#background wolfstar

“That’s the last of them,” Sirius informed Regulus as he tossed down the last of the boxes—countless canvases and frames of his ancestors—onto the corridor. He looked satisfied, perhaps a little smug.

Regulus, on the other hand, felt conflicted.

Ten years ago, when he was seventeen, with his mother freshly buried six feet deep and newly assigned the Black patriarch, he’d sworn to his parents’ grave he would never follow Sirius’s path. That determination dissolved when, one evening, eating alone at the end of the long dinner table, he realised—the dead could never replace the living.

He’d run to Sirius’s house and begged him for forgiveness immediately.

Since then, he’d been… developing. Improving. Questioning every ideal that had been instilled into his mind since birth, debating them, and rejecting them when needed.

So, after a full decade, he’d decided to clean out Grimmauld Palace.

Removing the dark objects from every room was easy. He had no attachment to them whatsoever. Some were intriguing, but that was it. The portraits, however… his grandparents, great-aunts, and…

“We could leave Mother and Father,” he said quietly, eyes downcast. “I could keep them in my study, you wouldn’t have to see them at all—”

“Reggie.” Sirius’s voice turned firm, eyes sharp as they rested on the younger man. “You told me to stop you if you started having second thoughts, so don’t blame me. They were cruel to us—to you—and their portraits are no different. They deserve to go. Keeping them will hurt you.”

Regulus bit down on his lip. “But they—”

“No.” Sirius kicked the box. It slid across the ground and bumped into the front door. “Nuh uh. No. They’re gone.”

“The walls look empty,” Regulus said weakly.

“Then we’ll put up new pictures.” Sirius’s eyes softened. Sometimes, Regulus could see Padfoot in his brother—the dog’s eyes that made Regulus want to crumble, hug it, and sob into its fur. “Of you. Of me. Of us, and… others.”

Others.

Regulus didn’t need to ask who others meant.

He imagined soft hazel eyes and playful smiles all over his walls, bright laughter instead of screaming accusations, lovely brown curls instead of sleek black buns and old-man beards. It painted a nice picture for sure.

For the first time today, he smiled. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

my jamieee <33

(inspired by a current wip, Let the Light In <33)

Pants || Jegulus Word count: 1,043

@jeggyverses-jegulus-microfic @lilldrknesss

James Potter realized something was wrong when Regulus walked into the common room wearing his pants.

Not similar pants.

His pants.

James knew this because he owned exactly one pair of dark grey lounge trousers that were comfortable enough to survive long evenings in the Gryffindor common room. They were slightly too long in the leg, frayed faintly at one cuff where he’d once stepped on them while running down the stairs, and there was a tiny burn mark near the pocket from when Sirius had gotten overexcited with a sparking charm.

Regulus Black was currently wearing them.

James stared.

Sirius noticed immediately.

“Why are you staring at my brother like that?” he asked, sprawled sideways across the sofa.

James pointed.

Regulus paused halfway across the room.

“What.”

James squinted harder.

Remus glanced up from his book.

“Oh,” he said quietly.

Sirius followed James’s pointing finger.

Then he squinted too.

“…Regulus,” Sirius said slowly, “why are you wearing Potter’s trousers.”

Regulus looked down at himself.

Then back up.

“They are trousers,” he said calmly.

“They are my trousers,” James said.

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“Are they.”

“Yes.”

Regulus glanced down again, as though inspecting them for the first time.

“They appear to fit.”

James blinked.

“They fit because they’re mine.”

“They’re a little short,” Sirius added helpfully.

Regulus shot him a look.

“They are not.”

“They absolutely are,” Sirius said. “Your ankles are visible.”

Remus coughed lightly into his sleeve, clearly hiding a smile.

James stood up.

“Regulus.”

“Yes, James.”

“Why are you wearing my pants.”

Regulus considered this question like it was a philosophical puzzle.

Then he said, very evenly—

“Laundry accident.”

