#remus l

His eye widened and he glanced down, causing you to follow his gaze to his bare chest, and then look down at your own.

“Holy shit!” He yelled, startled, jumping backwards as you grabbed the red comforter to cover your exposed chest.

You pulled it too far, yanking it off the rest of his body and revealing far more of James Potter than you wanted to see in a sober state.

You averted your eyes, your cheeks flushing red.

“Like what you see L/N?” James asked cockily, never missing an opportunity to piss you off no matter how bad the situation was.

“Put some bloody pants on Potter,” you retorted, “what the hell did you do?”

James shuffled around beside you until he pulled a pair of boxers out from under the bed.

“What did I do?” he snapped, “you're the one in my room!”

“Clearly this is your fault,” you countered, not being able to even fathom the idea of willingly sleeping with a prick like James Potter. “You put something in my drink!”

The reason for your pounding head had finally come back to you as you recalled the raging party in the Room of Requirement last night that you had gone to with your roommate Emmaline Vance. You didn’t remember much more after the first hour, when all the Firewhiskey you had been drinking fully set in.

James gave you a look of disgust. “The fact that you think I would stoop so low as to drug you is insulting. In case you forgot, you were the one that came up to me.”

You gave him a blank stare.

James’s lips twisted up into a smile. “You really don’t remember L/N?”

“Wait tell me what happened,” you commanded, hoping at least one ounce of your dignity remained.

James continued to smirk. “I think not, this is far too good.”

Your jaw dropped. “You're going to blackmail me.” You accused continuing to glare at him and doing your best not to stare at his sculpted chest. James Potter was a lot of things, but ugly wasn’t one of them and unfortunately he knew that.

“Now that you suggested that, it’s not a half bad idea,” he mused, not helping but find amusement in the way your fists clenched at his comment. 

There were actually quite a few amusing things about this predicament. Not only had the Slytherin Princess woke up in his bed with no idea how she got there, but she was also wearing only a comforter and kept periodically ogling at his bare chest, the reason he hadn’t put a shirt on throughout their whole conversation.

You glared at him. “I hate you,” you seethed, turning sharply to gather your clothes that were thrown about the dorm.

As you reached down to pick up your discarded bra, your head suddenly cleared enough to allow a flood of memories from the previous night to resurface.

You stumbled back, falling onto another one of the beds in the dorm and burrying your face in your hands as everything came back.

~

You were beyond drunk by now, yet that didn’t stop you from grabbing another Firewhiskey from the makeshift bar and taking a swig. You stumbled back onto the dance floor in the Room of Requirement, trying to find your friend Emmaline Vance, but by the way she had been snogging Rosier you assumed she had already left with him.

An obnoxious laugh sounded from beside you and as you drunkenly turned to find its source, your eyes landed on a figure snogging another Sytherin in the corner. 

Your hand clenched on the bottle of alcohol as you glared at Mulciber. He had dumped you not three days earlier and every time you saw him your blood boiled. He looked up from the thin pretty girl he had been kissing, feeling eyes on him. A large smirk filled his face when his gaze landed on you. Winking, he pulled the girl back in, causing her to let out a loud giggle as he kissed her once more, one hand in her hair and the other on the small of her back just like he used to do with you.

Angrily, you took a long drink from your Firewhiskey and stormed off in the other direction, looking for a distraction.

You found that in the form of James Potter, who had just separated himself from his obnoxious group of friends and was making his way over to grab another drink. Mind you it wasn’t a positive distraction, but the hate you felt for James Potter far outnumbered that of Mulciber and was enough to take your mind off the current circumstances.

James's eyes landed on you the moment he reached the bar and a large smirk filled his face. He never missed a moment to piss you off, and in turn, you tried to do the same.

Since first year you had been at each other's throats. Him the proud Gryffindor and you the haughty Slytherin, you were bound to clash. Over seven years he had doused you with water balloons, exploded your cauldron, and bewitched your broom more times than you could count, and in turn you had been snarky and rude right back.

“Hello Sunshine,” he drawled, taking a swig from his bottle and watching in amusement at the way your lips pursed in annoyance.

Merlin you hated that nickname. He had been calling you that since third year, declaring that it was because of your sunny personality.

“Fuck off Potter,” you snapped, only causing him to move closer.

“Tsk tsk, Y/N, language,” he reminded, ever the one to point out when you cussed.

You rolled your eyes. “Excuse me, I should have said fuck you.”

James raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think ‘off’ was the problem. And as nice as that offer is, I’ll pass.”

You gagged at the comment, thoroughly disgusted with the thought.

James caught your reaction and exclaimed, “I’m hurt, I’m actually quite good at fucking if I do say so myself.”

You smirked. “Why, because you do it with Lily so much?”

