Sirius & Harry: Raising him after Lily and James die, for daretobeyourselftoday.

Sirius missed a lot of things since Lily and James had died, but most of all, he missed sleeping. Harry had a tendency to wake up in the godforsaken hours of the morning, crying. He never wanted changing, or feeding, he had just woken up from his sleep and needed someone to hold him. Sirius had to wonder if babies were able to have nightmares, because that’s what it seemed like, but he really didn’t know. He didn’t know anything about what he was doing here, he had to call Moony at least once a day for help. But he was Harry’s godfather; this was something he had to do.

He supposed he wouldn’t be sleeping anyway, even if he didn’t have Harry to look after. Whether or not the kid was having bad dreams about the night his parents died, Sirius certainly was. All he ever saw in his dreams were flashes of green light and wide, staring eyes, and then he would wake up.

So like most nights, he sat on the edge of his bed with Harry cradled against his chest, rocking him gently and pressing his lips to the top of his dark haired head. The baby had fallen asleep again some minutes ago, but Sirius didn’t want to let go of him yet. He /loved/ his godson, and he knew how close he had come to losing him like he had lost Lily and James- and Peter, too, he supposed, the traitor. He liked the reassurance of holding Harry and knowing that he was still here.

Grudgingly, Sirius got up and wandered to the cot at the foot of his bed, laying Harry back down and making sure his stuffed giraffe was well within reach. He looked peaceful and untroubled, in his sleep, and Sirius breathed out grateful. He should have had his own room. Hell, he should have had somewhere to grow up that had a garden, that wasn’t just a flat. 

He should have had his parents.

Sirius didn’t have as much as they had, but goddammit, he was going to give Harry all of it. He was trying his best.

(Wolfstar. I don’t care what, First kiss, proposal, smut, whatever, just please Wolfstar. For anon, as proof that you should never ever give me creative control unless you want horrible angst.)

Remus Lupin looked around at the girls in his year at Hogwarts, and thought them stupid. They seemed to spend their entire lives chasing after boys who cared so little about them- in much the same way that James did for Lily, really, but it seemed somehow more pitiful. He watched them give their hearts away only to have their beloveds break them into pieces on the ground- not from cruelty, but from simple apathy. They weren’t loved back, and they never would be; and it simply broke them.

Remus, privately, vowed to have a relationship that would only ever be like the one his parents had. A strong couple who adored one another equally, and could get through almost anything just through the sheer love they had for each other.

Then in fifth year, he fell in love with Sirius Black.

He knew Sirius loved him, but he also knew that love was purely platonic and would never be anything else at all. They talked all the time, and Remus would smile and listen and respond and love Sirius so deeply and wholly that he thought he would break in two from the sheer force of it.

He didn’t want to love Sirius. Things would be so much easier if Remus didn’t have to hide this infernal affection from everyone, if he could meet a nice boy to go out with. He’d tried to date other people, convinced himself he loved them, but he didn’t. It was Sirius, and Sirius alone. He could never love anyone else.

Remus loved Sirius like a dying thing in the dark, lying perfectly still in the midnight gloom and listening to his breath. He loved him hopelessly, endlessly, painfully, and saw no way out of it. He wrote love letters in spiralling handwriting and never found the courage to send them, simply tying them up with metres of string. He lied to himself every hour of the day. He insisted that he was fine with things how they were, that if he could not love Sirius as a lover he would love him as a friend, and that would be fine.

Love made a liar of him, and such was the power of his passion that he didn’t care at all.

Hinny: Announcing their engagement at dinner, for anon.

"We’re getting married." Ginny beamed. She squeezed Harry’s hand, and the diamond ring on her finger glinted.

The instant reaction was a loud, surprised cheer (of a sort) that rippled around the whole dinner table. Almost immediately after, Molly burst into loud tears despite the grin on her face, causing Arthur to lean over and hug her- the balding man himself was laughing, just laughing with his eyes sparkling happily.

"Congratulations!" Percy blurted, clapping his hands together and flushing slightly. It didn’t seem like he felt truly welcome at the dinner table again yet, despite the fact everyone knew that he was.

