Summary: When you're paired with Draco Malfoy for Herbology, you expected eye-rolls and dead plants. But, you don’t expect that the most sudden pairings bloom the brightest.
wc: 1.7k+
cw: Hufflepuff!reader x draco. FLUFF! FLUFF! FLUFF!, a very pouty reader who loves and names her plants.
A/N: Alright you got me. I made up some of the plants mentioned cause I got lazy going through all the canon plants in hp. I LOVE LOVE LOVE HUFFLEPUFF!READERS! 💞
⊱ ─── ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ ─── ⊰
You’d witnessed many botanical tragedies during your years in Hogwarts’ greenhouses—Mandrakes shrieking their way into fainting fits, Puffapods misfiring into clouds of spores, even a Dungbomb incident involving a Fanged Geranium with a grudge and poor aim—but nothing, not even that, prepared you for the quiet devastation that was Draco Malfoy trying to care for magical plants.
“This one’s supposed to be droopy, right?” Draco asked one chilly morning, holding up a miserable-looking Flitterbloom, his face in lost confusion. The plant sagged from his gloved fingers like a limp dishcloth, the edges tinged with black rot, its once vibrant fronds now hanging as though in mourning.
Professor Sprout audibly gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “No, Mr. Malfoy, it most certainly is not supposed to look like that! That poor dear is drowning in water it didn’t ask for!”
You bit down on your smile, valiantly trying not to laugh. You really did try. But the look on Draco’s face—offended, a little baffled, and thoroughly disgusted—was too much. Your shoulders shook with suppressed giggles, and Professor Sprout caught your eye with a hopeful glint.
“Y/N,” she said, a little too sweetly, “would you mind pairing up with Mr. Malfoy for the rest of the term? He could use someone with your… patience.”
You blinked, unsure whether you were being punished or knighted. “You want me to help him?”
“I don’t need help,” Draco snapped, standing straighter.
“You do,” you and Sprout said at the same time, your voices perfectly overlapped. Your eyes met. She looked vindicated. Draco looked betrayed.
And that was how you became Draco Malfoy’s unofficial plant handler.
⸻
You wore flowers like armor. Always. In your hair—violets carefully tucked into your braid, a daisy behind your ear, sprigs of baby's breath pinned like secrets. Your jumpers often had tiny embroidered petals curling down the sleeves or buttons shaped like blooming buds. When people asked, you just smiled like the flowers had chosen you that morning and not the other way around. Flowers were a part of you, just like freckles were a part of others.
“Is there a reason you always dress like a sentient meadow?” Draco asked once, squinting as you buttoned up a coat stitched with little yellow marigolds that seemed to flutter when you moved.
“It’s for luck,” you said serenely, smoothing a daffodil-shaped pin at your collar. “And it makes the plants feel at home.”
He stared like you’d just offered him a slice of moonlight for breakfast. “You think the plants care what you’re wearing?”
You tilted your head, genuinely perplexed. “You don’t?”
The first incident came swiftly. You’d barely begun working together when he attempted to nudge a Puffapod into blooming. One gentle poke was all it needed—delicate, respectful. Draco prodded it like it owed him an explanation, and it exploded in a soft-pink mushroom cloud of pollen.
You stood in stunned silence, covered in fuzz, bits of petal clinging to your braid like confetti. You tried not to pout. You really did. But you ended up cross-legged on the floor, mournfully collecting the petals and whispering soft apologies.
“She just needed patience,” you murmured, fingers brushing the frayed bloom. “A bit of kindness.”
Draco sneezed and looked utterly unconvinced. “It was a plant. Not a therapy client.”
“She had a name,” you said sharply, shooting him a glare. “Lulu.”
He gave you a flat look. “You named the Puffapod?”
You met his gaze with unflinching sincerity. “I would've told you her name if you didn't blow up her sister Lala earlier this year.
He sighed. "yeah... because plants have siblings."
The next week, he crushed a Bubotuber in a moment of casual irritation. One second he was ranting about someone stealing his socks, the next he squeezed the bulb like it had personally offended him. It responded by erupting in a burst of thick, greenish goo. Draco’s shriek of horror echoed off the greenhouse walls.
“You strangled her,” you said disappointed, trying not to frown as you dabbed away goo with a Moondew sprig.
“I barely touched it!”
“You manhandled her like she owed you money.”
“It attacked me!”
“She was terrified.”
He stumbled back, covered in yellow-green sludge. “Of what? My refined bone structure?”
You crouched next to the limp plant, wand raised, murmuring a soft charm. “Of being misunderstood. She’s very shy.”
Draco groaned. “Merlin help me. Not again.”
“She has a name,” you said firmly. “Matilda.”
“Of course she does.”
With a flick of your wand and a quiet word, Matilda shivered back to life, wiggling slightly in your palm. You leaned in and whispered something that made her glow faintly. She’d forgiven him. Barely.
“She’s a menace,” he muttered.
“She’s sensitive,” you corrected, stroking her stem.
Draco stared at you like he was trying to decide if this was some elaborate Hufflepuff prank. You smiled serenely and tucked a fallen blossom behind your ear.
By the fourth week, Draco had managed to offend a Flutterfern, enrage a Shrivelfig, and traumatize a Fanged Geranium into permanent wilt. The final straw came when he took pruning shears to a Venomous Tentacula like he was avenging a personal vendetta. It lashed out in protest, its tendrils flailing before curling in on themselves, whimpering.
You didn’t speak to him for the next twenty minutes.
Instead, you crouched beside the wounded plant, gently gathering its injured tendrils in your hands. You rocked slightly, whispering something ancient and low—more lullaby than incantation. Slowly, the Tentacula calmed. Its color returned in hesitant pulses. One vine curled around your wrist, tentative and grateful.
“You’ve got to be doing this on purpose,” Draco muttered from the other side of the greenhouse. “No one’s that bad at plants unless they’re cursed. Or a Gryffindor.”
You glanced up, your voice dry. “You think I’d hex my own greenhouse just to make you look bad?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “With great pleasure.”
You dusted soil from your cheek with a dramatic flourish. “I’m petty, Malfoy. Not suicidal.”
He eyed you, then your boots. “You’ve got roses on your socks.”
“They’re embroidered,” you replied, lifting your foot slightly to show him. “Climbing roses. Very resilient. A bit clingy.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Like you?”
You grinned. “Like you.”
His ears turned pink.
The sixth time was different. He didn’t kill the plant. He merely terrified it.
A small Mandrake sat trembling on its roots while Draco hovered uncertainly nearby, brow furrowed, tongue between his teeth in sheer concentration, wondering how the hell did you manage to stop a mandrake from crying. You watched from a few feet away, arms crossed, trying not to interfere.
“If you’re going to loom like that,” Draco muttered, glancing sideways, “you might as well do it yourself.”
“I’m observing,” you said proudly. “You’re improving. That Mandrake hasn’t flinched in at least two minutes.”
“It keeps looking at me.”
“you mean, He. Well, duh he has eyes. Of course he's looking at you.”
“Judgmentally.”
“That’s a compliment,” you said. “He doesn’t usually acknowledge people he dislikes.”
Draco scowled, but the Mandrake remained intact. Which, for him, was practically a miracle. When he wasn’t looking, you snuck the plant a leaf treat. It quivered happily.
Later that afternoon, while you adjusted the angle of a sunlamp for your Asphodel, you sensed Draco stepping beside you. He didn’t say anything at first, just hovered—an odd, uncertain weight in the air. Then his voice came, softer than usual.
“You missed a spot.”
You turned, confused, just as he reached out. His thumb brushed a smudge of soil from your cheek, lingering a second too long. You froze.
The world narrowed. You forgot the cold, the damp, the faint buzzing of Pixie-flies overhead. For one suspended breath, it was just you, him, and the inch of air between your faces.
He cleared his throat abruptly and pulled his hand back. “You had… dirt. On your face.”
“Oh.” You touched the spot instinctively. “Thanks.”
He turned away, cheeks faintly pink. You didn’t say anything. Your heart was too loud.
⸻
All term, you’d been tending to a single Moonlily in the corner of Greenhouse Three. Once silver-bright, it had withered into something curled and gray, like it had forgotten what light felt like. Every class, you brought it a fresh blossom, whispered to it like an old friend. “I’m still here,” you told it. “Come back when you’re ready.”
Draco never asked about it. But he noticed. You caught him glancing at it when he thought you weren’t looking. Watching the way you cared.
And then came the last day of term.
Most students had left for the holidays. Snow pressed against the greenhouse windows, and frost dusted the vines in glittering white. You were alone, brushing a light dusting of ice from the soil, when you heard the sound of footsteps.
Draco.
He looked a little windblown, hair tousled, scarf half-untied. In one gloved hand, he held something fragile. Small. Pale.
A pot with a single marigold.
Its stem was crooked. Its petals trembled. But it was alive.
“I, uh… Professor Sprout helped,” he said quickly, almost defensive. “A bit. Mostly she just stopped me from killing it.”
You stared, lips parting. He shifted, awkward.
“It’s not perfect,” he said.
You reached out and took it gently, your fingers brushing his. The flower quivered in your palm like it knew who had grown it.
“It’s exquisite.” you whispered.
His shoulders sagged, some tightness easing in his jaw. “I... It reminded me of you. It's bright and... pretty. Very, pretty.”
You stepped closer.
“Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with something you didn’t dare name. “I love it.”
And then, without thinking, you kissed him.
It was soft, tentative—dirt-smudged noses, cold fingers brushing warm cheeks, and the quiet, sweet hush of something just beginning. He tasted of peppermint tea and the kind of wonder that comes only after you’ve stopped pretending not to care.
Behind you, something stirred.
You turned as the Moonlily—the one you’d nurtured all term—gave a shiver, then slowly unfurled. Its silver petals caught the moonlight and glowed like a promise, blooming with the kind of gentle pride only magic, patience, and love can grow.
Draco stared, wide-eyed. “Was that... because of us?”
You clutched the flower he'd given you to your chest, heart fluttering. “She’s been waiting. I think... she felt it.”
He looked at you, the usual edge in his voice softened into awe. “You’re completely mad.”
You grinned, breathless. “You still think the plants don’t notice?”
And then, for the first time all term, Draco Malfoy laughed—really laughed. It spilled into the greenhouse like sunlight after rain, warm and unexpected.
“Fine,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe they do.”
You reached up and tucked the crooked little flower he’d grown into your braid, letting it nestle behind your ear like it had always belonged there.
“Then they’ve clearly been paying more attention than you have.”
aka… neville meeting the girl of his dreams by pure chance
warnings ~ fluff, movie nev bc i said so, nothing else :3
w/c ~ 1000+
── .✦ a/n ~ first nev fic, i love my baby hes so precious
Neville was never an outgoing person.
In his first year – and even before Hogwarts – he didn't have many friends, didn't put himself out there, kept to himself, to the point where hardly anybody truly knew him. Not that he ever minded. He kind of prefers it this way.
But now that he's a fourth year?
Not much has changed.
Even as he walks into his Herbology class on the very first day back and is met with the thing he dreads most: the seating chart.
"Oh, for the love of Merlin..." He grumbles under his breath.
Without much more complaint, he finds his seat at the back of the class.
He watches as everyone else files in, each taking their own seats with varying degrees of happiness and disappointment on their faces depending on who they're sitting by. One by one, the seats grow full, until only he is left without a seat partner.
And then she arrives.
You arrive.
Three minutes late and with a sparkle in your eyes.
"You're late," Professor Sprout condemns, giving you a sharp look.
"Oh, I'm so very sorry Professor! I was held behind by–"
"Save it, kid. Go on and take your seat; in the back, beside Longbottom." Sprout cuts in, nodding to Neville.
At the sound of his name, he perks up, and he's met with the most beautiful face he's ever laid eyes on.
His breath catches in his throat when you smile. But just as quickly, he looks down, trying his hardest not to make a fool of himself.
Everyone knows who you are, after all – it's difficult not to.
You're objectively the kindest person to ever step foot inside Hogwarts. You don't treat anybody badly, everyone is given the time of day in your world, you try to be as understanding as possible.
Even the Slytherins can't bring themselves to hate you.
And yet, Neville finds himself thinking you'll make fun of him if he makes even one little dorky move... which is more probable than he realizes.
His palms grow sweaty.
As you take your seat, he keeps his head down, trying not to draw any unnecessary attention to himself. That way, you have nothing to laugh about.
Over the course of the following months, he keeps to himself in that class, especially with you right beside him. He takes his daily notes, and – as per usual – he flourishes when it comes to actually tending to the plants.
But he finds himself growing more and more distracted due to your presence.
