PROMPT: based on treacherous by taylor swift. slight enemies to lovers? James Potter and Y/N can't stand each other until they get to know each other.

A/N: does not follow the timeline at all. the events are not accurate but let's pretend for the sake of the fic lol.

WARNINGS: mentions of death, a bit of wolfstar, and some sexual tension (brief)

"You're so goddamn reckless." James hissed, slamming his fists down on the kitchen table. "You need to wait for my command. This wasn't a solo mission, Y/N/N. We work as a fucking team around here."

"If I waited for your command, Prongs," you replied, rising from your seat. You acknowledged his nickname with a bitter taste in your mouth. You knew you had to listen to James because everyone listens to James but you knew your plan would work. "We wouldn't have gotten the mission done."

"You went rogue!"

"But we got it done, right?" you seethed, eye drilling holes in Prongs' skull. You felt Sirius offer a comforting hand, placing his on top of yours. Your eyes flickered to look at your best friend, features visibly softening. You sighed, slowly feeling yourself come down from your anger. "That's the important thing, Prongs. I'm done talking about this."

"Yeah we got it finished but at what cost?" James pushed, not backing down from his dominant exterior. "You could've died, Y/N. We don't trade lives around here."

"You don't have to act like you care about my well-being, Potter," you spat, starting to limp away from the briefing. You sustained some minor injuries because of your decision but you knew you'd do it again if it came down to it. "We all know you just don't want another person's blood on your hands."

It was a low blow. Everyone in the house knew that James was feeling guiltier and guiltier everyday because of the events that happened over the past few months. The McKinnons, the Prewetts, his fight with some Order members— all of it was finally taking a toll on James. Maybe it always did take a toll on him and he just never showed that it did. Nobody really knew what the last straw was but now it was obvious— James Potter was tired, worn out, almost defeated in nature.

Yeah, what you said was a low blow.

James gulped, demeanor changing after your words rattled the room. Remus looked at James apologetically, not really knowing what to say. He didn't expect that from you, nobody did. Lily cleared her throat, fixing the scattered parchment on her side of the table. Sirius stood up and patted James on the back, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze.

"Right, uhm.." he started, blinking back the effect of your words. "We can revisit this some other time. Great job today."

James left the room without another word, your voice taunting him as he walked further and further away from the team. Is that what you really think of him? A leader, if that, who only cared about not being the person responsible for another death? Did you think that he didn't care about you? That you were just a number to him?

Obviously you didn't. You knew James Potter was a good man, deep down. You could see it in the way he put everyone's needs before his. He wakes up every morning and gets everything done so the rest of you wouldn't be burdened with such mundane things. James Potter cooked meals, cleaned the house you all shared, and bought groceries on the weekends because he thinks that you all fighting with him is something he can never repay you for. James Potter thinks that your trust as a team— as a family— is the most important thing in the universe and he's so thankful that he has you all by his side, even if the whole world disagrees with your cause. James Potter is a good man.

You had a loud mouth. You found yourself, more times than you'd like to admit, scolding yourself after you let your mouth run amuck. This was one of those times. You let your anger get the best of you. The only reason why you even got angry with James in the first place was his lack of trust in you. Did he not think you could complete the task successfully?

"Y/N?" A voice from outside of your room called. You tried to get up from your bed, cursing as the pain shot through your right leg. "Hey, you in there?"

"Yeah," you yelled out, realizing that it would be better for them to let themselves in rather than you try to open it for them. "Come in."

Sirius entered, chuckling at your pained expression as you sat up in your bed. You glared at him, propping your injured leg on top of a pillow. "You good there, sweetheart?"

"Just dandy."

He sat next to you, careful not to touch your leg. He smiled at you, sadly, and you knew what was coming next. A lecture as to why you should apologize to James or at the very least take his point of view under consideration. This was almost normal, and it was definitely expected. You and Sirius grew close, attached to the hip at times, and he was the one who would typically talk some sense into you. You knew that he and James were the blueprint of what an everlasting friendship should look like so you listened to him. Rarely were you ever the first one to apologize, though, but you knew this time was going to be one of those times.

