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#poly!marauders fic
moonstruckme · 5 months
Note
James being a big bear of a boyfriend and always just like lifting u up so easily to hug and sit on his lap and even tho u hate when anyone else does it he’s so BEEFY that you’re fine with him doing it
Yessssss I'm not much of a physical touch person irl but James I would allow
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 847 words
Sirius is trying to follow Remus’ example and focus on the puzzle, but his eyes keep flitting up to you worriedly. You’ve monopolized the couch, laying flat with a hand cast over your eyes and your mouth pinched in obvious discomfort. He’d tried rubbing your calf and Remus had offered you tea, but they’d both given up when the attention only seemed to worsen your mood. Remus suggested they work on the puzzle while you rest (not Sirius’ favorite activity, but forced upon him because it keeps him quiet) and now they’re both simply trying not incur your wrath. 
“Quit looking at me,” you growl without opening your eyes. 
In Sirius’ case, not doing a very good job. 
“Fine, sheesh,” he says, and you press your lips together like you’re restraining yourself from snapping at him. 
You cringe when the door opens, every line of you pulling taut. James is all smiles as he tosses his gym bag to the floor with a heavy thump. “Hello, my loves!” His voice is a decibel short of booming, but it softens when he sees you on the couch. “Oh, sorry, is she napping?” 
Remus shakes his head, lips pursed as he watches your hand tighten over your eyes. “Headache,” he explains quietly. 
“Oh, I’m sorry lovie.” James reroutes from the kitchen, heading for you. Sirius tenses. “How bad is it?” 
“Prongs,” Sirius whispers urgently, “don’t—”
But James has already lifted you, one hand under your knees and another supporting your back as he moves you smoothly from your chosen position of rest and into his lap. He makes it look like nothing, which is the first offense (Sirius isn’t sure which of you he’s more jealous of), but the second is that you let him. Sirius and Remus have both looked up in alarm, waiting for a biting protest that doesn’t come. Instead, you remove your hand from your face, burying in it James’ brawny shoulder instead. 
“Bad,” you grumble, but your tone lacks the venom you’d spat at Sirius a moment before. 
James coos like he’s got a kitten in his lap instead of a viper, bringing his considerable arms around you. His palm cups the back of your neck, kneading gently at the tensed muscles there. “Where does it hurt, darling?” 
“Everywhere.” 
“By your eyes?” 
“No.” 
He hums, brows furrowing as he works steadily at your neck. You’ve gone nearly lax in his arms, trusting him to hold you up as you slump against his front. “Have you been drinking water?” 
“It’s not that.” Some of the irritation is back in your tone, Sirius notices, but it’s been markedly softened for James. “I had tons of water this morning.” 
“Probably a tension headache then, yeah?” He looks to Remus, who nods. The quiet boy looks as dumbstruck as Sirius feels. 
James moves his grip to your sides and lifts you again, rearranging his legs to get more comfortable before placing you back in his lap. He places a hand on each side of your head, thumbs pushing into your temples and rubbing in slow, soothing circles. You begin to look like you might fall asleep.
“This is so unfair,” Sirius hisses to Remus. 
“He has a power,” Remus admits weakly, “which transcends understanding.” 
“Do you want some tea?” James murmurs to you after a while. Sirius’ eyes have gotten stuck watching the movement of his forearms, and he snaps them reluctantly back up. 
You hum, uncertain but definitely considering it. Behind you, Remus throws up his hands. James sees him and smiles, shoulders shaking with quiet laughter. 
“I’m getting the sense this isn’t the first cup you’ve been offered,” he says, looking immensely entertained. 
You sigh, but even that sounds pleasurable as his big thumbs drill diligently into your temples. “Yeah, but I just wanted to be left alone.” 
Remus and Sirius exchange a look. You seem perfectly fine with company now. 
“Don’t be silly,” James chides lightly, “a warm drink will make you feel better. Remus, love, would you be so kind as to make her a cup?” 
“Sure.” His voice is gruff, but then you murmur a quiet thanks, Rem and Sirius actually sees the moment his heart turns to mush. “No problem,” he says, softer now. 
“Attagirl.” James’ hand drops to give your shoulder a squeeze, his bicep flexing slightly with the movement. Christ, Sirius might have to fake a headache later, if this is the sort of treatment those receive. “Drink your tea and then we’ll get you to bed, yeah? You can sleep the rest of this off.” 
“You know, I offered to carry her to bed earlier,” Sirius says, still slightly bitter, “and she told me very clearly to fuck off.” 
You don’t sound so much exasperated now as exhausted. “Siri, when you carrying me doesn’t involve setting me down every five steps for a break, then we’ll talk.” 
James’ laugh surprises both of you, and he apologizes hastily for jostling you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead before resuming his ministrations. You don’t seem all that upset about it.
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ddejavvu · 8 months
Note
Hii so because its summer, could you do a poly!marauders smut or fluff (whatever your comfortable with!) staying at fem readers house or something 😭 i love your work btw and ofc no rush 🫶🏼🫶🏼
James comes barreling back into your room with a shit-eating grin on his face, "There were panties in the bathroom."
"Yeah, my panties," You reach for the pink underwear James is dangling from his finger, but he yanks them away, "Hey!"
"Nasty girl, leaving your undies out," Sirius goads, despite being reclined on your pile of frilly pillows on your bed, "This is a communal space, darling."
"No it's not!" You laugh incredulously, "You're all supposed to take the guest room next door!"
"That's not happening," Remus snickers, settling into the armchair you have nestled snugly beside your bookcase, "You really think you can get rid of us, dove? Sirius'll chain himself to the bedposts. And James doesn't need chains, he'll just hug your thigh and not let go."
"And what about you, Remus?" You slide off of your bed, panties long forgotten as you climb carefully into his lap. It's a bit of a maneuver due to the armrests of your reading chair but he wraps his arms around your back, craning his neck up to brush his nose against your own with a lazy grin.
"M'gonna plant my arse right here in this chair," He decides, squeezing your sides when you giggle at his declaration, "Face it, dove, you're stuck with us."
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theemporium · 10 months
Note
Marauders x reader smut? pretty please?
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
“Oh fuck.”
“C’mon, love, that’s not a guess,” a voice mused from your left. Maybe in any other situation, the voice would have been as clear as day. Maybe in any other situation, you would have known which one of your boys had just spoken. 
But in this situation? You could barely string together a coherent sentence, let alone focus on who was talking to you.
You had known provoking your boys was never going to end well for you. You had already spent the last few pushing their buttons, add in the fact all of you had a few intense days between classes and assignments and all sorts that had been tearing you away from each other except for meal times. 
You wanted them in the most deprived, feral way you could have them which just so happened to be tied and spread across the bed, one of their school ties wrapped around your eyes as they each took their turn making you wiggle and squirm with their heads between your thighs. 
Then again, you expected nothing less when you had jokingly remarked each of them were as unremarkable as the next when it came to going down on you at dinner to Lily and Marlene. A sarcastic comment they didn’t like at all. 
That had been hours ago, no here you were, gasping and panting and moaning as they made you come again and again and again until your brain was fuzzy and your body was on fire and you could barely remember your own name, let alone theirs. 
Two arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you spread open as an eager tongue lapped and licked your soaking cunt. You were shaking, far too overstimulated and sensitive but the boy between your legs was eager to please, licking you like he was a starved man. 
“Take a guess, honey, and we’ll let you have a break.” 
“I-I can’t,” you whined, your lips falling open as the boy between your legs sucked your swollen clit between his lips, his hands digging into your skin as you let out a pathetic mewl. “F-Feels too good, please—” 
“Gotta guess, love,” the boy between your legs groaned, his nose playfully nudging against your inner thigh before he placed open-mouthed kisses along your skin. “Not gonna stop until then, could fucking stay here forever.”
“I—” your head lolled to the side, your cheek pressed against the pillow beneath you as you tried to string a sentence together. 
“Just gotta say a name, baby.” 
“James!” you cried out as his tongue teased your entrance, watching the way you fluttered and clenched around nothing. “I-It’s James!”
You whined when the body between your legs disappeared, your body shivering at the sudden loss of warmth as the chill of the dorm room washed over you. You heard footsteps before you felt someone leaning over you, pressing their lips against yours as they pulled the blindfold off you. 
“Good job, love,” Remus murmured against your lips as he cupped his cheek, his thumb wiping away a few stray tears. “Been so good for us.” 
“So good,” you breathed out, nodding your head. 
His eyes darkened as he smirked down at you. “It’s a shame we’re not done with you, baby, gotta make sure our good girl remembers who she belongs to, hm?”
.
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inkdrinkerworld · 4 months
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hellooo!!
i was thinking about poly!marauders seeing r’s natural hair for the first time? i’ve got curly hair but i straighten it most of the time bc it’s so annoying to take care of, i was wondering if you could write something abt this??
i’ve never requested before lmao i’m sorry if i did this wrong
Omg babe I too wear my curly hair straight 9/10 cos the volume?! Insane!! I actually just did a keratin treatment too cos I could manage
You’re fresh out the shower- well in a bathrobe when you hear the signs of your boys being home.
There’s some arguing- which you know is James and Sirius, and some softer words, Remus trying to placate them.
“We’re home angel!” Comes James’ voice, you listen as you put on some clothes.
“We got that soup you wanted.” Remus supplies- you wait for Sirius’ voice and don’t find it.
Instead, you’re met with the black haired man, scruff and all, present as you pull your towel from your hair.
“Hi puppet,” his lips meet your forehead, and then your lips. “I like the curls.” Sirius inked hand hovers just below the curls at your shoulders, fingertips collecting the water like dewdrops.
“Thanks Siri, I like ‘em too. If only they weren’t so finicky.”
“What’s finicky?” James asks at the door, pausing swiftly after looking up. “Your hair looks lush, angel!”
Your cheeks heat under both men’s attention and you know you don’t have long before Remus comes in and is making it hard to stand before them all.
“I brought the soup in here, didn’t want it to get too cold.” He’s holding a tray with two bowls on it- one for you and him you presume, James and Sirius prefer pho to yours and Remus’ wanton soup.
“Thanks Remmy, though you didn’t have to I was coming out soon.”
He shrugs, sets the tray down carefully and then fakes you in. “Are you wearing it curly this week?”
“Today and tomorrow,” you say, an almost insecure hand reaching to touch the curls.
“Looks good, dove.” Remus stalks towards you, hand cupping your cheek as he pulls you in for a kiss.
“Think you ought to keep it curly if you’re gonna get kissed like that, huh angel?” James flirts, all three of them taking turns kissing you silly before you find the voice to remind them about your food.
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Poly!Marauders Date Drabble
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: James Potter/Remus Lupin/Sirius Black/GN!reader
Summary: just a Drabble about poly!Marauders and you on a date.
Notes: this was inspired by the bonus prompt: ‘Characters share the last table at a cafe’ from @flufftober 2023.
This account is anti-JKR and her beliefs.
I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.
Read on AO3 here.
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You walked into the cafe with your three boyfriends, James Potter, Remus Lupin and Sirius Black. You were happy to be out with them, even if people did think that Remus and Sirius were boyfriends and that you were with James.
Sirius held Remus’ hand as they went to order for all four of you, as James took your hand and the two of you took the only open booth in the cafe. James slid in first with you sliding in beside him. You kissed him before he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in so you were leaning against him.
It didn’t take long before your other two boyfriends came and joined you. You all waited for your order and just had a pleasant conversation. You absolutely adored and loved these three men.
When your order had been delivered to your table, the four of you shared the food and had your drinks while enjoying each others company.
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sxriusblxck · 2 years
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hi pretty baby <333
i have a bit of a request if you don’t mind hehe :) i was hoping this could be a longer fic (maybe 1k?) but if not it’s no worries whatsoever baby :)
but back to the request,,, i was thinking gn!reader with poly!marauders but it really focuses on the dynamo between remus, sirius, and reader? maybe how they take care of eachother with james just being a proud mom LOL
i hope this isn’t too vague and if you need more details, you know where to reach me ;)
—🌿
hi baby!! love this request :)
warnings: arguing, non-sexual nudity, food mentions, very dialogue heavy, one murder mention, james is kind of in the background a bit but he still love him <33
word count: 1,189
masterlist
i know the reader just woke up then they fall asleep so please ignore my poor mistake lolll
Bickering is the first thing you hear when you wake.
Your eyes haven't fully opened, and your brain is still clouded with morning fog, but you can make-out the sounds of arguing.
"It's my turn, Moony." You hear Sirius's stern voice hiss, quiet like he's trying not to be a disturbance but firm enough to get his point across.
"No s' not!" Remus huffs back, sounding annoyed. "You got to yesterday."
"No! Prongs did." The former growls.
"Will ya' both jus' shut up?" James groans, fed-up with the two's childish and pointless arguing. "You're gonna wake them up with all this before either of ya' get the chance to do it properly!"
"What's going on?" You grumble sleepily.
"See!" James hisses.
Your eyes open and the first thing you see is Remus and Sirius on their bed, disappointed looks crossing their faces after they see you're awake. James is sat at one of the three desk's in the dorm, twiddling a quill with his fingers.
"What is it?" You repeat, knuckling at your closed eye as you shift into a seated position.
Sirius sighs, falling back against his bed with his hands over his face, no doubt pouting underneath his palms.
"Siri wanted to be the one to wake you up but it was my turn. He's always trying to-
"Well." You cut him off before he can go to insult Sirius. "M'awake now so it doesn't matter."
"And who's fault is that?" Sirius jeers beneath his hands.
"Oi shut up!"
"Alright." You stand. "I'm going for a shower."
"I'm coming!" Sirius squeaks, nearly flying off the bed in his haste to get to the bathroom before either boy could.
Remus whines, accepting his defeat as he slumps against the mattress. You smile, rewarding him a kiss as you pass his bed.
"Now, Sirius-"
Your attempt to tell him off was halted when you walk into the bathroom, finding your stark-naked lover stood by the sink, two towels folded neatly with lotion, toothpaste, and a washcloth readied on the countertop.
"Yes?" He grins, hands placed on his hips to amuse you.
"Get in the shower." You snort.
After the two of you had showered and dressed, you were left with a boring, lazy day ahead of you. Not that anyone minded, rainy days were the groups favorites.
"Can we watch one of those muggle films?" James asks, pulling a Quidditch jumper over his head.
"Sure." You hum, snuggled between two warm bodies on Remus's bed. His was the coziest, made akin to a den with how many blankets and pillows he'd acquired.
"Right." James smiles. "I'll go find some snacks and you guys pick something."
After he leaves, the three of you are left in a comfortable silence, minus the pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the window.
"Move your arm?" Sirius requests.
Remus, who's arm had been wedged uncomfortably under Sirius's and your back, shifts so that it's fit in a more accommodating spot.
"There?" He asks.