He subconsciously watches you when you take your notes, eyes tracing every stroke of your quill against your paper. He watches the way you mess with your hair in the middle of class. He watches the way you bite your lip when it gets frustrating doing hands-on work in class.
It becomes so obvious that his friends pick up on it.
"Hey, mate, do you have a thing for that one girl?" Seamus questions one day in the common room.
Neville nearly flinches, because he knows exactly who he's talking about: you.
"Er... wh- which girl? What girl?" He stammers – Christ, he sounds like a total idiot already...
"You know who! The one who sits by you in Herbology!" The conversation soon draws the attention of both Dean and Ron.
"Yeah, she's hot! Got pretty eyes, too," Dean comments, nudging the ginger boy beside him, making all three snicker.
"Uhm, no, I don't have a thing for her..." Neville finally spits.
It's 100% a lie.
And, of course, they know it too.
"Sure you don't, I've seen you making eyes at her practically the entire class!" Seamus continues, grinning like an idiot as his friend grows mortified.
"W-What!? No! I don't–"
"Yes, you do, mate! And she does the same to you!"
"No, I– wait, what?"
Neville pauses.
Is he hearing this correctly?
No. No, surely not. His friend's just making a joke. He definitely is, actually. He'd have known if such a thing took place – he isn't stupid.
"Yeah, man, I've seen her staring at you during class! We were working on those one things, the plants with the ugly colored flowers!" Ron and Dean are practically rolling on the floor cackling by now.
Neville stares at all three of his friends, cheeks pink with mortification and a scowling expression.
"You lot are insufferable..." he mutters beneath his breath.
His hands tremble as he gathers his books and brings them up to hi room.
But the next week, Seamus' observations proves to be truthful when you speak to him during class.
"You're Neville Longbottom, right?" You whisper, with an odd sort of awe in your eyes.
He perks up at the sound of his name, bright blue eyes meeting your own – and immediately, he's speechless. Jesus Christ, you look like an absolute angel; and, in a way, you are.
"U-Uhm... yeah, that's me."
Your eyes almost immediately light up.
"You're, like, really good at Herbology, am I not correct? 'Cause I've been really struggling with this unit, and–"
Professor Sprout suddenly calls out your surname.
"What is it that is so important that you must tell Mr. Longbottom in the middle of my lesson?"
In a moment like this, Neville would freeze up and stammer his way through an apology. You, though, handle it with a much greater amount of grace.
"Oh, uhm- sorry! I was just asking about something I missed. Apologies, Professor." You say it with such warmth that Sprout simply nods before moving on.
And then, with a small grin on your lips, you turn back to Neville.
His eyes follow the movements of your hands as you tear off the corner of your paper and scribble something down with rushed movements.
You give him a small look as you pass the note to him.
On it, the words "Are you free sometime to help me study?" :)" written in messy, smudged handwriting.
He reads it with shaky hands and flushed cheeks, and as he does, his heartrate (somehow) manages to increase exponentially. When he's finished, his gaze immediately flickers to you.
You, staring ahead at the blackboard, with the sun shining over your face and illuminating all of your features like a painting created by the most skilled of artists.
Merlin, he's a goner already.
[ 🏷️ : none yet! send a dm or ask to be added <3 ]
Summary: At Hogwarts, the gentle Hufflepuff professor and the sharp-tongued Potions Master keep their marriage secret—until Harry, Ron, and Hermione start piecing it together.
Hogwarts had always been a place of whispers.
Portraits whispered.
Students whispered.
Even the castle itself seemed to hum with secrets in its ancient stones.
But none were quite as carefully kept as yours.
By day, you were the embodiment of Hufflepuff warmth — patient, kind, endlessly encouraging. Your classroom smelled of honeyed tea and parchment, and your students lingered long after lessons just to talk.
By contrast, your husband ruled the dungeons like a storm cloud.
Professor Snape’s footsteps echoed like a warning. His voice could silence a classroom faster than any spell. Where you offered smiles, he offered cutting remarks. Where you comforted, he intimidated.
And yet, when the staff room emptied and the corridors grew quiet, the distance between warmth and shadow vanished.
⸻
It started with small things.
A teacup appearing at Snape’s usual place at breakfast — prepared exactly how he liked it.
A stack of essays from your class quietly sorted by difficulty, his handwriting correcting the margins in precise green ink.
The briefest brush of your hands when you passed in the corridor — so subtle no student noticed, but enough to ground you both.
The staff knew, of course.
Minerva’s knowing glances.
Filius’s delighted smiles.
Pomona’s habit of leaving you two alone when you entered the greenhouse together.
But the students?
They saw only what they expected to see.
Until three of them started paying closer attention.
⸻
It was Hermione who noticed first.
“Have you ever realised,” she whispered over lunch, eyes flicking toward the staff table, “that Professor Snape always sits next to her if there’s space?”
Ron shrugged, mouth full. “Maybe he just likes the quiet.”
Harry watched as you leaned slightly toward Snape, saying something too soft for anyone else to hear.
For just a second — barely a heartbeat — the corner of Snape’s mouth lifted.
Harry blinked.
“I’ve never seen him smile like that,” he said.
Hermione’s eyes lit with curiosity. “Exactly.”
⸻
Over the next few weeks, the evidence piled up.
You refilled Snape’s goblet without asking.
He adjusted the chair for you before you sat.
You shared a look during a staff meeting that spoke volumes without a single word.
Ron finally leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “Alright. Something’s going on.”
Hermione grinned. “We investigate.”
Harry sighed, but he was smiling too. “We’re not spying.”
“We’re observing,” she corrected.
⸻
Their opportunity came on a quiet morning.
You arrived early to your classroom, sunlight spilling through tall windows, humming softly as you arranged parchment on desks.
A moment later, the door opened again.
Snape stepped inside.
The shift between your public and private selves was immediate — not dramatic, not obvious, just softer. You looked up with a smile meant only for him.
“You forgot your notes,” you said, holding them out.
His fingers brushed yours as he took them.
“Thank you,” he said quietly, voice stripped of its usual edge.
Before either of you noticed, the door creaked open wider.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood frozen in the doorway.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Snape’s expression returned instantly to its familiar sternness, but there was no real irritation behind it — only resignation.
“Is there a reason,” he said slowly, “you are loitering?”
Hermione stepped forward, eyes bright with triumph and nerves. “We know.”
Ron nodded. “Well, we don’t know know, but we’ve got a pretty good idea.”
Harry glanced between you both. “You’re together.”
Silence settled over the room.
You exchanged a look with Snape — a whole conversation in a single glance.
Then you smiled gently.
“Yes,” you said. “We are.”
Ron’s jaw dropped. “Blimey.”
Hermione looked delighted. “I knew it.”
Harry just smiled, oddly relieved. “That actually makes a lot of sense.”
⸻
Snape folded his arms, regarding them with a long, measured look.
“This information,” he said, voice low, “is not for public consumption.”
Hermione nodded quickly. “Of course, Professor.”
Ron raised his hands. “Mum’s the word.”
Harry added softly, “We won’t tell anyone.”
Snape studied them for another moment, then gave a small, decisive nod.
“Very well.”
You stepped closer, warmth returning to your voice. “Thank you for being kind about it.”
Ron grinned. “Honestly, it’s sort of nice.”
Hermione elbowed him. “It’s very nice.”
Harry looked at Snape. “You seem… happier.”
Snape paused, as if the word caught him off guard.
Then, almost imperceptibly, he glanced at you.
“Perhaps,” he said quietly.
⸻
After the students left, the classroom felt softer somehow, like a secret shared but still safe.
You reached for his hand, fingers slipping into his.
“Not the worst outcome,” you murmured.
“No,” he admitted.
His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles — a small, private gesture, invisible to anyone who didn’t know to look.
“Though I suspect,” he added dryly, “Miss Granger will now observe us with even greater enthusiasm.”
You laughed softly.
“Let her,” you said. “It’s nice not to hide quite so much.”
Snape looked at you, the severity in his expression melting into something warm and deeply fond.
“In that case,” he said, voice low, “perhaps we might risk sitting together at dinner.”
Your smile widened.
“I’d like that.”
⸻
That evening, at the long staff table, three students shared a quiet, knowing grin as Snape pulled out your chair before taking his seat beside you.
Around you, the Great Hall buzzed as always — unaware of the small, beautiful secret unfolding in plain sight.
And for once, the man most known for shadows sat comfortably in the light, his hand resting just close enough to yours to feel.
summary: Don't take raw meat, unless you want people to ask questions.
characters: mattheo riddle. theo nott. enzo berkshire. draco malfoy. blaise zabini. hufflepuff! reader
warnings: none, other than hufflepuff! reader buying from the wizard black market.
word count: 1.3k
Something was definitely going on with you.
Mattheo had noticed it first. The way you had been acting… odd lately. You were sneaking around more than usual, disappearing at random times, whispering hurried excuses when he asked where you were going.
But the strangest thing?
The raw meat.
At first, he thought he was imagining it. But then he saw it with his own eyes-you, stuffing a bundle of what was definitely raw chicken into your bag at dinner.
And the other day? He caught you swiping a few sausages off Theo’s plate and tucking them into your robes when you thought no one was looking.
The hell was that about?
And it wasn’t just him noticing anymore.
“Alright,” Blaise drawled, lounging on the Slytherin common room couch. “I’m saying it now-your girlfriend is hiding something.”
Theo nodded in agreement. “She’s been acting shady as hell.”
“She literally took my steak at dinner last night,” Draco grumbled. “Just snatched it up and said she’d ‘make good use of it.’ What does that even mean?”
Mattheo ran a hand through his curls, sighing. “I know, alright? I’ve been trying to figure it out.”
“Well,” Enzo smirked. “Why don’t we just ask her?”
So they did.
-
You barely had time to get through the Hufflepuff common room entrance before Mattheo and the Slytherin boys cornered you.
You blinked up at them, trying to look innocent. “Talk about what?”
“Oh, don’t play dumb,” Theo said, narrowing his eyes. “You’ve been sneaking around, stealing food, whispering weird excuses-”
“And hoarding raw meat,” Draco added. “Like some kind of deranged goblin.”
Your eyes widened. “I-what?! I have not-”
“Oh, you absolutely have,” Mattheo cut in, stepping closer. “So what’s going on, angel?”
You hesitated, glancing between them, before sighing dramatically. “You guys can’t be mad.”
“Oh, that is not a good start,” Enzo muttered.
“I mean it!” you insisted. “Promise me you won’t get mad!”
Mattheo narrowed his eyes. “We’ll see.”
With a sigh, you grabbed Mattheo’s hand. “Fine. But you have to swear not to freak out.”
The boys exchanged glances but nodded.
And then you led them upstairs.
-
Sneaking the Slytherin boys into the Hufflepuff dorms was a feat, but you managed. And once inside your room, you turned to them and whispered, “Okay, um… don’t scream.”
That was not reassuring.
But before they could ask questions, you tiptoed over to your wardrobe and slowly opened the doors.
And inside, curled up in a nest of blankets, was a baby dragon.
The boys stared.
The tiny creature was adorable-scales shimmering between gold and green, tiny wings tucked against its sides, its snout buried into a pillow. But as soon as it smelled the food in your bag, it lifted its head, blinked sleepy eyes, and let out a tiny, high-pitched chirp.
“…What the fuck,” Draco breathed.
Mattheo ran a hand down his face. “Oh, for Merlin’s sake.”
Theo looked thrilled. “IS THAT A DRAGON?!”
Blaise, was speechless.
You gave them all a sheepish smile. “Uh… surprise?”
Mattheo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sunshine. You’ve been raising a dragon in your dorm?”
You nodded. “His name is Snaggle!”
Draco choked. “You named it Snaggle?”
“Well, yeah,” you huffed. “Look at his little baby snaggle teeth!”
Mattheo groaned. “That’s what you’ve been sneaking raw meat for?”
You nodded, kneeling to scratch under Snaggle’s chin. The dragon made a happy little chirp, flapping his wings.
Theo was still in awe. “This is so cool.”
“This is insane,” Draco corrected.
Enzo finally spoke. “Okay, hold on-how the hell did you even get him?”
You winced. “Um… so, funny story… I may have… found him?”
“Found him?” Mattheo echoed.
You nodded. “There was this really sketchy-looking guy outside Hogsmeade, and he was selling dragon eggs, which is obviously illegal, but I couldn’t just let them be sold to, like, terrible people, so I bought one, and then it hatched, and now he imprinted on me, and I couldn’t just abandon him, and now he lives here.”
The boys just stared.
“You bought a dragon egg off a black market dealer?” Blaise said flatly.
“…Yes?”
Mattheo exhaled very slowly. “Sunshine.”
