You took a deep breath and said, “What?”

“Remus. Loves. You.”

“No, he doesn’t,” you quickly said. He couldn’t, could he? Could Remus, the person you’d been falling for hard and fast, your best friend, could he love you back? “No. You’re joking.”

Sirius sighed dramatically and pointed at the door that led to the kitchen. “In. Now.”

Quickly you ran into the kitchen, where you nearly collided with James. He looked up from the cookies he was decorating—you recognised Muses’ storefront on them—and frowned. “What’s going on?”

Sirius, who’d followed after you, gestured at James. “James will explain that Remus loves you and I will not let you out until you accept it.”

“But—”

Sirius lifted a hand and silenced you. “I know you have a lot to do, so you better hurry up.”

He left and you stood there in the kitchen, mouth open and head a chaos. You spun around to James. “What the hell is going on?”  

He watched you with a funny smile and gestured for the stool next to him. “You might want to sit down for this.”

- – - – -  

The walk back to Muses wasn’t nearly as long as you needed to sort everything out in your head. There was no way. Just no way.

Of course you had let the bud that was planted inside of you on New Year’s Eve grow out into a full flower of hope, but that did not mean you had actually expected it to happen. It was more of a fantasy you’d kept alive, nothing more than a what if.

But now Sirius and James had thrown the truth into your face, or at least tried to. You still weren’t sure if you believed it. Not because you thought they were messing with you, but because your head couldn’t wrap around the thought of Remus loving you.

James had tried to explain it but you’d sat through his monologue in shock, only getting half of what he told. Your mind was full of doubt. If Remus remembered the kiss on New Year’s Eve, why hadn’t he spoken to you about it? And if he had been hurt by you going on a date on Valentine’s, why had he seemed so happy for you? If he was in love with you, really loved you, why hadn’t he shown it? Why did he pull away from you, looked away, kept you at a distance?

Before you had any answers, you’d reached the door of Muses again and you took a deep breath before plastering a smile on your face. As long as you didn’t have clarity, you couldn’t show anything was off. First there was the anniversary party, and then you’d deal with the mess in your head.

You pushed the door open and were met with the familiar scent of books, the smell of home. In the past year, Muses had grown from the place you worked to a home that you loved even more than your own apartment. Stepping inside was like having a blanket thrown over your shoulders on a cold day, a hug from a loved one when you were feeling down. You adored every single corner and shelf, the books with their colourful spines, the dust collecting on the top of the bookcases because you couldn’t reach it but were too proud to ask Remus to do it, the plants on the windowsill and the check-out and the shelves and the floor. There wasn’t a thing that you didn’t love, but maybe what you loved the most was that it was your and Remus’ all alone. You had built this together. You had gone on this wicked adventure and now it was a year later and it was better than you’d ever imagined.

And there he was. Your best friend. Your companion. The person you were meant to have in your life forever.

He turned around upon hearing you enter, somewhat of a worried expression on his face, but it cleared quickly. “What took you so long?”

You swallowed, felt the heat creep up but bit it back and flashed a smile. “You know how Sirius is. He wouldn’t stop talking about his ideas for the banner. But I got a free coffee out of it, so…” You shrugged and walked over to Remus to hand him his drink. His fingers brushed yours.

“If it’s that easy, you should always be the one to get coffee,” he joked, wrapping his hand around the paper cup to feel how hot it was. Considering it had been well over fifteen minutes since Sirius had made it, you figured it was almost iced coffee now.

“It’s a gift,” you said, tearing your gaze from Remus’ hands. “You couldn’t do it.”

Remus took a drink. “Hmm,” he hummed before swallowing. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“No? So if you walked over there right now and asked for a free coffee, you’d get one?”

He looked from the coffee in his hand to Hot Stuff across the street and then to you. He grinned. “Why would I do that if I already have someone who can do that for me?”

“You’re just scared,” you huffed. “You know you can’t do it. You don’t have the gift.”

Remus’ pupils grew bigger as he looked at you. “I don’t need to. I have you.”

You took a big sip to hide your fluster.

- – - – -  

By the time you closed the door of Muses it was dark outside. Everything was as good as done for tomorrow. You had reorganised the space so more people could fit inside, set the table for the caterers—James and Sirius—and box with the last-minute short stories that Remus had written stood in the corner, waiting to be shared with your guests. Tomorrow morning you only had to set everything outside and you’d be ready for the party.

You watched Remus as he locked the door, appreciating the golden shine of his curls in the streetlight. As if everything wasn’t stressful enough, you hadn’t been able to shake Sirius’ and James’ words. Yes, being around Remus did not go without a smile or a stare or a joke, but could he really be in love with you? He didn’t seem as plagued by the butterflies as you did.

