#hp reader

author's notes: I’ve been battling with myself to even post this fic in the first place, so please know that I am trying my best and taking the utmost care to assure that I am not upholding JKR's prejudices. And if you don’t want to engage with this at all, I completely understand.

This is a reader-insert piece primarily focused on the platonic relationship between the reader and Harry. The reader in this piece is gender-neutral—relatedly, the word “wizard” is used as an ambiguous, gender-neutral term that encompasses all gender identities. The reader will also be written as racially ambiguous & no physical descriptors will be used. In future chapters, they may be referred to with they/them pronouns.

This piece is going to tread the line between canon divergence and canon noncompliance, so there will likely be many canon inconsistencies. You may have to suspend your disbelief a *little* to enjoy this story. But it will still be largely centered around the events that take place in the seven books.

I have most of the general premise written for this already, but very few of the details and necessary transitions are written. I think this first chapter is a bit choppy, for example, but I don't want this fic to die in my drafts... so I'm letting it run free.

October 31, 1981

You’re having a strange day: a few of your top students completely forgot about the Ancient Runes essay you assigned; at breakfast, Headmaster Dumbledore announced that the next Hogsmeade trip would be postponed; you nearly got mauled by an unfamiliar owl... Things are just odd today. You don’t put much stock in Divination, but even Professor Trelawney’s ravings are starting to sound less mad than usual. Something is in the air.

As you’re walking about, you hear the whispered conversation of two Gryffindors in the hall. You’re not above eavesdropping, so you lean against the closest wall and listen. Besides, you could easily punish them for being out of bed after-hours; if anything, you’re doing them a favor by letting them continue to walk the halls unimpeded. 

“Did you hear? James Potter and his wife were killed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named,” a third-year Gryffindor, Evelark, says.  

“Really?” their companion says, clearly suspicious. “Lily Evans, too? I heard they were both rather talented wizards.” 

“Yes,” the student confirms. "But there’s good news—great, even. Their child, Harry, survived the Dark Lord’s Killing Curse. Not only did he survive, but the curse rebounded and killed the Dark Lord."

“Seriously?!” the other student remarks.  

“Crazy, right?” Evelark exclaims. The elder Gryffindor looks skeptical. The younger student sighs and continues to speak. “They say Harry has a scar on his forehead to show for it.”  

“I don’t quite believe you, Evelark,” they huff.  

“That’s bloody fine,” the younger Gryffindor scoffs, clearly bothered by their companion’s suspicion. “You’ll see it in the Prophet tomorrow." 

“If you say so.” With that last remark, the two Gryffindors make their way back to their common room.  

You watch them retreat for a moment, before eventually letting them fall out of your sight. For a few moments, it feels as if you’re stuck to the wall. Eventually, you manage to peel yourself off of it and walk away.  Your heart pounds traitorously in your chest and a buzzing noise reverberates through your ears and into your skull. Surely the Dark Lord can’t be dead. Surely it couldn’t be that easy. 

You begin to walk down the hallway, suddenly burdened with the pressure of coming to terms with the supposed end of the war on your own. You mechanically make your way back to your office and, before long, you’re sitting at your desk. Admittedly, you can’t quite bring yourself to believe what the students were saying. Even if it were true, one unshakeable fact remains: Voldemort would not die so easily. 

Little do you know, at that very moment, in Little Whinging, Surrey, young Harry Potter is placed on the Dursleys’ front porch. In a few hours, the very ordinary Dursleys will wake up to a very unordinary sight: a baby on their doorstep. For now, James and Lily’s son sleeps peacefully—with no knowledge of the horrible, gruesome events that took his parents from him.

Meanwhile, you’re left to the solitude of your office, an uncomfortable tension lingering in the air. An inexplicable shiver rolls down your spine; and it takes you a long time to fall asleep that night.

Eleven Years Later

You know very little about Harry Potter—or, “The Boy Who Lived,” as the Wizarding World has dubbed him. Admittedly, you are pretty uncomfortable with how easily the wizarding population seems to idolize the boy. He’s just a boy, after all. The story behind his parents’ death and Voldemort’s defeat is painted out to be a heroic feat for young Harry, but you can’t see past the tragic nature of it all. You seem to be in the minority in that regard. 

These days, Harry Potter is somewhat difficult to track down. At least, that’s what you glean from your brief conversation with Albus Dumbledore regarding the boy’s Hogwarts letter. Apparently, several letters have been sent to the home of his Muggle relatives—but they have gone so far as to relocate to a shack on a deserted island to prevent Harry from receiving his letter. The thought is troublesome. Albus requests that you deliver the boy’s Hogwarts letter in person and take him to Diagon Alley—where you’re also supposed to check on a vault at Gringotts. You grit your teeth and sigh. You’re not usually the one who has to visit families on account of Hogwarts, but McGonagall doesn’t have the time to meet with Harry. You’re the second choice, apparently. 

Your conversation with Albus then prompts you to find yourself standing outside the aforementioned seaside shack in the pouring rain. After a moment, you cast a Tempus charm, finding that it is now midnight on July 31st—reportedly, Harry’s birthday. You glance through the front window, only to find a thin, bruised boy sleeping on a shoddy hardwood floor. That must be Harry. His relatives are nowhere in sight—they must be occupying the other rooms. Somehow, you doubt that they are sleeping on the floor. The thought of Harry’s relatives treating him so callously fills you with irritation. 

After a moment’s contemplation, you unlock the door with an Alohomora charm and find yourself on the business end of a rifle—courtesy of Harry’s uncle, Vernon Dursley. You huff a laugh at the Muggle’s pseudo-bravery; it fades quickly when you cast a spell that makes his rifle melt into a puddle on the floor. You immediately elect to ignore Potter’s relatives and instead address the boy directly. You tell him that he’s a wizard. Predictably, he doesn’t believe you. 