Sirius hums contently, moving his head so it rests atop yours, letting Remus wiggle his fingers along his scalp, his other hand tracing at your side under your shirt.
"Someone tickle my arm." You request, pulling said arm from under the blanket to offer to your boys.
"Needy little thing." Remus jests as Sirius pinches your hip.
Sirius is the one to do it, not wanting his hair to stop being pet. He uses the tips of his fingers to ghost over your arm, goosebumps following his trail as his nails scratch lightly at your skin.
Your thanks is muttered sleepily into the somewhat silent room, heard by both boys and acknowledged by Sirius with a hum, continuing to scratch gently at your forearm.
By the time James arrives back with a mix of savory and sweet treats, the three of you are fast asleep, Remus's hand entwined in Sirius (now tangled) locks with you sandwiched between them, body barely visible as the two squish into your back and chest.
All he can do is smile, place the forgotten snacks on the desk, kick his shoes off, and crawl into bed with the three of you.
The ruined movie night had been a week ago.
The four of you had decided on a redo, a film already queued-up and ready to play, snacks situated on the nightstand, blankets tucked around you.
The set-up went like this:
James was on the far left, back against the headboard, bucket of popcorn in his lap. Remus was to the right of him, arm slung around your shoulder, slightly lower on the bed. You were between Remus and Sirius, pillow against your chest as you chewed on a candy. Sirius was slung over you like a koala, whole body nearly draped over yours.
The movie was a horror, and despite Remus's normally strong and stoic attitude, he was jumping and flinching at every jump-scare.
"Would ya' quit jumping, you big baby? You're rocking the whole bed!" Sirius sneers from beside you.
"Shut up!" Remus squeaks. "James picked a scary one."
"No, you're just a wimp."
"Quit it." You cut in, glaring harshly up at your lover. "He can't help it if he's scared. And might I remind you that just last week you screamed like a little girl when you saw a spider?"
Sirius flushes crimson red, quickly shutting his mouth and returning his focus back to the film.
James watches the exchange with a smile, proud of your shutting-Sirius-up tactics and slightly amused with his two boyfriends bickering.
"Can I have one of those strawberry ropes?" Remus asks, nudging your side to grab your attention.
You nod, snatching the pack of Twizzlers off Sirius's lap to hand to Remus.
"Those are mine." A petulant Sirius Black calls from your left.
"I jus' want one." Remus murmurs, looking over to the long-haired boy with a soft look.
"Kay." He whispers, melted by Remus's gentle tone and doe eyes. He'd never admit it aloud, but he swore Remus could ask him to commit murder in that voice, and he'd do it without hesitation.
"Whipped." You say through a faked cough into your fist.
"Shut up, they're being sweet." James chuckles as Remus pinches you.
The rest of the movie passes by with small conversation and more squealing from Remus, finishing forty-minutes later with a shitty ending that has you all moderately irritated and not the least bit satisfied.
"No one knows how to make a movie these days." Sirius grumbles unhappily, a handful of Twizzlers stuffed into his mouth.
"Agreed." You grunt, twisting onto your side to get comfortable.
"Bet I could make a better film than that." James pipes-up, throwing the blanket off of himself to trudge to the bathroom.
"We could." Sirius chirps. "What'd it be about?"
"Probably a thriller." James calls, voice muffled with toothpaste. "A couple with a murderous baby."
The boys all snort, and you can feel yourself drifting.
"We could have it set in the future, think that would be cool." Remus adds his two-cents.
"Oooh a futuristic killer baby!" Is the last thing you hear before falling into a dreamless sleep.
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allllium · 9 months
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Best Marauders Fics on Tumblr
Wizarding world Recs @novaqueenofmadness
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Remus Lupin
What's mine [Series] ~ @igncrantbliss
It's Blue The Feeling I've got [fluff] ~ @jamespottersdaisy
Sweet Nothing [Fluff] ~ @jamespottersdaisy
It's Nice to Have a Friend [Angst] ~ @jamespottersdaisy
Never His [Angst/Fluff] ~ @weasleykisses
Introducing you to his son [Fluff] ~ @starzqzi
° Touch Starved [Fluff] ~ @gtgbabie0
Drabble [Fluff] ~ @bruisedboys
° Drunk Remus [fluff] ~ @bruisedboys
drabble [fluff] ~ @luveline
drabble [fluff] ~ @luveline
Whimsical!Reader [fluff] ~ @moonstruckme
Drunk Reader [Fluff] ~ @luveline
Sunshine Reader [Fluff] ~ @luveline
Infatuated [Fluff] ~ @fourmoony
Snappy [Hurt/Comfort?] ~ @luveline
Mean Remus [Hurt/Comfort] ~ @moonstruckme
Annoying Serenading [Fluff] ~ @shiftermia
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James Potter
I want to be loved first [Angst] ~ @livinginshambles
High (On Love) [Fluff] ~ @prongslvl
What girlfriends do [Fluff] ~ @wzrd-wheezes
Fall [fluff] ~ @theemporium
Obsessed [Fluff] ~ @lucyrose191
Cuddles and Confessions [Fluff] ~ @lizard-on-a-window-pane
Flash Cards [Fluff] ~ @alwaysmoncheri
End Game [Fluff] ~ @pretty-little-mind33
Cause you Weren't Mine to Lose [Angst] ~ @hoaxriot
Gold Rush [Angst/Fluff] ~ @pretty-little-mind33
Post Nap Hug [Fluff] ~ @inkdrinkerworld
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Sirius Black
Aftercare [Suggestive?] ~ @moonstruckme
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Poly Marauders
Drabble [Fluff] ~ @moonstruckme
Raccoon [Fluff] ~ @moonstruckme
Eating Problems [Angst/Comfort] ~ @moonstruckme
Golden Retriever!Reader [Fluff] ~ @moonstruckme
Wisdom Teeth [Fluff] ~ @moonstruckme
↳ I don't actually ship anything with poly! marauders but some authors are so talented
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Poly Wolfstar
Mistake [Angst/Comfort] ~ @ellecdc
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luveline · 6 months
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bEGGING for something with the marauders with drunk reader at a halloween party!!! make it literally anything you want follow ur heart ily and ur writing is AMAZING!!!!
thank you, ily ♡ modern au, fem
The rugby uniform felt like a funny idea at the time, but now you're cold and wondering how James manages to stay warm when he plays. You must ask him. 
He sits on the couch with Remus and another friend, Frank. You like Frank but he's not one of your boys, leaving you no options —you have to slide yourself between Remus and James, emphasis on have to. Remus touches your waist unthinkingly as you do, like he might catch you if you fell. 
James is ecstatic to see you as always. "Where have you been? I was about to send out the search party." 
He's been very, very pleased with you upon the reveal of your costume. Like, pleased enough to take a handful of your thigh and squeeze at the soft inner part greedily. You lean back into Remus, enjoying the feeling and wanting his comfort. He's used to it, and  he adapts by pressing his face indulgently to the side of your head. 
You giggle. This is usually a nice feeling, but drunk? You're euphoric. 
"You can't stray too far, lovely, I need my victim," Remus says. 
"Where have your fangs gone?" you ask, pointing at your neck. "I made the bite mark so perfect. Everyone will think I have rabies if you don't commit." 
James laughs like you're hilarious. Later, you'll find out that you didn't quite say every word that you thought you said, and that you'd been slurring your words into one another to create Frankenstein's sentences. 
"Everybody already thinks you have rabies," James says. He's wearing a chef's costume from a show he likes, a white shirt that's sleeves strain against his biceps and a blue apron. Sirius spent an hour drawing tattoos into his brown skin with a sharpie. "That's why we've decided to put you down." 
"I'll have one last night of passion with her first, if you don't mind," Sirius says, announcing his presence. 
You like the sound of that, lifting yourself away from the other two boys and their touches to take Sirius' fine hands. He's in a button up and tie, the sticker on his chest proudly proclaiming, Hello, my name is: Dave.
"You're here to kiss me, right?" you ask.
Sirius grins and presses a quick kiss to the corner of your mouth. "My little alcoholic, you smell like lambrini. What did we say about lambrini?" 
"Uh, that it makes me sloppy drunk." 
"Exactly!" He kisses your cheek, working an arm around your shoulder as though showing you off with pride to the other boys. "My darling, you're so smart." 
"Not that smart, she still drank the lambrini." 
"Remus, don't start," Sirius admonishes. "You just hate that she chooses me when she's drunk." 
"You're her enabler," James says, "of course she does. But before she was drunk she chose to dress as me for Halloween, so if anyone is the favourite–" 
"Oh, please don't start," Remus says. 
The boys start, arguing over who your favourite is. It's a silly pass time with no real merit but no malice, either, and you're just drunk enough to goad them on. "Maybe Remus should be my favourite. After all, he's my vampire. Our love is, like, eternal." 
The furrowed brow he gets whenever the other two boys debate slips. "It's so eternal," he says, nodding confidently. "Quite right, dove." 
"Eternal doesn't mean better." 
"Then what does it mean, Sirius?" 
You decide that James' lap looks comfortable and that you might be here for a long time, so you push his legs down flat and sit carefully (not very carefully in reality, but in your heart) on his thighs, socked feet pulled up onto the couch, sideways and skewiff in his company. 
"Well, obvious winner," James says, encompassing your back with a big arm, pulling you into him. Under his hand your shoulders feel like a more delicate system; you aren't necessarily small, but his touch feels so everywhere, a pervasive feeling of safety and comfort in the palm of his hand where it grasps you. 
"You have the more comfortable seat," Sirius says nonchalantly. "It means nothing." 
Remus pulls one of your socks up where it's slipping down your calf and Sirius interrupts the arguing to ask if you need a glass of water. You don't have favourites. They're each incredibly lovely in their own way. 
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sunnami · 3 months
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❝time will tell.❞
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[credits to the original artist of the photo!! can't seem to find their @ anywhere. title is taken from jane austen's persuasion, as was the first part.]
summary. ❝you are loved. and harry thinks there is no better description that that.❞
pairing/s. poly!mauraders x reader. (james potter x reader, sirius black x reader, lily evans x reader, and remus lupin x reader.)
word count. 9.5k.
tags. reader is referred to mum, with she/her pronouns[!], canon-typical violence [!], canon-typical deaths mentioned[!], very brief marauders as soldiers of the order[!], creepy old men being creepy[!], child abuse[!], pureblood arranged marriages, a minor character expresses wanting to die[!], Depressed and Traumatized Slytherins, the capital is important[!], themes of misogyny [!], teen boys fuck around and find out there are consequences to their actions, THERE IS ACTUALLY A LOT OF FLUFF, I PROMISE YOU, angst, children lose their baby teeth up until the age of twelve!! google said so!! not proofread we die like dobby the free elf
note. damn, i cried, you cried, we all crode. tbh, the first part was only intended as a oneshot, sdfkhdf, but when i re-read it, i thought that i could have expanded on more details,, so now here we are!! i love it more than the first part ueueue. thank you all so so so much for the kind comments :((( please please enjoy the second part to this installment!! part one
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HARRY JAMES POTTER was only a few months old when you died at the hands of Voldemort — or as strangers have told him every time they ravaged his personal space and ogled at his scar. They said it was a quick death, better than what had happened to Alice and Frank Longbottom. But that was all they’ve ever said about your death. Unfortunate; caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, entirely different from the pedestal James and Lily have been put on by the wizarding society. 
At first, Harry had wondered if it was due to your blood relations, being the daughter of a renowned Death-Eater, heiress to the fortune of a pureblood House. Harry can’t even count the amount of conspiracy theories he’s read or heard to his face that it must have been you who betrayed James and Lily, and not Sirius Black. 
Even Hermione’s shared to him a theory that your death was faked to surrender your loyalty completely to Voldemort — of course, Hermione was eleven at the time, head full of books and her favorite theories, and Harry’s already forgiven her. But there’s a part of him that despises the way he’s never known the full truth about his parents, just bits of information dangled in front of him like bait for people [read: the Dursleys] to get him to do what they want, to act like the way they want. Until Remus and Sirius, you were a stranger to him, really.
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
IT IS RATHER UNFORTUNATE that Madam Pince has already taken her position as the unbearable librarian at this point in time. The woman gives Harry and you a pointed look as you slam the large book onto one of the tables — to Harry’s surprise, you glare right back at her. You’re awfully flushed, however, blushing cheeks betraying the fire in your eyes; it must have been from when Remus escorted the two of you to the library; he had tried to brush your hand with his pinky, to which you had responded with a startled hiss — Remus only smiled and chuckled at you, and Harry swears he’d like to forget that entire interaction because he saw literal stars in Remus’s eyes.
Jumping back in time and potentially causing chaos? Fun. 
Meeting your parents? Definitely fun, in the strangest of ways. 
But watching them pine and fall for each other? Not so fun. 
Nonetheless, he hesitantly takes the seat across yours and watches you flip through the pages until you land on a chapter with the large, bold letters: THE CURIOUS CASE OF ELOISE MINTUMBLE — Time-Travel and Its Many Dangers. He meets your gaze with a sheepish grin, mustering a look of innocence; except the puppy dog eyes only worked when he was nine — you are not amused. 
You slide the book towards him, scarily resembling Molly Weasley when she’s miffed with the twins. “You are aware, right, that just by existing here you’ve changed the future? Your future? And, that’s not even the worst thing that could happen.” 
Harry sulks. “Yes, mum.” He prefers not to think about it, actually, it makes his head hurt. 
“Don’t call me that in public!” You whisper heatedly, looking over your shoulder to check if anyone had heard him — to your luck, the library was empty, save for a Hufflepuff that was passed out on top of his books. “The less people that know about this, the better. It’s bad enough we told Potter about you. Do you even know what you’re going to do?” 
“Considering I was thrown here against my will, no.” Harry shrugs. “And to be honest, I was just going to obliviate the people who asked too many questions.”
You reach over to smack his head, scowling.
“Ow! That hurt!” Harry rubs the sore spot as he grumbles petulantly. “This is technically child abuse, did you know that?” 
You roll your eyes. “Do you at least have a plan to get home?” 
“Of course I do,” Harry retorts with a scoff, “Her name is Hermione Granger.” 
“Hopeless.” You groan exasperatedly. “Absolutely hopeless.” 
Harry only grins in response. For a brief moment, he forgets about the present — his reality where the skies are bleak and home is where he knows the feeling of loss more than the warmth of his own parents’ embrace. He lets himself forget, and pretends he isn’t the Boy Who Lived. Just some random boy who’s pestering his mother — even if she likes to deny the inevitability of being romanced by the Marauders, (except for Wormtail because Harry would eat troll slime before he ever lets that happen.)
“Right then,” You say after your tangent — which Harry tuned out when he hears the words, be responsible. “If I’m going to help you get back home—” 
Harry’s heart drops to his stomach; as selfishly as it sounds, he didn’t want to go home just yet — not to where people just took and took from him. He’s exhausted. Still, he puts up a front of being excited to be returned to his timeline. It’s for the greater good, of course, because his existence — present or past — is always somehow a threat to the wizarding society. 