"What you said to James.." he trailed off, eyebrows furrowing in worry. "I think he kinda took it to heart, Y/N."

"I know," you sighed, acknowledging your mistake. "I don't know why I even said that."

"You don't like to use your brain when you're angry." Sirius responds, laughing slightly. You push his shoulder playfully. "Just apologize to him, Y/N. You know he means well."

"I know he does."

"So I'll leave you to it then," he announced, getting up to leave your room. "He's in his room, locked himself in there since the meeting."

Ouch. You felt the guilt start to eat you up. Sirius shot you a warm smile before shutting the door behind him. Groaning, you lifted yourself up, trying to ignore the swelling in your leg. Was it the smartest idea to walk on an injured leg? No, but you were never one to have smart ideas anyway and today's events made that clear.

You started to make your way down to James' room but stopped when you saw him exiting the bathroom. You began to walk towards him, gasping in pain when your foot landed the wrong way.

"Goddamnit, James!" you shuffled towards him, gaining some speed. He stopped to see who was calling him. His face paled when he realized it was you and continued to walk towards his room. "Will you wait for me?"

James stopped in his tracks, feeling bad that you were chasing him with a bad leg. He waited patiently as you limped towards him, an annoyed look on his face. "What do you want, Y/N?"

You blinked, not expecting the harsh tone he was using. No matter how many times you and James argued and were at each other's throats, his harsh tone always surprised you. He raised his voice, yeah, sure, but this— this was different. You tried to ignore it, knowing that you probably deserved this. "I just wanted to say sorry for what I said earlier."

He froze up, looking down at his feet. He glanced over at your leg, red with bruises littered over your skin. God you were lucky you didn't die, he thought. James shrugged, "I don't care, Y/N. Is that all?"

"Well, blimey," you snorted, already putting up your harsh exterior, "I was trying to be nice. Get that stick out your ass."

"Are you done?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

That was it.

James walked away and entered his room before you even moved. You were left to crawl your way back to your room, quite literally. Half way through, the pain in your leg traveled to your hip and you gave up on walking. Remus found you dragging your body across the carpet and took it upon himself to carry you back to your bedroom. You thanked him, half-heartedly, not being able to forget James' hurt expression from your sorry-excuse of an apology.

-

It wasn't supposed to be like this. You were all supposed to win the fight. You were supposed to reconcile and have a drink at the house, continuing to dance the night away. You weren't supposed to lose.

Half of the people you knew were gone. Poof. Like they never existed.

You, Lily, and James stayed in the Potters' home, resting after a long day of fighting. Dumbledore left to check on the Order, or what was left of them. Molly and Arthur joined him. Peter was— Merlin knows where. Sirius left to check on Remus. The world seemed so quiet. Empty.

"It's not the end," Lily tried to say, looking between you and James. She paced the floor, unsure if she even believed her own words.

There hasn't been much spoken between the ones who survived. You started to wonder if you were one of the lucky one who survived or if this fate was more unlucky given the circumstances. You lost people you called your family. You all did.

This was a battle none of you expected. It was a surprise attack on the Order during a time when you all had your guards down. One minute, you were all in the backyard, excited as the Weasley's announced another addition to their already large family. People were dancing, cheering, drinking, and for a moment it seemed normal.

And then they came. They slaughtered everyone that they could. You were lucky enough to get out before it got too crazy. You ushered the young kids into the room, casting protective charms as you held onto Percy Weasley with your other hand. You watched people fall. You heard people scream in terror as they were being tortured. You shielded the kids from looking out the window, afraid that if they were to see something so traumatizing, they would never recover. You were sure it would take years before you would.

"I'm gonna help Euphemia out," Lily announced, getting up from her seat. You knew there wasn't much that Euphemia needed help with, Lily just felt restless and she wanted to do something that she could control.

James nodded silently, staring at his shaking hands. There have only been a handful of moments where you've seen James Potter— confident, self-assured, James Potter— doubt himself or be nervous.