James’s smile faltered for a brief moment and you knew you had hit a soft spot. Lily’s constant rejection was one of the few things he still struggled to laugh off.

“That was a low blow, L/N,” he grumbled, still trying to regain some dignity.

“You deserve it,” you scoffed, pushing past him.

James caught your arm, pulling you back. “And why is that so, Sunshine?”

The use of the nickname was enough to stop your struggle and make you turn towards him. “Because you’re a prick Potter.” You snapped, “All’s you do is try to piss me off every second of the day. I fu- excuse me, frickin hate you!”

James smirked as his ability to get you riled up. It had become far too easy. Testing his luck at not getting hexed he added a simple, “love and hate aren't all too different.”

You were momentarily so shocked that you completely froze, causing James to do a double take to make sure you were still okay. Slowly you turned, every word coming from your mouth filled with nothing more than seething anger and hatred.

“How could you think I could possibly love you?”

James grinned. “I think you already know that. I think you only say you hate me because you don’t want to admit to yourself how much you like me. I think you say snarky things to get a reaction out of me, hex me to get detention with me, I think you, Y/N L/N are secretly in love with me.” 

With that you slapped him, hard, across the cheek. “I could never love, or even remotely like, an arrogant, rude, spoiled, fucked up bully, like yourself.”

And with that you downed the rest of your drink, grabbed another, and stormed away from him. You had completely forgotten about Mulciber.

James stared after you, watching the way you stumbled into a Ravenclaw, shaky on your tall heels from the sheer amount of alcohol in your system. He too was in shock by his own words, but not like how you were from the outrage of even the thought, but rather how true they actually were. True to himself.

Standing there, James struggled to realize when the hate for you had begun to morph into the opposite, a steady subtle desire. He was the one that pranked you to get a reaction, filled the Sytherin common room with nifflers just to see you run out, got you both in detention just to spend a few more minutes with you. His mind had tricked him, convinced him that he was only doing it to get you back because he hated you so much, but really he was just a little first year, making fun of the girl he liked in hopes that she’d notice him.

James shook his head, there were only so many deep thoughts he could handle in one day.

~

It was roughly a half hour later when James ran into you again, this time on the dance floor where you crashed into him, spilling your Firewhiskey all down your dress.

“Whoops, sorry,” you giggled, falling into his chest.

James raised an eyebrow. You were beyond wasted, and he figured his speech might have done something to help with that. He too had plenty of alcohol in his system, but at least he could still walk straight, for the most part.

“James!” you said enthusiastically, clutching his shoulders for balance. “I was just thinking about you!”

“Were you now?” James asked, partially surprised by your use of his first name and that you seemed so happy to see him.

“What you said earlier…” you trailed off, your drunken mind trying to find the right words. “I don’t think I entirely hate you.”

This caught James even more by surprise. “Did someone put something in your drink?”

You laughed loudly as if he had just said the funniest joke you’d ever heard. “Why?” 

“I don’t think you understand what you just said. You just claimed-” he paused to catch you as you tripped over your heels, almost falling into a dancing couple, “-that you don’t hate me.”

“And?” you asked, as if what you had meant was obvious.

“And you’re supposed to hate me, but clearly drunk you can’t figure that out.”

“They say alcohol speaks the truths you yourself won’t admit,” was all you replied, your grip on his shoulders tightening as you pulled yourself closer. For the first time you realized how hard his muscles were where they pressed against your torso. You looked up at his lips surprised by how much you wanted to kiss him right then.

“Kiss me,” you blurted, causing James’s eyes to widen.

“Sunshine your drunk.”

For once you didn’t recoil at the use of the nickname. “Please James,” you pleaded, “just once.”

James looked down at you. The urgency and need was such a contrast to your usual hard sarcastic tone. “You know what, fuck it.” He downed the rest of his Firewhiskey, dropping the red solo cup to the floor, and crashed his lips against your own.

It was a sloppy drunk kiss, filled with the unknown need for the other. You could taste the alcohol in his mouth as your tongue explored it, battling for dominance with his own. He pushed you backwards, not once breaking the kiss as the two of you stumbled until you hit a wall.

“Jump,” James muttered huskily.

You barely hesitated, wrapping your legs around his waist, gripping his neck for support. You kissed him hard. Pouring all your hate and annoyance with him into it. Your fingers knotted into his curls and pulled him closer.

James’s fingers dug into your thighs as he gripped you tighter, pressing into your bare legs. Your breath hitched as his mouth moved from your lips and trailed around your jaw and down your neck. His teeth nipped at the skin under your ear, and you let out a low moan. He sucked at the skin there, surly to leave a mark, causing you to arch your back in pleasure.

“James,” you whispered breathlessly, dragging his mouth back up to yours. “I. Want. You,” you managed to get out between kisses.

