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xjustakay · 1 month

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✺ (4/5) ✺ @jegulus-microfic prompt: slap — 1,630 words (dad james and librarian regulus - flirting edition; pt.1)

It’s become a habit over the course of a couple of months.

James takes Harry to the library more than Lily does these days. It was a simple ‘the library is closer to my place anyway, no sense in going out of your way when you don’t have to, Lils’ that he’d offered as his reasoning. Of course, he knows Lily isn’t stupid. She likely sees right through him, but she’s yet to say anything or try to slap some sense into him, so he’s taking the small favor for what it is.

Harry, in all his six year old excitement to visit one of his favorite places, remains oblivious to there being any other intention to their trips to the library. And really, James is glad that he gets to do this with Harry —it’s not completely selfishly oriented that he suggests they go. Harry loves reading, loves exploring different fictional worlds on page, loves getting new books suggested or read to him when they’re there.

It’s just that, well. James is reaping some additional benefits, that’s all.

Except, they’re not exactly benefits, because while seeing Regulus is its own treat, the two of them still seem to be dancing in circles around each other. Some days James isn’t sure if he’s picking up on genuine signs or simply concocting them for himself —a story with a happy end that he’s telling himself in his head like the ones he reads to Harry before bed.

He feels a little crazy, admittedly, cataloging their interactions like it’s his job, like every little thing potentially means something. It’s like he’s got a schoolboy crush all over again at the age of twenty-seven. But if there’s one thing in this world that James Potter seems to be good at, it’s romanticizing that which may in the end mean very little.

Still, he’s got his list.

A story time in the children’s room one week where Regulus, in the middle of answering and asking questions of the kids about the book he’d read them, had stolen more than a couple glances James’ way at the back of the room. Days where grey eyes brightened upon looking away from greeting Harry to find that James was the one that brought him to the library that day. Questions about what James does for work and for fun, or what sort of thing James likes to read, followed by book recommendations.

James has also noticed, though, that every time he sees Regulus, as much as there’s something lingering there between the two of them, there’s something else, too.

Regulus always asks about Lily. Asks how she’s doing, what she’s been up to, if Harry read his most recent check-outs with her. There had even been a day where James and Harry had come up to the counter to check out Harry’s new selection of books and Regulus had pointed out that he’d held onto a book specifically for Lily, remembering she had been waiting a while for it to be available.

And sure, maybe it’s just that Regulus met Lily first, that he’s nice and is considering Harry’s mum even when she’s not there, but… Just as he’s over-thought every one of their own interactions, James can’t seem to help overthinking this, as well.

In a rather rare turn of events, James is at the library today without Harry. Harry’s at his mum’s, but he’d left his books at James’ place. A borderline distraught phone call had been received that morning, Harry lamenting ‘I can’t have overdue books, dad! I’ve never had overdue books!’ Lily doesn’t have time today to come pick them up and bring Harry to take care of them, so James had promised to turn them in for him.

It works out perfectly that when he enters with the few books tucked under his arm and approaches the front desk, Regulus is the one sitting there. One person is in line in front of James, but he notices how Regulus clocks him walk up behind the woman, an unhelped twitch at the corner of his mouth. He says a polite thank you and wishes a good day to her before it’s James’ turn.

Regulus tilts forward to peek over the edge of the high desk, his brow creasing. “Where is he?”

James lets out a quiet laugh. “So sorry that I’m not enough for you, Regulus.”

“Oh, shut up.” He rolls his eyes but James doesn’t miss the pretty pink color his cheeks turn even as he tries to distract from it by wiggling his fingers for the books James holds. “You just don’t usually come alone, that’s all.”

James hands over the books, his grin inching wider. “I can come alone more often if you want me to. Just say the word.”

Regulus huffs an unsteady laugh, cheeks reddening even more. He won’t meet James’ eye as he starts scanning book barcodes and entering return dates. It’s quiet for a few long moments, Regulus doing his job and avoiding James’ gaze while James continues watching him in fond amusement.

After the pause has gone on for a bit, Regulus ends up asking, “Is Lily no longer going to be bringing Harry in?”

Ah, there it is.

James sucks his teeth and shakes his head. “No, I’m sure she’ll be around again. She’s just—been a bit busy with work and such.”

“I see.” Regulus nods, glancing up from scanning a barcode to flicker his gaze over where James stands. “Well, at least Harry’s got you to bring him, right?”

“Right.” It comes out shorter than he meant it to, and Regulus notices if the arch of one dark brow is anything to go by. He doesn’t know why he says it, doesn’t know why the thought even crosses his mind, but before he can stop himself, James offers, “I can give you her number, if you’d like?”

Regulus slows in setting the returned books aside. “Why would I need Lily’s number?”

“I just—assumed you were interested.” James shifts from one foot to the other.

A comically confused expression twists up Regulus’ features. “In Lily?”

James blinks. “Um, yes?”

“You think I’m interested in Lily?” Regulus repeats; he looks less confused now, more as if he’s barely containing his own laughter.

“Well, you ask about her all the time!” James points out, a touch too loud —there’s a quiet shushing in warning from another librarian further down the desk that earns an apologetic look from him.

“James.” Regulus can’t seem to help laughing this time, has to press a hand over his mouth for a moment, eyes pinching closed and head shaking as he collects himself. When he’s done so, he clasps his hands together on the desk in front of him and meets James’ eye evenly. “Did you ever think, maybe, the reason I ask about what Lily’s up to and if she’ll be coming around again is because when she doesn’t, it means that you do?”

It’s James’ turn to look confused, a disbelieving huff coming out of his mouth. “And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, just tell me that you like seeing me?”

“I could have, I suppose.” Regulus leans back in his swivel chair, arms crossing over his chest. The corner of his mouth ticks upward, eyes shining with mirth. “But you were already being so painfully obvious, I thought at least one of us should be a little more subtle.”

James manages to make an affronted noise, but it’s almost more startled laugh than actual offense. “You’re fucking with me right now.”

“Language, mister Potter.” (James is decidedly not blushing at the joking admonishment, thank you.) “This is a family friendly establishment.”

He lifts his hands in mock surrender, grin stretching wide across his face. Regulus eyes him for a moment, drumming his fingers against the bend of one elbow.

“Well, now that we’ve cleared that up—”

“Have we?” James snorts.

“I’m not interested in Lily, you’ve been hopelessly interested in me from day one. I think we’re clear,” Regulus confirms.

Hazel eyes narrow in playful challenge. “You’re just as interested in me, too, don’t forget that.”

An absent hum. A tilt of his head. “And what are you going to do about it?”

It’s an excellent question, James wasn’t prepared to get this far today. He wasn’t totally positive he’d ever get this far, if he’s honest. Now that opportunity has arisen, however, he’s not foolish enough to waste it.

“What are you doing Saturday night?” He asks, leaning his forearms against the edge of the desk.

“I don’t know. Where are you taking me?” Regulus quips, dark brows lifting.

“I think I’ll keep it a surprise. Can’t be too obvious now, can I?” James toys.

Rolling his lips together barely hides Regulus’ growing smile. He hums once again, nodding in agreement. James thinks that’s it, that they’ll say goodbyes for now and go the next few days in building anticipation for an awaiting first date. Except, Regulus holds up a finger to tell him to wait and wordlessly slides off his chair to go to one of the shelves behind him used for reserved books.

When he turns back around, he drops another of the Magic Treehouse books Harry’s been so invested in as of late onto the counter with a quiet slap. James glances at it then at Regulus again with an incredulous smile.

“It’s the next one in the series for Harry. We only have one copy on hand. I didn’t want him to not be able to get it when he brought his returns in,” Regulus explains.

“No wonder he likes you so much, you spoil him,” James teases.

Regulus smirks and, without missing a beat, he replies, “And what’s your excuse?”

#jegulus #jegulus microfic #andddd part 2 the end -jazz hands-#little shit regulus my beloved #have i mentioned that i love them?#kay’s microfics #kay’s writing

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metallicamunson · 7 months

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Boyfriend(James Potter x FemReader)

Hi everyone, I finally finished this fic after months of starting it. It’s not my best work but it’s not too shabby considering I haven’t written in a while. Hope you guys enjoy this song inspired fic 🥲🤍

Word Count: 3,099

Warnings: Angst to Fluff, some cursing.

Summary: One where you and James find your way back to each other

——-

If there is one thing you and James are good at, it’s getting under one another’s skin.

It didn’t matter that your relationship ended in your seventh year at Hogwarts. Having the same friend group means seeing each other constantly. Not to mention, the breakup was a mutual decision, deeming that it would be best to be friends while you both figured out what came after school.

Looking back, you can’t help but feel it was a stupid decision. A brash agreement made by two teenagers in love, scared to take the next step in their relationship.

You very much still love James Potter.

And James Potter is still very much in love with you.

Although- neither of you knows it.

Meanwhile, your friends watch from the sidelines, waiting for either of you to make the first move to rekindle your romance.

DATE ONE (James)

It all started when the marauders invited the whole group for brunch. They all sat around the table on the balcony of their home, enjoying fluffy waffles with various fruits spread over the table. You couldn’t help but sneak glances toward James; he looked good. The white T-shirt he wore- accentuated his muscular arms, and his waist in those trousers was a look to die for.

You bit your lip in embarrassment when you caught Remus’ gaze; his eyebrows raised and a knowing smirk on his lips. You shook your head, taking a long sip of your champagne.

“Word on the street is that Prongs got himself a date tonight,” Sirius says, nudging James in the ribs with an elbow.

Now that- caught the attention of everyone, especially yours. Your eyes met with James’ who looked like a deer caught in headlights. He let out an awkward cough, twisting the ring on his middle finger.

“Uh- yeah, it’s a girl I met the other day at a coffee shop.”

It suddenly felt like your intestines were twisting into knots as jealousy consumed your now racing heart.

“That’s great, James,” Marlene smiles; she can’t help but look over at you. “What's her name?”

“Hannah, but it’s nothing serious,” he quickly adds, “it might not even go anywhere.”

“Well, you better bloody make sure she has a good time- she’s fine as f-, ow what the hell!” Sirius glares at Lilly, who just kicked him under the table.

“Okay- enough talk about James’ lov-”

“I’m happy for you; I hope you have a splendid time with what’s her face,” you chirp, lips settling into a tight smile. “Maybe this time around, you’ll get the first date right.”

Now that stung, you always assured James that you loved your first date despite the minor- okay, major hic-ups along the way. Truth be told you- love it; you found him adorable when he attempted to fix everything. He thought you’d never want to see him again, but imagine his surprise when you kissed him at the end of your date.

