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remywrites5 · 4 years

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Hello! Humble prompt suggestion.. I can't seem to stop imagining Harry and Draco out to dinner with a group of friends, not dating (but wanting to). Then accidentally acting all couply and getting each other to try each others dishes and being so wrapped up in each other♡

Harry was more than a little alarmed when Draco and Hermione of all people became friends. They worked together down in the Department of Mysteries as Unspeakables and apparently that kind of work fostered camaraderie. Since the war had ended and Voldemort had been destroyed, Harry didn’t exactly want to say things had gotten better. It just seemed that the pure blood wizards kept their bigoted nonsense to themselves because spouting it out in Wizard society made them look like part of the losing side.

Draco had mellowed out a bit since school, even Harry could admit that. The uptight pure blood sneering wannabe heir of Slytherin was not exactly gone but less obnoxious. Now that they weren’t at school and worked in completely different areas of the ministry, there really was no reason for them to continue their rivalry. There was nothing to compete over anymore and it made Draco slightly less nasty towards Harry.

Didn’t mean Draco wasn’t still a prick from time to time.

“Potter, what the fuck is this?”

Harry glanced up to see Draco poking at the coffee pot that Harry kept in his office. “It’s called a coffee pot, Malfoy. It makes a pot of coffee so I don’t have to go anywhere to get some, I can stay in the comfort of my own office.”

Draco wrinkled his nose at it. “I would have thought you’d enjoy venturing out to socialize considering everyone here basically worships the ground you walk on.”

Harry rolled his eyes and turned away from Draco. “Yeah well sometimes I just want to be left alone,” Harry said pointedly.

Draco didn’t seem to get the message and walked over to the desk, leaning against the edge of it and crossing his arms over his chest. “I don’t understand why you bother with all that Muggle stuff.”

“I grew up on Muggle stuff,” Harry responded, absentmindedly jotting down a few notes for the case he was working on. He risked a glance up at Draco, who was staring at him in a funny kind of way.

“I just can’t imagine not growing up with magic,” Draco said looking slightly aghast at the idea. ‘I got my first broomstick when I was six.”

“Well we couldn’t all live such charmed lives, Malfoy,” Harry said, ignoring the pit in his stomach as he thought about his childhood. In moments of weakness or self-pity, Harry would wonder how different his life might have been if his parents had lived and he’d known about magic all along. Still, it didn’t do to dwell on what ifs.

Draco snorted. “Ah yes, a charmed life has been mine,” he said snippily.

Harry sighed heavily. “Did you want something, Draco, or did you just come up here to annoy me?”

“I was curious to what the savior’s office looked like,” Draco confessed with a nonchalant shrug. “Somehow I thought it’d be nicer.”

“I’m not the savior anymore, I’m just Harry,” he responded, putting his quill down and leaning back in his chair.

“You’ll never be just anything, Harry,” Draco said, putting his hands on the armrests of Harry’s chair, effectively caging Harry into his seat. Harry was alarmed for a moment as Draco got uncomfortably close, his shoulders tensing. He thought for a moment Malfoy was going to attack him or hex him. Instead Draco’s grey eyes bore into Harry’s as they stared each other down.

The air was rife with tension for a moment until Harry broke it by clearing his throat. Draco quickly straightened up, releasing Harry from his hold. “Malfoy?” Harry said uncertainly.

“See you around, Potter,” Draco said, turning on his heel and heading for the door. He gave a dismissive wave with his back still turned.

Well that was odd, Harry thought as he stared at where Malfoy’s retreating form had been only moments ago.

***

There had been several more awkward run-ins with Draco. For whatever reason, the ex-death eater seemed to think he had an open invitation into Harry’s office. He would drop by unannounced and give unsolicited advice on pretty much any subject. He would critique Harry’s robes, the way he held his quill, the fact that his glasses had a scratch on the lens. In fact it seemed no subject was too trivial for Malfoy to comment on.

Sometimes he would actually be helpful, like giving insight into some of Harry’s cases. Draco knew a lot about dark wizards and the darker side of magic and sometimes he was a valuable resource. But of course Harry would never tell Malfoy that. He didn’t need Draco’s head getting any bigger.

“So Granger has invited me to dinner tonight,” Draco said casually as he rifled through the papers on Harry’s desk looking for anything interesting.

“You still can’t call her Hermione?” Harry teased, batting Draco’s hand away.

“You still call me Malfoy,” Draco shot back accusingly, shoving his hands in the pockets of his robe.

“Only sometimes,” Harry said defensively. He took a moment to consider it. Maybe he had a point. “Fine, I’ll work on it.”

Draco’s lips began curling into a smile that Harry could only describe as devious. “How about we make a bet, Pot- Harry,” he corrected quickly. “First person to call the other by their last name loses.”

Harry cocked his head to the side and considered it. “And what does the winner get?”

Draco shrugged. “Whatever they want.”

“Within reason,” Harry amended. “Loser gets the right to veto and make the winner chose something else.”

“One veto.”

“Two.”

“Very well,” Draco said, holding his hand out for Harry to shake on it. “If you need that much of a security blanket then fine. You’re clearly scared of what I’ll do to you once I win.”

Harry shook Draco’s hand a little harder than was strictly necessary. “We’ll see about that.”

***

Harry sat down at the table with Hermione, Ron and Draco, thinking just how novel it was that the four of them were spending time together willingly. Ron looked a bit like he had just eaten a boogey flavored bean but he didn’t say anything rude to Draco. Harry knew Hermione had warned Ron to be on his best behavior. He knew this because Hermione had barged into his office an hour before the end of the day and given him a similar threatening speech.

In truth, Harry hadn’t really needed it. Over the course of Draco stopping by his office, Harry now considered them something akin to friends. He certainly never thought he’d have a playful friendship with Draco where they made silly bets over dinner. Novel indeed.

Draco picked up his menu and began to peruse it. “What do you think you’re going to get, Harry?” Draco asked him when there was a lull in the conversation.

“Since when do you call him Harry?” Ron asked sourly.

Draco glanced over at Harry and winked. “Since recently,” he responded vaguely, ignoring the fact that Ron was staring daggers at him.

Harry picked up his own menu and skimmed it quickly. They were at some French restaurant and Harry didn’t know how to pronounce half the things on the menu. “I’ll probably just get a steak or something,” he said with a shrug.

Draco hummed as if that choice were acceptable. “I was thinking perhaps the duck confit.”

Harry laughed. “I have no idea what that is. Do you speak French?”

“Oui,” Draco said with a smug smirk. “I learned French from my mother at a young age. Learning French was a Black family tradition. I’m sure Sirius knew French as well.”

“I’m not sure,” Harry said, furrowing his brow. It was still maddening how little he knew about his godfather and how few moments they’d had together. “I don’t think he ever mentioned it. Sirius was hardly a typical Black.”

“That is true,” Draco said, taking a sip of his water. “Sorry for your loss. I feel as though I’ll never be done apologizing to your for the people my family stole from you.”

“You don’t have to apologize to me for the actions of other people,” Harry said, placing his hand lightly on top of Draco’s.

“And what about my own actions?” Draco asked, his eyes searing as he looked over at Harry.

Harry laced his fingers through Draco’s and gave his hand a small reassuring squeeze before pulling away. “I already forgave those,” Harry explained with a shrug. “That’s why we’re able to be friends now, Draco.”

“Friends?” Draco repeated softly, looking down at the hand Harry had been holding moments ago.

Harry laughed quietly, not wanting to offend Draco. “Yeah, friends.”

***

By the time their food had come, Hermione and Ron were deep in conversation about the wedding plans, with Harry chipping in as needed. For the most part though, Harry kept up conversation with Draco, reminiscing about old Quidditch matches and keeping away from heavy subjects like Draco’s family or the war.

“You’ve got to try this,” Draco said, holding his fork halfway between them in offering.

Harry made a face in response.

Draco rolled his eyes. “Live a little, Harry.”

Harry huffed and leaned forward, taking the fork into his mouth and tasting the bite of duck on it. The food practically melted in Harry’s mouth and he couldn’t hold back to moan that escaped. “Oh fuck, Malfoy that’s incredible.”

Draco licked his lips and then they curled into a devilish smile.

“What?” Harry asked self-consciously. He could feel his cheeks going red in embarrassment. He had no idea why Draco was looking at him like that.

“You lost the bet,” Draco said triumphantly. “You just called me Malfoy.”

“Oh shit,” Harry said, carding his fingers through his messy hair. “So, what are you going to do with me?”

“You’ll see,” Draco said, his eyes glinting with mischief. “It’ll have to wait until after dinner.”

“Can’t wait,” Harry grumbled unhappily, pouting slightly at having lost.

***

Harry didn’t live too far from the restaurant so instead of disapparating home he decided to walk. It was a little disconcerting to have Draco as his companion on the way home. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted Draco to know where he lived. Not that he thought Draco would spill it to the Dailey Prophet or anything, but Harry in general was careful giving out his address.

“So what happened with you and the Weasley girl?” Draco asked in a way that wasn’t entirely polite but wasn’t rude either.

“Ginny,” Harry said, hip checking Malfoy lightly. “You know her name is Ginny.”

“Yes her,” Draco sneered. “What happened?”

Harry sighed. “We tried the whole long distance thing for a while but it just didn’t pan out. We’re still good friends but she’s got her life and I’ve got mine and they feel very separate, you know?”

“I feel that way about a lot of the friends I had at school,” Draco confessed. “I hardly see most of them anymore. I suppose you grow up and you grow apart. It’s inevitable.”

They fell into a companionable silence for the next few blocks. Harry couldn’t help wondering what Draco’s old school friends would think if they could see him now, hanging out with Harry Potter of all people. Harry had certainly never imagined he would enjoy the pleasure of Draco’s company.

“So how long are you going to keep me in suspense?” Harry asked when they arrived at his front door. “Or did you need the time to come up with a good enough punishment?”

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. “What makes you think it’ll be a punishment?”

Harry grinned good-naturedly. “Because it’s you?”

“Well,” Draco began, taking a step towards Harry. “You may consider it a punishment but for me it’s fulfilling a childhood fantasy.”

Harry swallowed around the lump that had formed in his throat. “And what would that be?”

“I want to spend the night at Harry Potter’s house.”

“Oh,” Harry said, laughing a little in relief. “You want to have a sleepover? That’s something you wanted?”

Draco huffed. “Yes obviously.”

