Chapter Text
Once his last box of stuff is secure in his grip, James slams the backdoor to his car closed with his hip and trudges towards the front door of Founders Hall: undeniably, the best dormitory on the Hogwarts College campus.
Frankly, everything about Founders is incredible; it’s recently renovated (which really means that it’s not literally falling apart, like some of other dorm buildings are), it’s closest to all of the dining halls and academic buildings, all of his friends are living there, and — last but certainly not least — James and Sirius have finally managed to snag the dorm on campus they’d been trying for since their first year: the King Suite.
Now, the King Suite isn’t an actual suite by any means, but rather two massive conjoined single dorm rooms that connect the two separate halls on the fourth floor of Founders. The seniors in previous years threw the best dorm-parties in there (parties that James and Sirius regularly crashed), and James is over the fucking moon that they managed to get it this year.
When he reaches the main entrance, James cumbersomely attempts to balance his box against the wall, then against his knee, and he tries to free his campus ID card from his pocket to swipe himself into the building. In the midst of his efforts, one of his airpods, blasting the cheerful chorus of Break My Stride, falls out of his ear and onto the floor.
“Damn it,” he swears, tongue poking out as he tries to scoot his airpod closer to him with his foot.
Sirius, rocking a leather jacket despite the fact that it’s 75 degrees outside, casually comes up next to him and swipes his ID card to let James in.
James smiles gratefully as Sirius picks up his airpod and slides it into the pocket of his jeans. “Thanks, Padfoot.”
“Don’t mention it,” adds Sirius, keeping stride with James' bulky pace. “You know, for an athlete, it’s surprising that carrying boxes seems to be winding you this much.”
Offended, James tries to harshly nudge Sirius with his elbow, but Sirius dodges it easily as he presses the elevator button. “Hmm, and your offensive skills are off, too? Yikes. Gonna be a rough season, huh?”
“Shut up,” James laughs tiredly, setting his box down on the floor while they wait for the elevator. “And last I checked, you haven’t been helping me move any of our shit. Do you have any idea how heavy your shoe collection is?”
Sirius scoffs, waving his arms about dismissively. “I am helping! I’m providing you with—”
“Sirius, if you say moral support, I will drop this on your foot.”
“—friendship and moral supp- oh-kay.” Sirius cautiously steps away from James. “Plus, I totally brought some boxes up earlier!”
James fixes Sirius with an incredulous look as the elevator’s ding! invites the two of them inside. “Your poster box does not fucking count. That thing weighs like half a pound max!”
Sirius presses the fourth floor button. “It’s precious cargo! It weighs eighty pounds in my heart.”
Running a hand through his curls, James sighs fondly. “I don’t even know why I keep rooming with you.”
The elevator opens and James lifts his box once more, hauling it to Sirius’ door, which was much closer to the elevator.
“No worries, Prongs,” beams Sirius as James catches his breath, “Take a break. I'll take it from here.”
With that, Sirius begins to slide James’ box across the dorm’s wooden floor and through the door that connects their two rooms, grunting with the effort the entire time. James snorts at him, and looks around at the space. It’s so much bigger than he remembered, even with all of their partially-unpacked boxes in various piles around the room. Scoping the dimensions of every wall, James grins eagerly. He can’t wait for all of the parties they’re going to host this year.
“Hey,” calls Sirius exasperatedly, snapping James out of his thoughts. “Stop making heart eyes at my room, okay? Go ogle your own.”
James rolls his eyes playfully and walks towards their connecting door. “Well, if you spent more time unpacking, maybe I’d spend less time ogling.”
Sirius throws a balled up piece of tape at James, hitting him square in the chest. “Hey!”
“Fuck off, Prongs,” Sirius jokes, collapsing himself on his own half made bed. “I’m tired. I’ll unpack tomorrow.”
James watches Sirius swiftly grab his blanket from the edge of his bed, and wrap himself in it. Within ten seconds, he’s fully in fetal position, and looks like he might actually fall asleep like this, despite the fact that it's noon.