“Ready?” Remus asked, holding out his hand to you.

You took his hand and as you did said butterflies began to flutter lively. Internally you sighed; whether Remus was in love with you or not, it was impossible that he had not noticed how you felt about him. And if he, according to James, was in love with you too, why had he never mentioned anything?

It wasn’t hard to draw the conclusion. James and Sirius were wrong; Remus didn’t love you. The flirting was all just fun to him and he had never said anything about your obvious crush because it was too awkward.

Even though you knew, had always known, that falling in love with your best friend was the worst thing you could do, the realisation hit your stomach like someone kicking you.

“Are you alright, love?”

You looked up at Remus, felt his hand still in yours. “I’m fine.”

His eyes scrunched together so slightly that you wouldn’t have seen it if you hadn’t been so close to him and you knew he didn’t believe you. Of course he didn’t—he was the one and only person in your life who could always tell when you were lying.

“Because you’ve been kind of off all day,” he went on, giving your hand a little squeeze. “What’s going on in your brilliant mind?”

You gave a flustered huff. “Nothing much. Just… thinking about tomorrow.”

If you hadn’t known better, you would have said the expression that crossed Remus’ features was one of disappointment, like he had expected a different answer. “Okay,” he said slowly, examining your face a little longer before smiling at you. “Let’s get you home then.”

Remus walked you home and while you appreciated the company, you felt your heart break a little more each time he looked at you, each time he called you “love”, each time his hand moved in yours but never let go. Yet you also knew that there was no one else whose company you could have endured at this moment. Even when he was the cause of your heartbreak, Remus was still your best friend and he knew exactly what to do to cheer you up and make you laugh.

When you reached your front door, you felt strangely light and delicate, like you were a ball of glass dangling from a thin thread, not yet broken but close to falling and shattering on the ground. You didn’t want Remus to go yet, afraid that you would fall apart as soon as you were alone, so when you fished your key from your bag, you looked up and said, “Come up with me. I’ve finished that book you lent me.”

If there was any hesitation in his mind, he was good at hiding it, because there was only a smile on his face as he watched you unlock the door and followed you inside.

By the time you’d reached the third floor of your building, you had convinced yourself that inviting him up was the worst decision you had ever made, but it was too late to go back now. You stepped inside your apartment, said something about the book being in your bedroom, and went there without looking at Remus.

But your apartment wasn’t so big that going to another room meant you couldn’t communicate with each other anymore.

“What did you think of it?” Remus asked. “The book?”

In your bedroom, you stood with the paperback in your hands, staring at the cover, feeling all sorts of emotions swirling inside of you. You were sure you were going to be sick.

“It’s—I thought it was alright. Bit strange. Not a big fan of the ending.”

Remus’ deep laugh echoed through your apartment and you tightened your grip on the book. You couldn’t do this. He needed to leave so you could freak out on your own.

“I thought you’d say that,” Remus’ voice went on, unbothered. “I never expected you to love it, but I thought maybe you would appreciate the backward character development. I know you love villains.”

The chuckle that fell from your lips was so dry that it hurt your throat. He knew what you loved. In books, for breakfast, when listening to music. He knew what season you loved the most, what film, which jumper, which flower. He knew everything, but did he also know who you loved?

“Love?” His voice was getting closer and you realised you hadn’t answered. “Is everything okay?” Remus appeared in the doorway with a worried look on his face.

You looked from the book in your hands at him and back at the book. You held it out.  

“Here. You are right. I liked that part.”

He took the book and you quickly turned away, pretending to be busy with something on your dresser. Your hands shook as you straightened the stack of magazines on top.

“y/n…”

“I said I’m fine.”

“Except you’re obviously not. What’s wrong?”

You spun around and were met with Remus’ golden eyes suddenly so close you could count the darker specks in them. He reached for you and cupped your jaw with his hand, thumb caressing your skin softly.

“Tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

You thought you saw real concern in his eyes, but you weren’t sure you could trust your own brain anymore. It’s what’d gotten you into this mess in the first place. You wanted to turn off you thinking for a moment, tune down the static that never silenced.

But by shutting off you logic, your body came alive. Fire spread from Remus’ hand all over your skin, gathering in your lower stomach. There was that pull, the urge to be closer, the tether between your bodies pulling you together. The air around you grew electric and even if you had wanted to, there was no more hiding it for you.

You wanted to give in, to throw all caution into the wind, and see where it’d get you. You wanted to give your body what it had been craving for all this time. You were tired, so tired, from trying to hold everything back. With every word, every gaze and touch it was harder and harder to keep your walls up, when the life was bursting behind them.

So what was the point? You were bound to break anyway.

