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Chapter Text

Regulus desperately tried to control his breathing, cupping his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound of his heaves and resting a shaking hand atop his heart. He was incredibly out of shape but when he saw Mulciber turning down the corridor with Snape and Avery at his heels, adrenaline burst through him, propelling his feet in the opposite direction before he could swing open the nearest door and hide.

They were always cruel and while Regulus wasn’t ever scared of them before, they became more brash as the Dark Lord gained power outside of the school walls. They were desperate for his attention, for approval from anyone , and they deemed acts of cruelty a surefire way to get what they wanted.

While he assumed being a Black would offer him some sort of protection from the others, it became more of a test than anything. He should know how to protect himself in a duel, cast the Unforgivables with ease, and how to win . Theoretically, he did know but that didn’t mean he was interested in having to prove it every other day.

“Oi Black, where’d you run off to? Scared are you?” the raspy voice of Mulciber called out and Regulus cursed internally knowing he’d been caught.

He didn’t dare move from his spot.

“Poor baby Black, I thought Sirius was the disappointment, not him,” Avery goaded on.

Their steps grew louder until he peered at the small space between the aged wooden door and stone tile and saw a dark shadow looming outside. He crouched deeper into the closet, wishing he could just melt into the wall.

“What’s that spell we learned in class today Snape, remind me,” Mulciber said with an air of amusement.

There was the sound of a slight shifting, the sound of someone pulling out their wand, “ Hominem Revelio ” Snape drawled and there was only a moment before the door in front of him was blasted open sending wood chips flying, embedding themselves into his skin and robes.

He raised an arm in an effort to cover his face but when he felt something warm drip down his cheek, he knew his efforts had been in vain.

“Never thought you’d be one to run away from a duel but looks like I’ve been proven wrong,” Mulciber teased as he twirled his wand in his hand between his thick fingers.

“I’m sure that happens to you a lot,” Regulus responded, already closing his hands around his wand in his pocket and stepping out of the closet to put space between them.

Three to one weren’t really great odds. Normally, maybe, but when the three consisted of two rabid dogs and a snotty rat, the outlook wasn’t great.

Mulciber’s face quickly reddened and whatever Mulciber did, Avery mimicked, but Snape just stood a step behind them, watching the interaction intently but never directly intervening. He seemed to reserve all his anger for the Gryffindors.

“I see you’re looking well,” Regulus commented on the bruise that still bloomed across Avery’s jaw, courtesy of a well aimed bludger to the face after their last Quidditch practice. 

Being a Seeker, Regulus’ sole purpose was supposed to be to catch the Snitch but he was still seething from his sabotaged potion from the day before practice and so a well aimed spell at the bludger had it flying straight to him.

“I knew it was you, you prick,” Avery snarled, pushing forward, wand aloft.

Regulus slowly inched away, hoping that if he just got to a busier corridor, they’d leave well enough alone but everyone was at Hogsmeade today and it was unlikely anyone would come to their rescue anyways.

He aimed to take another step but when he couldn’t do so, he looked down and then back up at Snape who smirked lightly, wand pointed at his shoes. In a swift motion, his wand flicked up and he petrified him, leaving only his eyes to dart around at his surroundings.

“Nice one Snape,” Mulciber said rather dumbly.

“Say, this would be a good opportunity to practise some curses,” Snape said offhandedly, attempting to sound uninterested, but his eyes were alight with intent.

Regulus began to feel actual fear bloom in his chest now. He wasn’t ignorant to what kind of spells the students in the years above him practised in the privacy of their dorms. The dorms often reeked of sulphur and dark magic- it smelled like home.

While normally someone like Mulciber wouldn’t be an ‘ideal’ death eater in the way Lucius or his parents were in that he was rough handed and brash, not very intelligent either, he did have the capacity for brutality. He was easy to anger and quick to fight, ready to settle any disagreement with the raise of his wand and that is what gave him the upper hand here.

“Are you familiar with the Imperius Curse?” Mulciber asked, circling him like a shark to prey.

He couldn’t respond even if he wanted to.

Suddenly, Mulciber’s round face was on his own and he could feel his hot breath on his neck, snaking down his collar. He wanted to rip off his own skin and escape but it was impossible, he was forced to let them happen to him.

He was intimately familiar with the Imperius curse and the way those under it were nothing more than mere playthings to the caster. It was used often by Walburga, specifically when they had company over. She almost always cast it on Sirius and she used to do it to him too until he had learned that taking after Sirius would offer him nothing but punishment and just followed her orders exactly. Sometimes he felt like the Imperius Curse was just ingrained in him.

“Imperio! ”

Regulus felt his limbs relax and he couldn’t really even remember what he was so upset about. After having experienced the curse many times, he wasn’t completely brainless but anytime he tried to think too hard about anything, the thought drifted away and he was calm again.

“Let him go,” Mulciber turned to Snape before turning back, deep in thought, index finger tapping his cleft chin before ordering, “punch yourself in the face.”

He felt his right hand raise slowly and his fingers contract into a fist before connecting with his cheek with a harsh crack. Pain radiated from the epicentre of his cheek and he knew the cut opened anew as warm liquid dripped over the hot skin, making him feel like he was on fire.

The three of them laughed, delighting in his pain and they discussed what they wanted to do next as he just stood there as prisoner.

“Kiss Avery’s shoe,” Mulciber ordered next.

Regulus was slightly more aware of this as he knelt on all fours, feeling the stone floor harshly under his knobby knees and he pressed a light touch of his lips to the crinkled leather of his shoe. It smelled of dirt and shoe polish and just when he was about to pull away, Avery kicked up and into his throat.

He choked for a moment, gasping for air until, “Follow us.”

He immediately ceased his choking, stood up quickly, and followed two steps behind them- wherever they went, so did he.

They didn’t seem to have a plan as they just walked aimlessly around the school. They told him to hex a first year Hufflepuff, which he did, to step on his own feet, which he did, and soon enough they were outside.

“Climb up that tree, then jump out of it,” Mulciber ordered, elbowing his cronies. He definitely broke his ankle in the fall and then proceeded to limp to their destination.

It wasn’t until they were in front of the Black Lake that the cloudiness began to fade just slightly, his vision slightly clearing as his mental faculties worked to grasp at any tether to himself.

Avery whispered something to Mulciber who smirked before picking up a stick from the tree he’d just jumped from and commanded, “Fetch.”

He threw it with as much force as he could and it landed in the centre of the lake, at its deepest point, ripples from the disruption flowing outward.

Regulus didn’t know how to swim.

He’d never learned and never considered that it would come back to haunt him.

“And while you’re down there, bring us back five large stones would you?”

It was pointless but that was the point. They could’ve ordered him to just drown himself but that wouldn’t be fun would it, it would be far too quick and painless, this was forcing him to complete an impossible task. 

They didn’t know he couldn’t swim but they’d find out soon enough. It was possible that someone else would actually be able to complete the task quick enough and live, but it wouldn’t be him.

He was being pushed to the lake by some invisible force and when he tried to dig his feet into the wet sand under his feet, it was to no avail. The force was stronger than he and he felt dread coil in his gut and seep into his veins as the dark water slowly consumed him.

He watched numbly as first his shoes disappeared, then his knees, hips, chest, until finally, he was under.

He kept walking until the sand gave way beneath him and he was rapidly sinking. His thick winter robes weighed him down and the frozen water made it so all his extremities were numb. 

Still, the pull of the spell was on him and he knew he had to find the bloody stick but it was impossible. He couldn’t tell what was up or down as he tumbled and thrashed, his robes swallowing him up but the water was just as black regardless.

He had never given much thought to how he would die but never did he think he would drown, especially in the Black Lake of all places.

Panic seized him like a vice and even though his eyes were open, it was as though he was blinded because he couldn’t stabilise his sight for more than a moment.

It felt like the gravity was magnified within the inky depths he was swathed in.

He felt something brush past him and he recoiled, gasping, which only caused water to rush through him, flooding his throat and lungs until he was drowning internally.

He floundered, wanting to find a way out, to push off from the ground to propel himself or hold onto something to ground him but it was pointless. The need to complete the task and his will to live were in an aggressive fight in his mind.

Where’s the fucking stick? He thought hysterically, the ringing sound in his ears intensifying.

If he could think, that means they must’ve let the spell go.

The relief was infinitesimal because he was still dying and the fact that he was still under the water meant that the others must have left, not wanting to be caught watching him die.

His breathing began to shallow and his movements slowed as he felt himself slowly drift downwards, the pressure building in his ears and exploding through his mind. His eyes were weighed shut and soon the drowning gave way to weightlessness. His mouth opened slightly, water moving in and out of his body as if he was a part of the natural environment within the Lake.

It was rather nice actually. He couldn’t help the thought that floated unbidden to the forefront of his mind- Maybe he should just give in? There was no point in fighting the inevitable really and what did he have out there that was worth living for? Fighting for?

He made up his mind before it emptied again and all he felt was the cool water threading through his fingers and hair, encasing him, preserving his slowly cooling corpse.

________

Water whipped past him in a frenzy before he burst through the glass surface of the water.

He was weightless for another moment, flying in a seamless arc across the sky, before he connected with the ground with a harsh thud.

He gasped upon impact, opening his eyes wide and seeing the grey sky above him. The clouds hung heavy in the air, full with the promise of rain, and Regulus never thought he’d see the sky again.

Water propelled up through his throat and he immediately coughed it up and turned his strained neck to vomit the rest of the meagre contents in his stomach.

His body was numb when still but anytime he tested his arm or leg, it shrieked in pain.

When he turned back to the lake, he saw a black eye the size of an ostrich egg blink back at him once before dipping back under the water.

He couldn’t even begin to process that right now.

His teeth began to chatter relentlessly and he felt horribly dizzy but he was sure to die from hypothermia now if he didn’t get inside and to Madam Pomfrey immediately. He didn’t want to go to her but he supposed he’d sacrifice his ego to live just to end the persistent pain cycling through him.

Despite the refusal of all his muscles, he managed to stand up and froze for a moment to outlast the dizziness that overtook him lest he keel over again.

His ankle was still incredibly broken and he decided to cast a disillusionment charm so no one had to see his walk of shame to the infirmary.

In hindsight, he realised that it might have been a bit stupid to do so in case he fell and passed out in the middle of the corridor and was just left there until someone tripped over his invisible form but he used it as motivation to make it there.

His jaw began to ache from how hard he trembled and his robes continued to weigh him down even outside of the water as they dragged along the floor behind him. The cold air coupled with it in a horrible medley of pain and he just didn’t want to feel anything anymore.

He almost cried when he made it to the crisp white doors of the infirmary and raised a battered hand to the door before pushing through it using the full weight of his body.

His eyes landed on the form of James Potter, standing next to Sirius, who was sitting on the bed of a sleeping Remus Lupin right by the door. They looked at him, or rather the intrusion, with confusion at the same moment Madam Pomfrey bustled into the room from somewhere in the back.

He figured he was in safe enough hands before dropping the disillusionment which was all he could do before he passed out again, hitting the floor with another crack.

________

Regulus woke up a few hours later, if the night sky visible through the windows was any indication, to Madam Pomfrey shoving a vial of green sludge down his throat.

He choked and spluttered, “What is that?” he asked, voice coming out harsh and scratchy. His throat felt a stark contrast from before, once filled with water and now as dry and brittle as the sand on the shore.

“It’ll help with the twitching,” Madam Pomfrey said kindly.

Regulus’ hand was relentless and he wouldn’t even have noticed it had the mediwitch not mentioned it.

It had been an unfortunate side effect of the Imperius, that much he already knew. He always dealt with tremors after Walburga had been especially violent during one of her episodes. He had a feeling this one would last.

Madam Pomfrey put a hand on his shoulder and he pulled back violently, feeling the light touch overwhelming.

He still felt like his body wasn’t even his own and today was a reminder that it wasn’t, not really, against someone powerful enough.

The witch looked at him sadly but kept her hands to herself and instead, used her wand to lightly hover the remaining potions in front of him so that he may pluck them from the air himself.

He did so then but made no move to take them.

“Regulus, dear, I must ask, what happened?” she asked, brows furrowed together, lips turned down. 

“C-Can I leave?” he asked, remembering not only who else was in the room but needing privacy, time to gather whatever of himself remained.

“I’m afraid I’d like to keep you overnight for observation, if all goes well, you can be released in the morning but I need you to tell me what happened for you to come to the Hospital wing in such a state.”

It was almost comedic how much she cared but only because he had shown up here. He could have just as easily trudged down to the dungeons and died there and it wouldn’t have made a difference.

It might have been easier if he had.

In lieu of a response, he laid down on the small cot and turned away from her, shutting his eyes harshly knowing there was no use bargaining for his escape. He didn’t even have the energy to be snarky in return. The last time he used bitter words in a fight had landed him here in “that state.”

She loosed a breath before stepping out, light flooding his bed before she shut them behind her, enveloping him in darkness again. It seemed to be all he was destined for.

He had been surrounded by darkness from the moment he was born. Walburga told him the clouds were so thick it seemed as though they would sweep down and cloak all of London within their billowing reach. From then on it was Grimmauld and then to the dungeons of Hogwarts that was perpetually dark under the haze of the Black Lake that was meant to be soothing but now only reminded him of death.

He heard shuffling and murmuring from the other side of the curtain but he couldn’t care to try and decipher what they were saying. Had this happened to him when Sirius first left Grimmauld, he might’ve strained his ear or even cast a charm to overhear, desperate for any information that slipped from his brother's lips, but he couldn’t even muster the energy to cast a muffliato on them. He used the last of his energy to let his eyes fall shut and release the tension that overtook him.

_____

The easy lull of sleep felt more like a harsh pull, like he was being dragged underwater by a kelpie until he realised that he actually was. His arms were outstretched above him as he was being pulled further and further down and he tried and failed to grasp at anything that could save him.

Pressure was building in his ears and fear gripped him as the water rushed past him. His fear was so overwhelming that he opened his mouth to scream, just as he had done a few hours prior.

He screamed and screamed, able to hear his voice clearly despite the water but it wasn’t enough. He could hear the kelpie cackling violently beneath him as it dug its nails into the delicate skin of his ankle to ensure he couldn’t escape.

No one could hear his pleas for help, for mercy.

He thought he might have been okay with dying had he died in the Black Lake but this made him realise he wasn’t okay with it, he was terrified and now that it was happening, he cried out, desperately wishing for someone to hear him.

His body lurched and his vision flashed from midnight blue water to the face of James Potter, gripping his shoulders hard enough to bruise just above him.

He immediately sat up and jerked away from him, feeling the phantom pressure of his fingertips lingering above him as if pushing him to the bed.

James looked at him as if he was the kelpie, fear and stress mingling in his expression.

“Are you okay? You were screaming bloody murder,” James asked, his voice all too loud in the silent Infirmary.

Regulus just swallowed hungry gulps of air and tried to slow his heart that thrummed painfully against his ribs. His hand continued to shake and he wanted to disappear more than he ever had before.

“I-,” he couldn’t get anything out, anything he tried to say died in his throat.

“You were having a nightmare.”

He couldn’t tell whether it was a question or a statement and he let the words hang in the air between them. The letters flitting about until they disintegrated, leaving the two in silence.

Regulus just nodded, not trusting his voice.

“I know it’s not my place but…what happened? You walked in here like you’d been drowned,” James asked lightly though from the look in his eyes, Regulus could tell he was very much interested in the response.

It was disconcerting to have James sitting in front of him, asking him how he was as if they were friends. 