“I’d be happy to explain further, Harry, but not in this company,” you say, with a glance at his relatives. His aunt and uncle are hovering awkwardly over their son, who is panting heavily after you momentarily cast an Ebublio Jinx to stop him from speaking. You hadn’t actually intended to drown him, of course, but his parents don’t seem to care about your intentions. You sigh and turn back to Harry. “I’ll stay here for the night. We’ll depart in the morning and I’ll show you to Diagon Alley, where you’ll get your school things.” Any further argument falls on determined ears as you cast an impromptu ward that prevents the Dursleys from stepping any closer to Harry and you.

You don’t sleep well that night—and Harry doesn’t either. It seems he doesn’t quite trust you yet—and, from what you can glean from his upbringing, you can’t entirely blame him. Instead of waiting until the morning, you decide to explain the circumstances of his birth and Voldemort’s return. It’s certainly a difficult conversation—you believe you’re far from the best person to be explaining all of that to him. You soon find yourself troubled by the fact that Harry didn’t know how his parents died; the Dursleys’ “car crash” story was beyond disrespectful.  

“So Voldemort—” Harry starts, after you’ve explained the circumstances of his birth; Hogwarts and your role as the Ancient Runes professor; and anything else you thought pertinent to mention. 

“It’s generally frowned upon to utter his name,” you interject instinctively. Harry blinks at you. 

“Then why do you say it?” Indeed, Harry noticed that you hadn’t refrained from saying Voldemort’s name. You take a deep breath, still struggling to come to terms with the fact that you’re the one tasked with introducing the boy to the Wizarding World. Something about that doesn’t feel quite fair. You didn’t know James and Lily well—while you were in the same year at Hogwarts, you hadn’t been friends with them. Harry is still staring at you expectantly and you have to take a moment to refocus your thoughts.  

“There is power in knowing someone’s name—recognizing their power—and choosing to acknowledge it,” you begin. “Avoiding the Dark Lord’s name only transfers accountability, and furthers the false notion that he is too powerful to be opposed by anyone.”

Harry is staring at you blankly and his eyes are almost saying “I have no idea what you just said.”  You smile and reach out to ruffle his hair, before remembering that he likely wouldn’t appreciate the gesture. Your hand falls to your side again and Harry just blinks confusedly. 

“You should get some sleep, Harry,” you suggest, changing the subject. “We have a long day ahead of us. I’ve cast a spell that prohibits any of your family members from entering this space, so you will be safe here.” Harry’s face is pinched and he stares at you for a moment, before shaking his head. You take a deep breath. He really should get some sleep—the two of you are going to have a lot to do, what with the travel to Diagon Alley and the shopping for school materials. He’s only eleven years old, so he needs the rest. You try to think of a way to assure Harry that he can trust you. Suddenly, you get an idea. “Here.” Harry stands at the object in his hand with thinly-veiled confusion and apprehension. 

“It’s my wand,” you explain. “A wand is a wizard’s most powerful accessory, weapon, and aid. A wand is the extension of a wizard’s power; without it, they can cast very little magic.” You decide to negate the existence of wandless magic for now. That’s something you can explain later. “I’m giving my wand to you to show that I mean you no harm.”

“I advise you not to try using my wand, both because it will likely not work and because underage wizards aren’t allowed to cast magic. When we go to Diagon Alley tomorrow—or, I suppose, later today—we’ll get you your own wand.” You hate to overwhelm the boy with all that information, but you fear that he’ll be overwhelmed regardless. He was being raised as a Muggle, after all. Harry isn’t familiar with anything from the Wizarding World. You notice the wary expression on his face and wait for him to question you about the purpose of a wand, the spells a person can cast with one. 

“You trust me with your wand?” Harry whispers quietly. His voice is unsure and, upon noticing this, your heart breaks a little.

“Yes,” you respond instinctively. You decide that more people need to show their trust and faith in the boy. Harry likely didn’t hear that often—if at all—during his childhood. The Dursleys treat him like he doesn’t exist. The thought makes your blood boil, but you resign yourself to thinking about that later. “Anyway, I’m going to try to sleep a bit. Feel free to do the same.” You conjure up two futons before reclining on the first one and closing your eyes. 

Before you can drift off, you remember what you’ve forgotten. “Harry?” you ask. He hums. “Happy birthday,” you whisper before closing your eyes. Sleep comes quickly, preventing you from comprehending his response.  

Hours later, your wristwatch goes off and jolts you from slumber. You blink and slowly push yourself up to a sitting position before chancing a glance at Harry. Harry is sleeping, thankfully. Your wand is in his hand. You’re not quite sure how to wake him. You settle for saying his name quietly and he wakes within a few seconds. The thought that he has to remain vigilant, even when he’s sleeping, is deeply troubling. In the short time you’ve spent in this clumsily built shack, you’ve learned a lot more about Harry Potter than you would’ve liked to know. 

You didn’t originally foresee having to spend the night in the shack, so you didn’t bring food. You tell Harry that you’ll stop for food before shopping. Harry watches as you pack up your things. You almost urge him to do the same, before realizing that he has next to nothing, save for the clothes on his back. You grit your teeth. Did Albus know about the nature of Harry’s upbringing? The mere possibility sickens you. You push the thought aside. For now, getting the boy’s school supplies is the priority. [That, and the vault key the headmaster trusted you with. Then again, you’re not too happy with Albus at the moment, so you’re keen to let that slip to the back of your mind.] 

“Dumbledore made us a Portkey; it’ll send us over to downtown London,” you explain, gathering the remainder of your things before beckoning for Harry to follow you. “A Portkey is an item that transports you to a predetermined location when you touch it."   

“Hold on, Harry,” you tell him once the two of you are situated outside of the shack. Harry stares at you for a moment, before you reach out and hold the worn old boot sitting on the ground. Harry looks extremely skeptical, but he grabs onto it and the world begins to swirl around you. 

Moments later, you’re falling down to a wooded area on a side street. You take a deep breath and turn around to look for Harry, only to find him sprawled on the ground. You bite down a laugh and walk over to him, offering a hand. He takes your hand and you pull him to his feet. “Is it always that unpleasant?” Harry asks. 

“No, you’ll get used to it,” you say reassuringly. You take a quick look at your surroundings, happy that you recognize where you are. You will only have to walk a few minutes to get to the cafe for breakfast. “Now, let’s grab something to eat.” You motion for Harry to follow you and he does so, albeit while still being shocked at his surroundings. 