"I swear to God, mate, you better take care of her." Ron said threateningly, and Charlie clapped a hand on his shoulder with a curt nod.

"Seconded. Give my baby sister the best wedding anyone’s ever had." He said.

"And marriage." Ron added quickly.

Across the table, George rolled his eyes somewhat dramatically, snickering.

"I’m really glad for them, too- I guess this means you won’t have to sneak around Mum and Dad so much anymore, eh?" He teased, causing Harry to go bright red while Ginny just stared him down with determined eyes, ignoring Molly’s sharp look and the way her father began spluttering.

"I’m jealous," Bill interjected quickly, trying to diffuse the situation before the joke got out of hand. "I won’t be your favourite anymore. You’ve got somebody else to protect you."

"Excuse you?" Ginny snorted, looking away from her new fiance to whirl around on Bill. "When have I ever in my life needed protecting by anyone? I’d be fine without you or Harry."

"I think it’ll probably be her who’s protecting him." George agreed with a snort, and Harry had to laugh in agreement.

All the while, the reserved chair for that forever-absent part of their family stood empty, but the sad gravity it usually had had been taken from it in the wake of such joy.

Deamus: For anon.

You’re really not going to let me in, are you?” Seamus asked, his voice coloured with amusement. He couldn’t help the smirk that curled up the corners of his mouth as he leaned his head back against the bathroom door. Dean had dashed inside the moment he’d caught even a small glimpse of him, and from all he could tell, he was resting all his weight against the wood on the other side to he could keep him out.

"Definitely not." Dean replied, and he sounded so indignant that Seamus had to laugh. He could only imagine how much that infuriated him. "It’s bad luck."

"As far as I remember, it’s only bad luck for the groom to see the bride. I don’t think either of us is a bride." He pointed out, trying to keep the laughter out of his voice.

"It still counts." Dean insisted, and then paused. "Wait. Are you sitting on the floor?"

"…I might be."

"You’ll get your tux dirty. Get up."

Seamus glanced down at himself where he was crouched on the floor. As far as he could tell, it was still only the soles of his shoes that touched the carpet of the registry office. He would still be clean and fine to go down the aisle in a few minutes, he was pretty sure.

He grinned just thinking about it. He was going to get to marry Dean. By the end of the night, he would be Mr. Finnigan-Thomas. He could smush cake into his husband’s face and try (probably fail) to carry him over the threshold of their honeymoon suite.

He really couldn’t wait. All he wanted was to see Dean- they hadn’t spent much time together in the lead up to their wedding, too busy with planning. He missed him.

"Please can I see you?" He asked, in his best puppy dog, pleading tone of voice. For a moment, he thought Dean might cave. Then,

"Forget it, Finnigan."

Wolfstar: Kissing each other’s scars, for anon.

Remus remembered, with shocking clarity, being sixteen and stupid and desperate. He remembered Sirius lying in his bed in the dormitory, the two of them hardly daring to breathe for fear of being discovered. He remembered running his fingers down Sirius’ chest, feeling the downy, dark hair that was starting to grow and marveling at how smooth and untouched it was. Sirius looked every part the aristocrat, and he had the scarless skin to show it. He had never had to suffer pain a day in his life- at least not the kind that would leave marks.

He remembered his sudden fear and nervousness, how self-conscious he’d been of the ropy white and pink lines that crisscrossed his own young body. He remembered being so scared that Sirius would be repulsed; and he remembered soft lips pressing against all of the scars he revealed when he stripped down; the murmured assurances that Remus was beautiful.

That was years ago, now, and as they lay together in Remus’ tiny bed he could see every change on Sirius’ body. He had scars now, from the war when they were still little more than children, from Azkaban and everything that had came after it.

