Resposts

The infamous group of four enter the great hall and the conversation temporarily comes to a stop as they scan the Gryffindor table, weighing the odds of where to sit. James is about to let the other three decide when hears your voice cut through the chaos that is lunch hour.

“Are you mad?” You shriek.

James doesn’t know whether it’s out of shock or anger, but he’s determined to find out. He walks past his friends, not knowing or caring if they followed, and makes his way to where you were sitting.

“Hey ladies.” James greets with an easy smile as he reaches the table, watching in amusement as you try to hit Lily’s shoulder only for her to dodge it.

He gets a chorus of hello’s in return as the rest of the marauders join him.

“So who’s gone mad?” He asks, starting to serve himself food. “What are we talking about?”

“Perfect timing gentlemen!” Dorcas announces, clasping her hands together. “We were just in the middle of discussing Y/N’s-“

“Nothing!” You exclaim, cutting her off with a pointed look. “We were talking about my nothing.”

Dorcas holds her hands up in surrender, biting her lip as she lowers her gaze.

You let out a sigh of relief.

“We were talking about Y/N’s crush!” Dorcas squeals excitedly, unable to contain herself.

“Dorcas!” You whine, covering your face in embarrassment.

James, on the other hand, chokes on his water.

“Sorry?” He wheezes, hoping someone will elaborate.

“What? We were!” Dorcas defends.

“Yeah, but I didn’t wanna tell them!”

“Oi! That’s not fair, love. I always tell you about my crushes.” Sirius complains with a pout.

“I don’t ask you to. In fact I specifically ask you not to.” You deadpan. “Besides, it’s a different girl every day. Those aren’t crushes, those are conquests.”

“Pish posh.” Sirius waves you off, taking a bite of his chicken. “Now spill the beans. What’s his name?”

“Pads,” You sigh exasperatedly. “I really don’t want to-“

“Chris.” Marlene interrupts.

“From Ravenclaw?” Remus asks before nodding his head in approval.

“Ravenclaw?” Sirius repeats, brows furrowing as he tries to think before his eyes widen in realization. “Wait, you mean quidditch Chris?”

“The very one.” Lily confirms with a nod.

“Not to be weird, but he’s pretty cute.” Peter comments casually.

“Isn’t he?” You gush, covering your mouth with your hand. “Not just that but have you heard him laugh?”

You don’t give anyone at the table a chance to answer before you continue rambling.

“He like, closes his eyes when he laughs and it comes out high pitched? Which is odd because you know, he’s a guy so naturally he has a deep voice; but it suits him! It’s so…joyful. It’s soooo cute. But I think he’s kind of insecure about it because sometimes he’ll be laughing and like, he’ll catch himself and try to stop but even then he’ll still be giggling which is even cuter! And ughhh, what do I do?” You groan, covering your face with your hands.

“Have you told him?” Remus asks curiously.

“What? That I like his laugh? Of course I haven’t.” You shake your head.

“Why not?” Sirius chimes in.

“Because it’d be weird!”

“No it wouldn’t.” He assures. “It’s a compliment. Everyone loves being complimented.”

“But- I- What do I do?” You stammer. “Just walk into alchemy and announce to the whole class that I like his laugh? That’s mental!”

“Well, no.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Obviously you’d talk to him first.”

“See that’s the thing, Padfoot…” Dorcas says.

“Talk to him?” You repeat, wide eyed. “Are you kidding me? I can’t talk to him!”

“Why not?”

“I’m shy…” You bashfully admit.

Everyone at the table erupts into laughter and you stubbornly cross your arms.

“Y/N, I’ve known you since first year.” Remus reminds you fondly. “I could think of a million words to describe you. Shy definitely isn’t one of them. Right, Prongs?”

James shoots Remus a subtle glare, rubbing his side where he’d been elbowed before turning his attention to you.

“Yeah! I mean, how hard can it really be? You’re not shy around me! You talk to me nonstop.” He nods happily.

“Wha- that’s totally different!” You argue. “I don’t like you!”

“Oh.” James says simply, caught off guard by the statement.

“Wait, wait, wait. That’s not what I meant.” You rush to explain. “Of course I like you.” You assure him. “But it’s totally different!”

“How’s it different?” James asks, tilting his head the tiniest bit.

“Well, I mean Chris is a man.” You shrug.

A few of your friends snicker in amusement and Peter’s jaw actually drops open.

“Wowwwww.” James complains.

“Way to make it worse.” Sirius teases.

“Oh, shut it.” You scold, tossing your balled up napkin at him.

“I’m a man.” James insists, voice cracking at the last syllable.

“Of course you’re a man, Prongs.” You assure, carefully thinking about your next words. “But you’re not my man… like, for me…”

This time Peter and Remus start snickering, finding James’ distraught expression and your struggle for words incredibly amusing.

“Not that I want you to be!”

“Ouch, love.” Sirius comments, thoroughly enjoying the show.

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s different!” You stress.

“How?” Peter asks curiously.

“It just is!”

“But how?” James presses, taking the ego hit personally. “We’re both on the quidditch team, we both have good marks-“

“I don’t understand why you’re comparing yourselves as if it’s some sort of competition.”

“Hear that, James?” Lily teases, joining in on the fun. “She said you’re not even in the competition.”

Sirius, Peter, and Remus all burst into laughter while James pouts pathetically.

“Awe, James.” You coo, cupping his face affectionately. “You’re cute.”

James smiles at the compliment, cheeks appearing smushed as you’re still gingerly holding his face in your hand.

“But Chris is a love interest! A possibility!” You clarify.

“As opposed to?” He asks.

“You.”

James gives you a deadpan look.

“Y/N?” Sirius calls.

“Yeah?”

“Stop talking.” He all but begs.

“Yeah…” You agree.

The professors announce that lunch is over and you all start to gather your books, preparing to head to your next class.

“Jokes aside, I love you James. You know I do. But it’s more of a platonic love.” You tell him as you all start to make your way out of the great hall. “I’m not saying that there’s anything wrong with you, because there isn’t! It’s just-“

“I’m not a man.” James cuts you off, giving you a weak smile.

“Tosser.” You scold teasingly, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. Stay out of trouble.”

“We make no such promises!” Sirius calls after you as you turn the corner and disappear. Once you’re out of sight he turns his attention to James.

“That was painful.” He grimaces.

“You’re telling me.” James sighs, loosening his tie. “I felt as if I couldn’t breathe.”

“The girl you’ve fancied since the start of seventh year just spent all of lunch telling you how much she doesn’t like you, how are you still alive?”

“I dunno, mate.”

“I take it you're throwing in the towel, then?” Remus asks.

“Fuck no.”

“Then what?” Peter asks, looking up at him.

“I don’t know yet…” James tells them. “But gimme some time. I’ll think of something.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

James walks out of the bathroom, wiping his lenses on his pajama shirt when Peter calls out to him.

“Prongs, mail.”

James looks up excitedly, putting his glasses on and running across the room, grabbing the parcel.

“It’s quite thick. What is it?” He asks curiously, noting that it was bigger than a letter but smaller than a package.

James hastily rips open the envelope, holding the item up as if it were a trophy.

“Yes! Thank you dad!”

“What is it?” Sirius asks, tossing himself onto his bed. “A playboy?”

“No!” James immediately denies. “It’s just a magazine he’s subscribed to. I glanced at the cover when it arrived over break and asked him if he still had it.”

“Okay…” Sirius nods. “Why’d you want that specific issue?”

“Because- there’s an article I want to read.” James answers, quickly flipping through the pages. “Aha!”

Sirius, Remus, and Peter huddle around the magazine, wanting to see what the article’s about.

“Oh fuck off.” Sirius huffs, going back to his bed.

“You’re joking.” Remus says. “Right? You’re having a laugh?”

“Become the man of her dreams in 3 easy steps.” Peter reads aloud.

“Guys, at least give it a chance.” James defends, holding the magazine up. “They wouldn’t publish just anything.”

“Yeah they would.” Sirius says.

“It happens more often than you’d think.” Remus adds, putting on his robes as he prepares to do his rounds. “I’d say you’re better off chasing her shamelessly like you did Evans than following whatever that gossip column says.”

Peter and Sirius burst into laughter as Remus walks out the door.

“Yeah, alright. Laugh it up.” James remarks. “We’ll see who’s laughing when it works.”

“If it works.” Sirius warns.

“When it works.” James corrects. “It’s a new crush. What’s it been? A week? Less? I can totally steal her away from him.”

“Can you?” Peter asks, not looking up from his comic book. “Because she doesn’t even fancy you. At all. Remember?”

“Yes, Wormtail, I remember. I was there.” James nods.

“Why do you have to steal her anyway?” Sirius asks. “You’ve fancied her since the start of the year. You had months to make a move.”

