#am post

‘You said it was getting better Sev,’ Evans’ voice was filled with a slow burning anger that James was attuned to. It was a bit shocking, really, everyone knew that Evans had the biggest soft spot for the slimy snake, sticking up for him at every turn. As if the Slytherin had any right to her kindness, filled to the brim with dark magic as he was.

Snivellus sighed, turning an equally as unexpected glare on the Gryffindor. James felt his anger whirling away, a tornado inside of his stomach. 

He knew the prat was every bit the bastard that James had pegged him for! Of course he’d save the way he treated Evan’s for their private moments. Too scared of the retribution from Gryffindor if they knew what he did to Evans.

The grins and laughter the two shared were obviously faked, Evans just wasn’t accustomed to how awful Slytherin students were, probably got all infatuated by the first pureblood that gave her a second glance, as if James himself couldn’t treat her better, couldn’t protect her more than the git standing before them.

‘He is Lils, why do you think he asked Cal to hire me? He wants to do better, honest,’ the nickname comes out of nowhere, as does the gentle tone. If he didn’t know Snivellus better, he’d think the soft admonishment was true, that the snake actually cared for a Muggleborn. But Slytherin’s are good actors, all that cunning had to go somewhere, right? James had been watching the snake for five years now and none of this git’s manufactured kindness had ever been on display before. 

‘He just– gets a bit scared sending me back to Hogwarts. You know how ma was treated, he doesn’t like the reminder.’

Evans sends out a short, aggrieved huff, dragging the snake to sit beside her as if he hadn’t thrown a cutting curse at James just last term. As if the Christmas holidays had somehow made the Snivellus a better person.

‘Sev, he’s– What he does isn’t right, he never should have to work to be a better Da, that’s fucking bonkers.’

No, what was truly bonkers is that Lily Evans had learnt how to swear over the Christmas holidays. 

Again Snivellus’ mask begins to crack, he pulls to the corner and sends a withering glare at Evans, of the sort he would never do in front of the rest of Gryffindor. James glared at him harder, grip over his wand tightening, a vindication settling over his standing form. Evans was too good for the snake, didn’t realise that his playing nice in front of other students was just a front to manipulate her, but James and Sirius knew better. Had been searching for the cracks in the fake friendship they’d had for years now.

‘Lils just drop it! It’s not like I’m an amazing son,’ he spits the words acidically, levering Evans with a smouldering, noxious glare he usually reserves for James, ‘And he’s a fair lot better than any other Da in Ends, he drove me here, didn’t he? Got me a job. Says sorry when he gets a bit into his cups. Let me keep going to Hogwarts even after Ma carked it, he’s no Harrison Evans but he fucking tries!’

Instead of backing down at the anger, walking away and ignoring Snivellus like she ignores James, Evans comes alive at the anger. Whipped over to face him, face flushing as she growls out, harrowing her own angry, captivating, green-tinged stare at Snape and lifting a finger to his chest.

‘My Da’s not perfect Sev, but he doesn’t fucking beat me blue!’

What?

‘It wasn’t even a beating, so what my arm’s a mess–’

‘No, no don’t you dare act like it’s all bloody okay! If my Da did anything like that you’d want me to te–’

‘If you fucking tell anyone I will–’

‘So what, I just let you go home and hope he doesn’t kill you this ti–’

‘Da would never!’

‘He would Sev! He’s been hitting you for as long as I’ve known you, why can’t you just accept–’

‘There’s nothing to accept Lils,’ Snape cries out, holding his hands up to cup her pointed fingers, ‘I’m telling you it’s not like that, Da loves me. He does, so just shut it!’

James wanted nothing more than to actually disappear. Disapparate? End up in another compartment, for sure. One that didn’t have Snape looking at Evans with the sort of pleading he had never once given to the Marauders. Needed to get away from the soft droop of his piercing raven-black eyes, to not notice how Snape’s lips went from dry and chapped to moist as he bit down, truly looking at Evans. Not through or past or over her like he did James. 

