#slytherin!reader

James didn’t say anything until he sat down. “All rattle and no venom.”

“And he wishes I’d bite him,” you retorted. 

Dorcas laughed along with a few other students who had heard you. 

Someone behind you explained it to whomever they were sitting with. “Snakes usually have to bite to inject venom, but it’s also a kinky thing. Like a sex thing.”

You raised your hand to your mouth to hide your laughter. Professor Slughorn chose that moment to exit his office and start class. 

The beginning of sixth year had you hoping you’d have minimal classes with James. Less classes with his friends would be cool too, but avoiding James was your top priority. As you went through that first week, your schedules were revealed to be inconveniently similar. Whatever higher power there was hated you. It wanted to see you suffer. 

By the weekend, the whole Slytherin Common Room knew about your predicament; you had whined about it several times. 

“I can make him disappear for you, sweetheart,” Wilkes said, leaning forward slightly as he stood with you and your friends. 

You squished his cheeks with one of your hands. “Thank you, but then you’d get in trouble with old Dumbledore, because he loves the Gryffindors, and we can’t be having that.” 

He chuckled and removed your hand from his face. 

“If you change your mind-”

“I know where you sleep. Don’t worry.” 

“You can always visit me there, even if you don’t change your mind,” Wilkes said with a wink. 

“I’ll… keep that in mind,” you said before turning away from him and looking at Dorcas with wide eyes.

You would laugh about that later in your dorm. He had started slightly flirting with you last year, but it was nothing too direct or even actually asking you out. It was simply an announcement of interest. An invite to his bed was quite a jump. 

“Do you feel woo-ed? Swept off your feet?” Dorcas asked through her giggles. 

“I feel like he’ll ask for my hand by the end of the year, even if I never step foot in his room,” you said heartily. 

“I can see if Evan knows if his parents are trying to set him up with anyone. If not…” Pandora said from where she was laying on her bed, “that could be a real possibility.”

“We’ll see what he’s saying after Christmas,” you laughed. 

If Pandora asked Evan, he could bring it up to Wilkes that your friend was asking about his marital status and that would let him think you were interested when you weren’t, not really. But things could change over the length of a term. Maybe if he asked you out and was a decent date. As things stood at that moment, you were as likely to go on a date with him as you were with James. 

Wilkes’ comments were about as frequent as they were in the spring, although they were more bold – like his invitation to his room. He wasn’t the only one to flirt with you. Avery and Mulciber also said suggestive things to you. A Ravenclaw properly flirted with you in a more polite, let-me-get-to-know-you kind of way. A fifth year Gryffindor dared to ask you out; you declined. 

“I can’t wait for the first party,” Dorcas said one evening in the common room. “You’re going to be snogging some bloke in the corner and it’ll be the gossip of the school.”

“Why would that be exciting for you?” you asked.

“You could use a good snog. You’ve kissed, what, one guy? That Hufflepuff last year who dropped the card during Suck ‘n’ Blow?” 

“I stand by what I said. He did that on purpose,” Pandora chimed in.

You rolled your eyes. “Yes, because that seventh year wanted to kiss a little fifth year.”

“He didn’t pull away! I swear he leaned in!”

“He was drinking firewhiskey.” 

“I think my point still stands.”

“A halfway pretty girl and alcohol can make a bloke do a lot of things,” you said. 

“Halfway pretty?” Dorcas laughed. “One second!” She held up a finger and then turned to where some boys were sitting on the other side of the room. “Oi! Is Y/N halfway pretty?”

“Bloody gorgeous, and she’d be perfect on my dick,” Mulciber said. 

Others nodded in agreement. Wilkes made a similarly vulgar comment. 

“Gross but proved my point,” Dorcas said, turning back to you. 

“I blossomed over the summer,” you said as you crossed your arms and leaned back into the couch. “Of course those horndogs are going to say I’m pretty if it increases the slim chances they’ll ever get laid.” 

“You blossomed in third year,” Pandora said matter-of-factly. 

You and Dorcas both stared at her.

“What? I have a brother. And I may have heard things.”

By the end of the month, five different guys – not including the fifth year Gryffindor – had asked you out. You turned them down with an “I’m not looking for anything serious.” Most of them turned away, disappointed with your answer. All except Barty Crouch Jr. from the year below you.

“Good thing I’m not either,” he said. 

You raised your eyebrows slightly. 

“I’m looking for something fun and…” He gave you an obvious once over. “You look like fun.”

You returned his once over with a smirk. “Better question is are you?”

That’s how you ended up in a broom closet with him. He was also the one you spent most of the first Slytherin party swapping spit with. With how you acted around each other in between and after, it was clear that it was simply fun. There were no strings. No commitments. No feelings. 

In the span of that same month, your foot got stuck in a false step, your bag ripped at the seam and all of your ink pots were suddenly spotless. Not just empty, spotless. It wasn’t like the ink had spilled or dried out, or you forgot to get a refill. Each pot was pristine. It was so clearly done on purpose and you knew there was no one else to blame besides James. You had no proof of it but you knew. You did have proof that he tripped you and stole your Charms notes. 

You were, however, the reason all of his cloaks were six inches too short and all of the covers on his textbooks were swapped. A few doors slammed shut by themselves in his face. You also ensured that he was insulted at least once a day. His looks, personality, family, intelligence, excuse of humor. Anything about him was fair game as far as you were concerned. It was practically a miracle you weren’t at each other’s throats with wands drawn. 

“Y/N, you got a minute?” someone asked as you made your way from the library back to your common room. 

You turned to see a seventh year Hufflepuff walking toward you with an easy smile and confident air about him. You had a good feeling about what he was going to say. At least the general idea of it. He was going to say that you were pretty and smart and he wanted to take you out sometime. You prepared to tell him that you weren’t interested. 

“You’re not seeing that Crouch kid, right?” he asked.

Apparently word about who you were snogging had traveled a little bit. 

“Nope,” you said, popping the ‘p’. “He’s just a good snog, you know?”

“Well, I wouldn’t know. I’ll take your word for it though.” He reached out and brushed his knuckles against the side of your arm. “What about you?”

“What about me?” you repeated with a tilt of your head.

“Are you a good snog?” 

That got a short laugh out of you. “How would I know that? I can’t very well snog myself.”

“Crouch didn’t tell you? That’s not very considerate of him. I think a lady ought to know. How about this – you come down to my dorm and I’ll tell you how you do.” 

You rolled your eyes. Your gut told you this was a joke, just a guy trying his hand at what he knew was a long short. 

“I think I’ll be going back to my own dorm. Alone,” you said. “Thanks for the offer.”

You started walking, but the hand that had been brushing against your arm grabbed it. Your immediate reaction was to pull out of his hand, but he had a tight grip. 

“I could come to your dorm. I don’t mind.” 

His smile shifted from sweet to something that put a stone in your stomach. You tried pulling away to no avail. 

“I don’t care if you mind. I mind.” 

“Come on, don’t play hard to get.” His other hand reached for your other arm’s elbow. “We don’t even have to go back to a dorm if that’s what’s stopping you. Plenty of broom closets between here and there. Empty classrooms. You can have your pick.” 

You kept trying to move away from him. Your wand was at the bottom of your bag and you knew you couldn’t grab it without him stopping you. This Hufflepuff was too strong. 

“My pick is not you,” you hissed. 

“I’m better than Crouch. You’ll see,” he said, forcing your body to turn toward him and then leaning in. 

You didn’t see James appear. Not until the Hufflepuff was pulled off of you and pushed to the side.

“Bugger off, Knighton,” James said firmly.

When the Hufflepuff didn’t leave right away, James gave his shoulder a shove. 

“Go,” James said. 

Knighton looked annoyed but left. Then James turned to you. 

“You alright?” he asked in a hushed voice. 

You hesitated before answering, taking a moment to adjust your bag on your shoulder. You reached into it to grab your wand. If that was how boys were going to be in the corridors, you’d need to be better prepared. 

“I’m fine. Thanks.” 

Of all the people to show up and stop Knighton, why did it have to be James? He probably thought that you owed him now, that you were in his debt. You’d rather be in anyone else’s debt but his. 

You were visibly flustered when you got back to the common room. No one said anything as you went straight to your dorm. Barty saw you go but didn’t even consider asking Pandora if you were alright. There wasn’t anything between you two. The pretty girl he had been kissing was in a huff; that was something to avoid. 

 You expected James to flaunt it in your face that he practically saved you. A few days passed with virtually no changes. He treated you like he always had. There’s no mention of Knighton and his unwanted advances. 

It bugged you. Why did James bother to help you if not to hold it over you? Why would he go back to hating your guts so immediately? Something about it didn’t feel right. 

“Potter. A word,” you said after Potions. 

He stopped just outside of the classroom. And so did Sirius. 

“Just Potter,” you said to him flatly. 

“Yeah, I want my mate to show up to Ancient Runes alive.”

“Pads, go,” James said. “I can handle myself.” 

Sirius looked from you to James, to make sure that he was sure, and then back to you. Then he walked away.

“Need another rescuing?” James asked. 

“I wouldn’t call it a rescue.” A lie. “But it is bothering me.” 

James let out a disbelieving huff before saying, “You don’t owe me or anything, if that’s what’s bothering you.” 

Straight to the point. It was almost funny how well James knew you. You crossed your arms. 

“Why did you help?” you asked, narrowing your eyes. “I thought you loved to see me miserable.”

“Only when you bring it upon yourself. Or when I cause it.” His lips briefly curled into a smirk. “Knighton was being an arse, and no one deserves that kind of torture.” 

He gave you a curt nod and walked in the direction that Sirius had gone. You watched him walk away with a frown on your face. That conversation didn’t soothe your thoughts. It made them worse.

So you didn’t owe James anything and he didn’t seem to want to hold it over you. But he wanted to be the only one to torture you? Really? It didn’t make sense. You wanted to ask why. You tried to think of reasons why for the rest of the day. Nothing made sense. 

“What was that about?” Sirius asked when James joined him and Remus in the Ancient Runes classroom. 

“Incident with Knighton the other day. It’s nothing.”

“Knighton?” Remus asked. 

James nodded, but Remus didn’t seem satisfied with that.

“What were they doing that she needed to talk to you about?” 

James looked away from the boys momentarily, running a hand through his hair.

“He, um, was being a twat. Harassing her,” he said. “I… I stopped him.”

Sirius laughed, “You stopped him? Don’t you harass her every day?”

“No, like he was forcing himself onto her.”

“Huh,” Sirius said.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said with a shrug. “Didn’t think you’d be a knight in shining armor for her, of all people.”

“It didn’t have anything to do with her. Didn’t matter who Knighton was doing that to. It was just that he was doing it.”

Remus hummed and tossed Sirius a look, which James did not miss. His friends didn’t think that you had nothing to do with it.

“I didn’t even know it was her until I pulled him back,” James lied.

He had heard your voice. He heard you say you didn’t want Knighton and the older boy didn’t back off. James knew it was you, but he stood by what he told the boys. It didn’t matter that it was you. It could have been anyone and James would’ve pulled Knighton off of them. He meant it when he said that the seventh year was an arse and no one deserved that kind of torture. 

He just didn’t linger on what he told you – that he was the only one allowed to make you miserable. He also didn’t mention that to the boys. They would’ve taken it to mean something that it didn’t. 

“Would you describe Potter as self-righteous?” you asked the girls in your dorm that night.

Dorcas hummed as she flipped the page of her Transfiguration textbook. “Lots of ways to describe him. That could be one.”

“What’d that piece of shit do now?” Beatrice, another one of your roommates, asked.

“He said he wants to be the only one to torture me.” 

“That’s… something,” Dorcas said, looking up. “What’s the context?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at the memory. 

“Fucking Knighton? I think that’s what Potter called him. Older Hufflepuff. Tried to force his way into my pants and Potter swings in ‘n’ makes him stop.” You shook your head. “I was going to tell him off, because I will not be in debt to Potter. And he says that he’s the only one allowed to torture me.”

“Imagine if he had said he wants to be the only one in your pants,” Pandora laughed. 

You, Dorcas and Beatrice all stared at her for a second before laughing with her. 

“He would never,” Dorcas wheezed.

And nothing changed. You still made it your number one mission to make James miserable, and he you. It was almost like you had an understanding. You hated each other and that’s what it was. You were allowed to make each other wish you were never born. Whether anyone else was allowed to do that was up in the air. Boys still asked you out from time to time and you still snogged Barty periodically, but no one made unwanted advances on you. People, usually Slytherins, expressed their annoyance with James and his friends, but you were the only one who ever seemed to exact any kind of revenge on them. If you were messing with someone, James was the target.

You walked into Potions, going to take your usual spot when you noticed that not only was Dorcas not sitting there, but no one was sitting in their spots. Everyone was standing along the back wall. Someone pointed to the blackboard. 

Assigning new seats

You went to stand next to Dorcas.

“Since when does Professor Slughorn assign seats to sixth years?” you asked quietly.

“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “I thought it was for a different class but Vance said she saw him writing it when she walked in.” 

“But why do we need them? Aren’t we all doing fine?”

“As far as I’m aware… Who knows what’s going on in that old man’s head?”

The last few minutes before class started passed slowly. 

“Good morning everyone!” Professor Slughorn said once he exited his office. He held a small cauldron in his hands. “Good to see everyone saw the board. We’ll be drawing numbers for the new seats.” He shook the cauldron so everyone could hear slips of paper rustling. “One is the front left-most seat, and so on. Then seven in the second row. I don’t care what order you draw in, just no switching!” He set the cauldron on the demonstration desk at the front of the room. “If anyone ends up with who they’ve been sitting with so far, I will move you.” He clasped his hands together and smiled. “Alright, go on. We have an exciting lesson ahead of us.”

“Doubt it,” Dorcas muttered, but she led the class to the front of the room. 

She sighed after drawing and showed you the slip. Three. 

“Front and center,” you said. 

You stuck your hand in the cauldron and swirled the papers around. You selected one and unfolded it. Eighteen. You showed Dorcas.

“Other side of the room. It’s been nice knowing you.”

Dorcas only had to turn around to find her desk. You walked to the back of the classroom and began setting up. Slowly, the rest of the class picked their numbers and found their new seats. There wasn’t much conversation happening. 

“Professor,” James’ voice said. “I can’t sit here.” 

You glanced up from your fingernails. You may have been picking at them while you were waiting. Professor Slughorn took the slip from James’ hand and you were half-surprised to see him look back at you. There were two people James couldn’t work with: Sirius and you. 

“That’s not Mr. Black there,” Professor Slughorn chuckled as he gave James the slip back. “You two are no longer second years, Mr. Potter. I trust you’ll find a way to work together.”

“Professor,” James said, almost begging. “I’ll sit anywhere else.” 

“Mr. Potter.” 

James frowned. The professor’s tone said to drop it and deal with it. James walked back to your table and dropped his things on it with a thud. 

“Wow, don’t act like I killed your owl.” 

He glared at you. “I wouldn’t put it past you to.” 

“I wouldn’t actually kill an owl,” you scoffed. “Even if it had the unfortunate fate of belonging to you.” 

“This better be temporary…” James grumbled as he took his seat. 

Once everyone was situated with Sirius sitting in spot seven, Professor Slughorn explained why they were switching seats. Part of being in N.E.W.T. level courses was being able to succeed no matter who you worked with. Everyone in the room was competent. None of them should have any issues with brewing potions if they could personally do it. Who you sat next to was a preference, but life is not about your preferences. But he claimed he wasn’t cruel. He would be assigning an out-of-class project for everyone to complete with their new partner to help you familiarize yourself with each other. 

James kept his eyes glued to his notes the whole time Professor Slughorn spoke. You watched him in your periphery. You knew you’d be fine. You were good at Potions. And you assumed James had to actually be decent enough to make it into the class, despite what you had said at the start of the semester. You knew that James was a decent student. You just also knew that it drove him crazy when you implied he paid his way through classes. 

By the end of the period, you were ready to tell James that you could meet in the library a few times and crank out the project. It would minimize how much time you spent together. He would just have to do some extra work by himself, as would you. 

