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James Potter

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a character in “We Solemnly Swear...”, as played by ShudderFox-

Description



QUOTE



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N A M E
James Sirius Potter
"Not big shoes to fill at all."

N I C K N A M E S
Jamey || "."

A G E
18
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B L O O D S T A T U S
Half-Blood
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P A R E N T S
Harry Potter | Ginevra Weasley
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S E X U A L I T Y
bisexual
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H O U S E
Gryffindor
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A P P E A R A N C E
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You’d never mistake James Sirius for a Weasley at first glance, seeming to take everything from his mother except for her physical appearance. He’s got the telltale dark aesthetic that seems to mark a Potter. Wispy dark hair. Green eyes. Similar complexion. He’s even inherited Harry’s thin build, only standing around five-foot-nine with no real mass to him. James doesn't try particularly hard when it comes to style, usually donning a t-shirt and jeans and a uniform when necessary.



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P E R S O N A L I T Y
determined || monotropic || easy-going || positive || hardworking || brazen

The moment's that define lives aren't always loud; crude lines in the sand, the obvious trap, an official summons, a horrible accident.

Sometimes they're just ghosts.

And James has always been one for chasing. Apparitions don't question why the world around them is a mirage and he won't either, more than happy to grasp at wordless concepts he was never expected to be. Mostly in good fun. Fate gave him a family of giants and his own obsession placed him in their shadows. Comfy.

But never complacent. He learned at a young age that the way out is often in, and there's no consequence to being bull-headed so long as you wrap it up all nice. James has always had good intentions behind mossy eyes. Sometimes pushy, self-assured to the point of arrogance, teasing to the point of viciousness, but never purposefully neglectful. He's just use to holding onto anything that allows itself to be kept, and he's not always gentle or appreciative of his things.

He’s got a tendency to let anyone in, the kind of person who makes attachments effortlessly, forgiven more so on the basis of a look or a smile than any merit of his own. Still, he is his father’s son. Able to empathize rather easily and fiercely protective of anyone he loves (even if his short-sighted vision isn’t always what’s needed). James can certainly say no one has ever abandoned him and he won't be the first not to reciprocate that kindness. Truthfully, it stems more from his inability to let things go. He's not well acquainted with loss, and he's usually the one to keep returning to the person/pursuit that isn't working; always the one to try, if only to avoid the prerequisite bleach/headache combination needed to get rid of a dead thing.


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W A N D
12'' || Maple || Dragon heartstring
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S P E C I A L
Anything out of the norm
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Q U I D D I T C H
Chaser
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P E T
Moby
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P A T R O N U S
Lion
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B O G G A R T
boggart
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H I S T O R Y
James Sirius Potter grew up with a name that spoke for itself, attracting the kind of respect and admiration you only inherit when your family's in the spotlight. Not that it ever bothered him as a kid. Every question someone posed him, he’d already asked his parents a thousand times. For James, it was never a matter of shying away from the notoriety that came with having Harry Potter for a dad, or any number of equally visible cousins and friends. He leaned into the life with relative ease, snagging every perk and opportunity his upbringing afforded him while shirking off some of the less desirable expectations.

Family reputation aside, he still had a relatively normal upbringing. James spent most of his childhood following his father around to watch him work, or glued to his mother and her Quidditch. It didn't take him long to pick up the game, and his parents never tried to dissuade him once he decided that being a professional quidditch player was his only goal in life, though it was somewhat concerning to see James have such a narrow vision at a young age.

He supposes he had his mother to blame for his tenacity, always determined to get what he wanted and do as he pleased. The childlike curiosity that left him addicted to his parents' past lives never really left him. James found himself getting into anything that wasn't sealed shut, taking anything that wasn't nailed down. It started out as a means of access to his parents claim to fame, then turned into something he did just because he could. While he developed a general intrusiveness on his own, it's also safe to say there wasn't any room to be closed off or shy surrounded by the vast Weasley clan. James picked up his uncle's love for pranks and spent countless hours practicing on anyone around him.

Coming to Hogwarts wasn't anything unexpected; James stealing the Marauder's map even less so. Paired with Teddy and Scorpius' minds, it was only a matter of time before something crazy happened.





So begins...