“—you need to answer this one question for me.” Your voice drops lower as you stare at him intently, lips pressed firmly. 
Harry nods slowly. “As long as it’s within reason, yeah.” 
You inhale sharply. “Do I outlive Dolores Umbridge?” 
The wince escapes Harry before he can even stop it. 
That’s all the answer you need, apparently. Your mouth hangs open in disbelief, eyes nearly bulging out of your head as you slam your hands down onto the table surface, shrieking.
“That slimy bitch!” 
Needless to say, the two of you are kicked out of the library.
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(1970; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU ARE ELEVEN when your father introduces you to Ferguson, commonly known as Fergus, Bulstrode. He smiles at you with a leer, eyes hungrily dipping to the neckline of your dress. You grit your teeth as you hold out your hand for him to take — you almost shudder at the feel of his lips on your cheek. You eagerly take a step back away from him, hoping your father won’t notice the way you shy from Ferguson’s touch. You’re not dull, you fully understand the implications of this introduction and the way Ferguson is complaining to you about his third wife’s passing — as if you were the solution to his loneliness. Bile rises to your throat, and you shove it down with a forced laugh at your father’s jokes about Mudbloods. From across the room, Allegra Greengrass stares at you in sympathy, and you send her a glare — you do not need anyone’s pity. 
The corset your mother laced on too tight is suffocating you; this whole Yule extravaganza made for elitist purebloods is suffocating you; and yet, you smile and greet every red-lipped witch your mother introduces you to. For hours, you pretend, and you pretend. By the time the guests have left, you wonder if you have any more of yourself to give. 
You manage to convince your mother to let you slip away for the night. Without missing a beat, you rush outside and into the garden labyrinth, lest old Ferguson snatches you up for a dance and let his gaze wander elsewhere. For the first time since the sun had set, your aching feet finally find some relief. You drop onto the edge of the stone fountain as you toss your heels to the side. You begin working your fingers through your hair, ripping the glittery ribbons from your head. It’s not until you’re unclasping your necklace that you realize you are crying. Tears fall from your eyes, and they sink deep into the fabric of your dress. 
You barely hold back your sobs. Your chest heaves as you hiccup; your vision goes blurry as your fingers grow numb. There’s nothing you can do but cry. 
You’ve used up all your smiles for tonight. 
But then, the sadness turns into resentment and then turns into indignation. Harshly, you wipe the tears from your eyes as you rip a violent scream from your throat. 
You sink to the ground, perfectly polished nails digging into the soil as you gather patches of grass and tear them from the roots. You throw a handful of mud at the marble statues. You grab another fistful of mud, scream, then bash your head against the garden floor. You let out another cry, whimpering as you curl into yourself; shivering as a gust of wind brushes against your skin. Surprisingly enough, this is the most human you’ve ever felt. This is the most you have ever felt — period. 
When hiccups regress into soft sniffles, you lay on your back, watching the stars float above. As the last of your tears slide down your cheek, you lift a shaky hand to trace the constellation in the sky. It’s not a familiar one to you, but then— 
“That’s Sirius.” 
You sit upright in a snap, wiping away the wetness from your eyes as you muster a mean glare at the newcomer.
Sirius Black.
“Oh, none of that,” He tells you when you move to stand. There’s barely any emotion on his face and it irks you that you can’t figure out what he’s planning. What you don’t expect is for him to sit beside you, thereby ruining his expensively tailored suit. 
“You’ll get creases,” You scold him instinctively, nose scrunched — but your voice is hoarse; too tired to put up any pretences. “Your mother will be cross with you.” 
Sirius scoffs, laying his head on the dirt, making sure to smear his sleeves with grass stains. “Walburga can go fall in a ditch and die for all I care.”
You gasp. “That’s horrible!” 
Sirius gives you a look. “You don’t believe that.” 
You really don’t, but you don’t have the courage to admit it either. 
After a few moments of silence, Sirius asks, raising a brow, “So who was that?”
“Who was who?” You stare at him with knitted brows, toying with your fingers. You still can’t wrap your head around how weird this is — sitting with Sirius Black in the middle of your mother’s hedge maze, your once bright blue dress now sullied at the ruffles, eyes bloodshot and your hair a frizzy mess. (Sirius thinks you look cute, though; especially with your missing front tooth that peeks out every time you talk to him.) 
“Bald guy, older than Merlin himself.” Sirius makes a face. “Looks like a troll. Smells like one, too.”
A giggle flutters past your lips, and your hands fly to your mouth. You really shouldn’t be bad-mouthing your guests, but Sirius was right — Ferguson really did act like an ugly troll. You sigh, letting your arms fall to your side. “My betrothed.” 
Sirius nods in understanding. “My mother tried to set me up with my own cousin once.” 
You grimace. “Which cousin?” 
He sits on his knees to face you, and with a very solemn face, he says, “Bellatrix.”
This time, you laugh freely, throwing your head back as Sirius pouts at your amusement. “O-Oh, that’s golden.” 
“No, it’s not,” says Sirius, lips twitching as he watches you snort like a pig through your giggles. “It’s horrible. A literal nightmare. You should feel awful for me.” He pokes your stomach, and it just makes you laugh harder, eyes disappearing into your smile. “Oi. I said feel awful, not take the piss out of me.” 
“S-Sorry.” You wheeze, batting away his hand pulling at your cheek. “I just can’t imagine Bellatrix in a white wedding dress and saying her vows to you.”
“That’s disgusting.” Sirius gags. “You’re horrible, I hope you know that.” 
When you finally calm down and Sirius tickles your bare feet until you cry in surrender, the two of you lay on the grass as he points out each constellation to you. Later, he fishes a small box of sugar mice from his pocket and offers it to you, opening one for himself. “Here’s to shitty parents and the one day we get to decide our own future.” 
You bump your squeaky candy mice against his. “Cheers, Black.” 
“Will you go to Hogwarts next year?” He asks you once he’s bitten off the tail of his mice. 
You nod. 
Sirius shifts on his side, holding his pinky out to you. “We’ll be friends when school starts?”
Again, you nod, wrapping your pinky around his. “Friends.” 
The next September comes, Sirius finds a compartment and one James Potter in it. You sit with Allegra Greengrass and Endora Lestrange on the way to Hogwarts. You are sorted into Slytherin, and Sirius finds freedom and a home in Gryffindor. You play the role created just for you; you lift your nose at those beneath you, adorn yourself in custom-made silk clothing, and carry yourself with the etiquette of a pure-blooded lady. Perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect clothes, always picture perfect.
You pretend that Allegra doesn’t throw up in the evenings from the fear of getting married to a man twice her age. You pretend that you don’t notice Endora sleep-walking and begging for her mother to save her from her father. You pretend that under your blankets, in the Slytherin dungeon, you are safe. 
You pretend that it doesn’t hurt when Sirius looks at you in disappointment when you shove a Hufflepuff student to the ground for getting a higher score than you in Charms.
They call you an ice-princess behind your back, and you overhear some of the fifth-years calling you foul words as well, and no one steps in to stop them; there’s no defending a Slytherin, after all. But you are keeping your head above treacherous waters, and you suppose that is all that matters.) 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“SO ACCORDING TO THIS, Eloise was stuck in 1402 for five days until she was retrieved to the present, which means we only have four days left to figure out a way for you to get back home.” 
Harry sinks into his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The two of you had found an empty classroom to discuss your plans away from inquisitive ears. “What’s the rush?” It’s unfair, he’d only just met you, and now he’s losing time with you. 
You sigh. “Harry, Eloise Mintumble spent five days in the past and when she came back, her body aged five centuries, and she died in St. Mungos. It’s not just about altering the whole timeline, you could actually die.” 
When you are met only with silence, you close the book, frowning. “Harry? What’s wrong?” 
Harry swallows the lump in his throat, looking out the window to avoid your gaze. “What do you know about the Mirror of Erised?” 
Your head tilts in confusion. “That it shows our heart’s deepest desire.” 
“Yeah,” says Harry, nodding. “I was eleven when I found it.” 
“Oh, Harry. . .” 
It’s almost pathetic how quickly his eyes water. “Did you know, before today, I hadn’t known at all what your voice sounded like?” 
You stay quiet, and Harry sucks in a shaky breath. 
“When I looked into the mirror, I saw my parents—all of you. There I was, in the middle. You were behind me—happy.” Harry swipes a tear from his eye. “I wanted to stay in that room, stare at that mirror forever.”
“It’s—”
“Dangerous, I know.” He laughs bitterly. “Just like finally being able to meet you all here.”
“Harry, you aren’t supposed to be here in the first place,” You say quietly, eyes drooping sadly. 
“I know that!” He exclaims desperately. “But is it so selfish to just want some time? I don’t want an illusion, I want the real thing. A real family. Why can’t I have that? Bloody Malfoy gets everything he wants, and what do I have?” 
“Your friends,” You tell him firmly. “Your friends who must be worried sick that you’re gone and must be going great lengths to bring you back.” 
“I know.” Harry wilts. He’s got Remus at home, too, who probably needs him more than ever after Sirius’s death. “I know. But can’t I just have this one thing?” 
You purse your lips for a moment, brows furrowed in thought. Then, you break the silence with: “Do you want to hear a story?”
“What?” Harry croaks, peering at you through wet lashes. 
Shrugging, you say, “Stories to remember us by. I’ve got six years worth of stories and then some. I know it’s not much, and you’ve probably heard some of these already from the others in the future, but it’s better than nothing, right?” You lean against the back of your chair, glancing at the wall clock before grinning at Harry. “We’ve got time to spare, anyway.” 
Harry manages a smile, setting down his glasses before rubbing his stinging eyes with the handkerchief you offer him. He figures this is what Remus means when you’re the gentlest creature he’s ever known — just not gentle in what the world expects you to be. 
“What do you say, Harry? I give you tidbits of the past, and you tell me if you know anything about the next Triwizard champion, so I can place my bets in advance.”  
Harry snickers. “Not a chance, mum.” 
“Worth a try.” And the smile you give him is nearly blinding. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1977; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
YOU DON’T UNDERSTAND what it is about Gryffindors and their hobby of invading others’ personal space. 
A year into dating and James likes to shove his head under your shirt, claiming he loves the sound of your heartbeat — but you know really what he wants to nestle his head in between. The amount of cashmere blouses he’s ruined is absurd! Sirius has a hobby of tracing runes on the plane of your stomach. Lily prefers it when you sit in front of her, just within reach where she can wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your shoulder. Remus tends to lag behind the group when he notices you walking slower due to your leg flaring up. He kisses the side of your head and promises to chase the pain away — sappy poetic that he is. And in the moments where all five of you are together, tucked under a wide alcove, you can best believe there is no escaping what they like to call, a cuddle pile. Limbs are tangled, kisses are shared, and confessions of love are whispered. 
Before them, you hadn’t really known the different ways to love and be loved. 
Onto the pressing matters at hand, you discover that the brazen show of affection extends to their parents as well. Particularly, the Potters. After a year, you finally caved into James’s requests for you to spend the holidays at their manor, since the others have already made a space for themselves there, and James had said it would be an honor for you to feel at home with his parents, too. Honestly, you spoil them too much — one look into his bright, wide eyes and you gave in. James didn’t even care that you brought two luggages for clothes alone; he lifted each bag with delight and with ease. 
(Remus had the audacity to laugh when he caught you and Sirius staring at James’s flexed muscles, mouth wide open. 
“As I have said, Remus Lupin, I do not drool!”
“Sure, dove, whatever you say.”)
But now, you really aren’t so sure of your decision. 
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Jamie!” Euphemia encases you in a bear hug the moment you step inside the manor. You’re engulfed in the scent of cinnamon and burnt sugar. You stiffen as she cradles your face in between her palms, smiling ever so fondly at you, cooing about how precious you look, much like a mother would — and how your mother never did. You wonder if this is what you’ve been missing all along — the thought stabs you right in the heart. “Please excuse the mess, dear, we haven’t had the chance to clean up yet, Monty and I are excited to try the recipe Lily owled to us the other day, you see.” 
“I-It’s okay,” You rasp, struggling to hold back the tears. 
“Oh, what a darling you are!” Euphemia smiles and ushers you further inside. “Come, come. The others are right upstairs. You must be tired from the train ride. It is so lovely to finally meet you. Make yourself at home, dear heart — James Fleamont Potter! Give your mama a kiss this instant! Don’t think introducing your girlfriend will distract me from the fact you didn’t owl me letters for two months straight!” 
James whines as he hides behind you. “Mum, I’m seventeen, stop embarrassing me.” 
Euphemia scoffs, hands snapping to her hips. “You’re going to be my baby boy forever, now come here.” 
With a shy smile, you step away to surrender James to his mother — you don’t understand which part of this is embarrassing; you wish for a mum who’d welcome you home like that, with unconditional love and kind eyes. James squawks and calls you a traitor, just before his mum attacks him with loud, exaggerated kisses to his cheek, leaving lipstick stains all over his face. You hide a laugh behind your palm, ignoring the way your heart pangs at the sight of their unrestrained smiles. Euphemia lets her son go after a few more seconds, cackling at the masterpiece she’s created on a grumbling James, who’s rubbing his skin to erase his mother’s affections. She hugs you once more before setting you off, telling you to meet Fleamont after you’ve unpacked. 
Just as you reach the foot of the stairs, you hear a girlish squeal, then the sound of rapid footfall against each wooden step. Lily greets the two of you by jumping off the last step and wrapping each arm around yours and James’s neck. “Welcome home, Jamie!” She captures his lips with her own before doing the same to you, cupping your cheek lovingly, “So happy you made it, princess! How was the ride here?” 
You were never a fan of traveling by Floo; it made you nauseous after, and left you with a pounding headache for hours. Without hesitation, the others offered to accompany you on the train, but you insisted they Floo ahead to Godric’s Hollow — it took a lot of convincing, but they finally agreed, (they’re not the only ones spoiled; they couldn’t refuse you, too.) With the exception of James, who wanted to be there when you saw his home for the first time. You nearly cried when you saw how well-loved their manor was; rose shrubs dipped in snow, Sirius’s motorcycle parked outside, a mailbox with poorly painted shapes, the fences covered in Christmas lights, and the amount of shoes by the door. From outside, you could hear the laughter and warm conversations. 
“It was fine,” You say in a daze.
Lily sees right through you — and frowns sadly. “You alright?” 
Were you? 
You catch sight of the moving photographs of James and you finally reach your breaking point. There’s a swell in your throat that you can’t seem to push down. There’s a photo of James, Lily, Remus and Sirius; James is in his Quidditch jersey, raising the Golden Snitch high up in the air, Remus is twirling Lily, his arms around her waist, and Sirius is holding up a charmed banner that says: Gryffindor Rules! Slytherin Sucks! Except For My Darling Angel Love Of My Life Most Beautiful And Gorgeous Perfect Brilliant Girlfriend! 
