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forestdeath1 · 2 months

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Canon Sirius through quotes

Part 3. Harshness and toughness (and how Sirius Black differs from James Potter). It's long. Really long.

Sirius isn't a soft crybaby. His harshness (and even cruelty) goes beyond the silly teenage pranks we usually see in fanfiction. Sirius is often either whitewashed by newer fans or overly demonized by anti-Marauders fans. Sirius has a tough exterior but a heart of gold. He's not childish and had to grow up early, though he can still be quite fun.

‘Do you know, I still have trouble believing it,’ said Madam Rosmerta thoughtfully. ‘Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought ... .’

"Of all the people to go over to the Dark side, Sirius Black was the last I’d have thought" – this shouldn't be taken literally. Rosmerta saw many others regularly, Dumbledore, Lily, Remus, and many others, and out of all of them, Sirius Black was the last who could turn to the Dark side? Seriously? Did Sirius walk around with a halo and angel wings?

One trait that is always emphasized in his appearance is his haughty, bored look.

Rosmerta speaks metaphorically, not literally. She saw Sirius once a month or two when they went out to Hogsmeade to have fun and drink. In those moments, Sirius was lively, funny and noisy (especially lively after running away from home), and perhaps he even flirted with Rosmerta in a childish manner, melting the heart of the adult woman.

Sirius can be funny, although his humor is always edging towards dark:

"Imagine wasting your time and energy persecuting merpeople when there are little toerags like Kreacher on the loose.’

Ron laughed but Hermione looked upset.

‘Sirius!’ she said reproachfully. ‘Honestly, if you made a bit of an effort with Kreacher, I’m sure he’d respond. After all, you are the only member of his family he’s got left, and Professor Dumbledore said –’

‘So, what are Umbridge’s lessons like?’ Sirius interrupted. ‘Is she training you all to kill half-breeds?’

Moreover, he interrupts Hermione, not letting her finish her point. He sharply outlines if he doesn't want to listen.

"the stuffed elf-heads on the hall wall wore Father Christmas hats and beards"

Dark humor.

‘Kreacher is cleaning,’ the elf repeated. ‘Kreacher lives to serve the Noble House of Black –’

‘And it’s getting blacker every day, it’s filthy,’ said Sirius.

Here he responds with a clear "Black" shade. His mother also loved to talk about filth.

‘Sirius – it’s me ... it’s Peter ... your friend ... you wouldn’t ...’ Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled. ‘There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,’ said Black.

And again. And here’s his mother:

‘Filth! Scum! By-products of dirt and vileness! Half-breeds, mutants, freaks, begone from this place! How dare you befoul the house of my fathers –’

‘Stains of dishonour, filthy half-breeds, blood traitors, children of filth ...’

Sirius desperately wants to be unlike the Blacks, but he is still Sirius Black.

‘I thought it was the perfect plan ... a bluff ... Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like you ... it must have been the finest moment of your miserable life, telling Voldemort you could hand him the Potters.’

Sirius's humor isn't the only harsh thing about him. Even though here he has a reason – after Azkaban he met James's traitor – his way of speaking reflects his overall personality. The way one speaks is a mirror of personality, even if Sirius has PTSD, it only exposes even more vividly what he might control in a calm state.

‘Nasty temper he’s got, that Sirius Black.’ (Peeves)

At the same time, yes, he can be cheerful and infect everyone around him with his cheerfulness. If he's in a sombre mood, he creates a quite oppressive atmosphere around him that everyone feels. Just as with a good mood – everyone feels it.

Harry could not remember Sirius ever being in such a good mood; he was actually singing carols, apparently delighted that he was to have company over Christmas.

Sirius tramping past their door towards Buckbeak’s room, singing ‘God Rest Ye, Merry Hippogriffs’ at the top of his voice.

Sirius’s delight at having the house full again, and especially at having Harry back, was infectious. He was no longer their sullen host of the summer; now he seemed determined that everyone should enjoy themselves as much, if not more than they would have done at Hogwarts, and he worked tirelessly in the run-up to Christmas Day, cleaning and decorating with their help.

But the ability to be cheerful is in no way connected to being very harshn at the same time. This is precisely the case with Sirius.

Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous (the author wrote about him, “The best-looking, most rebellious, most dangerous of the four marauders”). James was also a bully, but he's not harsh, despite the fact that it was he who pulled down Snape's trousers. Why? I think Sirius was already aware of what they were doing. James – not. Without awareness, it's too early to speak of any harshness and cruelty. Sirius had this awareness and still continued to do it.

Let's consider the reactions of Sirius and James in comparison.

‘Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?’

Sirius did not smile. ‘My whole family have been in Slytherin,’ he said.

‘Blimey,’ said James, ‘and I thought you seemed all right!’

Sirius grinned. ‘Maybe I’ll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you’ve got the choice?’

A small note: Sirius didn't even react to James's "I'd leave", even though he knew his whole family was from Slytherin, and he was likely to go there too.

James lifted an invisible sword. ‘“Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!” Like my dad.’ Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him.

‘Got a problem with that?’ ‘No,’ said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. ‘If you’d rather be brawny than brainy –’

It was Snape who starts the confrontation on a personal level. James in his insults in this memory refers to moral qualities. "Who wants to be in Slytherin?" Only bad people. He is prejudiced against Slytherin because Slytherin is evil. Voldemort is gaining momentum. The first Muggle-born Minister was recently ousted. Attacks are happening here and there. Dark forces are growing. More and more of the pure-blood society talks about "Mudbloods" not belonging in this world. And "amazingly", they all turn out to be from Slytherin. James sees himself as a noble knight "James lifted an invisible sword", and he is against Slytherin not so much personally as against the moral component of Slytherin.

‘Where’re you hoping to go, seeing as you’re neither?’ interjected Sirius.

James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.

Sirius immediately strikes at Snape's personality. Sirius is sharp-tongued, self-assured, and likely accustomed to considering others below himself. He probably assessed James as his equal right away. Brave, cheerful, sincere.

'Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment.'

'Oooooo...'

James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Snape as he passed.

'See ya, Snivellus!' a voice called, as the compartment door slammed...

James tried to trip Snape. James most often uses physical/magical force. He trips Snape, he pulls down Snape's trousers, he uses most of the spells on Snape in SWM. But it's Sirius who goes after Snape's personality. It looks like James has concocted a "noble justification" for his behavior and attitude and punishes Snape for existing just as he is.

Sirius, on the other hand, hardly uses magical/physical force in memories; he finds painful points in Snape's personality – from character to appearance, intentionally demeaning his personal traits.

Moreover, it was Sirius who focused on Snape's appearance. No one, except him, places such an emphasis on Snape's unattractive appearance and his untidiness.

'Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was,'

Very vivid epithets. Sirius is very eloquent when it comes to demeaning someone he dislikes.

Moreover, it's James who's the attention seeker. It's James who plays with the snitch, drawing attention, glancing at the girls by the lake, and ruffling his hair to show everyone how cool, strong, brave, and awesome he is.

After five minutes of this, Harry wondered why James didn’t tell Wormtail to get a grip on himself, but James seemed to be enjoying the attention. Harry noticed that his father had a habit of rumpling up his hair as though to keep it from getting too tidy, and he also kept looking over at the girls by the water’s edge.

While Sirius, likely, isn't much interested in societal validation. Sirius is more reserved, with firmer boundaries, he's not as interested in public adoration as James might be.

Lupin had pulled out a book and was reading. Sirius stared around at the students milling over the grass, looking rather haughty and bored, but very handsomely so.

This is a typical expression for Sirius – bored and haughty. He spent nearly five full years in Gryffindor alongside James, and the bored and haughty expression is still with him. It's not just a random trait in his character – it's one of the pillars of his personality, reflecting his attitude towards random people around him.

‘Put that away, will you,’ said Sirius finally, as James made a fine catch and Wormtail let out a cheer, ‘before Wormtail wets himself with excitement.’

As I've said, Sirius cuts with his words without a knife. They've been studying together for five years, been friends with Peter, and he jokes about Peter like this. I think they all joked about each other in the same way, just James's "jokes" are blunt and probably he just says whatever comes to mind, whereas Sirius's are more subtle and hurtful.

Moreover, when people say this is the only episode we know of bullying by James and Sirius and that it's the worst in their history, that's not correct. This episode is the worst in Snape's life. And not because they pulled down his trousers. But because he lost Lily forever that day. This episode, likely, was quite typical for the Marauders. They were in a good mood, had finished exams, Snape just happened to pass by, there were no obvious reasons for this bullying. Harry sifted through their detention records, and there were many, very many, and how many more when they weren't caught?

Sirius got bored, and there they decided to "have some fun."

‘I’m bored,’ said Sirius. ‘Wish it was full moon.’

‘You might,’ said Lupin darkly from behind his book. ‘We’ve still got Transfiguration, if you’re bored you could test me. Here ...’ and he held out his book.

But Sirius snorted. ‘I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.’

I won't discuss The Prank here, many have written about it. In general, Sirius doesn't show empathy in everyday interactions even with Remus. Sirius has a heart of gold, but his shell, especially as a teenager – tough, harsh, sharp, and cutting. The grown-up Sirius interacts with close people much more politely, though he still occasionally shows his harshness (for example, with Hermione).

‘This’ll liven you up, Padfoot,’ said James quietly. ‘Look who it is ...’

Sirius’s head turned. He became very still, like a dog that has scented a rabbit.

‘Excellent,’ he said softly. ‘Snivellus.’

I don't want to justify Sirius and James, but for context – Snape is fascinated by the Dark Arts, hangs out with future Death Eaters (= fascist), and they have mutual dislike from the first year. No, the act is immature, but James justifies it in his head exactly like this – Snape is bad for him, so anything goes, and anyway, "so what?" Sirius doesn't need justifications. He's just bored.

Even when James uses all the spells on Snape, he still glances at the lake:

Snape lay panting on the ground. James and Sirius advanced on him, wands raised, James glancing over his shoulder at the girls at the water’s edge as he went. Wormtail was on his feet now, watching hungrily, edging around Lupin to get a clearer view.

Why look at the girls by the lake when you're humiliating someone, if you know you're doing something really bad? James genuinely sees himself as a noble knight, deserving of admiration. Moreover, many do admire him (''Students all around had turned to watch. Some of them had got to their feet and were edging nearer. Some looked apprehensive, others entertained. Several people watching laughed''), and Lupin mentioned several times that James was popular at school.

‘How’d the exam go, Snivelly?’ said James.

‘I was watching him, his nose was touching the parchment,’ said Sirius viciously. ‘There’ll be great grease marks all over it, they won’t be able to read a word.’

Again, Sirius harshly targets Snape's personal traits, including his appearance.

‘You – wait,’ he panted, staring up at James with an expression of purest loathing, ‘you – wait!’

‘Wait for what?’ said Sirius coolly. ‘What’re you going to do, Snivelly, wipe your nose on us?’

And again – Sirius strikes with words.

Snape let out a stream of mixed swear words and hexes, but with his wand ten feet away nothing happened.

‘Wash out your mouth,’ said James coldly. ‘Scourgify!’

And James responds with a spell to what? Snape's insults. He says ‘Wash out your mouth.’ He appeals to the moral side of the issue.

‘I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her!’

‘Apologise to Evans!’ James roared at Snape, his wand pointed threateningly at him. ‘I don’t want you to make him apologise,’ Lily shouted, rounding on James. ‘You’re as bad as he is.’ ‘What?’ yelped James. ‘I’d NEVER call you a – you-know-what!’

This also proves that James is sure he's doing everything right. James is like a volunteer in the allies' army against the fascists, a brave Gryffindor, and his sword is to cast spells on anyone he deems not fitting his moral standards.

‘Messing up your hair because you think it looks cool to look like you’ve just got off your broomstick, showing off with that stupid Snitch, walking down corridors and hexing anyone who annoys you just because you can – I’m surprised your broomstick can get off the ground with that fat head on it. You make me SICK.’

And from the outside, it looked like this.

‘What is it with her?’ said James, trying and failing to look as though this was a throwaway question of no real importance to him.

‘Reading between the lines, I’d say she thinks you’re a bit conceited, mate,’ said Sirius.

And Sirius understands it all too well. Who he is, who James is, and what Lily thinks about it all. Sirius knows about James's crush on Lily and finds it even funny that she rejects him. Likely because Sirius understands that they often cross the line. I don’t think Sirius could have stopped Potter. I don't even think Sirius wanted to stop Potter. He found it all funny. Azkaban, on the other hand, softened Sirius in his interactions with others. It knocked down his pride and arrogance. Showed him that life can be unfair and you don't need to act like a haughty jerk who thinks the world revolves around them.

At school, Sirius was more about psychological bullying, while James was about the physical. Given that James and Sirius were very popular at school and within their house, their bullying was likely directed mostly at Slytherins or at arrogant jerks like themselves who they just "didn't like."

And the adult Sirius understands that they were “arrogant little berks.” And he’s “not proud of it,” but his next words speak for themselves:

“ I think James was everything Snape wanted to be – he was popular, he was good at Quidditch – good at pretty much everything. And Snape was just this little oddball who was up to his eyes in the Dark Arts, and James – whatever else he may have appeared to you, Harry – always hated the Dark Arts.”

