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beachylupin · 9 months

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I'm Not In Love || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader

i'm sorry for such the long wait everyone! but here it is! the heartbreak you've all been waiting for! i'm sorry if this is bad, but i didn't want a happy ending just yet. feedback is welcomed and appreciated! to preface: this part takes place at the very beginning of november here's part one and the moodboard word count: 3.8k warnings: mention of alcohol and cigarettes, swearing, descriptions of a panic attack, angst!!!!!!, reader is kind of an asshole, miscommunication, quickly edited

“I really don’t want to go,” you told Lily, hands on your cheeks as you rested your elbows on your kitchen island. “It’s actually like… the last thing I want to do with my time.”

“Please,” Lily begged from the other side of the counter, causing you to groan. “The whole Remus thing was a misunderstanding. He’s been very busy, but I know that he really wants to call you.”

Your head hit the table with a dull thud.

Busy? Remus hadn’t called you even though you gave him your number at Lily’s wedding a month ago. You genuinely thought he was interested, just as you were, and still are, but after the first month of dead silence, you got the message loud and clear. “Busy” wasn’t a very good excuse anymore. As far as you were concerned, he wanted nothing to do with you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why as you tried to forget about him.

Despite how many times James and Lily came to your flat or you went to their new one in that short time, Remus was rarely mentioned until now. Hell, you had seen more of Sirius than you had of him, and now two months after the wedding and a week before Sirius’s birthday, Lily hasn’t shut up about him.

“I’m not worried about the Remus thing,” you lied as you raised your head off the table, rubbing your forehead. “I’m worried about the wizard bar thing.”

That part wasn’t a lie. If a wizard wedding made you feel as self-conscious as ever, you couldn’t even imagine what a wizard bar would be like. They had different drinks with different effects, and you didn’t want to make an ass of yourself in front of someone who made you comfortable at said wedding then rejected you. You just wanted to fit in with a group of wizards, and you were already spiraling because of Remus’ apparent rejection. You had been rejected by other men before, sure, and while it hurt, this blow from Remus really threw you for a loop, causing a sour ache to start in the bottom of your chest whenever you thought about him. That meant the ache never really went away, but it lessened when you were busy with work or studying. You didn’t know if you could handle not being accepted by a whole friend group.

“It’s not at a wizard bar,” Lily huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’ve told you at least twenty times that it’s at the pub right down the road from your complex.”

“Oh, weird,” you said, definitely remembering, but you scrunch your nose anyway, pretending to rack your brain. “I would’ve remembered that, but it’s like… I don’t want to go or something.”

“You’re insufferable.” Lily met your glare with one of her own. “You know I could just lead Remus to your flat, right?”

“You wouldn’t do that,” you challenged, and Lily only smiled. “Lils, please. The wedding was with him was fine, but if he liked me, he would’ve called-”

“Remus wouldn’t just call,” she huffed, crossing her arms. “He’s much more romantic than that.”

“Well, I sure haven’t seen any of it, have I?” You grumbled back. “I’m not going.”

Lily went back to whining, a pout replacing her scowl. “Come on. Sirius would love-”

You began to lie, “I don’t know Sirius-”

“Just show up!” She snapped, raising her eyebrows. “Say it was a coincidence.” You groaned, and Lily grabbed your hands. “I’ll buy you as many vodka crans as you can drink, and you can hang out with the girls and I.”

“Lily-”

“Please,” she said, squeezing your hands. Lily looked so hopeful, her green eyes full of optimism. She knew it would break your heart to say no as she batted her lashes. “Please.”

“Fine,” you grumbled, and Lily squealed, rounding the island to pull your head into her chest in a squishy hug. You threw your arms around her to stabilize yourself on the stool, but she took it as a sign to squeeze harder, rocking you from side to side. “You’re a fucking menace.”

“I promise you it’s going to be so fun!” She cooed, pressing an enthusiastic kiss to the crown of your head before she gasped. “We have to pick you out an outfit!”

The next week was filled with near mental anguish. While you mentally prepared to see Remus again, you fully convinced yourself that he rejected you. He rejected you.

Could it be because you weren’t pretty enough? Or maybe you weren’t interesting enough. You had a sinking feeling it was because you weren’t like him. You couldn’t do anything he could do, and, in fact, you had to work much harder for things than he did. That’s fine, you reminded yourself.

You had to make yourself okay with this. You constantly told yourself that it was okay that he didn’t like you even though he was all you ever thought about. It’s not as though you knew each other. You had met once, you kept telling yourself. It wasn’t that deep. It was just a fun little crush that you had at a wedding. You weren’t in love. It’s fine.

You told yourself that he wasn’t busy. Remus just didn’t want you. That’s why he didn’t call. You weren’t enough for him, and you just had to accept that fact before you had to face him again to avoid any of the awkwardness.

It was going to have to be fine. You were going to have to act like everything was fine.

You arrived late to the party on purpose, busy pacing your flat and preening yourself in every mirror you passed. Nervousness made its home in your belly, anchoring itself by winding its way through your muscles and nerves. You could feel yourself flush scarlet as you doused yourself in perfume for the last time before you absolutely had to go.

You left your complex at a quarter to ten even though Lily told you to be there at nine sharp. Your heeled boots that Lily made you wear clicked on the pavement as you walked as slow as possible to the pub. Catching the reflection of yourself as you passed a darkened store front, you sighed.

You had on a black leather blazer, covering the sheer black tights, a black mini-skirt, and the white, lacy blouse you were wearing. You curled your hair, per Lily’s request, and darkened your lips with a wine-colored lipstick, matching it with a basic, brown eye. She said you were going to look “so in.”

You leaned toward the window, fixing your earring in the glass as you contemplated going home.

“Say it was a coincidence!” Lily’s words rang in your head as you fixed your other earring.

“A coincidence,” you mumbled to yourself. “A funny coincidence.”

You stepped away from the window, huffing to yourself as you set off toward the pub again, spotting it on the next street corner. Rehearsing what you’d say to everyone quietly to yourself, you finally reached the pub door.

Throwing your head back, praying a silent prayer, you entered the busy pub, bee-lining to the bar as if you weren’t expecting to see anyone that you knew. Taking a seat, you ordered a manhattan, scooching yourself closer to the bar.

In all reality, you spotted them right away, the girls were in the small crowd in front of the DJ and the boys, dressed as posh as ever, were around a small table, talking loudly. You knew Lily spotted you too, but you didn’t want to find out who else saw you, or even worse, who she told.

Your drink came with a grin from the bartender as you slipped off your coat, placing it underneath you. You silently thanked him then fished out the cherry at the bottom of the glass, popping it in your mouth and sucking it dry from the whiskey that it had absorbed.

You picked up the glass then turned around on your stool, scanning the crowd.

“... a coincidence!” Lily’s words echoed again.

You knew that at least Lily knew you were here, so there was no point in blatantly avoiding them. But what would you say? Your pre-planned conversation was gone. The nervousness wound its way up to your throat, forming a lump.

You took a sip of your cocktail as soon as you caught Lily staring at you from the dance floor. She turned around quickly, said something to Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas then walked away from them, a determined scowl on her face as she approached you.

“You’re late!” She hissed, pulling you into a hug. She reeked of vodka, her sour breath wafting into your face as she spoke again. “I said nine, and it’s ten!”

“I was nervous,” you mumbled, holding your drink out so that you could take the rest of it behind her back. “Sorry,” you said after you swallowed thickly.

Lily pulled away from you, her face still in a scowl. “I told you not to be!” She huffed, glancing over her shoulder. “The girls saw you as soon as you came in. You better put a smile on your face because they’re-” Lily’s whole demeanor changed as Mary’s hand met her shoulder. She smiled artificially, her lips pulling up to expose her teeth. “Look who I found!”

You sent your empty glass on the bar, mouth opening with faux surprise. “Oh my God!” You said, smiling widely. “I had no idea that you guys were going to be here!”

You hopped down from your stool, pulling each girl into a tight hug, squeezing them as long as necessary for them to believe that you were actually shocked.

“I was just coming to get a drink!” You gushed, glancing at Lily. “This is such a funny coincidence!”

“Come on, darlin’!” Marlene said, grabbing your coat and your hand. She beamed at Dorcas and Mary. “We haveta go show the boys who we found!”

“We really don’t-”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you another drink,” Lily said, smiling sweetly. You could see right through it, knowing she was still slightly mad at you. “Vodka cran, right, love?”

You grit your teeth into a smile. “Right. Thanks, Lils.”

Marlene giggled as she pulled you toward the boys, Dorcas and Mary lagging behind. “Mary thinks she’s gonna hook up wit’ Sirius tonight,” she gushed in your ear drunkenly. “‘S never gonna happen, but poor Mary sure thinks so.” She snorted, now walking way too far ahead of you, dragging you along.

You looked at the group of boys she was pulling you toward, all of them engrossed in a conversation except for the one you were actually trying to avoid.

From your quick glance, you could tell Remus’ cheeks were flushed, and you didn’t want to know if it was because the heat seemed to have turned up about ten degrees since you had locked eyes, or if he was drunk. You decided it was the latter in an attempt to make yourself feel better, ignoring the acid that burned your chest.

“Look who ickle Lils found sittin’ at the bar all by her lonesome,” Marlene slurred as soon as you walked up to the boys.

You felt your mouth pull into a smile despite the hammering in your ears. “Hi,” you said, feeling your arm wave a small wave.

You felt as though you were having an out of body experience as James pulled you into a sweaty, beer-soaked hug, squeezing you, and passing you along to Sirius, who kissed your cheek with wet lips.

“Happy birthday,” you mumbled as he pulled you into a hug, swearing he was sweating Jose Cuervo.

“I told you she was going to come!” Sirius ranted from behind your back. “Pretty girl can’t get enough of me!” He let go, his arm around your shoulder.

“Cat’s out of the bag,” you said, shrugging as he kissed your cheek once more.

“Someone’s more than excited to see you, doll,” he said near your ear, gently nudging you toward Remus.

You took your first real look at him. Remus hadn’t changed much except for the fact that he wasn’t leaning on a cane, and he had gotten his haircut, getting rid of the sun-bleached strands and leaving muddy brown in its place. You could tell he had been drinking by the way the sleeves on his white button-down were rolled up to his elbows, the top two buttons undone. You could see the outline of a box of cigarettes in the pocket of his black slacks.

He looked good. You could feel your face burn, trying to rub it away and playing it off like there was a fly buzzing around your head.

“Hiya,” you said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible as you pulled him into a one-armed hug around his middle.

He sniffed, moving his drink to his other hand as he squeezed your shoulder, mumbling, “Yeah, hi.”