By the time the two of you make it to the cafe, the novelty seems to have worn off for Harry. You’re sure he must be starving. You settle into a small table in the corner of the space, pleased that it isn’t very busy. A waitress stops by your table and asks for drinks, but the two of you end up just having water. When she returns and asks about food, you encourage Harry to choose whatever he’d like. He eventually decides on a chocolate croissant and, when the food arrives, the two of you eat in silence. 

After your pleasant breakfast, you pay the bill and head out with Harry. It doesn’t take you long to notice the stress that seems to string his shoulders together. The boy’s brows are furrowed. “You alright there, Harry?” You question. He flinches for a moment, as if torn out of his thoughts. 

“You said we were going shopping, but—” Harry breaks off, looking embarrassed, “I don’t have any money.” Your heart sinks at the shame on his face. He shouldn’t be ashamed of anything. Even if he were to truly have no money, Hogwarts has a funding program. However, Harry does have the money his parents left him—and you’re quick to tell him that. 

“Sure you do,” you remark. “You have access to everything your parents left you. It’s all in a vault in Gringotts.” At Harry’s questioning look, you explain. “Gringotts is a bank in Diagon Alley. It’s one of the biggest wizarding banks in the world. Your parents have an account there—Dumbledore instructed me to show it to you.” You were given explicit instruction not to give Harry the key, but you’re apprehensive about that. The Potter vault is rightfully Harry’s and no one else’s; even the headmaster can’t control that. 

Before long, the two of you are standing a short distance from the Leaky Cauldron. You earn Harry’s permission to disillusion him—once you mention that he’s famous, he’s quick to take you up on the offer—and the two of you manage to make it to the courtyard within a few minutes. The disillusionment spell wears off and Harry murmurs his gratitude, before staring at the brick wall in front of you with thinly-veiled trepidation. You smile at him, before tapping the correct brick. The wall slowly falls away to reveal the twisting streets of Diagon Alley. Shops line the pavement and pedestrians walk about. There’s an energetic buzz in the air; evidently, you’re not the only one going shopping for school supplies. 

You chance a sidelong glance at Harry, delighted to see an awestruck expression on his face. After giving him a few moments to look at it all, you reach down and extend an arm for him to hold. Diagon Alley is chaotic, even to someone familiar with it; you don’t want to lose Harry in the crowd. Harry takes your arm and the two of you walk along the cobbled path. 

“We’d better go to Gringotts first,” you remark, breaking Harry out of his reverie. Harry nods, although his attention is quickly captured by all the shops and stores lining the street. You promise him that you’ll visit many of the different shops once you visit the bank first, which seems to appease him for the moment.

Harry’s jaw falls open once you both enter the entrance hall of Gringotts. Indeed, the building is rather luxurious—with long, elegant pillars and well-carved desks scattered around the space. The sound of quills against parchment fills the air. You allow Harry to follow behind you as you approach the service desk and ask for a goblin’s assistance. Within moments, a goblin by the name of Griphook is leading you towards a mine cart and closer to the vaults. You don’t realize that you’ve neglected to explain goblins and other magical beings to Harry until he’s asking you about them in a hushed voice. 

You try your best to explain goblins, vampires, centaurs, werewolves, and more to Harry to the best of your ability. Funnily enough, Griphook occasionally chimes in with his own remarks. By the time Harry and you are finally at the vault, you’re certain that his head is likely spinning from all the information. You smile and motion for Harry to open the vault with the key you gave him. The look on his face as the vault door opens to reveal the Potter inheritance is priceless. You linger outside the door, but try to advise him to only take as much as needed. Harry eventually decides on taking a small amount. You assure him that it’ll be enough to last him the school year. 

“We have one more stop to make, unfortunately,” you say to Harry once he’s done in the Potter vault. The boy looks at you in confusion. Griphook nods and, with a wave of his hand, the mine cart is shooting down the rails once more. You can tell Harry is resisting the urge to ask about the vault you’re going to. You decide to tell him that Dumbledore sent you to retrieve something. You don’t want him to think that you’re keeping secrets from him; unfortunately, you know you can’t tell him any more than that. 

Upon arrival at the vault, you realize there’s nothing in it, save for a rather flimsy bag. You take the bag in hand and step out of the vault. Griphook sneers and mutters something under his breath, but you don’t hear it. You notice Harry warily glancing at the parcel in your hand as the cart makes its way back up to the lobby. 

“Thank you for your help, Griphook,” you remark, once you are back in the entrance hall. You watch Harry nod and send him a small smile, to which Griphook rolls his eyes and walks away. You resist the urge to laugh at the visible fascination on Harry’s face. You don’t blame him, of course. He didn’t grow up in the Wizarding World, so everyone and everything he’s seeing today is entirely new to him. 

After Gringotts, you decide to take Harry to the bookstore to pick up his textbooks. Harry gets all his required textbooks and a few other necessities. After that, the two of you head to The Apothecary for his Potions ingredients. 

Next, the two of you walk into Ollivanders. Harry gets his wand, albeit after thirty minutes. Ollivander seems to be on the verge of having an aneurysm, but the confused frustration on his face quickly fades to wary fascination as Harry finally finds his wand. Ollivander explains that the wand had a brother—one other wand with the same core, a phoenix feather. The other wand belongs to He Who Must Not Be Named. Ollivander is about to continue speaking, but you cut him off and catch Harry’s eye, looking to the door. He understands and follows after you. The two of you leave Ollivanders and you take a deep breath. That was unexpected. Harry is regarding the wand in his hand with a mix of excitement and fear. 

“Harry?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. Harry looks up to you in surprise, before nodding hesitantly. You bite your lip and try to find the right words. “You’re not worried about the wand being a brother to Lord Voldemort’s, are you?” 

Harry is silent. That is enough of an answer. 

“It’s okay,” you remark. “You share the same core and nothing more. Voldemort’s wand is likely made with different wood and is a different length. Besides, you’re not anything like him, Harry.” 