“Obviously,” Harry echoed dumbly, still trying to rationalize the information he’d just been given.

“Everyone wanted to be your friend, Harry,” Draco said as if annoyed to have to fill Harry in on this fact. “You were famous before even coming to Hogwarts. I knew you were going to be in my year. I used to imagine the things we would do together once we became friends. I would rehearse what I would say to you when we finally met.”

One side of Harry’s mouth twitched with the want to smile. “You probably should have practiced that a bit more, mate. From what I remember you came off like a right prick.”

Draco glowered at him. “I was an eleven year old boy trying to impress you. I feel like my whole life has been trying to impress you. Even if the things I did horrified you at least you would take notice of me.”

Harry blinked a few times behind his glasses. “Draco, it wasn’t as if I ignored you. You made that nearly impossible with all the shite you pulled.”

Draco took another step forward and cupped Harry’s face in his hand. “Even after all this time I still feel like that eleven year old who desperately wants to call Harry Potter his friend.”

Harry smiled. “You are my friend. You don’t have to try so bloody hard.”

Draco grinned in response. “Yes I do.”

“Why?”

“Because now I have to figure out how to get you to fall in love with me,” Draco explained softly, letting his thumb brush over Harry’s cheekbone. “I can only hope it won’t take quite as long because I’m losing patience by the minute.”

Harry felt his heart begin to race at Draco’s admission. “Then you should probably kiss me sooner rather than later.”

Draco’s eyes widened in surprise. “You would let me do that?”

Harry nodded. “Go on then.”

“Don’t do me any favors…”

“For fuck’s sake, Draco,” Harry growled, grabbing the front of Draco’s robes and kissing him furiously. His lips were hard and insistent as he coaxed Draco’s tongue into his mouth. It was deep and consuming and Harry felt the moment Draco gave himself over to it. Draco was still touching Harry’s cheek, the gentleness of it a stark contrast to the fervent kisses.

“Harry…” Draco whispered, his voice sounding broken.

“Come inside,” Harry requested gently. “You can spend the night and we’ll work on that whole falling in love business.” Harry licked his lips and smiled knowingly. “It shouldn’t take long at all.”

#drarry #i write things #mrjamescharluspotter #long post #Harry Potter x Draco Malfoy #post hogwarts #fluff

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theprodigypenguin · 5 years

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89 Jegulus

89: “I didn’t know you could sing.”

I was hoping I’d get an excuse to write about my headcanon of Regulus having the voice of a fucking angel, so thank you very much anon. I’ve been thinking about how to write this lil fic ALL day and it ended up being waaaay longer than I planned, whoops. Enjoy!

James had never felt so betrayed before in his life as he kicked at the grass he was walking across, hands shoved into his pockets and head ducked as he made his way across the field of grass and down towards Black Lake. He was currently alone, which almost never happened, but for the next hour Peter, Remus, and Sirius were all serving detentions. James hadn’t even realized he was the odd man out until he was suddenly standing alone in the hall watching Sirius get dragged away towards the trophy hall, looking miserable. James had turned to quip at Remus how reckless Sirius was and “he should definitely follow my lead more”, but Remus wasn’t next to him, and neither was Peter. How was it James could be so used to having them next to him, he doesn’t even realize if they aren’t there, because where else would they possibly be?

So he had an hour to spare, sighing in boredom as he reached the edge of the lake and stared out over it, slouching his shoulders and trying to decide how to pass the time when an unexpected sound broke through the sound of the lake water lapping against the pebbles around James’ shoes. Music, he realized. Someone was singing, and it was such a smooth, haunting voice that James almost expected to see a ghost or a phantom. The voice singing was rich and made a shiver race down James’ back, distinctly male, and the lyrics were uttered like they were holy verses not meant for mortal ears.

James shuffled away from the edge of the lake, creeping as quietly as he could to the outcropping of trees that were hanging over the water, the roots twisted out of the ground and wrapping together, buried into the lake and deep into the bedrock below the surface of the water. The willow trees that had grown together had roots half in the water and half out, leaves and branches hanging like a veil to just brush the water and make it ripple. James did his best not to make a sound as he maneuvered over the protruding roots, climbing over them and reaching out to push aside the veil of hanging leaves so he could reach the closest tree trunk, then inched his way to the side, clinging to the bark as he peered around the wide trunk, stunned at who he found sitting there, hidden by the leaves and sitting on one of the large roots.

Regulus Black, of all people, was sitting with his heavy robes draped over the root next to him, leaving him in only his black trousers, shoes, white uniform button up shirt, and green and silver Slytherin tie that was hanging loosely around his neck. His sleeves had been folded back above his elbows, his bag sitting open at his feet and a book open on his lap, though he didn’t appear to be reading it. His black hair had been pushed out of his face and tied at the back of his head, though strands had fallen out of the tie and hung in front of his eyes, which seemed to be half closed. There was a rather small orange cat curled up on top of Regulus’ robes, the tip of its tail twitching and its eyes closed as it purred, lying against Regulus’ thigh as if listening to his voice; and he was singing.

James hadn’t spoken a word to Regulus since before the summer when Sirius had shown up at his door looking as if he��d been beaten within an inch of his life. It had been a while. James probably wouldn’t admit it out loud, especially to Sirius (he knew how sensitive a topic his family was), but James had been insanely worried about Regulus. If those people were willing to hurt Sirius the way they did, what was happening to Regulus now that his brother was gone? So he was rather pleased to see Regulus didn’t look unhealthy or injured in some way. In fact, James had never seen the younger Black look so relaxed before. Relaxed, yes, unharmed, fine, but the lyrics of the song he was singing as he turned the page in his book without looking at it hit James in a different way. Even while the melody was pleasant, the lyrics held a melancholy worthy of a Black, and it broke James’ heart.

He tried to look closer, shifting a bit, feeling his heel slip before his mind could register it, landing with a painful crash and grunting as he found himself somehow flipped, his legs tangled in tree roots, glasses falling off his face, robes flung around him. He was staring directly at Regulus, who’d stopped his serenade abruptly and was hugging his book to his chest with wide eyes locked on James as the ugly cat beside him hissed at the Gryffindor, who had elegantly slipped off his perch and was now lying on his back, halfway to being upside down, his head and back aching.

“Oh, um, hello there Regulus,” James greeted as casually as he could manage, offering a sheepish grin. “Fancy seeing you here, huh?”

Regulus scrambled onto his feet, grabbing his robes and his bag, shoving his book into his bag as the orange cat hopped gracefully off the root to follow as the Slytherin tried to put distance between himself and James, who was staggering and stumbling as he rolled onto his stomach and up onto his hands and knees.

“Wait! Hang on!” James was frantic as he lunged forward, grabbing Regulus by the arm before he could get through the veil of weeping willow leaves and branches, tugging him back a few steps before stopping as Regulus turned to give him a scalding glare.

For a moment James was frozen and unable to talk, he could still hear the sound of Regulus’ singing voice, the words burning into his brain like a hot iron leaving a permanent brand.

“What?!” Regulus yelled, and James blinked in response before managing to speak.

“I… I didn’t know you could sing.” Regulus looked even more annoyed, but his face had filled out with red from embarrassment and humiliation, ducking his head as if to make it easier. “I mean, Sirius can sing, super well in fact, but… I mean… this is a major compliment, but I think you’re even better than… him… you know?”

Regulus just glared at James. “Being compared to my brother isn’t a compliment, Potter.” He yanked his arm away from James’ grip, but didn’t leave the trees. In fact he stepped back over to the root he’d been sitting on before, dropping back onto it but not letting go of his things as the orange cat hopped up next to him, bumping its head into Regulus’ shoulder.

James motioned to it. “I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Regulus said, watching the ginger cat prod onto his lap, essentially kicking off the robes and the bag before flopping down, ears flicking.

“When did you get him?”

“I found him a few months ago,” James was surprised he actually answered, watching Regulus scratch behind the cat’s ears. “He was lost in the snow, I found him when I was at Hogsmeade.”

“You rescued him then.”

“Yes.”

“That’s really nice,” was all James could manage to say, and Regulus cast him yet another glare, flinching noticeably when James walked closer, sitting down on a lifted root a few feet away from Regulus. “So… what was that song you were singing?”

“Sod off, Potter.”

“I’m just curious. I liked it. Did you write it?”

Regulus turned his head to seeth at James, but although he was glaring and looked like he wanted to strangle him, his cheeks were bright red, and for a moment James had to struggle against a smile as his eyes went from Regulus to the ginger cat in his arms, both of them bristling similarly. Regulus was acting like a scorned cat, and honestly, it was pretty cute.

“I told you to sod off. Where the hell are my brother and the rest of your stupid friends? Go bother them!”

“Wish I could, Reggie,” James said in a sigh, leaning back with his hands on either side of him and tilting his head. “Those three all have detentions, so I’m on my own for the next forty minutes.”

“How is that my problem?”

“You just happened to be here, not my fault,” James argued, noting the way Regulus tensed up, jaw setting as he turned his head away and scowled. James tried to ease into his next statement, stretching his arms up. “Not that I mind of course. I’d rather have run into you here than someone else. I never get to talk to you, being in different houses, you know? When’s the last time we had a chat, huh?”

Regulus looked dumbfounded. “Do you mean never?”

“We’ve talked before-”

“When?” Regulus interrupted, looking furious. “Name one time you’ve ever willingly stopped to hold a conversation with me. Go ahead, one time.”

James watched Regulus quietly for a moment, the way he was hugging the little ugly orange cat and curling forward like he felt he was being attacked, trying to protect the most vulnerable pieces of himself, like his heart. Regulus looked on edge and overly cautious, clearly not trusting James to be so close, and it made him realize just how much Regulus must be hurting.

“Why are you alone?” James found himself asking. “You’re not with friends on your free period?”

Regulus looked momentarily exhausted before turning his head down, reaching up to stroke the ugly cat’s head. “No.”

“Why not? Are they in detention too?”

“I don’t have friends,” Regulus blurted, then a look of shock lifted his face, like he couldn’t believe he’d actually said that out loud, pressing his lips tightly together and hunching his shoulders more.

James could only stare for a moment, shaking his head. “No, that’s not true. You’re the Slytherin Seeker, you’re famous, I’ve heard tons of people praise you and say how cool you are. There’s always someone next to you talking to you.”

Regulus just shook his head, staring at the ground. “Having people following me around wanting to be my friend because of status or name is different than actually having friends.”

