Threats and Bonding
The Hogwarts kitchen was bustling with activity—pots clanged, the scent of freshly baked bread hung warm and inviting in the air, and several house-elves zipped around with the speed and efficiency of a well-oiled machine.
"Miss Hope, Miss Hope!" squeaked a particularly energetic elf with enormous, bat-like ears and an apron that was at least three sizes too big. "You is not needing to do that! You must sit!" The elf’s name was Cooky—Hope had learned that after her fourth late-night visit over the summer for cookies and warm milk.
"I’m perfectly capable of making my own eggs, Cooky," Hope insisted, nudging a pan onto the stove.
"No, no, no!" Cooky gasped as though Hope had just threatened to hex the entire kitchen staff. "It is Cooky’s job to feed Miss Hope! Cooky lives to serve!"
"That doesn’t mean I can’t fry an egg without breaking the world in two," Hope said dryly, cracking one into the sizzling pan. "I missed breakfast—and lunch. I’m starving. Just let me do this."
Another elf popped up beside her, a stout fellow with a striped tea towel around his waist. His wide, bright eyes narrowed in sheer disapproval. "Miss Hope is insulting us!" he cried, clutching his chest as though Hope had personally wounded his honor. "Miss Hope is thinking we is not doing our jobs!"
"I am not!" Hope groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just wanted breakfast, not an existential crisis."
"Existential crisis?" Cooky whispered to her companion. "Is that another way of saying 'hungry'?"
"Absolutely," Hope deadpanned, turning back to her pan.
“Miss Hope!" came a third voice—this time from a particularly feisty elf brandishing a rolling pin like a weapon. "You is putting that spatula down right now, or Tizzy will be forced to take drastic measures!"
"Drastic measures?" Hope raised a brow. "What are you gonna do—whack me with that?"
"Tizzy does not make idle threats," Tizzy warned, waving the rolling pin with terrifying intent.
Hope rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright! Fucks’s sake—you guys are intense. Fine. You win." She stepped back from the stove with her hands raised in mock surrender. "Go nuts."
The elves cheered like they had just won the Quidditch Cup, flurrying into action to prepare an absurdly elaborate spread.
"It’s just eggs," Hope muttered to herself, leaning against the counter.
"You know, if you wanted breakfast in bed, princess, all you had to do was ask."
Hope’s heart did a thoroughly annoying little flip.
"Potter," she said, exasperated, without turning around.
James Potter strolled into the kitchen, the ever-present mischievous glint in his hazel eyes. His hair—of course—was a hopeless mess, sticking up in ways that suggested he had rolled straight out of bed and decided against doing anything about it. And to make matters worse, he was wearing that stupid, cocky smile like he owned the place.
"What brings you here? Finally realized you’re not charming enough to convince the elves to do your bidding?" she quipped.
He laughed, the sound warm and easy. "You wound me, Mikaelson. I’m here to grab something for Remus—since he’s dead to the world right now after last night." He leaned casually against the counter beside her, folding his arms. "Though, I’m starting to think the real entertainment’s in watching you get bossed around by a bunch of tiny elves."
"I’m not getting bossed around," she argued, shooting him a glare.
"Really?" His gaze flicked to Tizzy, who was still holding the rolling pin like she was preparing for battle. "Because it kind of looks like you’re one wrong move away from being bludgeoned."
"It’s not my fault they’re this intense," she huffed. "I just wanted some food."
"And now you’re about to get a full-course meal," James mused, smirking. "Perks of being their favorite, I suppose."
"I am not their favorite," she grumbled.
"Princess," he said, voice dripping with amusement, "I’m watching a literal mountain of toast being made in your honor. Face it—you’ve won them over."
Hope glared at him, but the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself. "Stop calling me that."
"What, 'princess'?" His smile widened. "Can’t do that—fits you too well."
"I will stab you with a fork."
"I’d still call you princess while bleeding out," he said, grinning like he found her empty threats downright adorable.
“You couldn’t if I sowed your mouth shut.” She retorts, a smile playing on her lips.
“As long as it’s not my eyes. I’m rather fond of gazing at your other-wordly beauty.” His cheesy grin never falters.
Hope huffed out a breath, trying—and failing—to suppress the heat crawling up her neck. She couldn’t let him charm her. She couldn’t let him be this… be him. Because she knew where it would lead—hope, heartbreak, and another name to bury in the ever-growing list of people she had lost.
And yet, the way he was looking at her? It made it harder to hold onto that resolve.
"You’re insufferable," she muttered.
"And yet, here you are, sharing a kitchen with me." He tilted his head, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he knew exactly how much he was getting under her skin. "Admit it—you’d miss me if I wasn’t around."
"I wouldn’t even notice," she lied, turning back to watch the elves. They were practically falling over themselves to assemble the most extravagant breakfast plate she’d ever seen.
"Ouch," he said, mock-offended. "But you know…" He leaned in a little closer, voice dropping into that annoyingly smooth tone. "If you really wanted me gone, you wouldn’t keep finding excuses to talk to me."
“I think you’ve got us confused. You’re the one following me around like a lost puppy, Potter. Not the other way around.”
“James.”
“What?”
“I told you, this morning, to call me James.”
She can’t. James is too personal. It holds meaning. Calling him by name is admitting defeat and accepting a new person to turn into a potential grave. He doesn't deserve her mess. She can’t survive another loss. Her heart can’t take much more. Her thoughts are racing and her walls are preparing to defend against an onslaught.
“Never agreed to that, Potter.”
“Come on, Princess. What are you afraid of?” His breath hits her neck.
