Howlers; H.p.

howlers; h.p.

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader

synopse: everytime harry fucks anything up and gets in trouble, there is a bet: which howler will he be receiving?

warnings: everything’s fine au, howlers, james and sirius being an iconic duo, just fluff

word count: 1.4k

a/n: this idea is from a pin i saw (can’t link it here), so credits to its owner! hope you enjoy it :)

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Harry James Potter's life was no easy task, but in the best way possible.

Voldemort had been defeated on the fateful 31st October of 1981, within the dark sky of halloween night. No one knew exactly what happened; just that he went to the Potter's to kill the youngest of them, and the curse, apparently, backfired. There was also a rumor about a stag and a black dog, but we will not get into detail. All that mattered was that Voldemort was gone. For good.

Most of his followers went to Azkaban, including Peter Pettigrew, for his betrayal and hidden devoted passion to the dark side. There were some rebellions in the following years, but nothing too big, as their leader had fallen. And because there were such good aurors taking care of everything.

So, having James Potter as his father, Sirius Black as his godfather, and Remus Lupin as his, basically, second father and godfather, growing up was eventful, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong; he absolutely loved them with all of his might. He just wished that they made it easier for him sometimes. Like now, for example.

It was a typical wednesday morning. Everyone was in the Great Hall, as breakfast time was still going and there would be no classes for another half an hour.

You were currently almost completely in your boyfriend's lap, eating your cereals and talking happily to Ginny and Hermoine.

Harry, however, was not very happy; in fact, he was dreading every minute of this breakfast.

He had his arms wrapped around your waist, and his head was buried in your shoulder, eyes closed. He was trying his best to ignore his friends' teasing, the glances from people around and, mainly, the big windows.

Why? Because Hedwig would enter the Hall any minute now. Why was he dreading it? Howlers, of course.

He had pranked Snape along with the Weasley twins the previous day. It was pretty good, if you asked Harry. All of the cauldrons had exploded, and confetti was thrown at Snape, as it was his birthday. They just had to do it. One week of detention and McGonagalls lectures were more than worth it. But there was a little detail that Harry always seemed to forget; the howler he would get the day after.

There were just three options:

1, James and Sirius congratulating him and wishing they were there;

2, Lily wanting to beat his arse;

Or 3, everything mixed together and the complete chaos.

So, here he was; trying to hide in you, hoping you would save him. "Harry, love, I swear to Merlin, I loved your prank-"

"Hey!--" Fred and George yelled from somewhere.

"- but what were you expecting? They do this all the time. You better be hoping that my mom won't be in that howler, then it would be embarrassing," you grinned at him. In all honesty, you usually were involved in the mess (growing up with Harry would do that to you) and your mom was a troublemaker along with the Marauders in their years- the only voice of sense being Lily (even though we all know that Lily secretly loved it all). So, this didn't really faze you; it was actually amusing.

You weren't part of this prank because Harry wanted it to be a surprise. And one hell of a surprise it was.

You too got a week worth of detention because you couldn't stop laughing. Ron and Dean got 3 days. The rest of the students got all one night just because.

"Why can't they just be normal people?" Harry's muffled voice asked.

You rolled your eyes, still smiling. "We are talking about our families here, Harry. Nothing less should be expected."

A few moments passed. Everyone was talking with their friends, and the High Table was still full with all of the professor's and staff. The noise in the Great Hall was full of life, and it was strangely comforting.

Suddenly all the chatter died down, and everyone was looking at the windows. Harry immediately seated upright and snapped his head to the windows direction.

The motion almost made you fall, and that made Harry wrap his arms tighter around you, and pull your body flushed against his well-built chest.

A snowy owl majestically flew around the room with two letters in its beak. One of them was bright red.

Harry loudly groaned which got several chuckles from around. He could swear that Hedwig did this every time for attention. Sirius probably bribed her to do it; fly in the most attention-bringer moment. Fucking Padfoot.

The letters fell into your lap, as you were still on Harry. You cackled loudly as you picked the howler up and wiggled it right in front of Harry's face.

Harry pouted and took the letter, sighing. Looking around, he saw every single pair of eyes on them, the silence defining.

Harry closed his eyes tightly in exasperation, taking one last deep breath, and opened the howler.

"HARRY JAMES POTTER, WHAT THE HELL--" Lily's voice bellowed.

"I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU, SON!--"

"James Fleamont,"

"MOONY MOONY MOONY, DID YA HEARD ABOUT THE PRANK?!"

"SIRIUS, NO! WHERE DID YOU CAME FROM, OUT OF MY HOUSE!"

"PADS, THE PRANK ON SNIVELLUS, BRILLIANT! He learned it from me--"

"Actually, if he learned it from someone it was from me. Remember that time, Remus and Sirius were--" your mother's voice echoed through the letter.

"NO! Out of here!" Remus' voice yelled in the background.

"And he got what? One week worth of detention? AMAZING!" Sirius laughed.

"Minnie's getting soft, honestly--"

"Harry, please behave; I love you- James you get back here right this second or I swear to Godric."

"Lily-flower, darling, hey--!" James yelped after a big metallic bang!.

"Goodbye, Harry, " Remus chuckled.

"Don't forget to write to us! And you too Y/N!" your mother excitedly said.

"PADFOOT NO--!"

And the howler ended.

For ten solid seconds, no one said anything.

And then, the chaos started.

Yells and money was being passed around. At this point, it was regular free entertainment for everyone. Harry wanted to at least pretend that he was embarrassed, but really, he couldn't.

You yelled out a 'yes!' before jumping from Harry’s lap and running to the High Table.

Once you reached it, you slammed your two hands right in front of Dumbledoor and McGonagall. "Well, professor, it seems like you have a small debt to pay, isn't it?" you smirked.

