Hi I Was Wondering If You Could Do A Poly Wolfstar Fic With A Fem Reader Where She Feels Left Out Of

Hi i was wondering if you could do a poly wolfstar fic with a fem reader where she feels left out of the relationship because they start to drifting apart which then leads to them breaking up. But then Sirius and Remus realises what they did wrong but reader just doesnt want to because shes scared they'll leave her out again.💗

hi angel! thank you for the request ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst

poly!wolfstar x reader

You lean against the doorway, quietly observing them. Something you always seem to be doing these days. Your eyes rake over Sirius, with his legs propped up on one arm of the couch while his head lies in Remus’ lap.

Sirius laughs, and the smile Remus gives him while he strokes his hair is so full of love. It makes you wonder if Remus thought he personally strung up all the stars in the sky or something.

You try not to let it get to you but it does anyway, that same stinging sensation in your chest, as though someone had pierced your heart.

It felt silly to feel as hurt as you did. The boys were so hopelessly in love, it was endearing. They had claimed to love you the same way too just a few weeks ago. When they first proclaimed their love, it felt surreal. Perfect. But now, it felt like a chore.

Not to you, never to you. Loving them would never feel like a chore to you, you were sure of that. But what if they felt that way? What if you were just an experiment gone wrong?

Maybe you were just overthinking the whole thing. Or maybe this relationship was a mistake.

Sirius and Remus perfectly complemented each other already, it was like Remus was a container and Sirius was water. And you were the lid that just never fit right. Remus was calm, peaceful, loving. Sirius was fun, snarky, and full of affection.

What were you? Just a random girl who had the fortune of stumbling across the lovely couple.

They hadn’t done anything in particular to upset you, they never would. But it was the way they instinctively walked closer together, their fingers interlaced. The way they glanced at each other, having silent conversations you would never understand. How they seemed to know everything about the other, from every inch of his skin to every thought in his head.

It was like they could see colours you couldn’t see, speak a language you didn’t understand.

You told yourself it was fine, they had just known each other longer. They stayed in the same dorm room and took the same classes, of course they were bound to be closer.

But wasn’t that exactly the problem? Their lives were inexplicably intertwined, and it felt like you were trying to wedge yourself in. It left you feeling like the side character in your own story.

You heard your name and snapped out of your daze, blinking as you find Sirius grinning stupidly at you from where he lazed on the sofa. His expression softens when your eyes meet his. “Love, come over here! We’ve been looking for you all day.”

That was a lie, your brain screamed at you. You spotted them chatting in lessons, eating together at the Great Hall, taking a walk in the garden. They were not looking for you, it was a lie.

Remus smiles softly, beckoning you over. You will yourself to move, to go sit with your boyfriends, but it’s like your legs have turned to stone.

You silently stand there, watching them. You try to muster a smile or open your mouth to say something. But nothing comes out except for a quiet wrangled sort of noise.

Remus looks at you strangely. Sirius frowns, his eyebrows creasing. He pushes his palms down on the couch, elbows buckling as he sits up a bit. “Y/N, baby? Why don’t you come on over?”

You watch Remus gently move his fingers to Sirius’ forehead to smoothen the lines between his eyebrows, and him turning around to give the sandy-haired boy a lovesick smile. That simple action causes the last ounce of willpower in you to break.

You clench your fists to stop your hands from trembling as you suck in a deep breath, feeling the ache in your chest start to grow. Was it jealousy? Anger? Hurt?

Sirius seemed ready to move to your side right that moment, looking utterly confused as to what was wrong. But Remus kept his hand wrapped around Sirius’ bicep, a silent order to let you be.

“Angel,” Remus breathes quietly. You visibly flinch at the term of endearment, not missing the flash of hurt across his face which he quickly replaced with his usual stoicism.

Your heart was thudding so loudly you wondered if the boys could hear it. You swallow the lump in your throat, stuck between wanting to burn the bridges between you or to walk across them.

“I…” your voice comes out scratchy as you try to explain yourself. You clear your throat, watching Sirius’s frown deepen and Remus bite his lip anxiously.