You gave him your best innocent smile. “Are you mad?”
He stared at you, looked at the dragon, then back at you.
Then he sighed. “Mad? No. Amazed at your sheer ability to get yourself into the most insane situations? Yes.”
Theo clapped his hands together. “Alright, well. No going back now. Guess we all have a pet dragon.”
Blaise snorted. “Oh yeah, because that won’t get us expelled.”
Mattheo shook his head, pulling you into his arms. “You are too much, angel.”
You giggled, leaning into his chest. “But you still love me?”
He sighed dramatically. “Yeah. I still love you.”
Snaggle let out a happy little chirp, and Theo immediately flopped down beside him. “This is the best thing ever.”
Draco groaned. “We’re all going to die.”
But, as Mattheo kissed the top of your head and watched you happily cuddle your forbidden pet dragon, he knew one thing for sure.
can you make a pt 2 to lady may like your friends or someone else catches you and cedric kissing in the hallway and you have to get to your next class or to dinner or smth like that
strawberry wine
A/N: naturally this is the request to bring me out of writing hibernation. yes because i love my baby cedric. this serves as a second part to this, but it can also be read standalone!
Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Fem!Grumpy!Hufflepuff!Reader
Summary: No thing defines a man like love that makes him soft. 1.2k words
Warnings: fluff, established relationship, sunshine x grumpy, banter, two dumb idiots in lolololoove
You knew why someone like Cedric had been invited to this dinner, but as he drags you up to the sixth floor you can't help but wonder why someone like you might be. Especially with your fingers so tenderly laced together. Just right the way his pulse presses to yours.
What's a slug club anyway. Some gathering of generations of greatness. It makes sense that a name like Cedric Diggory would make the list: star Hufflepuff Seeker, Triwizard runner-up, not to mention a charmer even without a wand. But you'd been devising reasons why Slughorn might believe you'd go on to become some famous—or, perhaps infamous—witch.
"Quit fretting, you'll tire yourself out before the tea's served," Cedric coos, cresting the top of the stairs and tugging you close behind. He whips around suddenly with a dashing bright smile on his gentle face.
"I know," you grumble, "just can't help but... wonder? It sounds silly, but what if Slughorn made a mistake—"
"You're right, it does sound silly, so I'll spare you the embarrassment of continuing." He turns you round, whisking you into a nook along the hall on the way to the office where the dinner is to be held.
You gaze at him in the dim winter light, fighting a shiver when his fingers brush an eyelash from your cheek.
"If we run, we'll make it back to the dormitories before anyone notices," you whisper. You're all butterflies at the suggestion, knowing he'll be disappointed. He's only ever wanted what was best for you. And since you accepted his romantic pursuits, you've become his full-time responsibility.
"Or we can walk into that room, enjoy quiet conversation, and then leave having earned social connections and a few more people who know I'm yours entirely."
You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays you.
"You're so," you groan, grabbing his waist and snarling, "good! Can't you misbehave or act miserably or even speak poorly of someone just once?"
Just then, his eyes catch the light. A fleeting flicker, really. A rogue candle flame in the playful glint of his gaze, but you catch it, and he leans closer, caging you against the wall.
"Depends on your idea of misbehaving," he whispers.
"I've a sneaky feeling you have your own ideas, Diggory."
His heart flutters at the temptation in your voice, in your warmth, in your hands curled into his waist. Like the first time he ever kissed you, he leans close again, a hitch in his breath when his lips finally meet yours in a spark. From there, it's all muscle memory and the tandem beat of your hearts. He stops his hands from slipping any lower down your pretty dress. The same one he zipped up the curve of your back not an hour ago.
What he'd give to misbehave like that. Here. In the face of responsibility and important arrangements. To misbehave for your sake, just because you begged. Asked, really, but he'd drop everything just the same if it was only a vague suggestion. If he could somehow read your mind, he'd bend to your every whim and you'd never have to utter a word.
In losing track of himself, he sighs. Right into the softness of your mouth because he knows you know how he likes your fingers twisted in his soft, chestnut hair. You do just that and grin when he grows noisy like you knew he would.
"Hello?" A curious, soprano voice calls from the stairwell.
"Shit," you hiss. You pull away when his resilience won't let him, the butt of your skull meeting the hard stone with a thud. "Ow."
"Are you hurt?" he whispers, ushering you further into the cranny and cradling your head in his palm. Your fingers hold his wrist and you chuckle at the sheen of his wet mouth in the firelight. He presses his sure palm to your lips to muffle the raucous sound. "Merlin's Beard, you've gone loopy. I'll heal you with a kiss!"
"Is someone there?" The voice whines again.
His lips only serve to make you cackle harder into the darkness, it's no help that he's grinning now, too. If that voice belongs to a ghoul or a vengeful spirit, they'll have to answer to your wrath before they're allowed to pass. Though, as of now, your wrath is characterized by a fit of giggles and sighs at the mercy of his mouth.
Footsteps clack down the hall, nearing your compromising position in the dark. The sound rings in your ears until you're forced to press him deeper into the nook, leaving yourself exposed to the soft light save for your arm, which he is lovingly latched to.
"Oh!" The girl warbles, taking a step back when she finally sees you. "It's you."
You recognize her as Ginny Weasley, you'd opposed her many times on the pitch. She looks fairly put together. Lovely, you suppose, not scowling or drenched in sweat the way most Quidditch games end. You're not so sure you have the same effect, dizzy and flustered as you are. Cedric's fingers squeeze yours from his place in the shadows.
"Yes, It's me!" you chirp, "Here I am!" It's like some spirit has possessed you. Some spirit under heavy influence of recreational drugs and endless confections maybe.
"Right," she says, nodding awkwardly and peering into the darkness behind you which traces his fingers over your knuckles and bows to kiss each one. You ought to smack the darkness upside the head for his thorough display of misbehavior. "We should probably go inside, or we'll be late."
"Oh, Merlin—must've lost track of time. I'll catch you inside, I just have something I need to..." you sigh, wiggling your hand out of his featherlight grip and perching it on your hip "I'll just be a minute."
"Alright. I'll let them know you're just...?"
"Getting fresh air!"
"Getting fresh air. Right," Ginny says, backing away towards the office door with a tight-lipped smile. Once the door bangs shut again, you draw Cedric into the light with a scowl to rival hellfire.
It makes his tummy turn with excitement. Makes him feel boyish and fresh and giddy. He can't decide whether he'd like to ravish you or let you ravish him. Either way, he's lucky like shiny pennies or rain on your wedding day. Which reminds him, but that's a story for another day. His soul is solidly and irrevocably tethered to yours whether you accept a metal band on your finger or not. Another day.
"Diggory!" you shout, and he catches your hand as it flies toward his shoulder. He's smiling, laughing at your expense. You think you ought to punish his awfully handsome face with some sort of kiss. An eye for an eye, as they say.
"Getting fresh air? Is that really the first thing that came to your mind?" he says through his laughter, drawing you in by the hips, “I think I should tell you now that the nearest window is at the complete opposite end of the hall!"
"If only I hadn't been distracted—"
But you're bested again by his large, warm hands spread across your lower back. And his smile tempting you. He could get anything he ever wanted with that kind of smile, drawn up at the corners and dimpling his rosy cheeks. Curse him and the tiny flakes of gold flowing through his bloodline.
"You were saying?"
"Nothing! We're late," you mutter, face hot and fingers tight as he's dragged across the way to the door. And as the heavy hinges squeal open, he thinks he'd like to misbehave for you more often so long as you'd string him along forever.
Summary: Theseus Scamander x Hufflepuff!Reader -> Tension has been growing between yourself and Theseus for over ten years so what happens when that tension finally breaks?
Disclaimer: This contains smut towards the end so MDNI 18+. Best friends to lovers, yule ball, reader gets stood up so Theseus steps in, co-workers to lovers, fluff, yearning, feelings, smut.
“What are you doing here?”
Looking up from your book, you were a little shocked you’d heard a voice. By the few steps above the earth pit filled with sofas and earth-bound comfiness, you saw Theseus standing there looking perplexed.
“Isn’t it obvious?” You asked him, holding up the book you’d had your nose buried in only moments ago.
“No-” Theseus stalled. “Well, yes but-” He paused for a moment and took a breath. “I thought you were at the Ball.”
Ah, the Ball. The Yule Ball; hosted every winter for those who are fourth year and over. It wasn’t as grand as it would be, should the Triwizard Tournament be hosted. But it was still the most anticipated thing known around Hogwarts.
For those that cared. Which, you did. Or rather, you did…once.
“Came back early,” you told him, looking back at your book, silently praying he wouldn’t recognise your lie.
But the slight smirk in his voice as he spoke told you otherwise. “Funny. I was there for at least four hours. Four dreadful hours. But I didn’t see you once.”
You cleared your throat, trying to focus on your book. “That’s funny, because I saw you.”
Theseus’ grimaced as he walked inside, removing his tie and flopping down on the sofa across from you. “Oh, god, you didn’t see me trip whilst dancing with Professor Quinn, did you?”
You looked at him over the edge of your book. “Nice try but you would never dance with Professor Quinn.”
Rather than looking defeated, however, Theseus gave you a coy grin. “Touche.”
Settling back into your book, you were thankful it hid most of your face when Theseus continued his sentence. “But you should know I’m an excellent dancer and also a gentleman. A gentleman never refuses a lady’s request to dance.”
Theseus chuckled as he watched you pause mid-flip of your page. “Want to tell me why you’re hiding in here? I thought you were excited to go?”
It took you a moment, but eventually you sighed and closed your book. It wasn’t all that entertaining if you were being completely honest with yourself.
Although there was a friendly mocking tone to his face as he looked at you, probably waiting for some story you found too embarrassing to talk about – an ugly coloured dress that should have been burned two centuries earlier, probably.
But there was still a worried kindness in his eyes, because he knew you’d been excited to go. He’d seen you with your friends, planning outfits and dates, practicing dances, breaking in heels that you wished to wear.
So why on earth, at the height of the night, were you sitting alone in the common room, reading?
“I was,” you confirmed. “But plans changed.”
Theseus’ eyes scanned over your expression. Something tugged at his gut; there wasn’t some laugh-about-it-later story held in the secret corners of your mind. Something had…changed.
Carefully, he sat up. “What changed?”
You’d managed to hold up a wall all night. It helped you were alone after your friends left Ravenclaw tower. You’d been waiting for a date who never intended to show.
“Theseus.”
He could see the tears in your eyes and the shake of your chest as you tried to hold the walls up. He moved in an instant, taking a seat beside you and hugging you tight.
“It’s alright,” he said, softly.
With your book in your lap, you hugged Theseus back and let out a few tears.
“I waited for an hour,” you admitted. “I waited for him to show and then I thought, maybe, he’d forgotten. By the time I went downstairs, I’d planned to keep my head high but then I found out he never intended to show up. He’d invited someone else and I found them…in a rather compromising position behind the court-yard.”
“He’s a jerk, Y/n.”
“I know,” you nodded, sitting back a little.
One of Theseus’ hands rested against the back of the sofa as he sat beside you, whilst his other hand reached out and gently swiped the stray tears from your eyes. You tried to smile, but your feelings were still hurt.
“I know,” you repeated. “My tears are wasted on him.”
“Very much so,” Theseus said. “You didn’t deserve that- you don’t. And nobody could ever forget you.”
Against the book in your lap, you held his hand. “Thank you, Theseus.”
He nodded, silently saying ‘you’re welcome’. But then he smiled as he lightly squeezed your hand. “I mean it.”
And then, after a quiet moment of your gaze locked onto his, he stood and held out his hand. “Come on, then.”
You chuckled. “What are you doing?”
“Well, if you’d still like to go to the Yule Ball, I will accompany you.”
You stood. “That’s very kind of you, Theseus. But I think everyone is probably drunk off the spiked eggnog.”
He shrugged. “Then we shall have our own.”
“What are you-” You couldn’t help but smile as you watched him wave his wand around the room.
The lights dimmed into candle flames, held in winter flowers that bloomed along the walls and ceilings. The warmth of the fire grew a little brighter as the ground beneath your feet transformed into a slightly harder surface than the mossy ground.
After changing out of your Yule dress and back into your skirt and blouse, after you’d decided to try and hide away in the common room all evening, you’d failed to get dressed into your pajamas when you returned.
So, from the sofa, a light dusting of snowflakes shook out and covered your skirt. Finally, from the ceiling, a twilight sky grew and let snow fall gently around both of you.
“Theseus, this is…beautiful.” However, in the back of your mind, a question started to grow.
If Theseus could do all of this with a simple wave of his wand…why had he needed your help with practicing his Charms only a few weeks ago?