Dumbledoor sighed. "Very well. Ms. Y/L/N," he gave you a small bag full of galleons. "Minerva," he gave McGonagall another one.

"Yes, Albus, Ms. Y/L/N is quite right, I reckon. And I believe you also owe me something, no?" Minerva raised her eyebrows with a small proudful smile.

You high-fived McGonagall, who rolled her eyes, and put your galleons in a hidden pocket of your robe. "Nice doing business with you. Headmaster, Minnie," you started to walk run back to her table.

When you got there, everything was still the same. Yells, laughs, bickering, the usual. You took place in your boyfriend's lap again, this time facing him and grinned as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Hello there, my love!"

Harry bit his lip, trying to contain his amusement. "How much did you get this time?"

You eyed him suspiciously. However, you quickly gave in when Harry raised an eyebrow. "...20 galleons," you answered proudly.

Harry grinned. "Why do they keep betting with you?"

"Maybe they still haven't memorised the sore taste of loss?" you sighed dramatically.

"Merlin, I love you so much," Harry laughed and brought your face closer.

"Of course you do, doesn't everybody?" you teased.

Harry deadpanned.

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding, I've been spending way too much time with Padfoot, haven't I?" you tried again. No response from Harry. You then beamed. "I love you."

Harry brushed your lips together, a soft smile adorning his face. And when you were sure he would kiss you, he suddenly smirked. "Doesn't everybody?"

"Harry James Potter!"

Yes, his life really was not easy, but he wouldn't have it any other way.

the golden era masterlist

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harry james potter

thunder-bombs

synopse: you love thunderstorms, until one night they bring bad memories back. who better than harry to make you feel better? (3.4k words)

thursdays of dark grey skies

synopse: who would have thought that one study thursday of dark grey skies could change so much? (5.8k words)

howlers

synopse: everytime harry fucks anything up and gets in trouble, there is a bet: which howler will he be receiving? (1.4k words)

i love this sm <3

Obliviously yours (4.3k)

summary: when you and james get detention and are tasked to serve drinks at slughorn's party, you have no choice but to agree than fail the class. but the whole night, everybody gives their piece of mind about you and james' relationship. this makes you rethink everything you do and everything you feel for james.

warnings: drinking

pairing: james potter x fem!reader

a/n: oh god writers block sux!!! I've finally took the time off and wrote this little gem. actually loved this piece, hope u do too <3

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James Potter was evil. Absolutely vile. You knew how your relationship with him worked. It was the type where you argued whenever you saw each other, debated about almost everything, and made most of your subjects a competition. But it also had boundaries you both put up, the first one being not sabatoging the others work.

And guess what the boy did? He sabatoged your fucking work.

You were near bursting, your sneer louder than you've ever let out. Slughorn was panicking in front of your table, where he stood with a frown on his face. "Miss Y/l/n, I suggest you go clean yourself up." He announces, his voice loud for the whole class.

You huffed out a tired breath. "Yes, I'll go do that. Right after Potter is held accountable for his sticky fingers sticking into my potion!" You said on the top of your lungs, pointing at James.

James Potter, who had the audacity to sit on his chair looking so innocent, began to smile. You knew it was him who ruined your potion, who else would it be? Your potion was the one that looked the most presentable in that class, and James must've been jealous.

James scoffs, "Excuse me? Professor, I think Y/l/n should be punished for even accusing me of such things!" He said dramatically, making your eyes roll in place.

"I know it was you! You were jealous because I did better. I always do, that's why you couldn't bear seeing me with the praise and you put in the powder into my potion!"

You swore you were about to launch over where James sat if it wasn't for Marlene gripping your arm tightly. She kept you in place while you and James eyed each other like you were in battle.

"Enough!" Slughorn interrupted, his face hot red with anger. "Both of you, I'll see you in detention at six! And no, this isn't because of who sabotaged who's potion. It's because both of you disrupted my class. We'll investigate the 'sabotaged potion' later." He said, gripping his wand tighter into his fist.

You were about to shout another quip to James, knowing you'd be in detention anyway and decoded that he deserved a rude comment. But with a flick of his wand, Slughorn silenced both you and James with a spell then walked to the front of the class casually.

You rolled your eyes as James did the same. Sirius patted his back beside him, and Marlene gave you a deathly look. Just another ordinary day.

—

Tap, tap, tap. James' shoes echoes through the room, his fingers tapping on the wood of his chair. He seemed impatient, maybe the waiting was driving him mad. Or maybe it was simply the uncomfortable feeling of being in the dungeons, with the dark green and the freezing walls surrounding him.

"Can you stop that?" You asked quite rudely, your eyes sliding to look at him.

James simply nodded and stopped his actions, his leg still scuffling but not making a loud sound. Sometimes, times like these for example— James Potter was ... tolerable. It doesn't happen very often, because as he says, "You're always the cause of my headache, Y/l/n." So you always saw him whenever he was uptight and stressed out.

"Sorry." He muttered lowly.

One of these rare moments of him, was also quite ... attractive. You would never say it out loud and to anyone. It was the same as coming up to him and getting his ego fed even more.

But you couldn't stop the raging feelings whenever your eyes needed a rest. He was quite the sight, tall, muscular, and that hair. You were quite obsessed with his hair, dark and soft. Whenever it felt too long during classes or you needed to focus on something else, your eyes would shamelessly land on James.

You only got the side view of him from where you usually sat in class. But it didn't stop you from ogling the boy. So now, when you were alone with him while seated in Slughorn's dark office— you couldn't help it. James was fiddling with his fingers, and your eyes didn't leave burning into his face.

"You think he's going going make us clean all the trophies again?" He asks suddenly, his voice sounding more raspy after all the silence.