He had been violated in every conceivable way by Mulciber and the others but sitting under James’ glare made him feel exposed and raw, like there was no escape.

He supposed others might feel comfortable under the weight of James’ hazel eyes but they were suffocating to Regulus who had so rarely ever received the full attention of someone. He was nothing more than a mere footnote in most peoples’ lives that to be magnified was terrifying rather than exhilarating.

“You're right, it's not your place,” Regulus whispered quietly.

Before James could even respond, Regulus had checked out of the conversation. He turned to see a small midnight blue vial resting on the small table and identified it to be Dreamless Sleep. He uncorked it and downed it in one go before laying back down, his back to James.

He closed his eyes but his mind was wide awake, his skin prickling at the fact that James was so close to him, along with his brother and Lupin. His brother's friends hated him as much as Mulciber and the others might and they could easily put him under the Imperius as they had.

That might go against their typical Gryffindor morals but he knew they weren’t above cruelty masked as fun.

He heard James sigh before opening and closing the curtains but Regulus still turned and peeked to ensure that James was on the other side of them and when he saw he was, he pulled his wand from the table beside them and put it under his pillow for easy access.

Regulus was so paranoid he didn’t put it past himself to end up hexing himself in his sleep but it gave him a false sense of security as the potion dulled each of his senses desirably until all that was left was him and the endless abyss of his mind.

______

When Regulus opened his eyes to grey light watering in through the window panes, he thought he might be okay.

It was the slightest moment between waking up and awareness that was Regulus’ favourite time of day. Sometimes the feeling stretched on like an elastic but today it snapped almost immediately as the events of last night and where was today filtered from the recesses of his mind into the forefront.

He gathered his things, changed his clothes as silently as he could, and slipped out of the main doors before Madam Pomfrey even had a chance to check on him again.

He might have felt better with a few more potions but it was an entirely different sort of torture to have to wake up here and he wouldn’t endure it for longer than he had to.

He had to retain some semblance of control of his life before he felt himself shatter.

The walk back to the dorms was uneventful, just as Regulus preferred but when he stood outside the wall to the common room, he couldn’t bring himself to open it, to say the single world that would allow him entry and face the black lake looming above him.

He turned and left to go to the Ravenclaw Tower instead- to Pandora.

When he’d finally trudged up to the tower, the bronze eagle that rested imperiously on the oak doors rattled off a riddle instantly and Regulus wanted to cry, this was why he never wanted to come up here.

The riddles were always stupid but obvious and it annoyed him to no end. Anyone could solve the riddles if they were “creative” enough and he supposed that was the whole point of being in Ravenclaw so he disagreed with the entire sentiment that they were all geniuses in there because anyone with half a wit could get in.

On second thought, that’s probably why those like Mulciber didn’t get in.

The eagle spread its wings out wide before opening its sharp beak and speaking in a deep voice, “You see a boat filled with people. It has not sunk, but when you look again you don’t see a single person on the boat. Why?”

“Fuck me,” he muttered. 

“Not quite,” the eagle responded much to his annoyance.

“They disapparated,” he responded.

“Not quite,” it repeated with that monotone voice.

He looked down at his sodden shoes, kicked at the pebbles on the floor as he thought about it, sifting through each word and what meaning might be interwoven between the words tying them together.

Of course, “They’re all married to each other.”

“Welcome to Ravenclaw Tower,” the eagle bowed before the perch it was on twisted into a door handle that Regulus clasped onto and pushed forward with, propelling him into the Common Room.

It was quite lovely here and Regulus could imagine enjoying being a Ravenclaw if it meant being able to come back to this sight every day. While his family wouldn’t be happy with a Ravenclaw, it certainly was better than being a Gryffindor.

The wall opposite him was covered in glass panelling, each pane depicting a different scene, some of nature while others were of notable historical figures or events. They were much more animated than the standard magical image and depending on the angle of the sun, the scene reflected on the floor beneath them changed, immersing the viewer into a different story each hour of every day. It was too early to see anything but Regulus knew the scene of a grassy meadow always came first.

Bookshelves lined the walls but that wasn’t all for in the corners were easels, paints, sketchbooks, clay, and all other mediums of art. It was a sort of organised chaos within and Regulus could see paintings that others left out to dry and particularly enjoyed the one that seemed to be Flitwick jumping across lily pads.

He walked past the few students that must have fallen asleep in the midst of working in the common room and went up the stairs to the girls' dorms. Most dorms had charms to ensure those of the opposite gender couldn’t go into each others spaces but the Ravenclaw dorms were a bit more intuitive, knowing that not everyone necessarily subscribed to those categories or had different needs  and instead, the charms could be changed only by a member of the house to allow certain people access, with everyone else’s consent of course.

It was a lengthy process but one Pandora had done for Regulus for times such as this.

He walked past doors marked with each year until coming upon the one engraved with a simple, ‘5.’

He knocked lightly and a small mousy looking girl opened the door, he knew her to be Milena, “Is Pandora in? I’d like to talk to her please.”

She looked at him, head to toe, with her glasses that made her eyes bulge thrice their original size. Taking in his clearly distressed appearance, she nodded quickly and allowed him access.

He went to Pandora’s bed where the curtains were shut and whispered, “Pandora?”

He heard shuffling before they were pulled open, “Regulus! I was just doing some yoga, come in!”

He shrugged off his outside robes and climbed in.

Pandora looked angelic in the early light, her shining hair left unbound to flow past her shoulders in ringlets and the pale pink nightgown she wore that hung loosely over her form. Her smile was genuine and her eyelids drooped unevenly as she smiled at Regulus, clearly having just woken up.

He sat across from her at the foot of the bed, pulling his knees up to his chest, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. The blue curtains around her bed just reminded him of the lake that swallowed him whole without remorse.

“What happened?” she asked, immediately concerned, seeming to understand Regulus without him even needing to say anything.

“I just- I- can we-,” he spluttered and he was so frustrated that he couldn’t get out a word as he felt his hand tapping rhythmically against his leg. Pandora watched him patiently, never rushing him or forcing him to get a word out and it was so kind, so much kinder than he ever deserved, that he just began to cry.

He cried in her arms openly, knowing no one would hear him, and it was the safest he’d felt in a while.

He told her what happened, the incident yesterday and thereafter, and that he never wanted to step foot into the Slytherin common rooms ever again.

“You’re welcome here anytime,” she cooed softly to him before pulling out a small bag of Sugar quills she had gotten from Hogsmeade yesterday.

“Sugar helps the wrackspurts,” she explained, unwrapping one gently and handing it to him.

“I can’t believe you’re still on those, I never should’ve given you that book,” he smiled weakly before accepting gratefully despite it not being an appropriate breakfast food.

She left him there a little bit later, wanting to assure Barty and Evan that he hadn’t vanished at Breakfast, and Regulus just sat on a small ledge by the window, staring at the Black Lake in the distance.

He saw vague movement by the crest of the lake and tapped the window twice with his wand, causing it to shift and the scene in front of him was magnified.

It was James and Regulus only watched him with horror as he raised both arms high above his head before leaping into the water, jumping in without any water splashing back up. He was as lithe as a serpent and he felt his heart stop when he didn’t come up for air.

The water went still and Regulus’ heart pounded at the thought that he was drowning soundlessly, with no one to help him.

No one was there and while Regulus may hold no fondness for the boy, that didn’t mean he wanted him to die.

Just before he was about to jump up and call for help, James burst up through the water and Regulus’ could almost hear his ringing laughter from the smile plastered on his face.

His movements slowly ceased and he just floated on his back for a moment, the early rays of sunlight peeking over the mountains and dancing across his sharp features that seemed to absorb the light and reflect it outwards with double the strength.

Regulus tapped the window again, not wanting to see any more of it.

He retreated back to Pandora’s bed and fell into a deep sleep, imagining what it must feel like to float atop warm water rather than drowning in icy depths.

Chapter Text

His plans to stay in the room all day and wallow had been thwarted that evening when Pandora came back with a pair of angry hens behind her.

“All we ask is a letter, a simple note, to say you’re not dead,” Barty practically screeched.

“We had to find out from fucking Mulciber over dinner about what had happened to you yesterday ,” Evan continued angrily.

“Stop it,” Pandora chastised, climbing in to the bed beside him, pulling back the covers and cocooning herself in the soft material.

“No, it’s unacceptable,” Barty frowned, turning away and dropping on top of Pandora’s trunk, folding his lanky body atop it with ease.

Regulus’ heart squeezed because he could see the tension lines in Barty’s features that were so often set into one of lazy amusement that when they took on any other, it was disconcerting. His voice was tight and he knew Barty wasn’t mad at him at all, but rather scared for him.

Evan vocalised those concerns when he picked up, “We were so worried and when we went to the Infirmary, you weren’t there. If Pandora hadn’t come to find us…”

“Dorcas almost went up to Dumbledore herself,” Barty huffed.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus replied honestly, looking at the pair of them, hoping to convey his earnestness.

“I’m just happy you’re here, Pandora told us about what happened, about the common room…we understand,” Evan softened, sitting down in a small blue chair set off from the main circle of beds.

“Have you told anyone what happened?” Evan asked, his kind blue eyes twinkling in the setting light that blanketed the room.

“Course not,” Regulus frowned.

The idea was preposterous. Even despite the fact that he almost died, telling on his classmates was more suicide than their plan even was. He’d never live it down and would likely face retaliation from not only his classmates but from his parents as well who would certainly call him out on his cowardice in a poisonous letter.

There was a moment of fraught silence and then,

“Yaxley told Slughorn who told McGonagall who wants to talk to you before curfew,” Barty finally spoke, and the others looked at him as if he wasn’t meant to say that.

“What do you mean?” Regulus turned his head to look at his friend who was chewing anxiously on the corner of his lip.

“Yaxley overheard what they did and he’s currently failing Potions so he told Slughorn in hopes that he’d gain some favour and get an extension on the paper that was due two days ago,” he sighed.

“And you lot were planning to tell me when?” He turned back to Evan and Pandora.

“We knew you’d be upset” Pandora said kindly and she went to put a hand on his knee but he shuffled away before she could.

“Cheers,” he mumbled before getting up and readying to leave.

“We brought you this,” Barty said, scrambling up and pulling a small box out of his pocket. 

He tapped it with his wand and dropped it so that Regulus’ full trunk appeared on the floor right next to Pandora’s.

He paused, knowing his anger at his friends was displaced anyways, “Thank you.”

Spelling it open and grabbing a spare pair or robes, he went to the connecting restroom to change and it was only when he looked in the mirror that he realised just how bad he looked. 

His skin looked grey and pallid and he had deep blue circles under his eyes making them look bruised. He still had the slight cut on his cheek from when Mulciber first blasted the door open and his hair looked crunchy from the water and lack of aftercare. Even despite the visual, he still felt dirty, like his skin had a layer of grime coating it.

After jumping into the shower and washing himself off with Pandora’s flowery soaps, he changed into thick robes once more before bidding his friends goodbye and making his way to the Great Hall where McGonagall likely was.

He didn’t know what she wanted to say to him. She would probably blame Slytherin house as a whole and maybe make it somehow his fault for duelling a fellow classmate and sentence both him and Mulciber and his crew to detentions for a few weeks.

He didn’t have any misconceptions that the adults in this school cared for him.

The halls were a bit loud with students filtering out of the Hall planning to go up to their common rooms to chat away and wind down from the day.

What would it be like for him for his biggest worry to be about what might be on Slughorn’s test? Who he would go to Hogsmeade with? What one student gossiped about another?

He wouldn’t say he wallowed about it, he knew full well what his future would look like from the moment he knew it wouldn’t be ordinary but it shocked him every time he remembered that what he did at school didn’t necessarily matter- it was all just a formality before he entered the real world to fully seat himself in his role as “heir.”

The chatter still emanating from the Great Hall could be heard from down the corridor and with each step he took, he steeled himself. He held his chin high, straightened his back so each vertebrae was stacked directly atop the other, and walked from heel to toe, on and on until he stood at the threshold.

He paused for the briefest moment to eye the Slytherin table. Mulciber and his cronies were nowhere to be found and he allowed himself a quick breath.

Apparently of their own volition, his eyes flitted briefly to Gryffindor table, immediately drawn to Sirius and his cronies. Sirius had his arm slung around Remus’ shoulders while he talked animatedly to a girl named Mary who laughed at whatever he was saying loudly. James was sitting across from her talking in low tones to Peter, who just nodded fervently at whatever he was saying.

Regulus didn’t know why he expected James to be sitting at the table as miserable as he was, still sopping wet from his morning swim, and perhaps a bit traumatised like him but he just sat with ease, absentmindedly taking bites of his dinner.

He pushed past other students to the front  until he was facing Slughorn and McGonagall, the only two professors at attention today, besides Binns who was hovering over the Hufflepuff table.

McGonagall waved her wand once and he felt a tingle of magic set over and around him and he realised she must have set a silencing charm and he didn’t know whether that eased him or not.

“Mr. Black,” Slughorn greeted, shoving the last two bites of his food in before continuing, “Mr. Yaxley told me what happened and before you can try to deny what happened, his story was then confirmed by a very worried Madam Pomfrey.”

Okay.

He stayed quiet.

“Why didn’t you come to one of us? This is a very serious matter. As you might have noticed, Mulciber, Snape, and Avery are not with us tonight as they have each been sent home for an extended suspension,” Slughorn finalised.

Regulus couldn’t help but smile a little despite his best efforts to thwart it. It was more than he could have hoped and he felt a flicker of satisfaction flush through him as this interaction was going better than he had expected.

“Furthermore, he also reported that you were not seen in the Slytherin dorms last night,” McGonagall added tersely.

Regulus ought to glue Yaxley’s lips closed. He was willing to break the taught silence he and Sirius held just to find out what spell he used to glue his posters up at home that thwarted all of Walburga’s spells to remove them.

No one has really gotten in trouble for not staying in their dorms as that isn’t usually a common occurrence, especially for Slytherins who usually have immense loyalty to their own house and dorms. He didn’t know how strong the punishment would be for just one day away though he knew he wouldn’t be going back anytime soon.

“No I was not,” he answered when he knew they wouldn’t be continuing without some sort of response from him.

“I wonder if it may have something to do with the Lake?” she asked. Her expression seemed tense but her face always seemed set into one of distaste but her eyes were kind and open behind her thin wire-framed glasses.

The mere mention of it caused him to cringe slightly and while he tried to suppress it, it still must have shown up on his face because both Professors then turned to each other and nodded once.

McGonagall was about to speak but shifted her eyes to somewhere behind Regulus and spoke in a much louder voice, “Mr. Potter, a minute?” She must have wordlessly dropped the charm and when he looked around, the Hall was practically empty save for a few stragglers who wouldn’t have been able to overhear their conversation anyways.

He felt his heart start to beat a bit quicker, what did Potter have to do with any of this?

After a few bounding steps, Potter showed up next to Regulus, breathing heavily as if always on the verge of finishing a marathon and while Regulus could feel his eyes land on him, he didn’t dare return the look.

“Mr. Potter, you take a swim in the Lake every morning, is that correct?” she inquired pointedly.

The boy seemed shocked, as if he was being very secretive about it but even Regulus thought that was a bit presumptuous of him considering the one time he looked out of the window, he saw him, floating openly on the water without a care in the world.

He spluttered but McGonagall continued, “You are not in trouble, it’s just a question.”

“Yes I do,” he answered.

“I wanted to ask if it was possible for you to teach Mr. Black here how to swim,” she finished, steepling her fingers in front of her with a small smile.