“I don’t think I want to,” you say quietly, feeling your heart sink to your stomach. You knew Remus would understand, always the perceptive one. It was obvious in the way his eyes widened and his grip on Sirius loosened.

But Sirius just tilts his head, looking at you quizzically. “Okay…? You can sit on the other couch then. You can sit anywhere you want to, love.”

You wince, glancing at Remus for help. But he’s looking at you with that sad look on his face now, the one he only wears when he sees Sirius crying after receiving a letter from home, or when you show up at Hogwarts after the holidays with bruises all over. Did it really hurt him that much?

A sigh escapes you as you decide to try to be gentle with it. That’s the least you could do, after the boys had so generously let you in on their already perfect relationship. You suck in a shaky breath, mustering the courage to croak out the words.

“It’s not about the couch, Siri. I… I mean this,” you mutter, gesturing between the three of you. Immediately, your head ducks down, scared of what you’ll find if you look back up at them.

An uncomfortable silence is cast over the room, the kind that makes your skin crawl. A beat of quietness passes before you find the strength to raise your head, peeking at the boys. Sirius looks cracked open, his face a picture of anguish.

“What?” he rasps out. Remus’ features are tight with something that looks like grief, his hand ghosting over Sirius’ ankle to provide the little comfort he can.

The croakiness of his voice makes your heart feel like it’s being cleaved in two. But you knew you had to do this. For your sake, and for theirs.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you mumble in a rush, eager to get it out and not have to endure watching them in pain for too long. Sirius stays silent, his lips pursed so tight you think he might burst into tears.

“Why?” Remus asks quietly, gaze still trained onto yours as he rubs circles onto Sirius’ ankle comfortingly. “I… I don’t fit in. You guys are perfect for each other. But I just don’t fit in,” you admit, feeling guilt clawing at you. “This just isn’t working,”

“We’ll make it work,” Sirius says immediately, and the sincerity in his voice almost makes you want to concede. But you know that’s not possible. “Just… just tell us what we’re doing wrong, we’ll fix it. I swear.”

Remus nods slowly, looking at you expectantly. The hope on their faces make you feel like the worst person in the world as you give them all you have to offer - a small shake of your head.

“But love,” Sirius murmurs, his voice cracking. “Why… what… where did we mess up?”

“It wasn’t you guys,” you say immediately, even though it was. You just can’t bear to see the pain etched on the black-haired boy’s face. “It’s just not meant to be. We’re better off as friends.”

“But we love you,” Remus speaks up quietly. Sirius nods earnestly.

“I can’t,” you say, relieved that your voice comes out evenly. It’s a miracle with how hard you’re fighting to hold back tears. “I can’t do this. The both of you are always together, and I'm not blaming you for it. It’s in your nature to be together-”

“It’s in your nature to be with us too, dove,” Sirius says, the anguish in his voice leaving to make way for pure sadness.

“It’s not,” your voice coming out as a pathetic sob. “I’m not like you guys. I’m not fun, I don’t take the same classes, I don’t ever get what you mean. We’re just not right for each other.”

You think you can see something break in Remus when you utter that last sentence. Sirius bites down on his quivering lip and wraps his arms around himself, as though physically restraining himself from pulling you into a hug.

This isn’t the first time they’ve ignored what you said, isn’t the first time they didn’t respond. It happened on a daily basis, for Merlin’s sake. But this is the only time it hurt as much as it did right now.

You glance at them one last time, heart breaking at their pained expressions. But none of them say a word as you turn around and leave the room, letting you go all too easily.

Perhaps you were just not meant to be.

