#the marauders ff

[angelfic]

— CALM AFTER THE STORM

pairing: remus lupin x reader

summary: the 4 times you hate each other, and the one time you don’t. alternatively, remus lupin is a pain in your arse and yours alone.

warnings: enemies to lovers, swearing, kissing, mention of blood and wounds, some bad writing as always which is unedited

author’s note: just a little e2l fic for my own indulgence as its my fave trope and its criminal how i barely have any e2l fics… also haven’t written anything in ages soooo enjoy!

when he just has to be controversial

The sun was beaming, colourful rays reflecting over your book through the stained-glass windows of the Gryffindor common room as you lounged on the sofa with your head in Lily’s lap. You were barely paying attention to the chatter of your friends around you, choosing to focus on your copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ and Marlene’s soft guitar playing. The lazy afternoon is a welcome break from the increasingly stressful N.E.W.T lessons that have had you all so exhausted, you’re not sure if Peter is asleep or dead from his curled-up position on the rug.

You don’t even realise someone is saying your name until Marlene tickles the sole of your socked foot with her guitar pick, making you yelp and draw your legs in from where they were previously tucked in between Marlene and her guitar.

“What was that for?” you grumble, nudging her arm with your foot.

Marlene smirks, nodding over to James. “He told me to get your attention. Didn’t specify how.”

You roll your eyes and turn on your side to face the boy in question, his grin unfaltering as he multitasks polishing the handle of his broomstick and talking to you. “Not my fault you’re dead to the world when you’re reading,” he says, matter-of-fact, continuing when you raise your eyebrows in impatience. “I was just wondering how you could look so interested in that book. Remus said he’d do my homework for a month if I finished it the other day and I couldn’t get past five arse-numbingly dull pages.”

You scoff, adjusting your position again to face Remus as well. “And why was Remus betting you to read my book, exactly?”

“It was my copy,” Remus replies, scribbling away on his parchment, cross legged on his chair, to undoubtedly finish the Potions essay that Slughorn had set yesterday. You’re transfixed on the way his hand is moving across the page for a second, unable to fathom how someone can have such messy handwriting. You aren’t surprised in the slightest that the next words coming out of his mouth are ones you disagree with. “I wanted to see how long he lasted reading the slowest-paced book in the world.”

You abruptly sit up at this, shutting your book and forgetting plans of relaxation.

“Hey, watch it!” Lily exclaims, lifting the bottle of black polish she’s using to paint Sirius’ nails from its balanced position on her thigh to avoid you spilling it all over her white top. “If you’re about to argue, please refrain from throwing things until after I’ve done the second coat of nail polish.”

You pointedly ignore this and narrow your eyes at Remus who, infuriatingly, still hasn’t lifted his head from his essay. “I’m surprised you found it hard to read such a slow book. Thought that’d be perfect for you.”

“Look what you’ve started, Prongs,” Sirius sighs, examining his nails.

Seeing the corners of Remus’ lips pull up into a slight smile at your comment just spurs you on in defence of the book you were previously enjoying. “Besides, it’s about a real-life teenager with real-life struggles, not The Hobbit on his latest adventure.”

“Who’s Hobbit?” James mumbles, scratching his head in confusion as Marlene just shrugs, equally oblivious.

“It’s overrated,” Remus insists, finally setting down his quill to look at you. The amused expression still hasn’t left his face and you make a noise halfway between a scoff and a high-pitched squeal of indignance. “Even James agrees.”

“Oh, and James’ opinion on literature is the standard now?” You raise a brow, tutting when James starts to protest. “The only book James has finished in the last six years was Quidditch Through the Ages.”

The way James slowly slides the aforementioned book under one of the sofa cushions doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Sirius starts snickering, much to Lily’s annoyance as she tries to control his hand. “She got you there, in fairness, mate.”

Sirius’ chortling seems to stir Peter from his sleep and he opens one eye to peer at you. Seeming to catch sight of your irritated expression, he frowns. “Are these two arguing like an old married couple again?”

“Merlin help us if these two ever decide to get married,” Marlene utters under her breath, bent over her guitar and avoiding the weight of your glare.

“Yeah, he wishes,” you grumble, shuffling around on the sofa to get back into a comfortable position with your book. Remus’ smile has only widened in response and he seems to enjoy your discomfort as you overcompensate for showing your annoyance by wriggling about.

“I dream about it every night,” Remus replies, dryly and Peter giggles below you before turning over to sleep again.  

You overcompensate a little too much by moving around, because Lily huffs from beside you and starts scrambling around for a tissue. “What did I say about the second coat?”

“I didn’t throw anything this time!”

2. when he won’t let you give someone a black eye

Defence Against the Dark Arts is your favourite N.E.W.T subject for a lot of reasons. You enjoy the lesson content, it’ll be useful in future years, and it’s the one lesson you share with every single one of your friends.

You’ve gotten used to James and Sirius messing around while Professor Marigold recites fact after fact about spells and creatures and wizards of dark nature. Its like soothing background noise to you and your classmates who all concentrate in silence most of the time.

Which is why your quill stops on your page and leaves a growing ink blot when you hear snickering and whispers from the other side of the classroom rather than from in front of you where the marauders sit in a line.

The scoffs of disgust coming from Snape and Mulciber are loud enough to attract the attention of the rest of the students and even the teacher, who eventually sets down her piece of chalk in the middle of talking about Wolfsbane potion with an impatient sigh.

“Is there some sort of pressing issue that can’t wait until after class to discuss, boys?” Professor Marigold asks with a tone of ire that would impress Professor McGonagall. “Even Black and Potter have decided to give it a rest today.”

She’s not wrong, you think, noting how they’ve been less disruptive than usual for this lesson, probably tired out from setting each other’s robes on fire in Charms the hour before.

“The pressing issue is werewolves,” Snape mutters quietly, as though he doesn’t want to make a big issue but can’t stop himself from speaking up. “We should be learning more about how to kill them and less about the price of potion ingredients.”

Lily gasps from beside you and Sirius and James tense up at his words. Remus doesn’t lift his head, but you absently notice how his grip tightens around his quill when Peter nervously turns to him. Peter isn’t one for conflict and he’s always been nervous around this particular group of Slytherins, so you’re not surprised he’s anxious.

“Werewolves are still people, you can’t just go around killing them!” you find your mouth moving on its own, before your brain can catch up. When Snape turns to direct his scowl at you, its matched by your own as well as Lily’s disappointed frown. “They didn’t ask to be werewolves, they physically can’t help it! How would you feel if people wanted to kill you for not being able to control being such an arse.”

“Miss Y/L/N,” Professor Marigold warns, setting her stern eyes on you. You’re not one for disrupting lessons or getting into trouble, so when Remus turns around to look at you with a raised eyebrow, your cheeks start to warm and you stubbornly don’t look his way again.

Snape ignores her to continue glaring at you. “I don’t have the capacity to kill people in a feral rage now, do I?” His gaze flits from you to Lily and Marlene and then lingers on the boys. “Of course, you’re defending werewolves. It’s no surprise considering who you choose to associate yourself with.”

“Mr Snape.”

