Chapter Text
The day James Potter moved into the White House he nearly tripped over his shoe laces in front of a thousand flashing cameras.
The only thing that saved him from face-planting onto the perfectly manicured South Lawn was his two best friends. Lily Evans grabbed one arm, Remus Lupin caught the other, and together they hauled him upright before the photographers had a chance to immortalise the moment.
Move in day came two days after his mom, Euphemia Potter. Was elected as the president of the United States. Her lifelong dream. It was crazy but James couldn't be prouder. That all happened when he was 18. Now, four years later, election season is rearing its ugly head and the White House is incredibly tense.
Somewhere during his moms term as president, James, plus his two best friends, had been branded ‘The White House Trio’ a total marketing scheme from his mom’s team but they didn't really mind.
Lily Evans, granddaughter of the Vice President, was the brains of the operation. Sharp-tongued, fiercely organised and incapable of tolerating incompetence, she spent most of her time buried in polling data, campaign strategy and enough spreadsheets to make most people cry. Half the senior staff relied on her, even if they were too proud to admit it.
Remus Lupin was quieter than the other two, but no less brilliant. Thoughtful, endlessly observant and armed with an uncanny ability to read both people and politics, he seemed destined for a career in journalism. He had a habit of asking exactly the right question at exactly the wrong time, and somehow managed to know everyone’s secrets without ever sharing any of his own.
Then there was James.
The First Son of the United States was everything the campaign loved: charming, effortlessly charismatic and impossible not to notice. He remembered names with alarming ease, and could win over almost anyone in under five minutes. The public adored him, the press couldn’t get enough of him, and every political commentator in Washington had already decided he’d run for office one day.
On that first day in the white house, James had gone exploring the halls of his new home. In the west wing, on the ceiling there is a bit of loose paneling, if you give it a tap, it can be pushed back to reveal writing, carved into the wood, one simple mantra. It says:
Rule #1: Don’t get caught.
Little did James know how helpful that tiny bit of anonymous advice would be.
Typically, the children of the president don’t live in the White House past 18, but after James was accepted into George Town university, it just made sense for him to stick around. Lily was always at the White House anyway, what with her job in analytics and the fall after James was accepted Remus joined them there. The words were never spoken, but James knew they both moved in to keep an eye on him. They know James gets off on being close to the action and has a tendency to turn in on himself when he feels he doesn’t have a distraction from the crushing outside pressure he began to feel since stepping into the limelight.
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“Hey,” says a voice at the door, and he looks up from his laptop to see Remus edging into his room, his phone, laptop and a stack of magazines under one arm and a box in his hand. He closes the door behind him with his foot.
“What’d you steal today?” James asks, pushing the pile of papers on his bed out of Remus’ way.
“This fuckin fancy assorted chocolate box?” Remus says as he climbs up. Remus was born in England, but moved to the US for uni, that’s when he met James. He’s wearing grey jeans and a jumper that looks like it belongs to an 80 year old man, as well as doc martins that he kicks off before jumping onto James’ bed.
“How is it that you’re the fashionable one?” James asks leaning forward to grab one of the chocolates.
“God knows, I just dress like a queer from the 80s and people love me, what can I say?” Remus laughs, but he’s not wrong, by next week the fashion columns will be pictures of that outfit talking about how ‘comfort is the new chic’ or some bullshit.
“You might as well be.” James retorts.
“Oh I know, if only I’d been born twenty years earlier I would have all the boxes ticked.” Remus leaned back against the cushions on James’ bed.
Remus had come out to James pretty much the second they became friends, by now he was out to pretty much everyone… except America. After Remus got more involved in his Mom’s campaign as the third in the ‘White House Trio’ they, or rather his Mom’s team, had decided it would be best if his bisexuality was best kept quiet, something Remus protested regularly, to no avail. Course, all three of them were queer in some way, but after the way Remus was treated, they all kept that to themselves.
James turns his attention to the stack of magazines Remus had dumped out on the bedspread. Remus himself is already busying himself, flipping through them.
“Doing your part to keep the great American gossip industry alive?” James asks.
“That’s what my journalism degree’s for,” Remus replies absentmindedly.
“Anything good this week?”
“Let’s see,” Remus starts, “In Touch says I’m… dating a French model?”
“Are you?”
“I wish, he’s hot.” Remus retorts.
“Ah, ‘he’ don’t let my Mom and her team catch wind of that.” James liked that despite their best efforts, his mother’s team still hadn’t quite managed to keep Remus quiet.
“Trust me I won’t” Remus laughed, he flipped forward a few pages, “Ooh, and they're saying you have a sixth finger.”
“That one’s true” James replies humorously through a mouthful of chocolate.
“Thought so” He says without looking up.
Tabloid gossip is Remus’ idle hobby, he loves laughing at the ridiculous things magazines come out with, although, James secretly believes it’s his way of coping with the more hard-hitting articles, ones rambling on about his Dad, or spouting other hurtful bullshit.
“Oh God, did you see the fan fiction Lily sent you this morning.” Remus laughed, that was another hobby of theirs.
“Ugh, unfortunately I did, and I would argue I am not nearly that self obsessed.”
“Mmm, really? Cause I thought that characterisation was spot on,” Remus laughed, taking out a cigarette and holding it between his lips.
“Hey,” James pulled it away before Remus could light it, “No smoking in here.”
“Ugh, oh… look we made the cover of Us Weekly” Remus said suddenly.
In bold yellow letters it said across the front of the magazine it read: “FIRST SON AND BEST FRIEND’S WILD NYC NIGHT” and it’s accompanied with a photo from an event hall, the two of them huddled in a corner, laughing.
“It says here you had some kind of tryst with a ‘mystery girl’” Remus reads, “Rumours are swirling that the girl was none other than Lily Evans, the twenty-two-year-old granddaughter of Vice President Mike Evans and third member of the White House Trio. Could it be the two are rekindling their romance?”
“Yes!” James shouted, and Remus groaned, “That’s less than a month, Lupin, You owe me 50 dollars, baby!”
Remus groans and turns, face down into the cushion he was leaning against,
“I take venmo” James laughed.
“You are literally the first son. I’m not paying.” Remus says, “I am going to kill Evans. Oh!” He sat up suddenly, “What are you wearing tomorrow?”
“For what?”
“The wedding?”
“Whose wedding?”
“Uh… The Royal Wedding?” Remus says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Potter, don’t tell me you forgot?”
“Oh, nope. Just blocked it out of my memory, it's what I do with things that take up unnecessary space in my mind.” James said dramatically.
“God, I’m surprised Alice hasn’t set you on fire by now” Remus groans.
“To be fair, it surprises me too.” James laughed, then moved on quickly, “Do Hello! Magazine now”