Hello hellooo I LOVED your headcanons! Could you write one for reader and marauders where the reader just doesn't feel hunger and forgets to eat and drink until their vision starts darkening and the stomach hurts? Bc thats how i am fr. Just some fluff and id prefer it to be platonic but if its not thats okay too 🤞🏻 thank uuuu

ahh thank you so much lovely♡ and sure, here it is! interpret it platonically or romantically, up to you !!

headcanons of marauders x gn!reader who forgets to take care of themselves

• james would make it his mission to make sure you take care of yourself. whenever he sees you, he’ll ask you if you’ve eaten. if you haven’t, he’ll make sure you do

• he’d wake you up early every morning to go eat breakfast with him, not caring how sleepy you are

• he has a stash of your favourite snacks under his bed which he makes you eat whenever you go over to their dorm room

• he would shower you in praises when you remember to eat and drink, to the point where you’re flustered. and you don’t know whether he’s being sarcastic or not (he’s not)

• if he notices you start to black out in classes, he will lovingly force you to get out of the class and go rest (and he’ll come with you)

• sirius would drag you to the great hall to eat with him whenever possible. he would pile your plate with every type of food too, and glare at you until you finish everything on your plate

• and he’d definitely tease you about it, like “has my little mouse nibbled on her food yet?” but he’s actually kind of worried underneath the playful demeanor

• whenever you get a stomachache he would be all “I told you soooo!”

• wraps his arm around your waist and urges you to lean on him when you feel too exhausted, playfully muttering about how stubborn you are and that you need to eat more

• remus would always have snacks in his bag just for you, because he knows you’ve probably forgotten to eat again. and a thermos of tea or hot chocolate for you to drink (and for himself, obviously)

• he’d casually ask you to study with him, with the secret agenda of making sure you eat while you work

• he’d try to gently explain to you that whether hungry or not, you need to eat for your body and for energy

• if your vision starts to darken, he’ll softly talk to you to distract you and so you have something to focus on instead of passing out, giving you small sips of water

• peter would be great at noticing when you look tired, and he immediately brings you something to eat or drink without making a fuss of it

• he holds your hand when he notices your unsteadiness on your feet

Hello. I don’t really know how to do this properly

Can you make something where the reader is like two/three years younger then the marauders and like grew up next to James so he’s like her older brother type thing? Completely fine if not but this has been stuck in my head

(zero romance pls if you do pls)

thank you so much for the request!! ♡ i tried to play around with the plot a little :)

always | j.p.

tw: fluff

james potter x reader (platonic)

Your hands instinctively come up to shield your face as confetti rains down in the Great Hall for the third time that evening.

A frown settles on your face as you slowly lower your arms, feeling the split second when your hand comes into contact with a drink on the refreshments table and knocks it to the ground. A frustrated groan escapes your lips.

You flick the remnants of the drink off your hand and sigh, moving away from the table to go lean on another wall. You shuffle your way through the various couples giggling and dancing and snogging, feeling your resentment grow by the second. Once you’ve safely reached the other side of the mob in the middle of the hall, your eyes rake over the place.

As usual, Hogwarts was shimmering with splendour for the annual ball. Fairy lights adorned the ceilings, and decorated tables were laden with every type of food you could think of. The long tables in the centre had been cleared to allow for dancing, while the Weird Sisters played popular tunes at the front of the hall.

You tried not to let it get to you, but as you awkwardly shuffle around to make way for couples trying to get past you, a dull ache makes its way into your heart.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had very sweetly asked you to the school dance a couple of days ago and you had agreed. The whole evening had been spent in preparation for tonight, doing makeup with the girls and putting on your lovely dress adorned with golden butterflies. But Kingsley fell terribly ill an hour before the dance, and couldn’t muster the strength to even get out of bed.

It was unfortunate, something you were so looking forward to going wrong like this. Especially since you really really liked Kingsley.

You sigh, loneliness and embarrassment starting to get the better of you as you resign yourself to staying as an onlooker. Couples fade in and out of your vision, twirling and prancing around. A huff of resentment escapes you as you try not to glare too hard at those having fun.

Just when you stand up straight, deciding that there was no point staying, you feel a hand on your shoulder and startle. Turning around, you come face-to-face with a grinning James Potter.

“Hey Pickle. You doing good?” he asks, his smile widening as he sees the frown on your face.

That was what James had called you since you first met on the Hogwarts express years ago, a timid first-year crashing straight into the most popular third-year in the school. You bumped into him while holding a jar of pickles (god knows why), and ended up hurling them all over him. He laughed it off while you apologised incessantly and cleaned him up. He thought you were adorable.