Remus’ hand was still on your jaw, his thumb stilling when you leaned into his touch. He sucked in his breath and stared at you with wide eyes.

Maybe his expression should have rung the alarm bells in your mind, but there was only a soft sizzling in your ears as you stared at each other. It was everything of New Year’s Eve amplified threefold.

It could have been a minute. It could have been an hour. You could have been staring into Remus’ eyes all night, you weren’t sure. All you knew was that your body unravelled when he breathed out and closed the space between you.

Last time you’d kissed Remus it had been noisy. There had been loud cheering in your mind, a thousand thoughts and feelings bouncing off the walls. You hadn’t really known what you were doing until you’d pulled away.

But now everything was silent and you only thought one thing; Remus.

It was him. Always would be. Even if everything between you two fell apart, even if he never wanted to see you again, it would be him. He was your person. Now and forever.

Remus’ lips were soft but determined, moving against yours in a way you felt in the furthest vein of your body. He tasted like coffee and vanilla and every memory you shared together. His hand on your cheek had slipped to bury his fingers in your hair and his other hand was in the small of your back, pushing you flush against him.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer even if it wasn’t possible anymore. You didn’t think, your body moved instinctively, like it had always been made for this.

When you pulled apart, Remus took a small step back, hands never leaving your body. He stared at you in shock, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, lips parted. He was breathing heavily, chest rising and falling. You were sure that your expression was similar.

For a long second you stared at each other, but your body ached for more and you were in no state to deny it.

“Remus—” you started and he was kissing you again.

His hands travelled to the back of your thighs and he lifted you up on the dresser. “Tell me,” he said hoarsely against your lips. “If you want me to stop, tell me.” He caught your lips in another kiss, hands all over your body. “Because I don’t think I can stop myself.”

You clasped your hands in his shirt and shook your head. “Don’t stop.”

His lips moved, wandering down your jaw, your throat, to the crook between your neck and shoulder. His teeth brushed your skin and you couldn’t help the needy shiver that ran down your spine.

“One word,” he breathed against your skin. “One word and I’ll stop.”

You pulled on his curls while his mouth worked wonders and closed your eyes. You didn’t even realise you’d given no answer, until Remus pulled back.

“Love?”

You opened your eyes. His pupils were wide. You nodded.

“Don’t stop. Please, Rem.”

He groaned so deeply you felt it in your chest. “That name,” he muttered, kissing you so hard you had to hold onto him to not lose your balance.

His hands gathered the fabric of your shirt and he pulled it over your head. His eyes darkened as he looked at you, shaking his head as if in disbelief. “You have no idea,” he said, following each word with a kiss, “how long I’ve wanted to do this.”

You threw your head back, giving him space as he travelled lower. “I know,” you sighed. “I haven’t stop wanting you since New Year’s.”

“No,” he thrummed against your skin. He pulled your head back by your chin and brushed his lips over yours before deepening. “Longer.”

His shirt came off and you took your time exploring his chest, remembering every line and curve until you were sure you could sculpt it from memory. He was gorgeous, fitting to your hands like he was made for you. The invisible string holding you together had wrapped around your bodies, tying you to one another, never to let go.

You let yourself drift away in the heat, tearing the defences down one layer at the time until there was nothing separating the two of you anymore. He was all over you like a starved man and his words rung in your head as you built and came apart together in the dark of the night, getting familiar with all the parts you had never known before, realising that even after all these years there was so much you could learn about him, so much you were dying to get to know.

No. Longer.

- - - - - - - - - 

series taglist:   @fluffybunnyu​​  @kissmeunicornbaobei​​ @ell0ra-br3kk3r​​ @diorgirl444​​ @fanfangying1304​​ @fanboyluvr​ @ishanispoems​​​​

hp taglist: @kingalrdy​ ​@missswriter​​ @awritingtree​​ @ananad1​​ @secretsthathauntus​ ​@izzyyy-1​​@nyotamalfoy​ ​@xxinvisiblexx​​ @idli-dosa​​ @lacunaanonymoused​​ @kitkatkl​​ @d22malfoys​​

marauders taglist: @tomshollandz​​​ @fific7​​​ @cheoco​ ​​@natashxromanovf​ ​​@springflwer07​​​@marauderssimpcuzwhytfnot​​​

MASTERLIST    

[lulublack90]

Prompt 19 - Dementor

@wolfstarmicrofic September 19, word count 850

Previous part First Wolfstar part

He tumbled out of the fireplace into the tiny flat that Peter called home. A quick glance told him Peter wasn’t in the room with him, but he could hear the shower running in the bathroom. 

