summary: sirius is jealous when he becomes the last of your boyfriends to receive an affectionate pet name
ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ content: final year of hogwarts, fluff, hurt/comfort, jealous!sirius, sirius-centric imagine, kisses, happy ending
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Sirius wasn’t sure if he had the right to be pissed off at you, but he was.
At first, it was okay. The entire situation had felt like an inside joke between him and James. When you’d created a pet name for Remus, the other two boys had laughed about their shared jealousy. James had teasingly congratulated Remus when you had left, who was more bashful than either of them had ever seen him. Every time you called Remus honey, a knowing glance was shared between the pair.
Remus wasn’t oblivious to their anticipation. He noticed the way their eyes widened whenever they heard the pet name fall softly from your lips, or how their necks would snap in your direction, as if hoping you would be looking at one of them rather than him.
After three weeks, James acknowledged it.
“What made you start calling Remus that, love?” James asked you late one evening, the four of you huddled around the Gryffindor common room, each wrapped up in your own tasks.
You glanced up from your crochet needles, the crease between your brows deepening. You hummed as if to get James to repeat himself, sticking one finger in the guide you’re following, but then you realised what he was asking you and you exhaled amusedly.
“Because it suits him,” you smiled with a shrug.
Before you could return to your attempted crochet, Remus wrapped an arm around you and kissed the side of your head hard. You giggled and leaned into him, nuzzling your back into his side. Despite the twinge of jealousy, Sirius’ heart melted at the sight of you both. He wished that he were small enough to fit in the tiny gap between your bodies.
“So, if honey suits Moony, what do we suit, then?” James brought it up a few days later when they were in Potions class. You were working with Remus a few stations away, the two of you quietly chatting to one another as you expertly got on with the work Slughorn had assigned.
Sirius was slightly startled by the question and paused from chopping his crow claw. “I’m definitely going to get darling.”
James snorted. “Right.”
Sirius shot him a look. “Why is it that Moony, who turns into a ten-foot beast every full moon, can be suited to honey, but I am unable to achieve darling status? Beautiful, doting old me? Am I not good enough? Not darling enough?”
James laughed harder and shoved Sirius with his elbow. They heard the sound of something dropping in liquid, and Sirius cursed when his cauldron started to make a hissing sound.
“You made me drop the rest of the crow claw! That was way too much, you bastard!” Sirius huffed, but he was half-laughing anyway.
“Fuck,” James hissed worriedly, and his eyes landed on Barty Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier’s unattended cauldron. Slughorn was drawing closer. They could hear him praising yours and Remus’ work.
They both shared a knowing look as Sirius darted for the other cauldron, and that was the end of their previous conversation.
Sirius figured that if he was going to be in a bit of pain, at least James was in it with him. They did like to do everything together, after all. It had been well over a month since Remus had adopted his new title, and no matter how much he told them to just tell you how they felt, Sirius couldn’t.
He was fully aware that it was pathetic to want a pet name so badly that it sometimes hurt to hear you call Remus by anything other than his birth-given name. Besides, he wanted you to come up with one for him naturally, as you had done for Remus.
He attempted to call you pet names even more, just to see if that would jog you along a little bit. It didn’t work. You smiled when he called you baby, but you wouldn’t say the word back. You hadn’t given him a variation of it.
James called him out for being a sneak, but Sirius reckoned that James didn’t care as much as he did. James wanted a nickname from you, of course he did, but Sirius doubted it was making James as antsy as it was him. James had always been a better sport than Sirius was. You’d think he was the one who had grown up with siblings, and that Sirius had been the only child, with how spoiled he acted.
It was a rainy Tuesday when James became your second boyfriend to gain a pet name, and Sirius became the last man standing.
Hogwarts’ library had a busy thrum buzzing through it, students everywhere preparing for their end-of-year exams, and Sirius could have bet exactly where he would find you and Remus. James had one arm tucked around his broom, his hair damp from sweat and rain during his Quidditch practice, his other large hand on Sirius’ back, gently and subtly guiding him over to where he had seen you and Remus.
You were sitting on one of the huge armchairs by the fire, in the very corner of the library. With a leg chucked over Remus’ thigh, your head was buried in a book, whilst Remus’ was tilted back against the sofa, his jumper-clad arms extended above his face, holding a notebook that he circled things in with a Muggle pen.
Sirius nearly broke out into a grin at the sight of you two. James sped up, and quickly, they chucked their things down in the middle of the table. You shrieked, shooting James a scalding look when his broom landed on some of your parchment at the edge of the table.
“James!” You complained and gritted your teeth when you were hushed by someone further down the aisles. “Did you not see my work right there? It’s all soggy now!”
James’ face became the image of panic, his brows tugging together, his bottom lip jutting out—not even on purpose in the same way Sirius does to make people feel guilty—James was apparently just naturally that sweet.
“Oh, fuck!” He muttered, and he yanked his broom back, beating your hands to the work that was now smudged and dripping muddy water.
“What made you think it was a good idea to put your dirty broom on the table anyway, Prongs?” Remus raised a brow, eyeing the stained wood.
“Sorry, Y/N. Sorry, Remus,” James muttered, and he shook the pages, but it only made the bottom tear away. “Shit! Right, I’ll fix this. Don’t worry, love. I’ll have it all rewritten before—when is it due?”
You sent him a warm smile, one that suggested that you could never be properly angry at him, and cooed, leaning forward. You grasped his face in your hand and kissed his lips carefully.
“It’s due first lesson tomorrow, darling,” you told him gently.
James swallowed, and you thought he was just worried about the deadline, but his face tinged pink, and he turned away from you quickly, shooting Sirius a look. Sirius’ eyes were like saucers, his mouth falling open slightly. His gaze flickered between you and James, and his head kept repeating your soft tone: darling, darling, darling.
It took everything to make sure his face didn’t show how he felt. He even reached up to gently brush his own cheek, just to be sure he wasn’t glaring. His hands dropped by his sides, but then he wasn’t sure what to do with them, and it felt like he was taking up far too much room without even existing at all.
James could read exactly what Sirius is thinking. His top teeth bit down on his bottom lip, torn between saying something and trying to let it go. Sirius gripped the bag on his shoulder tighter, his knuckles growing white.
“I don’t feel like hanging around while you lot do homework,” Sirius said. “Have fun. I’m going to go and see what Pete’s up to.”
“Oh, alright. I think I saw him in the common room, Sirius. He was with that Hufflepuff girl,” you told him with a small smile
He gritted his teeth with a false smile of his own. “Great. I’ll go and see Pete and the Hufflepuff.”
Sirius spent the rest of his evening in his bunk, the curtains drawn and his head against his pillow. His arms were folded against his chest, the crease between his brow never fading for a second. He’d changed into his pyjamas—a black vest and some plaid pyjama trousers—and tried to go to sleep, but he couldn’t stop thinking about the three of you down in the library, most likely studying and laughing and having pet names for one another. He wished he didn’t care so much. He wasn’t sure why he did.
Of course, he would be the last one to get a pet name! Sirius began to wonder if he would ever get one. Perhaps you didn’t think fondly enough of him, or maybe he didn’t suit any of the sweet ones, like honey or darling. He wished he were one of the other boys, bathing in your affection, feeling so incredibly special.
There was a rustle against his curtain, and your head stuck through moments later.
“Why are you lying above your covers?” You asked him, though there was hardly a hint of judgment in your tone.
Sirius huffed through his nose. “Too lazy to get in.”
You laughed, your face brightening. “Room for one more?” You asked, but you didn’t wait for his answer, your knee nearly colliding with his thigh before he moved it out of the way at expert speed.
“Not really,” Sirius chuckled, but his arm extended to you anyway, and you climbed in against his chest, half lying on his body. His hair tickled your forehead. “You smell nice.”
You beamed up at him. “Thanks. I had to go and finish some bits in the greenhouse for Herbology. I think it’s lavender—something fell on me, anyway."
Sirius stroked your arm. In return, you traced one of the tattoos he had gotten over the Christmas holidays. Each time you saw it, you couldn’t help but grin, thinking about the look on Professor McGonagall’s face when she had seen it for the first time. It was even better when Sirius had proudly told her that he planned on getting more and more.
“Love this tattoo,” you murmured, your finger following the outline of the moth on his right bicep.
Sirius quirked an eyebrow. “Really? You told me I’d regret it.”
“Well, you do hate moths,” you reminded him. “But it’s a pretty tattoo. Suits you, Pads.”
“Pretty,” he scoffed. “My tattoos are not supposed to be pretty.”
“Everything’s pretty when it’s on you, baby,” you murmured to him, stroking up and down his chest, and he became scared you would hear the way his heart stammered in his chest, completely missing several beats before pounding harder than it ever had before.
The last time he felt this giddy was when the four of you had started your relationship. Months of dying to hear a pet name come from your mouth, and you’d finally picked one for him. An endearing term that was created specifically for him. Something you would call only him, and something he’d only let you call him.
“Baby?” He croaked.
You reached up and played with the curls in his hair. “My baby,” you confirmed, and kissed his jaw.
It only took Sirius a few seconds to recover and flip you so that you were beneath him. Your screeching laughs filled the room as he kissed you all over—your face, your neck, your hair, your shoulders.
“Sirius!” You laughed. “That tickles!”
“Say it again!” He demanded with a laugh. “Say it, Y/N!”
“Baby!” You wheezed, and your laughter dimmed when he chucked himself hard against you, nuzzling his face right in between your neck and shoulder.