That day, James pestered you about yourself till you snapped, and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

“No, Potty. I’m not doing good. Kingsley’s sick,” you mutter, trying to veil the hurt in your voice with anger. He lets out a sympathetic coo and softens, his hand moving down to take yours.

You sigh, your anger dissipating to leave disappointment. “I’m gonna leave,” you murmur, turning around to get to the door. But his grip on your hand remains firm. You turn back around, brows furrowed in confusion.

He's smiling at you, tugging on your hand with that mischievous James Potter twinkle in his eyes. “Come on, Pickle.”

“What?”

“Come on. One dance?”

“Jame-“

“Pickle! You’re no fun. Pleaaaaase?”

You groan, mocking reluctance as you let yourself be led by him as he pulls you to the dance floor. “I can’t dance.”

“You don’t have to, I can do it well enough for the both of us,” James grins. He wraps his arm around your waist, takes your hand in his other one.

He pokes at your hand, gesturing for you to put it on his shoulder. You sigh and do as you’re told. He gives you a small smile and you soften, unable to help smiling back in return.

As the two of you position yourself, the loud manic pop music previously playing comes to an end. A gasp escapes you, your eyes lighting up as you hear the first notes of ‘O Children’ start to play. A childhood favourite, your mum’s go-to song to sing.

James chuckles, slowly starting to sway you along to the beat.

‘Lift up your voice, lift up your voice…’

You move along with him, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm.

‘Children!...’

James’ footing is perfect, yours is haphazard. His movements are elegant, yours rusty. His dancing on beat, yours attempting to be. But the smile that graces both of your faces is the same.

‘Rejoice, rejoice…’

A giggle escapes you as he twirls you around, both of you bursting out into laughter as you trip on his shoe and your face lands smack on his chest. None of you pull away.

You stay like that for a while, your face buried in your shoulder as he holds you close. The two of you move from side to side in time with the music. You melt into his touch, feeling all your disappointment disappear as you tenderly dance to the soft tune.

“Thanks, James,” you murmur gratefully. He smiles down at you.

“Hey, none of that. You’re my Pickle - of course I had to pester you to dance, I always will,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You grin into his shoulder, playfully punching him in the stomach.

“And this song better be playing at your wedding. I need to show everyone, especially your future husband, just how much you suck at dancing.”

“James!”

He laughs, wincing as you pull away to smack him on the shoulder. He pushes you back, but catches you before you tumble to the floor. The two of you are clutching your stomachs and each other’s hands.

You and James dissolve into heaps of laughter and joy, just like you always do.

mouth wide open | s.b.

tw: major character death

post-azkaban sirius x reader

summary: your husband, sirius, is returned to you after twelve years. but at what cost?

A million different memories flash in your mind as you stare transfixed at the man in front of you - intertwining your fingers together when you first entered Hogwarts at 11. Smiling into the first kiss the two of you shared at fifteen. Being held in his arms as you sobbed into his chest when he proposed at twenty-one. Once memories to treasure had now morphed into memories to desperately grasp onto as they were snatched away from you.

“You just wait and see, love. I’ll leave you with your mouth wide open,” he used to say confidently, a grin on his face before he went and did something stupid to impress you. A small smile forms on your lips as you recall how often he claimed that in your teenage years.

It felt surreal, the moment you had dreamt of for years finally taking place right before your eyes. Twelve years, to be exact. You continue to stand there dumbly, quietly taking in his features and timeless beauty. His long, silky black hair, now unruly and messy with lack of care. His hypnotising grey eyes, now sunken and without a spark. Hey, what about that smile of his - the one which always made your heart flutter? You lock your eyes on his lips, eyes lighting up as you see the corners of his mouth tilted up in that familiar, teasing smirk. The familiar sensation of butterflies soaring in your stomach takes over your senses as you look him up and down.

Sirius Black. A name you had grown so accustomed to calling, but a name that had never left your mouth for the past twelve years. He was here now, after all this time. Sirius kept his promise - he said he would return to you, and he did. Your prayers had been answered. The world had brought your husband back to you.

But oh, how you wished he had been brought back to you alive.