Snape wasn’t supposed to beg, wasn’t supposed to look at Evans with reverence, as if their weird, awful, wrong, fake-friendship meant anything to the slimy snake. Snape was a tome of dark magic and acidic words and gut-punching spells that masqueraded in a students body. He wasn’t– He wasn’t like Siri, stuck in an awful house, because Snape’s family had to love him, right? Snape made sense, a dark-arts loving snake in a family of dark-arts loving snakes, Snape proved that in their very first meeting. Siri was a Gryffindor stuck in a snake family, Snape– He had to be telling the truth. Evans just cared too much about the snake to know what normal discipline was like, Muggles were probably less strict with their kids. Maybe– maybe his dad never hit him and neither did Remy’s, but their parents were soft, Snape probably just had parents like Pete, who could get a little rou–

Godric, he felt sick. This was all wrong, he wanted to prank them, not watch enviously as the sleazy, greasy snake he hated held hands with the most beautiful witch in their year.

Instead of disappearing, James sits before the odd Slytherin-Gryffindor duo he had hated and he watched. This didn't make sense. That’s the only reason he was watching, he wanted it to make sense. Wanted Snape to show his true colours and Evans to learn the errors of her ways, picking a no-name Pureblood family like Snape to attach to, instead of an established family like Potter.

Nothing made sense anymore, because Evans moved to take Snape's tattered robe from his shoulders and James was going to have to watch them shag, wasn’t he? That was an awful thought, stirring inside of his stomach even as his eyes stayed spelled to the scene. 

He was going to watch the girl he had been asking out for the past year shag his mortal enemy. James didn’t want to believe the rumours going around, because even as a Muggleborn Evan’s was the prettiest, smartest witch he knew, but there was no other reason for a proper young lady to be unbuttoning another young man's shirt and it made sense really. Of course sex was why the Slytherin kept Evans around, what use did a no good pureblood like him have in a fragile, naive Muggleborn like Evans?

Except– Except today any form of sense kept unravelling because Snape’s school shirt was unbuttoned, falling to his long, floppy elbows and Evans was crying. Rolling his eyes, James paid no mind to the stab of disappointment aching somewhere near his waist, only grinning at the reaction. So they probably hadn’t ever shagged and looking at Snape’s greasy, lanky body had made her realise she could do better, there was no way a greasy bat like…

Snape had abs?

No. No! How dare he?

Snape was stupidly tall with an ugly mug and greasy hair and pasty skin. 

And yet. Abs. Now he didn’t know why Evans would be crying, because Merlin was Snape a bit more sculpted than he had ever presumed. Still wiry, with a small waist, pasty skin and a trail of dark, thick hairs snaking from his belly button, down to his trousers, but there was a concave near his stomach and chiselled, defined lines from his pecs down. Merlin above even James could admit if you put a bag over his head, Snape wouldn’t be half bad looking and then–

Well, then James’ roaming gaze caught on to what exactly made Evans gasp, what caused her to tear up and run her fingers over Snape’s sickly pale skin.

Snape had said his arm was a mess, which it was, mottled a blue darker than even the night sky. The bruises crept up in his shoulder in odd bunches. Snape talked about this mess casually, the same way Petey talked about his parents giving him a growling. Like it was just normal for Snape to walk around with his dad’s shoe size imprinted like a sick temporary tattoo across his shoulder.

Evans wasn’t overreacting. Snape’s dad might actually kill him, he thinks nostrils flaring. Gaze wandering over to the stark, yellow-green hand marks lining his elongated neck and the large, almost scabbed maroon-ish bite mark at his chest.

‘Sev– did he…?’ Evans ran her fingers up Snape’s chest and to the bite mark, her fingers making delicate circles around the wound causing his stomach to whirl oddly, her voice cracking as she whispered.

He wanted to sick up at the thought, though he was still unnervingly enraptured by the scene before him. Shivering at the touch, Snivelly snapped his eyes to Evans at the last minute, a weak, harsh laugh leaving his throat.

‘No– Merlin, no Lils, I told you I was necking with Alex for the summer.’

Evans pulls back at the admittance, a cute blush consuming her face as she glanced away with pursed lips. Despite the visage she was and the slow building relief from not having to watch his crush shag someone else, James couldn’t help but feel underwhelmed at the admittance.

Snape managed to snag a bird, but James couldn’t? 

