Look After You (2)
A/N: It has been two long years without an update to this saga, and I am terribly sorry. So much has happened that it would be impossible to fit into one author’s note. However, I am back and better with the continuation of the Look After You saga! I hope you enjoy it, as it took me a lot to relive all the ideas and anguish of pulling this plot together by its seams. Series Summary: October 3, 1976— the day your life fell apart. With your best friend gone and two hotheaded males that insist on trailing behind your every move, you might not escape the school year sane, or worse, alive. Series Warning — READ THIS BEFORE YOU CONTINUE: This fic is not for the light of heart. Over the course of the story, you will see elements that will include but are not limited to torture, mature and adult themes, reckless behavior that borders suicidal, and PTSD. If any of these bother you, please, do not read this story. You have been warned. Word Count: 2,364 Warnings: Language.
“Macmillian, stop ogling your girlfriend before someone gets a Bludger to the face!”
You watched James zip passed the blonde Beater as you leaned on the stand railing, dreamily watching him play.
“He’s pretty brutal for just a friendly,” Mary chuckled, fingers nimbly twisting the ends of her Gryffindor scarf. “I’m surprised he hasn’t knocked O’Mara off her broom yet.”
“You can tell he’s thought of it,” you laughed, pointing at James, who hovered above the field as Hooch called a foul on the Slytherin Beater, Travers. “Look at his face!”
Jaw locked and fists clenched around the handle of his broom, James hunched as he stared in the direction of the brunette Slytherin, undoubtedly giving her a glare from Hell. When the whistle blew, he lurched forward and zagged between Lucinda Talkalot, the Slytherin Captain and another Chaser, and O’Mara, successfully snatching the airborne Quaffle before racing down the pitch.
“FUCK HER UP, JAMES!”
You whipped your head around, gawking at a blonde who sat further up on the stands. You recognized her to be Marlene McKinnon, a close friend of Lily and occasional arm candy for Sirius Black. Lily slapped her friend’s arm, face rivaling the color of her hair and scrunched up. You rolled your eyes, mood souring already.
“I could dock House points for foul language?” Olivia offered sympathetically, closing her hand around yours. As the Gryffindor Prefect for your year, it was a little surprising that she would offer to abuse her power for you. Olivia hated breaking the rules as much as Mary did.
You shook your head, studying your chipped nail polish. “Maybe Louise was right. It’s pathetic to chase after a guy I don’t have a chance with.”
“I told you not to let what she says get to you, (Y/N),” Mary warned, standing up straight to face you. “Louise is, by everything but definition, a hag. The only reason you don’t stand a chance right now is because you don’t talk to James, which can be changed. You’ll never know if you never try.”
You smiled softly at your best friend’s words, but you continued to glower over your shoulder. No amount of self-love pep talks could shine through the shadow Lily cast over you.
“Maybe it’s time to move on,” Oliva added on, placing a tan hand on your shoulder. “They say the best way to get over a guy is to get under another.”
“Olivia!” You shrieked, cheeks blazing at her abruptness. “You’re spending too much time with Nadeen. I’ve, I’ve never done that-“
“Oh, no! That’s not what I meant!” Oliva’s cheeks pinked, and she quickly reached up to adjust her glasses. “Is that what that means? Merlin.. Anyways, I meant that you should try to find someone else to crush on. What about Tiberius? I heard he’s single.”
You pulled a face at the thought of Tiberius McLaggen. He wasn’t exactly hideous, but he wasn’t the best-looking guy either.
“He sweats more than he talks,” Mary grimaced, looking in the direction where the male sat. He sat laughing with Waldren Vane, and when he looked your way, you and Mary both snapped your heads forward. “Remember when he threw up second year in Potions? All over Regulus Black? I thought he was a goner for sure.”
“Speaking of Regulus Black, did you hear?” Oliva whispered suddenly, leaning into you both. “I heard he’s joined You-Know-Who. I overheard him and Lucius Malfoy discussing some kind of mission during the Prefect meeting. Sounded really important.”
You frowned, looking up at the Quidditch field. You spotted Regulus hovering above the field, head turning slowly as he searched for the Snitch. “Regulus, a Death Eater? No way. He always seemed so…”
“Soft,” Mary whispered, visibly shaken. You covered her hand with hers, frowning softly. As a half-blood yourself, you couldn’t imagine the fear Mary felt as a Muggleborn. The insults hurled her way by the Slytherins only grew with the years as the Dark Lord grew in power.
