#the best harry era

[somecluelessidiot]

Remus: Keep an eye on James today. He's going to say something stupid to Regulus and get punched.

Sirius: Sure, I'd love to see James get punched.

Remus: Try again.

Sirius: I... will stop James from getting punched.

Remus: There you go.

[propussyslayer]

sirius: so what do you do for a living

remus: i hunt and kill zombies

sirius: the fuck no you don't

remus: have you ever seen one?

sirius: no?

remus: then you are fucking welcome

[toorumlk]

i just like drawing them being best friends

[yourlocalcamerarole]

Prince Hair Harry 💗

[ultravioletbrit]

“hair” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 302 words

The messy, unruly, dark, crazy curls on top of his head are very much a signature of James’ overall appearance. On anyone else, it would just look like unkempt bedhead, but somehow James makes it work. Even after running his hands through them countless times a day, those waves always seem to fall in the most imperfectly, perfect way.

Regulus often threatens James that he can, and will, tame those curls. He could very easily give James a hair care routine that would have those wild curls turned into something sleek and smooth that could almost rivals Regulus’ own curls. Almost.

Honestly, it wouldn’t even be that hard. Right now, James’ after-shower ‘hair care routine’ consists of vigorously rubbing a towel over his head, shaking the excess water off, then letting his hair air dry.

All Regulus would have to do is properly dry it, find the right combination of products to use—probably a nourishing oil and a good leave-in conditioner—and that’s it. No more messy waves; just soft, manageable curls.

Regulus is completely confident that he could—and he might like to try it once, just to prove himself right—but he would never actually want James to do it. As chaotic as those curls are, Regulus can’t imagine James without them. He would never want to card his fingers through anything other than those thick, soft, ridiculous waves. So even though Regulus might threaten it, those unruly curls are part of James’ signature look, and Regulus can’t imagine ever wanting to change that.

“What are you thinking about?” James asks from where he’s laying with his head in Regulus’ lap.

“Your hair.” Regulus tells him as he runs his fingers through it.

“Ugh. Not again.” James grumbles.

“One of these days, Potter. You’ll let me get my hands on these curls!” He tugs on James’ hair.

“Never.”

[ginevrapng]

you're alone with james in his room, lying in his bed and playing with his hair while he's laying his head on you. you've always loved playing with his hair and he's always loved you playing with it, he finds it relaxing and his hair is so silky and soft.

one of the many perks of him being head boy is that he has a separate room so he doesn't have to dorm with people anymore. he doesn't think there's a problem with sharing a room with his friends but when you used to come up to his room to spend time with him someone else would always be there talking to you, stealing your attention. he could handle when remus or sirius brought people back for the night with simple silencing charms and closing of the curtains but it was a different story when he wanted to see only you and instead you included everyone in the conversations you were having, you might have even ended up on one of the others bed. he wanted you all to himself. now that he's head boy he's gotten his wish and he gets all your attention.

james is so comfortable he could fall asleep. with the combination of you playing with his messy hair, him getting to feel your warmth and your cute squishy tummy underneath his head, he's in heaven. there's no place he'd rather be than with you.

you can tell that james is close to falling asleep due to him starting to talk less and when he does he does it languidly. "mmph, you're so comfy and soft."

you giggle at that, " 'm glad to hear it jamie. y'know if you end up falling asleep i'll do the same."

as you say that you hear sirius swinging the door open, followed by remus and peter. james grumbles at the noise and turns his head away from the door so he's laying with his cheek pressed up against you and nuzzles you. "you should of knocked sirius," remus scolds him.

"oh, give over. it's not like they were doing anything," sirius retorts.

james grabs hold of your waist tightly, silently wishing for them to leave and him to be able to continue nearly falling asleep on you. "yeah sirius, next time knock." james' heart beats quickly and his breathing hitches. is this a confession? "we could of been talking shit about you or conspiring against you." james wants to feel let down that it's not a confession about how you might have been together in ways that would constitute a silencing charm and closing of curtains, but he can't, you're so cute, just so very you, he laughs and true smile appears on his face, where his eyes crinkle at the corners with cheeks raised high.

"you may have forgotten prongs, because obviously i so rudely interrupted you, but we've got a prank planned with snivellus right now," sirius looks at you both and smirks.

"i thought you've been more careful with your pranks recently guys. why are you pranking snape?" you sit up and look at them all.

"because, my dear, snivellus deserves it," sirius replies leaning against the wall. james narrows his eyes at the term of endearment sirius called you, it went unnoticed by you but sirius noticed and smirked again.

you roll your eyes at 'snivellus deserves it', snape always deserves it but james said he'd try and be more careful this year since he's been appointed head boy and remus is a prefect as well. they said if they're going to be pulling anymore pranks they'll be more discrete but you don't think it will be discrete with the way sirius is talking.

"it was james' idea actually," remus adds on.

james sits up and he comes to his own defence quickly, "he a thousand percent deserves it this time."

you cross your arms and look at him annoyance, "you're not going to tell me why this time are you?"

"no, but you'll have to believe me on this." you grab hold of his arm and pout before dramatically falling back on the bed. james grins again as he takes that as a yes and pulls you back up. "are you gonna stay here until after 'm back?"

you shake your head and shuffle closer to him, " it's getting late jamie, i'm going back to m' dorm."

he thought you'd say that but he also had hoped that you'd stay and he'd come back with you asleep in his bed. "alright love, see you tomorrow morning?"

you nod you head and kiss his cheek before getting up, "night everyone, night jamie. please try not to get into any trouble tonight."

"can't make any promises," sirius tells you before remus whacks his arm.

"we'll be fine," peter reassures you.

"yeah, i'll keep everyone in check," remus tells you.

they successfully carried out their prank that night without getting caught. that morning you see snape with bright pink hair and the marauders grinning brightly. james grins the most, payback for calling my best friend someone you wouldn't touch with a ten-foot broomstick when rosier asked if you liked her and were friends. like she'd ever, EVER want to be friends with you, like she'd ever, EVER even tolerate you.