The two of you separated almost instantly. Peter nodded a hello to you while James and Sirius exchanged looks. Marlene had turned around, loudly shouting at Mary and Dorcas who were on their way over.

Your gaze snapped to the ground as you swallowed thickly. The pep talk you gave yourself didn’t help at all.

“I’m going to head to the loo quick,” you said, glancing at James and Sirius. “I’ll be right back.”

Before anyone could protest or tell you that they were coming with you, you shot off toward the bathroom, trying not to break out into a full sprint.

You pushed the bathroom door open, entering a dingy stall and locking it behind yourself.

Sitting down on the surprisingly clean toilet, you let your head hit your hands with your elbows firmly planted on your knees.

“You’re fine,” you mumbled, sucking a breath into your reluctant lungs, pushing it out as you mumbled. “It’s fine.”

You recognized the panic as soon as you saw Remus in all of his glory. You pushed the heels of your palms into your eyes, trying to stop the inevitable tears. Breathing started to seem hard as you sucked another unwilling breath into your lungs.

Your week of talking yourself up hadn’t worked. It wasn’t just a crush. Love at first, or second, sight was real, and unfortunately, you seemed to be experiencing it.

Your hands started to shake as you took in another breath. Standing, you opened the stall door, walking out to grip the sink and stare at yourself.

You looked fine albeit for the single tear that you swiped from your cheek, so why didn’t you feel fine.

“I’m fine. I'm having fun,” you told yourself quietly. “Just get a drink, a-and act normal. I’m not in love. I’m fine, and I’m here to have fun.”

I’m not in love. The bile rose in your throat as you thought that phrase over again. I’m not in love.

You cupped your hands under the faucet, taking a scoop of tap water into your mouth.

Just then, Lily peeked in, her eyebrows furrowed with worry.

“The lads say you ran off,” she said, clutching your elbow. “Are you alright?”

“This wasn’t a good idea,” you muttered to Lily, shutting off the water. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“What?” Her eyebrows pinched together. “Is this about Remus?” You reluctantly nodded. “You’re fine, okay? He’s just awkward.”

“He wasn’t awkward at your wedding,” you mumbled.

“That’s news to me,” Lily scoffed. “You’re just overthinking.”

“I just really want to go-”

“Come on, you big worry wart,” Lily said, tucking you into her side. “Let’s go see the girls. They’re talking about Mary getting into Sirius’ pants.”

“Lily, please-”

“It’ll be fun, I promise,” she said, patting your shoulder.

“Lils-”

Despite your protest, Lily guided you out of the bathroom and over to the girls at the bar.

“-just so dreamy, right?” Mary cooed, her longing look thrown at Sirius. Lily snorted as Marlene scoffed.

“He’s not into you!” Dorcas groaned, her arm around Marlene’s waist. “He’s not going home with anyone, and I think you’d know that by now!”

“But I could convince him, right?” Mary asked redundantly, glancing at you. “Right?”

You shrugged. “I know nothing.”

Mary whined. “Oh, you’re no help.”

“If he wanted to shag ya, he woulda done it by now,” Marlene slurred, lightly punching Mary’s shoulder. “I would know.”

“Oh, shut up!” Mary huffed, punching her friend back. “That was five years ago-”

“Hey,” Remus said, approaching from behind you with a tight smile. The quiet chorus of girlish hellos answered him. He stopped next to you, specifically looking just at you. “Hi. Alright?”

You met his gaze and nodded quietly, “Yeah.”

The girls continued talking, ignoring his interruption. You tried to listen back to what they were saying, but Remus’ hand met your bicep in a gentle squeeze, pulling you away slightly.

“Can I talk to you?” He asked, lips close to your ear.

Your eyes met Lily’s for a fleeting second, a look of help me flashing in yours as Lily lightly shook her head.

“S-sure,” you mumbled, pulling away from him. You took a step away from the group, waiting for his explanation.

“We’re uh- we’re just going to go have a ciggy quick. Cheers ladies,” he said, and he grabbed your clammy hand, pulling you out of the pub.

You could just walk away. You could completely ignore him and just walk home. You wanted to, but your feet wouldn’t let you, planting you near the wall next to him.

Remus dropped your hand then lit his cigarette, leaning against the wall and blowing out smoke. He glanced at you, then looked down, obviously contemplating what he was going to say. “I- I’m sorry about um… About not calling you? I lost your number, and-”

You nodded, hardly hearing him over your heart pounding in your ears, puffing a small laugh through your nose. “I’ve never heard that one before-”

“It’s not like that,” Remus huffed over you.

You chuckled, feeling the panic in your chest crescendo as you removed yourself from the wall to pace in front of him, “I’ve been rejected before, Remus. It’s not that big a deal.”

“I never rejected-”

“It’s fine, okay?! It’s fine!” You laughed to yourself, your fingers meeting your temple with a dull rub as you stopped pacing. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to fucking come,” you muttered, turning toward the pub door.

“You didn’t want to come because- because of me?” Remus guawaffed, his eyebrows furrowed. “I didn’t reject you!”

“No, it’s fine.” Your fingertips met the bridge of your nose as you paused, trying to make yourself not cry. You huffed softly, facing him again. “Look, okay? I’m stupid, and I shouldn’t have ever given you my number, alright? Just forget about it, alright? It’s fine. I-I should’ve known that something like… like this-” you gestured between the two of you, your voice shaking. “-would never work.”

“Like what?” Remus’ cigarette was abandoned, the coal working its way slowly toward the filter.

“I like you,” you admitted, still looking at him. “A-and I know that sounds stupid because love at first sight is fucking- fucking fairytale shit, but I thought that maybe you thought the same things that I thought about you and that maybe it would work, but-”

“What do you mean?! I like you, I just lost-” He started, trying to take your hand in his.

The panic quickly turned to anger as you ripped your hand away from him.

“Look at us, Remus! We’d be wasting our precious time!” you shouted harshly over him, your hand flying in the air. “You’re a bloody wizard!” you hissed at him. “And I’m not! I-I… I can’t do any of the things that you can do.”

“That doesn’t matter-”

“But it does, and that’s why I’m saying to forget about the whole fucking thing, okay?” You turned away from him, walking back toward the pub door. “Just forget about it.”

“I like you!” He raised his voice, catching your shoulder. “I don’t want to just forget!”

You whipped around to face him, pushing his hand off your shoulder. “You’re just saying that because you feel bad for me,” you said, your teeth ground together.

Remus huffed. “I lost your number.” He enunciated every word, his jaw clenched. “I already told you that.”

“You could’ve gotten it from Lily,” You countered loudly, gesturing toward the building where you knew she was still having the fun she had promised you. “You could’ve rang Lily up and specifically fucking asked her-”

“I did!” He shouted, startling you. You shut your mouth, blinking owlishly. “I asked her,” he said, quieter this time. “But, as you know, they moved about a month ago and she misplaced her phone book, and couldn’t remember it off the top of her head.” Tentatively, Remus held both your biceps, leveling with you so that he could look you right in the eye. He let out a shaky breath, and softly said, “I wanted to call you. Honestly… I-I wanted to show up at your flat with- with flowers o-or something, but that would’ve made me look-”

“Creepy,” you whispered pointedly, nodding. “I get it.”

He dropped your arms, looking away from you with his jaw still clenched. “I’m sorry I yelled at you,” he said earnestly. “I just… I just like you, okay? And I wanted to get my point across, but you weren’t listening, and-”

You could feel yourself begin to well up, and it wasn’t because he yelled at you. You yelled at him, and he hadn’t even done anything wrong. Your panic had gotten the best of you. It was a genuine misunderstanding, just like Lily told you. You were wrong about him, yet again.

Instead of hearing him out, you walked quickly back into the pub, ignoring the way he called your name as he tried to catch up to you.

“I’m going home,” you said thickly as soon as you found Lily.

“Are you crying?” She asked, pulling you toward her. “What happened?”

“Lily, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You said shakily, your mouth pressing into a line. “I just want to go home.”

“Do you want me to walk-”

“No,” you answered, wiping tears off your cheeks as you looked over your shoulder. “Just distract him, okay? I don’t need him following me.”

Lily’s eyebrows furrowed, but she nodded.

“I’ll call you later, okay?” You said, quickly kissing her cheek. “I love you.”

You didn’t even let her respond as you rushed through the crowd, leaving through the back door of the pub.

You felt like a complete idiot. You had made an ass out of yourself, and you were convinced that now none of them liked you due to what you did to their friend.

You couldn’t believe yourself. He had admitted his feelings for you, and you blew up in his face. Your heart sunk to the bottom of your stomach, joining the sour ache that made its home there two months ago.

Remus liked you, and you ruined it.

You stopped, looking up at the nearly moonless sky, sighing out the breath you had been holding in.

“Fucking idiot,” you muttered, and continued on your way home. Alone.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x muggle!fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin angst #i'm not in love #harvest moon

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dreamcubed · 10 months

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call it what you want | draco malfoy x reader

song; call it what you want [taylor swift] pairing; draco malfoy x fem!muggle!reader genre; fluff, angst, forbidden love, s2l word count; 4,3k timeline; post-second wizarding war warnings; draco's daddy issues, low-key y/n's daddy issues, references to the second wizarding war (and draco's part in it), discrimination (of muggleborns) summary; his entire life, draco had it drilled into him that anything to do with muggles was bad- impure, even. but after his father is imprisoned for life, he decides to venture into the muggle world- just as a temporary thing, of course

suggested by @tendous-pretty-hair !!

masterlist

"my baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like i'm brand new."

also i have fucking eras tour tickets!!!

—————————————————

Draco had found himself at an emotional stand-still ever since the Second Wizarding War - more specifically the events of the Battle of Hogwarts. After he had regrettably joined Voldemort's side in the mass fallout, only for him to lose anyway. He wasn't sentenced to any time in Azkaban, since it was deemed that he had been coerced into the situation, as backed up by his mother, who had been pardoned due to saving Harry Potter's life in the final moments. His father, however, would never feel the light of happiness again, caged away in the breeding ground of fear.

It wasn't that Draco missed Lucius all that much, in fact, quite the opposite. The time away from him had allowed him and Narcissa to grow closer, and also given him the opportunity to properly question and break down the beliefs that had been hammered into his head since infancy.

Eventually, he decided to step foot into unknown territory: muggle London. He had only ever been to the magic side of it before, but he had come to the realisation that living such a sheltered life was the reason he wound up another of Voldemort's slaves. That lifestyle would be no more.

He found himself stood outside of a small music store, displayed to have vinyls, CDs and cassette tapes inside - whatever they were. Draco did know what music was, however, and wanted to understand the way that muggles experienced it. So, he stepped foot into the shop with the tinkling of a tiny silver bell above him alerting whoever was working behind the tall overflowing shelves.

