#yes and regulus could have the white/blonde pieces in his hair like narcissa

[starryyvenus]

Restarting gossip girl (because I don’t know what season and episode I left off of) and I just can’t stop thinking about a marauders gossip girl au like I don’t know I see regulus and Sirius as either Serena and Blair the ships could be anything really

[fleetingpieces]

Everything we were CH 4

I was kinda waiting to post the chapters I already have for this fic, but work is keeping me hostage and I couldn’t finish MOIAM and I miss writing, so here ya go

Enjoy some marauders❤️

Special thanks to @knittingdreams for being such an amazing friend and beta❤️

Please check the tags for CW!

Masterlist ¦ Ao3

Chapter 4

“GRYFFINDOR!”

When the Hat announced that to the whole school, Sirius felt the blood leave his face. His thoughts were all jumbled. He had always felt a bit different than the rest of his family, and in the last few years he’d started drifting further and further away from them. But the Blacks had always been in Slytherin. Yes, he had thought about the possibility of this happening, and some part of him actually felt relieved, but it was still a shock to hear. His first reaction was to look up to the Slytherin table, smiling slightly at his cousin. When he saw Narcissa’s fuming glare however, his smile fell and he looked down. It had only been a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity before the gryffindors erupted in a wild applause and cheer.

He quickly took the Hat off and walked to the table, feeling dumbstruck, until his eyes found James’ and the boy gave him a thumbs up with a happy grin. Sirius relaxed a fair amount after that, kind of enjoying the bemused faces smiling up at him as he took a place on the bench.

The red haired girl from the train, Evans, was the second student to be placed in Gryffindor. Sirius tried to make some space for her, given that they were now housemates, but as soon as the girl recognized him, she threw a pointed look his way and promptly ignored him. Sirius rolled his eyes. What a stuck up.

Then a boy named Remus Lupin got called to the front and sat down with the Hat, shifting nervously. After only one second, Sirius saw the boy’s body go completely still, his face turning awfully pale. He wondered what the Hat could be telling him. But then the boy got sorted into Gryffindor as well; he came to sit down next to Sirius in a dazed state similar to the one he himself had been in.

Two more girls were consecutively placed in their house. The gryffindors were almost howling at this point, but Lupin was looking down, not noticing anything around them, stuck in his own thoughts. So Sirius decided to take the initiative. They were going to spend basically 7 years together after all.

“Hello.”

He was faced with bright amber eyes, and it was only then that Sirius realized it was the lad from the station. The boy gave him an apprehensive once over, before his eyes stopped at the sleeves of his robes and stayed there. Sirius tilted his head as the silence dragged by. Then Lupin’s head snapped up and he replied shyly.

“Um, hi.”

Sirius smiled, somehow reminded of Regulus. He thought about something to say, but before he could come up with anything interesting, the students around him started cheering again, and a pudgy blond boy sat in front of them. Sirius suddenly thought of James and tried to locate him between the remaining students, finding him just as he was called over by Professor McGonagall.

When James put the Hat on his head, a sudden fear took hold of Sirius. What if James was sorted into another house? They had bonded so quickly the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time together if they were in different houses, and what if Sirius couldn’t make other friends?

His thoughts were put at ease fairly quickly though, as James was sorted into Gryffindor as soon as his bum had touched the stool.

The rest of the evening was a breeze of happiness for Sirius, with just a little prick of doubt. He knew his family was a bit obsessed with the snake house and purebloods, but surely they wouldn’t hate him for this. He could still achieve great results at school even if he was a Gryffindor, and he’d never really liked Narcissa anyway, so she could just bugger off. His parents wouldn’t care, right? 

However, he forgot all about that uneasiness when they were guided through the castle to the common room, and he and James struck an animated conversation with Nearly Headless Nick. All in all, it was a great start of his school life.

 ***

 There was a draft coming from one of the windows of the big Charms classroom, making Remus shiver. He pulled at the sleeves of his jumper to cover his hands completely, the movement reminding him how uncomfortable he felt in his new uniform. He wasn’t used to clothes like this, most of his wardrobe at home was muggle. Jeans and sweatshirts were so much better than shirts, trousers and Merlin, that damned tie. How the hell was anyone able to make that thing look good and not a rumpled knot was beyond him. The only redeeming fact about the piece of clothing was whatever charm came with it. Remus had been surprised that morning before breakfast, when he’d gone through his trunk and found that his tie and the lines at the cuffs and neck of his jumper had changed from black to bright red and gold. He was faintly aware that he shouldn’t have been so surprised by it, but he just couldn’t help but try to figure out which spell was used on the school uniforms.