James Potter's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Teddy Lupin Character Portrait: Lysander Scamander Character Portrait: James Potter

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On the outside the shack was about as exciting as a stale communion wafer. Just another rickety building underneath a sky slipping into black shades, covered in enough spells and charms to keep the gang's handiwork a secret.

And James couldn't wait to fucking get there. He'd spent the better part of his day trying to be just available enough to make sure none of the new kids in his house got lost or injured. Of course he'd played the monotonous 'First Day' game enough times to know it was never that simple, and First Day's certainly hadn't changed much since he'd showed up with years worth of legends built on top of his scraggly shoulders. Both completely excited and overwhelmed.

He remembered that day the way kids remember touching hot stoves; a little painful, funny to look back on, but definitely not something he'd want to do again.

Now that excitement was reserved for something else entirely. His mind torn between giving Lily as much hell as he possibly could for still needing her hand held to the platform; wanting to get so high he felt absolutely nothing below the neck ('cept for Teddy and Kins, of course, Lys if he's lucky); and the flock of baby Griffindors hounding him about the how's and why's and where's of Hogwartz. The questions never really bothered him. All par for the course given the company he kept, especially when it wasn't much of a secret as to who his mother and father were and what they'd done.

The day's never passed as quickly as the nights did, so he took the opportunity to impress some wide eyed first years with his knowledge and spread a few rumors about the shack before they could know any better. Something to do with Scorpius and hiding bodies. By the time Rose's invitations went out they'd found themselves far too cool to entertain his bullshit.

No fun.

But there was always something better around the corner if you could find it.

Said so in gold script and hurried footsteps that weren't lost on those who'd been there and done that. Sneaking out was second nature to him now. A right he obtained long before he had the permission, never lacking in excitement even after the trepidation had long since worn off. They'd covered every angle. Planned for far too many contingencies.

Not that you'd ever get the impression they'd gotten serious for once, based on the looks of things inside.

Is he late or is he early?

There’s no tellin', time immediately lost in the static of red’s and blue’s dancing behind his eyelids after he downs the first mead he can find. Bass roaring like thunder in the background. Enough smoke to drown in. It's not hard to find the younger griffindors he saw earlier; all red-rimmed eyes, dancing chest to chest, skin painted a myriad of colors in the fast-moving party lights. They call him over in a chorus of half-strung voices that sound miles away amidst the background noise.

Blunt finger nails find his skin. A hand in his hair. Teeth closing in on his ear when he can finally hear one over the music; "why aren't you highhh?"

"Cause Neo's way over thereee," he chimed back, his world reduced to a spectrum of bright colors as the drinks warmed his body up. He'd have to make the rounds and find him, kins, rose and jun later, immediately distracted by Lys' giraffe body over by Teddy and a quidditch bag full of drugs.

James floats through the crowd, all hard grips and loaded veins when he finally makes it over to his friends. Presses his face into Teddy's neck in a hug, ignores the nagging thought that tells him to split his skin with his teeth. "Hey, Lys," he grins after pulling away.

"Been waiting all day to see yall."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Teddy Lupin Character Portrait: Lysander Scamander Character Portrait: James Potter

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#, as written by Ivisbo
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They were all such gluttons.

He was laughing by the time the bar was full of people, the magically induced euphoria kicking in quickly. He took another three for good measure, sliding that honey warm liquid down his open throat like a pro.

People were talking to him. Their voices came in like static through a TV, he was aware of his name paired with the different names of the drugs in front of him, but he didn’t care to get more information.

“Everyone’s yelling at once...” He mumbled softly. Far too softly for the crowd to hear. He grinned at someone that grabbed a pile of giggle water shots, his eyes glassy and happy and so far away.

Something cute and yellow popped into his vision and he instantly thought of sunflowers. Which made him think of that field on the way to Hogwarts, which made him think of the Express and how awesome trains are. He fucking loved trains, kind of wanted to live on one someday-

“Teddy!”

That was his name. Loud and clear. He could hear it through that warm tingling static. Oh.

Teddy glanced to his right and encountered Lysander, strung up over his shoulder like he belonged there. Well, he fucking did belong there, especially with all those dimples and smiling eyes.

He’d been asked a question, he was aware only because Lys was staring at him with his eyebrows raised and his mouth slightly open. Teddy let his eyes wander away from molten brown to soft pink, parted in a way that made him want to take advantage. Slid his tongue across them and feel hot breath against his.