“You have no need to fly into a feral rage to kill people,” you reply, voice steadily rising in volume. Sirius and James turn their heads back and forth like they’re watching a tennis match and you know the only reason they haven’t piped up to agree with you is because they’re too entertained watching the way you’re about to jump out of your seat to pounce on Snape. “All you need to do is show someone your face for them to die of fright–”

“ENOUGH!” Professor Marigold’s booming voice cuts through the laughter of everyone on the Gryffindor side of the classroom and when you turn to look at her, you see even Remus’ shoulders are shaking with silent laughter. You’re not sure why this pleases you, but it doesn’t last long enough for you to figure it out before Marigold waves her wand in the direction of the door and sends it flying open. “Both of you will wait for me outside the classroom until the lesson has finished so I can discuss your appalling behaviour.”

You gape at her for a second, before relenting and grabbing your bag, not wanting to argue with her authority. Your friends have different ideas.

“That’s not fair!” Marlene exclaims, standing up in protest. “She didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“Yeah,” James agrees, also standing up. “Snape’s the one who was being an annoying pri–”

“Sit down, everyone,” Marigold cuts him off, pursing her lips. “Everyone except Mr Snape and Miss Y/L/N. Do not even think about speaking Mr Black, or I won’t hesitate to suspend your and Mr Potter’s Quidditch privileges until further notice.”

Sirius shuts his mouth after a nudge from James and you shoot your friends a grateful smile before making your way out of the classroom, followed closely by Snape.

The door shuts behind him and you don’t bother sparing him a glance before dumping your bag on the ground and leaning against a wall to focus your gaze on a suit of armour for the next five minutes. You’re about half a minute in when you notice that one of the hands are slightly wonky and the classroom door suddenly opens.

Remus, of all people, enters the hallway to join the two of you and quickly shuts the door.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, furrowing your brows and getting up from against the wall.

“Yeah, what are you doing here?” Snape sneers at him, and you give him a scathing look before turning to Remus for an answer.

Remus pointedly ignores him to stand next to you against the brick wall. “I just pointed out to Professor Marigold that you both have your wands and she may not have two students left out here by the end of the lesson.”

“I can defend myself,” you snort, folding your arms. You aren’t sure if you’re annoyed that Remus is insinuating otherwise, or if you’re touched that he doesn’t want you to be hexed into oblivion by Snape. “Especially from him.”

“Oh, I know,” Remus raises both hands in surrender as his tone becomes grave. “It’s not you I’m worried about, trouble.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan, rolling your eyes at the nickname. He started it around a year ago when you got your first ever detention for helping Sirius and James Charm the Slytherin chairs to throw them off every time someone sat. Your friends had kept quiet about your involvement, but Peeves had spotted you, the nosy bastard. The nickname stemmed from the fact it was the first time you had ever gotten into trouble and it never failed to irritate you. “You better be careful I don’t hex you.”

“I wouldn’t dream of annoying you,” he says, but the serious tone of voice is ruined by the way his lips are twitching in an attempt not to laugh at you. “After what happened when I said I didn’t like that one Jane Austen book? Forget it.”

“Hey, you insulted one of my favourite characters,” you point out, resting a hand on your hip. “What did Emma ever do to you? You had that hex coming.”

“I had pink hair for a week,” Remus narrows his eyes at you, but you can tell he isn’t really angry. Although he refuses to admit it, you know for a fact he didn’t hate the pink hair considering how good he looked with it. An annoying indiscretion on your part. Remus looks behind you for a split second before leaning in a little to whisper. “I won’t get in the way if you want to turn Snape’s hair pink, though. Preferably a very bright shade of flaming, hot pink.”

At risk of your own cheeks flaming up from how close he is – really, what’s the need? – you shake your head let your hair fall into your face. Almost having forgotten Snape is also there, you start when he scoffs (for what you think is the millionth time this afternoon) and you sigh before facing him begrudgingly. “What now?”

“Couldn’t handle the content of today’s lesson?” he asks, tiling his head. You’re about to ask him what the hell he’s talking about before you realise, he isn’t actually talking to you, but to the boy behind you.

“Uh…” you trail off, not sure how to respond. All three of you currently standing in the corridor know that Remus is smart enough to tackle any type of content, especially something as memorable and interesting as werewolves.

Remus’ amused demeanour has been wiped away and you can’t determine his exact expression, but his voice is cold when he talks to you. “Just ignore him.”

“You and your group of friends can’t help themselves when it comes to defending strays and all sorts,” Snape continues, much to your confusion. “It’s not enough that you’re a group full of blood-traitors and mudbloods…”

Remus tenses up behind you and you find yourself frozen for a second.

The next thing you know, you’re lunging at the greasy-haired Slytherin with every intention of hurting his face with your fists, wand long forgotten. Your fingers barely brush his robes, however, when you feel yourself being hauled back by strong arms that wrap around your middle.

“Let go!” you snarl, enjoying the way Snape has backed away, eyes wide and worried. “Did you hear what he said? Remus, let me go.”

He doesn’t relent, still holding onto you when he leans down to speak in your ear. “You’ve already gotten into trouble. You’ll get into a whole lot more when everyone walks out to see Snape with a black eye and you with bruised knuckles.”

“Worth it,” you grit out, still pulling away from his grip and throwing daggers with your eyes at Snape. After a few more seconds of pointless struggling, you relax very slightly just to turn in his arms so you can direct your next words to him more pointedly. “Not only is he a slimy, blood-supremacist twat, but he also wants to kill a poor bunch of werewolves. We should be throwing him into the bloody Black Lake!”

“I know, I-” Remus is cut off when the door opens and students start flooding into the corridor to provide a barrier between you and Snape, indicating the end of the lesson. Remus finally lets you go when he realises you’re in direct view of Professor Marigold who stands behind her desk, waiting for you. “I had no idea you were such an advocate for werewolves.”

It’s the last thing you expected him to say and you immediately look up at him and frown. “Again, they’re people. They don’t deserve to be victims of prejudice just as no one does.” He doesn’t respond, staring at you with an unreadable expression and a hint of a smile. Your frown deepens in confusion. Was he… laughing at you? Especially after you had just gotten along. “I’m so glad you find me amusing,” you say, scowling and storming back into the classroom and away from Remus.

3. when he's too good for flower crowns.

“Tell it again,” James insists, grin wide as ever plastered onto his face despite the withering look you send his way. “Getting a glimpse at even the possibility of Snivellus getting pummelled by Y/N would have made my entire year.”

“The galleons I’d give up to have been there,” Sirius releases a wistful sigh, closing his eyes as he lies down, facing the sun.

You hand him the daisy chain crown you just finished and he dutifully dons it. “I’ll alert the Ministry of Magic to order in a time-turner for an issue of utmost urgency,” you say sarcastically as you start on the next daisy chain. Sirius merely winks at you.

“I think you should’ve let her have at him, Remus,” Marlene states, unapologetic. You nod vehemently in agreement, a little too enthusiastically as you end up splitting a daisy down the middle.

Lily tuts, adjusting her own flower crown as it slips against her silky red hair. “I’m glad you didn’t. Godric knows what Professor Marigold would have done,” she shudders at the thought, ever the diligent student.

“Forget Marigold,” Peter chimes in. “Imagine what Professor McGonagall would have done.”

You don’t miss how he looks over his shoulder in case your head of house is taking a stroll along the grassy grounds.

“She would have combusted when you called him an ugly arse,” Remus pipes in, unhelpfully might you add, from where he sits slightly away from the group under a tree, reading.

The comment sends Marlene, Sirius and Peter into a fit of laughter – James is too busy staring at the way the sun is making Lily look ethereal and she’s too busy pretending not to notice while being secretly pleased. Doing a quick survey of your friends, you see everyone now has a flower crown except Remus. You make your way to the tree he’s resting against while the others chat, and sit yourself down with purpose.