“Miss?” the mortuary worker asked irritably, her voice filtering through the haze in your head, causing you to snap back to reality. “Is this your husband or not?”

You glance at her, inhaling sharply. “Yes,” you murmur, your eyes glossing over as you reach over and gently close his eyes. “This is my husband, Sirius Black.”

“Good,” she mutters to herself, scribbling something on a piece of paper before grabbing the cart carrying his dead body and wheeling it out of the mortuary. You silently watch as he leaves you again. He had left you with a broken heart, crushed soul, and true to his words - your mouth wide open.

I am BEGGING on my knees for a part two to "Meant to be" 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️

your wish is my command, sweetheart!! here is part 2. thank you guys so much for all the love on part 1 ♡

meant to be | poly!wolfstar (part 2)

part 1 | part 2

tw: angst, hurt/comfort

poly!wolfstar x reader

The chillness radiating off the wall behind you does nothing to ease your pain as you slump to the ground outside the common room.

You press your fingertips to your lips, nibbling on your nails anxiously as you feel the hot tears dribble down your cheeks.

It was over. Your relationship with Sirius and Remus was over, and it was all your fault. You had ruined it.

It had felt like the right decision two minutes ago when you were admitting your troubles in the common room. It had felt like something you had to do for the past few weeks, whenever you saw the boys together without you, whenever you felt like an extra in their relationship.

So why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in your heart? Why did it feel like your insides had just been clawed out and crushed to pieces? 

This was your doing, your choice, you told yourself. No point mourning for a relationship that was already dead. 

Maybe Sirius and Remus were bubbling with laughter and cuddling in the common room right now. You really hoped that they were glad to be rid of you, because it was worth feeling this hurt if it meant they were happy.

As your thoughts of culpability begin to consume you, your vision starts to blur with tears. You lean your head against the wall, eyes closing as a soft sob escapes your lips. 

It was dawning upon you that you really had lost the boys you loved, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You freeze, your train of thought evaporating into thin air when you suddenly feel a hand on your cheek, thumbing the tears away.

You could recognise his touch anywhere, hands calloused from animalistic tendencies but gentle as a lamb when he traced hearts on your skin.

Eyes fluttering open, you come face to face with Remus, his beautiful face scrunched up in a sullen frown. Your vision flickers over to Sirius, standing behind him.

Sirius looks unsteady on his feet, swaying slightly from side to side with bloodshot eyes and tear tracks on his cheeks. Your heart feels heavy in your chest, and you know you probably look just as bad as he does. He was gazing at you with an unfamiliar desperation in his eyes, which truly, really mortified you. And to think you thought he would be pleased with the breakup - god, you were horrible.

“Dove,” Remus breathes out in a quiet rasp, drawing your attention back to him. You will your heart to stay intact as you look into his hazel eyes, but you feel it breaking anyway. Not a single word comes out your mouth knowing full well that you would break down into a sobbing mess if you spoke. You avert your gaze and opt to stare at the ground instead.

“Hey, look at me, please,” he whispers, rubbing your cheek again with those stupidly lovely hands and looking at you with those disgustingly pretty eyes and all the love in the world that you wished that you could die. You quietly raise your head to look at Remus again, and he offers you a small, forced smile to compensate you for your effort. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs.

His hand suddenly retracts from your face, and you hate to admit it but you miss his warmth immediately. His eyes widen slightly, and it’s like he remembered that you’re not his girl anymore. You’re not his. 

There’s a beat of sad silence as all of you sit with the fact that things weren’t the same as they used to be, maybe they never would be.

“Y/n,” Sirius croaks out, breaking the silence as you whip your head up to look at his grief-stricken face. It’s not so much the brokenness of his voice as the fact that he isn’t trying to hide it which hurts your heart. “Can we… can we please just talk this out? Please?”

He takes a small wobbly step toward you, extending his hand. You feel the sirens in your head start to sound loudly. Should you give him your hand? Should you give him your heart again?