“Whatever you say,” James says, about to cross the threshold into his room. Then, after some consideration, he turns back around to face the blanket-swaddled Sirius. With faux contemplation, he carefully adds, “You know… the sooner we finish unpacking, the sooner we can invite Peter and, uh… Remus over to see the room.”
Sirius doesn’t move for two seconds, then James hears a strangled sound, and Sirius springs up and out of the bed, almost tripping over himself to stand up.
“On second thought,” chirps Sirius, his hair falling almost entirely over his face, “let’s see who can finish unpacking first. Last one has to buy everyone dinner tonight!”
—
By five in the afternoon, James and Sirius have both fully unpacked and settled into their rooms (James was done first, so Sirius will begrudgingly take everyone’s dinner orders later). James props open the door connecting their rooms with an old textbook he found buried in one of his boxes. The hinges creak faintly as the door holds firm, creating an open pathway between their spaces.
James sprawls out on his bed, leafing through a worn copy of a Spider-Man comic while Sirius plops down on the rug in James’ room, fiddling with a small, bouncing ball he'd unearthed from one of his boxes.
"So,” Sirius asks absentmindedly, bouncing the ball against the floor. “You think Peter and Remus are done moving in yet?"
James looks up from his comic, shooting Sirius a knowing glance, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "Why do you ask?"
Sirius shrugs, biting his lip. "Just wondering, you know?"
James chuckles, shaking his head. "Are you asking because you genuinely want to know, or because you’re too worried about seeming ‘desperate’ for Remus’ attention to ask yourself?"
Sirius's eyes widen in mock innocence. "That. Is an extremely bold accusation, Mr. Potter."
“Just looking for some answers, Mr. Black,” James adds coolly. “You want me to text the group chat?”
Sirius sits up languidly. “I mean, I would do it myself but…” He gestures to his phone, charging on his bed. “My phone is so far away.”
James rolls his eyes, setting his comic book down next to him. "Pussy."
“It’s so far, James!” Sirius insists.
James continues, “It’s really sad, actually—”
“Basically in another country.”
“And pathetic—”
“I couldn’t even find it on a map.”
“Fine,” James gives in, like he always does, grabbing his phone from under his pillow. “You are such a disaster.”
Sirius grins victoriously. "I'm your favorite disaster, though."
James feigns contemplation, then shakes his head. "Nope. Peter is. Just because you’re Remus’ favorite does not mean you’re mine.”
Sirius scoffs bitterly, playing with one of the rings on his finger. "It's funny. You say I'm his favorite, but I'm not even in the top three—hell, I don't even have a spot on his monthly rotation—"
James interrupts with a sigh. "I keep trying to tell you, he's waiting for you to stop teasing him and actually tell him how you feel. How the hell is he supposed to take you seriously—"
Sirius starts to laugh, but before he can make a “but I am Sirius” pun, James throws a sock at him, cutting him off mid-word.
"Let me rephrase," James continues, frustration evident in his tone. "How is he supposed to know you're being genuine when he sees you mindlessly flirt with everyone?"
Sirius begins to get up, retaliating by throwing the sock back at James. "Whatever, I don't feel like fighting about this right now."
James sighs, defeated.
Silence falls between them for a moment before Sirius speaks again, changing the subject. "...So you'll invite them up then, yeah?"
James glares at Sirius, who bats his eyelashes innocently.
"You owe me, Pads," James mutters, reluctantly drafting the text message.
Sirius grins. "I always do."
—
Sirius immediately perks up when he hears knocking on his door. James watches amusedly as he fixes his jacket and tussles his hair a bit before opening the door, letting Peter and Remus in. Immediately, the two make a very elaborate show of admiring the place.
“I’m sorry,” says Remus with disbelief, “are those two windows? Do you both have two windows?”
Peter whistles, scanning the room in awe. “I didn’t even know they made dorms this big.”