Only you didn’t open your mouth fast enough after Slughorn dismissed class. Within seconds, James was gone. You stood up and followed him out, but you and Sirius both stood outside the classroom for a second, looking for him. He really booked it. 

Sirius glanced at you sideways. “Right… Bye.” 

Sirius met up with James in the Great Hall, where he was already shoveling food into his mouth. 

“So, those new Potions seats,” Sirius said as he sat down across from James at the Gryffindor table. “Not ideal, if you ask me.” 

“Nowht idweal?” James repeated through a mouth full of food. He swallowed. “I’m not sure you saw who I was seated next to.”

“You did rip Knighton off of her. So how bad could it be?” 

“You know how bad it is.”

“You’ve never told anyone why you hate her. So, do I know?”

James shook his head. It had been pretty clear at the beginning of first year that you weren’t going to talk about it and James agreed that that was the best course of action. He wasn’t going to change that now. 

“I have my reasons.” 

“Reasons you haven’t told me. Or Remus. Or Peter.” Sirius scooped some food onto his plate. “She’s a Slytherin so I get it, but… I don’t know. She’s not like Snivellus or Mulciber or Avery.” 

“You don’t know her like I do,” James said.

“Clearly. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you that miserable in Potions. History of Magic maybe, but not Potions.” 

You could see Sirius and James’ animated conversation from across the hall. It deepened the frown that had graced your face since you exited the Potions’ classroom. 

“Don’t let that shit get you down, lovely,” Avery said. 

“He’s a proper twat,” you said with an eye roll. “Annoying that he can’t seem to see that I want to be sat next to him as much as he wants to sit next to me.”

“I would’ve thought he was smart enough to understand that you have to work together if you want to pass,” Dorcas said. 

You shrugged. “Maybe he’ll pay Slughorn off later and I’ll get someone decent… Actually, I wouldn’t mind that.” Your face turned hopeful. “What do you think I’d have to do to get him to try that?” 

James’ attitude toward you didn’t change over the rest of the day, nor did it change during the span of time until your next Potions lesson. He looked ready to completely ignore you again.

“Potter,” you said, sitting down next to him.

He didn’t react. 

“You have to acknowledge me if you want to pass this class,” you said flatly. You saw him flex his eyebrows and took it as acknowledgement. “Just let me know which parts of the project you want to do and we’ll just meet in the library once in like four weeks to combine what we got.” 

“I’ll do the whole thing,” James said. 

You gaped at him briefly, waiting for him to say he was kidding. James was theoretically known for making jokes all the time. But he wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t laughing. There were no indications that he wasn’t being completely serious.

“No? I’m not letting you be solely responsible for my grade.”

“Then proof it when I’m done. I don’t care. I’m just not working with you.”

You frowned. “What is this? Some ploy to get me deeper in your debt? First Knighton and now this?” 

That got James to shoot you a sour look.

“I told you you don’t owe me for that.”

“I don’t believe you. You wouldn’t help someone like me without getting something out of it.”

“Because I’m just that selfish, right?” 

“Selfish, righteous, pompous, overblown. I could go on.”

“Of course you think I’m all that.” 

“You are.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” James said, bringing his attention back to his Potions book. “And you don’t owe me.”

You shook your head and said, “If I don’t owe you, meet me in the library after lessons to figure out what parts of the project we’re each doing. Swallow your pride if that inflated thing can fit down your throat.”

Professor Slughorn started the lesson, allowing the silence between you and James to return. Saying that you worked together during the lesson was a gross overstatement. But, Professor Slughorn had seen that you were sort of conversing before class and he thought that was a win in his books. 

When you were dismissed, James didn’t say anything to you. He got up and found Sirius before walking out. You waited for Dorcas.

“Where’re you going?” Sirius asked after the last class of the day when James started to turn down a different corridor. 

“Library,” James answered shortly. 

“Why?”

“To prove a point.” 

“Wha-… actually, never mind. I’ll see you later,” Sirius said with a shake of his head before continuing on his way to Gryffindor Tower. 

You weren’t difficult to find in the library. You had picked a spot near the poisons and antidotes sections. You had the rubric laid out in front of you and a few books already pulled from shelves. Rather than saying “hi” to announce his arrival, he dropped his bag on the table.

“Actually showing up for something academic? Didn’t know you could do that,” you said. 

“I’m here so you know you don’t owe me. I don’t need associations with you to go beyond this stupid project.” 

“Don’t worry, that feeling’s mutual.” You pushed the rubric toward where he stood at the edge of the table. “The sooner we divide the work, the sooner we can leave and not work together for four weeks.”

James quickly read over the portions, which Professor Slughorn had told them to read on their own time. As he went down the page, his expression got progressively annoyed.

“Did you even read this?” he asked, putting it back on the table.

“I skimmed it.”

“We can’t work separately. Everything is… entangled.”

You snatched the paper and thoroughly read it until your expression matched James’. 

“Fuck…” you muttered. You reread it again. “Look into the first half of the ingredients and I’ll do the second half. You book a brewing time and-”

“Why do I have to book it?” 

“Don’t you have quidditch and detention and whatever else you do?”

“Yeah? So?”

“My schedule’s open. Book it when you’re available and I’ll be there.”

James made a noise that was a mix of a groan and sigh. 

“And we’ll go from there, I guess.”

James sat down and pulled one of the books toward him. 

“Why are you staying?” you asked. You had expected him to leave once he knew what part of the project he had to do.

“You got the books. I’m already here.” He paused. “Can you handle me sitting here or will your world implode?”

You waved your hand dismissively. “Go ahead, Potter.” 

You worked silently for two hours. Then it was almost time to head to dinner and James gathered the books to put them away. You waited at the table until he got back.

“So book the brewing and let me know when. Got it?”

“Yeah. I’m not dense.” 

“Could’ve fooled me,” you said and then you left him to finish gathering his things. 

“Where’ve you been?” Pandora asked when you sat down in between her and Dorcas. 

“Library with Potter.”

“With Potter?” Wilkes asked. “What happened to wanting him to fall off the face of the Earth?”

“Oh, trust me, I still want that. Slughorn assigned a partner project and he thinks there’s no reason James can’t be my partner for it.” You looked at Dorcas. “Did you know that the whole thing has to be completed together?”

She nodded. 

“Great. Thanks for telling me that,” you groaned. 

The next time James spoke to you he was telling you he booked a brewing time for 9 a.m. on Saturday. When you stared at him gobsmacked, he shrugged and said there was no quidditch game so he was open.

“And what about Hogsmeade?” you asked bitterly.

“This won’t take all day. You’ll have plenty of time when we’re done.”

“Just don’t be late then.”

“What’s that thing you say? Sooner we start, sooner we can leave? I won’t be late.”

You felt stupid for believing he’d actually be on time when you were waiting for him at 9:10 a.m. He didn’t apologize when he arrived. He just threw his bag on the bag near the station where you were sitting. 

“Let’s get this over with, princess,” he said.

“What happened to not being late?” you asked as you slid a note-taking sheet toward him before lighting a fire under your cauldron. 

“Overslept. Jinx me. I don’t care.”

“Wow, someone’s grumpy this morning. I’d ask who pissed in your pumpkin juice but you’re probably into it.” 

“Is that fresh dittany? Instructions say it needs to be fresh,” James said flatly.

You cocked an eyebrow at his lack of response to your jab.

“Yes, it’s fresh. I can read.”

He hummed and reached for a pestle to ground some moonstone. 

The rest of the brewing session was quiet. The only talking was curt directions or comments. 

“Pass the knife.” “Stir clockwise twice, then counterclockwise three times.” “Drop the shells in one at a time!”

The one time James didn’t ask you to pass something, he reached over for it. He could reach it by leaning forward and over ever so slightly in your direction. The polite thing would’ve been to ask you to hand it to him. As you had been doing for the past hour. But no. Instead, you got a whiff of his cologne, and you instantly knew that it wasn’t something you could tease him about later.

It was good. Not too pungent, not gross or overwhelming. It didn’t make you want to gag. It must’ve cost him a few galleons, but you thought it was worth whatever the cost. While it may not have been drawing in Lily Evans, it certainly wasn’t driving away second choices for him.

The potion turned a milky color. You used a ladle to scoop a sample and let it pour back into the cauldron. 

“That looks right,” you said.

“Great,” James said flatly. “Bottle it and we can leave.”

You nodded and ladled a smaller portion into a vial. You stored it in a case within you bag.

“I’ll hold onto it,” you told him.

You vanished the rest of the potion and walked out of the classroom. James picked the Saturday morning time, when you could’ve been in Hogsmeade. He could be the one to put away all the unused ingredients. 

You found your friends sitting in the area outside of Honeydukes. Pandora caught you up on what you had missed so far: nothing much. James had been right about there being all day for Hogsmeade and brewing in the morning wasn’t that big a deal. However, you weren’t going to be the one to tell him that. 

The boys decided it was time for lunch and led the group toward the Three Broomsticks. They were a decent amount ahead of you so you told the girls about the brewing session, including James’ cologne.

“Who wears cologne to potion brewing? It’s basically a study session. There’s no one to impress,” you complained.

“Maybe there is someone to impress,” Pandora said, winking at you.

“As if!” 

“Probably didn’t want you going around telling everyone he smells bad,” Dorcas said – she had a point. “If what you say is true, then I wish all guys had the same taste. Avery’s is-” She shivered. “-horrendous. I have to brace myself every time he sits next to me in the common room. Which! has increased so much this term. And he doesn’t know what personal space is. Pandora, do you remember when I was sitting on the couch with you and Evan and he decided that there was space for one more? Ugh, I swear he was trying to pull me into his lap once he weaseled his way in.” 

“Oh, yeah. That was uncomfortable. Like, I like my brother. But I was sitting a bit too close for comfort.”

“Avery’s the problem," Dorcas said, shaking her head. “What do I have to do to get him to see I’m not interested in the likes of him?” She sighed exasperatedly. 

“Or any him,” you laughed.

Dorcas hit you with her shoulder. “Shut up.”

“Tell him you prefer blondes with choppy layers. And in Gryffindor red. Oh! Tell him you love a quidditch player and if he asks which team, you can tell him ‘Not yours.’”

“Shut up!” Dorcas whined playfully as she grabbed your arm, blushing furiously. “I hint at who I like once and this is how you treat me!”

“Hint? You practically spelled it out for me. And you ogle her every chance you get.”

“It’s not my fault she’s proper fit. I mean, come ooon, her arms? Fuck…” 

“You need to freshen up before we risk running into her in the Broomsticks?” you teased.

She hit your arm again.

“I’m fine. Thank you.”

The next week passed without noticeable incident. It was the usual treatment from James, except slightly less. James was over his you-limit by the time he got back to his dorm. He didn’t want you to take up any more of his time after seeing you all day, so he didn’t prank you or anything that required planning. Snarky comments and insults were on full blast, though. 

You agreed to meet in the library after classes on Friday. He had no quidditch practice since the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff teams booked the pitch; they had the weekend match. Once again, James had no problem finding in you the library. You had sat in the same spot. And once again, you had already gathered all the books the two of you could possibly need and then some by the time he arrived. As you reminded him, the sooner you started working, the sooner you’d be done. 

You exchanged minimal comments throughout the hour, only notes and pointing out sections within the books that the other might need for their section. You were amazed at his ability to hold his tongue. It was probably the most pleasant interaction the two of you had ever had. 

Saturday brought decent weather. The Slytherin section was distracted for most of the quidditch match, not paying attention nearly as much as they would have if their housemates were in the air. You rarely paid attention to quidditch even then. It was the atmosphere that you came for. You didn’t need to care about what got other people hyped to get high off of their energy. 

Plus, today it didn’t matter who won. You’d end up at a party afterwards either way. Pandora had friends in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuffs let just about anyone in, as long as you weren’t going to tattle on the contraband they managed to get their hands on. 

It wasn’t surprising that Pandora was more excited than any of your friends when Ravenclaw won. She grabbed Dorcas’ and your hands to drag you down to the pitch. She needed to talk to her friends. Once they figured out what time you should head up to the tower, you returned to the castle. 

A few hours later, Pandora and Beatrice were leading the group up what felt like ten thousand and one stairs.

“They gotta stop hosting their parties in their common room,” Dorcas grumbled.

“Almost there!” Pandora called over her shoulder.

She was correct. Another one-fourth turn around the spiral and you were at the top. Pandora reached up for the eagle knocker and it gave you a riddle. Your group stared blankly at each other. Then the door opened by itself. Or so you thought until what looked like a second year peered out. 

“Pandora?” she asked.

“Hi, Bethany!” Pandora said with a bright smile. “Can we come in?”

The younger girl returned her smile with a nod and let your group in. As with every party, you were met with music and the smell of butterbeer and something more alcoholic. And as always, your first stop was the drink table. You decided to play it safe with a plain butterbeer. Maybe you’d have something harder later, but right now you wanted a clear mind. 

As you were taking your first sip and glancing around the room, an arm wrapped itself around your waist. 

“Bit of a boring drink, sweetheart,” Barty said. 

“If I start with troll vodka, I’ll be hurling before the fun really starts.”

“We can’t be having that.”

You looked up to smile at Barty and he was already looking at you, smirking. It was clear that he wasn’t leaving your side tonight. His hand didn’t leave your side as you moved to stand by Dorcas and some of her other friends. The spot also happened to have a clear view of her favorite Gryffindor. Marlene was just a group over. 

When Barty did leave your side, it was when you had finished your drink and you asked him to grab you something. 

“Troll vodka, right?”

“Mhmm.”

Beatrice gave you a sideways glance. “I thought you weren’t looking for anything serious.”

“I’m not?”

She tilted her cup in Barty’s direction. 

“Looking serious to me.”

“It’s not,” you said flatly. “Do you see him talk to me when he’s not latching onto me?”

Beatrice and Dorcas exchanged a look as Barty returned, handing you your drink and wrapping a territorial arm around you. You rolled your eyes before murmuring thanks to Barty. 

You stood by what you said. There were no strings with Barty. You were… party buddies. When you wanted someone to snog or to dance with, you could go to each other, knowing the other would say yes. And you wouldn’t be upset or mad or anything if he decided to go with someone else – the same applied to you for Barty. 

Slowly, Barty moved from standing next to you to standing behind you, holding your hips. You were mid-sip when he dipped his head to ask if you wanted to dance. You lowered your drink to nod and then you slammed the rest. You moved over to where other students were dancing. As usual per these parties, the raunchier you danced, the closer to the middle you were. 

You and Barty ended up dead center. 

During your talking with friends, James and his friends showed up. If there was a party, those boys would be there. Unless it was being hosted by Slytherins in your common room; they weren’t welcome there. The boys mingled and drank, and Sirius got a group of people around him as he retold a story of nearly getting caught by Filch when he was out of bed after curfew – he was embellishing, of course. Peter and Remus disappeared to talk to some Ravenclaws that they were closer to. 

James wasn’t like you. He didn’t start the night with a butterbeer. The boys had taken a shot in their dorm before coming to the party and now James was on his second drink. He didn’t really need the extra courage that the alcohol gave him, but he wasn’t shying away from it. He didn’t need to ask anyone to dance with him. He just moved into the dancing crowd when he didn’t feel like listening to Sirius’ story anymore. 

Some girl started dancing closer to him. James didn’t know her name off the top of his head, but he knew that she was a seventh year Ravenclaw. With her, James got moved from the outskirts of the circle to a layer or two inside. He caught a glimpse of you and Barty in the middle. Every so often there were cheers and wolfwhistles. 

You were enjoying yourself to say the least. 

James couldn’t say the same. He looked away from you, tried to focus on the pretty girl in front of him. But then there’d be cheering again and he’d look at you and let his gaze linger longer than he meant to. 

It didn’t feel right to him. Something was off with your dancing. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. Was it how Barty’s hands were feeling up your body? Was it how you were pressing your body against his? Was it just a bit too much for a school party? 

James stopped trying to figure it out. The more he tried to figure it out, the more he was looking at you. In the end, he decided that it was because you were who you are. That’s why he didn’t like it. He wasn’t too big a fan of Barty’s but he also didn’t know Barty all that well. 