“What was that?” Teddy’s voice sounded far away, but apparently not far enough for Lysander. The kid repeated his question, this time with a little quirk to his lips that made Teddy want to grab his face roughly. There was a lot of people around and he wasn’t sure Lys wanted that at the moment.

“Oh Lys” He purred, sliding his arm around a thin waist and tugging him closer, “Literally anything for you. Take your pick”. Teddy grabbed a couple different packets of pixie dust and pushed them into his companion’s hand, then untangled himself before he got too caught up. He wanted to tie himself up in that for the rest of the night, but it was still hour one and he had to make sure everyone was good and fucked before he got to do just that.

Some students felt comfortable enough to just grab and go, veterans of the practice. A couple stood their awkwardly, unsure what was safe, and it required Teddy to put on his warmest smile and explain that he wouldn’t provide anything unsafe.

”Live free, pick whatever you want.” If you feel nasty come let him know. But he promised everything would make you feel gooooood.

He’d wink, smile, toss a shot back with anyone that was still nervous. He was determined to get the entire party high tonight, one way or the other. If it required him being dragged back to the castle by Kingsley, James, or Scor, well be it.

Time came back to him when a familiar weight slid against his body. He was pulled away from the bar he’d been heavily leaning on and felt a warm chest on his back. Breath near his ear, hair tickling his face, arms wrapped around him in a way that made him feel comfortable and antsy all at the same time. Ted leaned back and grinned from ear to ear, a fresh wash of honey sliding through him from the warmth.

”Hey Lys” James voice was loud in his ear, drowning out the party. Ted remembered Lysander had been here (had that only been a moment ago?) and glanced sidelong at the small blonde. He saw him, but his brain was still all wrapped up in the body against his back that he didn’t really register. It wasn’t until James started pulling back that Teddy frowned.

Such a fucking tease.

“Here” Teddy grabs two vials of euphoria, turning his back to the bar to face James. He hands one to his best friend and grins, uncorking the other, “To the beginning of the end?”

“Beginning of the end,” James echoes, his voice a faraway dream. It hits Teddy that this was their last year, end of all this insanity and the beginning of reality. But for now, he could ignore that.

They knock back and Teddy’s mind rushes away from thoughts of Hogwarts. The euphoria hits James like the first shot of gin and a burst of happiness has James’s mind doing flips. Suddenly hyper-aware of the dozens of people moving around them, the music blasting in their ears, alcohol and weed smoke filling the air.

“Damn,” James laughs, tossing the vial onto the counter behind his lanky friend, “You didn’t even make me beg for it this time.”

Ted wanted to say something cool. He was all revved to go on their usual back and forth, but he was already six vials deep and feeling it hard. So, instead, he giggled madly and slid down the cabinet of the bar, throwing his full weight onto his knees.

“Oh mate, the image you of begging...” he let out a gust of air, his hair falling in his face in a wild way and streaming highlights of red sliding through his locks to frame a feral grin, “Don’t tempt me”

“Ok,” James hums, chest tight from holding back a laugh. It’s hard to be good when Ted’s voice takes on that narcotic stilt that he likes, already on his knees like they hadn’t gone through that scenario a couple times over.

James shouldn’t be enjoying this as much as he is. Or maybe he should. He’s high. James slides down next to his friend, runs a hand along the back of his neck until it's buried in Teddy’s crimson hair. Ted's shirt kinda smells like moondew and has his mind wondering. What if he just kissed him? The sweat pooling at the base of his neck is inviting enough.

James grips a little tighter, turning Ted’s head until they’re facing each other.

Teddy’s face withers a bit. Fuck, his hair was his weak spot, especially when someone throws a bit of force into. A little mental chant of pull harder, pull harder, pull harder starts up as he stares James down with burning green eyes.

James gaze was equally as intense and Teddy was captivated.... but not enough to stop his eyes from slipping down to his friend's mouth as he spoke.

“Not tempting you, am I?”

He swallowed, wished he hadn’t cause he looked so weak right now and looked back up quickly with a mild shake of his head.

“Your gonna have to try harder than that”

“Yeah?” James nods. All slow like. That raw, searching look to Ted’s face slits him open like a razor, and he doesn’t miss the way sharp green eyes meet his own.