Regulus thought he would pass out and quite frankly he almost did as all the blood in his veins slowed to a stop and his head was full of static noise.

“I- er- yeah sure,” he answered, sounding a bit unsure.

Regulus couldn’t even get any words out as images of Potter swimming mingled with his own memories of drowning. At the fear the clawed at his insides and continued to leach on him. He couldn’t even stand the sight of the lake and now he was expected to jump right in with his brother’s friend, a man he knew nothing about and quite frankly, never wanted to.

All three pairs of eyes landed on him, “No. I don’t want lessons. I refuse.”

Slughorn picked up again, speaking boisterously, “Oh boy, think of the positives. Swimming is quite good exercise, a thin boy like you could use some muscle like Mr. Potter here.” 

Regulus just eyed Slughorn’s protruding stomach for a moment.

“I mean if he doesn’t want to then…”

“Now Mr. Black, I do believe these lessons will do you some good and I will be checking in periodically. Mr. Potter, I hope you can conduct these lessons with the maturity and grace that is expected of you. I believe these lessons will help you both,” she concluded, leaving no further room for argument.

Regulus genuinely wanted to cry.

While he never would in front of all of them, he felt tears of betrayal burning behind his eyes and he clenched his fists at the thought of being cornered into this, forced to succumb to their every whim.

The two professors left and the Hall was now silent with them being the only two students left but he stayed rooted to the spot, physically unable to move.

“Regulus I-” James began.

That shocked him out of his stupor and Regulus turned sharply to him, raising one finger, “Don’t call me that. We aren’t doing these stupid lessons and don’t come near me again.”

With that, he stalked out of the hall, never once faltering or turning back and Potter did not stop him.

_____

He spent the night switching between sleeping and wrestling Pandora for the blanket, eventually just duplicating it while she slept so they both could rest easily.

While the situation wasn’t ideal, Pandora constantly reassured him that neither she nor the other girls in the room minded his presence, especially because he made sure to stay within the curtains of the bed while they got ready, not wanting them to feel uncomfortable or have to change whatever routine they normally had because of him.

He had Potions first and he didn’t mind being late especially after Slughorn’s antics last night.

Once everyone else had gone and he got ready, he only had enough time to stop by the Kitchens and hurriedly eat a small muffin a kind elf had brought to him.

He strolled into Potions once Slughorn had just concluded his introductory lecture but the chalkboard indicated they were working on Felix Felicis today. He looked up and dipped his head in greeting but Regulus ignored it and went to his seat that was now empty.

He took Potions with the other sixth years after Slughorn had promoted him saying that it would be a ‘disservice to keep him with his fellow classmates in fifth year.’

He usually worked alone as his addition to the class caused there to be an odd number and he didn’t mind, he preferred solitude this way.

When he stepped into the cupboard to gather the ingredients, he felt a presence enter behind him and turned just slightly to see James’ overbearing form in his peripheral vision. He turned back, scanning the shelves for what he needed, not wanting to look at James but knowing he’d probably have to anyways.

“McGonagall spoke to me again today at breakfast about the lessons and asked if we had planned our first one yet,” he said in a low voice.

He turned to look at him and had to tip his head up just slightly to make eye contact. His hair was mussed, as if he had run his hand through it at least a hundred times since this morning. His eyes were bright behind his glasses but his brows were furrowed and that cast a deep shadow on them in the low light of the small closet they were in.

He was far too close to Regulus and he felt like the air was getting used up entirely by him.

“What did you tell her,” Regulus asked tightly, turning back to grab an Ashwinder egg from the carton.

He hesitated then spoke in a lilting tone, “The truth? That we hadn’t made one.”

He couldn’t refrain from rolling his eyes, “I understand your Gryffindor morals may be strong but next time feel free to just lie and tell her we have. You can repent to Godric on your own time.”

“Why are you so against them?” he asked and when Regulus turned sharp eyes onto him, he couldn’t help but think James was being genuine.

“That’s a stupid question,” he bit back.

“I wouldn’t have to ask if you just told me,” he responded, seemingly getting annoyed now and it excited Regulus. He had been coddled endlessly by his friends but the anger and betrayal still burnt under his skin itching for an outlet.

“I can’t swim and I don’t want to fucking learn, that’s all.”

“So what, you’re just going to keep showing up in the hospital wing after drowning? If you just learned, it wouldn’t be so hard, Sirius knows-”

The confirmation that Sirius knew how to swim was so irrelevant, just an offhand comment made by James whose brain was practically rewired to reference everything back to his friend, but it infuriated Regulus to no end.

“I don’t give a fuck what Sirius knows. I’m not doing it,” he grit through clenched teeth.

“What happens the next time your little friends push you in the lake? What if you don’t make it out then huh?” Jame pushed, taking a step closer. He didn’t know how he knew but he supposed McGonagall took the chance to inform him when he wasn’t there.

“Why do you care so much?”

“It confuses me why you don’t seem to care enough about your own life?”

The comment grew like a poisonous vine, puncturing Regulus’ well-constructed armour and winding up around his neck, cutting off his air supply and he didn’t quite know why. He felt his fingertips burn with the promise of magic as it pulsed from his core to his extremities.

Something about it coupled with the way James’ anger was palpable struck him and he quickly pushed past James, summoning his ingredients on his way out so they’d simply trail after him to his desk. The scene may be a bit dramatic to anyone watching him with eggs and herbs following him like loyal squires but he couldn’t be bothered.

Eventually, his mind blissfully cleared as he worked through the mechanics of brewing this particular potion. Each stir and pop of the potion helped soothe him but when he got to the final step- finely dicing the thyme, he was reminded of the incident, again.

He couldn’t hold the knife still enough over the plant, his hand still trembling vigorously and he was at risk of chopping his own finger off at this rate.

When he looked up at Slughorn to check if he was looking, he spotted James watching him over his glasses, frowning slightly. His potion was currently about to boil over the pot and his partner, Peter, was quickly turning the pages in his textbook but he wasn’t even paying attention.

Ignoring him and using his wand, he charmed the thin knife to dice the ingredient and he hovered his hand over the tool to make it seem like he was the one in control.

Finally, the potion was done brewing and Slughorn had commended him on his excellent brewing, even allowing him to bottle it up and keep it for a “rainy day.”

He had done so despite knowing no amount of liquid luck would turn his life around and carried on about his day as usual.

______

The day passed uneventfully and he spent his free period in the Library instead of the Common Room where he would usually go.

As he pulled out his materials, aiming to work on his Charms homework, a small square piece of parchment fell out of his bag as well and he picked it up curiously, unfolding it carefully to reveal looping handwriting that slanted slightly across the square.

Black Lake, 10PM. Bring your Potion if it’ll make you feel better.

J.P.

He reread it once more before crumpling it between his hands angrily.

Not only was the note infuriating but the condescending jab along with it worked as he clenched his teeth, mulling over it.

He vowed not to go.

______

He trudged down the stairs of Ravenclaw tower at 9:45PM.

He was only going to remind Potter that he remained steadfast in his beliefs that he would not do this and hopefully this time, it would absorb through his thick skull and he’d leave well enough alone.

Cool breeze broke through the air, pushing Regulus’ hair away from his face and kissing his warm skin and the walk down to the lake this time, with his awareness and wits about him, was terrifying and he hadn’t really realised how deep the fear had burrowed within him until now.

James was silhouetted against the lake, the moonlight reflecting off the water and onto him and he could just make him out on the edge of the lake in an obscene outfit. He was wearing dark coloured shorts that reached just above his knees and a half sleeve top and when Regulus had only ever seen the other boy in school robes, it was like he was naked in front of him now.

“What are you wearing?” James asked, cocking his head slightly.

“I’m only here to tell you to leave me alone. Don’t waste your saviour complex on me, I’m sure you can find someone else to help,” he ground out with a tone of finality.

James just sighed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head as if Regulus was the one being a nuisance.

“Why can’t you just accept help without being such a dick about it?”

“Because I don’t need help ,” he raised his voice now.

“Clearly you do.” James said knowingly. He stared at him for a few more seconds, assessing before, “Look at the Lake.”

He felt himself falter, “What?”

“Go on, look at it,” James repeated, his eyes blazing under the sliver of moonlight offered by the thin crescent above them.

He hadn’t even realised that he was subconsciously avoiding looking at the Lake, as in really looking at it.

He registered its presence, heard the soft water lapping at the shore but he feared what he would find if he truly looked into its’ inky depths, what might draw him in if he gazed at it for a moment too long.

“You can’t do it can you?” James’ voice was barely above a whisper, so soft that just as they were spoken, they were swept away by the breeze that brushed past them.

“I don’t want to,” he finally spoke.

“Your hand is trembling,” James intoned and Regulus didn’t know how he meant to say it, was it just a mere observation or was it a question? 

“It does that when I’m annoyed,” he answered, unable to remain civil for a prolonged amount of time.

“You’re not a good liar,” James replied swiftly before sitting down, right on the cool grass, just on the boundary where fauna gave way to gritty sand.

Regulus looked down at him, at his dark hair curling wildly around his head and he slowly followed James’ eyeline, slowly inched his gaze across the sand before he saw the black waves climb up the harbour in a soft push before pulling back out once more. He tore his gaze away before he could watch for much longer.

“How did you get out?” James asked finally, regaining his shifty attention.

His voice was so quiet now Regulus was forced to sit next to him just to hear but he kept a healthy distance between them.

He wasn’t quite so sure why he was even still out here but it felt like he would be admitting some sort of defeat or cowardice if he left now, a confirmation of his fear now that Potter had brought it up. He demanded to leave on what looked like his own terms.

“The squid, I think.”

He heard a huff of laughter and turned to see James put a hand up to his mouth with his shoulders shaking lightly, he looked at Regulus and his eyes were sparkling, “I’m not laughing at you, really. It’s just that the squid hates me, and would probably drown me if it got its way.”

He couldn’t help his curiosity, “And why’s that?”

“We planned a prank one time where we dumped all the Slytherins trunks in the Lake, I think we dropped a couple on its’ head and it clearly still holds a grudge,” he offered lightly. “I’m sure he would appreciate a ‘thank you’ for his help though,” James intoned.

“How do you know it’s a he?” Regulus sniped.

“I’m sure they would appreciate a ‘thank you,’” he corrected without comment.

As Regulus thought about what to do, he found his gaze going back to the reservoir in front of him. The surface was still except for a few ripplings under the surface and it was entirely opaque, as if a black sheet had been thrown over the true water and he couldn’t bring himself to remember what the surface looked like during the day.

Yesterday, he only had a few moments before he was under the surface of the water, so deep that even the light couldn’t reach him.

Suddenly, he heard a spark to his side and saw that James had pulled out his wand and he sent a jet of blue light jumping across the lake, making light tapping noises before it fizzled out halfway through.

He sent a few more before a tentacle popped out of the water and flicked what it must have thought was a drop of water but was realistically more like a few litres at them and James’ entire front was soaked.

A few drops landed on Regulus’s robes and he inhaled tightly but he could barely focus on it as he was more preoccupied by James’ absurdity.

He did it a few more times and the squid, probably very peeved now, resurfaced to bat an eye at him once before focusing on Regulus.

All he could do was wave before it disappeared again and it was so ludicrous that he felt a small laugh bubble within him. He had never given the squid a second thought before today and now he was waving at it like a friend he saw in passing in the corridors after class.

James was looking at him strangely now and it made an uncomfortable feeling twist in his gut as if he hadn't expected that Regulus possessed the capacity to laugh.

“Can you just try? That is all I ask,” James pushed.

He should leave, walk as far away from the wiles of James Potter as possible, resist whatever spell is causing him to hesitate.

Despite the vehement refusal that pulsed through every cell and tissue in his body, he found his mouth moving first.

“Okay.”

Chapter Text

Regulus found solace in the greenhouses.

Walburga thought Herbology to be a particularly offensive subject as she deemed it unimportant and worthless, a subject fit only for those who could not succeed in other more respectable aspects of magic.

He didn’t know whether her particular distaste for the subject pushed him to enjoy it even more in an act of silent protest but he couldn’t deny the immeasurable comfort the greenhouses provided him with, especially when the winter months were rolling in and going outside was intolerable but staying in the castle was suffocating.

The warm humid air within the glass walls caused his hair to curl up slightly more and his fingers to become a bit clammy but he didn’t pay it much mind as he crouched to water a row of daisies nestled in a small bed in the corner.

They were a particularly innocuous plant, fit to attempt basic practices on lest students ruin any important ingredients but he thought they deserved some more credit for their perseverance amid snotty and forgetful first years.

He spent most of his Saturdays there, going through Sprout’s to-do list that she left for him and silently leaving once done, just leaving behind a parchment full of little check marks. They had a silent sort of agreement as she trusted him implicitly and really, what mayhem could he wreak when he was sweaty and surrounded by flowers?

On this particular Saturday, he found his peace was disturbed when a distraught Remus Lupin walked in followed by Sirius whose eyes were a bit wild and focused solely on the other boy.

Sirius’ hair had grown quite long recently, flowing down past his shoulder in inky black waves and his face had filled out a bit more, courtesy of the plentiful food likely provided at Potter manor whereas Regulus still looked like a sick child in the history books.

Sirius turned to slam the door shut behind him before facing Lupin once more, eyes narrowed and face set.

He couldn’t even begin to figure out what sort of emotion he was feeling before his face was obscured by Lupin stepping closer and while he considered notifying them of his presence, he remained frozen in the corner, victim to watching whatever was going on.

He raised a single scarred hand to Sirius’ cheek, rubbing his cheekbone with his index finger softly and running his thumb just at the edge of his lips.

“Moony,” Sirius whispered and his voice was almost a…whimper?

Regulus watched in horror as Lupin’s face neared closer and closer to Sirius and he hadn’t even realised when the watering can slipped from his fingers, falling to the ground with a resounding clatter, the tin reverberating in the room, amplifying the sound.

The two jumped apart, eyes wide and mouths agape and Regulus just cursed internally before standing up from his crouched position and making eye contact with them.

Remus’ face turned a bright red whereas Sirius’ face immediately shuttered, his eyes narrowing and lips turning down as he faced Regulus.

“Reg,” he said, voice as icy as the winds that whipped around outside.

It had really only been a few months since Sirius left but it felt like a lifetime and now, bearing the full weight of his attention, his throat closed up, the words dying on their way out.

He didn’t even know what to say. He had been aching to talk to Sirius for so long, following him in the corridors just to turn back around silently or drafting letters that just ended up getting thrown away.

One part of Regulus wanted to apologise to his brother, to explain what happened that night and beg to go back to who they once were but another part, the admittedly crueller part, allowed the anger he felt on that same night to seep into his bloodstream and fill his mind, shutting down the more emotional part of him and refusing to allow himself to get the words out.

Sirius had stepped forward, angling his body in between Lupin and him as if trying to protect him and he couldn’t help but scoff as if he wasn’t the more likely one to lose his head and start throwing hexes.

Sirius always had his guards up, ready to attack anyone for the smallest perceived slight and Regulus just shook his head, more to himself than anything else, and bent down to pick the watering can back up.

It was odd, the boy he grew up with, spent every day and every night with, now looking at him with pure vexation. The eyes so similar to his now held an entirely different meaning to them.

“What are you doing here?” he shot out accusatorily.

“I didn’t see anything if that’s what you’re asking,” he responded, already hearing the implicit meaning behind his question and turned to the tap, more to keep his eyes and hands focused than anything else.

Sirius made a sound close to incredulous and anything he might have said was drowned out by the sound of the water hitting the bottom of the metal container and filling slowly.