Sirius barked a laugh.

“That’s not a real thing.”

“It is if someone,” Regulus said pointedly, “decides to charm the washing basin in the Slytherin dormitory to ‘speed up the process.’”

Sirius grinned.

“Oh, that was you?”

Regulus glared at him.

“Yes.”

“And it shrank your clothes?”

“Yes.”

Sirius laughed harder.

Remus finally closed his book, clearly deciding he might as well witness the rest of this conversation properly.

James folded his arms.

“So instead of—oh, I don’t know—wearing a different pair of pants…”

Regulus looked at him.

“You lent these to me.”

James blinked again.

“I did not.”

“You did.”

“When?”

Regulus tilted his head slightly.

“Two nights ago.”

James searched his memory.

Two nights ago.

Late evening.

Regulus had been in the Gryffindor common room working on Arithmancy notes with Remus. James had come back from Quidditch practice soaked in rain and complaining loudly about the weather.

And then—

“Oh,” James said faintly.

Sirius leaned forward.

“Oh what.”

James rubbed the back of his neck.

“I might have said he could borrow them.”

Remus nodded thoughtfully.

“That sounds like you.”

Sirius looked between them suspiciously.

“Why.”

James shrugged helplessly.

“He was cold?”

Regulus’s mouth twitched.

Sirius squinted harder.

“…Why was he cold.”

Regulus said smoothly, “The castle is drafty.”

James coughed.

Remus made a small, suspicious noise.

Sirius leaned back slowly.

“I don’t like this conversation.”

James brightened suddenly.

“Well! Mystery solved.”

Regulus turned to continue toward the armchairs near the fire.

James followed him.

“You were supposed to give them back.”

“I was planning to.”

“You’re wearing them.”

“Yes.”

James gestured helplessly.

“That’s not the same thing.”

Regulus sat down calmly in the chair beside the fire.

“They were available.”

James stared at him.

Up close, it was even more obvious.

The trousers sat lower on Regulus’s hips than they did on James, the waistband slightly loose. The cuffs really were a bit short on him.

It looked…

James cleared his throat.

“…You could have asked.”

Regulus looked up at him.

“Would you have said no.”

James paused.

“…Probably not.”

“Then this saved time.”

James dropped into the chair opposite him.

Sirius appeared behind the sofa again like a suspicious detective.

“Why are we discussing Potter’s pants like it’s a diplomatic treaty.”

Remus answered calmly.

“Because Regulus is wearing them.”

Sirius blinked.

“…Still?”

“Yes.”

Sirius looked at Regulus again.

Then at James.

Then back at Regulus.

A slow grin spread across his face.

“Oh.”

James pointed a warning finger at him.

“Don’t.”

Sirius ignored him completely.

“You’re sharing clothes now.”

“No,” James said quickly.

“Yes,” Sirius said.

Regulus leaned back slightly in his chair.

“They’re comfortable.”

James’s ears turned pink.

Remus hid another smile.

Sirius looked delighted.

“This is revolting.”

“You started it,” Regulus said coolly.

“I did not start Potter lending you his trousers!”

James groaned.

“They’re just pants.”

“Yes,” Sirius said, “but now I have to think about why you’re lending him pants.”

“You absolutely do not.”

“I absolutely do.”

Remus stood up.

“I’m getting tea.”

“Coward,” Sirius called after him.

Remus waved vaguely and left the room.

James slumped slightly in his chair.

Sirius watched them both with far too much interest.

“…You’re keeping them, aren’t you,” Sirius said.

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“They’re trousers.”

“You’re keeping them.”

Regulus didn’t answer.

Which was answer enough.

Sirius pointed at James.

“You’re never getting those back.”

James sighed.

“I’ve accepted that.”

Sirius leaned back with a satisfied nod.

“Good.”

Then he stood up.

“I’m leaving before this gets more disturbing.”

And with that, he wandered off toward the staircase.

Silence settled over the corner by the fire.

