Fate of Fangs, Claws, and Hearts | Marauders Fanfic / Part 1 (paused)

46 - The Charm of the Redheads

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James' POV:

The joy was palpable. The match was ours. The changing room was filled with triumphant faces - well, except for one. Padfoot was retrieving his clothes, which he had hidden away and magically secured since the itching powder incident.
Yes, that prank had dented his ego, deeply. Ours had not emerged unscathed either, but Padfoot shared a special connection with Lestrange. One built mostly on hatred.
If they truly despised each other, they would steer clear of one another. Instead, they seemed to relish their endless squabbles.
So, there was not that much of hatred?
That was my theory, at least, and so, with a grin, I remarked, »She won’t pull the same prank twice.« My gaze wandered to my best mate, who inspected his trousers and shrugged.
»I wouldn’t put anything past that snake,« he muttered before pulling them on.
»If she’s planning something, we should watch out for Phil. She might serve as the prank’s delivery agent - still waters run deep, as they say,« I ventured.
To this day, I could not fully understand Phil. Moony spent the most time with her, which meant she occasionally reached out to the rest of us. We had played a significant role at the start of her Hogwarts journey, and yet I barely knew her character.
Logically speaking, though, I did not know much about Lily either. That did not stop me from finding her attractive. Every time I saw her, my stomach filled with an annoying, fluttery sensation, and my brain short-circuited. Some of the idiotic remarks I had made would not have crossed my lips otherwise.

Sometimes I could curse myself…

But there it was - I had to live with who I was. I got dressed, Padfoot following suit, the atmosphere settling into a steady hum of contentment.
Soon enough, we left the changing rooms. Gryffindor was ecstatic, the Hufflepuffs downtrodden but accepting their loss with grace. As we stepped onto the field, the team was quickly swarmed - friends, classmates, and well-wishers spilling onto the pitch to celebrate.
It did not take long to spot Remus and Peter descending from the stands. Interestingly, they approached Phil and the other girls. Moony was speaking with Phil, and something she said made him laugh.
»The charm of the redhead,« Padfoot whispered conspiratorially, slinging an arm around my shoulder. »Moony’s fallen for it - victim number two.«
I gave him a sideways glance, then rolled my eyes as he winked at me.
»What?« he asked. »Am I wrong?«
I did not reply.
Even I thought Moony found Phil far too intriguing, though he would never admit it. He would crush his emotions under the weight of his relentless logic, burying them so deep they would only surface months later. But when they did, they would hit him like a tidal wave, overwhelming and all-consuming.
There was only one way to stop him from suppressing burgeoning feelings - constant reminders. Keep them at the forefront of his mind so he could not bury them. Plus, we would have fun teasing him about it, as good friends do.
Remus had always struggled with emotions, overthinking everything, never following his heart when he found a girl attractive. And yes, Padfoot was right - the charm of the redhead was undeniable. Phil was not unattractive either; she belonged to the sweet, endearing type of girls. And she understood Remus, especially the burdens he carried as a werewolf.
Since Phil had come to Hogwarts, Moony’s post-full moon self-loathing had noticeably diminished.

Wait…

Only now did it strike me - yes, my thoughts were slow today - what Phil told the girls when she was absent each month. Sure, she often seemed to handle her transformations better than Remus and rarely ended up in the Hospital Wing, but even we had noticed something was off about Moony early in our time at Hogwarts.
We had asked Phil about it once, back in first or second year. She had claimed that her frequent nocturnal wanderings were well-known among the girls, and no one questioned her fatigue. Later, she explained that her nature as a full-blooded werewolf might account for her resilience.
But what about now?