James let’s go of his hair and wraps a hand around his neck instead. Shoves Teddy onto his ass, back pressed against the counter. He can’t help the smirk that creeps up as his thumb draws lazy circles around an artery, way to intrigued by the way the kids pulse quickens beneath his grip. “You want it harder, Teds?”

James was blocking out any lights, a looming silhouette of pure black. Teddy swallowed, the movement exaggerated by the grip around his throat.

Had there ever been a more erotic thing said? Teddy let slip a little grunt of pleasure and reached, grabbing fabric and tugging the black silhouette to him. He blindly gripped James jaw, forcing his face till they were breathing the same air. He couldn’t make out much, but he stared where he thought James eyes were. “Alright. Your move”

Something about the thrum of the music over the counter and hot breath on his face was making him want to play this game, even though he knew it was only going to end one way. James was so good at getting him to do whatever he wanted.

Teddy’s words barely register past the buzzing in Jame’s ears, the kind of feeling you can’t make sense of but you know it by its absence. _His move_. His way. It’s all he needs to hear, really. The hard floor feels like hell against his knees when James climbs on top, his vision going black around the edges when Ted’s shirt rides up and exposes the smooth skin underneath. Harder. The kid wants it harder.

Ted’s grip is strong enough to leave bruises and the anticipation has James’ heart hammering inside his chest, all too reminiscent of the way things usually are; James blurry eyed and pining after the liquors got him all too fucked up. He could get used to this, though. Tears Ted’s hand away from his face and closes the gap between them without missing a beat.

Then James’ mouth is on him. Biting. A mess of nails, teeth, and aggression, as if he’d lost the last shreds of his decency and the only place left to look was Ted’s mouth. Under his shirt. Against his neck. James’ whole body lights up from the search.




Thank ya Shud. This is a compilation of our words

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Teddy Lupin Character Portrait: Lysander Scamander Character Portrait: James Potter

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Lys hadn't realised how much he'd been craving, how much he needed that contact, until Teddy slid an arm around his waist. He shoved something into Lys' hand, and then he was gone again, slipping away from Lys' arm to reassure somebody that it was safe, that it was all fine. Sometimes sober Lys had the sense to question it, but sometimes, he just needed a little... anaesthesia. A little distraction. A little freedom.

At first, he didn't even feel the pixie dust hit. He got distracted, a pretty face luring him away to dance to the pounding beats, another pretty face distracting him for a second, hands on his waist, his arms, around his shoulder. His world was a haze before he even knew it, too gradual for him to notice. And once he did, well, he was too gone to care.

He stumbled back towards the bar, having slipped his other packets of pixie dust to strangers, to friends, to whoever the hell he encountered because was there even a difference in a place like this? He was ready to go beg Teddy for more. He didn't want this to fade because damn.

James and Teddy. He'd looking at it for a few seconds before he even really processes what's going on. And then a jumble of feelings, ones that blur together like bleeding colours on paper. There's jealousy, but what place does that have here? There's confusion, there's a weird desire, there's just... who cares? Apathy but in the best way, taking the edge away from the negative emotions and enhancing the good ones, the pounding in his veins. He wants to say something, but out of nowhere, everything hits him again, making him a little dizzy and making him stumble towards them. Not intentionally. He knows he should say something, knows he should do something, but he can't quite get the words out, can't quite get the thoughts to line up right. So he just catches himself on the bar, for the first time wondering if maybe he should take it easy. But those thoughts don't line up quite right other, especially when he sees James and Teddy again, and now he just stares and doesn't dwell on the thoughts in his head.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Louis Weasley Character Portrait: Scorpius Malfoy Character Portrait: Teddy Lupin Character Portrait: James Potter Character Portrait: Sirius Orion Black Character Portrait: Piper Leilani Longbottom Character Portrait: Albus Severus Potter

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One of the most important things that anyone had to know about Albus Severus Potter was that although he did not partake in the drugs that Teddy had to offer, and that he did not particularly get along with either Scorpius or Louis, he had never once missed one of their parties.

The Shrieking Shack was a special place to the Hogwarts students that attended the late night getaways. But it was not as special a place to them as it was to Albus. Long before the parties, long before James shared the secret passages with the others, Albus had been coming to the Shack in secret.