James looked at Regulus.

Regulus looked at the fire.

After a moment, James said quietly—

“You could’ve just asked.”

Regulus glanced at him.

“I know.”

“So why didn’t you.”

Regulus hesitated.

Then he said, a little softer than before—

“They smell like you.”

James froze.

Regulus immediately looked back at the fire like he hadn’t said anything unusual.

James’s ears went even redder.

“Oh.”

Another pause.

Then James said weakly—

“You could’ve led with that.”

Regulus huffed a small laugh.

“I thought the laundry story was more dignified.”

James leaned back in his chair, shaking his head.

“You stole my pants because they smell like me.”

“I borrowed them.”

“You’re keeping them.”

“Probably.”

James tried to look offended.

He failed.

“Alright,” he said.

Regulus looked at him.

James grinned.

“But next time you want something of mine…”

“Yes?”

“Just ask.”

Regulus’s mouth curved slightly.

“I did,” he reminded him.

James laughed softly.

And across the room, Sirius yelled from the staircase—

“I CAN STILL HEAR YOU TWO BEING WEIRD.”

“Stay,” James murmurs from where he lounges in his bed. 

“And what would Sirius say when he finds me here in the morning?” 

“You can sneak out early, you know how late he sleeps in during the holidays.” 

“I’ve never stayed the night with you,” Regulus explains, “so you don’t know how I would most likely try to suffocate you with a pillow if you try to wake me up early. I have to go back to my own room.” 

He can’t lie though, the thought of curling up in James’ arms and feeling his breathing even out and the warmth of their bodies pressed together as they drift off to sleep fills him with a soft kind of comfort he never thought possible, not even a mere month ago. But he’s only just started to repair his fraught relationship with his brother, and him finding out about their secret relationship, especially in this way, may undo any progress they have made, and he does not want to risk that. 

“Goodnight, James.” 

Regulus tiptoes out his childhood room, closing the door as silently as possible behind him, and violently jumps when he turns around to be face to face with Remus, who looks just as startled, standing frozen in place like he got caught sneaking out of Gringott’s vaults rather than Sirius’ room. 

“Tell Sirius you saw I crept out James’ room and I’ll tell Effie and Monty about where you were,” he whispers. “They’ll surely put an end to these sleepovers of yours.” 

“Can you at least tell me when that happened?” Remus asks. “Me and Pete have this bet you see…” 

“Of course you do,” Regulus rolls his eyes. “Last January though.” 

“Oh, my goodness. Really? Neither of us thought it’s been that long. James is awful at keeping secrets like this.” 

“Yet you figured it out.” 

“’Cause he cannot hide the love in his eyes every time he looks at you. It’s obvious now that you’re staying here.” 

“Love?” he repeats disbelievingly. 

"Did you ever notice how Potter's clearly the fittest in Gryffindor?" Barty asked randomly one day, as Regulus, Barty, and Evan sat in the Common Room doing their homework.

Gaping, Regulus tried to act normally, and not like he wanted to claw Barty's eyes out for looking at Potter in any way other than platonic. "Erm...no, never noticed," he gritted out, keeping his face neutral.

"Oh, I have," Evan chimed in, making Regulus narrow his eyebrows. "I definitely would pay money to see him with his shirt off, I mean-"

"He's not that attractive," Regulus cut in, clenching his fists. Evan, too? Merlin, did everyone want Potter?

"Oh, he is," Barty disagreed. "The things I'd let him do to me, right, Ev?"

Evan nodded, grinning.

But Regulus, whose already-short temper had been nonexistent today what with the stress of homework, erupted. "Well, he's quite happy doing things to me, actually, so if you'll both fuck off-"

"I knew it!" Barty burst out, looking triumphant. "That's ten galleons, Ev!"

Warning: 18+, oral sex, female receiving.

AN: Hi everyone, didn’t expect my last post to receive as much attention as it did, thank you all. Here’s another little drabble of an imagine I had :)

“Would you two mind helping me?”