“Are you sure?” Harry murmurs, so quietly that you nearly miss it. It takes you a few seconds to recover from the emotional whiplash of that remark. 

“Positive,” you remark, your eyes suddenly burning for some reason. This boy… He deserves far better. 

And speaking of deserving better, it’s still Harry’s birthday. You get the feeling the Dursleys didn’t give him birthday presents. Harry has been rather pleasant company, and you feel that you should get something for him.“You probably didn’t have many pleasant birthdays with the Dursleys,” you start. Harry diplomatically keeps silent. “And, well, I’d like to get you something.” Harry blinks at you in disbelief. “I’m thinking I should buy you an owl; they’re really useful. How does that sound?”

“Brilliant.” Harry grins. You smile and lead him towards Eeylops Owl Emporium. Twenty minutes later, the two of you are exiting with a cage in hand. Inside, there’s a snowy white owl that chirps at Harry happily. The boy decides to name her Hedwig. 

“I hate to leave you, Harry,” you remark some time later, once you’ve left Diagon Alley and are outside the Leaky Cauldron. “But, unfortunately, I have to return to the castle and give this parcel to Dumbledore.” Harry nods as if he’d expected something along these lines. You frown. Despite your short time with the boy, you feel rather uneasy with the thought of leaving him to his neglectful relatives for the duration of the summer. You suppose you don’t exactly have a choice, though. If only there were something you could do for him… 

“I’m willing to bet those relatives of yours don’t know anything about magic,” you start. “So, they won’t know that underage magic is prohibited. I’m not encouraging you to perform any underage magic, but a gentle reminder of the fact that you can cast spells will probably be enough to prevent them from…  bothering you.” You nearly slip up and say “harm” at the end there, but you manage to save yourself. 

“Also, now that you have an owl…” you continue. “You’ll be able to send people letters. If you’d like, you can send me a few.”

“I’d like that.” Harry smiles. 

“Great.” You summon a piece of parchment and quill, before quickly scrawling out your address. “Just send Hedwig here. I have an owl too, so you can expect a timely response.” Harry nods and pockets the piece of parchment. “Now, let’s get you back to your relatives.” You hold out an arm and Harry takes it. 

Moments later, the two of you are standing on the sidewalk leading up to Number Four Privet Drive. Harry wobbles on his feet for a second before righting himself. You watch as Harry stands on the sidewalk, evidently not thrilled to be returning to his relatives. You can’t say you’re thrilled for him, either.

“Well, here we are,” you announce. You take a deep breath, wondering why you feel guilty for leaving the boy with his relatives. “I’ll see you soon, Harry. Enjoy the rest of your summer!” 

“Thank you,” Harry responds with a small smile. You hold your wand up and wink at him. His hand moves to his pocket and the smile on his face widens. You decide to wait on the sidewalk as Harry paces up to the front door and rings the doorbell. For a long moment, you’re convinced that his relatives won’t let him into the house. Eventually, his aunt steps forward and quickly ushers him into the house, glancing to the side as if making sure no neighbors are watching. Her eyes meet yours and she bristles, quickly shutting the door behind her. You grit your teeth and stare at the house for a moment, before shaking your head and Apparating to the Hogwarts grounds.

next chapter

endnotes: I can't believe I'm finally posting this!! My 71 page google docs draft is very thankful.

Despite that ^ I am not going to have any kind of update schedule. I'll post whenever I feel I've completed a chapter. No promises on when or how that will manifest.

I initially wanted to write Harry to be Sorted into Slytherin, but then I realized that would deviate too much and just end up making a whole murky mess of the timeline I already created. So... yeah.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed! I'm really looking forward to digging into this story. Mwhahahahahha.... AHHAAH... Whew, sorry. Had to get that out.

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You said, a little more loudly. Regulus opened one eye and looked at you a moment before reaching out and pulling you onto the couch with him. You shrieked at first, totally not expecting his action.

“Regulus, I swear god…”

“Don’t swear to him. We aren’t having any problems.”

Regulus said, before shooting you a little smirk. You rolled your eyes and tried to move to snuggle down against his side.

“Why don’t you just get up and go to bed? Clearly, you are half-wasted. How did you get home anyway?”

You asked as Regulus yawned.

“Evan, I don’t know how nor do I want to know. I feel fine though. I would feel better if you sat on my face.”

Your eyes widened your core instantly began to crave any attention that Regulus would give you.

“Regulus, did you really just…”

“I want you to sit on my face and make me feel better.”

Regulus replied before taking your hand and putting it on his hard cock. Biting your lip, you pressed your thighs together.

“Regulus, how can you even think of that when you are possibly hungover.”

Regulus opened both eyes before slipping his hand between your legs. Just as he suspected, you were wet.

“We are good at morning sex. It’s morning and licking your twat will make me feel even better. So, what do you say, princess? I mean, we don’t have to but you are pretty wet.”

Regulus was pleased when you quickly got off of the couch and shed your silk robe.

“That’s what I thought.”

Regulus replied in a haughty tone. You meanwhile, shook your head as you slowly positioned yourself on top of your lover.

“And you are a cocky shit”

You grumbled. Regulus chuckled before licking his lips. This was what he would wake up to every morning. As much as he enjoyed sex, he enjoyed spending his time with his face shoved between your legs. Regulus often teased you that you had the most beautiful pussy that he had ever seen. When you rolled your eyes and told him to fuck off, he would reply with “Well, it is…why don’t you think that I can’t get enough?”

Regulus let his eyes roll up to your face before licking the entire length of your slit. When you lightly gasped, Regulus continued to lightly explore with his tongue.

“Reggie, it feels so good.”

You sighed as he began to pay attention to your clit. He gently sucked at your clit a for a moment before shoving his face right back in. Regulus took a few breaths to glance up at your face.

“Of course, she has that look on her face. No other man would be able to make her come as I can.”

Regulus thought before reaching out to place his hands on your ass and push your body further onto him. Your head fell back as you tried to think of anything to stop yourself from coming. Regulus knew exactly how to touch you to make you come apart. Whether it was something simply like fingering you in the kitchen to your current position practically fucking his perfect face.

“I’m so close.”