“Her name is Hanna- Lilly; stop doing that!” Sirius exclaims, kicking her back.

“I know you did not just kick me, Sirius Black!” Lilly says, throwing a grape in his direction.

“Will you two stop acting like children,” Remus sighs, “now let's all take a deep breath-”

“You know what, I will have a great time with Hannah! I might take her to that little Italian restaurant with the good breadsticks!” James says, shooting a terse smile your way.

That’s yours and James’ place. The place you both first said, ‘I love you.’

“Sounds like a lovely idea.” You scoot your chair back, throwing your napkin on your plate. “You know what, I forgot I have an errand to run. Thank you for brunch, boys. Bye, everyone.”

You take your bag from the handle of your chair, exiting through the sliding door.

James groans, leaning his forehead against his fist with his eyes closed.

Later that night

“You know what, I’m happy for him. I’m sure he and Helen will make a great couple,” you murmur, pacing back and forth.

“Hannah.” Marlene corrects before shrinking back when you raise your eyebrow at her.

“(Y/n) Why won’t you admit it; you still love him!” Lilly sighs, sitting up from her spot on your bed.

“Me? Lilly, please, we both agreed our breakup was for the best. I’m fine with it.”

“Your eye twitched when you said that.” Marlene laughed.

“It did not,” you lift your hand to your eye. You lay down between the two girls, staring at the ceiling of your room. “Okay, maybe it hurt a little when he said he was taking her to our spot.”

“Oh, sweetie, I’m sure he wouldn’t do that to you,” Marlene says with a sympathetic smile.

“I don’t even know why I care; we broke up almost a year ago. One of us dating was bound to happen.”

—

It turns out Hannah was someone who liked to move fast. James couldn’t have made a faster excuse to leave when she mentioned what names he’d want for their baby.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t feel ecstatic when Remus told you.

DATE ONE (Y/n)

“I’m sorry, I could have sworn I heard you say (Y/n) has a date with Caleb.” James laughs, walking into the kitchen where Remus and Sirius sit around the island. “You know the number of times he put the moves on her when we were dating; he should give it up.”

“Erm Prongs, I did say exactly that,” Remus chuckles nervously.

James stood still, the fridge wide open; his mind went completely blank for a few seconds. His grip on the handle tightened, grabbing the milk before slamming the fridge door shut.

“Are you okay, mate? I know this is the first date she’s been on since you two broke up.” Sirius slides a bowl across the island towards James.

“I’m fine. (Y/n) doesn’t owe me anything.” He shakes the cereal aggressively into his bowl. “I’m happy for her.”

Remus and Sirius share a look; they know for a fact that he is not okay.

A few days later

You knocked on the door of the marauders, your other hand holding a basket of pastries you made for them. A few seconds later, the door opens.

“Oh, hey.” James smiles, moving to the side to let you in.

You nod your head as a greeting, handing him the basket. “I thought I’d drop these off- Remus has been nagging me to make him my ‘famous brownies.’ I um- also made a few scones in there, or whatever,” you mumble.

You made scones, his favorite. He can’t help but grin; why does his heart feel like it is about to beat out of his chest?

“I smell brownies!” Remus runs down the spiral stairs, snatching the basket from James and rummaging through it. “Why are two just standing there- we have a couch, you know?”

James rolls his eyes, gesturing for you to move into the living room. “How did you smell brownies- your room is at the end of the hall upstairs.”

“You seem to forget about my werewolf capabilities.” Remus points out, moaning when he takes a bite of the brownie. “How’d your date go?”

James visibly tenses, staring at the side of your face. You shift in your seat, picking at your nails. “It went well. He treated me well, paid for dinner, and made me laugh.”

Remus nods in approval, though he can’t help but feel he jumped the bullet, bringing it up with James in the room.

James felt himself spiraling. What he said next wasn’t his finest moment.

“It seems kind of desperate going out with a guy who follows you around like a puppy.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, James,” your head snaps in his direction, a frown now evident on your face.

“I don’t know; I just think he’s a loser- anyone who goes out with him must not have very high standards.”

Your eyes brim with tears, so this is what he thought of you. “You know what, fuck you, James Potter,” you scoff, “I’ll have you know he is not a loser- he's a gentleman!”

“He’s creepy (Y/n); the man borderline stalks you!” James laughs in disbelief.

“You know what, I don’t have to listen to this!” You exclaim, flinging a pillow in his direction. You turn to Remus, “I’ll call you later tonight- I can’t be around,” you gesture with your hands towards James, “him.”

You stomp your way out of their house, slamming the door shut.

“That was a dick move,” Remus says, taking another brownie from the basket.

“I’m looking after her!” James sighs, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re in love with her and got jealous,” he looks over at James.

“What! No! Pshh, our breakup was mutual, remember?”

“Uh-hm, sure, keeping living in denial, prongs.” Remus takes the basket from the coffee table, heading towards the stairs.

“She brought those for all of us, you know!” James shouts from his spot on the couch. He rolls his eyes with a small smile when he hears Remus running up the stairs.

—

James was right. But you’d run around naked in negative-degree weather before admitting that- out loud.

DATE TWO (James)

You found out about his second date through Marlene this time around. It was some girl he ran into at the gym. According to Marlene, she was the one to ask him out, which intrigued James.

You were okay with it. Totally completely fine.

“Do you know where they’re going?” You say, trying to sound nonchalant, flipping through the channels of Marlene’s TV.

“Sirius said they were going bowling.”

“Cool.”

You throw the remote beside you, your mind not focusing on anything but James. Ever since you went on your date with Caleb, the bickering between the both of you only intensified. The two of you could not be in the same room with each other without one or the other making a snide remark.

“Are you okay?”

“Mmhm, he’s a single man; he can do what he wants,” you murmur, tugging the blanket under your chin.

—

“So how’s it going between gym girl and James?” you murmur, sectioning Sirius’ hair in half to start braiding two braids.

“I don’t know, he hasn’t talked about it much,” he shrugs.

You frown; this could mean one of two things. They either hit it off and are keeping their relationship a secret. Or it went so bad that James refuses to speak about it.

“Ow! I would still like to have my hair intact after this love.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot on my mind,” you chuckle nervously, scratching his scalp softly.

“He talks about you a lot, you know.”

Sirius glances up at you, a knowing look in his eyes.

“I- we can’t stand each other. We can’t even have a normal conversation before an argument starts.”

“(Y/n), I love you, so when I say this, it’s with all the love in the world- you and James need to get your heads out of your arses and talk about it.”

—

You stand before the boys’ apartment; you raise your knuckles towards the door before pulling back. You’ve been standing here for five minutes- trying to find the courage to speak to your ex-lover. Do you still love him? Of course- you do. Why else would it hurt so much when he goes on these dates? What if he tells you he doesn’t want the same?

You shake your head, taking a deep breath before knocking on the wooden door. You rock on your heels, biting your lip nervously.

The door opens, revealing a woman who is the definition of a Vogue magazine model. She has straight blond hair, she definitely seems like she works out, and the band tee she wears- wait a minute.

Your breath hitches once you recognize it; you’ve worn that shirt one too many times after spending the night with James. You can feel the lump in your throat start to form.

“Hey, are you okay?” The blond asks, worry laced in her tone.

“Oh! Sorry, I got the wrong apartment,” you smile tightly, turning to walk away.

Yeah, James Potter definitely moved on, you thought.

DATE TWO (Y/N)

“He’s a good guy! Come on (Y/n), let me set this up!”

“I don’t know if I’m ready for another date- Lils, the last one was a total disaster,” you murmur.

“To be fair, we did warn you that Caleb wasn’t a good idea- plus it’s been five months,” Lilly hums, poking your cheek.

You bat her hand away, sending a playful glare her way, “Fine.”

“You won’t regret it! I promise Mason is worth it!” Lilly squeals, clapping her hands together.”

—

Lilly was right- he’s perfect.

Mason Moriarty has a great job at the ministry that pays him a hefty number of galleons. His smile is one that would make all the girls swoon. He’s the kind of guy who holds the door and respects women.

He made you laugh and paid attention to what you were saying. Mason Moriarty was respectful and made you feel comfortable.

One date turned into two, and two turned into three.

He was perfect- so what was that nagging feeling in your heart?

—

Word spreads fast in the friend group. So it came as no surprise that James got word about you and Mason.

“Who even is that guy- he seems like a tosser,” James grunts, bringing his beer can to his lips. “I mean, she can do so much better!”

Sirius rolls his eyes, putting his book down. He couldn’t get any reading done with James’ constant outbursts.

“He’s a cool dude, he treats our (Y/n/n) well.” Sirius reaches over the coffee table to get himself a can. “At least pretend to be happy for her.”

“I can be happy for her! I just think he isn’t the one for her! The guy’s last name is Moriarty, (Y/n) Moriarty, sounds stupid!” James groans, throwing his head back on the couch.

“Enlighten me then, James- who should she be with then,” Sirius quirks an eyebrow.

“I don’t-” James sighs in frustration, “(Y/n) deserves someone who will love her unconditionally, someone who will cut the crust of her sandwich because she hates the texture. She needs someone who will hold her hand when she sees a pigeon because; for some odd reason, she finds them terrifying. It needs to be someone who will run to the nearest pharmacy to grab medicine when she’s sick because god knows she won’t go to the doctor’s office.” James rants, pulling at his hair.

“And Mason can’t do that?” Sirius pushes, a smirk forming on his lips, one he tries to hide with his hands.

That was the final straw.

“No Padfoot! Moriarty can never love her the way that I do!” James blurts out, throwing his empty can on the floor.

James’ eyes widen in realization, mouth opening, and closing with no words.

“Bingo! What are you going to do about it, Potter?”

“Nothing, there’s no way she still feels the same.”

“Wrong,” Remus waltzed into the room, sitting next to James, “You two are so in love with each other it’s sickening.”

James shakes his head in confusion, his heart racing at the possibility.

“I mean, for fucks sake, Prongs, are you blind?”

“I’m an idiot,” James groans, running his hands down his face. “Fuck, what if I’m too late.”

“I heard from a little birdy, that she cut it off with Mason.” Remus hums, a smile tugging on his lips.

James practically jumps up from his spot, an unsure look on his face.

“Go get your girl James.”

The Reconciliation

You squint your eyes, slipping on your slippers, the constant knocking on your door waking you from your slumber. You pause at the threshold of your bedroom, taking a vase from your desk. Warily, you look into the peephole of your door, sighing in relief when you see James. You open the door, a million thoughts running through your head.