Remus lowers his book very slightly to peer at you and your too-sweet smile. He raises a sceptical brow. “Should I be scared right now?”

You drop the fake smile and hold up your flower crown expectantly. “Everyone has one, but you.”

“How observant,” he says, setting his book down to look at you in mock astonishment. “Have the Aurors at the Ministry caught wind of you yet?”

“Don’t be a pain,” you groan, dropping it onto his open book. “I want everyone to wear one for the picture!”

Remus sighs, looking at the large camera over by your bag. You had saved up all summer to buy a magical camera to be able to take pictures of you and your friends in your final year at Hogwarts. The time you used your own muggle camera was a disaster of sparks and broken bits of plastic that took hours to mend. “I already agreed to your incessant picture-taking,” he reminds you, acting like it’s the most painful thing in the world. “The flower crown is not happening.”

“Fine, you miserable git,” you flick a handful of grass at him, sending him sputtering. “Now come and sit for the photo.”

You return to the group with Remus behind you and get everyone in position before hunting down someone to take the photo. Glancing around, you spot a close bunch of first-years and send Lily to use her Head Girl credentials (and warm and inviting personality, of course) to rope one of them into coming over.

“Okay, smile everyone,” you order, plopping down on the grass next to James. You elbow him in the ribs, not even having to look at him to know what he’s doing. “Stop looking at Lily and look at the camera.”

With a couple of mutterings and some nudging, the nervous first-year Hufflepuff girl shakily takes the picture and hurriedly hands you the camera in the middle of the picture sliding out of it. James and Sirius go back to playing with a golden Snitch while Peter watches, while Remus returns to his book.

Lily looks at the picture and coos over how cute everyone looks at the same time as Marlene complaining about her hair. You impatiently take the picture back to slide it into your photo album and something catches your eye.

Sirius is making a peace sign behind Remus’ head. His head that wears a flower crown.

4. when he bleeds out on you.

You’re not sure what time it is – either very late at night, or very early in the morning. You do know, however, that you want to finish your Herbology essay so you can enjoy tomorrow (or today) and cheer your friends on in the Gryffindor vs Ravenclaw Quidditch game. You only have the conclusion left and you’re confident it’ll be done in the next ten minutes.

If you can find your damned quill, that is. You could have sworn you had it ten minutes ago, just before you snuck down to the kitchens to persuade the house-elves to give you the strongest cup of coffee they could make. You take a quick sip and grimace at the lukewarm temperature before setting it down and getting up to search. After turning every sofa cushion upside down, you go to crouch behind the sofa.

You hear the door to the common room being swung open and the hushed voices of the Marauders enter, but you don’t take too much notice as you squint for your quill. It isn’t unusual for the boys to be roaming around the castle at odd hours of the night, but a hiss of pain grabs your attention at the same time you spot the quill.

“Can you guys manage taking him up to the-” Sirius cuts himself off when your face pops up from behind the sofa. He freezes in his efforts to hold up Remus, who you notice is leaning on him and James and Merlin’s balls he’s covered in blood.

“What the fuck happened to him?” Your voice comes out weak as you walk over to the boys. Remus has deep, bleeding slashes over his chest and an assortment of little cuts on his face and hands. He seems barely able to keep his eyes open but when his gaze meets yours, he winces. He isn’t the only one hurt and you realise Sirius’ arm is damp with blood and trembling, the same going for James’ thigh. “What the fuck happened to all of you, oh my God…?”

“Peter, you were supposed to keep watch,” James hisses at the boy who looks like a deer in headlights. He looks a lot better than the others, with only a couple of small cuts scattered around his face and arms.

“She was behind the sofa!”

James’ leg buckles and you snap out of your state of shock to dart forward and keep him steady. “Right. Shit, okay,” you breathe out, holding off asking any questions to prevent anyone from bleeding out. “James, Sirius, set Remus down on the sofa and take off his shirt. Peter, help these two up the stairs and go find a first-aid kit or something.”

“We’ve got a couple in the dorm,” Sirius says, summoning one of them down with a quick Accio and handing it to you. He hesitates for a second, probably unsure if he should stay and explain things, before deciding to turn in the direction of the stairs with James as Peter rushes to help them up. “Look after him, please. We’ll be right back, Moony.”

“Take your time, I’ve got him,” you utter, already fiddling with the first-aid box and trying to open it with shaky hands. You’re no healer, but you know enough to panic when you see Remus has had his eyes closed for the last few seconds. “Remus, keep your eyes open!”

He groans, cracking one eye open to look at you. “I’m injured and bleeding out and you still manage to yell at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling,” you frown, unscrewing the bottle of dittany and scrambling for the cotton pads. You try to avoid Remus’ gaze because you feel extremely silly about being more panicked than him when he’s the one with claw marks down his chest. “Don’t move, or it’ll hurt.”

While dabbing the liquid onto the deep gashes in an attempt to close them up, you ponder on the fact that he probably knows it hurts from experience. You’re not completely clueless.

“What are you thinking?” Remus whispers in the stifling quiet of the common room, looking unsure.

You don’t cease in your movements, changing cotton pad after cotton pad. It takes you a minute to muster up the courage to meet Remus’ gaze again and this time he looks more nervous than you’ve ever seen him. “You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?”

Remus gives you an almost imperceptible nod, like he doesn’t want to admit to it. You take a deep breath.

“Who else knows?” you ask calmly, as if you’re asking him about the weather.

“The boys and Lily,” he admits, swallowing hard. “Oh, and Snape.”

“Snape?” you exclaim, halting your dabbing to gawp at Remus. “I’m not saying you had to tell me or anything, but Snape?”

 Remus winces and you don’t think it has anything to do with his injuries. “In my defence he found out on his own and hates me for it,” he rushes out. “And it’s not that I didn’t want to tell you… I-”

“It’s fine,” you cut him off, waving him off and wondering how good you’re hiding the fact you’re a little hurt. “You didn’t have to tell me.”

“No, I wanted to. I did,” Remus insists, looking earnest. There’s something in his voice that’s a little pained and desperate that has you meeting his eyes. “I just couldn’t have dealt with it if you started looking at me differently. The boys and Lily sometimes do, y’know? Like I’m made of glass or something. It’s refreshing whenever you scowl at me or call me an idiot or an arse or a stupid gi-”

“Okay,” you stop him, stifling a grin. “I get it!”

Remus’ eyes flash with relief for a second before you notice doubt start to creep in again. “You don’t need to hide it, by the way. I won’t hold it against you if… If you’re scared or disgusted, or-”

“What?” you cut him off again and scrunch your nose in confusion. “I’m not scared or disgusted. Why would you think that?”

“You’ve been a bit too calm,” he points out.

Rolling your eyes, you grab a bandage to start patching up the worst of the injuries before you move onto the minor cuts and bruises. “I didn’t want you to think I was freaking out, or looking at you differently,” you quote his own words to him with a pointed look, making him smile again. “I don’t, you know. Think of you any differently, I mean.”

His expression is unreadable as he just looks at you and you just look at him, bandage hovering over his chest before his fingers come up to brush the back of your hand. He lightly holds your hand, softly running his thumb over your knuckle as his voice drops to a whisper again. “Thank you.”