[everythingisromant1c]

It's Always Been You

james potter x fem!reader

Completed! Series

summary - You've known golden-boy James Potter for as long as you can remember. Though you don't just know him—he's your very best friend. But there's just one problem: you've fallen deeply, madly in love with him. Or two problems, if you count his thing for your friend Lily Evans. As time goes by, all you want is to get over him. Although, James seems set on making that the most impossible challenge of them all.

tags: James Potter x f!reader, childhood best friends to lovers, pining, unrequited love (or is it), "why are you pushing me away?", some miscommunication, Marauder!reader, hurt/comfort, angst, and a kiss that changed everything.

warnings: underage drinking, some mild cursing, occasional innuendo, she/her pronouns used, no use of y/n

a/n: this story has been a long time in the making ... but I'm very excited for it to be out! a very special thank u to everyone who supported it during its release, it rly means the world to me. with that being said, happy reading !! hope you guys enjoy <3 - e

check this out on my ao3!

*masterlist

read here:

Chapter 1 ->

Chapter 2 ->

Chapter 3 ->

Chapter 4 ->

Chapter 5 ->

Chapter 6 ->

Chapter 7 ->

Chapter 8 ->

Chapter 9 ->

Chapter 10 ->

Chapter 11 ->

Chapter 12 ->

*completed* <33

[izels-writing]

j. potter — 5 times james showed you he loved you + the 1st time he said it

Pairing: james potter x childhood best friend!fem!reader

Summary: james is in love with you, as you are with him.

Warnings: longer than usual, FLUFFF, a bit specific (y/n have a big family and nut allergy), a break up (not james ), confession scene is bad but i feel that’s what childhood best friend love confession would look like😭, ALSO I USED A LITTLE DIALOGUE FROM GILMORE GIRLS AND B99 BC I JUST HAD TO OKAY IT WAS FUNNY

a/n: i tried so hard with this one, pls tell me if u like it! it’s a bit different than my usual writing

august 12th, 1969:

"what're you two doing?" euphemia potter asked, a small smile gracing her lips as she noticed you and james sat across each other on his bedroom floor.

you placed your piece down, grinning at james' utter disappointment as you took his piece in the process. he groaned.

"we're playing muggle chess," he told his mother. "and y/n's beating me!"

you smiled. "i told him it wasn't as easy as he thought!" you countered, noticing euphemia's chuckle.

"well, it's getting late you two," she said. "i don't suppose you two expect to be up until the wee hours playing this game," though she tried to be stern, you and james knew how incapable she was when it came to the two of you.

"mum! we're nine now! can't we just have a little bit longer? nine o'clock it too early," james complained. "how about ten thirty?"

euphemia crossed her arms in thought. "how about ten o'clock?"

"ten-twenty," james countered.

"ten-fifteen," euphemia concluded, "take it or leave it,"

"we'll take it!" you exclaimed. james nodded in agreement, though, he always agreed with whatever you said.

you supposed that was part of the best friends thing.

you and james had been best friends since you were five years old, when your parents inherited the house next door to his—which was a blessing given the large family you had. three brothers, two sisters, and you—making a total of six kids. your three bedroom apartment wasn't cutting it anymore at that point.

so, to escape your loud and obnoxious family, you often spent all of your time at the potters. it helped that you and james didn't go to school, given euphemia taught you at home. out of all of your siblings, only you and two of your brothers had inherited magic. whereas the rest of them had to attend muggle school, you, james, and your two brothers were homeschooled by euphemia.

and everyone knew since the day you moved in, you and james were inseparable.

"alright then, either of you fancy a snack?" euphemia asked. "i don't want either of you eating too late,"

"no, thank you, mrs. potter," you replied with a small smile.

"yeah, we're okay mum, thank you," james added.

"of course," euphemia grinned. she eerily looked like a girl version of james when she did grinned, you supposed that's why you found her so comforting. "and y/n, dear, how many times have i told you to call me mia?"

you smiled sheepishly. "i'm sorry, i can't,"

and truthfully, as much as you tried, it felt way to disrespectful to call her by her name and not mrs. potter.

"yeah," james snickered, "she's got this weird compulsion where she has to be perfect and respectful all the time," james taunted.

"shut up," you laughed, shoving james gently.

"alright, well, ten-fifteen...alright?" she looked at you both warningly.

"yes ma'am," you and james chorused, but as soon as she left, you two burst into a fit of laughter.

even if lights were out by ten-fifteen, you two would still be awake all hours of the night laughing and talking about seemingly nothing.

you let him play his turn, smiling as he made a rookie mistake. you quickly showed him how bad his mistake was.

"y/n!" he groaned.

"face it, potter," you sighed. "i'm just better..."

he rolled his eyes and shoved the pillow in his lap at your face. you, being you, caught it with a laugh and threw it aside. analyzing the board as he went to make his next move.

he'd never admit he let you win just so he could see the smile on your face when you did.

——

march 15th, 1996:

"stop painting her nails and help me find an outfit!" sirius exclaimed. "moony won't wait forever!"

james looked up from your hand as you both turned to look at sirius. though he'd never admit it aloud, james loved painting your nails ever since you forced him to do it the first time because your hands were too shaky.

"red shirt, leather jacket, and..." you squinted before turning to james to let him decide what pants your lovesick friend should wear.

"black jeans," he decided. you nodded in agreement.

"thank you, mr. and mrs. potter," sirius sighed, pulling out the exact clothes you two had picked out. "finally you pay attention to me,"

his nickname for you both made you shift slightly, as it always did. not that either of them noticed.

"don't be dramatic, sirius," you replied, rolling your eyes. "painting nails is tedious work,"

"you're tedious work," sirius grumbled, quickly changing. the boys had no qualms changing in front of you despite the fact that you were a girl, they'd known you as long as they'd known james—given you were a package deal when you got to hogwarts.

"how are you two planning to spend the afternoon?" he asked, making conversation as he finished up his eyeliner.

"napping," you replied. you had pulled the longest study session ever last night, and still had to wake up in time for classes. to say you were tired was an understatement.

james didn't like naps as much as you, but he laid with you until you fell asleep because he was so warm. you practically forced him to.

"cuddle session?" sirius asked, ruffling his hair in style.

"that's the one," james replied, finishing your last nail.

"it never ceases to amaze me how close you two are without being in love," sirius chuckled before slipping on his shoes. "anyway, bye...don't wait up for me and moony," he winked before closing the door behind him.

he wasn't entirely truthful. sirius knew about your long haboured crush in james since your third year of hogwarts. at first, you were convinced it was just teen hormones and it'd wear off.

it did not.

if anything, it got worse ever since then. you couldn't be near the boy without smiling and you certainly spent most of your time with him if not with mary or the other boys you two had befriended. he just understood you, he was your person.

the worst part was that you knew he didn't feel the same. you'd known since your first year about his undying love for lily evans, which had progressed so much more over the years.

you supposed you'd get over it eventually.

you scoffed. "look at him, flaunting what we don't have—remus,"

"i know, the utter torture knowing remus will never be ours," he sighed sarcastically. you laughed,

he lied down, arm behind his head which flexed all the right muscles. meanwhile you blew at your nails to make them dry faster. you marveled at the beautiful pink color, perfectly done by your best friend.