“James, what- it’s two in the morning; what are you doing here?”

“I’m still in love with you,” James rushes out before he chickens out.

Your eyes widen, lips parting, “What-”

“I know this is coming out of nowhere, but I need you to know how I feel. I know it’s selfish, and Mason is in the picture- or not, I don’t know, Remus said he wasn’t. Anyway- I don’t think you ever left my mind (Y/n) from the day we broke up. I felt this void within me. The dates I went on felt wrong- it felt like somehow I was betraying you,” He chuckles breathly. “And when I found out you were starting to date, I was jealous- god that sounds immature. The point is, I thought our breakup was for the best- but (Y/n) I think I was just scared that I was falling more in love with you. I still love you, and I don’t know if I’m making a fool- out of myself- but I know I had to try and fight for you.”

“James-” you whisper, your lower lip trembling, tears welling in your eyes, “I love you.” You wrap your arms around his neck, careful with the vase in your hand. “I missed you so much, I know we were never really apart, yet you felt so far away.”

“Yeah, I know the feeling,” James laughs, his arms find home around your waist.

“We’re fools,” You giggle, “We should have never broken up, I was only kidding myself by thinking I would ever get over you, Jamie.”

“Yeah well, I’m never letting you go now you're stuck with me, sweetheart.” He grins.

“Wouldn’t want it any other way, Potter,” You hum, placing a gentle kiss on his jaw.

“Not to ruin the moment- but why are you holding a vase?”

You smile sheepishly, “I thought you were some kind of thief.”

“I am- a thief who stole your heart,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“You are so cheesy,” you laugh, tugging him into your apartment and closing the door behind you. You place the vase on a nearby table before turning to face James again.

“You love it.”

“Yeah, I do- now come over here and kiss me.” You grin, rocking on your heels.

He beams, placing his hands on each side of your face, pressing his lips against yours.

Mission Accomplished

Fin

——-

#james potter x reader #james potter fluff #james potter #james potter angst #mauraders #harry potter #James #james potter x y/n #james potter x fem!reader #mauraders era

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entitled-fangirl · 16 days

Text

I hope I do.

Barty Crouch Jr. x Potter!reader

Summary: The reader wants Barty to meet her parents. He could not be more worried.

Warnings: cursing. Daddy Crouch issues.

A/N: This was based on an ask!

Masterlist

................................................

"I think you're overthinking this." Y/N stated.

Barty Crouch Jr. had been dating the beloved sister of one James Potter for over a year.

Although she had been placed in Slytherin, nothing had changed in her family dynamic between her parents and brother.

Sirius and Regulus found themselves a little jealous.

Y/N reached out and grabbed Barty's hand from across the Slytherin table of the Great Hall. "Trust me on this."

Barty took a breath. "But I'm no angel, darling."

She leaned back with a small laugh, "They'll like you because I like you."

He nodded, but his mind was far from eased.

…

Regulus sat at the foot of his bed while half-listening to Barty's rant.

"I mean, her friends? Sure. Her brother? Yeah. But her parents? Parents… they're…" he paused his pacing in thought.

"Hard to please?" Regulus finished.

"Yes! Hard to please." He continued his stride back and forth. "The stress of pleasing your own parents is more than enough. But the parents of your future wife?"

Regulus' eyebrows furrowed, "Maybe don't start your introduction by saying she's your future wife."

Barty sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "You're right. You're always right. But, do you get what I'm saying?"

The youngest Black sibling nodded his head, "Especially if they're anything like James. Bloody annoying and brass."

Barty's eyes widened, "I didn't even think of that. Surely they're not horrible if Sirius is over there constantly."

Regulus shrugged, "He's just as thick headed as Potter."

The two laughed as his clever quip.

The laughter settled and the two were left in sudden serious silence.

"It's just," Barty sighed. "I already know I'm not good enough, especially for her. Blimey, she could have anyone in the world, and I was fortunate enough to be chosen. I already see that, Regulus. I can't take her father reminding me."

Regulus quit fiddling with his tie to look up at him, "That's what this is about? You're going in thinking they've already made up their mind about you?"

"It's Fleamont Fucking Potter! How could he not?"

A long sigh left Regulus' mouth as he stood up to get ready for bed. "You look the Dark Lord in the eyes every meeting, and you're scared of the Potters? J…Just talk to your girlfriend. I'm not qualified enough for this shit."

Barty didn't get much sleep that night.

…

"Stop messing with your jacket. You look fine." Y/N reprimanded as she fixed his jacket.

Barty's eyes were wide as saucers and his breath was shallow.

Y/N thought it was kind of cute.

"Is there… is there anything I need to know?" He asked quickly.

"Anything… what?" She asked confused.

"Any weird rules around the house? Any traditions? Anything I could do wrong?"

Y/N's eyes looked at him like he had two heads, "No."

"I mean that seriously, love. Any topics off the table? Does someone have a wonky eye I shouldn't stare at? You have to give me somethi-"

"Barty!" She laughed out. Her hands rested on his chest. "Take a deep breath. My parents will love you, alright?"

Regulus had a point. How could he look at Voldemort and feel nothing, yet two middle aged parents had him running for the hills?

"Are you ready?" She asked.

He nodded as he took a handful of floo powder. "I'm ready."

As he threw the powder down, the two disappeared in flames.

Their bodies appeared in the fireplace of the Potter Manor.

James was seated on the large sectional, and his heads snapped up at the sight. He smiled, "There you are. I was worried you two were too busy snogging to join us."

She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes, "Do you ever mind your own business?"

He shrugged, "No, not really."

"Where's mum and dad?"

He pointed his head over towards the kitchen.

Y/N grabbed Barty's hand and pulled him to the kitchen.

As they rounded the corner, Barty finally saw the faces with traits his beloved girlfriend had inherited.

And wow, was it now obvious to him how well the two Potter siblings resembled their parents.

"Mum. Dad."

The two fully turned and their faces lit up. Euphemia grinned and quickly walked to her, "Oh, hi, sweetheart!"

Barty wasn't used to such excitement when your own kids walks into a room.

Euphemia embraced Y/N tightly before pulling away to look at Barty.

Fleamont had leaned against the counter happily watching the exchange before his eyes too, found the boy.

Y/N turned, "This is Barty. Um… Mr. Crouch's son."

Fleamont's eyebrows raised at the mention of Crouch.

Barty felt like he could puke.

Here it comes.

"Oh. I see. Lovely to meet you, Barty."

Barty was so lost in his own mind that he barely registered the outstretched hand of Fleamont Potter. He blinked and reached out to shake it. "The… The pleasure is mine, sir."

Fleamont let out a small laugh, "Please. Just Fleamont is fine. I hate formalities."

Y/N turned to Barty, "That's where James gets it from, if you couldn't tell."

This actually made Barty let out a small chuckle.

Euphemia found her place next to Fleamont. "Our girl has said so much about you. I feel like we know you already."

That's weird, Barty thought. I don't feel scolded at all, yet.

Perhaps it would happen later.

…

Barty pulled out the chair for Y/N, who let out a small thank you, before he found his place next to her.

Though the table was large, he didn't feel intimidated as he sat there.

It was a nice change.

Fleamont sat at the head with Euphemia at the foot. Barty and Y/N sat together on one side, and James on the other.

Fleamont broke the silence, "Where's Sirius?"

James shrugged, "Washroom, I think."

Y/N's head shot up, "I didn't know Siri was here."

Fleamont grinned, "Oh yeah. You said the boys are coming over later, didn't you?"

James' grin matched his father's, "After supper, yes. We wouldn't miss watching the Quidditch Cup for anything."

Y/N sighed at turned to Barty, "It's just them yelling for four hours. Except poor Remus."

"Hey, Remus is fine." James butted in. "We feed him. He's not mistreated."

Y/N smirked, "Sure. That's what he tells you."

James cocked his head, "Oh really? And what? He tells you things?"

Y/N matched his energy, "Unlike you, he talks about his feelings."

Although there was bickering, no one raised their voice.

In fact, they seemed to be having fun.

Barty was slightly confused.

His eyes flicked back and forth, once moving to their parents.

The two rolled their eyes but held the widest grins on their faces.

They actually… could bicker for fun?

Sirius strutted in, "Sorry, Mum. Didn't mean to be late."

Euphemia smiled, "You're just fine, love."

Barty's eyes widened. Mum? He called her Mum?

His thoughts were interrupted by the continued argument.

"Remus doesn't have feelings!" James rebutted with a knowing grin.

"See? Now you just sound ridiculous!" Y/N laughed.

Sirius found his way in, "Hey! Remus is a ball of steel that lives off of sheer spite. Don't let him fool you!"

Y/N scoffed, "He's the most sensitive of all of yo-"

The two boys began to rebuttal at the same time, causing their voices to overlap.

"No, that's not true"

"Remus is heartless"

"You don't know him like we do"

"He's playing you for a fool"

Barty let out a small cough, and the entire table went quiet.

Sirius finally acknowledged his presence, "And why are you here, exactly?"

It wasn't rude. More, inquisitive.

But Barty took it the wrong way.

His head cocked to the side challengingly, "What am I doing here? What are you doing here? What? Was James allowed to bring his boyfriend, too?"

His eyes grew wide and his mouth closed as soon as the last syllable was uttered, like he didn't know who said that.

He ruined everything.

How could he ever show his face around her family again?

As he began to spiral, Sirius' mouth slowly formed a grin.

And he laughed.

The entire table broke out into a fit of giggles.

Even Euphemia covered her mouth to hold back.

James laughed until he thought he would fall out of his chair.

Fleamont's laugh came out in a boom, much like James'.

And Barty sat there in confusion.

He just couldn't comprehend what was happening.

Sirius wiped the tears that had fallen in his laughter and sighed, "I'll fucking give that one to you, Crouch. Merlin, you're much funnier than I thought."

And cursing was allowed?

There really were rules Y/N should have told him.

…

After dinner, the family was gathered around the muggle TV James had begged them to buy. Of course, it was enchanted to play the quidditch games.

Fleamont and Euphemia had their respective chairs.

All four marauders took up half of the large sectional and Barty and Y/N spread out on the other half.

Well, Y/N had.

Barty was uncomfortably stiff in his seat, but Y/N had taken the liberty to rest her head on his lap, and lay out on the rest of the couch.

And no one had thought twice about it.

Eventually, her legs grew tired and she sat up, "I'm going to fetch a drink. Need anything, Barty?"

He looked away from the TV to her, "No. No, thank you."