You offer him a gentle smile, holding his gaze for a second longer before focusing on bandaging him up again. His hand drops to the side and you oddly find yourself missing his warmth. The large bandage adheres to his skin and you run your fingers along the sides to stick them down, feeling him shudder under your touch.

You quickly busy yourself with looking for more supplies in the kit to hide the way your own breathing has increased slightly. “Hey, anyway, I almost walloped Snape right in the eye for you. If that wasn’t any indication of my standing on werewolves, I don’t know what is.”

“Ah, my knight in shining armour,” Remus chuckles before breaking into a wheeze as the muscles of his injured abdomen contract. “Fuck, don’t make me laugh.”

“Don’t laugh at me then!”

5. when you’re definitely not jealous… you’re not!

Three cups of coffee. You’re on three cups of coffee. It’s also the same number of hours you’ve slept and by Godric can you feel it in every inch of your body as the muted chatter of the Great Hall buzzes around you. Your head is in your hands as you contemplate stealing some Polyjuice potion and bribing a first-year to take a dose with your hair in it so you can go to bed and they can pretend to watch the Quidditch match.

You knock back the last sip of coffee when you sense a presence sliding onto the bench in front of you. Groggily setting the cup down, you see that its Remus. It takes a second to remember why this is concerning.

“Morning, h- Wait, what the hell are you doing out of bed?” you hiss, leaning forward to avoid anyone listening in. You scan your eyes over his chest, two seconds away from ripping his shirt off to check his bandages. “How are you even standing?”

“Relax, Florence Nightingale,” Remus says, rolling his eyes at your dramatics. He does his own quick sweep of the table and sees that most people are out in the Quidditch stands already, so he proceeds to pull the neckline of his shirt down slightly to reveal an already fading scar. No bleeding in sight. “I went to Madame Pomfrey with the boys this morning and she hurried up the process like she usually does. I feel achier than a 90-year-old woman with a metal hip, but the brunt of it is gone and Pads and Prongs are good as new.”

“Okay,” you say slowly, narrowing your eyes slightly. “If you’re sure you can sit out in the stands…”

“I can once I’ve consumed every cup of tea on the premises,” he says, reaching for the teapot. An annoyingly smug smirk starts to appear on his face while he pours. “What, are you worried about me, trouble?”

You scowl instantly. “No, I just don’t want you collapsing on me in the Quidditch stands while I’m cheering the boys on.”

“Right.” He hides his grin behind his cup of tea.

“Hey,” you mumble, nodding to Patricia Holloway who looks like she’s making a beeline to your table. More specifically, towards Remus. “Bright and cheery Hufflepuff incoming.”

“Merlin, it’s too early for this,” Remus whispers, taking another sip of tea before his face breaks out into a charming smile directed at the girl who slides into the empty seat next to him. “Morning, Patricia.”

“You look good today, Remus,” Patricia rests her elbow on the table and tilts her head to look at him with simpering eyes. It’s no secret Remus is good-looking and you’ve heard a million girls talk about him before. You’ve never seen any of them approach him yourself, though. You can’t say you enjoy it. “Are you… okay, Y/N?”

You didn’t realise you were scowling until she addresses you and you rapidly smooth out your expression, clearing your throat. Remus looks amused, which makes it harder to keep the scowl off your face. “Fine! I’m fine, just a bit confused since Remus looks half asleep,” you attempt a laugh through gritted teeth and are spurred on when Remus is actively trying to fight a grin. “And his hair currently makes him look like he’s been dragged through the Forbidden Forest.”

He can’t stop himself snorting at that, but Patricia just looks confused as though unsure how to react. She settles on a nervous little laugh, turning back to him. “I can fix that for you, here,” she says, scooting closer and starts to run her hands through Remus’ hair. You poke your cheek with your tongue, marvelling at how bold she’s being and how Remus is just sat there, still looking amused as ever. “There, what do you think?”

“A hairbrush couldn’t have done a better job,” you deadpan, softening your expression slightly when Patricia begins to look a little disconcerted. “You keep doing that, I’m going to head off to the Quidditch field.”

You all but storm out of the Great Hall, exhaustion having left you completely. It’s replaced by a newfound whirl of irritation that pools in your stomach and creeps up your throat, making you feel a little sick. It must be the coffee, you think, and you’re trying to remember if the beverage has ever made you experience this when all of a sudden there’s a hand circling your wrist.

“Stop, Y/N,” Remus says, a little breathless. You didn’t realise he’d run out after you and you feel bad about his injuries before your gaze snags on his newly tousled hair. “Godric, you walk fast.”

“I didn’t ask you to catch up to me,” you snap, purposely scowling this time. The cheeky bastard still looks amused and your irritation is growing faster than ever. “Besides, the match doesn’t start for another fifteen minutes. Plenty of time for Patricia to give you a whole new hairdo. Maybe she can give you plaits or– Why are you laughing.”

“You’re jealous,” he exhales with a smile, sounding positively delighted. Any feelings of concern have disappeared and are being rapidly replaced with wanting to thwack him upside the head. “Oh my God, you really are jealous.”

“Jealous, my arse,” you scoff, turning your back to him with every intention of speed walking out of the castle. His long legs keep up with you easily and he rushes in front of you to stop you going anywhere. You glare at him. “Leave me alone, Lupin.”

“Not until you admit that you’re jealous.” Remus is positively giddy with glee and you feel a flush of heat crawling up your neck. You set your jaw stubbornly and he’s incredulous as he shakes his head. “Merlin, you really have to argue with me on everything don’t you? I don’t care about Patricia Holloway and I’m glad you’re jealous. Means you’re less likely to break my nose when I kiss you.”

You barely get the chance to make an incoherent noise when Remus grabs you by the waist and presses his lips against yours, kissing you like he isn’t prepared to let you go anytime soon. His mouth slides hot and wet against your own and you gasp into the kiss when he nips lightly at your lip, your hands coming up to slide into his hair, making it unruly all over again.

Remus is the first to break apart, too soon, and you physically restrain yourself from chasing after his lips. He pulls back slightly, breathing fast to look into your eyes, searching for the answer you’re unable to speak yet.

“You… uh, I-I’m…” you trail off, dazed and breathless and head swirling with every emotion under the sun.

Remus laughs, pulling you impossibly close and leaving a soft kiss on your jaw, which doesn’t help your current speech issues. “If I knew that was all it took to shut you up, I’d have kissed you years ago.”

“Wha-!” You slap his arm, snapping out of the haze. You hide your current uncertainty behind a glare. It hit you like a ton of bricks, but you realised about five seconds into the kiss that you wanted Remus Lupin in every way, shape and form. You’re more than a little terrified, so what better defence mechanism than anger? “Why did you actually kiss me, you prick?”

“You are the densest, most clueless,” Remus begins, pausing to kiss you lightly a couple times when you start to scowl. “Most stubborn and most beautiful little witch I’ve ever known. And if you haven’t figured out after almost seven years that I love you, then I’m afraid we might have to admit you to St Mungo’s, because really-”

“Stop,” you whisper, lifting a finger to press against his lips, effectively silencing him. “You love me? You actually, seriously love me?”

He rolls his eyes and nods, like it’s obvious or something. You huff. “Then why have you been such an annoying pain in my bloody arse, Remus Lupin?!”

“Because,” he says, the word coming out muffled and you hastily remove your finger. “It was a good way to keep your attention. Plus, I like when you’re angry. It’s cute.”

You scowl without thinking and his smile impossibly widens.

“See?”