A loud thump beside him made him look up.

“Man, how did you find the classroom so fast? I’ve been wandering around for ages with those bloody staircases and whatnot. Had to ask a prefect to help me!” Pettigrew ranted, noticing with a weary glance that he was the last one in, but he seemed relieved that the class hadn’t started yet.

Remus gave him a noncommittal hum. He had been avoiding the other boys as much as he could since the feast last night, which wasn’t easy given that apparently all four of them would be sharing a dorm together. It made things so much more complicated. Remus had to take special care to get changed in their private bathroom, he didn’t want any of them seeing his body.

Pettigrew opened his mouth to say something more, but then Professor Flitwick appeared behind the desk, standing on top of a pile of books that didn’t look too steady, if you asked Remus.

“Alright students, please take out your wands,” he said with a squeaky voice. “Today we are going to learn about the Levitation Charm. This charm is an excellent test of your magical skills, wand control, and above all, patience!”

Remus felt the excitement filling him up. Finally, he would be able to try his new wand! He hadn’t dared use it at his house, to risk giving the Ministry an excuse to visit them and find out about him. No, Remus had been very careful and had pushed down on his anxiety.

But now he could finally try his hand at some spells!

Looking up at the Professor with bright eyes, he listened carefully to the explanation, taking in every detail of the demonstration. He actually knew most of the theory already, as he had read about it while at home.

“Now, try it yourselves. Don’t forget to do the right wand movement!”

Remus looked at the big white feather in front of him. To keep the nervousness from showing, he gripped his wand tightly, feeling a warm sensation spreading to his fingers. The students around him were chanting the spell out loud, the swish of wands drifting through the air, whoops of joy when someone got it right.

It’s ok, calm down already, Remus thought to himself.

He squared his shoulders, flicked his wand once…and nothing happened. His eyebrows drew together as he tried again. Nothing. He could clearly hear other students had succeeded already, but his feather was as unmoving as it had been when he’d set it on top of the desk. Maybe he was doing something wrong? After a few more tries with the same result, Remus started panicking. Was he not good enough? Did he have zero magical skill?  Would the Headmaster realize he’d made a mistake and send him back home?

Then a darker, scarier thought crossed Remus’ mind. What if it had to do with him being a creature? Was he too much of a monster already that he couldn’t use magic anymore? His condition had taken so much from him already, that he wouldn’t be surprised if that were the case. He wanted to laugh and cry at the same time.

Remus was scared to look up, but if his lack of magic was a characteristic of his kind, he had to make sure that no other student had noticed. No one could know. Glancing around, he saw Pettigrew waving his wand frantically, sweat forming on his forehead, the white plume in front of him lying lazily on the table. With a tiny bit of hope, he noticed that quite a few students were still having problems, even if most of them seemed to have gotten at least some reaction from their feathers. Except from him and Pettigrew, that is. Apparently, they were the only ones not accomplishing anything.

Remus exhaled a relieved breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He wasn’t a complete monster yet.

The teacher had said they would need patience, so he kept trying and trying, purposefully avoiding to look at Potter and Black, who were making their own quills clash around in the air while laughing. The theory was all in his head, the words and wand movement fresh in his memory, but he just couldn’t wrap his head around the way magic was supposed to work. The practical part of it was completely new, he had no reference as to what it should be like, as he hadn’t had any way to practice this at home.

Just as the bell rang, Remus felt something clicking in his head. The feather made a turn in the air, making his heart skip a beat, and he smiled happily as it hovered shakily in front of his eyes.

“Merlin, at least you were able to do it in the end,” said Pettigrew with a bitter scowl.

The pudgy boy had only managed to make his quill toss and turn on the table top. Remus gave him a sympathetic smile.

“I think yours was taking off that last time.”

Pettigrew's face lit up a bit, and Remus wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. Was that comment too friendly?

“Good on you, Lupin!” said a voice from behind them. Remus turned around to face Potter, who had Black sitting right next to him. “A lot of people don’t get it on the first lesson. At least that’s what my Dad said.”

Remus didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t tell if they were making fun of him or not. All the other students were leaving already, the sound of shuffling feet on the hallways filling the air. So he gave Potter a small nod and hurried out as well, leaving the boys slightly stunned. He knew he was being rude, but he didn’t know how else to interact with them. It would be better if he didn’t have to do that at all.