There were more people perusing the shelves than he had anticipated, so he ducked his head down and headed to an emptier area of the shop. As he began scanning the labels on the shelves, his confusion grew as he realised that he recognised none of the names.

"You don't look like a death metal fan," a voice to his left caught him by surprise, making him jump.

He turned around to have his eyes meet the gaze of a woman wearing an amused smile. You couldn't help but laugh slightly at his skittishness.

"Forgive me, but it's not everyday we have a man dressed in a perfectly ironed suit come and check out the works of Morbid Angel."

After his brain caught up to him, he said, "You work here?"

You nodded, "Family business - me and my mum."

Draco didn't reply to your statement, turning back to the shelves.

"You seem a little lost, first time in a music shop?"

"Uh- yeah," he said, "My family never played music growing up." That was a lie - the Malfoys had held many a musical event, however, they took the form of private orchestral bands.

"You're joking," your expression was that of shock, "How have you lived such a musicless life?"

He shrugged.

"God, I was practically raised on music- I mean, obviously," you gestured around you, "It's everything to me."

"My father was a very strict man," he said simply, making you hum.

"I see. God, I just can't believe you've hardly listened to music - we have to change that," you said, "Do you have any idea what sort of sounds you like?"

"I think I like classical music," it was all he had ever really known.

You grinned, "Yeah, that definitely suits the way you're dressed more than death metal. Come on, I'll set you up with some stuff. Vinyls, CDs or tapes?"

From what he could gather, vinyls were the larger circles, and he was pretty sure that Malfoy Manor had a phonograph with the large brass tube attached for the purpose of playing them. Like the one he saw at the Yule Ball all those years ago. "Uh, vinyl? The big black disc?"

You bobbed your head, "They're becoming less popular these days - people mostly want CDs," you then paused for a moment, "Although my mum said they'll probably have a resurgence in another twenty years. Making an aesthetic of past trends and all that."

Draco listened curiously as you babbled on about different musicians, bands, and albums, finding himself enraptured by the way you carried yourself. Salazar, his father would throw a fit if he found out that he was willingly talking to a muggle.

But his father wasn't there.

"So, do any of these interest you?" you finished, smiling at the ever stoic man before you.

"Uh, yes- all of them," he wasn't sure if he liked the music genre you suggested or the way you talked so passionately.

"All of them?" you tilted your head, "That's- like- hundreds of pounds."

He began digging around in his pockets for the money he had exchanged earlier before coming, and your eyes widened at the sight of all the twenty pound notes.

"Right," you said in a state of shock, "I'll... ring these up for you."

As you totalled up the price and packaged the vinyls into a bag over at the till, the man watched you, as if he was meticulously detailing your every move. Weirdly, it didn't feel creepy.

"Okay that will be... £404.39," you said, in awe of the fact he seemed unfazed by the number.

He began counting out the notes, before handing them over to you: £420 worth of twenty pound notes in your hand. You counted the change out and handed it back to him, placing the receipt in the bag.

"Thank you for shopping here, come again..." you trailed off, realising you didn't know his name.

"Draco," he said, stopping himself before saying his last name. Although he knew that you wouldn't recognise it anyway.

You couldn't help but think that he had a peculiar name; regardless, you smiled, and said, "Y/N. Please come again."

He nodded, taking the bag and leaving the shop swiftly without so much as looking back once.

***

A week passed by and Draco found himself stood outside of the record shop, unsure of why he had returned. During his last visit he had purchased months worth of music, so really he had no need to be back.

Except, he did.

His social circle had been non-existent ever since the Battle of Hogwarts, not because Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott no longer wanted to be friends with him, but because he had isolated himself in Malfoy Manor with his mother. Draco was nearing being ready to owl them again, but reconnecting with them meant inevitably having to unpack the events of the war.

With a muggle stranger like you, however, there was no unpacking to do.

"Draco, you're back," you grinned, coming out from behind the till, "I was hoping you would."

"Why?"

His abrupt question caught you off guard, "Well, I- I don't know. You're an interesting character," that and you thought he was cute.

Draco stared blankly at you, making you shift uncomfortably on your feet. Eventually, you decided to change the subject.

"Here for more music?"

"Oh, uh- yes."

"Well, what were your favourites from last week's purchases?"

After he told you which ones he had enjoyed the most, you were able to develop some kind of idea as to specific kinds of music to indulge him into. Of course, you had a question burning at the back of your mind that you simply had to ask.

"If you don't mind me asking, what do you do for a living?"

He looked up at you with slightly furrowed eyebrows.

"It's just- vinyls aren't cheap, especially not in as large a quantity as you get them," you elaborated, "I assume you have a well paying job."

Draco sighed, shaking his head, "Family money."

"You mean old money?" you couldn't help but clarify.

He reluctantly nodded, "Yes, old money." He used to be so boastful and prideful of the Malfoy family legacy, but in that moment, despite you having no idea who he was, he could only feel shame when he thought of it.

"Okay, Mr. Fancy," you chuckled, "Let's continue your musical adventure."

Even as you proceeded to serve him with a chipper attitude, you couldn't help but be saddened by learning that he was old money. There was no way that you stood a chance, since old money families liked to marry each other and not someone who was simply the daughter of a small record shop.

At least you learned that piece of information about him early on, you reasoned.

***

"Back? Again?" you questioned incredulously, spying Draco stood in the doorway of your shop, "Hate to turn you away, but we're about to close."

"I know."

You paused, frowning slightly as you grasped hold of the door, "Uh, okay, then... bye?" You began slowly shutting the door.

"Wait."

Again, you paused.

"I need help."

Opening the door fully again, you placed a hand on your hip as you said, "With regards to what?"

You didn't know what to think when he presented a small battered flip phone to you on his milky white palm.

"A phone?"

"I found it. On the floor."

"Musta fell outta someone's pocket," you shrugged, "Happens - why do you need help?"

"Well, don't we need to do something about it?"

All you could do was look at him curiously.

"Is that not- is that not what you do?" maybe he was overcompensating for his past by trying desperately to do one small good deed, or maybe he was trying to prove to you that he was a good person even though you had no reason to believe otherwise. Either way, he wanted to return the muggle contraption to its rightful owner.

"I mean- I guess? If you're feeling nice," you said simply, "Can't lie, I'd probably leave it for someone else to deal with."

"How do I return it?"

You sighed, "Just call the last person they called."

"Right, okay."

Much to your confusion, Draco stared at the device as if he was trying to will it into doing what he wanted.

"You do know how to call someone, yes?" you asked, your arms now folded across your chest.

With a sigh of defeat, he shook his head.

You rolled your eyes, stepping aside, "Come in."

Once Draco was inside your shop, you shut the door and flipped the sign from 'open' to 'closed'.

"Give it," you made a grabbing motion with your fingers, and the man before you immediately handed over the device, "It's really easy-" he watched in amazement as you flipped open the phone, "-just use the arrow buttons here to go to call history- and, oh, look! Last person they called was their mum- press the green call button and bam."

You presented the now dialling phone to him.

"They have been notified now?"

"Well, her phone will be ringing- hopefully she'll pick up."

"Pick up?"

"Hello?" a voice from the phone announced, "Cadie?"

"Hello, ma'am, your daughter dropped her phone and we found it."

"Oh, I see. Thank you- I'll let her know so she can pick it up. Where's a good place?"

As you told the concerned mother the address of your record shop, you watched Draco's intrigued expression.

You hung up, placing the phone on a nearby surface and beginning to walk to the back room, "Would you like some tea?" you asked.

He stared blankly at you for a few moments, before nodding, "Please."

"How do you take it?"

"No milk, one sugar."

You chuckled to yourself at his strange way of having tea.

***

Draco watched you as you chatted mindlessly while sipping your tea, almost entirely forgetting that he had his own cup sat to his side. Your topics were classically boring - yet so interesting to him. He was enthralled to learn about the different characters in your family, and the trials and tribulations of your school years. He hadn't even realised how little he had said until you pointed it out.

"What about you?"

"Hm?" he went, snapping out of his daze.

"I feel like I've just been talking about myself this entire time. Where did you go to school?"

"Oh- uh-" he desperately pulled together all his thoughts, "A private boarding school in Scotland."

Your mouth dropped open, "Wow, that's cool."

He shrugged.

"Did you miss your family while you were away all year?"

Again, he shrugged, "My mother, yes- my father... not so much."

"I don't see my father at all," you added, to make him feel more comfortable about sharing details of his own father, "I used to... but I realised it was always me reaching out and not him so I stopped. Haven't heard from him since."

Draco nodded, "My father is in prison."

He didn't know why he told you, only realising what he had just said when you froze for a few seconds with widened eyes.

"Can I ask what for?" you asked in a squeaky voice.

"Uh... terrorism, murder... that sort of thing," he had no clue why he was being so honest. Had you put veritaserum in the tea?

You cleared your throat, wanting to delicately change the subject but lacking a way on how to do it naturally. Draco observed you, and opened his mouth to say something more when a knock sounded on the door.

"That's- uh- that's probably the phone owner," you said quickly, rushing to your feet to run out of the back room and let them in.

You opened the door to be faced with a short brunette woman.

"Cadie?" you questioned.

She nodded, "You have my phone?"

"Yes, come in."

"Thank you so much- I really can't afford a new one right now," she sighed, "I'm always losing things."

You chuckled, "I know how you feel- I'm always breaking things."

Draco appeared in the doorway to the back and picked up the phone from the counter.

Cadie sighed happily, accepting the phone and thanking the both of you profusely.

"Seriously, you have no idea how appreciative I am."

"It's no trouble, Cadie, really," you assured her.

She paused for a moment, looking around. "Is this your shop?"

You bobbed your head, "Yes, it's family-owned."

"Oh, that's so cool," she looked towards Draco, "So this is your husband?"

You were so taken aback you couldn't even form a response. Before either of you could reply, the phone began ringing.

"It's my boss! I have to take this," she said, "Thank you so much again. You two are a cute couple." And with that final comment, she departed, leaving you and Draco in an awkward silence.

"I-" you began, but you were quickly interrupted.

"Go on a date with me," Draco hurriedly said, realising he had said it like an order rather than an innocent question. He was still in some ways his old bossy teenage self, socialised in a slightly abnormal way.

You took it in good humour, however, and smiled, "I would love to."

***

The following six months were filled with the fanciest and most luxurious dates that you could ever have possibly imagined: five star restaurants, weekends in Paris, and expensive gifts. It was heaven in all ways but one - Draco always had an excuse for you not meeting his family and friends.

For a while, you had ignored the itching feeling that he was ashamed of you and so kept you a secret, but your suspicions grew until you couldn't keep it in anymore. You had to confront him about it.