Only once he heard the glass door shut once more did he release the tension he hadn’t even realised he’d been holding in his shoulders. He dropped his head down and sighed deeply. 

The interaction with Sirius felt so charged, so significant, but he suspected Sirius hadn’t even noticed. Maybe he just doesn’t care as much as he did and no matter how hard of a pill that was to swallow, he knew he needed to grow up and accept it.

His big brother wasn’t there for him anymore.

Once he was finished and he turned back to the, likely, very dehydrated daisies, he noticed Lupin had stayed behind and stepped closer up to him.

He’d never interacted with him, only ever seen him in passing or in Potions and knew him as ‘Sirius’ friend.’ He had heard others talking about his scars, guessing at where they had come from and had heard theories ranging from being raised by evil muggles all the way to him falling into a pit of devil’s snare, repeatedly.

Neither sounded very likely to him but the one thing he knew about Lupin was that he was rather attractive, unfortunately. 

His sandy brown hair complimented his olive skin well and the light scars that littered his body served well to only further highlight his features, the contrasting colours looking like shadows of light dancing across his skin. His golden eyes were striking, as if lit by an inner fire, and Regulus couldn’t help the slight envy he felt at the sight of them, so bright against his own dull grey. 

“If you’re here to Obliviate me, make it quick, I have the Slug Club tonight that I’d really rather not go to,” Regulus drawled if only to fill that awkward silence that lingered between them.

He looked up to Remus whose smile grew a bit, “I’m not here to do that though if you’d like me to, I can. I charge 100 galleons for my services.”

He couldn’t help the small laugh that pushed out of him, “100 galleons? Bit steep don’t you think?”

“Not when I know you have that and more,” he pointed back, leaning on a table laden with dittany plants, propping his head up with his hands.

Regulus only nodded, “I admire your business savvy,” he complimented and was surprised to find Lupin’s presence tolerable, bordering on enjoyable. He wasn’t as hyper as James or fiery like Sirius but had a calming presence despite looking like an overgrown tree. His clothes looked like something a very old man would find comfortable but it complimented his energy as if seeing him in anything else would look off, he must absolutely be melting by now though,

“I am curious to know what you’re doing in here though because it looks like you’re just in here watering plants but that’s not possible.”

“And why’s that?” he asked, now looking up at Remus from his spot on the ground, the difference only magnifying the height difference between them.

“Because that wouldn’t be very cool and I know Slytherins pride themselves on being cool.”

“Well I wouldn’t be surprised if Sirius began spreading it around the Great Hall already,” he grumbled and only realised after that Lupin might take offence and storm out of here as well and he wouldn’t blame him.

Lupin stayed quiet for a moment before taking up a forgotten watering can on the edge of the table and watering the dittany.

Regulus could practically feel the air change and didn’t want to deal with whatever lecture Lupin was brewing in that head of his.

Before he got a chance to say something though, Remus continued, “I’m sure he found something more interesting on the way to the Great Hall and forgot about this already. His attention span is rather short.”

Regulus saw the humour dancing on his features and smiled, hoping he was right. He was also incredibly relieved that whatever situation he may have with Sirius, he was still able to poke fun at the boy, as if not entirely put under his spell.

He liked to think he was good at reading people but it seems Remus, and James, were exceptions to that little trick of his. 

They worked in companionable silence for just a few more minutes before Regulus finally vanished the mess on his hands and robes and stood up, “That’s all Sprout had on her list.”

“How often do you do this?” he asked, following in suit and cleaning up his station.

“Every Saturday,” Regulus replied, an answer and an offer.

“I’ll be here next week, if that’s alright with you?”

Regulus really treasured this time he had alone in his little green bubble but Regulus found that he didn’t quite mind expanding the bubble just a bit for Lupin.

He nodded before opening the door, feeling the cool air rush into the open doorway, blanketing him in the scent of grass and frost and tempering the excitement he felt.

______

He hadn’t told his friends of the current arrangement with James yet for reasons he didn’t quite know. It was a bit of shame mixed with the fact that he still held a notion that he would cancel them at some point so soon that it was almost pointless to even bring it up in the first place.

The first time he had met James at the lake determined to shut it down, he ended up promising him he would try.

It was fantastical really, a decision made out of the pressure he felt under the watchful eye of James and if it was someone else asking him the same question, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve responded in the same manner.

He hated James, hated him since Sirius came home after first year and regaled all of his stories that happened to include James. Sirius’ world seemed to revolve around James and Regulus could feel that with each time James was mentioned, Sirius was chipping away at Regulus’ space in his life until James managed to squeeze himself into that spot, effectively replacing him.

When he went to Hogwarts the following year and was sorted into Slytherin, he saw Sirius’ face fall. It wasn’t by much and Sirius spoke to him afterwards, assuring him it would be okay but their relationship became fraught as they saw each other less, more involved with those in their own house.

As the years passed, their relationship became even more tense, full of misconceptions of the other and the unwillingness of either of them to communicate properly and it all came to a height when Sirius left Grimmauld.

He would never forget the way Sirius gripped his arm hard enough to bruise, begging him to leave Grimmauld with him but he had to have known Regulus couldn’t.

Regulus didn’t move from where his feet were rooted to the floor in front of the floo and while Regulus was paralyzed with fear, Sirius saw it as him wanting to stay and with a final look of disappointment and pity, he grabbed a fistful of floo and jumped into the flames, yelling out ‘Potter manor.’

In that same instant, Regulus took one step forward.

He had almost gone with him but he was gone before he had the chance.

Later that evening, after his parents had fallen asleep, Regulus padded down the creaky staircase with a small bag towards the floo in a moment of fear as adrenaline coursed through him.

He had cuts and bruises along his arms and legs from Walburga’s outburst upon finding Sirius gone but when he saw that she hadn’t actually chased after Sirius, he felt the sick burn of hope flow through him that maybe…maybe he could leave too.

He grabbed a handful of the same bright green floo powder and took a deep breath before throwing it in and whispering “Potter manor.”

The fire turned red and immediately died down.

Regulus tried again and again until he realised the floo was locked.

He continued to try while tears streamed down his face and his feet burned from stepping into the flames, despite how many times they rejected him. His bag was left forgotten behind him, already singed with the amount of times he had thrown it in, hoping that maybe the floo would accept the bag and Sirius would take it as a sign.He sobbed when it finally registered that there was no escape for him.

Sirius must have been the one to close the floo at the Potters, never considering that Regulus might just need a bit more time before coming after him, never considering that he should give Regulus another chance.

Now when he saw Sirius sitting across the hall with his friends, laughing with them without a care in the world, he felt nothing but numb acceptance.

While he remained lost in thought, he hadn't noticed that he kept his eyes on Sirius who’s steely eyes snapped up to him in confusion.

He immediately looked down and away, focusing on his hands that thumbed the note James had somehow snuck into his bag that day.

It had been a week since their last lesson and he had just gotten past his fear that James would ask to meet again, hoping that he would have just forgotten the whole thing but of course, he remembered.

His only thought for the rest of the evening as he lay on Pandora’s bed while she was still in the common room with Xenophilius was what he would wear.

He certainly wouldn’t be wearing whatever James was wearing but he felt horribly overdressed in his school robes. He wouldn’t be going into the water, that much he was sure of but still, nothing he had seemed appropriate. He didn’t even know why he really cared.

He decided on wearing his usual slacks and button up top, giving the illusion of acceptance but the over-body clothing barrier remaining, a reminder that he will not be jumping into the water alongside James.

He was a bit late outside this time as Xeno roped him into a conversation about black holes and what happens once you get to the end of one. He tried to explain that the whole point of them was that they were endless but he didn’t accept that. Once he had made it past them though, with the promise to do some more research, he walked at a slow pace through the school, trying to keep his heart rate steady before it would inevitably sky rocket once he got outside again.

He cast a warming charm around himself once he stepped outside as the temperature steadily dropped as October was coming to a close now and he couldn’t believe James was still in that swimming costume despite the frigid temperatures.

He supposed the frown was very evident on his face because James had a light smile playing on his lips when he spotted him and called out, “Try not to look so happy to see me.”

“I won’t,” Regulus drawled, crossing his arms over himself. “Are you not cold?” 

“Cold? It’s still so nice out,” James smiled, stretching his tanned arms out, relishing the cold air that caused the hairs on his arm to stand up.

Regulus felt like a washed up corpse next to James whose golden skin seemed to be lit from within, bright against the quiet night that blanketed them.

“Do you have your bathing suit under that or…?” James trailed off, drawing out the ‘r’ sound.

“I told you I’m not swimming,” Regulus said in a tone that offered no space for argument.

“Okay,” James supplied, sitting down in the grass in the same spot they were earlier.

Regulus who had still expected some fight in return stood rooted to the spot and James just patted the earth next to him in invitation and he found himself sitting, accepting that if he made the trip all the way out here, he might as well enjoy the fresh air.

He found it slightly easier to look at the water though the idea of even touching it still sent a shock through his system as panic seized him like a vice.

“What happened that night?” James asked seriously though he didn’t look at him, keeping his eyes resolutely forward as he stretched his long legs in front of him and leaned back on his hands.

“Nothing,” the response burst out of him before he even gave it much thought, an automatic denial. He also knew James had at least some idea as to what had happened based on what he said while they were in the Potions' closet together and couldn’t understand why he’d want to hear it again.

James raised an eyebrow at him in question, “I don’t imagine you would willingly go into the lake if you couldn’t swim?”

Regulus pulled his knees in, wrapping his arms around them and rested his chin atop one knee, making himself as small as he could, an unfortunate habit he had brought with him from Grimmauld.

He hadn’t told his friends the full extent of what happened, only confirming the broken pieces of the story they had overheard from his antagonizers.

He hadn’t told them how he felt , how scared he was in that moment, how he had ultimately given in to the allure of the depths despite having regained his faculties. It felt almost too much, too intimate to reveal that information to his friends that liked to think of him as rather 'cold'- it felt like he'd be shattering their illusion of him.

However, there was something about that way that it was just the two of them outside of the castle where prying eyes or ears could be around any corner that settled him. The only witness to his admission would be the moon who proved a reliable companion and perhaps the squid should they disturb him too much.

Of course there was James but it was in the way that he so earnestly tried that somehow convinced Regulus that it might be okay to tell him this, to explain why they were even in this situation in the first place.

He supposed he deserved that one kernel of information.

“Mulciber and them…they cornered me that day in the corridor. There was no one around and-,” he breathed deeply, steeling himself to just get the entire story out in one go but it was hard when his throat squeezed around each word, “And they cursed me.”

“What did they do?” James gently coaxed.

“They used the Imperius and-”

“They did what ?” James’ fists clenched and his eyes burned with anger and contempt and Regulus couldn’t believe the quick rise in emotion. “That’s illegal they-”

“They’re suspended for a reason,” Regulus supplied and continued forward, “I followed them out to the lake where they threw a stick into the water and ordered me to collect it along with some rocks. Had I known how to swim I might have been able to do it but I immediately started to drown and I guess after a while, they let the spell go and left. They let me go…” he trailed off, his voice becoming tight and eyes burning as he stared out at the water that was smooth as glass now, the air above and water beneath the sheet perfectly still.

“Even after they dropped the spell…I couldn’t make it on my own even if I wanted to so I the squid must have taken pity on me because he threw me out and I made it to the Infirmary,” he finished finally, not wanting to divulge the rest of the details.

That was a burden only for him to bear.

James was quiet for a long moment and when Regulus turned to look at him, he saw nothing but fury written across James’ features and he couldn’t help but wonder why it affected him so. He was spending the day with his friend in the hospital wing, chatting away without a care in the world and yet, here he’s acting like it was he who was hurt.

His fingers tapped against the damp earth, the skin pulling taut around his knuckles before releasing again as if he was itching to hit something. James’ hero complex must be absolutely shattered right now knowing he hadn’t helped someone in need, even if it was his best friend’s horrible younger brother.

When James turned to meet his eye again, readying to say something, Regulus just turned away and back out to the lake, hoping it would convey that he wanted to put an end to this line of questioning.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he replied tightly.

“I don’t need your pity,” Regulus bit.

He could hear the other boy sigh, “Why do you make everything so hard? It’s a shite situation and I am empathising with it, why is that worth being rude for?”

It was a good question. Was it worth taking out his anger on the boy that doesn’t seem to want to be in this situation any more than he does? Who was roped into it because of his own shortcomings?

He didn’t respond in lieu of an unspoken apology.

“Why do you swim so much?” Regulus finally asked instead.

It had been niggling in his mind ever since he saw James effortlessly floating in the lake. He couldn’t imagine swimming as a very enjoyable activity, constantly having to make sure you remain afloat, constantly minding your surroundings- it sounded rather stressful.

“I have a pool at home. Spent almost every day in the summer swimming. My parents were both swimmers as well so it sort of came naturally. Obviously there’s no pool here so I sort of made the Lake mine,” James responded easily, a smile ghosting his features in the memory of his parents.

Regulus couldn’t remember if he had ever smiled at the thought of his own parents. He doesn’t think he had ever even seen them in the garden, always preferring their room or their Study.

“Isn’t the lake cold?”

The other boy laughed a bit, tilting his head back, “Nothing a few warming charms can’t help.”

He was so dreadfully optimistic, Regulus wondered if he ever tired of this facade.

The cool breeze air rustled his robes just slightly and he realised he had never truly come out at night, often staying in the common room or retiring to his dorm after dinner. He was glad to have had this experience at least once before he was to graduate and leave in just a few years.

It might have been enjoyable without James sitting next to him but he would just have to make do.

James stood up suddenly and Regulus just watched him take a couple steps forward sitting down again, this time much closer to the shoreline. Just enough that his feet touched the crest of the water gently lapping on the shore.

He turned back to Regulus, challenge and question glinting in his eyes but Regulus didn’t move, he refused to.

James had effectively popped the pleasant bubble they were in and so Regulus stood up and turned away, sighing before walking back to the castle without another word. It was a bit unfortunate that he had done that right when he was starting to get comfortable but he knew James was probably wanting to just throw him in the Lake and see what happens so he’d take this over that. 

He felt the weight of James’ gaze on his retreating form but he didn’t falter because what would he turn back for?

His feelings were entirely too confusing and he couldn’t even begin to parse through them under James’ glinting eyes.

______

Dorcas had managed to drag him out to the Quidditch pitch the following day.

While she claimed she wanted to watch Gryffindor’s practice to work on their own strategy, he knew she just wanted to watch a certain blonde Chaser who was currently whipping across the pitch with remarkable speed.

He watched as Dorcas’ eyes trailed only her, her notepad that she brought for ‘notes’ completely empty and pencil she brought for that now currently being chewed to the end.

“Why did you bring me here to watch you undress her with your eyes, I feel wrong just watching you,” he complained, wrapping his green scarf tighter around his neck.

Maybe if he did it tight enough he’d pass out and she’d let him go back inside? It seemed like a worthy trade.

“The game is coming up, I need your eyes to catch what I miss,” she said, “And I’m not doing that” she added half-heartedly, apparently still in denial about her feelings for the girl.

“Well it seems to me like you’re missing everything,” he shot back, elbowing her to snap her out of it. “It’s okay to admit you like her, you know,” he addedly softly.

She sighed deeply then, abandoning the pencil and scrubbing at her face with hands.

Dorcas, while entirely confident in just about every other aspect of her life, was practically hopeless when it came to her romantic endeavours. 

It must be a Slytherin thing to be emotionally stunted, it’s practically a requirement at this point.