Hope turned to snap back, but the words tangled in her throat when she realized just how close he was. Too close. Her pulse skipped—a betrayal she hoped he didn’t notice.
"I’m not—" she started, but the elves interrupted with a triumphant cheer.
"Miss Hope’s breakfast is ready!" Cooky beamed, levitating a tray piled with eggs, toast, sausages, and something that suspiciously resembled a powdered beignet.
"Great," Hope said, relieved for the distraction. "Thanks."
She reached for the tray, only for Tizzy to swat her hand away with alarming force.
"Tizzy will carry it," the elf declared. "Miss Hope is not lifting a finger!"
James snorted, clearly trying not to laugh. "Careful, Princess—you’re looking awfully pampered right now."
"Don’t you have somewhere else to be?" she asked, exasperated.
"Nah." He grinned, trailing after her as Tizzy proudly carried her breakfast. "Why would I, when the view’s so good?"
“Mister Potter will join Miss Hope.” Tizzy declares.
“Mister Potter will take what he needs and leave.” Hope glares.
“Oh come on now, don’t tell me you don’t enjoy my company? I thought we agreed to be friends?”
“I agreed for Remus’ sake, not yours.”
“Well then, for Remus’ sake, would you care to join us for breakfast—I guess lunch now—or afternoon snack?”
“Why would I do that?”
“Cause I asked nicely?” She glares so he opts for a different approach. “And because Remus wanted to talk to you anyway. He has some questions about last night and to be fair, so do the rest of us.”
Hope’s stomach feels like it's being stabbed with her growing hunger and her energy to deny the offer is waning. She also needs to find time to go to Poppy and get some blood before the school week starts up again. It’s not like she can go to her friends after her argument with Regulus—which she is very bitter about—because he’s with them. It’d just make everything awkward. Besides, she won’t let a disagreement between her and Regulus divide the friendships they had before she arrived. It’s not fair to them and she has enough guilt without adding on to it. Maybe spending some time with the Gryffindors won’t be too terrible. She might even piss off Regulus enough by hanging with his brother. She knows it’s petty but Hope is tired of being understanding.
“Alright,” she concedes. “But only for Remus.”
He puts his hands up in surrender. “Deal! Far be it for me to think you agreed on my account.” James seems happy regardless of her reasoning so Hope decides to toy with him a little. It may be a bit cruel to make him think he has a chance but she never claimed to be the bastion of innocence. If James is led to believe she’s only toying with him then maybe he’ll stop his advances.
“Well, I’m not only agreeing because of him,” Hope smirks.
“You’re not?” HIs eyes go wide and she steps forward enough to look at him through her lashes. She shakes her head in response. “Then why else?” His voice is close to a whisper and his lips are edging on a smile. He tilts his head to the side. “Or who else, I should say.” There’s a teasing lilt in his voice.
“I didn’t want to admit it but,” they’re inches apart.
“But?” He’s full on smirking now, like he’s won whatever game he was playing in his head.
“But,” She whispers. They lock eyes—the morning sun meeting the ocean—and she hears his breath hitch. He leans forward. She wills her heart to stop pounding. His can be heard with her enhanced hearing and it could be mistaken for her own. She smiles so brightly it has his heart stuttering.
Hope abruptly turns on her heels before he can get any closer and starts walking towards Tizzy who is watching the whole exchange with curious eyes. “But Sirius has been exceedingly charming and I’d hate to miss an opportunity to get to know him better.” Hope turns back around to face James who is stuck in place, eyes dazed. “And there’s also Peter. I don’t know him much but I can tell he could be worth getting to know.” She keeps her voice light. Like she’s talking about the weather and not how James’ friends interest her more than he does.
James takes way too long to process what just happened.
Hope bites back a laugh, savoring the stunned look on James’s face. For all his bravado and charm, she’s starting to realize just how easy it is to knock him off balance—and damn, is it fun.
“You’re evil,” he mutters, glaring at her like she’s personally offended his ancestors.
“I’m practical,” she corrects, flashing him a dazzling smile. “You Gryffindors are a package deal, right? I’m just keeping my options open.”
James runs a hand through his already-messy hair, like he’s trying to shake off the blow to his ego. “Sirius,” he repeats flatly. “Really?”
“What can I say? He’s got that whole ‘bad boy with a tragic backstory’ thing going for him. Some girls find that irresistible.”
“And you?” His voice dips lower as he steps toward her, composure slipping back into place like armor. “Do you?”
She tilts her head, pretending to think it over. “Maybe,” she hums. “I guess you’ll just have to try harder if you want to keep up, Potter.”
His eyes gleam with something sharper—hungrier—but before he can respond, Tizzy clears her throat in a way that is both delicate and deeply threatening.
“Miss Hope’s food be getting cold,” the elf announces, lifting her chin. “If Mister Potter wants to flirt, he will do so while Miss Hope eats.”
“Bossy,” James mumbles under his breath.
“I like her,” Hope says brightly, shooting Tizzy a wink.
Tizzy gives a sharp nod, satisfied, and marches off to continue working. She’s carefully packaging the food so she can deliver it to wherever they end up. Which reminds her…
“So. Food. Where are we going?”
“Gryffindor common room.” He smirks.
“You’re joking,” Hope replies flatly.
“Always. But not this time.”
“Our houses hate each other. Your lions will probably start a riot as soon as I step into the tower.”
“No, they won’t.” He says matter-of-factly. She indicates for him to explain, clearly confused. “You’ve got the Evans seal of approval. You and that Rosier girl,” He smiles cockily.
“The what?”
“You, princess, managed to befriend Lily Evans. And around here that is quite a feat for a snake.”
“All I did was be nice?”