Sirius justifies James while simultaneously praising him. Justifications always imply a partial denial of guilt. Someone fully aware of their guilt doesn’t seek to justify or be justified. Of course, Sirius said this for Harry's sake too. To ensure Harry didn’t think his father was just a bully for no reason. His father was actually “on the side of good,” is what Sirius wants to convey. About himself, he remains silent. But he doesn't miss the chance to insult Snape again “little oddball.”

Even Remus, as an adult, sincerely justifies James.

‘She started going out with him in seventh year,’ said Lupin.

‘Once James had deflated his head a bit,’ said Sirius. ‘And stopped hexing people just for the fun of it,’ said Lupin.

‘Even Snape?’ said Harry. ‘Well,’ said Lupin slowly, ‘Snape was a special case. I mean, he never lost an opportunity to curse James so you couldn’t really expect James to take that lying down, could you?’

‘And my mum was OK with that?’

‘She didn’t know too much about it, to tell you the truth,’ said Sirius. ‘I mean, James didn’t take Snape on dates with her and jinx him in front of her, did he?’

Lupin finds a genuine justification for James. The concept of “violence in any form is bad” isn’t fully grasped by them. They follow an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Lupin even was ready to kill Peter, and he insisted that war is not a playground and that killing is sometimes necessary in war. Remus, though gentler and kinder, and preferring not to engage in conflict, genuinely wished Sirius and James hadn't bullied anyone at school, but yet, he still reconciles with all they do and even justifies James.

In Sirius's mind, James may have acted like a fool, but Sirius doesn’t genuinely condemn it. He just thinks they were too arrogant. And Sirius’s behavior after Azkaban (how he became gentler with others) indicates he truly realized – you don't need to belittle everyone you dislike or even like. Yet, Sirius’s harshness, even after Azkaban, didn’t disappear; it was just redirected towards what he genuinely hates.

‘Professor Snape was at school with us. He fought very hard against my appointment to the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. He has been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not to be trusted. He has his reasons ... you see, Sirius here played a trick on him which nearly killed him, a trick which involved me –’

Black made a derisive noise.

‘It served him right,’ he sneered. ‘Sneaking around, trying to find out what we were up to ... hoping he could get us expelled ...’

Remus's reactions are much softer, but Sirius’s reaction, even years later, is harsh and even a bit cruel. ‘It served him right.’ Because it's an eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.

However, Sirius’s harshness still occasionally breaks through even towards his close ones when he slightly loses control over himself after Azkaban.

‘You’re less like your father than I thought,’ he said finally, a definite coolness in his voice. ‘The risk would’ve been what made it fun for James.’

‘Well, I’d better get going, I can hear Kreacher coming down the stairs,’ said Sirius, but Harry was sure he was lying. ‘I’ll write to tell you a time I can make it back into the fire, then, shall I? If you can stand to risk it?’

Sirius calls themselves “arrogant little berks,” but the peculiarity of Sirius’s arrogance is that it's due to his personal qualities, not external “glamour”.

‘I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were stronger and more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I’ll never understand why I didn’t see you were the spy from the start. You always liked big friends who’d look after you, didn’t you?’

He despises Peter for groveling, for weakness, for the same reasons he despises Regulus, considering him a soft idiot. Sirius’s arrogance was never built on finances or blood purity, on popularity, on playing Quidditch, not on his name, although the family dynamics undoubtedly influenced his pride. But overall, his arrogance is of a different level – that of a rebellious spirit, a very strong person, not like the Malfoys. Lucius Malfoy is intentionally depicted as the complete opposite of Sirius Black (in character – the most rebellious of their pure-blood circle and the most sycophantic, and in appearance – black and white).

Sirius and Kreacher's story demonstrates that Sirius does not forgive those he hated and can carry hatred through the years. People usually soften over time, but Sirius has an excuse – Azkaban. Nonetheless, the behavioral pattern remains unchanged. Azkaban does not change the essence of people, it makes certain traits more vivid and pronounced. Sirius became calmer towards the people around him who help fight against evil, he toned down his arrogance and pride (even towards Snape, he no longer hurls insults first, it’s Snape who insults Sirius first), but Sirius became even harsher towards those he hates.

‘Sirius was horrible to Kreacher, Harry, and it’s no good looking like that, you know it’s true. I’ve said all along that wizards would pay for how they treat house-elves. Well, Voldemort did ... and so did Sirius.’

Harry had no retort. As he watched Kreacher sobbing on the floor, he remembered what Dumbledore had said to him, mere hours after Sirius’s death: I do not think Sirius ever saw Kreacher as a being with feelings as acute as a human’s ...

And he himself demonstrates this repeatedly:

At which Sirius, ignoring Hermione’s protests, seized Kreacher by the back of his loincloth and threw him bodily from the room.

Dumbledore believes Sirius showed cruelty to Kreacher through his indifference and neglect. That is, Sirius could shut off his empathy towards a being, despite generally being friendly towards house-elves.

‘He (Sirius) regarded him (Kreacher) as a servant unworthy of much interest or notice. Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike… Sirius was not a cruel man, he was kind to house-elves in general. He had no love for Kreacher, because Kreacher was a living reminder of the home Sirius had hated.’

Sirius was not evil. But the neglect emanating from him was very cruel, harsh, and cold. Sirius can shut away all the good within him towards anyone he despised – “And whatever Kreacher’s faults, it must be admitted that Sirius did nothing to make Kreacher’s lot easier –”

‘– comes back from Azkaban ordering Kreacher around, oh, my poor mistress, what would she say if she saw the house now, scum living in it, her treasures thrown out, she swore he was no son of hers and he’s back, they say he’s a murderer too –’

‘Keep muttering and I will be a murderer!’ said Sirius irritably as he slammed the door shut on the elf.

However, Sirius likely never killed anyone, even while serving in the "Order."

Regarding his family and even Regulus, Sirius is also harsh. Even if he, like any child, deep down loved his family, it doesn’t matter because his real words and actions are very harsh and aimed at severing ties. The possible love for them deep down only further highlights his harshness and readiness for confrontation.

“I hated the whole lot of them: my parents, with their pure-blood mania, convinced that to be a Black made you practically royal ... my idiot brother, soft enough to believe them”

Likely, he’s ashamed of them, and his hatred also builds a wall between them and himself.

‘Does it matter if she’s my cousin?’ snapped Sirius. ‘As far as I’m concerned, they’re not my family. She’s certainly not my family. I haven’t seen her since I was your age, unless you count a glimpse of her coming into Azkaban. D’you think I’m proud of having a relative like her?’

And at the same time Dumbledore about James:

‘I knew your father very well, both at Hogwarts and later, Harry,’ he said gently. ‘He would have saved Pettigrew too, I am sure of it.’

I don’t know how true this is (though likely, the author speaks through Dumbledore here), but considering that Harry himself is a character whose main traits include the ability to understand and forgive others, perhaps James had this to some extent too. But Sirius lacks the ability to forgive, and this is deliberately shown in the book – that he suffered precisely because of his excessive harshness.

In conclusion, Sirius's harshness and toughness is not just teenage arrogance; it's directly a trait of his personality, something that cannot be overlooked when talking about the canonical Sirius, not his sugar-coated substitute in fandom. Sirius had to grow up very early, and all this left its mark on him.

Of all the Marauders, only Sirius is really harsh and can be truly dangerous.

But Sirius was not cruel in a moral-ethical sense, or more precisely – ideologically. There's no reason to believe Sirius is constantly drawn to the dark side or that he's amoral. His constant fight against his family suggests instead that he formed high ideals within himself. No, Sirius is not amoral; he has difficulty with empathy (especially in childhood), a tendency towards aggression and cruelty (mostly in childhood, he controls himself quite well as an adult. Well, for Sirius Black quite well), arrogance, but he very well understands what is right and what is wrong.

‘She’s got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man’s like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals.’

#sirius black #james potter #the marauders #the marauders meta #sirius black meta #hp meta

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pretty-little-mind33 · 8 months

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James Potter x ex!fem!reader

Summary: James was and would never be yours.

Genre: Blurb (kinda short), angsty, (no happy ending - I'm sorry…)

Warnings: swearing, no happy, just sad, implied infidelity? James was an asshole and he is stupid <3

"You aren't allowed to be jealous!" You tear the necklace from your neck, the chain snapping, and forcefully hand it to him, "You did this to us. I fucking hate you."

Those were the last words you said to him when you'd broken up with him in your last year of school. When you'd returned (and broken) the promise necklace he'd gifted you.

You'd meant them too. You hated him. You hated him because of how much you loved him and because he'd broken your heart worse than any other boy ever would. Still, even when years had passed, you could remember the day James Potter lost you so clearly in your mind.

You could remember him so clearly.

"James?" You whisper, your arms full of the books you want to buy.

The man at the counter looks up. His messy dark hair falls over his forehead and when he sees you his eyes widen. James is up on his feet instantly, "Y/n!" He looks you over quickly, his cheeks blushed just as pretty as they always were in school, "Y-you cut your hair!"

With a small smile, you place the books onto the counter and subconsciously run a hand in your hair, "Yeah well, it has been a while since you've last seen me. How've you been?"

James looks around the bookstore. It's just you and him. You take the time he's not looking to look at him more closely. He hasn't changed much but he's clearly not a boy anymore.

"I've been okay. This is Remus's bookstore actually. He just stepped out a moment I'm surprised you didn't see him on your way in. I can help you with these, if you want?" You smile and push the books out to him.

When your pinkies accidentally touch, you pull your hand away. You look at his hand and the band around his finger, "Oh, you're married." You say. James blushes and looks up. He looks like he's about to speak but you interrupt him and show him your hand, "So am I."

James's expression is so familiarly unreadable, "Oh. That's nice," There is a tenseness in his voice, "So, do you have any children?"

"Not yet, you?"

"One. A son. Harry." James pauses and you can see him debate with himself a moment, "He's at home with Lily."

Your expression falls and you look at him. You want to believe he's joking but he clearly isn't. "You're married to Lily?" You croak out as all the feelings you'd once felt concerning him and Lily bubble up. She was the reason you'd broken up with him. She was the one you weren't supposed to worry about.

They hadn't been dating when you'd last heard about them, but now they're married? And with a kid?

James looks into your eyes and, while he nods, he wants to tell you sometimes (most times) he still wishes it was you. Only, he doesn't and instead smiles while you pay for your books in silence. He forces himself not to ask who your husband is. He really doesn't want to know.

You look at him and your chest tightens. You mumble a small goodbye and make your way to the door. Your hand barely reaches the handle before you turn around again,

"You know, when we were young, I always imagined it would be us. Married with a kid." You say in a whisper, smiling faintly, "Life is funny like that, huh?"

James doesn't know how to answer you so he watches you leave, just like he'd done four years earlier.

You're all he thinks of when he comes home that evening. Your smile is all he can think of when he kisses Lily's cheek and presses a kiss to baby Harry's forehead. And, when he lays awake at night, his wife's head resting on his chest, all he sees is you and it finally sinks in how foolish he's been.

Only, what can he do now? All he can do is stare at the ceiling in a house that doesn't even feel like his own anymore, and think of the necklace he still keeps in the back pocket of his favorite pants, hidden in the very last drawer of his armoire. James had fixed it years ago, he just never had the chance to return it to you.

Now, he never will.

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ellecdc · 15 days

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(not a request, just some thoughts to ponder! godspeed regarding exams dear elle <3)

Thinking about ploy!marauders x reader who get together after Harry's been born? I would think that Remus and Sirius would have been together since school. But reader's always been stuck pining after her loves who were all already in relationships.

But once James and Lily separate the dynamic shifts and I can totally picture Sirius throwing it out there that they should all give being together a good go. James and Lily are still good friends, happily co-parenting.

Just stuck on the idea of what you think the reader and marauders role in raising Harry would be? would they be auntie and uncles? or function more like step-parents? And when James has Harry for the week how would that change their routine? Curious to hear your thoughts!

Lots of love :)

okay okay okay okay I don't have a fic for this but I have another request that I think needs this background for the head canon's I've been obsessed with based off of this suggestion (with @unstablereader's help)

so this isn't a fic but this is an inside look on how a lot of my fics are formulated 🤣😭

okay so I always hate the idea of Lily and James separating 😭 so either it was super amicable OR maybe Harry was the result of a drunken hook up between the two friends?? (before Jamie was with the other Marauders)

either way, I totally think the other's would have a parental/step-parent role. Like if the boys weren't called papa (Sirius) or da (Remus) etc, he'd certainly be like "at my house with my daddy and my moony and my pads!" and Pandora (I love me some good Pandalily) would be 'ma' and Lily was mummy.