"...and I was thinking, we should go out for dinner with your mother," you said, flicking through a magazine as Draco sat on the sofa in your small but homely flat.

"When?" he asked.

"Whenever's good for her."

You heard Draco's breath hitch.

"What? Can't come up with an excuse to get out of this one?" your tone held evident bite.

Draco turned around to face you, but his expression was unreadable.

"Are you ashamed of me, Draco?"

His eyes widened.

"I know I'm not rich, let alone old money, but I'd like to think that I'm a likeable person."

He shook his head, "It's not that-"

"Then what is it, Draco?" you snapped, feeling tears fill up your eyes, "You won't even introduce me to your friends! How am I supposed to feel?"

He stood up and began shifting on his feet and fidgeting with his hands, "It's more complicated than that."

"What? You're engaged to someone else?"

Again, he shook his head, "No, nothing like that."

"Then what?" you waved your hands about, "Because I can't date someone who treats me like a secret."

"You wouldn't believe me!" he yelled, clearly unintentionally.

You were shocked: you had never heard him yell before. "Try me," you said, your voice low.

He sighed, moving around helplessly for a few moments before striding over to his bag by your front door. He reached his hand in - what appeared to be deeper than the bag's actual depth, but you dismissed it due to your blurred vision - and pulled out a blank piece of paper, tinged brown.

He came over to you and placed it on the kitchen island you were stood behind, and pointed at the bottom of the page. "Sign here."

"It's blank," you thought he was insane.

"Just trust me. Please."

You gave him a skeptical look, but wiped your eyes and picked up a pen nonetheless, writing your signature in the area he pointed to. To your amazement, the second you finished the last letter of your name, writing appeared on the paper. As you scanned it, you were increasingly confused.

- By signing this non-disclosure agreement, you agree that as a muggle you shall not disclose the existence of wizardry and witchcraft to anyone not already in knowledge of it. You understand that by doing so, you would be breaking the law and could face potential criminalisation. The wizard or witch of whom has vouched for your approval to know of magic shall also face potential criminalisation in such a situation.

It will no longer be a criminal offence for wizards and witches to perform magic with you as a witness unless there are unapproved muggles also present.

You will be granted access to wizard-only areas including but not limited to Diagon Alley and Platfrom Nine and Three Quarters at King's Cross provided that you are accompanied by a wizard or witch. Please be aware that these permissions may vary in other countries depending on their laws surrounding muggle knowledge of magic and also their acceptance of the British Muggle Non-Disclosure Agreement.

Please sign your name below. -

"What is this?" you asked, your eyebrows furrowed.

"An NDA."

"Yes, I- I gathered that- but- what does it mean?"

"It means... that I'm a wizard."

Part of you wanted to burst out laughing at Draco's insane words, but the way he said it held so much depth that you couldn't help but take it seriously.

"Prove it."

You didn't know what you had expected, but you certainly didn't anticipate your boyfriend pulling out a wand and muttering what sounded like Latin under his breath.

The pen on the table before you morphed into a feather.

There were really no words to describe how you felt in that moment. You asked him to do it again - he turned the feather into a sharpener. You asked him to do it one more time - he turned the sharpener into a fork.

"Oh my God," you said at the volume of a whisper, stepping back and falling against the counter behind you, "What the actual fuck."

"I know this may come as a shock to you..."

"Really?" you said, "No, actually. Not freaking out at all. Not even a little."

He pursed his lips, "My family is what is known as pure-bloods. We haven't mixed with muggles when it comes to reproduction at any point in our bloodline - allegedly."

You stared at him.

"Sometimes, a witch or wizard can be born of muggle parents - we call them muggle-borns. Half-bloods make up the most of wizarding society - their ancestors are a mix of muggle, muggle-born, pure-blood and half-blood."

At your lack of speech, he continued.

"There is a culture of supremacy among pure-blood families - choosing to reproduce only with other pure-bloods to ensure the pure-blooded line continues as they believe themselves to be the only true witches and wizards."

"You're pure-blood," you mumbled.

Draco nodded, "I used to think like that. Used to bully muggle-borns in school - the school I went to being specifically for witches and wizards."

"You don't think like that anymore?"

"No," he quickly said, "I've had a lot of time to question everything I was taught to believe - but, I- there's something really bad I have to tell you. It may change your opinion of me forever and it's the reason why I have kept you away from my family and friends."

You nodded, mentally preparing yourself for what he was about to tell you.

"Years ago, there was a war in the wizarding world..." he began.

***

You had never seen Draco in tears before, but when he reached the details of the final showdown between Harry Potter (a heroic celebrity in the wizarding world) and Lord Voldemort (a wizard terrorist), he broke down in sobs as he recalled him walking over to the latter's side. Tears were falling down your cheeks soon too, and you quickly brought Draco into your arms and felt him collapse into you.

"I regret it every single day," he said through sobs, "Why didn't I have more of a backbone?"

"You were just a boy, Draco," you soothed him, "You didn't want your family to be killed."

He cried harder.

"My opinion of you is not changed - by the sounds of it you never actually killed anyone yourself," you thought back to the Professor Dumbledore section of the story, "In fact, it sounds like you couldn't bring yourself to."

"I can never make up for my past, Y/N."

You stroked his hair, "You dating a muggle is pretty solid evidence you're trying to."

"I'm not dating you because you're muggle," he pulled back from you and looked you in the eyes.

You chuckled slightly, wiping the tears off his cheeks with your thumbs, "That's not what I was saying. Young you would have never even considered entering the muggle world, and yet here adult you is."

He gave you a small smile, "I love you."

You beamed, but teardrops were still cascading down your cheeks, "I love you too."

"Let's have dinner with my mother on Sunday."

***

"Mr Malfoy, you may see your father now," the Azkaban worker said, who Draco couldn't help but think reminded him strongly of Filch. An old miserable man with long scraggly hair, an unmissable limp, and filthy dark-coloured robes. Then again, at least this worker had a reason to be miserable all the time: working in the breeding ground of fear and desolation. Filch was by all means in a much more cheerful environment.

Draco nodded at him, and followed his lead down shadowed narrow corridors, caked in dirt and dust. They turned a few corners and went up a few sets of dangerously steep stairs before reaching a cell block with moans and whines coming from every cell - except one.

In all honesty, Draco hadn't known what to expect when he came to see his father: he hadn't visited once since his arrest. But Lucius looked quite different than the proud man he once was, with his once well-kept long blond hair being knotty and entwined with filth, and his once healthy (albeit pale) complexion being overly skinny with sallow sunken features. He looked up at his son, still being able to produce a slight scowl.

"So, you finally decided to visit," he drawled, but his voice was too broken to hold the same threat it used to.

"Yes, father, I have some things I need to say to you," despite Lucius' weakened state, Draco still held some lifelong fear of the man, but he had to remain strong in front of him.

"And what would that be?"

"I have a girlfriend, and I plan to propose to her."

Lucius raised an eyebrow, "Your mother has not mentioned this," Narcissa frequently visited her husband.

"She didn't find out until last week."

After some seconds of silence, Lucius slowly rose to his feet and stood face-to-face with Draco at the cell gate. "What is her name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"L/N does not ring a bell. Which bloodline is she from?"

Draco felt intimidated by his father's close proximity, but still managed a smirk, "She isn't of pure blood, Father."

Lucius' eyes widened, "You don't mean to say she's- half blood? Or worse- a- a mudblood?"

"Worse," his smirk grew, "She's muggle."

The ghostly shock that flooded over Lucius' face made Draco feel a triumph over his father he had never felt before, and gave him the confidence to feel as though he had the upper hand in their interaction. He stepped closer to the cell and lowered his voice.

"And I'm going to marry her, and have children with her, and you will have to spend the rest of your life rotting in this cell knowing that the Malfoy pure blood line has been permanently tainted."

"You can't do this," Lucius said through gritted teeth, "After everything we fought for."

Draco hummed, "See, I thought it was time for me to finally fight for something good."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 02/06/2023 —> 17/07/2023 published; 17/07/2023 edited; —/—/——

taglist ; @workinatdapyramid @iluvweasleys

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basiatlu · 8 months

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Supernova ✨

Based off the fic Red Wine Supernova by @mono-chromia which in turn is inspired by the song (same title) “Red Wine Supernova” by Chappel Roan - a banger you need to listen to at least once.

#fell in love with the thought of you #now I’m choked up face down burnt out #red wine supernova #drarry #draco malfoy #harry potter #she’s gorg darling #harry potter art #muggle au #boshspice #fishnets #art #drawing #illustration #sketch #artists on tumblr #doodle #boshdraws

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slytherizz · 4 months

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Sebastian Sallow with a Muggle Significant Other Headcanons

Co-authored by @diligentcranberry

Sheepish as he is to admit it, until he met them, Sebastian always felt rather bad for muggles and their lack of magic.

Being rather shocked initially when he realised that this captivating person who has caught his attention is, in fact, not a wizard/witch at all yet they're so bright and clever he is fascinated by them.

Scheming of ways to get around the statute of secrecy when they're first together because being limited from magic in front of them at first feels like torture.

And he wants to impress them and open them up to all these amazing things he knows.

But the more time he spends with them discussing mythology, history, art, and all manner of things challenging his mind in new ways, that need for magic lessens.

Seb, who realises it may not be the magic he craves but the intellectual stimulation from learning and debating.

Initially baffled by their muggle habits and how long everything takes.

Seb who realises how when his partner does something as simple as brewing a cup of tea for him it takes so much more effort, but he swears it makes it taste better.

Sebastian, whose love language is acts of service and wants to take care of the people he loves.

Starts doing things for them the muggle way and expressing that love in the labour of it a flick of a wand can't replicate.

Relishes how heavy their bags are when he insists on carrying them. How their skin puckers when they wash dishes together. How long the journey is when travelling by train and not by floo and all this time they get just to talk and be with eachother.

Experiencing life in a completely different rhythm, he always thought he'd find tedious, but doing it together makes even the mundane seem spectacular.

Sebastian who loves magic and continues to pour over spell books, but his partner opens his eyes to this whole vast world of topics he never knew anything about, and his mind is blown.

He's inhaling anything he can get his hands on science, technology, engineering, and muggles are achieving these incredible things without magic he's not even seen wizards accomplish.

21 year old Seb in 1896 reading a muggle newspaper his partner passes him one morning and finding out about X-rays and radium and he's nothing short of giddy.

Kissing his bemused partner spinning them around wildly because muggles are bloody brilliant and they are the most spectacular of the bunch.

Sebastian who starts using magic less and less at home because his partner makes it seem frivolous.