After a while, you tapped out. You got yourself one more drink and sat near an open window that was attempting to cool the room off. You surveyed the party as you sipped. Barty was nowhere to be seen once you stopped dancing and didn’t indicate you wanted to kiss or do anything more. Younger students had started heading to bed. Some Ravenclaws were leading their partners to their dorms. Slowly, the number of people in the room dwindled and you joined those leaving. 

There was one thing caught in your mind as you trekked down to the Slytherin Dungeons. You had seen James look at you while you were dancing several times, and it wasn’t a quick glance. You never made eye contact, but he was watching you. 

Obviously other people watched you and Barty, but it was strange that you caught James doing it so much. 

Sunday had you working on assignments you had put off. You didn’t do anything else after working on Potions with James in the library so you had a fair amount to do. At least you got to sleep in before you claimed a table in the common room. Regulus Black, Barty, Evan and Pandora joined you. You and Pandora laughed behind your hands as Barty grumbled to Regulus that he didn’t need to turn in an essay. He claimed his grade was fine and he was going to get an O on the upcoming exam. 

“Just sit down and pretend to be productive,” Regulus retorted before mumbling, “Fucking degenerate.”

You got more homework done after lunch and you called it quits, heading back to your dorm for a nap. You relaxed in your room for a while and then you went back to the common room. Dorcas had come to find you so they had another player for Exploding Snap. 

Your morning classes on Monday passed in a blur. It was just professors, lectures and turning in assignments. It wasn’t until Potions that anything amusing really happened. 

James was already sitting at the station, leaning his head on his hand and looking like he was struggling to stay awake. It was the perfect opportunity to mess with him. 

“Did you see something you liked Saturday?” you whispered in his left ear, the opposite side of where you sat. 

He jerked wide away. He took a second to gather himself, processing where he was and what you had said to him. 

“Evans was looking ravishing,” he said with a nod in Lily’s direction. 

You hummed. “You weren’t staring at her though.”

“Who was I staring at then?”

“Me.” You grinned at him with a teasing look in your eye. 

“Huh… I think you’re imagining things, L/N. You might have actually lost your mind.”

“I know what I saw.”

Rather than pay attention to what Professor Slughorn was saying during the lesson, you thought about the party. Some part of you didn’t mind that James had been staring. It wasn’t that you wanted him to be staring at you; you wanted him to have some kind of negative emotion. He was just jealous that someone was touching you, dancing with you, being with you in the ways that he wanted with Lily. How could it be that you got it while he didn’t?

You had another library session scheduled with James early in the week. You got some of it in classes, but since your comment, James was uncomfortable. When you were sat across from him in the library, you could feel it radiating off of him. He wouldn’t look at you. You suspected that he was trying to make up for staring at you during the party. 

Every time you spoke, he jumped. He reread sections like three times before anything stuck, and you could tell that he was rereading pages. You didn’t say anything about it though. You still wanted to get a decent grade on this assignment and you wouldn’t get it if James was even less focused than he was now. 

Don’t tick him off… It’s only thirty more minutes… you told yourself. 

So you worked. You passed him notes to add to his section. He took them and added what was needed to the essay. It was a tense thirty minutes. 

Thursday had you holed up in the library again. Sixth year wasn’t taking it easy on you. You had gone straight there after classes, barely left to get dinner, and then you were back at your table. No one bothered you and you liked it that way. You were exhausted from classes and endless assignments. When you nodded off into your book, you took that as a sign that you were done for the night. You packed up your things and left the library.

Despite all your yawning, you decided to take the long way back to the common room. A little bit of walking was good to clear your brain. 

It practically happened in slow motion. James turned the corner. He must’ve come from quidditch practice since his hair was damp and he was wearing a tight athletic shirt. You understood what Dorcas meant by quidditch player’s arms. You raked your eyes over James before you could stop yourself, and judging by the smirk on his face when you reached the top, he saw. 

Great.

“Did you see something you liked last night?” James teased when he sat down for Potions the next day. 

You hummed. “If it was anyone but you… maybe.” 

You weren’t going to deny that James had an attractive body. It didn’t matter though since the personality that came with it was horrendous. You had never really considered James to be attractive, despite seeing other girls drool over him. You didn’t see much of a point to considering if someone was attractive if you despised them. 

You groggily dragged yourself up to the Potions classroom. James claimed it was the best time for the second brewing portion and you could meet up with your friends in Hogsmeade afterwards. Why he moved it up an hour when he was late to the first one was beyond you. 

“Morning,” James said when you walked in at 7:59 a.m.

You blinked slowly with a blank expression. You slowly walked over to the station and put your stuff down.

“You’re early,” you grumbled. 

“Sooner we start, sooner we finish. Right?” 

You hummed and pulled out the instructions for the session’s potion. James had gathered most of the ingredients that you’d need. He reached under the cauldron and lit the fire. For the rest of the brewing, you exchanged minimal words. You brewed. You both took notes. You both marked areas of the essay portion of the project that would need to be reworked. After the plangetines dissolved, James rolled up his sleeves and lowered the flames of the fire so the potion could simmer. You didn’t let yourself look at his arms again. You wouldn’t let him have the satisfaction again. 

James sighed and leaned back in his chair. “You can leave. I’ll sit here until it turns purple, note it and clean up.” 

“And why would I trust you to do that?” 

“Because I need to pass this class just as much as you.”

“You would tell Slughorn that I sabotaged it and left before it exploded or whatever you have planned.”

You stood up to put away the extra ingredients. You weren’t stupid. You needed to be here until the brewing was done to ensure that it was done. You took a deep breath. When you turned back to the station, James was standing. 

“You don’t need to be so cynical. You know that, right?” he asked.

“I’m not cynical. I just know that I have to be cautious when I’m around someone as arrogant and selfish as you.” 

“If you got off your throne, princess, you’d see that people like me have a lot to offer. Everything I’ve done here is based off merit. My father hasn’t paid an extra knut to Hogwarts to further me or get me any special treatment or whatever you think happens.”

“Maybe so, but that doesn’t give you the right to be so boorish.”

“Better boorish than haughty.”

“That implies I think I’m better than everyone,” you said with a shake of your head. “I know I’m not, but I do know that I’m better than you.” 

James took a step toward you and you squared your shoulders and stood tall. You wouldn’t be intimidated by the fact he was taller and more physically fit than you. He stared at you for a moment. Then he grabbed your face and kissed you. 

Of all the things you thought James would’ve done when he stepped toward you, that was not it. The surprise of it had you frozen for a few seconds. Then you shoved him off of you and stumbled backwards a few steps – away from the simmering potion, thankfully. 

“What the fuck, Potter?” you spat. You stared at him, somewhat expecting an excuse or a harsh laugh. He just wiped his mouth. “Yeah, you can clean up,” you said before grabbing your bag and bolting out of the classroom. 

***

You were eight and holding onto your mother’s hand as you walked into a large office building. You weren’t sure where you were or necessarily why. You knew it was something for your father’s work. And that meant you had to be on your best behavior, not that you were an exceptionally unruly child.

Your father shook hands with a man dressed in a suit. Your mother smiled at him and he led you into a large room filled with other people. The thing that caught your eye was a snack table. You tapped your mother’s arm and pointed to it when you got her attention.

“Go ahead,” she said. 

You dropped her hand and went to get yourself something to eat. You figured it was going to be a rather boring afternoon. The least you could do was enjoy one of the pastries and a handful of sweets. When you turned around with your snacks, your parents had moved. You scanned the room looking for them when you saw a small group of kids. Most likely other children dragged along for whatever this was. 

“Can I sit?” you asked. 

“Depends,” a boy with glasses and dark hair said. “What do you know about quidditch?” 

You furrowed your brows and frowned. “Brooms and three kinds of balls? My dad listens to the Kites.” 

“Sit. James doesn’t control the table,” an older girl said, patting the top of the chair next to her. 

You sat down.

“Kites aren’t terrible,” James said. “Not as good as the Broomfleet, but they could be worse. At least they aren’t the Quafflepunchers.”

“What’s wrong with the Quafflepunchers?” you asked. 

“Besides their uniforms? They’re obnoxious. They don’t treat the game like the art that it is. Horrendous plays and style. I could go on.”

“Hm, don’t?” you said. 

A few of the other kids laughed as James frowned, leaning back in his chair. A different girl changed the subject and everything seemed fine. Hogwarts came up at one point, and everyone was saying which house they wanted or thought they’d be in. You didn’t know. Maybe Ravenclaw. 

James laughed. “I’ll be in Gryffindor. No question about it. Best of the houses, if you ask me.”

“I mean, I think we were asking everyone,” you said.

“So?”

“You didn’t need to say ‘if you ask me.’ That’s all.” 

“I was stating my opinion.”

“I got that.” 

There was a tense moment at the table. 

Then the older girl said, “I go next year. Both my parents were in Hufflepuff so I assume I’ll be there too. What I’m excited for is my own wand!” 

A younger boy said he couldn’t wait to go because his parents promised him his own owl and they weren’t budging on letting him get one sooner. Again, conversation continued and everything was fine. 

James got up and went to the snack table. You followed, having finished all of your snacks a while ago. 

“Are you following me?” he asked when he noticed you were standing next to him, looking over what treats were left. 

“You think you’re as important as bonbons? Please, as if.” 

James poured the rest of the plate of bonbons onto his paper plate.

“Hey!” you complained. “You don’t need all of those.”

“Who are you, my mother?” 

“Can you share? I just said I wanted some.”

“No.”

“You’re that selfish? Geez.” 

“I got here before you did. Deal with it.” 

You reached for a pastry, but before you could grab it, James snatched. 

“This is mine too.”

“What’s wrong with you?” 

“Nothing,” he said with a smile. 

“Mum would call you a wild animal. No manners…” 

James took a bite and then said, mouth full, “At leasbt I fen make frens.” 

“I have friends!” 

He swallowed. “Imaginary ones don’t count.”

He walked back to the table where you had been sitting. Your mother saw you and called your name. Apparently it was time to leave. 

“I hope that wasn’t too boring for you,” your father said as you left the building. 

You shrugged. 

“One of the boys wasn’t nice,” you said. 

“I hope you were,” your mother said. 

“I tried to be.” 

You really had tried, but James seemed to think his opinion was fact and that didn’t bode well with you. He took all the bonbons and essentially called you friendless. He was rude. Plain and simple. You hoped you’d never have to see him again. 

When James left with his parents, they asked him if he behaved. Fleamont and Euphemia adored their son, but they were aware that his mouth needed some work. James nodded. He figured he’d never see you again so he didn’t need to talk about you to his parents. He didn’t like how you always had something negative to say after he said something. He may have taken the snacks you wanted, but you were rude. 

As you both stewed on it, you both decided individually that if you did see the other ever again, you’d be sworn enemies. You didn’t need to associate with that kind of person. 

***

You didn’t go to Hogsmeade. You sat in your dorm until dinner, and even then, you ate as quickly as you could. The girls asked what happened to meeting in Hogsmeade and you told them you weren’t feeling well. It wasn’t a lie. James had kissed you. James. You didn’t know what to do with that. You loathed each other; he only proved that he really was as rude, if not worse, as he was at eight. So why was he kissing you? 

Another issue: there was a spark of something there. That brief kiss with James felt nothing like kissing Barty, nor that older Hufflepuff last year. What was that? 

James took his time cleaning up the potions after it turned purple. He made sure to take detailed notes. He slowly walked up to Gryffindor Tower to put away his things before joining his friends in Hogsmeade. He had kissed you. You. He couldn’t explain why he did it, not really. You had just been standing there, insulting him and in a huff. When he took a step toward you, he meant to intimidate you. But then you straightened your back, put your shoulders back and stared up at him. It was… hot. 

You had never been hot before. This was new. He couldn’t explain it. It was an impulse in the moment, and to make it all worse, he liked it. A lot. He couldn’t shake that feeling. 

Throughout classes on Monday, you and James can’t look at each other. To everyone else, this isn’t anything new. To Slughorn, it’s a step backwards from the progress he thought the two of you were making with the project. Sure, you still seemed to hate each other, but there was talking. He’d heard from Madam Pince that when you were in the library together, you weren’t loud or fighting. 

In Potions, you both had scooted your chairs to the edges of the station. You wanted as much space between you as you could. You’re grateful that it was a lecture rather than brewing. There was no way you’d be able to work on a potion with James. Not at that moment. 

“Library after classes, right?” you asked, standing up but not leaving the classroom once you were dismissed. 

James nodded. He didn’t look up to see you nod as well. Then you were gone. 

“Mate, you ready? I’m starving,” Sirius said, standing next to him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m ready.” 

That class had been as close as he’d been to you since the kiss. Every shared class before Potions, and then after Potions, you made sure to be as far away as possible. It probably seemed normal to everyone else, but James knew that there was a new reason for it. At least you were still meeting in the library later. 

You were sitting at your usual table when James got there. You already had everything out. He sat down next to you rather than across from you, as he’d done the previous times. You don’t look at him. You expected him to get to work. Sooner you start, sooner you finish was the motto of this project. 

“About Friday” he started to say, but he stopped when your hand suddenly gripped his wrist. 

“We are not talking about that in the library. Not now.”

“But we’re going to-”

“No.”

“Y/N,” he said, almost pleadingly. 

“You’re a right git.” You stood up and shoved all of your stuff into your bag. “I think we have enough to get a P.”

You didn’t care that you got no work done. You thought you could handle an hour in the library with him. You should’ve been working on the project with a table in between you. You hadn’t been planning on him sitting next to you and wanting to talk about the fact that he kissed you. 

You left the library. James hadn’t taken anything out so he got up and followed you right away. With his longer strides, it didn’t take him too long to find you. 

“Wait!” 

You didn’t slow down. That just meant James had to quicken his pace to catch up. 

“Y/N!”

“What?” you spat as his hand grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to stop walking. 

“I… I just…”

You raised your eyebrows and lowered your chin, silently telling him to get it out. Except he didn’t say anything. He lowered his head and captured your lips in a kiss. It was shorter than the first one. You stepped backwards.

“Fuck,” he breathed. He took a step back and ran a hand through his hair. Then he pointed at you. “We need to talk about that.”

“Your inability to not kiss someone?” you asked, ignoring the way your heart was pounding in your chest and your lips tingling. 

“There’s…” He wagged his pointer finger at you.”There’s something there. And I don’t think we can ignore it.”

“What’s there is you not being able to keep it in your pants,” you said.

“No,” he said, shaking his head and taking a step toward you. “This is new. I haven’t felt this before.”

You scoffed. “What do you mean?”

“Please, don’t be dense. I’ve kissed someone to get my rocks off. Because I thought they’d taste good. You… It’s not that.”

“It’s an established hatred.”

“No. I thought it was, but… no.”

“No? Then pray tell, Potter, what is it?”

James should have given you an answer. That’s not what he did. He kissed you again. He brought his hand up to caress your jaw and he slowly tilted your head back. You couldn’t stop yourself. You kissed him back. There was a thud as his bag fell to the floor, and then you felt him lifting yours from your shoulder and letting it slide down more gently. His hand that wasn’t holding your face found your hip and moved your body closer to him. You didn’t know when you started holding onto the sides of his shirt. Apparently your subconscious knew that you shouldn’t actually touch him. James seemed to have no problem with touching you though. 

When he pulled back, James rested his forehead on yours, breathing heavily and letting his hand fall from your face. You gave him a few seconds to see if he would say anything. He didn’t. He was staring into your eyes like he was searching for something. You turned your body to move out of his hold on your hip and grabbed your bag. Within seconds, you disappeared around a corner and James was left alone. 

He ran a hand through his hair. You kissed him back this time, so why were you running away? You kissed him back so you must feel something too. He wasn’t imagining that there was something there. Well, he knew he wasn’t imagining it for himself, but he felt so sure that you felt something too. There was no way that this was only affecting him. 

He stood in the corridor for a few minutes before deciding to go back to the library. He could get some of the work done without you. He owed you that much, since it was sort of his fault that you left the library.