The curtain opens, and Sirius grins up at Remus and James, who look equal parts amused and concerned.
“It finally happened?” James asked.
“I don’t care if you told her,” Sirius grumbled into your skin. “My one is better than all of yours.”
You snorted. “You and James should have told me months ago you wanted me to call you something.”
James rolled his eyes. “Where’s the spontaneity in that?”
“You’re both pathetic,” Remus teased.
“Says the one who got his pet name first, you hypocrite!”
Sirius squeezed you tighter, not ready to share you yet. He felt awful for the one-sided annoyance he’d been surviving through, and the jealousy he’d felt every time Remus was called honey. It turned out, good things did come to people who waited. Sirius wasn’t sure how he’d survived eighteen years without hearing you call him baby before.
Now that you’d said it once, he’d need to hear it every single day.
synopsis: shifting for the first time to surprise your boyfriends leaves you a whirlwind of nerves, but with the guidance of your closest companions, you discover an animagus form that feels entirely, unexpectedly like you.
warnings: sweetheart!reader, r is shy and anxious, r is best friends with regulus and barty, animagus transformation, magic, snow, fluff, panic and anxiety, seasonal cold/snow, mild self-doubt, feelings of nervousness and vulnerability.
You stand nervously in the middle of the snow, your breath rising in small clouds as it meets the crisp winter air. Every nerve in your body feels alive, tingling with anticipation and fear.
Pandora and Regulus are both staring at you, their expressions calm but attentive, while you panic and spiral quietly to yourself.
Your thoughts feel heavy, though you are still very much yourself, very much human, in this moment.
“It is completely normal to feel nervous during your first transformation,” Pandora says gently, kneeling slightly in the snow to be closer to your level.
“Especially when you do not even know what your Animagus will be.”
You shake your head, panic prickling in your chest. “I… I don’t know if I can do this,” you admit, your voice trembling. Your hands fidget with the cuff of your sleeve. “What if I fail? What if I hurt myself?”
Regulus steps a little closer, his hands shoved into the pockets of his coat, his expression composed yet firm. “You will not hurt yourself,” he says, his voice low, carrying a quiet certainty. “I know you. You are careful, and precise. Even your first attempt will not be dangerous.”
Your eyes widen as worry twists in your stomach. “But what if my Animagus is dangerous? What if it is something wild or… I don’t know… something I cannot control?”
Regulus lets out a short, amused chuckle. “You are my best friend. You would not be capable of producing anything dangerous. And honestly, I would not be surprised if it turns out to be something completely harmless. Likea butterfly.”
You pout, shoulders tense, feeling a little relief at his attempt at humor but still trembling. “I don’t know how to transform. What if I just… cannot do it?”
Pandora opens her notebook carefully, the pages crisp against the cold air. “Don’t worry,” she says, flipping to the page she has marked.
“We will go through the instructions step by step. Focus on your breathing. Relax your muscles. Visualize the form you wish to take. Imagine every part of your body shifting, folding, and changing until it feels natural.”
Regulus crouches slightly beside you, watching you carefully, his dark eyes bright with encouragement.
“The first time I transformed,” he says, a faint grin tugging at his lips, “I became a cat. Tiny, soft, and like a black shadow. I hid under the couch for hours because I was terrified I would break something or scare someone. But I learned to control it. You will, too. It is just a matter of patience and practice.”
You bite your lip, your gaze dropping to the untouched snow beneath your feet. “It still feels… impossible.”
Pandora reaches out and gently rests a hand near your shoulder, careful not to startle you. “Nothing worth doing comes without some fear. It is natural. The important part is that you try. That you don’t give up on yourself before you even begin.”
Regulus leans a little closer, lowering his voice to something almost conspiratorial. “I will be right here watching and making sure nothing goes wrong. I promise. And if it does… well, we will handle it together.”
You take a deep breath, feeling the crisp winter air fill your lungs, and step carefully back onto the thin ice near the edge of the frozen stream. You pull your scarf tighter, though it is heavy and awkward against your suddenly smaller frame.
Pandora kneels a few steps away, her notebook still in her hands. She tilts her head slightly, watching you with gentle patience. “Remember the steps,” she says softly.
“Relax. Focus. Visualize. You have worked for months for this. You can do it.”
You tense your muscles, every fiber of your body trembling, and let the magic flow. It begins at your toes, a strange tickling warmth that moves up your legs.
The sensation is dizzying, surreal, like every bone and muscle is bending in impossible ways. Your heart pounds, and you stumble on the ice, flailing slightly before your hooves catch.
When the shift is over, you stare down. Your hooves press into the snow, delicate and firm. Your legs feel both fragile and alive. You take a small, tentative step and then another, testing balance and coordination.
The cold snow presses against your fur, sparkling on the tips of your coat.
You flick your ears nervously, eyes wide, and glance toward Pandora and Regulus.
Their reactions hit you like a shock. Pandora gasps softly. “Oh… my…” Her eyes are wide, full of awe.
Regulus steps closer, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, though his voice carries a quiet wonder. “Incredible,” he says, crouching slightly.
Your tail flicks nervously, and you back up a few steps toward the frozen stream. You pause at the edge and lower your head toward the ice, sniffing, trying to understand yourself in this body.
The reflection that stares back at you makes your chest tighten with disbelief. Small, wide eyes, soft brown fur, and delicate white spots across your back.
A little deer.
You paw at the snow, testing your legs, and take a careful step forward, then another, discovering the agility in your new form.
Pandora tilts her head, eyes widening with so much joy that she practically glows. Her breath bursts out in a delighted cloud as she claps both hands over her mouth.
“Oh my god, you are like a little fawn!” she squeals, bouncing on her toes as if she cannot contain the excitement. “Look at you! You are tiny and spotted and absolutely precious!”
She crouches down a little, leaning closer with shining eyes.
Regulus chuckles lightly, crouching so he is level with your eyes. “I would never have guessed, but it suits you.”
Your ears twitch at every sound—the whisper of the wind, the crunch of snow beneath Regulus’ boots, the distant caw of a bird.
A tiny, excited leap carries you forward, snow spraying around your hooves. Your movements are clumsy but joyful, and a little thrill of freedom surges through you.
Pandora claps her hands softly, and Regulus leans back, eyes bright with amusement and pride.
The snow, the forest, the cold, the magic;; it all feels like it is yours, in this moment, completely and beautifully yours.
The second you shift back into your human body, you stumble straight onto your knees in the snow. A rush of wild exhilaration bursts through your chest, so powerful you can barely breathe.
I did it!” you gasp, practically choking on your own smile. “I did it, I did it! Pandora, Regulus, did you see that?”
You don’t even wait for an answer. You throw yourself at Pandora so fast she lets out a startled squeal of laughter as she catches you.
“You did it, sweetheart!” she cries, gripping your shoulders and shaking you a little in excitement. “You were amazing! I knew you would get it!”
You shake with excitement and cling to her a moment longer before turning and launching yourself at Regulus.
He stands with his arms half-raised, pretending he is not expecting it, although his eyes soften the moment you collide with him.
“Regulus!” you gasp, grabbing the front of his coat and practically bouncing on your feet. “i was a deer—a real deer! with spots and hooves and everything!”
His arms come around you slowly, steady and grounding, as if he wants to hold onto your excitement without letting it overwhelm you. His voice is low, smooth, calm.
“I know,” he says. “I saw the entire thing.”
You pull back a little, cheeks flushed, breath quick. “Did I look strange? Did I look ridiculous?”
He tilts his head, meeting your worried gaze, and a small, almost imperceptible smile touches his lips. “No. You were amazing,” he says softly. “Even when if the transformation was a little sloppy, it was perfect. You handled it better than anyone could have expected.”
You cover your face with your hands, heart pounding, and he gently moves your fingers aside, brushing snow from your hair.
“But you were also adorable,” he adds quietly. “A very, very adorable deer.”
You couldn’t help but feel giddy on the inside at Regulus’s praise.
He may have been your best friend and closest companion, but it was rare for Regulus, of all people, to show any emotion at all—let alone let his pride seep through the cracks of his carefully maintained walls.
A word of praise from Reggie, meant the world to you. It made your chest feel lighter, your heart warmer, and every bit of hard work you’d poured into becoming an Animagus feel completely worth it.
Pandora laughs again, brushing snow off your sleeve. “You should be proud. What a beautiful Animagus form.”
Regulus steps back and lifts one eyebrow. “Well then. Off you go, amour. Go show your boyfriends before you burst from excitement.”
You gasp dramatically and clutch Pandora’s hands. “We have to go. I need to tell them right now.”
Pandora squeezes your hands with the same excitement. “Go. They will be thrilled.”
****
“James!” you call the moment you burst into the common room.
You don’t even wait for him to answer — you grab his wrist with both hands and start tugging. “Come on, come on, come on, I need to show you something!”
James barely has time to blink. “Merlin, love— what’s got into you?” He’s stumbling after you, curls bouncing, but he’s already smiling because you’re smiling.
“Sirius!” you call over your shoulder. “Remus! Get over here!”
A groan answers you from the couch. “It’s snowing,” Sirius complains, dramatically wrapping himself tighter in a blanket. “Do you know what snow does to my hair?”
“You’ll survive!” you say, breathless and glowing. “Please, Pads, it’s really— really— really important.”
Before Sirius can argue again, Remus appears from the hallway, book still in hand, scarf slung over his arm. He takes one look at you, practically vibrating with joy, and his whole expression softens.