She nodded, brushing her hand across his shoulders when she passed by.

She had left him alone with them.

What does he do? What does he say?

He's in the Potter Manor with all four of the marauders and the Potters. By. Him. Self.

He let out a sigh.

"Everything alright, son?" Fleamont asked.

Barty's head snapped to him. Son?

Did he just say Son?

Oh, fuck. He said Son.

He just stared.

James reached over and elbowed him.

Barty snapped out of it. "Hmm?"

"He asked if you are alright, mate?"

"Oh. Oh. I'm just fine. Long day, is all."

Fleamont nodded with an understanding smile and turned back to the TV.

Barty was too lost in his thoughts to hear them cheering at the next goal.

…

Y/N smiled widely as she sat on her bed, "Well, I'd say that went fairly well."

"I don't want to do it anymore."

Her face fell, "What? Do what?"

Barty's mind was racing as he stood barely out of the doorway. "I can't do it."

She tilted her head, "Barty. Talk to me. What?"

His eyes were staring out of the window across her bedroom, "I don't want to be a death eater anymore."

Her eyebrows raised, "Oh." She wasn't sure what to do in that moment. She wouldn't push him. It was his decision, but she was too curious for her own good. "Can I know why?"

"Your father likes me."

She nodded in confusion, "He does."

"That's why."

"You… You don't want to be a death eater because my father likes you?"

He nodded as if it was obvious.

"Okay. Um… a follow up on that?"

Barty broke from his trance to sit on the bed next to her. "My… my father isn't like that. I'm always underachieving in his mind. But… I feel like I couldn't disappoint your father."

She shrugs, "It would be pretty hard to."

Barty's jaw clenches in thought, "If we ended up even close to as happy as your parents, I'd be the luckiest man in the world."

Now it was her turn to be lost in thought. "Really?"

He nodded. "Your parents love each other. And they love you. And James. And even James' friends for some reason. I want that."

She smiled and ran a hand through his hair, "Then we'll have it."

He smiled too and gently kissed her.

She pulled away with a laugh, "Regulus is going to be upset."

He pulled her closer with a grin, "Ah, he'll be fine."

Their lips connected again.

…

"Going so soon?" Fleamont asked.

"Oh, yes. He has to be up early tomorrow, dad." Y/N said with a smile as she walked Barty to the fireplace.

Fleamont nodded and walked to them, "I'm glad you could come over, son. I hope I get to see you around more."

Barty smiled widely, "yes, sir- uh… yeah. I believe you will."

Her father's smiles widened, "Great." And he disappeared into the kitchen.

Y/N had to practically push Barty into the fireplace cause he was so lost in thought. She placed a hand on his shoulder, "I'll see you Thursday?"

He nodded, "Of course."

She grinned and stood on her tiptoes to place a light kiss to his lips. "I'll wait until then."

He smiled, "Goodnight, love."

James' head peered around the corner with a teasing grin and a dramatic tone, "Goodnight, darling. My one true love! I wait in agony until I see your face again-"

He was interrupted by Remus' hand yanking him back into the kitchen.

Y/N let out a sigh. "You'll get used to that one day."

Barty smiled, "I hope I do."

…........................................................

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singulxarity · 2 months

Text

Jegulus microfic - Day 11 - Couch

@jegulus-microfic

Word count : 327

When Regulus ran away to the Potter's at the ripe age of 16, he didn't exactly feel right at home. He knew he was welcome and he knew he was definitely not hated, however, with the glaring red armchairs and red and gold decorations, he also knew that he was an eyesore.

Whether it be wearing green plaid pyjamas instead of red or showering at 8 30 exactly each and every day, he knew he stuck out sort of like a sore thumb.

He tried not to think too much of it but when Euphemia Potter's gold ringed hand would be placed up on his own silver clad one, he would feel a jarring sense of alienation.

Unintended, of course.

But still.

So imagine his surprise when he comes down the stairs on Christmas morning to see a dark, velvety green couch placed in the middle of the drawing room.

Euphemia Potter beams at him, hair already a flyaway mess due to the morning's bustle.

“Do you like it love? We got on sale last week and it goes perfectly with Christmas!”

He knows this has nothing to do with Christmas, but yet, his heart soars and he cannot for the life of him, keep the grin off his face.

“It's very nice Mrs Potter”

And it really is.

Honestly.

So Regulus opens his Christmas present on that couch with Sirius and Fleamont Potter on each side of him.

And when Regulus’ birthday arrives, he blows out his candles on that very couch.

When Regulus’ parents pass away, he sits on that couch, crying into Sirius’ arms for a reason he can't really identify.

And when James and Regulus are left alone at home, they watch a movie and share popcorn and their first kiss on the green couch.

Years later, when Regulus and James move into their very own flat, a green couch sits in the living room, where the two share stories, secrets and kisses.

#jegulus fic #marauders #regulus black #james potter #jegulus #marauders era #starchaser fic #starchaser #sunseeker #jegulus microfic #james x regulus #the marauders

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enbysiriusblack · 2 months

Text

thinking about middle aged james again and his silly aprons and tiny shorts and household of kids and his drama with the other neighbourhood mums and him always getting flirted with when picking the kids up from school or clubs

#he's always chatting to sirius on the landline for hours whilst in the kitchen cooking #james potter #marauders era #marauders #middle aged james potter

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padfootastic · 11 months

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(modern) prongsfoot!!!

hello! so, this is a multi chapter fic i was really excited about a while ago (started it, got to a few thousand works and then it fizzled out lol the basic premise is this:

muggle AU with single dad James and model Sirius who’s fed up of his ~meaningless life (feeling some…ennui, if u will) and ends up taking off to like. a seaside city where he runs into harry and then, james. it was such a fun premise because A. i was writing it to ‘have we met before’ which is the perfect j/s song, B. i wanted it to be low pressure and chill, a simple meet cute romance type situation.

there’s also aunt cassiopeia who sirius is temporarily living with and she’s like this. ‘spinster’ who’s cut off from her family, has a pet cheetah she rescued one time, and has three blades on her at all times. a Character. i love her. she loves james. tries to match make. sirius is so baffled?? because aunty cassie doesn’t like anyone??

this is what my notes look like for this fic

i have. clearly. put an unnecessary amount of thought into it lol

#sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #dude i did so much research for this #looked up the entire geography of uk to find a suitable place lol #ended up coming to cornwall for a number of reasons #and sirius is in london #looked up ticket prices and all too 💀#it’s all in my notes #i’ve even got a character sheet on g docs haha #there’s also sirius and lily friendship!!#and so many harry-james moments #(kinda want to genderbend harry bc i’m a sucker for daddy daughter dynamics but i haven’t decided yet)#so far it’s just a gender neutral harry lol #did i mention james is like a. yoga/gym instructor for those rich ladies #and he has a lot of middle aged contacts #who all love him #and especially adore harry #and that’s how sirius and james meet the first time—he walks in on j teaching cassie and is like. what.#i’ve got so much lore for this story lol #gonna stop here #thanks for the ask!#pen’s writing #pen’s asks

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lixzey · 6 months

Text

must be love

“Over here, Jamie!!” You called after James, beckoning him over as you pointed to the broom closet behind you. The two of you were running away from a crime scene—you and James had just made Snape’s food blow up in his face in the Great Hall. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing at the sight of gravy and mash dripping all over his greasy hair while James sniggered beside you. In turn, you and James got caught by a livid Severus Snape—chasing the two of you out of the Great Hall.

As you reached the broom closet, you quickly dove inside and pulled James in after you, slamming the door shut just as Snape stormed past, missing your hiding spot by inches. You both collapsed against the wall, trying to catch your breath and stifle your laughter.

“Wow, that was close.” James said, trying to stifle his laughter.

“Totally worth it though.” You chuckled, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

“That was brilliant!” James grinned. “You, my darling best friend, are brilliant!”

“I know, I know.” You laughed, curtsying.

You and James have been friends since the two of you were six. He meant the absolute world to you ever since he saved you from playground bullies.

You had been happily swinging alone in the neighborhood playground when a group of older boys approached you and started teasing you, their taunts ringing in your ears.

“Look at the buck-toothed beaver!” One of the boys jeered, pointing and laughing at your crooked teeth. They kept on teasing you, making mean faces, and calling you all sorts of names, like carrot muncher and bunny rabbit.

You covered your mouth as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. Just as you were about to give up and go home, you felt a pair of hands grip your shoulders from behind. You jumped, startled, and turned around to see who it was. Standing before you was a boy your age, with messy black hair that stuck weirdly in every different direction and bright hazel eyes under round spectacles.

“Oi, leave her alone, you lot!” He shouted, his voice echoing through the park. "Go on, get lost!” The raven-haired boy demanded, pushing the older boy in the middle away. “I said get lost, you gits!” The boy yelled, the air around him cackling. The older boys scowled, surprised by the younger boy's outburst, before turning away and leaving the two of you alone.

“Are you alright?” The raven-haired boy asked, turning to face you.

“Uh-huh, I'm alright, thanks.” You mumbled, avoiding the boy's gaze.

“You can take your hand off your mouth now, you know? They’re gone, you can smile now.”

You eyed him hesitantly, skeptical. You shook your head, clasping another hand over your mouth.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make fun of you.” He smiled, offering his hand out. “I’m James, by the way. James Potter.”

You stared at his hand, still avoiding his gaze. “I'm Y/n L/n.” You mumbled, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“Nice to meet you, Y/n.” James smiled at you, his hazel eyes bright and kind. “You know, you shouldn't let those idiots get to you,” James said, taking a step closer. His voice was surprisingly gentle, and for a moment, you were almost tempted to look up at him again. “They're just gits, jealous gits.” He added with a grin.

“Thanks, James.” You said, meeting his gaze for the first time. His eyes were bright and curious, and you found yourself lost in them for a moment. You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a little more at ease around him.

“No problem, Y/n,” James replied with a grin. “So, what are you doing out here all alone on a Saturday afternoon?” He asked, sitting down on the swing next to you.

You shrugged, looking away. “I don't really have any friends my age.” You muttered.

James raised an eyebrow at you. "Oh, that's too bad. Well, you've got one now," He insisted, nudging you playfully. “Now, what do you like to do for fun?”

Ever since that day, the two of you have become inseparable. You were the Bonnie to his Clyde, the peanut butter to his jelly, and the yin to his yang. You were the best of friends, always there for each other through thick and thin.

Growing up, you both shared everything, from secrets to dreams and ambitions. James was always there for you, and you for him. You were inseparable, and everyone in your neighborhood knew that if they saw one of you, the other wasn't too far away. There was nothing the two of you couldn't handle together.