“Can you guys keep it down?” James asks instead, drawing the curtains from his bed. “I’m trying to read and you’re kind of distracting me.”

“Sorry.” Peter apologizes.

“Wanker.” Sirius says childishly.

James sticks his hand out from behind the curtain and flicks him off.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Step One: Put an effort into your appearance. Women do not want to date slobs. Just as women prim and pamper themselves daily, men too should take grooming seriously and put thought behind their outfits. Do note that doing too many changes at one time is cause for alarm as the female gaze is more observant. Instead one should spread out their changes through time.

Somehow James had gone the whole day without running into you once. He dejectedly walks back to the Gryffindor Tower after his rounds, thinking that he wasted time doing his hair for nothing, only to bump into you in the common room.

“Hey.” He greets, standing up straight. “You’re doing rounds tonight?”

“Yeah. I’m covering for someone.”

“Oh. Lame.” James nods, only for his eyes to widen when he realizes what he’s just said. “I mean, it’s lame that they bailed! Not that you’re doing rounds. That’s ni- that’s a nice thing for you to do. To take someone’s shift.”

You throw your head back in laughter and only then does James stop his rambling.

“No, you’re completely right. It is lame.” You nod. “But no one else was available.” You shrug.

“Well, I hope it goes quickly for you.”

You don’t acknowledge what he’s just said. You’re too busy analyzing his appearance to even think of answering him. The more you stare at him, the more uncomfortable he feels, smile dropping and feet shuffling as he finds it hard to keep still.

“Did you cut your hair?” You finally ask.

“Huh?”

“Your hair.” You reiterate. “You cut it?”

“N-no.” James shakes his head. “Just combed it.”

He shrugs before running his hand down the back of his head, hoping it casually draws attention to his neat hairdo. And it does. Gone are his wild, curly locks. Instead they’re neatly styled up and away from his face, giving him a sleek and polished look. With James no longer hiding behind his hair, his sharp features really stand out like his bright eyes and defined cheekbones.

James sees your eyes bouncing all over his face, taking in his features. He watches as you gaze at his new hair, then his eyes, then his lips?? Before bringing your gaze back up again.

Keep it cool, Prongs. He thinks to himself. Stay cool.

You have a slight furrow between your brows and your bottom lip is jutted out just slightly, a telltale sign that you’re thinking. James is starting to think that maybe the lads were right when finally, you nod.

“Looks good.” You say simply before heading out to do your rounds.

As soon as the coast is clear, James raises a hand in victory.

“Yes!” He whispers to himself before clearing his throat and straightening out his robes. He walks to the dorms with a bounce in his step.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Since that night in the common room James has kept up the habit of styling his hair into a neat quiff. While at first he hated waking up early, he’s since gotten used to it. After that first night you didn’t mention his hair again, but he has noticed you staring at him quite often. This encourages James to start applying cologne as well. Not much, just a tiny spritz because “a little goes a long way, Prongs for fucks sake.”

He’s so lost in his head that he doesn’t even see you walk into class, snapping out of his spiraling only when you pull your seat out, your chair scraping against the cold dungeon floor.

“Good morning James,” You smile politely, taking a seat in your chair and then scooting forward.

James sits up straight in his seat and clears his throat before speaking.

“Morning.”

You smile sweetly at him again before turning your attention to your school bag, digging out your parchment and ink well. You look up a moment later with a focused stare and scan the room.

“You okay?” James asks, worried something might be wrong.

“Yeah.” You answer absentmindedly. “Just…” you trail off, continuing to scan the class.

“Just?” James repeats, hoping you’ll elaborate.

You lean across the aisle, closer to the classmate setup at the station to the right of you before returning to your seat with a frown.

“Y/n?” James asks.

You turn your head slightly towards him and take a small breath in. Then you turn your full attention to him.

“Are you wearing cologne?” You ask, completely ignoring his previous question.

“I uh- yeah.” He stammers. “My dad sent it to me…figured I might as well-”

“It smells good.” You cut him off.

“Y-yeah?” He asks.

You lean closer to him and take a deep breath while James holds his, freezing every muscle in his body, afraid to move even an inch.

“Yeah.” You answer, leaning back with a satisfied nod. “Really good. You should wear it more often.”

“Okay.” James says breathlessly.

At that moment Professor Slughorn walks in and he starts going over the lesson plan for the day.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Step two: Establish romantic intent. Men are laid back and easy going by nature. While these are good features for making friends, it can also cause problems to arise when trying to court a woman. To avoid miscommunication it is important to act with thought and intent. Flirt boldly. Be direct. And use respectful, physical touch to create a romantic, rather than platonic, connection.

“Okay, Prongs. Time for phase two. Now, we flirt. You can do this. You’ve flirted before.” James says to himself, hyping himself up as he heads toward the Black Lake. Somehow you were both paired up for rounds, and he’s looking forward to being able to talk to you away from the watchful eyes of his very nosey friends.

The prefects from Hufflepuff informed you that they had already patrolled around the quidditch pitch, so you and James decided to start by the greenhouses and then go from there. He sees you standing at the edge of the Black Lake, quietly staring at the water. He’s just about to call out to you when he remembers what the article said.

Use teasing and humor. Use respectful, physical touch.

James quietly sneaks up behind you. When you least expect it, he grabs onto your upper arms and pushes you forward before pulling you back. You immediately scream, turning around and whacking him on the arm.

“Holy fuck! Are you crazy?”

“Crazy about you.” James immediately replies.

“This isn’t funny.” You whine. “I could’ve died.”

“Nooo.” James rebuffs with a shake of his head.

“What if I had fallen in?” You argue, crossing your arms.

“That never would’ve happened.” James says matter of factly, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers.

“How are you so sure?” You ask skeptically.

James tilts his head to the side, before smiling softly, knowingly.

“Because I had you.” He shrugs simply. “When there’s something I want, I don’t let go.”

Your breath hitches at the quiet confession. You try to form some sort of reply but nothing comes out. Sensing this, James comes to a stop right in front of you, leaning forward slightly to match your height.

“I didn’t want to drop you, so I didn’t.” He says softly.

The weight of his confession is still there but James doesn’t push for an answer you don’t yet know yourself. Instead he gives you space, he gives you time. He gives you an out; and you take it.

“You scared me.” You admit with a shaky laugh.

“That was the point.” He answers truthfully, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. “We’re gonna be out here until 1:30. I need you to be alert and awake.”

“What are you talking about? I’m always alert and awake when doing rounds.” You scoff.

“Mm.” James hums, turning on his heel and starting to head towards the greenhouses. “Are you, though? Because you didn’t even hear me coming up behind you just now.”

“That’s totally different.” You argue, hurrying to catch up to him.

“Suuuure.” James agrees sarcastically.

“No, really!” You continue. “That one doesn't count! I wasn’t ready.”

“Whatever you say, beautiful.”

The nickname throws you off. So much so that you don’t see the gopher hole up ahead. Your right foot slips right in and your lurch forward. You’re prepared to fall on your face, so you’re pleasantly surprised when James is by your side in an instant, hand wrapped around your waist to keep you upright.

“You alright?” He asks softly.

He’s so close that you can feel his breath on your face. It takes you a minute to get your bearings and give him an answer.

“Yeah.” You nod. “Good catch.”

James chuckles, taking a step back and nodding.

“I told you.” He says, watching fondly as you dig your foot out of the blasted gopher hole. “I don’t let go.”

You rotate your ankle slowly, and when you don’t feel any pain, you give him a thumbs up.

“See?” You huff. “Alert and awake.”

James snickers in amusement before clearing his throat.

“Very nice. Shall we go?”

“We shall.” You nod.

“Do you wanna hold onto me?” He asks, offering his arm to you. “Since you stumbling seems to be the pattern of tonight.”

“Oh! You-“ You slap his hand away and James laughs.

“One of them was your fault!”

“You were so scared.” He laughs, mimicking your terrified shriek before turning his head to look at you.

“Awe, come on. I’m just teasing.” He consoles when he sees you pouting. “It was cute.”

“Oh yes, I’m sure me screaming my head off was a sight to behold.” You snark before walking ahead, leaving him behind.

“You always are.” James says softly before hurrying to catch up.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Step three: Show off your feathers. When courting a woman the most important thing is to not lose momentum. The second you become “comfortable” in your relationship you become friendzoned. While other men are being wishy washy and “playing it cool” it’s your time to strike. Just like a peacock, show your feathers and strut! Show her what you have to offer, who you are and what you can be!

“Y/N?”

“Hmm?” You look up and find Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas all staring at you.

“I asked about Chris.” Dorcas repeats with a smile. “You haven’t mentioned him in a while.”

“Yeah…” You trail off, finishing the sentence you were writing before putting your quill down. “That’s over.”

All three girls gasp.