You whimpered as Regulus licked up your clit. He pressed a kiss to the top of your mound before lying his head backward.

“Hurry up and come so I can take you to bed and get my cock wet.”

Regulus gave you a raised eyebrow scowl before going right back to attacking your clit. One more gentle nibble was all it took to send you spiraling over the edge.

As you recovered from your orgasm, Regulus maneuvered his way to standing. He tightened his arms around your body and started toward the bedroom.

“Come on, love, I need some loving.”

_____

The second time they met, it was late at night in the library, well past curfew, and he noticed she had been staring intensely at a book for nearly an hour without turning a page.

Sliding past her to replace a book, he noticed the drawing of a giant snake on the page. With all the petrifying happening recently, he knew that he should be scared, but with all the help she had been in potions as his partner, he couldn’t help but grow the slightest bit concerned for her.

Forgoing his book, he slid into the seat beside her disturbing her from her thoughts as she pulled her overly bushy hair back in a tie before facing him with a small, tense smile.

The third time they met, he silently cheered when she punched his so-called friend in the face.

For years, he had put up with his friends piss poor behaviour, all so that his father would be in his family’s good books. “It’s all business, you know,” his father would say, and he would have to keep his mouth shut, because he was 13, he didn’t know (and he didn’t know why his father would think he did).

Watching her land a punch after everything this year, he felt himself swell with pride. I taught her that, he thought to himself, not that he would ever tell anyone, not her Gryffindor friends, or worse, his Slytherin ones.

There were so many different levels of wrong with their friendship, if you had asked anyone else, not that they’d know. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor? A pureblood and a muggleborn? A member of the golden trio and one of Malfoy’s cronies? His friendship with her, he realised it was the first real thing in his life, and he would do anything to protect it.

The fourth time they met, he saved her from being overwhelmed by the overrated fool, Krum.

The famous quidditch player had been stumbling along the shores of the Black Lake, through the library, every possible quiet place he thought he could find. His only relief was the Slytherin common room, but that silence never lasted, not as long as Malfoy remained the prince of Slytherin.

Sitting on the shores of the Black Lake, his eye caught that of hers, and together they both rolled their eyes at the sound of Krum and his gaggle of gossiping girls that followed him.

Snapping his book shut, he scuttled over to her before the lump of a man could, and took a deep, shuddering breath.

The fifth time they met, his breath was taken away.

She was stunning in periwinkle-blue.

Remus decided it was time to cut in.

“Yes, you are being dramatic. If you were expecting Abby to suddenly accept you and act as if nothing happened then you are crazy. Sirius, you need to accept the fact that this is a lot for a 13-year-old girl to take in. Up until a few months ago, she was used to it just being Regulus and Y/n that she had to answer to. Now you are into the mix and it's a lot for a child. Sirius, you owe both Regulus and Y/n a few thousand thank yous.”

Sirius was silent for a moment. He hated admitting that Remus was right but he was. Sirius did owe both Regulus and yourself a lot.

“Damn it, Remus. Why do you always have to be right? I just hate having to face that snarky look on Regulus’ face when I thank him.”

Remus shook his head. Why he was slightly surprised that Sirius was acting like this was beyond him. Sirius always hated telling Regulus thank you or that he was right about something. That was most likely one of those things that would never change.

“Yes, you should. As Abby told you, you are also lucky to still have your brother. This is a chance for the two of you to hash out your differences and be brothers again. I would take it if I were you.”

Sirius sat back down and lost himself in his thoughts. Maybe Remus was right. This was a chance to work out his differences with Regulus. The only question was how would he go about it?”

“The next thing I know you are going to tell me to let go of the fact that I’m jealous of seeing Y/n so happy with Regulus.”

Remus leaned back in his chair.

“Since you brought it up…whatever you think can and would happen between Y/n and yourself…just don’t. Y/n loves Regulus and she won’t leave him. You burned that bridge a long time ago. If you try anything to mess with them I will take you out back and beat you.”

Sirius stared at Remus with wide eyes before nodding. While Sirius would agree to Remus’ demands, that didn’t mean that he wouldn't internally groan every time Regulus touched you in front of him.

“Okay, okay…I’ll be good.”

(meanwhile)

You were barely awake when there was a knock on the door. Regulus groaned before getting up and quickly dressing. You followed his lead and made the bed.

“If it’s Sirius, I swear I will punch him.”

Regulus grumbled as he opened the door. He was relieved to see Abby and Harry on the other side of the door. Abby looked annoyed while Harry was clearly on edge himself. Regulus couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Both of their lives were now in an uproar that neither asked for.

“Did he run you lot off that quickly? Not that I blame either of you for leaving. Being in the same room with him made me want to fight.”

Abby walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed with a frown on her face while Harry moved to the window. You couldn’t help but smirk at the visible resemblance between Abby and Regulus when they were annoyed at the same person. Turning your attention to Harry, you couldn’t help but think about how much he reminded you of James standing there.

Like Regulus, you too worried about how much having Sirius back in your lives and the new upcoming war with Voldemort would throw Harry and Abby’s lives into a complete tailspin?

“No…maybe…Remus told me to come find you both since other members of their Order possy are turning up. I did tell Sirius off a bit. He seemed slightly surprised.”

Regulus couldn’t help the smirk.

“You told him off?”

Abby chose to not mention the fact that she told Sirius about the horocrux. She would let Regulus assume that Remus let that ball drop on Sirius.

“Just that he owes you and mum a lot. There were some other things too but that isn’t important right now. What is important is how are we going to get along with the members of the Order that don’t like us…for whatever reason.”

Regulus briefly considered asking Abby “what other stuff” were said but decided to focus more on the lot of people that he was stuck in a house with. The last thing that Regulus really wanted to do was be involved with the order, however, he knew there was little choice. Regulus would much rather just things the four of you, just like they had been for so long.

The four of us.

That was exactly how it had been for some time. After inheriting Harry, “the three of us” became “the four of us” and that had always been enough for Regulus.

“Things will be just fine. It will take some getting used to but we’ll manage.”

You said, in a calming tone before going over to fix Abby’s hair. She looked up at you with a frown.