The first year gryffindors had some free time before lunch and, thinking about ways to keep himself busy, Remus decided to explore the castle a bit. It really was a pain to get around without getting lost, Remus had only found the classroom by following other students discreetly. He wanted to get acquainted with every hall and passage, and he really wanted to figure out the pattern of those bloody moving staircases. He’d nearly fallen five floors that morning when one of them started moving just as he was getting on.

Remus reached the hallway on the third floor, thinking about how nobody seemed to mention anything about the multiple dangerous things the school housed. Maybe that was why he’d been allowed to attend.

He was so distracted that he didn’t notice there was something in his way until he bumped face first into it. Rubbing his nose and cursing under his breath, he looked up to find Avery, the bulky first year from Slytherin, looking down his nose at him.

“Watch where you’re going, you dirty scum.”

The boy was barely a few inches taller than him, but he was wide; his arms were probably three times the size of Remus’. His short dark hair was cut in a way that made his jaw look sharper and his brown eyes harder. Avery had his arms crossed over his chest, studying Remus like he was a piece of meat. Remus raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him. 

The situation reminded him an awful lot of some experiences he’d had with some neighbourhood kids when he and his family had lived in East Sussex. Avery seemed like the kind of mindless bully that would love to pick on Remus just because of his small and scrawny complexion. Those other kids had certainly enjoyed making him their preferred target. But it was precisely because of that, that Remus knew to keep an eye on his surroundings and scurry when necessary. So he went around Avery, muttering a half-hearted apology and trying to move along, but was soon stopped by another figure that came from behind the slytherin.

“What’s the problem here?” a tall boy with platinum hair drawled. Remus contained a whine and looked up, he’d almost gotten away. There was contempt in the bloke’s voice as he looked at Remus. “Who are you?”

Remus silently studied the blonde for a second. The way he held himself, like he was royalty, was similar to Black’s, but different at the same time. His robes were equally expensive, he had a green and silver tie, and a badge pinned to his chest. Of course he was a prefect. Remus had that kind of luck. There was something in the older boy’s pale blue eyes that was making Remus’ hairs stand on end; he looked like he could be trouble, the kind Remus was aiming to avoid as much as possible.

“I’m Remus Lupin.”

“Lupin?” the prefect sneered. “I’ve heard about your father’s preferences. You are a half-blood.”

It wasn’t a question, so Remus didn’t deign to give him a reply. The way he’d said the last word though, as if it was rotten garbage in his mouth, had Remus frowning. What did that even mean? The bloke was making him nervous, and Remus tried not to shift in place. He didn’t want anyone looking at him that closely, let alone a prefect. No one could know.

“Um, who are you?” his voice sounded smaller than he would have liked, and Avery smirked as the prefect narrowed his eyes at Remus.

“Watch your mouth, boy. It’s Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy. You’d do well to remember my name.”

As Malfoy took a step forward, a large group of students appeared around the corner, almost bumping into them when they filled the whole corridor. Remus decided to use that chance to get away before things could get worse, and as the students walked past he blended in with them and disappeared into another hallway. He’d learn to recognize when someone was best to avoid, and Malfoy was definitely someone he didn’t want to cross paths with more than necessary.

Remus walked fast, trying to put as much distance between them as possible, and went in the first room he could find. Closing the door behind him, he leaned into it and closed his eyes. It was his first day of school, and he’d already had to escape from some possible bullies. He wasn’t kidding himself, the kids from his old neighbourhood had no idea why Remus was so weird, but he knew the students at Hogwarts would be able to tell if he showed enough signs, if they saw his scars. He hoped running away hadn’t made things worse.

Sighing, Remus opened his eyes again and was stunned to see where he’d ended up in his haste.

Books.

Thousands of books, right in front of him, neatly organized on shelves. He glanced around with his mouth slightly open. Rows and rows of bookcases, going from one wall to the other, filled the room. There were only a handful of windows that filtered the morning light, giving the space a calm atmosphere. A few students were sitting on the tables scattered all over the big room, but everything was so very quiet; the only sounds were those of quills going over parchment and pages turning.

Remus walked ahead, his eyes glued to all those old volumes, until he reached the front desk and a woman with a deep scowl appeared in his line of sight.

“Are you lost?” she barked.

She was looking at him as if he didn’t belong there. Remus felt himself shrink under that look, but the temptation was too much to just let it slide.

“No, um…are we allowed to borrow any of these books?” He knew that his eyes were wide, probably making him look a bit insane, but he couldn’t erase the expression from his face. To his surprise, the woman’s glare dimmed a little bit. Not enough to make her look less scary though.