“Why? What happened?” Marlene asks.

“Did he turn you down?” Lily asks, gripping her quill tighter.

“No, nothing like that.” You assure them. “I just don’t have a crush on him anymore.”

“Oh? That was sudden.” Lily comments.

“Mm, not really.” You shrug. “I didn’t really know anything about him.”

“You could’ve gotten to know him.” Marlene offers.

“Yeah…but I just didn’t want to.” You admit. “After some thought, I realized I wanted something with someone that I know. Someone who I’m comfortable with but makes my heart race at the same time. Someone who teases me one second but worries about me the next.”

“Wow. Sounds like you already have someone in mind.” Dorcas says.

You try and fail to hide your smile.

“Maaaybeee…” You tell them bashfully.

“Who?” Lily asks.

“Is it someone we know?” Marlene adds.

“Yeah, actually.” You nod. “It’s-“

“James!”

You all turn your heads to see some girl from Hufflepuff approaching James who stands a few meters away in the middle of the courtyard.

“Yeah?” He asks, looking at the girl confusedly.

“You know how the spring equinox is next week?” She asks, playing with a lock of her hair as she gazes at him.

“Yeah…” James repeats, still just confused as he was a moment ago.

“Go to the celebration with me?” She requests, getting straight to the point.

“Wow. Um…”

“Julie.” She supplies, thinking he was asking for her name.

“Julie.” James repeats. “I’m flattered…”

He scans the courtyard, trying to buy himself some time. His eyes pass over your figure before locking onto you once more. James looks quickly between you and Julie before returning his attention to her. He remembers the article and knows what he has to do.

Be direct. Avoid miscommunication. Show off your feathers.

James stands up straight and rolls his shoulders, releasing some of the tension he was feeling.

“I’m gonna have to pass.”

“What?” She says, dropping the piece of hair she was previously toying with.

“There’s someone I’m interested in.” James tells her. As if that wasn’t clear enough, he raises his hand and points a finger in your direction. “It’s actually that girl there.”

Several gasps are heard throughout the courtyard, your friends being the loudest. Still, that doesn’t deter James from his confession in the slightest.

Don’t be wishy washy, Prongs. He thinks to himself. It’s now or never.

“Her name’s Y/N and I've fancied her since the beginning of the year. I’m planning to ask her to be my date.”

James looks past Julie, locking eyes with you and smiling sheepishly.

“Though I guess it's not much of a secret anymore, huh?” He asks, taking slow steps towards you, almost as if he’s scared you’ll run away.

“Not really.” You shake your head, smiling softly as you stand from your seat and take a tiny step towards yourself.

“Confessing your feelings for someone in the middle of a packed courtyard is quite the opposite of a secret.” You inform him, very clearly poking fun as you take another step closer.

“Oh, ha ha.” James laughs sarcastically, though judging by his fond smile it’s obvious that he isn’t bothered in the slightest.

“Awe, come on. I’m just teasing.” You assure him. Repeating his own words from that night you had rounds together. “It was cute.”

“You’re cute.” James flirts back.

You cross your arms, staring at him skeptically.

“Last time I was beautiful. Now I’m cute. What’s with the demotion?”

James rolls his eyes with a huff but grabs your hands nonetheless.

“You are beautiful.” He confirms with a nod. “And cute.”

You beam at him.

“And I meant what I said.” James clarifies, leaving no room for doubt. “I really, really like you.”

“So do I.” You admit shyly, swinging your clasped hands.

James smiles at the confession before it turns into a mischievous grin.

“Really? Even though I’m not a man?”

It takes you a moment to register what he’s just said, and when you do, you can’t help but let out an incredulous laugh.

“Oh my gods. Are you serious right now?”

“What? I was just asking.” He manages to say in between giggles.

“You are so annoying.” You tell him, shaking your head.

“You love it.”

“Alright, so this line here is your head line,” he whispered, lips jutting in concentration. “Based on my interpretation, you are the sort of person who learns by doing something. You gain more knowledge by going through things…and this here,” he added, softly tracing the lines on your palm.

“It says that you have a strong sense of purpose, very much like me,” he flashed you a grin, and then a perfectly done wink that had your heart pummeling against your chest.

If he hadn’t been right about the purpose part, you would have smacked him hard on his head—called him something that would have him lying dramatically on the floor like some fatally wounded warrior. But he wasn’t, so you opted to just bite your tongue and roll your eyes.

“Oh, and—and someone will come! Maybe they already have!” He flashed another grin at you, and you couldn’t help but let your curiosity pique at his words.

“Is it love?” you questioned, a small grimace pulling at your face.

It’s not like you don’t want to have your possible romance read, you’re just not sure if James Potter was the credible reader for it. Nonetheless, you let him do his own magic, choosing to watch him in silence instead.

He ran the rough pad of his thumb on your palm, seemingly mulling over your question. “I’m not sure…but let me look into it further.”

You nudged a brow, silently requesting him to continue, to which he obliged with an enthusiastic nod of his head.

“It says here that this person is the one destined for you; maybe someone who could thaw your heart? I am not sure, but it surely looks like one.” Your brows furrowed at his words, not really certain if the professor had mentioned any detailed findings in regards to palm reading.

“That’s oddly specific, isn’t it?”

“It is, but I think it’s because I am highly gifted in divination.” He beamed up a smile, teeth flashing under the golden glow of the lamps that surrounded the classroom.

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t even—”

“Shh!!” He suddenly interjected, pushing a finger toward your parted lips. “I think I see something.” He mumbled, voice dropping an octave.

“This person that will come into your life would surely sweep you off your feet. They will definitely make you feel like you’re the only woman in the world. I am also seeing that this person would challenge you, in a positive way, of course.” His gaze lifted, colliding with yours like stars exploding in space.

“Is that so..?”

“Yep, do you wanna know who that person is?” He leaned closely, breath mingling with yours. There was an undeniable tug in your chest at your proximity, a tingle that ran down your spine that made you somehow shiver despite the summer heat pricking at your exposed skin.

“I think I could see a boy,” he traced your palm again, but his eyes were still fixed on yours. “Tall, wears glasses, and I think he likes to be on air? Maybe something with Quidditch? And also, loves his friends so much, family oriented and also is very creative. Very spontaneous too. Handsome. And did I mention tall?”

The moment the word glasses slipped past his lips—you already knew that James Potter was shitting on you. He had said it so confidently, too, sporting a wide grin as if he hadn't just shamelessly and blatantly described himself as your lover.

You pulled your hand away, but as if he had already sensed what you were about to do, he curled his fingers around it—and then held it tightly.

“I am also seeing his initials, I think J—”

“And I think you’re about to lose your vision if you don’t stop right now.” You gritted, cheeks and ears turning hot.

“JFP. And I think he’s about to ask you to go to Hogsmeade in about,” he paused, pushing the sleeves of his robes to reveal his golden wristwatch, all the while brandishing a bright smile that made your stomach drop. “Two seconds.”

It takes you all of two seconds to come up with a plan, standing and running after your professor and James. You don't excuse yourself from the table, but you doubt the girls will mind. They're already rounding the corner out of the great hall by the time you catch up, feet thumping on the concrete floor in your hurry. You can hear McGonagall speaking in sharp tones about how James has taken it too far this time, he's always taking it too far, and she's not even sure how to begin punishing him for this.

James Potter is an idiot. Everyone knows this. He's smart - which is the kicker. He passes all his classes with ease, always hands his homework in on time, helps first years with their essays, and can point you to almost any book in the library. He's well educated. But he's an idiot. He doesn't use common sense, doesn't know when enough is enough, and he pulls off reckless and dangerous pranks without a second thought. You shouldn't be so attracted to it. You shouldn't feel your heart beating out of your chest every time you see his signature 'I'm about to do something really dumb, right now' smile and you shouldn't come running to his rescue every time he gets caught.

But the thing about James Potter is - as much as he's an idiot, as stupid and reckless and arrogant and annoying as he is, he's also charming. And handsome. And lovely. And beautiful. And pretty. He has a heart the size of the black lake, even though he has an ego to match. And you can't help it. He's just so.

"Professor!" You call after them, close enough to not really have to shout, but you need to at least play the part convincingly.

There's a classroom on the 7th floor corridor. It's been infested with Cornish Pixies for years, sealed off by McGonagall herself. Everyone knows that's why the classroom is abandoned, and for years, everyone has stayed as far away from it as possible. McGonagall turns around in a flash, murmuring an apology to James who trips over his footing to avoid twisting the arm that's still firmly in her grip.

"I just overheard some of the Slytherin's saying they were going to release the Cornish Pixies from the seventh floor in retaliation!" You fake heave a breath, to make it sound like the utmost of importance.