There are hints of life all around the manor. Remus’s textbooks and scarf are laid by the coffee table. Lily’s O.W.L. marks are framed on the wall, along with Dumbledore’s letters to James and Lily awarding them the position of Head Girl and Head Boy, as well as McGonagall’s previous letter to Remus that came with his Prefect badge years ago. There’s a spot dedicated to Peter, filled with a photograph of him awkwardly holding his Herbology test, one that he scored a hundred and twelve percent on. It’s a wall dedicated to them, you realize. 
Then, you find it. 
Right there, up above James’s spot, and beside Sirius’s display of beyond perfect Transfiguration exam marks, and a picture of him and Remus kissing each side of your face. 
It’s a space on that wall just for you. 
James follows your gaze and rubs the back of his head, ears tinged with a shade of deep pink. “Mum left a space when I first told her about you. I-It’s yours, you can put anything you want there.” 
“I can’t,” You whisper, lips quivering as your heart cracks into a million pieces. It’s too much. 
James blinks. “Can’t? It’s yours, I promise. Mum won’t mind. You can even hang your dumb Montrose Magpies poster and I won’t tear it down — Marauders’ honor. I can help you if you want. I-I’m not good as decorating as Lily, but I paid attention to your boring explanation of color theory and I know that you hate this shade of—”
“James, I can’t do this.” 
That’s all you say before you run out of the door. 
(And you’re absolutely delusional if you think James won’t follow you out that door and into the brewing snowstorm.) 
You hear James call out to you, but you opt to ignore him and clutch your winter coat tighter around your body, shivering in the blowing wind, trudging through the deep snow through your heeled boots — designer couldn’t help you now even if you tried. You sniff, the salty taste of your tears dripping to your lips, chest tightening with a foreign kind of pain, and the frost nipping at your fingers. You give up after a few minutes, falling to the ground with an anguished cry, hand clutching the front of your chest as you struggle to breathe. 
James reaches you in a matter of minutes, draping his jacket over you, barely flinching as the cold welts his bare skin. Frantically, he wipes the tears from your eyes, a pained expression on his face as he sees you cry helplessly. “Come on, dove, it’s not safe out here. Let’s go back home, yeah? I’m sorry for upsetting you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I’m so sorry, dove, please don’t cry, it’s killing me to s–see you like this.” Tears fall from his eyes, and he begins stuttering from the cold, but you can’t go back to the manor. “What did I do? Please tell me so I can fix it. I love you—I’m sorry.”
You bat his chest. “G–Go home, Jamie. I’ll just take the train back to the castle.” 
“What?” He shakes his head, grabbing onto your hands. “Y–You can’t. Not in this weather. You’ll get sick if you try to walk back to the station.” 
You withdraw from his hold as you back away from James, slipping into the ice-cold mask you know so well. 
James rises in an instant, reaching for you. “No, no, no, no, no. You don’t get to do that. Not now. Not with me. Please, just come home and I-I’ll fix it.” 
“Goodbye, James,” You tell him firmly, clenching your jaw as you look him straight in the eyes. 
He grimaces. “That won’t work on me, princess, and you know it. Don’t push me away—please.” 
“Go home, James!” You yell bitterly, pivoting on your heel as you march through the thick inches of snow, hearing Remus and Lily’s voice grow louder in the distance. “Just go!”
He grits his teeth, nails digging deep into the palms of his hand. “You’re a coward if you walk away from here—from us—right now!” James shouts through chattering teeth and stray tears. “And I hate cowards more than anything!” 
You don’t look back. 
(Later that night, James stares blankly at the fireplace, tossing twigs now and then. He’s all out of tears. Remus crosses his legs as he sits beside James and offers him a steaming mug of hot chocolate. 
“Don’t want one,” He mutters, words coarse from earlier, head turning away from Remus’s gift. “Just want her.” 
Remus sets the beverage on the ground before pulling James’s head down to his chest, gently wiping the tears from his eyes as he wraps the blanket around both of them. He presses a soft kiss to James’s hair. 
“I said I hated her,” James says weakly. “I don’t—I never will. I just hate that she’s out there spending Christmas all alone. She could be here—with us. I hate not knowing that she’s safe, or that she thinks I don’t love her anymore—that’s a bloody lie, Moony. I adore her. If anything, I don’t deserve her.” 
James finds out that he does have more tears left in him. “I miss her. Bring her back, Rem, please.”
“You’ll cry yourself sick, love.” Remus wipes each tear away. “Let’s go to bed, yeah? Mornings do have a way of bringing miracles to us.” Because after a night of excruciating pain under the moon’s command, he wakes up to sunlight, and there you all are — smiling down at him like he is deserving of love; and maybe Remus can’t fault you for running away.
You’d kiss him gently and tell him how proud you are of him for coming back to you. 
Remus only hopes you come back to them, too.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.)
“AND THAT, dear Harry, is how I humiliated Lucius Malfoy in fifth-year.” Your eyes gleam wickedly as you rest your arms on the school desk. “If he ever bothers you in your time, just mention my name—oh, I wish I could see the look on his face when he realizes I’m haunting him from my grave. Tell him, okay?” 
Harry nods excitedly. “Definitely.”
“Got anymore stories?” He asks. 
You cackle menacingly. “Boy, do I ever. Let me tell you about the one time Beckett McLaggen took me out on a date to Madam Puddifoot’s!” 
Harry grimaces. “Do I even want to hear about this?” 
“Oh, pish-posh.” You dismiss him with a wave. “You do, this story is hilarious. Now that I look back on it, Sirius was quite cross with him for the rest of the day—how strange. I wonder why.” 
Harry stares at you in disbelief. “You’re joking.” 
“I most certainly am not, Harry Potter.” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1974; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
AN EAR-PIERCING scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You snatch your wand from under your pillow, heart thudding against your chest in fear — last year, the Prewett twins decided it was funny to break into the girls’ quarters at midnight; you get a month worth of detention for hitting Gideon with the Expulso curse and suspension from class for two weeks, while the twins get away with a slap on the wrist and have the time of their lives spreading rumors of you being a Death-Eater. 
Endora shoots up to her feet as well, staring at you in panic — then the girl screams again, and you realize it’s Allegra. 
You sigh in relief, lowering your wand before saying to Endora, “I-It’s alright. I’ll handle it.” 
“Are you sure?” Endora asks timidly, gnawing at her lip and wincing when Allegra wails once more. 
“Certain,” You respond, yawning. 
As Endora climbs back into her bed, you slip into Allegra’s side, holding her head to your chest, brushing your fingers through her hair and untangling the knots. Like most of the Greengrass women, she was of ethereal beauty — silky blonde hair, smooth and fair skin, deep blue eyes that enchant wizards and witches alike. But her cheeks have gone sallow from exhaustion, eyes devoid of any emotion, and her skin now sunken into her bones. 
“I don’t want to marry him—I can’t! He’s old enough to be my father!” Allegra sobs violently, desperate for anyone to hear her, but no one really ever hears their cries from the dungeon. “They said they’d wait until I graduated—they promised! I’m supposed to marry him this summer!” 
Your heart breaks for your friend — there’s nothing you can do but hold her until she’s cried every bit of her soul out. 
“I hate them,” Allegra whispers to you; she had been shedding tears for hours, trembling in your arms until morning finally came. 
“I know,” You say defeatedly. 
“I wish I was dead,” She replies lifelessly. “He can’t marry a dead bride.” 
“Don’t say that,” You beg as you hug her tight; afraid to lose her to the world that has worn her down. “Please.” 
Allegra sinks into her pillows, and you follow in suit, hesitantly laying your head beside hers. She stares at the ceiling dully. “The world is so, so cruel to us daughters sometimes. And it’ll be cruel to our daughters, and their daughters. When will it end?” 
“I don’t know,” You say honestly. 
Allegra hums, neither disappointed nor surprised, and turns away to lay on her side. “Pansy,” She mumbles.
“What?”
“If we lived in a better world and I married for love, I’d want to name my daughter Pansy — like the flower.”
(Later that day, you are given detention for beating Evan Rosier to a pulp. He makes a joke about dirty blood, and you snap — you are tired of laughing and pandering to the arrogant men in your life. This is the first time you publicly defy your parents, and it felt good — more than good, it was liberating. It’s like breathing fresh air for the first time. Then, you earn a second detention for storming up to the Gryffindor common room and punching Fabian Prewett in the face — because fourth-year boys had no business sneaking into the girls’ dorm in the middle of the night for some stupid prank — and you threaten him by pointing the tip of your wand deep into his neck, demanding they apologize to you, Allegra, and Endora. 
You get what you want, naturally — as princesses do. You decide then that you’re going to create a world where girls like Allegra don’t cry anymore.)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
HARRY TWINGES WHEN he hears the end of your fourth or fifth story of the afternoon — no wonder you had been so angered by his being in your room. “I-I’m sorry—” 
“Yesterday was hardly your fault,” You interrupt him. “There’s no controlling where magic brings you, not in your case. You didn’t know, but now you know. I don’t hold it against them — anymore. Fifteen-year-old boys can be stupid, and at least they’ve learned from their mistakes. You should have seen your mother — erm, Lily — she looked like she was ready to kill them after finding out what they had done. Even Molly was cross with the twins, and you know how loyal Molly is to her family.”
Oh, Harry knows.
And Hermione knows it all too well. 
“Others call us evil, conniving and cruel, Harry,” You tell him grimly, “But I will protect my own, no matter what I have to do.”
At that moment, Harry thinks he understands why some people come to fear Slytherin. 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.) 
“LOOK, LILY-PAD, the princess is drooling again.” 
You open your eyes to glare at Sirius. “I don’t drool, idiot.” 
Lily chortles as she presses a kiss to your shoulder. “Of course you don’t, princess.”
Currently, you’re lying on a shabby loveseat that is too small to hold the three of you; it’s the only furniture in the new cottage you call home, where Potter Manor was right across the street. (Euphemia was ecstatic to have you all nearby — the lovely woman was sprite for her age, but you notice the way she stops to sit and catch her breath, Sirius and James hovering over her attentively; you’re good at pretending, so you pretend that the Potters will be around forever.) Some rooms are dusty with cobwebs, walls unfinished, with the floors creak under your feet, and there’s no other place you’d rather call home. 
You’re in between Sirius and Lily; your lips swollen from their kisses, cheeks flushed and the column of your throat graced with love marks. It’s the most beautiful set of jewelry you’ve ever worn, not even burmese rubies could compare. Lily’s hand rests under your jumper, Sirius’s thigh wedged between your own. While peace blankets the three of you, James and Remus have yet to come home from their task given by the Order. 
“You need a haircut, my love,” You mumble drowsily, pulling at one of the dark ringlets — it’s gone past his shoulders now. He captures your hand and leaves a delicate kiss on your fingertips. 
Lily buries her nose in your hair. “She’s right, Siri.” 
“I’m always right.” You pout. 
Sirius, love-sick fool that he is, smiles as he tilts your chin with his finger and ensnares you in a kiss that leaves you breathless. “Course you are — our girl’s bloody brilliant, isn’t she, Lily-pad?”
“Without a doubt.”
You roll your eyes at their antics, rolling around so that your back is pressed to Sirius’s chest — they’re not fooled, however; Lily sees the way your eyes flicker in amusement and the way your lips threaten to curve up into a smile. She traces the swell of your lips with her thumb, to the dip of your nose, and to the apples of your cheek. Sea-green eyes beam at you.
“I love you,” says Lily, committing every inch of you to her memory as she wears a melancholic smile. “I don’t know who told you that you don’t deserve to be loved, but they were wrong. You are so precious to us, dove, you don’t even know how much. This right here is real — and nothing could ever change that.” 
As it turns out, you did have more smiles to give — only the happy ones; not the fake, courteous smiles that you had given to your mother’s friends in the past. You come to intertwine your hand with Lily’s, the one that had been resting on your cheek, tenderly wiping the tears that pooled within your eyes. Your heart could burst from your chest. They had a habit of wringing every emotion out of you; of making love feel real, not just a myth from a Muggle storybook. And you find, that you didn’t mind this particular habit of theirs. In the comforts of the place you call home, where you irrefutably belong, you are free to seek their arms and fall into their love, and the best part is where you get to love them right back. 
How lucky you are. 
“Let’s get married,” You blurt out, holding your breath, feeling Sirius’s hand on your waist stiffen. 
“What?” Lily gasps breathlessly. 
You smile up at Lily. “Let’s get married. All of us. I don’t care where, o–or about the rings, let’s just get married. With the war going on, we deserve s–something good.” 
Lily sobs as she nods excitedly. “Yes. Oh my Gods—we’re getting married!” 
Sirius stares at you in wonder. “Bloody hell, dove, give a guy some warning, would you?”
You grin. “Is that a yes?” 
“It’s a yes — forever.” Sirius dives in to kiss you senseless. “Couldn’t get rid of us now even if you tried.” 
“I don’t think I’d want to, anyway.” 
Right then, the rickety door slams open, and you hear the loves of your life calling out for the three of you. Followed by the heavy thud of Dragonhide boots plunking down onto the floor
“We’re home!” James announces in the entryway. 
Lily wastes no time in shooting up from the sofa and welcoming them home with quite a unique greeting:
“We’re all getting married!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“That ring is an heirloom passed down to the children in our family,” You tell Harry, pointing to the band around his finger. “It’s meant to symbolize our loyalty and duty to our House. My mother said I would have earned it only when I became a wife to Ferguson Bulstrode.” You chuckle at Harry’s perturbed grimace. “No, I didn’t marry him — thankfully. After Allegra. . . I—I. . . I couldn’t bear it. If I was going to marry, it would be on my own terms, and it would be for love, nothing less. Then, if my child wanted it, I’d give them this ring. I want to leave behind a legacy that I created. When I was younger, I’d resigned to a fate that was forcefully carved by someone else’s hand.” 
You shake your head. “I want to die being remembered by those who loved me. Otherwise, I was never truly alive.” 
Harry won’t let that happen, he won’t ever let your name be forgotten. He’ll share of your kindness to his friends, of your bravery and loyalty. Hermione will love your fondness of Muggle musicals and how you stood up to Lily’s defense in a world that ostracized her for being different. He’ll remind Remus of your love for him, that he had brought you hope in times of despair. Harry is going to make sure the world knows you had been so full of life with endless love to give. You are going to be remembered in the way Voldemort never will. 
“What do the words mean?” He stares at the writing: Tempus Edax Rerum.
You smile. “Time, devourer of all things.”
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1978; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
“REMUS—THE MUGGLES ARE stuck in the telly again!” 
Remus snickers as he takes the vacant space beside you on the loveseat, now sewn up with care and spattered with knitted quilts and throw pillows — still too small to carry three people but hasn’t given out yet, anyway. He takes Lily’s legs over his lap, swiftly stealing a kiss from your lips. “It’s a film, dove, they’re acting.” 