Theseus smiled at you, pocketing his wand, and holding your hand before gently raising it. “Now, I know my mother taught myself and Newt that gentleman never refuse a lady’s request to dance. I’m hoping you were perhaps taught something like it.”
You smiled, a little nervously as you took a step towards him. “I might have been told a lady should accept a gentleman’s offer…so long as I consider him a gentle man.”
Theseus smiled, a little nervously. “And do you?”
Laying your free hand on his upper arm, you nodded. “I do.”
A gentle but caring smile washed over his mouth before he laid his hand around your waist and started leading you to the music you’d only just recognised was playing.
Looking back on that night with Theseus, you figured maybe that was when you had fallen for him.
But you couldn’t be too sure, because your friendship with him, although hadn’t been much to begin with, had only grown from that night onwards.
The next day, you found out your date had found himself unknowingly stuck in the muddy fields of the Quidditch pitch. Even after the Charms professor managed to get him unstuck, it took him weeks before he was able to have mud no longer stick to his clothing or even him.
A year later, Theseus graduated. A year after that, you did.
He wrote to you, during his service in the war. Mostly, you worked undercover until an injury in the field left your bosses worried about losing one of their best assets, wanting to keep you alive. Instead, you ran the secret communications office.
You were told Theseus had come to visit you in the hospital but he’d been called away before you’d woken up.
As the days went on and promotions were given, ten years had passed since that night of the Yule Ball.
“What are you doing here?” You asked with a smile as you found a familiar face sat at your desk.
Theseus leaned back with that same smile that gave you a light and funny feeling in your stomach.
“Can’t one just drop by to see their very good friend?”
You narrowed your eyes at him, playfully, and hummed. “Maybe,” you said as you closed the door behind you. “So long as that very good friend you speak of doesn’t already know of your ulterior motive.”
Theseus feigned shock and held a hand against his broad chest. Pushing himself from your desk, he slowly walked around it until he was face to face with you. “What ulterior motive could I possibly be hiding?”
You hummed once more, before looking into your bag and pulling out a single leaflet. “That you are in need of a date and, since whisperings of your rather mediocre attempt at finding one has left you with very minimal options.”
Theseus clicked his tongue with a slight tilt of his head. Lifting his head a little, he looked down and plucked the leaflet from your hand.
There was barely three inches of room between both of you, so the quiet sound of his sigh of defeat filled you with both joy and another unnamed feeling that you could only describe as…wanting to hear it again.
“It is meant to be rather fun,” he pointed out. “And it’s also for charity.”
You gave him a short look that hid a smile. “Fine. I’ll go with you. One one condition.”
Theseus smiled, but nodded, waiting for your condition.
“You actually ask.”
It was his turn to give you a look. “Just for the record, I was about to ask.”
You nodded. “I know. But you would have danced around it and tried to paint a rather pretty picture of something that we both know can be incredibly tedious.”
Theseus smiled at you, his gaze tracing every angle and curve of your face. Then, taking a breath before he was knocked off his feet, he finally asked.
“Would you please accompany me to Friday’s charity gala, as my date?”
You waited a moment before nodding with a polite smile. “Yes, Theseus. I’d be honoured.”
A smile of relief washed over him as he held his hand over his heart once more. He bent his knees a little, dramatically portraying the weight being lifted from his shoulders. “Thank you.”
You chuckled as he held onto your shoulders before kissing both of your cheeks. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” you laughed. “But I should tell you that your new assistant is looking for you. Apparently you have a meeting.”
Theseus stood tall once more, taking a small step back to let you pass and get to your desk. “Right, yes.”
“I will see you later, Theseus.”
He bowed his head as he left, trying to hide the redness you could probably see on his cheeks. “See you later.”
By the time Friday rolled around, you were nervous to say the least.
You’d changed your outfit several times, consulted at least three books on how to style your hair, and spent almost ninety minutes doing your make-up.
With a final few deep breaths as you checked yourself over in the mirror, you heard your doorbell ring.
“It’s just a couple of hours,” you told yourself. “You can do this. It’ll be fine. Completely fine.”
And it was.
Until you opened your front door and found Theseus standing on the doorstep, dressed in a tux and looking all kinds of handsome that shouldn’t have been legal.
Theseus went to speak, but all words failed him as his eyes roamed across you before landing back on your own eyes. “You look…”
Theseus swallowed thickly and for a moment, you panicked. “Is it terrible? Oh, god. This is why I don’t– give me a second. I’ll try and find something-”
“No!” Theseus reached out for you quickly. “Sorry, no. It’s not terrible. I just wasn’t prepared for…”
Theseus felt like he couldn’t breathe. But in no way did he feel suffocated. He knew you were beautiful. His feelings over the last decade or more had always felt stronger than those that he’d held for any other woman in his life.
Parts of you always struck him whenever he got the chance to see you. Your smile, your laughter, the way you’d sigh at how bad his handwriting was. There were more moments than a few in a day where he found himself never wanting to look away from you.
Mentally, he’d tried his best to prepare himself for the evening. He knew you’d be stunning. He knew you’d look at him with that simple but graceful smile and he’d feel so weak in his knees, he’d want to drop to them and pray to you as if you were the only Goddess he’d ever accept existing.
But when you opened the door…
Nothing could have prepared him for your beauty.
“You look stunning,” he told you. “Truly.”
“Oh.”
Standing still, you took a moment to calm down from your raging internal panic.
For a few moments, there was a silent tension. It would only build throughout the night, the longer you felt his eyes on you and he felt your hand on him.
However, still standing on the doorstep, you both heard the sound of Big Ben ring out across the city night. “We should-”
Theseus nodded. “Right, we should-”
“Go,” you both agreed.
As the night drew on, the same tension you’d both felt outside your home only seemed to grow. His smile and his laugh made you lightheaded. And by the time he’d held out his hand and led you effortlessly to the dancefloor, you were starting to feel overwhelmed.
The memory of the Yule Ball flashed through your mind as your eyes remained fixed on his, dancing around the floor.
Then you noticed the look in his eyes.
“What?” You asked him. “What is it?”
“Nothing,” he smiled with a light shake of his head. “Just…remembering…things.”
You chuckled, a little nervously, because you had been doing the same.
By the end of the night, the atmosphere around both of you was practically stabbing you in the back of your neck. Each light touch of his hand felt like it was burning your skin, but it wasn’t at all painful.
“I think we need to talk,” Theseus said, finally breaking the tension as you both landed in your fireplace.
He’d felt something change just before you walked with him onto the dancefloor, and ever since, that change had been weighing over both of you, wrapped in a cloud of fear. But he cared about you too much to let the Change change you both forever, and not in the way he so desperately wished.
You’d practically ran out of the fireplace and around your home by the time he spoke up.
“What about?” You asked, after downing a glass of water.
Theseus scratched the back of his head. He could leave, but that would mean the noticeable tension would only grow into something possibly unbearable.
“I think you know.”
You shook your head, but Theseus rushed forward. “Yes, yes, you do.”
“Haven’t the foggiest,” you said, nerves laced through your voice as you kept you back to him and moved around your home.
With a wave of your wand, you tidied everything away. Dresses rushed back into the decorative box that lay besides your sofa, the jackets and shawls rushed past Theseus and headed to your stand by your front door. All the while, he practically chased you around your home.
“Y/n, please.”
“We’re friends,” you said, lifting the brown paper bag filled with your new make-up products. You hurried past him, into your hallway and up the stairs.
Theseus followed.
“We shared a dance,” you said, reaching the landing and heading towards your bedroom.
“That was all,” you finished, laying the bag on your vanity and pulling the shawl from your shoulders, feeling too hot and panicked.
You could hear Theseus’ breath – he was trying to catch it as he remained at your bedroom door. His bow tie was loose, his coat open and his hair was a little messier than it had been when you’d first arrived home.
“Was it?”
Trying to keep your breath steady, you slowly turned around and faced him. He was leaning with his arm against the side of your doorframe, looking just as terrified as you. “Yes.”
“Liar.”
Truthfully, even you hadn’t convinced yourself when you’d answered ‘yes’.
Looking at each other, trying to catch your breath from a night of tension, all it took was your name and a simple word to slip from his lips to have you moving across the room towards him.
“Y/n…please…”
Pulling him in, you kissed him.
With his arm still against the doorframe, his other pulled you in at your waist and turned you. Your back was against the wooden frame as he blocked you against it, kissing you back and never wishing to stop.
You gasped a little as his teeth gently bit into your bottom lip, and then you felt him smile. You kissed him harder, pulling him in closer.
With your hands sliding under his coat, you motioned for him to take it off. And he did so, barely breaking his kiss with you.
With his coat and tie left stranded outside your bedroom door, you pulled him with you as you walked backwards into your bedroom. His hands grappled for your hips and waist as you removed his dinner jacket and waistcoat.
You managed to get half of his shirt buttons undone before he crumpled your dress by your thighs and lifted you until your legs were wrapped around him.
A few seconds passed and he had you pressed against one of your bedroom walls, his mouth trailing along your jaw, neck and exposed collar.
“Theseus,” you breathed, pushing your hand through the back of his hair. You gasped a little as he found your pulse point and trailed his teeth across your soft skin before lightly sucking.
He groaned in pleasure as you whispered his name again. His lips were fixed on your neck, but his hands; one held you in place whilst the other roamed along your body, igniting your skin that was still annoyingly covered by your dress.
Moving his head, needing to feel his lips on yours again; he obliged.
Without you having to say anything, Theseus started to move you over to your bed where he lay you down gently and kept kissing you.
Your fingers moved quickly to undo the rest of his shirt buttons whilst his hands lifted your thighs and opened them a little.
Under your dress, he gently squeezed at the soft flesh of your waist, pulling you closer to him.
“Theseus,” you breathed into the kiss. “Please. Please, touch me.”
Your underwear was already soaked through, which was more than a pleasure to find out. Finally touching you, you lifted your hips a little as he applied a little pressure and carefully curled his fingers inside of you.
His breath quickened as he took you in, laying under him, both of you drunk on the kiss.
“You’re beautiful,” he told you. “So,” he kissed the corner of your mouth and then your neck. “So beautiful.”
By the time the sun had risen over the city, yourself and Theseus were lying together in a tangled mess of bedsheets and pillows, whilst both of your clothes lay thrown around the room.
Your dress, from when he’d helped you stand on aching legs, was delicately thrown over the clothing divider in the corner of your room. His shirt was hanging on the post just beside it. His trousers lay crumbled on the floor, alongside his socks and shoes, as well as your own.
You woke first, still sore and tired (but in the best way). Theseus was still lying beside you, sleeping. Though you doubted the sleeping part when you tried to move and the arm he had lay securely across you refused to let you leave.
“Darling,” Theseus’ voice was deep and tired, but still somehow managed to have his playful edge laced throughout.
Theseus didn’t have to open his eyes to see the smile you couldn’t even begin to hide, spread across your face. With his arm as he turned from his front to his side, he pulled you in closer to him, tangling his legs with yours.
He’d carried feelings for you, for over ten years. And last night, things finally changed for the better.
He wasn’t about to let you get away again.
“It’s nearly twelve,” you told him.
He blew a small raspberry, his eyes still closed. “It’s barely nine.”
He buried his face into your neck, carefully and slowly kissing and nipping at your skin. “I was meant to tidy my office today.”
“On the weekend?” His brows furrowed before he groaned, feeling you lightly drag your nails down his bare side and under the covers. “You’re such a nerd. I love it. But, you should know the Ministry doesn’t open until eleven on the weekends. And, since it’s only six-”
You giggled a little, leaning into his touch. “You just said it was nine.”
Theseus opened his eyes to look at you, just before rolling you onto your back. “It’s the weekend. We don’t have to move until Monday.”
“At all?”
He nodded. “At all.”
Only, you frowned. “That’s a shame.”
“Why-”
Theseus didn’t need to finish his question, as in one swift movement, he was laying under you as you straddled his hips. Theseus laughed as you leaned above him, kissing him in between your words. “Because I-” Kiss. “Planned on-” Kiss. “Doing a lot-” Kiss. “Of moving.”
However, before you kissed him again, you quickly added; “After tidying my office.”
You tried to get up, but Theseus was too quick. “Ah, hey, no you, don’t-”
You laughed as he pulled you back into bed, rolling over you and keeping you in place.
Waiting more than a decade to act on growing feelings meant a lot of unsaid words and actions; and Theseus planned on saying and doing them all.
cw: stranger-to-lovers, faking dating, fluff, family drama, lil angst, technically one bed trope
No one raised an eyebrow when Sirius had you tucked under his arm in the Gryffindor stands during the Gryffindor vs Slytherin quidditch match. The students around you were deafening. But you weren’t watching the match, not really. You were replaying what happened when you met up with Sirius on the path the pitch earlier.