James felt uneasy. “So you’re telling me you’ve been completely on your own for the past few years, without a single friend?”

“Friends have come and gone, once they’ve gotten their fill of my draining presence,” Regulus drawled maybe a little too dramatically, looking up at the green canopy, “and I wasn’t supposed to be alone…”

James felt something like guilt at that last statement, seeing through the vague and unspoken truth that Regulus hadn’t actually said. He was never planning to be alone when he came to Hogwarts, that had never been the plan. He was supposed to have Sirius in Slytherin house with him. James felt guilty, because even if Regulus was in Slytherin house, he was still Sirius’ brother, and James loved Sirius, so why didn’t he try to help Regulus sooner?

It would have been only natural, right? James, Peter, and Remus were all only children. That made Regulus special in their little quartet. He was the designated little brother, but James had been so blinded by Sirius’ own resentment towards his parents, that he didn’t even realize Sirius wasn’t the only one being hurt by them. Maybe if he’d reached out sooner to Regulus, taken him in like he’d taken Sirius when they first met on the train, maybe things would be different. Regulus wouldn’t be sitting by himself under the willows singing a broken song about loneliness and love.

James stood up and shuffled closer to Regulus, who froze up but didn’t protest as James plopped down next to him, their shoulders touching. Regulus seemed to be watching him suspiciously, one hand close to the wand sticking out of his pocket, like he was preparing to hex or stun James if he did something threatening. That was something else, that defensive reflex as if Regulus was simply used to people turning on him.

“What book were you reading?” James asked, leaning down to pull the book out of Regulus’ bag, noting the etching of a broom sewn into the cloth cover and feeling over the title: Brooms over the Centuries. “Oh this is wicked! Is it like a history book of brooms?”

“That is what the title might suggest,” Regulus mumbled in irritation, but he moved his hand away from his wand to instead wrap his arm back around the orange cat, who was watching James with an ugly face and wide eyes.

Despite how irritated inconvenienced he acted, after a moment of flipping through the pages in the book and making notes on how cool the brooms were, Regulus ended up leaning towards James, so close their faces were nearly touching as Regulus clung to James’ arm and pointed out the moving illustrations and gave narrative of each one, clearing having already memorized the book.

“In the beginning witches and wizards didn’t have brooms, they just used tree branches to fly, but it was dangerous and not very accurate, so after some experimentation they came to the conclusion that adding broom tails to the backs actually made it easier to navigate in the sky.” Regulus was pointing at a diagram on the page of how a basic broom was made, and James snickered.

“Can you even imagine trying to play Quidditch with just a tree branch?”

“People think it’s a dangerous game now,” Regulus said in amusement, and laughed at his own joke as James laughed with him.

“Merlin, these old brooms look so dumb, but I can’t help but want one! I’ll hang it on my wall with all my Quidditch stuff!”

“I think they’re opening a broom museum in Northern Ireland,” Regulus said, reaching into his bag as James gaped at him.

“No way, really?!”

“Yeah, I read it in Quidditch Weekly.” Regulus sat straighter with a magazine in hand, flipping it open to the page where an article was detailing the opening of a new Museum dedicated to flying brooms, with a sub section dedicated to Quidditch.

“Oh man, we have go!” James said in excitement. “When does it open?”

He didn’t realize he’d said the wrong thing until he realized Regulus wasn’t answering, tearing his eyes from the magazine and instead looking at the drawn expression on the Slytherin’s face, like he was waking up from a dream, blinking his silvery eyes and furrowing his brow. Like he hadn’t even noticed he’d been having such easy conversation with James.

James took a slow breath before smiling, shutting the book on his lap. “Regulus.”

The younger boy blinked and turned to look at James, who hesitated and noted they were still close, shoulders pressing together and faces inches apart. Close enough that James could see the ivory of Regulus’ skin blemished by splotches of red and tanned sections that he never would have noticed from a distance. From a distance Regulus looked like porcelain, like an invaluable doll, untouchable and perfect and unblemished, but this close James could see tiny imperfections that made him seem so much more human. The tiny spots of sunburn, the tan on his cheeks and forehead, tiny scars near his lips and peeking out of the pitch black of his eyebrows from one too many Quidditch injuries to the face (and maybe one or two hexes). Regulus’ eyes were piercing grey and silver, but the left eye seemed to be a fraction of a shade darker than the right. They were lighter than Sirius’ eyes, James realized. Even his hair somehow looked different. While Sirius kept his somewhat wild and untamed, Regulus’ looked soft and silky and reflected against the sun that filtered through the leaves.

“Can you sing that song?” James asked on a breath, blurting it out when he decided he’d been staring for too long. Regulus looked immediately uncomfortable, so James reached out to grab one of his hands, not even paying attention to how he squeezed his fingers as he kept eye contact with the younger Black. “Please. I want to hear you sing again.”

Regulus seemed to consider it, lips parting to take in a sharp inhale before it caught in his throat, eyes going wide when another familiar voice sounded.

“Prongs, you down here?!” Sirius, just beyond the veil of leaves, down by the lake edge with Remus and Peter. “Mar says she saw you shuffle down here, you better not be planning to jump out at us!”

James met Regulus’ eye, feeling something akin to loneliness as the Slytherin shoved his things into his bag and stumbled frantically over the roots, the opposite direction of Sirius and the others. James yanked his wand out as he reached out to grab Regulus by his wrist, holding his wand up and quickly uttering a silencing spell to muffle his voice from his friends, leaning towards Regulus so their foreheads were touching.

“Later, you have to promise. You’ll sing that song for me later. Promise?”

Regulus looked frightened and hopeful at the same time, looking over James’ shoulder before meeting his eye and nodding, then turned and pulled out of his grip, disappearing through the hanging leaves.

James slowly lowered his wand, turning sluggishly and pausing when he caught sight of the ugly orange cat still perched on the root of the tree. “Watch after him for me, yeah?”

The cat flicked its tail and hopped off the root to follow Regulus, and James took a breath, turning to join his friends but unable to think of anything that wasn’t the hauntingly beautiful sound of Regulus’ song.

Send in prompts: Dialogue Prompts | Miscellaneous Prompts

#jegulus #amelia writes mini fics #mini fics #seekerchaser #regulus black #james potter #regulus arcturus black #send me prompts!

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philipronans · 5 years

Text

go where you breathe free [1/7]

this was meant to be a oneshot for @gxldentrio‘s birthday but as per usual things ran away from me and now i’m in hell. this also isn’t what i originally intended, hence why it’s late so for that i’m sorry! sirius is pretty depressed in this, just in case anyone needs to take care of themselves - i don’t think trigger warnings are needed, he’s just very in his own head about it

the first week

Sirius wakes up to the smell of something floral wafting through the open crack of his bedroom door. He battles, briefly, with the exhaustion pulling at his eyelids, and kicks his legs free of the duvet, pushing it towards the bottom of his bed. It’s hot, even for late May, and although his curtains are drawn tightly across his window he can already feel sweat starting to prickle against the backs of his knees. Sitting up is a task in and of itself; there’s a lethargy settled in the very marrow of him that means it takes him a few attempts before he succeeds.

Finding clean clothes quickly becomes another adventure, hidden amongst everything else on his floor as they are, like flakes of gold buried in the sand. Not that he even needs to get dressed, really - it’s not like James, or Lily for that matter, have never seen him in his underwear before - but there’s a voice in the back of his head whispering with the volume of an earthquake to do it. So, he roots around for a pair of jeans that aren’t obviously stained with anything, and then has to sift through several t-shirts before managing to find one that doesn’t smell like three day old Chinese.

Sirius kicks wearily at the pile - more like mountain, if he’s being honest - closest to him, and sighs. He doesn’t bother promising himself to clean it up later, just turns around so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore, and picks his way over to the mirror in the corner. The Sirius in the reflection is wan, dark circles taking up residence under his eyes, and he prods at them with the pads of his fingers. He flicks idly at the sleep gathered on his eyelashes and then scrapes a hand through his hair to pull it into something resembling a ponytail. It’s been a few days since he last ran a hairbrush through it, and it shows. Pursing his lips, Sirius rolls the hairband from his wrist and double ties it.

Lily is already in the kitchen by the time he wanders in, scratching at the stubble lining his cheek and trying to ignore the way it catches on his fingertips. A huge bouquet of flowers - that he won’t even begin to pretend he knows the names of - lays on the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room. A vase stands at her elbow, filled halfway with water, and she’s got the sachet of flower food in one hand, a pair of extremely large scissors in the other. She doesn’t look at him until the last drop of food lands in the water, but when she does, her smile is brilliant.

“Good morning!” She says, stepping away from the counter so she can drop the packet and the cellophane wrap in the bin.

Sirius watches her for a few moments before the smell of whatever the flowers are gets him to edge a little closer. “Mornin’. Where’s James?”

“Nipped over to Tescos.” She says, letting the lid of the bin clang shut again. Then she shifts a little so she can quickly wash her hands. Lily’s eyes are kind when she glances over her shoulder at him. “You sleep okay? James said you might have trouble because of how sodding hot it is.”

There’s a warmth in his chest that Sirius doesn’t have the words to explain, so he shrugs. He shuffles over to the fridge and doesn’t even bother getting out a glass before taking several long pulls from the carton of orange juice (without pulp, he’s not an animal). “It was… okay.” He says eventually, ignoring the face Lily pulls when he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s been worse.”

There are parts of him that Lily’s missing, that he refuses to let her see no matter how much he trusts her, but just this once she seems to hear what he’s omitting because she’s smiling again. “That’s good.”

It doesn’t take long for Sirius to grow itchy with the way she’s looking at him, so he quickly sets about getting himself breakfast instead. He has no idea what the time actually is, but in his humble opinion, there is no wrong time for a bowl of coco pops. No matter how many times James tries to convince him they’re rank. Sadly, there’s only one box left - the variety pack he’d bought slowly dwindling until all he’s left with a rice krispies. He pulls a face, even as he resigns himself to the fact he’s going to have to get more at some point.

Lily waits until he’s got his head buried in the fridge again, with his bowl tucked against his chest, before saying, “There’s no milk left.” The smile she gives him is mischievous, and he can’t even find it in himself to be annoyed about it.

Sirius would be lying if he said he doesn’t briefly consider using the orange juice instead. Briefly. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time. Instead he lets the door fall shut with a thud and stares forlornly down at his cereal.