James hears Sirius start to snicker next to him, and promptly slaps a hand over his mouth before Sirius can make the predictable, terrible joke that they all know is coming. After being effectively silenced, Sirius weakly protests.
“Don’t worry, Sirius,” Remus consoles, tilting his head to the side and leaning his back against Sirius’ bed. “It’s for your own good.”
Sirius bites James’ hand in protest and James surrenders, shoving Sirius away from him and towards Remus.
“It hasn’t even been a full six hours,” Sirius says, “and I’m already being silenced on my own property!”
Having sat himself on Sirius’ desk chair, Peter adds, “Technically it’s the college’s property, actually.”
Sirius pauses for a moment, taking a deep breath, and then moves towards his bed to grab a pillow.
Tip-toeing towards the door to his room, James warns, “Remus, you might want to—”
“Way ahead of you,” says Remus, following James. “You wanna give me a tour of your room in the meantime?”
James shrugs. “Yeah, sure, why not?”
Finally catching on to what’s about to happen, Peter says, “Wait, wait. No, guys don’t go, he’s gonna— AH! Sirius, stop, I’m sorry!”
James and Remus close the door, and laugh at the muffled sounds of Sirius vengefully bludgeoning Peter with a pillow.
—
James does give Remus a proper tour of his room, and eventually has to start over and do it again when Sirius and Peter rejoin them. Afterwards, the group decides to explore Sirius' room. As they make their way around, Sirius proudly shows off his collection of rock posters, his prized possessions, and his meticulously organized closet.
"It's like a museum in here," Peter remarks, awe evident in his voice.
Sirius grins, puffing out his chest. "Only the best for the King Suite."
Remus turns to James, a knowing half-smile on his face. “He didn’t help carry any of his shoes up, did he?”
“Not a single pair,” answers James.
“Hey!”
—
By seven o’ clock, they’re all sat on James’ floor eating take-out, and listening to Peter finish recounting his latest Hinge-date-from-hell story, while Sirius’ record player sounds in the other room.
“Wait,” interrupts James, sitting up suddenly. “I’m just realizing that we haven’t spoken about this yet. You guys are in the building too, right?"
"Yeah, I'm just one floor down on third," Remus replies, leaning back on his hands.
"I'm on second," Peter chimes in.
"You see that, James?” Sirius wears an expression of mock indignation, nudging James playfully. “They're breaking up our family because they wanted to have their own single rooms like losers.”
"It's such a shame," James plays along, wiping a fake tear from his eye. “They don’t even care about the future of the Marauders. Traitors, I say, traitors!”
Rolling his eyes and lazily standing up, Remus interjects, "And on that dramatic note, I'm gonna head back to my room. Any of you guys wanna join?"
Instantly, James and Peter share a knowing glance, a silent understanding passing between them.
"You know, I'm still only halfway unpacked. I should really try to be done before I head to bed," Peter says, scratching the back of his neck nervously.
"Speaking of heading to bed, actually, I probably need to be turning in for the night soon. I've got to be up early—" James starts, his words faltering slightly.
"I thought rugby practice didn’t start till next week." Remus raises an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his voice.
"Um… I mean… I should... start… fixing my sleep schedule for practice," James stammers, mustering a fake pout. "So sorry, Moony. I'll come over tomorrow."
Sirius, ever the optimist, jumps up chirpily. "Don't worry about them, Remus. I'll come see your room. I'll probably be spending the most time in there anyway."
"Right," Remus says, his grin almost concealed by his clenched teeth. "Come on then."
As Remus and Sirius leave the room, Remus dragging Sirius along by the collar of his jacket, James and Peter both drop their heads in their hands, a sense of resignation washing over them.
"I can't believe we're gonna go through another fucking year like this," Peter mutters helplessly.
James’ reply comes wearily, "We are the bravest people on the planet, Pete.”
—
Peter leaves after a while, and James finds himself scrolling aimlessly on his phone until he hears Sirius returning an hour later, the faint scent of cigarette smoke clinging to him, indicating he and Remus must have gone out for a smoke break.