“Hey Sirius!” you had called as you walked up to him, Remus and Peter.
All three of them turned to look at you, but the other two didn’t compare to Sirius. It wasn’t even close. His whole face lit up at the sight of you tying his Gryffindor scarf around you. Of course, you were simply playing the part of his girlfriend, and you figured his girlfriend would wear his scarf. Why wouldn’t you wear it to a match that his house was playing in?
Still, he looked so goddamn happy. And you couldn’t shake that image from your head, nor the flip your stomach did when he smiled so widely you might’ve been able to see all of his teeth. He had pulled you into a hug and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Ready to see some lions demolish those snakes?” he asked.
“They don’t stand a chance!” Peter yelled and the four of you headed to the stands.
Between the noise, Sirius’ signature cologne, the feeling of his arm around you and the fact that you were simply replaying his face lighting up, you didn’t realize that the match had ended until Sirius was dragging you onto the pitch. Gryffindor’s seeker caught the snitch, obviously.
The entirety of Gryffindor house was overly obnoxious with their excitement for the win. The players’ names were being chanted and some seventh years lifted the seeker onto their shoulders, earning louder cheers from the crowd. It was all a lot, but Sirius didn’t let go of you for one second. Not even to properly congratulate James. Sirius clapped his sweaty friend on the back with a jovial “You did it, mate!” but that was it.
“You’re coming to the party,” Sirius told you once the two of you had stepped away from the center of the crowd.
You blinked up at him. “Oh, I was planning on catching up-”
“You’re my girlfriend. You have to be there! Plus it’ll be fun!”
You pursed your lips together. The parties students threw weren’t your scene. You had never gone to one outside of the Hufflepuff Common Room, since at least there you’d have an easy escape. You’d heard that other houses were rowdier. Much rowdier.
Then Sirius gave you his impressive puppy-dog eyes and you remember his face lighting up at the scarf, which you subconsciously fidgeted with. You caved. Whatever homework or reading or whatever you would’ve busied yourself with could be put off until tomorrow.
“Fine.”
“Brilliant!” His face lit up again.
With an arm around your waist, he led you to the Gryffindor Common Room for the celebration.
Sirius’ assurance that the party would be fun couldn’t be further from the truth. At least, not for you. Your eyes darted around the room, seeing the few Gryffindors you could potentially talk to all being busy with someone or something else. One leg crossed over the over, foot bouncing and a deathgrip on your bottle of butterbeer. You had thought the cheering in the stands was deafening, yet it paled in comparison to whatever was happening around you.
To his credit, Sirius never ventured too far from you. He glanced back to where you sat from time to time, flashing his wild grin. He stopped by to make sure you were good with your drink, which at the time wasn’t even half empty. As you nursed it, you decided that you should’ve been more firm in telling Sirius that this isn’t anything close to your scene, even if it is his.
You waited until you finished your bottle before bailing. You found Sirius attempting to stack empty bottles into a tower with Remus and someone you didn’t really know. You had to put a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.
“I’m going to head out. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you yelled – you had to or you weren’t sure if he would’ve heard you.
You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm to pull you close to him. He kissed you. It was more firm than your first; it lasted longer too. Then he gave the boys a salute and walked out of the common room with you.
“I, erm, I can find my way back,” you said, trying not to sound flustered and awkward. “You can return to the party.”
He shook his head. “Nonsense. I’ll walk with you.” He reached your hand to intertwine your fingers. “Everything alright?”
You shook your head slightly. “That was just… too much. You’re the only one I really know or talk to at this point.” You shrugged.
“I could’ve sat with you,” he said, giving you a worried look. “I should’ve-”
“No, Sirius. It’s fine. I mean it. I just… it’s no big deal. I’m just not ready for Gryffindor parties, I guess.”
He frowned and looked like he wanted to press it further, but he let it go.. Somehow, he kept forgetting that you weren’t Mary. You weren’t any of the girls who he usually let hang off of him. So, naturally, it made sense that you weren’t going to like all the things they did.
He gave your hand a squeeze and relaxed a bit when you squeezed it back. You were immensely glad he left it at that and you walked the rest of the way to your common room in silence. It allowed your mind to settle, your nerves to ease. It was comfortable being with just Sirius. Because, yes, the relationship was fake but there was a friendship between you.
“Thanks, though.” Your voice was soft. “For walking me back. It was nice.”
“I’ll walk with you wherever,” he said, smiling. He seemed to understand now that the party was overwhelming for you and getting out of there was a necessity.
You saw it happening before he really moved. His eyes flickering toward your lips. His leaning forward. One hand coming up to rest on your cheek and the other resting on your hip. And you felt yourself moving almost instinctively. Both hands on his chest and leaning into the kiss yourself. Kissing him back.
There was more feeling than back in the common room. That one felt performative. That one was for the people at the party who knew Sirius and the kind of person that he was. This felt like when he called you his girl, like it was for you. And that was enough to put your heart into overdrive.
You were breathless as you pulled back and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sirius.”
And then you disappeared into your common room. Sirius stood there for a minute. He ran a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. He was a tad shocked that you had kissed him back. He told himself that he was just helping you get used to kissing him; he thought it felt right for you to start showing a little bit of PDA. And if you were reciprocating, that must be a sign that you were okay with him being more affectionate in public.
And maybe that would be enough to get a reaction out of Regulus and his parents. That was the purpose of this. The only reason he was doing this, besides getting to know you in order to not make a fool of you in front of your parents at the muggle party. Annoying his family was his sole reason. Nothing else. Nothing had changed.
---
Maybe it was because you really only had Emmeline and you knew she had plenty of other friends, but you were spending a ton of time with Sirius and his friends. He walked you back to your common room every evening, assuming he didn’t have detention for a prank or talking back to a professor.
Sirius probably looked extremely possessive. He practically had a hand on you at all times. He seemed particularly fond of having an arm around your waist. He had a special look just for you, one of adoration and softness. If you didn’t know the truth, you would’ve thought this boy was completely smitten with you. The way he reached for you whenever he sensed your presence felt like it couldn’t be faked. And here you were, knowing that all of it was.
Sirius had made it his mission to show your relationship off in front of anyone and everyone who looked your way. Still, there was nothing from Regulus nor his parents. Sirius could flaunt you all he wanted. He received no repercussions from the Black family.
Emmeline, however, had quite the opinion of your relationship. She told you as much during one of your now-less-frequent library study sessions.
“You are ridiculously cute together!” she gushed. “And I’d say you’re better for him than Mary ever was. She’s pretty nice, don’t get me wrong, but seems really happy with you. I even heard a professor say it’s nice to see him applying himself. Reckon that’s from all that time he’s spending with you in the library.” She shook her affectionately. “I miss my study buddy, but you should see yourself when he says your name. You light up like a bloody Christmas tree with those muggle fairy lights.”
“Let’s hope he can survive an evening with my family,” you said lightly as the winter break drew near.
You had mentally decided at the start of December that that would be how you”broke up” with Sirius, ending the charade after the holidays. You’d tell everyone that your parents were horrendous than either of you could have predicted and it just wasn’t going to work. You hadn’t told Sirius about this plan yet. You’d get there eventually.
Too soon, it was time to go home for Christmas break. Although neither of you said it out loud, you knew that both didn’t want to leave. You had complained about your respective families enough times over the past few weeks to get the feeling across. But now you were walking with Sirius and the boys to the Hogsmeade Station.
“Go on ahead, we’ll just be a second,” Sirius told his friends once you arrived at the platform. They nodded and boarded the train with you. “Come here.” Then he pulled you into a tight hug – cologne ever present. “I just wanted to say goodbye in case I don’t see you on the other side.
You laughed. “Sounds like you might die on the train.”
“Just might.” There was his bright grin. “I’ll write and we can figure out where I need to meet you. Your parents good with an owl? Or do I need to figure out muggle post?”
“My parents good with an owl? No,” you snorted, “but send it anyways. Muggle post would defeat the purpose of you being a wizard.”
You leaned up to kiss him. He was still smiling when you pulled away. Then you boarded the train together, but he went to the Marauders’ usual compartment and you started searching for Emmeline.
“No girlfriend for two weeks? How will you survive?” Peter teased as the door slid closed behind Sirius and he took the open spot next to Remus.
“We’re not that codependent-”
“Past month says otherwise,” Remus muttered.
“-but I am going to a Christmas party with her family. Kind of excited for that.”
“Her family? Muggles then?” Peter leaned forward.
Sirius nodded.
“You’ll have to tell us how that goes. We don’t celebrate with Mum’s family,” Remus said.
“It’s going to be weird not seeing you gits for two weeks,” James said as he stretched his legs out under the seat across from him. “I don’t even know why we’re going to Greece.”
“To travel, see the world?” Remus suggested as if it wasn’t the most obvious answer.
“To culture you,” Sirius added.
“If they wanted to culture me, we could’ve gone to France and then you could’ve convinced your parents to take you and Regulus to the Black Manor there. Imagine, the Marauders take on Paris!”
Sirius snorted a laugh. “The Black Manor isn’t in Paris.”
“Well, no. But they have trains.” James paused. “I think. Remus, they have trains, right?”
“How the hell would I know? Do I look like I’ve traveled?”
Sirius, having been the only one of the four that had been to France, couldn’t answer the question. He hadn’t been allowed off of the manor’s property. As he listened to his friends debate whether the French muggles were advanced enough for trains or buses or some kind of transportation that they could use, Sirius thought about asking the boys what they thought about his family’s lack of reaction to you so far. There was no way that Regulus didn’t know that he was dating you and that you were a muggleborn. And there was no way that Regulus hadn’t written home about it; he was a snitch when it came to Sirius.
Sirius wasn’t surprised at how quickly his mind went back to you; you had become a large part of his day-to-day life. He doesn’t bring it up though. He worried that if he started talking about getting a rise out of his family, he’d let it slip that he’s only dating you to piss off his parents, and you’re only dating him to piss off yours while having a tolerable date to the Christmas party. It wasn’t that the boys couldn’t keep a secret. It just felt right to keep it completely a secret. It helped Sirius maintain the illusion and prevented any slip ups.
After the train pulled into King’s Cross Station, Sirius took his sweet time getting off the train, not quite ready to leave the company of his friends. The atmosphere they provided easily topped that of his family. When he did spot his parents in the crowd, they were impatiently waiting for him with Regulus already at their side.
“It’d do you good to be punctual, boy,” Orion said. “Time is everything.”
“Whatever.”
“Manners,” Walburga snapped, causing Sirius to flinch ever so slightly.
Then he rolled his eyes and followed behind Regulus as the family made their way to the exit. He briefly scanned the crowd in a last minute attempt to catch one last glimpse of you. You were long gone by this point. While you also weren’t looking forward to exchanging your friend for your family, you knew better than to keep them waiting. Being muggle, they were unable to access the platform. You met them out by the ticket office, like you always did.
“Kreacher, bring the trunks upstairs,” Orion said as soon as the family stepped through the door.
The elf grunted in response. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk.
Regulus and Sirius exchanged empty glances. They both knew that they were more than capable of bringing their trunks upstairs.
“Dinner will be ready soon. Go change,” Walburga said, taking off her coat and hanging it up.
They had been home for less than five minutes and Sirius was already looking forward to your party. In his opinion, anything was better than spending time with his family. He had debated staying at school for the holidays at one point, but he made a deal with you and he wasn’t going to back out of it. He couldn’t let you down.
Walburga yelled for Sirius to join the family for dinner. Apparently he wasn’t to keep them waiting any longer today. The room was silent when he pulled his seat back with everyone’s eyes watching him. He immediately started cutting into the steak on his plate, not waiting for anything.
“Sirius, tell me about this girlfriend you apparently have,” Walburga said with a firm and even voice.
His fork clattered against his plate. “What?”
“Regulus told us that you have a girlfriend. Have you picked someone with a proper future? Good blood?”
“Well, you won’t like her. And I’m going to a Christmas party with her next week.”
Walburga’s eyes narrowed at her eldest son. Regulus smirked.
“How do you know we won’t like her?”
“Trust me, I know.”
“Sirius Orion, answer your mother,” Orion said flatly.
“She’s in Hufflepuff and a muggleborn.”
All color drained from Walburga’s face. “Are you trying to embarrass us more than you already do?”
Sirius shrugged and took a bite of his dinner.
“It is an honor to be a Black and you act like it’s your mission to tarnish our good name,” Orion said.
“The name was tarnished long before I did anything,” Sirius mumbled.