He admired the fact that Sirius hadn’t shied away from him, that he had lain underneath Remus unapologetic and uncaring of the scars that he’d been marked with. And if the werewolf had heard a few soft, choked sobs when he pressed his lips to those faded white marks, then he didn’t say anything about it. He let Sirius kiss the tips of his fingers, and then his lips replaced the path they had taken when they were both teenagers with no idea of the plans fate had for them. It had been a long time since Remus had cared about something as silly as his scars, but he loved Sirius for finding them beautiful nonetheless.

Jily: Quidditch World Cup, for akelie.

The team they’d actually come to support hadn’t won, but that didn’t matter. Lily and James lay side by side in the hammock that they had constructed, sans magic. James had insisted that he could do it, and after about a half hour of struggling and cursing, he’d finally managed to tie the ends of sheet to the two poles he had driven into the ground and create something they could actually lie on without it collapsing. Infinitely more sensible, Sirius, Remus and Peter had retired to their tent after the game was over, but the young couple had wanted to lie together and watch the sunset. The sky was streaked with pastel colours, and it had become hard to look at the horizon without being blinded by the sun so low in the sky. Instead, they looked at each other.

Lily’s eyes were very green, James thought. Her pupils were large and dark, but that somehow emphasized their colour- they looked like emeralds. She was as beautiful to him now as she’d ever been, and he reached down to lace their fingers together. 

For the first time, they weren’t going back to Hogwarts in September. Going to see the Quidditch World Cup had been a holiday they’d taken with their friends to celebrate the end of school, a last moment of childhood before they had to grow up and become real adults. But the shouting and camaraderie and smiles of the match had let them pretend, for a while, that they didn’t have responsibilities. James had babbled excitedly about the brooms and the techniques and how much he was going to miss being on the team at school, and Lily had smiled and listened and loved him. 

She ran her hand lightly over his cheek, then, and moved to rest her head on his chest as the world grew dark around them. Tomorrow might have been uncertain, but today had been perfect.

Scorose: For anon.

"I still can’t believe you did this." Rose said with a smile, taking a bite out of the chocolate-covered strawberry she held between her fingers. She was sprawled out across the crisp white bed sheets, enjoying how soft they were.

"Well, it’s your birthday. I thought you deserved something nice." Scorpius said simply. He was sitting behind her, running his pale fingers through her red hair with a fond smile.

"It’s not my birthday yet." She pointed out, licking juice off her lips as she gazed up at him.

"I know that, but you’ll be with your family when you actually do turn seventeen. We still needed to celebrate together." He shrugged.

"And you thought that the best way would be to spend a night in a hotel? You just want to have sex, Scorpius Malfoy." She nudged him playfully.

"Be that as it may," Scorpius laughed, leaning over to kiss her forehead gently. "I also just wanted to treat you to something nice." He shifted on the bed, sitting up again and reaching over to the bottle of champagne that rested on a silver tray on the nightstand, two sparkling clear glasses beside it. Muggle hotels were a lot classier than anything the Leaky Cauldron could ever have had to offer, apparently.

"Is that you saying that I can’t treat myself?" Rose challenged, confrontational as always when it remotely looked like her independence might be being questioned. Nevertheless, she took the champagne that her boyfriend poured out for her, and they clinked their glasses together and took a simultaneous sip.

"Of course not." Scorpius replied finally, absently licking champagne from his lips where it had stuck. "I know your family have money, too, and I know you don’t need looking after. But I wanted to, just this once."

Rose smiled thinly.

"I guess I can allow that."

Wolfstar: Coming out to James, for anon.

"Please stop squirming." Remus sighed, in his best long-suffering voice. Peter liked to call it his Sirius Voice, which Remus thought was slightly unfair- he used it on all of his friends, and several people who weren’t friends at all, not just Sirius. Though he supposed that it was Sirius he was directing it at now, so maybe it was a fairer name than he thought.

"I can’t help it." Sirius muttered, drumming his fingers against his thigh. He was slouched forwards in the plush scarlet armchair, his face lined with worry. Fed up with it, Remus reached over to lace their fingers together.

"You know he’s going to be fine with it." Remus pointed out, because he did know. There was no doubt in his mind that James wouldn’t have a single issue with their relationship. He couldn’t really understand Sirius’ nerves- then again, he supposed he had always been closer to James than he himself was. Maybe that was what made it different.