The first time was when he put on the Sorting Hat in your first year and he pleaded the tattered hat to place him in Gryffindor, though the hat knew better than to place him anywhere else. Then, second year came around and you four found out that Remus was a werewolf. You accidentally overheard their conversation, and it confirmed the suspicions you've had for a year. The third time was in fifth year when Sirius made the stupidest mistake of his life and told Snape about the Whomping Willow. He was afraid he'd lose his second family because of it, and he knew that Remus' anger was justified. And the last time, before today, that you've ever seen James Potter nervous was in seventh year. It was the day after his date with Lily— a date that took him years to convince her to go on— and he realized that they were not compatible at all. Poor bloke was afraid to hurt Lily's feelings and when he finally told her, she laughed and said, "I know, Potter. I'm glad you see it now."

Now, you were alone with a terrified James Potter and you didn't know what to do. You stared at him from across the room, unsure of your next step. You cleared your throat, "Do you need me to do anything, Potter?"

"Huh?" he looked up, eyes weary and mind jumbled. He registered your question and he shook his head, "No, I'm alright. Um, are you going to be staying here tonight?"

You gulped, "Yeah, if that's alright. I-I don't really have a place to stay, but if you want me to leave I'm sure I can stay with Remus and Sirius."

"No, no, it's perfectly fine," James replied, quickly, getting up from his seat, "I'm sure mum and dad won't mind. Please, make yourself at home."

"I appreciate that," you sent him a tight-lipped smile and rocked back and forth from your heels to your toes, ignoring the pain that shot up your leg with every move.

"I'm gonna help mum."

"Okay."

He left you in the room, rushing to help his mother, but you had a feeling it was to save the both of you from the awkwardness of the situation. Sighing, you began to make your way to your room upstairs. You were half way out the room when suddenly, the room was filled with your friends. Some of the remaining members of the Order popped in, stopping you from completing your plans.

"Well, welcome back everyone," you remarked, sitting on the couch. "Nice to see you."

James, Lily, and Euphemia all entered once they heard the commotion. James stayed by the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Dumbledore take center. Lily and Euphemia sat beside you, on opposite sides. Euphemia gave your leg a light squeeze and a kiss on your temple.

"As you all know, today's attack caused mass casualty," your old professor started, eyes flickering to empty spots in the room that the old members used to occupy. "To prevent such things, we will assign teams to designated areas. We can no longer put all our eggs in one basket. We need to prepare."

Dumbledore continued, "Euphemia, you and Fleamont stay with Mad-Eye. He needs your expertise. Remus and Sirius, your flat is near the Black family home, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Sirius replied, "Wanted to be close, just in case."

Regulus. Sirius wanted to be close to look after Regulus.

The old wizard nodded, "Very well. You two stay there and make note of any movement. We suspect they're having meetings there. Lily, Dorcas, and Peter, you three will be taking care of Hogwarts students who live in the muggle world. They're in Hogwarts for sanctuary, but since Minerva and myself are going to be preoccupied, we need you to make sure they're safe."

"What a reunion, aye gang?" Dorcas chuckled, though her laugh was empty. Lily snorted, shoving her lightly as a move of endearment.

"James and Y/N, we need you two here. This will be our headquarters."

Sirius scoffed, "Professor, are you sure you'd want to pair Prongs and Y/N/N? We've already lost a lot of Order members and I'm afraid that if you pair them, we'll lose one more. One of them will end up killing the other."

"Shut it, Pads," you glared, scrunching your nose, "I'm sure Potter and I can be civil."

"I can be," James added, side-eyeing you.

"What does that mean?" you questioned, squinting your eyes at the boy by the door. You began to get up but Euphemia stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"James," she said, warningly.

"Alright," Dumbledore clapped his hands, calling the attention back to him, "I expect you all to be at your posts by tonight. Stay safe, everyone. Our numbers are dwindling by the hour."

