Lacerta Black -- James Potter --

36

"I know I'm not at my usual animal magnetism of hotness right now--," James's raspy voice jolted Lacerta awake as she bolted upright to look into his hazel eyes. He couldn't even finish his sentence as she drowned it out with a kiss that sent their teeth clashing. He had developed an ulcer in his stomach due to the amount of stress the boy was under, something easily remedied by a potion. 

"I hate you," she said into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck to draw him closer. "Never do that again."

"I love you," he sighed as she pulled away, realizing what he said with a shocked face. "If you're not ready to say it back-"

"I-" flashes of her parents uttering those three words after they had finished torturing their children. She could say for certain that she loved James Potter with all her heart. How could you not? He was perfect. "I can't say it right now, but I do. I really do."

He smiled gently, looking tired behind his years and she was afraid that with the war, she would never see him without the slight droop to his usually lively face again. "It would be alright with me if you never loved me as long as I kept you in my life."

"I assure you that I do," she played with his fingers, gazing into his eyes with all the love she wished she could proclaim. "It's just--"

"The trauma that comes with being a former member of the House of Black," he teased, pressing his lips to the back of her hand as he intertwines their fingers. "Don't feel guilty my darling, I can see it in your face."

Her heart fluttered at the endearment. The curtains drew back with a loud snap, revealing Madam Pomfrey and James's parents standing behind. Lacerta withdrew her hand just as fast, placing them in her lap as if her own parents would send a spell at her for being improper. This was the first time she had seen Euphemia and Fleamont as their son's girlfriend instead of the girl he fancied. 

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter," she put on a charming smile to hide her growing nerves, which had been at an all-time high since watching James's faint in her arms.

"Enough with the formalities, Lacey," Euphemia corrected kindly. 

"You're practically family now," Fleamont snorted. "Won't be long before my boy tries to put a ring on your finger."

"Dad!" James blushed, avoiding their eyes as he glared at the sheet draped over his legs. Lacerta nudged him jokingly before the mood turned somber once more. 

"I'm afraid we do need to discuss Mister Potter's health," Madam Pomfrey thinned her lips into a straight line. "He needs to avoid stress as much as possible. Perhaps he should give away his title as Head Boy and Quidditch Captain--"

"NO QUIDDITCH!?" James and Fleamont both shouted in union, both receiving a smack upside the head from their girlfriend and wife respectively. James continued, "Can't I just. . . keep doing what I'm doing without thinking about it?"

"Clearly you have trouble thinking already," Lacerta snarked. 

He frowned, "Rude. Anyways, there has to be another way!"

"What about sharing the responsibilities? Co-captains and I already know that Lacerta is Head Girl so maybe handing over a few more of your duties?"

"Liz already does most of the Head stuff herself," James sent her a guilty look. "Marlene would be a good Co-captain, but those don't really stress me out."

"Well," Madam Pomfrey tutted as she examined his vitals, "you'll just have to avoid whatever is stressing you out."

His brows furrowed with further guilt etched on his face. "Can't avoid the war, Poppy. And with the war comes stressed out friends who have all experienced some sort of trauma in one way or another so they start taking it out on you in fights because they know they can control the fights and when you add the future and Newts on top of that." He started to look ill as he spoke of his aliments. 

"Darling, you need to talk to your friends when they are treating you that way," Euphemia kissed his forehead with watery eyes. "It's not fair on you and they need to find healthier ways to cope."

"Have I--" Lacerta began, but she couldn't get another syllable before he covered her entire mouth with his hand, not wavering when she licked his palm.

"You have been absolutely amazing. I could not have asked for a better girlfriend," he assured. "I've been a shit - sorry mum - boyfriend lately and I apologize for that."

Girls were supposed to be faithful and doting on their men, at least that was what she was always taught. It didn't seem like a big load of shit like the rest of the things she'd learnt. "It's the least I could do. You did break into Grimmauld to get me out."

And Regulus, but he'd been sucked back in by fear. The pain still thrummed in her heart. It kept her going because one of the Black siblings had to prove that they were good, and Sirius was still too impulsive - hence The Prank. At the rate he was going, he would be in Azkaban before he was twenty.

"You need to take it easy Mister Potter or you're never going to get better," Pomfrey sighed, already wanting the boy out of her wing. 

"I know," he groaned. "Can I leave yet? I'll talk to them I swear, but I'm not giving up Head Boy or Captain."

"James," Euphemia tried, but it fell on deaf ears since he was far too stubborn to listen.

"I'll keep an eye on him Mrs. Potter," Lacerta said, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb as he smiled at the gesture. 

The older couple hugged their son goodbye, advising him soaks in the bath and plenty of time to relax before they parted ways. She could see the beginnings of illness in their aged features. How it turned their skin pale and made them pause after they stood up too fast. James, thankfully, didn't seem to notice as he leaped out of his bed to follow his girlfriend back to their dorm. 

"I reckon a good snog might be the cure," he said thoughtfully as they walked up the stairs. Not a hint of a joke laid on his face, but she could see the smirk playing on his lips. 

Just to tease him, and because she knew that a snog would relieve some of his stress, she pushed him into a secluded alcove as soon as they passed one. Her teeth nipped as his lip as she ran a hand through his hair, pulling on some of the tangles which made him groan. Impatient, he captured her lips with his own, gripping her waist with a grip that would leave bruises.

He flipped their positions, moving to kiss her jaw before sucking on her neck. His tongue swirled over the red marks he was leaving as a needy noise escaped her lips. A laugh from down the hall made her pull apart, laughing as he chased after her. "Feel better?"

His lips were swollen, and he had a dazed expression on his face. "Much," he assured. They kissed once more before they continued their walk back to the dorm, where he would spend the week relaxing instead of focusing on classes. Something Madam Pomfrey and McGonagall had discussed last night. 

James had tried to convince her to do the same, but she argued that one of them had to take notes and she had better handwriting. "Read me a bedtime story, please?" he asked when they'd finally walked through the portrait.

"Are you two years old?" she rolled her eyes. Truthfully, no one had ever read her a bedtime story, no matter how young she was.

"It's good for my health," he argued.

She stayed up for an hour to read him a children's book.