“You can borrow any book, except for those on the Restricted Section.” She pointed to the back of the library, where a rope separated some books from the rest. “You’ll need a signed note from a teacher to have one of those checked out. The other books you can read here or take out of the library, if you get my permission first. But I warn you, if you tear, fold, smear or damage these books in any way, the consequences will be quite severe.”

She fixed him with a stern look, and Remus smiled shyly.

“I will be very careful, I promise.”

The librarian looked mildly surprised, but Remus wasn’t paying attention to her anymore. He was staring in awe at all the knowledge sitting in the room, waiting for him to dig into it. The charm they’d learned that morning had been harder than he’d expected, but he was pretty sure he had figured it out now. Maybe he could find a corner of the library to tuck himself away and practice some more. He could even find out which spells they would be learning, and try to learn them ahead of time to avoid himself more embarrassment. Remus hoped that if he practiced enough, he would be able to understand magic better and struggle less. Smiling to himself, he set off to explore the tall shelves.

[writingformymentalhealth]

Chapter 2

Josephine Fawley or as her brother liked to call her the tomboy Princess had a striking romance with Hogwarts very own Pureblood rebel Sirius Black.

Sadly her parents deemed his Brother the so called Slytherin Prince as a better fit and arranged a marriage with the younger Black.

Possible Tw: Arranged marriage, possible smut, swear words, lots of fluff, angst,

Part 1

Part 3

Wattpad book link

Masterlist

The Fawley twins stood on Platform 9 3/4, already having left their parents behind at the station as Isabella Brown came in their direction.

Quentin always described Isabella Brown as the perfect sidekick, and Rory always found that unfair. Quentin’s reasoning was that Isa was pretty average, her dirty blonde hair and dull eyes not making her ugly but certainly not pretty either. Her grades were tolerable and her intelligence questionable.

But despite her brother’s hatred towards the girl, Rory liked to think of her as her best friend. After all, they have been sharing a dorm since the age of eleven...

“Isa!”

“Josie.”

The girls hugged, completely ignoring Quentin, whose eyes were transfixed on a certain blonde arguing with Lucius.

“I’ll leave you two to it.” He mumbled, making his way to the couple, but the girls didn’t hear him already gushing to each other about their Christmas Holidays.

At the time Quentin reached Narcissa Lucius was long gone and silent tears were falling down her porcelain skin.

“C’mere,” Quentin mumbled pulling the girl into a hug.

“You shouldn’t be here he doesn’t like me hanging with you.”

“You aren’t his property, Cissy.”

“I don’t want him to hurt you.” Narcissa’s deep blue eyes met his for the first time today.

“I’m not scared of Lucius.” Quentin said his eyes subconsciously drifting to her lips, the lips he used to kiss so often...

He shook himself out of the trance taking Narcissa’s trunk leading her into the train to find an empty compartment.

Silence engulfed the Teens while Quentin secured both their trunks and Narcissa fidled with her fingers nervously.

“You shouldn’t let him treat you like that.” Quentin said seating himself next to the beautiful girl.

“I will marry him.”

“Cissy-“

“I will do what is right for my family Quentin.”

“But what about what is right for you?”

“What are you saying I should do?” Narcissa asked something desperate in her voice as if she hoped he could show her a way out.

Quentin wanted to say a lot of things, run away with me, he wanted to say, I’ll protect you, but he didn’t have the chance to open his mouth as Lucius entered the compartment a cruel glint present in his eyes. “Fawley, thanks for taking care of my fiancée for me.”

“Pleasure.” the Ravenclaw answered dryly forcing himself to look into Lucius eyes who looked taken aback at the bold response.

“Cissy, Babe, why don’t you tell your dear ex boyfriend what you told me?” Lucius asked a sardonic smile playing on his lips.

Narcissa’s eyes widened in disbelief as she looked at him but her boyfriend just quirked his brows, his stare cold and dominant giving her no other choice than to oblique.

Quentin’s eyes darted back and forth between the couple trying to find out what was going on. Narcissa wasn’t able to meet his eyes as she swallowed visibly a few times.

“I don’t want my clingy ex boyfriend hanging around me all the time.” she said looking at her hands her voice barely above a whisper.

Quentin froze, his jaw clenched and he felt like he was about to cry but the devilish look in Lucius’ eyes stopped him.

“Well,” he stood up, clearing his throat “I should get going then.”

“Oh no,” Lucius faked kindness, “You don’t have to leave.”

Quentin pressed his lips together trying hard to swallow the lump in his throat, “no worries.”