Though, he thought once more staring at the duo, he didn’t just want any old bird like Snivellus. He wanted a proper, gorgeous flower. Pale and tall and beautiful, with brains and bite to boot.

‘Right. Did Alex also…’ Here she trails her hands from the bite mark to the handprints, her own slighter fingers not able to mask the rough bruises left there.

Merlin, did Snape like it rough? Did he like it when James pushed him around? The thought flopped somewhere uncomfortable for him to hang onto, his warm, walnut coloured eyes dilating at the prospect. Was that why Snape always fought back against his betters? Even he had to know that the Noble and Valiant House of Potter ranked far above most normal purebloods. Did he have to pull back on the pranks if Snape did like it like that?

Empathetically no, is the decision Snivelly makes for him, looking to the side, his long raven hair ghosting over his shoulder as he shook his head, making a mesmerising curtain against his pale neck

If anything that made it worse, something which Evans agreed on if the tight pulling of her ginger brows meant anything.

Wizardingfolks didn’t leave bruises like that on anyone's skin, much less their own kids. Even Siri’s shitty parents wouldn’t knock him about with their own hands, it was unheard of in Wizarding society, children were to be treasured and disciplined, not treated like blimmin’ house-elves in Dark Families.

‘Sev, just– just think about moving in with us, please.’

Okay, even James had to admit that was a terrible offer. Lovely as Evans was to look at, she was still a Muggleborn. Who would give up living with their own family for living with Muggles?  Not even Siri would, right? 

Would he… If it meant not being with his parents?

Merlin, would Pete? Could he just; offer it to them like Evans had? Without restraint or boundaries?

‘I don’t need your charity Lily.’

‘It’s not charity, it’s the soddin’ right thing to do, Tuney’s started Uni and ma and da would be thril–’

‘Your parents hate me.’

‘My parents don’t hate you, they don’t even know you Sev, you don’t let them try.’

Unable to be swayed by the witches' argument, Snape pursed his lips and looked away, his own long fingers coming up to hastily pull and button up his school shirt.

This left James with the unwanted realisation that he was stuck under his cloak, in a closed train compartment with the only two students his year happy to hex the life out of him if they knew he was there. Thankfully enough, after an agonising two hours of listening to them talk about potions and charms and some oaf named Dursley, the two begin to nod off.

Snape is first, his answers becoming more slurred as he continues to lean on the window to his right. After his answers become painfully incoherent, Evans sits in silence, her own eyes tracking the space between the two of them. In an unexpected show of audacity, when Snape is very firmly asleep, Evans leans her head against his broad shoulder, feet tucked under her inexplicably short skirt, the smooth valley of skin from her knees to ankle bare for all to see and her usually bright, emerald eyes coming to a soft, gentle close. He waits for a few minutes, watching as their breathing somehow becomes more in sync and opens the compartment door. Neither move to hex him, or move at all, Evans happily groping at Snivelly’s robes and Snivellus holding his arms to his chest, as if a beautiful witch wasn’t lying against his arm for the taking.

James leaves the compartment more keyed up than ever, a difficult, clawing anger at his chest. The two losers don’t stir for a bit as he slides the door shut with a firm, sudden snap.

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There’s a million and one thoughts racing through his brain on a well-trimmed cleansweep, twisting and turning as they look for the golden snitch, the proper answer to these thoughts. The thoughts had in fact been racing through his brain for hours now. He trudges to where he had left his friends, sliding the door open and wrenching his cloak off immediately. 

Remy’s laughter dies down as he peers at James with a wide, amber-tinged curiosity. 

Not one to fully think through his decisions and having sat on this tantalising idea for far too long, James bunches his cloak to his school bag and pierces his still laughing friends with an inquisitive glance. The snitch was gleaming in his mind, Pete and Siri just had to move so James could grab it. Could hold onto the idea that Evans had unknowingly released to the aether. Neither Pete nor Siri notice him, too caught up in a game of exploding snap that had left Remy with some rather glaring soot marks and a messy bush of brown hair.

‘Move in with me,’ he states with more confidence than he feels.

