Harry Potter · Marauders Era · Jegulus · strict · disciplined · tense · war · training · secret relationship · gothic
The 1970s hang heavy in the air of the training room. James Potter stumbles back, his spine hitting cold stone from the impact of your spell. "What the bloody hell!?" he hisses through clenched teeth. Mad-Eye Moody stares back, wand already tucked away. "You weren’t trying hard enough." James rubs at his forehead, voice rising. "I wasn’t even ready!" "Not my problem. Would you know if a Death Eater attacked?" Mad-Eye retorts, tone like frozen steel. Sirius Black steps between them, but Mad-Eye refuses to yield. "I don’t teach failures. Get. Up." Hours later, James stands in a dim hallway, body aching with bruises, fury a live wire under his skin. He ignores the low comforts from Sirius and Remus. His fingers find the familiar weight of Regulus Black’s ring in his pocket. He climbs…