It helps, you think, that a group of yelling Slytherins pass behind you, heading straight for the stair case in their fluffy pink robes. A smirk passes across James' face, a knowing one, and it makes your knees wobble and your cheeks redden. He's an evil boy, because he notices, and you see the interest sparkle in his eyes.

McGonagall goes pale, and lets go of James at once, eyes wide, "Thank you for telling me," She turns to James, who has the audacity to look guilty, now, "I'll find you later, Mr. Potter."

James nods and waits until the professor has swept off up the stairs in a hurry before he's dragging you behind one of the tapestries. You go willingly, enjoying the warmth of his fingers on your wrist, the smell of his cologne, woodsy and sweet at the same time. He turns and faces you when the tapestry swishes closed behind you both, crowding your space in an instant.

"Are the Slytherins really going to release the Pixies?"

You feel your face redden, "No."

His jaw ticks as he smiles, "You just saved me from a right rollocking, you know that?"

You absolutely detest this part. The part where he makes sure you know just how weak you are for him, how willing you are to abide his boyish pranks as long as he gets you in this situation; flushed and kissable. You hate how much you want him to kiss you, how needy it makes you feel.

"Shut up and kiss me, James. Before McGonagall comes back and gives us both detention."

His lips are on yours in an instant, hot and heavy and rushed and the breath gets caught in your throat. His right hand sits firm on your jaw, thumb pressing into your pulse point, and his right grips at the side of your hip, holding you close to him. James is a good kisser. It's a sick and twisted fact, and you think that a part of you knows whenever you come to rescue him from whatever consequences amount from his own stupid actions, the fact that it always ends like this is what keeps you coming back.

He's got you pushed up against the wall, his weight pressing down on you, right leg between yours and you're finding it hard to remember yourself.

Until Sirius appears, letting out an undignified yelp as he yanks the tapestry closed. Apparently, it garners Remus' attention, who's eyes are curious when he finds you and James sheepishly standing side by side, lips swollen and cheeks red.

Remus watches warily as several students turn to track the progress of the disk as it sails overhead, and after a moment one breaks away, chasing after it. Remus feels a pang of sympathy for you, your yellow and black scarf flying behind you as you run, needing no further evidence than the eager look in James’ eyes to know that you’ve fallen for a trap. 

You jump up to grab it out of the air, beaming in triumph for a moment before a yelp escapes you. You fling your catch to the ground, cradling your hand as the fanged frisbee twitches and snarls at your feet. 

“Shit,” he hears Sirius breathe, and the excitement is gone from his and James’ expressions as they jog over to you, Remus standing to follow them. 

You pick your head up as they approach, eyes wet but fierce. 

“What the hell?” you snarl, and Remus realizes with a stab of concern that there’s a small puddle of blood forming in your palm. “You’ve begun targeting your stupid pranks at anyone who’s dumb enough to help you now? How’s that funny?”

Remus looks at his friends in bewilderment, aggrieved on your behalf but unable to believe they’d do something so cruel. The fanged frisbee—a cheap trick, which really should be banned in Remus’ opinion—twitches closer to your ankle, and Sirius flicks his wand at it, its teeth retracting as it goes silent and motionless. 

“We…I charmed it so its teeth would be dull and harmless.” James scrubs a hand through his hair, at a loss. “It was only supposed to scare you, not hurt you.” 

You shake your head at him disbelievingly and bite your lip, face reddening as the pain sets in. James steps closer to you, blocking you from view of the small crowd of gawking students, none of whom, Remus notes with some bitterness, have come to help you or see if you’re okay. 

“I’m really sorry,” James says softly. “Let me help.” But when he reaches for your hand, you step back, holding it close to your chest. 

“Just leave me out of your fun in the future, yeah?” you hiss, stalking inside. 

James looks pained as he watches you go, and though Remus doesn’t begrudge you your justified anger, he feels for his good-natured friend. It had been an honest mistake, though the cost turned out to be far higher than either of his friends had expected. But knowing James, he’ll find some way to make it right. 

“Sorry, mate. They can’t all be winners.” Sirius claps him on the back, and Remus knows his light tone is more to make James feel better than it is true carelessness. Sirius is loyal that way; he’d probably lock you in a broom closet rather than have you upset James again. 

“It wasn’t meant to hurt anyone,” James says quietly.

Sirius’ smile is unfaltering, though Remus spies the worry in his eyes. “She’ll get over it. C’mon, there’s still time to go into Hogsmeade if we hurry.” 

And though Remus hopes you’ll feel better soon, he knows it will take James a long time to get over it himself. 

James shuffles from foot to foot, feeling silly and anxious as he waits for someone to leave the Hufflepuff dorms so he can go inside. He’s fairly sure you’re supposed to have potions together, but you hadn’t shown up to class, and though James had kept an eye out all day in the hallways, he’d never spotted you. He’d thought he’d caught a glimpse of you in the great hall during lunch, but you’d darted out of sight before he could be sure, and then there’d been no sign of you at dinner. Luckily, it had only taken a quick consultation of the map he shared with his friends to find out that you’d holed up in the Hufflepuff common room, so here he was, draped in his invisibility cloak and fidgeting like a nervous date at your front door. 

The door creaks open, and James slips in before it can shut, the exiting Hufflepuff shivering slightly at the breeze he makes whisking by them. It’s not difficult to spot you where you’re sitting painting your nails, lips pursed just slightly in concentration. The common room is mostly empty as other students enjoy the nice weather outside, and James is grateful for the privacy as he takes off the cloak and goes to sit beside your feet where they’re stretched out on the couch. 

You look up at the intrusion and startle to find James, pulling your feet closer to you reflexively. He hopes it’s an instinct to make room for him and not to protect yourself from him, though given recent events he could hardly blame you for the latter. 

“What’re you—how did you get in here?” you ask, eyes darting between James and the door in bafflement. 

Never mind that. “You weren’t at dinner,” James says, holding out his small stolen dish of chicken curry, “so I thought you might be hungry. Sorry, it’s barely warm now.” 

You take it from him suspiciously, careful of your wet nails, and James feels a stab of guilt at the sight of your bandaged hand. 

“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he goes on, throat burning with shame. “I know I’ve already said it, but it was supposed to be harmless. I wasn’t careful enough.” 

You don’t look at him, not rejecting his apology but not quite accepting it either. “Pomphrey fixed it good as new anyways, so we can just say it never happened.”

James appreciates the attempt to ease his conscience, but your kindness only makes him feel that much more villainous. This would be so simple if you were one of those pureblood gits, or even just a bit ruder, but you’re you, and that’s so much worse. 

“Can I see it?” he asks softly, and you hesitate only a moment before scooting a bit closer and extending your hand to him, palm up. 

James unwraps the bandage with care, keeping one eye on your face to ensure he’s not hurting you, and so he notices the faint blush that colors your cheeks as he cradles your hand in his. The last layer of your dressing falls away, revealing three tiny white scars. Though they’re healed over, he hisses in sympathy, drawing your hand further towards him protectively but forgetting you’re attached to it. 

Your inhale is soft as you lean forward awkwardly, and James huffs a laugh at his enduring idiocy. “Sorry, love,” he says, letting you lean back. He doesn’t let go of your hand, though. “Were they deep?”

You give a one-shouldered shrug, as though it’s nothing to you. James worries you’re putting on a performance of exaggerated blasé for his benefit. “They bled a lot, but a charm sealed them up quickly enough.”

James nods, remembering with sickening clarity the blood that had pooled in your palm and dripped from between your fingers. 

“I’m glad,” James says, and it doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing feels like enough. But he can’t stop himself, even if it’s all inadequate. “I’m really sorry.” 

You sigh, and James knows enough about you to guess that being upset is exhausting you. It isn’t in your nature; you’re someone who always has a kind word for everyone, who he’s seen lend your quill to a student that forgot theirs and offer them an understanding smile when they broke it, who would rather spend all day avoiding James than let him feel the wrath of your grudge. 

Your very warranted grudge, by the way. 

It’s terrible luck that someone as sweet as you was on the receiving end of his mistake. But, as you’d pointed out, that was how the prank was designed, wasn’t it? Though James and Sirius hadn’t thought that part through at the time, the victim was always going to be whoever stepped forward to help. Normally it might not matter, but they’d gotten so caught up in the excitement of trying out their new toy that James had somehow gotten the spell wrong. And as a result, you’d been forced to pay a price for your kindness and his incompetence. 

“It’s okay,” you say.  

“It’s not,” James insists. “And I can’t fix it, but let me do something else. I can do your potions’ homework for the rest of the year, I can give you my dessert every night, I can…I can sneak into Hogsmeade and bring you whatever you want, anytime you ask, I can…what?”

You’re smiling at him, and it’s familiarly lovely but, James can’t help but think, entirely undeserved. 