He steps forward and gently cups your face with both cold hands. “Dovey,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your cheek, “take a breath. You’re shaking.”
“I know,” you say, grinning so hard your eyes crinkle. “I’m sorry— I just— it’s important, Moony.”
“No apologizing.” He smiles faintly. “Just slow down enough so we can keep up with you.”
“Right— right, okay,” you say, even though you’re still bouncing a little on your toes.
Sirius slinks over now, muttering under his breath, blanket still draped around him like a cape. “This better be worth frostbite.”
“It is,” you say, nearly squealing.
James squeezes your hand, brows raised in playful intrigue. “Are we going to pull a prank? Because if this is about causing some trouble, I’d like to mentally prepare first.”
“No! Well— no. Not this time.” You tug him closer. “It’s a surprise.”
Remus lets out a small, fond sigh and flicks his wand. Scarves whoosh out of his bag and wrap themselves neatly around each of your necks, warm as a cup of tea.
“If we’re going out,” he says, adjusting yours with gentle fingers, “we’re doing it without any of you getting sick.”
Sirius brightens immediately as the warmth hits him. “You should’ve led with the free winter gear,” he says, looping his scarf twice. “Very persuasive.”
“Alright,” James says, squeezing your shoulders, “where to, sweetheart?”
“Outside,” you say, practically glowing. “Hurry!”
Sirius opens the door with a flourish, snow drifting in on a soft, icy breeze.
You step into the center of the courtyard, breath puffing in front of you in little clouds. The boys stand a few feet away, bundled in their scarves, waiting.
But now that they’re actually here, watching you… your heart stutters. Nerves flutter in your stomach. You take a small step back.
Sirius tilts his head, a curious smile tugging on his lips.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he teases, “what is it you’re dying to show us?”
James laughs breathlessly. “Yeah, love, you’re scaring us a little.”
You swallow, nod once, inhale deeply—
And then you shift.
The world ripples around you, magic curling over your skin like warm light, and in a blink, you’re standing on four legs in the snow.
A small, soft deer with your fur dusted with flakes, breath steaming in the cold.
Three pairs of eyes widen dramatically.
For one perfect moment, silence.
Then—
James absolutely screams.
“Holy— Merlin’s scruffy stag— when— how— what—!”
James grabs Sirius’s arm, his eyes wide as if holding onto someone might help him process what he just saw.
Sirius stays frozen, mouth slightly open, completely still, like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Remus just blinks, taking a moment to register it all, his expression caught somewhere between shock and awe.
You stamp your little hooves impatiently, looking at them with wide, pleading eyes, as if to say, Well??
James is the first to find his voice, stumbling over words in his excitement.
“When did you even—how did you go through the Animagus process without us knowing— ”
You can’t help it. The thrill of it, the joy of finally revealing yourself, bubbles out uncontrollably, and you jump, bouncing in the snow, spinning and hopping with excitement.
And suddenly Remus breathes out a stunned laugh. “Oh, sweetheart— come here—”
You don’t even let him finish. You gallop straight toward him and tackle him into a soft drift of snow. He goes down with a yelp and then bursts into laughter, wrapping his arms around your warm neck.
“Okay— alright— alright— you’re heavy like this—” he wheezes, still grinning up at you. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”
You nuzzle his cheek before prancing away, hooves crunching through the fresh layer of snow.
James is already crouched, eyes wide with pure awe and giddy pride.
“Look at you!” he gushes, one hand reaching out carefully to stroke between your ears. “You’re perfect. D’you know that? Absolutely perfect.”
You lick his sleeve and he laughs like a little kid.
Then you turn to Sirius.
He hasn’t moved at all.
He’s standing like someone hit him with Petrificus Totalus, except his eyes are huge and soft and the tips of his ears are pink from the cold.
You trot up to him and blink up at him with wide doe eyes.
He inhales sharply. “Oh… oh no,” he whispers. “You’re— you’re literally the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He drops to his knees instantly, hands hovering like he’s afraid to break you.
“I have so many questions— so many— but I can’t think right now because your little face is attacking my soul.”
You poke his side with your velvety nose.
He giggles. “Oh, that’s illegal— don’t look at me like that— Bloody hell, you’re adorable—”
He finally wraps his arms around your neck, burying his face into your fur. “I’m never letting you be human again.”
You snort loudly, which makes him laugh even harder.
And then—
James shifts into his stag beside you, tall and magnificent, nudging your shoulder with a joyful snort.
Sirius rolls his eyes, stands up, and transforms in a smooth wave of magic — a huge black dog shaking snow from his fur.
You squeak (or… whatever the deer equivalent of a squeak is) and immediately bolt across the courtyard.
Prongs and Padfoot charge after you, hooves and paws thundering through the snow.
Remus stays human, arms crossed, scarf fluttering in the wind, laughing helplessly as you dart behind him for protection.
He places one steady hand on your back.
You press closer to Remus, hiding half behind him, peeking out just enough to flick your ears at the two troublemakers.
Remus laughs and pats your side.
“My brave girl,” he teases softly. “Hiding behind the man who can’t even shift.”
You nudge him indignantly.
Padfoot and Prongs are still waiting for another chase, but both of them stay where they are when Remus places one calming hand on your back.
“It’s alright,” he murmurs. “Take your time. Whenever you are ready.”
You close your eyes. The magic rises again, warm and familiar now, like sunlight curling through your limbs. Your shape shifts. Your hooves sink into the snow and dissolve. Your fur pulls inward. The world tilts once, gently, and then settles.
You are human again.
Your knees fold, and you collapse forward into Remus’s chest, breath coming out in a startled gasp.
His arms tighten instantly, closing around you with a fierceness that makes your heart swell.
Remus’s hand rests lightly on your back, his voice soft as he leans down. “You alright?”
You lift your head just enough to meet his gaze, still flushed and breathless, and nod. “Yeah.”
Then, with a little nervous grin, you stare up at him. “Soooo… what do you think?”
He lets out a quiet, fond chuckle, brushing a hand through your hair. “I think… you’re amazing.”
You peek up at him through the scarf, a little shy but still glowing with excitement. “You… really think so?”
“I do,” Remus says quietly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You were incredible. All of it. I’m proud of you.”
Your chest swells, and you can’t help the soft, delighted laugh that escapes you. “Thank you… I was so worried you’d think it was silly or—”
Before you can finish, a loud chorus breaks through the calm.
“There she is!” James cries, barreling through the snow toward you, his hair dusted with flakes, a grin plastered across his face.
“You have an unbelievable amount of explaining to do, darling,” he announces, although his voice is far too warm to be truly scolding.
You giggle and pull your scarf close, cheeks warm despite the cold. Remus keeps one arm wrapped firmly around you as if he refuses to let you go now that you are back in human form.
“I know,” you say, still breathless and glowing. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. I just… needed to be sure. I didn’t want to say anything until I knew it was real.”
James’ brows lift, but his eyes are nothing but warm. “So all of this… has been going on for a while, then?”
You nod, hands twisting together for a moment before you make yourself meet their eyes. “A little over a month. Pandora helped me with the theory — she’s brilliant, honestly — and she was so patient with me. Every single time I messed up, she just tried again with me.”
Sirius snorts softly, though his smile is fond. “Of course she did. Pandora Lovegood could teach a rock to dance if she felt like it.”
You laugh, cheeks warming. “And Regulus helped too with the practical pieces. Making sure I didn’t try anything too reckless. He’s… very steady. He kept me grounded.”
James hums under his breath, impressed. “So he knew before we did.”
“Only by an hour!” you say quickly, as if it matters. “Today was the first time anything actually worked. And as soon as it did, I ran straight here.”
That earns you three different smiles, all of them soft.
Sirius nudges your shoulder gently. “Good. Because seeing you turn into that little deer might be the cutest thing that has ever happened in my entire life.”
You hide your face in your hands for a second, which only makes James laugh and pull your hands back down so he can see you. “Hey,” he says softly, “none of that. We’re amazed. That’s all.”
Remus’ hand finds its place on your back, slow and steady, his touch radiating reassurance. “You did something incredibly difficult, love,” he murmurs. “And you did it beautifully.”
Your breath catches in your throat, not because of nerves this time, but because of how full your chest feels.
You end up pulled into all three of them at once, completely surrounded and impossibly warm despite the snow drifting around your boots.
James presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’m so proud of you.”
Remus tightens his hold just slightly, voice low against your ear. “We all are.”
Sirius rests his chin on your shoulder. “Our little Bambi,” he says with a grin you can hear.
You let out a tiny laugh, too flustered to hide it. “Bambi?”
James grins. “Well, we can’t exactly keep calling you dovey now that we know you’ve been prancing around the forest behind our backs.”
Remus leans in slightly, his breath warm against your temple. “So,” he murmurs, a subtle smile in his voice, “do you want us to stick with dovey… or should we be calling you Bambi now?”
Your cheeks warm immediately. You duck your head a little, trying not to smile too widely.
“I don’t know,” you say honestly, the words coming out softer than you intend. “Either one is fine.”
Sirius snorts lightly. “That’s not an answer.”
You laugh under your breath, nudging him with your shoulder. “I don’t have a preference,” you admit, eyes flicking between all three of them. “If it’s from you, I’ll like it.”
James’ smile softens, warm enough to melt the snow still clinging to your coat.