“I don’t like her, she’s just annoying, every bloody match she pulls out some new move that no one’s ever seen before and is, I’m pretty sure illegal, and she always wins, I just want to know how she does it,” she complained.

Regulus took that as ‘she’s so good at quidditch, and pretty, and I want to know more about her because she’s pretty really because I’m hopelessly in love with her but I can’t tell her because I’m scared of rejection and she’s so pretty.’

He’s quite good at reading between the lines.

His smug thoughts were quickly wiped away when James came into view, having given up looking for the Snitch and now keeping those keen eyes focused on him.

He looked away quickly but when he went back to check, James’ eyes were still pinned onto him.

It’s like he doesn’t realise that when caught staring at someone, they were supposed to feel embarrassed and look away. He doubted James has ever felt embarrassed about anything in his life.

He desperately hoped that he didn’t do something stupid like come over to them.

James was known for many things, smart not really being at the top of the list, and so he, predictably, came over to them, flying at what seemed like a leisurely pace to anyone else but him who saw the intention glinting in his eyes.

When he made it over to them, he had a suspicious look on his face, “Spying on another team’s practice are we? That’s not quite allowed now is it?”

His eyes darted between the two of them and while Dorcas may be focused on him, trying to come up with some explanation for their actions, Regulus kept his eyes resolutely forward.

If he thought his swimming outfit was obscene, James in his quidditch kit was downright sinful.

He filled out his outfit thoroughly as the material hugged his broad shoulders and framed his tall figure well. His trousers were tight on his legs that hugged the broom with ease, tensing as he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest as confidently as if he were sitting on a chair on the ground, not hanging precariously metres off the ground.

He didn’t mean to notice all the details but he couldn’t help it when they practically jumped out at him, begging him to look at them.

“Who said we’re spying? We’re just out enjoying the fresh air,” Dorcas replied easily, twirling a single braid around her finger, the picture of innocence.

“He looks like an icicle,” James teased, turning to Regulus.

“He always looks like that,” Dorcas replied, now looking at Regulus with a bit of worry in her eyes as well.

He scowled at both of them.

“Doesn’t matter how much you stalk us, it’s all up to the Seekers now isn’t it,” James pointed out, rubbing his hands together quickly.

“Good thing we have the best Seeker in the school on our team,” she replied easily, putting her arm around Regulus and squeezing.

James didn’t reply back to that as he thought he would and he wondered what made him keep his mouth shut when they had been bantering so easily just a moment ago.

He didn’t get an answer to that though as alarms rang around the pitch, indicating the top of the hour and the end of Gryffindor’s time on the pitch.

“Until next week,” he finished, referencing their upcoming match and flying away to join the rest of his team.

“He’s a real piece of work isn’t he,” Dorcas snarked before standing up and leading the way down the precarious wooden stairs of the stands.

Regulus followed her and once he was safely back on the ground, he stuck his hands in his pockets, eager to warm them up and felt something sharp poke his finger.

When he pulled out the offending object, it was a folded piece of lined paper.

Lake.

Tmrw sam time

Sry had to write quik

JP

It was written in pencil on the same lined paper of Dorcas’ notepad.

When he looked back up to Dorcas, he saw that her hands were empty and the pad was much too large to fit in her pockets anyways.

She must’ve left them behind but…how did he…?

He couldn’t wrap his head around how or when James did that and he was finding that the more he interacted with the boy, the less he knew about him.

He pocketed it again nonetheless, wondering how he could get himself out of this situation, permanently .

Chapter Text

“Absolutely not,” Regulus replied, crossing his arms and levelling his friends with his most serious expression, trying to convey how absolutely against the idea he was.

“Come on, it didn’t even hurt!” Barty exclaimed, leaning over the bed and shoving his ear into his face.

It was red and inflamed and looked very much like it hurt.

He shoved him back into his spot by Evan who yelped in pain when Barty’s arm knocked him on the side of the head. His limbs were far too long for his own good.

“You have to admit, I look at least 30% hotter now,” Dorcas said over her shoulder from where she was eyeing herself in the mirror, the golden stud in her nose catching the light.

“You think Marl-” Barty began but was cut off when Dorcas turned back to him with a look comparable only to McGonagall.

He doesn’t even know how all of this began.

During dinner, Barty had received a letter from his dad and while that never went well, today was worse than it had been in a long time.

Barty excelled in practical subjects but fell behind in the more studious subjects like History of Magic where it was all reading and rote memorization. He had just failed the last exam and in cases like that, Binns loved notifying parents but the well-meaning professor didn’t seem to realise that not everyone had understanding parents who were ready to help their children succeed.

And while Barty was good at covering up his emotions and persevering, Regulus could see his eyes begin to fill with tears and hands tremble as he read the letter, his eyes scanning the words impossibly fast.

When he finished, he promptly set the letter on fire at the table and left, leaving his untouched plate and the rest of them sat there.

Evan went to the Slytherin dorms to find him but he wasn’t there but Pandora went up to the Ravenclaw tower and found him, sat just outside the door, crouched with his head in between his knees, crying.

Regulus' heart squeezed because he knew Barty had only done so because he knew Regulus wouldn’t, couldn’t, follow him into the Slytherins dorms.

“The stupid riddle, I can’t-” he cut himself off, trying to steady his breaths.

After they had managed to calm Barty down and assure him just how valued he was, he turned to Pandora with wide eyes and suggested just how good of a time this would be for him to pierce his nose, and then rope in everyone else to get ‘emotional support’ piercings. He had a slight tendency towards self-destruction when dealing with strong emotions but then again, who didn't?

Regulus had pierced his earlobes once. It was an unfortunate little situation really. It was the summer after third year when he walked into Sirius’ room to call him down for dinner. 

His hair was long enough to tie back and he usually kept it that way so Walburga wouldn’t be reminded just how unkempt it was and aim to cut it off but this time he tied his hair in such a way that the hair was brushed entirely over his ears, making him look like an earless muppet.

Upon closer inspection, he realised that Sirius had pierced his ears while at school, probably in very unsanitary conditions but the piercing looked well healed so it must have been there for some time and he questioned how he hadn’t noticed it during the school year.

He still doesn’t know what came over him that night when he sat in his room and pierced his ears himself but it was horrifically painful and ended with him teary-eyed and angry while surrounded by bandages that he charmed to be invisible to others. He just thought that Sirius might think he was cool as well, could be as interesting as he was instead of just being the family pet.

Now, he was by no means in a rush to pierce his ear, even with everyone looking at him hopefully with their own matching jewellery.

“I can’t, you know what happened last time,” he gestured to the scars that remained.

“Why don’t you do your cartilage like me then? A fresh start,” Evan smiled, pushing his golden hair behind his ear and showing off the small golden snake stud he had put in.

He turned back to his Potions homework and tuned them out.

_____

Turns out Barty can be very loud when he doesn’t get what he wants and no amount of tuning out or silencing spells could deter him and so that’s how he ended up cradling his ear gently while it pulsed from the aftereffects of Pandora’s quick hand.

“I’m never coming to comfort you again,” he grumbled to a very pleased Barty.

“Oh don’t say that love,” he replied, coming over and slapping a wet kiss to his cheek that he hastily wiped off.

Once he checked and rechecked that his ear wasn’t pouring blood everywhere, he claimed he was off to the Library but continued walking until he was all the way outside and the Lake was in sight. DId his friends even realise that the Library was already closed by now? He thought he'd have to try harder to deceive them but apparently not.

No matter how many times he’d walked this familiar path, he would never get used to the cloak of cold air that blanketed him, threatening to freeze the blood in his veins and crack his bones. 

James was in the same place as always but he was already sitting this time, looking across the vast expanse of Lake, away from the school and Regulus was only able to see his profile.

He wore an uncharacteristically serious expression, his brows furrowed and lips downturned. His shoulders were slumped over his large frame as his arms were draped over his knees and he looked smaller than Regulus had ever seen him.

He almost turned back around, assuming something had changed and he’d be able to get out of tonight's lesson but James turned then, as if sensing Regulus’ eyes, and he immediately straightened, all traces of previous melancholy wiped away in an instant and he looked like an entirely different person.

Regulus wondered how he could do that. Occlumency maybe? He should ask James for some tips.

James waved, as if seeing Regulus here was entirely by chance and he didn’t return it as he just continued his walk up to him.

“You’re quite close to the Lake today,” he said in a way of greeting because it was true.

James was sitting in the same spot he had moved to yesterday, his feet just touching the dark water that eagerly lapped up onto the sandy shore.

“Am I?” he asked, looking around as if not having noticed but he knew James was smarter than that and that this was calculated.

He just rolled his eyes and sat down, feet tucked under him. The water and him teasing eachother as they were just close enough to touch but not quite, both of them holding back the few centimetres that separated them.

His clothed knee just brushed James’ now outstretched leg and he didn’t seem to notice as he lounged back, looking for all the world like he wasn’t sitting by the Black Lake on a cold winter’s night but on a beach somewhere in the Bahamas, drinking one of those muggle drinks with a little pink umbrella in it.

“So what were you thinking about?” he asked curiously.

There was a weird sort of honesty between them he thought.

James was very straight forward, speaking honestly and showing his heart very openly and while Regulus was normally quite guarded, there was something about being out here with James that made him feel like he’d answer anything he asked.

While he told James the truth about why they were in this predicament, he wouldn’t jump to tell him what his favourite colour was or meal was but he would try to offer some degree of honesty out of pure civility.

James just grinned, “I was just thinking about how I can get you in the water.”

Regulus didn’t quite believe that, he could see the subtle ways in which James’ expression didn’t seem quite so genuine but he could tell how hard he was trying to maintain whatever facade it was and so he just dropped it, accepting the lie.

“You’ll have to think harder about that then,” he responded easily, and quite truthfully.

James huffed, “Did I ever tell you how I learned to swim?”

Regulus shook his head.

“My dad grabbed me by the knees, put me over his shoulder, and just threw me in and waited to see what would happen. Evidently, I survived,” he grinned, gesturing to himself.

Regulus gaped, like jaw on the ground gaped. That sounded horrifying but James just smiled about it like it was nothing.

“Obviously back then I wasn’t so happy about it. I was terrified really, thought I was going to die but I heard my dad shouting above me, telling me to just follow the light and so I did. Swallowed about a litre of water on the way but I did it and ever since, I’ve been swimming.”

At his expression, James quickly followed up, “Obviously I won’t do that with you but I’m just saying, sometimes the hardest thing is just getting in.”

“Has McGonagall asked you about the lessons again?” Regulus asked, wondering if the daggers McGonagall sends his way every class period and mealtime they have are reserved only for him.

“Not in words but I can tell she wants to, she’s always giving me looks.”

Of course.

“Wouldn’t want to let her down you know,” James said and he punctuated his words with a small bump of shoulders and when Regulus turned to look at him, he wasn’t looking back, acting like this was normal.

“Have you told them about these lessons,” Regulus rushed out tightly, needing to know.

“Who?”

Stupid.

“Them , your friends.”

He said ‘friends’ but really, he meant Sirius. It was always about Sirius.

“No I haven’t. I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

He hadn’t expected that from James quite honestly and this was another one of those things that just blindsighted him about the boy, making him feel like he really didn’t know anything about him.

“Where do they think you are every night then?”

“Well I tell them that part, I just say I’m going out for a swim. It’s kind of hard to cover when you show up in the dorms in the middle of the night sopping wet,” he laughed a little at the end.

Wait, “You still swim? Like even after I’ve left?” He didn’t know why it shocked him but he just figured James trudged down here and ran away as quickly as he could once Regulus left. He also remembered McGonagall mentioning that he swam in the mornings but ever since they started these lessons, it had been in the evenings.

“Course,” he smiled, hazel eyes bright in the white moonlight, “Didn’t want to completely lose this time, especially with Quidditch practice, it’s a lot to keep up with.”

"I thought you swam in the mornings?" Regulus added, a touch suspiciously.

James raised his eyebrows a touch as though the reason for the change was obvious, "I know most people aren't morning people, I just didn't want you to doubly suffer so I moved some things around."

Regulus might have responded but he wasn’t sure as James suddenly stood up then. He did a quick shake of his limbs, as if reminding his blood to pump through the entirety of his frame, and then leant down to grab his wand from his spot beside him and cast a warming charm on himself. Then, throwing it back down carelessly, he took a couple steps into the water, leaving behind footsteps in the gritty sand and running his hands through his hair.

Regulus could see James’ lean frame through his thin outfit and felt a surge of envy when he thought about how ridiculous he would look in the same clothes, all elbows and knees and as pale as the moon while James was toned and fit, the picture of vitality.

The sound of rippling water filled the area and he just watched as James continued going until his knees disappeared under the water. 

“See, it’s not so bad is it?” James asked as if Regulus was there with him but he hadn’t moved a bit.

His smile was so bright, his eyes glimmering in the night and Regulus didn’t understand how everything was just so easy for the boy.

He didn’t know when his previous hatred for the boy began to slip away but as he watched him, he realised he felt some confusing medley of bittersweet ambivalence. 

He was a good person, objectively, he didn’t think it was possible for anyone to disagree with him on that point. He had easily accepted to take on the mantle of being Regulus’ swimming teacher and never once mocked him or laughed at him and he didn’t know if he could say he would have done the same had their situations been reversed.

And now here he was, on a freezing night in October where nothing would be better than curling up by the fire in his nauseously red and gold common room, standing knee-deep in freezing cold water and gently trying to coax Regulus to join him in an effort to save his life.

“Regulus?” he asked, peering down at him.

He paused, “Why do you call me by my name?”

It’s a rather stupid comment to make amidst the whirling vortex in his mind but it was jarring in a school where everyone is their last name.

“Well there’s two Blacks aren’t there? Calling you ‘Black’ doesn’t sound quite right,” he reasoned easily.

His fingers played on the clear surface of the water, swishing through the water idly and his eyes were drawn to the movement.

Regulus chewed the inside of his cheek because he could feel it. He felt the urge to touch the water, to be able to feel the same ease under water as he did in the air on a broom. If James could do it, why couldn’t he?

Despite the thoughts, he remained rooted to the spot, frozen.

James turned away, looking at the forest for a long moment before turning back to Regulus, a more downcast expression plastered onto his face.

“You know, when I told McGonagall I’d do this, I didn’t think it’d be so difficult,” he complained, his tone despairing, and it took Regulus back a bit.

“I mean when I taught Sirius, he just jumped right in-,”

Regulus swiftly cut him off, standing up and pointing at him, “I don’t care what the fuck Sirius did.”

As he watched his hand tremor, he dropped it, curling it into a fist at his side instead. His brother’s name always managed to tick some part of his brain, forcing him into action, especially when the wound his brother left behind was still raw, sore to the touch. Being compared to him only made it worse, made it hurt more.

“Really? Because it’s pretty clear you’ve been obsessed with him for years until-.”

“Not another word,” Regulus bit.

“What are you going to do about it huh?” James fought back, raising both arms and practically begging Regulus to punch him in the throat.

He didn’t know what came over James, what possessed him to be so cruel and low but Regulus was mad. Mad at him for shattering the illusion of safety here that they had so carefully curated.

“Why don’t-” he began but James cut him off again.

“Sorry I can’t quite hear you from all the way over there,” he called out as if suddenly very far away, cupping his hand over his ear from dramatic effect and everything.

Regulus, suddenly burning with anger at his audacity, kicked his shoes off angrily and stepped right in the water, the cold shock ripping through him and numbing his feet but it did nothing to slow his marching all the way up to James.

He was only a few inches shorter than James and he lifted his chin up just slightly to make eye contact.