You and James loved being best friends. You were comfortable with him, like he was your other half. He protected you from bullies and made sure you were always happy. The only thing that mattered to the both of you was being by each other’s sides. The both of you loved to dress up, where you were the damsel in distress and James was the knight in shining armor. You and James chased each other in their large orchards; sometimes the two of you would play hide and seek or would go for a swim in the river nearby—with their house elf, Tilly, looking after the both of you, of course. The two of you would lounge up in the tree house that James’ father built. James would talk endlessly about Quidditch—which you were never interested in—but you’d listen to him nevertheless. You would ramble about your favorite books, and James would listen with a huge smile on his face at your enthusiasm. You and James had dance parties, tea parties, adventures, and so much more. You’ve spent so much time with James that your parents had to literally pry the both of you away from each other at the end of the day—much to your parents and James’ parents’ amusement.

You loved James; you have loved him since you were eight. You loved him more than just as a friend. Your parents had their suspicions—the way you looked at James was a giveaway; you looked at him like he was the only person in the whole world. But James was oblivious; he was far more interested in going on adventures with you or obsessing over Quidditch than ever noticing the way you look at him.

Everything changed when you and James received your Hogwarts letters.

Of course, you and James were still the best of friends—with the addition of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew—though no one can ever replace you in James’ heart.

The two of you were ecstatic when you were both sorted into Gryffindor. You and James have been dreaming about setting foot at Hogwarts and learning more about magic since the two of you were nine. Both of you had lots of plans for the next seven years, like wreaking havoc inside the halls of the castle, finding secret passageways, and so much more. James wanted to be on the Quidditch team and someday hoped that he would be captain, while you wanted to become a prefect and someday maybe Head Girl. You had hoped that you and James would spend as much time as when you were kids, but that wasn’t the case when a certain emerald-eyed redhead came into the picture. James was absolutely smitten with Lily Evans, a muggle-born witch in your year and house.

You watched from the sidelines as James constantly tried to get Lily's attention and impress her with his Quidditch skills and charming personality—which always ends up failing because Lily despised James for bullying her best friend, Severus Snape. You were nowhere near competing with her. You couldn’t blame James for liking the feisty redhead—Lily was intelligent, kind, and gorgeous. It was always Lily this and Lily that, and it hurt you. You supported James, helping him think of ways to win Lily, even if it broke your heart in the process.

You sighed, snapping yourself out of your trance. There was silence outside; the only noise you could hear was James’ breathing.

“I think Snape’s gone.” You whispered, standing up and opening the door to check outside.

“Is he?” James asked, leaning over you. “We should’ve brought the map with us.”

You turned to face him, your faces a mere inch away from each other. For James, it was nothing, just close proximity inside a cramped broom closet, but for you? Your stomach was doing somersaults at the sight of his hazel eyes and soft lips—those lips you've wanted to kiss since fifth year.

You quickly brushed the feeling aside, pushing James slightly away from you. “Right, we should've brought it before we jumped into this. Where’s the map anyway?”

Suddenly, the door opened behind you, making you stumble back and fall to your bum. You looked up to see Sirius peering over you.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Sirius smirked, eyeing you and James.

“Shut up, Padfoot!” You hissed. “It’s not like that, you prick!”

“What are you two doing in here?” Sirius asked, raising an eyebrow as James helped you up.

“Just taking a little breather,” James replied, a smirk playing on his lips.

“You’re lucky I was the one who found you and not Snape,” Sirius chuckled. “He was fuming, you know.”

You rolled your eyes and shot a playful glare at James as the two of you stepped out of the broom closet. “It's all your fault,” you muttered.

“Come on, don’t be mad at me, Y/n,” James said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s go cause some more trouble, yeah?”

“Nah, let’s head back to the common room. I’m a bit tired.” you yawned, resting your head on James’ shoulder.

“Fine, party pooper,” James teased, ruffling your hair as the three of you made your way back to the common room. You couldn’t help but smile as the familiar warmth of the Gryffindor tower greeted you. Your eyes landed on Remus, who was sitting on a couch near the fireplace with a book in his lap.

You made your way to Remus with a warm smile, James and Sirius following behind you. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a quaffle came flying in your direction, hitting you hard on the head. You fell to the floor, your vision getting blurry.

“Oh shit, Y/n!” James yelled, rushing to your side and pulling you into his arms. “Y/n, shit, open your eyes! Padfoot, Moony, help!”

Such pretty eyes. You thought as the view of James’ face slowly blurred because of the concussion.

“I love you, Jamie.” You managed to whisper before everything went black.

@helens3amstuff @gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @lovemelikecrazyiloveyoucrazy @tchalamss @ashlynnmalfoy @crazycat-ladys-blog @michakune @mxltifxnd0m @spencerr3idd @dangelnleif @sthkate @ferrjulie @imnotoverlyobsessive @mel-vaz @elsagreeer @lovely-maryj @meowmeowmau @bobthe-turmpetman29 @saintcosette @ashisabitgay @ladyladybuggg @nyrasunderwrld @lizzxoxo @remussbitch @jadahxx @starrystormwritings @ell0ra-br3kk3r @dreary-salem @drewsandsebastianswife @greenapplegrass @lilianelena39 @danni-phant0m @haybellewrites @cloudlst @si4a @ev3ningrain @ttulipwritezz @bambikitten @bullets-from-another-dimension @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @reg-arcturus-black @abruuinlove @marina468 @3stelar @timhalamet @st4rf00k3r @idli-dosa @jimins15thhair @blacksgarden

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fourmoony · 4 months

Text

Friends or What?

James Potter x F!Reader

A coming of age story in which Potter's Corner Shop has a funny way of bringing people together. Falling in love is daunting when everyone is watching.

Ao3 Link (chapters will be uploaded here the day before Tumblr).

CW: For Chapter One, the content warnings include: Use of the word 'fag', but in context to a cigarette (UK slang) Foul language A minor using the word 'shagging' Smoking/Drinking alcohol A comment about hoping someone chokes Threat of caving someone's head in with a baseball bat (it's lighthearted, I swear) Implied internalised homophobia Mentions of fighting

Please be aware that this fic will contain multiple hard to read scenes, and I completely understand, if because of this, you choose not to read :) it's a coming of age fic, while there'll be lots of fluff and happy moments, there'll also be lots of hard, uncomfortable moments, too. Please, please, do not make yourself uncomfortable.

CHAPTER ONE (7k) -

Sirius is stocking the fag drawers, behind the counter, when you come in through the shop door. The little bell above the wooden frame dings to announce your arrival. Sirius doesn’t turn upon hearing the bell, nor does he acknowledge there’s even anyone in the shop. You follow his lead, heading up the sweetie aisle, wiggling your fingers as you go, lips puckered in anticipation as you search of the cherry lollies you know were delivered this morning. Whether or not Sirius has bothered to unload the pallet yet is a strong factor in whether you’ll find them sitting where they’re supposed to be. Your eyes scan the shelves, there are no cherry lollies to be found. No worries, you think, picking up a fashion magazine as you pass the stand.

You walk the loop of the shop, hear the bell ding in the distance signal someone else has come in. It smells like newspapers and the inside of the fridges that line the back wall of the shop; the radio crackles through tinny speakers, playing the UK Top 40 and you just know Sirius is hating every minute of it. When you approach the till, Sirius still has his head in the fag drawer, whistling along to his own song, radio be damned.

“You didn’t put the cherry lollies out, lazy arse,” you say.

Sirius jumps, turns as though you might be standing there with a balaclava and machete, ready to demand he open and empty the till. He rolls his eyes when his brain catches up with the situation, head bobbing to the left where the storeroom door sits, a pale blue, creaky thing that drives everyone insane on stock days with its constant whine every time it opens and closes, “Help yourself.”

The storeroom is cold and dark, but spacious, with piles of overflow stock lined up against the walls, organised into specific sections. It’s almost scary how neat it is. There’s a pallet in the middle of it all, wrapped in black plastic that’s been ripped at the top; likely Sirius taking the fags out. You scan the pile with a frown, knowing it’ll be an annoying game of Jenga trying to find the lollies without pulling everything else down with them. It takes a while, and a bit of rearranging, but you find the tub and return to Sirius with a triumphant smile. The customer that followed you in is filing out the door, so you allow Sirius to scan your items and give him the money.

“You should be about halfway through that pallet by now, it’s gone one in the afternoon, you know.” You chastise Sirius playfully.

He scowls when you sit on the counter beside the till one leg curled up and tucked underneath you, the other swinging back and forth, kicking and wobbling the specials display underneath the till. He knows he’s not getting rid of you any time soon when you flip open your magazine, unwrap your lolly, and stick it in your mouth.

“It showed up late. Problem with a road closure, or something.” Sirius replies, turning back to the drawer.

He rips open a packet of Sterling Duals and starts stuffing them into the drawer. You hum, amused, “That what you’re going to tell Effie?”

Sirius scoffs, an air of arrogance to him when he looks over his shoulder, long, black hair flicking with the movement, “It’s the truth. Plus, Effie never shouts at me. You know this.”

“Perks of being the boss’s son.”

Sirius seems to preen at your jab over his nepotism. He’s always very happy to be known as Euphemia and Fleamont Potter’s son. You don’t know much about his situation, just that the Potter’s took Sirius in when he was sixteen and none of them ever looked back. He’s happy and he’s cared for, and he seems to love being their son. So, you don’t ask. It’s none of your business, anyway.

The bell dings again and you and Sirius both look over out of habit. You have to lean past the roll stand to your left to fully see who’s came in, but when you catch sight of James, your grin grows wider. James Potter is Euphemia and Fleamont’s son. Biological son. Granted, that doesn’t matter with the way Effie fawns over Sirius like he was the biological one. She claims to love them the same. You secretly think Sirius is the favourite, though you have no idea why. He’s an insufferable shit, most of the time. James is nice. He’s bright and always happy, a proper ray of sunshine which, on the bad days, can be a little annoying.

It’s rather hard to be angry at the world when James Potter is standing there with his stupidly pretty grin and his big brown eyes, spouting such optimism into the world that things just start to feel better because he says they will.

“Delivery came late, mate. Just got it half an hour ago.” Sirius doesn’t even greet his best friend with a ‘Hello’, just moves straight onto damage control over the fact he’s still restocking the fag counter at one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Don’t listen to him, Jamie,” You say, popping the cherry lolly out of your mouth to talk properly, “He’s a dirty liar. Lazy arse, too.”