You quickly looked away, hear rushing to your cheeks. "That's probably the worst punishment I've ever gotten." You admitted, trying to focus on the conversation. "It didn't help that you had like ... five or six trophies and pretended not to see them so I had to clean it." You added.

You still remembered the day vividly, just last week you received detention with James Potter as well. It was one of the worst days you've had. Being stuck in a small dimly lit room with him and having to clean dusty trophies. It quite literally felt like you were being trapped in a cage and having to deal with the devil.

James interrupted your thoughts with his snicker. "Had to show 'em off, y'know? I thought girls liked smart guys." And when he said it, you froze.

Maybe the freezing cold Rook suddenly got hot, and you couldn't breathe because your neck felt restricted with your red and golden tie wound tightly around you. "What? Were you trying to impress me?" You asked, your brows furrowed together in confusion.

As if James had just noticed what he said, he sat straighter but kept his gaze in front of him. "No I was just ... no— no I was trying to make you jealous." He stuttered.

You suddenly scoffed, but laughed at the same time. "Please, I've done better in almost all of our classes and you know it."

James takes offense in this, his arm looping on the side of his chair and looking at you. "Yeah but you've gotten us in more messes." He shoots.

"Oh, so you admit I'm smarter than you!" You couldn't help but reply.

"What—! No, remember how Flitwick praised my part of our group project?"

"Don't try to change the subject, Potter. I'm better and you know it. You know it but you can't admit it." You said, looking down at your nails as the conversation bored you.

"Yeah, right. I can't believe I ever tried impressing you, Y/l/n." He said coldly, barely sparing you a glance.

"It didn't fucking work, because I will never be caught dead being impressed in you." You sneered, your words cutting his wounded heart into two halves.

Just when you were about to take back what you were about to say, offer him an apology or do something— the door busted open and Slughorn came in with the same angered expression he had during class.

—

"The problem I've had with you two ... it's an endless list." Slughorn explained, his fingers intertwining together. "It's been six months, and all those six months have felt like pure hell to me whenever both of you are in my class." He said, making it clear how angry he was.

"Professor—" James tried, but was rudely interrupted.

"No! You will stay silent for as long as I'm talking, Mr. Potter. And I won't be tolerating a word from you either, Miss. Y/l/n." He said calmly, though his expression said otherwise. "Is that understood?"

You both nodded, "Yes, professor."

"Alright, now let's talk about your form of detention. Since all our trophies have been polished, cauldrons have been scrubbed, and you can't be trusted to tutor first years without competing with each other—really there's nothing else you could do." Slughorn explained, sighing and rubbing a hand on his forehead.

"Might I suggest—"

"No talking!" Slughorn repeated, making you slump on your seat. "I've had it enough with you two that I'm considering kicking you both our of the Slug Club." He complained, lighting up at his own words. "Wait a second ... both of you are in the Slug Club, yes?"

You and James nodded, not saying a word as both of you stared at the angry professor.

"Well, then! You could serve the drinks! This is perfect, I needed last minute volunteers for students who needed extra credit. I think both of you would do well for servers, hm? It's not that hard to pass around drinks." He said to himself.

James scoffed, "No, wait— you're asking us to be servers? To a party that we were respectfully invited to?"

Then you added, "Yeah, this is just— quite rushed, sir. I was looking forward to this party, to meet people from the ministry and make connections. I— I even bought a dress for this occasion, I thought—"

Slughorn put up a hand, "Now, now. Don't you complain to me about all this. Both of you deserve this punishment, after making it really hard for me to teach in class." He said, looking like he's had enough. "Don't worry about the dress Miss. Y/l/n, both of you can come in formal clothing— I shall not ruin your night of confidence." He cleared his throat while getting up from his chair.

Both you and James tried to reason with the man, but it was to no avail.

"Sir—"

"I can't believe—"

Slughorn waved his wand, and both of your mouths were sealed shut. When the room was quiet, he muttered, "Now excuse me, I shall be going over some papers. Both of you should go to bed, you must be exhausted after all the fighting, I'm sure."

—

The common room was empty, it was just past seven but it seemed like no one wanted to witness you and James' quarrel that almost always happens after a talk with a professor.

After the painting door closed, James skipped to the couch and threw his body on it tiredly. "I am fucking exhausted." He admitted, sighing heavily and stared at the fire that was still burning brightly.

"Shut up, Potter. I can't even hear your voice without getting upset. This party was important to me!" You said suddenly, throwing your bag to the ground, the contents spilling out.

"Right, because it didn't to me. Got a new suit and all." He muttered, his expression obviously looking more sour now.

You decided to sit on the lounge chair that was next to the couch, striking up a conversation. "Yeah? Was it snazzy? Plain black ... or?"

"Why do you care?" James snaps, "Yeah, it's plain black." He adds sheepishly.

You roll your eyes, chuckling all the while. "You're so lame, Potter. Who're you trying to impress with a plain black suit?" You mocked, your eyes glancing at him.

Just as he talks, your eyes don't dare to move from his face. He pushes his hair back, still short black curls tumbling down his forehead. You think then, that he's so gorgeous, with his eyes looking so warm and brown. His lips are red, highlighting his pale features.

Then he makes a small sound, flicking his fingers to signal you to listen. "Hey, you listening?" He says, his tone so low. And it sounds so different than how he usually talks to you.

"Er .. yeah. You were saying who you're trying to impress ... and I dunno, blanked out." You admitted, trying to look anywhere except his pretty face.

"You really wanna hear this? I don't think sharing who we fancy are part of this rivalry relationship." He says, a teasing grin painted on his lips.

"Sure, whatever." You agree, shrugging your shoulders. But inside, you felt uneasy. You didn't know much about James Potter's lovelife, all you did was that he fancied Lily Evans. Once upon a time he did, because lately it didn't seem like he was interested in the redhead at all.