“That means that we have to be nice and social?”

She questioned, making you giggle. It didn’t matter that she was actually Sirius’ daughter…she acted just like Regulus.

“The two of you really have no chill.”

You replied. Regulus and Abby exchanged a frown that said “we hate people.”

“No, I just don’t like anyone down there. I didn’t like them as a kid and that really hasn’t changed now. I also haven’t forgotten that they all essentially ignored our presence until Harry and Abby became friends with Ron. Over the years, they could have at least checked in or remotely acted nice. I also haven’t really forgotten that they were supposed to be your friends. Friends don’t do each other the way that they dropped you like a bad habit.”

Regulus grumbled. He would forever have a slight dislike for every member of the order for how they treated you. It didn’t matter if Regulus was a death eater or not, they were your friends and should have been there for you.

How you were so kind and full of grace amazed Regulus. Your grace and dignity. That was two of the many things that Regulus loved about you. Even if someone did you down right dirty, most of the time you still acted with kindness. That didn’t mean that you wouldn’t put someone in their place if they needed to be, however.

“Dad is right. Mum.”

Abby replied, casually.

You turned your attention back to Regulus giving him a wary look. Abby calling the two of you “Mum” and “Dad” again had to be her way of asserting that the two of you being her parents would not change simply because Sirius was now in the mix.

“Right or not, we can’t just go down there and act like complete assholes.”

“Oh, I can.”

Regulus grumbled. You turned your attention to Harry, choosing to ignore Regulus’ comment.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

Harry shrugged.

“A bit uncomfortable, I guess.”

Regulus only had to agree with Harry on that one. This whole experience was about to be uncomfortable as hell.

“We might as well get this over with.”

Regulus murmured.

As expected, the dinner was an awkward meeting from hell. You found yourself sitting silently while members of the original Order carried on as if Regulus and yourself weren’t even there. You nearly made a comment a few times but decided not to. It didn’t seem to be worth it. Only Remus and Sirius made efforts to speak to the two of you. Regulus ignored both sitting in icy silence.

Both Molly and Arthur seemed almost afraid to speak to the two of you. Not that you really blamed them. From where they were sitting both Regulus and yourself had to seem pretty intimidating. Neither of you looked especially friendly. The two of you had to look like the stereotypical members of the House of Black at the moment…cold, icy, and haughty.

You were still a bit bitter about Molly abandoning your friendship when you married Regulus. Speaking to Molly about anything other than the children was almost too painful. You were not about to admit to Molly nor anyone else in the Order that they had hurt you. Old wounds were best left unspoken of and left in the dark. It seemed best, to you, to appear as if their abandonment really caused you no emotional harm at all. If there were one thing that you learned from having Walburga Black as a mother-in-law it would be to be able to hide your true emotions like a champ.

For Regulus, the dinner was just as awkward for him as it was for you…even if he didn’t let on. He, like you, was also thankful that his family taught him the art of being stoic and appearing “unfeeling.” It didn’t matter how many times Sirius nor anyone else, for that matter, tried to speak to him or appeared to try to get a rise out of him Regulus didn’t crack.

He wasn’t sure why anyone in The Order wanted anything to do with him anyway? To them, he was a death eater. He was dangerous. It didn’t matter the good that he did. It wouldn’t matter that he nearly died trying to stop Lord Snakeface. So what if Regulus wrecked his body trying to stop Voldemort? None of it would make any difference to anyone in this room (except you). In The Order’s eyes, Regulus would always be “tainted.”

“And in a way, I suppose that I am just fine with that.”

Regulus thought coldly. He would much rather someone hate him for some hair-brained stupid idea than blow smoke up his ass and pretend to care for him.

The next morning, Regulus sat at the kitchen table reading The Daily Prophet when Sirius came into the room. He didn’t look up from the newspaper as his older brother sat down. Regulus quietly tried to focus on the words in front of him instead of thinking about the last time that he and Sirius were in this room together.

The morning before he left…before everything changed…

Sirius, meanwhile, sat quietly for a moment. He wanted to say something to Regulus. The silence was making him nutty!

“So, don’t speak to me all at once.”

Sirius finally commented. Regulus didn’t look up from the newspaper.

“What would you like me to say?”

He questioned, keeping his voice cold and emotionless. Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Reggie. Just say something, anything. This silence…I don’t like it. You can tell me that you hate me if you want.”

Regulus still didn’t look up. The annoyance of Sirius calling him “Reggie” was starting to simmer.

“My name is Regulus. Don’t ever call me Reggie again, if you want to live.”

Regulus’ casual threat didn’t bother Sirius much. As kids, Regulus threatened to kill Sirius at least once a day. Being an adult and doing it seemed to be no different.

“Y/n calls you Reggie.”

Sirius commented.

“Y/n is my wife. She can call me anything that she likes. You…well we both know what you are to me.”

Sirius groaned.

“Right, I’m the blood traitor. I’m the one who shamed the most ancient and noble house of Black…blah blah blah I’m a no-good bastard that ran off and left everything to you.”

“Now I don’t have to say it.”

Regulus replied. He half expected Sirius to start yelling at that. When he didn’t Regulus took a breath.

“I wasn’t going to say any of that because none of its true. You made your choice because that was what was best for you. It didn’t matter if that meant leaving me in this house and making me feel as if I truly meant nothing at all to you. My suggestion is just to let all of that shit go because I don’t want to say anything more about it.”

Sirius sighed. There it was. That was the truth that he needed to hear. He did hurt Regulus and Regulus hadn’t forgotten it.

“It wasn’t to hurt you. I would have taken you with me but I knew that you wouldn’t go. That’s why you were the good son.”

Regulus finally looked up from his newspaper.

“Sirius, I said that I do not want to talk about what happened. It's over and time we both moved on. Neither Y/n nor Abby needs the aggravation.”

Sirius remained quiet for a moment.

“Abby said that I owe both Y/n and yourself a few thousand thank yous for everything and she’s right. I appreciate you taking her in and looking after her…”

Regulus only nodded.

“I would hope that you would have done the same for me, had shoes been on the other foot.”