“Young man, you have already proven yourself to be a disgrace to us. I’d say you’re a borderline disaster,” he snapped.
“Disappointment for a first born,” Walburga added.
Regulus sat there silently with an amused expression. He hadn’t told his parents any details about you because he wanted to witness the blowback rather than be the messenger.
“She’s quite lovely,” Sirius said through gritted teeth, trying to keep some kind of calm demeanor. “If you were remotely decent, you’d give her a chance and maybe you’d like her.”
“You are a damned plague to our bloodline,” Orion said bitterly.
“Right.” Sirius left the table and his plate that he had only taken a few bites of.
He locked himself in his room and threw himself onto his bed. He stared at the ceiling. He’d sneak down in the middle of the night to get something to eat. Now that they knew about you, he doubted his parents would make him sit through meals with them. If they tried, he’d refuse.
“If he thinks he’s going to a party with… that girl… No. He won’t,” Walburga said in a low voice. The comment wasn’t really directed at anyone but it lingered in the air. The rest of the dinner was quiet.
“Claire said it’s not too late to invite Marcus,” your mother told you as you helped clear the dinner table a few days later.
“We don’t need to invite Marcus. I told you, my boyfriend is coming.”
“There’s no need to lie. No one is named Sirius. We can ask Claire if any of her other friends would be available, if you’re going to be a pain about Marcus.”
“I’m not lying! Sirius is my boyfriend and he promised he’d come.”
“Please, you’ve never said anything about a boyfriend. All my friends know when their sibling is dating someone,” Claire said from the doorway. “If you think getting pretend stood up is getting you out of the party, you’re out of your mind.”
You looked to your mother. “Would that have worked?”
“No!”
“Damn. Well, either way, Sirius is coming. So don’t contact Marcus or anyone else. I have a date.”
Similar conversations were had until Sirius’ owl arrived. It tapped against the kitchen window until Claire screamed for you and you let it in. Sirius had written that his parents exploded at him when he told them about you, so part two of the deal was complete, and he asked for the details about the party. You left the owl in the kitchen as you went to write your response.
“Mum! She has a bird in the kitchen!” Claire shrieked.
“Wizards use owls for mail,” you tried to explain as you returned, closely followed by your mother. “I’ve told you this a hundred times.”
“That is no reason for one to be in our house,” your mother gasped, unable to remove her eyes from the bird perched on a chair back.
“Except that I’m a wizard. As is Sirius. And all of his family.”
“Just get this bird out of my house before it ruins our furniture.”
You wrote as quickly as you could and sent the owl back to Sirius. You also included your sister and mother’s reaction to his owl, figuring he’d get a laugh out of that.
---
“Wow…” Sirius heard as he headed downstairs from his bedroom.
He stopped in front of his brother’s room.
“What now?”
“I don’t know what’s worse: that you’re actually going to some muggle party or that that’s what you’re wearing,” Regulus sneered.
“Muggle clothes?” Sirius asked as he looked down at his outfit. “What’d you expect? My best dress robes?” He laughed. “Use your head, Reg. I’m at least trying to blend in a bit.”
Sirius hurried down the rest of the stairs and slammed the front door on his way out. He didn’t bother saying goodbye to his parents; he knew they didn’t want him going, which is why he never told them when the party was. As he walked down the street, he felt eyes watching him. Kreacher was most definitely in the window, eyeing him. As soon as he turned the corner and was out of sight, Sirius stuck his wand out in front of him. Within seconds, the Knight Bus had pulled in front of him. A young man stepped out to greet him.
“Not my first ride, sir,” Sirius said coolly, handing the man eleven sickles before climbing aboard.
“And where are you headed, young man?” he asked, closing the door behind him as the bus started to move.
“Anywhere within a few blocks of the Arnold Ballroom. Muggles will be arriving there. I’ll find my way once I’m dropped.”
“Going to dance the night away, eh?” a shrunken head near the driver laughed. “Take ‘er away, Ern!”
Sirius hastily sat down on a bed before the bus jolted forward, sending all of the beds backwards. There were only a few other passengers on the lower level of the bus. Most of them were older, around his parents’ age. One was reading a book, which Sirius didn’t see how it was possible, given the bus’ erratic movements. As quickly as it had started, the bus stopped.
“Leaky Cauldron!” the conductor yelled.
Several people got up off their beds and exited the bus. The conductor helped move some of their trunks and other luggage.
“One of our most popular stops,” he said as he closed the door.
“I would assume so,” Sirius responded. “Plenty of shops and stuff in Diagon Alley.”
“And Knockturn Alley, too,” he added with a twisted smile.
Sirius grimaced, looking away. From the few shops his parents took him to, he knew it wasn’t a pleasant place.
“Next top, around the Arnold Ballroom!”
Your father stopped the family car in front of Claire’s boyfriend’s house.
“This Sirius, you said he’s meeting us there?” your mother asked you. “Not arriving by broom, is he?”
“Yes, he’s meeting us there. Didn’t specify how he’s traveling, but frankly, I’d prefer if he arrived via dragon,” you deadpanned, earning a gasp from your mother.
Claire shot you a nasty look before seeing her boyfriend open the front door.
“I’m kidding!” you exclaimed. “Sirius is well aware it’s a ‘no magic’ night. Especially around Roland.”
Claire opened her door and hopped out. She wrapped her arms around Roland. He was rather unremarkable in your opinion. You smiled to yourself at the fact that Sirius was better in every way, except that you knew that Roland liked Claire and Sirius didn’t like you like that.
“Come on, lovebirds,” your father yelled out his window. “We have a party to get to!”
Climbing back into the car, Claire introduced you. “This is my sister. I’ve told you about her and her boarding school.”
“Ah, hi! Glad you could join us tonight,” Roland said. “I thought you said Marcus was coming too?”
“No,” you said quickly, cutting off whatever excuse Claire was going to say about her own friends. “I actually have a boyfriend. He’s meeting us there. Claire just didn’t know about him when she tried setting me up with her friends.”
“Oh.”
Claire pursed her lips. She hadn’t asked if you were seeing anyone when she sent her letter; however, when you received the letter, you had rarely said a word to Sirius in your four years of schooling together. If anything, it was Claire’s letter that brought about your situation. Still, you weren’t going to pass up on the opportunity to bash on your sister.
“So, how was school?” Roland asked, leaning forward so he could see you past Claire.
“I think I’m passing. Unless you personally add up all your tests and stuff, they don’t really update you until after exams in the spring,” you said.
“Doesn’t seem quite right. I would definitely fail if we didn’t get reports,” he responded.
“Because you still somehow see studying as optional!” Claire said.
“It is! Most of the time… You just do your assignments, learn from those, and bam, A’s on tests.”
“If only it were that easy,” Claire sighed.
“Claire has made enough notecards to cover her entire room,” your mother laughed.
“And that’s only this past semester,” your father said. “When you are all done with schooling in a few years, I will be burning your boxes of notes. You won’t need them at uni.”
“But I might!” Claire gasped.
You looked out the window and tried to drown out the conversation. Roland seemed okay, but this was only your first time meeting him. To a point, he reminded you of a bland mix of Sirius and James. A little arrogant in their abilities to just know stuff, and therefore, irritated when they actually have to put in effort to get the grades they want.
Soon enough, you pulled up to the front of the Arnold Ballroom. You scanned the area for Sirius, not wanting to go in without him. You smiled when you spotted him leaning against a column near the front entrance. Even from a distance, you could tell that he dressed nicely. He waited for your family to walk towards him.
Completely at ease, he threw his arm around your shoulders and said, “Took you guys long enough to get here.”
“Didn’t I tell you we were picking up Claire’s boyfriend?”
“Don’t think so.”
“Roland. Nice to meet you…” Roland said, holding his hand out.
“Sirius,” he said curtly, not taking Roland’s hand. “Anyways, sweetness, you look absolutely gorgeous!”
Roland made a face like he had just bit into a lemon at Sirius’ rejection. Claire had raised her eyebrows at Sirius calling you “sweetness.” She wouldn’t have described you as anything close to sweet.
“She wouldn’t tell us much about you. How long have you been going out?” your father asked.
“Couple months now? Got together near the start of the term,” Sirius answered easily.
You had prepared him for the type of questions you knew your parents would ask. Everything you’d expect a parent to ask their child’s romantic partner, but you also prepared him for the edge that they’d likely have, being that he’s a wizard. You weren’t sure how Roland being there would affect that.
You had purposefully avoided telling your family as much as possible to minimize the chance of contradictions. You looked up at Sirius and smiled. Oh, that cologne. The relationship is fake, you reminded yourself. Fake.
“Is there any story to it?” Claire asked.
Sirius shot you a quick glance before answering. “Not really. Just noticed her in class when I hadn’t before.”
“I suppose she did bloom a bit,” Claire laughed.
“Oh, don’t be rude,” you snapped with a glare.
“Perhaps we head inside?” your mother interjected, motioning to the door.
Your father took the lead. He gave the greeter everyone’s name and handed out sticker name tags.
“I guess we’ll have to socialize tonight,” he said with a joking sigh.
With his arm still around your shoulder, he moved you into the crowd and, more importantly, away from your family.
“Sweetness?” you scoffed.
“What about it?”
“Never called me that at school.”
“I’ve decided to play it up. I only get one night with your family. We had weeks at school.”
“Well, if you have a stupid pet name for me, what can I call you?”
“The boys sometimes call me Pads for short?”
“For your other silly nickname, Padfoot?” You let out a dry laugh.
“That’d be the one.”
“I never call you that though. That’s for your friends. And for tonight, I’m your girlfriend.” You paused. “Stud!”
“Ew! No!”
“My boyfriend, the Stud!”
“Sweetness!”
You found the drink counter and asked for two Cokes. You handed Sirius his cup and he lifted it up to his eye level to give it a little swirl.
“What’s this?”
“Coke. Drink of the people.”
“Is it… good?”
“Oh, just try it.” You took a sip of your own to show that it wouldn’t kill him.
He then took a tiny sip. Sirius looked like he was mulling the taste over, smacking his lips and debating how he felt about the carbonation. The look on his face made you want to laugh.
“Well?” you asked with a cheeky smile.
He held up a finger and went to take another sip. Except it wasn’t just a sip. He downed the rest of the cup and turned back to the bartender to ask for another one. When he turned back to you with a fresh cup, he burped.
“Oh, excuse me.”
You burst out laughing. “So you liked it, I take it.”
“You said it was the drink of the people.”
You shook your head fondly and walked away from the counter. Sirius followed you, snaking his arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
“Level with me, sweetness. How has being at home been since having me as your boyfriend?”
“Everyone was convinced that you didn’t exist. Thought I was making you up.”
“I knew it. I’m too good to be true!”
You snorted a laugh. “More like they’ve never met anyone named Sirius.”
“Oi, what’s wrong with my name?”
“Just uncommon, Stud.”
“It’s a family name, you know.”
You leaned in to whisper, “So a wizarding name?”
“Hm… I suppose.”
You and Sirius found two seats at a mostly empty table. He placed a hand on your knee as you looked around the room, seeing if you knew anyone else here.
“How has your family been?” you asked.
“I’ve been avoiding them since that first dinner back when I told my parents about you. Not too much different than usual. Highlight of my day is when I nick the Daily Prophet before my father gets to it. I like the crosswords.”
“Huh. I wouldn’t’ve picked you for a crosswords bloke.”
“You should know by now that I’m full of surprises.”
“Yeah, I really should.”
When you finished your cup, Sirius offered to get a refill for you. While he’s gone, Claire passed by with Roland. She didn’t say anything, but she glared at you. You don’t think Roland even noticed you; that or he was still miffed that Sirius didn’t shake his hand. When Sirius came back, he not only had two fresh cups of Coke but a small plate of desserts.
“I see you found the snack table,” you said with a teasing lilt.
“Look at these! Mother never has Kreacher make anything like this.”
“Kreacher?”
“House elf,” he said plainly. He was surprised that the elf hadn’t come up in any conversation before.
“Oh. People have those? I thought that was just Hogwarts?”
“Families like mine do. He’s a crotchety old thing. Hates me, but the feeling’s mutual.”
You nodded and took a bite of one of the desserts from the plate. You sat at the table for a little bit, snacking and drinking and chatting. It was nice. You’d never tell Emmeline but she was right that Sirius was perfect. For being your date to party. And in general.
There was a shift in the music. A woman singing about Santa Claus faded until she was replaced with an instrumental piece. You probably wouldn’t have noticed if Sirius didn’t appear to perk up at the change.
“I know this one.” He stood up and held out his dance. “Dance with me.”
You stared up at him with wide eyes. It sounded like some kind of ballroom dance, something sophisticated, something you had no idea how to do.