"you can take the girl out of the muggle world, but not the muggle world out of the girl," james teased before grabbing his wand and waving it wordlessly. in an instant, your nails were fully dry.

you scoffed. "please, you love the muggle world,"

he grinned. "yeah, i do," he shrugged.

you lied beside him, curling up into him to wrap your arms around his waist and your legs around his hips. it wasn't always the most comfortable position for him, but he put up with it for you, unbeknownst to you. you lied your head on his shoulder, breathing in his aromatic cologne.

you never understood why you tortured yourself like this. you knew these moments would just make you fall harder for him, but you couldn't help yourself. even if he'd never be your boyfriend, at least you had him in your life.

"alright, see you in two hours," you mumbled, adjusting your head comfortably.

"i'll be here," he sighed in fake annoyance. "waiting..."

"shut up," you muttered sleepily.

a few movements later, he smiled softly as you began to snore quietly. he kissed your head ever so softly, as to not wake you, pushing hair out of your face.

he really did hate naps.

but not the ones with you.

——

september 22nd, 1974:

the five of you sat in the greats hall, piling your plates as everyone chattered during their dinner. you laughed at whatever sirius said, waiting for remus to let go of the spoon for the macaroni bowl.

"pads, wipe your mouth," james scolded, handing the friend in question a cloth. sirius rolled his eyes and grabbed it, wiping his mouth aggressively.

"happy?" the grey-eyed got asked in feign annoyance.

you laughed as james rolled his eyes and nodded.

"y/n, do you want some?" peter asked, showing you a plate of fruit bars with nuts in it.

"do you want her to die?!" james exclaimed, though it was drowned out by the loudness of the great hall.

you, sirius, and remus exchanged looks. james took all of you guys' allergies seriously, but for some reason, with yours he became scandalized. you took a deep breath, sending an apologetic look toward peter.

james scoffed. "does she look like snivellus to you?"

peter blinked at him.

"does she?" james demanded. the four of you didn't know whether he was genuinely being serious.

"no...?" peter replied.

"then why are you trying to poison her?!" he snapped.

peter sighed, remembering your allergy suddenly. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said. "i forgot,"

"it's okay," you replied with a small smile.

james glared at peter.

"what?!" peter exclaimed. "i said sorry! it's not like i shoved it down her throat!"

"shame on you, wormy," he shook his head.

"james, believe it or not," you said. "i'm a big girl, i can just tell peter no when he offers,"

"it's about principle, y/n!" he replied.

"and you call yourself one of her best friends," james scoffed, shaking his head at peter again.

"james, if you don't stop, i'll put normal milk in your cereal, you lactose-intolerant freak," peter threatened.

remus sighed. "one peaceful dinner, it's all i ask," he grumbled. sirius rubbed his arm comfortingly.

you laughed loudly, making the other four turn to you. quickly, the rest of them broke and laughter filled the table. quickly, remus, sirius, and peter resumed their own conversation—leaving you to talk to james.

"thanks for remembering, it's very kind of you," you admitted to him lowly. "even though you're such a drama queen about it," you taunted.

"of course, i actually know you," he whispered back. "not like these posers,"

you laughed, shoving him playfully. "you're such a loser,"

"takes one to know one," he fired back.

you rolled your eyes and joined in the conversation in front of you, grabbing a cookie and breaking it in half. without breaking your conversation, you handed one half to james and began to eat the other.

he smiled at you and ate his half.

of course he remembered everything about you. how could he not? you were going to be in his life for the rest of it. that he was sure of.

——

june 12th, 1975:

you sniffled, wiping your nose on a tissue as you went through your various polaroids. your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, had broken up with you a couple hours ago. as much as you tried not to cry over a boy, especially one that wasn't your best friend, you couldn't help but feel hurt nonetheless.

you liked him. and he just made a bet to date you for five months.

mary, marlene, emmeline, and lily had tried to comfort you but to no avail. you asked them to leave you be and they complied, silently agreeing to get the one person who they all knew could comfort you.

you held back a sob, cutting up the pictures and discarding them in the dorm trash. god, you felt pathetic. he wasn't worth it. but it still hurt.

a knock at the door caught your attention.

"come in," you sniffled, thinking it was one of the girls trying to get to your shared room that you selfishly kicked them out of. you hated crying in front of people.

a tall, lean raven-headed boy entered the room. he held a box of tissues and a buttload of snacks. he set everything down on your desk, eyes scanning you sadly.

"he dated me on a bet, james," you sniffled as your voice wavered slightly. "he broke up with me this morning,"

you met his eyes, seeing how worried he looked, and got shoved your face into your hands—a quiet sob escaping your lips, muffled by your hands.

"i'm so sorry, love," he mumbled, sitting in front of you to pull you into a hug. you hugged him back tightly, crying quietly into his shoulder. you felt terrible for his tear-stained shoulder, but the tears wouldn't stop.

you just felt so pathetic and used. how could you fall for it so easily? but you suppose if there was anyone you could be vulnerable with, it was your best friend in the entire world.

"why didn't he like me?" you mumbled tearfully.

"because he's an idiot," james replied, holding you tightly. "because he doesn't know what a great girl is even if it slapped him in the face,"

you let go. "how could i be so stupid? i mean i should've known! in all my five years at hogwarts, no boy has ever asked me out... i should've trusted my gut," you shook your head disappointedly.

"you're not stupid," james assured you. "he is, don't get it twisted. you liked him, there's nothing wrong with that, he just happened to be a prat,"

you frowned. "i suppose. but i mean i should've known..."

james cupped your face, looking into your eyes. "listen to me, y/n," he said seriously. "you are the most beautiful girl i know, you're smart and kind and funny and understanding...i could go on and on. he lost a great girl and he will pay for it for the rest of his life, do not feel pathetic and upset over some stupid bloke—got me?"

you let a smile grace your face. "you think i'm beautiful?"

he huffed and let go of your face, though you could see his playful expression. "is that really the only thing you got from that?"

you shook your head. "no, i heard you loud and clear," you admitted with a small smile. "thank you, j, you're the ultimate best friend,"

he grinned. "i know, it's a talent,"

you rolled your eyes. without you having to say anything, he grabbed the snacks and began to open them up for you, the both of you beginning to eat from the packages of snacks.