Remus looked up from his book. Sirius sat up from Remus’ lap.

They both peered up at James who had his hands shoved deep into the back pockets of his jeans, a slightly bashful expression on his pretty face. He rocked on his heels a bit under their gaze, flustered.

“I just need a couple more pairs of hands that’s all”

Remus and Siris looked at each other. Couldn’t be that hard, could it?

summary: James Potter x Reader, James takes a ballet class and crushes on the teacher (you)

cw: sexist remarks? it is kind of just gender stereotypes of ballet I guess, i didn't proof read this so just pretend it's good for me

word count: 2.6K

James thought that he might actually quit. This was ridiculous in every sense of the word. It was humiliating and a cruel punishment for sure.

His quidditch coach had the brilliant idea of signing the whole team up for ballet classes. Ballet, as in, turns and tiptoes and tights. This was emasculating to him, so beneath his training and dedication to the sport he should be practicing. 

His coach announced the classes on the last day of spring training. He stated that they were to attend every class until their season starts, no exceptions. He went on and on about how it would benefit the team to become more agile and graceful. But James didn’t understand the logic at all, he needed to be quick, strong, sturdy. Not exactly what ballerinas are known for. 

His coach emphasized the fact that these lessons were mandatory by stating that those who fail to attend would be cut from the team. He was not joking. A few of his teammates tried to protest, but his coach made the ultimatum. He said that if they wanted to be professionals and play on this prestigious team, they would learn grace and elegance in their training.

James loved and valued his position on the team, so he wasn't so fast to say no to these lessons. He was also trying to become captain of the team this year, and pretending to be excited and grateful for these lessons seemed like a way to earn him some brownie points.

So he pretended to the best of his abilities, he got the team together to encourage or change their attitudes, saying that it would be a great experience for the summer and that it was only three months of these lessons. Well, two lessons every week for three months, but that still wasn’t too bad.

When the coach overheard some of the team still complaining about ballet, he made them run and condition until half of them were throwing up. He was not here to play about these lessons.

“Got your leotard?” Sirius teased James from the couch. He had his head resting in Remus’s lap. 

James had lived with his two best friends since the end of school and he couldn’t be happier. Well, he could do with a little less of the making out and the groping he would catch every now and then, but he couldn’t blame them both, they were happy and in love. He just… didn’t need to see it all the time. And now, he didn’t need to be teased to add insult to injury.

“No.” James replied, rolling his eyes. He grabbed his red workout bag with his team’s logo from the opposite couch that his friends were sitting on and slung it over his shoulder.

“I think it’ll be good for you, Prongs,” Remus chimed in, “You could learn a thing or two about grace.”

James again rolled his eyes. He wasn’t in the mood, he was sore from yesterday’s practice, and was now about to prance around like an idiot for an hour.

“I just need to get through this,” James said. “I want to look good when my coach is choosing captains this season.” 

“Anything for that position, eh, Prongsie?” Sirius chuckled from Remus’s lap. “Look on the bright side though, you’ll be surrounded by fit girls in tight clothes and tiny skirts.” 

Remus smacked the top of his head for the comment, earning an ‘ouch’ and small apology. Remus rolled his eyes this time, annoyed by his lover’s crude statement.

James supposed that there was that to look forward to, he would never say it out loud like Sirius, but he was… intrigued by the idea. His male teammates were all put into the Monday/Wednesday classes with a strict teacher apparently. He was selected for the Tuesday/Thursday classes, which he found out were much smaller and taught by a new, younger teacher. A few of his teammates made sure to let him know how lucky he in fact was, the Monday/Wednesday teacher sounded like a hard-ass and a mean old witch.

Another bright side of the classes was that he would be with Marlene, one of his best friends on the team. If he had to endure this torture, he was glad to do it with her at least. It was actually Marlene who was picking him up so they could go to the lesson together. She should be here in about… now.