Ocean blue and hazy grey eyes whip towards his direction, a sea of black curls and a soft trail of blonde hair both tilted to the side as they take in their missing friend. Neither spoke, their eyes darting around the room to look for whom exactly James was speaking to.

‘Both your parents are shite and I’ve had more money in Gringotts than I’ll ever need, move in with me.’ Both Pete and Siri don’t look inclined to say yes, their faces twisted to something almost Snape-like. He steamrolls ahead, voice steadily burning as he keeps talking. If a Muggleborn like Evans could make the offer, so could Heir Potter. ‘Mum and Dad would love to have other kids around the estate and I’m sick of seeing you two come back to Hogwarts worse for wear. We’ll be able to get it approved, a formal adoption and everything. You could be Peter and Sirius Potter and no one would bat an eye.’

Not particularly true, the Black’s could protest, but the status the Potter family held before their migration to Great Britain was greater than the Status the Black family held. Contentious for more current generations who mocked even the Malfoy’s for their migration from France in the 12th Century, but noble and with extreme merit considering the Potter Predecessors and all their achievements. Just because they were different continents, didn’t mean his family was powerless here, they didn’t need the stinkin’ Blacks to uphold their status. James could pull his friends into his family and make sure they never turned up like Snivellus, bruised to the days.

Neither Siri or Pete reply, both nervously clutching the cards in their grip. James was right to be worried, they had to know that. That’s why they were nervous. They knew they deserved better.

‘Jamie–’ starts Siri, voice dropping to a soft candour, his own face settling on a malcontent frown, ‘That’s… It’s a sweet offer mate, but my Uncle and I have a plan, you know that. I’ll get away from my family as soon as we graduate.’

Peter pipes up as well, ‘I know they might seem a bit, mean. But my parents genuinely care about me Jamie, I’m not gonna give up on them.’

James thinks of large, purple and green bruises lighting a pale, breathing canvas up and bristles at the words.

‘I don’t care,’ he spits, arms crossing over his chest as he plops down next to Remy, ‘Parents shouldn’t– Shouldn’t do that to their kids.’

‘They’re not doing anything Jamie, Siri’s parents like the Dark Arts and mine are strict, you really don’t need to make such a big offer.’

Petey’s wrong, because Evans made the offer and Snape has a helluva streak of bruises and Petey doesn’t even let himself eat to fullness, too worried about his mum’s apparent strictness.

‘It’s not normal.’ He cries, hands coming to slap against his thigh, seeing only a loop of healing bruises across otherwise unblemished skin. ‘You– You’re mum’s made you cry more than any snake at school and Siri’s mum made him cast an unforgivable, you– you can’t be happy there Petey.’

‘Mum might be a bit over-bear–’

‘You lost three stone this summer and she said that you were finally starting to look like a normal blok–’

‘Salazar’s bleeding hide Jamie! Why are you so strung about shite said in the pa–’

It’s hard, arguing against two people instead of one.

‘Don’t start Sirius! After everything your parents have said, after that howler in–’

‘So Mum was mad! It’s not a big deal!’

‘Mum’s aren’t supposed to call their son’s failures!’ He shouts in exasperation.

Peter snarls at him, his usually kind eyes seething, voice coming out of clenched teeth, ‘Not everyone has perfect parents James, you know this!’

‘They don’t need to be perfect, they just need to be ki–’

‘Oh, put a fucking sock in it Jamie! Why’re you trying to air our dirty laundry out for everyone to feck–’

‘It shouldn’t be dirty laundry, there shouldn’t be anything to air out, if your parents actually loved you–’

‘If you finish that sentence James Fleamont Potter I will hex you to pieces!’

Godric almighty he was so mad, couldn’t see beyond the crimson narrowing his vision. Peter and Sirius were wrong, were lying to him just like Snape was lying to Evans. That's the only reason Peter would pretend to be so mad at him. James would not let it go, wouldn’t let them think for a second that they were worth less than Severus fucking Snape, wouldn’t let them think that whatever weird, undisclosed behaviour their parents set on them was in any way right.

‘Why? Because I’m right? Because you know that normal parents don’t scream at you for eating dinner, Petey? Don’t lock their fridges and cupboards as punishment? Because parents who care aren’t supposed to make you use blood quills!?’