"am i more beautiful than farrah fawcett?" you asked teasingly.

"don't push your luck," he huffed.

you let out a melodic laugh and instantly, a smile spread across james' face. that's all he wanted, was to make you laugh.

the very next week, your ex boyfriend ended up in the hospital wing after a few humiliating yet harmless hexes being cast on him. unfortunately, all four marauders received detention for something they had very obviously done.

james didn't care. he'd go through millions of detentions if it meant protecting you.

——

may 27th, 1976:

a thousand used tissues and a finished vial of cold medicine later, you had only gotten through the first five chapters of your potions book. despite your efforts, you hadn’t made much progress in the years worth of material you were set to cover. exams were in two weeks and you were much more behind than you had realized. you had no time to recover, not when o.w.l’s determined what classes you received next year.

your eyes drooped as you turned the page, leaning your head in your hand tiredly. you weren’t even sure you were retaining anything anymore, just studying so you could say you had done it.

lily and mary had left you some time ago, tired themselves. they had begged you and pleaded for you to join them in your dorm, so you could sleep off the medicine. you were the only one sick—just your luck.

you refused and moreover, begun to ignore them. they didn’t take it personally, they knew how you could get around exam time. they muttered that they’d come back to check on you soon. that had been four hours ago, and you were happy that they seemingly weren’t going to come back any time soon.

a loud clatter across the library made you sit up from your medicine-potion-induced trance. your eyes opened wider, scanning the dark library for any movement. madam pince had left two hours ago, given the library had closed and she had no idea you were back here.

“hello?” you whispered, mentally cursing yourself for the stupid mistake. if there was someone here, like a teacher, you surely had just given yourself away.

thankfully for you, it wasn’t a teacher or staff member. instead, it was your best friend.

“y/n? what’re you doing here? it’s twelve-a.m.!” james whispered loudly, moving the books that had blocked your view effortlessly. he kneeled by you on the chair, your body relaxing as you realized it was him.

“baking a cake,” you replied sarcastically. “what does it look like i’m doing, potter?”

“first of all, you know last names hurt me,” james replied. “secondly, you look like shit,”

he felt your forehead. “and you feel like shit,”

“wow, you sure know how to charm a lady, james,” you replied with a playfully eye roll. “don’t worry, i’m on my way back to the dorms, just twenty more minutes,”

james gave you a deadpan look. “mary and lily told me you said that four hours ago,”

so that’s who revealed your location. the traitors.

“james, i have to study! i can’t just not pass my potions o.w.l’s?” you replied.

james sat on the chair diagonal to you, looking at your very obviously sick form. it had to be some strain of the summer flu, given remus had gotten it just a week prior.

“to quote my mother, you have to sleep—it’s what keeps you beautiful,” he tried persuasively. you were not nothing if not vain.

you scoffed. “who’s gonna cares about beauty if i fail my finals?!”

“your future husband?” james tried.

“i won’t be marrying anyone that vain,” you concluded.

“that should make me feel better,” he replied. “but you working yourself to death does not,”

“okay, you can study for twenty more minutes,” he sighed after a moment of you staring at each other. “i’ll go make you a tea and wait with you to make sure you actually come to bed,”

you rolled your eyes and waved him off, returning to your potions textbook in no time. james quickly ambled out of the library and made his way to the kitchen.

thankfully for him, filch was on leave for a few days, not that anyone knew that. he had walked into a particularly nasty prank by james and sirius, leaving him stuck in the hospital wing for a few days. all the staff elected to not tell students, in hopes it’d scare them into not sneaking out at night.

james quickly made his way back to the kitchen, asked the house elves for a tea, and began making his way back. it was in a tiny coffee to go cup—why the house elves had them, james had no idea, but it certainly made his life easier.

he couldn’t have been gone more than a ten minutes, but as james got back, he quickly noticed the angle of the light from your wand was not the same as it had been when he left. james quietly made his way over and smiled warmly at the sight.

there you were, head lying on the table, hands tucked into your sweatshirt in attempts to be warm. you were sound asleep, the potion having finally caught up to you. granted, james was just glad the amount you had drank hadn’t killed you—as he was sure it wasn’t safe at all to finish a vial in one day.

he walked over and summoned a blanket with the flick of his wand, allowing for his hand to catch it immediately. he placed the tea down on the table. then, he pushed the hair out of your face and draped the cover over you, kissing your head gently as he had felt you do to him so many times.

he wrapped it around you and with one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around your knees and another around your neck—cradling you close to his chest. you woke for a moment, brief and unaware, to wrap your arms around his neck. he tried to fight the nerves that twisted in his stomach at your touch.

and all the way from the library to the common room, james held you tight and carried you all the way back, careful not to wake you. you were burning up, but other than that, you looked comfortable. much more comfortable than before.

the fat lady, without a word, swung open when she saw james and he safely brought you inside—laying you down on the couch. you stirred a bit and looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.

“thanks, j,” you whispered.

“of course,” he grinned, sitting beside you, moving your legs on his lap. “now get some sleep, i’ll wait here with you,”

“you’re a good best friend,” you mumbled through a yawn.

james smiled and kissed his fingers, gently placing them on your head. you smiled happily and fell asleep in no time.

he only wished that one day he’d be more than just your best friend.

——

october 11th, 1977:

you sat in front of james on his bed, finishing up an essay you two had worked on together. the entire day, no���the entire week, he’d been acting strange. james was usually strange, but not this strange. he had been gentler and his face would burn up whenever sirius mentioned his little nickname for both of you.

it was beginning to scare you. what if he was becoming uncomfortable with the jokes? the nicknames? what if he had a girlfriend and he didn’t know how to tell you that your relationship with each other would have to change? how would you even react to that?

you looked up at him, noticing the boy wringing his hands. despite this, you said nothing. maybe you could live in denial just a little longer.

“i have something to tell you,” james spoke suddenly.

you looked up, eying him carefully. “what’s up, j?”

james’ face flushed a light pink as he looked up at you sincerely. he swallowed thickly. for a moment, he stared at you. you both just looked into each others eyes and you were unsure what to do next. he’d never been this serious with you.