“I don’t need any favors from you, James,” you say, and he realizes it’s the first time you’ve said his name. It’s not a long name, but somehow your voice gives it a cadence he quite likes. “Just be more careful, okay? I ended up fine, but next time someone might not.” 

“There won’t be a next time,” he promises swiftly, and means it. “But sweetheart—” if he notices how you soften at the endearment, he doesn’t mention it “—you’ve gotta let me make it up to you somehow.”

You sigh again, though it’s lighter this time, seemingly both exasperated and amused by his persistence. After a moment spent within your own head, you ask, “Could you help me study for the potions exam next week?”

“Yes!” James grins eagerly. “Of course. That’s a start. How’s tomorrow after class? I’ll bring study snacks as well, and we can make it a regular thing, if you like.” 

He’d like to make it a regular thing, debt or not. 

You smile. “Tomorrow is perfect. And can I call in another favor right now?”

If James weren’t sitting, he’d buckle at the knees in relief. “Yes. I’m at your service.”

“Can you tell me how you got into the Hufflepuff common room?”

Metal hits the bridge of your nose for the fourth time since James hooked one leg on either side of your waist, and you reach up to snatch the spectacles off of your face.

"That's it. You're done."

"No!" James grabs for the glasses, gentle but insistent as he tries not to crush them, "No, darling please, I want to see you!"

"You want to see me, James?" You huff, an insistent ache between your thighs at the perpetual friction against your clothed crotch as James lazily grinds down onto you, "I'm sure there's a big bruise on my face now, you want to see it?"

"They haven't bruised your face," James has managed to snatch his glasses back and he balances them precariously on his nose once more, the nosepads already sliding down his sweat-beaded face, "You look lovely darling. You look pissed, but lovely."

"If those things fall onto my face one more time, I'll snap 'em-" The rest of your sentence is lost to a moan that you can't fight back as James rolls his hips hard against yours.

You shared a glance with James, both of you trying to suppress a chuckle. The memory of your own first date flashed in your mind, and you wondered how long it would be until Harry realized that Ginny probably had him wrapped around her finger.

“She sounds wonderful, Harry,” you said warmly, leaning against James's shoulder. “You’ve got good taste.”

“Definitely an upgrade from your father,” James teased, grinning as Harry rolled his eyes, though the corners of his mouth twitched in amusement.

“I don’t know how you managed, Mum,” Harry retorted playfully.

“Well,” you sighed dramatically, glancing at James, “it wasn’t easy, but someone had to keep him in line.”

James shot you a faux-offended look, though his eyes sparkled with affection. “I wasn’t that bad.”

Harry shook his head with a laugh. “Right. Anyway, I should probably go freshen up before I eat everything in the kitchen.”

“Good idea,” you said, giving him a soft smile. “I made pancakes. They’re waiting for you.”

Harry’s face lit up as he nodded enthusiastically. “You’re the best, Mum. I’ll be down in a sec.”

As Harry made his way upstairs, the sound of his feet retreating down the hall, you felt the comforting quiet settle back into the room. You stretched, standing up from the couch and making your way into the kitchen to tidy up a bit before breakfast.

As you reached for the flour container, you suddenly felt a familiar warmth as two strong arms wrapped around your waist from behind. A contented sigh escaped you as James buried his face into your neck, his scruffy hair tickling your skin.

“Hello, darling,” James murmured softly, his voice warm and full of affection.

“James Potter,” you said in mock exasperation, though the smile on your face betrayed you. “I’m trying to work here.”

“Mhm,” he mumbled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he tightened his hold around you. “And I’m trying to distract you.”

You couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped. “Mission accomplished.”

He hummed in approval, his chin resting on your shoulder as he swayed you both gently, the scent of flour and sugar mixing with his familiar cologne. “Do you remember our first date?”

“Oh, you mean the one where you were an absolute disaster?” you teased, turning slightly to look at him over your shoulder.

“Oi!” he protested, though there was laughter in his voice. “That was… well, okay, maybe it wasn’t my smoothest moment.”

“You spilled butterbeer on me within the first ten minutes,” you reminded him, grinning as you recalled the sticky mess that had coated your robes.

James let out a groan, burying his face in your neck again. “Don’t remind me. I was nervous! You were… well, you’re you.”

You laughed, turning fully in his arms now so you could face him, resting your hands on his chest. “And you thought pouring your drink on me would impress me?”

“I panicked,” he admitted sheepishly, his hands resting at your waist as he gazed down at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “But I think I made up for it.”

“Oh? And how exactly did you make up for drenching me in butterbeer?”

James smirked. “I kissed you at the end of the night, didn’t I?”

You raised an eyebrow, feigning skepticism. “Mmm, was it a good kiss? I don’t really remember.”

James scoffed in mock disbelief, gently squeezing your waist. “You don’t remember? You said it was the best kiss of your life.”

You grinned, leaning up to peck his lips quickly. “I might’ve said that to boost your ego.”

James gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “Wounded. Completely wounded. After everything I’ve done for you, too.”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you were still smiling as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“And you love it,” he countered with a grin, dipping his head to kiss you properly this time. The kiss was slow and familiar, the kind that only years of loving someone could create. When you finally pulled away, James was still wearing that goofy smile that had made you fall for him in the first place.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t run off after that date,” he said softly, his voice losing its teasing edge.

You laughed, shaking your head. “You think spilling a drink on me would’ve scared me away? James, I think I was already in love with you by then.”

James’s expression softened as he stared down at you, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I was in love with you from the moment you insulted my Quidditch skills.”

You snorted. “You were rubbish at goalkeeping back then.”

“I wasn’t rubbish,” he protested, though his smile was wide. “I was… distracted.”

“By me?” you asked, amused.

“Obviously.” He pulled you closer, his nose brushing yours. “You were always distracting. Still are.”

You rolled your eyes, though the warmth in your chest was undeniable. “You’re so cheesy, you know that?”

James grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Only for you, darling.”

Euphemia Potter was usually one to scoff at arranged marriages, wanting the children to find love for themselves, blood status be damned. However, the L/n’s were good friends of hers and James had written home multiple times about their daughter. From his letters, it seemed as if the two were already dating. It was a perfect coincidence. Euphemia and Fleamont agreed instantly, lifting the weight of a thousand bricks off of the patriarch of the L/n household. 

However, James and Y/n were not dating. Much to James’ annoyance, the only thing between them was his unrequited infatuation towards Y/n. 

So that’s where the pair found themselves at the beginning of seventh year. Y/n L/n trying to fly under the radar and not draw any attention to herself or the new ring on her finger, and James Potter doing everything in his power to show off their relationship and spoil her in front of everyone. 

It began at the start of the year feast. James had an arm around Y/n’s shoulder the entire time. When a third year nervously asked if the two were dating, staring reverently up at James, the boy grinned and looked to Y/n. “I don’t know, love, are we?”

Y/n pushed James’ arm off her shoulder and indelicately said, “no. Take him.” The third year blushed and mumbled their way out of the conversation as James clutched his wounded heart.

During classes, James would loudly correct the professors from Miss. L/n to Mrs. Potter. It earned him wry smiles from McGonagall and Sprout, chuckles from Slughorn and Flitwick, and a cold glare from Y/n. The students all looked a bit confused whenever this happened, but chalked it up to the usual antics of James Potter. 

In the courtyard or by the Black Lake, James would lay his head on Y/n’s lap, even if she pushed him off or was sitting with her knees up. There were roses on her bed and notes in her bag and it got to the point where Y/n didn’t even question how James had snuck into her dorm. 

If Y/n ever went to Hogsmead, James was sure to follow. No matter what she bought, he would pay for. Even if she got frustrated, he would slip the galleons up onto the counter, grinning at the cashier. He wanted to show her that he could provide for her and give her a nice home. As she would walk from shop to shop, he would point out colours of shops, saying, “oh, that would be a good colour for our bathroom. Look at that little cuckoo clock! Y/n, we have to get it.”

He would follow wherever she went, asking what seemed like meaningless questions. Have you ever had any pets? Do you like the country or city better? Any aspirations for your career? What’s a place you always wanted to visit? Y/n thought nothing of it, but to James, her answers were slowly sculpting his future. Would she want a dog or a cat in our home? Where should our house be? I would like the country so our kids could run around more, but we can easily make the city work if she wants. Should I be a stay-at-home dad? Or could we juggle two careers? Where should our honeymoon be? 

