#the fifth year that got shit on by the owl

[im-actually-a-certified-idiot]

Smoke, Blood, and... Strawberries?

Summary: A Potions lesson on Amortentia gives Evan and Barty a nasty awakening. Only, Evan's a bit slow at realizing it.

Word count: roughly 2.9 k words

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Evan hated garlic. 

That sentiment wasn’t too unheard of, he knew; garlic was widely despised for its pungent smell. But Evan hated the taste as well- it was far too spicy and strong for him to bear. Even as a child, he’d realized his aversion towards garlic and made it very clear to all who knew him. Consequently, he was given the nickname “Vampire” and told to stop being so picky. (He refused to comply, of course.)

Unfortunately for him, there was no way to avoid it- not for another few years, at least. He had selected Potions as one of his classes to continue in his sixth year, and Professor Slughorn seemed to be overly fond of assigning his sixth year classes with potions containing garlic. What went on in that man’s head, Evan would never know, and he didn’t think he wanted to, anyway. 

“This smells like shit,” he complained to Regulus, who sat at the table in front of him. Unlike Evan, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the experience- so much that he had even taken complete control of the cauldron. His sleeves were rolled up, his face flushed from the heat- or perhaps exhilaration. He stirred the cauldron with a thick, fat wooden spoon, grinning as a silvery wisp of smoke began to rise into the air. Evan almost envied his enthusiasm.

His partner (whatever her name was), who sat beside him with absolutely nothing to do, didn’t look too bothered- she seemed to be too busy making moony eyes at the Gryffindor girl across the aisle, and all too happy to let someone else do all the work. The perfect pair, Evan thought sardonically. 

Regulus paused in his stirring, glancing over his shoulder at Evan. He looked rather annoyed to be interrupted. “It’s garlic. Do you expect it to smell like daisies?”

Evan scowled. “Thank you for your empathy,” he said sarcastically. “You’re very kind, Regulus.”

“Any time, Rosier.” Regulus turned back to his Potions. 

Little shit.   

Grimacing, Evan lifted his chopping board and tilted it sideways over the cauldron; the bits and pieces of garlic came sliding downwards, spilling into the cauldron with a series of staggered small splashes. He craned his neck to sniff and instantly jerked away- horrendous. He turned to complain to Barty, who had the empathy of the Galleon yet very much kinder than Regulus. But then he remembered that Barty was, in fact, not here. 

“Where the hell is that fucker? It’s twenty minutes in, even if he was late he should’ve showed up by now.”

“Who, Barty?” Regulus asked. 

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“He’s probably just skipping,” Regulus shrugged. “He always does that- and he hates Potions anyway.”

Evan shook his head. “He wouldn’t- the last time he skipped, Dumbledore owled his dad ...don't you remember the Howler he got the next day?”

“No.”

“The one that called him a disappointment? Said he was disgracing the entire family?”

“Doesn’t he get that every week?” said Regulus mildly, and it took every ounce of Evan’s practiced self-control to not strangle him by the neck. It was funny when he took a jab at Barty’s daddy issues, but whenever someone else did, it felt more offensive than amusing.

Perhaps Merlin himself was listening from the high heavens, or the universe decided to cut Evan some slack, but at that very moment, the dungeon door flung open, and Barty came stumbling inside, looking thoroughly disheveled. 

Slughorn, who was critiquing a student’s potion from the back of the dungeon, paused mid-sentence and called out jovially, “Mr. Crouch, I see you’ve finally joined us! Do you have a pass?”

“Yes, sir,” Barty replied, waving a small slip of paper in the air for Slughorn to see. He caught Evan’s eye and winked- forged, then. Not necessarily a surprise (it was Barty, after all), but this was- what? The fifth time in one month? Evan shook his head. Where was his Slytherin sense of subtlety?

Slughorn bustled all the way to the front of the dungeon, taking the note from Barty and peering at it behind his spectacles. Barty waited beside him, his face a smooth mask of calm innocence- but Evan could see him fiddling with the very end of his tie. A nervous tic that was sure to give him away, if Slughorn knew him well. Which he didn’t. 

“Professor Trelawney sent this?” the professor asked, frowning slightly at the note. There was a hint of doubt in his voice, as if he were finally catching on. It would be a grand day indeed if he finally did.  

“Yes, sir,” said Barty seriously. He tugged on his tie, plastering a charming smile on his face. “She broke a crystal ball and I volunteered to help her clean it up- she had another class right after, see, and she needed to get them started on their Dream Journals. I didn’t want her to have to go through such trouble.” Evan had to duck his head and bite his lip to suppress his laughter. Such a blatant lie. He waited for Slughorn to call Barty out, but the old professor was nodding along, completely buying into Barty’s utter bullshit.

“I see,” he murmured, as if he knew what a Dream Journal was (he probably didn’t, Evan thought). “Alright then, let’s get you partnered up…” He looked around the classroom, and Evan held his breath, crossing his fingers beneath the table. “It appears that Mr. Rosier is the only one working alone.”

Evan hid his grin as Barty nodded and replied obediently, “Of course, sir.” He pretended to examine the cauldron intently as Barty walked over, making sure to glance at his Potions textbook as if he were puzzled. But as soon as Slughorn’s back was turned, he glanced up to smirk at Barty, who shoved him in response. 

“Missed me, Rosie?” he asked mockingly, plopping down to sit next to Evan. “I could see you staring.”

“Not particularly,” Evan lied, faking nonchalance- he could feel himself growing uncomfortably hot under Barty’s intense look. “Thought you were done with forgery? What was it you said- a new man, new plan or some shit?”  

Barty pressed a finger to his lips, eyes filled with mirth. “Keep running that mouth of yours, Rosie, and I’ll have to do something about it.” It was just friendly banter, just him firing back, but for whatever reason, the words sent a small thrill down Evan’s spine. 

They locked eyes for a moment, Barty’s cocky smile faltering, and Evan got the absurd impression that they were embroiled in something fragile, delicate. Something easily broken if he wasn’t careful. He held his breath again, not saying anything as Barty’s lips opened, then closed. 

“One of these days, you’re going to get caught,” said Regulus, his voice breaking the spell. Barty tore his eyes away, and Evan considered strangling Regulus for the second time in less than ten minutes, though he wasn’t entirely sure why this time.

“Maybe,” said Barty, who stared straight at Regulus, as if he were pretending not to see Evan. His cheeks were flushed- but Evan didn’t think it was from the heat. “But the teachers here are so slow, I doubt it.” 

Regulus shook his head. “Don’t come crying when you get another Howler.” He jerked his head towards Evan. “This is all your fault. You encourage this shit all the time.”

Barty’s eyes flicked to Evan, then away. “Don’t be pissy, Reg. It doesn’t suit you well- I like you better when you're Mummy's good boy.”

Barty’s words had a surprising effect. “Oh, fuck you,” Regulus growled, making a hand gesture so crude and unlike him Evan had to suppress a snort. He turned back around, apparently done with conversing with the likes of Barty. But maybe it was because that was a sore spot- Regulus didn’t talk about his mother much, but when he did, it was enough for Evan to guess their relationship wasn’t as ideal as he acted like it was. 

Barty stared at Regulus’s back, like he was also recalling this and felt bad for it- but after a moment, he just shrugged and turned to Evan, though still not quite looking him in the eye. “You finished it?”

“Yeah,” said Evan. “It wasn’t too hard, really.”

Barty’s mouth twitched. “Potions prodigy.”

“That’s Regulus, actually.” 

There was a beat of awkward silence. 

“Attention,” called Slughorn from the front of the classroom, with absurdly perfect timing. Evan had never been happier to hear his voice. Perhaps the universe was feeling kind today. “Attention, students!” He waited a few seconds for the chatter to die down, and then continued. “Now, it’s time for the theory part of the lesson. I decided to do it a little differently today, because I wanted to see how well you all know your potions.”

There was a murmur of interest and surprise around the room. In the past six years, Slughorn had always used the more traditional teaching methods. This should be interesting, Evan thought, leaning forward in anticipation. 

“I wrote on the board,” Slughorn pointed his wand at the blackboard, “that this Potion is called the Draught of Living Death. It seems most of you did not think much of it, which is a bit disappointing, I must say, because this Potion that you happen to be brewing right now is not the Draught of Living Death.” The murmurs grew louder. “Does anyone have any guesses as to what it might be?”

Regulus’s hand shot into the air- and his only. Slughorn beamed at him. 

“Yes, Mr. Black?”

“Amortentia,” said Regulus promptly. “The Love Potion.”

His words sparked an almost dramatic outbreak of gasps and giggles. Beside Evan, Barty shifted slightly, and (when he thought Evan wasn’t looking) casted a furtive glance.  

 Slughorn smiled wider, looking pleased. 

“Very good, Mr. Black! Fifteen points to Slytherin.” He waved his wand, and the words Draught of Living Death rewrote itself into Amortentia. “Now, can anyone describe the effects of Amortentia?”

Again, it was only Regulus’s hand shot into the air. “Once drunk, it can allow anyone to become romantically infatuated with another person. Even just one sip can make someone fall madly in love.”

“Very good, my boy! Another ten points!” Slughorn looked utterly delighted “Does anyone know what happens when you smell it? No, not you, Mr. Black, you’ve answered enough.” He scanned the room; students began to slouch or pretend to be absorbed within their textbooks. “Miss Carrow?”

Alecto Carrow was not known for being clever or attentive- in fact, she was probably the dumbest girl in the year (if Evan had to be honest). Which was why it was quite a surprise to hear her answer correctly. “It smells like the person you’re in love with, sir.”

There was another outbreak of snickers in the classroom, accompanied by elbowing and knowing looks. Love. What a stupid thing. Evan almost rolled his eyes. “Settle down, settle down,” said Slughorn, though he might as well have been talking to a class of third years. “Now, the basic theory…”

***

Amorentia theory, as it turned out, was incredibly, devastatingly boring.

 In fact, only Regulus and a particularly nerdy Gryffindor seemed to be remotely interested in it- the rest of the class grew bored within minutes, returning to whispered, idle conversations, paper airplanes, and naps on top of the tables. Even Evan found his attention span wandering; after ten minutes; he resigned himself to doodling along the margins of his textbook.  

He had just finished sketching a large, looming thick skull when he felt a hard poke on his shoulder. “Oi, Rosie,” Barty whispered. Another poke. “Rosie.” A third poke. “Rosie~”

“Tell me, how hard do you have to work to be this annoying?” Evan muttered, dipping his quill in his ink bottle. He began to sketch a rose between the skull’s teeth, his strokes swift and short. He wasn’t an artist, per se, but his skills weren’t awful, and he actually kind of enjoyed it.“Or were you just born like this?”

Barty ignored the jab. “What d’you smell?”

“What?”

Barty gave a huge sigh, as if Evan were extraordinarily stupid. “The amortentia, dumbass,” he said impatiently. “What do you smell?”

Evan set his quill down, frowning. “Why do you wanna know?” he said, for the question seemed rather abrupt and suspicious to him. As far as he knew, Barty didn’t care for petty teenage affairs involving fickle romance. 

“Stop being a dick and just tell me.”

Evan glanced over at Slughorn, who was still deeply immersed in his rambling lecture and blissfully unaware of the lack of response he was receiving from the class. Slowly, he leaned over the cauldron and carefully wafted the fumes into his nose. 

“Smells like…smoke…” he said slowly.

“And?” Barty prompted. Evan took another sniff, and his brows furrowed deeper. 

“And…blood, I think…”

Regulus, who had been listening attentively to Slughorn up until then, chose that moment to twist around in his seat, eyes widening. “Blood?” he hissed incredulously. 

Barty waved him off, eyes glued to Evan. “And?”

Evan, growing bolder, inhaled deeply this time; it took a solid minute to catch even a whiff. 

“...and…strawberries?” The normality of that scent felt the most bewildering of them all. 

“Strawberries?” Regulus echoed. “What idiot smells like strawberries?”

“I dunno,” said Evan. He looked at Barty; he had erupted into a barrage of heavy coughs. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Fuck off,” was the brunette’s response, as if Evan had done something wrong. Barty turned away and began to dig through his bag, even though there was only five minutes left of class. 

Evan scowled and turned back to his drawing of the skull with the rose. Logically, there was nothing wrong with it- it was his best work yet, actually- yet he found himself hastily scratching it out, splotching it with ink until it was nothing but a dark stain. 

***

“Oi, Evan!” Regulus called from the other side of the room. “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

It was late in the afternoon, almost a week after the Amortentia potions lesson- Regulus stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hair freshly wet and rumpled from the shower, clutching an unusually large white envelope in his hand. 

They were the only ones there- everyone else had gone out- whether to study in the library, or go down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin Quidditch team practice. Evan would’ve loved to join his peers, to escape the boredom and blandness of his dormitory, but his pile of homework was dangerously high- two essays, and a Herbology diagram, all due tomorrow. 

“I would mind very much, actually,” he said snidely, glancing up from his Potions essay. “If you can’t tell, I’m busy.” 

Regulus blew out an irritated sigh. “Please, Evan- I need to go send an owl to Lucius Malfoy. You remember him, right? He was a few years above us.”

A memory resurfaced within Evan’s mind, of a pale, blond boy with a pointed chin and a haughty, sneering face. Lucius Malfoy had been widely known for one thing and one thing only- his ability to talk for hours on end, without pause. “Vaguely.” 

“He and my cousin just got married yesterday- I need to send my congratulations, or else Mother will have my head.” Regulus jerked his head towards a small red bottle that sat on Barty’s bedside. “Can you throw that away? It’s Barty’s old shampoo- he switched to cinnamon or some shit, and he asked me right before he headed out to put it in the bin.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the empty space that had once been occupied by the trash bin. “However, as you can see, the bin isn’t here, which means you need to go throw it out in the common room.”

Evan scowled. “The shit I do for you,” he groused as he rose from his seat. He crossed the room in a quick patter of steps, grabbing the red bottle and scowling at it. “What kind of shampoo is this anyway…?” His voice trailed off at the label: strawberry scented. 

He and Barty had hardly talked since the Amortentia lesson; before, he’d chalked it up to the workload that had been steadily increasing over the last few days. But now, as he examined the shampoo bottle, an uncomfortable suspicion began to whisper in his mind.

“Regulus,” he said, slowly. “Why is this strawberry scented?”

Regulus, who was pulling on his socks, paused and frowned, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I dunno- Barty likes strawberries?”

Evan’s heart began to pound very, very uncomfortably- he could feel it all piecing together in his mind, forming a picture he refused to see, to admit was true. Maybe on its own, he could ignore it. But strawberries and blood…it was too big of a coincidence…

“Say, Reg,” he said casually as Regulus began to put on his shoes. “You know where he is right now?”

“Probably out smoking with the Carrow twins- you know how he is. His lungs are gonna be shit before he even graduates.”

Smoking. 

“Why? Something wrong?”

“No,” Evan lied. He turned away, certain he wouldn’t be able to disguise his expression. Especially not to Regulus, who could read faces like books. “Nothing at all- just…curious, that’s all.” 

He waited until he heard the footsteps, and then the door shut. His whole body deflated, and he had to grab the nearest thing- a chair- to maintain his balance. He felt as if his whole world had been pushed off-kilter, like he was falling, floating, and flying at the same time.

Fuck. 

Oh fuck.

He was in love with Barty Crouch.