The flat was basically just one room with a miniscule bathroom attached. In the corner was a kitchenette, a sofa butted up against the counter with the fireplace before it and taking up most of the room was Peter’s huge four-poster bed. Much like the ones they had a Hogwarts but built for an actual adult. Sirius decided to have a bit of fun. 

He jumped on the bed just as he heard the shower being turned off and pulled the curtains, too. Peter was so unobservant he’d never notice. Sirius was careful to leave them open a crack so he could watch for the opportune moment. He crouched ready to leap out at his friend. The bathroom door opened, and an ear-splitting growl filled his head.

He blinked and looked behind him, but there was nothing there. He peeked between the hangings again and the growl sounded again, but this time he understood it. It was a warning. Danger. 

Peter turned towards his wardrobe and that's when Sirius saw it. The dirty stain of ink that the death eaters were so proud of showing off. There, on Peter’s left forearm was the dark mark.

Sirius couldn’t believe his eyes. Peter. Little Peter. His friend since they were eleven. Peter, one of his best friends. Wormtail. Peter was in league with Voldemort. Sirius felt a wave of grief crash into him. He needed to get out of there. Peter couldn’t find him there.

His first instinct was to tackle Peter to the floor and call the Order in and a dementor and get him carted off to Azkaban, but he was still in hiding. If he made himself known, it would put their whole plan in jeopardy. The pack. Regulus. Luckily, the decision was taken out of his hands.  

Peter gasped and Sirius thought he was done for. But Peter's hand moved to the tattoo and held it as though it had hurt him. 

“Brilliant, perfect timing,” Peter grumbled as he quickly changed and rushed out of the door, leaving Sirius alone in his flat.

Sirius fell back onto his rump and shook. He was in shock. He wasted a few minutes reeling from what he’d discovered before he got the hell out of there. He cast a disillusionment charm over himself and snuck out before apparating away. 

He apparated to three different places, in case he was followed. He had no idea who could be watching Peter’s flat, before returning to the camp, white-faced and on the verge of tears. 

He found Remus and threw himself into his boyfriend's arms. 

“Sirius, what happened? Did Orion—” Sirius shook his head. 

“No, Father says he’s going to try and figure out a way to get Voldemort out in the open. It’s- it’s something else. Where’s James?” His voice had gone all croaky. 

“Where do you think?” Remus rolled his eyes at the thought. “Sirius, you’re shaking. You need to sit down,” Remus said more kindly. Remus settled himself back on the ground and pulled Sirius into his lap, gently stroking his back and holding his clasped hands as Sirius calmed himself down enough to take the mirror out of his pocket and call James. 

When James finally got his own mirror out and answered Sirius, Sirius was seconds away from going to Potter Manor himself. 

“Finally,” He snarled. “You need to get here straight away, it’s urgent, and cannot wait,” He then hung up and nuzzled into Remus, using his familiar scent to calm him. Ten minutes later, James turned up with a disgruntled Regulus trailing behind him. 

“Between you and that damn elf, James and I never have a moment to ourselves,” Regulus grumbled at his brother. 

“Sorry, Reggie, but this is important. Marauder important,” He said to the other two members of their schoolboy gang. 

“What is it, Padfoot?” Remus asked him, tensing beneath him. Sirius swallowed loudly. 

“It’s Peter,” he began, pausing to find the words he needed and not wanting to say them. “Mother came back suddenly and called Rorbey to her, so I had to Floo out of the house and the only place I could think that would be safe was Peter’s. He was in the shower when I got there, so of course I was going to prank him,” Remus and James nodded along, everything making sense so far. “I hid in his bed, behind the curtains and waited. He came out and when he turned,” He shook his head, tears dripping from his eyes. “When he turned I saw something on his arm,” He stopped again. This was so hard. 

“What was it, Padfoot?” James asked, his voice more serious than Sirius had ever heard it. Sirius looked up at him, their eyes locking as tears continued to stream down his face.

“The dark mark,” James, Remus and Regulus froze in disbelief, before all hell broke loose.   

Next part

[jaylienpotter]

Runaway

"Coming!" Incessant knocking vibrated the whole Godric's Hollow. Fleamont was still at work and Euphemia was far more patient than that. "Coming!" James ran down the stairs, wand in hand. They were dangerous times. He opened the door and pointed the wand at whoever was outside, only to find a somewhat familiar face. "Black?"

"Can I please come in? I don't know where else to go..." Her face was dripping with tears. Her black hair chopped to her jawline. White dress dirty and ripped in some places.

"Yes, of course!" He took her in and closed the door. "Sirius! Your sister is here!" The older brother nearly flew downstairs, both worried and glad to see Hydra.

"Bloody hell, are you okay?!" Given no time to answer, baby Black was squeezed in a hug.