“It could just be a rumor, you know,” Olivia started, eyeing Mary cautiously. “There seems to be loads of those going around already. However, (Y/N), his brother Sirius has been single for quite a while.”
“Yeah, romantically,” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest with a grimace. “He’s been in more beds than he has detentions. Really, I’m surprised he hasn’t caught some magically-incurable disease or something.”
Mary and Olivia both laughed, shaking their heads at your outspoken dislike of the oldest Black brother.
“He’s a total prat, too,” you added on, pushing your scarf further over your shoulder. “Did you see what he did to that Ravenclaw first year? Totally singed the boy’s eyebrows straight off his face!”
“James was in on that too, you know,” Mary reminded you with a pointed look. Before you could jump to his defense, she suddenly swayed, knees buckling beneath her. You jumped to catch her before she fell, face twisted in concern.
“Mary? What’s wrong?” You looked up at Olivia, motioning your head for a little help. She just watched with widened eyes.
“Nothing,” Mary croaked, eyes screwed shut as she tried to stand up. “I just got really dizzy for a second. I didn’t eat much this morning.”
“I’ll go get you something to snack on. Oliva, can you hold her?” You helped Mary to the benches behind you, holding onto her shoulder before Olivia slid in beside her. You reluctantly walked away, sending a concerned look over your shoulder as you reached the end of the row.
You missed the first step down.
Two strong arms caught you before you hit the ground, and you were pulled into a warm chest. Plagued by a familiar, overwhelming scent of cinnamon, pine, and a hint of cigarette musk, you raised your head to meet the steely grey eyes of none other than Sirius Black. He smirked, keeping his grip on your arms. “Falling for me already? I don’t even know your name-“
“As if!” Yanking yourself from him, you looked up with a scowl. He met your eyes with a mischievous glint in his. He stepped in front of you as you tried to leave, blocking you in. You went the other way, but he only side-stepped again, wearing that same damn smirk.
“Do you mind?”
“What is it?” He raised an eyebrow, waiting expectantly.
“What is what? Do you know how vague that was?” You puffed your cheeks out in frustration, face hot and eyebrows furrowed.
“Your name.” He crossed his arms over his chest, eyes holding as much resistance as yours did. “I won’t let you go until you tell me it.”
Your face dropped with exasperation, and when he didn’t speak, you let out a dramatic groan. “You’re insufferable. It’s (Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).”
Sirius flashed a cheeky grin. “I know.” He stepped aside, gesturing for you to go.
“But, you said.. You know what? I don’t have time for this!” You shoved past him, stomping furiously towards the snack stand.
“It’s Sirius, by the way!”
“I know who you are!”
You wrapped your arms around yourself tighter, glowering as you approached the little shack outside the Quidditch stands. Two house-elves bustled around inside, conjuring food from the castle kitchen and handing it to the waiting students. You waited your turn, smiling softly at the elf when you reached the counter. “Hi, Findlay. Can I get two Cornish pastries, two raspberry scones, and three pumpkin juices?”
“Yes, miss!” Findlay repeated your order to the second elf, despite her being right behind him.
The second elf waved her hand, and the food appeared. She put the pastries and scones in a little paper box and closed the top, setting it on the counter before she went back and grabbed the cups filled with pumpkin juice.
“Thank you so much,” you said softly, pulling your wand from your pocket. You lifted the cups in the air and grabbed the box with your freehand, making your way back to the stands. You managed not to spill anything, lowering the cups onto the bench next to Mary and Olivia. Mary looked a bit better, sitting upright by herself and smiling. “I got you a Cornish pastry,” you hummed, sitting down and opening the box. “And I got Olivia two raspberry scones!” You handed the sweets to Olivia, who was beaming.
“You know me so well, (Y/N/N), I swear.” She took a big bite and sighed in delight.
“So what was that all about?” Olivia motioned towards Sirius, who had taken a spot next to Lily. He noticed the pair of you staring, sending a wink your way that made you shiver with detest.
You grunted, lips puckering as you stared into your cup. “Just his usual grimy tendencies.”
Suddenly, Mary began rapidly smacking your leg. Her other hand pointed towards the grass, crumbs falling from her pastry as she emphasized her point. “Merlin’s beard, look!”