“you alrig—“

“i love you,” he blurted. “as more than a best friend,”

you would like to say that what you did next was completely intentional, but it wasn’t. as a matter of fact, you weren’t quite sure where it came from.

THUD!

you covered your mouth, looking in shock as james landed on the ground. he wasn’t terribly hurt, just shocked. you were shocked as well.

“that is…not what i expected,” james muttered, standing up and sitting in front of you again.

“what was that for?” he asked.

“i dunno…” you mumbled. “i panicked, i didn’t know what to say…”

james softened his gaze at you and a smile curled onto his lips. soon enough, you began to smile too. and then you both burst into laughter. after you both sobered up, you smiled at him.

“i love you too, as more than a best friend,” you finally replied. it felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders—you finally confesses your biggest secret to james. “just so you know,”

he smiled. “i’m glad to hear that,”

“wow, what a loser,” you commented playfully. “usually this is the scene where the guy kisses the girl,”

he grinned. “really? sort of like this?”

he pulled you in, your lips touching quickly. if this is what heaven felt like, you understood why everyone wanted to go so bad. you pulled him closer, refusing to break the kiss.

you broke apart finally. “yeah…like that,” you grinned.

“will you…?” james stumbled on his words.

you grinned, knowing him perfectly enough to know exactly what he’s asking. “yes, james, i will be your girlfriend,” you replied happily.

he smiled, pulling you in again.

he’d finally confessed it.

bonus;

“what’re you two doing?” you grinned, leaning against the doorway of your son harry’s room.

he threw down a card, glaring at ginny as she placed down her own card with a smirk.

“we’re playing uno,” ginny replied with a smile. “ron didn’t want to play so harry and i decided to go against each other,”

“how is it a muggle game and she’s beating me?! she’s never even played before!” harry exclaimed.

“you underestimate weasley’s,” ginny grinned. “we’re not as ignorant as you think,”

“well, it’s getting late you two,” you commented, glancing at the clock in harry’s room. “i don’t suppose you two plan on playing until the wee hours,”

“mum! we’re thirteen now!” harry groaned. “we can stay up a little later than nine-thirty, right?”

ginny nodded and shrugged. “i mean i’m twelve, but still…”

you sighed in feign annoyance. “fine, ten-fifteen, and then ginny will go sleep in your sisters room and you and ron will have to go to bed—sound good, you two?”

“but—“ harry began.

you smirked. your son—ever the clone of james potter, your husband. “let me rephrase, ten-fifteen, take it or leave it,”

“we’ll take it!” ginny replied quickly.

“yeah, we will,” harry smiled, glancing at ginny with a little glint in his eyes. you and james knew full well the future of harry and ginny’s relationship, even if no one else did.

“good, ten-fifteen,” you said warningly before making your way downstairs.

james lounged on the couch, clicking through tv channels. you curled up beside him.

“they’re doing the thing,” you commented, knowing james would know exactly what you meant.

“remember when we were that young and in love?” james grinned.

“aren’t we still young and in love?” you teased.

“not that young anymore, but in love? yes,” he replied with a smirk. you rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around his chest and draping your legs across his lap.

“i’m glad it’s ginny, she’s a bold little lady,” your husband grinned. “just the other day, she defended your son against this kid at the little league quidditch try-outs, even punched his nose,”

“i know, harry came home and told me all about it,” you grinned. “all impressed and admiring, even ron saw how in love he looked,”

“well, we potter men love ballsy ladies,” james joked.

you rolled your eyes. “don’t i know it…”

[velvetcharms]

Brother’s Best Friend

Sirius Black x reader

In which Sirius Black finds comfort in the person he least expects.

The same day that Sirius Black realized his parents were Slytherins was the same day that Sirius had sworn off all Slytherins forever. It started off as a childish thing, a one-sided, unspoken attempt to get back at his parents for all of their strict rules and exaggerated lectures about the importance of his pure-blood ancestry.

When he met James Potter on his first train ride to Hogwarts, the resentment towards Slytherins grew into a shared inside joke. Something that the two of them could continuously throw around. Never mind that James Potter was from a pure-blood family as well. The joke was just another feeble attempt to get back at his parents.

And then, he met Severus Snape. And then, he met the insults and snide remarks of his Slytherin classmates. And then, he had finally decided: there was no good that came out of Slytherin.

So it’s no surprise that when his little brother, Regulus, was sorted into Slytherin a year later, Sirius was devastated. Sirius was silent during the entirety of dinner and even remained silent as he arrived in his dorm. The other boys tried not to disturb him, but they had never seen him so quiet before, and it was starting to disturb them.

“Some evening,” Peter said awkwardly, a yawn emerging from him. Remus gave him a strict look before turning his attention back to Sirius, worry evident on his face.

The silence only seemed to grow thicker until finally Sirius sighed and his words rushed out, eager for release.

“I thought he was different. This whole time I thought he wasn’t like them,” Sirius began.

“I mean yeah, Slytherins can be awful, but he’s your brother,” James replied, attempting to soothe his best friend.

“Very insightful, James,” Remus said sarcastically from his side of the dorm. He leaned back against his bed frame. “But I agree. He’s your brother. You know him.”

“I don’t think I do anymore,” he replied solemnly, his eyes sullen yet harsh.

“Don’t be like that, Sirius,” said Remus, “just talk to him.”

Sirius doesn’t talk to him the next day. Or the rest of the year for that matter. He says what he has to during the summer but when school starts, he goes back to ignoring him.

It’s not easy to pretend that Regulus doesn’t exist. He started to play quidditch. He is one of the smartest in his year. And he’s always seen with a Slytherin girl that is in Sirius’ potions class. She’s reserved and intelligent. She seems polite enough. She talks with Lily Evans. She’s even pretty. But she’s also a Slytherin and Sirius believes that’s a good enough reason not to trust her.

She’s always with Regulus. They sit together in the Great Hall. They walk in the corridors together. Sirius spots her one day leaning against Regulus’ shoulder, laughing loudly at something he said. Sirius resents her for it. He hates her for knowing Regulus.

Later that day, Sirius is walking into Potions class when he spots her talking with Lily Evans. He tries to walk past unbothered, but then he hears her mention Regulus’ name.

“Regulus and I have a bet,” she says with a laugh. Sirius tries to ignore how sweet her laugh sounds.

“Is that right?” Lily chuckles and shakes her head.