You despise the feeling of longing which immediately strikes you. The desire to feel Sirius’ fingers intertwined with yours again, the wish to hold him in your arms, the need to wipe those tears from his lovely face. You wished things to be as they once were, his arms around your waist and lips on your forehead. Remus’ head on your lap as you combed your fingers through his hair, eyes fleetingly meeting before smiles full of love were passed around. It wasn’t just a relationship, it was a home. It was achingly sacred.

That home was broken, tarnished. Maybe it had been broken since the day you fell in love with them. Maybe it had been torn apart when they carried their relationship along without you. Or maybe you had ruined it when you told them you wanted no part in this affair anymore.

But if there was one thing you knew, it was that things that were broken could be fixed. You knew this fact like the back of your hand, from the countless times Remus had uttered those exact words to you when you were dissolving into a mess of tears and panic. You knew the words from when Sirius murmured them softly in your ear, stroking your hair as you sobbed yourself half to death. When you were trapped under the debris of problems that was your life, broken and scarred, they had pulled you out. They had fixed you.

Undeniably, Sirius and Remus had made their fair share of mistakes, unintentionally shunning you from the best parts of their relationship. They had torn your heart apart, but they fixed it up every single time they kissed you or smiled at you like you were the most precious thing in the world. Those fleeting moments had made all the hurt seem like nothing.

So who were you to deny the boys your affection? Even when they made mistakes, it was okay; because they loved you, and that was enough. You knew they might stumble and they may mess things up, but they would always get back up and take your hand. The sheer force of their love would be enough to overcome their shortcomings, you were sure of it.

So when Sirius stretches out his palm towards you, you wrap your hand around his. Remus watches on quietly, wide eyes darting between the both of you. 

Sirius’ face lights up immediately, a hint of relief in his eyes. It looks like all the tension has left his features as he gives you a small grin. Your lips curve upwards in a soft smile.

“Yeah, I think… I think we can talk about it. I’m sorry for just walking out on you guys like that.”

“No, angel,” Remus retorts immediately, standing up and wrapping an arm around your waist to haul you up as well. “It’s not your fault at all. We… we screwed up, big time. We were blind to your feelings, and we’re really fucking sorry for that,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair defeatedly. 

“But we’re gonna do better. We’re gonna make it work,” Sirius pipes up uncharacteristically firmly, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly. Remus nods, lifting his gaze to look at you as well. “Yeah, for you. We’re gonna try harder just for you.” Seeing the determination and love on their faces involuntarily melts your heart and brings a smile to your face, a real one this time.

The hint of happiness on your face is a big enough victory for them, Sirius’ smile morphing into a usual full-blown grin, and Remus’ arm tightening around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He moves towards the common room, Sirius’ hand still tightly gripping yours.

“We’re gonna talk about it, but not after some much-deserved cuddles and hot chocolate,” Remus murmurs, a small grin gracing his face when he sees the smile on your lips. The three of you walk in that awfully awkward position, you pressed against Remus with your hand tightly gripping Sirius’.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Just like this relationship, which had its ups and downs. That was especially the case for a three-way affair, something foreign to all of you. You were bound to slip up and you were bound to make mistakes.

But you loved them, and they loved you. That was all that mattered.

Hello. I don’t really know how to do this properly

Can you make something where the reader is like two/three years younger then the marauders and like grew up next to James so he’s like her older brother type thing? Completely fine if not but this has been stuck in my head

(zero romance pls if you do pls)

thank you so much for the request!! ♡ i tried to play around with the plot a little :)

always | j.p.

tw: fluff

james potter x reader (platonic)

Your hands instinctively come up to shield your face as confetti rains down in the Great Hall for the third time that evening.

A frown settles on your face as you slowly lower your arms, feeling the split second when your hand comes into contact with a drink on the refreshments table and knocks it to the ground. A frustrated groan escapes your lips.

You flick the remnants of the drink off your hand and sigh, moving away from the table to go lean on another wall. You shuffle your way through the various couples giggling and dancing and snogging, feeling your resentment grow by the second. Once you’ve safely reached the other side of the mob in the middle of the hall, your eyes rake over the place.