“You know that I would. Regulus, I get that we aren’t best buddies anymore but you are still my brother. I also know that I did Y/n wrong with the whole getting another girl pregnant but…she seems genuinely happy with you. I think that we both know that I would never have made any kind of a decent husband. She deserves to be happy.”

Regulus again looked up. Sirius was definitely right about that one. You deserved to be happy more than anyone else in the world.

“Yes, she does deserve to be happy and I’m happy that I am able to be the one to make her happy.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair and looked around the kitchen.

“Tell me that mum and dad were halfway decent to her.”

Regulus finally gave up on reading his newspaper and sat it down. There was no way that he was going to escape Sirius.

“Believe it or not, I think that Mum and Dad liked her better than she did either of us. I think that they felt awfully shitty about her family disowning her for loving me. They saw it as an act of revenge for stealing a Potter child since the Potters got you. Dad adored her. He said that she was the one bright spot in our family and I couldn’t agree more. Marrying her was the one thing that I did to make that man proud.”

Before Sirius could respond, Abby walked into the room. She gave Sirius a wary look before going over to Regulus.

“Where is mum?”

Regulus turned to Abby, raising an eyebrow at her seemingly nervous demeanor.

“She went shopping to get some things to brighten this haunted house up a bit. She should be home soon. What’s wrong?”

Abby chewed on her bottom lip. She looked between Regulus and Sirius before speaking again.

“Can you call her and have her come home?”

“Abby, what is it?”

Regulus asked, keeping his voice calm and even. Abby muttered a few words quietly and all crammed together. Regulus blinked a few times.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Sirius decided to try his hand.

“I know that I am getting old but I did not hear a word of that.”

Abby finally groaned.

“I got my period, okay?!”

She turned and stormed from the room without another word. Sirius’ mouth dropped while Regulus acted as if nothing happened.

“So do we take her to the hospital?”

Sirius finally asked as he stood up to pace around the room. Regulus rolled his eyes and shoved his newspaper away. This morning just kept getting better! All Regulus wanted to do was read the newspaper in peace. That definitely wasn’t happening now.

“Tell me that you don’t know a thing about women without telling me that you don’t know a thing about women. I’ll handle this while you be the designated basket case of stupid.”

Sirius only nodded.

“Regulus, I owe you one.”

Regulus stood up and moved to walk out of the room.

“You owe me a few thousand things.”

_____

Regulus could hear James’ mother-hen comments now. Unlike James, however, you weren’t completely obnoxious in your dislike for Regulus. You simply avoided Regulus until the day that he and James got into it. As Regulus expected, you came right to your brother’s defense and told Regulus that he had “bird legs.”

“Didn’t she tell you that you had bird legs?”

Regulus looked up at Sirius’ question before raising an eyebrow.

“I was actually just thinking of that. Yes, she told me that I had bird legs when I told James off for being a twat. Man, that little girl hated me.”

“Until third year, when you both got whacked by the puberty fairy and Slughorn played cupid.”

Regulus chuckled. Sirius, again, wasn’t wrong. This was probably one of Regulus’ favorite memories…

Third year had just started. Regulus was moodier than normal over the prospect of starting yet another year of hell. While he looked forward to being away from his parents, he dreaded being back in school and having to be someone that he really didn’t want to be.

Walking into potions, Regulus sat down with a groan. He hid near the back of the room not wanting anyone to really see him. Over the summer, Regulus had grown a bit over the summer and his voice had deepened. It was driving him nuts. Since being back at school the night before Regulus couldn’t count how many girls were looking at him now.

The moment that you walked into the room, Regulus felt his mouth drop. You too had changed and you were…breathtaking. Regulus’ eyes moved from your now longer hair to your breasts….

“Oh Merlin, I am turning into my brother!”

Regulus thought before putting his head down on the desk. The last thing that he wanted was for you to catch him drooling.

“Ms. Potter, your partner for the year will be Mr. Black.”

Regulus’ head snapped up at that comment. He knew that he was looking at you with wide eyes as you walked over and sat down. Regulus didn’t know whether he should thank Slughorn or fake a heart attack and die.

“Hello, Regulus.”

Your voice was soft and kind. There was no longer any trace of dislike.

“Hello, Y/n.”

Regulus replied. He watched as your eyes flickered over to him, just like the other girls that “just” recognized his existence. You pressed your lips together before lightly clearing your throat.

“I know that we typically insult each other nonstop but how about we get along? It will make the year easier on both of us.”

You commented. Regulus took a breath before speaking.

“That would be nice.”

Regulus pulled himself from the memory. That was the beginning of the perfect friendship. After that first day, the two of you were inseparable. You turned out to be the best friend that Regulus had EVER had! In all of his life, he had never had someone like you to grace his miserable existence. You cared about him, asked questions about how things made him feel, and most importantly you made him feel wanted. Feeling wanted was exactly what Regulus needed and he had no idea about it.

Things changed even further in the fourth year. The two of you kissed for the first time not long after school started. You were the first to say “I love you” and it had come right before the Christmas holiday. Regulus had been totally stunned by those three little words that he nearly didn’t say it back.

“You mean that you love me? Like you actually love me?”

Regulus mumbled, with red cheeks. You stared at him as if he had grown three heads. Saying “I love you” to people wasn’t anything new to you. You had been told that you were loved all of your life. Regulus, on the other hand, had never been told that.

“Yes, Regulus. I love you. I really love you.”

Regulus stared at you again for a few moments. You stood with your arms around his waist, clearly wondering if you had said the right thing or if you were scaring him away.

“Wow…I mean…I love you too, Y/n. I have been in love with you for so long. I just had no idea how to say it.”

“You said it perfectly.”

You replied, before standing on your tiptoes to kiss him once again.

After the first “I love you,” things between the two of you were perfect. Regulus was happy with everything in his life. Going to school was no longer hated. He had you. Regulus had everything that he could possibly need with you. This was the “heaven” period of his life.

Unfortunately, as all things seemed to do this time ended. In sixth year, the war started. Things at Hogwarts become tense. It wasn’t just Hogwarts, it was everywhere. Everything was in complete chaos and uproar.