So where @unstablereader and I went wild was maybe reader was our whimsical reader? And when Harry was quite young (toddler) and Siri & Jamie were aurors (so would be at work) and in a Voldemort free au we figured maybe Rem would start teaching earlier? That reader would watch Harry for them when it was Jamie's week with their son

And the boys were all obviously in love with her but none of them did anything about it yet. So we imagined this happening during one of Lily & James' exchanges or parent dates:

Lily: so, Y/N's been around a lot lately, yeah? James: oh yeah she's amazing; I mean, three of us and still our household would probably crash and burn if not for her Lily: *knowing smirk*, hm, so when are you guys going to make it official? James: I beg your pardon? Lily: please, Potter. I see the way you blokes look at her James: no no, it's not like that... *not convincing at all* Lily: James. Do you know what Harry calls her? James:........ Lily: he calls her "lovie". in fact, he calls her "his lovie". He thinks that's her name, James. James:...... Lily: he said, and I quote, "I was at home with my daddy, and my papa, and my da, and my lovie!" James:...... Lily: listen here; I have eyes, potter. and if she's as lovely as you're saying she is, you three better snatch her up before panda and I do.

then we imagined that maybe Sirius and Rem were close by

Sirius: *barges in out of no where* NO RED PLEASE YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO US Remus: Sorry guys, I tried to tell him to leave you guys to it. But now that we're here: Lils, please have mercy. The three of us can compete with you and Pandora??? Lily: you guys have a week and then fair's fair.

so a week later when Lily comes by to pick Harry up and reader is there

Lily: *sultry* hello darling y/n: Hello Lily! You know, if you'd asked first I would've said yes Lily: well if they don't treat you right, you know where to find us *James & Sirius come racing over* James: lovie, step away from the door right now Sirius: no more talking to Evans unsupervised *Remus walks in with Harry on his hip* Harry [speaking toddlerese]: mummy! is my wuvie going to wive at bof of Harry's houses? Lily: I'm not sure Has; what does your lovie think? Sirius: *panicked squawking* I SAID YOU CAN'T HAVE HER RED *throws reader over shoulder and disappears further into the house*

the end :)

#ask elle #marauders era #marauders au #reader insert #self insert #sirius black #remus lupin #james potter #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you

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goldustwomun · 1 month

Text

pacifier (s.b.)

pairing: sirius black x younger potter! reader

summary: something about your relationship with sirius black had never sit quite right with you, and now that he's back after two years of travelling the world, you're beginning to think that you'll soon find out what'll happens if the two of you finally fall over the edge of whatever precipice you've been teetering close to all these years. plus, you've got to work with him all summer, so what's the worst that could happen?

warnings: allusions to sex (minors dni!!!), swearing, cocky sirius and like kind of an annoying younger sister reader (but also that's literally me lol), bad transitions between light hearted banter and angst but i'm trying my best RIP, i imagine sirius to be mid-20s and reader only 3/4 years younger (but everyone is OF AGE), mommy issues if you squint

wc: 5.4k+

note: soooo i'm back :D again :D i'm almost done with second year and actually somewhat ahead with all my papers (with very minimal finals; def recommend being a history major x) and i've just been missing the community so enjoy this! i had this first chapter posted a while back (like maybe a year) but it was actually ass so i've redone it a little :)))) as always, reblogs and comments are MUCH appreciated and i can't wait to interact w/ y'all over this because i have been DAYDREAMING about brother's bf sirius :')

“What do you mean he’s working at the shop as well?!” you screeched, chasing your Mother around the kitchen, feeling a lot like the pesky youngest child you were.

“He needs some help so we offered to give him a job. Honestly sweetheart, aren’t you too old for this childish feud?”

“Too old? Shouldn’t you be saying that to him? He’s like– thirty or something, and still continues to be the bane of my existence. Fucking Bla–”

Your Mother whirled on you abruptly, brandishing the wooden spoon she was about to stir the boiling pot with right in your face. “Language, missy! I would tell him the same thing, but unluckily for you, you’re my daughter and currently living under my roof, so you get to hear it first.” She gave you a saccharine sweet smile, the kind that had you biting back the urge to stomp your feet and pout at her until she gave in. Unfortunately for you, that hadn’t worked since you were about six years old.

“--now, he’s been gone for such a long time, and we’re all very excited to see him, so don’t ruin this reunion with any more of your tantrums.”

You opened your mouth, intent on not letting the argument die there, but your Father bounded into the kitchen at the same moment, ruffling up your hair with a “Hey there, kiddo,” before promptly moving on to snake his hands around your Mother’s waist. “Looking as beautiful as always, my dear,” he cooed into her ear. She let out an uncharacteristic giggle that had you bolting from the kitchen before you were scarred any further.

Your parents’ tooth-aching affections for each other were just that: sweet, but sickly all the same. Deep down, you knew you yearned for a romance like theirs, something genuine but passionate, able to withstand the test of time (and your ever-dwindling patience). James, your older brother, had found it with Lily, their son Harry being a product of their young but no less intense love.

And you loved that kid like he was your own. Would beg James to let you come over, play with the babbling toddler for a few hours, would even offer up your weekends, encouraging the young couple to “go out, live a little!”. But they were about as infatuated with their own child as you were, and had a never-ending supply of friends who were equally as eager to help out.

Speaking of, one of those eager friends was currently pounding his stupid fist against your stupid front door, and you were already riled up from the news that you couldn’t take seeing his face physically in front of you, as well.

You shoved past James, knocking him back a step as his hand reached for the door to let his best mate in. You caught a glimpse of him on the doorstep, the first in almost two years– hair unruly like he’d just rolled out of bed, long, black strands; newly tanned skin blushing under the heat of the sun; those thick, brooding eyebrows that raised up in your direction – eughh.

“What’s got your knickers in a bunch?” James called at your retreating figure, shouting loud enough to be heard over your heavy footsteps despite the carpeted floor.

“Ask your best mate over there!” you answered back with a bite, slamming your room door shut.

“Fuck,” he sighed, defeated, yanking his confused friend in and a chucking a thumb towards the stairs. “How’ve you managed to piss her off before you even got here?” he asked incredulously. “Peace– we had peace in this house for the past two years since you’ve been off travelling, and now look–! It’s a bloody riot!”

“Oi– I’ve done nothing,” he moaned indignantly, hanging his coat and scarf on the gold-crested hooks by the door. “--I think,” he added for good measure after a beat.

He never understood why the two of you struggled to get along. You’d grown up together, spent every waking moment in each other’s presence when he was at the Potter residence (which happened to be just about always given his own family situation). In theory, he should be like some sort of older brother figure– someone to loan out advice and shoulders to cry on and all that jazz.

But no. Something about you and your irritatingly know-it-all personality, or shrill voice when indignant (which was rather often around him), or your need to always be right – something about you made it so he just had to tease you endlessly until you were yelling, voice all pitchy, nostrils flared, breath heavy and face blotchy. When things would begin to die down, he’d find something else to point out, argue back, hit the nail on your specific head– something to really push you that little bit over the edge.

It was a little too fun to not try to get a rise out of you every time you were together. And as much as Sirius was aware that the jabs each of you threw had gotten a little more out of hand and a little less appropriate for your relationship– he just couldn’t stop.

The rest of the Potter family didn’t share your sentiments about Sirius, and rather adored him immeasurably. Had since he’d taken to hiding out in their house after a particularly brutal fight at home when he was only eleven. Heck, he’d even attended every Potter-family gathering, dinner, birthday, you name it, since then. It was why he came over every Sunday for a roast, pudding and some chat – he could never put into words what your family had done for him, the safety, security, home, even, they'd given him when he’d been lost and entirely clueless of what a real family looked like.

So he made the thirty-minute drive, every Sunday, much to your irritation. He plastered on the biggest smile for your Mum, complimenting every minute detail of the meal she cooked for the family, drank a glass of whiskey and smoked a cigar with your Dad; he was even Harry’s favourite, always humming quiet melodies into the youngest Potter’s ear.

With him travelling the world for the past almost-two-years, he’d missed out on the family time he usually looked forward to every weekend. Mondays seemed a lot less dreadful after having a belly-full of Mrs Potter’s food. Still, he’d sent postcards and printed pictures of everywhere he went, the sights he’d seen, people he’d met. It wasn’t the same, not without the lot of you to pester him (maybe you especially) but he’d needed some time to find himself.

He still wasn’t sure if he’d found what he was looking for, but the money had to have run out eventually so he was back home, ready to work and settle down in his life for once after graduating Hogwarts.

Sirius followed James into the living room where he found Lily, sipping on a glass of red, sitting by the empty fireplace. Instead, a window had been cracked in to let the temperate wind in.

She perked up as they entered, waving with that soul-wrenching smile of hers that could persuade even the most strong-willed of men into submission.

“Pads, you’re back!” she called from her seat. "And you've grown a moustache-- interesting choice of facial hair." Sirius, however, raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, ignoring her greeting-slash-judgement as he peered into the empty crib by her side, even going as far as to search under it as if the toddler might have escaped.

“Harry’s gone to bed in the guest room. There was a bit of a shouting match before you arrived,” James explained, sinking into the space beside his wife and pulling her into his side. “Actually, now that I think about it, there was a lot of shouting after you arrived as well!”

Lily snorted, snuggling into her husband without hesitation, and Sirius couldn’t help but avert his eyes, feeling entirely like he was imposing on an intimate moment as the two of them whispered in the other’s ear.

“Well, don’t mind me. Sitting here, all by my lonesome, no company or polite chatter to partake in, not even my dashing god son to entertain me” he sighed, dramatically, to no one in particular. James rolled his eyes at his best friend’s antics, chucking a frilly throw-pillow at his face (that’s what they’re for, right?) which he just as easily caught.

“Har-Har! Ever the clown, Paddy,” James mocked, flipping him off just in time for his Mum to walk in and see.

“James! Don’t aim such crude displays at my son,” she scolded, wrapping her wrinkled arms around Sirius’ shoulders from behind his chair. She leaned down, kissing the top of his head affectionately. Sirius only whimpered in agreement, leaning into her motherly touch and whining on and on about how James was being a right bully.

“My sweet child, I’ve missed you!” She beamed down at him, and that longing Sirius sometimes felt for his own Mother’s approval, her devotion or fondness, it lessened.

“But you didn’t– He was just!-- You missed– arghh!” James groaned defeatedly, head flailed back to rest against the sofa, receiving no sympathies from his giggling wife and glaring Mother. “I’m starting to understand why she hates you.”

Sirius’ eyes flashed at that– did you really hate him? Had it gotten to that point?

At the mention of your name but current absence, Mrs Potter ordered, “Go call your sister for dinner, I’ve set the table.”

He began to protest, failing to come up with a half-decent reason why he can’t walk up the two flights of stairs and pull your petulant frame from your bed– but Sirius interrupted in time, before James could make any more of a fool himself in front of his own Mother. “I’ll go get her. Got to figure out what I did this time,” he offered coolly.

Euphemia, that is, Mrs Potter, had a strict no-apparting rule in her house, had lost too many expensive vases from James and Sirius’ apparition-sprees the second they’d turned seventeen. You already had your licence, having been of legal age for some time, and had, since graduating (top of the class, as you tended to point out, much to your Ravenclaw friends’ dismay) from Hogwarts, found a job at a school in the muggle world, teaching children English Literature in preparation of some exam. O Levels, you’d called them.

Sirius thought it to be some sort of torture device - these O Levels – but you’d smacked him across the head in admonishment with the book in your hand – you were always carrying one, though he designated them to be a weapon, at least when in your possession – before he could say much else. Having a family-run bookshop made it so that the books, or the weapons, really, were in endless supply for you, much to Sirius’ chagrin.

Your love for reading had come from him, your Father, from when he’d stay up till the late hours of the night, hushed whispers under your bed sheet so your Mother wouldn’t hear, as he read you the Classics in animated voices that had you completely enchanted. He made sparks fly from the tip of his wand, bright colours that your little eyes couldn’t quite get enough of.

You loved being a wizard, were eternally grateful for the world you lived in and the undeniable awe of it all. But words, books, literature – they were enough magic for you, took you to places you could only ever dream to visit, and had you feeling such all-consuming emotions that sometimes, you wondered if you’d ever make it to the end of the page, or chapter, or book.

“Oi– your Mum’s put out dinner, she’s calling you downstairs,” he called through the thick wood of your door.

Sirius didn’t know why he was nervous. It was you, the little girl he’d watched grow up and had grown up with. But if the short glance he’d gotten of your stomping person as you huffed up the stairs was any indicated, you were by no means little anymore.

Funny what a few years can do to a person, huh.

He nudged it open when you didn’t respond, only to find you slumped across your bed, glaring, silently, at the ceiling and the pale-orange light emanating from the lamp on your bedside table.

You certainly looked different– older, possibly? He couldn’t quite place what had changed, only that he knew something had. In the way you dressed, styled your hair, held yourself. Even the look of your room– no longer plastered in butterflies and pink roses, but instead painted a burnt umber and with tapestries and muggle band posters hanging across every wall. A stack of vinyls were shoved into one side of your room, along with piles and piles of books, some old and missing a few pages, while others were untouched.

You heard the door click open, sitting up on your elbows to see a smirking Sirius, oozing an annoying amount of confidence, and leaning against your doorframe.