You purse your lips. “They’re trapped inside, then?” 
Lily snorts into her tub of chocolate fudge ice cream. “Not quite, princess, it’s recorded. Movies are like moving photographs — but they’re an hour long with sounds.” 
“Oh.” You turn your attention back to the screen, back to the film Lily had been watching. You had to admit — the story of Sandy and Danny was an interesting one. “Lily-pad, she’s singing — again.” 
Sirius hushes you from where he was cuddling James on the other couch. “She’s supposed to sing, dove, it’s a musical.” 
“Well, yes,” You begin, and James groans into Sirius’s chest, “But they should just talk instead of singing all the time — Sandy’s got a lovely voice, though. I just don’t understand why Danny’s treating her like that! Truthfully, I don’t like any of Sandy’s new friends, other than Frenchy — she’s harmless. If I was Sandy I’d move on from Danny — but then again, that hair and those muscles, and his leather jacket! I can’t blame her.” 
Sirius glowers at you. “You like his leather jacket?” 
“His hair?” James exclaims in horror. 
Remus chuckles as he tucks you in his side, kissing your temple. “If I were you, dove, I’d be quiet and just watch the film.”
“Oh, no, no.” Sirius barely glances at the television as he pauses the film and stands up to point an accusatory finger at you. “Since when were you into leather jackets? Do you think those are cool? Since when? Jamie, should I get one? Let’s unpack this, right now. And his muscles, really?” 
Your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Play the film, Black, I want to see the end of their love story.” 
“I’m telling Euphemia on you!” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1976; CURRENTLY, IN THE PAST.) 
“—and then we realized that we accidentally locked Hermione in with the troll.” Harry’s arms flail about as he shares some of his adventures with you — it had only been fair. He felt like a young boy again, entering Hogwarts for the first time as he watched you listen to him intently, gasping at tale of the vanishing glass and scolding him when he says he and Ron had decided to go searching for Hermione, and by extension, the troll. 
Your eyes grow wide. “A troll? In Hogwarts? They can’t have, not unless—”
“Someone let it in—I know!” Harry grins. “You’re not going to believe who let the troll in the castle.” 
You snap your fingers, “Malfoy, the older one. I know that lump’s got something to do with this. Can’t have been Snape or Quirrell.”
“Just you wait.” Harry’s eyes twinkle with mischief. “—and so, Professor McGonagall finds us, and can you believe it? She awards us for dumb luck! Then. . .” 
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1979; ORIGINAL TIMELINE.)
IT HAD COME AS A surprise when you volunteered to join the Order of the Phoenix. You wanted to scoff at their shocked faces — was it so surprising that you wanted to protect your family? They let Severus Snape join their ranks, and you’re fairly certain that you’re a better fighter and survivalist than him — not the better liar, however, he can have that one. The week before, you and the others had an argument that lasted for the whole day. They did not want you in harm’s way, and you would rather die than stay at home, waiting idly for them to return, when you could be out there alongside them. 
(“It’s not some game out there!” Remus runs through his hair in frustration — he had always been so careful to never raise his voice at you, but this one time, he needed you to back down. “Every time you step into a raid, there’s a possibility of you dying, don’t you understand that? And even if you survive — you’ll have blood on your hands, and it does not wash away no matter how many times you try, trust me, we know.” 
“So what?” You throw your hands up in the air, equally aggravated. “I just stay here like some. . . some pet waiting for their owners to come home?” 
“Yes!” Lily angrily replies. “That is the whole point of us joining the Order — so you get to live another day. So we all have a chance at this new world without a war. Let us protect you!”
You grind down on your jaw. “You have got another thing coming, if you think I’m not going to fight tooth and nail for my future.” 
James slams a fist onto the kitchen counter. “There are horrors out there you can’t even imagine. I-It’s worse than we thought. It’s our every nightmare come to life.” 
You raise your chin defiantly. “Then we face it together.”)
Each day, you survive, and each day the five of you return home — scarred and bruised, but safe within the arms of one another. When you collapse and crumble, it is only for the walls of your home to witness. 
Now a month into autumn, you are on your first task without Sirius, James, Lily or even Remus. Instead, you are assigned by Dumbledore to Knockturn Alley along with Peter Pettigrew and Gideon Prewett. How strange time was, years ago you’d never associate with the proud Gryffindors, and now you had to trust them to guard your back. Everyone had to grow up quickly during war, even pranksters. 
The alley was quiet — too quiet for your liking. You had been on alert since the moment you apparated into the area, wand at your ready. The back of your neck prickled with goosebumps as you kept an ear out for any sign of movement. 
Peter shivers and you glance at him — he’s become far too skinny, constantly shrinking into himself out of fear. And while you want to comfort him, you keep your eyes up ahead. Still, there's a nagging feeling that you can’t quite make out. It’s different from all the other times you’ve been asked to search and rescue. 
“Don’t you feel like there’s something wrong?” You ask Gideon, eyes snapping to the flock of crows flying overhead. 
“Dunno, kid,” Gideon says, nudging your shoulder with pressed lips. “Everything about this is freaking me out. The place is too empty.” 
“I get what you mean,” You reply, swallowing your own nervousness. Without waiting for the rest, you speed up your pace. “I’ll scout ahead, who knows what’s been here before us. I don’t want to risk any of our lives, so let’s be careful. Gideon, ward the area while I check for any cursed objects, last time you almost got your arm cut off by a newspaper of all things. And Peter, could you. . . Peter?” 
When you turn to check behind you, it all happens so fast. 
“Avada Kedavra!” 
You scream as Gideon’s deathly pale body falls to the floor. 
“No!” 
You aren’t given a moment to rush to his side — someone digs their wand in the side of your neck, and you stiffen in their hold. It’s not until they hiss in your ear that you recognize the voice. 
“Rosier.” You spit, biting down on your lip when he presses the tip of his wand further into your flesh. 
“Stupid witch,” He taunts, eyes dilating with vengeance. “Where are your lovers now?” 
“Jealous?” You claw at his arms, chest heaving up and down. “We don’t have room for one more, sorry.”
“Shut up!” He pushes you to the ground in blind rage, and that’s all the opening you need. 
“Expulso!” 
Each curse you send his way lands on his cloaked body, sending him staggering backwards. With ease, you deflect each spell he counters with. You’re winning, he is growing tired, and perhaps that is why you let your guard down. 
“Accio wand!” 
The magic fizzles out, and the spell dies on your lips. As you swivel your head to find out who’s stolen your wand, you expect to find another Death Eater — except it’s Peter. Just Peter Pettigrew, quivering in his boots with tears and snot dripping down his face, your wand in his free hand. You furrow your brows — it doesn’t make sense. 
“Peter?” You call out. 
“Crucio!” 
The curse finds its home in your body — and it sinks deep into your flesh, grinding your bones until you slump to the ground, wriggling as you draw blood from your lips, refusing to let them hear an ounce of your pain. Blood trickles down your nose as you hear Evan Rosier dancing around you in glee. You know this curse well; the sound of your father condemning you gleefully echo in your head. You crawl over to Gideon — hand desperately reaching for his shirt. 
“Crucio!” Rosier grabs you by the hair and howls with laughter. “Scream for me again—Crucio!” 
It’s as though someone had begun to rip you in half. Your bones shift and crack with every uttered curse. The veins in your eyes have popped and through bloody vision, you see Peter cowering away from you.
“You—fucking—traitor,” You gurgle, throat welling up with blood that’s risen from your stomach. “They’ll—never—forgive you—never.” 
“Crucio! Crucio! Crucio! Come on, witch — SCREAM! Look at her go, Pettigrew, crawling like some pathetic worm.” 
You lay in your owl pool of blood, wearing a body that is marred and lacerated. But you see something in Gideon’s hand. I’m sorry, you want to tell him. I’ll get you home to Molly, you promise, please lend me your magic this once. With every last bit of your strength, just as Rosier directs another curse at you — one you know you won’t survive — you snatch the wand from Gideon’s hand and tear the last of your magic from your throat. 
“Defodio!” 
You wait with a bated breath as silence fills the alley; lucky to have remembered Professor Flitwick’s quick remark as to how the slight difference in pronouncing a charm could alter its effect. Rosier stands on shaky legs, a stream of blood leaking from the corner of his mouth. You watch as he looks down to his chest, where a gaping hole now lies instead of where his ribcage and heart should be. As Gideon had done before him, Evan Rosier crashes to the ground. 
That just leaves one more problem. 
Peter scurries to your side the moment Rosier can hurt him no longer. “I-I’m sorry—I’m sorry. I had to. . . T–They killed my mum, they killed M–Mary, and t–they said I would die too if I d–didn’t do this. I’m sorry. Y–Your father was there, too. He said he would take you in, let you l–live if you joined us. W–We can live, t–there’s still a chance for us to survive.” 
Your fingers are bent at unsightly angles, the remnants of the Torture Curse still flowing through your veins, but your face contorts in anger as you let your hand curl around his neck. He sobs louder, and though your grip is weakening — you make sure he looks into your eyes, that he feels your touch.
“I’d rather—die.” You say through gritted teeth, nails drawing blood from his grimy skin. “You’ll die too—you’ll feel my blood on your skin—everywhere you go, Peter.” 
Peter shakes his head, now clumsily pushing his wand down to the center of your chest. “Y–You were the only o–one who d–didn’t laugh at me. N–Not like the others.” 
“When they find out—you’re dead, Pettigrew.” You laugh darkly as more blood exits your body through your lips. “There’s nowhere you can hide—you’re a dead man.” 
“P-Please die,” Peter cries out, each killing spell coming out as a garbled whisper. “Please die,  s–so I can live. I c–can’t fight anymore, I’m tired.” 
Your vision goes a hazy shade of white, Peter’s silhouette fading away to the familiar scenery of your cottage in Godric’s Hollow. 
Oh.
Dying is less painful than you had expected it to be. It’s like coming home after a day’s work. 
You just wanted to rest now. 
The world caves in on you, and you barely hear Peter’s next words. 
“Avada Kedavra.” 
(It’s past midnight when Peter Pettigrew arrives at Grimmauld Place, where it’s been altered to host the members of the Order, Lily sobs in relief and gathers him in her arms. 
You’ll feel my blood on your skin.
You’re a dead man. 
Dead, dead, dead, dead, dead, dead. 
“Oh, I’m so glad you’re home safe — welcome home — thank the Gods you’re alive,” Lily blabbers through her tears, checking his face for any major injuries. “Merlin, what happened? There’s too much blood on you. It’s on your shirt and your face.” 
“It’s not mine,” says Peter hoarsely. 
Sirius’s gaze darkens, arms crossed over his jacket as he leaned against the wall. “Where is she?” 
Lily nods, standing on her tiptoes to search for any sign of you. “Peter? I–Is she alright? Has something happened to her?” 
Peter stays silent for a moment too long, and he finds himself slammed against the wall behind him, Sirius snarling in his face as he seizes the front of Peter’s soiled shirt. “Where the fuck is she, Pettigrew?” 
Peter begins to weep. “I–It was an ambush. None of us saw it coming. Gideon r–ran. She was taking on two Death-Eaters at once and I–I was too far away.” 
Lily collapses to the ground with a heart-wrenching scream.
Sirius growls as he drives his fist to the wall, inches away from Peter’s face. “Where is her body?” 
“It was a disintegration spell.” With Severus Snape — brought to the Malfoy Manor to be made as an example of what happens to blood-traitors. 
James pushes Sirius out of the way and grabs a hold of Peter, knocking his head against the concrete. “It should have been you—” James snaps at Peter. “If it came down to you or her—you should have saved her!” 
“W-What?” Peter stammers, eyes wide. “She chose to save m–me.” 
James sneers at him. “You should have just died.”)
. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .
(1996; CURRENTLY, IN THE PRESENT.) 
ST. JEROME’S GRAVEYARD had exactly one visitor. Remus Lupin sits in between James and Lily’s graves, a bottle of firewhiskey in his hand — four empty at his side. He must be going crazy. There’s no funeral for Sirius as there’s no body to actually bury, Harry is presumed missing after an attack in Diagon Alley, and your name stares back at him mockingly. He tries not to dwell on your passing — there have been too many holes, too many details left unsaid; and he knows just the rat who has all the answers. Unfortunately, Wormtail won’t come out of whatever hole he’s crawled into. Either him, or Severus. 
He sighs, rubbing the temples of his head to ease the growing pains. 
You are the first to be buried of the five. Like Sirius, there had been no recovered body to lay to rest, but they asked for a compromise instead. Your name is engraved under Euphemia’s in her tombstone, and Remus figures it’s the fitting place to leave you be — with your mother, welcoming you home with open arms. He hopes you’re at peace, wherever you are. (Because, honestly, at this point, he might just fucking follow you.) 
Remus takes another swig of his alcohol, laughing bitterly to himself. He glances at James’s headstone and raises his bottle to him. “Not even in death, huh?”
He downs the last of the drink, rising to his tremulous legs. Remus gathers the flower bouquets he had bought earlier this morning; lilies-of-the-valley for Lily, white carnations for Euphemia, forget-me-nots for you, and for James — Remus leaves a moving photograph of him and Sirius; it’s a snapshot taken by Lily during the wedding as James dips his head low to kiss Sirius. Remus thinks it’s a wonderful memory to remember them by. 
“Take care of them for me, Jamie.”
And that is all the goodbyes Remus has the strength for. 
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end note. i think i was crying the whole time i was writing this part, LMAO. i should be able to wrap things up in the next one. important!! there is actually a scene i was hesitant to include, but i ended up writing anyway. it's the whole part where allegra greengrass breaks down, and it was difficult for me to decide because i knew the implications; that i had a strong underlying message in that part, and i don't want it to be misconstrued or anything. pls pls tell me if it comes off as offensive, i definitely don't want to hurt anyone. nevertheless, thank you again so so so much for reading!! if you spot a plot hole, no you didnt!! i hope the time-jumps weren't too confusing! again, thank you so so much for reading!!
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ellecdc · 1 month
Note
Part two of feisty slytherin reader where it’s just the boys being like kinda in love with reader and everything you can pick how reader responds
this ended up taking me way longer to complete than I thought it would! it also ended up way longer than usual. here's the lead up to our infamous poly!marauders x feisty!slytherin reader!!! 🫶
poly!marauders x feisty, fem slytherin!reader CW: head injury - not graphic or detailed but mentions blood.
“Okay Moony, if you’re going to help us win over Y/N, you should know she does not like dramatic public displays of appreciation.” James said sagely as he walked into their shared dorm room.
Remus spared Sirius a confused look from his seat in the chair, but from the way James was currently rubbing his arm Sirius had a pretty good idea of what just took place.
“Yeah, erm, I don’t think you have to worry about that with me, bubs. Thanks for the heads up though.” Remus added bemusedly.