“He’s the best seeker that’s ever been. Write it down. This Saturday. You’ll see.”

“He really doesn’t think he’ll catch the snitch?” Lily wonders curiously.

The girl responds back with a small pout. “He doubts himself a lot. I hate it. But I’ll win the bet, and he’ll see.”

Sirius rolls his eyes and continues walking. What does she know? Regulus is his brother after all.

Their conversation leaves him with an irritation that follows him the rest of the day and a worry that maybe he doesn’t know his brother anymore. James has tried cheering him up, but Sirius continues his sulking all day. He hardly eats anything when they sit down in the Great Hall. He goes to bed as soon as they make their way to the dorms. No one bothers him.

The next morning, the marauders don’t even have to ask Sirius what’s wrong. He wakes up determined and explains the whole situation to them.

“He doubts himself sometimes. I hate it,” Sirius says, mocking the girl as his story comes to an end. He shakes his head furiously.

“Are you talking about y/n?” asks Remus.

“Y/n? I don’t even know who that is. Did you hear anything that I even said?” Sirius looks as if Remus has just deeply betrayed him.

“The girl you keep complaining about. She’s Lily’s partner in potions,” says Remus as if this is common knowledge.

“A friend of Lily’s is a friend of mine,” says James, a teasing smile on his face.

Sirius thinks that maybe, given a different circumstance, he might have laughed. But James is supposed to always be on his side, so he makes a face of disgust instead. “You too? Peter?”

“She’s quite pretty,” He responds with a shrug of his shoulders.

“She’s a Slytherin,” Sirius mutters, but it’s loud enough for the rest of them to catch it.

“Really?” Remus rolls his eyes, “I thought we were past all of the house prejudice or whatever you’d like to call it.”

“That’s not why I don’t like her,” Sirius lies, quickly defending himself. He pauses as he struggles to come up with another valid reason. He continues on anyway, “she’s very… assuming. How can she possibly know how Regulus feels? I’m his brother. If anyone knows him it’s me.”

The three of the boys share a knowing look.

“Sirius,” Peter speaks up hesitantly “when’s the last time you even spoke to Regulus?”

Sirius isn’t sure why that question hits him as hard as it does, but it hurts. Surely it wasn’t that long ago. They spoke a little during last summer whenever he wasn’t at James’ house…

Sirius decides that he doesn’t owe any of them an explanation. He stands up quickly and mutters a faint, “excuse me.”

Sirius’ urge to run away leads him to the front of Hogwarts’ entrance. He finds it ironic that the first thing he notices as he exits Hogwarts’ front doors is the Slytherin girl, or Y/n as she sits alone near the Great Lake.

Sirius had no time to think about the reckless act he was about to make. He was fueled by the anger of Peter’s question and the fact that he really didn’t know when the last time he had spoken to his brother was. He figured the only obvious option was to blame her. The girl with soft eyes and a determined expression. The girl sitting with her back against the tree, seeming not to notice the ruckus of the other students around her, not even noticing Sirius’ haste steps towards her as she stares into her book.

“Y/n, is it?” he says finally as he comes to an abrupt stop in front of her. In a quick second, her eyebrows furrow and her gaze is on him. Her eyes even widen a little bit.

She takes a few seconds to respond, and in all of those few seconds, Sirius can feel himself growing impatient. Before she can even finish saying yes, Sirius cuts her off.

“It’s a bit cold out here to be reading don’t you think?” his tone is harsh.

“What?” she replies confused, and Sirius almost feels bad. Almost.

“It’s just that it’s cold, and you’re not even wearing a jacket and…” Sirius’ voice begins to falter. His pride doesn’t let him stop. “I’m Regulus’ brother.”

She nods. “I know that,” she says sharply.

Sirius is immediately taken aback.

“Fine. Who are you anyway, his girlfriend or something?” he replies back with the same sharpness in his tone.

She laughs loudly enough to surprise him. He looks at her in confusion, and she shakes her head. “Who are you to ask something like that? You won’t even look at him.”

Sirius tries not to let that hurt him, but it does. “I’m his brother.” He keeps saying this. He’s hoping that after saying it enough times this simple fact will make up for everything else.

“No. I’m not his girlfriend,” she replies.

“You just seem to always be with him,” Sirius presses on, and he knows he shouldn’t, but some pathetic part of him feels like by talking to her, he’s kind of talking to Regulus.

“He’s my best friend.” With those simple words, Sirius has the daunting feeling that he has completely lost his brother. He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and Y/n just stares up at him curiously.

“Why are you speaking to me, Sirius?” she asks after moments of silence.

“I don’t know,” he admits because isn’t it just the truth? He doesn’t know.

Y/n continues to stare at him, and it kind of annoys Sirius until she finally says, in a calm voice, “Talk to him before the match tomorrow.”

Sirius doesn’t really understand, but before he can ask, she’s adding on.

“ ‘Good luck’ or ‘you’re going down’ I don’t care what it is. Talk to him.” And with that, she goes back to her book.

Sirius is going to talk to him. The game is about to start, and Regulus is right there. He’s going to talk to him any minute now…

Regulus is already focused on the game. Most people have a hard time understanding Regulus, but to Sirius it comes naturally. He can see the way worry flickers across his face before immediately being pushed away. He feels the urge to reach out, to comfort him. And now he understands why Y/n had asked him to say something; he understands her conversation with Lily.

The whistle blows and Regulus is about to fly when Sirius blurts it out.

“Good luck,” he says to Regulus. Regulus is undoubtedly surprised. His eyebrows raise, and he’s quiet for a few seconds.

Then, he simply nods, “Sure, you too.”

Regulus doesn’t sound bitter. The interaction between them almost feels natural. Sirius smiles lightly. Although, it doesn’t take long for the brief happiness to subside into a feeling of guilt. He spent so much time resenting his brother for something outside of his control. He has a sinking feeling that he was wrong.

He tries to find Y/n in the stands, and when he does he breathes in sharply at the sight. She is smiling so brightly that he finds it difficult to look away. He hates to admit it, but he thinks he might have been wrong about her too.

[lulublack90]

Prompt 15 - Camera

@jegulus-microfic September 15, Word count 243

“Why can’t I get one decent photo of Regulus?” Sirius grumbled as he looked through the photo albums he’d got out to put the new pictures that James had printed off for him in. James grinned down at the collection of Regulus photos where every single one had his face covered but either his hand, his phone or an object that was within grabbing distance. There was even one where he’d grabbed Remus as a shield. A surprised Remus, with a chocolate hobnob hanging out of his mouth, stared at the camera with only Regulus’s hand on his collar to show he was even in the picture. 