As usual, Hogwarts was shimmering with splendour for the annual ball. Fairy lights adorned the ceilings, and decorated tables were laden with every type of food you could think of. The long tables in the centre had been cleared to allow for dancing, while the Weird Sisters played popular tunes at the front of the hall.

You tried not to let it get to you, but as you awkwardly shuffle around to make way for couples trying to get past you, a dull ache makes its way into your heart.

Kingsley Shacklebolt had very sweetly asked you to the school dance a couple of days ago and you had agreed. The whole evening had been spent in preparation for tonight, doing makeup with the girls and putting on your lovely dress adorned with golden butterflies. But Kingsley fell terribly ill an hour before the dance, and couldn’t muster the strength to even get out of bed.

It was unfortunate, something you were so looking forward to going wrong like this. Especially since you really really liked Kingsley.

You sigh, loneliness and embarrassment starting to get the better of you as you resign yourself to staying as an onlooker. Couples fade in and out of your vision, twirling and prancing around. A huff of resentment escapes you as you try not to glare too hard at those having fun.

Just when you stand up straight, deciding that there was no point staying, you feel a hand on your shoulder and startle. Turning around, you come face-to-face with a grinning James Potter.

“Hey Pickle. You doing good?” he asks, his smile widening as he sees the frown on your face.

That was what James had called you since you first met on the Hogwarts express years ago, a timid first-year crashing straight into the most popular third-year in the school. You bumped into him while holding a jar of pickles (god knows why), and ended up hurling them all over him. He laughed it off while you apologised incessantly and cleaned him up. He thought you were adorable.

That day, James pestered you about yourself till you snapped, and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

“No, Potty. I’m not doing good. Kingsley’s sick,” you mutter, trying to veil the hurt in your voice with anger. He lets out a sympathetic coo and softens, his hand moving down to take yours.

You sigh, your anger dissipating to leave disappointment. “I’m gonna leave,” you murmur, turning around to get to the door. But his grip on your hand remains firm. You turn back around, brows furrowed in confusion.

He's smiling at you, tugging on your hand with that mischievous James Potter twinkle in his eyes. “Come on, Pickle.”

“What?”

“Come on. One dance?”

“Jame-“

“Pickle! You’re no fun. Pleaaaaase?”

You groan, mocking reluctance as you let yourself be led by him as he pulls you to the dance floor. “I can’t dance.”

“You don’t have to, I can do it well enough for the both of us,” James grins. He wraps his arm around your waist, takes your hand in his other one.

He pokes at your hand, gesturing for you to put it on his shoulder. You sigh and do as you’re told. He gives you a small smile and you soften, unable to help smiling back in return.

As the two of you position yourself, the loud manic pop music previously playing comes to an end. A gasp escapes you, your eyes lighting up as you hear the first notes of ‘O Children’ start to play. A childhood favourite, your mum’s go-to song to sing.

James chuckles, slowly starting to sway you along to the beat.

‘Lift up your voice, lift up your voice…’

You move along with him, closing your eyes and feeling the rhythm.

‘Children!...’

James’ footing is perfect, yours is haphazard. His movements are elegant, yours rusty. His dancing on beat, yours attempting to be. But the smile that graces both of your faces is the same.

‘Rejoice, rejoice…’

A giggle escapes you as he twirls you around, both of you bursting out into laughter as you trip on his shoe and your face lands smack on his chest. None of you pull away.

You stay like that for a while, your face buried in your shoulder as he holds you close. The two of you move from side to side in time with the music. You melt into his touch, feeling all your disappointment disappear as you tenderly dance to the soft tune.

“Thanks, James,” you murmur gratefully. He smiles down at you.

“Hey, none of that. You’re my Pickle - of course I had to pester you to dance, I always will,” he chuckles, ruffling your hair. You grin into his shoulder, playfully punching him in the stomach.

“And this song better be playing at your wedding. I need to show everyone, especially your future husband, just how much you suck at dancing.”

“James!”

He laughs, wincing as you pull away to smack him on the shoulder. He pushes you back, but catches you before you tumble to the floor. The two of you are clutching your stomachs and each other’s hands.

You and James dissolve into heaps of laughter and joy, just like you always do.