“Once again, quite a feat for a snake. Evans might as well be the Gryffindor princess.”
Hope’s mouth twitched in the barest hint of a smile, her mind already plotting. “Who’s the prince then?”
“Why me of course.” He laughs, gesturing to himself.
Hope feigns confusion. “You’re her prince?”
He shrugs, an easy grin gracing his face, “Mhm, Jealous?”
“I wouldn’t say jealous,” she starts, inching closer. “But…if you’re her prince,” His expression turns smug. “Does that mean Sirius is free?” Pure despair fell upon his face.
It was Hope’s turn to be smug.
“I’ll say it again: Evil,” he grumbles, crossing his arms.
Hope laughs freely at his expression, knowing clearly she won the last two rounds of their unspoken game. She doesn’t quite catch the triumph James quietly exudes at the sound of her laugh.
“Come on,” she says. “I’m starving.”
Hope makes her way out of the kitchen without a second glance, knowing full well James is hot on her heels. They walk in a comfortable silence before he breaks it, incapable of staying quiet for long.
“So,” he says. “Sirius and Peter, huh?”
Hope grins. “Why? Jealous?”
“Jealous?” He barks a laugh—loud and incredulous. “Of those idiots? Please.”
“Mm-hmm,” she hums skeptically. “Keep telling yourself that, Potter.”
“James,” he corrects, nudging her elbow with his. “I told you to call me James.”
“And I told you—no.”
“You’re impossible.”
“I know.”
They fall into a strangely easy rhythm as they walk, the warmth of the kitchen fading behind them. Hope keeps her expression light and teasing, but the tension thrumming beneath her skin is harder to shake. Every time he leans too close or says her name like it belongs to him, something tightens in her chest—a warning, a reminder. She can feel her walls—that were made to cement—liquifying.
This isn’t safe. He isn’t safe.
She can’t afford to let her guard down—not with him, not with anyone. Not when she knows how easily everything she cares about gets ripped away. It should be studied how her mind can go to such a dark place so quickly.
And yet…
“You know,” James says, interrupting her thoughts. “If you wanted to get to know Sirius better, I could arrange that. But I should warn you—he’s not half as charming as he thinks he is.”
“Funny, he said the same thing about you.”
His eyes narrow playfully. “You talked to him about me?”
“Relax, Potter. I was joking.”
“I’m very relaxed,” he insists, though the stiffness in his shoulders suggests otherwise.
“Sure, you are.”
“You’re the one who’s all tense,” he shoots back, leaning in just enough for her to catch the faint scent of his cologne—something warm and woodsy that makes her pulse stutter. “What’s the matter, princess? Afraid you might actually like me?”
Hope snorts, unwilling to let him win. “I’m afraid you might pass out from how much you love the sound of your own voice.”
“You’re deflecting.”
“I’m surviving.”
The words slip out before she can stop them, cutting sharper than she intended. For a moment, the cocky mask he wears so easily cracks—just a little—and there’s something softer underneath. Something real.
“I get that,” he says quietly. Too quietly. Like he might truly understand.
Hope blinks, caught off guard by his tone. But before she can respond, he’s back to grinning like nothing happened.
“Still,” he continues, sliding his hands into his pockets. “You should give me a chance.”
“And why would I do that?”
“Because,” he says, as if the answer is obvious. “I’m charming, I’m devastatingly handsome, and—” He flashes a smile that should be illegal. “—you already like me more than you want to admit.”
Her heart stumbles traitorously in her chest, but she forces herself to roll her eyes. “Keep dreaming, Potter.”
“James.”
“No.”
He laughs, full and bright, and somehow it makes the ache in her chest both better and worse. “You’ll break eventually, princess.”
“Not likely,” she says, but the words feel thinner this time—less certain.
Because the truth is, she already feels herself slipping.
And if she falls? She’s not sure she’ll survive the landing.
— — — — — —
The Gryffindor common room is everything Hope expected. Loud. Rowdy. Vibrant. Red. And, for lack of better word, homely. It’s the complete opposite of the dungeons—which is to be expected since…you know…they’re in the dungeons. But it is just as spacious as the tower. Walking in, Hope immediately clocks all the various groups. There’s a big study group with people from every year formed at the cozy seating area near the fireplace—burning red, not green. A couple of third and fourth years are teaching a crowd of first year muggles how to play exploding snaps. People are running around and having all types of fun and Hope can see a very heated chess match happening in a corner with some red-headed dude who looks about her age and a much younger girl, maybe a third year, who looks incredibly pleased with her chances of winning. But what catches her eyes and amuses her greatly is the sight of Tizzy standing on a table, once again brandishing her beloved rolling pin, and aiming it at Sirius and Peter, who are kneeling in front of her, with a glare that could most definitely kill. Off to the side, Remus is relaxing on a single seater and curled into a blanket. There’s a book on the arm of the chair which he’s seemed to have abandoned in favor of the entertainment provided for him by his best mates and a volatile elf.
Lily is also there in a similar amused state to Remus while Marlene is on the floor in front of her, doubled over in laughter.
“There’s a whole bloody tray of them!” Sirius yells.
“Yeah, she can’t possibly eat them all!” Peter backs him up on their defense. Defending what exactly? She’s about to find out.
“They were made for Miss Hope and Tizzy will not share them until Miss Hope eats!” Ahh, now it makes sense. Lovely Tizzy is protecting the beignets she made specially for Hope.
“Oh come on!” Peter pleads. “There’s enough to feed a herd of cows. Can’t you spare just one?”
“Two! He means two!” Sirius interjects.
“No!” Tizzy raises the rolling pin, prepared for battle and the boys fall back on the ground, cowering in front of the tiny elf.