“James should be back soon, I think. He wasn’t going out for much.” Lily offers, and when he lifts his head long enough to look at her, she’s leaning against the edge of the sink with her arms crossed loosely under her chest. Her smile is kind. He tries not to see the pity in it, and ducks his head back down.

Instead of answering her, he moves over to the dining table, footsteps inneringly soft against the floorboards even now. He slumps into the nearest chair, bowl sat in front of him, taunting, and he reaches out to grab a handful. Popping a few into his mouth, Sirius starts chewing hard enough to feel it in his jaw. His eyes are unfocussed, staring aimlessly at the photograph hanging on the opposite wall. None of it gets processed, it’s all just one swirl of colour bleeding into another.

An undetermined amount of time later - although it’s probably only a few minutes, given the meagre dent he’s made in his coco pops - Lily places a tall glass of orange juice at his elbow.

Sirius manages to drag his attention from the wall long enough to meet her eye. “Thanks.” He mutters, voice barely more than a croak.

Lily hovers for a moment, clearly unsure of whether to sit down with him or not. It doesn’t take her long to make her mind up, though, because she leaves him alone - he’s grateful for that, too.

The quiet isn’t… nice, exactly. But it’s peaceful; gives him time to come back to himself. It happens slowly, as it so often does; colours bleeding into each other until they become tangible - things he can reach out and touch if he wants to. For the moment he just focuses on the table, the wood worn smooth from countless days spent just like this one.

The universe is a metronome and Sirius the pendulum, tick tick ticking through his own existence without hope of ever slowing down or stopping. Sometimes he falls out of rhythm, whenever life decides to knock him off kilter, but he always manages to find his way back eventually. Today is no exception, and once he feels present enough in his own head to actually do something, he fiddles with the glass of orange juice for a brief moment before downing half of it in one go.

He takes it with him, dangingling it loosely from his fingertips, when he finally gets up. The bowl gets left behind, but he makes a silent vow to actually eat as soon as James gets home. Their flat isn’t exactly small, especially given they’re in London and the rent is cheap, but there aren’t all that many places he can go other than his room. So when he ends up in the living room, Lily doesn’t so much as blink as she puts her book down and reach for the remote. She doesn’t even seem to notice the magazine that goes careening off the coffee table onto the floor.

Instead she raises an eyebrow at him and gestures with the remote. Her nail varnish is chipped around the edges, jagged electric blue in stark contrast with how pale she is. “Wanna watch something?” One of the wonderful things about Lily, and there are several even if Sirius is loathe to admit it, is that there is never any expectation. He’s free to do, or not, whatever he pleases whenever he wants - it can be overwhelming sometimes, just how free she lets him feel.

For the first time this week he doesn’t feel like he has to escape back to the safety of his bed, so he sets his glass down on one of the free coasters and picks the magazine up as he sinks into the sofa cushions. It’s not a big sofa, by any means, but sometimes it feels like they’re on opposite sides of a very large chasm. Sirius meets her excited little grin with the smallest twitch of his own mouth. Maybe not quite a chasm.

“What did you have in mind?”

-----

They’re only half an hour into their chosen movie when James gets home, but Sirius is barely paying attention anyway. There had been a brief, albeit passionate, debate on the merits of shitty horror versus shitty sci-fi, before they’d settled on a low budget, straight-to-DVD slasher.

The only noise James makes for a few minutes is the rustling of plastic shopping bags - more Bags For Life, from the sounds of it. Just their luck. Sirius finds himself glancing over at Lily when cupboard doors start banging, and he isn’t entirely sure why, even as she sinks further into the cushions.

“I’m too lazy to move.” She says by way of explanation, and it’s enough to get a laugh out of him. It’s rusty, catching in his throat in its desperate bid for freedom, but it makes Lily’s eyes soften. Sirius pretends he doesn’t notice, even if there is a heat in his cheeks he can’t quite ignore.

Thankfully Lily turns back to face the screen, leaving him time to try and make his body do what it’s told. The murderer lumbers out of the woods just as Sirius manages to push himself to his feet, hatchet swinging from their hand as they hunt down one of the incredibly dumb teenagers that somehow always seem to be the protagonists.

“Want anything?” He asks, because despite everything else that might be said about him, he still has manners.

Lily watches him for several seconds, but just as it starts bordering on too long she shakes her head. “No, thanks.”

Nodding, Sirius snags his glass and then quietly pads out of the room, followed by the sound of the first kid being hacked to death.

There are a lot of things Sirius is ready and willing to brag about being good at, but one of the few things he truly prides himself on is his ability to be very quiet when needed. The noise in his head is so loud, all the time, that he’s always used his own silence as a weapon. Even now, it’s no different, and the way James smacks his head on the open cupboard door is both validating and hilarious. Sirius doesn’t do anything more than snigger as he pads over to the sink so he can rinse his glass out - experience has taught him more than once just how disgusting dried juice is to clean.

“You have got to stop doing that.” James grumbles, rubbing at the vaguely pink mark on his forehead. Sirius has to fight down the urge to wrap his fingers around James’ narrow wrist, something strange coiling in his belly.

He tries not to think about it too hard. “You’re gonna make it worse.” He says instead, rocking back on his heels and shoving his hands in his pockets. “I thought being blind meant everything else was enhanced, anyway?”

“That only works if you abide by regular human physics.” James says, voice nearing on a whine. There’s a glint in his eye that suggests mischief, though, and Sirius feels something in him settle. James shakes his head, roots around in the nearest bag for a moment, and before Sirius gets a chance to see what he’s doing, something sharp hits him in the chest. He has to scrabble to catch it, but when he looks down it’s to see a new variety pack of cereal against his chest. “You’re almost out, right?”

Sirius eyes him curiously for a moment, that same strange feeling settling heavy in his lungs and making his breath painful. It eases as Sirius smiles. “Cheers, mate.”

#jilypad #jily #prongsfoot #hp fic #hanahaki au #vic writes #i didn't wanna say in the description just so i wasn't dragging things out but this is indeed a hanahaki au #which means things are gonna get real angsty #like this au isn't bad enough on its own you've got me: the queen of angst #long post #sorry if you're on mobile and this doesn't show up under a read more

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aidanchaser · 5 years

Text

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets: Everyone Lives

Table of Contents beta’d by @ageofzero

Chapter Ten The Rogue Bludger

Lockhart’s classes had gotten worse than the pixies. They were as boring as Professor Binn’s lectures, and for Harry they were twice as embarrassing.

After the disaster with the Pixies, Lockhart had proceeded to teach only by reading passages from his books, and occasionally he would ask for a volunteer to reenact dramatic fights with him. Of course, Harry didn’t need to volunteer because Lockhart called on him every single time, no matter how many times Harry said no.

Harry’d used lots of excuses — “My throat’s sore from the screaming last time,” or, “I caught a cold in Quididtch practice yesterday,” or, “Why don’t you ever ask Ron to do it?” — and sometimes they worked. Today, however, Hermione told him he needed to play along without protest. They needed Lockhart to be in a good mood for their plan to work.

Harry was ready to reenact a ghoul banishing or a moderate household pest escalated to the level of a Shakespearean drama. He was not, however, ready for Lockhart to open up Wanderings with Werewolves and begin reading.

He inevitably called Harry to the front of the class to play the part of the werewolf. Harry cast a glance at Hermione who gave him an encouraging nod. He tried not to groan as he got to his feet.

“Nice loud howl, Harry,” Gilderoy said — Harry growled — “No, a howl, Harry.” Harry mimicked a pitiful wolf howl, and Lockhart moved on. “Exactly, and then, if you’ll believe it, I pounced — like this —” He leapt at Harry. “— slammed him to the floor —” And Harry dropped, face red with embarrassment and fury, “— thus, and with one hand, I managed to hold him down — with my other, I put my wand to his throat — I then screwed up my remaining strength and performed the immensely complex Homorphus Charm — he let out a piteous moan — go on, Harry ”

But Harry could keep quiet no more. He pushed Gilderoy off him and got to his feet. “You can’t hold a werewolf down with one hand! It would bite your hand off. And the Homorphus Charm doesn’t work on werewolves! Everyone knows the proper way to treat a werewolf is with a Wolfsbane Potion.”

Hermione looked like she might throw her book at him. The rest of the class sat in shock. If they had been bored before, they were paying attention now. No one had ever undermined Lockhart’s authority like this. But before Lockhart could tell Harry to sit down, or correct him, the bell rang.

Gilderoy Lockhart got to his feet and dusted off his robes. “Homework — compose a poem about my very accurate and true defeat of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf! Signed copies of Magical Me to the author of the best one!”

The class left with a quiet murmur, but Hermione lingered until everyone was gone. Ron and Harry waited at the door.

Hermione nervously approached Lockhart’s desk. “Professor Lockhart, er, I was trying to understand what you say in Gadding with Ghouls about slow-acting venoms, and —”

He sighed heavily. “And is my other favorite student about to tell me how venom from ghouls cures boils and burns?”

“No, not at all, I thought your defeat of the ghouls was clever and wonderful, really, especially with the tea-strainer,” Hermione said, and Lockhart seemed to perk up a bit at this praise. “I found a book that would help me understand it better, but it’s in the Restricted Section of the library, so I was wondering if —”

“Anything to help out the best student of the year,” Professor Lockhart said, and signed the parchment without even looking at it.

“Th-thank you,” Hermione said, and quickly went to rejoin Harry and Ron.

“That easy?” Ron snorted. “Really, Hermione, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.”

“I can’t believe he actually said the Homorphus Charm would cure a werewolf,” Harry seethed. “No Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher should say that. I can just imagine what Mum and Dad would say if they knew how awful he really was.”

“Your parents are Order of Merlin, aren’t they?” Ron whispered as Hermione handed the permission slip to Madam Pince. “Ask your dad to teach.”

“No way,” Harry whispered back. “My dad would be so annoying as a teacher. You think Lockhart plays favorites? I know my dad would try to come to all my Quidditch practices, and be in the dorm all the time — no way. I’m not asking my dad to teach.” Harry did love his father, but Sirius and James wanted to be so involved in Harry’s life that he thought having them at school would be something of a nightmare.

“You’ve got to ask him though,” Ron said, as Hermione led them to the location of Moste Potente Potions.

“He’d want to know what we were doing all the time,” Harry sighed. “He’d want to know why we had this book, what we were doing with it. He’d probably offer to turn into Snape and go with us!”

“That wouldn’t be so bad,” Ron laughed.