“Shut up and kiss me again,” you say dryly, pulling him in by the collar to give him a short, searing kiss. “Oh, and I guess I love you too.”

“So, no broken noses in my future?” Remus asks hopefully, softly sliding his nose against yours.

“No promises.”

© angelfic 2023.

[littleliterarylesbian]

it is 4am and all I can think about is dark obsessive jegulus rn.

just hear me out, the cloak and the map? perfect stalking material. Maybe it starts off innocent, James just wanting to check up on Regulus for some reason or James wanting to know more about his best friend's little brother but it spirals out of control quickly. One moment he's watching Regulus' name move on the map, the next he's under the cloak and trying his hardest not to be detected. He's sneaking into the Slytherin dorms, he's trying to figure out how close Regulus' friends actually are to him.

and I feel like I don't have to explain at all for Regulus, I feel his family name and legacy speaks up plenty. Regulus is smart, Regulus is cunning. He caught on quite quickly that he was getting trailed around. Maybe not knowing who at first, but he at least can tell when footsteps not matching his own sound off around him. He mentions wanting one thing, within the week it's his, he mentions doing something but just being too busy, suddenly at least half of his plans are cancelled. He mentions wanting someone gone and suddenly they're just simply buried six feet under. He eats up the power he's given. Then he finds out it's James Potter behind it all and suddenly it just got 10x better.

blah blah blah they're sick freaks and they fall in love and are crazy about each other. Carved their names into each other's skin and EVERYTHING. I just want freak4freak jegulus.

[myprongsfootera]

I cannot stop thinking about that "Sirius killed for James, died for Harry, but lived for Remus" post

No.

Stop it.

I want to squirt water like "bad fandom"

Sirius stayed sane in Azkaban solely to avenge James's murder and try to protect Harry. It was about the two of them and Peter. If Remus ranked on the list it was a very distant fourth.

When Sirius came back, his *sole focus* was how to protect Harry. He lived alone as a dog feeding on scraps for most of his time post-Azkaban. He was only with Remus a tiny fraction of the time at the end, and even then it was with a primary focus of how to work together to protect Harry.

James's son.

It all comes back to him for Sirius.

He killed, lived, and died for James. All of it. Over and over, he was willing to do all of it for James.

Fucking Remus, who?

[siriuslylu]

URL song game with a twist!

Write down your url only using songs from your Top Songs of 2024 playlist and tag as many people as the letters in your url! 🎶🕺

This seems so much fun!! Thanks @ultravioletbrit for tagging me 💜

• S - smoke sprite by So!YoON! ft RM

• I - imgonnagetyouback by taylor swift

• R - RM - moonchild *

• I - it ain’t easy by david bowie

• U - you name it by nils frahm **

• S - so long london by taylor swift

• L - lady stardust by david bowie

• Y - you by the pretty reckless

• L - let you break my heart again by laufey

• U - goo goo muck by the cramps **

* I had to switch to artist instead because I didn’t have a song starting with that letter on my playlist

** I played it on shuffle and wrote down what I got because I didn’t have neither a song or an artist starting with that letter 🥲

This was HARD, I struggled so much with the letter U 😭, I can’t believe I couldn’t find anything that’d fit, but still, I had very few options because I always read with an instrumental piano playlist on the background and literally half my playlist was just piano lol, but still, I had fun, I’d love to see your results!

I’m tagging @lyr-caelum ✨ but anyone can do it!

[reggiescat1]

the hardest part in writing marauders fanfictions is creating pranks because what do you mean i have to think like james and sirius and pull the dumbest prank ever?

[wild-flowerhoney]

"i dont understand how you can ship-" you're no fun.

"they're the blueprint! canon! why would you-" you're boring. shush. go back to playing with your sad beige toys.

[anunfortunatekinlist]

marauders fans: we separated the art from the artist, this fandom is completely separate from the source material;

also them, will degrade any writer who doesn't write a coffee shop au, or university au, or jegulus in the only acceptable grumpyboyxsunshineboy trope, bullying artists for drawing sirius with body hair, bullying writers for not writing your exact headcanons, not allowing for people to grow their own opinions (aka. making ATYD the "intro-fic"), and not supporting artists and writers who are not the fandoms "it-person" for the week.

Bro at this point give it back to that ugly terf.

[futurecorps3]

Hii, could you maybe write Remus with a big titty gf? I’m obsessed with the James one btw, I love the way you write the boys!! <3

𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐮𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐲!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Masterlist<3

MINORS STAY AWAY I'LL BLOCK EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, THIS IS +18!!!

See also… All marauders versions in my marauders masterlist<3 (Sirius’ is up!!!)

oh my baby boy <3 I LOVE THIS OFC!! Now I gotta do a Sirius one too hehe. Tysm nonnie! Hope u like it

-We know Moony’s partner would have one of his sweaters at all times, right?

-He loves when you wear his clothes and how your tits look in them BUT

-HE ABSOLUTELY ADOOOORES HOLDING THEM WHEN YOURE WEARING HIS SWEATERS

-“For comfort, love. Helps m’sleep” he says as you’re about to take a nap in his dorm, voice deep and laced in tiredness “‘Course baby”.

-You think he’s just saying that but they do help him sleep, they’re warm and soft and :(

- While James is more of a buries his face in them, Remus just kind of

-Holds them gently, maybe even kneads them a bit

-He’s a smug, teasing bastard so he loves how you squirm when he moves his hands a bit too much<3

-“You alright there, luv?” while home smirks like PLEAAAAASE

-He’s not one to do stuff near the boys but

-He THRIVES when the boys stare at them but try to look away to be respectful!!!

-LIKE YES THOSE ARE HIS WHAT ABOUT IT

-Now if someone else is staring

-He gets so protective over you and so SO angry

-I think Remus has a very quiet anger, he very rarely blows up so he stares at them first (kind of like a Henry Winter stare iykyk)

-Then says something like “The fuck you staring at, mate?” but SO CALMLY ITS SCARY

-The other person usually gets so nervous they have no other option but to leave

-I feel like

-He loves seeing you in tight sweaters rather than clothes that purposely show your cleavage like crop tops

-If you like to wear those go ahead by all means, he enjoys the view! But yeah, he loves a good black turtleneck or knitted sweater that fits tightly to your pretty tits <333

-He likes when you sit on his lap, real close to him because your boobs push all the way up into his face

-Remus Lupin lays on your chest when he needs to relax

-What’s not to love about it? He can hear your heartbeat, read his books or hear you talk, maybe even doze off if he feels like it

-Lover boy is so very respectful ofc, if you don’t feel comfortable with any of those things he’ll understand

-But if you do, know he’ll always have time to take care of them or you, even when that means putting his assignments on hold for a while<3

[ecstarry]

do you ever stop and think like at least once someone connected to the white house wifi and opened ao3

[mo0ns-and-stars]

I read a headcanon that our lovely sunshine James potter was actually supposed to have a little sibling that never made it into this world and that's why he's so protective of Sirius and the others.

I'm not okay

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52605949

[jegulushq]

I love jealous James Potter so freaking much!!! I love when he's possessive in secret and this makes it difficult for him to be his usual overly friendly and nice self even if he tries to be civil... he's dying internally from seeing Regulus interact with other men before they get together, and I also love when Reggie likes to see him jealous and is provoking it a little for fun 🤭🤭🤭

[mylavellan]

No hate towards the writer or the fans but really it’s not my cup of tea.