“Wait! No, wait! We yield! We yield!” Peter announces while ducking to hide behind his friend. Said friend pushes away from him and lunges towards James, who is trying and failing to hold back how utterly hilarious he thinks the scene is.
“Save me Prongs! My brother in everything but blood! Defend my honor!” He practically begs.That does it for James who is quick to join Marlene in a second.
He heaves for breath. “You pissed…”
Another round of laughter.
“You pissed off the elf,”
Cue the cackling.
“Face the consequences!”
He’s a goner.
“Yeah! Take it like a man!” Marlene manages through heavy breaths.
“He already is!” Lily adds, grinning like crazy. “Overdramatic, cowering and waiting for someone else to save him.”
“Preach Lils!” The blonde yells and Sirius makes an offended noise.
Hope rolls her eyes affectionately, feeling full of an emotion she hasn’t had the pleasure of encountering for a while—content chaos.
She hasn’t seen chaos like this since her early high school years at the Salvatore school. When the school would be bustling all over but her and her friends would take up most of the main area. Kaleb would be plotting some new scheme to keep morale high in their fucked up lives. A new prank or place to sneak out to always lined up in the back of his mind. MG would attempt to play mediator and talk his best friend out of something that could get them in trouble just to get sucked into the plan and be the reason it works out better. Lizzie would have her own drama to rant about but always save space for the rumors about the inner workings of every friendship and couple—-Who cheated on who? What friendship broke up over a dude or some other stupid spat? What curse one of the covens put on a vampire out of spite or fun depending on who you ask? —any and all of the above, Lizzie would know. Josie would berate her twin about spreading lies but still ask questions to keep up with the latest gossip. It was a hard to understand dynamic but somehow it worked out alright.
Hope would help Kaleb improve his pranks for a better, more disastrous outcome. She’d goad MG into helping despite his protests then make it up to him after they get detention with late night snacks in the kitchen—fresh chocolate chip cookies with extra gooey chocolate were always their favorite that time of night. Hope’s relationship with the twins was still somewhat strained at the time but it wasn’t the worst it could’ve been. Her loner tendencies meant she picked up on the truth behind the rumors being spread cause no one paid much attention to her for a time. So, she would compare notes with Lizzie. Those moments were always filled with endless bickering but blissful peace by the end of it. Josie was easier to get along with, especially after Hope got over her crush on her. They’d spend time talking about their days. Josie would unload her stress over Lizzie’s new problems and then let Hope talk as little or as much as she wanted about her family. Then it shifted to the point where they didn’t have to talk much at all in order to enjoy each other’s company. The presence was enough.
Landon came later but he fit in perfectly after a time. All their group was missing was a cute comic book nerd who knew more about superheroes than he did people. It was an interesting shift in dynamic. Kaleb, MG, and him became something akin to family—-brothers—and protected each other as such. Lizzie’s default setting was to make fun of him every chance she got for being a nerd but always matched him phrase for phrase at his comic book jokes. Josie, on the other hand, was always her amazingly pleasant self and her kindness reached Landon in plenty of ways—which was made evident when they started dating after Hope threw herself into the Malivore pit.
But despite that, he always found his way back to her—until he didn’t.
Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Hope pushes down all the darkness surrounding her past and tries to focus on the good. But even that is beginning to weigh on her in the form of regret.
She makes her way over to the food and fixes two plates—one for herself and one for Remus who looks sickly laying on the sofa. Their plates are piled high with eggs, toast, and crispy bacon. She adds a beignet for both of them. Handing him his plate, he nods in thanks, and she plops down on the floor in front his seat, resting her back on the arm of it. They sit content for all three seconds, enjoying their well-earned meal, before…
“How come he gets to have one and we don’t?” Sirius asks Tizzy who finally looks satisfied watching Hope begin to eat. Hope shrugs in response to him, too busy devouring her food.
The elf’s expression quickly turns back into a glare and the infamous rolling pin is pointed back at Sirius who had the right idea to look a little fearful. “Miss Hope can give her treats to who ever Miss Hope likes. If Miss Hope does not like the messy boy who smells like a wet dog then he shall not get Miss Hope’s treats!” Tizzy berates the poor boy.
“Miss Hope does too like me!” Sirius turns to her. “Tell her Hope,” he pleads.
“Does Miss Hope wish to share her treats with the foul smelling wizard?” Tizzy asks sweetly, a far cry from her earlier, sharper tone.
Hope thinks to herself for a moment, weighing her options. “I want to say no just to see what she’ll do to him.”
“Hey!”
That earns another round of laughter.
“Then it’s settled. You will not touch them unless Miss Hope allows it.” And with that, Tizzy pops out of the common room, taking her weapon of choice with her. Sirius grumbles and goes to sit down on the couch where James and Peter had settled across from Hope and Remus.
“So Hope,” Marlene starts. “What are you doing in our common room? Couldn’t get enough of me?” She teases.
“I could never get enough of you. You’ve left me insatiable, Mckinnon.” Hope sighs wistfully.
“She tends to have that effect on people,” Lily informs, smiling down at her friend who grins.
“Uh,” Sirius looks between Hope and Marlene. “When did this happen?”
“Yesterday.” Hope tells him, digging into her eggs. “Pandora and I took them to feed the thestrals.”
“Those horrid looking horses that pull the carriages?” Sirius exclaims.
Lily rolls her eyes. “They’re not horrid, Sirius. Just misunderstood and if you took the time to get to know them then you’d see how sweet they are.”
He gives her an incredulous look. “I don’t want to get to know a bunch of dead horses.”
Hope laughs to herself. “You sound like Evan.”