This time James didn’t even hesitate, for the last bottle of Firewhiskey he had already set in and all rational thinking was lost.

“My room,” was all he said, releasing your hips so you could stumble rather ungracefully back onto the floor. He gripped your hand tightly, leading you out of the Room of Requirement.

~

“No no no no no,” you groaned, burying your face in your hands.

“What’s wrong, Sunshine, having some regrets?” James asked in amusement.

“Don’t call me that,” you grumbled, though you knew the argument was pointless.

“You're in my room with no clothes on, wearing my comforter. I don’t think you can tell me what I can and can’t call you.”

Your eyes narrowed. “We do not speak of this again,” you glowered, your proud demeanor appearing once more.

Keeping the fluffy red blanket wrapped tight around you, you hastily searched the room for your discarded clothes. You came up with a pair of underwear under Sirius’s bed, your bra thrown in a corner, and your alcohol stained dress tossed carelessly near the door.

Your nose scrunched at the strong smell of Firewhiskey that emitted from the had-been gorgeous dress as you picked it up. Pinching it between your index finger and thumb, you made a face at having to put that back on again to leave. It was damp and sticky around a brownish discolored stain right in the middle, and reeked of booze.

James, noticing your distaste with the dress, quietly laughed. “That happened when you oh so gracefully threw yourself into my arms demanding that I kiss you.”

You chose to ignore him, instead balling it up with the rest of your clothes to go change in his bathroom.

“Hey, Sunshine,” James called after you. “Don’t wear that. You and I both know it needs a heavy washing and that you shouldn’t be caught dead in it.”

You didn’t even acknowledge that he spoke.

“Y/N,” he finally tried, causing you to stop and turn when he didn’t refer to you as Sunshine.

He tossed you a grey T-Shirt. “At least put that on instead.”

You unfolded the shirt, its large AC DC print staring back at you.

“I’m not wearing your shirt,” you deadpanned, preparing to toss it back to him.

James rolled his eyes. “Can you just suck up your pride for once and let me try to help you? Just put the damn shirt on. It doesn’t mean anything, you could burn it for all I care, but don’t make yourself walk back in that stained dress.”

This time you were the one to raise an eyebrow. “Is James Potter being nice to me?” you asked in fake surprise, though in reality you were still trying to wrap your head around the idea. “That is certainly a first.”

“Don’t get your hopes up, this is a one time deal,” James replied, fishing through his trunk then tossing you a pair of blue plaid boxers. “Don’t worry, they're clean,” he said, before you could ask. “Now you don’t have to walk around in your underwear.”

“Thanks,” you muttered stiffly, shutting the door to the bathroom.

Though they were quiet and rather forced, James still heard your words and smirked widely.

“Is that a ‘thank you’ I heard?” he called through the closed door.

“No it wasn’t Potter,” you shot back.

You pulled his T-shirt over your head, startled by the strong smell of lemon and mint that emitted from it. It actually smelled quite nice. But that thought was shoved from your mind as fast as it came. Instead, you focused on making yourself look at least somewhat decent as to not lose any more of your dignity than you already had. You combed through your knotted hair with your fingers, pulling it out of your face. Your eyes widened as you did, your gaze landing on a large red mark just below your right ear.

“Potter!” you shrieked, throwing open the door to the bathroom.

James jumped in surprise, now wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight white shirt that did nothing to hide his muscles.

“What is this,” you growled lowly, pointing to the area just below your right ear.

James’s eyes widened in surprise. Though you couldn’t be positive, you were pretty sure you could see a blush rise on his cheeks.

“You. Gave. Me. A. Hickey.” Each word came out clipped, quiet, and dangerous.

James rightly backed up in fear, raising his hands in surrender. “Look, Sunshine, I’m sorry-”

“I fucking hate you James Potter!” you shouted, storming from his room.

You all but ran down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor common room, anger bubbling up inside you. You ducked your head, allowing your messy hair to cover your face along with the large red mark you couldn’t bear to think about. You were beyond furious.

~

You didn’t acknowledge James all weekend. You didn’t look at him, you didn’t yell at him, you didn’t even hex him. Instead you pretended he didn’t even exist. In turn, James didn’t bother you either. No one found this unusual as you two had always been known to dislike each other, and the silent treatment seemed to indicate nothing had changed.

The only person you told was your roommate Emmaline, who swore she wouldn’t tell a soul. James must not have told anyone either, as no nosy first years showed up to ask questions.

You stalked into charms, head high, and a large scarf wrapped around your neck. You took your seat where you always did, three rows from the front, and pulled out your books.

“-and I was like BAM! that’s how you score McKinnon!” you heard, catching the tail end of their conversation as the Marauders flounced into the classroom.