“No really,” Lucius said the sardonic smile reappearing, “everybody knows you don’t have friends because nobody likes you, so we understand that you are so clingy.”

That hit home.

Narcissa seemed to try to disappear in her seat not daring to look up from her hands.

“I’ll go find my sister.”

“Oh yes family, they have to at least try to like you don’t they?” Lucius taunted but Quentin was already out the door.

On the other end of the train to Hogwarts, Isabella filled Joey in on the latest gossip.

“Regulus hexed a student - a muggle born he probably won’t come back to school,” she just said dramatically, wringing her hands.

“I guess they call him the Slytherin Prince for a reason.” Rory answered dryly, not sure what to think about all these rumors about a boy who used to hide behind his older Brother at any given moment.

“He is pure evil! Have you seen his cold stares? As if he is about to kill someone.”

Joey thought about the girls’ argument for a moment, Isa was right, Regulus always had a cold, unreadable demeanor which intimidated even the older years greatly.

“Maybe.”

Isabella just scoffed. She hated it when her friend didn’t take part in her gossiping.

Thankfully, Quentin entered the compartment in this moment, his lips pressed together in a thin white line.

“What’s wrong Quen? I thought you were sitting with Narcissa.”

“Narcissa and Lucius made up.” He said snappily, getting his sketchbook out of his pocket and started drawing, clenching the charcoal so hard his knuckles turned white.

“Quen-“

“Don’t” Quentin interrupted his sister.

“You could help your sister and sleep with Nicolette.” Isabella said, brushing her fingers through her dirty blonde hair, seemingly unaware of the silent conversation the twins held with their eyes.

“Why would that help me?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard? Nicolette wants to steal your boyfriend. Which isn’t an immense surprise after she slept with half the school, and don’t you remember the incident with Carter?”

Of course Joey knew the story about how Carter cheated on his long-time girlfriend Dorcas with the seductive blonde, everybody did - Dorcas made sure of it. Some rumors about Nicolette giving Carter a love potion went around, but Joey didn’t know what exactly went down. She only knew that every girl avoided Nicolette like the plaque and she herself surely didn’t want that girl near her boyfriend.

“Where do you get all your information from?” Quentin asked, still sketching furiously.

“Well, Fawley, A is for information and-“

“According to what alphabet?” Her brother scoffed, making Isa pout and look out of the window. But Joey couldn’t bring up the energy to comfort the girl, her thoughts being occupied by Nicolette, and the possibility of her stealing her boyfriend.

-

“You did what?”

“We made Slughorn’s toilet explode.” Sirius explained, a goofy grin plastered on his face.

“And how the hell did you make his toilet explode?” His girlfriend asked, trying to sound stern, but the smirk on her face gave her away.

“I can’t reveal all my tricks, love.”

“Aren’t you scared of getting detention?”

“What’s life without a little risk?” Sirius asked, throwing an arm around the petite girl.

Joey always thought of Sirius as a true Gryffindor, he was chivalrous, bold and daring, while she wasn’t a true - anything, known as the longest hat stall in the history of Hogwarts the hat jumping back and forth between all four houses for an hour before reluctantly placing her in Gryffindor. She never felt like she truly belonged there, but Sirius always knew how to make her feel like a true lion, involving her in pranks and bringing out the rebel in her and Joey didn’t want to think about next year when he would be in the Uni sector of Hogwarts - so close yet so far, in a completely different world of alcohol and parties - even more than they already had.

“What’s going on in your pretty little mind?”

“The Future.”

“You don’t look too happy about the future then.” He said, gently pulling her into his lab.

“I don’t want you to go to Uni.” She blurted, and he frowned.

“I’ll still be in the same building, Love.”

“We all know that the Uni students and the school students are strictly separated.”

He laughed his barking laugh, and Joey knew she would listen to his laugh for hours if she could.

“They are separated so some innocent first years won’t see some drunk teens shagging in the hallways, but it’s not forbidden to visit the other side of the castle.”

Joey had to suppress a smile at his crude wording.

“Still, you will live a completely different life with parties and alcohol and-” she paused, hiding her reddened cheeks in the crook of his neck, “girls.”

Sirius had the biggest, cockiest smirk plastered on his face as he turned towards Joey. “You jealous love?”

She tried to hide her face with her hands, but he easily pulled them away from her, exposing her flushed face.

“It’s just with alcohol and pretty Uni girls, I just don’t want you to fall out of love with me.” She mumbled, and Sirius’ amused expression suddenly disappeared, changing into a serious one.