This has come from mine and Cran's very niche Henry Winters (the secret history) x Sebastian Sallow (Hogwarts Legacy) AU but I think a lot of the headcannons we've been gushing over work for Seb x Muggle!SO regardless.

I'd literally love to hear any other headcannons on this because we have been consumed and loving talking about these.

#Henry x Seb brainrot hitting hard #this niche fucking au owns me mind body and soul #if anyone has read the secret history please come hit up me and cran #i love my big bi murderous boys #also seb in the 80s is just a vibe #sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy headcanons #sebastian sallow headcanons #sebastian sallow x muggle

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yrluvjane · 11 months

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𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - After a coincidental encounter, James takes interest in one of his employees. 》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who didn't know the Potters, especially when they owned everything. From banks, houses, and yachts to mansions, planes, and private islands. The family was known for its wealth and power. Almost ten generations have come since their fortune was assigned and now they’ve reached the point in being one of the richest and influential families in Europe.

And it wasn’t every day James Potter, the only living heir, walked into a diner where he would only be served greasy fries and pizza. His perfectly tailored designer clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb no matter where he sat.

Sat on a table at the far end of the room, with a relaxing book in his hands and a steaming cup of black coffee on the table; James Potter’s eyes wandered from word to word and line to line, finding peace in between the letters. His eyes would raise temporarily every time the hanging door bells jingled to check if his company had arrived.

Despite the loud noise of chatter, the diner was mostly empty, only six tables were taken. The sudden and loud laughs of a group of women disrupted his reading, and James involuntarily swung his head towards them, confusion and curiosity swirling in his eyes.

There, by the booths, sat a group of five girls all cheering loudly for their friend. James guessed that the woman they were cheering for was engaged, his eyes slightly squinted at the lady as she displayed her hand on the table for everyone to see.

It's not long before he realizes he’s not the only one looking at them; an elderly couple next to him, smiled fondly at the ladies and laughed together after a few short-whispered words.

“Mr. Potter,” He blinked, refocusing his attention on the voice. He raised his head and found himself facing a young man in a wrinkled suit and skewed slim tie who was staring at him with a disturbingly wide smile. “An honor to have you here, truly.”

“Thank you.” James responded blankly hoping to return to his book as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention from other diners, but it seemed as though the man did not comprehend James’ annoyance and instead decided to invite himself at James’ table.

“My name is also James,”

The Potter one sent the man a tight-lipped smile. “I own this place, it’s actually my dad’s but I managed to sway him into giving it to me. So, yeah.” At that, the man had finally stopped talking and stared at James as though he was expecting the man to hand him an award and at James awkwardly silent response, the man threw his head back and laughed loudly.

James narrowed his gaze at the man from behind his glasses and levelled him with a silent look of judgement. Though James did not speak any words his eyes expressed his feelings towards the man perfectly. And this time the man was able to clearly make out James' unpleasant impression of him. "Not a man of many words, got it.”

“I’ll leave you to it then!” The other James said hesitantly, “If you need anything, and I mean anything I am right here!” The manager stood up and winked at him as he left.

James sighed tiredly as the man’s voice faded and had finally vanished from his view. It was not that James was rude, it was the fact he did not appreciate people trying to sway him while he was having one of his very rare moments of peace.

His life has always been open to the public, from press conferences and social events to having people stalk him to his home. And though James would have seemed rude he didn’t think the twenty-something year old boy would have anything to say that was worth listening to.

James would rather have this limited time to hear his own thinking without having everyone train their eyes on him and bug him with their opinions of his every thought.

And not a few minutes later, the door swung open once more, ringing the bells and allowing a cold breeze to flow in. James’ eyes followed the jingles as he raised his cup of coffee to his lips and when his eyes trained on the silhouette he was met with a surprising feeling of familiarity.

His hold on his book loosened, and he gently put the cup back on the saucer. He leaned back on his chair and narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to make out where he could’ve seen her. By the style and quality of her clothes, he doubted they had worked together. And even if she wore something less normal, there weren’t many acquaintances he knew that would step into anything like this diner.

He let his eyes follow the lady’s figure all the way to the celebrating group of women, all of whom started beckoning her over once they saw her. The closer she was to them the clearer she became. Under the small restaurant’s soft yellow glow, he could finally notice her blue jumper and black trousers. She waved to her friends and walked to them, a black coat hanging from her arm.

Once she took a seat, she scanned the place; freezing once she laid eyes on him. Her eyes widened, blinking owlishly, staring at him with parted lips. She recognized him, yet he still couldn't make sense of who she was. A reporter? An ex? Maybe an assistant? An employee? His mind raced with possibilities and theories trying to guess or at least sense where he’d met her.

As time passes at the speed of a turtle, he can feel the young woman’s gaze at him from afar. Every few minutes or so she turns to him as though she’s expecting something to happen; he doesn’t dare look back but he does catch her eye once. He turns to his side, slightly annoyed and faces her, staring unashamedly.

Her face of curiosity morphs into one of embarrassment, and James finds himself breaking their little contest when the door swings back open again and his friend walks in, waving at James from across the room. He shoots the girl one last look but this time, it’s her back that’s facing him.

A week later, James is sitting on a lounge chair by the pool, hoping to get some work done. The sun shone brightly above him, and despite there being cool winds breezing by, James’ clothes still stuck to his skin through a layer of sweat.

“Mr. Potter,” Anders, the Potter's head butler, calls. James faces him, scrunching his face against the sun's rays and smiles.

“Yes, Anders?”

“I have Miss Page on the phone.” He states with a sympathetic smile, handing him the black land phone. James sighed, getting up and taking the phone, he sighs one more time, this time at his assistant’s name on the small screen. “Margret?”

“James! I called six times!” She exclaims, and he can hear the distracting background noises of ringing phones, chattering and pointy heels undoubtedly belonging to the woman on the phone. ”My phone isn’t with me.” James says after shuffling some papers and looking for it. “Why? Why would you not have your phone around you at all times? I mean, what if an emergency happens? Do I have to wait for Anders to pick up the phone after four rings?”

“Marge? I’m kind of busy here, too.” He says into the phone, stretching his legs by pacing around the large pool. The sun shines on the water so brightly that James has to have on his sunglasses just to not be blinded by the reflecting sparkles of light.

“Well you should thank me. I had the meeting on Tuesday postponed to Thursday, just like you asked. Then, I have Patrick bothering me about Jackson Mills. Things are heavy James, especially now with election season so close.”

“I’ll call Jackson today—”

“Great!” She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

James chuckles softly as she moves on to the next thing on her list. Margret was a wonder truly, but don't be fooled she was direct and pointed as her heels.

“You have dinner at 6:30 on Wednesday with Delilah’s parents,” and for the next few moments the line is silent, “I can always tell them you got into a car crash, if you’d like?” She suggests, her voice much clearer now as the background noises fade out. “No, no, my parents have been pestering me about this for weeks, I might as well get it over with. Marge, the report for the new expansion project is on my desk, have Carter send them to me, please.”

There's a sound of shuffling papers before Margaret's voice appears once more, "It will be with you in 30 minutes."

As she continues, James looks down at his shoes in weariness, sighing, before raising his head up once more; movements by the bushes catch his eyes. He walks over to the end at the end of the pool, where he suspects the gardeners are working, his brows furrowing as he gets closer.

And when he finally reaches the fence, his lips parted in amusement and chuckles at the scene in front of him.

“James?”

“Sorry, Marge, you were saying,” James says, barely listening. His arms are leaned over the black fence that separates the pool from the gardens. There, on the ground, sat the woman from the restaurant. Her uniform was all muddy and stained with dirt and grass, her hair was pushed up in a messy up-do that was somehow being held up with a fork.

James laughs.

“Marge, I’ll call you later.” He says, cutting her off as he ends the call and stares at the woman. At the sound of his amusement, the young lady faced him with a perplexed expression. “Mr. Potter,” She addresses, eyes wide and strands of hair falling over her face. She huffs and fails to push them back with her arm. ”I’m so sorry for bothering you.” She said, “I can leave if you’d like. I’m done anyway.”

“No, no, there’s no need to leave.” He states, his eyes focus on her uniform, a question forming in his head. “May just ask, why are you working in the gardens if you're supposed to be working in the kitchens?” He asked, and he watched her squint her eyes and shade her view with with her arm.

“Tony, the usual gardener, his daughter, got in an accident. And since I’m done with my work, l told him I could take over while he went to see her in the hospital. I do hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. But why not just call another one of the gardeners?”

“I…didn’t think of that.” She said, biting her lips and narrowing her eyes. “Mmmh,” James hummed, “So what is it you're doing exactly?”

“Oh I’m just potting these!” She said, pointing towards a bush of pinkish flowers. “Looks great.” He commented blankly.

“Think so? I’ve never done this before.” She pointed, getting on the ground once more.

“In the end of the day it’s them being judged, not your…limited knowledge in gardening.” He said and studied the woman as she laughed. “Oh you should see the Gardenia’s they've put by the gates! They’re gorgeous!”

“Do you like Gardenia’s?” He asks and takes off his shades as the clouds begin to cage the sun. He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back loose curls. “They are very pretty.” She notes, and James foresees the incoming 'but'.

“– But not enough to be your favorite?” He finishes and she looks at him and shakes her head smiling. “I can’t pick at all. They’re all so beautiful.”

“You seem to know a lot about flowers but so little of gardening?”

“When I was younger, my neighbor gave me a flower book. It had the names of the flowers and when they bloomed, and where they bloomed. That's all it said. ” She shares, "I didn't really have much to do as a child, so I took on reading. I enjoyed it for a while."

James squinted his eyes at her. Curiosity blooming in his chest. Taking a step back from the fence, he pointed towards his pool with his thumb. "What would you put here?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, confused.

"The pool seems kind of bland, doesn't it? It's all plain and boring. We can do better."

"Oh," she asks and stands back up to look onto his side of the fence. James took the opportunity to clearly look at the woman as she dusted her knees and skirt of grass. She was pretty, that was quite clear. But it didn’t make that much of a difference to James; after all he’s had his share of beautiful women every now and then.

She walked forward and leaned on the fence, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. It was a lot more welcoming and relaxing than the smell of chlorine the pool gave off.

His studied her face, her focused eyes, her bitten lips, and even the small hairs failing to be held up. "....You could go for the classics and pick some roses?"

He arched a brow at her, and she pursed her lips in response before facing the pool once more. "Angel's Trumpet?"

"Aren't they poisonous to the touch?" He asked, leaning back on the fence and giving her his most charming smile. "Right, I forgot about that." She mutters, biting the inside of her cheek, James smiles at her embarrassed expression.