“Well then,” he murmurs, brushing a bit of snow from your hair, “come on, Bambi. Let’s get you inside before you freeze.”
idk if ur requests are open but could i request a sirius x reader who fight(playfully) ALL THE TIME, and its to the point that people think they dont even like each other but its actually the opposite
btw i love all ur ficss
Thank you for requesting lovely!
cw: domestic squabbling
a/n: Please do not misconstrue my participation in the marauders fandom as support of JKR. If you’re new here and want to participate in the fandom, I encourage you to do so without participating in anything that would provide financial gain to her or her transphobic agendas
Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 801 words
Sirius’ eyes are flinty, boring into you. “Tell the truth.”
“I am,” you say evenly. “I. Don’t. Care.”
He scoffs and crosses his arms. “You’re such a fucking liar.”
“Can you not curse at me in public?”
“Maybe once you stop being so stubborn.”
You glare at him. Between you, a dessert menu sits on the table. You’re both keeping away from it like it’d be a concession to touch.
“What about you?” You try to turn the argument around on your boyfriend. “I know you don’t want the apple crumble, because of your thing with warm fruit—”
“Warm fruit?” Lily asks. You’d nearly forgotten she was there. Only Sirius can wind you up so badly you forget to be conscious of the four other people at the table with you.
“He won’t eat any fruit that’s been warmed,” you explain to Lily. You side-eye Sirius and add, with disdain, “It’s a sickness.”
James and Regulus both nod to confirm this assessment.
Sirius spreads his hands in a show of benevolence. “If you want the apple crumble so badly, let’s get it.”
“No,” you insist, “the point is to get something we both like.”
You jolt a little as, under the table, Sirius hooks an ankle behind yours and tugs playfully. “Stubborn,” he teases.
“You’re stubborn.”
“What a creative deflection.”
You feel your features harden. “Fine. Whatever, let’s forget about dessert.”
Sirius makes a bewildered choking sound, like the mere suggestion is heresy. “Don’t bullshit me,” he says. “I know you want dessert. You were eyeing that menu all of dinner.”
“Well, now I don’t.”
“You absolute—”
“Why don’t you each get your own dessert?” interrupts Lily, clearly desperate for peace. You feel guilty at distressing her; you and Sirius’ bickering isn’t so severe as to warrant that. But you can’t think of a nice way to tell her that she doesn’t need to get involved.
Sirius, perhaps thinking the same thing, sighs laboriously. “We can’t,” he tells her.
“Why not?”
“Because, she won’t eat all of hers—”
“They’re big portions,” you defend yourself.
“—and then we’ll end up taking it home, where it will sit in the fridge, and she’ll say I can have it, even though she really wants it herself—”
“No, you could have it, but he always forgets about it—”
“—and then eventually it goes bad, which is somehow my fault.”
A twinge of genuine irritation goes through you as you remember your moldy chocolate cake from two weeks ago. “It’s your fault because you say you’ll eat it and then you don’t.”
“Sort of like you when you order it in the first place,” Sirius hums. And you know he’s only winding you up for fun, but you must have a dangerous look on your face, because your boyfriend’s demeanor shifts. He reaches for your hand on the table, threading your fingers together. “Lovely, just tell me what you want to have. We’re frightening Mary.”
“Oh no, don’t stop on my account,” says Mary, looking thoroughly entertained in her seat next to Lily, who’s faring considerably less well.
“I would be happy with any of them,” you emphasize.
Sirius rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it hurts. “Alright, sure, but you want something chocolate, don’t you?”
You frown. Because Sirius is trying to corner you into making the decision, and not at all because he knows you too well. “I wouldn’t mind it, I guess.”
“Right, so if I said I was between the brownie sundae and the lava cake, would you be able to choose between those?”
You study Sirius’ face, trying to pick out the secret preference you know he’s hiding from you. His eyes glint and his mouth is tamped into seriousness, but those clues only lead to what you already know: he’s having a grand time goading you.
“I’d want the lava cake,” you relent.
You’re rewarded by a smacking kiss on your cheek, distracting enough that no one else notices when Sirius’ hand slips beneath the table to squeeze your leg. “Attagirl. Knew you could do it.”
You roll your eyes. “Don’t fucking condescend to me.”
“Remind me, who was it that had qualms with cursing at each other in public?”
You roll your eyes harder. Regulus catches your gaze partway through its trajectory. “Blink twice if you need out of this relationship,” he offers seriously.
Sirius makes an indignant squawking sound, using an arm around your waist to pull you halfway into his chair as though to keep you from getting away. You smile at Regulus apologetically, your face beginning to burn in the aftermath of your squabble.
“Don’t worry about it, love,” James tells him. “This is foreplay for them.”
Regulus makes a noise of surprised revulsion. Sirius kisses your cheek again when it burns too hot.
synopsis — remus returns from his first date with you, a slytherin girl, and has to face his friends’ teasing in the common room.
fluff
remus entered the gryffindor common room.
he felt his heart beating harder than usual and his nose and cheeks were flushed from the cold air—and perhaps something more. the fire crackled softly in the hearth. before going in, remus knew the common room won't be empty. his friends had been insufferably annoying all week about this day and remus had a feeling they’d been waiting for him to return.
and sure enough, they were there. sirius lounged across the armchair closest to the fire, his legs draped over one arm and his head resting against the other. james was seated on the couch, reading a copy of quidditch weekly, while lily was resting against his body, with her head on his chest. peter was lying on the floor talking to her.
—moony's back! —peter announced. not even a second after remus set a foot into the common room. the moment those words left peter’s mouth, james, lily and sirius jumped from their seats.
—oh he's cheeks are more red than his gryffindor scarf!
remus touched them with the back of his hand as he took off his coat and scarf and left them hanging on a chair. —it's because of the snow outside.
—yeah, sure it's not because of that slytherin girl.
—did she kissed you? —peter asked straight up.
remus cheeks grew even hotter but he didn't answer to the question.
—you gotta tell us everything, moony! come on!
lily dragged him next to the fireplace and forced him to sit on the rug.
—is it really necessary? —remus asked, dying of embarrassment as he glanced up at his friends, who were eagerly looking back at him. james and sirius went back to sit on the couch, lily and peter were sitting in front of him on the floor.
—of course, it is! —lily said, her tone leaving no room for argument.
—oh, come on, moony, we’re all dying here, we've been waiting all afternoon. we just want to know how the date of the century went.
remus rolled his eyes at sirius words.
james decided that it was his time to join sirius' teasing. —yeah, and with a slytherin girl, no less. did she try to hex you? or, i dunno, bite you?
—good question, prongs. did she call you a blood traitor between compliments?
lily let out a dramatic sigh, giving them a sharp look. —you two are absolutely insufferable, —she said and turned back to remus, her voice softening. —don’t listen to them. they’re just jealous you had an actual date.
—she didn’t hex me, bite me, or called me a blood traitor, alright? she was perfectly nice and we had a great time —. remus stated. james and sirius huffed a laugh.
—a great time is suspiciously vague. care to elaborate?
remus played with his hands, the heat coming back to his cheeks when he started to remember everything.
—did she like the flowers, remus? —peter asked with excitement.
remus stood at the door of the castle, waiting for you. every time he looked at the bouquet in his hands, the wildflowers he carefully picked himself, he felt a little ridiculous. maybe it was too much for a first date. what if you thought it was silly? or worse, what if you didn’t like flowers at all? what if you were allergic to flowers?
—flowers, moony? bold move. what’s next, planning the wedding?
he shouldn't have told james and sirius. they spent the whole morning teasing him, and now their words were stuck on repeat in his mind. but peter told him it was a good idea, you were always so focused in herbology so you'd most likely loved them. in the middle of all the overthinking, remus heard the soft sound of footsteps on stone. he looked up, and there you were, walking down the stair with a shy but bright smile.
your heart beat faster after seeing remus and you had to focus on the stairs, the last thing you wanted was to trip and make a fool of yourself in front of him. still, you only could think about how sweet he looked, nervously shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
—hi —you said, your voice a little breathless but smiling.
—hi —he replied. remus held out the bouquet. —these are for you. i thought you might like them.
your eyes fell to the flowers. it was a careful mix of pinks, yellows and whites. the gesture made your chest ache in the best way because you know that he picked them himself for you. —they’re beautiful, —you said, your fingers brushing his as you took them. —thank you, remus. i love them.
—yes! i knew she'd love them —. peter said, triumphant.
—tell us, moony, did you hold her hand?
—padfoot, the audacity! —james gasped dramatically. —you held her hand on the first date, moony? i don't know who you are anymore!
remus rolled his eyes while he rubbed his hands, brushing over his thick scars. he tried not to hold your hand, not because he didn’t want to, but because he knew you’d notice the scars. and though he knew you weren’t the kind of person to say anything unkind, the thought of you touching them, of you asking about them, made his stomach twist.
to avoid falling in the snow, you had hooked your arm in remus'. you were laughing, your boots crunching through the snow, the conversation had flowed easily as always happened between you two. you were so comfortable in his presence that you didn't even realize that your hand began to slide down his arm, fingers tracing along the thick fabric of his coat until they slipped into his, curling naturally around his hand.
when you glanced up at him, his cheeks were red but his lips curved into a shy smile. remus didn’t pull away. if anything, his hand tightened around yours.
the scars on his hands didn’t matter to you. you noticed them long ago, during one of those afternoons in the library when the two of you studied together. he was flipping through the pages of a book and you saw them. it wasn’t hard to tell that he was self-conscious about them, he always wore the longest sweaters, ones that hung just past his wrists and sometimes even covered all his hands. that’s why you never asked him about it, except when you noticed some fresh ones, you couldn't help but ask him if he was okay.