"You say that, b-" Sirius broke off abruptly. He straightened up, spine going ramrod straight like a dog commanded to sit. "Here he comes." He hissed out a whisper, as if Remus hadn’t been able to tell right away from how his boyfriend had reacted.

James made a beeline for them, the smile on his face open and easygoing, his hands deep in his pockets. He looked as perfectly ruffled and casual as ever, until he noticed the terrified look on his best friend’s face.

"What’s wrong?" He asked, a frown creasing his features as he cocked his head at them.

"We’d like to tell you something." Remus said smoothly. He’d been running through phrases and lines of dialogue in his head for days, trying to decide the best way to phrase this. Apparently, he didn’t have to.

"We’re dating." Sirius blurted. "He’s my boyfriend."

James blinked at them. For a moment, he was silent. Then,

"And?"

Both Sirius and Remus gaped.

"I’m sorry?" Remus said, his voice several octaves higher than he’d intended. James just shrugged, laughing shortly.

"I already knew. I think the whole castle knew." He glanced over to the other side of the common room, where Lily Evans was sitting. "So if you’ll excuse me, I have more pressing matters to attend to. Gentlemen." He nodded once before walking away.

"Well." Remus murmured, amicably.

"I guess that’s that." Sirius finished.

Scorose: Proposal, for forgetmenotbutterfly.

Scorpius was not brave; he was confident, secure in himself, but he was not brave. He was fine with that- he was a Slytherin like the rest of his family, not a Gryffindor, and that was okay with him. He’d thought that his self-assurance alone would be enough to go through with his plan for the day, but so far, it looked like bravery was something he genuinely did need. The ring box was burning a hole in his pocket, and he kept reaching inside to flip it around and toy with it, but never actually took it out.

The sun was going down overhead now, streaking the sky with pastel oranges and pinks. Scorpius glanced over at Rose as they walked down the hill they had picnicked on after spending a day paddling in the stream- her idea of a perfect date (Scorpius’ involved more relaxation and fine dining). Time was running out. He was determined to propose to her on this day, the two year anniversary of when she had asked him out.

Eventually, Scorpius saw no other option. Romance be damned, he thrust out a hand to stop Rose in her tracks and then spun around to drop to one knee in front of her. Already, her eyes were beginning to widen in surprise as he took out the ring box and flipped it open.

The ring was an emerald rather than a diamond, glittering where it was set into the silver band. In was an heirloom, passed down through his family and slipped discreetly into his hand with a wink from his mother when he’d overhead him discussing proposing to Rose.

"Marry me." He said, and his voice came off as almost pleading rather than the cool confidence he usually exuded. But he was desperate- he adored Rose. He needed her in his life.

"How romantic." She said dryly, despite the fact she was smiling ear to ear.

"I was going to do it earlier." Scorpius insisted, and she simply laughed, beckoning him into a hug. She took the ring from him herself, sliding it onto her finger.

"Of course I will."

Remus & Lily: Obsessing over books, for anon.

For the most part, Lily made it her job to ignore the ‘Marauders’ (and what a silly, pretentious nickname that was) as best as she could- anything involving James Potter was not something she wanted to be involved with.

However, tonight, she couldn’t ignore one of their number. Remus Lupin, skinny and pale and scarred, was curled up in an armchair in the common room with a book. His friends were gathered around him, loud and annoying as usual, but he was ignoring them. Lily kept glancing at the cover of the book like she was trying to make sure she wasn’t seeing things, and eventually, wandered hesitantly over.

"Is that The Picture of Dorian Gray?" She asked, wasting no time in getting to the point. The boys on the floor had fallen quiet, and Sirius nudged James in the ribs. She steadfastly ignored them, focusing only on Remus Lupin’s green-gold eyes. He nodded, a small movement of his head that was almost imperceptible. Even with such a small confirmation, Lily beamed. "I’ve never seen anyone else read Muggle books in Hogwarts. Have you read anything else by Wilde?" Marauder or not, she wasn’t going to pass up any opportunity to talk about books.

