Chapter Text
Strangers dance lazily around him, drunk and sleepy in a celebration that has run through to the early hours of the morning. The lights flicker in time to the music, smoke billows around them and he faintly hears the sound of laughter over the obnoxious playing of Wizard Pop.
He hates this place. But he loves the reason that brought his team here.
Puddlemere United. Quarter-finalists in the British and Irish League Cup for the first time in ten years. And the first time in his Quidditch career, of course.
And, finally giving him the opportunity to potentially face the Tutshill Tornadoes and the Wimbourne Wasps in a knockout contest. Those two teams have held the top spots for long enough, James thinks, and this might be the opportunity they need to humble them. And that’s definitely not because he’s a sore loser…
James stands close to the bar, keeping an eye on his best friend. Sirius moves to the music like he’s in a trance, blissfully unaware of the attention he’s dragging to himself despite losing his usual charm. He’s the hero of the night, scoring a final goal just seconds before the snitch was caught and placing them 10 points ahead of the Appleby Arrows, so he’s letting him enjoy the glory in his own way.
But James has lost track of the other members of Puddlemere United and Sirius needs to go home before he throws up on unsuspecting dancers.
He swims through the crowd, not resisting a laugh when Padfoot spots him and smiles brightly.
“Prongs!” he greets, flinging himself forward and wrapping his arms around his neck, “Prongs, I’ve missed you!”
“You saw me two minutes ago,” James reminds him fondly, using the sudden leverage he has on him to lead him away from everyone and towards the exit of the pub.
Sirius tilts his head up, grinning, “Too long! Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you back home,” he tells him, moving him around to keep one arm tight on his waist and using the other to open the door, carrying them into the empty street of Diagon Alley.
‘Home’ being the Potter manor, passed down to him from Fleamont and Euphemia after they retired. It speaks volumes on their codependence that the Marauders went straight from the Gryffindor dormitory to taking up space in James’ inherited house, but James enjoys the company.
They’ll be pulled in different directions one day, but there’s no rush.
“I miss Moony,” Sirius says loudly, which makes James chuckle, “Was he there today?”
“Yeah, Padfoot. He was there.”
“Did he see? Did he cheer me on?”
“Course he did,”
“Course he did!” Sirius repeats proudly, tripping over his feet.
The action itself seems to have spurred something in Padfoot because he pauses, free hand moving to clutch his stomach and his face draining of colour. His grip on James gets tighter briefly as he moves to burrow his head into his chest. Distantly, James thinks he hears a click of a camera and moves to shield Sirius from sight of the main alley.
Damn paparazzi.
Sirius groans at the movement, knuckles turning white from the grip on his shirt.
He mumbles, “Feel ill,”
“Unsurprising,” James says gently, stroking his hair, “I think you consumed your body weight in Firewhiskey,”
“Did I look good doing it?”
“You always look good, Padfoot.”
His friend chuckles weakly, “Not gonna look good when I puke it all up,” he says, pulling back and holding out his wrist, “Tie my hair back?”
James takes the band from his wrist and does as he’s told, a little awkwardly considering the angle. But it’ll be fun to tease Sirius about what shade of green he changes to when he’s ill.
Sirius makes an appreciative noise when he’s done and pushes himself back further on unsteady feet.
“I’ll be right back,” he says, gesturing to a darkened alcove which James has a feeling will be Sirius’ version of a toilet bowl for the foreseeable future.
James nods and turns away, walking to a nearby wall and leaning against it. To his credit, his nose only slightly wrinkles in disgust when he hears the sounds of retching.
He takes the opportunity to look down Diagon Alley. It’s mostly deserted, but there are a few stragglers lingering. Some Arrow fans are drunkenly moping outside Ollivanders, but they have friends with Puddlemere shirts kneeling beside them to look after them. Celebration from the Leaky Cauldron has created a group of social smokers, loudly talking about Ministry nonsense that James doesn’t have the patience to understand.