Part of you felt jealous, but then you remembered that you had no right to be. James Potter wasn't your boyfriend, or even friend on that matter. Even though you admit you are attracted to him, and would maybe want to snog him in a broom cupboard — you really had no right to be jealous.

"She's ah ... witty. I guess that's a word to describe her, she's beautiful too of course— but her beauty doesn't compare to her brains. I love a smart girl, y'know? A friendly competition in a relationship would be awesome." James chuckles. You nod your head, turning your head to the fire after you saw James' enamored expression.

"You sound like you're obsessed with her." You comment, trying trying avoid his gaze.

When James nods, you don't see it. You don't see how he says "I am." While he's looking straight at the back of your head.

"One thing I hate though, is that she's so fucking hard to talk to. I don't think I've ever had a proper conversation with her ... she's always way too busy to pay attention to me. It sucks that way." James admits, biting his gums and fiddling with his fingers.

"Who is she?" You asked bluntly, desperate to know about this mysterious girl that James is apparently in love with.

James tsked, "Not a chance I'm telling you."

You looked back to him, "I think you should do something about the suit. Plain black won't impress anyone. Maybe add a flower or something, girls love that." I love that. You tried to keep it in your head, careful not to let it out of your mouth.

—

"How do I look?" You asked Marlene, who was laying in bed with a book in hand. She glanced your way and dropped the book, getting up and approaching you.

"Amazing!" Marlene exclaimed, her hands smoothing down the fabric of your dress.

"Not exactly house spirited, but I thought yellow would have a nice touch." You smiled, happy to see your best friend just as excited as you were.

The dress you were wearing was long, going down and nipping your ankles. It was made of an intricate silky design, layers of white and yellow overlapping each other. The top half was just as beautiful, detailed green flowers sprinkling the area near your chest. Then, the straps on your shoulders were thin. It was made out of white fabric, a beautiful detail covering them.

"Merlin, Y/n. You look gorgeous. I'm sure Potter will stare at you the whole night. What a shame you'll have to serve drinks, though." Marlene complimented, her fingers tracing the designs of your dress.

"Potter? James Potter?" You asked, not paying attention to anything else she was saying. "What are you on about, Mar?" You said, half angry and half curious.

"I'm just saying ... you look beautiful tonight, Y/n. He may be your enemy, but he's a boy and he's got eyes. There's no telling what would happen tonight, what with your tension as well." Marlene shrugged, handing you another fresh smile.

"He's not— he won't. He's into someone else, anyways. I'm betting all my galleons it's Lily Evans." You said, an irritated look coming on your face.

Marlene traced a last shape on your dress, then her hands reached up to comb through your head of hair. And finally, she put her hands on your shoulders, smiling enthusiastically. "Or maybe it's you, honey."

—

Marlene's words made you rethink every decision of yours as you made your way up to the seventh floor. Your hands was nervously picking at your dress, looping through the fabric and smoothing it. James had agreed to meet you in front of the tent an, because as Slughorn had ordered, the both of you were supposed to stick together where he could see you.

You bite your lip as you see James' figure, his body clad in the black suit he told you about. It didn't usually feel like this when you were approaching him. Maybe it was because of Marlene's words and because you were wearing a dress. A beautiful dress, that made you look gorgeous. Any other time, you'd be dressed in normal clothes and approaching James to gloat about your marks in Transfiguration. But this time it felt different.

But perhaps, it was also the quickly approaching attraction and/or feelings you had for James. Before you had time to rethink anything else again, James waved a hand your way.

You approached him confidently, making sure you didn't mess up anything while you walked to him. James turned his head to peer inside the tent ad you want towards him. When you arrived behind him, he didn't bother looking at you as he kept his gaze on something— or rather someone else.

"Slughorn wants us to pass drinks for that side. Those are his friends and connections, so we're allowed to serve them alcoholic drinks." James explained, his hand pointing to a group of someone.

You muttered a yes to him and let the boy continue. "And that side, those are all students. You can probably tell the difference between them, but just a heads up before you shove firewhiskey down their throats." He said, chuckling at his own joke.

"Got it, Potter." You told him, keeping quiet as James stood silently as well. "What else?"

James seemed to be knocked out of a trance, as he shook his head but kept his gaze where it was. "Huh?"

When you shoved him over to see who it was he was looking at, you weren't surprised. "We're you looking at someone?" You teased, though a smile wasn't present on your face. "Lily Evans, huh? I love her dress." You commented, closing the tent flaps shut after that and looking at James entirely.

"No, I— I was looking at—" he seemed to cut himself off, not knowing what to say I the midst of it all. Because in front of him stood a pretty girl, standing straight looking heavenly.

You didn't dare to meet his gaze, not wanting to suddenly catch his eye and let him see through your expression. So instead, you focused on his breast pocket. A single flower sitting limply inside it, pale green— just like the ones that detailed the top half of your dress.

"Oh, wow. You really took my advice and went with the flower." You raised your brows, flicking the flower playfully. "Looks great on you ... you look great tonight." You praised, feeling gutsy.

James didn't say anything, his body frozen in place and his lips sealed. Then he looked at you and caught that perfect second where you frowned just the smallest bit. And he thought his heart would break into pieces any moment then.

"Guess I'll see you inside, then."

James didn't have time to respond, letting you walk away as you heels clicked and echoed through the halls. All he wanted to do was pull you closer, kiss your hand gently and tell you how incredible you looked tonight. But he couldn't, just like he couldn't all these past years he's been obsessed with you.

—

"No, Longbottom you can only have the drinks on the left. Usually I'd let you do the fuck all you want, but I don't really want to fail Potions this year." You said with an annoyed tone, your hand already growing tired after holding a tray full of drinks for the past hour.