—she was the one who held your hand! —james repeated. —moony, i think this girls wants to marry you.
—we’ll start planning the wedding now. peter, you can handle the flowers, moony’s already set the tone with that bouquet.
and they all laughed, even lily, who usually rolled her eyes at sirius and james’s relentless teasing, and remus, who usually found himself the victim of their jokes, couldn’t help but crack a smile.
—but come on, keep telling us!
—well, we walked to hogsmeade and we first visited some bookstores. she loves reading, she was so excited, practically dragging me around the place to show me her favorite sections and i had no complaints, as you can imagine.
james and sirius exchanged a look in disbelief and for once, neither of them could think of something to say. they had never seen their friend remus like this.
it wasn’t that girls hadn’t shown interest in him before, they had. but remus had always been polite, reserved, never letting things go past a conversation about books or classwork. he’d keep his distance, waving them hi in the corridors, showing them shy smiles, remembering their names, listening when they spoke, even sharing his notes if they needed help.
but dating? that had always seemed beyond him. it was complicated, messy, and exposed.
—merlin’s beard, —sirius murmured not wanting to interrupt remus who kept talking about you. sirius glanced at james with wide eyes. —she’s breaking down his walls.
james nodded slowly, an incredulous grin spreading across his face. —and he’s letting her.
the moment you turned the corner, your eyes landed on the familiar wooden sign swinging gently in the breeze, your favorite bookstore. it was small, away from the main street of hogsmeade, often closed when you visited, as if it only opened for those who truly needed it.
you gasped, catching your breath in surprise. —it’s open!
and he didn’t resist, letting you drag him toward the door. remus could immediately see why you liked the store so much, it was cozy, small but inviting, and it smelled like coffee and wood. run by an elderly woman who greeted you both as you entered, she gave you a knowing nod, as though she’d seen your excitement countless times before.
—it's good that you've finally brought your boyfriend here. a handsome gryffindor boy, no less, welcome dear.
remus froze for a split second, his cheeks hot red. —oh, i... um... —he looked at you for help.
you couldn’t help but laugh at his expression, though your own cheeks felt a little warm. —he’s not my... —you started, but the old woman waved you off with a twinkle in her eye.
—no need to explain, dear, you don’t have to tell an old woman what’s plain to see —. she winked at you both before turning back to her counter.
you nudged him playfully. —don’t worry, she says things like that to everyone. probably —remus gave you a skeptical look but couldn’t help smiling as he let you lead him deeper into the shop.
of course, he didn't tell his friends about this, he didn't even want to think about how much james and sirius would tease him.
remus continued talking about you. lily looked at him closely, wanting to know everything he could tell her about you. —she has good taste in books, she recommended me one about history of magic, she says it will make that class more interesting and help me pay more attention.
—that's so sweet of her. she noticed that you zone out during history of magic —. a sweet giggle escaped lily's lips.
remus rubbed the back of his neck. —yeah, i guess it’s not exactly a secret. —he shook his head, he didn't want to talk about history of magic right now, he wanted to keep talking about you. —then we went to the three broomstick.
—let me guess, she ordered something weird, like firewhisky, and you had to pretend to be cool with it?
remus rolled his eyes. —no, sirius. she ordered butterbeer, like a normal person.
—remus, you two seem to be very comfortable around each other —lily said, her tone innocent, but the mischievous twinkle in her eyes betrayed her. —there had to be a kiss.
sirius and james shared a look, they seemed genuinely surprised by lily’s boldness but they didn't say anything because they were more interested in remus' answer. the heat of his cheeks spread all the way up to his ears. james’s eyes widened as he caught remus’s expression. —so there was a kiss! —he exclaimed, pointing a finger at him like he’d just solved a mystery.
—do we really need to talk about this?
—yes! —all four of them said in unison.
you sat across from remus, the soft light from the lanterns of the three broomsticks lightened his face with a soft glow. it caught the silvery scars that lined his cheek, making them shimmer faintly, though he seemed oblivious to it. a single butterbeer sat between you, the two of you had been sharing it. you pointed at the corner of remus’s mouth.
—oh, you have something, —you said, gesturing to the spot.
—where? —he asked, looking confused as he swiped at his mouth.
—no, it’s more to the... —you leaned over the table. —here, let me.
you reached out and used your thumb to gently wipe away the trace of butterbeer at the corner of his lips. the moment leaned in closer, just a few inches apart now, his golden-brown eyes widened slightly, his breath catching as he looked at you. you closed the gap, your lips brushed his in a sweet kiss. remus froze for a moment but then he closed his eyes and melted into it.
when you pulled back, his cheeks were pink, his expression soft as he said —you, um... you missed a spot.
you laughed, your own cheeks warm as you sat back down. —i’ll get it next time.
the room went silent for a beat. peter sat there thinking, confusion spreading across his face. james was the one who broke the silence as he threw his head back, laughing. —that’s brilliant! the old ‘you’ve got something on your face’ trick.
peter was still confused. sirius shook his head. —she’s bold. i like her.
lily was smiling warmly. —i think it’s cute, —she said. —clearly, she’s not afraid to show how she feels.
peter’s eyes widened and he gasped as the realization hit him. —so she kissed you twice! —he exclaimed.
sirius groaned. it was working just fine, they were all surprised that remus had told them about another kiss and not the one they had seen from the common room, but they handled it just fine and knew how to hide it, all except peter. sirius threw one of the pillows at him. —you idiot!
remus frowned, it was true that you kissed him twice but how could peter possibly know that? —you spied on us?!
—spied is a strong word —. james said.
peter lifted his arms defensively, ducking as another pillow came flying his way. —no, not spy! we just… saw you two walking back to the castle. by accident! while we were… uh, checking the weather.
james smirked, leaning back in his seat. —exactly and that second kiss? didn’t think you were that much taller than her, moony, but there she was, standing on her tiptoes in the snow. pretty romantic, actually.
remus was mortified.
you walked arm in arm with remus back to the castle, his presence keeping you warm enough from the cold weather outside. the date went better than you ever could have imagined. remus was charming, thoughtful, and surprisingly funny. every moment with him felt genuine, like the two of you existed in a bubble where nothing else mattered.
as you neared the castle, you found yourself thinking about how you didn't want the evening to end.
you stopped face to face, you had to say goodbye but the words didn't come out of any of yours mouth. you didnt want it to end. remus stood there, his hands awkwardly tucked into the pockets of his coat, his gaze flickering between your face and the ground.
—well... —you both said at the same time.
—see you tomorrow in class.
you nodded. —yeah, see you tomorrow —. your arms wrapped around him in a gentle hug. his arms slowly went around your waist, pulling you in just a little bit closer.
when you pulled back from the hug, the space between you was closer, and you couldn’t help but notice how his eyes lingered on your lips. your heart beat faster in your chest, and before either of you could think too much about it, you stood on your tiptoes and closed the distance, pressing your lips to his one more time. remus took his hands out of his pockets to hold your face and yours pressed against his chest.
when you finally pulled away, the smile on remus’s face told you everything you needed to know.
—see you tomorrow, then? —you whispered softly, still a little dazed from the kiss.
he nodded, his smile never fading. —yeah. tomorrow.
—and you should be grateful that i didn't let them use the invisibility cloak —. lily added.
remus groaned, dragging his hands down his face. —grateful? you’ve got to be joking.
lily's expression softened as she leaned forward. —but seriously, remus, it sounds like it was a nice date. it’s good to see you happy.
—yeah, it was great seeing that slytherin trying to suck your soul and you gladly letting her do it.
lily gave sirius a sharp look, but even she couldn't suppress a small smile at his teasing. remus, however, looked like he might die of embarrassment as he buried his face in his hands again.
—i'm so done with this conversation —. remus added as he stood up from the floor. he wanted to go to sleep as soon as possible so that tomorrow he would arrive earlier.
james just grinned. —you can’t stop now, moony. we’ve just started.
⬩➤ details: sfw, childhood best friends, friends to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, christmas at potter manor, domestic vibes, love confessions, "we're just friends" trope, everyone knows except them, the marauders aren't assholes in this universe
⬩➤ wordcount: 5.1k
⬩➤ note: was supposed to write this like a week ago but my grandpa suddenly died so..... anw, i hope u enjoy reading it!
⬩➤ synopsis:
Childhood best friends and practically inseparable at Hogwarts, you and James Potter have always been at the center of each other’s worlds. But while everyone around you swears there’s something more between you, James is hiding feelings he’s terrified to confess—afraid that loving you out loud might cost him the friendship he treasures most.
The platform was a whirlwind of noise and steam, but you spotted James the second you stepped through the barrier. You always did. Even in a sea of black robes and excited first-years, he stood out—tall for his age, messy dark hair already defying gravity, and that easy, lopsided grin reserved mostly for you.
“Oi! There’s my favorite neighbor!” he called, pushing through the crowd without a care for the people he bumped into. Before you could even adjust your grip on your trunk, he was there, pulling you into a quick, tight hug that smelled like broom polish and the cinnamon sweets his mum always packed. “Took you long enough. Thought I’d have to send Sirius after you.”
“You say that like I’m the one who’s late,” you laughed, nudging his shoulder. “You’re the one who probably woke up at the last possible second again.”
James only winked, grabbing the handle of your trunk with one hand and your wrist with the other. “Come on. Best compartment’s waiting.”