Something in your chest stumbled almost immediately. He looked the same, behaved the same as well. Still the Sirius that had left to see the world, leaving the rest of you behind. Though, he might’ve managed to actually tan, now that you really looked at him, imagining the broad planes of his shoulders, hidden by a thin linen button up, were more sun-kissed than milky-pale now.

Except you refused to even entertain the thought. You were not thinking of him or his skin or his bare chest or--

“What’s with the face?” you asked, already knowing you’ll regret the answer.

“Was that meant to be a greeting?” His eyebrow raised in amusement.

“Hi Sirius-- what’s with the face?” you answered, again, between clenched teeth.

“Nice pair of panties you got on there, bright pink, are they?” he nodded at your thighs, only just clocking that maybe having your legs spread so far apart when you’re wearing a skirt wasn’t the best idea.

Your thighs snapped shut just as Sirius was snickering behind his fist. “So, dinner?” he asked again, stepping into your room and letting the door shut behind him.

“Go to hell.”

“See, that sounds a little inconvenient, and a lot hot– humidity isn’t great for the hair, or skin. Anyway, I’ve just been around the world and found no place called Hell so not sure what to say, little Potter.” You hadn’t missed his sarcastic rambles, even though you were already struggling to hide the smile taking over your face as you looked anywhere but at him. “I tried, I really did, just for you.”

Your stomach dipped at that, a wave pulling you under-- for you.

“Buuuut– you know what I absolutely adore? Your mother’s cooking, and I haven’t had it in a while, so up ya’ get,” he insisted, tugging you up by your forearms until you were pressed against his front, not a sliver of space between the two of you.

Your breath caught in your throat. You could feel him everywhere. Hot skin against your bare arms, the itchy wool of his jumper, if you concentrated a little more, the hard expanse of his chest against yours. He must have felt it too because he released you like you were fire and he a mere mortal, brows pinching in confusion and something else, looking at you like you were a question he couldn’t quite find the answer to.

It was entirely foreign, the heat gathering in the pit of your stomach– it surely hadn’t been there before he’d left. You looked, or gawked, more like, at the very man you detested with every ounce of your being, but also the very man you were about to spend almost every hour of every day, for the rest of the Summer, with.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath, as if realising the same thing as you now that you were stood in front of him. Suddenly, he understood what the whole shouting match must have been about, and up until a few moments ago, he might have disagreed with you entirely.

Now, though? He wasn’t sure what he felt.

“Ditto,” you breathed back. You pushed past him after staring for a second too long, hurrying on socked feet to the dining room downstairs, and not bothering to check if he was following.

The quiet jingle of the bell tickled your ears as you opened the door to the bookshop, dust immediately invading your senses as you fought back a harsh cough. Your Dad pushed in front of you, forcing the door to stay open by propping a stack of intimidatingly large books in front of it. You laughed silently to yourself, noting how they were all Dickens (he hated Dickens, said his novels were disturbingly boring and unnecessarily detailed).

You could only agree, never having had the courage to pick up any of those enormous beasts yourself.

“So, you can dust a little, and sweep the floor, before we open. Count the money in the till, as well, that’s very important,” he noted off, and you suddenly wish you had a pen and a pad of paper to write it all down. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been helping out at the shop since when you were younger, but this was the first time you’d been granted the responsibility of having it all to yourself (minus the inconvenience that was Sirius Black).

You were an adult now (barely, but that was a technicality)– loved to point it out any chance you got, and it meant that your Dad trusted you enough to not hover over your shoulder every time you took a shift. He was working fewer hours, though now, none, as he wanted to finish the novel he’d been writing for the past decade after melodramatically announcing at the dinner table that “It’s time!”

You weren’t sure what that exactly meant, but you weren’t about to argue with the man paying you an overly generous ten pounds an hour.

You didn’t need the money for yourself, what with still living at your parent’s house, but you wanted to contribute to the house and expenses and what no, even if it was a minuscule sum.

“Another thing,” he added, stopping, rather abruptly, in front of you, voice worryingly grave as he placed his large palms over either of your shoulders. “Please,” he begged, brows dipping, “don’t fight with Sirius in front of the customers.”

“I haven’t even done anything and you’re already after me,” you objected, pulling back from his usually comforting hold and pulling the broom out from behind the counter. His hands fell defeatedly against his sides as he sighed, standing in your way before you could mope yourself into a tizzy before the work day had even started.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he ensured, pulling you in for a tight embrace. “You know you’re my number one, sweetheart. Just don’t like seeing you so upset.”

James always teased you for being your Father’s favourite, and you’d never argue, relishing in his pointed fingers and sneering words, because it was true– there was something between you and your Father, an understanding that no one else had clued in on. He eased your worries like no one else could, smoothed irked creases across your face, replacing them with belly-hurting laughter lines and a grin so wide, you were worried it would fall off your face.

Anyway, James was the same with your Mum. You found her difficult to communicate with, what with her being as hot-heated as you were, so as much as you and your Dad got along, you butted heads with your Mum just as much. “It’s ‘cause you two are so similar, like twins, I tell you!” But it did little to calm your nerves around her, or stoke the flames of anger you so often felt.

You were about to respond, ready to tell your Dad just how much you loved him, when someone crashed through the door, slamming into the counter you were standing behind. You turned, eyes connecting with your (late) colleague. He looked utterly windswept, as if he’d run – or been chased – the whole way there.

“You okay, son?” your Dad asked, worry shifting from you to the panting, bent-over Sirius.

“Me? Oh– peachy, just– peachy,” he answered between heavy breaths, waving off his doting hands. “Sorry I’m late, got a little carried away with something and lost track of time.”

You were conscious of how your Dad didn’t offer Sirius the same advice, to not pick a fight or argue or whatever it was the two of you did, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at how he had everyone charmed. So you busied yourself behind the till, doing as you were instructed and counting the money, writing down the number of each of the bills on a notepad you pulled from the drawer at your waist.

Your Dad left soon after, turning the closed sign out front to open as he wished you, and Sirius, good luck.

“Guess it’s just the two of us, little Potter,” Sirius pointed out, already sounding bored as he fell into a stool at your side. He leaned his head against his arm, stretching it from side to side as he groaned at his tense muscles.

You didn’t mean to stare, swore it wasn’t something you’d let become a habit, but your gaze immediately travelled to the exposed skin of his neck, zeroing in on the trail of newly-formed purple bruises down the side. You snorted, shaking your head at him, slamming the money compartment shut a little too aggressively so that it caught Sirius’ attention. He recognised your expression to be something close to amusement, jabbing you in your side until you were scowling and slapping his fingers away.

“What’s wrong with you– you’re acting like a fucking child,” you admonished, moving out of reach and resting a hand on your hip.

“Why’d you make that face?” he asked instead of answering your question, nodding at you like it was you who had started it.

“It’s nothing,” you went with, hearing your Father’s words echoing in your mind from just moments ago. You needed to diffuse the situation before you really got mad, because past that point, you weren’t responsible for what you said– or did.

So you ventured into the aisles of books, a curious Sirius on your heels, following you like a lost, yapping puppy. “If it’s nothing then why are you running away?” he pushed back.

You ignored him pointedly, stopping to stack a few books and dust along the shelves. No one had come in yet, still too early in the morning for any tourists to stumble upon your admittedly quaint but bursting shop.

The sunlight barely filtered past the dense collection of books and mahogany shelves that lined the walls, but the windows stretched to the tall ceilings, and if you went up the spiralling staircase at the centre of the store, you’d find yourself in a cosy loft space, bathed in gold and stuffed with arm chairs and sofas for people to sit and read in.

It was your favourite part of the store, and you were seriously debating hiding up there on your first day, just to get away from the walking-plague that followed you.

“Come on– tell me,” he whined, standing too close for your liking. You side-stepped away, brushing a cloth against the worn covers of the Mystery section. He followed suit, returning to his previous position, and this time, you had no way out with the wall of books you’d met.

You turned, facing him and finally acknowledged his presence. “You lied,” you stated matter-of-factly, loving that you actually had the upper-hand with him. As much as you prided yourself with being quick-witted, Sirius always seemed to find a way to stay on-top.

“Gonna have to give me something more than that, darling. Lied about what?” he countered, raising an eyebrow at you.

It took everything in you to ignore the pet name, something more endearing hidden under it that you had never noticed before, and those pesky butterflies returned to bug about in your gut.

Fucking moths, you groaned internally.

“You said you were busy and lost track of time. But those bites across your neck say otherwise,” you stared pointedly at the affected area now, though it was covered by his hair in this position. His hand flew to his neck, as if only just realising they were on display.

“That’s none of your business Potter,” he countered, now irritated and still trying to hide the hickies on his neck with only his palm.

“It actually is my business when you’re both late to your job and lying to my Father,” you threw back, shoving forward and relishing in his slight stumble back– as if he hadn’t yet noticed the two of you were so so close.

“You can’t–” his eyes were wide, worried, as he grabbed your elbow, forcing you to meet his gaze, “You can’t tell him. He’ll be so disappointed and I can’t–”

Now it was your turn to frown over the devastation so wrought over his face. And if you two were anyone else, you might’ve let it go. Might’ve–

“Well tough shit, Black. You’re an adult, now. This is the real world we’re talking about. Not whatever fantasy you’ve been away in for the past two years. And here, in the real world–” you gestured around yourself, “--actions have consequences. You slutting it up on the night before your first day at your new job isn’t much of an excuse, now is it?”

And really, you deserved it, now that you thought back. His anger was reasonable and your need to poke straight through his ribcage, wrap your fist around his heart and squeeze tight, was not.

“Oh, fuck you, Potter!” he bit out. “You’re accusing me of not acting like an adult when you literally still live at home! Not to mention you can’t have a decent conversation with anyone without throwing the most childish temper tantrum known to man. I might be slutting it up, as you’ve put it, but at least I’m getting some,” he was breathing hard now, and the more he spoke the more the anger burned away, but his words wouldn’t stop. In fact, you think you could see him cringe, in pain or guilt or some nervous tick, as he delivered the final blow.

“Maybe if you weren’t so miserable to be around all the time, someone might actually give it to you too.”

It didn’t take long for you to react. Nor did it take long for your hand to fly up and connect with his cheek, hard and final. He wasn’t even surprised, had seen it coming a mile way, maybe even from his first “fuck you”. Because he knew he deserved it and he remembered now why he had left two years ago. Sure, it wasn’t all you. There’d been others who had irked him to the point of wanting a fresh start. And even then, it wasn’t that you were one of those people– you just would get him so riled up, to the point where he could no longer trust the words coming out of his mouth.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered then, fighting the urge to look away from your glassy stare. “I’m sorry, Potter. You know I don’t mean it.”

And deep down inside, you did know. You knew you both brought out the worst in each other. Only, you could never figure out why that was. Why you wanted to hurl insults and slap him silly for every comment or look or stupid way he’d string together the most perfect sentence and his irritating eyes and mouth and–

“Excuse me? Is anyone here?”

You inhaled, all sudden, as if only just realising what you had done (or what you had thought). You brushed past him without a word, needing, more than ever, to put some space between the two of you. If not for your anger then for whatever pesky emotion was seeping through your cracks.

You were (reluctantly) pulled from wherever your thoughts had been racing to as you called into the store, “Just one moment!”

You didn’t see it, not then – too focused on keeping one foot in front of the other as you made your way back, escaping to the front of the shop, faking a polite smile as you greeted the awaiting customer– but Sirius collapsed, defeated, into the wall the moment you walked away.

Something was telling him that if he hadn’t just torn your heart to shreds with a string of insults then he might have done it some other way– some other way that might have left him in trouble with James, Lily and your parents for an entirely different set of reasons.

‘Cause Jesus Christ– he wanted to be the one to give you what you needed. Or rather, he needed to, desperately. And two years away hadn’t altered the line between the two of you from enemies to something more.

And Sirius truly debated if this was the moment for him to get back onto a train to anywhere you were not. It didn’t matter if he had no money or nowhere to be, but if it meant he could avoid killing you with words or kissing your face off– he couldn’t quite see a way out of his predicament.

James would kill him. As would your parents. And Lily– God, you prayed Lily never found out. She’d serve his head up on a platter and laugh while she did it. She was awfully protective of you, always on your side when you bickered with him. If anything, you loved her even more for it, having always noticed how you frowned a little deeper, detached a little more from yourself, whenever your parents favoured him in an argument.

“Sirius!” you shouted again, no longer faking your emotions but rather genuinely just exasperated by him once more.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” He managed to not get lost in the labyrinth of books, and found you by the travel section, chatting good-naturedly with a blonde in a tight dress.

“How can I help, doll?” he asked the blonde in question. His one tactic for almost every conundrum he’d ended up in was avoidance. And bloody hell was he good at it.

He smiled at her, the customer, doing little to hide his admiration for the legs she had on display. She flushed a pretty pink, averting her gaze, lip between her teeth. Bingo!

“Christ, you’re disgusting,” you muttered, mouth pouting and quiet enough that only he could hear.