There was a change in the air between you and James. It was palpable to just about everyone. Things had been bad between you before. Tense. Unfriendly. Frigid. This was different.

Before, you always knew how to act around James. You were always preparing something snarky to send back to him. Not now though. You were terrified that James was going to try to talk to you and end up kissing you again. And it was terrifying because part of you wanted him to. 

James was trying to figure you out in a way he never had before. He wasn’t trying to figure out the best way to push your buttons. He was trying to understand your reactions to him kissing you. You hadn’t hexed him or slapped him. You left. He swore it was different than what went down with Knighton. It had to be. He also was trying to figure out how someone who used to make his blood boil on sight suddenly made him feel the need to hold you close.

“You good, Prongs?” Sirius asked when James walked into their dorm after lessons were over. 

James had been sneaking glances at you all day since you gave him no chance to talk about what happened yesterday. Sirius wasn’t blind; he noticed that James wasn’t not paying in the same way as he usually was. 

“Course. I’m brilliant. Never better,” he said, not fully meaning it, and Sirius could tell.

“You haven’t asked your dearest Evans out lately,” Sirius said as he adjusted how he was sitting on his bed. “I think I saw her eyeing you today. You might have a real shot if you do it right.”

James set his bag on top of his trunk and ran a hand through his messy hair.

“I don’t think I’m going to her out anymore.”

Remus looked up from where he sat at his desk. “You’re not?” 

“No.”

“Why’s that?” Peter asked. 

“She’s… uh, not the one, I guess. I only needed to be shot down a thousand and one times.”

“Uh-huh,” Sirius said. “So who is she?”

James quirked an eyebrow. 

“This new girl you’ve got your eye on. Must be some kind of goddess if she has you dropping Evans.”

James took his glasses off to clean them with his shirt. The boys knew he was stalling; he rarely cleaned his glasses. Then he walked back across the room to the door. 

With his hand on the knob, he said, “It’s Y/N.”

He left the room as quickly as he could. His friends didn’t waste a second jumping up and running out of the dorm. They stopped James before he reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“Y/N? As in Y/N L/N?” Peter asked, slightly out of breath. 

James nodded. 

“Wha-When did this happen?” Remus asked. 

“I’m not sure. It just did.” 

“But you hated her?” Remus said.

“I kissed her. Three times,” James said, starting to push past his friends. “Excuse me.”

Then he fully moved past them and finished going down the stairs. While they followed him into the common room, they didn’t follow him out of it. They watched him go, each dumbstruck. 

“He kissed her?” Peter asked.

“Three times?” Sirius added. “Who is he?”

“No way she kissed him back, right?” Remus finished. 

You weren’t handling it any better. You sat on your bed, picking at your nails as you replayed every interaction you had with James, how horrible he was. And then you compared those memories with how he kissed you. How you liked it. You felt disgusted with yourself. 

“Would you mind sitting in the common room?” Pandora asked.

You stopped picking at your nails. “Why?” 

“You got bad energy. Can’t focus with it in here.”

Dorcas perked up, propping herself up on her elbows rather than trying to nap. Pandora was exceptionally gifted with reading people’s energy. So if she said you had bad energy, you usually had something to get off your chest. 

“So what is it?” Dorcas asked you. “Did you get a detention we don’t know about?”

“No.” You knew that it was pointless to not tell them. They’d get it out of you anyways, or you’d have to sit in the common room, which was a far more public area than you wanted to be in. “It’s James.” 

Pandora set her quill down. You said James, not Potter. She clarified anyways.

“As in James Potter?” 

“Mhmm.”

“What did he do this time?” Dorcas asked with a sigh. 

She and Pandora exchanged a knowing look. They thought he did something perfectly normal but you’d make it sound like he murdered kittens for fun. 

“He kissed me.” 

“He did what?” Pandora gasped as Dorcas sprung up from her bed and launched herself onto yours. 

“And I think I liked it.”

Dorcas grabbed your face and held it close to hers. “James Potter, the boy whose throat you’ve had your wand at since first year, kissed you?”

“When?” Pandora asked. 

You removed Dorcas’ hands from your face and scooted toward your headboard to make more space for her on your bed. 

“Um, Saturday, and twice yesterday.”

“Saturday? That’s why you were in a funk?” Dorcas asked and you nodded. 

“Wait, wait, wait, you said you think you liked it,” Pandora said, getting up and joining you and Dorcas on your bed. “Do you fancy James?”

“I… I don’t know.” 

“How do you not know?”

“Pan, I’ve hated him since we were eight. It was always pure, unadulterated hate. And… I don’t know. Suddenly, he’s not horrible looking and he’s kissing me and it’s a hell of a lot better than Barty.” 

Dorcas pressed her lips together before asking, “Maybe Barty’s a bad kisser?”

You shook your head. “No. He’s good. Trust me. That boy knows what he’s doing. I enjoy kissing him. But James… Potter… It’s better. I don’t know how to describe it.” 

The other girls waited for you to continue, even though they both had endless questions. 

“I… I don’t even know if he hates me anymore. Which I guess raises the question: why did he kiss me in the first place? He called my cynical and haughty literal seconds before he kissed me. Who does that?”

“And what about Lily Evans?” Pandora asked. “Hasn’t he been obsessed with her since forever?” 

“I thought so,” Dorcas said. 

“If he still fancies her, why is he kissing me?” 

“Who’s to say he still does?” Pandora asked. 

A moment of quiet passed. 

“So what am I supposed to do now?” 

Dorcas laughed. “Sweetie, you know we can’t really answer that for you.”

“I’d say you need to decide if you still hate him,” Pandora said. “And that’s not something we can advise on, not really.”

So you stewed on it. You had started hating James when you were eight. You probably hadn’t changed much between eight and eleven, but you had changed a fair amount between then and now. Was there a chance that James had too? Had James changed for everyone but you because of your vowed hatred? Was there a chance that if you stopped lingering on what you said when you were actually children that something else could be there? 

Once again, there was an obvious change in the space between you and James. You were neutral toward each other. No scathing exchanges. No glares. Nothing. You entered classrooms at your usual times, and you didn’t seem to mind when James entered as well. You would go as far to say that you worked well together during your next Potions lesson. Slughorn smiled at that. While things were calm, you didn’t really talk all that much. 

Until the end of Potions on Friday. 

“We still need to finish the essay,” you said as you put your things away. “I know you have quidditch tomorrow, so I was thinking we could meet in the library on Sunday.” 

“If… if we happen to lose, we could do tomorrow.” James looked up as you stood up. “Not that I’m planning or expecting to lose. But you never know… Hufflepuff’s seeker could catch the snitch before I score twenty times.” 

“Yeah… okay.”

You turned to walk away. James’ chair scraped the ground as he pushed back from the station. 

“You’ll be at the match?” 

You turned back. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he said with a nod and small smile. 

It wasn’t a smirk nor cocky grin. It was a genuine smile, like he couldn’t hear better news than the promise of you being at the match and possibly watching him.  

For the first time since your first year, you truly paid attention to the match. You watched James as diligently as Dorcas watched Marlene. In the past, you would’ve never dreamed of telling James that he was actually as good at quidditch as he boasted. Now, you were debating it. His ego didn’t need the boost, but it could be an olive branch. 

You wanted Hufflepuff to win. It wasn’t so that James would lose though. He’d be less surrounded by people if Gryffindor lost and you’d be able to find him easier, with less people watching. That part scared you a little. What were people going to think when they saw you and James being nice to each other? Not that your image mattered that much. It was more the gossip and whispers that Hogwarts was known for that bothered you. 

To your dismay, Gryffindor won. That meant every Gryffindor and then some were going to be surrounding James. You walked with Dorcas down to the pitch. She had started talking with Marlene a little bit after classes and had more courage to talk to her. While she entered the herd of scarlet-clad students, you stayed on the side, a few steps away. You crossed your arms. 

James had been easy enough to spot. He wasn’t the tallest of the team but he had a certain energy that was reflected in those congratulating him. Marlene was nearby. When he saw Dorcas with her, he looked around. You were usually around Dorcas; he had seen you standing with her in the stands. And there you were, just outside of everyone. 

He shot a grin at you. You returned it with a tight-lipped smile and small, quick wave. James was about to start walking toward you, but you looked away before heading to the castle. His smile flickered. Then he turned his attention back to the people in front of him. 

You worked on homework and played Exploding Snap with your friends. Slytherins didn’t go to Gryffindor parties. 

James enjoyed the party. He did. He always did. He loved when the whole house was having a great time. There was butterbeer and snacks for everyone, and alcohol for the older students. People were playing games and dancing. It was loud and wonderful. James was usually in the middle of it all, taking shots with the team and being as loud and rambunctious as he pleased. But not this time. Instead, he was sat on one of the couches, nursing a butterbeer. He was still enjoying everything around him, but his mind was elsewhere. 

It was lingering on your smile, your little wave. The fact that you had come down to the pitch. If you hated him for kissing you, you weren’t showing it. He could talk to you tomorrow. 

James met you in the library after lunch. Same table as always. He walked up to the table, standing at the chair to your left.

“Can I sit here?” he asked. 

You looked up from the essay section you were reading.

“Or I can sit over there, if you’d prefer,” he added. 

“You can sit here,” you said.

He sat down and started taking his things out of his bag. He was prepared to work with you and focus solely on the project for Potions. At least he was sitting next to you and you weren’t grimacing at his presence. 

“So… last week…” you said, not looking up from the essay. 

James froze. 

“You, um, you said there was something here?”

James stumbled over his words, “Oh, um, I-I, well, yes. I did. I did say that.” 

“Do you know how to… describe it, um, without kissing me?” you asked. 

You thumbed the corner of the parchment in front of you. It was better than looking at James at the moment. James’ face tinged red. He ran a hand through hair and chuckled nervously.

“I think there is,” he said. “I, um, I kissed you to be sure. And I’m sorry about that. It’s just, with everything between us… I wasn’t sure what I was feeling.”

“Okay… And you were feeling… what?” 

“Well, it’s certainly not the hatred I was feeling for years,” he said with a soft chuckle. 

“Clearly.” 

“I don’t know when it changed exactly. It’s still a strong feeling, but… the opposite, I guess.”

“The opposite,” you repeated. 

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence between you. 

“So…” James flexed his hands on top of the table. “You did kiss me back…”

“Right. I did.” 

“So…” James repeated, except this time he didn’t say anything more. But he did turn his head slightly to see your face. Another moment of silence. “Do you… feel… something?”

“It’s… not hatred.”

“Okay.” 

You swallowed, still looking at the parchment in front of you. 

“You played well yesterday,” you said, which most certainly didn’t help James understand where you stood. 

“Thank? you?” 

“I was going to tell you yesterday.”

“Why didn’t you?” James asked, thinking back to your little wave.

“You were-“ You gave your hand a small flourish in front of you. “-in the middle of it all.”

“I could’ve come to you.”

“Right, because Gryffindor’s star chaser exchanges pleasantries with his Slytherin nemesis.”

“Nemesis… Are we still that?” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know if-“

You cut him off. It was one fluid motion, you rising slightly from your chair, putting your hand on his cheek to turn his face toward you and then leaning in to kiss him. James was almost immediate to kiss you back. 

After a few seconds, you pulled back and he leaned in further, trying to continue. You sat down with your gaze straight ahead, feeling mortified. Had you really just initiated a kiss with James Potter? 

You cleared your throat. “Sorry. Madam Pince will, um, kick us out if she sees.”

“Right, she would do that,” James said, adjusting how he was sitting. 

Silence. 

“I need to know. If it’s not hatred… what do you think this is?” James asked you. 

“Confusing. It’s confusing.” 

“Um. Okay… One second…” 

James quickly stacked the few things he’d taken out and put them at the corner of the table. Then he leaned over you to do the same thing to your stuff. You watched him. He turned his chair to completely face you and then he turned your chair for you, with you still in it. 

“Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s confusing about it?” 

You let out a short laugh. He had to be joking, right? 

“We’ve hated each other since the moment we met? And now we’re kissing?” You shook your head. “I can’t make it make sense.”

“Well, I feel strong emotions toward you and I think you feel strong emotions toward me. We both think the other is strikingly fit and kissing you isn’t like kissing anyone else. So, in my most humble opinion, I think we should see what happens.” 

“Those strong emotions haven’t been positive, like ever. And so what if we both hit puberty? That happens. It happens to everyone.”

“Sweetheart, not everyone looks like you though.”

“Potter.”

“Sorry.” 

“You say you want to see what happens. I don’t even know if I can like you. We’ve never been friends. If we… dated-” The word came out weird as your brain tried to comprehend the idea of you and James together. “-I’m almost positive it would go up in flames.” 

James hummed. “There’s that pessimism.”

“Only when it comes to you.”

“What do I have to do to get you to take a chance with me?” He grinned at you while taking your hands in his. “To admit that maybe we were wrong about each other all this time?”

You took a minute to think. James kept his eyes on you, patiently waiting and calculating what else he could say to convince you that he really thought the two of you could make it work. He genuinely believed that if you both felt something, it was worth a shot. Plus, he figured, you already knew each other quite well from having to learn what ticked the other off.

“After we finish this project, admit that you’re not as important as bonbons and get me the bowl of them you stole from me.” 

“They weren’t even that good,” James said. 

“Well, I wouldn’t know that, now would I?” 

He chuckled and then brought one of your hands to his lips. 

“I will never measure up to a singular bonbon.” 

“I know that,” Samantha said, taking out an assignment. “But how long is he going to be like that? Shouldn’t he be raving about quidditch or fawning over that mudblood again?” 

“Don’t know, but let’s not talk about him, yeah?” you snapped. 

Samantha held up her Divination homework. “Want to help me do palm reading?” 

A defeated sigh slipped from James’ lips as he watched Samantha take your hand in hers and start tracing your palm. That was a hand that he should be holding. He saw your head jerk ever so slightly, meaning you had just snorted a laugh. It was always a soft sound, a polite noise when something was just barely funny enough to warrant a laugh. He missed that noise from you. 

“You know staring at her isn’t doing anything, right?” Remus asked, glancing up at James from his essay.

James ran a hand through his hair and then pushed his glasses up his nose. “It worked the first time.” 

“She wasn’t pissed at you then.”

James knew Remus was right. When he had started staring at you for the bet, your opinion of him was neutral, maybe slightly skewed to the negative but nothing too drastic. Now he was certain that it was as low as it got. He wanted to fix that, but that was looking near impossible. Since you snapped at him last week, Evan Rosier, Stefan Wilkes, John Mulciber and Anthony started keeping a closer watch on you. And if they weren’t there, one of the girls was at your side, glaring daggers at James if he even looked like he was thinking about approaching you. Everything around you had a very anti-James feel to it.

At dinner, Sirius, Remus and Peter started discussing plans for their next big prank. Something about making quills burst out into song and dance during Charms. Several times the boys stopped talking and looked at James for his opinion. He was usually very vocal during these discussions. He always had a preference on how something was done, an idea to make it better, something to get more laughs. Rather than adding to the impending chaos, he leaned heavily on his hand as he gazed at you across the hall. You were laughing at something Barty was saying, along with everyone else around you, but you were leaning on John for support. All James could think was that should be him. 

While their planning continued all the way up to their dorm, so did James’ miserable attitude. He collapsed onto his bed as soon as the boys entered the room. 

“Alright, I’m tired of you being a wet blanket, Prongs,” Peter said. “So what Y/N doesn’t want to talk to you? Things ended with the bet. You should be back on your bullshit.” 

James leaned up on his elbows. “I didn’t break up with her though. I know I said I was going to before break, but I didn’t,” he said bitterly, and then more melancholily, “We’d been writing to each other daily before Christmas and then her letters just stopped. And I come back to school and she suddenly knows that I was using her to get over Lily.”

Sirius thought James would stop talking at that, but he didn’t. James went on.

“I mean, yeah, I was, but that’s the thing. The stupid bet worked. I’m over Lily. I see now that it was never going to work between me ‘n’ her. But it worked. I’m over Lily and I think I’m in love with Y/N.”

