THE SCARS ON MY BODY ● JEGULUS |MARAUDERS|

✰THIRTY ONE✰

'ELLO, 'ELLO, 'ELLO. SOOO, ANYONE HAVE ANY IDEAS FOR A HUMPHREY AND BAILEY FANCAST? I WAS THINKING MAYBE LOUIS PARTRIGDE FOR MILO BUT IM NOT 100% SURE! HELP PLEASEEEE (BACK TO THE SLOWBURN WE GO, HAHHAH YOU ALL THOUGHT IT WAS OVER) XXX

TW: UNDERAGED SMOKING (ONLY BREIFLY MENTIONED)

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✰ 'Hi, how are you?' or

'Hi, I hope I haven't upset you by

practically rejecting

you last night.' ✰

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James Fucking Fleamont Fucking Potter was a fucking idiot. He had done many stupid things in his time, but this had to have been the worst so far. Why? Why? Why? Why? Why was he so fucking idiotic?! Why couldn't he just toughen up a bit? Why was he so fucking sensitive? Why was he so- so- URGH!

James let out a groan, as his eyes opened the next morning. He looked around his surroundings as he sat up, shoving a pair of glasses on to his face. The common room, great. So he was too much of a sensitive cry-baby to make it to his own fucking bedroom. He released another groan after he'd stood up, noticing from the large clock on the wall that it was 6 o'clock in the bloody, fucking, shitty morning.

Snatching his wand from where he'd left it on the coffee table, he tried to think of anything and everything else other than what had happened that night. Quidditch. The end of 1976 Slytherin vs Gryfinddor Quidditch match was that Saturday, only four days away. As Captain, James had a lot of pressure placed upon his shoulders. He had to plan their tactics, he had to make sure everyone was eating healthily and getting enough sleep, not forgetting the fact that he needed to squeeze in as many practices on the field as possible. Well....at least that's what he had told everyone around him as he ran between classes and locked himself away in his room.

It had worked, it really had. Everyone had believed him and shrugged it off. James had always gotten stressed and grown distant around this time of the year, that was just how he coped with these things. It was all completely fine until the clock turned seven. Study session - shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit!

"You alright, mate? You're bright red. Are you sweating?" Sirius asked, sitting up from his place in the armchair. Sirius. He hadn't told him what had happened, and he wasn't planning on doing so, therefore guilt flooded through his veins. Reg- Black. Black was Sirius' little brother, he'd promised not to hurt him, not to break him, now look what he had done! There was no way that this hadn't affected Reg- Black. There was no way this hadn't affected Black, and so he must have broken his promise to Sirius. Sirius was his best friend, his twin, his companion, how could he do such a thing and then sit before him and act like nothing had happened? That was just wrong. He'd done many wrong things, but this? He couldn't do this.

"I'm not great. Stressed is all." Padfoot nodded in understanding, lighting a cigarette with his wand and bringing it to his lips.

"Ew! Bloody hell, not in the common room, Black! That bloody stinks!" Lily exclaimed sharply from her place at the wizarding chessboard.

Peter made a face of disgust at the stench as he looked up from his and Evans' game. "Bloody revolting, mate." He complained.

The boy laughed and walked over to the open window. "This any better?"