By 11PM, the house was empty. It was only you and James left. You locked yourself in the comfort of your room, staring wordlessly at the ceiling. The house was unusually quiet. There was no loud laughter coming from the living room— four boys who had to grow up too fast. You sighed, swinging your legs down the side of your bed, wincing as you forgot about your injuries.

"Fuck me," you muttered, closing your eyes for a moment until the pain subsided. Once it became bearable, you slipped on your house shoes and made your way down the stairs. You tried to tiptoe down the stairs, not wanting to wake James and go through another awkward encounter. However, once you got to the entrance of the kitchen, you realized your efforts made no sense as James leaned against the cold counter, a cup of tea in hand, and his glasses fogged by the steam from his drink.

His eyes flickered over to where you stood, suddenly making you feel self-conscious. You were wearing nothing but pajama shorts and a large t-shirt that you were sure once belonged to Sirius. James raised his cup a bit as a sign of acknowledgement.

You smiled awkwardly and poured yourself a glass of water, "What are you doing up?"

"I reckon for the same reason you are," he replied, taking a sip from his tea. James snickered, "Nice shirt."

"It's Padfoot's," you chuckled, "Don't tell him I still have it."

"Actually," James started, placing his drink down. He faced you, "It's mine. I let him borrow it and I asked for it a few times now. He keeps telling me he'll give it to me later but I had a feeling he was stalling because he lost it. Mystery solved."

You blushed, "Sorry, did you want it back?"

"No, it's alright. Looks good on you," he coughed, ducking his head to hide the slight blush on his cheeks, "Can't sleep?"

"No."

James nodded, "Yeah, me either. You can sit with me for a bit, if you want."

You pondered it for a moment until you finally decided that a conversation with James Potter was better than staring at an empty ceiling for the rest of the night. You limped to the seat in front of him, clutching your glass of water like a lifeline.

"Are you still hurt?" James questioned, getting up to help you to your seat. He held your arm as you sat on the chair. Once you were situated, he knelt beside you, inspecting your leg, "You are still hurt. Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"It's not a big deal," you sighed, rubbing the back of your neck in embarrassment. "We all had bigger things to worry about."

"Why didn't you just cast a spell on it?"

"I'm not the best healer around," you admitted, looking down at him.

If it was any other circumstance, you would not have admitted your shortcomings to anyone— especially not James Potter. But perhaps it was the toll that the war had put upon you or the tiredness in your system... Or perhaps it was the way he was staring at you from his position on the floor, eyes wide with worry with the candlelight reflecting off his glasses and the look of absolute beauty on his face, that made you become so brutally honest.

"And why didn't you ask one of us to help you?"

You scoffed, "Well, none of you are licensed healers, either. I figured I'd just live with it until it healed the muggle way."

"Always so prideful, you are," he chuckled, pulling out his wand. He muttered a simple incantation and then studied your once injured limb. "There. Better?"

You looked down at it, pleasantly surprised that it was indeed better. You nodded, a skeptical look on your face. James dusted off his pajama pants and made his way over to the seat he occupied before. You tilted your head, "Where did you learn that?"

"I learned for Remus," James said, "After his transformations, sometimes he would still be in pain from turning so I learned a few things to help him. Sometimes it helped, sometimes it didn't but Remus always says that just the thought that I wanted to help him helped with his recovery. Load of rubbish, I say but who am I to decide that, right?"

"Wow."

James laughed at your reaction, drinking from his tea once more. A playful smile appeared on his lips, "I do have a heart, you know. I'm sure everyone else can see that but you."

You rolled your eyes, "I know you have a heart, Potter. That's not why I can't stand you."

"Enlighten me then."

"Well, Godric, where do I start?" you hummed, a laugh escaping your throat. Now it was his turn to roll his eyes, smirking at your answer. You bit your lip, "Let's see... you're arrogant, cocky, obnoxiously loud. You act like you know everything, all the time."

His eyebrows shot up. James' tongue poked out to dampen his cracked lips, "Don't hold back, I guess."

"Shut up," you chuckled, "Your turn. Why do you hate me?"

"Because you hate me."

"Come off it," you stared