[incorrectwolfstar]

“regulus’ animagi is a black cat” “regulus’ animagi is a ginger cat” regulus black’s animagi is a skinny brown cat that doesn’t have a meow and has patches of fur missing from it’s back legs. regulus black’s animagi was taken in by remus lupin after james and lily potter’s deaths because he thought that cat has probably lost somebody too. regulus black’s animagi is one of those cats that nobody knows the age of and just won’t die and is not like other cats.

[thevampireslovelywife]

Jily IS superior to jegulus actually. Because jegulus is JAMES BASHING and doesn’t make any sense at all.

Jegulus isn’t a ship at all it’s a disgusting twisted bigotry loving fetish

You people are fucking delusional nazi-sympathisers and nobody wants disgusting pieces of shit like you in the fandom.

im not a fucking nazi sympathizer, I never was and never will be

the fact that you leap from someone liking a ship to that is INSANE, do you think you can get that through your fucking skull, or are you too obsessed with your Jily superiority complex to see that

IMMA MAKE THIS CLEAR NOW— JEGULUS ISN'T EVEN MY FAVORITE FUCKING SHIP, BUT ALL THIS DAMN HATE NEEDS TO FUCKING STOP

And I don't think a bitch like you is one to name call at all

and the fact that you went anon to fucking say this says alot

anymore of these and I'm deleting them idfc

if anyone wants to add on go ahead, im sick and tired of this bullshit honestly

I did my dues a week ago when arguing with a fucking ADULT over this, I'm done

stop sending hate, it's fucking stupid and it needs to stop 🖕🖕🖕🖕

[quantumelepant]

The best part of writing fanfics is that I get to write them exactly how I want them to be, with all my favourite tropes and scenes and hcs.

The worst part of writing fanfics is that I get to write them.

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER NINETEEN (see full series list here)

1993

Every head in the Hall turns to Harry, whose shocked and confused expression is matching your own. Your jaw has dropped to the floor.

Nobody claps, nobody cheers like they did for the other champions. Everyone just stares at Harry, who sits frozen and unmoving.

Beside you, Minerva gets to her feet and sweeps forward to whisper urgently to Dumbledore, who bends his ear towards her, frowning slightly.

You watch as Dumbledore straightens up. "Harry Potter! Harry! Up here, if you please."

Harry gets to his feet unsteadily, treading on the hem of his robes and stumbling. There's no sound but for the boy's nervous footsteps. His eyes are glued to the ground as he reaches Dumbledore.

"Well...through that door, Harry," says Dumbledore, gesturing with his hand to the door.

As if in a dream, Harry makes his way past your table. He looks at you when he passes and you do your best to give him the least pained smile you can muster. He enters the room and disappears from sight. At once, Ludo Bagman jumps to his feet, a joyous expression on his face, and hurries into the room after Harry. You glance around at the other teachers, exchanging a worried look with Minerva, before standing and walking into the room as well, with Dumbledore, Madame Maxime, Karkaroff, Minerva and Snape.

The room is lined with portraits of witches and wizards. A grand fire is roaring in the corner, the three first champions standing around it.

"Madame Maxime!" Fleur says at once, striding over to her headmistress. "They are saying that this little boy is to compete also!"

You don't miss the way Harry bristles slightly at that.

"What is the meaning of this, Dumbly-Dorr?" she says imperiously, the top of her head brushing the bottom of the chandelier.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," agrees Karkaroff, whose blue eyes are like shards of ice. "Two Hogwarts Champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions — or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He laughs nastily and you feel your gut twist.

"C'est impossible!" Madame Maxime exclaims, her left hand resting on Fleur's shoulder. "Hogwarts cannot have two champions. It is most unjust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants," Karkaroff snips, a steely smile on his face. Another smile that doesn't reach his eyes whatsoever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," Snape says softly, dark eyes filled with malice and distaste as he looks at Harry. You can feel your blood start to boil. That's your godson right there! "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break school rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here — "

"Thank you, Severus," says Dumbledore firmly, and Snape goes blissfully quiet, though he continues to give Harry dirty looks.

Dumbledore looks at Harry from behind his half-moon spectacles with an indiscernible expression on his face.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet of Fire, Harry?" he asks calmly.

"No." Harry's eyes flit around him nervously. Snape makes an impatient noise of disbelief.

"Did you ask an older student to put it into the Goblet of Fire for you?" says Dumbledore, ignoring Snape.

"No," Harry answers vehemently.

Behind Dumbledore's back, Snape's eyes move to you and he points a long finger at you accusingly. You shake your head viciously. He raises his eyebrows in disbelief. You roll your eyes and give him the middle finger.

"Ah, but of course he is lying!" cries Madame Maxime. Snape nods enthusiastically.

"He could not have crossed the Age Line," says Minerva sharply. "I am sure we can all agree on that — "

"Dumbly-dorr must have made a mistake with the line," says Madame Maxime simply, shrugging.

"Professor Dumbledore didn't make a mistake," you chime in snippily.

"It is possible, of course," Dumbledore says politely.

"Dumbledore, you know perfectly well you did not make a mistake!" says Minerva angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Harry could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everyone else!"

She shoots a very angry look at Snape.

"Mr Crouch...Mr Bagman," says Karkaroff, "you are our — er — objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wipes his round, boyish face with a handkerchief and looks at Crouch, who is standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half-hidden in shadow.

"We must follow the rules and the rules clearly state that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament."

"He can't compete," you say. "He's fourteen!"

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," Karkaroff says angrily, ignoring you, a very ugly look on his face. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It is only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," says Ludo Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out — it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament — "

"In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" barks Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growls a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now, he's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody's just entered the room, limping towards your group, clunking his way through. You stiffen slightly at the sight of him, feeling yourself involuntarily straightening your posture.

"Convenient?" Says Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

"Don't you?" Moody says quietly, glass eye swivelling in its socket. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone who wished to give Hogwarts two bites at the apple!" Madame Maxime exclaims.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," Karkaroff concurs. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards — "

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," Moody growls, fixing his gaze on Harry, "but...funny thing...I don't hear him saying a word..."

"Why should he complain?" Fleur Delacour bursts out. "He has the chance to compete, hasn't he? We have all been hoping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! The honour for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money — this is a chance many would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to die for it," Moody says gravelly.

An extremely tense silence follows his words and you just stare at him in disbelief.

"What are you talking about?" You say slowly.

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered six plots to murder him before lunchtime," Karkaroff says loudly, shrugging his shoulders. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore, but no doubt you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" Moody snarls. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is there of that?" Madame Maxime says incredulously.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" says Moody, tapping his staff on the stone flags. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament...I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category..."

"How this situation arose, we do not know," Dumbledore says finally. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"I'm sorry, but have you all gone mad?" You interrupt, feeling everyone's eyes turn to you. Maybe you shouldn't have come out that strong, but hey, too late to back out now! "Harry is fourteen. He's not of age yet, and he's certainly not old enough for this tournament. This, as we all know, extremely dangerous tournament! He doesn't know half the spells a seventh-year would know, it's madness to let him go ahead — "

"If you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it," Dumbledore says, politely adding your name at the end.

"Hm, well, how about we just...don't let him compete, maybe? Bit of a crazy idea to you lot, I'm sure — "

"Legally binding magical contract, professor!" Ludo Bagman cuts in, beaming excitedly at you, wagging his finger. "Give the lad a chance! Let's crack on now, I think we've had enough squawking for one night!"