James bid farewell to his friends and raced out the door before any of the last minute teasing could make it to his ears, and rushed out to where Marlene was waiting in her car for him.

“Hey,” he greeted her, sliding into the passenger seat of her car which felt much too tiny for him to squeeze into. 

“Ready for the ballet Potter?” she giggled, wiggling her brows as she put the car in drive. James found it quite humorous, the two of them, going to their first ballet lesson. The two of them who look like they should keep far away from anything to do with ballet. James, who was a 6’1 burly man with all the elegance of a rhino and knocked into possibly every piece of furniture he owned on a daily basis, and Marlene, with chipped black nails and a self-cut mullet who looks like she would eat the posh little ballerinas for lunch.

Sooner than he would have liked, they reached the dance studio. Marlene parked and they both just sat there for a moment breathing in deep. He turned to her and saw the look that he himself was wearing. One of regret and annoyance. 

“Come on Marls, it's an hour and then we’re done.’’ James reminded her. 

She groaned but opened her door and slipped out.

They both made their way to the door of the building. He opened it and allowed Marlene to walk through first, pretending that it was just a courteous, gentlemanly thing to do, but in all reality, he was just holding onto any time he could have left not doing ballet.

He stepped into the building and into a crowded area with chairs and fake plants, a waiting room for the parents coming to pick up their little ballerinas from lessons. The waiting room was littered with moms scrolling on their phones and looking at their watches. Great.

James and Marlene had to wait for the teacher to come get them and escort them into the correct studio. Marlene plopped herself in a chair and motioned for James to do the same, but he just stood and lingered around the area.

James heard a door open and the chatter and giggles of many children. He heard many “Thank you miss Y/N”s and “Bye miss Y/N”s followed by a flood of little girls all dressed in colorful leotards and skirts filling the waiting room. The children all ran up to their respective mothers and told them about their lesson and how nice their new teacher was and that they all got stickers and how fun everything was. Some of the little girls eyed James and Marlene up and down, Marlene just stared back until the girls got scared and ran over to their adult.

As soon as the chaos broke into the little waiting room, it left. The last little girl put on her pink sparkly light up shoes and bounded out the door with her parent. This reassured everything that James had already felt; that this was useless, meant for little girls. Definitely not quidditch players, definitely not James.

He heard the door open again and turned to see a small woman, about his age, walk out with a clipboard. Her hair was pulled up into a bun. She was clad in a pink leotard and matching pink skirt, light pink tights, and pink ballet shoes. She was pretty, not in a typical perfect ballerina way, but in an entirely different way. James was definitely not expecting someone like her to be in a studio like this, let alone to be teaching.

Her eyes snapped up from what she was reading on her clipboard and instantly lit up.

“Oh hello!” she squeaked. “Are you two here for the 4:00 class?” 

“Uh, yeah.” James replied.

“Perfect! You’re right on time. I’m Y/N, by the way, I’ll be your instructor. You can follow me right in here to studio B.” she said, motioning them to follow her down the hall to the studio. Marlene stood and the both followed. “And here we are,” She said, turning on the light switch, allowing for a better view of the studio.

It was a very small room with light hardwood floors, mirrors lining the back wall. There were mats stacked up in the corner and two parallel bars mounted on the two walls without mirrors.

“You two can go ahead and set your stuff on the wall with the mirrors and then we can get started with stretching.” she announced chipper.

“Aren’t we going to wait for the rest of the class to show up?” Marlene asked from beside James.

“Oh no, you two are the whole class.” She smiled. “You can think of it more like a private lesson, more one on one.”

Private ballet lessons… Sirius was going to have a field day. He looked over at Marlene who just shrugged and made her way to the mirror wall to set her stuff down. James followed.

“It’s just us?” James whisper yelled to Marlene, trying not to let the instructor hear. 

“Is that a problem?” Marlene asked back. “She’s hot.”

James just huffed and pulled off his jacket, tossing it in his bag. 