James laughs, approaches where you’re perched on the counter and stands so close you can smell his aftershave. It’s a bit of a cliché, honestly; fancying your boss’s son. Well, really, he’s your friend before he’s Effie and Monty’s son. You’ve always been friends. Since before you started working at the shop. Since school, really. But still. The cliché sits a little clunky in your chest sometimes. Especially when he looks as handsome as he does, today. He’s wearing his rugby jumper and a pair of joggies. Really, it’s nothing special. But he looks so soft. So cosy. His hair is all mussed up from the wind and his glasses are a little squint.

You reach out a manicured finger to push them further up his nose and he smiles down at you. Yeah, you think, pathetic.

“Are you here to work or cause trouble?” James asks with a teasing smile whilst Sirius sputters at your accusations.

“I can multitask, you know,” is your reply, words sweet as honey, “But to answer your question, no, sadly I am not here to work.”

“And yet you’re still here, annoying me with your presence.” Sirius mumbles.

You roll your eyes, turn to James with pouted lips, “See the way he talks to me?”

In James’s defence, he plays the game. See how far you can push each other before the other gets flustered and has to walk away. Last week he gave you a taste of your own medicine so bad that you had to stand in the stock room like an idiot for five minutes counting tins of beans until your face returned to its normal colour. You’re good at putting up a front, acting like whatever the two of you are doing doesn’t effect you, that you’re cool, calm, and collected about the whole thing. But the tins of beans in the stock room would tell a different story, could they talk. You’re glad they can’t, as silly as that thought is.

James, bless him, humours you – much to Sirius’ dismay – and coos, brows furrowed in mock-sympathy, “Poor soul.”

“Okay, fine, if this was your plan to get me to do the pallet, I’ll go.” Sirius finally breaks, hands held up in surrender.

It wasn’t your plan, but you watch him leave with an amused smile.

“The road into the village was shut, I know the delivery was actually late.” James laughs to himself.

“Hm,” You hum, ditching your magazine to the side and swinging your legs over the counter until you’re standing behind it, “Me too.”

“Thought you weren’t working today.”

You shrug, picking up where Sirius left off with the fags, your back turned to James, “I’ll do these and then I’ll be off.”

“Thanks.” James rounds the counter the normal way, punching his clock in card on the machine beside the till.

You look up, find him leaning against the counter by his hip, a small smile on his face. He’s so charming, you think.

“Don’t thank me,” You warn, the ghost of a mischievous smirk dancing across your face, “I’m putting them all in backwards, so he has to redo them all.”

“You know how he gets about the fag drawers,” James groans, because he knows he has to spend the rest of the day listening to Sirius gripe about whatever it is you’re about to do. “They’re his… area.”

“Yeah, well,” You shrug, “He didn’t put the cherry lollies out.”

James doesn’t have an answer for that. He just huffs a laugh and reaches for a packet to open and starts to pass you them.

-----

‘The Saturday Girls’, or so they’re nicknamed, are nice. They’re so coined because they only work Saturdays to help with unloading the bulk of the delivery that comes that morning. It’s a weekend job, perfect for them because they’re still in school, and it offers them a bit of pocket money. It would’ve been a dream job for you at fifteen, but Shauna and Lisa sometimes seem like having to work a shift in Potter’s Corner Shop is the bane of their entire teenage existence. Like now, Shauna stands leaning up against the end of the third aisle, passing Lisa packages of toilet rolls off the trolley with a sardonic look on her face.

You can hear them talking about a girl in their form class, how she’s after Shauna’s boyfriend and it brings unwanted flash backs of being that age, that naïve, when the idea of someone stealing your boyfriend felt like the end of the world. Really, they should have a trolley each, working on separate aisles. But you don’t get paid enough to boss them around; and if Shauna’s insults to whatever girl is trying to steal her man are anything to go by, you don’t actually want to be on her bad side.

Sirius has taken a falling out with the fag drawers since your ruin of them, yesterday, and so you’ve spent the better part of the morning facing them all the correct way. There’s a box of clipper lighters on the floor at your feet to be unloaded, too.

“I’m too scared to tell them that putting toilet roll on the shelves isn’t a two-woman job,” James appears behind you following the nerve grating squeak from the storeroom door, leaning on the counter with a lopsided smile.

He’s placed the clipboard with all of today’s stock details on the counter, pen tucked neatly under the clip of it. You know he’s here for your signature, cutting the job in half for you by doing the inventory himself. He likes numbers, you hate them, he’s happy to do it so long as he doesn’t have to fix the mess you created in the fag drawers. Besides Sirius, you’re the only person to be trusted in Sirius’ sacred area. Ironically enough. You pick the pen up with a hum, scribbling your name to state you were here when the delivery arrived this morning, “Some poor girl in their form is getting it tight, today. Shauna thinks she’s after her man.”

James laughs airily, “So I shouldn’t go over there and intervene?”

“Best not. I’ll come up with something I need help with in five, ask her to help me. Just need to finish these, first.” You say, waving a packet of JPS Red around so James knows what you’re talking about.

“Thanks,” Is James’ reply, “For the signature and for saving me from getting called a daft bint, or something, behind my back.”

Your laugh is bubbly and comes out of your mouth so fast you don’t have time to be embarrassed about it. It makes James laugh, too, low, and throaty as he taps the pen against the clipboard. He shakes his head and makes his retreat to the office at the back of the storeroom, likely to file the inventory sheet for Monty to look over on Monday. It only takes you a few more minutes to fix the rest of the fags, all in their correct places, all facing the correct way. The clippers are unloaded haphazardly into the tub in the bottom drawer, and then you’re off, on the hunt for Shauna.

She and Lisa have made it to the baby wipes when you come down the aisle that they’re in. Shauna is leaning against the trolley now that she doesn’t have the wall at the end of the aisle to lean on, and she’s passing Lisa the packets one by one. Lisa has her head ducked into the shelf to reach all the way to the back, but Shauna straightens up when she sees you round the corner.

“Hey, you okay to help me build some stuff up in the storeroom to get it off the pallet?” You ask.

There’s an empty box on the trolley that you reach for, pulling it apart until it’s flat and you can stick it inside the bag on the back of the trolley. Shauna gives a longing glance to Lisa, as though being parted from her will bring her physical pain. It’s quite comical, really. A small part of you misses being so young and carefree. Shauna nods, following you to the storeroom.

James is holding the door open on your way past, “I’ll keep an eye on the till.”

You thank him and Shauna follows you through. There’s not much to be unloaded, really. You and James got the majority done this morning when it arrived, and so its overstock that’s left. Shauna follows your lead, knowing by now where everything goes. There’s cereal and biscuits, teabags and coffee jars, there’s alcohol and fizzy juice. Shauna doesn’t talk much while you work, which isn’t surprising. She’s rather quiet and subdued with the rest of the staff, most of the time. Without Lisa to bounce off of, Shauna doesn’t usually say much.

“How long have you and James been together?” Shauna asks out of nowhere.

It’s less surprising to hear her starting conversation than the question she’s actually asked, which is saying something. The box of ready salted crisps in your hands go toppling backwards from where you’d been reaching to put them on top of the pile as you twist to face her, eyebrows somewhere near your hairline. The girl looks nonplussed, lifting a crate of Red Stripe and placing it with the other alcohol against the wall closest to the door.

“Sorry?”

You can’t quite find the words, brain reeling at a mile a minute because have other people noticed whatever game you and James are playing and assumed you’re together? That’s incredibly embarrassing and unprofessional. Shauna doesn’t seem to notice your confusion as she barrels on, seemingly in her own world, “It’s just cause, me and this boy from school have been going out for, like, a month, yeah?”

She doesn’t actually wait for your response as she picks up another crate of beer and sticks it on top of the pile she’s created, “And this girl from my form keeps trying to text him. He’s told me he’s ignoring her, but I dunno if I believe him.”

“Right.” You say, a bit dazed, trying to keep up with what she’s saying whilst trying to put together what this would have to do with you and James.

“I guess I’m just wondering what you’d do if it was another girl trying to get with James. Like, would you go barmy?” Shauna asks, and you can tell there’s a hint of insecurity in there somewhere.

Picking up the crisps you’d dropped rather ungracefully, you tell her, “Well, James and I aren’t together. Like, at all. But if it was someone I really liked, I’d be a bit upset, I suppose. If he says he isn’t replying, I’d believe him until he gives you a reason not to.”

Shauna seems pleased with that answer, but feels the need to add, “Anyone would think you and James are together. Or, at the very least, shagging.”

There’s really nothing you can say to that, is there? It knocks the wind out of you, flusters you, and concerns you all at once. What do fifteen-year-olds know about shagging? Well, you suppose it’s all your friends wanted to talk about at fifteen, too. But. Well. No. Just, no.

“Right,” Shauna breaks your flustered silence by dusting her hands on the side of her trousers, “That it, then?”

Right enough, the pallet is empty. You open your mouth to talk but find nothing will come out, so you close it and nod. She files out of the storeroom after shooting you a weird glance but doesn’t feel the need to add anything more. You count tins of beans until your brain decides it can function again.

“The Saturday Girls have got to go.” You tell James when you slip behind the till ten minutes later.

He breaks his focus from the screen the security camera’s run on, eyebrows narrowed in concern, “She said something?”

You wave your hand, 'nothing too bad', it signals, “Asked how long we’ve been shagging.”

James promptly chokes on air, pounds his chest a few times with wide eyes. You wonder if you should be offended, or if he’s just genuinely surprised Shauna was so brass necked about the whole ordeal. You settle on a nod and a placating look, exactly, you think.

“She’s like, twelve.”

Huffing a laugh, you correct him, “Fifteen, actually. But still, I dropped a box of crisps, nearly toppled the whole tower I was so gobsmacked.”

“What,” James laughs after, “at the suggestion of shagging me, or her boldness?”

If there’s one thing James Potter knows how to do, it’s get under your skin. He’s wearing that signature knowing smirk, the one he wears when he’s thinking something mischievous, or he knows exactly what you’re thinking, feeling, like he can see right into your soul. He’s a prick, you decide. He knows exactly what he’s doing.

The thing is: this game is slowly spiralling into more than you can handle. It’d started as an easy way to irritate Sirius, then an even easier way to make the boring shifts go in quicker, then it was just fun. Watching the way his tongue pokes the side of his cheek when he’s considering a rebuttal, or trying to hide a smile, the way his jaw clenches when you come in on your days off wearing tight clothes, only to perch yourself on the edge of the counter and promptly tease him all day. It’s fun. But now it’s too much. James is too much. Because at the start, he’d get shy and flustered, brush you off in a polite manner. But now. Well, now he’s an evil shit who likes to make you weak and hot and bothered and all of the in-betweens every chance he gets.