"Oh you're serving drinks for extra credit? Y/n, I though you were excellent at everything!" The boy in front of you laughed, some alcohol clearly already inside his system.

"No you idiot! I'm here because James Potter decided to be a dick to me again and got us both into detention. Detention being serving drinks to people like you— who can't follow the rules."

Longbottom put up his hands defensively. "Woah, just because loverboy got you into another mess don't take it out on me." He said with slight amusement in his tone.

"Lover— why does everybody keep saying that? Me and Potter aren't fucking dating. We aren't anything." You said with a scoff.

A voice behind you startled your nerves, "Really? Because I thought we had some sort of friendship after last night. Advice giving is actually one of the things that start a friendship, Y/l/n. When I met Pads, he gave me an hour of advice on how collared shirts effect our daily lives. It was bullshit honestly, didn't grasp a single thing out of that hour." James rambled, but finally ending on giving you a grin.

With a confused look, Longbottom scrunched his nose and slurred out an excuse from both of you. Then you turned to James, seeing that his hands were empty, you shoved your tray on them. "Hold that for me, I need to go to the bathroom." You told him, trying to escape from the situation.

James smiled like he knew what was going on. "No way. I observed you the whole night and you didn't even drink a single drop. Which I'm quite concerned about because you must be parched— point is, you don't need to go to the bathroom."

You sighed, "Alright, I don't need to. But I want to. It's so crowded in here and I can't even breathe without people asking for drinks."

James muffled his laugh, "That is your job." He replied, giving you a small smile. Somehow, that smile made you feel a little bit better. You used to be confused when someone told you that James had the ability to make someone feel better so quickly. But now you understood it. Because that small grin had made your heart quicken and your lips tingle to smile back.

"I'm just ... exhausted. But that won't cover it, I'm more than exhausted. My arms sore and my legs hurt so much in these heels." You complained.

James' face lit up, an idea sparking in his mind. "Everyone here is either drunk, or too busy chatting up with each other that they won't notice two servers sneaking out. Come on, I know a place."

—

"It's chilly up here." You muttered, rubbing your arms to get some warmth in. It was no use though, because the wind blew harsher. James had bought you to a small balcony, just like the Astronomy Tower but without the big telescopes and much smaller.

"No one's been here everytime I come up here. It's pretty much deserted, me and Remus found out about it in a rush." He told you, looking out to the sky.

The sky and it's endless limits, tiny dots on the sky blinking back to you. You admired the night sky, taking note of every little movement of the clouds and smiling in awe.

"It's so beautiful." You comment, your hand fiddling with your dress to distract you from the numbing cold.

"You are." James said from behind you, walking closer to where you stood.

You turned back to look at him in haste, "I'm what?"

"You're beautiful." James said, his mouth twitching at the excitement of finally saying those words to you. "You look beautiful tonight, like every other night."

Your expression wasn't readable when you talked. "Shut up, Potter. Don't say shit like that." You tell him, turning back to look at the dark sky.

"What do you mean?"

You scoffed, "Don't say things you don't mean. You tell me I'm beautiful now. Then you bring me down everytime we compete in class. It's like you manage to make me hurt everyday and not notice it."

When you finished, James touched your shoulder with his fingers. A nudge, his finger grabbing at you gently. You can feel his icy cold skin on yours, marveling at the new feeling. "Is that what you think? That I'm only competing with you?"

"What else? You've never seen me, and I'm always just right behind you, stupidly staring." You say the last part lowly, feeling ashamed that you said the words.

"I just— I just wanted to impress you." James said, scratching the back of his neck.

"I don't like to be impressed like that. It feels like shit. Why don't you try to impress me like Evans? She might not like it ... but I would." You  confessed, saying it sheepishly.

"Really? I'm a little extra, I though you'd appreciate a guy who challenges you and does it subtly."

"Things change, maybe I just want you."

James stepped closer, his fingers snaking up to the sides of your face. "You mean that, darling?" He asked you, a smug smile making its way on his lips. His thumb traces the curve of your lips, getting a bit of gloss on his skin. "I've wanted you for so long ... and I don't want you if you're still unsure about it."

"Kiss me." You ordered, your hands climbing up to lay flat on his chest.

"Are you sure—?"

No more hesitation this time. You don't let James finish as you press your lips to his. He obliges and bring you closer, fingers slipping under to grip your waist. You let out a small sound come out from your mouth, James' heart growing weak at it. You breathe into his mouth, sharing oxygen in the small confines of his kiss.

As if it's like a competition, you don't want to pull away and admit defeat on who was out of breath first. So finally, James pulls away and grins at the sight of you. It felt good to see him smile so sweetly at you, wanting to get used to the sight.

"I'm still confused how you didn't notice, Potter ... I stare at you so much in class I'm surprised I even know the material." You laughed.

"I dunno." He shrugs.

"You're so oblivious." You comment, picking at his suit jacket and shuddering at the slightest when he leans close.

"Obliviously yours, though." He mutters, pausing just a second to take in your image before kissing you sweetly.

—@ wrathspoet

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James potter: @rqmanoff @destourtereaux @messrsssss @loopy-lupinn @lilithcromwell

Marauders: @risingtripletaurus @athenapotter @lauralestrange7 @sagepotters

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this is so precious, I'm crying 😭

Feverish (1.4k)

summary: when peter finds out you're sick, he opts not to go do his spidey business and takes care of you instead.

warnings: reader being sick, eating and food, mentions of pete bloody and beaten

pairing: tasm!peter parker x fem!reader

a/n: look at me writing for someone other than james potter 👀 anyways, roommate au yall 🥰!!

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“You should just go, Pete. I’m fine over here, with my soup and … this really cold apartment.” You mutter bitterly, clutching your body tighter.