You looked at the field and nearly choked. James had dropped his broomstick and was in the process of removing his gloves as he stormed towards Antonin Dolohov, who had also landed.
“Oh my God, they’re going to fight,” Olivia exclaimed, jumping up to get a better view. You and Mary followed suit, watching intently.
Sure enough, Dolohov barked something you couldn’t hear, and James connected his fist with the male’s face. Both boys exchanged hits, rolling around the grass like fighting dogs. The rest of their teams landed and attempted to break them up, but they continued to wrestle. Hooch blew her whistle and ran towards the two, deducting House points left and right.
Sirius, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew joined the crowd surrounding the brawl, and Sirius successfully pulled James away. Even from the stands, you could see the blood pouring from James’s split lip. Dolohov looked worse, with a growing lump on the side of his head and a bloody nose.
The Quidditch announcer called off the match, and everyone in the crowd groaned and protested. You picked up your food and sighed, looking at Mary. “Let’s go meet Nadeen. I’m sure she’s narked.”
“Absolutely ridiculous!” Nadeen threw her broomstick onto the ground, ripping her gloves from her hands and tossing them down as well. “We were winning, Potter!”
You could heard her shrieking halfway down the field as your group weaved through the surrounding crowd to reach her.
“He needed his ass kicked,” James barked, spitting out the blood that seeped into his mouth. The sight of him a little roughed up and angry sent warm tingles down your stomach. You quickly looked back to Nadeen, ignoring the oncoming timidness of being so close to James.
“You did good while it lasted, Dee,” Mary smiled sweetly, placing a hand on the lighter girl’s shoulder. Nadeen shrugged it off, focusing her glower on James.
“We nearly had it, had someone been able to behave!”
“Keep yapping, and you’ll be running laps around the Whomping Willow next practice,” James warned, only half-heartedly joking. He perked up when he saw Lily making her way through the crowd, frown curling up into a cheesy smile. He looked back at your friends, and then you, before walking away with a simple, “See you around, ladies.”
Your heart fluttered at the minuscule eye contact you’d made with him, and you couldn’t help but let a smile plaster your face. Nadeen awoke you from your dreamy gaze as she snapped her fingers in front of your face.
“You’re ogling again. Come on, I want to get out of here.”
Mary and Olivia wrapped their arms in Nadeen’s, walking with her as she made her way off the field. You faltered for a second, casting a weary glance over your shoulder as you heard Lily begin to bicker with James about representing Gryffindor and acting his age. You sighed, shaking your head. She didn’t understand him. His passion for Quidditch was clearly evident in his actions, and you’d only wished you had a hobby as such. But, she only saw immaturity and primal instincts.
“Come on, (Y/N)! Catch up!”
“Coming!” You yelled back, leaving your love in the dust.
Back in the common room, you sunk into the loveseat in front of the fireplace. You watched your friends giggle and gossip as they relaxed from a winding Saturday. You had nothing to add to their blooming conversations about who liked who and what happened in the boys’ washroom in the North corridor. Your mind wandered itself into tangles about your studies, James, and your onset discomfort around the castle.
Hogwarts, a home away from home, began to feel cold and unwelcoming. Whether you were walking through the courtyard, or studying in the library, the feeling of unease never left you. While Mary offered her utmost sympathies to you, you knew she couldn’t fathom the feeling of feeling out of place. Even when her blood status was the hot topic of the hour, she never once faltered from her belief that Hogwarts loved everyone.
Whether the feeling stemmed from the growing concern of your current schoolmates crossing over to the enemy, or your growing broken heart, you secretly wished you’d stayed home this year.
“Is everything alright, (Y/N)?” Mary plucked you from your thoughts, dark eyes softly looking you over. “You’ve been quiet ever since the Quidditch match.”
You offered a weak smile, pulling yourself to your feet. “I’ve just been thinking about that paper for Binn’s class. I think my second paragraph is entirely off topic.” You smoothed out your skirt, starting to walk towards the stairs towards your dorm. “I think I need to rewrite it.”
“Do you need any help? I’ll let you read mine,” Olivia offered, sitting up in her seat to stand up.
“No, that’s alright,” you quickly shot her down, desperately wanting to be alone with your thoughts. “I’m just going to grab my books and head to the library. I’ll see you all at dinner.”
Your friends all exchanged confused glances as you quickly sprinted up the stairs, feeling out of place in your own skin.