“Josephine Fawley, I’m always going to love you. I’m going to love you in your weakest moments to your strongest ones. Don’t you understand? I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” His grey eyes stared straight into her green ones. “I want you, and only you, every piece of you. And I’m always going to want you, I’m always going to be here loving you with everything.” He said, and a smile tugged at Joey’s lips.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m always Sirius” he smirked making her roll her eyes at the overused pun, “but yes I am completely serious.”

“I Love you Siri.”

“I love you more Josie.”

“That isn’t possible.”

“Yes, it is”

“No, it isn’t”

“Yes, it is”

“No, it isn’t”

“Yes, it-” his sentence cut short by Joey pressing her lips onto his passionately while positioning herself so that she was straddling him, peppering soft kisses along his jawline.

-

The quidditch game Gryffindor against Slytherin was coming up and you could practically feel the excitement buzzing in the great hall.

“I don’t get all this excitement over a stupid game.” Isabella complained playing with the food on her plate.

“We don’t have to go,” Joey said with her mouth full of cornflakes, “Sirius doesn’t play this year.

“Why? Did he want to have more time for other types of exercises?” Isa asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Actually, I wanted to have more time for my beautiful girlfriend,” Sirius said from behind, seating himself next to Joey.

“Hey Siri.” Isabella said, ignoring Sirius’ scrunched-up face as a person other than his girlfriend used this nickname.

“Hey Isa. Are you guys coming to the match today?”

“No, Isa just-“

“Of course we are coming.” Isabella interrupted, earning a weird look from Joey.

“I thought you weren’t playing this year?”

“I am not playing but McGonagall asked me to be the commentator.” He smirked devilishly.

“She’s going to regret this.” Joey mumbled while Isabella congratulated the boy.

The stands at the Quidditch game were annoyingly full and Isa and Joey stood together tightly, watching the Teams warm up.

“On the one side we have the captain of the Slytherin Team, the always unhappy looking Lucius Malfoy while on the other side we have the much more attractive James Potter as the team captain of the Gryffindors.” Sirius’s voice echoed through the pitch making the Gryffindors burst out in laughter.

The game went on James being the first one to possess the quaffle, “James being slightly distracted by a certain redhead still doesn’t stop him from being a better chaser than Lucius.”

“Mr Black.” McGonagall shouted, and Joey could swear that she could see Sirius smirk right in front of her.

“Mathew McKinnon blocking a bludger while maintaining his ever perfect hair, and I know we all ask ourselves how does he do this? Well, I happen to know tha-...yes Professor I do think this is important informa-...look the people deserve to know...no it’s not irrelevant to the game...see now you made me miss a goal.”

Joey saw a defeated-looking Professor McGonagall walk away from the commentator stand making a dismissive hand gesture.

“James stop laughing. I know I am hilarious but you have a game to win.” Sirius announced and Joey looked up, seeing an almost falling of the broom James potter crying tears of laughter.

“Mulciber here seems to be slightly distracted by the fact his girlfriend cheated on him with Lucius” Joey saw out of the corner of her eye that Narcissa left the stands Quentin following her immediately.

Joey sighed standing up from the stands making her way through the crowds to her boyfriend, as she knew his comments would only get more heated from now on. His body rushing with adrenaline from all the cheers and laughter filling the pitch. That was the thing between the two of them. They balanced each other out; he was fire, and she was water; she cooled him down when his fire burned the people around him and he melted her when her water turned to ice, too stubborn and scared to move in any direction.

Just as she wanted to climb up the commentator stand she saw the Slytherin team erupt into cheers as Regulus Black had catched the snitch.

Sirius hopped down the commentator stand, seeming absolutely content with himself.

“Enjoyed the show, Love?” He asked, grinning proudly.

“You never know when to stop do you?”

“It’s one of my charms.”

“It’s most definitely not. You made Narcissa cry.”

“Everything I said was the truth.” He said furrowing his brows.

“You still embarrassed her in front of the whole school.”

She could see something stir in his stormy eyes but just as he opened his mouth a figure in a short skirt and unmistakably red lipstick approached.

“Nice Job, Black.” Nicolette said smiling coquettish and Joey wanted nothing more than to rip out her just-the-right-kind-of-messy-but-not-too-messy hair.

“Thank you, Nici.” He smiled looking at Joey triumphantly.

Nici.

Why did he call her by a nickname?

“I wondered if you could help me in Transfiguration this weekend? McGonagall says you’re one of the best.” The girl asked, smiling brightly showing off her pearly white teeth.