"I'm so sorry Sirius... I should have listened to you... I shouldn't have stayed... You were right, they're evil. I just really wanted to be a good daughter, I really did..."

"What happened??"

"They were marrying me off to Amycus Carrow... I can't do this, Sirius... He's so odd and mean and..."

"It's okay, you don't have to. You ran off from the wedding?" Hydra nodded. "What happened to your hair?"

"I..." She looked at James unsurely but nothing mattered anymore. "I cut it. I cut it because I don't want to be like this anymore. I- I don't want to be their daughter nor- nor your sister, I... I don't want to be a girl..."

Sirius hugged his baby brother through his sobs "Hey, it's okay... It's okay. You could have told me."

"I was scared... And- I didn't want mother and father to find out..."

"Fuck them. They don't matter anymore. You're safe. James, do you think she- he can stay here?" The boy in the dress smiled at the masculine pronoun, feeling slightly better now that he knew he had someone supportive.

"Yeah, of course! You can come to my room or you two share. We'll take care of the logistics later. Black, did you bring anything with you?" He shook his head.

"Just my wand." Potter nodded and started going upstairs.

"I'll see what I can get you. Make yourself at home." After he was out of sight, the newly addition to the house turned to his brother sadly.

"I'm sorry Sirius..."

"It's okay, you don't have to apologise. You were brainwashed. I'm sorry I didn't get you out of there..."

"I would've stayed. I wanted them to be proud of me but no matter what I did I was just a bloody prize to be handed over... Siri I... I have the mark..." He extended his arm painfully. He didn't want to upset his brother. But he wouldn't be able to hide it, either.

"What matters is that you're safe now. And you're not on their side anymore. Focus on what's important. Like getting a new haircut. You were not born to be a hairdresser." That had the wanted effect, a laugh. He probably hadn't smiled in a long time. Sirius always made everything better.

"I missed you."

"Missed you too. Dork. So, do you have a new name?"

"Oh. I... I don't know. I didn't think about it. With the denial and war and wedding and running away... But I don't like Hydra."

"When James gets you clothes, take a warm bath and you can think about that, yeah? No hurries."

"Thank you... I-" He bit his lip. Forbidden words, these were. "I love you."

"I love you too." The comfortable and intimate hug was interrupted by the sound of stair steps.

"Oh- sorry uh... I have clothes for you. They'll probably be too big on you, I did try to find things that don't really fit me anymore. I left them on your bed. We'll probably go shopping tomorrow."

"Thanks. Sorry for coming uninvited..."

"Well, we did invite you a few years ago. It's not like it had an expiration date so technically you're not uninvited."

"Thanks Potter."

"You can call me James. What should I call you?" Baby Black was still uncomfortable in this strange house so his brother jumped in.

"He's still deciding." James nodded.

"Alright, let me know when you do." Sensing they wanted privacy, Prongs went back upstairs, figuring Padfoot would show the house around.

"Shower?"

After being shown his new bedroom and how the bathtub worked, he took a much needed long bath. He tried focusing on his breathing, going underwater sometimes. After getting dry and clothed (he looked somewhat... muggle), he stared at the mirror.

"I really do need a haircut..." An unknown voice was heard from downstairs. A woman. Probably Mrs. Potter. He carefully went to the living room, where the three of them sat.

"Oh, hello! I'm Euphemia. You can call me Effie." He smiled politely and nodded. "My husband Fleamont should be here in an hour. Don't be afraid to ask us for anything, alright? This is your home now."

"Thank you, Euphemia. I really appreciate you letting me stay."

"Of course. Sirius is family so by extension, you are too. Are you hungry, dear?"

"A little..." Effie got on her feet and walked to the kitchen.

"Any food allergies? Things you don't like to eat?" She shouted from the kitchen, sounds of cupboards being opened.

"He's allergic to peanuts!" The youngest looked at Sirius, wide eyed. It wouldn't take Effie long to realise he was a female.

"What? Oh, we told her. She's cool with these things. Said she knew already when I told her Remus and I started dating.

"Are you, still?"

"Yup! He likes books a lot too, you know? Reads everything. You got that in common. Do you still play chess?" He hummed in affirmation and his brother kept talking (like the mouthful he always was, idiot). "Pete is amazing at chess. Bloody brilliant. Moony is good too but no one beats Pettigrew."

"Moony?"

"Oh! Yeah, that's Remus's nickname. We all have one. I'm Padfoot, James is Prongs, Remus is Moony and Peter is Wormtail."

"Why?" Those were quite strange, especially if the person didn't know the context.

"Oh uh..." Sirius and James exchanged glances.

"It's based on our patronuses." Potter spoke first. The pause was a bit suspicious but he couldn't afford to care. Miss Potter came back from the kitchen with a plate of cookies.