“Rosier?” James asks, pulling himself into the conversation.
“Yeah, he doesn’t have the best relationship with thestrals unlike Pandora who loves them.”
“Speaking of Pandora,” Lily cuts off any reply from James. “Do you know where she is, Hope?”
“Last I checked she was talking to the Baron about his take on the afterlife,” Hope shrugs. “But if she’s not with him, check the greenhouses.”
“How does one casually ask a ghost about their opinion on death?” Peter chimes looking utterly confused.
“It’s the Rosier girl, you know her reputation for being a little crazy.”
Hope pulls out her wand and shoots a stinging hex at James that sends him tumbling on the ground.
“Ow! Bloody hell woman, what was that for?” He yells.
“Pandora is not crazy, she is a very lovely person who anyone would be proud to call a friend. Call her names again and I’ll paint your dorm a new shade of crimson.” Hope bites out and promptly returns to her food.
“I didn’t state my own opinion of her,” he defends. “Just her reputation. That did not deserve a death threat.”
“Yes, it did.” She replies, not giving him a glance.
“Anyway,” Lily steers away from the conversation. “I’m going to find her. Marls you wanna come?”
“Not really. She seems nice enough but I don’t think I have the mental capacity to keep up with her.
“Fair.”
“I’m going to find Dorcas.”
The two take their leave—after Marlene throws a wink towards Hope who grins back at her—so it's just Hope and the boys left in the circle of people.
“Well, now that they’re gone,” Sirius pops a grape in his mouth from the mountain of food. “Let’s get down to business.” He throws up a strong muffling charm so no one can listen in on them.
“Oh yeah,” Hope turns to Remus. “Potter said you wanted to talk to me.”
Remus has kept very quiet since she stepped foot in the common room and rightfully so. He looks dreadful which gives Hope a pause as she truly takes him in for the first time. If she didn’t know otherwise, she’d think he’s on his deathbed.
“Why do you look like death?” She blurts out before Remus could respond to her earlier statement.
“Why do you not?” He grumbles.
“Why would I?”
“Full moon, remember?”
Hope scoffs, crossing her arms. “Oh, please. You don’t see me looking like a corpse after a full moon.”
Remus gives her a flat look. “That’s because you weren’t the one getting torn apart from the inside out last night.”
“Well, no, but I was out there dealing with it,” she says, tilting her head. “And I still managed to wake up looking fantastic.” She flips her hair for emphasis.
“You’re insufferable,” he mutters, rubbing his temples like just existing in the same room as her is giving him a headache.
“And yet, here you are, desperate to talk to me.”
“Desperate?” He lets out a dry laugh. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“You practically summoned me, Lupin. I feel like a whole royal envoy should’ve escorted me here with how important this apparently is.”
“You were in the kitchen stuffing your face. I did you a favor.”
“Excuse me for eating, Mister Self-Sacrificing Werewolf,” she says, flopping dramatically onto the couch next to him Lily was previously occupying. “Some of us actually enjoy consuming meals instead of brooding over them.”
“I do not brood over meals.”
“Really?” She gestures to the plate in front of him, which he’s been pushing around with his fork without taking a single bite.
Remus glares at her, defeated, before sighing and actually taking a bite. “Happy now?”
“Ecstatic,” she grins.
— — —
Watching Remus and Hope bicker was not something James expected when he invited Hope to the common room. He expected her visit to go more like so:
- James charms Hope on the way to the tower.
- Hope swoons by the time they reach the portrait.
- He serenades her with the Fat Lady as his backup singer.
- His friends adore her.
- They share their witty banter for so long it makes his friends give up and leave.
- The two of them confess their feelings and live happily ever after.
To be fair, those expectations were a tad ridiculous—okay maybe more than a tad. But in his defence, James is every bit the hopeless romantic his parents raised him to be. And if romance is found within a fiery werewolf alpha who insults, teases, and bruises his ego at every turn? Well, then. He’ll just have to make do.
“Good. Now, can we talk about what happened last night?” Remus cuts into James’ thoughts.
Hope shrugs, leaning back. “Sure. What do you wanna know?”
“Well, for starters—” Remus levels her with a sharp look, “—how in Merlin’s name did you not get thrown halfway across the forest?”
She blinks. “I’m sorry?”
“You pinned me, Hope,” he says, exasperated. “You stopped me. Mid-rampage. No one’s ever done that before. And you didn’t even need to touch me to do it.”
“I told you last night, I’m an alpha.” She shrugs, unbothered.
“Yeah that didn’t really explain a whole lot.” Sirius points out.
“Never mind that,” Peter cuts in. “I wanna know why she’s not in the same state as Remus. We’ve spent the last seven years looking after him cause of how he gets around full moons and now she comes along, looking perfectly fine after one. How is it that happens?”
He makes a good point, James thinks. Sirius seems to share the same thoughts but Hope looks mildly uncomfortable. Remus is completely out of it again, however, and is back to messing around with his food.
“I’ve made peace with my wolf,” she states. “Remus is still at war with his. Until he fixes that, he’ll end up looking like shit around every full moon.”
Makes sense.
Sirius raises an eyebrow. “That easy, huh? Just a little heart-to-heart with the big bad wolf and suddenly full moons are a walk in the park?”
Hope snorts. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous.”
“That’s because it is ridiculous,” Remus mutters. “You make it sound like I can just—just negotiate with it.”
“Him.” She corrects. “And not negotiate. Accept. The more you fight him, the worse it’ll feel.”
James watches as Remus frowns, clearly turning her words over in his head. It’s rare for anyone to get through to him when it comes to his wolf, but Hope does it like it’s second nature. And that—that—is ridiculously attractive.