Sirius glares at the reminder.

‘Once! My parents used one blood quill, to teach me a lesson. Once, Jamie. Stop acting like this is a big, fecking deal!’

Sirius sounded so anguished as he screamed, his voice rising and quivering in the air, wet with his anger, the cards he had flying to the ground as he pulled James to his feet, grip unrelenting on his collar.

‘It is!’ He shouts, absolutely red with fury, channelling his inner Evans maybe, ‘It’s a big deal because I don’t know if the next time I see you after Summer Break is gonna be with the both of you shoved in a fucking coffin. It’s a big deal because parents are supposed to love you, supposed to care for you not– Not whatever the fuck your parents are doing now!’

Sirius doesn’t answer, his usually delightful features pulled into a withering glare, channelling as much Snape as James had been channelling Evan’s. Sirius chucks James with a frustrated snarl to the ground. Peter doesn’t answer the accusations either, chucking his cards down and moodily looking at the wall behind them.

They’re left with a sharp bang as Sirius leaves the compartment, all the quasi-confidence James had held crumbling as Peter stays silent and Remy just bumps their shoulders together, as if the contact could somehow pull James’ words from the air and lead the Marauders to the familiar, happy, camaraderie-based silence they had once held. He doesn’t know what to do now, so stuck in their regular routine to figure out where this had all fallen apart. Stupid fucking Snivellus and Evans, making James out to be the bad guy to his friends. Silently, James fumes, too lost in his anger to see why everything had fallen to pieces.

He was just being a Gryffindor, like Evans, why were his friends more mad than Snivelly at the inquisition?

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The anger does not abate come morning, left to stew as he and his friends had stormed away, uncaring of the feast before him. Left to stew the next day, when Sirius and Peter pointedly waited for James to sit in their usual spot at back of Charms and made their way to the very front, leaving him with Remy’s shy smile and quiet humour. Left to stew in Defense, when Remy had wordlessly clasped James’ wrist and dragged him to the side when they were asked to pick partners.

It all comes to head a few weeks later, when they’ve got a break between classes and instead of mucking about with him, Sirius and Peter are down at the Lake with the girls. Its taking all of James' admittedly weak self-control to not pull his wand out, cast the incarcerous spell and haul his friends back to the Potter Estate, where they will be safe from any harm. 

Remy, in true him fashion, hasn’t yet figured out how to deal with any of their anger and has instead decided to keep James away from Siri and Petey as if the distance could somehow fix whatever he broke between them that weird, awful first day back at Hogwarts.

Coming onto nearly fifteen days from then, James knows his temper is frayed more so than usual. He’s supposed to be the one with the ideas, the one to push the Marauders forward. Instead he’s standing under an archway watching his friends like a stranger, Remus going on about getting a head start on their studies.

Seeing Sirius flirt with Meadows, James can’t appreciate Remus’ kindness. His friends were wrong, were lying to him and were frankly, being stupid and ungrateful.

There was only one other family who had migrated to Great Britain pre-12th Century and could claim to have an equal amount of acclaim as the Potter family, as far as James knows though, that family is less than a decade away from extinction. Not even the Noble and Striking House of Malfoy or the Malevolent and Acrimonious House of Lestrange could contest if the Potter’s wished to adopt from the almost ruined House of Pettigrew. Siri’s parents could be dicks about the whole thing, but if they didn’t want to cause a scandal in Pureblood Society by revealing their treatment of their Heir Apparent, the Black’s would do well to hold their tongue.

James was giving them a chance at freedom, at kindness for the sake of kindness, not for some weird screwed up power play like the Pettigrew’s and Black’s. He knows he can be a bit short-sighted at times, but really he was doing this for them.

Glaring at his friends, he sees a curtain of red near Meadow’s own black curls and feels his anger pulse to the sky. 

This was all Evans' fault. If the know-it-all bookworm hadn’t planted this idea in his head, James could still have his friends sitting and laughing with him, not– Not sitting away from him, ignoring him and rejecting him just like Evans did and Snape did and huffing, his eyes flicker to the biggest source of his consternation.

