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Oooh with that new arranged marriage as you just posted, what if someone says something really disparaging to reader about being an outsider in her own kingdom and then in her own marriage, and reader suddenly starts reading james’a interactions with Remus and Sirius differently and she feels really bad, buttt in the meantime the marauders have grown fond of her so they’re not too happy when she starts pulling away?

Thank you for your request dusts <3

cw: muggle au, arranged marriage, hurt with no comfort (yet)

poly!marauders x princess!reader ♡ 1.8k words

James makes you smile. It makes sense that he would—he’s sweet, funny, handsome enough to frighten butterflies into flight in your stomach—but it almost alarms you how true it is. Half the time you’re with him you’re giggling like a schoolgirl at every other word from his mouth. Being asked to leave the castle grounds so that the media can get photos of James showing you about your new kingdom should feel like a chore. Your smile should feel phony, the act of holding your fiancee’s hand forced and awkward, but after an afternoon of touring all of James’ favorite haunts your cheeks ache with genuine happiness.

“Of all the people who should be getting free drinks.” James shakes his head, taking another sip of his apple cider. He hasn’t let go of your hand even though you’re back inside the castle, and despite the forecast you’d noted before leaving this morning you haven’t felt the chill so long as he’s been touching you.

“I know.” You sigh, blowing some steam off your own drink. “I feel kind of bad for taking this.”

“Wha—hey, I wasn’t talking about you. You’re different.”

You grin up at him. (See? It’s impossible to stop.) “How am I different?”

“Well, you’re a girl.”

“Mhm, and?”

“Pretty girls always get free stuff.” You come to a stop in front of James’ room, his shrug casual as your hands swing between you. “They wouldn’t have to know who you were.”

A warmth spreads from your chest, washing over your face and down your arms. You wonder if James can feel it tingling in your fingertips. “I’ll see you later?” you ask softly.

James smiles. “Yeah, I’ve just got a couple of things to handle first. I’ll come find you, yeah? For dinner?”

“Sounds great.” Your answering smile is irrepressible. He gives your hand a squeeze before letting go, slipping into his room.

It’s difficult, not to collapse against the closed door with a sigh like a lovesick girl in a film. You’ve no doubt that to anyone watching you give the general impression anyway, huge smile still stuck to your face and hearts in your eyes.

You hear Sirius’ voice from inside James’ room. You’re sure Remus is in there as well, his presence only less audible than Sirius’. You suspect they’re James’ couple of things to handle. You don’t mind; James likes to have at least some time alone with his friends each day, and you wouldn’t begrudge him it. It’s sweet. Honestly, it only endears you to James more that he has such close friends, friends which go all the way back to childhood and whom he clearly loves fiercely. You’re glad you’re getting to know them as well—not only because Remus and Sirius are nice to be around, but you don’t imagine it can be a bad thing to get along with your partner’s friends. Sirius seemed to have some trouble getting used to you, but you think you might be finally moving past that; if you’re lucky, you could all be quite happy once you and James are married.

You meander the halls a bit on your way back to your room, still buzzing with a restless, giddy energy, a throat-squeezing feeling of possibility. It’s as you pass the open doorway of an office that you hear your name.

“...see how he was holding her hand? It’s cruel.”

You stop on the other side of the door. You don’t grow up in a palace without developing a healthy proclivity for eavesdropping; if people in Gryffindor are talking about you, you want to know what they’re saying.

“They’re engaged.” That’s Lily’s voice, matter-of-fact. “Holding hands is part of the deal.”

“It is when it’s for the cameras.” You recognize Mary’s cadence now, too.

“You know James. He’s touchy with everyone.”

“Exactly, but she doesn’t know that,” Mary argues. She sounds the tiniest bit upset. “James can—I know he’s only being friendly, he doesn’t mean to, but he can flirt without having any idea he’s doing it. She’s going to get the wrong idea.”

Your stomach quiets. You can’t tell if the butterflies you’ve been feeling all afternoon have frozen in place or fallen dead.

“I know.” Lily’s voice is a murmur. “I know, but what do you want him to do? I’m sure he wants to tell her everything, but Remus and Sirius will know better than to trust her yet. She’s only been here a couple of weeks. If they tell her and she calls off the wedding, how would that look for Gryffindor? Or if she tells anyone else?”

Mary sighs.

“He’s the prince,” Lily says gently. “He has to consider the whole kingdom, and we can’t afford for this to get out. Not everyone is ready for…for…”

“For their king to be in a gay polycule?”

You choke on air.

“It’s not like it would be the first time,” Mary offers.

“Allegedly,” Lily says, though there’s a hint of a smile in her tone.

Mary scoffs. “Right, allegedly.”