A part of him is searching for the photographer that he suspects is following them, looking for an extra scoop to post on their gossip tabloid. An unfortunate side effect of being part of a renowned team is the fame. He loves the recognition, but it’s still a little bit too much for him sometimes.
His attention is dragged away from his search when he hears footsteps approaching.
Followed by the familiar voice that makes his heart race.
“Well, that’s unpleasant,”
James holds his breath as he glances over, wills himself to keep some sort of composure. He can only hope that he doesn’t let his smitten expression show, let his eyes soften and let a smile cross his features just by being in the company of his longest standing crush.
It’s a foolish battle. He’s gone the moment their eyes meet.
“Hello, Regulus,”
The younger man just raises an eyebrow, looking as unimpressed by his existence as he always is. James wonders if he should talk to someone about his attraction to those so keen on belittling him – but it’s hard not to be drawn to Regulus.
No matter how many dates he goes on or where his life leads him, he always ends up right back here.
Pathetically pining over his best friends little brother.
Regulus looks past him and towards Sirius’ hidden corner, “Is he alright?”
“Yeah,” he reassures, “Just got overexcited in his celebration. He’s the victor of the night, after all.”
“I know, I was there,” Regulus says, gesturing down to his clothing.
James hesitates to look at him properly, lest his crush be even more obvious. After all, even when he scowls and looks as though he’d rather be anywhere else, Regulus is lovely beyond measure. It’s an unfortunate fact that James has grown up with. Not seeing him everyday has eased the aching in his chest, has made it easier to pretend. It’s not as simple when he’s standing in front of him.
After a moment, he looks down at his attire.
Regulus is wearing the Puddlemere United kit and James idly think the colours suit him better than the Montrose Magpie uniform he usually wears. The signature number stitched into the material is the one that belongs to Sirius, a showing of who he is there to cheer on. The entire outfit is practically identical to the one Sirius is wearing just a few steps away from them.
It’s eerie sometimes how similar Sirius and Regulus must look at a quick glance. Both pale and sharp, a little haughty looking. James can tell them apart easily, and anyone who knows the two is aware of the striking differences between them. But now – in the poorly lit alley at the earliest hours of the morning and wearing the exact same uniform – those differences blur just a little.
James looks back up at Regulus’ face, beaming, “You came to support us,”
“To support him,” Regulus corrects, tilting his head towards Sirius, “He’s my brother. Of course, I did. Besides, with your victory against the Arrows? That’s just another worrisome team eliminated and out of our way.”
Of course. There’s always an ulterior motive, a trait that is very common among his family.
Although, James reckons his love for his brother still trumps sports rivalries.
So he just smiles, “I see. Puts the Magpies in a good position, doesn’t it? Not a lot of threats left.”
“Well, there’s you,” he corrects bitterly and James just grins, “And obviously the Wasps and the Tornadoes.. Bastards.”
He nods in sympathy. At least it’s not just him who has such an issue with the bigger teams.
“Don’t think that’ll be a problem for much longer. I’m hearing your name whispered a lot in fear nowadays,” James tells him, “A threat – one of the most promising seekers in about two decades with your recent training.”
The other man hums, non-committal, “Is that what you think?”
“You don’t have to pretend with me, you know. You’re allowed to gloat a little that Quidditch legends are calling you a prodigy.”
Regulus looks at him, his lip twitching in what might be amusement, “And you are what your opposing teams are calling ‘a problem’. You do not hold captaincy yet you inspire loyalty in your entire team.”
“You been reading up on me, Regulus?”
“Know your enemy,”
Another retch, splatter across pavement. Regulus’ grin drops into a grimace and James looks over his shoulder to make sure Sirius is still standing upright. Poor thing. Even surrounded by darkness, he looks like a miserable mess.
“I did come over to congratulate him,” Regulus says, bringing James’ attention back to him, “But I’d rather not deal with him like this. Tell him I said well done.”