"Do you like cinnamon, dear?"

"I love it!"

"Here, have some cookies. I will prepare dinner in a few minutes so that it's ready by the time Monty gets home. Do you like spices? I use them a lot in my culinary. But I can make something softer for you."

"It's okay, I'll try. These cookies are really good!"

"Thank you! James and I made them."

A while later, Mr. Potter got home, introducing himself as Fleamont "but you can call me Monty". They were a lovely couple. Actually looked like they were in love, nothing like his and Sirius's parents.

At the table they had a completely different dynamic from the Blacks. They chatted cheerfully, laughed, joked, rested their elbows on the table... They would be seen as improper, indecent, and bad-mannered. But they were just happier. It was most noticible in Sirius, the only one Black had a reference to. He looked so much healthier there. All the resentment he had for his older brother for running away vanished. He had made the right choice.

"How do you find the food, sweetheart?" He was having a bit of a hard time, not used to this kind of flavours.

"Mhm, it's good."

"No need to lie, it's okay you don't like it. I made some plain rice and chicken without the sauce."

"Sorry, I don't want to be an inconvenience. I can eat it, I'm just not used to it." She got up and took his plate.

"Nonsense. I don't want you getting sick. I'll be right back with your food."

"Thank you..." She was absolutely lovely. A late mother, by her looks. Both of James's parents looked older than most. But they weren't by any means ugly. Neither was their son. The Potters had good genes, apparently.

When they were all nearly done with their dinner, the new house member made an announcement.

"Uhm... I think I've chosen what name I want to use." He had everyone's full attention. Felt pressured but pushed it down. "I'm thinking of Regulus."

"I like it." Monty agreed, tone casual.

"Me too." James smiled encouragingly. Regulus understood now why his brother liked him so much.

"Regulus, okay. What nicknames can I make out of it?" He rolled his eyes. Sirius couldn't be stopped. "Regul... no. Reg, yeah that's a good one. Reggie... Reggie!"

"Sure."

"Is it a star?" Effie's dark eyes were so warm. Opposite to Walburga's piercing cold gaze.

"Yes, from the Leo Constellation."

"Very well. Welcome home, Regulus."

[myriadparacosm]

SMALL DROP OF Ambrosia (Chap.6 of Black Beats Black - Hanahaki)

Just a little glimpse of a short scene (:

“Sometimes I wish he had killed me.”

Sirius blinked, shifting ever so slightly even when their noses are already close to smooch. Remus wanted to gently bite it, pinch it or pet it up to the bridge before kissing, but he stayed put. He loved the proximity and he kept his eyes on his canopy. Sharing a bed was starting to be tricky as they grew up but it brought the chance to stay close, in an almost embrace, where their skins meet and their breaths play together in the quiet night.

“I don’t,” he simply replied.

They always had muffliato spells when they joined one or the other in a bed, simply to talk or bask in their presence. Sirius had always been fond of touch but he only acted on it after the winter break of their first year; it started with James then he grew confident to try his luck around Remus and Peter. They never did much outside from just laying beside each other, sometimes they hug when one can’t calm down and they might have fallen asleep once or twice like that. Remus hoped it would be one of these moments again but he kept his body still.

He roughly cleared his throat, blinking in the dark and breathing in the slight smell of ink and fresh honey that followed Sirius. His arm itched and thrumed menacingly, especially where the scar of the bite had sunken under new ones.

“I wouldn’t be a monster.”

“You would be dead,” Sirius pointed out and swallowed, echoing unconsciously into Remus because their whole bodies are weld and warm. “You are not a monster Moony. This bastard is. But you’re better.”

“You don’t understand,” he argued.

The first time Remus had shifted, he woke up in a pool of blood without real conscience of what is real. He figured that he died and a large part had wished so behind his nebulous eyes. The one side that might have hoped to live had been torned off from his body, leaving a false arm in its stead - mangled and gnarled into a gross piece of flesh.

Greyback’s bite disappeared under it but it still slithered to grab Remus by his throat. His whole arm is a mess of scars despite the intense healing his father tried, giving him back his arms but not his will. This spot where the bite was is always the focus of Moony on very bad nights before attacking somewhere else.

“Then, I would die too.”

“What?”

His eyes turned blurry at his hasty glance, finally taking in the sight of Sirius tucked right against him. Dangerously close on his single pillow and gripping all his thoughts with a grin. Two little moons stared at Remus, glimmering and so silver it’s uneasy but he would drink it in. There was no cold living under thick black lashes. He had always hated the moon after getting bitten except for these two small ones that smile, laugh and whine like pure magic.

“I wouldn’t want to live if you didn’t. I won't be happy.”