Sirius straightened his back. Remus’ and Peter’s eyes went wide.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her. I wanted to see where things would go with her. I-I love her and I don’t think she’ll ever talk to me again.” James laid back down and stared at the canopy above him. “And this isn’t me saying I want you to pick another girl for me to date. Because I don’t.” He groaned. Then he removed his glasses and covered his face with his hands. “Merlin, Y/N liked me. She really liked me.”

Remus sat down on his own bed, facing James. 

“How did she find out about the bet?” he asked.

“Dunno. I didn’t tell her. She said it was in a letter? I don’t know, mate.”

“And you didn't write this letter?” Remus asked. 

“Obviously not!” 

Remus hummed and sent a look towards Sirius, who was looking painfully guilty and had turned away from James. It was obvious to Remus who had written the letter. Only one other person knew about you, the bet, the fact that you and James were writing to each other and that James hadn’t broken up with you. Sirius had thought Jamrse was being overly polite or cowardly in his not breaking up with you. He hadn’t considered that James might have actually gotten feelings for you, and now that he knew that James did, Sirius knew he messed up by writing the letter. 

The room was painfully awkward for a while. The silence became filled with scratching on parchment as Remus worked on his Arithmancy essay. But that was only temporary. He had prefect duties. He motioned for Sirius to follow him when he left the room. And Sirius listened. 

“You need to fix this.” 

“How the bloody hell am I supposed to do that?” Sirius hissed. He didn’t question why it was him who needed to fix it. He knew. 

“Not my problem. You’re the one who pretended to be Prongs and ended a relationship.”

“I thought it was supposed to end! I thought I was doing him a favor since he didn’t have the balls to do it.”

Remus sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “We’re a bunch of gits for not seeing that it wasn’t a bet to him anymore.”

“We?” 

“Me and Wormtail kind of gave him shit for not ending it right when he got her to kiss him. I mean, he said it would’ve been rude, which he’s right, but still, we just assumed he’d do it before we left for break.”

“Yeah, but he didn’t talk about her the entire train to London?”

“He played with that little broom she got him though.” Remus shrugged. “Was probably thinking about her rather than listening to us.”

“What a sap,” Sirius grumbled, earning a shoulder smack from Remus.

“A sap who needs you to get his girlfriend back. And soon. Wormtail’s right. He’s a damn wet blanket and I’m tired of it too.” 

---

The next few days had Sirius wracking his brain. Somehow he needed to get you to listen to him, preferably without all your friends around. And he’d have to do it when James wasn’t around. He didn’t have it in him to tell him the truth; part of him hoped that fixing it would make it like he never wrote the letter in the first place. 

The dark cloud that was James made Sirius feel worse with every overly dramatic sigh. It also didn’t help that Remus glared at Sirius every time it happened. At least Peter wasn’t actively upset with Sirius. He made the dorm slightly less tense in the evenings, but it really wasn’t enough. 

Classes were just as bad. James, rather than pay attention and focus on something other than you, watched as Pandora and Dorcas passed you notes and as you fell asleep on Evan’s shoulder. 

Evan. James could see him slowly moving in. You had just finished packing up your things at the end of Potions, and he strolled over to you and picked up your bag. 

Before you could say anything, he said, “It’s National Carry-A-Bag-For-A-Pretty-Girl day,” with an easy smile. 

“Then why haven’t you been carrying it all day?” you asked with your own smile and a slight tilt of your head. 

“Barty only told me before class.”

“Ah, that bastard,” you laughed. 

Then the two of you walked out of the classroom. James witnessed it all. He hated it. He hated that it wasn’t him carrying your bag and saying stupid lines like that. But if you were working towards something with Evan, how did he even stand a chance anymore? How could he get you to listen to him so he can apologize and somehow un-break up with you?

Sirius couldn’t find a way to talk to you when you were with your friends so he did what he thought he had to: ambush you after you used the loo. He had seen you turn down a different corridor than your friends, so he waited. He peopled-watched until you came back, wiping your hands on your skirt. 

“Flint,” he said firmly. 

You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms before turning to him with raised eyebrows. You were the picture of irritation. 

“Black.” 

“I need to tell you something.”

“If it’s a message from Potter, I don’t want to hear it.”

“It’s not from him. It’s from me.”

“Go on then,” you said flatly, casting a quick glance down the corridor. 

“That letter. It was from me. Not James.” 

“Which let-”

“Don’t be daft. You know which letter. I wrote it. I signed it. I sent it. James never saw your last letter to him.” 

You pressed your lips together as a wave of emotion crashed over you. You were suddenly hot with anger, but your heart felt heavy with hurt as you remembered every word Sirius had written. Part of you knew that James wouldn’t have broken up with you through a letter. James had the decency to do that in person. This also explained why James was trying to be so chummy when you got back from the holidays; he thought you were still together. 

“So, um, you should talk to him. Please. I promise you that he didn’t know about it. He, ah, heh, still doesn’t know it was me.”

You clenched your jaw. You didn’t know what to say to Sirius. Your gut was telling you to hex him and leave him for someone else to find, but you were too close to classrooms. A professor could walk out at any second.

Sirius walked away, saving you from making a decision you would regret. He hoped you would talk to James. He hoped he had done enough to fix what he messed up. He’d give it a few days before seeing if he had to do more, which he sincerely hoped he didn’t have to. 

You mulled it over for the rest of classes that day. It had been Sirius all along. James hadn’t broken up with you. He hadn’t written all those hurtful things. But, something told you that everything Sirius wrote wasn’t untrue. James had been obsessed with Lily before he suddenly moved onto you. 

It ate at you, because now you had to know. You needed to know how much truth there was in Sirius’ letter. Even if James hadn’t written it, you needed to know if you had been a glorified bet.

“Potter,” you said after your last lesson of the day. 

You had left the classroom before him with your friends and then waited by the door for him. He looked at you with sad-turning-hopeful eyes. You jerked your head to tell him to follow you before walking off a little bit and leaning against the wall. He followed and stood in front of you, running a hand through his hair. 

“So Black talked to me.”

“Regulus is in your house,” James said quietly. He sounded nervous. 

You rolled your eyes. “Not that one. Sirius.”

“Oh?”

“Told me he wrote me a letter over break.”

“He did what?” he all but gasped. His heart was pounding in his chest as his mind raced. What had Sirius written?

“And he signed it James. He, uh, he wrote some… harsh things in it.”

“Oh,” he breathed. Sirius had told you about the bet. That’s how you knew. “A-about that…” James looked away from you. 

“They… they were true, weren’t they?”

“Um, what did he all write?” James thought maybe he could play dumb. Maybe you’d buy that. 

“James.” 

He forced himself to look at you. He wished he hadn’t the moment his eyes met yours. There was so much hurt etched onto your face and he knew he was the case. 

“Did you use me to get over Lily?”

“Well,” he started, running his hand through his hair again. “Yes, but-”

“There’s no but. Nothing you say can make that okay.” 

“Y/N, I love you.” 

You stopped for a second. Your heart stopped. Then you laughed harshly, shaking your head. “You think I’m stupid? No self-respect? I may not know what your angle is this time, but I’m not falling for your stupid James Potter charm again. So, politely, go fuck yourself.”

You pushed off the wall and walked away. All James could do was watch you go and pull at his own hair. Then it hit him. 

Again. You said “again.” You couldn’t fall for him again. That meant you had fallen for him once. Once he fell for you, it had been real. You had actually grown on each other. There had been something there and James could convince himself that he could recover that. Somehow. He could. 

James was so engulfed by the miniscule possibility he could get you to take him back that he almost dismissed what Sirius did. Almost. 

“What did Y/N want?” Sirius asked when James entered their dorm. 

“Don’t,” James growled, holding up his hand. “I’m going to deal with you later.” 

Peter, still unaware of Sirius’ letter, raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Lovers’ tiff?” 

“Jackass over there caused it,” James said as he started to dig through his trunk. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was looking for but he knew that he’d know it when he saw it. 

“Technically, I think Peter caused it,” Remus said. “Wasn’t he the one who suggested the bet?” 

Peter’s gaze snapped to Remus. “Oi?”

“I don’t care about that right now. Black was the one who told her.”

Hearing Black stung Sirius. It told him just how much James was pissed. Remus and Peter also caught that and gave Sirius almost-pitiful looks. They didn’t envy him for being on the receiving end of James’ ire. 

“So… what’re you doing?” Remus asked cautiously. 

“Fixing it.”

“How?” 

James slammed his trunk closed and glared at the werewolf across the room. “I don’t bloody know. But I have to.”

He stormed out of the room. The three boys remaining exchanged silent looks. 

“Is when we start making bets on how much he’s going to embarrass himself?” Peter asked.

Sirius threw a pillow at him. 

James went to where he thought you’d be: the library. Yes, you had told him that you usually did your homework in the Slytherin Common Room, but if you weren’t there, you’d be in the library. He’d have witnesses if you were there and decided to murder him. You’d also have your posse with him, but that was something he had learned to put up with. 

He considered himself lucky when he spotted you in the library, but it wasn’t just that that made him lucky. You were sitting at the table you sat at with James and you were alone. So James sat down across from you. 

You didn’t want to look up. You’d seen in your periphery that it was James. Apparently he hadn’t done you enough damage today. 

He sat there for a few seconds with the hope that you’d acknowledge him, but you don’t. You stayed focused on your essay. It took more effort than you would’ve liked, but you did it. 

James cleared his throat. 

“I thought I told you to go fuck yourself,” you said, keeping your eyes glued to your parchment. 

“You did. I just… I can’t let that be how it ends, how we end.” 

You put your quill down slowly and folded your hands over your parchment. It was done with enough precision to put James more on edge than he already was. 

“As far as I’m aware, we ended when your cretin of a friend wrote to me and told me the truth,” you said coldly.

“I-I-I was going to tell you. Eventually. Because you’d have to find out eventually.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew that this was going to turn into a loud conversation and Madam Pince was going to throw the two of you out. 

“So I found out sooner than later. Saved the both of us from wasting any more time.” 

“I wasn’t wasting time!” he said, leaning across the table. He sat up straight and ran a hand through his hair before adjusting his glasses. “So what if I only went after you for a bet at first? I wouldn’t have fallen in love with you without it. I probably would’ve never even looked your way without it. And be honest, if I hadn’t gone after you, would you have spared me a second glance?” 

“No.” Your tone was hard, not soft like James had hoped. 

“All it was was a nudge in the right direction. It was a first step I wouldn’t’ve known to take.” He abruptly stood up and moved to crouch next to you. “All because you seemed out of reach. Your friends-”

“Unnerving,” you recalled, still not softening.

He chuckled. “Yeah. Still are, if you ask me. But yes. They’re always around you. And you have status. Your family had dinner parties, plural, over the holidays. I went to one and it was a family gathering.”

“You told me.” 

“Do we need to talk about how gorgeous you are? Honestly, the fact that you were single was a miracle all on its own. You’re funny, even if it’s a different brand than me. Merlin, Y/N, you’re everything. So, so what if it took a bet to get me out of my comfort zone, to take a chance on someone so far out of my league?” 

You could feel the wall around your heart cracking. James really knew what to say, even if you still wanted him to disappear off the face of the Earth. 

“Evans,” you said. You were proud of yourself for keeping your demeanor icy. 

“What about her?” 

“All of that doesn’t change the fact that you were using me to get over her. You played with my feelings and I’m just supposed to be okay with that? It’s cruel.” 

“If she didn’t break my heart, we would’ve never happened!”

“If she never broke your heart, you never would’ve broken mine,” you said, voice cracking at the end. You mentally swore at yourself. You turned your face away from James as you felt your eyes start to burn. You did not want to cry. You certainly did not want to cry in front of James. 

“I never meant to.” 

You swallowed stiffly. You couldn’t trust yourself to say anything. 

“Y/N, please. If you forgive me for that, I promise to never, never break your heart again.”

There was a moment of silence where James hoped you’d say something. You didn’t.

“Please,” he breathed. 

He reached out for your hands but you immediately pulled them into your lap.

“If you didn’t fall for me,” you whispered, “you would’ve still broken my heart.”

“But I did fall for you. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.” 

Once again, you said nothing. 

“If you take me back, I’ll spend the rest of my life groveling.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. The cracks started crumbling. 

“When… when was it not a bet anymore?” 

“Um, do you remember when you shoved me on the walk back from Hogsmeade? Late November, I think?” 

You nodded. 

“Sometime between then and when I hit the ground.”

You let out a short laugh, and it was a beam of hope for James. 

“Are you some kind of mascochist?” you asked. 

“Only if it’s you delivering.”

You allowed yourself to look at him. At some point he had fallen to his knees. This boy was kneeling next to you and begging for your forgiveness, for you to give him another chance. Something in the way he was looking at you told you that he’d rather die than hurt you again. 

You sighed. “Then I must be one too.”

“Oh thank Godric,” James said before attempting to kiss you. 

You grabbed his face before his lips could touch yours. 

“If you, or anyone associated with you, fucks this up, there will be no third chance. Understand?”

“Understood. Can I kiss you now?” 

You pulled his face to yours and you felt him smile. He looked positively ecstatic when he pulled back. 

“You will be groveling for the rest of your life.”

“Anything for you.”

Standing at the bottom of the stairs, he said your name. 

“Yes?” You stopped and looked back at him. 

“It’s late. Where are you going?”

He might’ve looked the other way if you were headed to the kitchens or trying to sneak into the library. But you had your cloak on. As fond of you as he was, he couldn’t ignore that. 

“The forest.” 

“The forbidden one?” 

“Mhmm.”

“And why are you going now?” 

“I need spiny fairy mushroom spores. They are only released under a new moon.”

“Right,” Regulus said. He ran his hand over the back of his neck. “Wait there.”

He turned back to his table and grabbed his own cloak from the back of the chair he had been sitting in. If you were leaving the castle, he was going with you. You didn’t say anything when he came back and nodded, a gesture that said he was ready to go, nor did you question why he needed to come with you. You weren’t going to say no to your friend.

He followed you silently through the castle. He didn’t understand the route you were taking. It wasn’t to any of the main doors that Regulus knew about. And then you walked into one of the unused classrooms; well, it was used for interhouse chess club but that was about it. He closed the door behind him, keeping the knob turned until the door was nestled in its frame so the click was as quiet as possible. You had already crossed the room to the windows. You unlatched on and pushed it open. Then you climbed out. 

Right. Because why would you take a normal way out of the castle? At least it was in an area where the castle was built into the hill so the ground wasn’t a far drop from the window – it would make getting back into the castle easier. Once he was outside with you, you closed the window until it was only a finger’s width open. It would appear closed to anyone peering into the room from the door. You started towards the forest with Regulus in stride. He waited until you got closer to the forest before saying anything. 

“You are aware of what forbidden means, right?” he asked. 

“I think Dumbledore just wants to keep us out of his secret garden,” you said. 

“He has a secret garden?”

You nodded. “And it’d be picked over if Junior and Evan found it.”

Regulus clicked his tongue, understanding what kind of things you assumed Dumbledore was growing. 

“There’re no growths near the castle?” 

You sighed as you reached the edge of the forest. Regulus expected you to light your wand. Your wand remained pocketed and you headed into the darkness. He still followed you, his eyes straining to keep you in sight while making sure he didn’t trip over anything. 

“Tell me more about these spores,” Regulus said since you didn’t answer whether there were some closer to the castle, like in one of the greenhouses or something. 

“Well, I already told you the mushrooms only release them under a new moon. The mushrooms themselves glow. And the spores are good to have on hand for exams, for focusing ‘n’ stuff. If I can get enough, I can pawn ‘em off. Ravenclaws are a prime market for them.”

“What?”

“Have you never read about them?” 

“No?”

“Huh, you should. They’re fascinating and there are tons of other plants in here that can be really helpful. I’m surprised Junior has said anything to you.”

“I don’t… consume… everything he does.”

You laughed. “Wise choice.”

As you walked, Regulus had an iron grip on his wand. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness and he could sort of see, so he was scanning the surrounding areas for anything that could be dangerous. He could cast Depulso or Protego in an instant. 

He didn’t cast the first spell of the night. You did. 

“Defindo.”