------------------------

i hope everyone caught the skull + rose reference

[thelakesuite]

The Rusty Lake Story in Bitchass Baby Terms

this is ALL off the top of my head (and i haven't experienced like 10% of it maybe?) so i might be wrong but i don't care right now

the lake itself isn't, like, that well established 'cause it's a mystery game or something so we don't need full exposition. it's some deity-like thing as old as the mammoths (not canon) that eats time. or rather memories that are stored in lil cubes. and it gives its zookeepers immortality so they can keep feeding it. they call themselves the Rulers of the Lake but we all know the truth. 'immortality', or rather enlightenment, is represented by you becoming your fursona and living maybe an extra century. mr. owl's looking for a new heir pretty quick in the process but we'll get to that.

corrupted souls are kinda a byproduct of all this. truly the lake's farts. when a person dies horribly, when their memories get extracted wrong, or when the plot demands it, they become corrupted. corrupted souls still talk, and some of them are even sensible (like your mom oooooh), but generally they're jumpscare beasts or wet little puppies. sometimes both. yes you can get corrupted when you're enlightened, and right now it's the more likely outcome actually. there's a whole 'elixir of immortality' that gets harped on, where one drinker gets corrupted and the other gets enlightened, but that is literally only a thing for roots and a little bit of cave so don't worry about it too much. unless you're making dramatic fanart in which case leverage that shit.

cubes come up a lot in cube escape, believe it or not! black ones are bad memories, white ones are good memories, blue ones are connected to the past in a way that's somehow not a memory, gold ones are connected to the future, red ones only exist in my fangame that ellesian recently unearthed, and green ones are jello yum. also suck it anyone who told me pre-tpw the gold cube thing was unestablished. anyway. it was a big thing mr.'s owl and crow were working on, creating a golden cube (presumably to extend their own lives) as seen in cave, but then one just kinda appears in the past within when albert does electric jujitsu. jury is still out on that.

onto the actual narrative i think.

in paradise, you're mr. owl pre-owling (1790-something). the lake's current suckass servants are your family who tried to sacrifice you to it way back, but your mom took your place for mom reasons. now mom's corrupted and guiding you to... well, to get sacrificed for real this time. but with your powers combined (yes mr. owl was two people, no it is never addressed) you get enlightened and tell your family to fuck off 'cause you're building a hotel on that island now. you also get a tease in the secret ending that dale and laura will do a similar fusion dance to be the lake's next suckass. we've been waiting 6 years for that to happen.

in roots, two alchemist brothers get that elixir shit going (1860-1935). one of them becomes mr. crow, while the other becomes a playable character for a game. and corrupted. you rope your whole bloodline into this, harvesting their body parts (usually after they die from other means, but you totally caused most of their deaths) for a reincarnation ritual involving a magic seed (that also only exists for this game). this is where the best characters come from because rusty lake actually wanted to tell a story with this game. you reincarnate into a woman! don't think about the implications.

in samsara room, the inside scoop of reincarnation is fuckin' weird, dude (1935). the original was made before rusty lake began, so it's not truly part of the narrative, but it got folded in for the fifth anniversary.

in hotel, you do not get the backstory of the third bird man (1890ish). instead, you get to kill mr. owl's family again, but one-on-one as animal people. how did they become animal people? fuck you that's how! mr. owl probably did it on purpose to spite them with shit sandwiches and bullets to the brain. oh, also, there might be an evil twin of mr. rabbit that shows up later.

in arles, you're vincent van gogh. that's it. he's not relevant. but it is funny seing the death date of paul gauguin in the timeline docs.

we're talking about the past within later but the 'past' segment takes place around here. 1926 iirc?

in birthday, your parents get shot (1939). you're going to be an important detective, dale, but like right now you're getting traumatized. or rather you're experiencing that memory, then doing blue cube magic to fix it and have your grandpa shoot evil mr. rabbit instead. is your grandpa actually mr. crow? no. shut up about it now.

in underground blossom, your mom gets abducted (1935-1972 maybe). okay, well, not you. this is the laura backstory metaphor game but you're actually playing as the third bird man who is both her stepdad and her pet. and her grandpa albert takes her mom rose for his own nefarious reincarnation schemes maybe probably. rose is surprisingly okay with it but characters rarely put up a fight with the plot anyway. laura's a lonely kid, starts dating robert, picks up art to soothe her nightmares, gets murked, then reaches some kind of epiphany that we just train ride away from before finding out what actually happens. she's your daughter, damnit, you should support her transcendence. not enlightenment importantly. also, no, laura's life didn't literally happen at train stops, it's just a vehicle. not even a pun don't fucking laugh i see you snickering.

in seasons, you set up a really interesting plotline that gets utterly countered by everything that came after (1960's-80's). it's just laura time in there, and she uncorrupts herself, thank you very much. the series has been struggling with how laura gets her corrupted self to 1980-whatever, and so far only one other game's even taken place after 1972. and that game's the past within which also counters every other plotline. sigh. maybe we're not smart enough for these puzzle games. at least harvey's cute and bird-shaped. key point that's impossible to fuck up is that laura dies in 1972, and it's unclear whether it was a murder or suicide. that's why we get a detective.

in harvey's box and the lake, uh i don't know really (1969). these are early games that are basically spinoffs of seasons. they help with the overarching stuff but aren't much for the narrative at this point. also they suck

in case 23, dale starts investigating laura's death and gets wrapped up in the lake stuff (1972). it was supposed to be just another murder case, but he got too into it and it got too into him, so he gets teleported to the lake chapel and ferried off to. somewhere idk. he goes into an elevator that takes him down memory lane to the lake floor.

in the mill, mr. crow is really trying to clean house before dale gets here (1972). this is where laura gets her ass corrupted by mr. crow, and we find out how the lake eats memories or whatever. it's supposed to overlap with case 23 and it almost succeeds. whatever skrunk is still there is forgiveable, this was the flash era after all.

in theatre, dale learns about ripoff hinduism, goads a man into suicide, and abandons his darling toilet fetus son (1971). it's like birthday again, where this is a memory we're seeing, but that is a light distinction. robert kills himself at the bar, and we take his memories for legal reasons. there's some sixfold wheel we learn about that doesn't matter much.

in the cave, mr. crow still cleans house before dale gets to the Magic Memory Machine (1972). mr. owl's kinda sorta dying, and dale's been elected his son or something. gotta get his mindmeats. you read a textbook about cubes, pilot a submarine to the lakefloor, put dale and laura in a surrogate fusion dance machine, then give dale the golden cube it makes before sending him up the elevator again. hotel did imply something serious was gonna happen when he gets to the top, but that was eight years ago. the devs probably forgot and fell too in love with albert vanderboom in the meantime.

in the white door, robert unkills himself and gets wrong psychiatry (1972). as it turns out, mr. owl has a front business running a for-profit psych ward to extract totally good and healthy memories from people. this one is an actual factual spinoff but is kinda relevant for the greater rusty lake metropolitan area.

in paradox, fuuuuuuuck who knows maaaan, isn't it all just a metaphor? (1972). there's a consensus that none of the stuff that happens in paradox actually happens, and that it's all in dale's head while he's in the Magic Memory Machine from cave. even though there's five different endings, he kinda walks away at the end, which might be the worst ending of the lot. the information's solid though; mr. owl spells out the whole heir thing, there's bits of backstory for dale and laura everywhere. also the movie's sick.

in the past within, albert becomes a mechanical engineer for the sole purpose of making plot armor (1926/1984). yeah, remember that guy from roots? the voodoo murderer who got third-hand alchemy information to make up for his lack of pussy? yeah, he invented a time machine decades ago. and he enlisted his daughter to talk to her past/future self to grow him back to life in 1984. with a gold cube that he somehow got. and somehow his scar is genetically coded in him. and we don't see his wiggly lineart dick. what does he do in 1984? trap his daughter in a time loop then who the fuck knows. he's stuck in his jumpscare beast ways from being corrupted for so long. how did he get corrupted when he was literally buried in the ground and salvaged bones from? next game!

there's an ARG that i never saw a thing of because i hated it, best kept memory. from what i gathered, it was another front scheme for memory harvesting, except in the 2000's. does that mean it's enlightened dale/laura doing this one, since mr. owl presumably passed on the title then turned into a fish? i'd like to know too!

also, a chapter of underground blossom i haven't completed, and a paper-based game coming out within the next two years or whatever. i don't know how much they'll clear up.

toodles!

[nikolai-alexi]

HC that Barty learned the hard way not to fuck with Regulus’ shit whilst he was studying because during their fifth year OWLS prep, a very stressed, sleep deprived, caffeine fuelled, and homicidal Regulus stabbed a penknife through Barty’s hand and into their library table.

Also HC that Barty laughed so hard when it happened he got them kicked out of the library and he had to take the whole table with him to Madame Pomfrey’s. He threw a proper fit when he realised the school had replaced the blood-stained table. He absolutely did not learn his lesson and a similar situation occurred to him again in seventh year.

To this day, the warped silvery scar on the top of his right hand is still his absolute favourite and he takes every opportunity to tell the story and embarrass Regulus, who without fail threatens to do it again “if he doesn’t stop telling that fucking story” but never actually follows through with it.

[seekercallum]

The past two months had been a whirlwind. Cal had been hoping against hope for something to come of open quidditch tryouts, desperate to get out of school and into the league before Seb missed his window to go to Hogwarts like Mac and Ian already had. The offer from the Tornados still felt like a dream. As did the signing bonus, and the house Cal bought with it. The place was sparsely furnished with only what had already fit in the apartment Al had put them up in while Cal was at school, but it was theirs. A room for each of them, plus space for a couch and a dining table they could all sit around, and a backyard the kids were already in love with. He’d ignored Mac and Ian’s protests that it was still summer and arranged tutors for them already, and as soon as his next paycheck came in it’d be going towards Hogwarts supplies. A few more paychecks should cover the first school tuition payment. Things weren’t exactly safe and secure, but they were working their way there. So long as Cal didn’t fuck things up. 

Cal was used to being the youngest on his team. At Hogwarts he’d been the youngest and smallest on the Gryffindor team for a few years, thanks to starting as a first year. He hadn’t even been among the oldest players last year as Captain, still just a fifth year. But they’d all been kids. The first time he’d set foot in the Tornados locker room, Cal quickly became aware that his team was made up of grown men. He hadn’t really expected to get a spot, but he’d needed it, and it was the same drive that made him hop on Al’s stolen broomstick five years ago and made him claw his way onto the Gryffindor quidditch team his first year and that got him invited to open tryouts at all that landed him a position, not just as a reserve, but as a starting player. 

Cal knew that position came with high expectations. With a lot to prove. Already there were eyes on him. It was rare enough for people to leave Hogwarts to play before their Seventh Year, though it happened. Cal had heard of a few who left before Sixth Year to go play in a different European league, even. He’d been offered some tryouts for those teams, too, but he knew leaving the country wouldn’t have worked. But Cal was still a few weeks shy of his sixteenth birthday, and he was playing for the British League. Reporters had already sent owls, and he hadn’t been quick enough to stop Patricia from cashing in on a feature in some quidditch magazine about “the British League’s Youngest Player in Decades.” Humiliating, and Patty spent all the money going out someplace Cal didn’t even want to know about. At least Al had helped set things up so none of those owls could come to the house anymore. Another favor he owed Al for, but that one had been necessary. He’d been worried the whole team would see him as a prat, though if they did they were civil enough. 

But he could feel their eyes on him too at practices. Watching, wondering if he could possibly be so good as to merit being there when he couldn’t even legally do magic yet. For his part, Cal did his best to keep his head down and work, just like he’d always done. He was quiet, serious, only speaking when spoken to, his focus entirely on not screwing up. There was too much riding on this to get caught up with whether the beaters who were a decade older than him thought he was cool or interesting. He didn’t care if they thought he was cool, so long as they thought he could play. He had to show them he deserved to be here. That he could play as well as the scouts thought he could. That he was committed to the team, to the work, and that giving him a shot—and giving his family a shot—had been worth it. And he was slowly proving that, he hoped. It felt like practices were going well, though Cal still felt rather in over his head; the level of play was miles away from Hogwarts, and there was a learning curve to keeping up with such good players for such long hours of practicing. Not to mention coming home and dealing with Patty’s shit and then starting over the next day. But the season wasn’t starting for another few weeks. That would be when he’d really prove whether or not he deserved to be there. And Cal could feel the mounting pressure as the first match drew closer. He couldn’t afford to fuck this up. 

Today wasn’t the first match, but it was an important day all the same. A scrimmage, between the starters and the reserves. Not the first time they’d done something like that, but today mattered more. They’d play it like a real match; the full pitch, as long as it took, everyone going at full intensity. And the owners and executives would all be in the stands watching, assessing, deciding whether they needed to make any changes to the lineup before the season started. Cal was always early to practice, but today he’d planned to be doubly so. He’d never been late yet, but there’d been a few mornings where even with his cushion of trying to be there an hour early he ended up barely on time thanks to Patricia or the Knight Bus’s unreliable schedule. Cal had asked if the Tornados had any floo connection, to which the assistant coach he’d asked had given him a funny look and said he didn’t rightly know because everyone just disapparated. A second later he’d looked at Cal, realized how young he was, and asked if that was a problem, and Cal had quickly assured the bloke that he’d figure out transportation. It wasn’t the Tornado’s fault Cal couldn’t disapparate yet. Or legally do any kind of magic. Al had offered to come by the house and apparate him to the pitch, to which Cal had politely declined. Al had done enough; Cal could do this on his own. The first morning he’d taken Al’s helpful suggestion of calling a magical taxi to get him, but with all of Cal’s other expenses it was too much to do every day. So the Knight Bus it was. Which worked well enough if he got on it early enough and looked appropriately pathetic to the driver, who’d developed a soft spot for him, lucky for Cal. 

But he should have known that on such an important day as today, What he really should have known was that everything would fall apart even more spectacularly than his plan to leave two and a half hours early accounted for. Things went off course almost immediately. Cal had woken up to the sound of Ian trying to have a quiet argument with Patricia in the hallway, who had apparently decided to get up all the kids to ‘wish him well’ or some shit, as if the kids hadn’t wished him luck last night at an appropriate hour. Despite Ian’s best attempts to cut her off—sometimes Cal wondered if that kid ever slept or if he just sat in his room with an ear against the door—Patricia’s loud arguing with him had her desired effect of waking all the kids up anyways, who were tired and cranky. 

Then Patricia ruined breakfast and had the audacity to tell Cal right before he could leave that she’d canceled the nanny because she was there to take care of her kids. Cal was more angry at himself, really, for not seeing that move coming. And for how he reacted, losing his cool and snapping at Patty. Ruby started crying, Seb and Sadie started trying to say it was their fault, and Mac and Ian both argued with him that he should just leave and let them handle things, that it would just be one missed day of tutoring, but Cal had just hired those tutors and who knew how long he’d last on the Tornadoes to actually be able to afford them? Mac and Ian needed all the tutoring they could get. Plus, Cal had promised them that their new house he’d bought with his signing bonus was a new start for them. They would get to be kids now, as much as they could be. It was bad enough they’d have to sort of help the tutors keep an eye on Seb and Sadie, though they were at least old enough they just needed a bit of supervision. He wasn’t going to leave them all with a baby to watch. Or with the house in a meltdown. 

It took way too long to calm things down, even with Mac and Ian helping. Mostly because Patricia kept making things worse, alternating between yelling at them and then playing the victim. Once they finally got her to storm out of the house, notably without the baby she’d taken it upon herself to watch for the day, Cal realized it was far later than he’d planned to leave. Maybe the smart choice at this point would have been to go to Al’s—maybe this exact situation was why Al had insisted on connecting their new house to his by floo when they’d moved—and ask him to take Ruby, and to take Cal to practice, but they owed Al too much already. Cal wasn’t going to show up to ask for a favor barely into the start of the career that Al was basically responsible for Cal having at all. Plus, he had one more option, though it wasn’t ideal either. He’d filed away the knowledge that the Tornadoes had some sort of daycare in the offices—used by the office workers more than any of the players, from what he’d gathered by how it had been brushed over in his tour of the place. It hadn’t even really been part of his tour, just a passing comment as they walked by a cute room with a bunch of tiny tables and chairs. Cal hadn’t wanted to ask at that point, wanting to seem as normal as possible, but he’d planned to find out a bit more in case of emergency. He was kicking himself for forgetting to check in on that, but practices were long and getting their early and staying late and going home to Patricia and the kids every day was taking a toll. He’d dropped the ball, so now he’d just have to hope for the best. It had to be better than leaving Ruby with the kids after he’d promised them all normalcy. 

So instead of showing up to his most important day of practice so far early and focused, he was frazzled, barely on time, with a squirming three-year-old in his arms as he stumbled down the last step of the Knight Bus and realized he actually didn’t know how to get to the offices from the public entrance—he’d always just gone straight around to the player’s entrance. There was definitely a shorter route to the offices, but Cal didn’t have time to get lost. He barely had time to go the long way. Now he’d be lucky if he was on the pitch geared up and ready to go on time. “Shh, Ruby, it’s okay,” he murmured to his little sister, who was squirming for him to put her down only she walked so slow if he did that he’d definitely be late for everything. “Just a few more minutes, alright, and we’ll find you somewhere to play.” He hoped. Maybe he was late enough all the other players were on the pitch and wouldn’t notice him jogging through the tunnels past the locker room with a kid in his arms.

[jimblejamblewritings]

it just sort of... happened | part 1.

Summary: After Hogwarts is turned upside down after Harry Potter started attending, a new normal DADA professor seems like a Godsend.  

Warnings for the Series: age gap age gap age gap (however reader is of age because anything under deserves jail time no exceptions). student-teacher relationship. slow burn because obviously. smut at some point. honestly nothing else. forbidden love trope BUT ONCE AGAIN of age reader

Pairing: remus lupin x reader eventually, professor!remus x student!reader

Word Count: 2.0k

A/N: told y’all I would write the forbidden romance trope. I really just want to try to write it correctly (personal opinion) so i’m taking a stab at it even though this isn’t a trope I really enjoy. Oh and because of the nature of the fic, if you don’t want to be tagged then let me know and I’ll make a taglist specifically for this fic that doesn’t include you

(Series Masterlist)

“Do you think you’re going to miss it?” a voice made you look over.

Cedric was standing in the now open door of your compartment on the Hogwarts Express. You moved over so he could sit down after throwing his trunk on the other seat. The boy picked up your cat who never minded and took her place.

“We still have a two years after this one,” you reminded him.

“But it goes by pretty fast don’t you think? Sixth and seventh year will be done in the blink of an eye.”

You shrugged at your fellow Hufflepuff. You and Cedric had been close since first year but only because Tonks, who was a fifth year, decided that you were both shy and needed friends. You both bonded over late birthdays putting you a year behind and making you a part of the oldest members of first year. Not that other students were complaining. It just meant that you and Cedric would be able to legally purchase alcohol for all the sixth year parties without having to rely on a seventh years’ kindness or having to open the party to them.

You weren’t exactly excited to think about having only two years left at Hogwarts after this one but at the same time the last few years hadn’t been normal. Not that you were blaming poor Harry Potter for anything, but shit got weird when he came in. You were hoping that your fifth year would be normal. And then the Daily Prophet came with a lovely headline about an escaped convict from Azkaban.

Cedric patted your knee as the train pulled into the station. “Save a seat for me, Prefect Duties call.”

“Have fun!”

“I won’t!”

You laughed as you made your way inside and saved your friend a seat. It was funny seeing him take his Prefect badge seriously as he welcomed the new Hufflepuffs. You simply watched him as you put food on his plate for him. Beatrice Haywood smirked as she sat across from you two.

“So when’s the wedding?”

You rolled your eyes and put some food on her plate. You and Cedric’s friends were constantly teasing you guys about your friendship to the point where the whole school started calling you a married couple. Sometimes you both felt bad, the nickname had caused all of your relationships to fail— partners breaking it off every single time. A few times you guys tried to distance yourself from each other but it felt weird having to change your friendship just for partners. You and Cedric had never even kissed on a dare so neither of you felt that any boundaries had been crossed or lines blurred.