He felt the bottoms of his trousers become cold and clingy from the water but he ignored the feeling, instead relishing in the shock on James’ face so close to his own.

Then, Regulus raised his trembling fist, deciding whether to punch him in his eye or on his cheekbone but once he had made the decision and went for the blow, James wrapped a cool hand around his wrist that was just centimetres away from his eye, halting his movements. Maybe he wanted Regulus to go for the cheek instead then?

“Reg,” his shock of expression morphed into a surprised grin and suddenly Regulus’ thoughts flooded back into him, realisation shocking him.

This was the push that he needed to actually get him in the water and from James’ face of victory, he could see now that everything James was saying was just to rile him up, to force him into action when he couldn’t get himself to do it.

He had to admit the words stung regardless of whether or not James believed them because he still saw the truth that lingered between the words but the shock of the situation was too much for him.

The soft sand under him felt too malleable, too pliant, and instantaneously, it felt like quicksand, his feet sinking under it.

His breathing quickened as he aimed to run out of the water, back to solid ground where all was safe and steady but James didn’t relinquish his strong hold on Regulus’ grip. He held firm, not hurting him, but enough to keep him there.

They stayed like that for just a moment longer, Regulus’ heavy breathing against James’ steady breaths, slate grey eyes meeting bright hazel, hearts thrumming wildly. Regulus wondered if James could feel his fluttering heart rate from his wrist and while he thought that his reaction was just because of the water, he couldn’t help but realise how easy it was to forget he was even in the Lake with James so close to him.

“Just breathe with me,” James whispered, inhaling deeply before exhaling, his warm breath brushing against Regulus’ face, the scent of spearmint encircling his senses with the action.

With the tremors wracking his hand, Regulus could feel the callouses on James’ palm brush against the soft skin of his own. His hand was large, enveloping his wrist completely, and he held Regulus with such gentleness that it almost caused Regulus to pull away because he wasn’t used to the feeling, the feeling of being held like he was something worth preserving.

“You did it,” he whispered with a grin, “I didn’t mean any of it, I promise, I just needed to get you in.”

Regulus couldn’t respond, anything he might have said seemed inadequate, but it didn’t seem like James was waiting for anything either.

He didn’t know how long they’d been outside by now, or what time it was, all he knew was that the moon hung low and bright in the sky right above them and that the world had gone silent. It was just the two of them, the moon, and the ripples of the Lake to accompany them.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a branch breaking coming from the direction of the forest that caused Regulus to pull his hand back from James with more force that was probably necessary and turn back to the shore, walking back with such vigor that the sand under his feet was kicking up behind him and slowing his movements to an awkward pace.

“Reg,” James called out.

“Don’t call me that,” he shot back, not even turning to look behind him.

He grabbed his shoes, not bothering to put them back on, and went back into the castle, following his well used route.

He had done it, of course he had and while James’ words practically forced him to follow after him, he felt dumb for even having done it.

He said he wasn’t going to do it, and then he did, which was fine whatever, but it was horrifically embarrassing, the way he stood there, panicking like he was in a life or death situation.

He pushed the rest of it to the back of his mind, boxing it up and away. The look of pleasure in James’ eyes, the small smile that formed on his mouth causing a dimple to peek through, the tenderness of his hands. It was all unfamiliar and jarring and he knew it was just from the stress of the situation, it meant nothing.

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even realise what path he was taking until he ended up in the Hall of Moving Staircases, waiting for one to take mercy on him and turn to his platform so that he could go back to the safe haven that was Pandora’s room.

His trousers dripped water under him and he cast a quick drying charm on them and shoved his feet into his shoes, not wanting to have to explain that part to anyone that might be awake and also sneaking past Prefects at this hour.

Once had made it to the Ravenclaw dorms, he quickly changed into his pyjamas and he was about to climb straight into bed when he saw Pandora’s feet sticking out of the side of the curtains and saw that at some point in the night, she had taken to sleeping horizontally instead of vertically.

He found his eyes drawn to the window and blamed his following actions as hypothermia, specifically freezing of the brain, specifically the decision-making reason for it. He pushed aside the gauzy blue curtains and tapped on the window with his wand to magnify the image.

James was still there, standing knee-deep in the water and facing the castle with an almost forlorn expression on his face. Then he turned and dived under the water, his lean figure disappearing under the inky surface with barely even a splash.

He turned away then, unperturbed this time. He knew James would come back up.

Following suit, he also laid in bed horizontally, the bottom half of his legs hanging out the bed awkwardly. Sleep immediately overtook him, washing away the events of this evening in one fell swoop.

______

He sat through a painstakingly awkward breakfast the next morning.

Flitwick had stood up on the raised podium, Dumbledore absent as per usual, and announced the Halloween Ball that would be taking place at the end of the month.

Once the excited cheers had died down, silence rang out in the hall, girls and boys eyeing each other with hope and suspicion. Exes looking at each other with looks of longing and new couples gazing at each other with hearts in their eyes. The rest of the hopelessly single school body whispering to each other about what to do now.

On top of that, James was staring at him, probably trying to figure out what the hell happened to him last night and so Regulus was forced to stare down at the table or refocus on Barty who was sat angrily across from him.

He and Evan had gotten into some sort of row in the dorms last night and neither of them would say what was wrong, just avoiding each other's gazes and not initiating any conversation.

Barty and Evan fought worse than an old married couple and it was usually best to leave it be, both of them usually forgetting what they were fighting about the following evening and coming back together with a well-timed joke and one-armed hug.

Dorcas was no help as her eyes flitted around the room though her starting and jumping point was always Marlene at the Gryffindor table.

And last but certainly not least, was McGonagall who was eyeing him from the Head Table, likely wanting to ask for a status update but biting her tongue for whatever reason. She didn’t necessarily have a reason to withhold but he thinks he might have preferred her to just be up front over whatever game she was playing now.

Potions were no better the following hour.

While Felix Felicis was still sitting idly in his trunk, waiting to be used, he knew that the Dreamless Sleep potion he was now brewing would be much more useful so he took extra care in brewing this potion to ensure it could actually work should he ever need it.

Sirius was especially rowdy today, sitting on the countertops and knocking things aside, jumping on Remus’ back until he smacked him upside the head, and ruffling Peter’s hair until it almost fell off.

It was when he began throwing things that Regulus felt his temper begin to rise. Well, he considered it throwing but Sirius said it was juggling but he didn’t think it counted if every time you try, the oranges slip out of your hands and on the tables of everyone around you.

He remembered picking said oranges from the greenhouse to give to Slughorn for potions use and was sad to see they would be wasted on Sirius’ antics.

He just grit his teeth and internally cursed at him while grinding some gillyweed until Sirius forced Regulus into the fray.

He did so by chucking one of the oranges right at his head.

The room went from casual chatter and laughter to complete silence as the orange connected with Regulus' skull. He faltered from the shock of the action, tripping over the backs of his feet and almost falling until he caught the edge of the table with his hand.

The pain that radiated from the side of his head was nothing compared to the blinding pain that shot from his ear and he felt warm liquid drip thickly down the side of his face.

“Mr. Black!” Slughorn shouted, hastily putting down today’s copy of the Prophet and bustling over to where he was crouched over, clutching his ear.

That orange was definitely not ripe. And fuck Barty for making him get his ear pierced he added halfheartedly.

He began to clumsily shove his things into his bag with one hand, vision swimming lightly, until a pair of hands came into view and began to gather his things for him.

He knew whose hands those were without even having to look up. They were the same hands that delicately graced his skin just a few hours ago.

“I can do it,” Regulus seethed, gritting his teeth, about to use his other hand but finding his palm to be blood-filled.

James shushed him, just slinging his bag over his other shoulder and following behind Regulus who had stormed out, pushing the door open with more force than was probably necessary.

“This is a classroom not a pl-” he heard Slughorn’s voice, much stronger than usual bellowing behind him.

Slughorn wasn’t scary by any means, certainly not as intimidating as McGonagall or confusing as Dumbledore but when he was angry, he was certainly a force to be reckoned with. Especially because he played favourites and didn’t dole out punishments equally.

He hustled into the Infirmary, ignoring James’ overwhelming presence trailing just a step behind him. James’ steps were in equal time with his own and he sped up just slightly to unsynchronise them.

It was really quite stupid and faster than he would have liked but he was petty and remained true to that, no matter how much it inconvenienced him.

He pushed through the doors that had a small sign that said ‘Back in 5 minutes!’ and dropped down onto a bed. James kicked the door open a second later, both of his hands occupied and just stopped awkwardly in front of him.

“Feel free to leave now,” he grumbled, snatching his bag from James’ outstretched hand.

It was entirely unnecessary for James to help and if anything, it was more of an inconvenience.

Thoughts of what everyone else might be thinking whirled in his head and he wished he had just passed out to ease the roaring in his head. 

James remained standing, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. Regulus wished he either spit it out or just stopped.

 “Can you just sit down, you’re stressing me out,” Regulus bit.

He just didn’t want James to be in his line of sight, it always made his thinking go a bit fuzzy for reasons he’d rather not poke at.

Madam Pomfrey entered and interrupted the torrential river forming in his mind, her bright smile drying it up completely.

“Mr. Black, you’re back,” she greeted but the lilt at the end of her voice showed her concern as she registered the sight of him.

“He-” James spoke and Regulus shot him a look that caused him to stop talking.

His ear was broken, not his mouth.

“I got hit by an orange.”

It sounded so dumb he almost wished James had said it instead of him.

“An orange?” she asked, stepping closer and gently removing his hand.

“Mhm. Round, citrus, orange,” he drawled sarcastically.

James made an odd choking sound next to him and out of his peripheral vision, he saw James raise a hand to stifle a small smile that had formed.

Suddenly, a sulky Sirius walked in and stood across from Regulus and James next to Madam Pomfrey, eyeing both of them. He crossed his arms across his chest and frowned as if studying a particularly confusing arithmancy problem.

“What’s the prognosis?” he drawled.

“I think he’ll live,” James responded easily.

“Wonderful,” Sirius said, his tone making it sound distinctly un-wonderful, and dropped into a chair. Madam Pomfrey hit his arm with the back of her hand, not enough to hurt but enough to cause him to jump up and rub the spot.

She refocused on Regulus then, “Oh dear, is this piercing new?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You got your ear pierced?” James and Sirius asked in tandem.

He didn’t respond but caught the odd look on Sirius’ face.

As Madam Pomfrey worked, James asked Sirius why he was here.

“Sluggy said I had to apologise.”

He didn’t continue and Regulus fought the urge to roll his eyes at not only the lack of apology but the horrendous nickname as well.

“Why are you here anyways?” he asked, suddenly suspicious, and Regulus kept his eyes averted.

He didn’t know why it felt like an accusation. It was entirely James’ choice to come, a stupid one but one nonetheless and Sirius intruding on their unfortunate and unlikely relationship was making an odd feeling curl in his stomach.

“House points obviously, Sluggy gave us fifteen to make up for the fifteen you lost us yesterday,” James replied easily, cracking his fingers. He wasn’t sure whether that was the truth or not. He didn’t remember hearing Slughorn saying that but maybe he missed it…

Suddenly there was a shifting and popping sound and the mediwitch stepped back to admire her work.

“Saved your ear and the piercing, I’ll just wrap it up and have you on your way. And you Mr. Black better apologise or I’ll take away the fifteen again.”

Sirius studied him for a moment longer before mumbling, “Sorry.”

Madam Pomfrey wrapped his ear tightly before ushering them all out, “Back to class.” The sound of the doors shutting punctuating her sentence.

The three of them stood in silence, Sirius and James two points on the triangle formation that had taken, Regulus opposite and between them- the apex.

Regulus turned on his heel, planning to spend the rest of the period in the Great Hall.

“Oh dear, his sense of direction is all messed up, class is this way Reggie,” Sirius called out after him, his tone amused and mocking. He received a wonderful but crude hand gesture in response.

Once he hit the corner, he turned and caught sight of the corridor just out of his peripheral vision and saw James still standing there, facing him. Sirius was already turned away, sauntering down the hall with his unbound hair swishing behind him.

He continued walking, forcing his thrumming heart to calm, wondering if he'd ever get used to the absolute whirlwind that was James.

Chapter Text

The crowd outside was so loud the walls of the locker room were practically shaking from the force at which the students in the stands above them thumped their feet, shouted animatedly, and clapped.

Music began to blare through the stadium in an extravagant fanfare and from the noises coming from above, he knew the Gryffindor team had likely just walked out of their own locker room, mounting their brooms, and taking a presumptuous victory lap.

Soon enough the music ended and with one last stern look at them all, the Slytherin captain raised his broom in a single outstretched hand and led them out of their underground hovel and out into the bright sunlight that bathed them all in watery gold light.

In winter the sun was always weak but today was the first time the sun had managed to at least peak out of the thick billowy clouds that constantly coated the sky so Regulus savoured the little warmth it provided. He’d take what he could get at this point.

The stands were divided as per usual- Gryffindor and half of Hufflepuff were utterly silent as Regulus and his team took off from the ground to do their own flight but all those dressed in shades of blues and greens cheered them on, covering for the other houses well enough on their own.

As the air whipped past Regulus, flowing through his hair and exhilarating him, he thought about how the experience of being in the air was entirely different than being underwater.

While it was just as dangerous, something about flying in the skies came naturally to him. Growing up, Sirius had fallen off his broom so many times that he wouldn’t be surprised if he had a snitch- sized lump attached to his frontal lobe, it probably would’ve helped explain most of his actions growing up but in any case, he had rarely slipped up in such a way.

He realised the odd conundrum he was faced with when he looked down at his feet, hanging below the broom with no security measure, no safety net should he fall from his broom. Going underwater was precisely the same and yet one experience exhilarated him while the other petrified him. 

As he dashed past his peers, he didn’t manage to catch more than the blurred faces of his friends who shouted his name so loudly that he wouldn’t be surprised if they had applied an Amplifying charm to their wands.

Dorcas was right in front of him, her hair braided down and secured tightly at the nape with a leather strap. She sat back lazily on her broom, fixing and tightening her gloves casually with all the confidence in the world. Of course the crowd ate it up and she thanked them with a dazzlingly bright smile. 

He wouldn’t have been surprised if she pulled red roses from her pocket and began throwing them at her doting fans in the audience. 

Once done, they landed one by one, starting with their captain at the head of their group all the way to Regulus who landed last and all the way to the right of the team, alone- the sole Seeker. 

Once he had stabilised, hovering just slightly, he looked up and refocused his eyes and was met with James standing across from him, all wide grins and flashing eyes.

Regulus remembered when he had caught Dorcas watching their practice and really hoped they won or else it would be incredibly embarrassing for them.

James’ head was cocked just slightly to the side, as if Regulus was a particularly interesting specimen, and his eyes seemed to veer off their own, trailing down his figure and back up. It took long enough that Regulus noticed but not enough so that he could try to decipher what he might have meant in that gesture.

His glasses were sitting just slightly askew on his nose and Regulus itched to correct it for the sake of his own sanity. He didn’t know how James didn’t notice or care.

He had grass stains littering his trousers as evidence of an early morning practice and he had to admit he was rather impressed. He’d never been able to go to morning practices, instead only attending the evening ones because if there was one thing worse than chasing after a snitch for hours, it was chasing after a snitch for hours in the morning.

James opened his mouth to say something but the sound of alarms blaring rang out over the stadium and instantly everyone was up in the air, including himself. 

The chasers immediately raced to gain control of the quaffle while the beaters began swinging their bats idly in their hands, waiting for a bludger to come flying to them.