“I don’t know how to,” you said quietly.
“You just have to follow my lead. It’s easy.”
Something about the way he said it made you take his hand. There weren’t too many people on the dance floor. The few that were there were doing a simple swaying kind of slow dance. Sirius took your hands and started to lead you around the floor. It was like he had a choreographed dance hardwired into him. But he was right, it was easy to follow him. And even when you took a misstep, he kept going and kept you upright.
When the song ended, you were breathing heavier than before. Then you noticed that several people had been watching you. You took Sirius’ hand and dragged him back to your table.
“Another secret revealed,” you said.
“Mother made me take lessons when I was younger. Apparently any respectable man can dance.”
“A bit old fashion, but it is an attractive quality.”
“You think I’m attractive?” he teased.
“Shut up.”
Then you saw someone you recognized headed toward you and Sirius. You grimaced. It was someone you had gone to school with before Hogwarts. And you knew through Claire that he had asked about you and why you left a lot. He was not someone you wanted to see.
“We need to move,” you told Sirius firmly.
You took his hand and searched for somewhere you could hide from the boy. You decided that behind one of the extravagant Christmas trees should be good enough. Sirius didn’t say anything; he just went with you. You peaked out from behind the tree and swore when you saw the boy had seen you go in that direction.
Back behind the tree, you looked at Sirius and then at his lips. Surely the boy wouldn’t interrupt you if you were occupied, right?
You grabbed Sirius’ shirt collar and pulled him down to you. Sirius didn’t know that there was a why to you bringing him behind this tree, but he wasn’t complaining as he kissed you back. His hands quickly found your hips and didn’t let go. Of all your kisses with Sirius so far, this was the most intense. There was a hunger to how Sirius was kissing you, nipping at your bottom lip and then sliding his tongue into your mouth when your lips parted enough for him to do so. As it got more heated, your hands let go of his shirt and moved up to his shoulders and then into his hair. It was your first, and probably only, proper snog with Sirius.
Not that you were really listening or focused on anything other than Sirius, there were approaching footsteps and a disgusted grunt followed by receding footsteps.The boy you had gone to school no longer had the urge to talk with you.
But then there were more footsteps.
“Oh my god, gross!” Claire’s voice rang out.
You and Sirius broke apart to see Claire and Roland staring at you.
“Have some common decency and dignity. Oh my god. Are you two fucking animals?” Claire hissed, having moved closer to you. “Control yourselves so we don’t get kicked out.”
Claire took Roland’s hand and stormed off. You looked at Sirius, embarrassed, and were relieved to see that he was looking just as embarrassed. Then you both started giggling.
“I guess you really meant it when you said dancing was an attractive quality,” Sirius said after he got control of himself.
You just smiled at him. You didn’t want to tell him that you were actually hiding from someone you knew. You almost wanted to tell him that you were simply playing the part of girlfriend. You didn’t. Maybe because part of you was really wishing it wasn’t a part but what you actually were.
“Want more Coke?” you asked.
After another hour or so spent talking and snacking at the table you had claimed earlier, you excited the ballroom together, hand in hand. You were happy to have not had any more run-ins with your family. You sat down on the steps off to the side of the building. Sirius sat down next to you.
“Successful evening, I’d say,” you told him. “Guess that means your end of the deal is done.”
He didn’t say anything; he just stared at the night sky.
“And you said you were avoiding your family after telling them about your mudblood girlfriend. I suppose that means they were sufficiently upset?” you asked, leaning back to take in his quiet handsomeness.
He nodded. “Definitely bothered and upset. Regulus is annoyed too, bonus.”
“So our deal is done then, huh.” You didn’t mean to sound upset by it.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
You tilted your head. “What do you mean? Wasn’t all this for you to piss off your parents and for me to do the same by bringing you to this party? And the party’s over.”
“I’m extending it,” Sirius said with finality in his voice. “You are much better company than my family and currently a perfect excuse to stay out of my house and not be alone.”
“And out of all your real friends, you want to spend time with me?”
“Potters are vacationing in Greece.” Because simply saying yes was too much.
Sirius laughed warmly. “God, imagine if I showed up on the Evans’ doorstep! Her parents would have me, but her sister? I’ve heard stories.”
“And the others?”
“Too far and spread out,” he said, knowing fully well that Remus and Peter would both take him in and that he could get to either with the Knight Bus.
“If you say so…” you said before adding with more softness to your voice, “I don’t mind extending our deal. Getting out of the house will be nice.”
“Glad you think so! Because I wasn’t giving you an option,” Sirius said smiling. “Want to get some butterbeers?”
“From where?”
“Come on,” he said, standing up and offering his hand to help you up.
Then he led you off to the side of the building and stretched his wand out into the street.
“Sirius!” you exclaimed before being nearly knocked onto the ground by the sheer force of the purple double decker bus appearing in front of you.
“Welcome to the Knight Bus,” Sirius said.
The conductor stepped off the bus and looked at Sirius, then at you.
“Back to where we picked you up? And for her?”
“Both to the Leaky Cauldron, the popular spot.” Sirius handed the man the needed coins and boarded.
“Well, come on, miss. We haven’t got all night,” the conductor said as you stood frozen.
You were hesitant to get on. Your parents were expecting to drive you home after the party. But butterbeers with Sirius sounded much more fun. You stepped up into the bus and sat next to Sirius on a bed.
“Two more for Leaky Cauldron,” the conductor told the driver.
“Hold on,” Sirius muttered in your ear moments before the bus jolted into motion.
In shock, you grabbed his thigh and squeezed it. You felt yourself blush deeply. You stopped yourself from looking at his face. He chuckled softly and placed his hand over yours.
“Told you. The first time gets everyone.”
The way he phrased it made you think that you weren’t the first girl he had taken on the Knight Bus, but you couldn’t think of any time when he would’ve had the chance. You didn’t even consider that he could’ve been the one to show James, Remus and Peter the bus.
The bus jerked to a stop in front of the pub. An older woman exited the bus before them; the conductor carried her bag to the door. Although you and Sirius followed her through the door, one inside, she was gone. Odd.
“Ah, Master Black,” a man said from behind the bar. “Can’t say I was expecting you tonight.”
“Hi Tom. Not too late for some butterbeers, is it?”
“For you? Not at all. Have a seat. I’ll have them out shortly.”
Sirius pulled two chairs down that had already been put up for closing. If it wasn’t so eerie, you would’ve thought the dim lighting was a bit romantic. The bartender, Tom, brought you and Sirius two bottles of butterbeers and then returned to his previous task of polishing glasses.
“So the bartender knows you pretty well?” you asked, taking a sip.
“Sometimes my parents would run errands in the alleys that aren’t, ah, kid friends. Tom would agree to watch me ‘n’ Reg for a few galleons. Probably a decent deal for him. Got some cheap labor out of us, minus a few broken glasses.”
“You broke glasses?”
“Eh,” Sirius shrugged. “I think Tom was glad it was glass that was broken and not Reg’s face. His reflexes were too good.”
“Or your aim was bad.”
“Hey! I have aim!”
“Then why aren’t you on the quidditch team with James?”
“Because I don’t sweat.”
“Almost makes you sound like a nerd.”
He gasped and placed a hand over his heart.
“Too dramatic for one though.”
“And Moony has dibs on being the nerd of the group.”
“Isn’t he the reason you’re passing History?” you asked.
“Correct. You cannot make me read that textbook.”
“You’ll be getting a troll in your O.W.L.s then. You know that, right?”
“I’ll just read the essays he wrote for me.”
“Okay, so you’ll get a dreadful,” you laughed. “I’ve talked to some older students. They ask about more than Binns will ever assign. Not sure how anyone actually passes those tests.”
“Or wants to. Can’t imagine there’s much for jobs in the magic historian department.”
“Don’t look at me for an answer to that. I’m still trying to figure out what jobs are available, period.”
“The Potters invented stuff. Mine live off family fortune from who knows what. Remus’s dad knows about spirits ‘n’ stuff. Peter’s dad sells potions. A skill he did not pass to his son. Work with magical creatures, as a curse breaker, specialized shop keeper. Auror. Healer. Plenty to do at the ministry.”
“You could probably go on and on. Perks of growing up within it all.”
Tom came over to refill your glasses.
“No need to call the Knight Bus back here again. I’ve got a room set up for you two. Everything you need will be up there.”
“Thank you, Tom. Wait one second,” Sirius said, reaching into his pocket.
He pulled out a few galleons and handed them to the bartender.
“I know my parents treat you well, but, you know. Thank you.”
You were surprised at how genuine his thanks sounded. Tom just smiled and walked away.
“Anyways, Sprout will talk to you more about jobs at some point. All muggleborns end up okay. I suppose if you wanted, you could try something in the muggle world,” Sirius said, resuming your conversation.
“Ah, I won’t be going back to the muggle world as an adult. It was home at one point, but now… not so much.” You paused. “Any idea what you’ll do?”
“Assuming I get a job, something for the ministry most likely. Could be an auror or field curse breaker. Keep tabs on people. I don’t see myself as a pencil pusher or a retail specialist,” he laughed. “Maybe I’ll just live off some mix of Black and Potter fortune.”
“Black and Potter?”
“Well, obviously I’m going to live with James.”
“Nice little bachelor pad dreams, got it.”
“You and Lily would be welcome any time!”
“Not sure you’d ever get Lily to step foot in there. Especially if James is home.” It was nice that Sirius was inviting you to his future bachelor pad, even if it was just as a friend.
“Unless he wears her down eventually.”
You laughed. You looked over at the bar and saw Tom smiling and shaking his head. You supposed it did look like you were on a real date, especially as dressed up as you were. And it kind of was, the after-party drinks. You were also still fake dating, according to Sirius. So really, there was no harm in it looking like a date.
“What Remus and Peter?”
“Neighbors. Can’t keep us apart. And, that way, we can throw the biggest parties. You know, just combine everything!”
“Why not live together then? All four of you.”
“Peter has horrible taste in furniture.”
“You know that… how?”
“I just know.” He took a sip.
By the time you were finishing your mugs, both of you were yawning. Sirius thanked Tom again before heading up to the room. He seemed to know which one it was. You were beginning to feel uneasy about spending the night with Sirius and the fact that your parents had no clue where you were. To make things even worse, when Sirius opened the door, there was only one bed.
Sirius immediately sensed your discomfort. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll sleep on the chair.”
Thankfully, Tom left pajamas for both of you on the bed. You’re glad to have something to sleep in other than your dress. Sirius tried to get comfortable on the chair, leaning back in it, as you crawled under the thin blanket.
“Goodnight Sirius.”
“Goodnight sweetness.”
You would’ve glared at him or retorted with something semi-snarky if you weren’t feeling so tired. Tired yet your mind was spinning and replaying moments from tonight. Mainly kissing him behind the tree.
It felt like an hour had passed and you’ve been unable to fall asleep. The room is cold and the blanket is too thin to keep you remotely warm. You pursed your lips at the idea that popped into your head.
“Sirius?” you asked softly, not wanting to wake him up if he had somehow managed to fall asleep.
“Yeah?” His voice sounded rough, probably from being tired, but he was awake.
Embarrassment coursed through your veins as you said, “I’m cold.”
There’s a noise that tells you Sirius sat up in the chair.
“Do you want…” Sirius’ voice trailed off. He didn’t want to sound too eager.
“If you’d be comfortable with it,” you said, trying not to sound desperate for warmth that you knew he’d bring.
You heard him get up and cross the room to the bed. The bed dipped down as he sat on the edge. There's a brief moment of more cold when Sirius lifted the blanket for himself. When he laid down, you snuggled into his side, relishing in his body heat.
“Is this okay?” you asked softly.
He hummed affirmatively. He brought an arm around you to hold you against him. He radiated so much heat. Within seconds, you were warm enough to fall asleep. Plus, his heartbeat was soothing.
In the morning, you and Sirius were quiet. You gathered your things and had breakfast downstairs. Sirius summoned the Knight Bus and you gave the conductor a location a few blocks away from your home.
“Oh, I have your gift!” Sirius said as you walked closer to your street.
He shoved his arm into his coat pocket, farther than he should have been able to. He produced a nicely wrapped box and handed it to you.
“Large box for a scarf,” you said with a smile. “And I still feel bad that I don’t have a present for you.”
“And I told you that this has been gift enough. Don’t worry about me, love.”
Sirius pressed a kiss to your cheek before you turned up the path to your house. He then turned back to walk the way you came.
When you opened the front door, you were met with your father’s voice.
“There you are! Where the hell did you and that boyfriend of yours go to?” he yelled.
“Took a bus into town.” Just casually leaving out most of the details.