“Look Potter, think of it this way,” She tried to reason with him, “Now there’s less people to look like an idiot in front of. All of the embarrassing moves will stay just between us three.” She smiled and James nodded his head, feeling like maybe it was a blessing to be in such a small class. “But… I can’t promise I won't make fun of you or use it against you.” She joked.

“Alright, are you both ready?” Y/N asked sweetly. They both nodded and made their way to the center of the room where she was waiting for them. “Alright first things first, welcome to ballet! My name is Y/N, you don't have to call me Miss or anything like the little ones do, just Y/N is fine” She said, her eyes glowing.

 Marlene was right, she was hot. But James wouldn’t be that forward about it, she was incredibly beautiful. If James could do with a touch of grace, she was bathed in it, dripping in it. She radiated confidence and elegance. James didn’t know what to do with his hands all of a sudden.

“I understand that your coach has signed you both up?” She asked. Marlene nodded in confirmation. “Ok, that is perfectly fine, we teach a lot of different athletes here at this studio. But in all honesty, I am a bit new to all of this,” She blushed, looking to the floor, “I mostly work with beginner classes and children so, bear with me.” 

She looked back at them and smiled. “Now, usually we require ballet shoes, but I won't require them for you two, socks or barefoot will be just fine.” she explained. “It is also better if you could wear things that are a little bit tighter. You don’t have to wear leos, but I need to be able to see the lines of your bodies better, so leggings, shorts, tank tops, those are all great!”

She was so cheery. Not only was she elegant and grateful, but kind and bubbly. James felt this warmth within the pit of his stomach now.

“Lastly, I want you two to have fun. I know that this is very different for you but, I promise I will make it as fun and educational for you so that you benefit the most that you can from this experience.” She finished, eyes sparking again.

“Alright with all that being said, let’s start our warm up!” she said.

Y/N led them through a series of stretches, most just like the ones they did at quidditch practice, others that were uncomfortable and pulled on his tight muscles. She assured them that with time, those stretches would get easier.

After, she led them to the bars mounted on one of the walls. She taught them the different positions of ballet; first, second, third, etc.. She taught them plies and releve, coupe and passe, and other French words he didn’t understand and would need to be repeated to him most likely all summer.

“Good Marlene.” James heard Y/N critique from where she was situated behind him. For all the gripe that she gave, Marlene was actually pretty decent at all this.

All of a sudden James felt hands on his abdomen and back, straightening his back into the correct posture. He was startled but continued on.

“There you go,” Y/N chuckled. “And..” she began but cut herself off by setting her hands atop his broad shoulders, pushing down on them. “You gotta relax, your shoulders are too tense. We don’t want them up by our ears,” She said, demonstrating to him by pulling her own shoulders up. “We want an elongated line from our neck and down our spine.” She explained, relaxing her shoulders and looking perfect. 

Next Y/N ran them through some basic turns and steps and they practiced by repeating them across the floor. James couldn’t believe this but, he was actually getting a pretty good workout. He was using muscles he didn’t even know he had, and he knew that if he dared mention that he was sore from ballet in front of Remus and Sirius, they would never let him live it down.

Time actually flew, and class was over before he knew.

“Great job today.” She said to them both, smiling as James caught her eye.

“I heard you give out stickers.” Marlene mentioned, mischief laced in her voice, making Y/N giggle. James loved the sound, decided that he wanted to do anything, everything in his power to hear that again. Hear it forever if he can.

She walked over to where her clipboard lay on the other side of the room, picked it up, then returned to where James and Marlene were now packing up. She peeled off a smiley face that said ‘awesome’ and placed it on Marlene’s shirt. Marlene smiled and started out the door. 

Y/N peeled another off, a star that said ‘you did great’ and placed it on James’s shirt. She pressed it into the fabric, making sure it stuck. James felt the warmth of her fingers radiate through his shirt and into his skin. 

He smiled at her and made his way after Marlene. He turned back to say “See you Thursday!”