Dumbledore’s speech changed every year but you still found yourself zoning out all the same. You loved the Headmaster, you really did. But the beginning speech was just… boring. You only tuned in again when he announced the new teacher for Defense Against the Dark Arts. Both you and Cedric breathed out sighs of relief, so did Beatrice even though she was no longer going to be taking DADA after passing her OWL level and leaving it at that.

“Lockhart was an absolute tosser,” you muttered into your pumpkin juice. “Maybe this year we’ll actually learn from our professor.”

“Oh piss off, you still scored an O on the practice OWL.”

“Because I studied my ass off.”

“I studied too! Barely got an E.”

“Well the O is necessary if I’m going to become a Healer.”

Cedric poured more drink into your cup. “I thought you wanted to be a professor.”

“I’m still deciding.”

He hummed in understanding. Cedric always knew he wanted to be a quidditch player professionally. You were still trying to figure it out. A Ministry job wasn’t for you that much you knew. Teaching seemed nice, you were already used to tutoring fellow students. Being a Healer was also fascinating to you but you didn’t want to work at St. Mungo’s either. And you didn’t want to work in any shops in Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade unless it was a bookstore. You didn’t mind a bookstore. But that left your options limited. Teaching, Healing, Bookkeeping.

Cedric leaned in close to your ear. “You think Professor R.J. Lupin will be a tosser?”

“If he is, I’m handing Professor Dumbledore a resignation letter.”

Your friend snorted and went back to acting like he was paying attention to Dumbledore’s announcements. Naturally, you snuck a bunch of desserts and a bowl of pasta in your robe pockets for you and Cedric to eat at an ungodly hour of the night when he finished his prefect duties. The only reason you regretted not applying for a chance to be a prefect was because they got their own rooms. However, it made it a lot easier to just hang out in Cedric’s room without his roommates there. Not that your roommates had been any better over the years when he snuck in.

“Alright, I’m heading back,” you said as you got off of his bed. His new room was nice.

“Already?”

“Because of Potions I don’t have a free anymore after DADA, I can’t exactly take our usual morning naps.”

“Right you and your NEWT prep class.”

“You could’ve taken it too!”

“I’m fine in normal level. I don’t need more of Professor Snape in my life.”

“Well I don’t either. It’s needed for Healers, you know it’s not too late to switch into it. Please, ask Professor Sprout.”

Many pouts later, you retreated to your shared dorm after unsuccessfully convincing Cedric to switch into NEWT prep Potions. At least, he still took the prep for Defense Against the Dark Arts. You both made your way, arm in arm, to the classroom to see what this new professor was about.

Remus Lupin stopped writing on his chalkboard when he felt a presence in the room. He could roll his eyes for accepting the job from Dumbledore but it was short notice that they needed a good professor after the two years of failed attempts. He shouldn’t have been teaching, not with his condition. At least the pay was good enough that he was finally able to fix up his derelict cottage. And Severus was brewing him wolfsbane. But still.

Already nervous enough, it was awful that his first class of the year was a bunch of fifth years. At least they were Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors. He felt he could handle that first. His eyes wandered over to look at the two yellow-robed students just standing in the doorway. They were early.

He didn’t want to start gossiping about his students already but he was curious if they were together or good friends. If he wasn’t mistaken, they were the so-called married couple he had heard the students talking about. Even without his werewolf hearing, Remus could probably hear the two students’ entire conversation. They were either unaware of how loud they were or didn’t care.

“Hmm, the R stands for Remus. Anyway, middle?” Cedric asked.

“I like the front.”

“Middle front?”

“Where else in the front?”

“That makes us look like we’re trying to kiss his ass.”

“The middle gets too much sun when class is in the afternoon, you know I’m short and it gets right in my eye.”

“We can always switch on those days.”

“But other students get attached to their seats, they might not let us.”

Remus chuckled. “Might I suggest the second row nearest the windows. Surprisingly, it’s the desks by the doors that get all the draft.”

You and Cedric looked at each other. You shrugged your shoulders. “We’ve never sat second row before.”

“Let’s try it.”

Remus felt his nerves calm a bit. If all his students were like you two then maybe he could get through teaching. He went back to writing his lesson plan when a thought hit him. He had done tutoring when he was a student. It would be just like tutoring but with more students at once. The thought kept him calm when the rest of the class poured in. He finally fully faced everyone. They seemed curious? Ready to learn? Maybe he could actually do this.

You actually enjoyed DADA. Of course, you were holding judgment until the month ended. Lockhart had put up a good front at first. Professor Lupin might be just as incompetent. At least he wasn’t evil like Quirrell… or at least he didn’t have Voldemort growing out of his head. You figured you still had to reserve judgment on the evil part until later.

Like DADA, the rest of your classes were also enjoyable. It helped that you had tried to read as much of the material over the summer before school started. If Gryffindor had Hermione then Hufflepuff had you. The sentiment of your classes didn’t end as the first month of school came to a close.

Much to your relief, Professor Lupin continued to seem competent. Dare you say it, he might have actually been a good teacher. You thought that much as you finished your essay for his class while eating the new chocolate mousse that the house-elves had made. You very much enjoyed being their taste tester for new dishes.

It was late at night when Remus dragged himself back into the castle. One month of school down, one full moon down. His Moony Nights weren’t as painful when he had his friends but now he was alone. Considering he was already tired as hell, he probably shouldn’t have gone to the kitchen for some firewhiskey but he really needed a drink. His eyes widened when he saw you sitting at the large kitchen island, spoon in mouth as you scribbled something furiously on parchment. The spoon dropped from your mouth when you looked over.

“Professor, I know it’s technically past curfew but when you think about it the Hufflepuff common room is right next door and the kitchen is practically Hufflepuff extended since the elves told us all the password. Please don’t give me a detention, I’ve never had one, seriously, never which is like really rare for a fift— Chocolate mousse?” You held out the bowl as a peace offering.

Remus looked over. “My essay isn’t due for another week.”

“Oh, I know, but Professor Snape is already trying to drown us with homework so time management is crucial. And Cedric won’t let me skip any of his games for anything… Um, about the detention.”

“Do the house-elves really give Hufflepuff the password.”

You nodded furiously. “Tickle the pear but the trick is it’s always a different pear in the picture each year. This year it’s…”

“The top one,” he answered with you. “They tell all the staff the password too. I guess I can ignore this then, but (Y/N), it’s nearly dawn. A couple of hours past curfew is one thing—”

“If I leave now then it’s technically not proper morning yet.”

You quickly jumped off the stool when Remus stopped you. “The chocolate.”

“Oh, right.”

You handed him the bowl of chocolate mousse but not before sticking two fingers in it to get one last bite. Remus just nodded to himself as you walked off. He began to search for a spoon so he could take the mousse back to his chamber. You reminded him a lot of four rambunctious boys that once used to roam the very same halls. He thanked the elves for the stolen chocolate mousse and retreated back to his place.

“Where’d the chocolate mousse go? And why’d it take you so long?” Cedric asked when you came into his room.

“Professor Lupi—”

“No way! Did you finally get busted? You get detention?”

“No, he let me go if I gave him the choco— Hey!” You blinked after he threw a pillow at your face.

“You should’ve taken the detention.”

You rolled your eyes as you stomped over to him, pushing him over so you could start prepping your side of the bed. Cedric didn’t stop complaining. You could hear him as you took a shower in his private Prefect bathroom that you were in love with. It didn’t stop as you changed into one of his quidditch jerseys and checked on your cat who was sleeping in a cat bed that was set up in the boy’s room. And he was still prattling on as he adjusted you in his arms so you both were comfortable to sleep.

“Ced. I’ll buy you literally whatever you want from Honeydukes tomorrow if you shut the fuck up right now so we can go to bed.”

“What about that new breakfast special at Three Broomsticks?”

“Deal.”

(Part 2)

[halfblood-princes-crown]

Hi this is "severitus with alive Jilly au, unboxing horcrux gone wrong". I'm not going to write this because it will take time and those ideas are basically my good bye letter to this fandom. It's a little painful for me but I know I cannot stay in this fandom anymore. There are obviously more reasons but the main one is because this has been a central part of my childhood and I feel like I just cannot let it be a part of me for an unknown amount of time. I might return to it later in life but this is technically my goodbye to my childhood and me saying hello to adulthood officially (this is also why I'm staying an anon, I don't want to be associated with this fandom anymore, I want a clean break). This took a sad turn, but anyways, returning to the au.

You know the drill, I might also drop in

Bellatrix has a knife to my throat, I don't know what to do, I don't know what to say, I guess I don't have to say anything cuz Ron starts screaming

The rest of the week is kind of a blur everyone is panicking, we're sleeping in the Great hall, my parents come over and for some reason my dad asks what did I do to scare her off and is disappointed to find out I didn't do anything, she just kinda ran away after hearing Ron. My mom is kind of silent, she doesn't say anything, just asks if I got hurt "or something" (why did she say it like that does she not love me anymore?) and they just kind of leave after that, not making sure I was actually okay I wish Auntie or Peter were here instead of them

Snape did make sure I was okay, he gave me a cookie and a awkward head pat. Professor Lupin actually tries to talk to me, I appreciated that, he even offered to tutor me in any spell I wanted and I don't think any of us was expecting me to take up that offer. I had a dream where I couldn't cast a spell, it was called a Patronus and it apparently works against dementors, considering I still can't go outside without hearing children being tortured by a woman in a orphanage (I asked Tom about it and he apparently did grow up in an orphanage and we're his memories, I'm still not sure why am I hearing them but okay, sure, normal Tuesday shit for Harry Potter), I also know that Tom approves of this choice my soul was warmer that usual

Things go of as usual, aunt Petunia actually sends me an owl and that is a big step because usually hates owls.

I may not like being treated like I'm made out of glass by the rest of the school but I gained a new friend, Hermione, she is a little condescending and a little bit too nosey but she is super loyal and is willing to talk about things that Ron isn't ready for yet, like politics and bullies and the unfairness of being put a label on and being expected to act a certain way and how the wizarding world treats those they deam beneath them and how cute Blaise Zabini is and how hot Lavender is becoming. Though she is weirdly against dark magic and I am too, I think, but she takes it to a whole new level and now we are researching dark magic and how negatively it affect our society. I win three to one pro-dark magic.

School goes on and I have a bet with Ron and Hermione about the date of Snape and aunt Petunia's wedding because Spane handed me a letter from my aunt one morning and the Weasley twins said they saw a hickey of Snape's neck. I bet around summer after fifth year and summer before the forth year. Who cares I wasted twenty galleons, I'm rich, especially after my godfather dies.

I master the Patronus charm and leave everyone flabbergasted when I used it spontaneously on a dementor on my way to Herbology.

Somewhere in a tower towering over the school a batty old teacher named Trelawney said in a thousand voices that weren't her own but were: "That boy might as well save himself for Death if he is going to provoke him so, Death always loved a challenge." To bad the only person there to witness that didn't have any idea what that meant and thought that Trelawney was high and made a sexual joke so he laughed, like any 14 year old would, and went back to cleaning fake cristal balls.

The year ended so we went back home and I will spend the first month with my aunt and then head back to my parents. A scream is heard along the train and then another one and another one. Students are running along the hall so I get out of the compartment to see what's going on and a decapitated head (a boy in the year above me, a Hufflepuff), drenched in blood, lands at my feet (the only person who remebers what happens when you peak Death interest the only person who can begin to guess Harry's fate) with a a loud smacking sound and I look up from the blood filled floor and look into the eyes of a faded beauty, Bellatrix fucking Lestrange, in all her twisted glory.

The smiles at me, it's a gentle smile, it's the smile that a mother gives her child when their being endearing or funny, it's surprisingly... fond. "I finally found you again, my beautiful little doll." He grabs my collar with surprising force and forcefully drags me to a corpse filled compartment and the last thing I see before the window shatters behind me is her motherly smile.

'At least I can't lose the bet when I'm dead' is my last thought before pain erupted from my head and my back as hundreds of glass shards find their painfull home in my back.

Sorry for the wait, it took me 45 minutes to write this to make it quality to make up for my drunk ramblings last time, and don't worry, despite the cruelty I'm putting Harry through, he'll survive it somehow, he's a though little cookie.

Love you and your blog! Say hi to your wifey for me!

Oh! Well I’m proud of you for letting go! I’ll miss your asks!

Your idea is so good and I adore it!!! It was great that you put it out there before leaving! It’s very well thought out and I love the plot! You put some good thought into this.

You guys really inspire me to write.

“Thought that Trelawney was high and made a sexual joke, so he laughed” 😭😭 relatable

This ^ had me in tears ngl 🤣🤣🤣 Blaise is cute…and Lavender is hot…no lies here

@moonlightdancer26 my anon says hi ☺️

Miss you 🥹

[stupidstrawberrystars]

How I think the marauders came up with their nicknames:

(This is half way through fifth year and half way through making the map btw. They became animagus last summer- end of fourth year) 

It all starts Monday evening.

“Right, I’ve got my book from the common room, wanna play chess while James has his shower Pete?”

Peter nods and they get to playing. Sirius is relaxing on his bed. James’ shit singing is a suitable faint background noise for his stupid head right now.

For some dumb reason, he hasn’t been able to take his mind of Remus all day (or his eyes- it’s getting bad- he’s literally staring at his fucking hair and back now). 

James emerges from his shower and does his usual belly flip onto Sirius’ bed. He’s still wet from the shower and he would be pissed, but it’s common to have James invade his space now. It’s nicer than having a brother who never comes anywhere near him. 

“Still mooning over Remus then?”

He never should’ve admitted that he fancies Remus. They’ve been treating him like some chick with a crush ever since. 

“Alright James, at least let me be moony in peace.” He rolls his eyes and gets up to go occupy Remus’ bed (only because it’s free and James wouldn’t dare sit on his bed while soaking wet… and he’s not sat there because it smells of him or because it’s weirdly soft or because his jumpers here and- fuck maybe he is acting like some girl).

As he falls onto Remus’ bed, James springs off Sirius’. He’d better not come near him again.

“That’s it! Moony. Remus, your nickname will be Moony.”

They’ve been trying to think up nicknames as they’re working on the map now and want to brand it with more than just Marauders. 

“Alright that’s not too bad.”

Although now every time he’s uses Remus’ nickname he’s going to remember this moment. He’ll never get Moony out of his head now.

But they all look too happy to debate it, and it does suit Remus. 

So Sirius smiles and lets himself indulge in a moment of peace (you know, before more pranks and OWLS and all that shit).  

“Pete that was marvellous! Getting away from Filch as a rat, just be careful next time, that cat got too close to your tail for my liking.”

James is right, Pete was brilliant. They were borrowing (stealing) supplies from Slughorns cupboard for their next prank, James had the cloak and Sirius and Peter had the map, but no way of escaping.

“Distracting the cat saved my butt too Pete. Did its claws reach you, you alright?” He looks alright. He looks ecstatic. 

“Oh i’m alright.”

“Don’t forget to be careful, you all could end up priso- Azkaban. Man it’s so dumb you magic idiots only have one jail in Britain. Anyway, my point is, be careful.”

“Oh Moony it’s nice of you to worry but dearest Pete here would never be so dumb to get himself caught and stuck in Azkaban of all places. Sounds more like a me thing to do, to be honest.”

Pete’s been getting a lot better at lying recently. He’s an essential part of the marauder pranksters (he’s still an annoying pushover though, but they’re training it out of him). 

“Alright. Just don’t lose your wormy tail Pete.”

Sirius sees Pete smile and lock eyes with James. They still have that ridiculous childhood friend idea, connection, mind reading bullshit from first year. 

“Wormtail!” They both yell at each other.

”Oh Moony you’ve done it! You’re a dream. Peter you are now officially Wormtail.” 

Huh?

“Erm mate, are you sure that’s the nickname you want?” Yes Remus, that’s exactly what Sirius is thinking.

Peter looks to James, and to his friends, and nods.

Alright then.

“Now just us two need nicknames.” 

“Yep. Just you two idiots. The deer and the ghost dog.”

“I’m a stag-“ “Ghost dog?” 

For two people who constantly finish each others sentences, Sirius and James also talk over each other a lot. But it’s worth it to see Remus roll his eyes fondly at them.

“James a stag is a deer. And Sirius, your animagus form looks exactly like the black dog from folklore. A ghost that appears all around Europe and America. They’re either death omens or guardians, I guess you’ll have to pick which one you’ll be.”

He’s obviously a guardian, no one protects Remus better than him (you’re a death omen Black… don’t forget The Prank).

“Well I don’t know about calling you ghost… Did those dogs have other names?”

“Yeah… near Sheffield is a place called Leeds. My grandparents lived there. The town has a local version of the legend, it’s known as Padfoot.”

Padfoot…

“I like it. Sirius you are dubbed Padfoot.”

“I want a nickname!” It’s literally the middle of the Great Hall and James is being a prick. Not that that’s uncommon, just usually his craziness is directed at Evans.

“James, we’ll get you a nickname.” Sirius can’t help being slightly annoyed now, he’s rejected everything they’ve thought up. Ok admittedly only Sirius and Pete have tried, Remus deemed it impossible after watching the fifth reject of a perfectly good nickname and chose not to participate in this very weird game.

“I want something good. Come on.”

Sirius beside him to Remus with desperate eyes, and all he gets is a mocking laugh.

”Do I have to do every nickname but my own? Really Pads?”

Sirius falls just a little more every time Remus shortens his nickname.

“James-“ Peter puts his arm up as protection since he’s stuck next to James, who’s swinging his arms in frustration while still clutching a fork. “Be careful with that would you?”

“Oh, sorry Wormy. My bad.” 

Luckily, before Sirius has to intervene, something very, very shocking happens.