“Only for you, sweetheart, only for you,” he bit back, not wanting the currently oblivious customer clue in on their conversation. “So, how can I help?”

“She needs that book–” you pointed to the top shelf, well out of reach. “--the green spine that says Amsterdam, but I can’t reach it and the step ladder is too heavy.”

“Alas! Only ever needed for my body, it seems,” he moaned with an irritating amount of flourish.

“Whatever it takes to get the book down– do what you must, Black.” You patted his chest reassuringly, taking your spot, once again, behind the cash register.

“So– planning a trip are you?” Sirius asked in between excessive displays of strength as he hauled the bulky ladder with a single hand. You glared at the girl as she swooned at him, wanting, rather unreasonably, for her to combust right where she stood.

But that was a ridiculous thought to begin with. You could barely stand to be even within a metre’s distance of the guy, let alone on the receiving end of his affections. You were tired, emotional and dehydrated. Must be. Though a glance at the clock had you realising it had barely been an hour since your day had started.

So, maybe just emotional and dehydrated.

“I’m going to get a coffee from across the street,” you announced, slugging your tote bag onto your shoulder as you walked past the preoccupied pair. Not waiting for a response, you stepped out into the early morning sun, frowning, for once, at the glare in your eyes and not the irritant you’d left behind.

It was easier to refer to him as something pesky, infectious, fungus-like even, rather than the only person who knew how to break your heart (and despite your somewhat impenetrable facade, you let him do just that every time).

please please PLEASE reblog & leave some feedback <3 i'll boop you if you do x

#sirius black #sirius black x reader #sirius black x f!reader #sirius black fanfiction #marauders #the marauders #marauders fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #hp fanfic #sirius black angst #sirius black smut #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n

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freedomfireflies · 8 months

Text

The Angel and the Fae

Summary: The one where Harry is an angel that falls in love with a garden fairy.

And even the heavens can't keep you apart.

Word Count: 3.2k

Harry thinks you’re the most beautiful creature he’s ever seen.

He decides this the moment he sees you. Resolves instantaneously upon a fleeting glance that you – with your long hair that flows beneath the crown of white lilies atop your head – will be the reason he falls from heaven.

He watches you from the edge of Aspen Hollow. Never once stepping foot past the sacred edge that surrounds the ethereal garden where you preside. Not even a feather from his wings is permitted to dance into such holy ground.

A fawn has crawled its way into your lap. Entrusting you with its care and safety as its eyes fall shut and it blissfully settles into your delicate and soothing embrace.

You’re speaking to it. Softly. Comfortingly. Trailing your finger from its nose down to its spine.

“There, little one,” you’re cooing. Hushed yet reverent. “Sleep now.”

Harry considers himself lucky to be able to hear the way your heart beats beneath your chest. Steady. Rhythmic. Calm. You’re happy. Content and filled with tranquility.

He detects the exact moment you sense him. Catches the hitch in your breath and the jump of your pulse.

He readies himself to explain – to assuage you. He expects your fear, your resentment. Expects you to cast him out. Forbid him from returning.

Instead, you seem…curious. Hesitant but inquisitive, and when your head turns, his lungs just about cave in.

And in that moment, when your eyes find his, his purpose changes. His entire reason for existence is plucked from one instrument and played on another. A tune so beautiful, so melodious…it makes his heart sing.

You’re watching him much like he was watching you. But you don’t move from your spot on the grass, instead keeping the fawn safely tucked away in your lap.

You blink, and Harry swears he can feel the flutter of it against his cheek.

“Hello,” you call quietly, your gentle voice carrying across the few hundred yards from where you reside.

You must know he’ll be able to hear you, and Harry straightens up dutifully, his wings following suit. Expanding some as if to display a sense of chivalry.

“Hello,” he calls back, equally as soft.

You seem to study him for a moment, and Harry swears this is the longest he’s ever gone without breathing.

“You aren’t supposed to be here,” you tell him, and he nods once.

“I know,” he admits. “I suppose I just…found it hard to tear myself away.”

You glance down at the sleeping doe on your lap, and he feels his insides twist now that your eyes aren’t on him.

“I apologize if I’ve disturbed you,” he adds, hoping to encourage your attention back.

You hum faintly and brush your palm down the baby deer’s back. “You have not.”

This makes Harry’s mouth curl up into a giddy smile. “Then would you mind if I stay? Only for a moment? I feel quite at peace here.”

You regard him carefully. Inquiringly. “I would imagine an angel is quite often at peace.”

He considers this. “Peace is a privilege,” he finally replies gently. “And it is one that is often lost on me.”

This seems to surprise you, your lips parting delicately as Harry’s pulse begins to thump in his ears. “Then you may stay as long as you’d like.”

His grin doubles in size as he nods his appreciation. “Thank you.”

However, when he remains planted near the tall oak tree that sits beside the edge of the garden, you glance back over.

“Angel,” you call, and Harry’s entire chest caves in. “You’ll disturb me more if you hover like that.”

He hesitates, looking over the soft but hallowed grass only inches away. “Angels aren’t allowed inside The Garden.”

“Not unless invited,” you correct, and he straightens up. “And I am inviting you in.”

Still, Harry can’t make his feet move, despite the way his wings are desperate to carry him to you. Centuries worth of warnings and guidelines are attempting to remind him of his place, of his duty and his loyalty to the heavens. But that does nothing to dampen his urge to go forth and take.

“Angel,” you repeat with a glimmer in your eye. “Come.”

And that’s all it takes for his foot to instantly cross over into sacred ground.

The moment his wings pass through the invisible barrier, a forceful wind ripples across the garden. Echoing between the trees and the grass as the billowing of air sweeps from flower to flower. All the way to the other side.

You feel your eyes widen as you watch him approach. He’s hesitant but intrigued. And perhaps you know better than to invite him in, but your heart aches to provide the handsome figure a moment of serenity.

He studies every petal and vine as he walks through, wonderstruck by the enchanted orchard. He smiles brightly when a blue jay swoops down beside him, the small bird fluttering around his head a time or two before disappearing back into the branches.

And the angel laughs. A sound that resembles the moment a wave breaks against the shore. Loud and lively before it settles and softens.

“This is beautiful,” he says, and you nod.

“It represents serenity. A moment of calm before the next stage of life.”

You both look to the small creature in your lap, and the angel’s expression changes. “Are you saying hello…or goodbye?”

You smile gently, trailing your fingers down the sleeping fawn’s spine. “We are saying hello.”

Those clear, green eyes seem to sparkle at you as he grins. “Hello,” he repeats.

You nod again. “She’ll be sent down soon. The moment the sunlight disappears behind the mountains.”

The angel is intrigued, crouching down a few feet away as he studies the way you trail your palm over the soft coat. “Is it hard to let them go?”

“No,” you answer easily, smiling some. “They are meant to live. To flourish. To exist outside of this realm and give back to the earth what it has given to them.”

The garden falls quiet. You feel him watching you while you watch the creature in your lap. He seems to be wrestling against another question and you chuckle to yourself as the fawn awakes.

“Off you go,” you whisper quietly, helping the wobbling baby doe from your lap before it’s bounding toward the grass and disappearing out of sight.

Left alone with the quiet angel, you both stand and turn to each other. Now provided with a better glimpse of his large frame and sizable wings.

He straightens up under your inquisitive stare, feathers fluttering as the wind passes between you. “I appreciate you allowing me in,” he says tentatively. “I don’t mean to break your rules.”

“They are not my rules,” you correct, waving his apology away. “I believe that anyone who needs a moment of stillness should be given one.”

This seems to charm him. “And I believe you are the first and only fairy to think so.”

You grin. “Perhaps. But I’ve never understood the divide between angels and fairies. Both are providers of comfort and refuge. It seems silly to be at odds with each other.”

He hums, and you wonder if you’ve offended him. “I agree,” he says, and you feel your muscles unwind. “But the heavens have a different belief.”

“They believe that just because fairies were created by a different hand, we are not to be trusted," you snort beneath a quiet breath. "That we are all tricksters and supernatural entities unworthy of eternal salvation.”

“Are you?” His tone is playful, and you feel your smile return tenfold.

“I am a garden fairy,” you reply. “I tend to the trees and the animals. I don’t have time for tricks.”

His look of amusement seems to mirror your own.

“And you?” you ask next, gesturing toward him. “An angel without peace is like a heart without rhythm. Why do you come here when you know better?”

He takes a moment to consider his answer. “Truthfully, I don’t know,” he finally responds. “There was a pulling. On my soul. My wings. They led me here and I wasn’t quite sure why.”

“Well, have you found the peace you were looking for?”

His eyes meet yours. “I have.”

Another unspoken moment dances between you as your attention drifts toward the very plumage he displays so proudly.

You’ve seen angel wings before but never this close. Never when they were near enough to touch. Truth be told, you weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance, and you imagine the quiet angel can hear your heart racing.

But he’s smiling at the way you stare. Seemingly amused by your fascination and wide eyes as you watch the cream-colored feathers flutter against the wind.

“They’re…beautiful,” you admit softly, attention following the curves and dips of each row expanding from his back. “Are they heavy?”

“Not normally, no,” he tells you. “Only in times of great sorrow.”

Confused, you raise a curious brow.

His grin grows. “Each feather symbolizes that of someone I’ve watched over. And when they move on, a piece of their soul stays with me. It lives and it breathes, and it is.”

He steps closer and you feel your breath catch, awestruck by the way the large pennons begin to curl around his frame.

“When their soul is happy, the wings feel weightless,” he continues, a far-off look in his expression. “And when they’re sad, when they cry…my wings cry for them.”

There’s a pleasant sort of ache in your chest. “You’re a guardian angel.”

“I am.” His arm outstretches for you, palm to the sky as he silently requests your hand. “Here.”

Hesitantly but with great keenness, you oblige his instruction, sliding your fingers along his skin.

The moment the contact is made, you both seem to jolt. Magnetized by the feel of his flesh against your own. A stark contrast that’s somehow hauntingly familiar. Soothing in a sense. Destined.

He brings you closer, guiding the tips of your fingers to his wings. Ghosting them across the soft feathers as you suck in a quiet breath and feel the entire weight of the world on his back.

He holds you for only a moment before allowing you to travel the expanse of his wingspan on your own. Delicate strokes along the rows of quills that seem to bask in your touch.

“How do they feel?” he asks quietly, almost as if not to startle you.

Your lips roll into your mouth as you search for the right words. Or any word that could even begin to come close to describing such an ethereal sensation.

“Magical,” you finally say, and he smiles.

“Certainly no more magical than a fairy.”

Smirking to yourself, you lower toward the grass, and extend your hand. Your fingers dance above the blades momentarily before you make a quick snap of your wrist.

Instantly, a flower springs forth from the dirt. Sprouting up out of the soil in full bloom as the angel’s eyes widen.

You pluck it from its roots and straighten back up before offering him the small, dainty lily stem. He steps forward, allowing you to guide the flower behind his ear and tuck it between soft, chestnut curls.

“How do I look?” he asks.

You laugh. “Magical.”

He holds your giddy stare for a second longer before he murmurs, “You’re quite beautiful.”

A bit stunned, you smile, and wave the compliment away. “You must be standing too close.”

With a cheeky hum, the angel suddenly steps back, his wings now fluttering about the air until his feet lift from the ground.

Then, his feathers carry him a few hundred yards away before he lowers back down, studies you, and calls, “Nope. Still beautiful.”

Despite yourself, you laugh again. “You’re quite forward for an angel.”

“And you’re quite timid for a fae,” he retorts, returning to you as a rustle of wind sweeps through your hair. “I was expecting a bit more fearlessness.”

“I’m only fearless when I choose to be,” you tell him. “But I just met you. Why should I share all my secrets when I don’t even know your name?”

The handsome angel considers this before nodding and stepping up to you. “Harry,” he says quietly, as if the answer is reserved only for you. “They call me Harry.”

A stunning name for a stunning man, and you feel your pulse jump while it makes a home in your mind. “Harry,” you repeat, making him grin. “That’s quite pretty.”

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip. “And what do they call you?”

You lift one shoulder in a gentle shrug. “I suppose I don’t really have a name. Or at least I don’t have anybody to use it if I do.”

His eyes soften while he glances over the crown of delicate white flowers woven between the locks of your hair. “Then I will call you my Lily,” he decides, and there’s a new sort of blossoming in your chest. “If I may.”

You struggle against such merriment. “You may.”

“Good.” He seems equally as enchanted, and for the first time in almost a hundred years, you feel mesmerized by an angel. Then, his chin motions just behind you. “The sun is beginning to set.”

Turning, you find that it is, and your heart soars as you eagerly reach over and take his hand to drag him toward the middle of the garden.

It’s an action made without much forethought, the need to feel his skin against yours almost like instinct now.

For a moment, you both hesitate. Unsure of the presumptuous act until Harry squeezes your palm, and silently encourages you to lead him where you’d like to go.

You take him toward the middle of the meadow, just beside the calm stream of water.

There, you find the baby fawn. Standing curiously on the other side, waiting to bid you goodbye.