You could hear the shuffling of them sitting down in the back of the room, but didn’t turn your head to look.

“A bit warm for a scarf, don’t you think?” you heard a voice say lowly, causing your back to stiffen. You stared straight ahead, but James Potter was persistent.

“You left these in my room the other day,” he said, and a pair of pantyhose fell into your lap. “They were tangled up with my pants.”

Your lips pursed and you felt your cheeks heat up, but you didn’t give James the satisfaction of turning to snap at him. You could feel eyes on you though, as it was a rare occurrence when you and James could be in the same proximity without screaming at each other. And though he had spoken quietly, you knew those in the desks next to you had heard every word he’d said.

“By the way Sunshine-” he leaned in closer to your ear, his breath tickling your skin. “-I would like my shirt and boxers back.” 

“Too bad, I already burned them,” you muttered back, finally turning to look at him. “You did say I could.”

James smirked. “Sure you did,” he winked. “You’re probably sleeping in them cause they smell like me.”

The slight gasp you heard from the Hufflepuff in the desk in front of you was enough to tell you that she had heard everything. That was the last straw.

“Petrificus totalus!” you suddenly yelled, sending James flying backwards as his body froze.

“What on earth is going on here!” a squeaky voice shouted.

You turned to see Flitwick standing in the doorway. You rarely saw the small professor this angry.

“Prof-”

“Don’t even try to make excuses, Y/N,” he said, flicking his wand to release James. “You two, Professor McGonagal’s office now, and 30 points from Slytherin and Gryffindor. I will let the deputy headmistress deal with this.”

Angrily, you grabbed your things and stormed out of the classroom.

“You little prat,” James grumbled, only a few steps behind you as the two of you stalked down the hallway. 

“You deserved that and more after bringing you know what up in front of everybody.” You snapped. 

James waved aside your reasoning. “No one knows what I meant, you just overreacted.”

You stopped causing James to almost run into you. “I overreacted?” you challenged hotly. “You brought my pantyhose to class saying I left them in your room! Only a stupid person would not be able to guess what happened.”

“Fine, fine, I guess I could have been a bit more subtle,” James conceded, holding his hands up in surrender. “But what is your problem? You were drunk, you did something you're not proud of, it happens. Get over it. In case you don’t know, we’re in this boat together but I’ve already put that behind me.”

“Don’t you get it?” you asked, trying to put some sense into him. “We’re supposed to hate each other, this shouldn’t happen. I can’t have anyone finding out about this, or where would I be? But you, you don’t care. You try to hint at it has much as you can, push me over the edge just so you can laugh at me as I fall.”

“I do that to get a reaction out of you. I realized that the other night. You were right with what you said, alcohol does speak the truths you never realized, and I did that.” For once in his life, James was serious. Somehow you could tell this wasn’t a joke and that kept you rooted where you were instead of pushing past him.

“I like you, Sunshine,” he continued, “and to be honest I’m not entirely sure why. You piss me off more than anyone I know, but for some reason I keep coming back for more, and maybe that has something to do with it. It might be your sarcasm, humor, or the way you always know a good comeback, but whatever it is, it’s something that draws me back to you. And though I can be a total ass about it, I care about you. You’re a little ray of sunshine in my day.”

You stared silently at him, trying to process all he had said.

Finally you said quietly, “I like our little fights.”

James grinned. “Is that so? Do explain what you mean by that.”

“I will not give you another thing to tease me about Potter.”

“That’s not how it works, Sunshine,” James countered, “You already started to say it, now you have to finish it.”

“No, I’m not doing that,” you argued weakly, though you knew the fight was useless.

“Y/N, I just spilled my guts, now it’s your turn.”

“Promise you won’t make fun of me?” you asked.

James smiled. “When would I ever do that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. I like arguing with you. I like trying to piss you off because I know you won’t let that hurt you. I like getting that reaction out of you, the anticipation of what you’ll do in return, and the knowledge that you’ll always be there. That no matter how bad my day is going, I’ll always have someone who will laugh it off, and that part will never change.”

“Wow, you sounded messed up right there.” James said, smirking widely. 

“You said the same thing just in a better way,” you countered.

James shrugged. “Yeah I guess I did, but the way you said it made you sound twisted and sadistic.” He grinned, “and I take back what I said earlier, I will definitely make fun of you about this.”

“Merlin I hate you,” you muttered.

“You love me enough to hate me,” James corrected cheekily.

“You little-” you tried to hit him playfully, but he grabbed your arm pulling you into an empty classroom.

“But first, we got some business to take care of,” he said, sitting you on one of the desks. “I only remember leading you out of the Room of Requirement on Friday. How about we continue where my memory left off.”

You smirked. “Sounds good with me. McGonagall can wait.”