“James stop. You’re going to take someone’s eye out. Besides, you’re wrong, why would you want a nickname from these guys if the one Peter got is Wormtail?” Sirius is pretty sure he freezes when Lily, who’s sat on the other side of Remus, joins the conversation. Before he can even insult her for interrupting (and yes his mouth is already open to say something) Remus has his hand on Sirius’ thigh and looks over at him and then winks. 

“Oh? Just pick James’ nickname for us Lils. Then he’ll finally shut up about it.”

Oh he’s a genius. Sirius’ brain is still half-fried from the hand that’s still on his leg (it doesn’t need to be anymore, but it still is) and so he barely notices as Lily rolls her eyes, and declares,

“Potter put down the fork. For fucks sake, just be called Prongs or something.” 

Sirius’ eyes whip to meet Remus’ where they engage in a silent battle debating whether she knows his animagus form or is just making a joke about the fork he’s holding. They settle on it’s probably just a coincidence.

And since Lily said it, James is in love and they have their nicknames.

“Well then. I guess we are officially Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.” 

Sirius feels himself smile. When he first came to Hogwarts, he didn’t expect to meet people who’d change his life this much. And there’s still so many more years to come. 

Oh and in case you’re wondering… yeah… Lily Evans knew. 

Lily Evans knew about the deer. She played it off, but she knew. She knew about the dog. She knew about the rat. She obviously knew about the werewolf. She even knew about the map they were making and the cloak they wore- she’s a muggle after all, and in her world the sound of footsteps means someone’s there, and not just another magic trick, so she put it all together pretty fast.

Lily Evans has had a weight on her shoulders since being shunned from her family, so she learnt everything she could about the wizarding world since she knew it’d be the only place she could have a valuable future. 

And yes, she knew about the war, she knew the years after Hogwarts weren’t going to be easy. 

So what’s the problem with some mischief, it’s not like she wants credit… but Remus has been having some trouble with one of the rooms… and she has an idea on how to record it on their map. 

They still have time until OWLS, and then NEWTS after that. Plenty of time to be young and free before…

oh well, it’s nothing to worry about now, is it?

After all, that’s what Dumbledore tells her whenever she asks.

[tiredsoundsofagnes]

the first week of the year has gone past us! i want to start documenting and using tumblr as some type of diary - so here's a lot of pictures and writing about the week!!! if you all find it interesting then i'd gladly post more stuff like this (i will do it anyways but i want to know if its fun to read or not??) OK HERE IT IS:

me n my beloved before the first indie club! very cute very cute in my opinion >:) i was a bit nervous since this was the first club of the year and there was gonna be like. A LOT of people since it was the only club open in this bastard city.

speakin of cute... heres us right before i started playing! first pic is adorable and i look goofy but happy in the second one. who knew a goth and a twee kid could fall in love?! this was actually their first indieclub EVER (they do NOT like indie though so it makes sense...)

very tired outside the club... drinking the first trocadero can of the year (thanks to my friend axel) this was the fifth of january (or technically the 6th since it was 4 am)

then we went home, slept like angels until 1 pm, ordered pizza, kept watching the owl house and just enjoyed being around eachother. i have never been this in love before and it feels like ive met the love of my life? more about that in the future...

on to the 7th of january... this was a DJ set at a new "rock" restaurant. i have eaten there once before and it was really really cool, they only played REALLY good indie. they hit me up on instagram and were like "hi we have heard you are a super good dj, we want you to have a club in our bar" and i was like DAMN OK. i invited a bunch of pals and played for five hours! IT WAS SO SO SO FUN??? there was no dancefloor so the focus was on singalong...

here was my outfit before it got hellishly hot! twee as fuck! my swaged out computer and its stickers right by my side...

SILLY PIC OF ME AND MY BELOVED MID SET! idk how they can be so cute but hey thats life innit mate...

me and my friend simon during the last song of the night... my friend was like HEY LETS TAKE AN INDIE SLEAZE PIC and we were like YES. the white stuff on the tip of my nose was from kissing my partner. the struggles of loving a goth huh....... anyways simon is a legend, we met through going to the same indie clubs and connected because we are always the most energetic dumbasses in the dance floor. he always bombs me with love when i play and says stuff like "YOU ARE THE BEST DJ IN TOWN" and it was my silly little heart <3

we catched the last bus home and slept until late. the next two days consisted of me and my partner (oh yeah their name is tilda hi) being in bed watching dumb shit and being cute. we baked a pizza and it owned. they took the train to their stupid little town and we cried. we might see eachother very soon though, ill keep yall updated!

THAT WAS THE FIRST WEEK! THANKS FOR READING IF U DID!

[thecarrcwheir]

IN CHARACTER

Character name: Amycus Carrow

Birthday: May 27th, 1956. Geminis sun, Sagittarius moon & Geminis rising 

Blood Status: pureblood

Gender & Pronouns: male, he/him

Occupation: Heir, entrepreneur, owner of The emerald night club

Sided with: Death Eaters

Faceclaim: Theo James

ABOUT THE CHARACTER

SCHOOL

School: Hogwarts

House: Slytherin.

Extra curricular: Duelling club, Slytherin Beater.

BIO

GROWING UP

Ah, to be the male heir of a respected pureblood family. Amycus Carrow came to this world first and first he would remain for everything. His father’s pride and joy, the one who would carry on with the family legacy. Anything Amycus wanted, he got it; all he had to do was ask for it… or take it if people got fussy. 

Amycus grew up believing that he was more important than he actually was, his father made sure to inflate his ego and sweet talk him about him being the heir. At first it was all a game, funny even, but as he grew up, he noticed how different the treatment was for him than for his sister, who was as much of a Carrow as he was.  He was the male heir, yes, but deep down he always thought that his sister was the superior twin, even if his father couldn’t see that.

As any wealthy pureblood child, Amycus received nothing but the best tutors. Did he enjoy it? Well, no, not really. He would much rather be outside playing quidditch. But that didn’t stop him from learning everything he needed to know and what was expected of him. 

The first time he heard the word betrothal, Amycus was seven and he thought it was an annoying word because he couldn’t pronounce it correctly. However, that was also when he first realized that it wasn’t all great, that being an heir also came with responsibilities that he didn’t ask for.

As a child, he wasn’t the most pleasant one, but he never gave it too much of a thought; he had his sister and he didn’t need anyone else. His connection with Alecto is a strong one. He could validate every single myth being said about twins. He and Alecto don’t need words to communicate, just one look. Amycus could tell so many things about his sister’s mood with just glancing at her. No woman would ever be as important to him as his sister and that is something he made his peace with from a very young age.

START OF THE WAR

tw: drugs

As expected, he was sorted into Slytherin. School was fun, he got to meet new people, organize the best parties, play quidditch and knock some righteous Gryffindors from their brooms during matches. He was a King and life was good. Academically speaking… well, Amycus wasn’t necessarily the smartest person out there, but he was resourceful and there was always some nerd willing to make some extra galleons. That is how Amycus passed most of his classes. Naturally, when it came to exams, he would study enough to get a decent grade and that was just it.

However, the real change came during his fifth year. With the OWLs, the pressure was on and he needed more than studying to pass, he needed a shit ton of luck. So Amycus being Amycus, got that luck in liquid form. That was his entrance door to the world of drugs.

As the years progressed, everything in his life intensified: from the war harboring outside (not that he had any doubts on where he stood), the school pressure, and his father pressure to be the Heir he was expected to be. Amycus wasn’t used to having people demanding things from him, he was the one that did the demands; and pressure never suited him right. That he had to get married, that he needed to have kids, that he needed to have good grades in order to get a good job. As if Amycus ever wanted to work, please. With the years that pressure turned into aggression and unpredictable behavior, but he was smart enough to keep it under that charming facade of his when necessary. 

There was so much violence within him that he became a great weapon for the Dark Lord. Some people do therapy, others do yoga, but Amycus Carrow joined the Death Eaters in hopes to get the green light to release all that anger inside of him.

PRESENT TIME

Amycus didn’t get any fancy job at the Ministry, he would rather drown himself in the depths of the Black Lake than work in an office filled with mediocre people. Instead Amycus did what he did best: he spent his father’s money on parties. At first he attended said parties, but later he began to organize them and they were so unbelievably successful that he decided to open his own nightclub. It seems that he wasn’t as useless as he thought he was.

At the moment, he’s still dodging the whole betrothal thing since he has no desire to get married yet, but he knows his time is limited. In the meantime, he focuses on his job for the Dark Lord as well as his nightclub. The Emerald is his safe heaven and is as exotic and fun as any event organized by Amycus. Each night is unique, from air acrobats to unicorns, no one knows what to expect each night.

He’s also tending to some of his father’s businesses and he’s doing better than expected. None of that really appeals to him, but that's where the big money comes from and he’s smart enough to know that he has to keep it coming. He occasionally likes to invest in different businesses and he may or may not run some not so legal gambling houses.

CONNECTIONS

Future fiancée

Secret guilty pleasure: a muggleborn/order member he grew fond of throughout his life and is willing to protect.

Friends with benefits

HEADCANONS

tw: drugs

Amycus is bisexual, he’s an hedonistic being and does not care about labels.

He often consumes drugs.

His nightclub is his favorite place to be. In there, there are no taboos nor judgment and while it’s a very exclusive place, it’s not impossible to get in.

In spite of not wanting to get married, Amycus is a family man and he would do anything to protect his own.

Alecto is the single most important person in his life. He would do absolutely anything and everything for his sister.

[yazpadfoot]

Hello!! I was hoping for a platonic ship and a romantic ship if that’s alright?

I use she/they pronouns and go by Jean. I'm fair skinned with a(n annoying) natural blush and faint scatter of freckles over my cheeks, at a height of 5'2" with extremely wavy, brown hair that reaches a little past my shoulders with a single bleached blonde strand; I usually have it down or up in braided updo's. I have round hazel green eyes, typically blocked by my rounded gold wired-framed glasses (which I would be absolutely blind as a bat without them) and on occasion I'll wear mascara and/or lip gloss (the lip gloss is more common). I have one regular piercing with two cartilage hoops on my right ear, and three regular piercings on my left ear, and I'm typically never without my moonstone key necklace. My wardrobe definitely leans towards a dark academia/dark cottagecore vibe, with lots of button-ups, vests, cardigans & crocheted or thrifted sweaters, slacks, flowery dresses, blouses.

I tend to keep to myself the majority of the type unless someone catches my attention, or if someone that doesn't have an overwhelming presence strikes up a conversation with me. I'm kind of quiet at first, but once I've become close with someone, I'm very energetic/talkative and somewhat chaotic, and very physically and vocally affectionate. I get overwhelmed really easily and will quickly seek comfort from those I'm close with, mostly by me drawing or tracing my finger on the palm of their hand, or just hand-holding in general. I have a very sarcastic/smart-ass kind of humor; being a little shit is very fun, can confirm. I love gift-giving very much and am the type of person to randomly buy or make a gift for people I care about. I'm INFJ and a Capricorn. When I have free time, I tend to spend my time reading (my favorite books being mostly mysteries/thrillers or fantasy adventures), writing, drinking tea, napping, crocheting/embroidering/cross-stitching, baking, binge-watching my favorite shows (basically a lot of "old lady" hobbies lol), and while I typically like to be off on my own, I also really like at least being in the same room as my loved ones, we don't have to be doing anything together as long as we're both there. When I do want to do things with people, I love card games & board games, having deep conversations (literally my favorite thing), and writing/reading together, or even just watching a movie/show together. Also, I love car rides, but only when I'm not the one driving. When I do feel up to going out and about, I love libraries/book stores, thrift stores, and I really wish I could go to museums more often. I’m into acting and theatre, though considering working behind the scenes in script-writing. That was pretty long, I apologize 😅. I hope you have a good day!! <333

Hey :)

You seem really cool and to be honest we have same ' hobbies of old lady '

Platonic relationship - I couldn't decide between Mary and Marlene so I have this solution. You met Mary first time on train and you talked a lot. She was quite opposite of you, because she was confident with people she didn't know. When she got sorted in gryffindor you both started hanging out with Marlene and became besties. In nights you often sneak out of your bed and you go to Marlene's or Mary's bed. In fifth year you all joined Remus' studying group because of OWLs. You are also good friend with Marauders.

Romantic relationship - I think you and James would make awesome couple. He liked you since third year and was really loud about it. You first time went to date in fifth year, because you thought he's just joking and messing with you. He's absolutely romantic and he gives you little gift like he sees a pretty flower so he picks it up and gives it to you, if he's in shop without you he always buys you something. When you have birthday or it's valentine or you just something happened he throws big party for you but always end up leaving with you somewhere where is quieter and just you two. You are his angel, he loves how funny, caring and loving you are to people that matter to you. He also loves to play with your hair and he understands your problems with glasses. (I understand too because I'm blind without mine)

Hope you like this xxx

[zefyre]

Excuse me? How could I miss any of your updates xD?!? Cheking in regulary and the new pfk one s just so swoon worthy! I love how you wrote the whole thing, And you are ofc right, the jelly thing would be more like James (maybe at first just teasing her how he is jelly, then really becoming jelly and last stage would be scared that she does leave dumb him? lol now I want a fic with james becoming jelly! *pretty pls?*). Ugh I loved how you wrote it so much! Cant wait for raising the stakes tbh

aksjhdfd i’m!! so sorry!!! / cries/ this has been sitting in my inbox for almost a year and i started it back when you sent this but couldn’t manage to finish until today when i stumbled onto it in my docs and decided to try again. thank you for your sweet words btw haha, i hope you see this and enjoy~

.

It started when James found Kagome muttering almost furiously one day, a letter in hand and a flush across her face. 

She hadn’t noticed his approach, so distracted by her letter she was, and he felt his curiosity grow to a point where he couldn’t help himself. He casually strode past her, a growing smile on his face when he did so undetected, before he backtracked to sneak up on her. 

Once close enough, James hooked his chin over her shoulder as he simultaneously grabbed onto her hips to hold her steady, so he didn’t get clipped in the chin if she jolted. 

A chuckle escaped him when not only did Kagome jump as he predicted, but she also let out the most adorable squeak, slapping the letter against her chest – an act that piqued his curiosity even more, as if she had something to hide.

“Wotcha reading?” he drawled, resting his head against the side of her own, only to draw back when he saw the flush on her face darken out of the corner of his eyes. His grin grew, a trickle of giddiness trickling up his spine at the sight of it spreading all the way down her neck. “Oh ho ho,” he said with a breathy laugh, “This wouldn’t be from a secret admirer now, would it?

He laughed in earnest when her face twisted in an expression of mortification, a whine escaping her throat. “Well that’s a yes,” he sniggered. He raised a hand, wiggling his fingers pleading. “Are you gonna let me see it?”

With a long-suffering sigh and a reluctance that one would think she was signing over her life, Kagome surrendered the letter, holding it out for James to read. Unable to witness the deed with her own eyes, she shut them and leaned her head back against James’ shoulder to save herself from the grief.

James eagerly scoured the letter and soon realized with a bubble of delight that Kagome’s reaction wasn’t an overreaction – the bloke actually opened the letter with some of the cheesiest poetry he’d ever laid his eyes upon. 

“To my dearest angel, with eyes so faire, even the stars cannot match the luster of your stare,” James tried reciting with somber flair – he managed up until the word “luster", breaking out into pained wheezes trying to hold back his mirth. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, no more reading aloud,” he choked out when he saw the tell-tale twitch of her eyebrow and the tightening grip she held the letter,  and knew if he kept it up she would looked ball up the parchment without hesitation. “Okay, okay, phew.” As he read on, his smile diminished once he got past the cheesy poetry and the letter took a more earnest turn. “You know him well?” he wondered absently as he continued to read, not knowing why that surprised him so much, and not wanting to know why that idea..  niggled at him, either.

He thought it was just some anonymous, star-struck underclassman writing her, to be honest, but the letter was now talking about a meeting they had in the summer. 

Kagome let out a sound that was a cross between a sigh and a hum. “For a few years now, yeah… He’s a good friend of Inuyasha’s brother. We met over… the summer after fourth year, I think it was, when we happened visit them at the same time.”

He glanced at her, blinking owlishly. “I didn’t even realize Inuyasha had a brother.”

Kagome snorted. “Half brother,” she explained,  “He’s a couple years older and they get on like cats and dogs. He also went to Durmstrang, where he met Kouga.”

“And he’s been sending you these things ever since?” James asked, taking her hand and waving the letter in the air before stopping short, mouth dropping open as realization hit him. He sputtered, laughter bubbling in his chest, “No, no, no, this isn’t the same guy that sent you that singing howler on Valentine’s day in fifth year, is it?

James all but exploded in laughter when Kagome groaned and buried her face in her hands. “You got detention for a week for setting that thing on fire in the middle of the hall!” he crowed, hugging her tightly to his chest in lieu of clutching his stomach, his head folding over her shoulder.

Kagome began to bang her head back against his chest, repeatedly. “That was so embarrassing,” she groaned, sinking against him. “The detention was worth it to get it to stop.”

“Merlin,” he muttered, still laughing, “I think I might be a little jealous,” he teased, pouting his lips at her.

“Don’t be.” Kagome said it so bluntly that it made him laugh again. “I tried telling him I’m not interested but he never really listened. I think he was hanging on in the hopes that I’ll give in one day.”

Now that made him frown. “Not bloody likely,” he muttered, unconsciously pulling her snugger against his chest. 

Kagome grinned and reached up to give him a little pat on his cheek in reassurance. “He’s harmless, if a little pushy maybe,  but I think he does it mostly to get on Inuyasha’s nerves. Now they really hate each other.“ Instead of pulling her hand away, she used it to cup his cheek, sweeping her thumb along the curve of his cheekbone. “Since he found out about you, it’s now like a jokey tradition kind of thing,” she explained, rolling her eyes to add, “Still bloody embarrassing though.”