"They’re missing out, I know." Remus responded with an enthusiasm she’d never seen him posses before. "I haven’t, but I adore this so far. It’s so subtly tragic. Do you- what else would you recommend I read?"

Lily racked her brains for more classic Gothic literature. Merlin knew she’d read enough of it.

"Frankenstein." She replied hurriedly. "And Dracula."

"I’ve read them both." Remus all but cried, jumping slightly in his seat. He was grinning so widely that it overcame his scars, making his face seem more vibrant and young than it ever had. "They’re incredible, aren’t they?"

"They’re some of my favourites." Lily agreed, clapping her hands together with a smile. "Do you want to get together after lessons tomorrow? We could talk some more, I’d love to hear about what else you’ve read."

"I would love that." Remus beamed back at her. Lily nodded once, and then turned on heel, walking away back to her chair. Behind her, she heard James say,

"The fuck was that about, Moony?"

Jily: Their first kiss in the rain, for anon.

Any other person might have hoped for better weather for their first date with a new boy, but for Lily, the heavy rain as she and James made their way back to the school from Hogsmeade was fitting. She’d been joking all day, both with her friends and her date himself, that today was the death of every one of her morals and principles, killed stone dead by James Potter’s infuriatingly attractive smirk. The rain was fitting, then, since the date itself was practically a funeral.

So she’d said. She’d actually had a remarkably good time with James, and was planning to ask him out again once they got back to the castle. The rain did seem almost romantic, though, and it had set a pleasant tone for their relationship- not once had James tried to offer her his coat, or shield her from the rain. He seemed to implicitly understand that Lily did not need to his charity or his chivalry, and she’d be fine without it.

They stopped outside the great, open doors to the castle, huddling in a corner to let people pass as they talked.

"You look like a drowned rat." Lily observed with a smirk. James’ normally messy hair was plastered flat to his head, the lenses of his glasses flecked with rain.

"You’re one to talk." James snorted, and Lily laughed in agreement. She could see the soaked strands of her hair out of the corner of her eye, turned almost black with deep streaks of ruby by the rain.

It was in the middle of her laugh that James kissed her. It was a gentle thing, where he took her chin softly between his fingers and brought their lips together, not at all the kind of passionate embrace Lily associated with romance and rainstorms. But it was pleasant, and even though his lips were cold, she kissed him back.

Drarry: Meeting the parents, for anon.

"It’ll be fine." Draco said, squeezing Harry’s hand. His voice was as smooth, smug and confident as ever, but Harry had been in love with him for long enough now to notice the small tremor in it that betrayed his own doubts. Still, the dark-haired boy remained quiet- it hadn’t seemed like Draco was finished. "And even if it isn’t, I doubt it could be worse than when I met your family."

"Nothing could be worse than that." Harry agreed with a dry laugh. Talking to the Dursleys about their relationship had been entirely Draco’s idea, and he had begun regretting it almost instantly. They’d practically fled from the house by the end of it.

"Exactly. So, just think about that." Draco said, reaching out to straighten the collar of Harry’s shirt. He’d dressed his boyfriend that morning, just to make sure that he was presentable for the Malfoys. Satisfied, he reached out to push open the double dark wood doors that led into the parlor of Malfoy Manor.

Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy sat at the table, looking stiffly composed. Narcissa forced a faint smile as they entered, but Lucius remained stoic as his son came to sit at the table, hand in hand with his long-term boyfriend.

"Mother, Father," Draco said, his thumb rubbing small, reassuring circles on the back of Harry’s hand. The tension in the air the practically palpable, with Lucius’ hands clenched tight at the edge of the table and Narcissa’s eyes darting every which way. "I’m sure you know who Harry is." His voice was stiff and cold, ready to leap to his boyfriend’s defense at the slightest hint he might need to.

"Of course we do." Narcissa simpered, smiling shakily at Harry from across the table. 