Snivellus, sat away from all his friends like the freak he is, hiding the damning things his parents did to him, just like James hid what Siri and Petey’s parents did to them.

The thoughts keep tangling in his head and before he knows it, before he can think better of it, before he can remember that there are other students around, he’s stalking to the area where Snivellus is sitting alone, huddled over a dark tome, the shade of the trees casting shadows on his skin.

He knows Evans is near, had seen her. He doesn’t care. This is all their fault. If Evans hadn’t– If Snape hadn’t.

Godric, he does not know what to do with the well of anger inside of him, how to dispel the furious conglomerate of emotions and memories stirring within. Something whispers in his mind, a vindictive voice he rarely indulges in.

Go on then, it purrs, he deserves it.

He does. 

Remus is coming after him, his voice soft, biting in the ways only Remus knows how to bite; softly, without malice yet filled with fervour. 

‘Levicorpus!’ He shouts, dangling Snape in the air. Snape’s wand slips to the ground from his pocket. 

‘James, knock it off!’ 

Who bloody well cares Remus! It’s Snivellus, Snivellus who started this screwed up thing. And it’s him who would end it, thinks James. If- if Peter and Sirius understood what James was scared of, what could happen to them, then they’ll get it. They’ll get why he’s being so protective. 

They couldn’t end up like Snivelus. 

Some people come around to gawk, he can feel their stares. He hopes Siri’s in the group, hope Petey recognises that this shit isn’t normal

‘You think you’re so smart don’t you Snape. Lying and hiding behind your thick books. Being a complete prat to Evans. Well you’re not. You’re a lying, cheating, cowardly snake!’ James reckons he sounds a bit like a banshee, not that it matters because Snape just glares at him, his eyes smouldering with the same heat James can feel in the pit of his stomach.

Good.

‘You think you’re brave, Snivellus, think you’re the hero–’

‘Potter! Put him down right this–’

‘Oh fuck off Evans!’ The clearing is so quiet that a pin-drop, a drop of rain could disturb them. Everything is so red he can’t even be bothered to care. ‘Like you’re any better. You walk around here like you’re the sweetest thing since treacle tarts, well you’re not. You’re just as much a conniving, greedy snake as this bastard.’

Someone– Remus he thinks vaguely– puts their hand on his shoulder, he shrugs it off, meeting Snape’s wide eyes.

Striding forward so he’s just under Snape’s floating figure, James thereafter drops Snape indelicately, catching his collar in his hand.

No one else dares to move around them, too shocked that James Potter himself had shouted insults at not just a Gryffindor, but at the Gryffindor, Lily Evans.

‘Think you’re so strong Potter, picking on someone without a wand.’ Snape’s growl is low, sending goosebumps running across his neck.

‘Think you’re so strong Snape,’ he mocks back, eyes rolling, bringing the older boy so close their faces just about touch, ‘Hiding your bruises.’

Snape pales at the implication, his previous bravado gone as he thrashes in James’ grip.

‘Get your hands off me you freak!’

Nothing, nothing matters anymore. Snivellus is a liar. Evans a coward. James the bad guy. None of it means anything anymore. Something blurry and tenuous whips around his brain.

‘What, scared of me, Snape? I thought you were used to being hurt. Isn’t that what this shit is!’

The thoughts aren’t connecting clearly, they're floating around somewhere and he’s ripping at Snape’s robes. Snape is trying to shove him off and there’s a high-pitched scream and scuffle going on behind them. Not that it matters– James is stronger than Snape, for all Snape packs a mean punch, James is the one on the Quidditch team.

He’s a bit unclear how it happens, but in seconds Snape’s robe has been unbuckled and unknotted, sitting against his shoulders and bearing all those horrible, ugly marks for everyone to see. James traces them with his bespectacled gaze like an artist looking at their muse

James doesn’t know what he wants to say, can feel a jumble of words twisting inside of him, but there’s a blur of ginger and he’s suddenly on the ground, six foot worth of ivory skin and bones straddling him and the girl of his dreams laying harsh, decidedly manly punches on him.

Godric, even for a coward Evans’ is enrapturing in her fury. He can’t think of anything else because unfortunately, she lays a quick, sudden fist to his face and he’s out quicker than a casted nox.

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