James just nods. Regulus gives him another once over before turning on his heel.
And Merlin knows what takes over him – maybe the tiniest bit of alcohol in his system or the fact that they only actually talk to one another once every two weeks – but he reaches out and wraps his fingers around Regulus’ wrist to stop him from leaving.
Regulus doesn’t struggle against his grip. In fact, he barely reacts at all. When he turns his head to look back at him, he’s completely apathetic. James hates that expression worst of all – he hates how he’s used to it.
“Your match is on Wednesday, right?” James asks, as though he doesn’t have the entire tournament memorised already.
Regulus nods.
“And then you’ll be in the quarter-final. You know, if you win.”
“If we win?” Regulus echoes.
James knows that it might have been a poor choice of words to use against the second most competitive person he knows.
He definitely did it with the purpose of riling him up.
Regulus pulls his wrist away from James then, turns his entire body to face him and steps into his space. There’s a good five inches between them but, despite Regulus being shorter, he’s far more intimidating. He doesn’t back down though – not when he has an opportunity to be this close to him. Just relishes the way Regulus’ gaze drops briefly before he looks back up and scowls.
“When we win against the Cannons, you mean.” Regulus tells him, voice low as he presses a hand against his chest, “You need to get that ego in check, Potter. We’re going to destroy you when the time comes.”
A light push. James takes a step back, smirking. He takes the threat head on.
“I look forward to it,” he says honestly, “It better be us in the finals, Reggie. Or I’ll be sorely disappointed.”
Regulus smiles, an unkind and cocky thing, before turning away again and disapparating instantly.
Just in time for Sirius to appear from the alcove and wrap himself around James’ middle again, snuggling his face into his chest. Despite him reeking of sick and booze, James helpfully holds him and lifts him up. Getting Sirius home is a priority and he’ll try to put Regulus out of his mind.
James always wakes up first in the Marauder household, despite the events of the night before.
He’s in the kitchen first thing, making breakfast, laying out the newspaper and putting on the TV. Peter is the second up, half asleep as he takes a slice of toast and reads a bit of news to keep up with current affairs. He vanishes ten minutes before Remus makes his way down; still cosy in an oversized jumper and eager to ignore him until he has at least three sips of his morning coffee.
Sirius, unless there is Quidditch training, is always the last one to be awake. Usually, James has to physically drag him out of bed when it hits 11am with no signs of him waking.
So it’s a surprise that, after such a brutal night out, James is not woken up by his natural body clock but by Sirius Black barging into his room, jumping on his bed and flinging a pillow at his face.
He hardly moves, blinking his eyes open to look at the very angry Padfoot hovering over him. He’s a bit of a mess, barely awake with remnants of last nights eyeliner smudged across his face. Subconsciously, James reaches out with his thumb to rub it away and receives a smack to the hand for his efforts.
Right. Sirius is mad at him for some reason.
“What?” he asks groggily.
Sirius scoots back and hisses, “Did you shag my little brother last night?”
I wish, he thinks. Then praises himself for being able to keep his thoughts to himself, even when he’s been so rudely awoken.
James pushes himself onto his elbows to see Remus and Peter both standing in the doorway of his room. Wormtail has his phone close to his face, scrolling through it at rapid speed. Moony seems conflicted between looking at the scene in front of him – in amusement, James might add – or paying attention to whatever Peter is so entranced at on his phone.
It takes a few seconds, and another light tap from Sirius, to realise the gravity of the accusation.
He forces himself to sit up properly, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands before giving Sirius an exhausted look, “Okay. What do you think I’ve done?”
Sirius furrows his eyebrows, impatient as always, before forcing a phone into his hand. Padfoot’s phone, James recognises. He unlocks it quickly and is immediately greeted with pictures.
Pictures of him and Regulus.
And… a picture of him and Sirius, although the latter is less clear.