He’d been doing this since you were six—dragging you along like the two of you were attached by an invisible string. Your families’ estates sat side by side in the countryside, so playdates had been inevitable at first. Then they became the highlight of every summer. Every holiday. Every lazy afternoon spent catching frogs by the pond or racing brooms (badly) across the fields. James Potter had been your person for as long as you could remember.
This year felt different, though. He was starting his second year, and you were finally joining Hogwarts. You’d spent the whole train ride from home wondering what it would be like to finally share this world with him instead of just hearing his owls about it.
James slid open the door to a compartment halfway down the train and practically shoved you inside first.
“Gentlemen,” he announced grandly, “meet the best witch you’ll ever know. This is my best friend. We’ve been stuck with each other since we were tiny.”
Three boys looked up.
The one with the dark, shoulder-length hair and a dangerously charming smirk immediately straightened. “Well, hello. James has only mentioned you about a hundred times. I’m Sirius Black. Pleasure’s all yours.”
You couldn’t help laughing. “Only a hundred? I’m offended. I thought it’d be more.”
Sirius barked a laugh, clearly delighted. “I like her already, Prongs.”
The boy beside him—tall, with light brown hair and a scarred face—offered a quiet, kind smile. “Remus Lupin. Nice to finally meet you. James talks about you nonstop.”
“And I’m Peter Pettigrew,” the last boy said, waving a little awkwardly but warmly. He had a round face and a bag of sweets already open on his lap. “Want a Chocolate Frog? They’re good this year.”
You slid into the seat James had clearly been guarding—the one right next to him by the window—and accepted the Frog from Peter with a grateful smile. James dropped down beside you without hesitation, his knee bumping yours comfortably. He didn’t even seem to notice he’d done it. He never did.
The train whistle blew, and with a lurch, you were off.
Conversation flowed easily. Sirius launched into a dramatic retelling of their misadventures from last year—charming suits of armor to dance in the corridors, turning the Slytherin common room’s tap water bright pink for a week. Nothing cruel, just the same clever, chaotic fun that James had written about in his letters when talking about their newest pranks. Remus rolled his eyes fondly and corrected the details when Sirius exaggerated, while Peter chimed in with enthusiastic “yeah!”s and the occasional snack offering.
You fit right in, teasing Sirius back when he tried to flirt, asking Remus about the books he was already reading this term, and laughing when Peter accidentally turned his own eyebrows orange with an experimental Sweet he’d bought.
All the while, James was quieter than usual—not in a bad way, just… softer. He kept glancing at you like he wanted to make sure you were comfortable, that you were laughing, that you were happy. Every so often his arm would rest along the back of the seat behind you, not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the warmth.
There was that familiar warm feeling in your chest again. Being in his presence brought that feeling, for you felt safest near him. After all, you really loved your best friend more than anything.
“—and then McGonagall nearly hexed us on the spot,” Sirius finished, grinning. “But enough about our glory. Tell us about you. What house do you think you’ll be in? James swears you’re Gryffindor through and through.”
You shrugged, smiling. “I don’t know. Mum thinks Ravenclaw, Dad says Hufflepuff just to wind her up. James has been trying to convince me Gryffindor since I was nine.”
“Obviously,” James said, bumping your shoulder with his. His voice was lighter than it had been with the others all summer. “Where else would you go? We’d miss you too much otherwise.” The words settled warmly between you. You didn’t catch the way Sirius raised an eyebrow at Remus, or the small, knowing glance the two shared.
The countryside blurred past the window as the four boys slowly pulled you into their orbit. And through it all, James stayed right beside you—exactly where he’d always been.
The years at Hogwarts blurred together like the pages of a well-loved photo album—full of laughter, late nights, and the kind of easy rhythm that only came from knowing someone your whole life.
By your third year, the pattern was already set in stone.
After every Quidditch match, no matter if Gryffindor won or lost, James would touch down on the pitch and scan the stands until he found you. His hair would be windswept and damp with sweat, his grin wide even when his team had taken a beating. He’d ignore the crowds, ignore his teammates, and make a beeline straight for you.
“You came,” he’d always say, a little breathless, like there had ever been a chance you wouldn’t.
“Of course I did, you idiot.” You’d laugh and hand him a water bottle or a towel, and he’d take it with that soft, particular smile he only ever used on you.
In the Great Hall, it was the same story. James would steal chips off your plate without asking, or swipe the last bite of your treacle tart, all while complaining loudly that the house-elves gave you better portions than him. You’d swat his hand away, but never really mind. He’d just grin and lean closer, shoulder pressed to yours like it belonged there.
“James, eat your own food,” you’d scold half-heartedly.
“But yours tastes better,” he’d reply every single time.
You fixed his tie almost every morning. He’d show up to breakfast with it crooked or loose, and without thinking you’d reach up, straighten it, and smooth down his collar. The first time Sirius saw it happen he nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
“Merlin, you two are disgusting,” he’d tease, but there was always a fond glint in his eye.
The professors weren’t any better. Professor Flitwick once paused mid-lesson to ask, “Potter, dear, would you and your girlfriend like to demonstrate the Levitation Charm together?” The entire class had turned to look. You and James had answered at the exact same time:
“We’re just friends!”
Flitwick had only smiled knowingly and moved on.
Sirius, of course, made it his personal mission to never let anyone forget. He started the fake wedding announcements in your fourth year.
“Daily Prophet, special edition!” he’d shout across the common room one evening, holding up a piece of parchment dramatically. “James Potter, Chaser extraordinaire, to wed childhood sweetheart in a lavish spring ceremony! Guests include one very handsome best man named Sirius Orion Black—”
“Padfoot, I swear on Merlin’s grave—” James groaned, ears turning pink.
You just rolled your eyes and laughed. “We’re just friends, Sirius. How many times?”
“Best friends who are clearly soulmates,” Remus would add quietly from behind his book, smirking.
Peter usually just nodded along, mouth full of sweets. “Yeah… you do sit together everywhere.”
Even when you studied late in the library, the dynamic never changed. James would sprawl across the table with his head propped on one hand, watching you instead of his notes half the time. You’d slide his essay closer and point out mistakes, and he’d thank you by sliding over a bar of Honeydukes chocolate he’d saved just for you.
There was always that warm feeling in your chest during those quiet moments. The fire crackling, quills scratching, James’s knee brushing yours under the table. You really loved your best friend more than anything in the world. That was all it was. A deep, steady, comfortable kind of love.
James, though… you never quite noticed how his gaze would linger. How he’d open his mouth sometimes like he wanted to say something else, then close it again with a small, almost pained smile. How after you’d say goodnight and head back to your dorm, he’d stay behind in the common room, staring into the fire while Sirius clapped him on the back and muttered, “Mate, you’ve got it bad.”
But you didn’t see that part.
To you, it was simply James. Your James. The boy who had held your hand during thunderstorms when you were seven, who had flown you around on his broom during summers, who made every day at Hogwarts feel like an adventure you got to share.
And everyone else could think what they wanted.
You were just friends.
It was a perfectly ordinary Tuesday evening in the Gryffindor common room.
The fire was crackling low, most people had already gone up to bed, and the Marauders had claimed their usual corner. Sirius was dramatically reenacting his latest prank on the Slytherins, complete with sound effects. Remus was half-listening while marking essays, and Peter was dozing off with a half-eaten Chocolate Frog in his hand.
You were curled up on the couch beside James, wearing his spare Quidditch jumper because the common room had gotten chilly and you’d forgotten your own cardigan upstairs. The jumper was far too big on you—sleeves falling past your wrists, the scarlet and gold swallowing your frame—but it was warm and smelled faintly like him (broom polish, grass, and that cinnamon scent that always clung to James).
Sirius pointed at you mid-story. “Look at her! She’s practically drowning in Potter branding. You two may as well just get it over with and elope already.”
“Shut up, Padfoot,” James said lightly, but his voice lacked its usual bite.
You laughed, the sound bright and easy as you tugged the too-long sleeves up your arms. “It’s comfortable, alright? And it’s not my fault James is built like a beanpole who keeps growing.”
James turned his head to look at you.
You didn’t notice at first. You were still smiling, still half-watching Sirius’s chaotic gestures, still absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his jumper. But something in the air shifted.
James had gone quiet.
His usual restless energy—the constant bouncing knee, the drumming fingers, the endless movement—had stilled completely. He was just… staring. Not at the fire. Not at Sirius. At you. At the way his jumper hung off your shoulder, at the way your laughter lit up your whole face, at the way you looked so perfectly at home right beside him.
You glanced over when he stayed silent.
“James?” you asked, tilting your head. “You okay? You look a bit lost.”
He blinked, and for a split second something raw and unguarded flickered across his face—wide hazel eyes, slightly parted lips, like he’d just been hit with a Bludger he never saw coming.
Then he smiled. That soft, crooked, only-for-you smile.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m alright.”
But he wasn’t.
Because in that tiny, unremarkable moment—your sleepy laughter, his oversized jumper on your frame, the casual way you leaned a little closer to him without thinking—James Potter finally understood.
Oh.
The word echoed in his head like a whispered confession.
This wasn’t just missing you over summer. This wasn’t just the comfortable warmth of having his best friend beside him. This was something deeper. Something terrifying. Something that made his chest ache in the best and worst possible ways.
He was in love with you.
And it was bad. Really, properly bad.