James felt something in his chest settle then. “Oh,” he said a a small laugh, perhaps a little too relieved, and his chest puffed out a bit. “You told him about me?” he cheesed, feeling smug.

Kagome burst out into a bout of snickering. “More like Inuyasha gloated in Kouga’s face first thing that he lost his chance when we both visited this past summer.”

James was pleasantly surprised Inuyasha did that for him – after all, they got off on the wrong foot last year and things had been awkward around each other ever since, which made the moment’s they crossed paths in the tower uncomfortable to be sure. “He did that?” The ‘For me?’ unspoken, only to have his spirits dampened when Kagome snorted and shot him a look of pity. 

Not for him then.

“They really, really don’t get along,” Kagome explained, laughing once more.

.

.

Kagome continued to receive the letters, but after some time she began to keep the correspondence to herself. They weren’t cheesy love letters, she’d tell him, but more personal in nature and as such it didn’t feel right to share with others. 

James completely understood of course, didn’t mind, but he would be lying if he said there wasn’t a… discomfiting feeling that took to stirring inside his chest whenever he witnessed a certain owl delivering letters to Kagome, one that only grew over time when the letters increased in frequency – when he’d spied the soft smile blossoming along her lips upon reading said letters. 

It got worse when Valentine’s came and she received a package – a gift, more sincere than the obnoxious ones of the singing variety she’d gotten in the past: her favorite flowers and special chocolate truffles imported from France along with another letter that made her smile bright and laugh a flattered sort of laugh and even blush the faintest shade of pink.

The burning in his chest only eased slightly when a Howler came three days later and Kagome immediately panicked, arm whipping out, wand in hand, and lighting it up into flame before the owl could even properly take off from the table – causing a chain reaction of the owl shitting in fright on a fifth year, the tablecloth catching fire, and three sixth years getting drenched with pumpkin juice in a failed attempt to put it out.

Fifty points were deducted that night from Hufflepuff, and Kagome earned herself two weeks worth of detention for the spectacular display.

.

.

It all eventually came to a head one day in the middle of Hogsmeade when James stopped short at the sight of a handsome man with long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and striking blue eyes down on one knee in front of Kagome, one hand cradling her left while his other held out something that glinted bright in the rare sunlight.

“Holy shite, is that guy proposing to Kagome?” Sirius choked out from beside him, equally rendered stunned at the scene, but James could barely hear him over the roar in his head, over the heavy, rapid beat of his heart in his ears, over the monster that grew in his chest at the sight of someone proposing to Kagome.

Over the deafening thought that he wanted to be the one to propose to her, and the… the anger he was taken aback to find simmering hot and foul at the bottom his belly at the simple, and yet mind-blowing fact that he wasn’t the one do it first.

He was just about to turn on his heel and run away, afraid of the scene before him and even more terrified of the turn his thoughts had taken, when a sharp smack echoed out loud the street. His head snapped up to stare wide-eyed at Kagome’s hand still raised and the man’s head turned at an exact ninety degree angle.

“This is not funny!” James heard her shout, her voice strangled and frantic, tinged with disgust as she went on to say, “Put that thing away!”

And to his utmost shock, the man threw his head back in laughter and did as she asked, snapping the velvet box shut and shoving it back into his trouser pockets as he clambered back up onto his feet. 

And, to his ever mounting surprise, pull Kagome into a bear hug that while she didn’t completely accept, she didn’t exactly fight him off like he thought she would either.

Now, James found himself striding closer to the pair, unable to ignore the growing, curiosity gnawing his chest. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, old habits die hard,” James overheard the man say, still laughing. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re as bad as Miroku proposing to Sango every weekend.”

“Hey, she gave in eventually didn’t she?”

Kagome refused to deign that remark with an answer. “Now get off me you big oaf, you know I have a boyfriend. He’s gonna have a heart attack if he hears about some strange bloke proposing to me in the middle of Hogsmeade!”

Striking blue eyes caught James’s and he was startled to see a hint of fang in the smirk the other man flashed.  “Oh,” he chortled, not even bothering to keep his voice quiet. In fact, he projected it so James could clearly hear him. “I don’t think you have to worry about the rumors getting to him first – he wouldn’t happen to be the tall bloke with the glasses coming just now would he? Cause he’s giving me quite the evil eye.”

Instantly, Kagome’s hand snapped out to start wrapping him against the arms to release her, which he did a chuckle, arms steering wide.

Once free, Kagome whipped around, the familiar look of mortification whenever it came to a certain Durmstrang graduate clear on her face, and he already knew what she was going to say.

“James!” she said, a little breathless and on a nervous laugh. “This is, haha, this is Kouga. I’ve told you about him.” She sounded honest-to-Merlin at her wit’s end at that last part.

James crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Am I going to have to duel him for your hand in marriage?” He looked over Kagome’s head to lock stares with Kouga as she suddenly choked. Despite his snarking tone, his gaze was uncharacteristically serious. “Cause I will.”

“What is this, the dark ages?” she sputtered, before waving her hands hastily between them, “And there will be no dueling because that was just his idea of. Of a Joke.” She turned to give Kouga a filthy glare when he shifted a little uneasily behind her, adding in a much darker tone, “A bad one.”

James broke out in an easy smile that still held a bit of edge. “Oh I know,” he said pleasantly, sounding all light-hearted now, even as he smile turned a little smug. “I could tell by the slap. I think even kids in Hogwarts could hear it, it was a beautiful one, love.”

Kagome’s head tipped to the side to study him, and it was the uncertain look that crossed her face that had him inwardly sighing and backing down. He strode over, dropping a reassuring kiss on her temple as he passed her before offering his hand to the older man. “James Potter,” he introduced himself. He also offered a half grin, “I’d say nice to meet you, but, I just saw you propose to my girlfriend.”

“Kouga,” he introduced himself laughing a little, a little nervous. “It, uh, it really was a joke,” he said, taking James’s hand and shaking it. “The ring’s actually for my girlfriend. Fiancé. Hopefully, if she accepts that is.”

“And she will,” Kagome chimed in, giving Kouga another stink eye, “So long as she doesn’t murder us both if she ever hears of this.”

Kouga waved her off with a robust laugh. “She’s in Japan visiting family, she won’t know a thing!”

“She always knows,” he heard Kagome mutter, watching as Kouga suddenly gave a deep wince when she continued to say, “She knew about Valentine’s,” which was when James realized the Howler from back then must’ve been from his girlfriend instead of Kouga and… and that Kouga must have been dating her even that far back. 

Louder, Kagome went on to say something about how Kouga started writing to her about this Ayame, his hopeful fiancé to be, asking for advice and sharing about his ideas to propose, all which James heard but didn’t quite take in completely as he was slipping back into his thoughts.

This meant, that this whole time, the growing… growing jealousy that he’d felt – he couldn’t deny what it was now that he knew – seeing Kagome with the letters… all that worry had been for nothing…

Merlin, he felt like a bloody idiot. 

.

.

It wasn’t until after Kouga left, treating them all to lunch – Sirius included, who had hung back, fists at the ready for the moment James needed him to jump in to help kick the arse of the bloke trying to propose to his best mate’s girl – for his self-admitted “dumbarse stunt” before taking the Floo back to his flat, that Kagome confronted him. 

“James?” he heard her quietly prod, felt her nudge him gently against his side. He turned to see her looking up at her, “Everything alright?”

James sighed, managed a small smile to reassure her, before turning to Sirius to ask for a moment alone with Kagome. He caught on quick, clapping him on the shoulder before getting up and making his way to the bar. 

When he turned back to face Kagome again, he found her worrying her bottom lip. With another sigh, this one fond, he reached up with his thumb to gently tug her lip away from her teeth to save it from further abuse. “It’s not your fault,” he told her with genuine honesty, taking her hand and intertwining their fingers, “I’ve just been a bit thick lately and hadn’t realize it until today.”

“Kouga,” Kagome guessed, and correctly at that. James nodded, squeezing her hand. “I never realized the letters upset you, I’m sorry, James, if I did…”

She trailed off when he shook his head, squeezing her hand more insistently this time. “No, no, this was all me, getting into my own head, seeing things that wasn’t there and never… speaking up about it. I’d thought…” he trailed off, with a rueful, self-deprecating laugh as he confessed, “I’d thought the letters were working on you, I guess. I saw you get them, and how you’d… laugh, or even blush, and built it up to something it clearly wasn’t.” 

James reached up with his free hand to tuck a fallen curl out of Kagome’s face and behind her ear, pressing a kiss against her furrowed brow to smooth it out  smiling when it worked and Kagome leaned into his touch. “Never once realized I was jealous until I saw the bloke today, down on one knee in front of you and a pretty impressive rock in his hand,” he said with a wry laugh.

“Gods,” Kagome breathed out, laughing along with him. “All this time I was helping him with Ayame, it scared the shite out of me when he did it.” Quietly, more hesitantly, she added to say, a pretty flush rising to her cheeks, “Definitely, uh, definitely not the one I thought about… about proposing to me.”

James was not ashamed to admit how breathless her admission made him, the sight of Kagome shyly averting her gaze, her blush darkening further, as he whispered, “Yeah?” and she nodded, biting her lip once again to hide her flustered smile. 

Nor was he ashamed at how eagerly he quietly confessed in return, “I think what upset me the most was the fact that I wasn’t the one to propose to you first, joke or not.” 

Stunned, Kagome steered a wide eyed gaze back up at him, silently mouthing “Really?” and he laughed, a little giddy, and pressed his forehead against hers. 

“Trust me on this, Kagome, I was not kidding about dueling that prat for your hand. And I’d’ve kicked his arse, you know I would.” At her breathless, snorting laugh, James grinned a foolish grin, before he sobered and slipped his hand free of hers to cup the sides of her face instead. 

“One day, I’m gonna propose,” he promised, and watched with rapt attention how her blush returned in full force, mingling with the freckles smattered across her cheeks, and the roundness, the misty sheen her gorgeous blue eyes took on in response.

James felt his heart flutter, so incredibly entranced right then and there, and swallowed down the nerves that was building up in his throat. 

“Not now,” he ruefully muttered, “And certainly not in middle of The Three Broomsticks where all you can smell is the butterbeer and stale fish and chips, but…” 

James trailed off and gazed warmly at Kagome with gentle grin. “But one day it’s gonna be me getting down on one knee, offering you up a ring, riding on the hope you’d grant me the incredible honor of becoming your husband, because as sure as I knew it the day you threatened me with your bat that you were something special,” and James paused, grinning wider as Kagome burst out in a watery chuckle, her eyes way past misty now and almost spilling with tears, before he told her so solemn, so empathetically, with as much emotion and confidence that he could summon, “I know you’re it for me, and there’s not a chance I’ll let you slip away, not if I can help it.”

[slytherweasley]

Desperate love (Pansy Parkinson x reader)

Warnings: smut and swearing

Summary/request: Hiii, could I request a Pansy Parkinson x fem!reader smut where reader eats out Pansy very well and she’s just a moaning hot mess and it’s the best she’s ever had so when reader walks around the halls next day all the boys are intimidated and stare because they heard Pansy moan and wail?

If you want to request here are my request guidelines

You signed yourself up to tutor some of the fifth years in preparation for their owls as extra credit from Snape. You also signed up to get extra credit from other professors, it was mainly a bit of cleaning and watering plants for Professor Sprout. You didn’t have much time for yourself or your girlfriend who was very high maintenance.

Pansy doesn’t take shit from anyone, she doesn’t like to be told no, she doesn’t like to be kept waiting and she does not tolerate not being centre of attention. That’s all you’ve done this week but with you she can take it for a little while before she snaps and needs your attention. If you weren’t so busy she would have forced you to stay with her and spend time with her but you never see her after school until you get in your dorm and she’s half asleep.

You finished watering Professor Sprout’s plants and you were on your way to the library, you sat down and got the books you needed for tutoring and realised you left a couple in your dorm so you quickly rush into your dorm.

Little did you know as you were getting dressed in the morning after packing your bag Pansy pulled out a couple books and hid them under her pillow. You run up the stairs, luckily your dorm is right near the common room so it wasn’t a far walk. You burst through the door and Pansy sits on her bed, legs crossed trying to keep her smile in.

“Hey Pans, I’m just grabbing some books I left” “Why don’t you stay for a while?” “I have to go tutor another fifth year” you were frantically searching your big pile of books under your bed. “Is something wrong?” She asks innocently “I can’t find the damn books I need” “Oh that’s a shame. Just call it a day and come here, darling.” You stopped searching and stood up with your arms crossed “Where are they?” You ask “What” “The books, where are they?” “I didn’t do anything!” “Look Pansy I understand you don’t care about school but this extra credit means a lot and I promise I’ll find time to spend time with you.”

Pansy took the books from behind her pillow and held them in her arms. “Thank you” you say but she doesn’t hand them over “I mean you could go and tutor some fifth year and be boring or you could help me out and be a bit more exciting.”

Pansy lifts up her school skirt to show she’s not wearing anything underneath. You stand there weighing up your options, she is practically irresistible. “Fucks sake Pansy” you get on the bed and kiss her.

Finally Pansy got her way. You quickly undressed her, unbuttoning her shirt and throwing her tie and shirt on the ground and unclasping her bra. Pansy undoes her skirt and you pull it down throwing it with the pile of her clothes on the ground.

You admire her body before kissing down her stomach “Please Y/n” she begs “How desperate for me are you?” You swipe a finger through her folds and feel how wet she is, she shivers just at the touch of your finger. “Shit Pans, you really are wet” “Please” she begs.

You lick up and down her pussy relieving the throbbing sensation between her legs. You had never experienced Pansy being this needy and horny before. She couldn’t help the moans coming out of her mouth “Y/n fuck feels so good!” She yells. As your tongue moves fast on her clit her hips grind against your face.

You start to finger her with a couple fingers curling them inside her while still working on her clit. “Please Y/n Please! I’m so fucking close!” Her yells and screams were so hot. She kept pleading and swearing as she came closer to orgasm.

She grabs a fistful of your hair and yells out “Oh shit! I’m going to fucking cum, fuck” she curses. As she came you continued sucking on her clit as she finished her high.

“Oh my fucking God Y/n, that was the best thing I’ve felt in my life” “Darling, you were so fucking hot” “Give me a second to calm down before I return the favour” “I’ve got to go tutor but I promise I’ll be back soon” “Hurry back, sweetheart.”

You place a kiss on her lips and admire her body once more, you were so turned on but you had to go back. You’d noticed people looking at you but you ignored it because you were in a rush.

On your way back you noticed people staring at you again. You got to your dorm and checked yourself in the mirror. “You look great darling” Pansy says “Do I have something on me? People were staring at me” “No, you look just as beautiful as before” “Huh, well that’s weird.”

You and Pansy took a shower together giving her the opportunity to return the favour. After the shower you were both so tired you fell right asleep.

The next morning you and Pansy walk to breakfast, guys were looking Pansy up and down and avoiding eye contact with you. It boosted Pansy’s ego “This is so weird” you say “I like it” she smiles playing with her hair “Why? You don’t even like guys” “I know! I like the attention though” you roll your eyes.

People didn’t sit near the two of you. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle sit across from the two of you. “Morning” Draco mumbles grabbing a piece of toast “Hi” you mumble back “What’s got you in a bad mood and why are you in a good mood?” He asks “I don’t think we need to guess what’s gotten Pansy in a good mood” Crabbe chuckles with Goyle and Draco rolls his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Pansy snarls at the two boys “Do you know how to cast a silencing charm?” Draco asks “Of course I do, I’m not dumb, we learnt that ages ago” “Maybe you should use it instead of feeding all the horny teenage boys with your unholy moans.”

“People could hear?” You ask “Pansy was yelling like bloody murder” “So they are only looking at me because they heard me in an intimate moment and not because I look pretty today?” “It wasn’t so intimate” Draco comments “Don’t worry you look gorgeous” you tuck a piece of hair behind her ear.

You and Pansy death stared anyone who dared to look at the either of you. Eventually people got something else to talk about and left you alone.

[sangyeonsofthours]

the boyz as hogwarts students; hyung line

☾ this is purely based on my own knowledge about harry potter, the hogwarts universe and what thoughts and impressions i may have about the boyz members. It is also and slightly based on kevin’s answers to a fan and a friend’s impression on the boyz that also knows a lot about harry potter;

☾ maybe there’s things that are not really canon on the hogwarts universe, but i think i could have some artistic license for my own au, right?

☾ you can read 98 line here and maknae line here!

☾ thank you all for reading my stuff, i hope you’ll like it! please, do not forget to give me some feedback ♡

SANGYEON

house: hufflepuff patronus: eagle blood status: half blood pet: eagle owl best subjects: transfiguration and charms worst subject: potions

Sangyeon is the Head Boy of his house;

Was elected to be prefect for his house when he got to the fifth year;

He’s clever and responsible, got good grades and is an exemplary student;

He’s also hard-working and super good at leading;

Always takes care of the younger ones and anyone who needs his help, to be honest;

He’s pretty good at quidditch, he’s a chaser!!!

Captain of Hufflepuff Quidditch team;

Has the potential to be Hogwarts Champion;

Girls and boys all over Hogwarts have a crush on him because he’s that kind of guy that is super funny and super cute but isn’t really aware of that;

Looks harmless but could actually hex the shit out of you anytime if it was needed;

His friends constantly make fun of him for anything (poor boy is that type of hyung who the younger ones won’t leave alone);

JACOB

house: gryffindor patronus: peregrine falcon blood status: muggle born pet: black and white bunny best subject: charms and transfiguration worst subject: arithmancy

This boy here is too pure to be real;

You could easily mistake him for a Hufflepuff;

His personality sometimes can come off as calm or quiet;

But he takes pride in being a Gryffindor and will do anything to protect his house and it’s students;

And his friends!!!!