“Let me guess.” Sirius taunted, rolling over onto his stomach so that he faced James. “The charmed roses following her around the halls wasn’t a hit?”
“No, but she did...” He sulked, pulling his uniform shirt off to expose a small albeit quite red welt on his upper arm.
“Awe, poor Jamie. Come here bubs.” Remus cooed at him, opening his arms to invite the boy into his lap. 
James obliged all too willingly and snuggled up to the werewolf like he was a small toddler and not a giant beefy man-baby. 
“Don’t mollify him when he’s out here botching our grand plans to woo the girl of our dreams.” Sirius said, causing Remus to roll his eyes and James to scoff indignantly.
“Well at least I’m working on it! What are you doing to woo her?” James retaliated.
Sirius offered him a wolfish grin. “Oh, I’ve got a little trick up my sleeve.”
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You had to get out of the castle. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you, ogling you like you were some kind of freakshow. 
You don’t know what kind of game those Gryffindor’s were trying to play, but you were not about to be the butt of whatever sodding joke this was.
Roses, really? Charmed to follow you around the castle as Potter smirked from the sidelines. Did he have any idea how humiliating that was?
       So, yeah. You walloped him. In the arm. With your fist. Hard. But what else were you supposed to do!? You’d confronted him and demanded that he end the charm and all he said was ‘you look so cute when your nose scrunches up like that’.
He and Black have always been a bother – seemingly having taken some kind of interest in you for whatever reason. Lupin had always been more reasonable; one would think that he’d have evened those two out during their relationship, but apparently that was an impossible task. You supposed it was because he was all but one man.
But lately, even he was starting to stare at you a little too long, smile a little too softly, find too many excuses to be in your vicinity. It was infuriating.
So, you were outside.
It was nice outside. 
Well, it was nice enough outside. 
You packed yourself some snacks in your book bag, two blankets and an extra jumper to go sit by the Black Lake. You figured you should be able to enjoy some peace and quiet out here on your own.
You unfolded one of the blankets to lay onto the ground before sitting on it and then laid the second blanket over your lap. You could hear other students on the grounds in the distance and the soothing sound of the water lapping gently against the shore. 
As luck would have it, a certain dog with long-black hair would set out to disrupt that.
“What are you doing here?” You asked the dog as it approached you calmly. You wondered for a moment if you should be scared before it stopped at the edge of your blanket to sit and tilt its head at you, his tongue falling out of his mouth haphazardly. 
He didn’t look too scary, ignoring his size.
You craned your neck to look around, checking if perhaps he was here with someone, but it appeared that you were, in fact, alone on this side of the lake.
You felt something cold and wet nudge your pinkie, and you turned to see that the dog had laid down beside you with his head between his paws, nose next to your hand.
“If I pet you, are you going to bite me?” You asked him. He answered by nudging your hand again and offering it a little lick.
“You better not have fleas.” You muttered as you scratched behind the dog’s ears. You would have sworn he had furrowed his eyebrows at your comment if dogs could do such a thing. You noticed then that the dog had startling silver-blue eyes. 
“Where are your people?” You asked, glad no one was around to see you conversing with a dog. He answered you by rolling over for belly rubs.
You scoffed out a laugh but acquiesced. “Fine, you can stay. But I came out here for peace and quiet, ‘kay?”
The dog seemed fine with that plan and let you read through two chapters of your book, only interrupting every paragraph or so for more pets. Eventually however, it grew too cold, and you decided to pack up.
Confirming your suspicions, the dog began to follow you towards the castle. You pretended like you hadn’t noticed or perhaps just didn’t care until you were near the greenhouses.
“For future reference, Black,” you said, turning to the dog who seemed to pause mid-step as you considered him. “I really am more of a cat person.” You smirked, turning to walk back to the castle alone.
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“Here, let me get that for you.” James said, opening the door for you rather chivalrously in Sirius’ opinion.
“I’m not a delicate flower, Potter, I can open a door.” You muttered angrily, storming past him into the classroom.
James deflated a little as he followed you in, but perked up when Remus placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
“I thought that was very sweet of you, Jamie.” He placated.
James gave him a half smile in response. “Thanks Moons.”
“I mean, what are we supposed to do? What bird doesn’t like dogs!?” Sirius grumbled, opting to ignore James’ whining. 
“Don’t call her a bird, Sirius.” Remus chided.
“Probably didn’t help you’re a big ol’ mangy mutt.” James muttered petulantly.
“Oi!” Sirius called. “That’s not what you say when Padfoot snuggles you to sleep.” 
James had the good graces to turn a little red at that.
Their conversation was interrupted (quite rudely if you asked Sirius) by Professor McGonagall as she began the instructions for today’s Transfiguration lesson: turning buttons into butterflies. 
Sirius stole a concerned glance towards James to see Remus doing the same; they were horrified to see a mischievous look adorning their boyfriend’s face.
“Prongs...” Sirius warned, whilst Remus whispered a “remember what we talked about.”
But they both knew it was too late; there was no stopping him once James set his mind to something. 
Sirius is quite sure it was the fourth butterfly that did you in; you seemed to consider the first a fluke, the second was annoying, the third made you suspicious, but by the fourth you’d had enough.
With little to no warning you turned and lobbed a large hard-covered tome at the group.
“I don’t know which of you tossers are behind this, but it reeks of Potter. So help me gods I will gut you and string you up to the rafters from your intestines if you don’t leave me alone!” You screeched. 
“But how else will you know I’m crazy about you?” James pouted, causing you to groan exasperatedly.
“If you’re looking for some cutesy princess who will swoon at your sodding roses and butterflies, then you’ve got the wrong witch.” You spat.
Sirius smirked. “Oh, we have exactly the right witch.”
“I swear to Circe if you don’t leave me alone, I’ll sic Barty on you.” You threatened.
Sirius and James both scoffed whilst Remus smirked. 
“Please dollface, you insult me. I’m not afraid of Junior.” Sirius taunted.
You narrowed your eyes at him menacingly before realization dawned on you. “Fine.” You said simply, giving Sirius a distinct uneasy feeling. “Perhaps I’ll tell Regulus.”
Sirius slammed his fist on the table and leaned forward. “You wouldn’t.” He seethed.
You smirked deviously. “Just try me, Black.” You sneered in response. 
Did...did Sirius have a degradation kink?
Sirius was ashamed to admit that he had to take a very cold shower after that.
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You had been sitting in the library trying to work on your Potions essay. You had felt fairly safe here seeing as the Gryffindor’s (at least the most problematic ones) had been sanctioned from using the library during quiet study hours on account of their typical foolishness.
Except one.
“Mind if I sit here?” Lupin’s lilting voice sounded from your right side before he sat down without waiting for your response. 
“Why bother asking if you were just going to sit anyways?” You grumbled. 
“Well, it was the polite thing to do.” He said, turning to face you. You held his gaze (his gaze, your glare) until he finally sighed. “I’ll leave if you want me to.”
You considered him for a moment. You couldn’t deny he was the least buffoonish out of the so-called Marauders though you’re not sure that amounted to much.
But he was quieter, kinder, softer around the edges. And he had been far more polite to you than his boyfriends.
“Are you going to flirt with me?”
One of Remus’ eyebrows (the one with the scar running through it, you noticed) raised expectantly as he considered you.
“Let me rephrase that.” You barked quickly, realizing your mistake perhaps a touch too late. “You may sit here, but if you flirt with me, I will stab you with my quill.” You punctuated your threat by blotting his hand which rested on the table with ink from the tip of your quill.
Remus smiled at the sight before returning his amber coloured gaze to yours. “Fair enough. I promise to try to restrain myself, but perhaps you ought to hold onto this hand for me just in case I slip up.” And he – the absolute sodding bastard – slid his left hand comfortably into your right.
You’d never seen someone make a move so assertively and smoothly before. There was nothing to say that any of this even affected Remus as he immediately turned his attention to his book. Was it hot in here? Your hand felt sweaty. Your throat felt tight. Your mouth was dry. Why didn’t you think to bring a bottle of water?!
“Erm,” you started, having to pause to clear your throat. “Just how am I supposed to get my work done with your hand in mine, Lupin?”
You had tried to sound threatening, but based off Remus’ smirk, you’d only managed to goad him further.
“You’re left-handed. Figure it out.” 
These boys were going to be the death of you if you didn’t end up killing them first.
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“You held her hand!?” James screeched in their dorm room that night whilst Remus smirked to himself. Sirius would make fun of James for his dramatics if he wasn’t just a pissed off about this.
“I’ve been working at this the longest out of either of you, and she lets you hold her hand?” He continued.
“She doesn’t like dogs,” Sirius grumbled, gesturing to himself, “she doesn’t like James. But the werewolf? Really. No offence Moons because I absolutely get the appeal.”
James snapped his fingers as he had a eureka moment. “I’ve got it! Remus; bite me!”
“James!” Remus scolded. 
“It’s not fair.” James muttered as he fell onto his bed in defeat. “I’d be so good to her.”
Any ire from Sirius and Remus drained at that as they both moved to join their boyfriend on his bed.
“We know, bubs.” Remus conceded. 
“We just...have to give her time. I’m sure she’ll come around, yeah? I mean, with Remus’ smooth moves, my undeniable charm, and your muscles? We’re unstoppable.” Sirius added, eliciting a smile from Remus and a gentle chuckle from James, though his usual light was diminished.
“We’ve just got to be patient, Jamie.” Remus concluded, causing James to groan.
“Patience.” He spat spitefully.
“A 'James ADHD Potter' special.” Sirius winked before kissing any further protests away from James’ lips.
“We’ve got Moony on our team now, bubs. We’re unstoppable.” He whispered, truly believing what he was saying.
If anyone could break through your hard candy-coating shell to reach the chocolate inside, it was certainly Remus Lupin.
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You’d had the lovely idea of sitting outside on one of the few sunny days that Scotland got to see this time of year. Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone else had the same idea too.
A few Hufflepuffs were playing with a charmed muggle football, kicking it back and forth between the two of them and chasing after it when it opted to fuck off on its own. You didn’t understand the objective of the game, nor did you care to.
Remus and Peter Pettigrew sat on a bench not too far off playing a game of Wizarding Chess that, from where you were sitting, looked like Remus was winning.
You got so caught up in watching Lupin’s game with Pettigrew - in the way that the tendons in his wrist and hands flexed as he moved pieces across the board, and the way that his honey blonde curls fell in front of his eyes causing him to have to blow air upwards so he could see the board - that you noticed something flying at you far too late. 
“Look out!” One of the dumb Hufflepuff’s shouted far too late as their charmed football soared into the side of your head, knocking you clean over where your head cracked painfully against a root of the tree you were sitting under.
You scrunched your eyes tight and tried to will your heart to start beating again and your lungs to cooperate, every part of your body seeming to have tensed out of instinct to protect itself.
“L/N! L/N! Come on, dove, open your eyes.” You heard a voice above you.
Why was the voice so worried? How long were your eyes closed? A gentle hand grabbed your chin and wiggled your head back and forth, causing you to hiss in pain.
“Sod...off.” You gritted through your teeth.
The voice chuckled and wiggled your chin once more. “There she is. Open your eyes for me.”
You hated being told what to do but decided to comply anyways.
You probably should have kept your eyes close because the sight made you feel dizzy for a completely different reason.
Hovering above your frame was Remus Lupin; his knees on the ground beside your elbow, one hand gripping your chin and the other gently moving hair away from your face and head.
“Atta girl.” He said with a smile.
“Get away from me.” You grumbled as you moved to sit up. Though Lupin hissed in protest, he helped you sit up nonetheless. 
“Is...is she okay?” a timid voice spoke from somewhere behind Lupin’s shoulder causing his expression to darken considerably.
“You stupid wankers are so dead.” You spat as loudly as you could manage, though in your current state – that wasn’t very loud at all.
Your message was received loud and clear, however, as the two Hufflepuffs took off in fear.
“My sentiments exactly.” Lupin muttered as he turned back to you, jaw still tense.
You snorted indelicately as you brought a hand to your head. “Please, don’t tell me you actually care about me, Lupin.”
You hissed in pain as your hand came in contact with something warm and wet and slightly sticky. You pulled your hand back in front of you to inspect, only for Lupin to grab your hand rather harshly and wipe the blood away with a handkerchief.
“Is it so impossible to believe that we could actually care for you?” He muttered quietly, eyes focused on your hand, pointedly avoiding eye contact with you. You watched as his curls bounced with each wipe of his hand against yours. You thought of his gentle hands brushing hair away from your wound moments before. You thought of him begging you to open your eyes. You thought of him being the first one at your side when you were hurt.
And you thought about Black finding ways to be with you even when you staunchly refused his company. You thought of him taking time out of his day to tell you how ‘smoking hot’ you looked that day, even though he said it every day before that, too.
And you thought about Potter who always held the door for you, saved you a seat even though you never accepted it, showered you in affection even though it was public and quite embarrassing. And you thought of the way he always had a smile to give you, even when you gave him no reason to smile at all. 
It wasn’t hard to imagine the three of them caring for anyone, quite frankly. Caring seemed to come second nature to those boys.
“No.” You admitted quietly. “It’s not impossible to believe that you could actually care. It’s just impossible to imagine why.”
He stopped rubbing at your hand and met your eye, seemingly contemplating what to say.
“Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey.” He opted for. “Pete, let the boys know where I’ve gone when they’re finished with practice?” Lupin called over his shoulder.
“I can walk myself, Lupin.” You grumbled as he helped you up by your elbow.
“Yeah, yeah.” He grumbled back. “You’re not a delicate flower, we know.”
The two of you more or less muttered back and forth to each other the entire way to the infirmary, Lupin supporting more of your weight than he likely needed too but you didn’t feel the need (nor desire) to complain.
Madam Pomfrey was in the middle of looking after a first year Potions class who accidently set off an explosion of incorrectly brewed Cure for Boils which ultimately left each student (and Professor Slughorn) covered head to toe in painful boils.
“Mr. Lupin, if you could clean the wound for me. And Miss. L/N, drink the pain potion. Do not leave until I’ve had a chance to do a proper examination, okay?” She ordered as you positioned yourself more comfortably on the bed after she determined you weren’t about to die (or currently crying, as most of the first years were). 
You took the pain potion dutifully and placed it back on the table beside your bed before you startled at the sudden cold wet cloth on your head.
“You are not seriously doing this right now, are you?” You spat.
Remus’ eyebrows drew together as his hands continued on in their task. “You heard the matron; I’m supposed to clean it.”
“I can clean it myself, Lupin; I’ll conjure a mirror.” You argued, causing the scarred boy to scoff.
“I do what I’m told L/N, and quite frankly, the matron scares me more than you do.”
“I must be doing something wrong then.” You sighed, thinking you hadn’t said that loud enough to be heard, but a startled laugh escaped Lupin’s lips. 