He turns to the rest of the group, effectively cutting you off from them. They've got to be mad. Absolutely mad. He's far too young for this. It's against the rules! And who decided to make this magically binding in the first place? What kind of fool makes a tournament that involves teenage students magically binding? You ball your hands into fists. Would you lose your job if you punched Bagman in that snotty, overly-cheerful face of his?

Yeah, probably.

Well, okay. You definitely would lose your job. You've just lost a little bit of respect for Dumbledore. He's not even trying to give Harry an out! Not even trying to fix this situation.

Men.

You glance over at your godson. He hasn't stopped fiddling with the hem of his robes since his name was called out and you feel awful. You can tell just by looking at him that he's as surprised and confused as you are, that he had no idea his name was going to come out of that goblet. There has to be a way out of this. You won't have him put in danger like that.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," comes Crouch's low voice, pulling you from your thoughts, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. It will take place on November the twenty-fourth, in front of the other students and the panel of judges. The champions are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempt from end-of-year tests."

Out of the corner of your eye you see Cedric subtly pump his fist at his side in quiet celebration.

Crouch turns to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, right, Albus?"

"I think so," says Dumbledore. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay the night at Hogwarts, Barty?"

Oh please no.

"No, Dumbledore, I must get back to the Ministry," Crouch answers and you breath a very quiet sigh of relief. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment...I've left young Weatherby in charge...very enthusiastic...a little over-enthusiastic, truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?"

"Come on, Barty, I'm staying!" exclaims Bagman brightly, clapping Crouch on the shoulder — which causes Crouch to jump slightly and grimace. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," Crouch says, a touch of impatience in his voice.

You won't be missed!

"Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime — a nightcap?" Dumbledore asks, but Madame Maxime has already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and is leading her out of the room, the two of them conversing in very rapid French — you focus on trying to catch what they're saying, but you barely catch any of it, other than a very put-out mention of a petit garçon, meaning little boy. It's obvious they're not too happy about this arrangement at all.

Karkaroff beckons Viktor and they too exit the room, though in silence.

"Harry, Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," Dumbledore says kindly, smiling at the two boys. "I am sure Gryffindor and Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Harry and Cedric glance at each other, nodding, before leaving the room together. As he passes, you give Harry a small nod and walk forward towards Dumbledore.

"Headmaster, I'd like a quick word, if you please."

"Certainly," Dumbledore says, and you lead him just outside the room, closing the door behind you so you're out of earshot. Harry and Cedric are still walking down the Hall and they both glance back at the two of you. You give them both a little wave, which is returned.

"Sir," you start quietly, wondering how to go about this as calmly as possible, "you're hardly being serious about this, right? Harry can't compete in this, he's far too young."

"I am afraid there is nothing I can do about it," Dumbledore replies simply. "His name came out of the Goblet and as per the rules he must compete."

"But you can't let him compete!" you hiss. "I don't care about the rules — you have to fix this! You're Headmaster, you just can't let him go ahead with this — "

Dumbledore says your name strongly. "I know you're concerned for Harry, I understand that. But there really is nothing I can do. In hindsight, a magically binding contract was not the most clever decision..."

You sigh, biting your lip. "What if Professor Moody is right? And someone really did do that to put Harry in danger? I can't just stand by and let that happen."

"There is a possibility, of course," Dumbledore says slowly, "but we will always be there, at every task, and if such danger arises we will handle it. I promise you that."

"Okay..." you say semi-certainly, nodding your head. "Okay, okay. You're right. You're right."

"Would you like to join us for a nightcap, perhaps?" He asks you, brightening.

"No, no, I ought to get to bed..." you say dismissively, glancing down at your watch. The thought of spending more time in there with Moody's brooding presence and Ludo Bagman's suffocating energy is rather unpleasant to you now.

"Have a good night, professor."

You smile at him and he nods as you leave and he enters the room once again.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

Before you know it, October turns to November and the 3rd sneaks up on you, whacking you in the face with cruel realisation when you see its date circled several times in red ink on your calendar and dotted with little hearts.

Sirius' birthday.

It always feels weird. Like your wedding anniversary, like your own birthday. It's weird to not have him here with you to celebrate. It's hard to remember birthdays that you weren't together for.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

November, 1976

"Happy birthday!" You quickly reach up and wrap your arms around Sirius, giving him a short hug that part of you wishes was longer. It's hard to bite down the urge to just grab and kiss his beautiful lips without a care in the world.

"Thank you, dearest," Sirius says, bowing dramatically to you. James comes bounding down the dormitory stairs after him and forcefully stretches a party hat string over Sirius' head to match his own, muttering a complaint about his mop of dark hair getting in the way.

"I said it first!" James says to you competitively, wagging his finger. "As soon as he woke up, in fact! I was the first to wish him a happy sixteenth!"

Sirius raises his eyebrows. "As soon as you woke me up. Poor me, torn from my blissful sleep by an errant goblin!"

James gives Sirius a shove, who just laughs. He's got such a lovely laugh, you can't help but smile at him. He looks good this morning. He's pulled his long hair back into a half-up, half-down style, and two silver studs adorn his earlobes. You can see one of his tattoos peaking out from under the top of his unbuttoned shirt. You've never seen all of his tattoos, but from what you've been told there are many, and they're everywhere. You really want to see them all — and getting to see the rest of his body would just be an added bonus.

"Ugh, if you're really going to ogle him that much, just ask him out," comes Alice's hiss in your ear, as she and Lily come down the stairs.

You swat her hand away. "Gross."

She rolls her eyes, unimpressed, as she jabs her fingers into your sides and you jump, letting out an involuntary yelp.

"Alice, you bitch — "

"Lily!"

James has just caught sight of Lily and the pupils of his eyes dilate so much that you're expecting them to pop out of his head. Lily groans when she sees him, increasing her pace and grabbing Alice's arm, pulling her through the common room, saying something about getting breakfast. Alice shrugs her shoulders at you as she's tugged out of the portrait hole.

"Wait, Lily, wait!" James calls desperately, hurrying to catch up to his beloved Evans.

You exchange a glance with Sirius now that the two of you have been left alone, laughing at James' antics.

"Do you think she's even close to saying yes?"

"Not a chance," you respond simply, chuckling. "She hates him more than anything in the world, apparently."

"Fair. I do too," Sirius agrees and you giggle.

"Oh, I got you a present, by the way!" You remember, pulling the clasp off your bag and reaching inside to grab a hold of a small box wrapped neatly in red and gold paper.

Sirius' eyes widen. He hadn't expected you to get him a present. "You didn't have to get me anything — "

"Nonsense! We're friends, aren't we? And friends get each other presents on their birthdays," you say with a smile, handing him the box.

He raises his eyebrows, tapping the item with one of his long, dainty fingers, one adorned with two silver rings. "How do I know you're not only doing this so I have to get you a present on your next birthday?"

You grin mischievously, winking at him. "I never reveal my secrets. Now go on, open it!"

Sirius begins to tear away at the paper, revealing a brand-new red and gold scarf — Gryffindor colours. He pulls it out and holds it up, inspecting it.

"I noticed your current one has gotten a bit shoddy-looking, so..." you chuckle sheepishly.

Sirius smiles genuinely at you. "Thank you, really. I love it."

He throws it around his neck and pumps his chest out exaggeratedly, smirking expectantly at you. "Well? How do I look?"