Quidditch games were no better, because after every goal the chaser scored – and he scored a lot – he would look to the stands, find his fiancée, and blow her a kiss. Before every match, one of his spare jerseys would be laid out on her bed, a small note attached, begging her to wear it. She never did and he always gave her a pout when he realised it. And God forbid she didn’t go to the games. Once, she had been studying for an upcoming exam and hadn’t been able to make it. James had thrown a fit. Sirius had to drag him away from Madame Hooch before he secured an entire year of detention, but the boy still refused to get in the air. Madame Hooch threatened to start the game and make Gryffindor play a catcher down, but thankfully Remus and Peter had just found Y/n and dragged her to the pitch. The moment James saw her, he beamed and kicked off, broom now in the air. They had ended up winning. James spent the afterparty with his head on Y/n’s lap, arms reaching up to encircle her waist. He continuously reminded her how awful it would’ve been if she hadn’t shown up and only shut up when she began running her fingers through his hair.

And every night, no matter if he went to bed first or she did, James would always go over to Y/n and give her a soft kiss on the forehead and a whispered, “sweet dreams.” No matter where she was, this became a daily occurance in Y/n’s life. At first, she tried to avoid it by sneaking off to the library whenever James began yawning and tossing around the idea of going to bed. But he would find her. She tried the kitchens, hoping he didn’t think to look for her there. But he would find her. She tried being in a group with her friends, in animated conversations. But he would weave his way through the group, step in front of her, and still say goodnight. It was like he had this magical map that told him where she was at all times. It was bloody infuriating. 

Much to James’ dismay, no progress seemed to be made. At least she was staying faithful to her fiancé, the Marauders reassured him as James griped and moaned. He would sling himself onto a common room chair, conveniently in the earshot of his dearest. Y/n would just roll her eyes. 

The majority of Hogwarts didn’t know what to do with them. The girls would swoon when they heard the new thing James Potter had come up with to woo Y/n L/n. The boys would huff and grumble about needing to step up their own game when it came to their girlfriends. James was setting the bar too high. The teachers would sit around, taking time to sip a well-deserved drink, as they complained how if L/n didn’t soon see the boy that was right in front of her, helpless to his love, then Potter was going to have a breakdown.

Yet, Y/n continued to push him away. James could be patient. He had been waiting practically seven years – he could wait a little more, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t hurt whenever she brushed him off. She could’ve said no to the engagement. She could’ve punched or hexed him. It didn’t seem like she truly hated him, more like she was embarrassed and tired of him. 

“I don’t get it,” James said finally one night. He laid out on his bed, long limbs stretching over the place as Peter and Sirius played Exploding Snap on the floor. 

Remus was reading on his own bed. The werewolf sighed, knowing where this was going. “What don’t you get, Prongs?” 

“Why doesn’t Y/n like me?” James murmured, looking at his friends with large, hurt eyes. 

“Mate,” Sirius said. One of the cards exploded, making Peter flinch. “Listen. She likes you, yeah? How else are you able to get close to her? I swear, you were practically on top of her a couple days ago.” He scoffed and laid down a card. 

James groaned loudly and exclaimed, “but I’ve tried everything! Hell, we’re literally engaged! I can’t go through an entire marriage like this. Especially not with the woman I love.”

Peter piped up, smiling sincerely at James. “Hey, I’m sure she’ll realise it soon enough. I think she loves you back. She’s just scared.”

“But I’m me!” James shouted out. “I’m not scary!” He looked around wildly at his friends. “Am I?” he asked pathetically.

“I think if you have to ask if you’re scary,” Remus pointed out, “then you’re not scary.”

Sirius grinned. “Excellent point, as always, Moony.”

Remus sighed and gave James a pointed look. “Perhaps, the best thing to do is talk to her. Since she is your future wife, after all.” 

“I do talk to her!” James argued. “I ask her about her day and tell her about our pranks. She- she responds. She’s very sweet, you know, but she never shows any affection.”

“Maybe you’re pressuring her,” Peter commented. “By being all lovey-dovey. You could try being her friend first?”

James didn’t think he could do that. He already thought of Y/n as his wife. He already thought of her as one of his best friends. But what else could he do to get her to feel the same way?

The next week, James took Peter’s words into consideration. Instead of leaving flowers in her dorm, James asked if he could join her in the library for a study session. Instead of blowing her kisses during Quidditch games, he just waved. Instead of envisioning their future, he focused on the present. 

It wasn’t until three weeks had passed that James noticed the results. Y/n began coming to him with some questions on schoolwork. Y/n waved back at Quidditch games, shooting him a thumbs up in encouragement. Y/n wouldn’t fiddle with her engagement ring nervously, as if worried someone would spot it. 

The girl noticed her changed behaviour too. On a random Thursday, when James came to kiss her goodnight, she paused her conversation and whispered back, “sleep well,” angling her body so he wouldn’t have to reach as far to kiss her temple. Soon after, she excused herself from her friends, flustered. Y/n paced around her dorm, twisting the ring back and forth. 

A knock came at the door. “Hey,” James murmured as he pushed open the door. “Are you okay?”

Y/n turned to face him. “You actually care about me, don’t you?” she whispered. 

James couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course,” he replied. “Why on earth would you think otherwise?”

She shrugged. “It seemed fake, you know? Like this one big prank to single me out. But then you actually seemed excited and willing to marry me, James. Marriage. This is the rest of our lives and we haven’t even kissed!”

James cracked a smirk. He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I can fix that really easily.”

“But you think you’re in this for the long run?” Y/n asked desperately. “For- for the fights? The late nights? The chores? And we haven’t even talked if we want kids or not!”

“Love,” he interrupted her spiral. “Have you thought about the waking up every morning in my arms? The dancing in the kitchen for no reason? The anniversary dinners where I profess my love over and over again?” He stepped forward, placing his warm hands on her arms soothingly. “And if you want, I would love to have mini replicas of us running around, waking us up in the middle of the night because of a night terror. I would love for them to disrupt our dancing in the kitchen by demanding they want to dance too. And I would love for them to groan when they see me being all sappy towards my wife.”

How could any girl say no when James Potter was standing before her, promising her endless devotion? The kiss was slow, James’ lips slowly moving against hers. He revelled in the warmth of her body and how her head tilted to him as he cupped her cheek gently. All short and lovely and sweet, the kisses were exactly how James had dreamed. 

The couple parted and the boy stared down at her. His finger went up to brush her bottom lip before murmuring, “will you marry me?”

✿:his friends are surprisingly very accepting of you, you fit right in with the brains, wit, and mischief

✿: sometimes you’ll be ranting about something and James will pause you in the middle of your rant and ask you to repeat a word because “it’s not how you say it”

✿: he likes when you style his hair, even when you tell him that he should leave it natural and curly he denies before begging you to style it for him

✿: he raids your trunk to find the music you bought from home because “you have all the good stuff” which boosts your ego

✿: he liked your food, cooking is one of your best talents and he doesn’t waste a chance to let you show it off.

✿: he is confused about American fashion, he doesn’t understand why everyone is so colorfully dressed, even if it’s not particularly your style he still asks you why people do it.

✿: James likes when your read to him, especially when it’s a romance book, because to him American English is the love accent, even though to you English English is what you imagine the characters talk like.

✿: he likes that his accent rubs off on you, like sometimes you’ll accidentally slip into a slight English accent and it makes his heart soar, he doesn’t say anything because he knows you’ll try your hardest to talk normally.

✿: he tries to help you adjust to the English weather, though it is much sunnier in Hogwarts than anywhere else in England it’s still not nearly as sunny as America and when it rains for days on end your body has literal withdrawals from the sun.

✿: you (rarely ever) help him and the rest of his friends with planning pranks, especially on someone who has ticked you off and he loves it

✿: James loves your “American wit” he loves to listen to you bicker with Sirius and know that you can out wit him easily.

✿: he hates and loves when you start making girl friends, he loves watching you giggle and joke with your friends but hated that they take your attention off of him for so long, (even though when your with them he’s 90% of your conversation)

✿: James is very hyperactive as opposed to your calm and laid back demeanor, Remus always says you balance James’ (sometimes overbearing) energy perfectly

"James Fleamont Potter, what is this?"

James looked up from his coffee cup and raised his head to look at you, seeing you waving a paper envelope in front of his eyes.

"A letter?" he asked ironically.

You nodded, placing it in front of his eyes on the table and crossing your arms.

"Uh-uh. And can you tell me who it was sent by?"

James focused his gaze on the elegant writing and logo printed on the envelope.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizard-

When he realized where it was coming from, James had to double check, not having realized the first time and almost spit the coffee on you.

"From Howgwarts?!" he exclaimed, turning sharply towards you.

You nodded.

"It's strange that they called us, they only do it when it's something serious" you murmured worriedly. "What if something happened to Harry?"

James raised his arm to untie your crossed arms and grab your hand.

"Why don't we read what it's about first, mh? Maybe we're just worrying about nothing" he asked, giving you an encouraging smile.

You slowly nodded and James opened the envelope, taking out the letter and reading it on his own first. When you noticed his expression drop, you realized that maybe it really was something serious.