You and the angel come to a stop on the edge of the grass just as the sun is filtering between the trees. Casting a golden hue across the orchard and setting the secluded hollow aglow.

And just as the stars are beginning to take their place in the sky, the sweet doe meets your eye, and lifts its head.

You smile. “Goodbye, little one.”

Its left ear flicks before it turns on its heel, and leaps over the hill. Disappearing from sight as it’s carried into another realm.

Leaving The Garden behind.

Harry seems to hold his breath from beside you as he looks down. “And will it be okay?”

You lace your fingers with his and nod. “It will.”

Silence settles between the trees, between your hearts. It’s comfortable and it’s still and the faint sound of rustling leaves calms your racing pulse.

You look over and allow your attention to trail across his face. Taking note of each line, each edge, each crinkle. The shape of his lips, the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw. The dimples in his cheeks and the dark hairs of his eyebrows.

He’s quite handsome. Alluring, in a sense, yet oddly safe. You imagine this was by design. To help those he protects, and comforts feel more at ease in his presence.

And while you’re looking at him, you notice he’s looking at you, too. Just as intently, with nothing but admiration. He studies the faint, golden sparkles that litter your skin. The way they glimmer beneath each drop of moonlight, a common feature amongst fairies.

You imagine this isn’t the first time he’s seen a fae’s enchanted flesh. But he indulges in the sight of you, nonetheless. Indulges in your magic.

Then, he steps forward, and you feel the air shift.

“May I confess something?” he whispers, and you sense his slight hesitation.

“Of course.”

With a deep inhale, he tentatively reaches out his hand and ghosts the tips of his fingers along your cheek. “…I feel an overwhelming urge to kiss you.”

Your lashes flutter while the insides of your stomach twist and turn into impervious knots. “Oh?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Mhm. And I know that breaks…every rule in existence.”

“And then some,” you breathe, struggling against the desire to push yourself into his palm.

You wonder if this is part of the ruse. If perhaps you feel so enamored by him because that’s what a guardian angel does. It encourages you to feel more susceptible. Maybe this pull to him is nothing more than magic.

Still, it pulls you, nonetheless.

“I want to kiss you, Lily,” he murmurs, moving closer until the front of his chest just brushes against your own. “And I’m afraid I don’t quite know what to do now.”

And you know the admonitions. Know the rules, the history between angels and fairies. You know that his very presence in this garden is inviting trouble into paradise, and yet…you have no yearning to tell him to go.

Because you don’t want him to go. You don’t want him to take his hand from your cheek. You don’t want him to leave this sacred orchard at all, and even though every fiber of your being, every nerve-ending, and every cell in your body is desperately attempting to warn you…you push into his touch, anyway.

“I think…you should kiss me,” you finally say, grasping onto his wrist.

This answer surprises you both. Neither one of you understand it or have the knowledge to comprehend the repercussions.

All you know is right here, right now. His hand on your face, his lips much too close, and his aura. His effortless ability to make you feel like you’ve just come home.

His thumb follows the outline of your cheekbone. “Are you sure?”

You squeeze his arm a bit tighter and nod once. “I don’t see why not. What’s the worst that could happen?”

He grins – a wide, toothy grin – and you decide that it might be the most beautiful thing in this whole garden. “What a fearless way of looking at it.”

With that, he kisses you. Presses his lips to yours and takes each strained breath from your lungs.

It’s hesitant and it’s unsure and it’s perfect. A moment in time meant just for the two of you, here beneath the large willow tree and the pale light of the moon.

Eventually, he pulls back, but he keeps himself close. His mouth moving to your cheek while your eyes fall shut.

And you drink him in. His scent, his skin. Memorizing each inch of the angel in your arms as you ask yourself what you did to deserve such wonder.

“I’m afraid I have to go,” he says. But it’s heavy, the way he speaks. “If I don’t return soon, they’ll come looking.”

You nod your understanding and swallow the lump in your throat. “Go,” you whisper. “You have souls to protect.”

This makes him chuckle before a wounded look of remorse settles on his expression, the palm of his hand slipping around the back of your neck.

He dips down to rest his forehead against yours, almost as though looking for balance. Stability amidst a sea of uncertainty, and you’re more than happy to offer it to him.

“My Lily,” he exhales, and the sound of your name on his tongue sends a shiver down your spine. “I am so glad my wings brought me to you.”

Smiling, you nuzzle the tip of your nose against his.

“May they bring you back again.”

The next parts will be all the angst and turmoil and fluff and smut, I swear, I just had to do the background first HAHAHA WE ARE THROWING ALL THE TROPES INTO ONE POT AND COOKIN' BABY!

Amazing credit for the beautiful dividers to @firefly-graphics 💞

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Taglist: @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses @swiftmendeshoran @tiredinwinter @straightontilmornin @justlemmeadoreyou @harrysdaydreams @tiaamberxx @peterparker1sgf @myfavfanficsever @littlenatilda @vamprry @fdl305 @tchalametishot @ssaama @indierockgirrl @likeapplejuicenpeach @vane28282 @lukesaprince

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entitled-fangirl · 1 month

Text

The astronomy professor.

Severus Snape x Lupin!reader (past James Potter x reader)

Summary: it's Harry's third year, and the reader is beyond excited that her brother is becoming the boy's professor. When the two siblings goof off together before one of their classes, the reader realizes just how much she's grown attached to Snape.

Warnings: Death, grief, guilt, fighting, talks of threatening behavior, etc.

Author's note: I'm planning on working on the next piece of "His betrothed" soon! Also... maybe a Remus Lupin x reader???

Masterlist

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Severus scowled at the other end of the professors table in the Great Hall, while next to him, Y/N smiled brightly.

They had both had quite different viewpoints of the newest DADA professor.

Remus Lupin.

Being a Lupin herself, she was beyond excited that her older brother was coming to teach.

And he was quite excited to be there as well.

The two were close during their time at Hogwarts. She was often seen flitting around the Marauders like a pesky gnat.

None of them ever thought of her as pesky though.

She was Remus' younger sister, and therefore, their own younger sister.

And throughout their time in school, she had developed a large crush on James Potter.

The only person who ever knew about it was Remus.

And while it absolutely killed her, she was happy when James and Lily started dating.

Then were engaged.

Then married.

Then had Harry.

That was just the kind of person Y/N was. Though it destroyed her, she couldn't help still feeling joyful for him.

Imagine her pain the day he died.

That's how she got to this point now.

So close to Severus Snape.

Because they both bonded together over one thing:

That James and Lily Potter could've had very different lives if they hadn't ended up with each other.

…

Remus approached Y/N after the dinner, grabbing her elbow gently from behind. She turned away from her conversation with Minerva to look at him, "Oh, Remus. What's wrong?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing. It's just… can I talk to you?"

Minerva intervenes, "Go on, you two. We'll finish this conversation later, Professor Lupin." She pauses, "Well, I guess now you're both Professor Lupin. Hmm."

She walks off.

Y/N turns around to him. "There's something wrong with you. Don't lie. We've been siblings for far too long to make you think you can lie to me."

He sighs and pulls her arm, dragging her out of the Great Hall.

Severus, with his ever watchful gaze, notices the urgency in which Remus drags her away.

He didn't miss the tall werewolf at all.

…

"He's just so tall, isn't he?" Remus asked joyfully.

She smiles, "Oh, yes. And Harry is so smart. That, or he's quite good at copying off of Ms. Granger. You'll figure it out when you get there."

"He looks just like James." Remus said with distant look in his eyes.

Y/N smiled at the thought, "Yes. But, he looks like Lily, too. Imagine if he had her red hair. He'd fit in with the Weasleys just fine!"

The two siblings laughed loudly in the middle of the deserted corridor.

It was if they were students again.

She looked back at him, "I really have missed you, Rem."

He sighed, "I'm sorry for my actions after… you know."

"Remus, I don't blame you for reacting to all of it the way you did-"

"-you really can, though. You should."

She stepped back, shaking her head, "No. I don't care what happened in the past."

"You're my sister and I pushed you away," he reminded her. "All because I was too weak."

She scoffed, "You're not weak. You've never been weak. Remus, don't-"

"-NO!" He pushed, "I pushed you away after he died because. every. single. time I looked at you after that, I saw him."

Her mouth opened slightly as she registered his words. She moved to speak, but couldn't trust her own voice.

He took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Look. I'm sorry. That's nothing of your concern, and I don't know why I bothered you with it."

"You… you really saw him in me?" She asked.

"I still do."

"What's going on down here?" Severus's voice boomed down the hall as he approached the two.

Remus resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Y/N turned to look at him, "Just catching up. It's been far too long."

"And still not long enough," Severus said.

"Severus," she scolded.

Remus chuckled lightly, "Nice to see you, too, Snivelus."

"Remus," she scolded towards him now.

The two completely ignored her as they glared at each other.

She sighed, "Let's just pretend we all get along? Please."

Severus grumbled under her breath, but agreed.

Remus considered her question carefully, and finally nodded.

…

Now, Y/N sat on Severus's desk as he carefully brewed a potion on one of his standing desks.

"Are you happy to be here with your brother again?" He asked as small talk.

She nodded, "Yes. I missed his laugh most dreadfully."

He nodded, throwing another ingredient into the cauldron.

She grabbed a stack of papers on his desk, looking at each one carefully.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"These are second-year essays, yes?"

"Yes."

She nodded, moving now to sit at his desk. She grabbed his quill and ink. "I'll grade these for you while we talk."

He quickly moved towards the desk, "No. I will grade them another time. Don't do my work for me. You do enough."

She looked up at him with a puzzled brow, "Why? You're busy with your potion. I thought it only fair…"

He stepped back in thought, "It would be a nuisance to you. You won't enjoy the content."

She laughed, "No one enjoys reading or writing essays about anything magical. Everyone would rather just see or do it."

"But that's how they learn." He counter argued.

She shook her head, "No, that's how you teach."

He tilts his head, "And what do you do for Astronomy, darling?"

She smiles, "They draw what they see. The constellations. Then sometimes, I make them come up with new names for each one. When they get older, they get to write stories for them. Come up with their own backstory for how it got in the sky."

He nodded, "But each constellation has its own story already."

"They do. And I tell them those. If people in history can choose what to believe about them, why can't my students? And trust me when I say I haven't had a single student fail the exam for it in four years."

Severus stirred the potion as he listened, "I just don't see how it's helpful, is all."

She shrugs, "As long as they learn, who cares?"

He smiles just barely, "I'll never understand how your little mind works."

She missed the way he almost ruined the potion due to his interest in their conversation.

…

"So, what's in your lesson plans for today, Professor Lupin?" Y/N asked excitedly.

"Well," Remus said, "Today, I figured the third years would get to face a boggart."

She gasped, "You got your hands on a boggart?"

He nodded, "Hagrid helped me, of course."

"How much longer until your class?"

He looked down at his watch, "Hmm, 40 minutes, I'd say."

She smirked, "Still think our fears are what they always were?"

He tilted his head back and forth, "I'd say so. I mean, we're older but… we're still who we used to be. It's worth a try." He smirked.

She practically skipped with excitement toward the bureau in his classroom. "Merlin, you're already better than the last DADA professor, Rem."

He furrowed his brow, "How so?"

"Well," she recalled, "I heard from a Weasley that he opened the cage of 15 Cornish pixies into the second year class. Caused a major disruption. And then… his personality, of course."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know about others, but, he would not let me alone. He asked me out almost every other day. It was so tiring. But then, one day, he just… quit bothering me."

Remus pondered her words, "What would make him quit?"

She shook her head, "I don't really know, Rem."

He huffed, "Well, I gotta know now. Think, dear sister."

Y/N looked up in thought, "It was after Christmas break. But… before the Chamber was opened. It doesn't matter, honestly. I much rather be goofing off before your class starts. C'mon."

Remus smiles and stands in front of the bureau with his wand, "Alright."

She opens the door slowly.

The boggart immediately shifts into the full moon.

Y/N sighs at the sight.

He was still scared of who he was when the full moon appeared.

"I suppose nothing has changed," he stated.

She nods.

She walks in front of her brother to face the boggart next.

It takes its time to shift, making her rethink her decision to do this.

It shifted to something much different.

Severus Snape's dead body.

Her face dropped quickly at the sight and her eyes widened.

She knew it wasn't real. She knew it wasn't real.

Why does it look so fucking real?

Remus looks over her shoulder with a gasp.

And neither of them move for a minute.

Finally, her voice breaks through the silence, "Rem?"

He nods, "Yeah. Yeah. I… I got it."

Remus steps in front of her, waving his wand and whisking the creature back into the bureau.

The door shuts and locks, but the siblings remain just as quiet.

As if spooked, Y/N bolts out of the classroom door.

She runs as quickly as her legs can carry her, almost running into sleepy students multiple times.

She throws the door open.

The door to Severus's classroom.

He stands up from his desk slightly startled by her sudden intrusion.

Her entire body relaxes as she sees him.

"Is everything alright?" He asked suspiciously.

She shakes her head, looking down at her feet in embarrassment.

Severus nods, walking up to her slowly. "I have twenty minutes before class. Why don't you come sit?"