Regulus watched the flurry of activity from just above them, always liking to have a high vantage point for the snitch that could be flying right by him or hovering as close to the ground as a blade of grass.

He had never noticed James’ presence before really, his focus always on the Snitch but he couldn’t help but flit his eyes over to him more than usual today.

James’ was much closer to him than he normally would be and so Regulus aimed to idly fly away, just inching away in a sort of test that James immediately failed because he mimicked his actions, closing the distance between them in a gesture that seemed accidental but was nothing short of deliberate.

The snitch remained out of sight so he looked out at the stands. Evan was wrapped in a stack of scarves and had mismatched gloves covering his fingers but he was leaning over the railings excitedly, Barty next to him, sitting on them precariously and swinging his legs under him. McGonagall will surely yell at him for that soon enough.

Barty’s hand was over Evan’s and he considered whether that was accidental or deliberate. The two were so close that if either of them ever decided to make a move on the other, they probably wouldn’t even notice. 

Pandora stood next to them, green ribbon threading through her golden plaits and she looked so at home that Regulus often wondered what it would have been like if she ended up in their house.

She was just as much a Ravenclaw as a Slytherin but she had mentioned to him once that when the Hat had spoken to her, she had wished to be put in any house except Slytherin.

When asked to explain her reasons, she simply said that she didn’t want to turn out like her brothers, Rodolphus and Rabastan and so the dusty Hat that decided all their futures took mercy on her and placed her in Ravenclaw.

She was the first and only member of that house that Regulus ever associated with and while Regulus never planned on making friends with the girl everyone else considered to be a bit mad, he couldn’t imagine getting through the years without her.

He turned around then and opposite them was the Gryffindor stands who were equally rowdy as the Slytherins. Students from all years showing up to the match with their faces painted, ready to lose their voice cheering on their own team. 

Sirius was in the first row with Remus who had dutifully showed up in the greenhouses this last Saturday just as promised.

They hadn’t spoken much then, just worked in companionable silence, and Regulus realised with a start that Remus offered him a small smile and a wave that Sirius didn’t catch when he noticed his eyes on him.

Regulus just nodded and turned back to the game still roaring below him.

He watched as a bludger flew across the length of the field, aimed right at Marlene who held the quaffle securely in her arms and he felt his breath catch when he registered the girl hadn’t seen it, was so focused on making it to the goal that she would surely crash if she didn’t move in time.

At that instant, Dorcas came zipping towards her, abandoning her assigned spot and she full-on ran into McKinnon, taking them both out of the way of the bludger but also rocking them both on their brooms as well.

Neither of them was at risk of falling but they were both certainly dizzy from the sudden impact.

Dorcas flew away just as quickly as she came and Regulus suppressed a smile as he saw she had taken the Quaffle right out of Marlene’s hands and was currently racing towards their goal. Once the quaffle had been thrown in, the crowds cheered.

“That’s clearly a foul,” Marlene complained out loud to no one in particular.

“I think what you’re looking to say is ‘thank you’” Dorcas quipped cheekily.

She was gone right after and missed the shocked smile that showed up on Marlene’s face, reigniting her fire and causing her to lean down close to her broom and continue the game of cat and mouse they had started last year.

“You Slytherins really like to play dirty don’t you,” came a voice from right beside him and Regulus didn’t know when James had gotten so close.

He was still about two arms lengths away, maybe one if one was using Barty’s arms to count, but he was still in earshot

“I’d classify that as ‘getting things done,” he smiled easily.

James just huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly.

“What are you doing talking to your opponent anyways,” Regulus asked, casting a sideways glance at the boy.

“Well when you spot the Snitch, so will I, so I’m just biding my time is all,” he explained, rubbing his hands together, “I wanted to ask, how’s your ear?”

He had taken the plaster off this morning, cleaned and disinfected the area and already forgotten the bloody orange incident had happened at all.

“Fine,” he replied and then against his better judgement, “Thank you by the way. I know I was a bit…sour but I appreciate it.”

James smiled, turning to him fully, “I always knew you were a bit of a lemon anyways.”

Regulus looked at him indignantly and he straightened up, ready to fight back but suddenly, something flashed right past James’ ear.

It was the Snitch, hovering just as eye level past James, hovering in mid-air and sparkling in the sunlight.

He was off in an instant, barreling past James and towards it and he heard the noise of shock slip past James’ lips as he turned in a wide arc, intending to cut Regulus off on his way there.

Regulus closed in on the still-frozen Snitch and he leaned closer on his broom, urging it to go on faster, as he reached an outstretched hand out but right as he was about to touch it, the Snitch flew away and was replaced with the entity that was James.

Regulus immediately angled downwards while James veered upwards and Regulus shot him a glare at the fact that they had both almost gone down and decided to keep an active form for the rest of the game, not waiting in one place lest James try to distract him again.

____

The game had finally ended when Regulus gave up, back cramping and legs growing tired from gripping the broom.

He was doing a sweep of the bottom of the pitch then, flying just below the fray where Gryffindor was in the lead, when he spotted the Snitch again.

And so in a leap of faith, literally, he made it as close to the ground as possible before jumping up and off his broom, closing his fist around the Snitch and falling to the ground with a harsh thump.

It didn’t hurt much, only the initial impact making his teeth clack together, but he raised his hand, showing proof that he was not only alive but that they had won the game and soon he was being thrown around by his teammates who whooped and congratulated him.

Once the Gryffindor team had landed, they approached to do their usual handshakes and while some outright refused, like Regulus used to do, he found himself shaking James’ hand goodnaturedly, the warmth from his hands sending a shock through Regulus’, the heat entirely unnatural but pleasant.

His friends had joined him at that moment, ripping his attention away from James. Their voices had gotten lost in the wild cacophony of everyone meeting on the pitch now that he just nodded along to whatever they were saying, smiling and pretending he could hear them.

When he went back to the locker room to shower and change, he first sat on a bench to tear off his gloves and guards and sure enough, a folded piece of parchment fell out of his right glove.

You know the drill.

Tuesday, same time and place

J.P. obviously

Well isn’t that rather presumptuous of him.

_____

Before he was due to meet James, he was forced to accompany Barty, Evan, and Pandora to the Library for a ‘top secret meeting’ that they were ‘not to inform Dorcas of under threat of hexing.’

They claimed a small table near the back, far away from Pince’s table, and just as soon as they sat down, Barty stood back up, splaying his hands on the table and taking on a tone of authority.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why I’ve gathered you all here today.”

They all just nodded.

“Well as you know, the Halloween Ball is coming back and I will be arsed if Dorcas goes with Martin again. I hate Martin, she hates Martin, the only person that likes Martin is Martin so obviously we can’t let that happen.”

Barty was quite right about that. Dorcas had gone with him on a whim last year, saying yes because she felt bad for him but he just spent the night looking at her like she was a dessert item at a buffet and talking up other girls.

“I doubt she’d go with him again,” Evan voiced out rightly.

“Well yes but the point is that she needs to go with McKinnon of course,” he said, snapping his fingers for emphasis.

“And how do you propose we make that happen when they’ve been like this for a year now?” Pandora asked.

Barty paused, pulling out his chair and dropping into it, “Well that’s sort of why I called you all here, so we can figure it out obviously.”

“Here I was thinking you just wanted to study for OWLs without Dorcas here to make you feel dumb,” Evan sighed, his head in his hands as he looked out the dark windows wistfully.

“Oh he doesn’t Dorcas for that,” Regulus added and laughed at Barty’s face of admonishment.

“Look who’s suddenly made of jokes,” Barty rolled his eyes, “What was up with Potter today anyways, spent half the game either talking or following you.”

Regulus’ brain whirred into overdrive for a moment because there wasn’t really a rational way to explain the sudden ‘closeness’ he felt with Potter.

While he wouldn’t say they were quite friends by any means, James was certainly more comfortable with him than before and seemed to disregard any notions of what other people might think of them, landing him in situations like this.

“He just felt bad about what happened with my ear, I think the laughing was just a coping mechanism for his guilt,” Regulus rattled off quickly, running his fingers into the quill marks littering the table and the rest of them laughed, easing the tightness in his chest.

“Well they should, I worked hard on that piercing,” Pandora sniffed haughtily.

“Back to the point, McKinnon. What should we do to make her see some sense? Potion? Spell? Because she clearly won’t make the first move,” Barty said in that tone that was serious but very obviously a joke.

Or perhaps not so obviously as Sirius made a beeline towards their table, Peter in tow.

“Now I’m sure there must be something wrong with my hearing because I know you lot aren’t talking about Marlene McKinnon, surely you’re not all that stupid,” he seethed angrily, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

Sirius had a habit of showing up at the worst possible times and shoving his overly large ears and nose into every situation, especially those that didn’t involve him.

“Oh and if I was?” Barty replied haughtily and now Regulus knew they were in for it.

Even though they obviously had nothing malicious planned for McKinnon, Barty was surely ready to play along just for the sake of it, out of pure boredom really.

“Then I’d think you were stupider than everyone already thinks you are,” Sirius ground out, coming in closer.

Peter remained a step behind, turning his head to look over his shoulder repeatedly and just wringing his hands as Sirius took the lead here.

“Sirius, just leave,” Regulus sighed, not in the same mood as Barty.

“Shut it, you’re just as bad as the rest of them,” he snapped.

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Evan bit out, standing up then as well.

While the concern was touching, it was clearly just escalating the situation.

Sirius was never one to back down from a fight and he was loyal to a fault, causing Barty’s words to be perfectly misconstrued in his mind but the argument was devolving, the initial plot being lost and going into something far more personal.

“I don’t think you have a right to tell me how I should speak to my brother,” Sirius called out, eyes darting between the three of them.

“I don’t think you have a right to call him your brother, tosser,” Barty said, raising a pointed finger towards Sirius, “You’ve been nothing but a complete arsehole to him.”

James and Remus rounded the corner then, the smiles on their faces falling once they saw their group, clearly in the midst of an argument.

Peter just looked relieved at the sight of them while Regulus wanted to vomit.

He felt incredibly torn now.

While his feelings for Sirius were complicated, it was easy for them to fight, normal even, but he didn’t feel the same for James or especially Remus, who he could actually say he was building a sort of friendship with.

He just stood between the two of them, hopelessly trying to figure out what they could do and drawing a blank.

“What’s going on here?” James asked as he approached, the book in his hand jostling slightly as he idly thumbed the cover.

“Well I caught them in the midst of plotting, no silencing charms or anything, and I’d quite like to know what they have planned for our friend,” Sirius explained, turning back to them with a mocking smile on his face.

It really was unfortunate how similar Sirius was to Walburga sometimes.

While he would never say it to him, when Sirius turned cold and cruel like this, his face seemed to take after Walburga, knowing exactly how to angle his eyes and set his lips to look just like her.

It was ugly and cold and nothing like how Sirius normally looked and it almost made him too painful to even look at.

James and Remus immediately looked at him, not even considering talking to any of his friends, even Pandora who was just quietly watching the exchange.

Regulus raised a single hand to Barty who was gearing up to talk and instead spoke for him, “We don’t have anything planned, you misunderstood what Barty was saying. Shove off Sirius.”

“And if I don’t?” he teased.

He was certainly in a bad mood today.

“Sirius, if they said nothing happened then nothing happened, let’s just go,” James said quietly, as if they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Sirius turned to him, betrayal written in his features and he looked like he was about to protest but Remus just showed up on his other side and whispered something in his ear, this time entirely too quiet for any of them to hear. Whatever it was must’ve been quite powerful because his brother, who was looking more and more like a stranger every day, deflated instantly, all fight draining out of him and instead pooling on the floor around him.

“It’s getting late anyways,” James said, pointedly, eyes flashing from the night-dark windows to him, a message louder than even the parchment notes that were currently gathering at the bottom of his bag.

He never meant to keep them but they kept appearing in his bag so often that he just left them there now, just wondering how many he’d end up with at the end of this all.

Remus hauled Sirius up out of there and after a few minutes, they departed the Library as well, Pandora going to see Xenophilius and Barty and Evan going back to the Slytherin dorms.

Regulus just sighed as he went outside, greeted the moon, and set off towards the Lake.

____

“Dorcas likes Marlene. We were talking about how to get them together for the Halloween Ball coming up, that’s all.”

Those were the first words Regulus said to James when he arrived that night.

Regulus was first for once and he watched James as he hurried towards the Lake, probably not expecting Regulus to have been so timely. Perhaps he was up in his dorms, working overtime to calm Sirius down before it was safe for him to leave.

He sat down right next to him, not even a hands-length between them now. 

The fact that they were alone allowed them this possibility of closeness, and the idea was not quite so repulsive anymore and instead caused him to twitch, the desire either move even closer or farther apart eating at him, the current distance too teasing to be ignored.

James’ expression was as calm as ever. He wasn’t mad like Regulus had expected him to be but he still felt like he had to offer some sort of explanation for earlier. 

He had a well enough idea of what Sirius had probably told them about him and he had no desire to actually prove him right.

James awed then, realisation overcoming him, “Well that should be easy because Marlene likes her too, obviously.”

Regulus looked at him, taking a moment to study his profile. His curly hair sticking out in opposite directions, the small bump on the bridge of his nose, his sharp canines poking out over his lips as he grinned, looking outwards across the Lake and to the forest where creatures of all sorts lingered, probably watching them at this very moment.

“Yes well, it’s just a matter of who’s going to make the first move and if they do it in time for the ball. At this point I think it’ll end up being McKinnon,” Regulus sighed, sticking his fingers into the sand beneath him, grabbing handfuls before letting it sift through his fingers and fall into piles on either side of him.

“No way, Marlene’s too scared, it’ll be Meadowes for sure,” James refuted.

“Would you like to place a bet then?” Regulus asked.

“I would,” James said, “What’s the winner get?”

He thought about it for a moment before speaking, “They get to ask the other person any question they’d like at any time and the other person has to answer honestly,” Regulus decided, figuring it was best to keep the stakes low.

James considered it, tipping his head from side to side as if weighing it before deciding, stilling and sticking a hand out, “Deal.”

“Careful Potter, you’re making a deal with a snake,” Regulus said, raising his own hand and holding it just a hair's breadth away. 

“And yet I still agree,” he said, grasping Regulus’ hand within his own and shaking once, firmly.

His hand remained clasped in James for one moment too long and he pulled away first, regretting it as soon as he had done it.

“What about you?” James asked, voice quieter than before.

“What do you mean?”

“Who are you taking to the ball?” the other boy asked, running his hand through his hair, messing it up even more than before though it was probably bound to end up like that anyways.

Regulus just blew out a long breath of air. The idea of him going with anyone was laughable, a cosmic joke. He hadn’t even considered the possibility, hadn’t entertained it, and he wasn’t even sure he was going anyways.

It would be better to sulk in the privacy of Pandora’s dorm than in public.

“No one. I’m not even sure if I’m going.”

James nudged his shoulder with his and levelled with an aghast look, “No way, there has to be some girl you have your eye on.”

The laugh that burst out of him made James join in though he was clearly confused about what it was about what he said that made him react in such a way.

“Not quite.”

James hmphed, seeming to go into thought about something as he played with the hem of his now blue trunks.

“What about you then?” Regulus asked, sudden curiosity niggling at him.

“Now that is a very good question I do not have the answer for yet,” James sighed heavily.

Regulus tried to think back to who James could possibly ask and vivid memories of all the public displays of affection he had given to Lily that had gone unreciprocated floated to the forefront of his mind. Surely he would try to go with her, he didn’t seem like a giver-upper.