There’s a long pause. You hear the scrape of wood against the floor and imagine Lily scooting her chair closer to Mary, playing with the ends of the other girl’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “It does feel…well, it’s not ideal. Maybe I can talk to James about being a little less…James.”

Mary’s voice lowers. “I just feel bad for her. She left her home, her family didn’t even seem to hesitate about sending her away—forever—and now she’s an outsider in her own marriage.”

The barb of their pity stabs through you. Lily murmurs something in response, but you don’t stick around to hear it. You’re done being gossiped about for the day.

You’re moving so quickly, you walk past the hallway to your room twice before finding it. There’s something warm and sour curdling in your gut, and you’re—you don’t know what you are. Hurt, indignant, nauseous. You feel like an idiot.

It all seems so transparent now. Horrifyingly, glaringly obvious. Remus’ hand on James’ knee when his bouncing was shaking the table. The private look on Sirius’ face when James fished a leaf out of his hair. How comfortable they all are with each other, touching and joking and speaking in a language you hoped—foolishly—you might one day crack. But it’s not meant to be shared with you.

You’ve thought, once or twice, that James hasn’t seemed as nervous as you are when you spend time together. Not since that first day. You told yourself it was part of his personality—he’s a confident man, not the sort to trip over his own feet when he likes someone, you shouldn’t read into it—but now, of course, this makes sense. None of this is real to him. The performance is as much for you as it is for the cameras, meant to keep you happy and incurious.

You would never have gone along with it if you’d known. It’s no wonder Sirius hasn’t been friendly to you; you’re encroaching on his relationship. On all of theirs. You’ve flirted with James in front of all of Remus and Sirius, planned dates, talked about your wedding. You wouldn’t have—god, you’re not trying to stand in the way of what they have. Even when you thought they were only friends, their love for each other was so obvious they couldn’t hope to mask it. You would never want to get in the way of that. You don’t want to do this to them.

But just as the acidic tang of guilt rises in your throat, another force shoves against it. You aren’t doing this to them. Every part you’ve played in this has been against your will. If you’d gone into this arrangement with your eyes open, you could have done things completely differently. Only you hadn’t been given that choice.

You don’t think James hates you. Remus might not, either. But whatever progress you’ve made with each of them seems pointless now. The impression you had upon first entering Gryffindor has never felt more true. No one wants you here. They never did.

You’re every bit the girl in a film now, laying on your bed letting tears slip down to wet the pillow. You register the cliche and do nothing about it.

You don’t know what to do. You can’t go home. Riddle is at Peleria’s doorstep. Even if you could get the King and Queen to commit Gryffindor’s armies without going through with the marriage, Lily is right; it would look bad for both of you to call it off now. You have to marry James. It’s all that’s been asked of you. It’s all you can offer your family, your kingdom. You can’t go home.

Gryffindor was supposed to be your new home.

A soft knock on your door summons you from the smog of your self-pity. You sniffle, scrubbing mostly dried tears from under your eyes and checking your reflection in the mirror before saying, “Yes?”

Remus pokes his head in. The sight of him makes your chest hurt—the slight uptilt to his mouth, the kindness of it. You wonder if this whole time, he’s only been kind to you out of sympathy. “Sirius is jealous that you and James got to spend all day in town,” he says. “He wants to go out for dinner. Are you ready?”

“Um.” Your voice comes out rough, and you clear your throat. “I’m a bit tired, actually. You guys go ahead.”

Remus’ almost-smile fades. “If you’re tired, we can eat here.”

“That’s okay.”

“Sirius doesn’t always have to get his way,” he says wryly. “It’ll be good for him.”

“I think I’m just going to…” You give your pillow a lame pat. “...go to bed.”

You don’t look out the window, at the sun hardly beginning to set; neither does Remus. His brows furrow, and you fuss with your comforter so as not to meet his eyes. Too clever, too discerning.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Hm?”

“You sound a bit hoarse.”

“Oh.” You press your lips into a smile. “I think it’s just the weather.”

He makes a soft hum. “I’ll have someone bring you a tea. We’ll see you tomorrow, then?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, lying back down. “Thanks.”

The door clicks shut behind him. A wave of feeling washes over you—silly, feeling abandoned when you’ve asked to be left behind. A couple more tears squeeze from your eyes nonetheless. They trace meandering paths down your face, the wetness cooling in their wake.

You wonder if this is how your life will be. Going out in front of cameras with James, smiling, holding hands, then delivering him to his true partners so you can return to your room. Alone. This arrangement isn’t what you thought it was, but you can play the part. For Gryffindor and for Peleria, for James and Sirius and Remus, you can.

You hope they’re enjoying their night without you.

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