Wanna find him? Check out the library. He’ll be there tutoring first-years;

Or maybe he could be helping Madam Pomfrey in the infirmary;

Or any professor, for thar matter;

He’s probably one of McGonagall’s favorites students;

Will end up having a brilliant career in the wizarding world, probably at the ministry.

YOUNGHOON

house: hufflepuff patronus: chow chow blood status: pure blood pet: pygmy puff best subjects: charms and astronomy worst subject: ancient studies

Even though he's a pure blood, he’s super cute and loves getting to know anything about muggle borns and muggle things;

He’s part veela… so he obviously has girls (and boys) swooning over him all the time;

Could get away with anything because of this, but he doesn’t because he’s too pure to do anything wrong;

Has the most undying loyalty to his friends;

The elves at Hogwarts kitchen totally love him! He doesn’t need to steal food because they give it to Younghoon soooo gladly;

The true embodiment of ‘he protects, but he also attacks’;

Seems tough for a Hufflepuff, but because of his soft nature he does have the tendency to cry a lot depending on the situation. He needs to be protected sometimes. Hyunjae is always there to dry his tears tho;

He’s too clumsy to be around animals and plants for too much time, even tho herbology and care of magical creatures aren’t his worst subject;

Look too soft, but if there's a problem he'll confront it and take action needed - always with good intentions, of course.

HYUNJAE

house: slytherin patronus: raven blood status: pure blood pet: snowy owl best subject: defense against the dark arts worst subject: divination

Uses magic for everything;

Is a natural in pretty much every field of magic, probably due the fact that he grew up around so much magic, being son of a long lineage of pure bloods;

He doesn’t give a damn about the pure blood shit though;

Still, he’s kinda annoying… too cocky for everyone’s liking;

Well, he’s a slytherin, after all;

But I can guarantee you, he’s super funny and a sweetheart to the ones who knows him better;

Enjoys quidditch but doesn't play for his house;

He freaking aces at defense against the dark arts. Enough to be an auror, maybe;

Flirts a lot, but doesn’t really have a girlfriend/boyfriend;

n/a: thanks for reading until here! it won't take me too long to post the next part, bc it is already written, i promise! please, feel free to send me messages/asks about the boyz as hogwarts students ♡

[jadedxrealityw]

-Rivals- Hermione Granger x Female Reader

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody: I’m using the owls grading system for the story so if that’s not right, sue me i guess idk. 

    Movie/Show: Harry Potter, ignoring the storyline

    House/Year: Ravenclaw / 7th year

    Request:  Can I request a bold ravenclaw reader (her attitude almost could pass as a slytherin ngl) she's been Hermione's rival when it comes to grades and they DON'T get along very well. Reader is the opposite of mione's reserved personality. But rivals don't kiss and make out with each other secretly in the lavatory 😭 pls enemies to lovers (with some tension;) ykyk and then one day, they walk the great hall hand in hand and everyone is like don't they find each other insufferable?

    Possible Triggers/Warnings: if you don’t like lesbians get the hell off my page, sexual tension, enemies to lovers trope, cursing

    ☼-☪-☼

    love came unexpectedly at times, you learned that at young age from fairy tales and such. Well all kids did, but kids eventually grew up and came to the realization that fairy tales were exactly what they were, fairy tales. Fiction. Not real. 

    people could call you cold hearted or rude, but you would describe yourself as blunt or brutally honest. Never afraid to speak your mind or point out injustice when you saw fit. To put it simpler terms, professors at Hogwarts preferred you didn’t speak at times. 

    “Your too outspoken Ms. L/n” 

    “Stick to your academics Ms. L/n”

    “You wouldn’t be in detention so much so if kept your mouth shut Ms. L/n”

    merlin, you were exhausted of hearing your own last name. You guessed the only reason you weren’t reprimanded as worse as the Weasley Twins was because you were one of Hogwarts brightest witches, always excelled in academics, in every subject. 

    you couldn’t explain it to others even if you tried other then it just came naturally. Your parents, when they were attended Hogwarts were both just as naturally skilled in there studies as you were. So you must have inherited there ‘big brain’ as your mother said many times before.

    you were never one to gloat though, it was never your style. You were more humble about what you could accomplish. That was until she got involved. That egoistical, hypocritical, Gryffindor girl. Hermione Granger became the bane of your existence early into your fifth year. 

   until then Ms. Granger had been the top of all her classes, no one even came close to her intelligence, naming her ‘The Brightest Witch At Hogwarts’ and Hermione wore that title with pride. Being a Muggle born put a target on her head as well as stereotypes.

    most students and some staff almost immediately came to the conclusion she wasn’t capable of achieving goals that regular half or pure bloods could. It was a terrible way to think, but it was unfortunately the reality of being involved with the wizarding world. 

   Hermione was lucky to have friends like she did that cared about her no matter who she was or what she became, but it didn’t stop her need to feel validated in her academics. It was the one thing no one could giver her shit for, because she was the best at it and no one else was. 

   until that fateful fifth year that was mentioned earlier. It was the time when you finally got your mind and heart into your studie. You blew past most of the student body rather quickly, earning the title of the fastest turn around at Hogwarts.

    it was nice

    then it wasn’t, for Hermione of course 

    ☼-☪-☼

    fifth year / past

    “It seems we have two students with an Outstanding this time around” Professor Flitwick spoke as the exams from the previous week had landed neatly onto the wooden desk in front of you. “congratulations Ms. Granger and Ms. L/n”

    Hermione’s head perked up like a cat who had heard a bag of hard food shake from the nest room over, eager. She had never heard that name before, it didn’t come as much as an surprise though considering how big Hogwarts was. She leant to the left where Harry Potter sat. 

    “Who’s L/n? Do you know her?” she asked, casually though Harry knew her better then most. He gave her a half hearted shrug “No clue, try Ron” he suggests. Hermione nods once before leaning over to the right, where the Weasley sat, scowling at his exam. 

    “Mum’s going to kill me” he muttered, bringing no reaction to Granger’s face. He never studied. “Ron, do you know who this L/n is?” she repeated the question she gave to Harry. Ron turns his head away from the parchment and to Hermione. 

   his brows furrowed as he searches the corners of his mind for where he had heard the name from, until the visible light bulb popped over his head- well not so visible actually. “Oh um- Y/n L/n. she’s a Ravenclaw, her parents are certified geniuses. They work at the ministry. Department of magical education”

   his words did not soothe the wracking thought in the young Granger’s mind. “Certified geniuses?” Hermione echos. “If that’s so how come she’s only getting Outstandings now? she must have cheated somehow” she thought aloud. 

    “I surely didn’t cheat”

   like an owl Hermione’s head turned over her shoulder, her two Gryffindor pals doing the same. In her sight was a girl, her age, in a Ravenclaw robe. She had S/C skin with H/L H/C hair and E/C eyes that were staring back at her. Hermione was almost stunned into silence- keyword being almost. 

    “the explain the good grade all of the sudden, L/n?”

   you looked rather confused. You had never met the girl and she was accusing you of cheating because you had never gotten an Outstanding before? Was this a prank of some sort or fever dream? “I studied for once. You have no right accusing me, i don’t even know you that well”

    Harry placed a hand upon Hermione’s shoulder, signaling for her to stop before she caused a scene. Looking back, she should have listened “No right? I have a right to point out people who are just trying to cheat their way through school while people like us actually care about our grades”

    what the Gryffindor girl wasn’t expecting was for you to start laughing. Her friend, Cho Chang joining in, finding it just as equally hilarious. Hermione’s face turned just as bright as Ron’s hair. “What is so funny?” you and Cho slowly come to a stop, breathing in and out. 

    “what’s funny is that your ego is so incredibly large, so much so that it can’t comprehend that someone, not a Gryffindor either was able to match your intelligence. Now shove off ” you said it all with a grin on your face, because you certainly knew you were right. 

    and from that day, you both despised each other

    ☼-☪-☼

    seventh year / present

    and with every exam, every questioned called on by a teacher, you fastly became Hermione’s rival. It was a term Cho used, but you didn’t really see it that way since you weren’t competing with her. You never studied harder to make sure you got the same grade, never tried to sabotage her in any way. 

    you didn’t care much about it actually

    but you did quite enjoy her face, the way her nostrils flared up an her cheeks turned a bright red in anger. It was cute seeing her so mad. Sending er a wink or sly grin when she glared at you became a daily routine as well. When at first you ignored her you now loved annoying her.

    never having to say a word was probably your favorite part. 

    that’s probably when feelings began to mix into it, but you either didn’t notice or refuse to acknowledge them at all. You genuinely thought you hated this girl, so why in the world would you ever think you liked her? Makes sense, right? Were not even going to mention the questioning your sexuality.

    “Sit still while i pass out your exams from yesterday. Once you recieve your paper you may get up and leave” 

    “You think if Snape got laid he wouldn’t be such a prick?” the Slytherin boy spoke, leaning towards you. turning your head ever so slightly, you lock eyes with Draco “Why are you even sitting here?” you whisper back, giving him a mock astonished look.

   he rolls his grey eyes, shrugging his shoulders “You never talk to me outside of class anymore” he grumbles. Is he- Is this- What is happening? “That’s because your a little shit and pushed Neville in the hallway yesterday” yeh, you caught his dumbass. 

    Draco’s eyes widen a bit, not knowing you had been in the hallway during the crime. “You saw that?- what are you his protector?” he says, clearly as an insult, but oh little did he know that you were indeed exactly what he just said and would say it with pride.

    “Yes-”

    “Ms. L/n, Outstanding as usual as well Mr. Malfoy. Good work, the both of you” Snape places the exams in front of each of you, but you were both to busy staring in shock. This bitter, old, mean, crude man just compliment you. Merlin, you had finally gotten fathers approval

    (what in the fuck am i writing)

    “Is this heaven?” Draco questioned, staring bug eyed forward. 

    “No”

    “How do you know?”

    “Cormac is here”

    “Yeah your right, feelings over” both you and Draco sighed, turning to look at each other before laughing quietly. He was a pretty chill dude sometimes. “What!?” the loud screech filled your ears. All heads turned behind you, so you followed that and saw the one and only Hermione Granger. 

    she was huffing and puffing. You feared for the stick and straw houses in the world for a moment. Harry quickly stood up and pushed her shoulders down, forcing her back into her seat “I've never gotten an Exceeds Expectations before” Hermione sputters out. 

    she

    got

    what

    now?

    oh this was rich, absolutely hilarious, so much so that Draco had already began to laugh. “Poor Granger, guess you really aren’t the brightest witch” he taunted. Hermione looked up, glaring daggers at the Slytherin. Merlin, he had such a big mouth.

    then her brown eyes strayed to you, but you only pursed your lips together, providing her no emotion to work off of. In a haste, she collected her things, leaving the cursed exam on the table nd rushing out the door, both Ron and Harry calling out for her. 

    fuck

    standing up, you grab your bag and look down at Draco. His laughter comes to an end and he looks up at you “What?” he asked. You copied his dementor singers from third year, making him look at your hands. You took that time to reach down and flick his forehead. 

    he pulls away, his palm rubbing his head in circles “Bloody hell, what was that for?!” he exclaimed. What an idiot. “This is why we don’t hang out” you deadpan before finally going to exit the classroom, leaving a grumbling, mumbling Draco. Something about you being  ‘mean friend’

    ☼-☪-☼

    only having ten minutes until Charms class you began to search the halls. Merlin where had she run off too? The school wasn’t THAT big- okay maybe it was. You had almost called quits, making a mental note to check up on her during lunch when you passed the restroom.

    sniffling and crys were heard. You’ll admit, it kind off hurt to hear. Taking a few steps backwards, you use the palm off your hand to slowly push the door open so it wouldn’t creak like the old shit it was. When it was open just enough for you to fit through, you slip in. 

    gazing around, you see Hermione bent over the sink, sobbing. You could hear her voice becoming rougher by the second as she destroyed her vocal cords. “Granger?” you say, staying a few feet behind her. Hermione looks up in the mirror, spotting you behind her. 

    her distraught expression quickly shifted to anger “You” she seethed. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion “Me?” you say back, crossing your arms. “Leave me the hell alone L/n!” she shouts, angry tears flooding down her cheeks. Raising your hands, you offer your surrender.

    “Shit, sorry. I was just trying to see if you were okay” you admit. Hermione turns on her heels, facing you directly this time before speaking “Oh so now your my friend, your a bully! All you do is step on my toes and try to make me look like a fool!”

    “Are you on fucking drugs Granger? Not once have i ever gone out my way to harm you of any sort. Your the one who is obsessed with trying to be better then me and i never gave a shit. I never wanted to be your rival for three years and i certainly never bullied you!”

    the words you spoke went out one of Hermione’s ears and out the other. For someone as smart as her, she could be quite dense when angry “You don’t get to play the saint, L/n! I have spent those three years studying as hard as i can and you don’t even have to try!” 

   throwing your hands up in the air a crazy person because she was honestly starting to make your brain hurt quite a bit, you laugh loudly “Oh my- no one asked you too! What is so wrong with us being the same?! ” you shouted, finally raising your voice as much as she had.

    “Because your not a Muggle! You don’t know what it’s like to have everyone you meet already assume your not worth their time just because your parents aren’t witches or wizards!” she crept towards you and which each step she took you took a step right the fuck back.

    this chick wasn’t going to hit you, right?

    “I have never judged you for your blood status Granger, i frankly could care less. What i do judge you for is you know, the giant ego thing” you spat back only causing her to gasp in offense “I do not have an ego!” she yells, stepping into your boundaries basically.

   you had tried to back up like before, but you were pressed up against a wall at this point. “Yes you do and it’s as big as Hagrid!” you reply. Hermione grabs the collar of your white uniform shirt, pulling you down a bit so her face was inches from yours, trying to intimidate you.

    “Take it back!” she threatens. In that moment your eyes scanned her face, noting her almost perfect skin, her brown eyes that looked more hazel up close then far away, and her lips. They looked so soft and inviting. You couldn’t quite understand why you were thinking like this all of the sudden.

    but it felt right, so right

    in a swift motion you place your lips on Hermione’s. You had thought she’d pull away, but only half a second later her arms were wrapped around your neck, pulling you as close as possible to her. You tangled one of your hands into her light brown wavy mess and the other pushed on the small of her back. 

    the kiss was messy and sloppy, not amount of anything really could make it appropriate. How did you two go from fighting to almost ripping each others uniforms off? A question no one could really answer but yourself as well Hermione. 

    it was over as soon as it began with Hermione pulling away, leaning her forehead against yours. You could make out the small smile on her face, it made you smile as well. “That was-” she started to speak, but was stopped by her own laughter. 

    “Yeah” you breathed out. What had just happened?

        ☼-☪-☼

    four months later

    ever since that day you and Hermione would casually meet up in the lavatory to kiss and feel up on each other after, btween, during classes. Anything really. You both had also not interacted at all outside of these visits. Just stayed away from each other as much as possible.

    most people thought you two had either made up after three years of rivalry or had decided to no longer interact with each other at all. Little did they know right? Speaking of that, you pull away from Hermione, panting for air “We have divination in three minutes” you spoke. 

   her face turned to worry instantly making you grin to yourself “Godric, i have to get out of here. Wait a couple minutes” she gathered her belongings and rushed out the restroom not even leaving you with an goodbye kiss. How rude. After about five minutes or so you leave as well

    once you get to class you look around the room and spot Hermione already sat with Harry and Ron on one side of the arch like sitting area for the students. “Y/n!” oh not again. Turning your head to the right, you spt the Slytherin boy with his mates.

   this guy just doesn’t quit. You plop yourself next to Draco Malfoy “I thought you were going to ignore me again” he admits. Ignoring his statement, you gaze around the people at your table “Where’s Parkinson? If i’m going to be stuck with you gits and Theo i rather it be with her” 

   Theo cracks a smile while Draco rolls his eyes “She’s sick, stuck in her dorms” he explains. You nod mindlessly and look over at Hermione. She was brushing through her hair with her fingers, trying to make it look like you weren’t tugging on it just minutes ago. 

    “What’s that on your neck?” Harry asks, moving the top part of Hermione’s robe with his finger, causing her to swat his hand away “It’s just a bug bite” she says with haste. quick thinking, that’s kinda cute. For some odd reason you liked seeing her explain her way out of a hickey that you gave her. 

    class soon started, but you kept your inventive gaze on her. It was adorable how she would catch you staring and turn a nice shade of red. It brought a smug smile to your face each time. Professor Trelawney had called upon Hermione to ask a question, but she seemed to be too busy avoiding your gaze. 

    “My dear, Ms. Granger” Trelawney said for maybe the third time until Hermione finally fell back down to reality. She looked at the Professor who gave her a kind smile “Oh um-” the Gryffindor put on a nervous smile, her eyes looking to you. You sent her a wink.

    merlin you were such an asshole

    Hermione looked at her lap, trying to muster up the words, any words actually. Her savior wore glasses “Hermione isn’t feeling to well. Can Ron and i take her to the hospital wing?” Harry asked. What a buzzkill. Trelawney nods, waving her hand to the direction of the door. 

    Harry tapped Hermione’s shoulder while Ron grabbed her things and off they went. 

        ☼-☪-☼

    a week later

    “I have to head to dinner, you should too. I saw that you didn’t eat during lunch” Hermione spoke, buttoning her uniform shirt. You smile, looking into the mirror so you could fix your hair “Watching me Granger?” you ask, turning away from your reflection.