It had been a place to think, to reflect on the history kept within its walls. At the quietest, stillest of moments, Albus could hear the sounds, the whispers of the past, reaching through the folds of Time to speak to him.

The scratches on the floorboards spoke of a friendship so deep, Death could not destroy it. Torn sheets and curtains sang of the loyalty amongst friends, but wept at the betrayal of a dear one. The black blood stains that accented the interior whispered the loudest: family, family, family.

It took Albus a long time to come to terms with the presence of others in the Shack. First came James, stumbling through the passage from the Whomping Willow. Then followed Scorpius and Louis, Teddy and Kingsley. Orion had been the only one Albus had brought in of his own accord, back when things were still fresh, new, and lovely between them.

Then came the parties, the students, drunk and drugged, and unfortunate. Albus did not care much for the comings and goings of every student in Hogwarts, yet he could not allow himself to turn a blind eye when they needed it the most.

Safe rooms, clean clothes and water, and a secret deal between a Potter and the House-Elves provided the intoxicated adolescents with safe escorts back to their dormitories. Nobody had asked him to do it; Albus himself had not volunteered for the job. Still, it got done.

Putting out the last of his cigarette on the sole of his shoe, Albus checked on the charms on his clothing; there would be no point in trying to be sober if he succumbed to the stray fumes of the burning Moondew.

The scene on display was like all the others before it: dirty, sexual, drugged. Albus gilded around, sidestepping bodies and stopping to take an offered kiss every now and then. Only a light peck, nothing more. Whimpers and whines begged him for more, but he had no time for that.

Out of the corner of his eye, Albus noticed how a fellow Slytherin seemed to be forcing too much of himself into someone’s personal space. Exhaling with exasperation, Albus neared the antagonist in question and gave him a hard shove. “Come on now, man,” he said, “No means no.”

Much to Piper's surprise, another Slytherin stepped to her defense. She watched the boy who was harassing her fall back into his friends, his face a slideshow of surprise and aggravation. Once properly back on his feet he looked around for his attacker, ready to make heads roll....until his eyes landed on her rescuer. Piper took a moment to take in the scene. The boy, her rescuer, stood at odds with the Asshat Slytherin. In that frozen second between standoff and fighting, she saw Asshat's eyes flicker from Piper to him, assessing the situation, hesitation flickering across his face.

"Defending a Hufflepuff, Potter? You gonna hit that?" He sneered as he advanced on Albus.

Piper felt her face heat at his words. Her fists clenched, but she didn’t want to continue this scene, it was attracting too much attention.


Albus felt that curve in his lips that he sometimes let show; the one that so often got him in trouble.

“No,” he said. “I’m going to hit you.”

His fist flew fast, sharp, and true. The guy flew back, landing on his ass. Before he could do anything else, Albus spelled him unconscious. He kicked his feet out of his way, his glare daring anyone else to join in the fray.

“Round two?”

They scattered, leaving their fallen comrade behind. Albus scoffed, smirking devilishly. He turned to Piper and his grin faded.

“What are you doing here, Longbottom?”

Albus, good lord, it was A L B U S. How had she not recognized him immediately? Fists flew and Piper's brain scattered momentarily, as the fight ensued. How had she not recognized the dark haired boy immediately? His eyes landed on Piper and she almost took a step back, the full force of his gaze was somewhat disorienting for her. She realized he had asked her a question.

"Oh...ah...causing trouble evidently..." She said with a half hearted smile.

"Just came to...cut loose, I suppose. Drink?" She asked gesturing towards the bar area. Good lord, she needed a goddamn drink.


Albus raised a single eyebrow, taking Piper in with grave consideration. She looked unsettled, nervous. Clearly she had not expected what she’d found at the Shack. He shook his head slightly.

“I don’t drink.” He didn’t specify that he did not drink here at the Shrieking Shack. “But I’ll accompany you nonetheless.”

He motioned for her to go ahead, following at a safe distance behind.

"Oh, okay." Piper said mildly surprised by his words. She wasn't sure what surprised her more, the fact that he didn't drink, or that he agreed to come with her.