She shifts from one foot to the other. James catches her fidgeting fingers and instantly feels bad for making her uncomfortable. He stands up straight as a frown takes on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put this on you. It's not your job,"

"Oh no, it's fine, really. I... Oh! What about Daylilies?" She asked. James looked at her in thought, "What flower would be on all your top favorites lists?" She tilted her head in thought, her arms falling to lean on the fence as she fixed her gaze on the pool.

"Jasmine's." She stated as she looked at him. Suddenly aware of how their elbows are touching and how small the space between them is, James's smile turned to a light smirk.

It seemed that she noticed cause soon enough she coughed and took a step back, apologizing. "It's fine." James replied. His eyes wandered over her figure one last time before putting a hand out. "James."

She stared at his hand as though she believed it might bite her. She looked at him, then his hand, and took a step forward, pushing her hand out and introducing herself. “An honor.”

“The honor is all mine.” James says, holding her hand in care as he raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He watched her face break into a smile before she bit the inside of her cheek and faced James with a raised brow. James only smiled in return.

He wasn’t sure why but this woman had definitely caught his attention. “I should probably get going.” She said and leaned down to grab the leftover equipment and gave a hesitant wave.

“Good Bye” James said, waving back and watched as she disappeared behind the greenery of the gardens.

The next day you woke up with a striking headache and the usual urge to fall right back into bed. It took at least 10 minutes to finally convince the rest of your body that it would be for the best to get up.

And you eventually did, after having a nice warm shower to soothe your back and warm you against the coldness of your bathroom, you dressed in your everyday clothes and quickly made your way to the local farmer’s market, in hopes of getting there early.

The most distinctive smell was that of Olive oil, it filled the air and the closer you got the easier it was to make out the strong scent of spices. It was 9:15, the farmers were set up and there was a respectful amount of families and people buying fresh groceries. It didn’t take long for you to grab your things, as you’ve been coming here for years you were practically a usual so most of your orders were pre-ordered and all you had to do is pick them up.

By 10 you were outside the large black gates to the estate, a golf car awaited your arrival as to drive to the main doors, you never really understood why there was around a mile from the gates to the Manor. “Thanks, Robert!” You said, grabbing the bags and running up the steps to the front doors of the service enterance. Anders swung the door open just as you reached the last step.

“Morning, Anders.” You greeted me with a smile.

“Good Morning, Miss —” He was cut off with four men entering the large foyer. You trailed your eyes over their uniform, a dirt-stained grey jumpsuit with a green flower logo on their chest. ‘Gardens?’ You mouthed at the older man, he nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Fretman, if you will follow me, please.”

You snickered at Anders' tone of exasperation as he guided the men out. You managed to side-stepped all the priceless furniture that was in your way to the kitchens and it was no easy task. It was more like an obstacle course, especially with your sense of sight being blocked off by overly filled brown paper bags.

Potter Estate was the definition of over the top.

The Manor consisted of 16 guestrooms, 24 bathrooms, 2 kitchens, an indoor pool, an indoor sauna and jacuzzi, a music room, 2 library’s, the theatre room, a sewing room, 4 offices, a wine cellar and an attic, with lord knows what in it.

The outside was even grander, there was the stables, the shooting range, the lake yards of grass and fancy gardens, the greenhouse (Which no one really sat in except Mrs. Potter whenever she visited), the outdoor pool, the garage and lastly the old stable house (Which, according to Anders, was turned into a "bat cave" by Mr. Potter Sr. for his son and his friends when they were younger.)

You made your way to the end of the west wing, pushing the large oak door open with your feet and sliding in. The evident silence came as a surprise, you would’ve expected to hear shouting, yelling, arguing, the sounds of slamming cupboards and chopping knives, something. But it was completely silent.

You placed the paper bags on the large kitchen island, which was three times the size of your bed and began sorting the fruits, vegetables and cheeses into the fridge and anything else in a cupboard. Once done, you threw the brown bags into a trash bin before washing your hands.

Your mind wandered away, wondering what might have happened to the rest of the crew. You huffed and wondered if you should look for them or not. Maybe they all got sick? But they were all fine yesterday. They were called somewhere else? Anders would have told you to join them. You took a look around and pushed your hair back with a headband and slipped on a hair net. You took one hesitant look around hoping someone would walk in but after a long and silent minute of you leaning on the marble table, gazing at the overly decorated door, you turned your gaze away from the entrance.

You shuffled from one cupboard, pulling all sorts of ingredients; flour, egg, sugar, vanilla , everything you needed to make a batch of cinnamon buns. And in a few moments you had already begun the first step, humming as you kneaded the dough, gently folding it between your hands and letting it rest for a while after you had declared it ready. You moved to preset the oven and a small red bulb lit up as you twisted the knob, signaling it was on.

You yawned and your vision blurred as your eyes teared up from sleepiness, you really needed to get a better sleep schedule. Brushing the tears away with your arms, you pushed yourself up, putting aside your weariness and walked back to your cooking station.

It was almost half an hour later, when the doors to the kitchen swung open and you smiled up at Anders as he walked over to you. You were practically done, he had walked in on you smearing the icing on the buns. “They’re fresh out of the oven! Try one!” You offered, cutting him a piece and plating it. “Here, you can top it with whatever you like.” You pointed towards the spread of different sauces and toppings on the table.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/n. And I do appreciate this but sadly I did not come here by my own means.” He says with a soft smile and you unconsciously wipe your hand on a cloth before facing the man with confusion. “Has something happened? Is that why everyone is absent? Does it have something to do with Tony’s daughter? Is she—”

“No, no, no. Mr. Willfard’s daughter is being treated for a broken arm and bruised sides, it’s been confirmed that she will make a full recovery.” He says and you smile gratefully, the worry inside of you lessening, still there but much more eased.

“And about the others, they were given a day off by Mr Potter.” He says and you freeze on the spot. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ and since we are on the topic. Mr. Potter has sent me to inform you that he is expecting you by the pool.”

Your eyes widened and so did your mouth, silent movements of your lips were targeted at Anders out of shock. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter? As in James Potter?”

“Are you acquainted with any other ‘James Potter’s?”

“No.” You answered hastily as you your mind racked to why he would want to speak with you and at the top of your head, and like a blaring siren, yesterday’s events shone. “Was he happy when he asked you to call me? Did he ask it in a ‘I just want to talk’ way or more of a ‘I’m going to fire you’ tone.” You asked and you instantly felt smaller under the blank and unimpressed expression Anders gave you.

“If you will follow me – What are you doing?” Anders asks, his brows furrowing and lips frowning. “Plating these! They must be served warm or else they’re not as delicious.” You whisper, rushing around just as quick the thoughts in your head.

He sighs and leans his hands on the table, watching as you took your time to gently pick each roll and delicately place them on a large plate.

Once you're done you move the dirty trays to the sink and wonder if you could buy yourself some time as you scrubbed the pans and dishes.

“Leave those and follow me. I’ll assign someone to do them later.” Anders says and you can’t help but butt in, “But everyone took the day off! Except me.” You mutter the last part in a harsh whisper and sigh, accepting defeat. You grabbed one of the pastry-filled tray and angrily hand it to the butler before grabbing the others.

It almost feels like forever as you followed Anders, your fingers were nervously tapping the silver platter. You took deep breaths and purposely slowed your pace. Anders didn’t even bother to look at you as he led you. You looked around you trying to make out where he’s taking you too. It came as a surprise when you had passed James' office but now you were completely out of the Manor.

“Anders, where are we going?” You asked, Anders didn’t turn to you but did slow down. “To the pool grounds.”

He was going to fire you. You admitted mentally. Should've kept your mouth shut! It is a known, unspoken rule that you should never share your opinions with rich people.

You should treat them like kids, don’t talk to them, don’t get in their squabbles and don’t tell them the truth cause it will make them pissed and emotional and then you will be forced to deal with their tantrums.

However you completely ignored that rule yesterday, when you shared your opinions with Potter of all people. Before you even reach the pool, you hear loud noises and shouts coming from its direction. One very distinctive voice was that of James Potter.

“Miss L/n.” Anders addressed and motioned for you to step ahead of him. You sighed and masked your face before climbing the short stair in quick steps.

The first person you were met with was James. He stood towering over a large group of men that were scattered across the pool yard. James’ is dressed in similar attire to yesterday’s clothing and you almost smile back when he turns to you with a grin. “Mr. Potter.” You greet with a strained tone, placing the tray of buns on a nearby table with harsh clack.

“Oh, how lovely. Anders, please pass them to the workers, will you? And please call me James. How’ve you been?” He asks, still smiling and you're not so sure of what to make of the man.

Anders agrees in his usual formal tone and you watch him with the corner of your eye as he picks up your tray and walks down over to the working men.

“I’m fine?” You reply hesitantly and thankfully he doesn’t notice your questioning tone.

“Well I’m glad. I’m sorry to strip you of your day off, I assure you, you can have tomorrow for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the man, you're quite confused and to add to it you almost feel ridiculous while speaking to him with his sunglasses on. “Take off the shades.” You order in a blank tone and you see James’ posture change as he takes a step back and pulls the accessory off. Before he can get the chance to speak, you cut in, “Are you going to fire me?” You ask, the smile completely wiped off your face. You narrow your eyes at the man and watch as he speaks to you in genuine surprise. “Why would I fire you?”

“Then why am I here?” You asked, your confidence slipping. “I’m not here to fire you,” he laughs, “I just wanted to show you this,” He explains motioning towards the pool. “...I’ve seen the pool before.” You say, this time your confusion is clearly plastered on your face. “I mean this.” He says and he guides to the side of the pool, where three men are potting some Jasmine’s. “You picked Jasmine’s?”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right?” He asked, and you faced him with a look of surprise. “You picked Jasmine’s cause they were one of my favorites?” The older man blushed and he faced you with wide eyes, “No! Yes, but not directly, I just picked them because I guessed they’d have to have been really nice flowers if they were on your favorites list.”

“Okay.” You said, still confused but you sighed and brushed it all away. James watched your face soften as you took a step closer to them. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” You ask, your eyes trained on the small, delicate, white petals of the flower. “Yeah…and they smell nice too.” You laugh, turning to face him as you lightly throw your head back. “Yeah, that too.” You agree watching a soft smile adorn his face.

“Here,” James says as he walks over behind a table, you watch lean down to grab something and your lips part in awe as he walks over to you with a pot of Jasmine’s. “Mr. Potter, I–” You’re in shock and happiness. They’re is a small sickening feeling in your stomach and you do your best to try and avoid it.

“A thank you,” He says. “And as I said earlier, it’s just James.”