Peter scoffs, “When say shit like that I'm not assured about your well-being at all, Y/n." He sighed deeply and rubbed two fingers on his forehead.

"I insist that you go, do all your saving lives shit and come back to me with that sandwich roll I like from the corner store." You said, feeling more annoyed.

Peter put his hands on his hips dramatically, huffing a sigh and sitting down in your bed. You roll your eyes at him and press further into your sheets.

You respected and was really grateful that Peter wanted to stay at home and take care of you. But with his indecisive ass, he couldn't make up his mind. You told him countless times that you were okay, but the boy just wasn't having it.

He's been like this the moment you stepped inside the apartment. It was probably two years ago when you signed the lease to share with Peter. You were just fresh out of high school, new to the City and had no idea where you were. That was until you found the 'roommate wanted' sign in a sports centre it was posted under the name May— so you definitely didn't expect a male roommate. Turns out, Peter's aunt had helped with it, but she wasn't the one living there.

Slowly but surely, your friendship grew and bloomed in the small confines of the musty apartment. Both of you were way too broke to pay for a nicer place, months barely scraping by at your shitty jobs. This was part of the reason you couldn't turn the heater on because it cost a lot. So you settled into a nice, cheap, albeit a little rough routine.

Though somehow, Peter made it all feel good. Both of you ate from the Chinese restaurant near there almost every night, revelling in egg rolls and chicken soup. Somedays, pizza it was. Between studying, eating, and watching re-reruns of Friends episodes, life was good.

But that was before it happened. One night while you were sleeping, the door banged open. With a frightening yelp, you got our if bed with a spatula in hand to at least guard you against the sound.

But when the light was turned on by the supposed intruder, you were shocked. Peter Parker ... Peter Parker your roommate was in a Spiderman suit. And from then on, you knew Peter better as Spiderman. You sometimes still couldn't believe it, after watching him from the news screen, gliding all I've New York City.

But here you were now, laying in bed all sickly while he was by your side trying his best to keep you warm.

"Oh, God. You're shivering, what do I do?" He asks in a panicky voice, his eyebrows furrowing in complete confusion.

"Just shut up. It would make me feel a lot better." You grumbled, trying to focus on sleeping peacefully.

"I'm sorry we can't turn the heater on, shit just costs so much and we gotta save for winter." He changed the topic, biting on his nails guiltily.

"No, it's okay, m'fine." You mutter.

Out of nowhere, Peter suddenly puts a hand on your back and begin rubbing your body. Warmth spreading to you, not just on your body but also in your cheeks. Peter had always been quite the physical guy, cuddling with you in front of the television, leaning into you while you cooked, and so on.

Out of all those moments, you didn't know why him rubbing your back gently made you flush even redder. His hands go to your hair now, raking the strands and massaging your scalp.

"Feeling better?" He asks, chuckling a little at his own words.

"Mmh, not at all. But keep going, please." You said, revelling at the feeling of his soft touch. Peter is feeling your forehead, your cheeks, then your neck.

"You're really hot." He stated, gaping when he heard his own words.

You snicker at him, turning your head to his side, "Thanks, so are you Spiderman."

Peter groans at this because one of the things he hates is that you always bring up Spiderman. He said it was weird and felt like he was two people at once, always telling you to stop with it because it made him feel like someone else. But you couldn't really stop it, knowing something like this was huge.

Peter gets off the bed, his weight making the wood creak beneath him. "Come out for a sec, we'll get some soup in you and then you can rest for the day." He offers, a hand already extended so you could grab it.

You stare at the ceiling, giving Peter your hand. Your fingers innocently coil together. "Honestly, I don't have the energy anymore." You say tiredly, rubbing your head.

Peter seemed to frown when he saw your expression. You must have some sort of headache going on because you were rarely this unenergized. With nothing to say, he squeezed your hand and leaned his face forward to plant a kiss on your head. "Alright, I'll go bring it for you. Wait up for me, don't fall asleep just yet."

You smiled weakly at him. Your mind wandered to the times you've cared for each other. That one time when he came home all beaten up and bloody, his suit torn by the arm and his body limp. That was the source of your nightmares, seeing Peter like that hurt you more than anything did. He looked fragile, remembering that he was just as much a kid like you— but in a suit trying his best.

That night, you brought the first aid kit and pressed alcohol swabs to his skin. You winced every time he hissed, your heart hammering at the sight of him in pain. You had to help him shower for about a month or so, knowing how delicate the stitches you crafted on his skin were.

A knock on the door signalled Peter coming, you grinned at the sight of him inside your room. He bought a tray, in it was a bowl of soup, a tall glass of water, and a few pills. He set it down gently on your nightstand, taking out the bowl first and putting it in your hands. "Here you go, eat up."

"I could've gotten my own soup, y'know? I'm a big girl, Pete." You complain, though grateful as ever once you begin spooning the soup and feeling better with a filled stomach.

"Yeah, sure. You can't even change the showerhead setting." Peter starts, chuckling at the memory.

"That was one time!" You said loudly, but not quite a shout. "The roll thingy was hard to push, don't blame me!" You defended.

"No, no I just love teasing you." He admits. "Anyways, do you wanna watch something? I'll bring my laptop over here, I know you fall asleep faster with something playing on." He offers, a kind smile on his face.

You nodded at him through the spoonful of soup in your mouth. Then Peter was out the door, quick to bring his laptop and set something on it. He waited until you were finished eating, got the water out and helped you with the pill. After that, both of you settled in bed.

The heater wasn't on, so it was quite cold. But Peter kept you warm, his body basically covering you like a warm jacket. There were blankets strewn all over the bed, making it more comfortable for you and Peter.

Peter has a hand behind your back, caressing you over your large sweatshirt. He rubs you gently, careful not to make it harsher and cause you any discomfort. Another hand is clutched under the laptop to keep it steady.