Because you were you. His favorite person in the entire world. The girl who had known him since he was a scrawny six-year-old who cried when he scraped his knee. The one who fixed his tie, stole his glasses to tease him, and never once looked at him like he was arrogant or loud or too much. If he told you and it went wrong… he could lose this. Lose you. And that was something James wasn’t willing to risk. Not ever.
So he swallowed it down, the way he’d swallowed it a hundred times before without realizing what “it” even was. He forced his expression to stay light even as his heart hammered against his ribs. He reached over and gently tugged one of the long sleeves you kept fighting with.
“Looks better on you anyway,” he said, voice steady even though his heart was racing.
Sirius made another wedding joke. Remus shot James a knowing look over the top of his parchment. You just rolled your eyes fondly and nudged James’s shoulder with yours, that warm, familiar feeling blooming in your chest again.
James laughed along with Sirius’s next joke, but the decision had already cemented itself in his mind.
He would never tell you.
He couldn’t risk it. Not when this—having you this close, this comfortable, this his in every way that mattered—was already more than he thought he deserved.
So he’d keep it locked away. For the sake of your friendship. For the sake of you.
Even if it killed him a little every single day.
The Gryffindor common room was buzzing with low energy after dinner. Most students had drifted off to finish homework, but your little corner by the fireplace was alive with conspiracy.
“Alright,” Sirius whispered, leaning over the Marauders’ Map like it was a battle plan. “We hit the Slytherin dungeons right after Potions tomorrow. One charm on the showers and every time they turn the taps, they’ll sing ‘God Save the Queen’ at full volume.”
You snorted, legs tucked under you on the couch. “That’s evil. I love it. But you’ll need an alibi. Professor Slughorn’s having that Slug Club thing tomorrow night—James and I are already invited. We can say you lot were with us the whole time.”
James, sitting right beside you, lit up like the sun had come out just for him. “See? This is why we keep her around. Best alibi in Hogwarts.”
“Oi!” Sirius clutched his chest in mock betrayal. “She’s my partner in crime tonight. Back off, Prongs.”
You grinned and immediately leaned into the chaos. “Sorry, James. Sirius and I are the masterminds now. You’re just the pretty distraction.”
James clutched his heart dramatically. “Betrayed. By my own best friend.” But his grin was huge—wide, easy, and brighter than it ever was when it was just the four boys. Around you, James seemed lighter. Happier. Like everything clicked into place the second you joined their plans.
Remus watched the whole thing from his armchair, one eyebrow raised, while Peter fidgeted with a pile of fireworks they were planning to use as backup on one hand and chocolate on the other.
The planning session quickly devolved. Sirius kept trying to one-up your ideas, and you kept shooting them down with logic and better suggestions. At one point the two of you ganged up on James when he suggested something overly flashy.
“No, no, no,” you laughed, poking James’s cheek. “If we do it your way, McGonagall will know it’s you in two seconds. Tone it down, Potter.”
“Yeah, Prongs,” Sirius piled on, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Listen to your wife. She’s clearly the brains.”
James turned pink but couldn’t stop smiling. He swatted Sirius’s arm away from you, but there was no real heat in it. “She’s not my wife, you prat.”
“Yet,” Peter mumbled absentmindedly, licking chocolate off his fingers.
You blinked. “What?”
Peter finally looked up, chocolate still on his lips. “Uh… I mean… everyone says it anyway?”
James groaned and dropped his face into his hands, but his shoulders were shaking with laughter. You reached over and ruffled his already-messy hair, which only made him peek at you through his fingers with that soft, heart-melting look again.
Later that night, after an intense Quidditch practice, James came storming into the common room still in his scarlet robes, muttering under his breath about a bad call by the captain. His hair was even wilder than usual, frustration rolling off him in waves. The boys knew better than to poke the bear when he got like this.
You didn’t.
You stood up, walked straight over, and tugged gently on his tie until he stopped pacing.
“Hey,” you said softly. “Breathe. It was one practice. You’re still the best Chaser in the school.”
James exhaled, long and slow. The tension melted from his shoulders the second your fingers brushed his chest. He let you straighten his tie even though it didn’t need fixing, eyes locked on your face like you were the only calm thing in his world.
“Thanks,” he murmured, voice quieter now. Only for you.
Remus noticed everything, of course. Especially the way James stared at you when you turned around to grab him a butterbeer from the table—lingering, fond, a little bit aching.
Much later, when you finally headed upstairs with a cheerful “Night, boys!” and a special wink at James, the common room grew quieter.
Remus waited until the portrait hole closed before speaking.
“Are you ever going to tell her?”
James was sprawled on the couch, staring at the spot where you’d been sitting. He didn’t even pretend not to understand.
“No.”
Remus closed his book. “Why?”
James was quiet for a long moment, hazel eyes distant and soft.
“Because I’d rather have her like this than not at all.”
The snow fell thick and soft over Potter Manor, blanketing the grounds in perfect, untouched white. Inside, the old stone house glowed with warmth—fireplaces crackling in nearly every room, fairy lights strung along the banisters, and the faint crackle of an old vinyl record spinning in the sitting room.
You had been coming here for Christmas since you were little, but this year felt different. The whole Marauders crew had been invited, and the manor felt more alive than ever.
Euphemia Potter spotted you the second you stepped through the front door with James. She swept you into a tight hug that smelled of cinnamon and vanilla, her hands cupping your face like you were one of her own.
“There’s my girl,” she said warmly, brushing snowflakes from your hair. “Honestly, James, why don’t you just propose already so I can call her my daughter properly?”
“Mum!” James groaned, ears instantly red. But he couldn’t hide the pleased little smile tugging at his lips as he watched the two of you.
Sirius, already acting like he’d lived at Potter Manor his entire life, sauntered past with his trunk floating behind him. “Don’t worry, Effie. I’m working on it. I make an excellent wedding planner.”
Fleamont chuckled from his armchair while Remus shook his head fondly and Peter happily accepted a plate of fresh mince pies from a house-elf.
The days leading up to Christmas were pure magic.
Mornings were spent in the snow—James dragging you outside for snowball fights where he “accidentally” protected you more than he attacked. Afternoons melted into chaotic card games around the massive oak table. Sirius and James were ruthless competitors, but you and Remus kept teaming up to destroy them. Every time you won a round, James would lean over and dramatically drape himself across your shoulders.
“You’re cheating,” he’d whisper in your ear, breath warm against your skin. “I don’t know how, but you’re definitely cheating.”
“I’m just better than you,” you’d tease back, and that warm, familiar feeling would bloom in your chest again. You really loved your best friend more than anything.
Evenings were your favorite.
The record player stayed on late—Frank Sinatra, Celestina Warbeck, and some old wizarding jazz standards. Hot chocolate flowed endlessly, topped with mountains of whipped cream and tiny floating marshmallows. One night, after everyone else had gone to bed, you and James stayed curled up on the big sofa in the sitting room, the fire casting golden light across the walls.
Your legs were tucked under you, his Quidditch jumper on again (he’d thrown it at you the second you complained about being cold). James had one arm stretched along the back of the sofa, fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder. The record had switched to something slow and gentle.
“You know,” he said softly, staring into the fire, “I think these are my favorite holidays. When everyone’s here. Especially you.”
You smiled, bumping your shoulder against his. “You say that like I’d ever miss it. Your mum would drag me here by the ears if I tried.”
James laughed quietly, but his gaze lingered on your face a second longer than usual. The firelight made his hazel eyes look almost golden. For a moment, the air felt thicker—like the space between you had shrunk without either of you moving.
You didn’t notice the way his fingers twitched like he wanted to reach out. You only felt that same steady warmth in your chest. Friendly love. Deep, unbreakable, best-friend love.
James swallowed and looked back at the fire.
“Stay up with me a bit longer?” he asked, voice quieter than normal.
“Always,” you answered easily.
The record kept spinning. Snow kept falling outside the tall windows. And the two of you stayed there, talking about nothing and everything—old summers by the pond, ridiculous pranks gone wrong, dreams for after Hogwarts—until the logs had burned low and your eyelids grew heavy.
James watched you fight sleep with the softest expression on his face, the one no one else ever got to see.
And if anyone had walked in at that exact moment—seeing you in his jumper, legs tangled together on the sofa, Sinatra crooning softly in the background—they would have assumed you had been dating for years.
But James only smiled sadly to himself, tucked the blanket a little tighter around you, and kept loving you quietly.
The rest of the house had mysteriously vanished after dinner.
Sirius had dragged Remus and Peter off with some weak excuse about “helping Effie with the puddings,” shooting James a not-so-subtle wink on his way out. You and James were left alone in the grand sitting room, surrounded by open boxes of ornaments, tangled tinsel, and the tall fir tree standing in front of the tall windows overlooking the snowy grounds.
Golden lamplight mixed with the glow from the fireplace, casting everything in a warm, cinematic haze. Frank Sinatra played softly on the old record player, his voice filling the comfortable quiet between you.
You worked side by side, the kind of easy rhythm you’d had since you were children. James lifted you by the waist so you could reach the higher branches, your hands brushing as you passed him baubles and strings of lights. Every touch felt a little warmer tonight.
“Remember the first Christmas we decorated together?” you asked, handing him a delicate glass snowflake. “We were six. Your mum let us use real magic and we turned half the ornaments into frogs.”
James laughed, the sound low and fond. “They kept jumping off the tree. Dad was furious but Mum thought it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.” He hung the snowflake and glanced down at you. “You cried when one hopped into the fire.”
“I did not,” you protested, nudging his side.