“We already have plans this weekend.” Joey said through gritted teeth and although Sirius quirked an eyebrow at her he didn’t say anything.

“Oh, Okay Sorry.” Nicolette said clearly, forcing a smile as she turned around, walking away without another word.

“Having a jealous streak are we?” Sirius asked, his grin only widening as he saw his usual calm girlfriend all worked up.

“Shut up.”

Part 3

[ashes-and-ashes]

81. "You don't have to do this."

Harry shivers underneath the invisibility cloak. It was all very well that the cloak turns you invisible, he thinks, but it’s rather bloody useless at actually keeping you warm.

He shivers again, wrapping the cloak tighter around himself, making sure that no part of him was showing through thin fabric. He was pressed up in a corner, squished between a horrid stone gargoyle and the balcony railing, curled up so tight that he could barely breathe. There are people all around him - Death Eaters, hundreds of them, with silver masks and dark hoods, the flickering candlelight making the metal come alive.

He tears his gaze away, focusing instead on the lobby hundreds of meters below him. He’s still shaking, muffling his harsh breaths with his hand, his heart pounding underneath his chest as he searches that dark crowd for a flash of white-blond hair. Draco wasn’t down there though, not yet anyway, and Harry loses a careful breath of relief.

His arm still burns, from where Draco had gripped it earlier, so tight he knew it would bruise. They had been quick, rushed kisses against the wall outside of the Manor, fingers tangling in each other’s hair. Draco was pale, all moonlight and starlight, those grey eyes so, so defiant as Harry ran his lips up his unmarked forearm for the last time.

“You need to leave,” Draco had breathed, head tilted back against the wall, fingers cold against Harry’s skin. “I don’t - I don’t want you to see me...see me like...”

Harry had only kissed him harder, his eyes fluttering shut against the pain. “You know I can’t.”

Relief shone in Draco’s eyes. “Thank you.”

The words had fallen out in a rush, pressed together so tightly that Harry thought they could never be pried apart. “Don’t. You don’t have to do this.”

Draco pulled away. There were spots of colour in his cheeks now, red flames. His lips were wet, pink and swollen from their kisses, his eyes simultaneously haunted and clear. He gave Harry a small, sad smile, one that shattered his heart into a million pieces. “Of course I do. The Order needs a Spy.”

“They can find another,” Harry gasped, desperate, so desperate to save Draco, to save the Mark from being seared into that pale skin, a brand amongst all the other delicate scars. “We’ll find someone else, Draco.”

“There’s not enough time.” Draco had kissed him again, so hard that Harry’s head hit the wall then pulled away. “I’ll see you when this is over,” he said, then turned and walked off.

Harry swears, wrenched back into the present by the sound of voices. He turns, slightly, spots a thin, bony Death Eater conversing with another.

“Yes, well the boy is awfully young? Still, I suppose it’s alright. The Dark Lord needs all that he can get.”

“A Malfoy,” the other mused. “Lucius and Narcissa must be getting desperate. The boy must want to restore honor to his tarnished name.”

Harry grit his teeth, trying so hard not to jump out from under his cloak, burn the entire fucking manor down. There’s a stab of pain in his hand; he realizes that he’s cut his palm open from gripping the rough edges of the stone gargoyle too hard. Harry swears, pressing his hand to the side of his robes.

There’s a slight commotion downstairs - Harry’s breath catches in his throat as he looks down. He’s too high up to see properly but he’d recognize Draco anywhere; the white-blond hair, the haughty set of his shoulders, the way he still managed to hold his head high. The perfect heir in everyone’s eyes, handsome and arrogant and utterly devoted to Voldemort.

But only Harry would spot his hands, the slim fingers of his left hand wrapped around the wrist of his right, and he knows that when he checked there later there would be blood. An old habit, Draco once told him, left over from when his father used to break into his head, when he became so lost that only the clasp of his fingers, the bright stab of pain reminded him who he was.

Harry presses his face closer to the railing, his breath stuttering in his throat. Draco looks perfectly composed, his face emotionless, so different from the boy he had fallen in love with. The quicksilver grins, the cutting remarks, the tears on his face as he had sobbed into Harry’s shoulder; all of it was erased in an instant.

For the first time, Harry realized how dangerous Draco Malfoy was, how devastating he would be as a spy.

Draco halts in the center of the room. Everyone falls silent; Harry finds himself holding his breath, praying that he wouldn’t sense him, that he wouldn’t come -

It’s as if a cold wind fills the room. Everything seemed to dim; the candles, the lanterns, even the ancient chandelier hanging from the ceiling. And God, Harry could recognize that voice anywhere, that cold calculation, the voice that haunted his nightmares.