Regulus walked into the kitchen yawning sleepily.

“Hey, Reg!” James beamed at him as he raised his phone and took a picture of the boy in the doorway. “Here you go, Padfoot,” He said, sending the image over to Sirius’s phone and then looking back at the rosy-cheeked Regulus. “Tea?” He asked simply and Regulus nodded. He got up and went over to the kettle while Regulus made himself comfortable at the table. 

“Thanks, Prongs,” Sirius said as he opened the photo. “Wow, he’s smiling! How did you get him to smile?!” Sirius asked, zooming in on Regulus’s face. James shrugged as he placed fresh cups of tea in front of everyone at the table.

“Magic,” He chuckled, winking at Regulus as he took his seat and watching as pink crept up the other boy’s face. 

[siriuslylu]

Sirius: Moony, let’s have a kid

Remus: I thought we had James

[the-original-gays]

Dumbledore: Apparently, someone has been leaking classified information to the death eaters. The entire order is under investigation.

Marlene: That's crazy. No one here's a spy.

Dumbledore: How can you be so sure?

Marlene: Because I know these guys. I know everything about them.

Dumbledore: You're naive if you think people can't surprise you.

Marlene: Not these people. Here, watch this, I know what everyone's going to do tonight. It's Thursday, so Lily's going to leave early for healer training. Sirius will be working on his stupid bike. Remus will be warning Sirius about how dangerous his stupid bike is. And Peter will be visiting his mum.

Pete: She gets worried if I don't check in regularly.

Marlene: And, if I run and jump at James, he will most certainly catch me in his arms.

Marlene, sprinting to James: COMING IN!

James: NO! I'M HOLDING HOT TEA!

James: *Drops tea to catch Marlene*

[littleliterarylesbian]

lesbian lily,,, oooo lesbian lily save me,,,,

[evadwrites]

i have some thoughts on zar’s exit from the fandom & their decision to delete their fics and how the fandom is reacting to that. and the fandom is reacting horribly.

and the irony of it all! because, arguably, crimson rivers is what zar is most known for. crimson rivers, set in the hunger games universe, created by suzanne collins to criticize capitalism, the entertainment industry, and consumerism patterns of offered media and how it varies based on a social class. and zar’s work added so much nuance to what suzanne collins had written. zar had done an excellent job writing james, sirius, and regulus as victors and exploring their respective traumas when it comes to being in the public eye.

regulus (and james, too) constantly felt like he had no autonomy and no choice because he was thrust into the public light and pressured into doing exactly what was expected of him. and sirius? oh, sirius. sirius won his games and was made into this galaxy-sized celebrity by the hallows, expected to conform to every assumption made about him, to follow all the rules his new role as a mentor & a victor burdened him with. but most importantly—the hallows viewed sirius as nothing more than what he could offer to them. they looked at him and did not see the person.

zar wrote that, and tens-hundreds of thousands people read it and completely misunderstood. because zar wrote 865k words exploring how traumatizing it is to be made into an Image, to be stripped away of your autonomy for the sake of entertaining others. zar wrote that, only for the marauders fandom to do the exact same thing to them that the hallows did to sirius, to regulus, to james; to victors.

and that. that is fucking infuriating.

because, yes, zar is a brilliant writer, but first and foremost, zar is a person. and the way a large part of the fandom has been treating them is completely dehumanizing.

STOP saying “i respect/support zar’s decision but [insert a paragraph about how devastated you are and how you cannot stop crying]”.

STOP sharing the pdfs/epubs of his fics on literally all social media platforms when it’s the one thing zar explicitly asked people to not do.

STOP feeling entitled to the creative work that does not the fuck belong to you. STOP thinking that you have any right to demand anything from zar. STOP hiding emotional manipulation in-between words of illusory support and respect.

and to quote zar: for fuck’s sake, STOP calling them zeppazariel.

zeppazariel is a brilliant writer who was elevated within the fandom to a height so big that it hurts when you fall and crash, and the fandom pushed zar down. the marauders fandom made zar into a full-blown celebrity, but

zar is a person.

REMEMBER THAT.

[ultravioletbrit]

“hiss” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 208 words

 

Regulus is reading by the lake with his back resting against a large tree. Suddenly he hears a light hissing in his ear and swats at the side of his head, only for his hand to smack James right in the face.

“Did you just hiss in my ear?” Regulus asks incredulously, ignoring the way James is rubbing the red mark on his cheek.

“Yes! Last night you said you love my hisses!” James defends himself.

“I said I love your kisses, you idiot.” Regulus rolls his eyes.

“Oh, thank God. I was so bloody confused!” James says with a relieved sigh.

“Why would I say I love your hisses? What does that even mean?” Regulus questions as James settles against the tree beside him.

“I don’t know!” James throws his hands up. “Why do you think I was so confused and hissed in your ear?!”

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Regulus says with a fond chuckle.

“Yes, you may have told me once or twice.” James smiles back and they gaze at each other for a moment.

“So…?” Regulus says after a beat of silence.

“So, what?” James asks and Regulus just raises his eyebrow with a tiny smirk.

“Oh. Right. Kisses.” James finally catches on and leans in to kiss Regulus.

[fangisms]

rubbish and the weather

A/N: my first hp universe fic 🥺 i hope somebody enjoys this because i LOVE neville and i LOVE friends to lovers tropes

Pairings: Neville Longbottom x Fem!Reader

Summary: Neville is hiding two things from you: the chest under his bed and his affections for you. 1.5k words

Warnings: fluff, face kisses, friendly teasing/bullying, SICKENING pining, neville being borderline creepy but in a sweet way, cursing, friends to… lovers?

"'Some have begun to question whether or not the Sorting Hat even exists'. Oh, be serious, there's no way anyone would believe this rubbish"—you toss the flimsy tabloid to the foot of the bed, nearly pelting Neville with the busily patterned cover—"Now, if they'd asked, does the Sorting Hat actually sort... well, then I'd have to think about it."

"If you think it's rubbish, then why are you subscribed?"

He doesn't even have to glance up from his almanac to know you're glaring holes through his skull. And you don't have to see the other side of his skull to know that he's borderline laughing at you.