"How could we not?" Lucius muttered darkly, scowling. Under the table, hiswife smacked his leg.

"And we’re going to be nice to him." She said firmly, before turning back to the young couple with a genuine smile. "How are you, Harry?"

Wolfstar: Based on Banana Pancakes by Jack Johnson.

There was a storm brewing in the world, and a war on the horizon. Beyond the old lace curtains drawn across the windows, the glass was flecked with raindrops. The sky was grey with clouds, thunder rumbling somewhere far away.

Inside, that didn’t matter.

Inside was a tiny bedroom in an equally tiny flat, bed sheets with a sinfully low thread count messed up and thrown around, the pillows falling out of their crimson cases. It was the closed curtains and the closed door, creating an isolated little island that was all there own. It was the warmth from their bodies and the vague scent of sweat, overshadowed by the smell of baking and tea.

"I should get up." Remus murmured, his voice slightly muffled where his face was half-hidden against Sirius’ bare chest. 

"No, you shouldn’t." Sirius insisted, running his fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. There was a tray at his elbow, plates of mostly eaten pancakes balanced precariously beside a teapot and two mismatched cups. It was going to fall off at some point soon, but he couldn’t bring himself to care very much. He was determined to keep Remus exactly where he was- in bed, with him, away from work. They’d spent too much time apart lately.

"I have to go to work, Sirius."

"Moony," Sirius whined playfully, squeezing him tightly and kissing the top of his head. "Come on. I made you pancakes. One day off won’t hurt. Just stay with me." He cupped Remus’ face in his hands, tilting his head up so he could meet his eyes; they were still tired, less sharp than usual to match the vague, sleepy smile on his face. It made his scars seem radically less severe. 

"I really shouldn’t."

"You really should." He protested. "You wake up too early every morning to go to work, I’m making you take a breather."

"I’m still awake early."

"That’s not the point."

There was a storm brewing, but it couldn’t touch them in here.

(Dramione, first time meeting Scorpius. For anon.)

The first time that Hermione had seen Scorpius, she’d been so busy and concerned with seeing off Rose, watching Hugo, and then talking with her childhood friends that she hadn’t had any attention spare to pay the Malfoys. The second time, however, things weren’t so tense and new. Ron was with Rose and Hugo was at his grandparent’s house. She didn’t even think the Potters were on the platform yet.

Separated from her family by the bustling, pushing crowd on the platform, Hermione suddenly found herself standing in front of two thirds of the Malfoy family. Astoria, dark-haired and elegant, stood some distance away speaking to a girl in a green dress.

Swallowing, Hermione allowed herself to look up at Draco. His hairline was receding even further, and the youthful face she remembered was lightly lined with age. Despite no longer being the boy she’d kissed in secret corners and private rooms at Hogwarts, he was still beautiful. She wondered what it would have been like to grow old with him, rather than Ron.

"So this is Scorpius?" Hermione blurted before she could think of an appropriate greeting, looking down at the blond boy before her. He looked so much like his father, but there were shades of Astoria in him too. Hermione grimaced.

"It is." Draco nodded. Hermione looked at him, looked into his eyes, and wondered. She wondered if he was remembering what she was; their covert affair during their school days, the kissing and sex and simply sitting in one another’s arms, talking for hours. She wondered what Scorpius would look like if she was his mother; what Rose and Hugo would be if Draco was their father.

"He’s very handsome. Just like his dad." Hermione smiled a sad smile, and Draco mirrored it- or was she imagining it?

"Thank you." Draco said with another nod, resting his hands on his son’s shoulders and squeezing them lightly. He looked just as uncomfortable as Hermione felt; thinking of every would have, could have, should have.

I should have married you, not her.

Too late now.

Malfoys: Scorpius telling his parents he’s dating Lily, for anon.

Scorpius knew his parents were deeply in love- he’d always been aware of it, it was impossible not to be. They were always touching, and when he thought no one was around his father would often break his stony demeanor and grab a hold of her hands, spinning her around the room in a waltz. His mother would always be the first person to tell him that love was what mattered, more than anything.