But Hermione wrinkled her nose. “He sounds like a terrible teacher.”

“He can’t possibly be worse than Professor Lockhart,” Ron said as they took the potions book out of the library.

Harry shrugged. “Well, if you’re so sure, you can ask him yourself tomorrow.”

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

When tomorrow did arrive, Harry was not excited. He stayed in bed for thirty minutes wondering if there was anyway to save himself the embarrassment of losing to Malfoy. He saw no way out of it other than to get it over with.

He nibbled at his breakfast, while Ron asked all kinds of questions about how much Harry’s parents knew about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Apparently, he was quite set on asking them to teach, despite Harry’s warnings.

And on the other side of Harry, Hermione was making a list of all the things they would need in a Polyjuice Potion.

Ron paused in his questions and leaned over to look at Hermione’s notebook. “Bits of whoever we’re turning into? How do you imagine we’ll get our hands on that?”

But Hermione’s response was interrupted by Sirius’s shout from the entrance of the Great Hall.

“Harry!”

Harry’s ears disappeared into his shoulders.

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said encouragingly, and stood up.

With his heart in his stomach, Harry got up from the table. Hermione and Ron walked with him to greet his parents, Uncle Remus, and Sirius, then they walked down to the Quidditch pitch together.

“Are you feeling alright, Harry?” Lily asked as they walked. She pressed a concerned hand to Harry’s forehead.

“I’m alright,” he mumbled and pushed her hand away.

“You’ll be great,” James said and squeezed his shoulder.

Harry made a vague sort of “Hm” that was neither assured nor disappointed as he went off to change into his Quidditch robes. As he was walking away, he heard Ron ask, “So, you guys are all Order of Merlin, right?”

In the locker room, Wood gave his usual speech about how this had to be the year they won. George whined about it raining again, and Harry morosely fitted his braces onto his arms before they walked onto the pitch.

There was, finally, one thing that made Harry less sure of their impending loss and more determined than ever to win, and that was seeing Draco’s arrogant smirk as the teams mounted their brooms. Finally, when faced with a challenge, Harry prepared to give this game his all and make everyone see that Draco was a terrible Seeker, Nimbus 2001 or no.

Madam Hooch blew her whistle and the players kicked off the ground.

Harry went straight up, prepared to keep an eye for the Snitch from a distance. Malfoy shot under him, more interested in showing off the speed of his broom than finding the Snitch first.

“Alright there, Scarhead?” Malfoy taunted over his shoulder.

Before Harry could thinking of a quick-witted retort, a Bludger came straight for him, and he barely managed to get out of its path.

“Close one, Harry!” George sped by and knocked the Beater back at Slytherin. It traveled a few yards from the force of the bat, but came whizzing right back at Harry.

Harry ducked under it, and George tried knocking it at Malfoy, but again the Bludger came right back at Harry.

Harry zipped towards the other end of the field, and he could hear the Bludger zooming straight for him. He went past Fred, who intercepted it and knocked it away, but again it went back for Harry.

“Is it supposed to be doing that?” Lily asked James.

“No,” James frowned, “it’s been charmed somehow.”

“We should stop the game,” Sirius said. “It’s cheating.”

“You saw the box opened and the game started. No Slytherins have touched that Bludger.” James shook his head. “It’s not right, but there’s no foul to call. Can’t say I even know what charm to use to stop it.”

“We could just explode it,” Sirius suggested.

“Or try Finite,” Remus said.

“If you want to be boring about it,” and Sirius shrugged.

Remus got up to tell Madam Hooch to stop the game, but James grabbed his arm. “We can’t interfere with the match. One of the teams could call for an inquiry, but it would forfeit the match. We can’t ask Harry to do that.”

“Of course we can,” Lily snapped, and gasped as Harry made a particularly sharp dive to avoid the bludger. “That thing will kill him.”

“No one’s died in Quidditch,” James said, though he sounded at least a little nervous.

“Not since the early nineteenth century, anyway,” Sirius said.

Lily looked about ready to leap onto the Quidditch pitch, so James quickly said, “Not because of the game — it was an entirely unrelated incident with the trees storming the stadium.” And he shot Sirius a stern glare for stirring up Lily.

On the field, Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to find the Snitch if he had to dodge the Bludger the whole time, but it wasn’t letting up. He’d told Fred and George to back off; they couldn’t keep it off him anyway, so they might as well defend the team from the other Bludger. But between the rain and the nauseating turns he had to keep up in order to avoid the rogue Bludger, there was no time to look for the Snitch.

“Training for the ballet, Potter?” Malfoy taunted after Harry finished a particularly complicated spin to dodge the Bludger.

Harry took a moment to glare at Malfoy as the Bludger whistled past him. And then — he couldn’t believe it — flitting right over Malfoy’s laughing head was the Snitch. But how to dive for it without alerting Malfoy it was there?

His split second pause was a mistake. The Bludger slammed into his arm. He could see Malfoy laughing at him, but he couldn’t hear anything over the ringing in his ears from the intense pain in his arm. He thought he would pass out, but no, he had to get that Snitch.

He shot forward at Malfoy, holding his hurt arm against his chest. Malfoy misinterpreted the sudden approach as an attack and dove out of the way. Harry stretched out his good arm and grabbed the Snitch. Then his broom skidded to the ground and he laid down in the mud beneath the rain.

When Harry managed to open his eyes again, he expected Madam Hooch, or Oliver Wood, or even his parents over him, but instead he saw Professor Lockhart. Even though he wanted to pass out again, he tried to sit up.

“No, not you. Where’s Sirius?” Sirius was the best at healing spells. Or Madam Pomfrey. Anyone but Lockhart. He looked around for help, but most of the Quidditch team was helping Fred and George wrestle the Bludger back into the box.

“Not to worry,” Lockhart said. “I’m only going to fix your arm.”

“It’s fine, thanks,” Harry said through gritted teeth.

“We can take him to Madam Pomfrey,” Oliver Wood said, and dropped his broom.

“No need, just lie back, Harry. It’s a simple charm I’ve done countless times.”

Even his mother wasn’t very good with healing spells, so Harry knew they were anything but simple. He was about to very angrily tell Lockhart no again, when he heard the click of Colin’s camera.

“Colin, please stop. Professor — where are my parents?”

“They’re coming,” Angelina said, and Alicia helped him sit up.

“Stand back, everyone,” Lockhart said. Harry tried to say no again, but Lockhart twirled his wand and he felt a strange tingling sensation in his arm. The crowd gasped, and Harry didn’t dare look down. It didn’t hurt. He didn’t feel anything in his arm, actually, but he didn’t want to know what everyone was gasping at.

“That can sometimes happen,” Lockhart said. “The important thing is —”

And then he heard his mother. “Harry! Harry, are you alright— oh!” It was a cry of alarm he knew well, from his injuries when he was younger, and an anger in it he also knew well — usually aimed at Sirius.

He opened his eyes just in time to see Sirius punch Gilderoy Lockhart in the face.

Then Remus grabbed Sirius and said, “You can’t go around punching people! Do you want to end up in Azkaban?”

“It’s not a crime to punch idiots in the face!” Sirius growled. “Look at Harry’s arm!”

Harry finally looked down at his arm and thought he was going to be sick. His arm was as limp as a rubber glove. The bone certainly wasn’t broken anymore — there were no bones at all.

“The important thing,” Lockhart said, holding his nose, “is that Harry isn’t in pain anymore. I just couldn’t bear to see how hurt he was, and had to do something immediately.”

“You’re an absolute idiot!” Lily shouted. “How dare you! How dare you try to treat my son when you’re only a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, when there are plenty more qualified wizards nearby, when his family is nearby — Who do you think you are?!”

James gently took her arm and tried to lead her away, but she refused to stand down.

Gilderoy Lockhart looked like a woman had never yelled at him in his life. “Madam,” he tried in an appealing tone, which also had an oddly stuffed sound to it, because his nose was dripping blood, “I understand you’re upset, but I am Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defence League, and five-time winner of Witch Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award. I assure you that I am perfectly qualified to perform a simple healing spell on a broken arm.”

“Oh, is that what you did? Simply healed my son’s arm? How would you like me to vanish all the bones in your nose off?” Lily pulled out her wand, and Harry seemed quite sure his mother would hex his professor. He had no complaints about this.

James grabbed Lily’s arm again, very aware that Colin was still snapping photos and Dumbledore had arrived on the Quidditch pitch, lead by Professor McGonagall.

“Lily,” he said quietly, “I think we ought to get Harry to the hospital wing.”

This seemed to be the only thing that brought any sense back into Lily. “Yes. Right.” She stuffed her wand back into her robes, but her face was still red with fury. Harry was a little disappointed with his father for stopping her. He would’ve loved to see Lockhart without a nose.

Sirius leaned close and whispered into Lily’s ear, “And, for future reference, there are no bones in the nose.”

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

Lily did not end up walking Harry to the hospital wing after all. She had a few more words with Dumbledore, who, realizing the publicity of the situation and the volume of her anger, calmly lead her away to his office, and motioned for an unusually sheepish Lockhart to follow. James and Sirius went along to keep Lily from getting violent, which meant that it was Remus who walked Harry to the infirmary along with Ron and Hermione.

That left Remus, Hermione, Ron, and Harry to listen to Madam Pomfrey’s tirade, which was arguably easier to listen to than Lily’s.

“You should have come straight to me!” she said furiously. “I can mend bones in a second — but growing them back — it’ll be painful. You’ll have to stay the night.” She set a pair of pajamas on the bed for Harry, then disappeared into her office. Ron drew the curtains around the bed and Uncle Remus helped Harry into his pajamas, since it was rather impossible to do with one arm.

“Can’t stick up for Lockhart anymore, eh, Hermione?” Ron said as he helped Remus pull Harry’s limp arm through the pajama sleeve.

“Professor Lockhart,” Remus corrected automatically, but even he sounded like he thought the title was ill-placed, and Harry laughed.

He did not laugh, however, when Madam Pomfrey gave him a cup of Skele-Gro. It was disgusting, and he nearly spit it out. After choking it down, he quickly gulped down a glass of water.

The Quidditch team came in to celebrate, with sweets and pumpkin juice, which perked Harry up, until Madam Pomfrey came storming through.

“This boy needs rest. He’s got thirty-three bones to regrow! Out! OUT!” And Ron and Hermione were shooed off with the rest of the Quidditch team, leaving only Uncle Remus behind, laughing quietly.