“You absolutely did. I had to promise to catch you a new frog in the summer to make it better.”
You rolled your eyes but smiled. The teasing flowed naturally as you kept decorating—recalling snowball wars, the time James tried (and failed) to enchant the star to spin, the summer you both got in trouble for flying brooms too close to the neighbor’s garden.
At one point, James’s glasses slipped down his nose while he reached for a high branch. You stepped in without thinking and gently pushed them back up for him, your fingers brushing his temple.
“You’ve always taken care of me,” you said softly, still smiling. “Even when we were tiny and ridiculous.”
James lowered his arms and turned to look at you.
Really looked.
You stood there in the golden light, wearing his old jumper, tinsel caught in your hair, cheeks slightly flushed from the fire and laughter. The teasing smile on your face was the same one he’d known for over a decade — and suddenly it hit him harder than ever.
“God, I love you.”
The words slipped out, quiet and unguarded.
Silence.
James’s eyes widened in horror as he realized what he’d said. “Shit— I didn’t— I mean— obviously I love you, you’re my best friend, but that’s not— wait, no, it is— bloody hell, I’m messing this up—”
He spun away, face burning, nearly dropping the entire box of ornaments. His hands fumbled as he tried to recover. “You know what I mean, right? Or maybe you don’t— I shouldn’t have— fuck—”
“James,” you cut in, a soft laugh escaping you. “Shut up.”
He stopped rambling, turning back to you with wide, stunned eyes.
You gave him a small, amused smile. “I like you too, okay? Don’t worry about it.”
James just stared, completely flustered. His mouth opened, then closed. No clever comeback. No smooth reply. Just pure surprise and disbelief written all over his face.
Before he could find his voice, you picked up a soft, padded Christmas ornament and lightly tossed it at his head.
“We still have a tree to decorate, y’know,” you said, grinning.
The ornament bounced off him harmlessly. James blinked, then let out a startled laugh.
“Hey!” he shouted, grabbing another lightweight bauble and tossing it gently back at you. It sailed past your shoulder as you dodged, laughing.
The two of you stood there for a moment, ornaments in hand, the record still playing, the tension breaking into something lighter and warmer. James’s ears were still red, but the grin spreading across his face was real — relieved and happy in a way you’d rarely seen.
He rubbed the back of his neck, shaking his head. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“Good,” you replied, turning back to the tree with a smirk. “Now pass me the star. We’re finishing this before your mum comes looking for us.”
James exhaled a shaky laugh and stepped closer again, the air between you buzzing with something new — but still undeniably you and James.
Hours later, long after the tree stood proudly decorated and the rest of the house had fallen asleep, the sitting room was wrapped in quiet magic.
Only the fireplace glowed now, its flames low and flickering, casting dancing shadows across the walls. The Christmas tree lights twinkled softly like captured stars, reflecting off tinsel and glass ornaments. Outside, snow continued to fall in thick, silent flakes past the tall windows. Sinatra’s record had come back around, playing the same slow, velvet song that had witnessed everything earlier that evening.
You and James were the only ones still awake.
He had taken your hand without a word, pulling you gently into the middle of the room. One dance, he’d murmured. Now your arms were wrapped around his neck, his hands resting at your waist as you swayed together in unhurried circles. Your bodies moved in perfect sync, barely more than a slow shift of weight. Your cheek rested against his chest, listening to the steady, slightly faster beat of his heart beneath his shirt. James held you like you were something precious — one hand splayed across your lower back, the other gently threaded with yours.
The song wrapped around you both. Every breath, every small shift brought you closer. You could feel the warmth of him through his jumper, smell the faint scent of cinnamon and firewood that always clung to him during the holidays. James’s thumb traced slow, absent circles on your back, and you felt him release a shaky exhale against your hair.
Slowly, you lifted your head.
James was already looking down at you. His hazel eyes caught the firelight, turning gold and warm. The usual mischief was gone — replaced by something deeper, vulnerable, and aching. His gaze dropped to your lips for a heartbeat before returning to your eyes, asking without words.
The air between you felt thick, charged. The rest of the world faded until it was only the two of you, the soft music, and years of almosts finally catching up.
James swallowed. His hand came up to cradle the side of your face, thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek. You leaned into the touch. He leaned down.
The kiss was everything.
It started impossibly soft — just a gentle press of lips, warm and hesitant, like he was still afraid you might vanish. Then it deepened, slow and reverent. His lips moved against yours with quiet longing, pouring in every unsaid “I love you” from the past few years. You tasted the faint sweetness of hot chocolate on him. Felt the slight tremble in his hands as they held your face like you were made of starlight. Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling him closer, and James sighed softly into the kiss, melting against you.
It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was warm, full of love, and so achingly tender it made your chest ache. When you finally parted, barely an inch, both of you were breathing a little heavier. James rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, a small, wonderstruck smile playing on his lips
Only one thought occupied his mind:
Maybe saying something stupid was the smartest thing I’ve ever done.
Then—
“OH MY GOD GUYS THEY’RE TOGETHER NOW!”
Peter stumbled into the room in rumpled pajamas, hair wild, eyes wide with sleepy shock. He pointed dramatically between the two of you, mouth hanging open.
“I knew it! I knew it! Wait till Sirius hears—”
“Pete!” James groaned, half-laughing as he kept one arm securely around your waist, cheeks flushed. You buried your face in James’s chest, laughter bubbling up against his shirt while footsteps and sleepy voices started echoing from upstairs.
James just pressed another quick, smiling kiss to the top of your head and held you tighter.
For years he had loved you in silence. Now, James swore he’d love you loudly for the rest of his life.
childhood best friend james potter headcanons
james potter x reader; fluff
childhood best friend james potter who you didn't see much of at hogwarts. his elevated social status didn't mean he was embarrassed or "too cool" for you, but it did mean his free time was often occupied. but of course, being who he is, he always ensures the two of you go out to hogsmeade once a month to catch up.
childhood best friend james potter whose parents treated you like their own. you spent more days than you can remember helping euphemia potter bake or sitting down with tea to gossip after you had come back from summer break. effie always invited you over the day you got home, wanting all the details her son never provided. she sent you just as many letters and presents during the school year as she did james. and you would spend late nights discussing academia with fleamont or working on some crazy potion or other. james would often complain about how you spent more time with his parents than him, and they would joke about the two of you getting married, considering you were already part of the family.
childhood best friend james potter who was your first kiss. it was during a fireside game of truth or dare when you were twelve and the two of you erupted into a fit of giggles afterward. you never spoke about it again, but neither of you forgot the electric feeling that surged through you during the moment.
childhood best friend james potter who broke your heart every time he told you about lily evans. you spent years listening to his love-struck rants about the redhead, and you spent an embarrassing amount of time comparing yourself to her. it was subconscious and you couldn't help it, you were so young when james first told you about her. as much as you loved your best friend, you couldn't help but be a little bit relieved at every failed attempt to win her heart.
childhood best friend james potter who had always flirted with you and called you nicknames since you were kids. he had picked up "love" and "sweetheart" from his parents and naturally projected it onto his relationship with you, not seeing the romantic implications until he was older and by that time he was far too used to it to stop.
childhood best friend james potter who got jealous when you and sirius starting getting close. he had initially been thrilled to have his own brother, seeing as he grew up an only child, and it wasn't like the two of you had never met before. but he didn't anticipate that his summer nights once spent whispering secrets and making inside jokes with you would be replaced by group campfires and watching sirius shamelessly flirt with you. lily always seemed to escape his mind when he was with you, except for when he attempted to get you jealous by talking about her, which only backfired.
childhood best friend james potter who kissed you on new year's eve. he proposed it as a joke, but both of you knew that you wanted it more than anything. minutes before midnight he approached you on the terrace of his absurdly large house and asked if you would be his kiss at midnight. he had frowned slightly when you brought up the question of lily, mistaking it for you turning him down, but when you agreed he lit up like the fireworks in the sky. that night he had kissed you with more passion than you had ever experienced before, like he knew he might only have one chance and he wanted to make the most of it. the two of you had just stared at each other afterward, trying to silently communicate your feelings because you were too afraid that the words would ruin your friendship.
childhood best friend james potter who confessed his love for you after he got sick of hearing about the guy you were talking to. it was selfish, but he had spent too long pretending not to love you to care. you had asked him about lily, to which he said that he had never understood the difference between a school crush and a life-long love until now. he isn't the type of person to just admit his feelings and expect you to immediately have him either, he knew he had to earn your love (just as his mother had taught him). so after that night he brought you flowers each day and took you on dates before finally asking you to be his partner with a bouquet and chocolates in hand.
childhood best friend james potter who proposed to you in the same treehouse you had played in together every day as kids. a blanket laid out with food and candles, making it look like just a romantic picnic date until he had got on one knee and begun the most touching speech you have ever heard in your life. he spent the days after parading you around and calling everyone the two of you knew to brag about he fact that he got to be yours for the rest of his life.
childhood best friend james potter who knew you better than anyone and never stopped trying to earn your love, even well after you had begun a family together.
During their 7th year, James and Sirius fake proposed to each other constantly when they went out for dinner so they could get a free meal. When they got a bit older, they ended up accidently going to one of these restaurants this time accompanied by Remus and Regulus, their partners. The fuckung server remembered them, and the poor, well-intentioned man came up to them and asked, "How's married life working out for you?" and you could FEEL the terror that took over James and Sirius when their boyfriends turned around to glare at them