He supposed that was supposed to mean he shouldn’t be scared about telling them he was dating Lily Potter, but he was. It was easy for his parents to claim love was what mattered when they had both married into good, Pureblooded Slytherin families, whilst Scorpius’ girlfriend was the next Gryffindor in a long line of them, with her heritage tainted by Muggle blood. The youngest Malfoy couldn’t possibly have cared less about any of that, but he didn’t know if his parents would see it the same way.

He nervously pushed open the door to the living room where they were both relaxing, wringing his hands and biting his lip. Astoria Malfoy’s legs were swung over his husband’s lap, his arm around her shoulders and their heads resting together. They looked at peace together, simply enjoying each other’s company, and Scorpius envied it. They’d never had to worry about their parents’ approval of their partners.

"Can I talk to you?" He asked quietly, glancing down at the floor. It probably would have been better if he stood tall, proud, unashamed of his choices, but he couldn’t quite manage it.

"Of course." Astoria replied, instantly moving to sit prim and properly on the sofa. Scorpius drew a shaky breath.

"I have a girlfriend." He blurted, holding up a hand as he saw his parents open their mouths to speak. "Please, hear me out. She’s not… a Slytherin. Or a Pureblood. She’s a Gryffindor. She’s Lily Potter." His words escaped all at once in a breathless rush, too frightened to pause. Silence fell over the room, and he saw his parents share a look.

To his surprise, it was Draco who spoke.

"That’s fine." He said with a firm squeeze of his wife’s hand. "I can’t pretend that I’m… ecstatic, but it’s fine, Scorpius. It really is."

The young man sighed, leaning heavily against the wall as he was overcome by a wave of relief.

Romione: Hermione watches Ron read to their children.

Kept back late at the Ministry, Hermione had fully expected her children to be fast asleep in their beds when she came through the door- her husband, too. Ron never tended to stay awake long after their children had gone to bed, even if Hermione was held up at work. His life seemed to revolve around them, put simply.

When she came through the front door, she thought at first that she’d been correct in assuming everything would be as usual. The house was dark, the lights downstairs and on the landing turned off, and the air was quiet and heavy with sleep. But then her keen eyes noticed the faint yellow light coming from upstairs and, curious, she began to ascend.

The light was coming from under the crack in Rose’s bedroom door, spilling out over the pink carpet. From inside, she could hear muffled voices- or, one voice, lilting in different pitches and imitating different accents.

The handle moved down in seamless silence as Hermione turned it, and the door opened in a similar fashion as she peered inside the room.

Rose, for all her atypical intelligence, had a bedroom like all little girls her age, pale pink with white furniture and full of toy animals and dolls. But now, the fussy little pillows and plushies which usually made their home on her bed had been relegated to the floor, to make room for something- someone- else.

Ron lay on the bed next to Rose where she was tucked under the covers in her nightgown, clinging to a toy rabbit in a ballerina dress. Next to her was Hugo, hugging his sister as she hugged her doll. There was a book on Ron’s lap, and he was reading to their children, putting on voices for all the different characters. Rose and Hugo were entranced, watching their father transform.

Smiling to herself, Hermione pulled the door closed; not wanting to intrude on that homely little scene that brought her children such joy.

Grindeldore: A pairing you think deserves recognition, for anon.

Albus didn’t think he had ever been so quiet before. Every noise he made aside from the rasp of his breathing was swallowed up and muffled by Gellert’s lips against his. His wrists had been pinned against the mattress, held there by strong, pale fingers.

"We shouldn’t." He murmured softly, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against the blond’s. He panted softly, his eyes closed so that he wouldn’t have to look at the young man above him. He could not, had never been able to, resist those eyes. "Someone will hear."

"No, they will not." Gellert almost crooned, running his thumb along Albus’ lower lip. The redhead whimpered quietly despite the softness and apparent innocence of the touch; he was too sensitive already. He wanted Gellert like he had never wanted anything, not even the vision of a perfect world that they shared. "We’re being quiet."