Sirius, ever the skeptic, leans forward. “So, what, you just decided not to let it control you?”
Hope meets his gaze with that signature smirk that drives James mad. “It’s all about control, Black. You lot should know a thing or two about that.”
Peter frowns. “You didn’t even shift, though. You just—stared at him, and he stopped.”
James remembers that moment vividly—the chaos, the growling, the moment Remus lunged, and then—nothing. Just silence and stillness as Hope stood her ground and met the beast’s gaze.
It was… unsettling. And bloody brilliant.
“Alpha status,” Hope says simply, popping a grape into her mouth.
“Yeah, yeah, you keep saying that, but I’ve heard of alphas before in other packs,” Sirius argues. “They’re strong, sure, but not that strong.”
Hope just shrugs again, the picture of nonchalance. “Guess I’m just special.”
James sighs, utterly besotted. “You are special.”
Hope turns to him with a bemused smile. “Aw, Potter, are you swooning again?”
“I don’t swoon.”
“You absolutely swoon,” Peter interjects.
“I do not swoon!”
Remus sighs. “You literally just sighed dreamily two seconds ago.”
James gapes at them. “I—no, I didn’t! That was a perfectly normal sigh!”
Hope laughs, and James swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard. “It’s okay, Potter. You can swoon. I won’t hold it against you.”
He crosses his arms, pouting. “I don’t swoon.”
Sirius claps him on the back. “And I wasn’t born from an incestuous family but sure, mate. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”
Hope shakes her head, still smiling, but James catches the way her shoulders are a little tense, how she keeps deflecting the questions rather than really answering them.
And James may be a hopeless romantic, but he’s not an idiot.
There’s something Hope isn’t telling them. And Merlin help him, but he’s going to figure out what it is.
“Wait, wait, wait.” She repeats. “Did you just say incestuous family?” Her baffled expression is one James wants to bottle up and keep in the cabinet of his mind if only to have a variety of every emotion she’s willing to show him. He could take it out and relive the moments.
“Oh yeah. Sirius’ whole family is full of inbred purebloods.” Peter chuckles.
“And that’s normal around here?”
Sirius snorts. “No, it’s fucking barmy is what it is. Why do you think I ran away?”
“You ran away?”
“Ohh, she doesn’t know the drama!” Remus is suddenly excited and looking much more alive. If there’s one thing to get him going, it’s spilling gossip to any willing ear. Maybe that’s why he and Evans get on so well.
“Baby Black didn’t tell you?” James questions.
“Baby Black?” She enunciates. “Regulus, you mean?” She scowls a little at the name.
“Yeah, my little brother.” Sirius shrugs. “Our parents are abusive arseholes who want us to live up to pureblood ideals and the standard of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.” The eye roll at his family’s title came from deep within his bones. “I couldn’t take it anymore so I ran away to Prongs’ place and have been living there for almost two years. I wanted to take Regulus but I didn’t think he’d come with me.”
“Why not?”
“Out of the two of us, he was always the most obedient and did whatever our parents commanded. No matter how much they hurt us, he would follow them without an ounce of hesitation. I was the opposite which got me into more trouble than it was worth. When they figured out the punishments didn’t work to keep me in line, they’d make Reggie suffer in my place. He always told me he didn’t mind them as long as I was safe and we had each other.” Sirius turns uncharacteristically solemn. He always does when thinking of his brother, whom he loves so much. “It worked for a while seeing as I couldn’t bear to be the reason Reggie was in pain, but I couldn’t take it anymore. I was suffocating in that house. I had to get out.” He explains it so casually like the weight of guilt and regret isn’t sitting heavy on his chest.
“Talk about a trauma dump,” Hope murmurs.
“What can I say? I’m an open book.” Sirius attempts a smirk but it lacks the usual smugness.
Hope looks lost in thought for a moment. “That’s why he hates you.” She muses.
Sirius snaps his head up sharply, coming out of his stupor. “He what? He said that. He really hates me?”
Hope’s eyes soften. Another bottle to go on his shelf. “He didn’t say it directly but the sentiment has been shown. He probably thinks you abandoned him.”
“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius takes on a pleading tone. “But I didn’t think he’d ever come with me. He was always the perfect pureblood son our parents wanted. They were probably elated when I left so they could have a more acceptable son as their heir.”
“Did,” Hope hesitates. “Did you ever ask him?”
Sirius slumps back into the couch, defeated. “No.”
The tension is palpable.
“Do you think he’d talk to me? I’ve tried ever since sixth year started but he’s been caught between ignoring and glaring at me. I’d assumed our parents did something to make him stay away but if it’s because of what you said then…maybe there’s a chance right?” His voice is so utterly hopeful, James wants to cry.
When Sirius ran away, James stayed with him all through the night as he sobbed his heart out about leaving his baby brother behind. Sirius had lived with the pain of not knowing his brother anymore and once James had explained that he’d see Regulus at school, it got him through it a bit better. But when school started, Regulus outright ignored Sirius’ attempts at conversation. The four of them had spent that entire first night in the dorm listening to Sirius rant, rage, and cry.
“I can’t really speak for him but giving up on someone never helped anyone. Especially family.” Hope answers.
“You think you could talk to him for me?”
“Uhh,” Hope winces. “I’m not exactly speaking to him right now.”
“What? Why not?”
“We got into an argument after Potter dropped me off in the common room. He was waiting there for me and wanted to know where I was. It kinda escalated from there.” She shrugs casually but James can see it bothers her. “Is there anything else you guys wanted to know about last night? I thought you had questions. Remus?” No one attempts to point out the clear deflection.