    “You know i worry about your health” she said, which only made your smile wider “What is that stupid smile for?’ Hermione questions, an amused laugh in her tone. Shrugging, you lean against the sink counter “Stupid? I thought you liked my quote on quote ‘Goofy smile’” 

    Hermione shakes her head, grabbing her bag from the floor “I better see you at dinner or i’ll drag you there myself” she said playfully. An idea popped into your mind. “Then drag me” you smirk, tilting your head to the left. Hermione looks at you, shaking her head again. “You know i can’t”

    “Why not? It’s been four months. I would like to be your-” you stopped mid sentence. You both had never really gave each other labels before. It was always just the casual make out and flirting, but now you were much more. Fuck it “I would like to be your girlfriend in public”

    Hermione’s brow eyes went wide as she heard those words. It becoming a little too real. You saw her conflicted face and immediately felt some sort of shame. Averting your gaze to the ground, you take a deep breath. “Forget i said anything” 

    “No!- i mean. I’m ready. Plus i’m tired of being distracted by you during class” Hermione lightened the mood just a tad. You look back up at her, cracking a half smile “I’m most likely still going to distract you” you point out, making her chuckle. Cute.

    she inhales sharply “Let’s do this” she states confidently, letting out the breath. She reached out, opening her hand for you to grab. In that small gesture, you knew you would be with this woman for as long as you lived. Grabbing her hand, you intertwined your fingers with hers. 

    ☼-☪-☼

    hand in hand, you walk into the great hall. Heads turned and pupils dialated at the sight of you and Hermione walking in together. You honestly felt a little self conscious until you saw the bright smile of Cho and Luna as well as Draco who gave you a hidden thumbs up.

    both you and Hermione took  seat at the Gryffindor table. “So Hermione, how long as this been going on?” Harry asked. Hermione glances at you before her best friend “Four months, one week.” she said, gleaming with pride at her memory. 

    Harry looked taken aback at the time, but gave you both a smile “Well at least you both are getting along finally” he says, Ron nodding beside “Yeah- getting along” the Weasley jokes. You laugh a bit before leaning over to kiss the temple of Hermione's head. 

    rivals am i right?

        ☼-☪-☼

    Click here to join my Taglist so you never miss a new story from me!

    @the--queen-of-hell @sonbelleame @dracosathenaeum @queeriacs @marrymetheonott

    ☼-☪-☼

    Kody- Aye look its 10 am and i haven’t slept. Good night, my requests are open blah blah. Anyways, peace. 

[spiltscribbles]

Oooo it’s my birthday today and I neeeeeed my sweet boys, is it too greedy if I ask for you to write something absolutely adores like you always do. I can wait there’s no rush. It would really make my day a whole lot better

~Notes: HI HI BABY!!! I’m so so fucking sorry this is like two days late 😭😭😭 I am a piece of shit and I had an idea and then I scrapped it and then I came up with this crack shit! But I included singling like you wanted!! And ILU endlessly!!! I hope your birthday was at least filled with sunlight and friends and all the adoration you deserve🎉🎉🎂🥳🎈🎈🎈🎊🎊🥳🎁. And I hope this isn’t a shitty gift!😭😭

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Send Me A Prompt<3  |  A Reblog is like a hug!!!!

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The 4 Times People Suspected About Remus and Sirius, and The One Time They Called It By Name

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~I~

Peter notices it first.

He doesn’t know quite what it is, or what it means— Peter doesn’t understand what it entails when he’s watching the way Sirius gently thumbs at a high patch on Remus’s cheek while he’s sleeping on the hospital bed after the first full moon of fourth year, a fraught look in his stormy eyes. Or how Remus’s gaze always search Sirius out first after he’s made a wry comment in the expense of the Slytherins, going alight with the other boy’s laughter. Peter doesn’t comprehend the way it sometimes seems like he’s caught in some sort of static— a negative space that makes him feel out of bounds— when he’s alone with only the pair of them. When they’re all huddled around the common area or their dormitory while James is probably skulking in search of Lily Evans or cajoling the other chasers to have another lap around the court. With Remus lounging on his fourposter, or the sofa, reading one of the infinite books he’s got tucked away in his trunk, and Sirius is quietly  sat by his feet, toying with a non-magical contraption he’s found in Muggle London after sneaking out from his ancestral home while his folks were having a row. And Peter is ordinarily just fiddling with a scroll he has to finish for one of the tougher courses from a bit away, intermittently  glancing at them side long, just waiting for an excuse to leave the suffocating ambiance that feels like it’s been fitted for just the pair of them and not another soul.

But the most peculiar part about all of this is that Peter is accustomed to feeling like the spare, the cast off who’s clinging to the glimmering forms that are James and Sirius, and their ravenous appetite for any and all attention that’s given over because that’s the sort of boys they are— affluent and prominent and radiating with a sort of spark that’s all there own— the sort of boys that others find doubtless that they are something miraculous. But when Peter’s around just the pair of them, in the corner of the galaxy that the marauders have carved for them to rule like kings— It never feels quite so stilted, so weighty. Sirius and James have a gift of making everyone in the room feel like they’re in on the joke, that they could be showered with that same granger just as long as they play in the tableau. Remus and Sirius together feels the contrary of that, like there’s something pregnant lying between them, waiting to pounce. Like there’s an understanding that no one else gets to glimpse at, and no one else should try. An understanding  that’s personal and private and crackling with an energy that is far beyond anything between mere friends, beyond anything Peter could fathom with all his fifteen years.

Idly, over supper after an entire two hours being stuck between that strange tension simmering beneath the surface of Remus and Sirius, Peter wonders for the umpteenth time on whether he should ask James about this development in their small brotherhood, should ask him if he’s detected the difference there. And if he has, Peter will listen to James’s plan to ensure this doesn’t ruin anything. How whatever is brewing under the surface won’t absolutely ruin them.

But then, from the corner of his eye, Peter sees Sirius— none to gently— piling Remus’s plate with an abundance of the potatoes that Moony likes best, dipping down to whisper something in his ear— something surely lecherous— before tousling his curls in that brash, bombastic way of his that he does with Peter and James too, even if he ends it by gingerly cupping the nape of Remus’s neck with a surreptitious squeeze that ends just as quickly as it began, falling back into conversation with James and Marlene about the Wasps’s chances against the Harpies this Friday night as if it was just an innate action, even if it’s one Peter’s only ever witnessed him doing to Remus.

And even though there’s another full in two days, and even though Remus looks like a walking inferi— pale faced and exhausted posture and circles the color of midnight smudged beneath his eyes— Peter watches the ends of his lips quirk up into the best approximation of a smile Peter’s ever seen on him so close to the wolf breaking through the surface of his body that’s all skin and bones, and he isn’t sure if it’s a trick of the light or not, but Remus actually looks like he might be glowing over the strange attention that Sirius’s only ever paid to him.

So no… No, Peter doesn’t think he’ll ask James quite yet, reckons that if anything can help his moon plagued friend, that it must be something good, something that shouldn’t be tempered with.

They can figure out how the strange string pulling Remus and Sirius together will alter their brotherhood later on, there’s still time. There’ still a possibility that it won’t devastate everything.

~II~

Lily’s suspected for a while.

The thing is that she’s known about Remus since the end of third year, when he rebuffed the advances of an eager Heleen  Abed, and Lily found him on the ledge of the largest window in the vacant common room— the same one that they regularly commandeer with Mary McDonald to discuss the finer points of Muggle politics and current events, separate from the melting pot of their Gryffindor class that’s composed of either pure bloods or those with their closest Muggle relative being a long dead grandparent. And it was definitely a dangerous, knife’s edge she was playing at, but Lily had sat besides the boy who she’s cultivated a real and true friendship with— one beyond pleasant platitudes and fodder about their course work— and she told him about her cousin Joey with green spiked hair and a mischievous smile adorned with a sparkling stud and how she and Petunia had caught him holding hands with one of his friends from sixth-form in the garden of her Aunt’s cottage, and how even the sneer on her older sisters lips hadn’t deterred Lily from thinking anything but mild indifference about the situation. Only wanting her cousin to always live in that easy effervescence she’s always known when it came to him.

And nothing else was exchanged between them, but Remus had grinned in that barely perceptible way of his, and Lily had nudged his shoulder with her own and then fished out her final handful of chocolate frogs for them to share while they revise their notes for the transfiguration exam coming up. 

Two summers have past since then—they’re in the midst  of their final term of fifth year now— and she thinks that they’ve become even closer, that the frequent late nights in the library for their impending OWLs and their countless prefect rounds has helped forge a real and true bond— especially that whole snag earlier in the year when they had realized they were both snogging Leon Bennett on alternating nights behind greenhouse three. But all of that withstanding, Lily knows that there are still secrets Remus keeps tight to his chest, ones that Lily’s analytical mind— the mind of a potions expert and future healer— has suspected to do with the thin, silvery scars running down his strong hands that are all tapered fingers and slender wrists, and another across his right bicep that she saw when he had changed his robes for a jumper in front of her, and the one cutting down from the bottom of his ear and nearly across the entire length of his neck, ending at the corner of his sharp collarbone. But Lily suspects he’ll tell her about that soon enough, what she isn’t so confident about is him admitting that particularly dazed look he gets when around Black, of all people. The way he stammers his words occasionally and the way he worries on his bottom lip while averting his glance when Sirius is chatting up a very pleased looking girl, and the way he flushes when Lily is ribbing about him in particular. And Lily knows that the foursome of Gryffindor boys had a falling out of sorts before winter hols, that there’s a hairline fracture between them and Remus now— one that she’s sure no one else can pick up on after the way they had seemingly come back together in late January, right before her birthday funnily enough. But Lily’s always been the analytical  sort— the sort to absorb the barebones of a situation so she could conjure a hypothesis that she could prove after careful study.

So Lily knows that it’s something deeper, and she can see  how Remus is reticent around them in ways she’s actually worried won’t be shaken off anytime soon— which is all levels of bazaar considering she’s been telling Remus for years that he needs to shrug off his rowdy mates like a snake shedding an old coat. But before, when she’d barb as much he’d only stick out his tongue and tell her what happens to busybodies, and how she doesn’t really know them at all. But now days, he just looks particularly hurt, and more than a bit put out, and Lily catches him flickering over to wherever Sirius was holding court, longing in a way she couldn’t possibly articulate out loud.

Honestly Lily thinks it’s really quite gracious of her to have dropped the subject completely, rather, she takes up the mantel of his friend that can distract him from all those sorts of woes, biting her tongue over his lingering feelings for Sirius that are more than likely far beyond a passing fancy. And she thinks that maybe that’s a good call, maybe it’s good for Remus to beat down those sorts of emotions  that he’s harboring for the wanker. She knows Remus, and she knows he wouldn’t hold a grudge— even such a quiet one— for no reason at all. Besides, she doesn’t really think it’s her place to tell him how when he’s glancing away, Sirius is holding vigil to him with that same sort of fervor. That Sirius is the one who collects the notes for all his classes on those conspicuous absences of his when Remus is feeling poorly in the infirmary. That Sirius occasionally looks so very gutted when Remus is wilting away from them, when he seeks Lily’s company instead.

She has a heavy suspicion that Remus might already know all of those things— that maybe they’ve already discussed it at length, that maybe the falling out in December has caused a full stop of anything that could’ve potentially blossomed between them. And she just wishes she knew the entire story so she could decide on whether she should be jinxing Black’s face to a putrid orange color, or pushing Remus to actually give him a chance.

Lily just wishes she could read Black as easily as she can Remus, maybe that would help in this experiment she’s testing, because for now she’s just confused as all hell over what exactly Black feels towards him. Well that is until it’s a fortnight before Remus’s birthday, and she’s being bodily dragged into a closet on her way to charms.

“Oi— What the bloody—“

“Language, Evans,” the annoyingly familiar baritone of Sirius Black tsks, lighting up the cupboard with his wand and smirking in that jagged way she’s heard countless girls tittering over, and the one that makes her want to pop him one right against his ridiculously smug face.

“Black,” she says, caustic as all get out with her fists clenched against her sides and her brows making a really resilient effort to meet in the middle. “You’ve got thirty seconds before I hex your bollocks off.”

“Pff, and Jamie thinks you’re some sort of saint.”

“Twenty-eight. Twenty-seven. Twenty-six.”

Sirius pulls a face at her, but must understand the credence in the words, because it’s not another moment more before he pulls out a bedraggled looking slip of paper from his robe’s pocket, and thrusts it at her face. So with an indignant huff, Lily opens it up and begins scanning the words— becoming all the more confused when she sees measurements and things like coco powder and melted butter, instead of whatever the hell else she was preparing herself to read.

“I’m being pranked, aren’t I? You’re trying to distract me so you and Potter can do something horrid to the Slytherin’s common room.”

“We’ve actually already done that today,” Sirius jeers, raising up his hands in concession with a cluck of the tongue at her scowling face. “’s from Moony’s mum, all right. I asked her to send me the recipe of this chocolate cake she use to make him for his birthdays before Hogwarts— I just thought… It might be nice is all, and you can sod right off if you look at me like that, Evans, with the soft eyes and all that rot. Are you going to help me or not?”

Lily resolutely ignores the pang to her heart, because God, this really is such a sweet gesture. “And what? you thought I could help you because I’m a bird?” She asks in the most scolding inflection she could muster in the face of this incredibly soppy gift he wants to give Remus.

“None of that, blimey, Evans.” Sirius snarls, obviously diffident, and combined with the faint flush to his cheeks, Lily suddenly realizes why he’s considered one of the best looking blokes in the entirety of their school. “There’s a whole load of Muggle mumbo jumbo, so it was between asking you, or McDonald, and I adore Mary and all, but  she has got such a mouth on her.”

“You should know,” Lily counters with a leer. “She couldn’t stop going on about your date back in October.”

Sirius’s brows hike, and he actually smiles at her— one that’s vacant from all his bravado from his upbringing in his pretentious, pure blood home, and one that isn’t trying to show off. And Lily can’t help but favoringly liken him to an excited pug. “Oh you’re wicked, Evans!” He shrills delightedly. “Oh this is great, you’re just as depraved as Remus, are all prefects like this?”

Lily snorts, shaking her head at him, indulgent. “Never mind that, Black. Most of this stuff can be found in the kitchens below, I’m sure the house elves won’t mind us borrowing anything.”

“And the ingredients that won’t be down their?” He asks worriedly.

“Well, good on you planning this so far ahead of time, we’ll just have to experiment.”

Sirius groans in retort, muttering things about Muggle potions and James thinking he’s getting off with his future wife and other ridiculous things that Lily doesn’t bother to stay and listen to. Though, when Remus’s birthday does roll around, and she sees his countenance go a thousand shades brighter as he bites into the pudding, and Sirius’s grin stretch just that much more across his face in response— their eyes meeting across the room and past the crowds— Well Lily suspects Sirius never really minded any of the things he was whinging on about, not at all, not as long as the result was a beaming Remus.

~III~

Regulus hears about it in the halls.

He’s not much for gossip or that sort of dribble, doesn’t have much patience for anyone outside his house if he’s being at all frank— and even then, it’s not as if he doesn’t frequently find himself escaping to his fourposter for a moment’s quiet. It seems that everyone in this bloody castle are just dimwitted, daft idiots, and Regulus’s never been the sort to offer allowances for that kind of behavior. He’s been raised in the home of a family as close to royalty as Wizards permit, a prince among men. And he was told that he should have patience for the dull folks beneath him, just as long as they have the correct ideals, but sometimes he can’t help but wish they would all just let him be, sometimes feels like he’s being carted around Hogwarts as the perfect pure blood,  like he was nine years old again and being shown off in the parlor of  his home when guests came to call, watching from the sidelines while his mother rave about how splendid of an heir Sirius is turning out to be. How his tutor calls him a genius for any age, and how darling he looks in Slytherin green, and how he’s already mastered three romance languages to help in his spell work. 

And Regulus can’t help but scoff at those contemplations now, thinking of the past summer when his dramatic and brash brother had made a whole production of leaving behind the values that gave him everything he has. How he escaped to that Potter git’s home the way he’s been doing for nearly every holiday since his second year, how he offered Regulus to come along as if he’s a trader just like him. What a risible excuse for an heir.

But Regulus won’t commit such follies, he’ll make his parents proud— even if his father is nearly never paying much mind and his mother goes from raving to sickly in a blink of an eye. It doesn’t matter, because he’ll carry on the Black legacy, something that his oh so perfect brother never could’ve done. Regulus is only a fifth year, will be turning sixteen in only two months after Sirius’s coming of age, and sure, this might mean he’s still young enough that the Death Eaters don’t find him adequate to fight on the line of fire, but he’ll do it eventually, feels the weight of the letter from Bellatrix praising him for as much resting heavy in his pocket. And if Regulus finds them all a bit too vicious or a bit too excitable and completely lacking a deft hand to make the changes they’re searching for, he shrugs it off. He knows what he must do, and as he stares at his brother from across the valley cusping the lake, he’s only that much more steadfast in the conviction of the fact.

Sirius is sitting and laughing with a group of his Gryffindor mates, the mudbloods, and blood traders that had warped him from the brother he knew to the stranger he is now. And there’s a dark skinned Ravenclaw bird— Meadowes if he remembers correctly from his prefect meetings— and she’s telling some sort of long winded tail with hand gestures and loud cackling coming from the group as she goes on. And Sirius is tossing around a quaffle with Potter— the glint of a handsome, silver watch on his wrist catching in the dying sunlight. And Regulus wonders who had gifted him such a personal passage to adulthood, but is soon distracted by spotting the way Sirius nearly gets smacked in the face with the ball because he was too busy gawking over  at Lupin in such a stripped down, cautious way that it makes Regulus squirm.