The two pictures of him and Regulus are towards the end of the conversation last night, where James had clutched his wrist and Regulus had stepped up to him to threaten him vaguely. They’re smiling at each other in the picture – but the context is all wrong. Sure, James’ smile is genuine and adoring but Regulus’ is nothing but malicious.
The picture of him and Sirius? Well, Sirius is pressed into his chest – exhausted from vomiting. But his face isn’t revealed, so James can understand how it could still be confused for Regulus.
Especially as the two were wearing the exact same outfit. Damn, he knew he’d heard a photographer. He’d just forgotten all about it in the face of Regulus Black, distracting bastard that he is.
He explains this out loud (with the exception of telling Sirius about his crush, of course) and Padfoot snatches his phone back.
His eyes narrow and he holds the phone closer to his face.
“Okay,” he agrees after a moment, “Yeah. That last picture is me. Why are you two so close though?”
James sighs, “I promise, he wasn’t being very nice to me. It was a scare tactic, I think. It worked. Very unnerving,” Unnervingly beautiful, maybe.
Sirius pauses, before his face softens, “Sorry, Prongs,”
James waves his hand dismissively and yawns, “Do I need to get up and make breakfast, or can I sleep for a bit longer?”
Silence follows his ask. Sirius seems downright concerned and when James glances back over at his other two friends, they’re both scrolling through their phones. Remus is still smiling, but Peter looks a little bit frantic.
“What did I miss?” James asks, reaching for his own phone on his bedside table.
It’s Wormtail that answers, as soon as James unlocks his phone and sees an ungodly amount of notifications.
“You’re trending.”
Trending… that seems like an understatement. Especially when the first thing he sees when he opens the app is a news article along with the pictures taken last night.
Spotted! James Potter getting cosy after Puddlemere United win!
Written by Rita Skeeter
The anticipated match between Puddlemere United and Appleby Arrows landed in favour of Puddlemere last night with renowned heartthrob Chaser Sirius Black, 25, scoring the last hoop just three seconds before the snitch was caught and giving the team a ten point advantage and landing Puddlemere a space in the quarter-final of the League Cup.
Naturally, celebrations among the Puddlemere team took place well into the night at The Leaky Cauldron; to no ones surprise, fellow Chaser and Black’s best friend, James Potter, 25, was also in attendance. What may surprise many, however, is who Potter seemed to celebrate the victory with.
Readers might have to wonder if his choice in company was an act of jealousy for not getting that final goal when he seems to have spent the night with Black’s very own younger brother! (See pictures below)
Regulus Black, 24, Seeker of the Montrose Magpies, seems to have attended the game to support his sibling, sporting the Puddlemere United kit and his brothers signature number. However, it seems his interest in celebrating goes further than sibling bonding.
James Potter and Regulus Black were spotted walking side by side after presumably leaving the Leaky Cauldron together and our reporter believes they stumbled back to Potter’s residence shortly after this exchange took place. Even these cynical eyes can see the sparks flying between these two rival players.
Is there love in the air? Is this a betrayal among the Puddlemere team? Is this another distraction for the Magpies so soon after their latest controversy?
This writer hopes we learn more about this attractive couple very soon!
“Merlin,” James says once he’s finished reading, “Skeeter really lays it on thick, doesn’t she?”
Betrayal? Scandals and controversies? They were Quidditch players not reality TV stars. But it only takes a quick scroll through the app to show that, regardless of how the attention got onto them and how misconstrued it is, people have taken an extreme interest in it. In them, in him and Regulus – in him and Regulus dating.
He can’t handle this. He’s already obsessed with the man, how is he going to face him now?
Regulus is probably furious. James knows how he feels about this type of thing since Reg’s last relationship – something that broke James’ heart at the time but now seems so unimportant - burst into flames on the headlines.
They are barely civil. He doesn’t want that crashing too.
How – what is he meant to do to fix this?
He hears Remus hum, “Oh, look. You have a ship name.”
“Moony?”
“Mhm?”
“What the bloody hell is a ship name?”