Chapter Text
James Potter isn’t ashamed to say he has a bit of an ego.
Okay, more than ‘a bit’, but it isn’t blind confidence. He’s strong—he doesn’t spend hours working out for nothing, after all—intelligent—though it does tend to surprise people to know he’s within the highest achievers of his year—friendly, and, as he’s been told, and fawned after many an occasion, fit.
Perhaps he can be a little too arrogant, but when has having a strong belief in one’s self ever been a bad thing?
That is to say, when James steps into the room, it is with all the bravado and swagger in the world. He walks, flashes a cheeky smile, and attention befalls him like a storm floods the streets.
This is true of all ‘The Marauders’, though for differing reasons.
Peter Pettigrew is the least noticed of the four of them, not that that says much. His sweet, supple cheeks, and round, bright eyes make even the hardest of hearts soften, and it’s difficult for people who get to know his more devious side not to find the paradox charming. He has an easy-going attitude that makes him easy to trust, with a touch of endearing shyness. There are few people who share classes with him who do not know his name, for Peter is always willing to step in from the shadows to lend a hand. He can come off as shifty, to the wrong person, but his docility is more than enough to silence a mean tongue.
Remus Lupin is, too, timid, though not in the same way. Whereas people can read Peter’s bashfulness in his demeanour, Remus is quiet. He does not blush under undivided attention, or duck his head at the odd compliment. Some people have gone so far to refer to him as the ‘strong but silent’ type, and though James wouldn’t agree, he understands why. He’s overheard people gossiping about how ‘manly’ his stoicism reads, how ‘cool’. He’s witty, sarcastic, and there’s something about his coarse tongue that makes the most stand-offish people blush. Though, nothing snags people faster than catching a glimpse of his soft side. A lopsided smile, a flush to his sun-kissed skin, a lazy glance, and a line of admirers’ knees give out. He claims it isn’t intentional, but Remus is a bit of a flirt. James cannot count on his fingers how many times his heart has skipped a beat because of some off-handed remark his friend tossed his way.
Oh, and Sirius Black…well, no-one steals the attention of every bystander in the room like the disgraced noble. The best James can describe him is loud. Everything about Sirius is loud. His aesthetic, his voice, his smile, his presence. He’s practically an air horn personified. Sirius walks with a strut, arms held up like he’s greeting the universe. Whereas Remus is a subtle flirt, Sirius is a loud and proud player, and he knows how to use his charm to draw in whichever unlucky soul caught his eye. He’s an undeniably beautiful man, different from Remus’ softer handsomeness, or Peter’s sweet face. There’s something rugged and messy about Sirius’ appearance that makes girls swoon and blokes green-in-the-face. He has a glib tongue, the perfect smirk, and startling eyes that one cannot help but look at him. He’s rebellious, confident, and proud, and James isn’t ashamed to say it’s attractive. He can come off as overzealous, but James thinks it’s just part of the appeal.
James, like Sirius, revels in attention. He’s been told that his presence is warm and inviting, like sun rays, and that it’d be a feat to come across anyone with a good heart who isn’t affected by his magnetism.
Above all, James is someone who can make anyone light up with a smile. There isn’t a single person he’s come across who he’s failed at making grin. Be it a silly pun, or a ridiculous story, James prides himself on being able to reach hearts that have been encompassed in cement with ease—make them beat with laughter.
So here he stands, surrounded by people he’s acquainted with and others, recounting an incident that happened a few months back that has never failed to light up a room. The Gryffindors are hosting a casual kick back, and many people had shown up, looking for a good time. He’s engaging the people around him, making gestures with his hands, changing the tone of his voice. Sirius chimes in here and there for background commentary, and James has the pleasure of seeing people chortle and giggle when he gets to the part where a drunk Peter and Sirius had mistakenly approached a long-haired man on a dare, assuming he was a woman. Sirius had dared Peter to get his contact information, and the look Peter wore when the lad turned his head and he’d met a chiselled, masculine face with a full moustache and beard was mortified. He cannot help erupting in a fit of laughter as Peter embarrassedly ducks his head.
“I wasn’t the only one who’d made the mistake,” Peter whines light-heartedly.
“No, but you are the one who’d been dared to approach him,” Sirius chuckles, gently knocking Peter’s shoulder.
“That’s not the best part,” James grins. “Instead of apologising and walking off, Wormtail over here kept to the dare and started flirting with him.”
“I didn’t know you were into blokes, Peter,” Mary giggles.
“I’m not,” Peter argues. “But a dare is a dare. There’s, like, a silent oath you make anytime you decide to go through with one.”