“And he didn’t walk you to the door?”
“Drop it. I’m safe. I’ll be out of your hair in a week.”
“You’re grounded until you go back. And then when you come back in the summer. You can’t just go off with your boyfriend. Especially without telling your mother or me where you’re going. Or you know, asking if you can! You are our responsibility. Do not forget that.”
“Yeah. I got it.”
You went to your room and changed into new clothes. You sat on your bed. You turned over the box from Sirius in your hands a few times before unwrapping it. It was more than the scarf you were expecting. In addition to the scarf, Sirius had given you a hat, mittens and a sweater. Everything was in Hufflepuff colors and the scarf had an embroidered badger on its front. It felt like too much. It wasn’t a real relationship and he just gave you so much. And you had given him nothing.
You thought that would be the end of it. You thought Sirius would be done with you now. The party was done. He’d gotten out of the house and pissed off his parents. The deal was done.
Then his owl was at the kitchen window again. He told you that his parents were reasonably upset that he had disappeared for a night, although he is certain that they didn’t know he was gone until he came in the front door. He got into a fight with Regulus over something stupid. And he asked if you’d want to meet up again before going back to school. You had to respond that you were grounded, meaning you weren’t allowed to leave the house. The invite was expected but appreciated nonetheless. Maybe a friendship with him would remain now that the fake relationship was over.
He wrote to you every other day. He updated you on what James, Remus and Peter were all getting up to with their respective families. He told you about the mundane happenings around his house and everything that Kreacher was doing to spite him. You told him everything that Claire and your parents were doing. It was a boring existence.
You had never been happier to go back to Hogwarts. You barely said bye to your family when they dropped you off at King’s Cross station. You didn’t look for Sirius on the platform. You figured it would be better to put a little bit of distance between you, especially since you had forgotten to talk to him about your “break up.”
However, Sirius found you.
“Sweetness!” he called.
You froze where you stood. “Hi.”
“Ready to go back to school?” he asked, pulling you into a hug.
He noticed you were tense but attributed it to having been with your family. You returned his hug but only slightly.
“Yeah. Anything’s better than home.”
“If that isn’t the truth.” He laughed. “The boys are just over there, if you want to say hi.”
“I’m going to ride with Emmeline,” you said uncomfortably. Talking to Sirius about your fake relationship didn’t feel right when he was treating you so nicely.
“Oh, okay. I’ll see you later then?”
You nodded, giving him a tight-lipped smile. He pulled you in for another hug and leaned in to kiss you, but you pulled away. He frowned. You boarded the train as quickly as you could. You needed to get away from him.
He tried to kiss you.
The relationship was supposed to be over and here he was still putting on a show. You needed space. You found Emmeline sitting with some of her Ravenclaw friends. They didn’t seem to mind that you invited yourself in.
Sirius was far more quiet than usual on the ride. The boys didn’t ask him about it. Being quiet normally meant that something had happened at home and Sirius never wanted to talk about it. Except nothing had happened with his family. At least, nothing more than usual or to be expected. He was upset that you pulled away from a kiss.
You were actively avoiding Sirius as best as you could. Emmeline asked if something happened with him since you were back to being glued to her side. You told her that you didn’t want to talk about it. She didn’t press you.
Sirius caught on that you were avoiding him. When he tried to talk to you in the library, you shoved everything you had haphazardly into your bag and hurried away. You sat as far away from him as you could during classes. You were either clinging to Emmeline or hiding in your dorm. Sirius couldn’t get you alone.
So Sirius did what he had to do. He asked Emmeline to tell you to meet her outside the bell tower so that he could talk to you. She agreed to it, mostly because she didn’t know what was wrong and you both seemed genuinely so upset. What she did know was that you two needed to sort things out.
You shivered as you leaned against the wall ledge, waiting for Emmeline to show up. You were wearing the scarf, mittens and hat that Sirius had gifted you. You hugged yourself, mentally swearing at your friend for requesting that you meet up outside.
“Putting my gift to use. That’s nice to see.”
You squeezed your eyes shut. Sirius. It had been just over a week, and it still hurt to remember that your relationship, although fake, was over.
“It was a bit more than a scarf,” you said in a monotonous voice. No emotion was better than what you were really feeling.
“Well, I thought you’d maybe want to rep your house while wearing my scarf… You still have it, right?” he asked, leaning against the wall.
“Yeah, I do. Erm, it’s in my trunk if you want it back…” You bit the inside of your lip.
When you finally turned your head to look at Sirius, you saw a pained, sad look in his eyes. It made something twinge in your chest. Why was he looking at you like that?
“Why would I want it back?” he asked. You could hear the sadness from his eyes in his voice.
“Because it’s yours?”
“I mean, it is, but you’re my girlfriend. And girlfriends wear their boyfriends’ scarves.” He paused, fidgeting with his hands slightly. “Unless you want something else? I have gloves, they have the Black emblem on them, but they are still nice. Um, I have some nice sweaters? Most are Gryffindor, but I have a few plain ones if you don’t want to wear that much from a different house.”
“Sirius?”
He gave you a puppy-dog look that made you want to cry. The conversation you were avoiding needed to happen because somehow he hadn’t figured out that it really was over. The deal had ended.
“We’re not… dating?”
He didn’t respond, and you couldn’t quite read the new expression on his face.
“You know, since we went to the party? And you sufficiently pissed off your parents? So our deal… it’s done?”
Then Sirius moved quickly. He kissed you. Warm hands cupped your cold, rosy cheeks. He didn’t let go of your face when he pulled away, but you brought your hands up to rest on top of his.
“I…” he started to say.
Then he kissed you again and you melted into him. You couldn’t help it. He pulled back again and searched your eyes for something.
“I’m not ready for it to be over. I don’t want it to be. And, damn, I don’t want it to be fake. I want to keep being your boyfriend and I want you to know that it’s real. I… I really like you.”
“You don’t-” you started to say.
“I like you. I don’t care about my parents. I don’t care about Regulus. Or Mary. Or gossip. I like you. I like spending time with you. I like talking with you. I like studying with you. I like sitting in the quidditch stands with you. I like you more than I thought I would. And, I know it was just for a night, but I’d love to be your perfect guy for as long as you’ll let me.”
You stared at him for a moment.
And then you kissed him, moving your hands from on top of his on your face to his cheeks.
“I’ll wear your scarf,” is what you said when you pulled back from Sirius. You took a deep breath. “I thought you were still pretending. That’s why I was avoiding you.”
“But you won’t avoid me anymore?”
“How will I get one of those sweaters if I’m avoiding you?”
pairing :: james potter x fem!reader (implied girly!reader)
warnings :: mentions of getting laid (no smut), fluff!! please mind that english isn’t my first language. 1.5k words
james was truly smitten. he couldn’t not ogle at you at any given moment, heart eyes following you around every single room or corridor, sighs of pure admiration leaving his lungs whenever you would talk to him at breakfast or lunch while his head rested on his hand, dreamy eyes trying to catch yours.
but who was to blame him? you were just so pretty, your hair swaying lightly as you rushed to class, your hand accidentally brushing his as you stepped past him.
„why the rush, darling?“ he asked, keeping up with your pace as well as he could, still tired from last night which had lasted longer than it should’ve; peter, remus, sirius and him too busy sneaking around the castle and setting up shenanigans to sleep. at least there wasn’t ever a single day of boredom with them in the castle.
butterflies erupted in your stomach at the nickname, but you tried to suppress it the best you could. he managed to fluster you with his little pet names everytime without exception, and every yet so small sliver of hope you would get from them, you’d kill off. you’d go mad, otherwise.
„i’m hurrying to class james,“ you smiled at him, „and i think you should be too.“, grabbing his arm to pull him with you. you couldn’t see the way he blushed at your action, and he was glad. it was embarrassing how in love with you he was, considering the amount of attention other boys were giving you.
he could understand, obviously. it was already hard to not fall for your looks, but the fact your bubbly and inviting personality was just as perfect? how could anybody not fall for that? he was sure the sole reason remus and sirius saw you as only a friend was because they knew how enamored with you he was.
but you didn’t know. „he’s just a very sweet and nice person“ was what you said to lily when she asked you about it. you liked him, no question. but you saw the way he would flirt with other girls at parties and in hogsmead, occasionally winking at them even though lily and you were walking just next to him. so to you, he was just a friend, even though you would easily smother him in kisses if he ever just bought you flowers or opened doors for only you like the other stupid guys always did, not only as a friendly gesture but as something more.
you realized he wouldn’t, so there was no point in waiting for him. instead, while he was busy chatting with different girls at parties, you were seated in a quiet corner, talking to your girlfriends and having a drink or two yourself, dancing with guys here and there if they asked you nicely and sometimes, if they were being very polite, you’d give them a tiny kiss on the cheek and a little wave before getting another butterbeer and walking back to your friends once again.
that was probably what made you so irresistible, the fact you would never go as far as even giving a little peck on the lips while other girls were ready to go back to the dorm with said guys. you weren’t one to judge, neither the girls nor the boys, they could do whatever they want, it wasn’t your business. and if they wanted to get laid and got the chance, why not do it? just not with you.
however, they thought you were playing hard to get on purpose, and who wouldn’t be up for a challenge when it’s about a girl like you?
but even when every guys’ head turned to look at you whenever you entered the room, you didn’t care. you didn’t even notice, you were just living in the moment, deeply into the meaningful - or sometimes meaningless - banter with your friends, not a single care in the world.
well, for some reason one nerve of yours always got very terribly struck whenever you would lift your head only to see james‘ hand steadied on some other gryffindor‘s back. „whatever“ was what you always thought, head turning back to whoever was talking right now.
and it didn’t take long for james to leave your mind, at least until you were laid down on your bed at three in the morning where james would haunt your mind in ways you wouldn’t dare to say out loud.
„you got a date for the party today yet?“ he asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as he possibly could. „i prefer to go with my friends, as you already know.“
„well, we are friends, no?“
„class starts in a few, we can talk later.“ you said to him, avoiding his eyes as you made your way over to lily who was already sitting at your usual place in the charm‘s classroom, her hands immediately going to fix the little ribbon in your hair when you sat down to her right. she must’ve seen that you were in a rush just a few seconds ago, and the confused look on your face didn’t go unnoticed either. „what’s up with you, you look-“
„james just asked me on a ‚date‘, i think“ you stated, but it came out rather like a question while you knitted your eyebrows in a puzzled manner.
„well, i told you before he has a thing for you“
„but i don’t believe it“
„why not? it’s basically written on his face that he’s head over heels for you“
you were just about to reply, a look of disapproval already plastered on your face, but got interrupted by the professor. after the lesson the topic was already forgotten, lily and you talking about what you were going to wear tonight rather than the, to you very ridiculous, james situation.
it wasn’t until the party, which you attended hand in hand with lily, that james and you began to talk again. you were just about to get yourself another firewhiskey shot when he appeared right next to you at the small bar counter.
„how come you always reject when you get asked out?“
the question caught you off guard. he wasn’t the first to ask you that question, but you’ve never felt so called out after someone interrogated like that. your eyes widened slightly and you nervously bit your lip. what were you supposed to answer? „i realized i don’t have a chance with you so i gave up on relationships completely“?
„i just don’t want to date someone i don’t like like that, i guess.”
it wasn’t a lie, after all. you could just simply wait until the feelings faded, and then maybe you would be open for something new. until then, you would just have to keep on pretending like your feelings towards him did not exist.
„i suppose you don’t like me, then?“
„what?“
„you rejected me too today, didn’t you?“
you were startled by his questions, and suddenly it felt like it was just you two in this actually very crowded common room, the air around you feeling tighter and more stifling than usual.
„do you like me, james? like, like-like me? because everybody’s been telling me but i feel like i’m going crazy because i like-like you but you keep flirting with other girls and you wink and wave at them and you put your arms around them and i hate that but i don’t want things between us to be weird because i don’t want to lose you as a friend eith-“ you stumbled over your words in hurry, every nerve of yours spinning and pulling and you could feel your own face heat up.
“you like me?”
“i- uh- i asked first!” your heard was racing and you hoped to merlin that he felt the same way and you didn’t just make a fool out of yourself, confessing to a guy who doesn’t even see you like that.
he didn’t exactly answer the question, but he showed you.
his eyes were full of appreciation as he leaned down to you, gently caressing your face as he pressed his lips against yours. and finally, you felt at peace with your own feelings. your lips continued to move in sync until you heard a few claps behind you which broke you apart. when you turned around, you found sirius winking at you and lily eyeing you with a proud look on her face.
it was only when you faced james again that you saw the way he actually looked at you all this time, with his head resting on his hand, dreamy eyes trying to catch yours.