“What’s so funny?” Harry asked.

“When I spent days in the hospital, your father and Sirius and Peter all came to keep me company. They probably made enough noise for an entire Quidditch team.”

This reminded Harry of Lockhart’s lesson the previous afternoon, and he shared the story with Remus, who frowned.

“Yes, he was highly inaccurate, but you didn’t need to make a scene about it, Harry.”

“He was wrong! He’s a terrible teacher. Ron says Dad should be our teacher.”

“Goodness, no,” Remus laughed. “He and Sirius would be equally awful teachers. As smart as they are, and gifted in Defense Against the Dark Arts, there’s much more to teaching than knowledge in a subject.”

Harry and Remus laughed together about this for a moment, just until Harry’s parents arrived. They did not look very happy with each other, but Sirius looked thrilled. Harry couldn’t imagine what had happened in Dumbledore’s office.

“How do you feel?” his mother asked, and Remus stood so Lily could sit.

“I don’t feel anything yet,” he said. “Did you hex Lockhart?”

“Professor Lockhart,” Remus corrected wearily.

And Sirius burst out laughing. “Not anymore.”

“You got him fired?” Harry asked in shock.

Lily sighed heavily. “Not exactly.”

“It was brilliant,” Sirius said. “Your mum was incredible. She scolded Lockhart all over again, embarrassing him in front of Dumbledore, and then scolded Dumbledore for hiring him in the first place, and demanded Dumbledore hire someone else. And then Dumbledore told her, in his quiet and calm Dumbledore way —” Sirius put on a very solemn and serious face “ —‘There were no other applicants for the position, but if you’d be willing to fill it, you are more than welcome to.’ And Lockhart looked so furious!” Sirius started laughing so loudly, Madam Pomfrey came to kick him out, which only amused him more.

“Getting kicked out of the hospital wing? I would never,” he laughed.

Madam Pomfrey was not amused. “You’re more harm to my patients than you are helpful, if I remember correctly, Mr. Black.”

“I’ll keep him out of trouble, as usual.” Remus smiled gently, and led Sirius into the hallway, leaving Harry alone with his parents.

Harry stared at his mother. “You said you’d do it? You said yes?”

James folded his arms over his chest. “I told her not to. I told her she didn’t have to.”

“It’ll be fine,” Lily said and held onto Harry’s good hand. “Lockhart won’t be leaving. He’ll be staying on as an advisor, and of course I’ll need to use his books as the foundation for the coursework, even if they are terrible, but I can’t ask the students to get new ones. Really, James, if you don’t want me to stay, convince Remus to take the position.”

“He wouldn’t,” James sighed, and twisted his wedding band around his finger. “What am I supposed to do for the next seven months by myself?”

Lily gave an exasperated sigh and counted each task off on her fingers. “You could clean the house, take care of the garden, take care of Remus’s potion, make that practice Quidditch pitch you’ve been talking about for years, practice cooking since you dislike mine so much — honestly, there are a million and one things you can do. You’re being overdramatic.”

James did not seem to think he was being overdramatic. “What about Christmas?”

“You can come here for Christmas.”

“What about Valentine’s Day?”

“You can write a letter. I’m sure it will be lovely.”

“What about Easter?”

“James, really, you can visit on weekends. We’ll take Saturday trips into Hogsmeade. You could even buy a cottage there if you wanted to.”

That was the only suggestion that seemed to mollify James at all.

Around dinner time, Madam Pomfrey asked them to let Harry sleep. Lily kissed Harry’s forehead and told him she would see him in class Monday afternoon.

Harry was only allowed a bit of chicken broth for dinner. Solid food was not good for the bone regrowing process, so Madam Pomfrey said. After his broth and tea, Harry fell asleep surprisingly quickly. It had been a long and exhausting day.

He awoke in the middle of the night to a sharp pain in his arm and a house-elf sponging his forehead.

“Get off!” he said, and then he recognized the large eyes and snivelling house-elf. “Dobby? What are you doing here?”

“Harry Potter came back to school,” Dobby said sadly. “Dobby warned and warned Harry Potter. Ah, sir, why didn’t you heed Dobby? Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master’s dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir….”

As Dobby sobbed into the filthy tea cloth, Harry sighed and leaned back onto his pillows. “I’m sorry, but I’m not leaving.”

“Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make —”

Harry sat back up suddenly. “Your Bludger? You made that Bludger to try and kill me?”

“Not kill you, sir!” Dobby wailed. “Never kill you! Dobby only wanted to save Harry Potter’s life! Better to be sent home, grievously injured, than to remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!”

“Yeah? And why’s that?”

Dobby sobbed into his tea cloth again. “If only Harry Potter knew what he meant to us, the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world. Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir. We house-elves were treated like vermin. Of course, Dobby is still treated like that, sir, but mostly life has improved for my kind, since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord’s power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir, and Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the Dark days would never end, sir…. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are about to happen, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself, now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more —”

Dobby froze, suddenly. He’d said too much, so he grabbed Harry’s water basin and smashed it against his head. Harry looked frantically to Madam Pomfrey’s office, but there was no movement. He needed answers, fast.

“Tell me, Dobby, what do you know about the Chamber of Secrets? Who opened it before?”

“Ask no more of Dobby, sir, please. Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, Harry Potter, please.”

“If you can’t tell me,” Harry said, and winced as he tried to move his arm, “is there another house-elf who can? Another house-elf who remembers when Volde —” Dobby looked terrified, so Harry quickly corrected himself, “— He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in power?”

“There are many house-elves who still remember,” Dobby said, and sniffled, “but many of them are not free.”

“Do you know about a house-elf named Kreacher? He was supposed to help You-Know-Who with something a long time ago. I read about it in a letter. Is it about the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Kreacher serves the house of Black,” Dobby said, “but I do not know if he is free to speak. His masters are —”

Dobby froze again, and Harry wondered if he was about to hit himself again, but instead, there were footsteps in the hallway outside the infirmary.

“Dobby must go!” and then there was a crack as the house-elf apparated away.

Harry sighed and fell back into his pillows. He’d been so close to answers. He would have to look more closely at the book Sirius had given him as soon as he got out of the hospital.

The door opened suddenly, and Dumbledore and McGonagall carried in what looked like a statue. They set it on the bed and then Professor McGongall disappeared into Madam Pomfrey’s room.

Harry pretended to be asleep, and heard Madam Pomfrey whisper, “What happened?”

“Another attack,” said Dumbledore. “Minerva found him on the stairs.”

Harry lifted his head as much as he dared to see who it was. His heart sank into his stomach. Little Colin Creevey was lying on the bed, camera pressed against his face.

“Petrified?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“I’m afraid so,” Professor McGonagall said. “You don’t think he managed to get a picture of his attacker?”

Harry heard the pop of the camera backing, and then smelled the burnt film and the hissing of steam.

“Goodness gracious,” Madam Pomfrey said. “It’s melted. What does this mean?”

“It means,” Dumbledore said calmly, “that the Chamber of Secrets is indeed open again.”

“Who would do such a thing?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“The question is not who, but how.”

Harry bit down on his lip as the pain in his arm increased, and he knew he had to get answers. If he couldn’t get them out of Dobby, he would get them out of his book, and if he couldn’t get them out of his book, he would get them out of Kreacher. Even if he had to ask Sirius Black for help.

—————————— ✶✶✶——————————

June 28, 1976

Dear Regulus,

I spoke to my mother, and asked her to calm Auntie Walburga down. She said she would talk to her, but my father and your mother seem to be quite firm in their decision. Uncle Alphard has tried to speak on Sirius’s behalf as well, but it sounds like Auntie is ready to blast him off the tree, too, if he says much more.

I’m so sorry. I know you must feel how I felt when we lost Drommie. But we’ll carry on. We’re the youngest ones and it seems that we must bear the burdens of our older siblings’ mistakes. I remember how hard it was to be at home right after we lost Drommie, and you’re welcome to spend your summer holiday with Lucius and I. The manor is positively splendid, and there’s an entire farm of peacocks I’ve been dying to show you. They’re beautiful creatures.

Don’t worry about Sirius too much. Family sticks together, and if he refuses to stay, he isn’t family. I know it’s hard to hear, but the sooner you can accept that, the easier the loss will be to bear.

I’ll write a formal invitation for you. Lucius is hardly home — his work in the ministry keeps him so busy — but he’s quite the conversationalist when he is home. And Bella loves to stop by. It would be wonderful to have you. Please accept the invitation.

Love, Narcissa

#harry potter everyone lives au #harry potter #harry potter and the chamber of secrets #harry potter everyone lives #hp everyone lives

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futurewriter2000 · 6 years

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Summer lies and jealous types(Young!Sirius Black x reader)

A/N: I love writing this imagine because I could totally make up a new character. I mean not make up but like just give him traits I think he would have. WOOO! Feeling so hyped, havent studed at all, probably going to fail my essay tomorrw but wish me luck for chemistry. I really hope you enjoy this (reblog)

Request: Hi there! Could you write a young Sirius x reader when he has liked her for a long time but never did anything but flirt until another guy starts hitting on her and he gets jealous and confesses that he loves her?? Thanksss

Six years. Six long years you suffered the presence of the most annoying, obnoxious Gryffindor, who has done nothing but flirt with you. It was normal in the First year, but Merlin he didn’t give up.

Today you started your final year in Hogwarts and it was a reflex you developed after six years of his annoyance. You heard him walk behind you, tiptoeing and trying to sneak up on you. You heard him jump and you immediatly ducked, tripping him and making him fall on the ground.

A smirk appeared on the corner of your lips and you quirked an eyebrow looking at the dark hair boy, who was lying on the ground. “ Black. “

He lifted his head, moving his hair away from his eyes. “(Y/L/N).” he replied and picked himself up. He patted his robes and fixed his Gryffindor tie. His hair was longer, curlier and you couldn’t help yourself but to notice how he has grown taller and muscular during the summer. “You look lovely today.”

“Thank you Sirius. You don’t look bad yourself.” you said, walking past him with your books pressed against your chest.

“Is that a compliment I heard. Usually I get ‘Piss off.’ or my favorite ‘Get out of my face you idjit’” he grinned, walking beside you.

“Well. I noticed I need to be a bit nicer towards people, even if it is the all-time-annoying little prick, Sirius Orion Black.” you smirked.

“There she is.” he laughed and opened the door for you.