When she doesn't move at all, he reaches forward and gently grabs her bicep.

At the contact, she suddenly wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly.

He grunted in surprise, but made no move to get away from her.

In fact, he even wrapped his own arms around her.

"What has got you so worked up?"

She sighs into his chest, "I don't know. Everything just… clicked today."

"It what?"

"It all makes sense."

He leaned back just barely to see her face, "Such as?"

"You told Lockhart to let me alone last year, didn't you?"

He stiffened, "I… may have."

"Thank you."

"Don't. It was nothing."

She nods, pulling away from him, "I'm sorry for all this. I just… had… a moment earlier and… needed to make sure you were alright."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

She shrugs, "It seems that the people I like don't have a great track record of… staying alive, is all."

He tilts his head, "People you 'like'?"

Y/N blushes, "Um. People I enjoy the company of. You know."

"And you enjoy my company?" He asked in a teasing way.

"How could I not?" She finally regains her thoughts, "I should go before your class starts. Granger will be here any minute."

He nods, "Perhaps you may come by later to assist me with grading?"

She smiles, "Only if you let them draw pictures at some point."

Severus sighs, "Alright."

She bits her bottom lip to hold in her laugh. "Alright then. It's a date."

She begins to walk out.

"And Darling?" He asked.

She turned in the doorway to look at him, "Yes?"

"I didn't tell Lockhart to let you alone. I threatened him quite severely."

She tilted her head, "How?"

He shrugged, "Does it matter?"

She shakes her head with a light blush on her cheeks.

Oh, Remus will eat this up.

..............................................................

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obessedwithfictionalmen · 1 month

Note

…. I imagine you have a Billion of these requests and it might not tickle your fancy but I’ve been thinking of a

Post war bucky - meeting navigator reader ( who was transferred to thrope abbots whilst he was in the camps) reader is the warm softness he needs to help rebuild the new him that is worth knowing.. bonus reader being besties with Harry and Rosie

Again no pressure at all! I just don’t own your skill to turn these thoughts into reality! You have such skill miss thang ! I hope you know that 🤍

New Girl

John Egan X Navigator! Reader

Summary: Bucky meets a woman when he comes back from the camps...

Warning: Swearing/ kissing/ mention of death/ use of Y/n/

Word count: 1.3k

The 3 of them were sitting near the fireplace, Rosie just came back, and he survived his plane crashing. She was transferred to Thorpe Abbots a few weeks ago, she was a navigator, that’s how she became friends with Harry Crosby, then, he introduced her to Robert ‘Rosie’ Rosenthal, the 3 of them quickly became friends. Crosby and Rosie kept talking about pilots that got down, especially Major Cleven and Major Egan. Rosie even said that her and Egan would be great together. ‘’You excited to go back home?’’ Rosie asked Crosby as he took a sip of his Coca Cola. ‘’Yeah, I, uh, I’m going to be a father’’ he chuckles, but he doesn’t look happy. ‘’Croz, that’s amazing. It’s good news, right?’’ she asked his friend. ‘’Yeah, but no, I don’t know how to be a father after everything.’’ He signed. Y/n gives him a sympatric smile as she listens the other navigator talk about his feelings.

Chaos was outside, Y/n got outside and saw that Harry and Rosie were running outside, near a plane that just landed. Y/n walked up to her friends and looked at the plane. ‘’What’s going on?’’ she asked, smiling. ‘’Gale Cleven and John Egan are back!’’ Crosby exclaims. ‘’They were the best pilots before me!’’ Rosie said. A brunette men came down a plane, a blonde came to hug him. ‘’Crosby!’’ the brunette exclaimed. The guys hugged as Y/n stand there awkwardly. ‘’ And who’s that beautiful lady?’’ the brunette asked, looking up and down at the woman. ‘’Lieutenant Colonel Y/n Y/l/n, and who are you?’’ she extended her hand for him to shake. ‘’Major John Egan but call me Bucky’’ he shook her hand. He kissed the top of her hand, making her blush.

‘’Y/n/n? Ready to go home?’’ Bucky asked the woman; she was saying goodbye to the children on the base. ‘’Yeah, I’m just saying goodbye.’’ She explains as she hugged Lily, a small girl that Y/n spend a lot of time with. ‘’Here, take my necklace’’ Y/n said as she took her necklace off. Lily took the necklace and put it on. ‘’I have to go now. Bye kids!’’ she waved at them as all the kids hugged her. John Egan looked at the scene, smiling at the woman. He loved the fact that Y/n was good with kids.

She poured herself a glass of water as she staired outside the window. ‘’Whiskey?’’ she heard a voice behind her. She turned to see Bucky, they decided to live together since they grew found of each other. They were friends, but they were in love, they just didn’t know it yet. ‘’Water, I can’t stand the sight of alcohol for a while’’ she chuckled. He laughed and asked for a glass of water too. She sat in front of him, drinking the liquid as they looked at each other. ‘’Buck’s weeding is next week’’ Bucky said as he drank the water. ‘’Yeah, I have to go buy a dress, do you want to come with me?’’ she asked. ‘’Sure, we’ll go tomorrow, I have my suit already.’’ He smiles.

She’d been trying on dresses for an hour, and she didn’t find any that she liked. ‘’I’ll go naked! I swear’’ she breathed out. Bucky chuckled. ‘’I’m able to read map and I helped with D-Day plans, but I can’t find a bloody dress’’ she kept complaining as she put on a dress. When she got out, Bucky’s mouth opened slightly, the dress was light green, long but not too long and had little sleeves. It suited Y/n perfectly. ‘’You look amazing in that one!’’ he compliments her, smiling. ‘’Really?’’ she was skeptical, she never really liked wearing a dress. ‘’Yes, you look wonderful!’’ he says again. Y/n blushes and looks at herself in the mirror, the dress was really beautiful. ‘’Yeah, let’s go with this one’’ she smiles.

The night was still young, Y/n was reading a book when she heard Bucky screaming. She threw her book away and ran to his room. Her night gown flew behind her with how fast she was running. She entered his room to see him seated on his bead, sweaty and breathing really fast. ‘’Bucky, what’s wrong?’’ she asked as she walked closer to his bed. He was in pure state of shock. ‘’Bucky, breath’’ she tried to help but this time, his nightmare was too much for him. She didn’t know what to do, usually her presence worked, and he would calm down. ‘’John’’ she whispered. She took his face between her hands to make him look at her. ‘’Breath, John. I’m right here, everything is going to be fine. Breath’’ she said, maintaining eye contact with him. His eyes were filled with distress, he needed help. ‘’Kiss me, please, Y/n, I need to kiss you.’’ He pleaded, his voice weak. Y/n didn’t even hesitate as she pressed her lips against his.

The kiss was filled with passion and love, it helped Bucky realise that she was there and not dead, like in his nightmare. When they pulled away, he was calmer, and he was smiling. ‘’You’re, okay?’’ Y/n asked, concerned for him. He nodded, smiling even harder. ‘’Who would’ve thought that it would take a nightmare for us to kiss’’ he giggled. She gently smacked his shoulder as she scoffed. ‘’You scared me’’ she breathed out as she smiled too. ‘’I’m sorry, I had a nightmare, you died’’ he explained. She hugged her friend as he smelled her. He was touching her, smelling her and he just kissed her; she was real, and alive. She just realized what happened; she just kissed him. Y/n was in love with him, but she didn’t know if he was feeling the same thing. So, she did what everyone would’ve done; she flew away. As Bucky watched her run away, he giggled, she was a nervous person. But tomorrow was Buck’s wedding, and he was going to dance with her.

She entered the room with Bucky, the reception was over, it was beautiful. Buck’s vows made Y/n cry; it was so beautiful. She was looking for Harry Crosby, she had to talk to him about what happened yesterday. When she spotted him, she practically ran to him. ‘’Croz!’’ she exclaimed as she hugged him. ‘’Y/n how are you?’’ he smiled. ‘’I’m great – ‘’ she noticed a woman holding a baby behind him. ‘’ Y/n, can I introduce you to my wife, Jean and my son Stephen’’ he says proudly. ‘’It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’ve heard a lot of great things’’ Y/n smiles as she hugs Harry’s wife. ‘’Likewise, it’s nice to meet the woman my husband’s been talking about’’ she smiles. Y/n smiles as her and Jean talks. ‘’Can I talk to Harry for a second?’’ she asked. She nods as Y/n and Harry go for a walk.

Harry Crosby was crying for laughing that much. ‘’How could you run away?’’ he laughs. Y/n laughs as she let out a desperate sign. ‘’I panicked, but I really want to kiss him again’’ she breaths out. Rosie, who joined them, was laughing too. ‘’Then kiss him!’’ Rosie exclaims. ‘’Uh, I wish it was that simple’’ she threw her head back. As she did so, she saw Bucky, staring at her with a grin on his face. ‘’It is simple, love’’ he completed her sentence, making Crosby and Rosie laugh as they walk away from the scene, to let them have privacy. Y/n quickly gets up and walk up to him. ‘’I, uh, I’m sorry for running away yesterday. I panicked’’ she blurts out. Bucky smiles as he puts his hand on her lower back. ‘’It’s okay, Y/n, just kiss me again’’ he whispers. She breaths out nervously as she stands on her tippy toes, their face gets closer as their breathing quickens. ‘’I love you’’ she whispers. ‘’I love you too, love’’ he smiles as he leans in closer. Their kiss was passionate, his other hand went on her cheek to keep her closer. ‘’I love you so much’’ she said between kisses. ‘’Fucking finally!’’ they heard Crosby yell. ‘’Well, well, well’’ Buck chuckled. As they pulled away, they saw Buck, Marge, Harry, Rosie and Jean looking at them. Y/n and Bucky looks at each other before laughing. ‘’Are we going to attend another wedding?’’ Marge squeals. ‘’Maybe’’ Bucky smiles.

#callum turner #callum turner x reader #callum turner imagine #master of the air #master of the air imagine #john egan x reader #major john egan #john egan #anthony boyle #harry crosby #rosie rosenthal #gale buck cleven

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soup-of-the-daisies · 10 months

Text

“Harry didn’t name any of his kids after Remus because he’s saving that option for Teddy!”

Wrong. Harry didn’t name any of his kids after Remus because it wasn’t personal enough.

James Sirius is named after his two fathers; Lily Luna is named after his mother and one of his and Ginny’s best friends. Albus Severus is named after two wizards who were incredibly influential for Harry’s development and safety (I have a HC on why on earth Harry decided to name his child after Dumbledore and Snape, but that’s a separate post entirely). None of his and Ginny’s kids are named after Remus, not (just) because they wished to save the name for Teddy, but because of Teddy.

Harry looks his orphaned godson in the eyes one day, a year or two after the Battle, and realises how fucked up it was that Remus, despite technically being able to, never visited him. He can’t imagine leaving Teddy all alone like that, in a family he might know doesn’t look favourably upon magic. There’s a chance that Lily may have told Remus about Petunia and Vernon and their bigotry, their hatred. And Remus, for some reason, didn’t come look.

Harry looks that little boy in the eyes and realises how weird it was that Remus didn’t admit to having been the best of friends with James Potter until late into Harry’s third year. Harry can’t fathom that, if Teddy was Ron and Hermione’s kid and both Ron and Hermione died, he’d be able to talk to the spitting image of Ron with Hermione’s eyes (but starved, intense, broken, thirteen years old and remembering his parents’ murders) and not say, “Your parents were my best friends. Let me tell you about them; let me tell you all that you want to know.”

Harry figures he’d move mountains to keep Teddy safe and happy. Harry figures that Sirius would’ve done the same, considering he mustered up the strength to break out of Azkaban after twelve years and swim to Britain to ensure Harry’s safety at the smallest sign of danger. Sirius lived in a cave and ate rats for Harry with dementors breathing down his back: Harry knows with utmost certainty that, if Sirius had had the freedom to do so, he would’ve burnt the country down for Harry.

Remus didn’t do that for him, wouldn’t have, be it for a lack of freedom or a lack of want. Remus was ‘Lupin’ to Harry even in death, even after being named godfather to his son. Harry had to convince thirty-seven year old Remus to stay with his pregnant wife at seventeen. Harry got blown into a wall for his efforts, was given the honour of becoming godfather months later. Harry liked Remus, still loves him even, but there’s nothing Harry wouldn’t do for Teddy and there was very little Remus did for Harry, and there’s that.

Later, Harry doesn’t even suggest naming a child after Remus. Ginny doesn’t even ask. None of their children are named after Remus, because Harry is a man who is quick to anger when it’s about innocents, a man whose forgiveness only goes so far. He’s never been truly bothered by his own situation, but he’s bothered by the mere idea of Teddy ending up in a similar one and him doing nothing.

Remus did nothing. That’s the crux of it. That’s why.

(After Lily Luna is born, Teddy asks if ‘Luna’ is for his dad. Harry looks at Ginny, and Ginny looks at him, and Harry does what Remus taught him: he swallows his apprehension and lies.

“Yes,” he says, raking his fingers through Teddy’s fluffy, turquoise hair. He thinks he’ll raze cities for this child. “But we saved ‘Remus’ for you.”)