“Jamie,” You smile, sweet as honey, eyes doe-like and offering him the challenge, “You couldn’t handle me.”

The minute James shakes his head, hair flopping to the side, tongue pushed into his cheek, you know you’ve won this round. He slinks off to find another job for Shauna to do, who you can see on the security cameras has gone back to passing Lisa things off of the trolley.

Twenty-six tins of beans. There are twenty-six tins of beans in the storeroom.

-----

The rota goes like this: Monday: Monty, open. You and James, close. Tuesday: Sirius and James, open. Remus, close. Wednesday: Effie, open. Monty, close. Thursday: Remus and James, open. You and Sirius, close. Friday: Sirius, open. Effie, close. Occasionally James, close. Saturday: You and James, open. Effie and Monty, close. Sunday: Monty, open. You and Remus, close.

The open shift runs from seven o’clock in the morning, until two in the afternoon, and the close shift runs from two o’clock in the afternoon, until ten o’clock at night. Potter’s is the only shop in the village open until ten, and it’s a busy shop because of this. Probably, also, because the Potters are well known, well liked, and well respected.

But the main thing to note about the rota is that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are never scheduled to work a shift together. Ever. The simple reason is because they don’t get on. Like, despise each other for a reason that is unbeknownst to you, and even James, who is Sirius’ best friend in the entire world, his brother. Personally, you think their beef is pointless. But the delivery driver who dropped off the Saturday pallet five months ago and ended up having to break up a petty argument between the two would likely disagree. Apparently, some harsh words had been said between the two, and after the Potter’s decided Sirius was just as much an instigator as Remus was easy to snap, and that both of them were irreplaceable as workers, the new rota was made, stapled to the office wall, never to be changed, and with their names never beside each other.

It’s strange, to you, because Sirius and Remus are both lovely. You enjoy working with both of them. Separately, of course. They seem to know that in the situation of their hatred of each other, you and James are both Switzerland. You’ll listen to them rant about each other, sympathise with their feelings, but ultimately add nothing of note to the conversation. Sometimes you think that bothers them more. Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding their hatred of each other every Saturday in the pub, but they’ve become increasingly better at tolerating each other’s presence. It no longer ends in one or the other storming out of the pub or offering to meet each other outside for a scrap. Small wins. You’ve no idea where they get the energy to put so much effort into their animosity towards each other. A small part of you actually thinks they enjoy getting each other riled up to the point of snapping, the same way you and James do, just with more insults and less innuendos. Each to their own, you suppose.

Remus has his foot kicked up against the wall with a fag in his hand when you near the shop door. He’s staring across the road at the small play park, looking rather lost. There’s a group of kids on the swings, laughing and chatting away. They’re young looking. Ten, maybe eleven. When he notices you, Remus seems to snap out of whatever daydream he’s in, eyes softening and his lips turning upward into a smile. It pulls at the scar slicing across his cupids bow, taught, but paling out at the stretch. There’s a number of scars that litter Remus’ skin, the product of a nasty car crash he was in as a child. You don’t notice them as much, now, as when he first started working at Potter’s. They’re just part of who he is, and they make him no less handsome.

“Here even on your day off,” Remus tsks, passes you the cigarette.

You have a draw, blowing out the smoke with the ghost of a teasing smile on your lips, “Someone’s got to mind the till on your eighteen fag breaks.”

Remus laughs, accepting of the jab, “Monty’s in today. Shops not totally unmanned.”

“Ah,” You hum, passing him the fag back, “Unusual for him. He usually runs off the minute his shift finishes.”

He nods, sandy hair flopping in a mess of curls on top of his head. “Something about having to find a new supplier, the drivers for Zonko’s are complaining about having to drive into the village.” Remus speaks through an exhale, the wind carrying the smoke along the street.

He flicks the fag to the ground and follows you inside, finding his place behind the till whilst you meander down the aisles, still content in having the conversation, “That’s ridiculous. It’s only fifteen minutes off the motor way.”

Remus makes a noise of agreement but doesn’t say anything else until you return to the till with a cherry lolly and a magazine. He looks at your purchases with an enhanced non-surprised glance, eyes flicking up to ask with a simple look if you could be any more predictable. You shrug, hand him a fiver, and he passes you your change.

“Think they’re just annoyed because the only road into the bloody place is always closed because that daft Mr. Filch keeps forgetting to shut his gate and the cows always escape.” Remus comments, closing the till.

You take up your usual space, to the left of the till, leg tucked under you, subconsciously kicking the specials stand with your free foot. The customers are never surprised to find you sitting here. Most of them often comment that you’re like the store’s very own cat. Always lurking, happy to sit, and watch the people go about their days. Really, you just like to annoy whoever is working. Unless it’s Effie or Monty. They usually put you to work if you hang around for too long.

“They should really just bolt that bloody fence shut. He’s always losing his cows.”

“He does it on purpose. I don’t know why, yet, but he does.” Remus theorises, his brows furrowed as though it’s some great mystery as to why old Argus Filch is always letting his cows run free, as though he has some ulterior motive.

Perhaps he does. You’ve never given it much thought.

“They should switch to Ollivander’s, anyway. I’ve been telling them for months that they’re better priced. Plus, they’re closer, the delivery charge wouldn’t be as much.” You say, eyes scanning the pages of your magazine.

The cherry lollypop rattles off your back teeth, something you know drives Remus insane. You don’t stop.

“They don’t stock Pettigrew’s butcher meat, though.” Remus counters.

Pettigrew’s Butchers is the most sought-after Butcher meat in the village, and Potter’s is the only place that stock it. It’s what drives in most of the customers, you’d argue. It’s good meat. You’ll give them that. It’s why Effie and Monty have been hesitant to drop Zonko’s as their distributor because they’ll lose their access to Pettigrew’s. Truly a conundrum in the eyes of the village. You flick to the next page, shrugging, “It’s only a forty-minute drive out of the village. Wouldn’t Pettigrew deliver it himself?”

“What, every morning?”

You sigh, long and suffering. This conversation is, truly, boring. You love Remus. You do. Really. But you miss Sirius. Or James. Remus seems off, today. He’s less humorous, less sarcastic. You won’t push. You know he doesn’t like that. But you shouldn’t have to suffer the world’s most boring conversation because of it. Perhaps that’s selfish of you.

“Zonko’s doesn’t even deliver to us, every morning. Just have Pettigrew's tie in with the days we get from Ollivander’s.” You suggest, though, you know there’s nothing Remus can do about it.

It’s a conversation best had with Monty or Effie. Even James. But they’re smart. They’ll likely figure it out on their own. You hop off the counter, pulling the lolly from your mouth as you go, “Either way, it’s going to be a shit few weeks if we don’t have a distributor. I need to go, meeting Sirius for a cuppa at the Leaky.”

You wince as soon as the words come out of your mouth, watching as Remus’ expression falls.

“Hope he chokes on his cuppa.” Remus mutters, though a saccharine smile comes across his lips.

You roll your eyes, pointer finger already aimed at him, “Behave!”

He holds his hands up in mock surrender, though you know behaving is the last thing Remus Lupin will ever do when it comes to Sirius Black. It’s ridiculous.

“Give Monty my love.” You say in ways of a goodbye and Remus waves you off.

You pretend not to hear when he tells you to give Sirius the middle finger for him.

-----

“You’re a genius, you know.” Sirius says, sitting your drink down in front of you.

The pub is, strangely, quite quiet. There’s a family of four in the far corner, eating a meal in stoic silence – awkward – and a group of older women by the bar, a bottle of champagne in an ice cooler on the table and bubbling glasses in each of their hands. Of course, you and Sirius were the last to arrive, meeting the rest of your friends at the only large table the Three Broomstick’s own, which lead to him shooing you off to get a seat and buying your drink for you. You won’t complain. Your regular table is already a mess of empty pint glasses from James, Remus, and Frank, and two empty wine bottles from Lily, Mary, and Marlene. Alice is on nightshift at the police station, a lucky feat for everyone because it means there’ll be no tequila shots tonight. Fine by you.

It’s a long table that you all occupy, with two benches running along either side, and no matter how busy the pub is, people always seem to know not to sit there. None of you would mind if they did, really. But it’s just something people don’t do. Your group has been coming to the Three Broomsticks since you were seventeen (not that Rosmerta, the owner, knows that), minus Remus, who moved to town seven months ago, wandered in for a pint one night, and unfortunately for him, got stuck with you lot.

“Mm,” You hum, cheeks puffing out in your pleased smile, “I know. Do feel free to tell me why, though.”

Sirius guffaws, rolling his eyes at your theatrics – as though he isn’t the carbon copy of you, just in male form – “For the Ollivander’s idea. Well, tying it in with Pettigrew’s, at least.”

“What?”

You hadn’t told anyone about that idea. Anyone other than Remus, at least, who looks incredibly sheepish when your eyes flick to him further along the table, conveniently out of arms reach of Sirius. James, who swallows a gulp of his pint before he speaks, looks incredibly cheerful when he says, “Yeah! Dad loved that idea. He didn’t even consider asking Pettigrew’s for a private contract. He didn’t think they’d be up for driving into the village, but turns out the son, Peter, delivers to the next town over twice a week, anyway.”

“Right.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink to wash the awkward feeling that’s settled over you away.

Really, you hadn’t meant to form some type of master plan.

“Sorry.” Remus winces.

“Why’s he sorry?” Sirius is quick to question, ever the one to start an argument, “What’s he done now?”

Remus scoffs, “Funny you think I’ve done something.”

“Well, you were the one apologising.”

“He’s not done anything, Sirius. Give it a rest, both of you.”

That shuts them up.

“I told Monty about her idea after she left on Tuesday.” Remus admits, looking rather sheepish.

Sirius seems placated enough with his answer, so he shrugs and enters into a conversation with Frank and James, who lost interest the minute Remus and Sirius started bickering. You assure Remus that it’s okay, waving him off before nudging your head further down the table, inviting him into the conversation with Lily, Mary, and Marlene.