"Oh crap..." he muttered.

"What? What does it say?"

You came up behind him to read the contents of the letter and felt a pang in your heart when you saw what it was about.

"Oh… Oh crap indeed"

When you and James arrived at Hogwarts, some students stared at you strangely but you ignored them and walked to the main door. As soon as you opened it, you were met by Professor McGonagall, who had an expression of concern on her face equal to yours.

"Oh, i'm glad you're here my dears" she said, advancing towards you.

"Minnie, what happened with Harry?" James asked.

"Is he okay?" you continued.

The woman alternated her gaze from you to him in silence for a couple of seconds and then let out a sigh.

"Follow me" she only said, then she turned and walked down the corridor. And the more you and James walked, the more you realized that the road you were on wasn't the one to Dumbledore's office, but the one that led to the hospital wing. You and James exchanged a worried look, but you didn't say anything.

After a few minutes you arrived at the door of the infirmary and before you could enter, Minerva turned to look at you.

"We don't usually call parents, but your presence has been explicitly requested... By Lucius Malfoy himself"

At hearing that name, James didn't help himself from making a groan and rolling his eyes, while you let out a breath through your nose. This was not good.

"Great" James said annoyed.

You placed a hand on his arm and then looked back at her.

"Professor can you tell us what happened, please?"

Minerva gave you a heartened smile. Unlike your husband who always called her by that nickname, you were always more formal towards her and she always appreciated that.

"I was told that Harry and Draco have been involved in an argument a bit… Rough" the woman said cautiously. "Well, they fought after the Quidditch match"

"What?!" you exclaimed.

"Who won?!" James said with hopeful eyes.

You and Minerva turned to look at him unimpressed. James chuckled sheepishly.

"Sorry, wrong question. Harry won, didn't he?"

Minerva ignored him, looking back at you and you rolled your eyes.

"Why is Lucius here?" you asked, crossing your arms.

The teacher let out a small sigh.

"It's nothing new that your sons don't get along, but this time Mr. Malfoy insisted on discussing this situation with the parents of the person who continues to mistreat their child"

"It's not Harry who mistreats him!" James said immediately, already feeling his soul heating up with anger. "It's that brat with gelled hair that keeps provoking him, but unlike Harry, he isn't capable of defending himself!"

"James" you called, trying to calm him down.

Minerva looked at you both with a sympathetic look. It was obvious that she also supported what James said, but as a teacher she had to try to be as neutral as possible and make both students understand that they were wrong. And then, it was better not to go against the Malfoys too much.

"If you want to go, they are waiting for you" the woman only said, indicating the door with a wave of her hand.

You glanced at James and without waiting for his permission, you threw open the door, rushing into the infirmary.

"Harry James Potter!"

Harry jumped from under the covers when he heard your voice echo throughout the hospital wing.

"Damn..." he cursed under his breath.

Hermione, who was sitting in a chair next to his bed, looked at him worriedly. Standing behind her, Ron looked between him and you, terrified.

"Uh-oh. I think your mother is angry, Harry" he muttered and Harry tried to slide under the sheets, as if to hide.

The three Gryffindors saw you advance towards them, followed by James. When you were close to the bed, Hermione stood up instinctively and both she and Ron stepped back, leaving Harry alone in your jaws.

You looked him up and down, crossing your arms and tapping your foot on the floor. Harry and James exchanged a look and as Harry tried to ask him for help with his eyes, not wanting to face your fury, James looked at him with a smirk that seemed to say "You're a goner, kid".

"Mom" he murmured. "I can explain"

"Oh, but i don't need explanations my dear, because i've already been told everything" you replied.

Harry looked down, staying silent and waiting for your next move. Until... With a sigh you leaned towards him and hugged him tightly, stroking his hair with one hand.

"I'm glad you're okay, darling" you murmured.

Harry felt taken aback, but when he looked at James and saw him smile tenderly, he realized there was nothing to worry about and returned the hug. You gave him a couple of kisses on the cheek and then you pulled away and sat next to him on the mattress, leaving the chair to Hermione.

Flick!

"Ah!"

Harry narrowed his eyes when you gave him a little flick on his forehead with your finger and James chuckled.

"That's because you got into a fight" you said in a fake stern tone, but still serious.

Harry nodded solemnly, while Ron and Hermione looked at him in relief. The worst was over.

"Harry" James then said, walking up behind you and placing a hand on your shoulder. "What happened with Malfoy?"

"Darling, we were worried when we got the letter" you continued, covering James' hand with yours. "We thought something serious had happened"

"It's all Malfoy's fault!" Ron exclaimed.

You and James turned to look at him.

"Yes, he was angry because the Slytherins lost the Quidditch match and he taunted Harry as usual" Hermione continued.

You let out a small sigh.

"That little boy will never learn, will he?" you murmured. "He's only good with words. Just like his father"

James looked back at Harry, who hadn't answered his question and had remained silent, his eyes focused on the bedsheets. He was being too silent.

"There's more, isn't there?" your husband asked, getting all of you's attention.

Harry looked at him almost shyly and made a fist with his hand. Yes, there was more, but he didn't have the courage to say it.

"Harry" you called softly and he looked at you. "You can tell us everything. You know that, right?"

Harry exchanged glances with Ron and Hermione, who knew exactly what Harry wasn't going to say. She gave him a small smile of encouragement and he mouthed "Tell them" with his lips. Your son hesitated, but after a few seconds he took a breath and told the truth.

"Malfoy insulted you, mom"

You immediately felt James' hand tighten on your shoulder.

"Oh Harry-" you tried to say, but he continued.

"He called you a mudblood and he said you didn't deserve to be in the world and other stupid things"

You fell silent, but James had the opposite reaction as you.

"He said what?!"

You continued to look at your son, who huffed.

"I know you always tell me that Malfoy's words aren't worth listening to and you're right. But this time i couldn't resist, i'm sorry. I couldn't let him say those things about you"

You let out another small sigh, but then smiled slightly. You leaned towards him and caressed his cheek with one hand, gently running your thumb over the patch on the bridge of his nose.

"Harry, sweetheart. I appreciate you standing up for me, i really do. But i've learned not to care about what the Malfoys and those who think the same say about me, by now. And even if there's always you and dad, i can handle myself when i want too, anyway" you said, making him smile. "But i don't want you to get in trouble for my name again, okay? You need to prove that you're better than that"

When he nodded slowly, you raised the pinky of your free hand.

"Promise me" you ordered softly.

Harry intertwined his pinky with yours, murmuring a "I promise" and you gave him a small kiss on the forehead, while Hermione watched the scene tenderly.

"Well well well, here's the whole family reunited"

You all turned towards the new voice and both Harry and James clenched their fists when they saw Malfoy and Malfoy Jr behind him. James didn't say it out loud, but he was proud on the inside to see that Draco looked worse than Harry. He deserved it.

"Potter" Lucius said looking at James, raising his cane. "I hope you are willing to apologize to me for your son's unruly behavior"

James crossed his arms.

"None of us will apologize, because YOUR son only got what he deserved"

"And yet he only told the truth" Lucius continued, shifting his gaze to you and you glared at him. "And i'm not surprised that your son is raised this way, when his mother is nothing more than a filthy, unworthy mudblood. Pathetic"

James gritted his teeth and took a step towards him.

"Say that again, i dare you"

Behind them, Harry and Draco were also exchanging challenging glances.

"James" you called out to him, but he ignored you.

Lucius smirked and pointed the tip of his cane at you.

"That woman is scum. People like her should just die-"

SBAM!

Lucius was forced to stop when James punched him squarely in the nose, knocking him backwards.

"Father!" Draco exclaimed, frightened.

"James!" you yelled, standing up and running to him. Harry, Ron and Hermione looked at the scene with wide eyes, but also with satisfied smiles on their lips.

"Were all the beatings i gave you at school not enough for you!? Haven't you learned your lesson yet, after all these years?!" James exclaimed angrily. "You're just as vapid as your son, you're only good at giving air to your stupid mouth!"

He took a step towards Lucius, but you grabbed onto his arm, trying to pull him back.

"James no-"

"I don't give a damn if i'll go to Azkaban for what i'm about to say, Malfoy. I solemnly swear, that if i hear you or your son insult my wife one more time, you'll be the one who's going to die. I swear it"

Lucius from the floor looked at your husband with a look of disgust, wiping the blood from his nose with his thumb and James looked back with a murderous one, breathing heavily. The tension between the two men was suddenly broken by the voice of Madame Pomfrey, who was approaching the scene.

"Does this seem to be the time and place to fight you two?!" the woman snapped with anger. "This is an infirmary and you're not students anymore! Stop acting like children and leave right now!"