And with a final look at the screen, your eyelids begin to close tiredly. When Peter takes note of this, he closes the laptop and lays you down gently. Then he's about to leave—

"Can you stay with me? You're really really warm and you take care of me so well." You admit, the heat on your cheeks are practically scorching.

Peter mutters, "Of course." As quickly as he jumped onto the bed. Your body is faced to the other side, so Peter takes it upon himself to spoon you gently. As he drapes his body over yours, you let out an appreciative hum.

Peter presses gentle kisses on the side of your head and you swear you've never come near bursting before. He takes his time with you, never rushing into your process of anything.

—@ wrathspoet

General taglist: @regulusblackswhorecrux @scandalous-chaos @bisexualdragongirl @scamanderinskirts @comfort-reads @ughgclden @dulcet-lover @v1oletvenus @raajali3 @bby-gxrnet

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PLEASE I JUST LOVE HIM

Andrew Garfield as Peter Parker The Amazing Spider-Man (2012)

hi! can i request a harry x slytherin!reader imagine? could you also write that the reader’s best friends are blaise, pansy and draco and she’s flirty and cool and popular and harry’s had a crush on her for a long time and now he finds out she always had a thing for him but she didn’t want to admit it? thank you so much btw if u will, have a nice day <3

Say That Again

Pairings: Harry Potter x fem!reader

House: Slytherin

Warnings: none

GIF not mine! Credits go to the original creator!

A/n: Genuinely sorry for the slow updates!

“Y/n and I had a bet,” Harry turned his heels towards the courtyard as he heard Malfoy’s mocking voice. “She said Potter might well last for half an hour. But I think he won’t even last for ten minutes.”

He resisted his urge to tumble Malfoy down the Black Lake as the Slytherin seeker scoffed at her friend’s direction.

“What say, Potter?” Y/n stepped towards him in calculated steps, her disarming smile never faltering as she stood in front of him. “Make me win.”

He never understood what was that thing about her that made his heart skip a beat every time he had to compete with this particular girl during Quidditch matches (he didn’t like catching the snitch before her, though she had succeeded in capturing the restless orb many times). Nor could he comprehend why the Potions class ended in a wink when he was partnered with her.

Was he falling for a Slytherin? Heck no- he already did.

“Y/n! Transfiguration this time,” Pansy pulled her friend before Harry could reply, sending a knowing glance at her as she whispered, “Flirt with Saint Potter later.”

Getting killed by a dragon or forgetting about Y/n?

He’s getting killed this time.

“How am I supposed to battle a dragon?”

“Bloody hell, mate!” The red-haired Weasley sighed as he dramatically threw all the bundles of papers that Hermione had made him skim. “Ask Y/n if you only want to last for more than half an hour for her. I’m going to ‘ed.”

Harry jutted his chin on the fragile book that lay uninterested on the table.

“Hermione?”

Instead of words, he met with a ‘tut’ from her direction as her bushy hair grew bushier, if possible, as she sat with a castle of library books plunked around her.

This was turning insane.

“Honestly,” She scrunched her nose up in the air, “whatever you are planning is ridiculous.”

“No, it’s Y/n,” he replied dreamily after which he met with a thick spined book on his head.

Hermione was scary but the dragon was scarier.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

Double Potions? Nah, a total hell.

“Like them, Potter?”

Harry rolled his eyes for the millionth time that day as the familiar white-blond hair zoomed into his sight while he tried to enter the dungeons.

Blaise, the ordinary scowl stuck under his slitted eyes, blocked the door further, his chest purposefully thrust forward like Malfoy.

And Harry could not find even one sensible reason for Y/n befriending them.

“Made them myself. And this isn’t the only thing it does,” Malfoy pointed as the badge turned an ugly green, reading Potter stinks.

“Brilliant,” the raven-haired boy hoisted the bag on his shoulder. “Now move.”

And that’s where their illogical rivalry lightened.

Harry definitely didn’t understand how he stepped into this situation where both of them were standing inches from each other, their wands ready to at least sabotage this Potions class.

“Woah, mate, calm down.”

The familiar voice reiterated in the shell of his ears as he unconsciously lowered his wand, sending death glares at the boy who just shrugged and walked away with Blaise and Pansy as Y/n crossed her arms threateningly.

“Don’t worry about those badges, though,” she tried hard to maintain nonchalance. “Consider this gift from my side.”

And as she pinned the badge she had in the fist of our palm to his still chest (he couldn’t tell why he wasn’t breathing), he had to blink at least four times to make sure she did that.

She winked at him as she walked away, pointing at the badge for the last time.

Potter Winks.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“I’m telling you, you won’t even last for two minutes if you keep daydreaming like that.”

He ignored Hermione’s upbraiding as he lied, huffing at the bland ceiling of his four-poster bed.

“Are you even listening to me?”

“No.”

He heard Hermione pluck up her books rather aggressively, and when the last footsteps died away, he rubbed his eyes in frustration.

“So much for a Slytherin, eh, mate?”

“Does that even matter?”

Ron gulped in defeat, and shrugging, shooed Crookshanks out of the dorms.

“Why don’t you just ask her out? Maybe, I mean…”

To Harry, it almost felt that the landing of the mattress slipped from beneath him.

“I don’t know… Look at her- she is so popular, she flirts do well-”

“Just with you,” Ron replied in utter boredom.

“That’s out of point- er-excuse me?”

“Only with you.”

“Pirate L/n likes Saint Potter?” Malfoy looked with amusement between Pansy and Y/n- Pansy, who giddily laughed at Y/n’s not-so-common flustered expression.

“I’m not a pirate!”

“Don’t tell me you hoodwinked Draco’s badge making,” their other friend plonked on the luxurious green couch as Y/n tutted. “Makes everything so obvious.”