“Why do you act so volatile?” He asked amusedly.
“It’s not an act.”
“I call bullshit.”
“Well, you call wrong, then, Lupin. I’m an arse and I find everyone exhausting. Deal with it.” You snarked sharply.
Lupin breathed a laugh through his nose. “Maybe we can find out what the hell your problem is over dinner sometime, then.”
Rotten bastard and his smooth talk...
“WHERE IS SHE!?” a voice echoed through the corridor just outside the entrance to the infirmary. Madame Pomfrey needn’t even look up from the boil she was currently draining of puss to know who she was about to scold.
“Mr. Potter, I will have you banned from this infirmary so fast if you raise your voice above so much as a whisper, do not try me. That goes for you too, Mr. Black.” She barked; eyes still focused on the first year’s arm in front of her.
Sure enough, a mop of curly hair, impossibly more wild than usual due to the flight on his broom, poked around the privacy curtains a second before it was joined by a fuming looking Sirius Black.
Potter’s eyes flew to where Remus’ hands were positioned on your head and your stomach lurched at what looked like tears pooling in Potter’s eyes.
“Potter...please, erm, please don’t cry?” You asked awkwardly, leaning away from Remus’ touch as you suddenly became very uncomfortable with this amount of attention.
“She’s alright, Jamie.” Remus sighed, pulling you back over to him gently by the shoulder and continuing his prodding at your wound.
“Who did it?” Sirius spat, arms crossed defensively across his chest and jaw tight as he stared hard at the wound on your head. You were horrified to admit to yourself that he was hot. You’d never really seen it before, how all the girls in your year (and other years) fawned over the long-haired boy.
But he was currently standing in front of you still adorned in his quidditch gear, hair pulled back into a low bun - though he had many fly-aways on account of his recent time in the air - his cheeks still dusted pink from the assertion, and he was currently fuming on your behalf.
Yeah...he was hot. 
“Easy.” Remus warned.
“Answer me!” Sirius spat back.
“Pads. I mean it, leave it.” Remus said with finality.
Your eyes darted nervously between the two boys currently staring each other down, but Potter’s eyes were still steadfast on you.
“Let me, Rem.” He finally said gently – the most gently you’d ever heard from the rambunctious boy as he gently moved Remus aside and took over.
“I’m okay, you know.” You offered, not liking how worked up these boys were currently over you.
“I know.” He agreed. “I just hate to see you hurt.”
“Why?”
“Why?”
“Yeah, why.” You pressed. James looked like you just asked him to calculate the distance between the galaxy of Andromeda and our solar system using the measurement of broomsticks.  
“I... I don’t want to see you hurt?”
“You want to see Snape hurt.” You countered, causing James’ face to harden.
“Snape’s a tosser.” He muttered darkly.
“I’m not any nicer than Snape.”
“See, Y/N. You’re so smart and lovely and perfect, but you are way off on that front.” James said through a laugh. “Snape is prejudiced, vindictive, and a racist blood supremist. You’re just combative.” He explained, punctuating the word combative with a gentle boop of your nose. 
You wanted to break his finger.
But that would be combative, and you would rather die than prove Potter right, so you opted to roll your eyes instead. 
“Did they even hang around to see if she fucking survived or did they just take off to avoid detention?” Sirius spat at Remus, not looking any calmer than he did when he arrived.
“They stayed.” You answered tiredly. “They took off afterwards, and not to avoid detention, but to avoid me.”
“And me.” Remus muttered quietly, looking dangerously close to going back out there to find them himself. 
“Did you threaten them?” Sirius asked severely, though you weren’t sure who exactly he had asked.
“Yes.” You and Lupin both answered exasperatedly. 
Sirius looked between the two of you before letting out a sigh. “Fine, but if I run into them, I’m hexing them into oblivion.”
“Not if I get to them first.” You growled.
Sirius’ face finally softened as he sat on the end of your bed and cautiously touched your ankle under the blankets.
“You sure you’re okay, Y/N?”
And you aren’t sure what did it. 
You weren’t sure if it was the softness you saw in Sirius that you were sure you could have never even imagined possible from a person, let alone someone related to the infamous Black family. Or if it was the eyebrows of Remus Lupin that were furrowed in concern as he dutifully watched his boyfriend finish plastering a bandage to your head, or if it was the unbelievable softness of James Potter’s touch – in complete contrast to his fast, rough, bouncing personality that you were usually subjected to.
But dammit, you felt a tear slip down your cheek.
You wiped it away quickly and nodded your head in yes.
You braced yourself for the teasing, the cooing, the dramatic displays of affection. But Sirius quickly stood and disappeared behind the curtains, James began pouring you a glass of water, and Remus reached into his bag for something.
Remus returned to you first, breaking off a square of chocolate for you. “It’ll help.”
You were too embarrassed to argue and took it, popping it into your mouth dutifully. 
“Here.” Sirius said as he appeared back at your bedside, handing you a vial. 
“What is it?” You asked, your voice taut with emotion.
Sirius’ eyes softened again as he offered you a sad smile. “Calming draught. You can’t have any more pain potion, but this might make you feel better.”
“And if not, maybe you can convince Moony to share more of his chocolate.” James commented with a soft smile.
You grimaced at the taste of the potion and chased it with the water James had poured for you.
“Thank you.” You admitted quietly, shame colouring your tone as you looked to your lap.
“None of that.” Remus said as he handed you another piece of chocolate.
You took it skeptically. “Why do they call you Moony?”
No one said anything for a moment, but you could tell that neither James nor Sirius were moving a muscle as they watched Remus who in turn watched you.
“Because of my lycanthropy.” He said plainly.
You looked at the various scars before you started to laugh. Sirius’ face drained of all colour while James visibly tensed.
“Of course you are. Remus Lupin. Named after a man raised by wolves and the lupus, or wolf constellation. Oh gods, it was predestined, clearly.”
“Are...are you laughing at me right now?” Remus asked incredulously.
“It’s a little funny...no?” You asked back.
He looked as if he were torn between laughing and crying. “I pour my heart out to you – my deepest darkest secret, and you laugh at me?” He asked again, some amusement colouring his features.
“I told you, I’m an arse.” You said with a shrug of your shoulders.
“Does it bother you?” Sirius asked cautiously from the end of your bed, face appearing impassive for all intents and purposes. 
“I don’t see why it should, it’s none of my business.”
“It could be.” Remus input.
“You don’t want me. I’m no good, Lupin.” You stressed, looking back down at your hands.
“Neither am I.” Sirius agreed.
“Me neither.” Remus added.
“I’m n-” James started.
“So what if the only one of us worthy of love and affection here is James?” Sirius said, cutting James off. “It’s not going to stop me from cherishing what I can get - deserved or not.”
You groaned and threw your head back onto the pillow, cringing at the effect the fast movement had on you and the pain that the movement elicited in your neck.
“Okay, what about this.” James conciliated. “You don’t have to agree to be with us, just give us a chance? The time of day? One Hogsmeade trip to let us fawn over you.”
You looked up at his deep brown eyes that felt so warm you wanted to make a home in them. Sirius, in all his bravado, looked pained as he waited for an answer, and Remus smiled encouragingly at you.
“Fine!” You acquiesced with a groan. “One Hogsmeade trip.”
Much to your chagrin, though not really at all, it ended up being way more than just one Hogsmeade trip.
Thank you to @unstablereader who gave us the library handholding prompt 🫶
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bettysupremacy · 3 months
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hii! I was wondering if you could write a fic with reader and any marauder (they all fit) and maybe helping or becoming protective over the reader after a concert or party after a creep follows the reader? 😭
I went through a similar experience with a guy following me around after I went to the restroom after a concert, and it ruined my night if i'm being honest, I was scared 😞 I'm not the most shy of people and usually I can handle myself but it was pretty dark and idk the adrenaline from feeling happy to scared shifted pretty quickly. Luckily I found my friends and let them know and we quickly went back to our car (along with a few dirty looks from my friends god bless lol). I swore I could go to the restroom by myself- will not be doing that again :(
you can ignore this request if it makes you uncomfortable!
thank uu
i’m so sorry that happened to you! “(they all fit)”= poly marauders!
There’s something about post concert depression, especially when you’re with the band.
Your glitter eyeshadow is smudged, eyeliner untouched. You’d been shaken around in the pit of your boyfriends fans, and yet the paint hasn’t budged. God bless water-proof makeup. The world seems prettier like this, touched by alcohol and the feeling of soaring pride for your boyfriends. The glittery lights and signs of time square never fail to dazzle you, even now as you lean against Sirius morosely.
“M’hungry.” You frown, toes tipping up towards Sirius, though you fear the mumble may have been more for yourself.
His attention is diverted towards the boys as they discuss what to do now. Plans of how to get home and where to eat. His finger taps your cheek slowly, his focus paying you no mind. Words like Uber, hotel, room service echo throughout their very repetitive conversation.
“Sirius.”
He looks down, a little shocked and sorry at his own attention. “Yes, lovely?”
“M’hungry.”
“Hungry?” He asks, cringing. You’re about thirty minutes from the hotel, and even then, room service will take another thirty.
“So hungry.”
He sighs, unsure of what to do.
“There’s a hotdog stand over there.” You grab his tattooed bicep to balance yourself as you point to your right.
He thinks, peering down at you. “This won’t ruin your dinner?” It’s midnight, but still.
“No,” you sing, reaching up to cup his cheeks. “I really want a hotdog.
He flushes, looking away from your wandering eyes. Normally he wouldn’t let you out of his sight. They would never let you out of their sight in a place like this. But the cart is in eye view of the boys, and he has faith in you not to stray, even in your inebriated manor. It’s not that they don’t trust you, they just prefer to keep you safe themselves. Is that okay?
“Okay,” He murmurs, pulling out his wallet, handing you his card. “At least get the good toppings.”
“I always get the good toppings.” You pull away.
The walk is short and the cart is colorful. Red and white stripes, curvy calligraphy. It shines in your inebriated vision. Beautiful. The queues not long, just an older man waiting in front of you, but it feels like forever as the generous man (with the toppings as well) takes your order and wraps it in warm aluminum foil.
You take the hotdog eagerly. “Thank you.”
It’s heavy in your hands, warm too. You yell Sirius’ name excitedly, waving the hotdog above your head for him to see. He laughs, thumbs up until you bump into a man, smile fading, concern etching his brows.
“Oh,” you murmur, looking up. “I’m sorry.”
“No problem,” he smiles. It’s uncomfortable, not the smile of a friendly civilian.
You laugh. It’s polite, anyone can see that, but he leans closer. He smells like liquor, a disgusting discovery that has you subconsciously leaning away.
“You new around here?”
An actual laugh stumbles out of your lips. “London? No.”
He takes this as an entrance. “You should show me around.”
“No, thank you.” You try to walk past him. Towards Sirius who’s already walking over. “Goodnight.”
“Wait,” he grabs your arm, pulling you back. His fingers dig into your elbow painfully.
“What the fuck,” you gasp, pulling your arm away roughly. “don’t touch me.”
“C’mon,” The man slurs, fingers reaching for you again. “Don’t be-“
“Hello?” Sirius walks up, all stock. He grabs your forearm pulling you to him firmly, getting in between you and the man. He’s not much taller, but more intimidating in demeanor. “Do we have a problem?”
“No,” the man scoffs.
“Cause it looks like you put your hands on her.”
He scoffs again, clearly inebriated. “We were just talking.”
“Well, conversations over now.”
“She can make her own decisions.”
“Fuck off, bro.” Sirius waves his hand dismissively. Quickly, he walks you towards the boys who are peeking their eyes up from the Uber app.
“She was asking for it.”
Sirius reels back, dropping your forearm to shove the scary stranger in the chest. He pushes hard, the man losing his balance as he falls to the ground in a sickening thud. You gasp loudly, the unexpected conflict startling you. Vaguely you hear Sirius say something to him, but you’re too focused on the way the man looks up at you.
James and Remus are there in seconds, quick on Sirius’s heels. They pull at him, up and off the man. There were no real punches thrown, no real injuring blows, it wasn’t even enough to form a crowd. But still, you’re shaken. You shiver like a leaf under your James’ leather jacket, suddenly not feeling the warmth of the alcohol you’d consumed before the concert.
Slowly, you stumble back and way from your boys, to the bench next to the shitty bar you’d passed on your way home. That had been scary, but you’re safe; that had been scary, but Sirius dealt with it. You bring your hand up to your chest, setting the hotdog you had been eager to buy down next to you.
“Hi,” Remus pushes aside the hotdog to sit next to you. “Are you okay?”
You look up to the boy, blindingly beautiful in the streetlights and advertisements. “Yes.”
He pushes some stray hair from your face. “He didn’t hurt you?”
“I think it was more startling.” James sits on the other side of you, kissing your temple firmly. “I’m sorry he did that.”
“It’s okay, I’m okay.”
“She’s okay.” Sirius gruffs from where he walks over.
He sounds cooler than he thinks he looks. He’s not bruised, bloodied, or bandaged, if he were he thinks he’d look cool enough to breeze over. But then again you look mad, so maybe he doesn’t want that.
“Don’t be upset,” Sirius crouches to your level. You’re in the arms of a solid Remus. “he was a creep.”
“Are you hurt?”
“Are you trying to tell me something?” He laughs roguishly. “I thought I looked good tousled.”
He does, and you know he’ll look good on the tabloids tomorrow too. Sirius black gives black eye? You sigh at the thought.
“You do.” James feeds Sirius.
“At least someone in this relationship cares for my ego.”
“You look good.”
“Oh, now you tell me.”
You laugh, letting Sirius stare at you like you hung the moon.
“Kiss em?” He pushes his knuckles in front of your lips. His fingers throb lightly, you can feel it on your lips.
“That was stupid.”
“C’mon,” Sirius’ eyes roll as he pulls you up. “You’ve got a hotdog to eat.”
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moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
PLEASE!!! im on my hands n knees begging. poly!mauraders with a hyper partner that give off golden retriever vibes I BEG
Happy to oblige my love!
poly!marauders x golden retriever!reader ♡ 1k words
Sirius is still in the process of waking up when you come inside, bags of groceries in your arms. 
“Morning!” You lean over the top of the couch to kiss his cheek as you go by, all but skipping into the kitchen. “Have you been outside? It’s gorgeous.” 
Sirius levels you with a deadpan look. “Do I look like I’ve been outside?” 
“You should,” you say, undeterred by his attitude. “Spring is in the air! The sun is out, the trees are starting to get their little flowers—I even bought us some tulips to put on the table.” 
“That’s nice,” he mumbles, sinking deeper into the cushions. He knows he really should help you unload the groceries, but it feels like his bones have been replaced by barbells. Luckily, he hears a set of footsteps coming down the hall. 
“Hey, sunshine.” James comes in fully dressed, pecking you on the lips before starting the coffee machine. “What’d you get?” 