"Ah, well, I'll have to find some other way to thank you then." She said. Piper's face heated suddenly as her own words rang in her ears. A blush seared through her cheeks and for a minute she thought her face was on fire. Mortified, she turned away from him to hide her cheeks in the dark waves of her hair. As she moved through the crowd, she tried to gather her thoughts. Once at the bar she ordered two single shots of Beetle Berry Whiskey. She took them both within seconds of each other. The sweet burn took her mind off of the pitfalls of socialization.

"So what do you do?" She asked, curiosity coloring her voice.


Piper amused him. The way she tried to hide her face from him as she embarrassed herself unnecessarily, the way she wanted so much to “cut loose,” but still clung so desperately to sobriety.

Albus could feel a not so pleasant smile threatening to show. He leaned his back against the bar, elbows on the smooth surface. Surveying the scene that continued to play in the room, he said with an unidentifiable chuckle: “I’m the guard dog of this place.”




Thank you Em for your words!

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Louis Weasley Character Portrait: Scorpius Malfoy Character Portrait: Teddy Lupin Character Portrait: Lysander Scamander Character Portrait: James Potter

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By the time they made it back inside, the party had doubled in size. That was partially at the fault of anyone who shared the last name Weasley, as they took up half the population in any given area, but it was also the most crowded he had ever seen the Shack. They’d told Rose they wanted to go all out for the first party of their last year. Apparently she had taken it by heart.

Even for Scorpius, the reminder that it was their last year was a heavy one that wouldn’t stop settling against his chest. He didn’t particularly think he would miss Hogwarts itself - school was school, a means to an end, a requirement he didn’t particularly have a choice in. But the proximity to his friends, the excuse to party the way they did, the lack of any real responsibility - all of that was worth missing.

He followed Louis through the crowd with the help of a few harshly placed elbows and well aimed glares. He wasn’t sure if it was his last name or the knowledge that he was a co-owner of the parties that kept anyone from biting back at him. Honestly, he didn’t care. At least, that was, until he caught sight of Oris pressed up tightly against her pet sociopath. Drugs of their own making, Black and Langston. It bothered him enough that the hint of a frown tugged at Scorpius’ mouth, but he let it go. He wasn’t his cousins keeper.

The familiar feeling of Louis’ fingers digging into his hips pulled Scorpius’ attention back to him, to the bar that they had arrived at, only to realize Teddy wasn’t manning his usual bag of goodies. Scorpius arched an eyebrow and Louis gave him a look in return, so he leaned over the bar and - ah. James’ fingers were twisted into crimson red hair, his knees pressed to the floor, two hungry mouths moving together. In a very shameless display of want, Lysander Scamander was watching, in a much different way than Scorpius himself was.

Scorpius snorted, it was a reaction he couldn't hold back. Lys could daydream all he wanted, but James and Teds would eat the poor boy alive if he ever managed to get in between them. Relations aside though, Scorpius supposed he couldn’t blame the boy. James and Teds were fit, and they always made out like they were putting on a private show. Wet dreams attempting to damn the chastest of them all.

Scorpius rubbed at the top of Lys’ head in a gesture that should have been friendly, possibly even brotherly, but he had never been very good at that stuff so it was a touch too rough and a bit too teasing to really be endearing. “Go on, Lys. Take a bite. It’d be a lovely way to die.”

He left the boy there in favor of Teddy’s bag, passing by the euphoric substances Teddy seemed to prefer, instead going for the much less consumed Fae Edibles. He’d tip Teddy handsomely later for making sure he had a supply of Scorpius’ favorite, and stayed there only long enough to cut the toffee shaped drugs into smaller pieces. When he finally got to Louis, he pushes him against a back wall with soft hands and demanding hips. There was sweetness on the tip of his tongue and when he bites his way into Louis’ mouth, he’s rewarded with a sharp inhale and fingers digging into his back.

Louis' hands attempt to tear at the fabric but wind up gripping tightly instead. Twisting in an attempt to hang on the the last of his mind as the euphoria sets in.

He is lost in Scorpius, intoxicated by him even more so than by the drugs.

The world twisted into numbness, erasing sensations outside of the wetness of Louis’ mouth against his, the hands that pulled him closer, the greedy licks to his bottom lip asking for more. Scorpius gave and gave until he had to pull away to breathe, and then it was back. The party came into focus in the way he could see the notes from the music dancing in the air, in the vibrant redness of Louis’ hair, the green eyes that were weighing him down, the smirk that Louis wore.