James and Lucius glared at each other for the last time, until the latter hastily got up and walked briskly out of the hospital wing, followed by Draco. Some students lying on the beds who had witnessed the scene, including your son and his friends, clapped and whistled in support for James. You ran a hand over your face, embarrassed at all that attention, but they were immediately shushed by Madame Pomfrey.

"You too Potter! Visiting hours are over!" she exclaimed again, waving a hand, annoyed.

When you were sure that James had calmed down, you let go of him to move closer to Harry again.

"Sorry honey, but we have to go now. We'll see you for the holidays, okay? I love you" you said quickly, kissing his head and cheek.

"Me too, mom"

You took James' hand and dragged him towards the exit, turning to look at your son one last time.

"And remember our promise!"

Those were your last words before you closed the door behind you, entering the silence of the hallway. Then you turned to your husband and gave him a small slap on the back of the head.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, immediately covering the affected spot with his hand and turning to look at you. "What was that for?"

You crossed your arms over your chest.

"You idiot! Didn't you hear anything about the speech i gave to our son??"

A few weeks later, one evening during the Christmas holidays, the Potter family and friends were all gathered in the living room of the Potter's household.

"I can't believe it AHAHAHAH!" Sirius's thunderous laughter echoed throughout the house. "Oh, how i wish i was there to see it! Y/n, you should have owled me!"

You glared at him.

"Sure, so instead of trying to convince these two-” you said, placing your hands on the heads of your husband and son. "-that arguing with the Malfoys is a waste of time, you would've only encouraged them to continue"

"And from what i understood Harry did a great job!" Sirius continued, looking at Harry, who smiled sheepishly. "Well done son, i'm proud of you"

You sat on the couch between James and Harry and the former wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulling you towards him.

"I think the only one here with any sense that understands my point of view by now is Rem"

The aforementioned gave you a small, uncertain smile.

"Well... If James, Sirius and Harry weren't there, nothing would stop me from punching Malfoy in the face. Be it the old or the young one"

You widened your eyes, feeling betrayed, while everyone else burst out laughing.

"Remus!"

Remus chuckled with red cheeks.

"Dollface, those fuckers deserved it" Sirius continued, taking a sip from his goblet. "And we are your best friends, so if anyone dares to mess with you we will not hesitate to defend you. Just accept it and it'll be easier for you"

You sighed in resignation, while James smiled, tilting his face to leave a couple of kisses on your head.

"That scene was amazing though! Iconic!" Ron exclaimed with a toothy grin. "I don't think i'll ever forget the face Lucius and Draco made"

"Dad was so cool" Harry said.

James looked at the two boys, puffing out his chest proudly.

"Well, i had to defend my woman" he said and you giggled, resting your head against his body.

"James, can i ask you a question?" Hermione asked suddenly.

"Ask away, darling"

"What did you mean by what you said to Lucius? When you asked him if all the beatings you gave him at school weren't enough. Had this already happened when you were our age?"

"Oh several times, unfortunately" Sirius replied before James could and then he continued drinking his wine.

"Y/n and Lily were often picked on by Slytherin pureblood students" Remus continued.

Harry turned to look at you with sad eyes, not knowing about the torment you had endured during your years at Hogwarts. You noticed this and gave him a thoughtful smile, reaching out to his hand and squeezing it, as if to say, "Don't worry about me, it's over now".

"But we were always there to protect them, right?" James then asked, lowering his head to look at you and when he saw your look he quickly added. "Even though they didn't need it and could handle themselves~"

"You must know, my dear kids" Sirius interjected again, referring to the three teenagers present "That the brave knight James here, was always ready to save his beloved princess Y/n. He didn't care what the consequences were"

Both you and James blushed, exchanging a loving look, while Harry, Hermione and Ron looked at you tenderly.

"And it's good to know that Harry would do the same for his mother" Remus said then. "Like father like son"

"Aah i love this family so much, i swear!" Sirius sighed, opening his arms wide and almost spilling the wine on the floor.

And everyone laughed.

Sirius only sighs. He doesn’t mean to be cruel to his closest friend.

James’ eyes flit around the room self consciously. All of his friends stare. Very unimpressed.

“What?” He repeats again, a little more desperate, a little more whiny.

“James,” Remus says gently. “Let her breathe.”

James looks to you suddenly, flames coloring his cheeks in the hue of orange light flickering off the grand fire.

It’s apparent James is embarrassed. His silence works its way into the cracks between Mary and Lily, the lulls in conversation between Remus and Sirius, until it becomes too much to handle. Sirius feels bad, he really does, but the way Remus shakes his head disappointedly fills him with something stubborn.

The vibe of the room is ruined subsequently. The boys go up to the dorm, Mary and Lily slip into their own room, shared kisses following, and you find the tangle of girls In front of the fire asleep, Marls arm tugging Dorcas closer.

“It’s okay,” you rush once everyone’s gone. “Hogsmeade sounds fun.”

“Are you sure?” James is insecure, quiet now, away from his friends ears.

You nod adamantly. “We didn’t have anything fun at Ilvermorny.”

He’s out of it now, heated in the face and embarrassed. He doesn’t mean to turn himself away from you, but his friends gnaw at him. They were well-meaning, but that doesn’t stop the green rumble of insecurity coursing through his body. He feels it so intensely he fears he may need to slip upstairs and go to sleep.

“Hey,” You murmur quietly searching for his eyes. When he gives them to you, you look up at the flushed boy through your eyebrows. “Just you and me?”

He stutters for the first time since he met you. “Yeah- uh, yeah, just me and you, sounds cool.”

You nod, leaning over to kiss the side of his mouth sweetly. He reels.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” You whisper, slipping out of the armchair.

“I’m not.” He insists.

You smile, squeezing his arm. “I know.”

He watches you walk up to your dormitory, a hunger in his eyes and a part in his lips.

“We’re not asleep.” Marlene grins. Dorcas snores and Marls opens her eyes. “Well, maybe she is.”

“Who’s your fucking daddy!” 

The boy raised the trophy above his head, basking in the cheers and the applause as he walked into the common room with a wide grin plastered across his face. Gryffindor had just won the Quidditch House Cup and James Potter was over the fucking moon, having led his team to victory for the third year in a row as captain. 

“Potter! Potter! Potter!” The crowd chanted as everyone slapped him on the back as he made his way through the crowd, standing up on the table to thrust the trophy in the air once again as the cheers washed over him and the stolen bottles of firewhiskey popped open. 

He was three drinks in with adrenaline and victory pumping through his veins by the time you made it to the party. You had promised a younger student you would help them study after the match, and despite the guilt you felt, your boyfriend only kissed you on the lips and muttered how hot it was that you were so kind before making you promise you would show up after your tutoring session. 

Now, here you were, pushing your way through drunk and cheery party-goers as you tried to locate your boyfriend.

“PADS, YOU’RE GETTING IT ALL WRONG!”

You could have snorted when you heard his voice booming over all the others, as well as the bass of the music blasting through the speakers you suspected Sirius had smuggled in from the Muggle World.

“I COULD SEE IT THE WHOLE BLOODY TIME! IT WAS RIGHT THERE AND—”

You flashed an apologetic smile as you pushed past a few more students before you saw him, standing in the middle of the circle of his friends and other students. His curls were unruly and his cheeks were flushed pink. His hands were moving animatedly as he loudly spoke, grinning as he recounted the events that led to Gryffindor winning. 

“AND I SWOOPED DOWN—” But before James could continue his story, his eyes found yours and his smile instantly widened. Not caring about the others, he pushed his way out of the circle and made his way towards you, engulfing you in his arms. “Hey, princess.” 

“Hey,” you laughed as you wound your arms around his waist, lifting your head to look up at him. “Enjoying the party?” 

“It’s better now that you’re here,” he mumbled, long gone was the booming voice and boisterous laughs, and the others could have snorted at the sight. He lifted his hand to push some hair behind your ear before he cupped your cheek. “How was your tutoring session? Lil’ Jimmy give you any trouble?”

You rolled your eyes. “He was a delight as always. Told me I was practically dating a celebrity, you know.”

James grinned. “I knew I always liked that boy.”

“Oi, Potter, you gonna finish your story?” 

But James just waved them off, muttering that someone else would finish the story before he led you towards a table where drinks and snacks had been set up. 

“What do you wanna drink? Have you eaten today? Have you eaten enough today?” James rambled off as he grabbed a paper plate, beginning to pile a large amount of food onto said plate before you stopped him.

“I’m fine,” you laughed, shaking your head. “C’mon, let’s go celebrate your win, captain.”

“Hmm, they can wait,” he murmured as he tugged you towards him once again, this time dipping his head down to kiss you. “I think you need to properly congratulate me.”

You snorted. “Yeah?”

James grinned. “Yeah.”

“Whatever you say, captain,” you teased. 

“Fuck, it’s kinda hot when you call me that.”