He doesn’t know much about the elder Prefect, only that his name had come up nearly as much as Potters during that first year when Sirius would send him correspondence on a frequent basis because he knew how lonely Regulus would get while stuck in Grimmauld all by himself. And then when he began attending Hogwarts, Regulus never could get a good reading on him. He knew Potter because of how his family is infamous for their liberal views and nouveau riche attitudes, and Pettigrews family owns a hokey herb shop in Diagon. All he’s found out about the Lupins is that his father is the son of half-bloods and his mother is a Muggle, and that this mudblood is a reserved, carefully aloof bugger, and that somehow he’s seemingly captured all of Sirius’s attentions that he’s not giving Potter or the clinger ons who follow him around like mindless fools. Beyond that, Lupin and Regulus have only traded a hand full of words whenever their roles of prefects would force them to intermingle, and it’s always been punctuated by Lupin giving Regulus a witheringly cold look anytime they were in close proximity, which is admittedly impressive considering that half the time the sickly bastard looks like he’s about ready to keel over.

So no, Regulus doesn’t know much about him, but he’s heard the rumors. He knows that it’s basically an open secret between the Gryffindor class and selected friends. The fact that  his brother is probably shagging the mudblood, convincing Regulus that Sirius really has never given a toss about the decorum and standards befalling them as the only two Black males of their generation. And he hates his brother  so scathingly right then, hates his little munblood lover probably even more. 

And when he watches Lupin straying his gaze from the novel he was reading while that red haired Muggle born was resting her head in his lap, and Regulus saw the way both of their expressions went a peculiar sort of tender— well that’s the last straw, so he stands up in a huff— so unlike himself— and he cuts the story Mulciber was crowing on about, and he tells them he needs to complete a scroll for Slughorn.

And while he prowls away from the sight of his brother continuing to ruin everything, Regulus plunges a hand into his pocket, and crunches Bellatrix’s letter in his grasp, promises himself to write her back soon, and ignores the ache in his chest that’s only been growing larger since Sirius had left permanently.

~IV~

James’s always known.

Perhaps that’s an over reach, but it’s true enough. He’s known for years, on some level, that the thing between Sirius and Remus is something completely foreign to him. Something completely separate from how Sirius licks his face when James is over sleeping and he wants to be a general nuisance. Separate from how he and Remus have begun discussing anything and everything in the wee hours of the morning, with a spot of tea between them and a blanket on their legs, because Remus can’t sleep from the moon and James has never been able to sleep through the whole night without feeling guilty over it. He thinks it stemmed from when he was younger, when his parents were feeling sickly, and before they were gifted a house elf by a family friend who recognized that the elderly Potters needed just a bit more assistance. 

James never knew whether it was obvious to him because he’s always considered Sirius as his bastard brother since Christmas of first year, and that he’s always trying to make sure that Remus is all right after finding out just how impressively the bloke can keep secrets once Sirius figured out his furry little problem. So he’s not sure what others know, or even what Remus and Sirius  know of what’s happening between them, honestly, there have been so many almosts that James has picked up on over the years. And he still shutters thinking about the near total break that happened with the prank, still isn’t quite sure what had past between them to get Sirius and Remus  speaking with each other once more, but he does know that Remus staying with James, Sirius, and  Peter the past summer after Sirius escaping the twisted place he was suppose to call a home, is what helped indefinitely. And now, a year separate from the prank, things finally feel normal between them.

Well— Erm, not normal per se. Those idiots are still blustering and bumbling and bashfully avoiding one another when anything close to romantic comes up in a discussion or when their hands touch over the Great Hall table or whenever James makes a pointed remark when he catches one of them staring a bit too slack jawed at the other in the midst of something totally bloody innocuous in the eyes of a normal person— EG: Sirius gathering his hair— that’s nearly to the bottom of his neck now a days— into a small knot on the back of his head, or Remus sucking idly on a sugar quill while he’s revising. And sure, James has to deal with the kicks at his ankles, or a spare jinx if one of them is especially pissy, but Lily’s come to join him in the ribbing, so it kind of makes everything all right. Especially when she levels her beautiful, forrest green eyes with his own brown ones, and she actually looks sort of endeared.

Yeah— that’s a fucking amazing feeling all right, and it’s probably the memory of that happening only a few hours ago that has got James all jittery now, far past midnight. So with a tired sigh, he slides open the drapes of his fourposter, is ready to go downstairs for a kitchen raid if Remus isn’t awake— Though once he sets his glasses on, and blinks a few times over to get acclimated with the dark, he’s only a bit stunned to find the shapes of Remus and Sirius crowded on the former’s bed— and they’re really not much more than suggestions beneath the shadows, but it’s enough for James to see Sirius’s head bent low, resting it against the crook of  Moony’s neck and shoulder, while the shorter boy has got his arms wrapped around Sirius’s torso. And it’s nothing obscene, not really— it’s not like they’re nude or anything— but Sirius is shirtless, and Remus does have this blissed out expression painted over his features, that James would bet good money is the same one Sirius has got on if most of his face wasn’t covered by his hair.

And in another breath, Remus’s honey colored eyes flap open, widening exponentially when he catches sight of James, and wiggling around as if he wants to move away from Sirius completely, which is of course stunted when Sirius makes a low noise under his breath, and presses closer so that his mouth is quite literally right against Remus’s neck, and his arms tug him closer.

And James is definitely convinced that he’s the best mate any bloke could ask for when instead of chuckling at the obvious show of territorialism, he just shakes his head indulgently at them, mouthing an “About time plonker,” to Remus, who replies in kind with a hefty, two fingered salute.

This time James has to bite down to prevent his chuckle from spilling out.

“And here I was, about to offer you a snack from our dear house elves.” He whispers, hopefully quiet enough so that only Remus could hear.

“Oh, just bugger off,” Remus retorts, smiling with such mirth that James can’t even feign to be affronted over it, only follows the playful command and tries figuring out just how to give the ‘If you hurt him I’ll hurt you’ talk to the pair of them without it coming across insincerely. 

~+I~

Millie was bored until she saw them.

The only reason why Millie got this boring job in this beyond posh restaurant is because her folks reckon that she needs to learn some form of responsibility before university, and she hates it. The pay is absolute shite, and most of her coworkers are all levels of boring, and the patrons are not nearly entertaining enough to try and make up some secret back story of tumultuous affairs or secret agents from the MI6, or a royal from some country on the continent meeting their star-crossed lover.

It’s all just painfully ordinary, and she’s cursing her parents while she chomps on her gum, reading some stupid note by an ugly old fart who left her his number on the receipt. 

Scoffing while she bins it, Millie glances over to the newly occupied table in her section, heart immediately leaping once she gets a good look at the pair of blokes sitting down. 

The sandy haired one is definitely cute in that reserved way her best friend Claire would definitely be mad over— the guy who could read you poetry in French or Italian and then gently kisses the back of your hand. And that’s all and well, but Millie’s every attention is laser focussed on his mate, the one that looks like he can be bloody James Bond with those smoldering eyes and that ink black hair, and God, those cheekbones! Definitely one of those beautiful, Public school boys who’s born and bread by the patrician. And while she takes their orders, she tosses him her most flattering of grins and slips in her giggle that an ex boyfriend compared to silver bells, and is sure to flip her long, chestnut hair enough times so he’d notice, even if she’s pretty sure he’s either pissed or probably more than a bit stoned. (Truly, where the bloody hell would he come up with pumpkin juice? How horrid must that taste). 

Millie may or may not spend an unreasonable amount of time spying at them from where the cooks drop off the completed plates to be sent away. He’s just so bloody good looking, and she can’t believe this awful job has finally brought her such an amazing distraction, and the arse doesn’t even pay her much mind, leaving the ordering and the conversing to his fair haired friend.

Maybe he’s sensitive, she thinks to herself. Maybe he’s just a shy soul. And yes, that must be it! The poor, beautiful sod. She’s sure to make her intentions clear next time she thinks it’s appropriate to top off their waters, because she’s so very  gracious like that.

“Enjoying yourselves?” Millie asks in her most light hearted of cadences, filling up the shorter one’s glass but smiling fully and exclusively to the boy who looks like he should be starring in some sort of Brook’s Brothers advert.

“Ta,” the sandy haired boy says, sounding a bit amused at her dilemma, but it’s kind enough so Millie doesn’t feel brassed off over it. “Do you mind pointing me to the loo?”

“Oh of course!” She crows, suddenly ecstatic as she directs him, finally getting a chance to be alone with the model. Though when she turns her attention to him once the other one leaves to take a leak, she’s kind of confused how he’s staring after him with a glance she vividly remembers on the face of her ex whenever she’d peer back around to ensure he was watching her go— Though, if Millie’s being honest, the model somehow looks simultaneously eager to watch the back of him, but also already disheartened not to have him around in ways she doubts anyone she’s ever gone out with has ever exhibited. “He’s a nice chap,” she states, instead of marinating on the strangeness of this development.

The practical model starts, seems to have forgotten about her presence all together, but then he glances over towards her with those impossibly flattering, pale gray eyes, and he nods disinterestedly. And yeah, yikes. That is a total hit to Millie’s ego.

“Ahem,” she clears her throat, begins twisting her free hand into the material of her apron. “’S nice you guys came for dinner, you don’t see much friends considering how bloody expensive it is here, hah.”

Millie feels herself going absolutely scarlet at the impassive way he drags his gaze up and down her form before taking a swig of his Bellini. “He’s not my friend.”

“Oh,” Millie practically squeaks out, suddenly wonders if maybe he’s a tutor from his class or something? Maybe the model is just taking the cute one out to dinner as a thanks for helping him pass his A-levels? Maybe this is considered cheap in the circles that the model keeps.

“’S our one year anniversary actually,” he tells her, still in that methodical, blasé way of his. And oh. Oh wow! Suddenly everything is snapping into clarity.

The way the two boys had brushed the back of their hands before being seated, how model had trusted the other boy to order for him, how model never looked away from the cute one’s mouth or collarbones or hands as they spoke. How whenever she came around to ask if they needed anything else, it felt like she was intruding on more than just a couple of mates catching up.

Oh Jesus, she feels like such an idiot, and Millie tells the model just as much.

“I’m sorry, I’m an idiot! I didn’t even put it together.”

Remarkably, the model’s rigid posture goes a bit loose at her apology, and the corner of his thin lips quirk up into a grin. “’S fine, he didn’t want to make a fuss out of it, but yeah— Just feels good telling someone.”

Millie nods eagerly, she can’t understand exactly what he means, obviously not,  but she can definitely try to, and if it feels good for him to tell a random bird about something so important, then she’s more than happy to help. “Well the point stands, yeah? He seems like a good sort, you’re lucky to have found each other.”

The model’s grin goes elastic at that, and he looks actually approachable for the first time tonight. “I’m the luckiest bloke in the world that I get to be with him.”

Millie flushes at the intensity embedded into his statement, but thankfully doesn’t have to answer when she hears the sandy haired boy walking closer now, smiling so brightly that there’s a dimple popping up on the apple of his cheek that Millie’s only just noticed— The mirth is a good color on him, she reckons. Makes him look as gorgeous as those boys on the telly dramas her Mum is always gushing about, even his eyes turn more golden than light brown. “You pestering our waitress Padfoot?”

“You know I keep my devilish tongue for you and you alone Moonbeam,” the model—Padfoot cannot be his actual name for heaven’s sake— retorts.

“Lucky me,” the sandy haired boy says wryly as he takes a seat, and while Millie walks away— intending to get them a pudding that’s on the house to celebrate the milestone of their relationship— she peers back around only once and it’s enough to see the tips of their fingers kissing across the table, and their smiles looking like a secret language not meant for anyone else to read. 

.-

My Full Wolfstar FIC Masterlist💜

[bethansfandoms]

/post/647279129847283712/okay-so-anonymous-on-instagram-asked-me-how-do : your take on why sirius sent snape to the willow hasn't left me since you published it, so good! i know the prank has been written about time and time again, but i'd just love to see your take on the aftermath of the prank - how mad remus is, how and when and why he finds it in him to forgive sirius... your writing is incredible and i would be grateful forever if you wrote this! 🐺⭐🙏

You don't have to have read part one of this for the post to make sense <3

Sirius panicked the moment he landed on the floor of the Potter's living room.

He hadn't been thinking, he had been so scared, so in pain, that in the moment he had grabbed the floo powder and requested to be taken to James', he had temporarily forgotten that James didn't want to see him. He had been so desperate to escape from his house that he hadn't taken the time to just think.

Sirius hadn't spent Christmas at home in a long time. Usually, the marauders would stay at Hogwarts or he would go to James'. For the Christmas of his fifth year, however, he had announced that he was going home. The brief conversation in which he had informed them of this had been the most he'd spoken to them in months.

Sirius knew he wasn't welcome to spend Christmas with the marauders, not after what he'd done, not after he'd told Snape how to get past the whomping willow.

To Sirius, it didn't matter the circumstances, it didn't matter that Snape knew legilimency, that he'd been provoked, none of it mattered because the first thing Remus had told him was that he didn't want to hear excuses, and so Sirius had decided not to go against his wishes, not then and not ever again.

He'd kept his distance, it had been killing him, but he'd stayed away. The only time the four of them were together was late at night when Sirius, his head hung, would enter the dormitory, quickly walk over to his bed, and draw the curtains.

James had shouted at him more than Remus had and Sirius stood there and took it, he'd never seen James so angry, not at anybody, and so, even in the delirious state he was in, he knew he'd messed up coming to his house.

"Sirius?" Sirius took a moment before his eyes were able to focus on the doorway. James was stood in his pyjamas, only for a brief moment, before he was running to Sirius' side. "Mum! Dad! Fuck, Sirius, what happened?"

"Parents. I’m sorry," Sirius croaked.

He only caught a brief glimpse of James' parents entering the room before consciousness escaped him.

He awoke still on the floor, James and Euphemia knelt at his side. "Fleamont has locked the floo network," Euphemia said softly, "he's writing to Dumbledore now, you're safe."

James squeezed his arm, "You're staying with us. You're not going back to your parents, Padfoot." Sirius almost cried at the nickname, he'd missed it so much.

He was, however, confused. Had James forgotten to be angry at him? He didn't get much time to dwell on it, he felt his eyes closing and blackness claimed him again.

This time, he awoke in a bed, the one in the room he usually stayed him. James was there still, fiddling with his glasses. "Feel like passing out again?" he asked, smiling weakly.

Sirius tried to smile in return, "No, I think I'm alright for now.”

James nodded, "Look, Sirius, mum said... she said it looked like someone had performed the—"

"I don't want to talk about it," he whispered. James nodded in response and dropped the subject. "I'm sorry I came here," Sirius said, voice breaking, "I didn't know where else to go."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because... because of what happened in September, because I told Snape about the whomping willow. You're angry at me."

James ran his hands through his hair and sighed, "I know I said I wouldn't forgive you until Remus did, and I meant it. But I— Sirius, I told you going home was a good idea. If I'd just let you come here, been the bigger fucking person..."

"I would have gone home anyway, no matter what you said."

"Yeah," James scoffed, "you're a stubborn git like that. Look, I was about to write to Peter and Remus so they—"

"No!" Sirius had tried to sit up too suddenly and his back gave a painful twinge, "no, you can't tell Remus. He'll feel bad and forgive me and I can't have him do that until he's ready. You can't write to him."

"Alright," James said, "try and get some sleep then, okay mate?"

Sirius nodded, "Promise not to write to Remus?"

"Promise."

Sirius slowly blinked awake to daylight streaming through the curtains. He tentatively sat up, stretching as much as the pain in his bones allowed him to. Then, he almost jumped half to death.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you." Remus was smiling at him from his chair in the corner, and Sirius had missed his smile so much.

"What are you doing here? It was the full moon last night!"

"Yeah, yeah, it was," Remus sounded almost surprised that Sirius had remembered, like he would ever forget. "James wrote. I got the letter early this morning, used the floo network to get straight here. I probably look like shit.”

"I told him not to write," Sirius mumbled.

"I know, he told me. Sirius, what you did, it was... but I never wanted you to think I was so irreversibly angry that I wouldn't be here for you after something like this."

Sirius nodded sadly, biting his lip in an attempt to stop any tears. "Remus, I know you hate me for what I did, but I... I hate myself for it more than you ever could."

Remus sighed, sadly, "I don't hate you, Sirius. I think maybe I want to, but I don’t, I never could.”

"Snape knows legilimency," Sirius blurted. "I know you didn't want excuses, this isn't one, I just... I tried to block him, my mother had used it on me before, I was blocking him but he kept trying to use me to confirm you were a werewolf and I got so angry and I told him. I know it doesn't justify—"

He stopped speaking as Remus got up and walked across the room, sitting in bed next to him. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Doesn't change anything. I still told him."

Remus kicked off his shoes and pulled back the duvet, lying down and sighing. Sirius slowly mirrored his position. "I forgive you, you know."

Sirius thought he might cry. "You don't have to, just because my parents... it doesn't mean you have to feel bad for me or whatever."

"I was always going to forgive you, Sirius. I hated to admit it to myself because I was so fucking angry at you, but I knew I was always going to forgive you. So why not now?"

Sirius shuffled closer and hugged him, then. They would hug s like this sometimes after one of them had had a nightmare. Sirius had never been big fan of physical affection, not in the same way James was, but he hugged Remus tight, only relaxing when he felt Remus hug him back.

James pushed the door open slowly, he couldn't hear Remus and Sirius talking, he’d left them alone for a good hour. Briefly, he wondered if maybe they'd killed one another and that was why there was complete silence from within the room.

Instead of any casualties, he found Sirius and Remus asleep, the duvet over them but not enough to hide the way their limbs were tangled together.

He sighed to himself. He'd found them this way before, some mornings in the dormitory, the two of them sleeping soundly in bed together for reasons he didn't quite know.

"Knew I was right to send Remus an owl," he muttered to himself, closing the door and letting them sleep.