"Oh, and I'm sure what you're reading is much more enlightening. What is this?"—You snatch the thin booklet from his lap, illuminating the soft yellow cover under your suddenly glowing wand—"Last year's Farmers' Almanac?"

"Give me that—I'm trying to follow weather patterns to understand what crops might attract juvenile basilisks to common gardens in order to decrease slug attacks on spring harvests. Are you even listening?" he whines, smacking your calf with the booklet as you reach for a worn quill and a shred of parchment.

"Mhm! Baby basilisks, slug attacks, harvests, got it!" you coo, scribbling across the paper flattened against the headboard of his bed.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing, plant boy! Go back to reading."

"Actually, I prefer plantsman, thank you very much."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, plant boy."

He turns his back to you again, sitting criss-cross on the edge of the bed, hunched over as he scans the pages for keywords and uncommon patterns.

You shift across the bed, draping one arm over Neville's shoulder and dropping the slip of paper into his lap. Your head rests on his other shoulder while he picks at the edges of the piece and ignores the fire in his face.

"For me?" he says, holding it in his palms like it could rip at any second. Like he'll blink and it'll turn to shreds in his fingers.

"It's your little basilisk"—you run your fingertip along the bottom corner where a tiny, overly worried snake sits looking up at a gigantic slug with sharp teeth that towers over him and his tomato plant—"I don't know how he's going to defend his crops this spring."

You blow a puff of air against the back of his neck, chuckling when he startles and slips the comic into the breast pocket of his pajamas.

"So you were listening after all," he teases, turning over his shoulder to find you splayed out across the bed, face buried in his pillows, arms outstretched like you're reaching for something. He wants to reach back. He wants this kind of view for the rest of his life, if only from afar.

You mumble something into the fluff and shriek when he grabs for your ankle.

"Can't hear all your whining through the bedding."

When you look at him, he thinks he could die. Your eyes sparkle in the dim and awfully warm lightning. If he's lucky, you'll brush off all of his feverish blushing as some sort of medical condition. But he's never been very lucky which is why he reaches for the back of his neck when you grin and roll over.

"I wasn't whining, I was saying—"

Light floods the room as the door flaps open to a few familiar faces that look like they've seen a ghost. You spring out of Neville's bed and gather your supplies. He feels a buzzing in his palms that begs him to beg you to stay. But it's against the rules. Even more so than your presence alone in the boys' dorms.

"I guess that's my cue to leave," you chirp, saluting to the quartet of boys shuffling through the doorway with wide eyes and shy smiles.

"Goodnight, Neville."

You kiss his cheek, patting his shoulder and flitting back through the door with one last wave. Neville sighs and tosses his almanac aside, swinging his legs off the side of the bed before he hears a chorus of high-pitched teasing:

"Goodnight, Neville! I love you, Neville!" Not to mention the kissing sounds and squeaky sighs from the group of Gryffindor imbeciles.

He would never admit it out loud, but even imagining you professing your love for him gives him butterflies. His heart races at the thought of your voice wrapped around the sweet words, your lips forming the dewy syllables just right. But he rolls his eyes and groans, settling across his mattress and forgetting the drawing in his pocket.

...

You'd been wandering around the boys' dormitories in your house sweater, humming the song that played in the pub down the road. Usually you invade Neville's space to study or catch up on tabloids, but tonight you're restless. His quill is flicking away at a sheet of classwork he forgot about until the last minute.

As you press your fingertips to each quilt stitch and dresser decoration, you notice a piece of metal gleaming at you from underneath his bed. A sharp corner protrudes from the edge; it belongs to a small brown leather chest buckled in brass and blooming with rust.

"What's this?" you coo, holding the chest across both of your palms, nudging his calf with your foot and grinning mischievously down at him. And he looks genuinely scared. Pale as a ghost and scrambling after you as you take off across the room with elated giggles and chirps.

"No—no! Give that back, it's personal!" he whines, panting as you bound over one of the beds and curl your arms around the box.

"What's yours is mine, Longbottom! Come on, whatever it is can't be that bad—"

He grabs the back of your sweater like the scruff of a puppy, dragging you backwards and knocking you off kilter. He nearly catches the chest with his hands, but you duck out of reach and jump onto his bed before he can get to you again.

"Tell me, what on Earth could Neville Longbottom be hiding—"

His heart stops when you flick open the latch and toss the lid wide. Then your smile falls.

You finger over the contents of the chest, scraps of parchment and ink fill it to its brim. They nearly spill over the edges when you plop down onto his mattress with the chest in your lap.

Your mouth opens and closes with revelation and awe. Each page is one of your spontaneously dorky animations. Spiky creatures and demon garden spawn and caricatures of Professor Snape litter the pile. They're all drawings you remember, each connects to a moment between the two of you.

Neville takes a deep breath and doesn't dare step closer, "It's not what it looks like—"

"You kept them?" you whisper, looking up at him in shock, "All of them?"

You're still flipping through the stack when he shrugs with a worrisome smile.

"...Yes."

You pause. You pause and take a sharp breath in because he's never sounded so sure in a word. You do a double take at one of the sketches. He sits on the edge of the bed, wringing his hands and glancing over at you anxiously.

"Neville"—and here it comes, he thinks, creepy, perverted, obsessive, and those sorts of things. And you wouldn't be wrong. But then he thinks he might be wrong. Because you set the box aside and spring toward him like a goddamn panther, landing him flat on the floor with a groan.

"That's adorable!

Your wet lips find his cheek and the rest of his face, hands wound into the collar of his sleep shirt as you leer down at him with a grin.

"I didn't think anyone paid attention to those stupid things."

"Well. I do," he huffs.

"I can see that, you sicko!" you shriek, "You better thank your lucky stars I'm so nice. Any other girl would've sent you right to Snape for being so perverted and creepy."

Called it.

"That's why I did it to you, not some other girl."

He doesn't know what to do with his hands, and you go shy thinking you might've crossed a line. Maybe you got too excited, flew too close to the sun, lips too close to his own. But the closeness had felt nice, and you want to make him blush like that forever.

"So you're saying it's not because I'm the prettiest girl at Hogwarts."

And you bat your lashes, pouting and leaving him weak in the knees. With your palms on his chest and you leaning closer, he's tempted to admit he's taken with you. To admit he's loved you since first year. To admit you are the prettiest girl at Hogwarts and in London and the rest of Europe. Forget the world, you're his.

"I never said that," Neville mumbles. It’s the closest he'll ever get to a real confession. At least this year.

masterlist