“Draco Malfoy,” Voldemort says. “What brings you to me?”

He doesn’t know how Draco does it, keeps his voice calm and level and utterly cool. “My lord,” he says, his voice ringing around the silent foyer. “I have come to take the Mark.”

A low chuckle. “By who’s request? Your father’s?”

Draco smiles, a cold, cutting smile, the smile that Harry had first seen when the two of them had met, still enemies. “My own.”

Utter silence. Draco stands perfectly still in the middle of the room, his face calm, almost bored, and Harry wonders why nothing was happening -

Draco’s eyes flutter, just for a moment, and understanding hits Harry like a punch to the gut. “Shit,” he breathes. Voldemort was obviously prying into Draco’a mind, ripping it apart, trying to determine if Draco truly was loyal to him.

Draco had described it once, lying on their backs in the room of requirement. “Like a knife. Something sharp and cold ripping into your head, prying through every memory there is until you start to forget who you are and who you were.”

And he’s known Draco for long enough, loved him for long enough to know when Draco was hurting. Draco’s eyes flutter again, drifting shut for longer now; Harry can see his fingers tighten at his wrist.

Please, he prays, please let Draco be strong enough, don’t let Voldemort see about us, don’t let him see -

Draco’s eyes open. His face doesn’t change but Harry can see him deflate, his hands opening to fall at his side. The smallest smirk played on his lips - he had taken on Voldemort himself and won.

Someone comes forward, some hooded Death Eater whispering something too quiet to hear in Draco’s ear. Harry clenches his fists at his side, something knitted and painful in his chest as Draco holds out his arm, palm up to bare his wrist.

The Death Eater raises something into the air; it’s a metal spike, Harry realizes, the ends red-hit and glowing. Harry tightens his fists, pain working up and down his arms and it was nothing compared to what Draco was about to face.

He’s terrified - Harry can see it in the set of his jaw, the tension in his shoulders. He betrays none of it though as the Death Eater sets the rod onto Draco’s bars arm.

Harry’s heart stutters. Draco’s face is impassive, though Harry can see how much it hurts. He can smell burning flesh in the air, ashes and blood. Draco’s taken his lower lip into his mouth; Harry knows he’s biting it, hard, trying not to scream as fieryikes work over the pale skin of his arm.

And God, it keeps on going, outlining the Mark so damn slowly, the skin around it bubbling. Draco’s panting now, pain dulling his eyes; Harry’s heart breaks as Draco tips his head back, teeth clenched in a gruesome smile. He watches with horrid fascination as the lines spread, curving back down to join together with the other marks; it turns black, sinking into Draco’s flesh.

The Death Eater removes the rod from Draco’s wrist and Harry almost saga in relief. “You didn’t scream,” they say.

Draco straightens. He’s obviously in pain, his arm still held in front of him. His voice remains perfectly steady though as he tilts his head. “Who was the last?”

The Death Eater laughs. “The last to not scream? Or make a noise?”

“Bellatrix Lestrange laughed,” someone shouts out. “Laughed and laughed, so hard she almost fell over.”

The Death Eater tilts their head. “Regulus Black was the last silent one, I think.”

A cold smile curves over Draco’s lips. “Interesting.”

“Draco Malfoy. You have received the Mark.” The Death Eater steps back, melting into the crowd. “Join the ranks.”

Everyone surges forward; someone hands Draco a black cloak and a plain silver mask. He frowns at his as he turns it between his fingers. “It’s plain.”

“You make your own,” someone calls. Draco accepts the items with a tight nod. “Thank you,” he says, his voice clear and cold. “I will not fail you.”

Harry closes his eyes, feeling sick as Draco holds the black garment open, steps into it. He watches as Draco buttons the robe, smoothing his hair down, all the simple, mundane things that Draco always did, the careful precision that filled his every movement.

Draco holds out the mask, the edges catching the light and Harry’s heart clenches at the thought, of his boyfriend having to put that mask on, cold metal against his skin, erasing everything from view. He turns away, wraps the cloak tighter around himself, prepares to leave.

For a moment, he thinks Draco catches his eyes. For a moment he thinks the coldness softens, replaced with agony, with loathing, all those emotions that he could never show and now never would.

Harry just stands there, heart breaking as Draco lifts his hand slightly from his side, his lips curling into that beautiful, radiant smile.

Harry is still watching him as he slips the silver mask on, disappearing into the crowd.