"Fabulous, Sirius. Absolutely fabulous," you deadpan.

He grins. "I knew it. I'm gorgeous."

You roll your eyes, placing your hands on his shoulders and steering him through the common room. "So modest. Come on, I'm starved, let's get breakfast."

"Not without us, I hope," Remus says as he appears behind you, Peter in tow.

"Morning, you two," you greet with a smile.

"Mornin'," Peter replies, smiling at you before he returns to rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

You chuckle at Remus and Peter, both wearing party hats that match Sirius'. You point up at them. "Do I get one?"

"You can have mine," Remus says quickly, reaching up to pull his off. "Please."

You wave your hands. "Oh, no. You're rocking that hat, Moony. I can't take that away from you."

His shoulders slump in disappointment as you stop him from pulling the hat off, laughing.

He looks at Peter, who just shrugs defeatedly. "James will only force it back onto you if you take it off."

"He'd probably put a permanent sticking charm on it," Sirius says as your group clambers out of the portrait hole. "Then you'd never get it off."

The four of you make your way down the corridor, travelling down the spiral staircase you all know so well. You wave at a few portraits on the wall as you pass, receiving a few smiles and greetings in return.

"Oh, Peter, I finished that book you gave me," you tell him. "Saltwater Sentiments?"

"What did you think of it?"

"I loved it! Godric, I actually couldn't put it down," you say excitedly. "Like, I was brushing my teeth last night with my toothbrush in one hand and the book in the other."

"Me too! I read it in like a day," Peter responds, matching your enthusiasm.

"Oh, oh, and you know that part where Lyra has to kill Evascus? I sobbed," you say dramatically. "I was genuinely getting emotional over it and I remember audibly saying 'what the fuck' to that part."

"You're so right — "

"Oh, yeah, I read that too," Sirius chimes in suddenly, looking expectantly at the two of you.

Peter and you stop talking, turning to the birthday boy himself in slight confusion.

"Really?" you say, surprised. "You read it?"

"Yeah," he says simply. "Why do you find that so surprising?"

You shrug. "Just...doesn't really seem your type of book, if I'm honest. Didn't have you pegged as the emotional romance type."

"You never mentioned reading it before," Peter starts, confused. "I offered it to you ages ago but you said — "

"That I'd already read it!" Sirius cuts across quickly, smiling weirdly and chuckling. "You, my dear friend, have a terrible memory, haha!"

Peter just stares back at him, eyes squinted and mouth agape in confusion. Remus sighs, shaking his head as you enter the Great Hall.

You grab hold of Sirius' arm and reach up to whisper in his ear. "Nice try."

Sirius ignores the tingle that shoots down his spine at your soft voice in his ear.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he says, feigning oblivion and hurrying up to the table so he can sit himself down beside James, who is still trying to talk to Lily.

You slot yourself in beside Lily, starting to pile breakfast items onto your plate.

"Sorry that we left you back there," Lily says to you. "There was an irritating pest trying to cling to me. Seriously, we've moved places on this table about five times already and he follows us every single time."

You snort, giving Lily an unsurprised look. "Can't say I'm shocked."

"Ugh, I wish he'd just leave me alone already," she says quietly, giving him a distasteful look across the table.

"Hey, James," you say, taking a sip from your orange juice.

"Yeah?"

"Lily wants you to fuck off."

Alice chokes on her water, sending her into a violent coughing fit and Sirius puts an arm around James defensively.

"Don't say that!" he says in mock seriousness. "You know he's very sensitive."

"Hey!" James exclaims, giving Sirius a highly affronted look.

"Being sensitive isn't a bad thing, James," Alice says. "Lots of girls like guys who are sensitive."

"Any girl that'd like him would have to be mad," Lily mutters disdainfully.

James sighs, nodding his head at Lily, smiling confidently at her. "You'll fall in love with me yet, Lilyflower. Just you wait."

You gag in true disgust. "Please don't ever say that again. I think I'll actually be sick."

"Same," Lily groans. James opens his mouth to say more, but doesn't get the chance to when two pretty Hufflepuff girls approach your table.

"Happy birthday, Sirius," one of them purrs, batting her eyelashes flirtatiously at him. Something twists your gut and you watch the scene before you unfold, biting your tongue to stop yourself from saying something nasty. The same girl pulls a piece of parchment out of her pocket, and bends over to slip it into his hand, her hand lingering on his for far longer than you'd like. She very clearly has her shirt unbuttoned more than usual, giving everyone at the table a clear view of her cleavage, especially Sirius. "A little present for you, yeah?"

You look at Alice, raising your eyebrows. The girl straightens back up, smiling suggestively at Sirius, before turning with her friend and giggling their way back to the Hufflepuff table.

Sirius unfolds the parchment and you watch as his eyes skim the paper, grimacing at one point.

"What's it say?" James asks curiously, craning his neck to try and read it.

Sirius pushes him away, eyes still fixed on the note. He glances up at you at one point, expression unreadable.

"Meet me in the sixth floor corridor tonight at 7 if you want a real present," he reads aloud and you fail to hide your wince. "I can show you some of my special magic."

Your group takes in a collective, entirely grossed-out gasp.

You push your breakfast plate away from you. "Well, that just made me lose my appetite."

"I regret asking," James says, a disgusted look on his face. "I don't know what I was expecting, but a sex-capade invitation was not it."

"James!" you and Remus groan in unison.

"Who the fuck says sex-capade? Just disgusting, James. Get a grip."

"What? That's what it is!" James replies defensively. "Or are you gonna pretend that she just wants to show Sirius a bit of wingardium leviosa?"

You snort, bursting into laughter and banging your hand on the table.

"Well, I guess we all know now not to bother looking for Sirius this evening," Remus remarks, sipping from his goblet and raising his eyebrows at Sirius over the rim.

"Ha-ha. You're all very funny," Sirius says blankly, folding his arms at the lot of you. "But I won't be going."

Your eyes widen, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Oh, really? Sirius Black is passing up on the opportunity to spend the evening with a pretty girl? Who are you?"

"I'm already spending this evening with a pretty girl," he replies immediately. "One far prettier than her, I'll have you know."

Sirius Black, of course. Every time you expect him to have matured a little, to realise that perhaps running around after every girl in the school will get him nowhere and will only get him in about half the school's bad books, he goes right back to his player ways.

You like to think you take offense to his behaviour because of your strong moral code, because you can't stand for the way he jumps from person to person, forgetting that each of them have feelings and emotions he ought to care about. But, to say a truth you pretend isn't true and you don't like to admit, you just wish he'd take more interest in you instead.

"Ah, good for you," you say, a tinge of agitated displeasure sneaking into your voice. "And who might that be?"

"Well, you are going to spend time with me on my birthday, right?"

Your mouth drops open stupidly and you try to find words somewhere in your blanking brain, the opportune time for a quick rebuttal swiftly passing you by.

Alice 'oohs' loudly, giggling, and you sit straighter, attempting to appear confident and unfazed by his flirts. "Yeah, well, I'm afraid it'll take far more than saying I'm pretty to get me in your corner, Black. You've got to try a bit harder than that."

You're lying through your teeth, of course. You've been in his corner for so long now, you're not even sure it's a corner anymore. You're in his circle, his triangle, his fucking graduated cylinder for all you care. He has you hooked around his little finger and you don't think he even realises it.

From across the table, Sirius just winks at you. A silent confirmation that he's up for that challenge.

♡*⁠。♡*⁠。

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