Harry Potter Imagines

James Potter 》I Can't Take It Anymore

theseuscmander queries: 1, 15, & 16 with Sirius (or James!!)? <3333

Warnings: N/A,

Words: ~900

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Alcohol does different things to different people. Take you, for example: you had just gotten a buzz going, and you were feeling competitive. There was a board of wizard's chess in front of you and you'd come to win, which should have been easy since your opponent was much drunker than you and very clearly battling some inner demons.

Except that he wouldn't take his bloody turn.

James had his chin resting in his palm and he kept sighing as he fiddled absentmindedly with his pawns (none of whom quite liked it.) You, along with several pieces on the board, were growing impatient.

"Potter," you said finally, "what's wrong?"

He mumbled something you didn't quite understand.

"What's that?"

"I said," said James more clearly, "I know that you're in love with him."

You cocked an eyebrow at the boy. "Do you now?" you asked, having no idea what he was on about, but knowing he was wrong nonetheless.

He nodded. "I've thought it for a while now, but then I heard Marlene teasing you about it."

"Uh-huh," you said. "Hey, James?"

He raised his head to look at you.

"Who exactly are you talking about?"

He frowned, like it was obvious, which it probably would have been if he were right, but again, he wasn't. "Sirius."

You held back a laugh, knowing that this was supposed to be a serious moment. "Uh-huh. And what led you to believe I was in love with him before you heard Marlene and I?"

"You're always smiling when he's around, and he's always whispering in your ear, and you sit near him and hang out with him all the time."

"I see. James—"

"I just... I can't take it anymore."

"James—"

"I think I'm in love with you."

You both froze, the realization of what he'd just said sinking in. You were taken aback, wondering what to say about anything that he'd just been on about. Before you were able to find the words, James shot up out of his seat and left, leaving you to stare at his now empty chair. You decided not to chase him and press it for the night. Sleep would do him some good.

You did have to talk to him at some point, however. He managed to evade you for most of the next day, which didn't surprise you, though it definitely meant that he remembered what he'd told you, which was good, because you weren't going to avoid it.

It was right before dinner when you were finally able to catch the boy. You marched up behind him while he was talking to Remus and, without warning, grabbed his hand.

"Sorry, Remus," you said calmly. "I have to steal Potter for a moment."

James protested, but you paid him no mind as you dragged him down the corridor. "You and I are going to talk about this," you informed him.

"Y/N, I was drunk, you can't hold what I said against me."

"Fine," you said. "I'll ignore the part about you being in love with me. But we're going to talk about Sirius."

"Must we?"

You arrived at a secluded off-corridor, let go of his hand, turned to him, and crossed your arms. "Yes. Because you're a bloody idiot and it would be rude of me not to help you out with that condition."

"Anyone ever tell you you were harsh?"

"All the time." You uncrossed your arms and held up a hand. "First, I hang out with all of you all the time, rarely ever him alone; second, when he's whispering in my ear, it's to mock me about the person I'm actually in love with; third, I only sit near him by proxy because he's always with the person I really want to sit next to; and lastly and most importantly, you're the reason I'm always smiling, you git," you said, ticking off your fingers as you went.

James pointed at himself at the last statement. You watched as he tried to calculate what you'd just said in his head.

"I'm the one who makes you smile?"

"And the one I'm always trying to sit near and the one Sirius is always mocking me about, actually."

"I make you smile," he repeated, wide-eyed. "Wait a minute, are you saying that you, like, you're in... I mean, am I the one that—"

"I was starting to think that I'd have to spell it out for you with chalk."

His face lit up like a Christmas tree. "You're in love with me! And I'm in love with you! I really am, by the way, I didn't mean it when I implied that I was only saying it because I was drunk. I mean, technically that's true because I don't think I'd have had to balls to while sober but—"

You rolled your eyes and crashed your lips against his to shut him up. He returned the kiss quickly, one hand coming up to tangle in your hair, and the other arm wrapping around your waist. You balled up your hands around the front of his jumper to keep him against you. After a few seconds, he began to laugh happily against your lips.

"We're in love," he mumbled.