Lily is complaining about her job in the council office. She’s pretty high up, though, you couldn’t for the life of you tell someone what it is she actually does, had they asked. Something to do with the local MP. There’s a shit tonne of paperwork and multiple people who Lily thinks are, in her words, so far up their own arse, they forget they’re civil servants and not, in fact, the be all and end all of the world. Her job is highly stressful, as is obvious by the empty bottle of wine in front of her, even though it’s not long gone five o’clock. Lily Evans worked incredibly hard to be where she is, though, the fireball of a human that she is, and she’ll be damned to ever give up, now. You admire her, really. She grew up in the village, like all of you except Remus, noticing the prejudice it held, the unfair situations people lived in, the real issues the place held, rather than what every other member of the council saw as ‘issues’, and she went to University, got her degree, came right back, and got to fucking work. She hasn’t solved world hunger yet, but you’re sure she’s well on her way to it. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’ll be Lily Evans.

Mary and Marlene are listening intently, especially Mary, who’s been begging the council to fund the one primary school the village has, Hogwarts, more substantially than it has in previous years. She’s a teacher there, and she loves it with every bit of her being, but the school is incredibly underfunded, so she and Lily have been working on a campaign to bring it to the Council’s attention. They’re making progress. But not as quick as Mary would like. That much is obvious in the way she rants about Lucius Malfoy and his pretentious, pompous, personality. He is a bit of a prick, honestly. He’s the head of the school board committee for the village, and he’s the main reason the school hasn’t received the funding it’s needed in almost ten years. He’s a toad.

Marlene, even though she couldn’t give less of a shit if she tried, is listening, anyway. She’s a good friend, Marlene, but past her friends, her family, and music, there isn’t much Marlene McKinnon really gives a toss about. You commend her for it really, her no-fucks-given attitude towards the world, the way she’s so carefree, and lives her life how she wants, no matter what. She’s laid back and honestly, doing better than the rest of your friends in adulthood. She’s the only one out of the lot of you who hasn’t had a full-scale meltdown, so far, this year. Or ever actually. You don’t remember the last time you saw Marlene truly upset about something.

“Honestly, Mary, you’d think he’d give more of a shit about funding things like the school’s library, considering his wife’s due any day now and his kid will likely attend Hogwarts.” Lily seems truly frustrated, her shoulder slumped, her index finger circling the rim of her wine glass.

“He’ll probably send his little demon spawn to some posh boarding school, knowing him. More money than bloody sense.” Comes Mary’s equally frustrated response.

She necks the rest of her glass in one gulp, shivers, and then sends Marlene off to procure another bottle. She goes without complaint, so you assume it’s her round.

“Surely it’s not legal to withhold funding from a school in such dire need of it.” Remus comments, ever the pessimist.

He thinks the worst of everyone. Especially Mr. Filch and his disappearing cows. He thinks he has an ulterior motive and he’ll die on that hill.

“Apparently there is no funding. And he won’t even push for any, either. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit that the school under his jurisdiction is struggling, majorly.” Lily replies, rolling her bright green eyes at the mere idea of Lucius Malfoy.

“There’s something not right about that.” You add, frowning.

Surely, he’d want his school to thrive. Apparently not.

“You’re telling me.” Mary pipes up.

“Anyway, enough work talk,” Lily says around a gulp of wine, waving her hand like it’ll banish all of the negative vibes Lucius has caused by simply existing, “How’d your date go with the handsome paper boy, Rem?”

Remus grimaces, “Don’t call him a paper boy, it makes him sound twelve years old.”

The story goes: Remus thought that someone was trying to break into his house, last month. Upon inspecting the situation with a baseball bat that everyone knows for a fact Remus does not know how to use, he met a rather startled, rather handsome paper boy named Christopher. Of course, Remus only learned this after he tried to cave the poor bloke’s head in with said baseball bat, only to find out that it was Christopher’s first day on the job and he had delivered the paper to the wrong house. After copious amounts of apologies, Remus had claimed he was fine with never seeing Christopher again. Until he realised that the paper’s he was delivering came directly from Potter’s. A travesty, really. Sirius howled with laughter, much to Remus’ dismay, and Effie had slipped an extra fiver into Christopher’s wages in ways of an apology. Turns out, no apology was needed, because Christopher, for whatever reason, took a liking to Remus and asked him out for coffee.

“Okay, your date with Christopher, then.” Lily corrects with a smirk.

“Wasn’t a date,” Remus singsongs, because he’s insecure and adamant that no one could ever fancy him. Even though you’ve already promised him that if he wasn’t painfully gay, you’d shag him. Lily had then felt the need to add in that if she wasn’t painfully gay, as well, she’d shag him, too. Still, he lives in denial. Idiot.

“Was too.” Marlene says, rather bluntly, returning with the wine which she passes to Mary.

She’s brought a glass for you, too, bless her. You finish the dregs of the drink Sirius bought you and accept the glass of wine Mary passes you with a ‘thank you’.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about.” Remus argues.

“Christopher. The hot paper boy whose skull you nearly caved in with a bat. Keep up, Remus.” Marlene winks at Remus, who simply huffs in defeat, taking a long swig of his pint.

“So?” Mary follows up, never one to let Remus catch a break. She’s almost as bad as Sirius, except she does it in a much more loving, much less spiteful way.

“It went well. We chatted about books.” Remus bobs his head, swallowing thickly.

Sirius is eyeing him from the other end of the table, lips twisted into a mean looking frown. It doesn’t last long before Frank is asking him something to do with motorbikes, and Remus is long forgotten. No one else catches it, so you ignore it.

“Books?” Marlene asks in disgust.

“You spoke about books.” Lily repeats, clearly trying to find some hidden meaning she’s not going to find. You know Remus well enough to know he likely did spend the entire date-that-wasn’t-a-date nattering on about books. He’s a bookworm at his core.

“Yes,” Remus confirms, slightly agitated, “We spoke about books.”

“Right,” Marlene sounds a little deflated, always one for the seedy stories, “Lovely.”

“It was, actually.”

“I’ll bet.”

Remus huffs a laugh and excuses himself under the premise of a cigarette. No one bats an eye, and you watch him leave. It takes Sirius approximately two minutes to excuse himself from his conversation with James and Frank and follow Remus straight out the door to the smoking area. James and Frank continue on, too engrossed to realise the shit show that’s likely to unfold any minute. Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall into a conversation about whatever show the three of them are watching and you stand up, walking around the table until you’re sitting next to James.

He smiles warmly when you sit down, shuffling a little so he can face both you, and Frank who’s across the table.

“Alright,” Frank greets, head tipping forwards.

“Hiya, Frank. How’s Alice?”

Alice is Frank’s wife. They grew up together but didn’t ever get together until they both attended Tulliallan when training to become police officers. They’re sickly in love, it’s actually kind of nauseating at times, but sweet, nonetheless. They’d been daft for each other since they were thirteen.

“She’s good. On nightshift, tonight.”

You hum, sympathising with her. Nightshift is no joke, especially in a village as quiet as yours.

“Uhm,” You turn to James, “Sirius and Remus are in the smoking area. Together. Alone.”

James sighs, takes a swig of his pint, and is up like a shot to stop whatever fight is likely happening in the Three Broomsticks beer garden. He squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he goes, offering you a smile he only ever seems to give you. You can’t read it. But it’s soft. Not the teasing smile he has when you’re flirting merciless with him, or him, you. It’s just. A nice smile. For you. You watch him go; head turned, the ghost of a smile on your own lips. He pushes open the wooden door and it swings shut behind him.

“How longs that been going on then?” Frank asks, nodding his head towards the door James just went through.

“Pretty much since they met, I suppose.”

Frank laughs, which causes you to frown, and then he shakes his head.

“No. You and Potter.”

“There’s nothing going on.” You say, though your face heats up all the same.

“I can keep a secret, you know.”

“Why does everyone think I’m shagging James?” You ask, rather loud for how empty the pub is.

Your face is flames when Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall silent and look over at you, biting back laughs and whatever comments it is that are sparkling behind their eyes. You groan, embarrassed, and turn to follow James out of the door. For a moment, you think he’s allowing a full-on fight between Sirius and Remus occur. He’s standing not far from the door, sheltered by the wooden terrace that leads out to the concrete of the smoking area. It’s dimly lit in comparison to the rest of the beer garden. You frown on approach, confused as to why he’s just standing there.

It takes all of two seconds for you to see what he’s seeing. Remus has Sirius crowded against the wall, caged in like some sort of animal, and he’s kissing him so violently, so aggressively, that they actually could be fighting. In some sick, twisted way.

“Holy shit.”

James’ eyes snap to yours, moving into action to pull you back inside before Sirius and Remus realise they’ve been foiled. His hand burns like fire against your arm, his eyes steely and sharp as he looks down at you, “You cannot tell anyone what you just saw.”

“You knew?”

James shakes his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He has you pushed up against the wall, much like Remus did Sirius, and your cheeks heat at the thought. Jesus, they’re more messed up than you thought.

“I suspected.”

“And you didn’t say anything?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.

“It’s not my place. Look, Sirius is – he’s complicated, okay? I don’t know if he even knows he’s – just don’t say anything, okay?” James is flustered, panicked.

You get it. Sirius has never mentioned being gay, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that perhaps, being gay isn’t something that was on Sirius’ radar until Remus popped up out of nowhere and sent his perception of himself tumbling. Okay. Fine. You get that. You can relate. Not entirely. The situation is different. James Potter is a boy you never paid any interest to, growing up. Not romantically, at least. Until he went away to Rugby camp one summer and came back looking like sin incarnate. Well, then you’d noticed, and everything you thought you knew about him came tumbling down. So, not exactly the same, but you get it.

“I won’t, James. I won’t say anything.”

“Not even to Sirius. Or Remus.” James looks panicked, like one wrong move in handling this situation will blow it up royally.

“Promise.”

James nods, seems to realise that he’s still got an iron grip on your arm, and drops it like you’d been the one scalding him. The door opens, washing you both with cool air, and Sirius storms back inside, halting when he sees the way James has you pushed up against the wall.

“You two shagging then?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone you can only assume was brought about by whatever the fuck just happened between him and Remus.

“Jamie wishes,” You plaster a sickly-sweet smile on your face, “He couldn’t handle me.”

With that, you leave them to it, returning to the table and finishing your entire wine in one gulp. The girls are kind enough not to say anything, but Lily gives you a sympathetic glance and refills the glass for you. Frank laughs to himself, you flip him off.

Remus returns a moment later, dodging Sirius and James who are still huddled where you and James just were. He takes a seat, finishes his pint, and calls it a night without another word.

You don’t miss the way James has to grab onto Sirius’ wrist to stop him from following.

Ahhhh! The first chapter is out!

I sincerely hope ya'll enjoyed :) Let me know your thoughts.

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