His words were clear. So simple that Remus got his breath shaken and trembling for a minute. Sirius’ lips fell shut in a crooked manner, almost shy and yet bold, calling him to challenge - just I dare you.

“You would,” Remus replied, ignoring his laboring heart and the gasps under his skin where the beast crawls. “Not much would change if I wasn't here. You wouldn’t even know that I’m not here.”

“I would,” he argued without any argument.

“You would have never heard of me-”

“I would still miss you,” Sirius cut and this time their nose kissed. “Moony, I would always know that something is missing. Even if I don’t meet you at your glorious scrawny eleven years old or years later, decades, centuries. I will know. You are not here and I won't be happy until you are. It doesn't feel right.”

Remus swallowed the incessant desire to wolf Sirius. “You wouldn’t know,” he weakly said as their breaths restarted together.

Sirius didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile. His lips curled in a trembling way and he blinked with a mist. One of his feet slightly brushed Remus’ ankle as his eyes fell shut, head tucked against his.

“I will always wait and look for you. Even in another universe, Remus.”

They are still in the same universe, less than a year later, but strangers. Remus thinks that he still knows Sirius. He hopes so, but he doesn't quite know.

This chapter is already 30 pages long and I'm not even half-done (: (help)

(I'm looking for a beta-reader for this story, and maybe others, if someone enjoyed this short passage)

[timeforbedwolfstar]

Finding Home - Chapter 7

After the Hogwarts break-in, the weather worsened with every passing day. Some days the wind was so strong that I didn’t leave the den, even to hunt. The gale pounded against our fur. Sirius spent most days as a dog, digging his claws into the ground to stay alive. 

The storm continued into the nights, and with each morning, it worsened. On one of the worst days, Sirius ventured out into the forest. Not having anything better to do, and being so hungry, I followed. 

We snuck around the edge of Hogwarts’ grounds, the sight being so familiar I had stopped noticing its beauty. Sirius led me to a long, oval stretch of grass. We climbed a set of stairs, all the way to the top. Looking out behind me, I could see our camp. Flashes of silver were visible through the trees. 

I turned back to Sirius as people, young people, began to pour into the stadium. They were all dressed in long black robes, some wearing a green-and-gold emblem on their chest, others carrying blue-and-bronze, still others yellow-and-black, and still others green-and-silver. I was reminded of charming the Slytherins’ uniforms see-through, and shook myself mentally. Where had that come from? It wasn’t from my life with Remus. 

I was reminded of pulling the sled, which brought me back to the question of purpose. With Remus, it had been clear. Take the lead, and pull him out of the dark world he’d sunk into. But maybe that wasn’t my purpose. I had loved him, yes, but it had been a general sort of love, not a brotherly one. 

Not like how I loved Sirius. 

The game progressed in the rain, and I found myself barking with joy. Sirius sunk down in the seat, hiding from view, but he needn’t have worried. The storm was so loud no one, not even the children in front of me, could hear us. 

A fork of lightning split the air, and as the red-clad Gryffindor Seeker flew past, I knew he’d seen us. His mind seemed to stop, and he almost flew into the stands before he jerked away, and flew back toward the center of the pitch. I wagged my tail, barking with joy. That was Harry, a voice in my head said. Harry Potter. 

Sirius whined, and started to slink back away from the game. Too dangerous, he seemed to be telling me. We’ve done what we came here to do. 

I followed him. And the world started to slow … the wind was forgetting to roar, and the crowd’s laughter and excitement were fading. What was happening? 

Sirius was gone, and I couldn’t follow his scent. I snuck under the benches, sheltering from the rain and the people. The cold was bone-deep and piercing. A long, lone cry was echoing around my head. A flash of green. Hera vanishing around the corner, a single bang. Cedar smelling of death. And a single, high, cold laugh. Murder. Losing Thor. Echo’s cries of grief. Geralt and Loki’s white faces turning glassy and dim. The fading warmth, coming for me… taking me away from the only home I’d ever known. Away from Remus. 

And I saw Remus’ face, his bright amber eyes shining. Through the slats in the wood, I saw a vague figure standing, shooting a silver bird from his stick, smelling like fresh spring grass in the Yard. The rainstorm’s sound returned. 

The stadium was filled with kids, pushing each other, trying to escape. I stood stock-still. I had no chance of escaping, not with this many kids around. It was too dangerous. 

I waited until no one was around to spot me, then left the shelter. The rain pelted my fur, piercing my skin. I stepped back. I’d wait until the storm was over, then find Sirius. 

When morning light shone on the horizon, the gale was gone. I ventured out from my hiding place, keeping low as Sirius had taught me. 