“I don’t know what you all are vomiting about,” she rolled her eyes and made her way out of the dungeons.

“Accio fireb- Ahh, darn it!”

Harry shrieked in annoyance as the broomstick dwindled mid-air like straw before falling down with a thud.

Now even bad luck found him.

“You know, you are doing it wrong,” his eyes landed on the same Slytherin girl who was currently leaning on the door frame, watching him intently. “Move your hand a little less. Just a little.”

Her cold hand molded onto his warm, sweaty hand and with a flick of the wand, Harry could see the Firebolt soaring towards them in stable movements.

“Nervous for tomorrow?” Her voice was soft, not challengingly attractive this time. And this softness suited her.

“Uh- no,” he threw himself over a stray chair in the deserted classroom, patting the chair next to him. “I’m dying this time.”

Y/n snorted as she sat beside him, her eyes following the movement of his green ones.

“You will be alright. I trust you.”

And she was quite right about him being...splendid. Harry saw her lips curved into a suppressed smile as she watched him hunting for the Golden egg.

Competing with him was motive driven, but watching him was different. Quite impressive he was, for sure.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching the name of Godric Gryffindor by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons!”

The Slytherins visibly froze at this commotion well before they entered the hall. This meeting was going to turn interesting at a point.

McGonagall sighed at the sight of silver and green as she turned back to the ‘bumbling band of baboons’.

“Ah, well. Since Professor Snape is not fit for guiding this stuff, the Slytherins are joining us today. Sit down, boys on the left and girls on the right.”

Harry’s heart stood still as Y/n sat straight in front of him, and even though they were sitting feets apart, he could feel the palpitations down his chest.

Minutes after Ron demonstrated ball dance with McGonagall, and the rest of the students were moving hand-in-hand with slow movements, they both were still on their seats, eyes still scanning each other.

“I’d appreciate it if you join Potter, L/n. He needs practice before the ball,” McGonagall called out as she passed by with Ron.

What was she even anticipating at this moment? At least not those teasing smirks from her friends.

“Er- do you know how to do this stuff?” The Gryffindor pointed between them as Y/n shook her head.

“Not going to lie, no. But you got to be ready for the ball, isn’t it, Potter? So, together?”

“Together.”

It felt like heaven bestowed on them as they strolled through the hall, his hand on her waist, and her hand on his shoulder. They didn’t care that they were tossers at dancing, they just carried out, without a single word, silently swaying in each other’s embrace.

Harry knew he needed her.

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“Staying back for Saint Potter?”

“Pansy, the door’s straight,” Y/n deadpanned as she sluggishly rolled over the couch.

No matter how pictureistique Hogsmeade looked today, she was drained till her guts.

“Tell him that if he doesn’t ask you for the ball today, I’m framing him somewhere.”

“Draco, door’s there for you too.”

Blaise grinned at the sour faces of his friends as he scurried out of the common room, anticipating to satisfy his sweet tooth.

Y/n had her to-do list ready for today- sleep, bath, eat, sleep.

But Potter found his way to eat out a big portion of it, nonetheless.

Brilliant.

“Where next?” He piped from beside her as they strolled through the empty corridors of the castle.

“You know, Harry?” He turned to her, his long raven hair brushing the periphery of his shoulder like a bird skimming the waves. “I’ve always been with green all my life. Why don’t you show me some red?”

“So restless to see Gryffindors?” Harry chuckled as he pushed her all the way.

“I mean, yeah. Don’t pretend like you haven’t seen ours!”

🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄🜁🜄

“Umm, Y/n?” Harry carefully looked up from the rug as she buried herself under the invisible horizon of the book. “I just realised you have your buttons fixed, er- incorrectly?”

“Are you asserting or just shooting in the dark?”

“They are… Should I help?”

He got to his feet as she hummed in response, a floaty feeling regaining its reign in both of their stomachs.

“I’ve always wanted to ask you since that day at practice,” he gently undid a single button and looped it through the correct place, “Would you come with me to the ball?”

“Are you sure we won’t tangle ourselves while dancing?” Her lips curled in a badly hidden smile as Harry shook his head, his fingers still fumbling with the buttons.

“Well, would you?”

His face grew hot as her fingers caressed his cheek, gliding further to his nape as she pulled him closer.

And for once she wasn’t cold; only a warm breath batted his cupid bow as her forehead touched his...her shallow breaths almost sounding like an addictive lullaby to him.

“I’d love to, Harry, only if nobody contradicts.”

“Did you just call this Potter by his name?” She could hear him grin as she bit on the obliterating walls of her mouth.

What was making it so difficult?

Her train of (unanswered) questions were wrecked in between as her lips converged into his, a sweet dampness of his mouth reminding her of butterbeer. His hand raced down to her waist, closing the non-existent hiatus between them.

This happened for a while until Crookshanks conferred on them by his presence, the sudden mewl, making them jump. And no surprises when both of them fell from the bed (all thanks to Harry’s clumsy self), a low gruff groan bursting from Harry's throat.

“So, I guess it’s a yes,” he inquired as she mended to his askewed specs.

They were interrupted by scruffy footsteps and as soon as Ron entered the dorms, he froze, the bag of Honeydukes sweets cowped down to the floor.

“Er- I’ll let you both finish,” he pointed at Harry's (more than ever) messed up hair, his hand encased compactly around the Slytherin, whose lips were far more swollen than Harry's.

Y/n awkwardly slipped off from Harry’s grip onto the rugged floor as he chuckled at his friend’s uneasiness.

“It’s a yes.”

“Brilliant. So what you liked the best about this red,” he pointed lazily at the silhouette of the dorms.

“The floor,” she laughed rolling into his chest, the soft material of his jumper rubbing onto her cheeks.

“What- what? Say that again.”