“Ah, how admirable, Pettigrew.”
“Thank you, McKinnon.”
“Well, did he get his information?”
“Of course he did!” James cheers. He reaches over to Peter and pinches one of his cheeks, “Who could ever say no to that cute face?”
“Oi, quit it!”
“That isn’t even the best part.”
“What could possibly be more entertaining than imagining a wasted Pettigrew trying to flirt with a macho metal-head looking man?” Fabian asks.
“Oh gods…”
“At the end of the interaction,” James says, “the man had kissed Peter on the cheek and walked away, and poor Peter went so red in the face his nose started bleeding.”
The sound of a room full of laughter is like music to James’ ears.
“And you’re absolutely sure you’re not into blokes?”
“Please, Mary, I had drank too much. That is all.”
“Ah, I don’t think so,” James tuts. “I think our dear Wormtail finally had his sexual awakening. Shame he never contacted the bloke, they would’ve made a lovely couple.”
“Oh knock it off, you wanker.”
“If only we’d taken a video of the incident,” Sirius soughs. “You know, muggle technology really is quite impressive. They’ve even learned how to fly without…”
As Sirius goes on a tangent about aeroplanes—which James admits is an impressive non-magical invention—James’ wandering eyes land on the only stoic-faced person in the room.
He blinks twice, surprised to see Regulus Black, standing against the wall, nursing a cup of something, expression riddled with everything but amusement. He’s dressed in casual clothes, something James’ rarely sees, not that he interacts much with Sirius’ brother, especially not since Sirius’ disownment.
It isn’t that James was never interested in Regulus, but he never bit the bone whenever James tried to catch his attention in their many years schooling together, and as Sirius’ relationship to his blood-family continued to sour, James felt it was inappropriate to try to get close to him. Besides, he had a feeling Regulus wasn’t much fond of him, or the influence he’s had on Sirius. By the time James was in his fifth year, a year before Sirius would finally run away from Grimmauld and the Black lineage, he’d given up on trying to befriend the boy.
It’s a little different now. Though the relationship between the two brothers was not ‘good’, by any means, they were no longer constantly at each other's throats either. A standstill of sorts. Sirius had told James that they came to a silent agreement to treat each other like distant friends, for the time being, instead of trying to force a closeness that has lost its purity years ago.
Regulus catches his eye, expression falling into a grimace, and turns his head.
James, already feeling slighted at having failed to make him laugh, takes it upon himself to walk up to the boy despite his disinterest.
“Never thought I’d catch you at one of these,” he remarks offhandedly, saddling up to the boy.
“Barty wanted free alcohol and Dorcas is the vice’s girlfriend,” Regulus replies monotonously. “Why are you speaking to me?”
Okay. Damn. Ouch.
“You wound me, Regulus. Why can’t I speak to you?”
“We’re not friends.”
“We can be.”
Regulus sighs, tilting his head back. James can see the slight pink tinge burning across his nose bridge, a slight sway to his movements.
“What is it that you want, Potter?”
“C’mon, am I that much of a bother?” James jokes. When Regulus doesn’t laugh, he feels heat rush to his face. “Alright, fine. Just wanted to know what’s got you looking so serious?”
“I always look like this,” Regulus says with a surprising curtness considering he’s clearly tipsy. “And what’s there to smile at?”
“My wonderful story, obviously. Surely, you over-heard it.”
“Sorry I don’t see anything amusing about you recounting a time when your friend mistook a man for a woman.”
“Not even that he got a nosebleed?”
“I feel more for how difficult it must’ve been to clean the bloodstains.” Regulus swallows down the rest of his drink, pressing the empty cup against James’ chest. James’ heartbeat spikes. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to find my friends to tell them I’m off.”
“Awe, come on,” James unconsciously grabs his hand, only for Regulus to violently flinch back, the cup clattering to the ground.
“Sorry, sorry,” James immediately apologises, though he does not drop his hand. Regulus’ touch is cool despite the liquor—fitting. “Sorry, I just wanted to ask you to stay.”
Regulus stares at their joined hands for a few-seconds too long before taking his back.
“I’m alright. Goodbye, Potter.”
And with that, he walks off, shoulders held high, to the crowd where James can see Barty Crouch Jr and Evan Rosier dancing together without rhythm.
James prides himself on being able to reach hearts that have been encompassed in cement with ease.
He will not take this hit to his ego. He doesn’t care if Regulus’ heart is encompassed in tungsten, diamond and tar, he will reach it.