Some branches that had been blocking your way fell to the ground. You took two steps forward. 

You froze. 

It was so sudden that Regulus bumped into you. You grabbed his wrist before he could even back away, and then he saw what made you freeze. You had come face-to-face with a rather large spider. 

“Confringo.” 

The spider screeched as it was sent backwards with a blast of flame. With you still holding his wrist, he pushed you forward a few steps so he could get in front of you and then shifted so he could hold your hand to pull you out of the spider’s nest. 

“Where are these mushrooms?” he asked after putting a bit of distance between you and the spider. “How deep are we going?”

You took a shaky breath. It was good Regulus came with. 

“They, they shouldn’t be much further. Pandora’s directions-“

“Rosier is why we’re in here?”

“Of course. She found the patch.”

Regulus nodded. He was debating having words with Pandora. It wasn’t that you were incapable of handling yourself, but Pandora was more actively reckless than you. Pandora would act before thinking, which allowed her to venture deep into the forest alone. You did think, but sometimes you didn’t think things all the way through. You were more than willing to find these spores with no problems with breaking the rules; you didn’t consider the beasts that lie within the forest that might frighten you.

“Should be this way,” you said once you oriented yourself with where Regulus had brought you. 

As you started to walk, Regulus asked, “Do you mind if I light my wand?” He was getting tired of not being able to see where he was going.

“Go ahead.” 

Regulus lit his wand, and although you didn’t say anything, you appreciated the light. You walked for a little while without talking. Regulus was still watching your surroundings, just in case another spider jumped out of the trees. That was probably the one downside of lighting his wand, now everything in the forest knew exactly where you were. 

“Ooh! Horklumps!” you exclaimed.

A small cluster of pink mushroom-looking creatures bristled under the light from Regulus’ wand. 

“Professor Slughorn might give me a shiny knut for fresh juice!” 

You paused as you reached into your bag. It seemed to swallow your entire arm. You pulled out some tools and jars and knelt to the ground next to the horklumps to juice them. Regulus watched you work diligently, careful not to harm the plant-esque animals. He was mildly amused that you hummed while you worked; part of him thought it might calm the horklumps. 

You dusted your knees off after you were done and then you were moving into the darkness again. Regulus tried to help look for the spiny fairy mushrooms, but he didn’t know exactly what they looked like. He was going strictly off your description, which wasn’t much. Plenty of plants glowed, or emitted some kind of light or spore. After a few minutes of silent walking, Regulus accepted that his energy was better spent ensuring that the path you walked was safe. 

“Brilliant,” you muttered, more to yourself than Regulus, when you came across a small clearing with a patch of glowing mushrooms in the middle.

Standing at the edge of the clearing, Regulus thought that he could’ve realized that this was what you were looking for. Still, he didn’t say anything. He kept watch, eyeing the treeline for movement and keeping his wand raised just enough so that its light allowed you to see what you were doing. From what he could tell, you were using tweezers to pluck small orbs from the grass. 

Large spores, Regulus thought. 

“Alrighty, I think I’ve got enough. Definitely a few galleons worth if I talk to the right kids,” you said, standing up and once again dusting your knees. 

Regulus nodded. “Let’s take a different way back. I fear we might’ve angered that spider’s family.” 

“Avoiding spiders? Don’t have to tell me twice.” 

You started in the direction you thought was toward the castle. You weren't actually sure if it was the way, but you figured all roads led to Hogwarts if you walked far enough. If you did start in the direction of Hogwarts, you’d probably end up turned around somewhere, so if you started in the wrong direction, you’d end up where you needed to go. 

Well, that or Regulus would help you at some point. He was more skilled in navigation than you were, and you knew he’d be polite in redirecting you. He was always polite with you. 

The thought that you angered a nest of spiders stayed with you as you walked. You didn’t know that Regulus was watching the trees and would protect you at any cost, so you got more nervous with every step. Despite his wand, you swore it was getting darker. Every rustle of leaves made the hair on your arms stand up. 

The path was widening slightly up ahead. 

There was a rumbling noise and something appeared right in front of you.

You jumped backwards. Right into Regulus.

His hands immediately grabbed your arms and steadied you. And in front of you is a toad. A giant purple, that hopped into the path from the small pond to your right. You felt your face burn with embarrassment at being frightened by it, and that you jumped back into Regulus. You didn’t even think about how he was still holding you despite your being okay.

“Thanks,” you breathed after a few seconds. 

He hummed, as if to say not to worry about it. Neither of you moved. The toad was still in front of you. Regulus’ hands still holding onto your arms. The branches shaking slightly in the wind, just enough to fill the silence.

With a croak, the toad hopped into the brush on the other side of your path. You waited another few seconds before starting to walk again, and it wasn’t until then that Regulus let his hands fall back to his sides. You were silent until you exited the forest. You hesitated at the edge as Regulus tucked his wand into his pocket. You’d be safe out in the open, and he didn’t want to bring any attention to you if a professor just happened to look out their window. 

“Thank you for coming with me,” you said quietly as you crossed the grounds. 

“I couldn’t risk finding out you got hurt or something because you went out alone,” he said nonchalantly. “I’d rather get a month of detention.”

You were quiet, and then, “That’s really sweet, Reg.”

And it was. Perfect prefect Regulus, quidditch caption and academic genius, would rather get detention than find out you were hurt. It warmed your chest. It was almost an adrenaline shot. One that disappeared when you reached the window you needed to slide through.

“You probably want some of what I get from the Ravenclaws?” you asked with your hand on the window’s frame but not opening it yet. 

Regulus tilted his head. “What do you mean?” 

“For coming with? You’ll want a portion of what I get for selling the spores.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t want any money.”

“But you came out with me and-”

“To make sure you were safe. Figured it’s easier to come with and see for myself that you’re safe than to wait up in the common room.” He huffed a soft laugh. “What good would pacing have done me?” 

“You could’ve gone to bed. Or… finished whatever you were working on. Was it an essay I’ve forgotten about?” 

“I wouldn’t have been able to sleep. And it’s just quidditch. Your safety is far more important to me than quidditch.” 

Your grip on the window frame loosened. “I’m more important than quidditch?” 

He flexed his hand quickly before placing it on top of yours. He stared at your hands for a second, relishing in the fact that you didn’t pull your hand away. 

“You’re more important than a lot of things.” 

You looked at Regulus. Even in the darkness, albeit brighter than the forest, you could see the lightest blush across his cheeks. Then you looked down at your hands. You let go of the window frame so you could flip your hand to hold his. 

“Maybe… you could come with… more often?” you asked slowly. “If you aren’t busy. Like when I go to the greenhouses on Sundays?” 

Regulus nodded. “And whenever you go into the forest. Too many spiders in there.”

“I agree.” With your other hand, you grabbed the window and pulled it open. “And maybe to the Three Broomsticks sometime?” 

“I think that would be agreeable.” 

People often joked that the two of you should date if you were going to act like an old married couple. For a while, you both balked at the idea. Date each other? Ridiculous. You were like siblings. You were best friends. You couldn’t kiss each other. 

Then you got older and the jokes started hitting closer to home. Upright displays of disgust at the idea turned into flustered brushing it off. You stopped hugging him. He stopped slinging his arm around your shoulder. You still spent almost all of your time together, but you made sure there was some kind of space between you. 

At first, you thought that you wouldn’t mind if Barty kissed you. Then, it hit you that you wanted him to. You wanted him to put his arm around you again and you wanted to be able to hug him again. You wanted him to be close and you wanted him to be yours. But you couldn’t bring that up to Barty. As deep as your friendship went, you didn’t really talk about romance or anything close to it. 

“What’re you doing that for?” Barty asked while you were walking to your next class in the middle of the week. 

“Doing what?” you asked. 

“That, with your hands.” 

Your right index and middle fingers and thumb were holding the bottom of your left middle finger’s proximal phalanx, where your finger connected with your palm. If you held it just right, you could feel your pulse. You could also feel it when you squeezed your thumb between your middle and ring fingers. 

“Oh, um,” you said, now looking down at your hands. “Just checking my pulse.” 

“It’s still going, ain’t it?” 

“Yes.” 

“But why’re you doing it?” 

You shrugged and let your hand go. You flexed both hands in a way that caused your knuckles to click. 

“Habit. Calms me a bit.”

“Why not check on your wrist? That’s where most people check their pulse.”

“People aren’t usually looking at my hands, Barty. It’s discreet. Much less noticeable than holding my wrist or my neck.” 

“Huh.” He glanced at you out of the side of his eye. “Said it calms you. You nervous for Charms?” 

“We’re walking into an exam. Of course I’m nervous. We can’t all be geniuses.” 

Barty laughed and bumped your shoulder gently. “You’ll be fine. We studied together. You know as much as I do.”

“Sure I do…”

Later after dinner, you were sitting in Barty’s dorm. His roommates were elsewhere so it was just you and him. Slughorn had informed you of a mid-unit test at the end of the week, causing you to insist on an emergency study session. 

Barty was laying on his bed, his head and shoulders hanging over the edge a bit. He tossed a rubber ball up into the air before catching it again. You were sitting at his desk with your notes. You were having him recite potion ingredients and their amounts to you. This was a common arrangement for your studying; you’d switch once you’d exhausted the list. 

Barty missed the ball and it bounced under your chair. Rather than get up, Barty slid his upper body off the bed and reached for the ball. This, however, put his head near your legs and if he turned ever so slightly, he’d have a perfect view up your skirt. 

You seemed to realize this at the same moment. His face turned red as you adjusted how you were sitting, moving your legs away from him and scooting the chair away from him.

“Grab the ball,” you said, voice tight. 

“Right.” He cleared his throat. 

You got back to listing off potions for him to describe how to brew and their effects. Barty tossed the ball twice before he noticed your hands. You were doing the same finger-holding-pulse-checking thing from earlier. 

It wasn’t unusual for Barty to notice your hands. It was how he knew that this pulse thing was new. You fidgeted with your hands a lot. You were a Class A knuckle cracker. If there was a joint in your hand that could pop, you knew how to pop it. He’s pretty sure that’s why your knuckles clicked as well. Both all of that made noise; this was silent. 

“Why’re you nervous?” he asked. “The test getting to you?” 

You swallowed and clicked your knuckles. “I guess.”

“You’re checking your pulse again. You weren’t like five minutes ago.” Then, Barty had a revelation. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed on your side in once fluid motion. “Wait, did I make you nervous?” 

“What? Barty, that’s ridic-” You stopped speaking when he reached over and grabbed your hand. 

“You were fine until I dropped the ball.” His eyes flicked from your hand in his to your face. He put two fingers on the side of your middle finger and frowned. “I don’t feel anything…” He moved his fingers to the side of your wrist. 

You could feel your heart starting to race, and that meant that Barty must also be able to feel it. 

“Hmm, still nothing,” he lied. He scooted to the edge of his bed and leaned forward to put the two fingers on your neck. 

Now your heart was pounding and there was no way that Barty couldn’t feel it. 

“Why do I make you nervous?” he asked softly in a gentle tone you had rarely heard him use. “Are you scared of…” his voice trailed off.

“No! No, I’m not scared,” you said quickly, reaching up to take his hand away from your throat. “Of you. It’s just… you…” 

This time it was your voice trailing off as his hand shifted to hold yours. You stared at your intertwined hands for a moment. Then you looked at Barty’s face, his eyes, down to his lips and then back up. He noticed. His eyes flicked to your lips. 

“Just push me if I’ve read this wrong,” he said before jolting off the bed and colliding his lips with yours. 

Your breath hitched and your eyes went wide at the sudden-ness of it, but after a moment, Barty felt you relax. He sensed you moving your free hand and braced himself for any amount of backwards force. If you even poked his chest, he’d be back on the bed and apologizing. But that isn’t what happened. Your hand grabbed his tie and pulled him closer to you, deeper into you. 

When you pulled back from Barty, you were both breathing heavily.

Then Barty smirked. “No more being nervous ‘round me, yeah? Unless we're fixing it like that.”

“What do you mean? He’s a proper catch!” Sirius said, defending James for him. 

James moved slightly so his face wasn’t buried in his pillow. He groaned again.

“Then why can’t he get a girl?”

“Not that he can’t. He just doesn’t want any one beside Evans,” Sirius said.

“I think it’s can’t,” Peter said, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face. He didn’t mind playing devil’s advocate; it was fun.

James sat up. “I can get a girl.”

“Yeah? Care to prove it?” 

“Pick one. And when I get her wrapped around my finger, you’ll owe me ten galleons.”

Peter’s smile twisted into a mischievous smirk. “Y/N Flint. Get her to kiss you before we leave for Christmas. Has to be her making the move.”

James’ expression fell just slightly before he masked it. Peter chose a challenge. This wasn’t just if James could get a girl, it was if James could get an unattainable girl. You were about as likely to go out with James as Lily was. 

You practically had your own guard: Evan Rosier, Anthony Avery, John Mulciber and Stefan Wilkes. Sometimes Severus Snape, Barty Crouch Jr. and Regulus Black would be there too. You were always around one of them, usually more. It made you not the most approachable person. James couldn’t just walk up to you. 

So, he started with baby-steps. The first being observation. Was there ever a time when you were alone? Or at least without the boys. James figured he could try talking to you if it was Dorcas, Pandora or Samantha. To his dismay, you were never alone. 

He reminded himself: baby-steps. In his observing, he realized he learned your schedule fairly easily. He could attempt to catch your eye and wave to you. Part of the challenge was getting you to come onto him so why not get you to do the work from the beginning? 

The first time you caught James looking at you, it’s across the Transfiguration classroom in the middle of McGonagall’s lecture. He smiled when he realized you’re actually looking back at him and he held your gaze until you looked away. You caught him looking at you a few more times throughout lessons that day. It hit the point where you approached him after Arithmancy.

“What are you looking at, Potter?” you asked, voice level and uninterested, like it was a chore to ask him.

“Thought it was pretty obvious,” he said with an easy smile.

“Then why?”

“To get you to talk to me. Worked, didn’t it?”

“And why do you need me to talk to you?” you asked, crossing your arms. 

“Well, your friends are a bit… unnerving.” James stood up with a misguided notion that you were actually going to stand there and chat with him.

“Unnerving? Huh, I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.” You gave him a quick once over before adding, “Cute.” Then you looked over to where Dorcas was just getting up from her desk. “Come on, Dorcas.”

You walked out of the classroom with Dorcas following closely behind. The latter glanced back at James confused. 

“Hear that, lads? I’m cute.” 

“Don’t think she meant it as a compliment…” Remus muttered. 

James waved a dismissing hand at Remus. It was part of the process. James didn’t expect you to be falling all over him because he simply looked at you. He knew you weren’t that type of girl. He planned to prove to you that he was worth your time and once you decided he was, you’d be kissing him in no time. 

“What was that with Potter?” Dorcas asked as she walked with you to the dungeons. 

“Not sure. But apparently you’re unnerving.” You smiled at her.

“Did he say me specifically? I would hope I’m more, ah, what’s the word, daunting.” 

“He said my friends.”

“Then I think he’s referring to the idiots who couldn’t make it into N.E.W.T. level Arithmancy.” 

“Dropping Arithmancy was a choice,” Evan said, making himself known. He had been silently walking behind the girls with Stefan. 

“Hi, how was class? Study hall was a bore,” you said overenthusiastically. “Class was great, thanks for asking, Evan.” 

“Why would we ask when you’re just going to do it for us?” Stefan asked, stepping forward and putting an arm around Dorcas’ shoulders. 

She quickly shrugged him off. 

“It’s called manners. And you both could use to learn some.” 

Evan dropped into a deep bow. “Please accept my deepest apologies, your majesty. How may I ever make it up to you?” 

You gave Dorcas a look and the two of you kept walking towards your common room. Stefan nudged Evan and they were followed, giving you a little more space than before but not enough that they’d have to give the password again. 

At dinner, you let curiosity get the best of you. You glanced toward the Gryffindor table a few times, and every time, James was already looking at you. This had to mean that he wanted something other than just getting you to talk to him. You had talked to him. He didn’t say anything worth listening to. 