"That good?" He whispers in amusement. "We could teach them a thing or two you know." Teddy and James could publicly dry-hump all they wanted but they couldn't top the lightning that struck everytime Louis and Scorp touched.

“Shut up,” Scorpius muttered, feeling the music pump through him like a second pulse, the drugs like sixth sense, the desire to be closer like a fucking human need. He drags Louis this time, into the crowd of dancing bodies, tilts his head to run his tongue across the length of Louis’ neck, chasing the taste of moondew soaked skin and biting down on muscle hard enough to leave a mark.

Louis couldn't help the groan, the way his body slackened at the pressure of teeth on flesh. The flash of warmth brought to the surface of his cheeks that he would fervidly deny as him blushing bright red against pale skin. He reached a hand up to tangle in blonde strands of hair, begging for more. Wanting to wear Scorpius' markings on his skin for all to see.

His arms went around Louis’ waist, one up under his jeans and downward, seeking skin. It was almost too intimate for public - almost, if everyone weren’t fucking smashed - and maybe a bit of a promise of things to come later.

They were dancing to the beat of their own tune, the tempo of whatever song playing in the background nothing in comparison to the pulse within. Louis could feel it tear through him, beating in time with the shaky exhales from his open mouth.

This was it, everything he craves in a singular all encompassing feeling. He wanted more, wanted to sink to the floor, take Scorpius down with him. Let those impulses wash over them, those urges inside like a riptide keeping them below the water's surface. Drowning on the feeling of hands, and skin, and tongues.

Louis aches to be somewhere else then, somewhere that didn't include the dozen other faces in the crowd. But he could block them out, they didn't matter anyways, let them watch! Those other students with all their other problems were wrapped up in themselves just as much as they were in each other. Honestly, he lives for this. For Scorpius and all of his wicked offerings - everyone else be damned.



Thanks for the words Finchy

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Teddy Lupin Character Portrait: Lysander Scamander Character Portrait: James Potter

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The feeling of a hand on his head shocked Lys out of whatever reverie he was in. It took him a moment to realise that Scorpius Malfoy of all people was talking to him. The head rub had been a little rough, enough to make Lys wonder if he was being teased or legitimately chastised. It felt like a very… un-Scorpius type gesture, one that made Lys know that there was something in his system. It took him a moment to process Scorpius’ words. But once he did, his cheeks flushed red, and he turned away, staring into the crowd. Scorpius at least had a point.

It'd be a lovely way to die.

James would know. Vaguely aware of Lys’ presence while the party grinded on like static in the background. The euphoria's got him laced and lit on a neon wave, caught in the haze between blind ecstasy and selfish amusement when he rolls his hips to the beat of the music and Ted’s bites become more teeth and less restraint. Blunt nails in his hair. Under his clothes. Digging into his ribs. James finally pauses to breathe, grabbing fistfuls of Teddy's shirt to force the kid back while he raises up on his knees, mind suddenly clear enough to know he wants more of whatever's left on the counter.

Then James finally sees him. Lys. Lingering in the crowd like the quiet noise in the back of a room. No more soft dimples and smiling eyes, suddenly every bit the hungry, hollow, hesitating kid he'd seen before. In small glances. At the Potter family dinner table. When innocence and intent didn't exactly line up, a crack James could see through like he'd put it there himself.

And fuck it. Maybe it was just James' night to make moves. He stands up and grabs a drink off the counter, drags a hand through Ted's mop of hair one last time, a silent pace yourself teddy bear. Night's not over yet.

"Hey," James grins, maneuvering around until he's finally in front of Lys, "don't look so lost, man."

A lovely way to die, indeed. When James appears in front of Lys, it’s those words that ring through Lys’s mind. The haze of the drugs is still there, making things seem blurry, out of focus. Everything except James. He doesn’t know how to react, he doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but he grins.

“Don’t feel quite as lost now that you’re here,” he says, stepping closer to James, making eye contact and managing to hold it. Those green eyes, the eyes he’d made contact with so many times only to glance away, that messy hair he’d been distracted by so many times. Almost without even thinking, he runs a hand through James’ hair, his hand moving down to brush against James’ jaw.