This was the time that Regulus really began to see your devotion to him. He didn’t hide the fact that Voldemort was trying to recruit him. Regulus told you everything. He expected you to leave him with this news. Regulus expected you to wash your hands of ever knowing him and he would lose the most important person in his life…but you never did.

Instead of walking away, you pushed forward. You begged him to not consider it, even if this was what his parents wanted.

“You’re better than this, Regulus. Voldemort wants you because you’re smart. He also wants you because of your family name. Don’t let him turn you into something that you’re not. You’re not a killer. Leave your family and come to mine. My parents will let you stay with us. You’ll be safe and we can be together all of the time. Please don’t go dark. I need you. I love you and want to be with you forever.”

Regulus had read your letter multiple times before pulling on his black suit jacket. You wanted him with you and that was enough. With you, Regulus didn’t have to be a killer. With you, he could have the love that he wanted..

“My princess will always get what she wants.”

Regulus mumbled before leaving his parents a goodbye letter and walking out of Grimmauld Place.

That led to now. The war was now over. Voldemort had been dealt with and the madness was over.

Just as Regulus had promised, you would always get what you wanted. Once the war was over and things were safe, Regulus bought the diamond. Never in a million years, did Regulus think that he would ever get married but with you, it was a no-brainer.

Regulus closed his eyes as he thought about the proposal. You immediately answered with a yes before practically knocking him down with a hug.

“Yes! I’ll marry you and love you forever.”

Regulus smiled from his place on the floor as you curled around him like a giant cat.

“I was afraid that you would say no.”

You poked your head up before pulling Regulus into a long kiss.

“Are you kidding? I would never say no.”

Sirius talking pulled Regulus from his thoughts.

“It's time.”

(meanwhile)

You stood as your mother put the finishing touches on your veil. Euphemia smiled her warm loving smile as she looked you over. You were the vision of the perfect bride.

“You look beautiful, sweetheart. I only wish that your father could have been here for this. He would think you are the most beautiful bride in the world.”

You couldn’t agree more.

“Me too, Mum.”

You exchanged a small smile with your mother before James lightly knocked on the door and stepped inside. He gave you a smile before speaking.

“You look stunning…even though you are marrying Regulus.”

James gave you a playful smirk to let you know that this was just his humor. You turned giving your brother a frown.

“I didn’t make a fuss when you married Lily…even though she is amazing.’

James grinned, proudly.

“Yeah, she is. Not everyone can marry someone so amazing. Luckily, Regulus can say that too. He struck gold when he landed you.”

You sprayed a little perfume on your neck before speaking. Both Regulus and yourself were lucky. Not one of you was more “lucky” than the other. The two of you loved each other more than words could express. You knew that Regulus had your back just as you would always have his. That was the best makings for a wonderful marriage.

Euphemia looked between her children with a pleased motherly expression.

“I can only hope that the two of you will have long happy marriages as I did.”

You gave James a smile as he looked down at his watch.

“Well, time to get you married. I’m sure Regulus has been waiting for a while The man shows up everywhere freakishly early.”

You gave your brother an eye roll before taking the arm that he held out to you. Neither of you said a word when reaching the start of the aisle.

“Here’s your chance to take me up on my offer of running the hell away. I have a vault full of money that will get you anywhere that you could possibly want to be.”

You gave James a glare. Your older brother sighed before shrugging.

“Okay, okay I get it. You are going to marry the man and play house with him.”

You quietly giggled.

“Yeah, we are going to play house and make a baby.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at the grossed-out expression on James’ face.

“I did not want to think about that!”

“I mean Regulus and I have a lot of sex.”

“Y/n, you have got to stop.”

James mumbled.

“You started it.”

You replied. There was an uncomfortable silence before James spoke again.

“In all seriousness, you really do look beautiful and he’s lucky to have you.”

You squeezed James’ arm with a pleased smile.

“Thank you.”

You took another deep breath as the double doors opened. James gave you a nod before walking forward. Unlike James, you didn’t like a lot of eyes on you. Your wedding day or not, you felt the nerves begin to rise as everyone turned to look right at you.

You gave a small gracious smile before looking straight at Regulus. His mouth dropped momentarily before turning into an instant smile the moment that he saw you. You didn’t want to forget that particular facial expression from Regulus for as long as you lived.

James squeezed your hand.

“That look tells me all that I need to know.”

James whispered. He was pleased that Regulus looked like the happiest man on the planet. James was afraid that Regulus would look at you with that bored expression that he wore 95% of the time. The last thing that James wanted was for you to be sad on your wedding day. Thankfully, James clearly didn’t have to worry.

At the end of the aisle, Regulus stepped forward to eagerly take you from your brother. James gave him a look that said “You fuck this up, I’ll fuck you up.” Regulus really couldn’t blame James for being a protective brother. He would most likely feel the same if the roles were reversed.

Holding out his hand, Regulus smiled when you didn’t hesitate to grab onto him. You gave him a sweet smile before stepping closer.

“You look beautiful!”

Regulus said in a soft whisper. You squeezed his hand wanting nothing more than to wrap your arms around his neck and know that he was yours forever.

“Have you seen how great you look?”

You replied, earning a smirk from Regulus. As the minister started talking, you found yourself glancing back to Regulus. You couldn’t help but be proud of him. Not only did you have the best-looking groom on the planet but he was everything that you could have wanted.

This has been a long time coming…

You thought with a smile. Of all of the negativity that the two of you had been through over the years…it was all worth it. The two of you were soon-to-be man and wife. Nothing would disturb that. There was no longer a war to worry about, the worries of death, nothing…just happiness.

“Kiss you bride.”

The three words that you wanted to hear the most were finally uttered. Regulus turned to look at you once more with a smug little smile before leaning forward. You waited all of two seconds before eagerly stepping forward as Regulus’ mouth met yours. The kiss was soft, everything that the first kiss of a husband and wife should be.

Regulus was the first to pull away. He leaned his forehead against yours to savor the moment.

“Forever.”

He murmured before going back in for another kiss. You placed a hand on his cheek before nuzzling your nose against his.

“Forever and ever.”

_______