“Thank you.” you thanked him and walked over to your friend Marlene. You prepared your books and a piece of parchment, ready to start this new term, when you suddenly noticed Marlene biting her lower lip and staring at Sirius. “Hungry now, are we?” you nudged her, making her almost fall of the chair.

“God, (Y/N). The way he kisses or his touch on my body. It’s addictive.” she sighed, biting her lower lip again.

You felt a weird punch in the gut as you heard her say that. “Oh…you-you two?” you tried to form a sentence while a big lump formed in your throat.

“ This summer yeah. It was just before school started.” she smiled, turning your head to you. “You want to hear it?”

“Yeah, sure. I would love to hear everything about your dirty sex life.” you said sarcasticly, rolling your eyes.

“Oh no. We didn’t have sex…yet. James walked in on us. That git.” she muttered under her breath and glowered at James, who was sitting next to Sirius.

Somehow you felt a big rock roll of your shoulder. But why? It’s not like you have feelings for the guy. Right? All he did for the past six years (and counting) was annoy you. I mean clearly he doesn’t like you like that, so why should you feel anything towards him. Even if he didn’t sleep with Marlene, he probably did with tons of girls and if he had a chance, he would probably shag Marlene too. So why do you feel relieved after hearing that. Why?

You looked over to Sirius, who was a table next to you. He had his arms behind his head with his elbows pointing out, a big bright smile as he listened to Proffesor Slughorn talking about the upcoming N.E.W.T’s. His eyes turned to yours all of a sudden and you quickly turned away. Did you just stare at Sirius? ‘Merlin (Y/N). He is Sirius Black.’ you told yourself.

When you turned around to his table, you saw a light smile formed on his lips. You returned him a smile and turned your attention back to Proffesor Slughorn and started writing on your parchment. If you only knew how much he likes you. How much he likes your sarcastic comments or your bitchy insults. Your (Y/H/C) hair as they fall out from our bun or how hard you try not to laugh at his inappropriate jokes. How can he not love a person like that.

After the class was over you walked out with Marlene and was just about to head to the library for the Potions book, before they run out of it. As you entered the library and turned to the Potions section, you heard familliar steps following you. Like I said, reflex. “ Becoming a stalker now, Black?” you said, not even bothering to turn around.

“How do you know it’s me?” he asked, coming from behind and leaning his head right next to yours, his arms behind his back and pretending to look at the books.

You felt his warm breath on your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “Six years of training.” you replied, glancing at him and reaching for the book.

He looked at you and smirked. “Let me.” he said just before he brushed his hand against your arm down to your hand and taking the book from the shelf. The proximity between the two of you made your heart beat faster, just as his. For a moment, the two of you were just standing there, your hands touching and your eyes looking at eachother. “ I had some training on my own.” he whispered, sending another shiver down your spine.

“What are you planning to do here Black?” you asked him, reaching for the book and pushing away his arm.

You didn’t know why you felt this mad. You told yourself you don’t have feelings for him. You knew that if you would let him kiss you right now, you would end up like Marlene. Drooling over him at class, being another trophy to him. No. You were better than that.

“Nothing big, I guess.” he replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable.Why were you rejecting him? All he wants is for you to be his and he can’t do that if you push away whenever he is close. Maybe you just don’t like him like that. ‘That’s a first’ he huffed as he thought of that.

—

“I just don’t understand. Like did she say anything? Like show any kind of angry gestures, like clenching fists or gritting teeth?” he asked Marlene, who was trying to enjoy her cereal.

“For the 100th time Sirius. She acted like she normally would. Shocked at first, but acting completly normal.” answered Marlene, adding more milk to her cereal. “You still need to give me those 10 galleons for making up this story.” she demanded offering him a hand.

As he was about to reach in his pocket his eyes suddenly went wide. “The hell?” he said outloud and stood up from his seat.

Everybody turned around to Sirius’ staring spot. “Is that (Y/N)?” asked Peter.

“With Mulciber?” continued Remus.

“What is she doing with Mulciber?” asked Lilly, looking at how you were laughing and touching Mulcibers arm.

What excatly were you doing with Mulciber? Well, let me tell you. Mulciber and you spend your whole summer together. It was not what you think. You went to Alabama for the summer, rented a small house by the lake. It was gorgeous and Mulciber was staying the house next door. He was staying with his dad, who had some bussines with MECUSA and was always out of town. You felt sorry for the guy, who always apperead to be alone, sitting on the porch and reading a book.

*flashback*

You approached the boy, who had his eyes focused on the book with the title The Catcher in the Rye. He didn’t even notice you coming, nor hear you say his name twice. He laughed as he read another line, his eyes automatically glancing up to meet your. He jumped from his chair as he noticed you standing close to him. “Bloody hell!”

“I’m sorry. I called you a few times but you didn’t answer.” you said, getting only a nodd from him. “That’s a great book you are reading there. One of my favorites to be honest.” you smiled, pointing at the book.

A small smile apperead on his lips and he relaxed. “You read it. Please tell me he leaves on the end.” he smiled and sat back down. “Come, sit.”

You didn’t expect this from Mulciber. His family is known for being Deatheaters and Mulciber bullies everyone in school. But why was he suddenly showing a completly different side of you?

“I don’t want to spoil now, would I?” you smiled, sitting down across from him. “You are Mulciber, right?”

“And you must be (Y/N). I saw you around Hogwarts.”

“You also pushed me in the lake when I was 13.”

“Yeah. Sorry about that. But on the bright side I got three weeks of detention.” he chuckled.

“That actually does make me feel better.” you smiled.

*end flasback*

Since then you became friends. Even though you knew he would probably end up like his father before him, you loved hanging out with him. You also pushed him in the lake for revenge and that was why the two of you were laughing right now. Just reminicing about one’s summer.

“I guess now we are even.” he chuckled, giving you a white package.

“Not even close. When you get attacked by a giant squid, then we will talk about being even. “ you than took the package and looked back at him. “Are these it?” you asked him.

“Yeah. You got mine?” he asked, looking at your hand you were hiding behind your back.

“Yup.” you said and gave him the green-wrapped package. “Even wrapped it in your favorite color.”

He chuckled and shook the package. “Sounds promising, but I kind of feel bad for not wrapping it in your favorite color.”

You playfully nudged him in the ribs and giggled. “Shut up. You don’t care about my favorite color.”

“You are completly right. That’s why we are friends.” he chortled before walking away.

You looked down at your package again and approached your friends, who were sitting at the Gryffindor table, staring like you just lost your mind.

“Have you lost your mind!?” yelled James, sitting and staring at you with his mouth open. “Mulciber? Really?”

“Oh come on you guys. He’s okay.” you said with uncertanty.

“He’s Mulciber!” shouted James, spitting his eggs in front of you.

“And you are spitting your eggs.” you said wiping away the eggs from your cheeks.

“So you two are a thing now?” asked Sirius, glowering at you.

“Maybe we are, maybe we are not.” you replied, putting the box in your bag and looking around again. The staring didn’t stop. Why were they making such a big deal out of it?

“Whatever.” said Sirius, leaning back and continuing to eat his toast.

—

Next morning after the Transfiguration, which you had with the Slytherins, Mulciber ran after you. You were just having a nice chat with Mary, talking about your next trip to Hogsmeade, when you felt a tap on the shoulder. You turned around and saw a tall boy with messy white hair and two different colored eyes. One was green like a jungle after a rainy day and the other was navy blue like a deep ocean water.His eyes were definetly something special. “Hello Bertie.” you teased.

“Hello my little Sherley Bean.” he replied, making you giggle.

“I see you read the book.”

“I did.” He then looked around and saw how all of your friends were staring at the two of you. Especially Black. He loathed him, but his brother was one of his friends and he promised not to hurt him. “ Do you mind !?” he asked, sending everybody an ugly glare.

“Now, now Bertie. Be nice.” you continue to tease, making him chuckle. He than backed you against the wall, one hand blocking it and smiling down at you. “That’s something new.” you smiled on the corner on your lips.

He then started playing with your tie and slowly looked up to you. “I was thinking if you would give me the honors of going to Hogsmeade with me?” he smiled, playing with your tie again.

Sirius was on the verge of ripping his head off. His blood was boiling, his fist clenched against his body and he gritted his teeth furiously. James and Remus were standing in front of him and preventing him to knock down Mulciber where he stood, while everybody waited for your answer. You glanced at them, shooing them away and they slowly backed away from you, giving you your privacy. Kind of. They just lurked around the corner.

As much as Mulciber raised your hear rate right now and you wanted to snog his face right here, right now, you couldn’t. There was no denying you and Mulciber had a lot of chemistry, but as James said. He’s Mulciber. He bullies and he does the Dark arts. He is not a good guy, not in this story. “I’m sorry, but I think we are just better off as friends.” you replied.

“As friends?” he scoffed in disbelief. “You know we have chemistry and you can’t just ignore what happened during summer.” he stared down at you. “You are my weak spot (Y/N) and you know that.”

You smiled. Of course you smiled, how can you not. You were his weak spot. That’s so adorable. But it was Mulciber. “Mulciber… We are set on two completly different paths.”

“One date?” he smiled.

You tried to push his arm away from you, but you were blocked from both sides now. “I can’t Mulciber.”

“Come on? One date and I’ll leave you alone.” he insisted.

“I said no Mulciber, now let it go.” you started to get irratated.

“Fine.” he said, backing away from you. “But like can I at least get a kiss from you? On the cheek of course. Just as friends.” he grinned.

You shook your head in disbelief and giggled.”You are unbelievable.”

“So is that a yes?” he said, tapping his index finger on his cheek and leaning towards.

You stepped on your tiptoes and put a soft kiss on his cheek. Sirius felt his heart break. Not only that he felt pain in his chest..in his whole body. That hurt him. You just kissed a Slytherin. Not just any Slytherin, Mulciber. You didn’t see him standing there, you didn’t know you hurt him this bad and you definetly didn’t know what was about to happen. Sirius stormed to the Gryffindor Common room as you said goodbye to Mulciber.

When you entered the room, everybody left, even Sirius. “Where are you guys going?” you asked with a big smile on your face.

“Away from you.” said Sirius.

“What? Why?” you asked, your smile turning into a frown. Everybody looked at eachother and left the room. It was better for you to solve this with Sirius and Sirius alone.

“It’s like you need us. Why don’t you just go back to your new boyfriend.” snarled Sirius.

“What’s your problem?” you snapped.