There's a response on the tip of James' tongue. Hands all too ready to grab Lys by the collar and drag him back to the spot he and Ted had carved out for themselves, but the unexpected touch shocks him into silence. Heat rising up in his chest when he looks into carob eyes. He'd never seen that kind of edge to the kid and instantly wonders who's been keeping him occupied, 'cause it sure as shit wasn't James. Or maybe it's just the party bringing out all the darker spaces in Lys.

How much more could he get? The thought burns in the back of James' skull when he inches closer to Lys, leaving just enough space to raise a drink to his lips. "Good," he cheers. Way too smug. Smiling too wide. As if his body had had enough and couldn't contain the emotion any longer. The drink leaves the burn of something minty down his throat when he looks back at Lys, every bit the missing center to James' tangled mess, practically daring when he asks, "wanna taste?"

Shit, whatever Teddy had given him really was good. Because there’s nothing there. No fear, no self-consciousness, nothing that held him back. Nothing that questions how James could want him. It feels as though there’s only enough thoughts there for self-preservation. And maybe not even then. But that grin, even as the smugness shines through, it’s all Lys can think about right then.

So at the slightest invitation, a dare, a question that doesn’t even feel like a question, Lys’ lips are against James’, his hands in that dark mess of hair again, tasting the mint of whatever it was he’d just drank. Lys didn’t care. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t want to think in that moment, or have anything that would tear him away from this moment. It’s like a breath of fresh air he never realised he needed. Lys knows already that he’s hooked, and he doesn’t care. Because it’s him, and it’s James, and does anything else even matter?

The shocks gone now. All white noise and pounding heat in James' ears when his hands end up buried in Lys shirt, greedily pulling him as close as the two can get, a teaser and a warning James can't put the words to. Just bites down on Lys' lip like that action alone could keep him sated when the drugs in his veins have him more than tempted to bust the kid's spine right there. Shit. Could he just-

What's the opposite of a kiss? He's had enough of the bass-saturated air pressing down on him even if the smell of muggle weed and whisky could practically lull James to sleep on his worst day. Lys' touch has a different kind of electricity welling up under his skin. Behind his eyes. In his chest. Has him practically whining in the most ravenous way, eager to sink his teeth into something new. The words are slow and low when James wraps his arms around Lys neck, slurs, "two's fun and all but uhh," then barely nods in Ted's direction, something tremendously loud in such a small gesture. Lys may of been the view James saw when falling, but Ted was the force that threw him over the edge.

Or, maybe, two boys were just better than one. “If you’re with it…”

Lys doesn’t realise he’s breathless until James moves away, enough for him to catch his breath. There’s something there now, making him want more, feeling like there’s electricity humming in his skin from every single touch. He doesn’t want to let go right now, doesn’t want to lose this feeling.

He finds himself staring for a moment at James as he tries to process what he means. Somewhere, for just a second, jealousy rears its head at the thought of being abandoned in favour of someone else. And then what he actually means hits Lys. His sluggish and spinning thoughts don’t let him dwell on it. He just knows what he wants, who he wants, and realises he doesn’t give a shit if he has to share. Especially not if it’s with Teddy.

“Yeah,” Lys says simply, a little breathlessly. If he can see the ideas welling up behind James' glazed eyes, he doesn't say anything -- not that James minds. Just rises up on his toes to kiss him again before grabbing Lys by the wrist and leading him back to Teds.

Teddy had been staring unabashedly at the two forms in front of him, his eyes lidded and smile slow and lazy. He sort of felt like touching but instead settled for the intrinsic beauty of watching. Voyeurism, it seemed, could be just as hot as the real thing. He also wasn't too sure about his motor functions at the moment, James mouth had put his body in a state of comatose pleasure. Teddy's eyes were trained on the spot between flesh, where lips met and skin burned hot when suddenly James filled his entire vision. "Teddy," James sings over the music, letting go of Lys to crouch down beside his friend. "You okay? Lys says he's feeling charitable."

His smiled shuddered, hair slicking through with shades of black and blue- he kind of felt like stealing the prize in front of him when James's words caught up with him.

"Charitable?" Teddy cocked his head and struggled to look passed James for the small curly hair of blonde, "Oh, Lys, fuck yeah. I can share."

"c'mon, then," James laughs, pulling teds off the floor before slinging an arm around him and Lys and heading towards the door.




written w/ icat and iv.
thanks for the collab, guys!