“Uhh yeah,” He shifts in his seat. “How did you get Moony to get comfortable with Padfoot? He usually stays away from them and their presence is enough to keep him calm.”
Hope blushes and James’ brain is feeling the woozy effects of fire whiskey. “I don’t think you want me to answer that right now.”
“Why not?” Peter asks. “And why did you push Prongs out of the way and make Padfoot approach him instead.”
The blush deepens. Can a person be drunk without the substance, James ponders. “That’s something I’ll answer for Remus in private.” She gives him a pointed look and side eyes Sirius causing Remus’ eyes to widen profusely. “Is that it?”
“Can I see you wolf eyes?” James leans forward excitedly, eyes wide. He’s been wanting to ask since last night and now’s as good a time as any.
“My what?” Hope lightly laughs. Can sound be bottled as well? They are wizards, so someone must have found a way, right?
“Have you no decency, Prongs?” Remus asks, looking exhausted just from the sight of his friend.
“What? It’s a harmless request she can turn down if she wants to. I mean we’ve only seen small glimpses of yours when you’re angry but if Hope can control her wolf then it’s completely reasonable to ask if she can control the eyes too.” James shrugs, trying to figure out why the question was so rude. Is it a wolf thing?
They all turn to Hope, awaiting her response. She stares back in amusement, a small smile on her lips.
“So…” Peter starts, looking just as eager as James. “Can we please? I bet it’s bloody brilliant!”
“Yeah! They’re meant to be golden right? Moony’s always are and they’re beautiful! Is it the same or do different wolves have different colors? Or does it depend on gender? Like are his gold because he’s a bloke and yours are silver or something? Ooh that’d be even better! Would they look like mine, then? Wait, does being an alpha change the color too or…”
“Sirius!” Three of the four marauders groan, all varying degrees of annoyed and entertained.
“What? I was only voicing what we were all thinking,” he grumbles, cheeks flushed.
“I can promise you, no one was thinking any of that, mate,” Peter claps him on the shoulder in false sympathy.
“And I can confidently say, my eyes aren’t silver. Though that would be cool.” Hope informs.
She turns her body away from the rest of the common room so only they can see her face. Her expression doesn’t waiver. It seems effortless, at least to James, how she calls forth whatever power it takes to let her wolf emerge in such a subtle way. Her blue eyes do indeed turn golden. In the small instances he’d seen Remus’ he’d always thought they became a lighter version of his already brown eyes but looking at Hope’s he knows that’s not the case. He expected them to look similar to his own when they’d catch in the sunlight. Brown being illuminated by some unseen force, turned honeyed and warm—but Hope's eyes aren't like that at all.
They don’t just catch the light; they hold it. The gold in them is rich and alive, glowing like embers that refuse to burn out. They remind him of something ancient and untamed, something that doesn’t just exist but commands the space it’s in. Her pupils are sharp, almost feline, but there's no malice in them, no warning like there sometimes is in Moony’s. They aren’t wild; they’re steady. Grounded. The kind of gaze that could pin a person in place without lifting a finger.
The way she’s sitting is relaxed too, one leg crossed over the other. A hand in her lap and the other resting its elbow on the arm of her chair. Her mouth curved into a satisfied smirk, taking in their reactions. The only word to describe it is, royal. He’s called her princess in a teasing way to get a rise out of her but James can easily see the truth behind the endearment. In the warm lights and bright red shades of the common room, Hope is simply sitting there; beautifully, elegantly, powerfully. Princess might not be enough. Queen is more befitting. One who deserves someone worthy of her energy. James wants to be worthy. In any way she’ll have him, he wants to be hers.
James swallows, his throat suddenly dry. He tries to think of something clever to say, something teasing, but his thoughts are tangled, looping over the same thing: she's enchanting.
“Bloody hell,” Peter whispers, breaking the spell first.
Sirius whistles low. “That’s not what I was expecting.”
Remus, for all his earlier resistance, looks just as mesmerized. Maybe even a little reverent.
Hope blinks, and the gold vanishes, her usual blue settling back in like waves smoothing over the sand. "Satisfied?" she teases.
James forces a grin, though he’s not sure he remembers how to use his face properly. "I—uh—yeah. That was… brilliant."
Hope tilts her head, studying him. "You okay, Potter?" Please, call me James. Just once so I can hear it from your lips.
Absolutely not. He is absolutely, irreversibly ruined. But he just nods, reaching for some water like it might help restart his brain. "Peachy."
Sirius snickers. "I think you broke him, Hope."
She laughs, light and easy, and James thinks if her eyes didn’t finish him off, that sound just might.
— — — — — —
Hope takes her leave soon after. The moment the portrait door swung shut behind Hope, the Marauders turned to each other with identical grins.
“Well,” Sirius clapped his hands together, rubbing them mischievously, “now that our resident mystery alpha has left the building—”
“We get back to what truly matters,” James cut in, throwing an arm around Remus dramatically. “The next great Marauders masterpiece.”
Peter perked up immediately. “Oh! Do we have ideas?”
Sirius scoffed. “Do we have ideas? Wormtail, my dear, sweet boy, when have we ever not had ideas?”
Remus raised a lazy hand. “When you two decide to sleep through class and leave all the brainstorming to me?”
James ignored him, dramatically pushing off of the couch and pacing the room with an air of a general addressing his troops. “Alright, men, we need scale. We need spectacle. We need something that will go down in Hogwarts history as—”
“The single greatest prank of all time,” Sirius finished, hopping onto the arm of the chair and spreading his arms like he was envisioning it. “Something worthy of our legacy.”