Sitting up on his bed, James watches as Sirius leans against the open door frame that connects their rooms and lets out a groan of frustration.
"Come here, Sirius," James calls out softly.
Sirius pushes off from the doorframe and walks over to James' bed, taking a seat next to him.
"He's so pretty," Sirius groans, his voice laced with longing.
"I know," James replies.
"And funny," Sirius adds.
"I know," James repeats.
"And I really, really need to tell him," Sirius confesses, his voice tinged with anxiety. "But I know that if I do that, that it's gonna fuck everything up and he's never gonna talk to me again. And I really don't know what I'd do with myself if that happened."
Softly, James responds, "I know."
They sit in the quiet for a moment, the weight of Sirius's fears hanging heavily in the air as he slumps against James, his expression clouded with uncertainty.
Then, James breaks the silence. "Wanna explore the hallway to take your mind off it, see who we’ll be getting noise complaints from for the next two semesters?"
A slow grin spreads across Sirius's face, a glimmer of mischief shining in his eyes.
—
They start with Sirius's side of the hallway, looking at the names written on every door, mentally taking note of each one. They see some familiar names, like Marlene, Lily, and Mary (who all seemed to be hanging out in Mary’s dorm, doing their traditional pre-semester Mean Girls watch — because Marlene has been in love with Rachel McAdams since she was fifteen) and some of James's rugby mates.
As they continue down the hall, they check out the communal bathrooms, noting their recent renovation and impressive quality.
Circling around to James's side of the hallway, Sirius remarks, "So far none of my mortal enemies, so that's a good sign."
James chuckles, “See? I told you. It’s gonna be a great senior year—”
Putting a hand on James’ chest, Sirius suddenly stops dead in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. James curiously follows Sirius's gaze and freezes, his breath catching in his throat. There, right next to James’ dorm room, is a name etched on the door: Regulus Black.
For a moment, there's silence, broken only by the distant hum of the building's ventilation, and the sound of the late-comers moving around furniture. Then, Sirius's voice cuts through the air, dripping with incredulity and a hint of suppressed anger.
"You have got to be fucking kidding me."
—
James spends the next half hour of his life trying to convince Sirius not to talk to the RA.
Back in the sanctity of their dorm, Sirius paces the floor frantically. He whirls around to face James, his expression a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "This is fucking ridiculous," he protests, his voice rising. "I don't want to be anywhere near him, and I have no doubt that the feeling is mutual. And he's a fucking junior , why is he even allowed a single on this floor?"
James sits at the edge of Sirius’ bed cautiously, afraid if he makes any sudden movement, Sirius might actually explode. "They made junior housing random this year, remember? It's out of our control."
Sirius continues pacing back and forth, running a hand through his hair in agitation. "I'll switch rooms," he declares suddenly. "I'll switch with Remus or Pete or something, anything to be as far away from him—"
"Sirius, stop," James interrupts firmly, stepping forward to place a reassuring hand on Sirius's shoulder. "We've been aiming for the King Suite since freshman year. There's no way in hell I'm letting you walk away from our dream. And besides, I'm the one who lives right next to him, right? How often do you even see the people on your floor anyway? I'm sure your schedules are so opposite that it won't even be a problem."
Sirius meets James's gaze, searching for reassurance, and finds it in the unwavering confidence in his friend's eyes. "It's gonna be okay, alright Pads?" James adds, his voice softening with sincerity.
Sirius exhales slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Alright," he concedes, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yeah, you're right."
"I literally always am," James quips with a playful grin, stifling a yawn. "God, I really am tired though. I'm gonna start getting ready for bed."
Sirius chuckles, rolling his eyes affectionately. "You are such an old man."
James shrugs, flashing Sirius a cheeky grin as he heads back towards his room. "Says the one who complained about a singular flight of stairs earlier."
Sirius flips him off playfully, eliciting a full-body laugh from James.
