Liz

Omegaverse #geraskier , omega Jaskier x1 and alpha Jaskier x2 🌝

Brb gonna go read some more 8th year Harry Potter fics
#nsfwart
#drarry

foaming at the mouth

Morning
#drarry #nsfw

#wolfstar NSFW

“I promise, Professor,” Harry rolled his eyes fondly. “He’s all yours.”

And as Harry closes the door to his office, he hears his godfather excitedly call out to his husband.

“My Moony!”

“Hello, dear.”

Maybe bringing the portrait wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

——END——-

And after a long conversation with his otherworldly companions, a compromise is made.

Harry packs up his stuff on Thursday afternoon at 4 o’ clock on the dot as Remus floats up from the ground floor.

“Don’t forget to eat dinner, Harry,“ Remus said. “I *mean it.*”

“Goodnight Harry,” he says softly.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he watches his old professor drift through the wall.

The next day, Harry wakes up with a crick in his neck, an imprint of his spectacles on his nose, and a newfound tenderness around the situation.

Harry feels a pang of guilt strike him once more at the eavesdropped conversation. It only deepens when he feels the top of his head flush with cold, as if he stepped through a freezing shower, and his messy hair moves slightly from a breeze. Remus was running his hand through his hair.

Remus chuckles as if that statement wasn’t terribly morbid and presses his hand to the canvas. Sirius does the same. Remus’ hand passes through the wall, try as he might to make it touch Sirius’s, skin to skin. Something he will likely never experience again.

“Alright,” Remus sighs. “You and I are gonna have to take a break to do what we should have done a long time ago. Take care of Harry.”

Sirius nods and sighs. “You’re right. Least we can do for him since we both, you know, died.”

“He doesn’t have to take it out on us,” Sirius said. “But…I understand. Should be taking care of him better. This is the third night this week he’s slept at his desk.”

Remus frowns, “That’ll be hell on his neck.”

The last candle dims out.

“He was right miffed with us,” Sirius huffed.

“And he has a right to be. He’s under stress and he doesn’t want to listen to us all day. I remember exams month, it’s a rough time for teachers and students.”

Remus extinguished another candle.

“Well, you’ll have no way of knowing, will you?”

Harry saw the professor’s fingertips close against the wick of one of his candles, his non-corporeal form blowing out the flame. Harry quickly closed his eyes, feigning sleep. Old habits die hard, he guesses.

“-been asleep for two hours now,” Sirius said.

“Good,” Remus hummed. “He’s been working too hard lately.”

“Sounds like someone I know.”

“Please,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t sleep in here when this was your office,” Sirius challenged, resting his hands on his hips.

Later, Harry blinked emerald eyes open to a darkened office, his head resting against the desk. His candles have burned low, his quill still in his hand, the ink bleeding onto the parchment. He must have fallen asleep. But he had woken by the sounds of hushed whispers.

Then, wordlessly, he stepped out of frame from his portrait, leaving the first year professor alone once more in blessed quiet.
It didn’t feel as good as he imagined, though.

“Thank you,” Harry said.

Remus nodded, gave Sirius a look, and floated through the stone wall of the DADA office. Harry turned back to the portrait and could practically see Sirius’s ears downturned in a dog-like shame.

“Sorry,” his godfather said quietly.

The spirit turns to Harry, his translucent face pulled into a slight frown.

“I’m sorry, Harry,” Remus apologized. “We’ll be more respectful of you.”

Harry immediately began to feel guilty for his outburst at his godfathers. He just couldn’t take one more innuendo-

Remus has a terribly neutral look on his face and Sirius looks stricken, yet slightly angry.

“You-“

“Are right.” Remus interrupted. Sirius’s mouth hung open in surprise, whirling around to his husband.

“But Moony-“

“This is his space, Sirius, and we haven’t been respecting it.”

Time had no meaning to a portrait and the afterlife was just a blink of an eye for a ghost.

“You’re the one who reintroduced us!” Sirius argued.

“And I never should have,” Harry snapped. “I regret the day I did, I’ve known no peace since then!”

“No. You two have been flirting nonstop for weeks and I’m sick of it! I’ve got students to teach, papers to grade, and I can’t focus when you two are practically snogging through the canvas. It’s annoying!”

Remus and Sirius both look a bit ashamed at their behavior. They *had* been together a lot.

“Harry,” Sirius pouted, “You wouldn’t possibly-!”

“I can and will,” Harry turned in his chair. “You two are distracting me and I have papers to grade.”

“But Harry-“

Harry massaged his temple. He was getting a migraine.

The ghost looked amused, yet taken, with the gesture. He laughs quietly and whispers to Sirius.

“Oh Moony~if I could reach through this portrait-“ Sirius began.

“Okay!” Harry interrupted a bit too loudly, his ears bright red and burning, “You two, separate!”

The two were flirting again, muttering and whispering among themselves as Harry tried (and failed) to grade papers. Exams were coming up. The portrait of his greyed godfather, taken in 1995 (only three months before the his death), squished himself on the side of the frame closest to Remus.

Professor Lupin was happier talking to his Sirius portrait, and that made Harry swallow some of that guilt he felt for both of their untimely deaths. But soon the flirting took a turn from schoolboy jabs to something more explicit.
Sometimes Harry wanted to ram his head through a wall.

Harry was sympathetic- he’d seen how Remus changed after Sirius’s death. The lycanthrope became greyer, more hollow. He found comfort in someone else’s arms, and Harry wondered if Tonks’ relationship to Sirius (or perhaps her penchant for changing her appearance) had anything to do with it.

Harry should have never reintroduced the two. He has known no peace since.

It started with lunchtime visits from the spirit. Then, chairs were moved right in front of the portrait, as if Remus pulled up a chair to talk to his late husband.

Harry was devastated the first time he saw Professor Lupin’s apparition, sitting calmly in the window of his classroom. Remus, seemingly at unrest until his son was taken care of, was stuck at Hogwarts. Harry didn’t mind.

Neither did Sirius’ portrait.

So, when he was offered the position as the DADA professor…well, he thought what better way to come full circle than keep Sirius close to him in the only place he truly called home. There was one tiny problem, though. Sirius likes to flirt, specifically with the ghost of one Remus Lupin.