《 NEXT PART 》

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss

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yendts · 5 months

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@gobstoneswithhector requested scorbus discovering video games so here’s a cozy night of video games in their pjs at the potter’s

#albus is Whipped!!!#captial W #you can’t even see albus’ green wyes with the heart highlight i added #scorpius is endlessly fascinated by muggle things and loves when he goes to the potters cause there’s always something new #one of the first scorbus drawings i was ever proud of was of them playing animal crossing so this feels like a nice call back to that #albus severus potter #scorpius malfoy #albus potter #scorbus #harry potter and the cursed child #harry potter #hp #the cursed child #malfoy #potter #the potters

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littlewinnow · 1 month

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Thanks for tagging me @orange-peony ! Its been a while since ive done this and i wanted to share some sketches!

Other than working away at drarry mini bang here’s a few rough wip sketches of drarry dads and silly drarry boob squish that I have in the background.

#drarry #me #myart #sketch sunday #i love love LOVE scorp and draco experience muggle things togetehr that fascinate them 😭

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teacup-gathering-itself · 7 months

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Wolfstar imagine where Sirius "Literally has Vanity in his Blood" Black loses it when Remus shows him his first muggle fashion magazine and sees the range of cosmetics.

Give me Sirius making a huge withdrawal from Gringotts in muggle currency, Remus saying "babe that's too much", but sighing and taking him to like... idk Sephora, and Sirius running up the craziest fucking bill at the makeup store.

Turns out he didn't withdraw too much, told you Moony.

They leave with a receipt so long it looks like they went to CVS. Fucking rich kids, what the fuck is this, you could buy a fucking car with this much money, Pads, what the hell.

Remus' rewards account that he made because there’s no way you’re just not getting the free points with this idiotic level of spending, you absolute clown, just use my number, don’t fucking waste them never runs out of points because it's the only phone number Sirius ever memorizes, and he always proudly says it to the cashiers.

Did you know they'll send physical catalogues to rich assholes who refuse to (or can’t) use the online catalogue? And that you can mail order parcels to a magical post distributor? Who transfers your mail to owls? And then your packages can reach Hogwarts? Remus knows, through his ridiculous fucking boyfriend who somehow keeps snagging those catalogues before he can burn them, Merlin knows how he can manage that but can't be bothered to finish his coursework, Pads. --Quit ruining my fun, Moony, I thought you liked ruining my makeup? Don't you like making a mess of me? Why do you hate joy?

They get gift baskets for being top spenders from both the store and from Sirius’ favorite individual brands. This is actually mortifying, Pads, stop laughing at me what the fuck even is this? What did they even send you? Christ.

#harry potter thoughts #harry potter imagine #harry potter #hp imagine #harry potter rant #harry potter marauders #marauders era #marauders imagine #marauders #sirius orion black #sirius being sirius #remus loves sirius #remus lupin #wolfstar #remus being remus #remus x sirius #muggle studies

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becky5203 · 3 months

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I know JKR is a terrible person and you won’t catch me defending her but making Harry’s best friends mirrors of his dead parents was a galaxy brained move if ever there was one.

#Ron opening up his home and his family to his abused and ignored best friend just like James did for Sirius??#the quidditch loving pure blood falling in love with the brainiac muggle born???#the game of cat-and-mouse style romance that took the two 7 years to finally get together and fall in love???#miss Joanne I hope you rot in hell but before you do you should know you ate that one little thing #romione #jily #ron x hermione #james x lily #ron weasley x hermione granger #james potter x lily evans #ron and hermione #james and lily #ron weasley and hermione granger #james potter and lily evans #harry potter #the wizarding world of harry potter #harry really took being a third wheel to a whole other level with those two

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arianatwycross · 2 months

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For @jilymicrofics March prompt 'Zealous':

Ask anyone else and they would say that James Potter and Lily Evans fell in love instantly.

Ask James and Lily and they would tell the story differently.

It was a glimpse of her that made him pay attention at first. A fleeting look that made his brain skip a thought.

It was a little faster for Lily. An introduction from a friend, watching him joke with his mates, the gleam in his eye, the infectious energy. It was all-consuming. But Lily didn't know what it meant at the time.

James would have been described as someone who wasn't interested in the opposite sex. He was too enthralled with the rush of football games and the adrenaline from boyish pranks to take notice of beautiful girls and how they could make you feel. He was oblivious to the gaggle of girls fawning over him in secondary school, always polite, a natural flirt but one to never go chasing someone.

Lily was different. She loved to crush on boys, loved the thrill she got when she grabbed their attention (even if for just a few seconds), she revelled in the small touches and the banter - chased it almost. Some explained Lily as zealous in the pursuit of love.

It was her second week at university. Her childhood best friend had enticed her to start their coursework while catching the last rays of the hot sun. Mary introduced Lily to James that day, and Lily was curiously intrigued, her eyes finding it hard to look away, her heart rate climbing rapidly.

James caught a glimpse of her in class the week before they were introduced. She was breath-taking, but James was easily distracted by his best mate and moved on.

The moment it changed for James was so unexpected he could only tell the story as the only time he tripped over his own heart. Ultimately, it was the sudden clench of surprise he felt when, a week later, he witnessed the beautiful girl he had just been introduced to being pressed up against his living room wall by a man who wasn't himself.

#jily microfic #jily #muggle au #the pursuit of love

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yumeurl · 2 months

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i love toms thought process like the guy just gets tunnel visioned alot. starts petrifying and even killing muggleborns and he just doesnt realize that the school will be shut down for the danger and incompetence and he will have to stay at his orphanage again. dont make him watch any series his hyperfixation will be detrimental to everyone involved including himself

#au where tom/voldy stops his power/death fixation cuz he had an even bigger fixation in a muggle series he accidentally stumbled to #idk the series i wasnt born in his era #i love him everything unrelated just disappears in his mind #hp #tom riddle #rambles

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beachylupin · 8 months

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I'd Have You Anytime || Remus Lupin x Muggle!Fem!Reader

i've risen from the dead just to finish and post this! i'm sorry for such the long wait everyone! but here it is! i'm hoping this is sufficient, but i personally love muggle!fem!reader, so she might make a comeback eventually. feedback is welcomed and appreciated! to preface: this part takes place near the first half/middle-ish of november part one (mb), part two (mb), moodboard for this part word count: 3.1k warnings: fluff!!!!!, pining, depression mess, maybe like three swear words

Not working for a week after the pub incident was a blessing in disguise. You were able to break down in silence with nobody secretly judging you. You stayed mainly in your bed, ignoring every phone call and worried message from Lily, James, and even Sirius. Some calls never came with a message, and you feared that it was Remus trying to reach you, so you decided to answer no calls at all.

It was quiet, but it was necessary.

By the end of the week, all your thoughts led to the same conclusion: you were horribly in love with Remus.

As stupid as it may seem, you had fallen for him, and you weren’t getting up anytime soon.

That’s why you acted rashly and left the pub crying. That’s why you shouted at him. You were terrified. Loving someone was a terrifying thing to do, especially when you didn’t really know them. You’d seen Remus twice, and surely that wasn't enough times to truly love someone.

But it strangely was, and you loved him.You knew it because he’s all you could think about. He plagued your thoughts. His face, his eyes, the scars: every part of him was constantly on your mind. Even his voice filled your mind even though you’ve talked to him maybe twice, and one of those times was yelling.

From the chill that ran down your spine when you first saw him, you knew he was the one. There was no doubting that.

Journaling seemed to help, and you spent most of that week doing just that. You wrote pages and pages and ink stained your fingers as you tried to figure out the answer on how you could salvage things, but the answer never really turned up. The only real answer you found is how desperate you were for true love.

A pound on your door caught you by surprise the day before you were supposed to go back to work. You paused your seventh watch through of Romeo and Juliet and walked to the door. You opened it, seeing a crazed-eyed Lily.

“I thought you were dead!” She exclaimed, pushing past you into your flat. “Why didn’t you answer?!”

“Because-”

“When was the last time you cleaned?” She asked, picking up a discarded pizza box from the couch and tossing it on the counter.

You looked around your apartment, suddenly feeling self conscious about its current state. It was a disaster. Pizza boxes, crisp bags, and soda cans lined every surface, and dishes were piled up in the sink. Clothes were strewn everywhere even though you stayed in one outfit for the past week.

“When was the last time you showered?” Lily asked, more concerned than put off by your noticeably greasy appearance.

You shrugged, genuinely not knowing. You knew it had to be at least a week ago.

“Babes,” Lily cooed, holding your hands in hers. “Pull yourself together. He’s just a guy-”

You sighed heavily, shaking your head. “He’s not just-”

“-who still very much would like to see you again,” she finished over you, a spark evident in her eyes. “Especially if you showered,” she mumbled, smiling as you turned red.

You dropped her hands as you threw her a playful glare. “I take it that you’d enjoy seeing me better if I was showered too?”

Lily shrugged, smiling coyly as she mumbled, “I won’t say yes, but it’d be preferred.”

You loosed a sigh. “Fine,” you said, making your way to the bathroom. “Just for you.”

Showering felt nice, and you hadn’t realized what you were missing until you were under the hot water. Because of that, your shower was longer intended, and the water ran cold by the time you were done cleaning yourself off.

You didn’t bother dressing yet since you knew Lily wouldn’t judge you, so you slipped on your robe, making your way to the living room, where she had conquered the mess the trash bags.

“Thought you might’ve died in there,” Lily said from the kitchen, her hands lost in dirty dishwater.

“I had to get clean,” you sighed, your shoulders slumping forward. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“I know I didn’t,” she replied, putting yet another clean dish on the drying rack. “You’re my friend, and I care about you so I wanted to.”

You hugged her from behind, your cheek pressing into her back as she washed another dish.

“I love you,” you mumbled, and she shut off the tap, turning to give you a proper hug.

“I love you too,” she said, squeezing you tighter before letting go. “Which is why-” she sang, a smile growing on her face. “You’ll come to my holiday party next week, won’t you?”

“Isn’t it a bit early?” You asked, realizing it wasn’t even December.

“Everyone does something different for holidays,” she sighed dramatically. “This is the only time that everyone will be together, and I don’t want you to miss it.” You didn’t say anything, so Lily continued. “I know the whole Remus thing didn’t work out, but I can say for certain that he still would love to see you, okay? Just talk to him. Invite him over or something whenever you see him next.”

You sighed. “I’ll think about it.”

Instead of protesting like normal, Lily nodded, smiling softly. “Come on. Let’s go watch movies like we did when we were girls.”

Lily was gone before you woke up, leaving you a note and a scone.

“Have a great day back! Xoxo Lily,” the note read. You took a bite of the scone, getting dressed for work, and began your walk to the cafe down the road.

Melanie was incoherently swearing at the oven when you came in through the back, dropping a pan of what looked like charcoal on the countertop.