"It is a sin." Albus tried to change tactics, and Gellert laughed darkly.

"I do not think either of us care about sin." He kissed down the side of Albus’ neck, nipping hard at his throat. The redhead jerked, automatically pushing him back. Gellert held up his hands innocently, raising one eyebrow. God, though, he was handsome. Especially so in that moment, half-undressed and painted in shadows and moonlight. It was almost painful to look at.

"I care about you, though." Albus breathed, so quiet that he saw Gellert lean forward slightly just to hear him. "And sometimes- sometimes I do not think you feel the same." He swallowed hard as he said the words. Something dark crossed Gellert’s face, and he pushed Albus back onto the bed.

"I do." He promised. "I swear to you, Albus, I do."

There was that suspicion yet, though; the creeping fear that the sole reason Gellert took him to bed and whispered him such sweet things when no one was around to hear was an act of pretense, trying to persuade and cajole Albus to take part in his crusade.

If it was, it was working.

(Lily proposes to James, for anon.)

Lily had been convinced that James wouldn’t be able to lift her up, and he’d been determined to prove her wrong. That was how he’d ended up giving her a piggy-back up and down their living room, her laughing and squealing and clinging tight to his shoulders as she bounced up and down on his back. When his legs started to hurt he took her back to the sofa to try and persuade her to get down, but she held to him like a stubborn monkey until he simply lay down on top of her. She yelled wordlessly, joyously, and squirmed out from underneath him to lie on his chest, running her hands through his black, messy hair. 

Lily looked at James, looked into his eyes and looked at her pale fingers threading through his dark strands, and her smiled faded slightly. She recalled, for some reason, earlier that day- pulling her shoes on as she prepared to leave for work, and James handing her coat to her when she asked if he knew where it was. It was nothing special, simply another picture in the collage of domesticity that was their relationship.

For the very first time, it occurred to her that she had always known he would never leave her, but now she knew that she never wanted to leave him; this was what she wanted the rest of her life to be like. It was a frightening thought, but also one that she accepted without question. She already knew she loved James, and everything about the life they’d made together.

"Marry me?" The words slipped, unbidden from her lips and tingled there, right things said at the wrong time. 

James’ eyes widened, and he stared openly at her. Then he laughed, and kissed her, pulling her to him.

"Of course."

(Jily’s wedding with the other Marauders, for anon.)

Lily was beautiful in her long white dress, and James awkward as he twirled her around the dance floor- he could not dance, had never been able to dance, but she was laughing and smiling and he loved to see her happy as much as he loved her in general, so that lessened his embarrassment. He was happy too- it was something he hadn’t thought would ever happen, marrying Lily, but it had. There were rings on their fingers and she was Mrs. Potter. He’d never been so happy.

He pulled her close to him as he twirled her around, looking over her shoulder to take in the room. 

Sirius sat sprawled lazily in his chair, his tie already loosened and the jacket from his tuxedo missing. His wand was out, and he had a paper hovering in the air in front of him- his speech, James imagined, probably full of inappropriate yet hilarious jokes.

Sitting close beside him was Remus, who was watching the dancing wit a wistful, proud smile on his face. His scars seemed somehow less severe, kinder on his face.

Peter had made it onto the dance floor too, with Mary Macdonald. James hid a snicker- Wormtail’s dancing made his own seem a lot less terrible, and it looked like Mary was searching for an opportunity to escape.

"Eyes front. I’m here." Lily said with a laugh, turning James’ head with her hand so he found himself gazing into her vibrantly green eyes. She was still smiling.

"Sorry, Mrs. Potter. I was just seeing what our friends are up to." James smirked, and Lily laughed.

"Mrs. Potter. I can hear my eleven year old self screaming."

"Well, you’re stuck with me now." James teased, letting go of her but for one hand. She twirled around underneath his outstretched arm, forsaking grace for giddy joy.

"I like being stuck with you." Lily said as the fingers on their other hands entwined together once again.

"Good." James smiled. "This is going to be the rest of our lives, now."

"I’m looking forward to it."

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