I left the Quidditch stadium and headed for the camp. Sirius was there, in dog form, scarfing down a rabbit. He cast me a glance, then left the rest of the rabbit for me. 

I devoured the scraps, relieved to know that prey was returning to the area. We were in for a long, hard winter. 

The snow fell the next day, obscuring our view and devouring the scent markers next to the wolf pack’s territory. The wolves were on us in seconds. 

“Stop,” one of them snarled, his voice low and menacing. Sirius stepped forward, surprising me. 

“We aren’t doing anything wrong,” he said, speaking in the wolves’ tongue. 

“You’re trespassing,” the male wolf said, raising his tail. “The border is behind you.” 

“We didn’t realize,” Sirius whined, lowering his body to the ground. “The snow covered it.” 

The wolf cast us a disapproving glare. Waving his tail to his packmates, he turned away. The other wolves, four of them, circled us, forcing us to follow him. 

“Where are you taking us?” Sirius whined, but the silver wolves didn’t answer. 

The five wolves herded us to a clearing, where many more wolves stepped from shadows. They barked and howled, circling and yipping. All of them had the same silver coat in various shades. 

The male wolf who’d led us here leaped on top of a huge boulder and howled. The pack circled under him at once, baying. 

“Brothers and sisters,” he cried, “the wolf star has brought us an old friend. We welcome Padfoot, and a new life. A new start.” 

The wolves bayed my new name — Amarok — to the sky. The wolf on the rock jumped down and padded to my side, holding my gaze easily. “Amarok,” he barked, “welcome to the wolves.”

[moonybemine]

WHO WANNA BE BESTIES‼️ i need someone to giggle over hp with. you HAVE to be a jkr hater tho bc i hate terfs and am agender(im just vibin tho all gendered terms i use by vibe alone)

MINORS DNI

i have some Opinions on a lot of things about hp and i have some fluctuating emotions on certain characters. i genuinely treat every hp character like barbies that i play with and put into Shenanigans and Situations.

i will reading bashing fics especially albus ones i hate the things he did but i on occasion have been known to enjoy a good albus fic including ones where he's less "we have to kill voldy!!" and more "you (platonically or romantically)Love someone, dont you Tom?" like that spongebob meme. i do not like sirius or remus bashing, it's always overly harsh and vilifies a man locked away in the harshest prison who's mental faculties have been horribly abused, and while The Prank was an incredibly stupid attempt of a prank due to the danger it put severus in and also remus i ultimately believe it would've never happened in the first place if albus and minerva properly chastised the marauders earlier for their treatment of snape. we also don't know when this happened in the timeline of the marauders, was it before or after snape and lily's falling out. in remus' case he's a man who's been treated as a monster his whole life who was allowed into hogwarts by albus who then used this BOY'S gratitude to make him go into enemy territory and spy on and try to recruit people to the other side of the war. not to mention that albus groomed them all to fight the boy he FAILED(ive got so many opinions on tom and albus) and then when remus who support network was either dead or imprisoned he was told he couldn't raise harry and was told to not contact him. albus did all he fucking could to make harry miserable and pliable so that he'd sacrifice himself to end a war like a pig to slaughter. ur telling me Great Albus Dumbledore defeater of grindelwald couldnt find a solution to the horcrux besides having him walk to his death not to mention that he could've probably figured out horcruxes decades earlier and tried collecting them and probably would've succeeded! also i hate that the whole marauders generation is completely wiped out jkr u nasty bitch!

my ultimate fav ships are nottpott and wolfstar. ive BEEN a wolfstar lover since i was literally a child. nottpott entered my life last year and proceeded to ruin me on drarry(and pretty much every other ship involving harry and someone else or theo and someone else) i used to hate dramione bc i was apart of a toxic forum back in the day but i have grown to enjoy it bc it usually goes hand in hand with nottpott. i am forever a fremione and a pansmione gurlie tho. i love a lot of marauders ships as well jegulus/jily/jegulily/wolfstar/marylily/dorlene/pandalily/rosekiller/etc

i will mention i have dipped my toe into tomarry. i have enjoyed quite a few fics with this pairing and while i have enjoyed mostly ones where they are both teens, i do not like or support ones where its oldie voldie and literal child harry. its a grey area with somethings with them because of a multitude of factors and it shifts from a fic to fic basis. im not one to judge overly harsh over liking ships but i will judge in cases of straight up pedophilia but it will mostly result in a block because im not a child that starts fights on the internet anymore. i also do not support bestiality or incest and i'm specifying these things in particular due to a intimate relationship with the harry potter ao3 tag i know what freaks and weirdos exist there. literally the only fuckin fandom thats got a UNIQUE BESTIALITY tag

anyways msg me if ur interested <3