“You! You are my problem! You and that evil piece of trash you were talking to! Did you two have fun during your summer!” he shouted. “Seriously, Mulciber. Even thats a new low for you.”

“Unbelievable!” you scoffed. “ Are you really going to lecture me about who I hung out during the summer and who not!?!”

“I will if you shagged the worst kind of person in the entire planet! And it’s Mulciber, my biggest enemy!”

“Well at least I don’t shag every other girl I lay eyes on!”

“I didn’t sleep with Marlene!I just told her to say that so it would make you jealous!”

“What?” you asked confused, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Look.” he calmed down. “I like you, a lot. Not just a lot, but infinite. I don’t even know if that’s a word, but I love you since the day you kicked me in the knee for being an arse. I love having your attention. Just to see your smile every day, Merlin, what would I do to see it every single day for the rest of my life. It makes my day, your smile. Merlin. “ he smiled and sat down. “You just have the prettiest smile and the most amazing personality. How can I not fall in love with a person like you.”

You stood there in shock. Sirius Black? Likes you? Forreal? “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I tried to. But I just stop breathing around you and my heart wants to jump out of my chest. I just chicken out when I’m around you.”

“And you told Marlene to make up a story to make me jealous?”

“Yeah.”

“Well it worked you arsehole.” you spat out, making him shot his head up. You walked towards him, sitting on his lap and your arms around his neck. You brushed your finger from his ear, against his jaw and to his lips. He didn’t say a word and his eyes were set at your lips. You ran your fingers through his dense curly hair and pressed your lips against his. You started slow, your fingers still running through his hair. He put his hands on your waist, pulled you closer and started to deepen the kiss. It was a messy kiss, perfect in its own way. All of a sudden you broke the kiss, pushing yourself away.

“What?” he asked.

“You think we should take this somewhere else?” you gave him a cheeky smile.

“ I know just the place.”

#sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine #sirius black #sirius x reader #marauders imagine #marauders #marauders era #the marauders #james potter imagine #remus lupin imagine #mulciber

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moonysgoonies · 7 years

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Second chance (Siris Black x reader)

Request: Your last imagine was great! I wanted to know if you could write an imagine set in the order of the phoenix were the reader is an auror and she was one the few people that believed sirius was innocent (most people thought it was because they dated in highschool) and when the kids go to the ministry instead sirius dying it’s bellatrix instead? And when sirius comes back that when he decides to marry her? (if possible with young sirius instead of gary oldman thank you!) A/N: ... *throws this out of the virtual grave and goes off to take a nap*

Sirius Black was many things: troublemaker, obnoxious, frustratingly immature, unwaveringly loyal to his friends, a cheater to his lovers. He was not a murderer.

Some could say you believed this because you dated him, dated him for a respectable amount of time (an uncharacteristic feat for Black). Granted you were kids, still in your sixth year at Hogwarts and emotionally floundering. And yet.. five months and three weeks were not a fling. And even now you looked back on the relationship with fondness, despite Sirius dumping you for a bustier Ravenclaw.

They lasted three weeks, by the way, the average life span of a relationship with the infamous Sirius.

...Some could say you were still a little bitter about it, not that you would give anyone the chance to...

But anyway, you mourned the lost potential for that relationship and moved on. You assumed that any connection you had to Sirius Black had been stuck in Hogwarts.

Meanwhile, life always seems to have other ideas than what we plan.

"Come now, you look like you've seen a murderer," Sirius teased with a low rasp in his voice as he took another long swig of his drink.

His chair teetered dangerously as he leaned back with arrogant nonchalance. It was signature Black, though you couldn't stop noticing the plaguing shadows under his eyes.

You had heard The Order had a new safe house that would be used as the primary base, you barely registered the news until someone had mentioned to you that the clubhouse belonged to Sirius’ parents. When you had asked why we got to utilize the house now...

Well, it took you less than 2 minutes to apparate a block away from 10 and 14 Grimmauld. It took you less than 13 minutes to decide to walk inside.

And now you were standing in front of Sirius Black in the same home he used to be desperate to run away...

You swallowed, surprised at how tight your throat was. Consciously you relaxed your muscles, forcing yourself to walk closer to the table. You refused to show hesitation as you spoke, "The only way you could kill a person is by cooking them dinner."

Sirius fell forward, slamming the front chair legs on the floor as he laughed good and loud. His whole expression seemed to color a shade more human. “Good ole, (Y/N).” He grinned, “You haven’t changed a bit.”

Suddenly his eyes flashed in wonderment at you. Your chest ached briefly. How much did the dementors take from him? His voice was confident, “Remember that party after I won the House Cup?”

You scoffed instantly, “I believe it was Potter who made the winning shot.”

A distinct glimmer was in his eyes as he stretched his arms to rest his hands on the back of his head. “Only because I managed to get the path clear for him,” he reasoned. Classic arrogant, balloon-brained nut. Your smile grew wider.

“By trying to turn the beater bats into snakes?” You inquired, fondly remembering the faces of both Slytherin beaters.

The cheering swarm was heading back to Gryffindor tower, you followed them up near the tail end when a distressed cry turned your head. The Slytherin beaters had just dropped two curling snakes and you knew just who was responsible for it... There were actual tears in your eyes as you laughed so hard, trying to walk up the hill when out of nowhere Sirius managed to sidle up next to you. Suddenly his voice was in your ear, “See? I paid attention in Transfiguration.” Your cheeks burned at the heat of his breath against your ear.

Before you, Sirius outright beamed. “Hey, at least I didn’t do it during the game, as you know.”

Your eyebrows furrowed a bit, your smile a bit confused. “Yes, because I watched the game,” You explained plainly.

Somehow he grinned even wider. Your eyebrows narrowed.

“What?” You almost had to restrain your outcry.

“You don’t even like Quidditch games.”

Your eyes widened in realization, his eyes closed in cool triumph.

“I-It was an important game!”

“And yet you’ve gone to every game before that.”

Your cheeks flared. The arrogant buffoon was right again. Damn him. “Now you’re criticizing me for going to social events?”

His smile was devious and crooked, “And I quote, 'There are more useful things to spend time on than chasing a ball on a broom.’”

Oh. You did say that to Sirius, in your sixth year, which he surprisingly answered with a pause before laughing it off and pulling you in for a kiss. Well-

Sirius grinned wider. ...Screw him.

“I never said that,” You crossed your arms and shifted away from him slightly.

He stood up. You refused to watch him, instead opting to listen for the creak of the wooden chair being pushed back, the shifting of his clothes as he neared you. You prepared a pointed look and aimed it right at him.

He was closer than you anticipated and you shivered, entirely still as he stared deep into your eyes. Suddenly he exhaled, beaming, “It’s really good to see you.” He said it with a tenderness you didn’t know he had, a tenderness he probably didn’t have... couldn’t have before...

Your eyes softened, taking in all of him. It was like walking into a ghost story, and that didn’t just refer to the banshee screams from Sirius’ dear mother either... Seeing Sirius was quite literally unbelievable, but then again Sirius was usually unbelievable.

“You-” You whacked Sirius again! “-are-” Whack! “-bloody unbelievable!”

“Ow! Geez, woman!” Sirius flinched as your fists bellowed against his arms, his chest. He ducked his head, crying out, “Not the hair!”

“Who would’ve taken care of Harry if something were to happen to you!!” You yelled.

You were quite oblivious to the small auditorium of colleagues and Hogwarts students gathered to hear you chew out Sirius Black. The looming Veil stood just a few feet away from your argument, and it took just a perfectly timed glance at Sirius to notice that Bellatrix would’ve collided him through the gate had you not hit him with a jinx that knocked him out of death’s hands...or curtain or whatever.

Still! Seconds from death and he still had the cheek to annoy you!

“You would be an excellent godmother,” He offered weakly with an amused smile. Your eyebrow twitched from glaring so profusely. “I’m sorry,” He said, despite the smile tugging at his lips.

“No, you’re not.” You spat at him, pacing a bit in one direction. “You’re reliving your glory days and frolicking in it while Harry has to worry about your soul being sucked through the Veil-What in the witch’s cauldron are you smiling about?!”

Of all moments, Sirius finally kept his stupid, smiling trap shut. He gently walked towards you, his voice in a reasonable tone saying, “I really shouldn’t make Harry worry.”

Your cheeks burned as you agreed, “Q-quite right. He needs a responsible role model to look up to.” As Black neared you found yourself leaning away, his presence overwhelming your flow of breathing, igniting every goose bump on your skin. You struggled to stop fidgeting and look him straight in that magnetic gaze.

“I couldn’t agree more,” He said just above a whisper. “You know,” he began as he leaned his nose in so it barely brushed yours, “I really do think you’d be an excellent godmother.”

As a school girl, you often daydreamed about the day when Sirius Black would want to settle down. You imagined it so differently than right now if that moment was happening-

And now Sirius was taking your hand and bringing the knuckles to his lips so softly you couldn’t speak even if you tried.

You watched his Adam's apple as he gulped, surprised to hear his hesitating, “So, how about it?”

“How about what?” You echoed gently.

“Marrying me.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he exhaled a laugh, bringing his forehead to yours. “It was only ever you, (Y/N).”

You leaned back a touch as his nose grazed yours, causing you both to still. “Then,” you began, “why did you let me go?”

“Because I’m a moron.” His hands ran up to your shoulders, squeezing them. “James knew how I felt, even if I was too much of an idiot to accept it. I-I thought I could convince myself it wasn’t-isn’t real. As you can see, I failed quite miserably.”

“Quite stupendously,” you agreed in a far off voice. You were focusing on the glow of an almost pale blue in his piercing gray eyes.

“Someone is enjoying this too much.” He pressed his chest against yours and a smile curled on your lips as his grazed passed your cheek.

“Yes.” You agreed, a light suddenly glowing within you. You pulled your head back and stared into his eyes. The question was already in his eyes. “Yes,” you answered me. “I’ll marry you.”

An excited cry left your throat as Sirius picked you up and spun you around. You laughed as he finally set you down.

“You know what this means right?” He spoke with an almost wild ecstacy.

“What?” You mused, your eyes closed and feeling him wrap his arms around your waist.

“We get to invite that git Prescott Thompson who took you to the Yule Ball, that slimy-” Whack!

“Sirius,” You grabbed his collar and forced him to your level. “Do not ruin your proposal or it won’t be your last.”

Even as you threatened him, he didn’t even hesitate as a dopey grin spread across his features. “I love you.”

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black imagine

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