—
As James and Sirius both get ready for bed, their nightly routine unfolds in synchronized harmony. James slips on his plaid pajama shorts, and takes off his glasses. Sirius ties his hair up into a ponytail, the strands falling neatly into place as he flicks on a dim LED light, casting a soft glow across the room.
Before closing the door connecting their rooms, Sirius turns to James with a wry grin. "Alright Prongs, you're waking up at an unholy hour in the morning, I assume?"
"You already know, ba-by," James replies with a smirk, his tone riddled with mock enthusiasm.
Sirius shakes his head in mock disbelief. "You're insane, like actually insane."
"Not as insane as the one who has been helplessly pining for one of his best friends since high school," James retorts playfully. "How long has it been? Seven years?"
"Touché," Sirius concedes with a chuckle, closing the door behind him.
"You know I love it when you speak French to me," James teases, his voice trailing off as Sirius disappears into his own room. “You should try it on Remus!”
"Goodnight, dickhead!" Sirius calls out from the other side of the door.
"Love you too. Goodnight!" James responds, the warmth evident in his voice as he settles into bed.
With a contented sigh, James turns off his lights and reaches out to switch on his fan, the rhythmic whir drowning out any lingering noises from the bustling dormitory outside. The cool breeze caresses his skin, offering respite from the lingering warmth of the day as he nestles deeper into his covers.
Closing his eyes, James feels the weight of the day slowly melting away, his mind drifting into a state of blissful calm. He savors the quietude, reveling in the stillness of the night as sleep beckons to him like an old friend.
But just as he begins to surrender to the gentle embrace of slumber, a sudden noise comes from the other side of the wall. From Regulus’ room, specifically.
The muffled sound of Regulus’ door slamming shut echoes through the room, jolting James from his nearly-sleeping state. James stirs a bit, but then tries to ignore the auditory intrusion, settling his head against his pillow more comfortably. He takes a deep breath, and slowly begins falling asleep again, feeling his mind slip into deep relaxation.
But then, once more, the silence is shattered by a sound from Regulus’ room. No, a series of sounds.
The unfamiliar sounds filter through the walls, growing louder and more unsettling by the moment. James listens intently, trying to make sense of the discordant cacophony. Is it the shuffle of footsteps? The hushed whispers of a conversation? Or something else entirely? James discerns that it does sound like Regulus is talking to someone — a guy, perhaps — as a low voice vaguely resonates through the wall. But accompanying the voices is… rustling? James, in all honesty, is having a really hard time figuring out what’s going on.
Then, when one particularly lewd vocalization comes through with startling clarity— “Oh, fuck yes !” — it hits him.
Regulus is moaning.
James jolts upright in bed, his heart racing as the unsettling sounds from Regulus's room continue to echo through the dormitory. Eventually, he hears Regulus’ headboard start to rhythmically bang against the wall. For a moment, he debates whether to do something about it, or try to ignore it and hope for the best.
He could wake Sirius, but the thought of dragging him into the middle of the situation only adds to James's uncertainty. Besides, stirring up drama between Sirius and his brother is the last thing he wants to do right now, especially after the day they’ve both had.
Then there's the matter of privacy and respect. If there's indeed another guy in Regulus's room — and, more relevantly, another guy having sex with Regulus — James knows he shouldn't intrude or make assumptions about anyone's sexuality. It's not his place to out anyone, even if it's just to Sirius.
After a brief internal struggle, James reluctantly decides to wait it out, hoping Regulus’ passionate entanglement will end soon. Surely, they can't possibly go all night, right?
As the minutes tick by, the moans crescendo to a peak before gradually tapering off into breathless silence. James releases a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, relieved that the ordeal seems to be over.
But just as he starts to relax, the moans start up again with increased fervor, breaking the tranquility of the night once more.
“Oh, my fucking god,” James sighs. Frustration mounting, James grabs his pillow and presses it against his ears, desperate to block out the noise.
This was going to be a long year.