You let James get in your head too easily. How could one person looking at you constantly be enough to get you to be quiet at dinner? It wasn’t like people never looked at you. You were a Flint, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, and you liked to think you were both smart and pretty. People noticed when you walked into rooms. 

“Thinking about something?” Pandora asked when you and your roommates were getting ready for bed. “You’ve been quiet.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips. “Of all people, James Potter.” 

Samantha and Pandora both stared at you, wide-eyed and waiting for an explanation. Dorcas had at least seen you talk to him today, but was interested nonetheless. 

“Go on,” Samantha said. 

“Just been staring at me all day. Bit weird.”

“Maybe he’s moved on from that mudblood he’s been chasing,” Samantha said. “You’d be quite the upgrade.” 

“Because that’s what I need, Potter’s undivided attention and affection.”

You gave James two more days of staring at you before you would talk to him again. This time, it was after Potions. You put your hand on his book and looked at his friends.

“Move on, boys.” 

James smiled at his friends as they finished putting their things away at an ever-so-slightly quickened pace. You took your hand off James’ book and leaned against his station with your arms crossed once the boys were gone. 

“You’ve been staring.” 

“Yeah. Ever heard of the phrase ‘keep your eye on the prize’?” 

You nodded slowly, tilting your head from one side to the other.

“I have. I have… But I fear it doesn’t apply in this situation,” you said. 

“What would apply? Enlighten me.” 

You rolled your eyes with a sigh. “If you want it, you got to work for it.” You stopped leaning against his brewing station. “Simply staring won’t get you anywhere in life. Enjoy the free advice.” 

You were about to walk away when James grabbed your wrist. You looked at him impatiently. You could see Evan, Anthony and John over James’ shoulder. Your “unnerving” friends could be at your side in an instant if James made the wrong move, not that you’d actually need their help. 

“I’ll put in the work. I’d go the extra mile.” 

“If that’s so, don’t be afraid of my friends. They’re harmless.” You smiled sweetly. “Until they’re provoked.”

You pulled your wrist out of his hand and left the classroom. Evan, Anthony and John walked closer to James’ desk than they needed to as they trailed behind you. 

James stood there for a moment. Until they’re provoked. Right. Because all the times he’s pranked your friends over the years hasn’t provoked them. 

You didn’t see James staring at you across the Great Hall during dinner. You thought you had escaped whatever he was trying to do. It relaxed you. Usually whatever James was up to was no good and you had no desire to be on the receiving end of one of his pranks or schemes or jokes or whatever. 

James was simply gathering himself. It was an embarrassing amount of repeating to himself that your friends were harmless. Then he had to figure out when he would talk to you again and what he would say. His previous conversations with you were short. He had to admit that he didn’t actually know much about you. 

His staring dramatically decreased the next day. You were convinced that James really was scared of your friends. But then he approached you during study hall, despite the fact that you were sitting with Severus, Anthony and John. The boys stared him down as he stood next to you for a few seconds without saying anything.

He cleared his throat. “Hey, Y/N.” 

“Hello, Potter,” you said as you continued to work on the Ancient Runes essay you had in front of you. 

“I was wondering if you’d done the Herbology worksheet,” James said slowly, as if testing the waters. 

“I think I’m about halfway done with it.”

“Oh, brilliant. Would you want to work on it together?” James asked, already sitting down and opting to ignore the increasingly intense stares of your friends. 

“Might as well,” you replied with a shrug before reaching into your bag to putt it out. “Any chance you actually pay attention?”

“Occasionally, but I’ve become quite skilled at finding answers in the book.”

A brief, quiet laugh escaped your lips. It was enough to make James smile and take a breath of relief. You had somewhat hoped James had taken notes in class so the sheet would be more fill-in-the-blank, but instead, he had pulled out the textbook and set it between you. Yours was back in your dorm. It was a thick tome that you couldn’t be bothered to carry, even when Professor Sprout requested that students bring it to class. 

“First question, did you get four glossy, smooth-edged leaves?” you asked.

“Yes. And two should be itchiness and swelling.”

“Until asphyxiation.”

James chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Erm, yeah, I suppose. Or until an antidote is applied.”

“No guarantee anyone’s around to apply it.”

“Okay. Um, number three, underwater fiery petunia weed?”

You hummed affirmatively. “And false for four. I stopped there last night. Got bored.”

“Five should be blooms once every four years,” James said, flipping back a few pages in the textbook and pointing to a section under a diagram of a flower. “And six might just be bees? I’m not sure if she’s counting manual pollination.”

You leaned over to see the section he was referring to in order to copy down the answer. In doing so, you caught a whiff of his cologne. It took you by surprise. It was nice. It was different than what your friends usually wore, but in a good way. It was a warmer scent that didn’t scream This costs one hundred galleons. 

As you worked on the rest of the worksheet, you and James shared his book, both of you scanning the sections at your own paces and letting the other know when you were ready for a page flip. You’re certain you finished it faster and more correctly than if you had done it on your own. James muttered a few comments here and there that made you smile. Even though your focus was mainly on the worksheet, you could still feel James’ eyes occasionally drift to you and linger. So he was still staring. 

“Oh, that was the last question… Not so bad,” James said, flipping over the double-sided sheet from back to front to back. “Thanks for working on it with me. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing.”

He gave you a wide smile and moved to stand up, but you grabbed his wrist. He gave you a questioning look. 

You rose just enough to whisper in his ear, “You smell good.” 

Then you let go of him and sat back down. His smile widened even more. You returned it with a sly smile. He nodded and went back to his friends. John watched James leave with a wary expression before turning to look at you.

“What was that?” 

“Herbology homework.”

“I meant-”

“I know. Not exactly,” you snapped. Now you had to work on your Ancient Runes assignment before you lost the motivation to do so. 

Now that James had sat at the same table as you with your unofficial guard, he felt more confident. The next day, he was saying hi to you when he passed by in the corridor. He was still staring at you from across the classroom, but now when you caught him, he flashed you a brilliant smile, one that was more happiness filled than cocky, and a wave. 

After Herbology, he stopped by your station and said, “Just bees was correct. Glad I didn’t change it.”

“Shame she didn’t include asphyxiation though,” you replied. 

Pandora’s curious expression when he walked away was priceless. It was understandable though. James had never exchanged little comments like that with you before. 

He made it clear that he was no longer intimidated by your male friends. A few days later, he approached you after lessons and asked if you’d want to work on homework in the library with him.

“You know where the library is, Potter?” you asked.

“It’s that big room that I usually avoid,” he said, lips twitching into a smirk. “If I didn’t know where it was, I might wander in there by accident.”

“But you’re offering to go there now? Willingly?” you asked with an overly-sweet tone. 

He shrugged and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. “Is that not where you usually do homework?” 

“Common room, actually. But you can’t go there. So, sure. Lead the way to the forbidden land, Potter.”

Dorcas and Anthony watched as you left them to go with James. 

“This is weird, right?” she asked him.

“Very.” 

“I’m going to find Pandora. We’ll keep an eye on him,” Dorcas said. 

All the two girls would see in the library would be you and James sitting next to each other, textbooks spread across the table as you worked on homework. Every once in a while, one of you would say something that would make the other laugh. It appeared simple, innocent, friendly. That made it all the more suspicious to them. 

“You know he’s not a threat,” you hissed, breaking the two girls out of their zoned out state. You had spotted them a few tables away and excused yourself. 

“What?” Dorcas asked. “Are we not allowed to work on homework in here?” 

You looked at their table. Dorcas had a Defense textbook open and Pandora was doodling. 

“Homework. Right.” 

“Yup. I’m going to turn this in for extra credit. Sprout will love it,” Pandora said with a nod.

“Okay,” you said, shaking your head. 

It would take a few more asking you to study before your friends stopped questioning it. Well, they still questioned it, but they didn’t bring any attention to it. You agreed to go with him. You seemed in a decent enough mood when you came back to the common room or to the Slytherin table for dinner. 

“Y/N, can I ask you something?” James asked as he tucked his Potions’ essay into his bag. 

You hummed, still finishing yours. 

“If I asked you to Hogsmeade, what would you say?” 

“In a hypothetical, I’d say no.” You saw his face fall in your periphery. “But that’s only a hypothetical. Too many variables.”

“Oh. Um, okay. Y/N, would you like to get butterbeers with me in Hogsmeade?” he asked, unsure if that’s what you were saying with the hypothetical and variable talk. 

“Like a date?” 

“Yes?”

“I’ll go on a date with you. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” James said, now smiling with a new brightness in his eyes. “Meet you at the Three Broomsticks?”

You nodded. 

“Great, I’ll see you then.”

James was extra smiley when he got back to his dorm. You agreed to a date. He could get a date. It wasn’t like you were going out with just any bloke who asked you. This was something. James could get a girl. Just not Lily apparently. 

You kept your date with James under wraps. Your friends, who already disliked James, didn’t need to know that you were going to be spending more time with him. So when it was time to meet James in Hogsmeade, you slipped away from your friends. They were in an intense argument about something or other. 

James was waiting for you outside the Three Broomsticks. His face brightened when he spotted you. 

“You came,” he said as you got closer. He opened the door for you.

“I said I’d go on a date with you. I keep my word.”

“I’m glad.” 

“Up to you to ensure I don’t regret it,” you said, picking a table to sit at. “Was this why you started staring at me?” 

“If I’m being honest, yes. I knew I had to be your friend before I could dream of getting you here.” 

“You’re not the only one who’s dreamed about dating me,” you teased. 

“I would be surprised if I was. You’re beautiful.”

“And a damn good time,” you added with a smile. 

“That I’ve come to know,” James said. “Never been upset when I’m with you.”

“I’m waiting for you to piss me off. Feels like it happen eventually.”

“If you think I’m going to piss you off, why did you agree to come?” 

“See how long it takes.”

“And here I was hoping that you might actually like me.”

“I’m debating it. You haven’t been as bad as I was expecting.”

“Coming to see that I’m a delight?” he asked.

You laughed. He was proving to be alright. He could make you laugh and make time pass by quicker. He didn’t seem to care about little status things, which you were debating if you liked or not. 

“Speaking of delights, Flitwick’s exam? How do you think you did?” James asked. 

It’s strange how easy it is to talk to James. This was more continuous conversation, only broken up by sips of butterbeer, rather than the miscellaneous comments while you worked on homework. You talked about the exam and the homework. You joked about your friends and their arguments. James talked about some drama that was going down in the Gryffindor Tower. 

By the time you’d gone through a few cups of butterbeer, you had decided that James wasn’t too bad. He didn’t piss you off. He listened to your stories. He laughed at your jokes. Despite some hesitancy, you would admit that you liked spending time with James. 

You figured he must feel the same since he kept finding time to be near you. You studied together even more frequently. He walked with you to classes you had together, even if your other friends were with you. They didn’t really warm up to James. They simply tolerated him for your sake. 

Then he didn’t split up from you when you reached the Great Hall. He followed you all the way to the Slytherin table. You expected him to turn around when you sat down, for him to cross the hall to Gryffindor’s table. But when you sat down, so did he. 

“Excuse me?” Severus snapped. 

James looked at you, silently asking if it was okay that he had sat down. 

“Bugger off, Snape. He’s with me,” you said, giving James a soft smile. 

The boys around you, besides James, exchanged glances that you chose to ignore. James had become your friend and was steadily working toward something more. The boys would have to get used to him being around. Dorcas and Pandora were a smidge warmer to James. So at least he had that. 

Dinner ended up only being slightly awkward. You acted like nothing was weird. It was just all your friends together and you could bridge the gaps in the conversation. Soon enough, your laugh was being met with those of your friends. James bumped shoulders with you and shared smaller smiles with you. 

He became almost like a shadow to you. Walking you to class, carrying your books, studying in the library, hanging out in alcoves. You stood next to him during the Hufflepuff versus Ravenclaw quidditch game. James sat at the Slytherin table from time to time. Dorcas and Pandora accepted that he could keep good conversation, but the boys still held out on him. But one thing was certain: you and James were something. You didn’t define it or put a label on it, but something was there. 

It was a few days before students were to leave for Christmas break. James had yet to kiss you. You almost wanted to throw it in his face, saying that he was some Gryffindor if he couldn’t kiss the girl he’d been going around with. You didn’t. Maybe he was waiting for the right moment. 

“James!” you called across Central Hall. You laughed as you got closer and saw that he was holding a small box. “We had the same idea, didn’t we?”

You held out your own small box for him. He smiled and swapped the two.

“I didn’t want to risk not seeing on the last day,” he said. 

“Unlikely.”

“I know. But go on. Open it.” 

You untied the ribbon before peeling the edges of the wrapping up. 

“A box! Perfect!”

“Your favorite, I know.”

You opened the box and your smile grew twice the size. It was a simple necklace with an amethyst pendant. 

“You ranted about being tired of diamonds once and I know you like purple…” he muttered, like he needed to explain his gift choice. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him. 

“James, it’s perfect,” you breathed as you took a step back. “Wait, wasn’t that diamond rant from before you started staring at me?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Just because I wasn’t looking doesn’t mean I wasn’t listening.” He shifted his weight. “But you really like it?” 

“I love it. Will you put it on me?” 

He took the small box from you to remove the necklace. You lifted your hair so that he could clasp it around your neck. 

“Aren’t you going to open yours?” you asked, turning back around. 

“I mean, I don’t need to. You already gave me the best gift.” 

“Open it!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. 

He didn’t take nearly as much care with removing the wrapping and when he opened the box, a small broom zipped out and flew around his head. James reached out to catch it and turned it over in his hands, careful to not let it escape.

“Oh, this is brilliant!” he said. He let it go for a few seconds before grabbing it again.

“The handle is a switch. You can adjust it so it doesn’t fly or so it just levitates in one spot,” you explained, toying with your new necklace.

James fidgeted with the handle until the tiny broom hovered over his hand without flying off.

“This is so cool.” He glanced at the library. “Did you have homework, or…”

“I don’t have any. Jus’ was looking for you.” 

James slid the broom into his pocket and grabbed his hand. “Then let’s go to the greenhouses. It’s warm in there.” 

You let James lead you there, finding a bench in the upper levels. He put his arm around your shoulders as you sat together. 

“Got anything planned for break?” James asked.

For a while, the two of you talked about your families’ holiday traditions. When he had to go, he kissed your hand and winked. You stayed in the warmth of the greenhouse for a bit longer, playing with the pendant and smiling to yourself. 

“I hear you got your kiss,” Peter said the moment James walked through the door of his dorm. 

“Cough up your galleons then,” Remus said. “I believe you agreed to ten.”

Peter went to dig for the coins.

“Don’t worry about it yet, Peter. I haven’t broken up with her yet.”

“Why not?” Peter asked, hand rummaging around his trunk. 

“Because that would be rude? We just exchanged Christmas gifts and you kissed me. See you? I’ll end it later.” 

Remus and Peter left it at that. Except, James didn’t break things off with you before break started. The more he thought about it, the more he didn’t want to break your heart. Before Christmas, right – that part was important. He could end things when you got back in person. 

Sirius was told that James won the bet. After that, no one mentioned you. You didn’t come up on the ride to King’s Cross. Sirius didn’t bring you up to James’ parents when they came to pick the two boys up. And for the first few days of break, Sirius didn’t see who James was writing letters to. He assumed his friend was writing to Remus or Peter or Marlene or someone else on the quidditch team. 

“James, you got mail!” Sirius yelled from the kitchen one morning. An owl had already been by with the post. Sirius flipped through the letters and stopped on one with a heard on it. “Who’s this one from?” 

James, having just walked into the kitchen, took the letters from Sirius. 

“Oh, that’s from Y/N.”

“Why is she writing to you? And with a heart? Couldn’t get over you or something?” 

“No,” James said, shaking his head. “I didn’t break up with her.”

“You didn’t end things? You proved yourself, mate. You don’t have to waste your time on her anymore.” 

“Not going to ruin her holiday. That’s cruel.” 

James left the kitchen to read your letter in privacy. He thought that he should’ve corrected Sirius that he wasn’t wasting his time. He actually enjoyed spending time with you and looked forward to your letters. You were complaining about a dinner your parents dragged you to. You were the only one there under 30. James immediately went to write back.