She smiled back, waving goodbye to him and repeating that she would see them on Thursday.

Exiting the studio and climbing back into Marlene’s car, James couldn’t get rid of the goofy smile that etched itself into his face. Marlene looked at him and shook her head. “Don’t make it too obvious, Twinkletoes.” She mocked him with a new and reactive nickname.

“What are you talking about?” James asked, pulling his seatbelt on.

“Your little crush.” Marlene said plainly.

James wasn't going to deny it, so what if he had a little crush on the cute ballet teacher? She was gorgeous and so warm. He liked to see the passion in her eyes when she was explaining ballet to them. 

He couldn’t believe it and he would probably never say it out loud but he was excited for his ballet lesson on Thursday.

i wrote this cause I miss ballet and love the athlete x ballerina trope. also ballerinas are in fact athletes, dance is a sport ❤️🎀🩰 also please let me know if you would like to be added to any tag lists

Naturally, he forgets how he looks to his friends when he arrives at Hogwarts. He insists very heavily that he is fine, he knows what he's doing, and while they largely respect this; it doesn't stop them from worrying. Sirius especially once they start dating.

Sirius "I want to be useful" Black clashes a fair bit with Remus "I have this covered" Lupin.

Even once they're out of Hogwarts, the other Marauders keep doing small things for him when he's having a really bad pain day. Leaving chocolate on his nightstand, brewing tea that he likes, setting heated pads in his room the day before and generally keeping their usual ruckus down so that his sharper hearing won't be agitated by it.

It's subtle enough that Remus isn't put off by it. He thinks it's.. not bad.

So an adult Peter knows that Remus's birthday will come up in a few months. He knows Remus has been extra stressed with the Ministry, so he blatantly goes up to his friend and says "I'm making you a pain relief potion" while Remus thinks "oh boy."

Pain relief potions, traditionally, have not been enough to ease the pain. However, he knows his friends and there's no harm in letting them try. It's a nice gesture.

Peter "potion freak" Pettigrew is good at potions and Herbology. A trip into the Forbidden Forest or the black market is like a field day for him, given that he knows what the plants are. He thinks it's hilarious when Back Alley Joe™ tries to sell him a fake plant.

So Peter does a deep dive. He analyzes pre-existing pain potions after getting Remus's opinion on which ones did and didn't do anything. He makes a list of ingredients and spends hours in his Brewing room until someone (usually James, Evan or Regulus) drags him out to take a break. Despite how annoying this is to him, Peter understands. Unfortunately, this understanding doesn't stop him from warding the door to hell and back.

Once Peter has mixed the potion, he gets James and Sirius into the room so that testing can start. James is the test subject because Sirius knows Reverto. You know, in case there's some horrible side effect that he hadn't accounted for.

"Prongs, stub your toe," Peter said.

A loud THUD immediately followed this statement. Stone walls hurt like a bitch.

Peter gave him the potion and.. well, it seemed to work. But Peter wasn't quite satisfied with this.

"Pads, remind me how Moony described his pain?"

"Like his bones are on fire."

"What did it do for you, Prongs?"

"It got rid of the basic ache."

"Back to the drawing board."

Several more months of prototyping and testing are conducted. Peter is very precise about his notes. He writes down every single step so that he can easily recreate it, just in case that potion ends up being successful.

On his birthday, Remus receives a light blue potion without a label. Peter looks like shit. There are circles under his eyes, his hair is shaggy, and he has a noticeable beard.

"I know you can handle yourself fine on mild days. This is for bad days. Based off of.. everything, this should help. If it doesn't, well.."

Peter's eye twitched as he sighed.

"..Then oh well. I've been at it for months. Even if it doesn't work for you, it might work for someone else."

Remus tentatively nodded.

The next time he had a bad day- enough that he couldn't get out of bed- he tried the potion. A fuzzy warmth spread through his body until Remus the pain was nothing more than a twinge in the back of his mind.