Peter nodded enthusiastically. “I vote for something with Filch.”
James snapped his fingers. “Yes. Filch is due for a little chaos.”
“Poor man nearly cried last time,” Remus mused.
“Exactly.” Sirius grinned. “The bar is high, gentlemen.”
James paused mid-pace, tapping his chin. “Alright, hear me out. What if—what if—we turn the entire Great Hall into a jungle?”
Sirius gasped. “Brilliant. We could transfigure the tables into actual trees.”
“Cover the floor in vines and moss,” Peter added, catching the excitement.
Remus sighed. “Please tell me this idea does not involve live animals—”
James grinned. “Oh, Moony. This definitely involves live animals.”
“Of course it does,” Remus muttered.
“We get Peeves to help—he’ll love the chaos. Filch will step inside and bam!” Sirius clapped. “Instant jungle. Maybe we add some enchantments to make the vines grab people—”
“Ooo, and we release howler monkeys in the rafters,” James added, eyes gleaming. “Actual ones.”
Peter giggled. “And a parrot that just screams ‘Filch smells like mildew!’ on repeat.”
Sirius doubled over laughing. “Perfect. Perfect.”
Remus pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do realize McGonagall will skin us alive for this?”
“Moony.” James slung an arm over Remus’s shoulder. “Has that ever stopped us before?”
Remus sighed, but the corner of his mouth twitched. “Unfortunately, no.”
James smirked. “Then it’s settled. Jungle prank is a go.”
They high-fived all around, already planning the logistics (which mostly involved not getting caught) before James got lost inside his head. A more common occurrence lately, the cause in which all leads to her.
Hope Mikaelson.
It had been less than a week. Less than a week. And yet, she had somehow wedged herself into his brain like a stubborn curse he didn’t want to break.
It wasn’t like Lily.
With Lily, it had been a long, slow-burning infatuation. She was perfect. Clever, fiery, untouchable. He had spent years trying to win her over. Years trying to prove himself worthy.
But Hope?
Hope was different.
Hope made his heart race in a way that felt reckless and dangerous, like flying full-speed on his broom up into the clouds with no plan on coming back down.
She challenged him. She confused him. She insulted him.
He was enamoured.
Sirius snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Oi! Earth to Prongs. You’ve got that stupid look again.”
James blinked. “What look?”
Remus groaned. “The Hope look.”
Peter snorted. “It’s getting worse.”
Sirius flopped onto the couch beside him, draping himself dramatically over James’ lap. “Tell me, James, what is it about her that’s got you acting like a lovesick fool?”
James shoved him off with a scowl. “I’m not lovesick.”
Peter nodded sagely. “Ah, so you admit to being a fool, just not a lovesick one.”
James grabbed a throw pillow and chucked it at his head.
Peter yelped. “That was uncalled for.”
“You are getting a bit ridiculous, mate.” Remus smirked.
“I am not.” James huffed.
Sirius grinned. “Really? Because I watched you daydream about her for the past five minutes while we were discussing our great and noble mission.”
James scowled. “I was thinking.”
“About Hope.”
“That’s beside the point!”
Remus leaned back, arms crossed. “So? What is the point?”
James hesitated. “I don’t know.”
And that was the truth. He didn’t know.
He had known Lily Evans for six years. He had barely known Hope Mikaelson for six days.
And yet, she had already managed to throw his whole world into chaos.
He didn’t know what to do with that.
Sirius nudged him. “Admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“That you like her.”
James scoffed. “Of course I like her. She’s… fascinating.”
Sirius smirked. “And completely out of your league.”
James shoved him off the couch.
Sirius landed on the floor with an oof before laughing. “James, mate, you’re gone.”
James ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “It’s just—she’s different.”
Peter snorted. “Yeah, we know.”
“No, I mean—” James struggled to find the words. “It’s like… I get her. And I don’t, all at once. She’s got all this darkness—and yeah, maybe that should scare me, but it doesn’t. I don’t know, it just makes me want to—”
“Fix her?” Remus asked, skeptical.
James shook his head. “No. Just… know her.”
For once, none of them had a joke.
He exhaled, staring at the flickering candlelight. “I mean, I don’t know what it is about her. I just… I feel it. Like—I can’t not notice her. The second she walks into a room, it’s like—boom.” He gestured wildly. “She’s the only thing I see.”
Remus let out a low whistle.
Peter blinked. “Merlin’s beard. He’s going to start writing sonnets soon.”
“Our very own William Shakespeare,” Remus nudged Peter with a smirk.
“O Hope, Hope! Wherefore art thou Hope?” Peter dramatically recited, swooning included and landing on top of Remus.
James goes to throw another pillow but is quickly intercepted by Sirius snatching it.
“My hero!” Remus laughs.
“You’re going to run out soon. Back to your crisis. That’s called attraction, Prongs,” Sirius said dryly.
“No, it’s more than that,” James insisted. “It’s like—she has this… gravity. And I’m just—” He gestured vaguely. “—stuck in it.”
Remus tilted his head, still smiling and now studying him. “You do realize she’s trying to push you away, right?”
James groaned. “Oh, trust me, I know. She insults me, ignores me, and actively avoids spending time alone with me. It’s maddening.”
Sirius grinned. “Sounds like true love.”
James threw another pillow at him.
Sirius dodged it easily and added it to the new growing pile of thrown pillows. “Oh, come on, Prongs, it’s hilarious.”
James just sighed, ruffling his hair. “I don’t know, lads. I just… I need to know her.”
Remus hummed. “Then figure out how to make her let you.”
James exhaled, then nodded.
He had no idea how, but if there was one thing James Potter never did—
It was give up.