She was your co-worker, and you considered her a friend, but she was horrible at her job. You feared for anyone who had to drink her chunky coffee, eat her blackened pastries, and listen to her swear in Gaelic in the week you were gone.

“There’s a guy waiting out there for you,” Melanie huffed, watching you as you tied a clean apron around your waist. “Been here since this mornin’.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, rolling your eyes. “Is it Ed?” You smiled, thinking of the old man with kind eyes who always asked for you to make his drinks. You missed him dearly.

“No, he’s a younger guy… Like our age,” she replied, chucking the burnt pastries in the trash. “He’s been here every day for a week lookin’ specifically for you. Had to ask him to leave by noon so he wasn’t takin’ up a table.” She glanced up at the time, wiping her nose on her sleeve. “I left him today because I knew you’d be here. Didn’t order anything yet, though. ‘M sure he’ll do that once he sees you.”

“Oh.” You felt your face flush, and you suddenly started toying with your hair. You should be creeped out by this, but your heart soars. Somebody is here to see you. “Is he cute?”

“Decent, I guess,” Melanie said with a sigh, glancing at your nervous hands. “You look fine. Just go get his order before he sits here all day looking sad again.”

You rolled your eyes, dropping your hands. “Are you sure-”

“Just go,” Melanie laughed, giving you a playful push out of the kitchen.

He was standing at the counter, his neck hardly craned to see the menu above him. Your heart dropped to your stomach, the sour ache in your chest coming back with a vengeance.

“Remus,” you tried to say, breathier than you wanted. Shit.

“Hiya,” he said. He hardly looked at you, his eyes focused on the menu. “I’m having trouble picking something to order...”

He was so nonchalant, it made your heart ache. His hair was slicked back, like he had just woken up and showered, which was a high possibility since it was only noon. A leather bomber jacket hid a green button up and brown corduroys. He was smiling at you as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“What’s your favorite drink?” He asked, bringing you back into the conversation. “The other girl just kept giving me black coffee.”

“Melanie has poor taste,” you mumbled, flushing as you looked away from him. “Chocolate?”

“Huh?”

“Do you like chocolate?” You asked.

“I love chocolate,” he said, smiling.

You nodded, silently turning on your heel to start working on his drink.

Your mind, however, was anything but. You were racking your brain on what to say to him. Do you bring it up? Do you invite him over? You could tell Melanie that you needed to take a break, but you just got there, and she would flip her lid. You knew you were going to need the break after the lunch rush. Prepping a conversation failed you last time, and this time, you just needed to wing it.

You sighed, losing a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding in, as you shaved chocolate over top of the whipped cream topping. You turned around, presenting the drink with a smile, ignoring the way your hands started shaking.

“Sweet lord,” Remus mumbled, his hand outstretched. “How much do I owe you?”

You handed him the cup, your fingers brushing as he busied his other hand with cash.

“‘S on the house,” you said quietly, your eyes not leaving where his fingers grazed yours. “Don’t tell me that you’ve been paying for Melanie’s black coffee all week.”

“Ahh, so she told you?” Remus asked, his brow quirked. “You probably think I’m creepy-”

“Endearing?” You finished his sentence before his lips even formed the ‘c,’ “Look, Remus-” Your heartbeat quickened. This was it. It’s happening.

“I’m all ears,” he said, grabbing your hand lightly before the bell ringing above the door distracted you.

“Hi! I’ll be right with you!” You greeted the old woman before locking eyes with Remus. “I’m off at eight,” you said, your voice wavering with nerves

A ding of the bell at the counter this time caught Remus’ attention now, making him glance over.

“Just a second, alright?” You tried to sound sweet, tightly smiling at her. You looked back at Remus, squeezing his hand lightly. “Come back-”

The woman dinged the bell impatiently, and Remus huffed, looking at her. “We’re in the middle of a conversation! Just wait a second!” He snapped, his attention back on you immediately. “I’ll walk you home, yeah?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you nodded. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’ll be here at eight sharp,” he said as the bell rang again. “Better deal with her,” he mumbled, dropping your hand as he backed away from the counter.

“Right,” you half laughed, rolling your eyes with a smile. “Work.” They dinged the bell again, clearing their throat. “I’m coming!” You huffed, throwing a brief smile to Remus before attending to the impatient customer.

“Sorry, we’re closed!” You called, your back turned toward the dinging door as you wiped down the counter.

“Damnit,” you heard him hiss. “I wanted one of those… whatever you made me this morning.”

You turned around, finding Remus at the counter clutching a bouquet of sunflowers.

“A cafe mocha.” Your voice was breathy just like this morning, and your cheeks turned pink as he set the sunflowers down on the counter.

“Should probably get those in some water,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. “They didn’t like the cold.”

You grabbed the bouquet, plucking off a dried petal. “Where’d you get them?”

Remus shrugged, a smile playing at his lips. “I know a really good florist.”

You nodded quietly, understanding what he meant as you grabbed a large coffee cup, filling it with water. “Make yourself at home,” you said, busying yourself with the bouquet. “I still have to put a few things away… Wipe down a few surfaces. It’ll take me five minutes tops.”

Remus nodded, his hands still in his pockets as he turned on his heel, perusing his way toward the bookshelves near the front of the cafe.

Rather than getting to the work that you had, you watched him.

His long, slender fingers grazed the books as he looked at them, taking his time to look at each spine. He gasped quietly to himself, pulling the book from the shelf.

“Do you mind?” He asked as if he knew you were looking at him, holding up a book.

“As long as you bring it back,” you replied, instantly getting back to work to hide your reddened cheeks.

“I’ll probably be back here tomorrow,” he said, slipping the book in his pocket. “If you’ll have me.”

“Oh, I’d have you anytime,” you replied, glancing up at him to catch him staring and smiling softly. Your heart clenched as you cleared your throat. “What book did you pick?”

“The Shining by Stephen King.” Remus made his way back to the counter, watching you as you put dishes away. “Have you read it?” You nodded, finishing up. “Was it any good?”

“Do you want to know what it’s about?” You asked, facing him as he nodded. You smiled, undoing your apron. “Alright. I’ll tell you all about it.”

“So Danny can see these people?” Remus asked, clutching the book to his chest as he kept up with you on the quick walk.

“Well, they’re ghosts,” you laughed at his reaction. “They aren’t real-”

“Ghosts are very much real,” he said, his eyebrows raised. “I’ve seen them.”

“Well in this case, Danny sees them in his head,” you explained. “It’s the shine.”

“Ahh, I love it when the book title works its way into the story,” Remus sighed, smiling as you slowed. “Is this you?”

You nodded. “This is me,” you confirmed, looking down at the cup of flowers. “You uh-”

“I’ll see you around,” he said quietly, squeezing your elbow.

“You can come up.” You swallowed the nervous lump in your throat. “Uh- If you want?”

Remus seemed to stand straighter. “I would love that.”

You smiled, pushing open the complex door, holding it for him to duck inside.

He followed you closely up the stairs, his hands in his pockets. You focused on your feet, knowing that if you didn’t, you’d surely trip. Your brain was screaming, but you kept quiet, the burning in your chest coming back.

You made it to your flat, and you fumbled with the keys, unlocking your door and shuffled inside, Remus in tow.

Closing the door you sighed. “Did you give me a love potion?” You asked candidly, setting the flowers on the counter.

“What?” Remus was still at the door, toeing off his shoes.

“At the wedding?” You could feel your face flushing, feeling stupid, but continuing on anyway. “You gave me a potion you called a sober-up potion… Was it actually-”

“Love potions are very unstable,” he said quietly. “Why would you think that I’d give you one?”

You shrugged. “It’s an easier explanation than what’s really going on.”

“And that is?”

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you,” you admitted quietly. “That’s stupid, right?”

“I don’t think that’s stupid,” Remus quietly cooed. “I really like you,” he started, his hand now on your shoulder. “I don’t reckon you heard that at the pub even though I told you thrice.”

“Still?” You guffawed when he nodded matter-of-factly. “Remus, I don’t think if you’re remembering right, but I was a c-”

“You should really listen,” he reminded you, his tone lilting. You stopped, crossing your arms over your chest. He took a step away from you, leaning on the counter across from you. “You were looking at the moon. Saying how you preferred the sun more because without it, the moon would just be another dark rock. That made me think, you know? Would I be just a dark rock without you someday? Could I ever get so lucky?”

Your heart clenched at his words, but he continued, ignoring the way your eyebrows pinched together as you nodded.

“Sunflowers,” he said, nodding at the bouquet in its coffee cup vase. “They reminded me of you. They represent sunshine, you know.”

You felt like crying. You felt like kissing him and never stopping. Nobody had ever been this kind, this open, with you before. You swallowed, looking away from him.

“I got full body chills when I caught you looking at me at Lily’s wedding. I thought, ‘I need to buck up and talk to him.’ Then you talked to me while I was reeling over how handsome you are,” you said quietly.

Remus shook his head softly. “You’re just saying-”

“No,” you said, cutting him off. “It’s your turn to listen.”

He conceded, hands going up in quiet allowance for you to continue. You sighed, tucking your hair behind your ears.

“I regretted going to the pub because you were there, and you felt different. Like… like the one that got away.” It was like word-vomit. Once you started, you just couldn’t stop, so you continued. “The one that didn’t want me, and I’m so desperate for someone to want me that I start to get angry. I want to be wanted, you know? And I was terrified, Remus, because I love you, and it seemed like you wanted nothing to do with me. A-and now, I just can’t believe that someone like you would want something like me.

“Someone who yelled at you for a misunderstanding. Someone who opens her stupid mouth and ruins absolutely everything.” You hadn’t realized that you started crying until you paused to take a breath, sniffling up tears instead. “Someone who isn’t magic- God, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey,” he said, crossing to where you were standing. Slightly crouching, he held your arms, thumbs brushing your biceps lightly. “None of that matters,” he cooed. “I was never mad. A little confused, but hey, aren’t we all?”

You let out a wet chuckle, shrugging. “I suppose.”

“I want you, okay?” He said, cupping your cheeks. “I want you.”

Remus leaned in, eyes flicking between your lips and your eyes as if waiting for your approval. You met him halfway, capturing his lips in yours in a soft kiss. Your heart clenched as you pushed closer to him, hands meeting his stubbly jaw before he pulled away.

“I love you, and you are wanted, alright? Don’t you ever forget that,” he reassured you, smiling.

You nodded. “Okay,” your voice came out raspy, causing you to flush. “Could we do that again?”

“Oh, I’d have you anytime, love,” he said. “Anytime.”

#remus lupin #remus lupin x muggle!fem!reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #harvest moon #i'm not in love #i'd have you anytime

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