#remus lupin #harry potter #teddy lupin #OP does not dislike remus at all it just needs to be said #what did remus do for harry? not much actually #this is also a headcanon. OP does not see this as truth #it’s my own truth but it doesn’t need to be yours #harry potter headcanon

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whitemancumslut · 1 year

Text

this is nothing. just 2.5K words of me fantasizing about phh/lhh harry as a dad. ignore my delusions— or not, reblog and like:))

imagine!!! the baby is like one when harry has his long hair and lhh being a dad to a little baby girl GOD HEAR ME OUT!!!

i so imagine y/n finding out she’s pregnant at the beginning of phh’s era

“I’m pregnant.”

The words left her mouth quickly. Sick of the anticipation, she sucked in her breath looking up at her boyfriend.

Harry sat there with his fingers intertwined, mouth gone dry from being hung open for too long. His brows are furrowed, his mind trying to translate the words said. “I— Uh—” The only syllables he was able to get out. He cleared his throat vigorously.

“I—I’m—I’m going to be— Are you sure?” His eyes piercing up into hers, stinging with tears. She chuckles, suddenly feeling relief that his reaction seemed a little on the bright side. “Y-yeah,” She pulled out the two ClearBlue test with the clear words Pregnant written across.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat before he’s able to comprehend anything. His mouth is dry, hesitant, he turns the rest towards him to clearly see it.

“I’m going to be a dad?” He breaths out.

Y/n’s eyes lightened after her whole demeanor had been tense due to the anticipation of his reaction. “Yeah, you are,” She let out a breathy laugh as she tried not to cry. Trying to read his expressions— Harry’s lip eventually twitches into a small smile. Disbelief and happiness all in one. “W-we’re going to be parents?”

Y/n pouts towards him coyly, nodding before pulling him in an soft hug. Harry’s slow to respond but he eventually does. Wrapping his arms around her torso tightly, letting the built up tears of happiness drop on to her t-shirt that she most definitely stole from him.

“Are we ready for this?” She whispered in his shoulder.

They were only twenty. Fresh out of their teen years, nervous as hell, but they made it work.

omg don’t even get me started when they find out the gender!!

Harry would lay down on the bed, resting his head on Y/n’s chest softly just like he’d always do before she was pregnant and caress her bump.

“‘Dats my baby girl in there,” Harry whispered in disbelief. Caressing her bump so ever softly.

“Don’t forget about me,” Y/n pouted softly, joking of course. Harry huffed out a soft chuckle, pressing a passionate kiss to his girlfriend’s cheek. “How could I? I love you, always, my love.” He reminded her kindly of his love her before resuming to the view of her glowing stomach. Treating her like the queen she deserves to be treated like, he was always so soft and gentle when he spoke and touched her.

Y/n’s fingers tangled in his tight curls that went all the way down to his shoulders and caressed his scalp softly. Getting his attention by calling him with a small “Baby.”

“Yes,” He answered lowly like he was going to awake the baby.

too cute too cute too cute

“Not trying to push you or anything. But inside that head of yours were there any names that came to you? Or not yet?” Y/n couldn’t imagine that he didn’t think of any names yet.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath before turning to Y/n and saying, “Yes, plenty, but i feel like the perfect one won’t come until she does, you know what I mean,” He said. “I need to see her first, you know,” He looked back down at her belly then at her.

“Well it’s nice to have ideas. Can I hear what you got?”

“Really? Are you sure?”

ima explode

“Throw em at me,” She smirked.

“My first thought was, Rosie.” He said simply, looking up at Y/n, hesitance in his voice. A large smile grew on her face at the sweet soft name. “Go on,” She urged.

He smiled lightly. “Lily, Maeve, Lucy, Ellie, Hailey— like e y or l e e,” Every name out in a blink of an eye. Y/n couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle as he continued naming names like he had a list engraved in his brain.

god i so believe that he’d lay back next to her and just rant about baby names and go, “well yeah there’s mine. yours?” :(( so baby

I also feel they would hide the whole pregnancy from the press. At least try to. Many fans would be suspicious on why they don’t see Harry and Y/n together as much— many would think they are just not spotted. But really Y/n is trying to hide her growing fetus.

ugh!! imagine how thrilled he’ll be to be a father:((

hes def the type to adress y/n and the baby as two.

“I’ll be right back,” Pecking his girlfriends lips and letting his two hand lay up on her belly. “I love you… both.”

i’m going to cry

♡♥︎♢♦︎♡♥︎♢♦︎♡♥︎ ♢♦︎♡♥︎♢♦︎♡♥︎ ♢♦︎

—One Year Later—

fuck ima scream. imagine lhh about to go on stage and can’t leave the baby alone:(

Lily giggles as her father blew into her soft belly. Kicking her little chubby legs as if it’ll fight him off. The little airs hitting her stomach tickling her. She laughs ridiculously hard at her dad’s actions.

Fifthteen minutes before the concert starts and Harry can’t get enough of the little chubby baby. Her laugh was so contagious, her beautiful smile. Teething, baby. Two teeth at the bottom, two at the top.

Y/n sat next to her baby as Harry cooed to her sweetly. “Argh! You’re just the cutest arent ya’” Harry cooed before pressing his lips against his daughters cheek, giving her a sweet kiss.

Dressed in a simple black long-sleeve shirt, with matching skinny jeans and his favorite boots, Harry swore to himself he was going to get up and go with the boys soon but every time he would kiss Lily and Y/n goodbye and try to go for the door, he swore the baby called, “Da da,” and came back for an extra five minutes.

“Harry you have to go,” Y/n chuckled.

“I know I know. It’s time she naps anyway, huh?”

Y/n nods sweetly at her fiancé before taking her baby in her arms. “You might as well take one with her, lovie.” Hoping his girls gets some much needed-rest while she could. Harry presses a kiss to each of their foreheads before stepping out of the dressing room.

Harry would come back to his dressing room, sweaty, bottom of water half-empty, hair falling out of bun. But all exaggeration leaves his body when he spots his two girls passed out on the long sofa of his dressing room.

and then just imagine when they get a chance home. the baby would be about 14 months now. harry has come home from tour, the band hit its hiatus. imagine lhh with a baby at home! ima cry fr

Harry would wake up in his L.A home. His fiancée by his side and his baby fast asleep.

“Da da!”

Harry’s heart beams every-time he hears it come out of her squeaky small voice. So cute, so small, he was going to explode. “Yes baby, Da Da,” Pressing pepper kisses on her nose, as she let’s out a little giggle.

“Okay let’s get you fed, yeah?”

Harry placed the tiny plastic green spoon against his daughters lips. Her favorite flavor ever, Banana.

“Mmh,” She shook her head.

Harry pouted, “No? This is your favorite, darling. At least try it,” He placed the spoon between her sealed pink lips, getting them to slowly pry open.

She begins letting Harry place the banana flavored liquidated mush in to her mouth. He sooner earned a, “Mmhm!” Harry chuckled fondly as she squeaked to the delightful taste of her favorite flavor.

“Mmh!” Harry mocked his daughter playfully, impersonating her reaction to delicious food. “More?”

She scrunched her face up she proud took another spoonful, Harry wiping the dripping banana mush off her chin with her bright colored bib.

nah because that baby is his and he’s gonna do whatever to protect her. that’s his ‘princess.’

“Good morning, princess,” He greets quietly as he steps into the nursery. Loud babbling alarmed him to step into the room, telling him she had awoken.

When he bent over the crib, he was met with her big wide colorful eyes. Babbling to her father, arms stretched, hoping to be held. Her lip quivers scared who wouldn’t get the message, “Da Da,” she’d whimper.

“O-oh my baby!” He’d coo babyishly. Tending to his daughter, Harry would pick up his baby up, setting her on his hip as she clings to his shirtless body. “Don’t cry m’pretty girl. Don’t ye’ cry.”

He bounced her in her arms, giving her soft kisses to her temple.

The fact the baby would probably be a daddy’s girl would be so !!! like when the baby is like 18 months and they’re able to say simple, “mommy,” and “daddy”’s

“Daddy,” Her lip would quiver after watching her Daddy leave the room and Harry would immediately revert his tracks. Harry shirtless with his hair tied up and just into his shorts as he was about to jump into the shower. But immediately making a 360 turn to his fiancée and daughter on the large bed in their bedroom.

“I’m right here baby,” He said walking back to his daughter. Hand out to her, she’d wrap her little hand around his two fingers.

“Daddy's going to shower he’ll be right back,” Y/n promised, holding her. The child tried to move towards the edge of the bed to crawl towards her father but Y/n held her hold.

“I’ll be right back, baby, promise,” Harry pouted.

please i just know he hates leaving her!!

When he’d walk away, again… Her lip would tremble and her eyes would swell with tears, “Da-Daddy,” She called silently.

Harry’s quick to look back her watching him walk to the bedrooms master bathroom.

“Oh baby, come here,” He took her right when the tear finally fell down her cheek. She curled up into his neck as he rubbed down her back sympathetically.

Y/n’s quick to hold her up and let Harry tend to her. As much as Y/n would be jealous of the favoritism Lily has over her for her father she couldn’t blame her— Harry treated her like a little princess.

“How about we take a bath, yeah? Wanna do that?”

Harry let’s her soft hand hold his large finger, he doesn’t get a response but Y/n smiles before saying, “I’ll get it set up.”

harry taking gears when y/n is exhausted.

“Oh hello my gorgeous girls,” Kissing them both on the foreheads softly, Y/n would smile wholeheartedly.

Holding the bottle up to Lily’s mouth Y/n smiled sleepishly at Harry. “Hi,” She spoke quietly. Harry looked her in the eyes and immediately noticed the sleep she was craving.

“Oh my love, I got this. Why don’t you rest for the night? I got ha’” He offered, holding his hand out for the baby.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah you’ve been with her all day, I’ve got her,” Harry answered sweetly taking the baby from Y/n’s arms. He felt all though he was tired she deserved the rest more than he did.

“Well she’s fed, she just wanted to drink outta the cup for a while, I guess. You got this?” She checked.

“Yeah,” He assured her.

“Mmh, you’re the best. Thank you baby.” She pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, before receiving one of for her own. “Always. Goodnight my love.”

“Goodnight.”

Y/n kissed Lily on the head before heading upstairs to bed.

Harry bounced Lily in his arms softly, going to lie down on the sofa.

Humming whatever tune in his head. Whatever it was he couldn’t get it out of his head. Pulling the silly cup away from her mouth as she began to doze off, Harry laid Lily’s body up on his broad chest.

Singing against her forehead ever so lightly. A tune that’s been stuck in his head all day, humming it softly above his daughters head as he stared up at the bare ceiling.

IM GOING TO EXPLODE.

harry’s def the type to give her a little talks when he’s stressed or just out of it.

“I think mumma’s upset with me,” He’ll speak lowly, sitting in the chair in the nursery, holding his daughter straight forward cradled in his arms.

“I’m trying,” He’ll tell her. “I just wish I could be with you guys all the time, you know. I’m trying to— you guys are my number one priority, you know that right? But I don’t want mommy to think the opposite,” He told her truthfully. “Do you think I'm doing a good job?” He asked the question, not getting any response.

“I know mummy thinks I'm doing a bad job.” He speaks sadly, “I know she feels like she’s on her own. But I’m trying I really am—” Lily’s eyes brightened and her small hand grabbing at his face in response.

“I— What? What you grabbing at—” He lent forward to see her mission on his face only for her to grab at his long strands of hair. Opening her mouth wide, Harry’s eyes widen, “No, my love. You cannot chew my hair,” He chuckled, pulling his hair back from her mouth on for her to began swinging around her tiny finger. “I really wish I could be with 24/7,” He sighed. “Soon, though. Just gotta make it up to mumma. She doesn’t deserve to be all alone on this. You could be a handful my little angel,” He teased. Knowing she couldn’t understand most of what he was ranting about was the most comforting thing about this conversation.

“I love you,” He sighed. “I’m trying,” He promised her. Letting her softly tug on his hair, her eyes focused on the hair, and his focused on her large ones. “Do you believe me?” Brushing her hair back softly, Harry brushed his nose against hers, “I’m sorry if I’m not doing well, baby. I’m trying to be their for you guys everyday but you know, the band. But it’s okay, alright? Because the boys— we are planning a little break. I’m hoping during that break I could spend everyday with you and mummy, yeah? Speaking of which, what you think about me doing my own thing? You think Daddy can do it, huh? Without the boys, Daddy can do it by himself, right? I mean it’s only a little break but if I ever wanted to focus on just something like a solo thing… do you think I can do something with it?”

Lily babbled baby noises that made Harry chuckle. A little yawn followed, telling him it was about time he wrapped this midnight talk up. Smiling softly at his daughter, their matching dimples mirroring each other. “I always knew you’ll be my number one supporter,” He chuckled pressing a kiss to her nose. “I love you with my whole heart, lovebug. So much it hurts.”

i def over did. it with the end but i couldn’t help it ugh that’s his baby:(

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