“I got tulips,” you tell him excitedly. “Have you been outside? It’s a really lovely day.” 
James smiles, sliding one of the bags away from you as you start snipping the stems of your tulips so they’ll fit in a vase. “Yeah, I poked my head out for a sec. It is nice.” His glance slides over to where Sirius languishes on the couch, grin going somewhat cocky. “Morning, Sirius. You could help with the groceries, you know.” 
Sirius waves his hand. “Two of you are enough.” 
The coffee machine starts to gurgle, summoning Remus like a siren’s call. He trudges out of the bedroom, sleep clinging to his frame. Sirius opens his arms commiseratingly.
“It’s hardly ten,” Remus grunts as he collapses into them. “How have they already been productive?” 
“I know, they’re so perky.” Sirius pets down the cowlick at the back of his boyfriend’s head. “It’s freakish.” 
“You’re freakish,” you say brightly, bringing them each a cup of coffee. Sirius has no clue how you’ve managed to unload the groceries so fast, or where you found the time to doctor his coffee the way he likes it. You’re like a machine. You laugh giddily when he nips at your fingers as you pull away. “Remus, wait until you see the weather outside, it’s so perfect. I think we should have a picnic. What do you say?” 
“I say it’s too early for decisions,” he mumbles, sitting up off Sirius so he can drink his coffee. “But that sounds nice.” 
You beam as if you’ve gotten a full-stop go-ahead, breezing back towards the kitchen. “We can make brownies,” you say, bringing your vase of tulips to the table, “and sandwiches, and lemonade. And we can go to that park with the stream—what’s the one?” 
You look to James, who in turn looks to Remus. 
“Mayfield,” Remus says. 
“Right! We can go to Mayfield park, and hike over to that meadow-y area.” Sirius glances your way, and you’ve already started taking down the ingredients for brownies. “It’s so sunny and nice out, you guys won’t believe it. We can bring a frisbee or something.” 
“Hiking and frisbee?” Sirius murmurs to Remus. “I don’t like the sound of all this activity.” Remus snorts. 
“That sounds great, angel.” James apprehends you before you can start pouring things into the mixing bowl, putting a mug of decaf tea in your hand and steering you towards the living room. “I think these guys are going to take a bit to be ready for all that, but I’m sure it’ll be fun.” 
“Right.” You look a bit abashed, sitting down criss-cross-applesauce in the big armchair. “Yeah, we don’t have to go, like, right now. You guys just woke up.” 
“Thanks for noticing,” Sirius says wryly. But when you fidget in your seat and he can feel James’ glare boring into the side of his head, he throws in an eye roll of feigned reluctance. “Get over here.” 
You happily transfer into his lap, letting him brush your hair aside and squealing when he plants a wet, squelching kiss on your neck. Remus, sensing that Sirius’ attention has a new captive, leans back into James, who winds his arms around Remus’ middle gamely. 
“Now why would we go outside,” Sirius asks, nosing at the underside of your jaw as you giggle and squirm, “when we can just do this all day?” 
“You could just as easily do it outside,” James points out. Sirius whines petulantly against your skin, setting you giggling again. 
“He’s right,” you reason, transferring your tea to your other hand so you can wrestle Sirius away from your neck. “We could do this in the sun, with wildflowers and trees around.” 
He pouts. “But you know I burn easily,” he says, “and poor Remus’ hip can’t take the hike.” 
“You don’t know what I can take,” Remus huffs, and Sirius realizes he’s chosen the wrong avenue for his argument. “If my hip hurts, it’s only because your mum was so rough last night.” 
“I don’t particularly enjoy being compared to Sirius’ mum,” says James. Remus’ ears go a bit pink as he mumbles an apology. 
“I won’t let you burn,” you tell Sirius. “You can use sunblock, or we’ll find you a nice shady spot. And Remus, if your hip’s bothering you, we can always find another park. One without a hike.” 
Any vexation that might usually be summoned in Remus by mention of his aches and pains melts away in the face of your earnestness. “Thanks, dove, but I’m alright,” he says. “It’s fine today.” 
James rubs the skin just above Remus’ hip lovingly, and you send him a beaming smile. “It’s probably because it’s so nice out,” you say. 
“Yeah, Sirius,” James turns on him. “It’s so nice out. Do you really want to miss out on what could be the single most beautiful day of the year?” 
Sirius really could give a shit, but he sighs, rolling his eyes. “Fine, let’s picnic.” 
“Yay!” You won’t be contained any longer, hopping up from his lap. “I’m going to go get the frisbee.” 
“The frisbee’s in the attic,” Remus muses, then raises his voice so you can hear him. “Don’t go up in the attic by yourself.” 
“I can get it,” you call back. 
“Don’t,” he warns. “You need someone to hold the ladder, just—” The ladder groans as it comes down and Remus echoes it, starting to stand. But James pats him on the shoulder, encouraging Remus back down as he gets up. 
“Slow your roll, angel,” he calls ahead. “I’m coming.”
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ddejavvu · 7 months
Note
currently thinking abt like maybe poly!marauders w innocent!reader but instead of like 🥺👉👈 innocent she’s like 🤔🧍‍♀️ innocent yk what i mean? sorry if that’s too vague this is my first time doing a request lmao
i know what you meant in your request and i tried to convey it here but i can't tell if i did it right? i hope it doesn't come off as too cutesy i tried to just make her confused 😭 putting a keep reading just 'cause they act like total dumbass teenage boys here and it might give some of you the ick if i'm being honest
James peers down at the sticky note that had been shoved into the lockbox on the garage door of the cabin you're renting for the weekend, instructions from the owner on how to get inside.
"She says the code is 6, 9, 6, 9, pound," James reads, pausing to snicker before he finishes his sentence, "And she'd prefer if we came in the back door."
Sirius lets out his familiar bark of laughter, mumbling, "That's what she said."
"She's a woman that knows what she wants," James's face is glowing with a perpetual grin, his skin rosy from the cold. Even Remus chuckles from where he's standing behind you with your bags, and you're not sure why they all seem to be so delighted by the homeowner's request.
"It's probably 'cause her bush blocks the front entrance," You muse, pointing at some roses that have grown over the pathway to the front door, but are far too beautiful to contain, "I wouldn't want to trim it either."
Somehow, you've missed the mark.
Their eyes brighten with even more of the amusement that's typically shining in them, and their chests convulse as they try biting their tongues to stop from laughing.
"What?" Your brow furrows slightly, "Why's that funny?"
"It's not," Remus clears his throat, but he's lying, and you know he is because his mouth is twisted into a poorly-concealed smirk, "I think you're right, darling. It's the bush."
"S'always the bush," Sirius chimes in, grin far too wolfish to be talking of roses, "I mean, y'forget to garden for a week, and bam, it's out of control."
"Alright," Remus chides lightly, though he's still tight in the chest as he tries not to laugh, "Might I remind you that you haven't trimmed in a month? It's almost as long as the hair on your head."
"It clogs up the shower drain, mate," James concedes regretfully, "I can't back you up on this one."
Your brain is swirling with scattered concepts, your train of thought rapidly switching between tracks. Roses, bush, hair, trimming, gardening, showering, you feel like you've dropped two crates of words and now you need to sort them back into their original piles again. Surely roses goes with gardening and bush, but what have they got to do with showering?
"Whatever," Sirius scoffs good-naturedly, slinging his bag over his shoulder and punching the code into the door. He presses the final key, mumbling pound as he does so, then holds it open for you, "C'mon darling, inside, let's go to pound town."
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theemporium · 9 months
Note
hi!! i wanted to request an imagine with all the marauders doing stupid shit to try and compete for the new american transfer’s attention, and she’s extremely bold, sarcastic, and unbothered (bc i’m so tired of seeing y/ns who act like they’ve never had a single social interaction before 😭) and they have a like a bet going on to see who can get a yes from her first, oblivious to the fact that she’s dragging it out to watch them embarrass themselves more LMAO thank you so much 🙌🙌
thank you for requesting!🖤
.
“You know they are doing all this to impress you, right?” 
You couldn’t help the way your lips twitched in amusement as you tore your eyes away from the sight in front of and instead turned to look at the redhead settled on the bench next to you. 
“Of course I do,” you answered with a playful scoff. “But who said I can’t have my own fun with it?” 
Lily snorted, a bashful but bold sound. “You’re driving them mad, babe.” 
“But it’s so funny to watch,” you said with a faux pout before you turned back to look at the boys. 
The second you walked through the doors of Hogwarts, the boys were absolutely besotted by you. Maybe it was the pretty smile or the gorgeous face or maybe it was the fact you had all but scoffed at some petty, pureblood wizards who tried introducing themselves to you and snorted when another tried to tell you off for breaking some silly little school rule within the first twenty-four hours since you stepped inside the castle. 
But from that second on, you had held the hearts of the school’s beloved marauders in your hand, for better or for worse. 
“What are they even trying to do this time?” Marlene asked as she approached the two of you, her hands braced on the bench as she tilted her head at the scene in front of her, trying to work out just what she was actually looking at. 
It wasn’t unusual for the boys to go out of their way to gain your attention, you had truly seen it all. From James whooshing past you on his broom after he scored in a quidditch match, calling out your name and honouring the goal to you, to Sirius dancing on the table top in the Great Hall to cheer you up as he serenade you with your favourite song, to Remus all but blurting out random little jokes during class to try and gain your attention. 
It was cute and it warmed your heart. Now, though, you were slightly worried their recent antic would end with the three boys in months’ worth of detention.
“I honestly don’t know,” you murmured honestly, your brows furrowed in confusion as you watched the boys zip about. 
“Are those…muggle fireworks?” Lily murmured with a frown. 
“Muggle fireworks? How different are they to ours?” you asked, briefly glancing at the redhead. 
“Very different,” she snorted, shaking her head. “I didn’t think any of them knew how to set them off. It’s not like ours, it’s not a simple spell.” 
You tilted your head. “Is that why Sirius has his lighter?” 
“Probably, but you still have to—“ 
BOOM!
All eyes turned to look at the massive chunk that was now gone from a row of pillars leading out into the courtyard. And just as quickly as people sought out the chaos, their heads twisted around to find the boys standing there, sheepish and flustered at the lacklustre performance they just put on for you. 
“POTTER! BLACK! LUPIN!” 
You snorted as their eyes widened at McGonagall's voice booming through the whispers and hushed voices, all three of them scrambling to fix their mess. For the infamous marauders, they got quite sloppy when they were around you. 
“Better run, boys!” you called out to them, a massive grin on your face. “Wouldn’t want my favourite boys in detention.” 
“Your favourite boys?” Sirius repeated, a grin growing on his face. 
“You heard what I said, Black,” you retorted, watching as the boy only shook his head in amusement. 
“We won’t get detention, darling,” Remus assured you, a flush to his cheeks that made him look a little younger than usual, a lot more carefree too. 
“Good, we have a date on Saturday,” you called out casually. 
All three boys halted in their steps but it was James who spoke. 
“Which one?” he asked, something like a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 
But your grin only widened. “Who said anything about only one of you?”
.
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inkdrinkerworld · 2 months
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Hi so this is something i struggle with and had a moment on a lil while ago
Can you do reader getting overstimulated and having to set a boundary with remus and j and s to not touch her?
Its like too loud and too bright and not bright enough and they are talking around her. And then one of them puts their hand on her shoulder or thigh. And she just cracks.
Then something fluffier after she sets the boundary and they go home?
Of course angel!!! They’d be so understanding!!!
There’s all of a sudden too much everything. You can hear the water in the tap as Sirius washes the dishes, then there’s James’ foot tapping as he speaks with remus and Remus bless him is always soft spoken but something about the way he can’t sit still is driving you crazy.
The lights are too bright, it’s too hot then it’s cold, you feel like you’re being tugged to all the sides of the overstimulation spectrum and it’s making you go crazy.
Sirius is suddenly in the living room, his hand tapping your knee and you jolt.
The way you jump startles all of you but Sirius looks mostly perturbed.
“Poppet, you okay?” If you didn’t know him as well as you did, you wouldn’t think he was worried, but there’s a small frown on his lips and his eyebrows hang low.
“Please don’t touch me,” you whisper to them and they all nod.
“Is it too much right now?” James asks, already standing and making his way to the light switches.
“I,” you feel bad for making them look so guilty. “I’m sorry, it just sort of happened.”
Remus tuts and Sirius stands, his knees cracking as he turns off and heads to the bedroom.
“Nothing to be sorry for, sweet girl. What do you need, hm?”
You think, the heels of your hands pressing into your eyes as you do. “Can we just sit in the quiet for five minutes?”
Sirius returns with a pair of socks and your weighted elephant.
“Here, dolly.” He fits the socks on for you and passes you the elephant, watching triumphantly as you relax under its weight.
“We’ll put on something easy, yeah?” James suggests, biting at his nails as he sits on the floor beside your legs.
“Thank you.” You say quietly, Sirius and Remus sitting beside you but not touching you.
“Nonsense angel, what do you think about Bear In The Big Blue House?”
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Outdoor Concert
Fandom: Harry Potter (Marauders Era)
Pairing: James Potter/Sirius Black/Remus Lupin/GN!Reader (Poly!Marauders/GN!Reader)
Summary: You and your boys go out to an outdoor concert you’d been planning to go to for ages.
No pronouns are used for the reader
Notes: This was written in response to Flufftober’s Day 27 Prompt: Outdoor Event. @flufftober
I do not own any of the characters in this.
This account is anti-JKR and her beliefs.
This account is a safe space.
I do not give permission to anyone to repost or translate any of my stories. I also do not give anyone permission to feed my stories through AI or to be posted to any third party website or app. If anyone sees any of my work posted anywhere but here or my AO3 (simplyreflected), then it has been posted without permission.
Read on AO3 here.
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James, Sirius, Remus and you had been planning this since you got the tickets. You got dressed for it as your boys waited for you. You felt incredible.
You walked out to where your boys were waiting. James was the one to see you first, walking up to you, twirling you around before dipping and kissing you. When he stood you up again, you felt his arms wrap around your middle.
“You look beautiful, love,” you heard from Sirius as you registered footsteps coming towards you.
He kissed you as you heard from Remus, “this is what I love to see.”
You smiled at hearing his voice, “I love it when I’m around all of you, but do you want to know what I love more?”
James whispered in your ear loud enough for all of you to hear, “What’s that, m’love?”
“When we get to do things together, like this concert.” You paused. “Shall we go?”
Sirius took your hand and all of you went to the car to go to the concert.
Once there, you took Sirius’ arm as James walked on your other side taking your hand and Remus behind you.
After your tickets had been scanned, you walked into the outdoor arena with your boys. When the band took the stage, you all enjoyed your night together - laughing, singing, screaming and dancing. The four of you never left each other’s sides.
All of you would agree that it was a great night, but what made it perfect was spending that time together getting to be at a live performance of your favourite band.
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