Sirius started checking the mail every day. There was always a letter from you. He had no clue what you and James were talking about that could warrant daily correspondence like this. Especially when James was going to break up with you. 

A few days after Christmas, he opened one of the letters. You were writing from your grandparents’ house and saying that James would love their cooking. It didn’t even seem like James had planted a seed of uncertainty in you. From the letter, it looked like everything was good between you. So Sirius took things into his own hands. He wrote back to you and burned the letter you had sent. 

In the letter Sirius wrote posing as James? He broke up with you. He wrote how it had started. A bet to rebuild his confidence after a painful rejection from Lily. And since he had gotten his kiss, he didn’t need you anymore. But, Hope we can still be friends. 

You stared at the letter when it arrived. Your chest felt empty as you sat on the guest bed you had claimed as your own. You had been used. Your friends were right to be wary of James. You should have listened to them. You ripped the necklace James gave you off your neck, breaking the chain. You felt bad about hiding in your room at your grandparents’ house, but you didn’t want to see anyone. Not while you were crying and heartbroken. 

What made things worse when you got back to school was James really leaning into the “Hope we can still be friends.” He tried talking to you, walking with you, waving to you across corridors. You ignored him. You didn’t know how he thought he could be your friend after using you like that. After making you like him. 

“Hey, Y/N!” he called, jogging to catch up with you as you quickly left the Transfiguration classroom. “Wait up!”

You didn’t. You kept walking. He broke into a full-out sprint to get to you. You only stopped because he grabbed your arm. 

“Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to study together, but something’s off with you.” You rolled your eyes. “D’you want to talk about it?” 

You yanked your arm out of his hand.

“Talk about it? Why would I talk about it with you?”

He stared at you for a second. There was bite in your voice and anger in your eyes. He wasn’t expecting that from you, although he supposed your letters did stop rather abruptly. 

“I… I don’t…”

“You were using me to get over Evans’ rejection. You did it,” you snapped bitterly. “I don’t know why you’re still talking to me. You made it pretty clear in your letter that you didn’t need me. So, just, fuck off, Potter.”

You stalked away from him, leaving him standing there. In his letter? He hadn’t written anything like that to you. He knew he was going to have to tell you eventually that it started as a bet, but he really enjoyed your company and wasn’t planning on ending things. He was so confused. He had grown to like you. Really like you. And you had looked like you would murder him if he tried to talk to you again. He was fucked and he didn’t know why.

You more or less put two and two together the next day when you didn’t see him at all. You didn’t bring it up for a few days. You waited until you were skipping stones on a nearby pond. 

“You’re a werewolf, aren’t you?” you asked, snapping your wrist to send a smooth stone across the water. 

You could see him freeze in your peripheral vision. He didn’t say anything. 

“I don’t mind. Just curious.”

“You… don’t mind?” he asked slowly. “How do you not mind?” 

You shrugged and threw another stone. 

“You’re not like, scary.”

“You haven’t seen me when… I… you know…” 

“I guess that’s my point? I don’t know, how long have you been one?”

“A few years at this point…” he said quietly. 

“Okay, and we’ve been friends for longer and it’s never been a problem. Don’t see why it’s a problem now.”

“Because you know that I’m a… a… a monster.”

“The most harmless one, if at all.” You smiled at him and Remus got the message he wasn’t getting rid of you any time soon. 

He couldn’t even get rid of you when you got sorted into a different house than him at Hogwarts. You’d sit with Remus in the library for hours. He was always studying and you would do anything but. You told him that you hated how everyone thought Slytherins were cold and mean, which meant people assumed you were cold and mean before getting to know you. He told you that he was scared about anyone at Hogwarts finding out what he was. 

“Hey, you’ll always have me,” you assured him.

Two years later, his roommates, who had been amazing friends to Remus, found out. You were barely into your third year and Remus was terrified that he’d be kicked out of his dorm. You grabbed his hand after classes and brought him to a room hidden behind a tapestry that you had found last year. 

“So they said they don’t mind that you’re you know. What’s the problem then?” you asked, leaning back against the wall. “I told you I didn’t mind and I still don’t. And I’m still your friend.”

“But you don’t live with me. When they come to their senses, they won’t want to live with a monster.”

“If they want you out of the dorm, you can come to mine. You’d make it more tolerable.”

He gave you a sad look. “Does your dorm allow boys? Gryffindor’s stairs turn into a slide if a boy tries to go up them.”

You bit your lip and thought about it. You had never seen a boy around the girls’ dorms. 

“Possibly. Then… we can fix up that place you go for your transformations. Make it all nice ‘n’ stuff.”

Remus huffed a laugh. He shook his head and leaned against the opposite wall.

“It’s a shack. I can’t live there.”

“Well, if they kick you out of your dorm, we’ll deal with it together. You’ll always have me.” 

“Thanks.”

“Now, that Astronomy essay? Why? Why was that assigned? Were star charts not enough?” you complained. Remus appreciated the change of subject. 

No shocker to you, but his roommates didn’t kick him out. It looked like they surrounded him with more support and friendship than they did before. When werewolves came up in class, they made sure that Remus was okay and they spoke out against stereotypes. It was nice to see. 

Your friendship with Remus didn’t change as he got closer with the boys. While they had him more during the school year, you still had him to yourself over breaks. Even if the boys invited him over, his parents were hesitant to let him go, telling him it was safer for him to stay home. You listened to him rant about it. But his parents didn’t know that the boys knew about Remus’ lycanthropy. He’d tell them eventually, but not at 14. He didn’t want to risk losing the friends who were becoming his brothers. 

Then, it did change. You were laying in the grass with him. It was a classic set up: your head in his lap as you watched the clouds and he read. Something made you reach for his hand, the one not holding the book. You brought it to rest on your stomach and laced your fingers through his. It was frankly quite a bold move from you. It made Remus freeze for a moment. He looked down at you with a softness in his eyes and a small smile.

“This okay?” you asked. 

He nodded.

Neither of you actually said anything for that summer, but you felt the shift. He grabbed your hand when you were walking somewhere. You rested your head on his shoulder when you were sitting next to each other. Unspoken but together. 

You were both trying to work up the courage to kiss the other. The pressure built slowly. There were a few almosts where you thought he was going to but chickened out. 

In late August, you went to Diagon Alley with him, and your families, to get your school supplies. As usual, your parents let you and Remus loose in Flourish & Blotts. They went to find the books you’d need for the school while you and Remus got lost in the shelves looking for something you could read for fun. It was in those shelves that Remus kissed your cheek for the first time. It was very unceremonious and very out of the blue. You had been reaching for a book. Remus grabbed it for you and after handing it to you, he kissed your cheek. You both turned bright red before you started giggling and smiling as widely as you could. Your parents, thankfully, didn’t question why you were both so red when you handed them the books you wanted. 

A few days later, the night before going back to school, you and Remus were sitting on the steps behind his house. 

“We’re dating, right?” you asked quietly. 

Remus looked down at your interlaced hands and then at your face. 

“I thought we were.”

You nodded with a sigh. “Okay. Good. I thought so too.” You took a breath. “Are we still dating tomorrow?” 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” 

“Because tomorrow I’m a Slytherin and you’re a Gryffindor? Here, we’re just us.”

Remus chose then to lean in and kiss you. It was a few seconds of pure awkwardness. It was simply lips touching and neither of you really knowing what you were doing. You looked shocked when he pulled back.

“I’ll date you until you realize that I’m actually dangerous.”

“Then you’ll always have me,” you said with a small smile. 

You sat with Remus on those back steps with your head on his shoulder and his hand in yours until your parents called for you to come home and go to bed. 

A few days later in the room behind the tapestry, Remus would tell you that he still wants to date you, but he can’t tell his friends. They hate all Slytherins, including you despite his attempts to convince them that you’re great. 

“I told you,” you said sadly. “But, I said you’ll always have me and I mean it. I’m yours, even if no one knows.” 

So you told no one. Your roommates knew you were dating a non-Slytherin. You disappeared enough for them to figure that out, but you refused to tell him who. And Remus would take the map with him when he met up with you in that room behind the tapestry. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough. You treasured those moments that you got to have him to yourself. 

But mid-spring, something changed. Remus met you at your usual time in the hidden room. He looked nervous, like a bird ready to take off at any sudden sound. 

“Remus,” you said, standing up to hug him.

Except he stopped you, holding you at arms’ length for a moment before dropping his arms. 

“I… I can’t date you anymore. It’s not safe.” You opened your mouth to object but Remus kept talking. “I know you think it’s fine, that I haven’t hurt you in the past. I… I can’t risk it. It’s not safe to be around me, for anyone. And we’ve just been lucky so far. I’m so sorry.”

Then he left. The cloth flapped gently in his wake as your heart shattered. You thought everything was good between you. You knew Remus worried about hurting you, but you never went out when it was a full moon. You always waited for him to come to you, or to ask for you so you’d know it was safe. You weren’t about to risk your life. You weren’t dumb. 

You didn’t know what changed. 

If you had been paying more attention to Remus and his friends, you would’ve seen a change in all of them. It wasn’t just Remus. And it wasn’t just Remus and you. It was like he was pulling away from the boys as well. Somehow you missed the rumors that Severus Snape went out looking for a werewolf and found one. You missed how Snape was apparently tipped off by Sirius and James stopped him from getting too close. You heard none of that. 

Part of you hoped that you could still be friends with Remus at home. But no. Remus stayed inside more that summer than he ever did. He deliberately avoided you. It was killing you. It didn’t help that your parents didn’t understand what happened between you and Remus and would bring him up, asking if you’d seen him recently. Nothing like almost breaking down in tears at the dinner table. 

Words couldn’t describe how painful it was to see Remus at King’s Cross station, and in the Great Hall and then in classes. Somehow worse was seeing him with all of his friends. James, Sirius and Peter flanked him nearly everywhere he went. He was never alone. And you were. How was he too dangerous to be around you and not them? It didn’t make sense. 

There were nights when you couldn’t sleep. You were trying to figure out why Remus really broke up with you since it clearly wasn’t because Remus thought he was dangerous. Were you not pretty enough? Not fun enough? Did he suddenly despise your personality? Had you said something that didn’t sit right with him? Were you not trying enough? How could you not be trying enough when he was the one who wanted to keep your relationship a secret? 

You kept coming back to why Remus wanted to keep it a secret. Your house. Remus couldn’t stand the fact that you were a Slytherin. He’d always said that he knew you, that he knew you weren’t cold and mean and overly proud. He said he’d eventually get his friends to warm up to you. He said… 

He must’ve been lying the whole time. He must’ve hated that you were put into Slytherin, believed it was a sign of your true character, that you were just as bad as everyone else and was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And he just got tired of waiting. 

It was mid-October when you snapped. The full moon came and passed and Remus didn’t appear to push them away at all. You saw him napping on Sirius’ shoulder during History of Magic. He’d be completely vulnerable with him but wouldn’t even sit with you in the hidden room anymore. 

You waited until your last class of the day. You marched over to Remus’ desk, where he was still putting his things away. James, Sirius and Peter were all there. Their conversation died the moment they saw you, smiles dropping from their faces. 

“What do you want, snake?” James asked dryly. 

“We need to talk,” you said, only looking at Remus despite him looking anywhere but at you. 

You grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the classroom. The other three boys called after you, asking where you were going and what you needed to talk to him about. You kept walking. You didn’t look back. You dragged Remus all the way to the room behind the tapestry. And even in there, he wouldn’t look at you. 

“Remus.” 

Nothing. 

“I swear to Merlin, Remus, look at me!” 

He slowly raised his eyes to meet yours. He didn’t look happy, eyes glassy and hands fidgety. You’re grateful that he didn’t look scared, but he used to be happy when he spent time with you in this room. 

“I… I just want to know what happened. Between us,” you said with a defeated sighed. 

“I’m too-”

“Dangerous? Too dangerous for me but not for Peter? Not for James? Sirius?” 

And he was no longer looking at you.

“I know why. I just need to hear you say it.” You hugged your chest, although Remus perceived it as crossing your arms. 

“I can’t bear the thought of hurting you,” he whispered. “The boys… They enjoy putting themselves in danger and won’t let me-”

“I know you broke up with me for more than that sorry excuse. I told you that you’ll always have me and I mean it. So don’t give me that excuse. I know it’s not the real reason you broke my heart.”

Remus looked pitiful as he peered back at you. He looked sorry, which you expected, but also confused. In his mind, he had broken up with you purely because he couldn’t bear the idea of being in love with you and then hurting you because of what he is. He had no idea what you were going on about.

“I… I don’t understand?” His voice sounded weak. “What do you mean ‘real reason’?” 

You laughed, but it was pained. It hurt Remus to hear it. It had hurt Remus to see you in the aftermath of the breakup. That was part of why he avoided you all summer. He couldn’t bear to see you looking so brokenhearted. He had hoped you would be back to yourself by now. 

“You got tired, Remus. Tired of pretending you’re okay that I’m a Slytherin. How could you be friends with, let alone dating, a Slytherin? Because we’re all horrible people, right? Right?” Something broke in your chest and you fell to the floor in tears. Your voice cracked as you continued to talk. “I just wish you had the guts to tell me the truth. I know that you are what you are and it means nothing to me. And I guess I thought you knew what I am when you kissed me. Held my hand. Held me.” A sharp breath shook your body. “You said we’d be fine. Then you tell me that you can’t tell anyone about me because of what I am. I… I just need to hear you say it so I can move on.” 

Remus took a tentative step toward you. His knees popped as he squatted in front of you, just within arms’ reach. He wanted to reach out, to comfort you, but he didn’t know his place at this exact moment. It didn’t help that the sight in front of him broke his heart. 

“It was never about your house,” Remus said softly, trying to find the words to say. “I know not every Slytherin is a criminal-in-training. I know that because I know you.”

This time, it was you who couldn’t bring yourself to look at Remus. It hurt to hear him say that when you knew it was a lie. 

“You were the best thing to ever happen to me. You’re lovely and beautiful and brilliant and determined and you stuck with me even when I warned you that you could get hurt. I just can’t risk you getting hurt. I know you want to risk it, but I really can’t. I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you.”

You shook your head. Tears were streaming down your face as you lifted your head. 

“The werewolf didn’t hurt me. It never has because I’m not an idiot. I’m not going to put myself in danger. You hurt me. You’re still hurting me. I know you’re lying.”

Remus let himself fall onto his knees so he’d be closer to you. His hands found yours. 

“I don’t think you understand,” Remus said, practically pleading with you to listen to him. “I would never have left you if I thought you could be safe around me. I almost killed someone last year. I don’t know what I would’ve done if it had been you. I don’t know how I could live with myself if I killed someone I love.” 

“Wh-what?” 

“Severus Snape knows what I am. He… he was there when I… and if James hadn’t…” Remus couldn’t bring himself to fully describe what had happened in the spring.

“Someone you love?” 

Remus stared at you with his mouth agape. 

“I tell you I almost killed someone and that’s what you-”

“Someone you love?” you repeated louder. 

Remus let go of your hands with one of his so that he could rub the back of his neck. 

“Yeah, I love you. That's why I need you to stay away from me, because I’m not safe and I cannot hurt someone I love.” 

“Snape’s an idiot for approaching a suspected werewolf on a full moon. That would never be your fault. Not in a million years,” you said, circling back to what Remus deemed the more important part of the conversation. Then in a softer voice, “You love me.” 

“I do. You’re the best damned thing on earth. Probably in the whole universe. How could I not love you?”

You sighed. “Remus John Lupin, you are an idiot. You are the most careful person I have ever met. You wouldn’t hurt someone, even Snape, if you had a drop of control. And I’ll be damned if I let you leave this room without you knowing that.” 

“But if I hurt you-”

“You hurt me by pushing me away. And if those idiot friends of yours can get around that, so can I. You’ll always have me. Because you love me and I love you and it makes zero sense for us to not be together. Got it?” 

Remus nodded. You took the hand still holding yours and brought it to your lips to place a soft kiss on his knuckles. 

“You owe me for breaking my heart though.”