“I assumed you’d answer with a swift Evans.”

“Even I know my limits,” James answered interestingly. “Now Reggie, let’s get in the water, you’ve done it once, you can do it again.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“It’s a nickname, it works.”

“Reggie sounds like a sneeze gone wrong, plus I hate nicknames,” Regulus answered dryly.

“But Regulus is so long and convoluted, Reggie is so easy.”

“Black is even easier,” he refuted.

“Very true but again, very weird. I know you’re stalling, get up,” he ordered.

Regulus wondered if James remembered what happened the last time he got in, if he had felt the same spark and heat he did when they stood next to each other, so close that he could smell the jasmine on James’ skin and see the flecks of green shining through his eyes.

What did James see when he looked at him?

“And here I was thinking I was so sneaky about it.”

“I think you’ll find that you aren’t nearly as hard to read as you might think you are,” James said in a moment of sober honesty.

As if all the time he’d spent practising Occlumency and working on his tells were for nothing. As though all the nights he’d spent sitting in front of the mirror, schooling his expression into one of cool indifference in the midst of crying was for nothing at all.

His hand trembled against his side and he let out a muttered curse.

It was getting better, but only very slightly. It started out as a nonstop phenomenon and it had certainly calmed since then where he could go hours without the feeling but once it began, it took about an equal amount of hours to get it to stop again.

There was probably a way to stop it but he’d be damned if he ever actually tried to find it.

“Is that still from…before?” he asked cautiously.

He was knee deep in the water now and his eyes were obscured by the moonlight reflecting off the lenses of his glasses and Regulus wished for him to angle his head so that he may let him catch sight of them once more.

“It is.” 

No further explanation was required nor given.

James just jerked his head towards himself, his patience for Regulus surely shortening but now Regulus was faced with an entirely different problem than before. 

“I don’t want to get my trousers wet though.”

James grinned now, “See that’s why I tried to tell you to dress appropriately .”

“Well I don’t know what’s appropriate for…this.”

“Alright, don’t act like you’re too good for some water, stand up.”

Regulus did as told and rolled up the sleeves of his white uniform shirt, hating the feeling of wet cuffs rubbing against his wrists.

James stepped out of the water and went to his school bag that he had apparently brought with him. Regulus hadn’t even noticed.

“I brought you a present,” James said as he crouched and rifled in his bag that was overflowing with parchments and books.

“Oh no,” Regulus mumbled, standing and waiting for whatever monstrosity he pulled out.

It was a pair of neon green swimming shorts, practically identical to the ones James was wearing.

“You’re joking,” Regulus deadpanned, not taking them out of James’ outstretched hand.

“I won’t say what I know we’re both thinking and anyways, it’s literally the only solution. It’s not as though you were going to buy them yourself but at the same time, you can’t go in your uniform now can you,” James reasoned.

If not for the fact that Regulus didn’t want to expose his legs, the sheer colour was enough to make him nauseous.

“Get changed,” he ordered.

Regulus weighed his options and figured he wasn’t scared to say, put his feet in the water, up to the ankles at max, but he didn’t want to risk ruining his normal clothes for the sake of these, still pointless, lessons. It didn’t help that under all the vehement refusal he held about the notion of swimming, he was self-conscious about it, about wearing the garment that revealed more of his figure than usual.

“Here I’ll turn around,” James offered, making a show of putting his hands over his eyes and turning completely around, walking towards the Lake once more.

Regulus froze but knew he had to change, not wanting to be so difficult when the swim trunks would do nothing but make the rest of the night easier.

He internally groaned before kicking off his shoes and shuffling out of his trousers as quickly as possible, checking periodically that James was still not looking. He knew he’d look funny with his uniform top still on but he was certainly not about to give that up.

Once he changed, he grabbed his wand and aimed at himself, casting, before dropping it again with a satisfied smile.

He stepped up to the Lake, kicking the water around lightly with his foot and the noise caught James’ attention.

“What’d you do to them,” he gaped.

“I fixed them,” he answered easily.

“Diva,” James rolled his eyes. “Also, you made it up to your knees last time so I know you can do more than that.”

Regulus inched only slightly more, the water rising to just above his ankles.

Then, James reached out and wrapped both of his hands around Regulus’ wrists, his tan skin contrasting sharply with his pale arms and coaxed him forward, gently pulling him toward him, the cool water climbing up and eagerly licking at his legs, seizing his limbs and halting his movements.

When he made it up to where James was initially standing, his knees now completely submerged, he felt a blanket of warmth envelop him. The air was slightly charged here, the slight hum indicative of James’ magic at work and while Regulus often felt close-proximity warming charms to suffocating, this was more comforting, like a weighted blanket enveloping him. 

“You can do a lot more than you think Reg,” James whispered, slowly pulling him with him, deeper into the water.

Regulus snapped back into himself when the water reached his thighs and he froze, looking up at James with genuine fear in his eyes.

James immediately responded, not moving any further, keeping his eyes and focus on Regulus.

He worked on keeping his breathing in check, using James’ touch to ground him, to remind him that he was still above the water, that he could still breathe.

He looked down, as if expecting the kelpie from his nightmares to come shooting up for him, but he was met with nothing but inky darkness and he started shuffling his feet, kicking out to stave off whatever predators might be underneath-

“Regulus.”

He snapped his head up to James.

“There’s nothing there, just focus on the water, how does it feel? It’s not as cold with the warming charm right? I casted it wandless, I used to not be very good at it but I started…”

James dove into a long story about how he had learned wandless magic and Regulus was only half paying attention to it, the other half focused on the fact that he was in the water, deeper than he ever thought he would be again, and he wondered where the drop off point was.

He remembered his feet giving out from under him the first time he came in and feared where that point was, if James would miscalculate one day and drag them both under.

When Regulus looked at James’ hands, he saw that his fingertips were digging into his wrists, hard enough to hurt, but James hadn’t even mentioned them, only continuing to talk and talk, providing background noise as his mental faculties collapsed and rewired to accept that this was happening.

The longer they stood, the less Regulus thought about the Lake, and the more he came into his senses and the awareness of James so close to him was overwhelming to take in.

He thought about Sirius up in Gryffindor tower right now.

What would he have to say if he saw James right now? Applaud him for taking him on as a charity case? Laugh at him for needing James’ help?

Sirius’ reactions to just about anything involving him worried him and yet, James was treating him with the utmost care and respect, completely unperturbed and instead trusting the blanket of night to protect them from anyone else, rendering them and whatever opinions they might have irrelevant.

“You didn’t listen to a single thing I said did you?” James asked softly, humour lacing his words and Regulus found it easier for the rest of his worries to slip away if he just focused on James, leant into his touch rather than trying to fight it.

“Sorry I-”

“Don’t apologise, you did good today,” he said honestly.

“How do you do it?” Regulus whispered, so quietly that as soon as he spoke them, the words drifted into the air around them, disappearing. “You’re so…patient.”

He hadn’t meant to ask that aloud but now that he had, he was desperate to know.

“You’re worth waiting for,” James answered honestly.

So honestly that it cracked Regulus’ mental walls and caged heart from the sheer force with which the words struck him.

Chapter Text

It was finally Regulus’ turn to receive a letter from his parents, his mother more specifically, Orion likely couldn’t stay sober long enough to hold a quill upright.

Regulus didn’t receive letters often but his heart stopped and stuttered on the few occasions their large eagle owl came soaring into the room. His feathers were midnight black with only a few spots of brown or grey peeking out among the fray. His orange eyes were sharp, always pinning Regulus to spot when he spotted him and soared over to land on the table right in front of him.

Regulus couldn’t help but think Walburga had calculated it so that all of her letters showed up during Breakfast- everything was a public affair for her.

When they first got this owl, Regulus was only five years old and had taken an instant liking to the small beast. He named him Midnight, a rather unoriginal name, but he would often sneak out to his cage and take him off the perch within, instead choosing to set him on his shoulder and run out into the garden with him.

Walburga didn’t like the idea of their newest servant becoming Regulus’ friend and so she forbade him from ever taking him out of his cage, even going so far as to electrocute the bars of his cage so that he did not attempt to escape either.

It didn’t take long before the creature began to see Regulus as the enemy.

He tried to look into the owl’s eyes, wondering if he remembered the late evenings in which Regulus would quietly feed him treats once Walburga fell asleep or when Regulus would tie a piece of scribbled parchment to his leg, run to another part of the house, and see if the owl would still deliver it.

There wasn’t a single sign of recognition and so that was the first time Regulus understood what it was like to lose someone.

In any case, he untied the letter from his leg, ignoring the questioning looks from his friends and apprehensively tearing the green wax seal and unfolding the envelope. He schooled his expression into one of pleasant neutrality.

Walburga always wrote her letters with blood-red ink and with a distinct lack of the graceful calligraphy all purebloods were trained in. Her letters were sharp, stilted, as she dug the quill into the parchment with each word as if to emphasise her words and it caused the ink to run, threading through the thick cloth of the parchment and blur.

It was clear from the first few words that she was furious at him though that wasn’t particularly new.

It appears Mulciber’s father came over, mad at Regulus for having told on his son and gotten him suspended over a bit of fun.

She was just mad at him having soured their ‘business’ relationships and giving them a bad name. She said that she was ashamed of him and that if he ever fought with them again, or more specifically lost to them again, she would be forced to ‘discipline’ him.

Had anyone else read the letter, they would think Walburga to be particularly strict, a bit heavy handed, but not unlike any other parent but Regulus saw the threat clearly masked behind each word, knew that her choice of words were deliberate and meant for only him to understand.

The owl remained on the table and Regulus just stared right back at him.

The owl scratched at the table for one, two more seconds before flying away through the open window once more. Right behind him was Sirius, at his own table, facing him, an intrigued expression about him. He turned away once the owl-barrier disappeared.

He was taken back to his first year at the sight, when the owl first dropped by the morning after the ceremony. Walburga didn’t have anything else to say about him being in Slytherin, only told him to do well in his classes and to not bring shame onto their family like Sirius. There were no niceties, no encouraging words or praise, nothing more than stone cold letters written onto a piece of parchment.

He calmly folded up the parchment and tuned back into the conversation of his friends, nodding along or laughing when necessary. “Nothing, just the usual,” was all he said when they asked what was in the letter and it wasn’t even really a lie.

Once the meal was over, he looked down and noticed the parchment was now torn to shreds in a small pile in front of him. He hadn’t even realised he was doing that and he just vanished the mess before following his friends out of the Hall where they eventually broke up to go to their respective classes.

He spent the rest of the day thinking about the letter, ruminating over it, seeing the wine-red letters dancing across his vision as Binns droned on in the background or when Evan was going into a particularly detailed story about what he found in his shoe that morning.

It wasn’t as though there was anything new in the letter, anything that he hadn’t already expected, but it was just so easy to forget about his family when he was at Hogwarts, secure within the stone walls that when he received letters from home, his little illusion was completely shattered.

It all came to a halt just before dinner

After classes, he spent the rest of the day in the Library, catching up on assignments and making outlines for the OWLs that only he seemed to remember were this year.

It was only when the sharp black nails of Madam Pince rapped on the edge of his table that he looked up and saw that he was the only one left in the Library. She had told him to pack up and go to dinner before walking away, the clicking of her heels muffled by the carpeted floor.

A quick look up at the clock hung in the centre of the room from an invisible string had told him that dinner was already almost over so he hurriedly packed his things and left, only now aware of the rumbling in his stomach after missing Lunch as well.

When he made his way to the Great Hall, he had passed by Dumbledore’s office in which three boys were currently exiting, stepping off the platform and onto the floor right in front of Regulus

It was exactly who he had expected.

Mulciber, Avery, and Snape.

The three of them glared daggers at him but he only continued walking, not even hesitating for a moment’s wait, refusing to allow himself to be caught just like he had on that first day.

The boys followed right behind him, barely a step behind so that he felt the tip of one of their shoes repeatedly step on the back of his, causing his steps to be awkward and uneven.

“You deserved to die,” Avery seethed, right behind his ear, his breath hot and fuming.

“You’ll pay for this Black,” Mulciber spoke in his gravelly voice, the promise of pain clear with each syllable.

He turned and entered into the Great Hall, immediately sitting in between Barty and Dorcas at the table. Mulciber and Avery sat across from him just a few seats down and they stared at him as though he was on the menu for tonight.

Regulus didn’t, couldn’t, participate in conversation because he couldn’t help but feel like they would fulfil their promise of pain soon despite the fact that it was Yaxley’s fault anyone had even found out in the first place. 

He hadn’t taken a single bite of his food, couldn’t stop the roaring in his head as anticipation caused his stomach to turn and he bit the inside of his cheek so hard that the taste of iron coated his mouth and dripped down his throat.

The two boys however, looked positively gleeful as they whispered to each other, downing large portions of food and laughing loudly, their voices echoing across the table.

Regulus didn’t necessarily have a reason to be scared but seeing them again, already knowing what they were capable of and more, had his heart pounding. A residual emotion from their first attack rearing up, sharp and ugly, within him.

“I can’t believe they’re back already,” Dorcas hissed.

“They’re lucky if I don’t suffocate them in their sleep tonight,” Barty responded over Regulus’ shoulder.

He remained quiet despite the storm raging deep in his mind and only spoke when Evan asked why he wasn't eating anything.“I had a big lunch,” he lied easily.

He nodded, not wanting to push, and they stayed there until dinner had come to a close and students filtered out as one large group.

He was forever grateful for Pandora, who had stayed behind as well and immediately swooped in once they stood up.

A glance over his shoulder showed Mulciber and Avery standing up when they did, ready to tail them but a fork in the corridor had them separating, Regulus being led up to Ravenclaw tower while they just made way to the Slytherin dungeons, turning over their shoulders to stare at him with anger and confusion writ onto their faces.

“Thanks,” Regulus whispered, holding onto Pandora’s arm tightly.

“For?” she asked lightly, choosing to look outside the windows that lined the wall around the curved staircase up to their tower.

Regulus was about to open his mouth when suddenly a barrage of images floated into his mind- Pandora sleepily offering her bed up to Regulus when he had shown up that morning, her offering him her last quill when his had unexpectedly broken in class despite them never having spoken before, for feeding their plant in Herbology when it had been known to bite, for helping him whenever he asked.

“Everything,” he whispered into the dim.

_____

James had asked to meet four days after that via a note left in his left trouser pocket and that was precisely when the Slytherins were given the perfect opportunity to confront him as he had only shown up to classes and made himself scarce the rest of the time, taking to reading or painting in the Ravenclaw common room instead.

He didn’t necessarily know why he had even decided to do it in the first place considering his lack of talent for art but he walked in one evening to a group of first years painting idly on some canvas, a wireless humming a twiny song in Spanish between them.

They extended an invitation for him to join and he had said yes, not quite thinking of the consequences.

The consequences being that he was left with a canvas that was painted entirely a pale blue colour.

That’s it.

He hadn’t done anything else to the painting the second time he revisited it and instead decided to paint the corners and sides of the canvas in the same colour before leaving it to the side, saying that he’d come back to it once the paint was dry.

He hadn’t gone back because he didn’t know where he wanted to go with it, as if the canvas would animate itself and laugh at him for being so clueless.

One day, he promised himself.

It was getting rather tiring, this cycle in which he changed his clothes and tucked into bed with Pandora, idly chatting about what their plans for the next day were before bidding each other goodnight, only for him to get up again, change, and meet James outside for another one of their confusing interactions. He had sent up a ‘thank you’ to whoever was listening for Pandora being an extremely deep sleeper.

He had come to the conclusion that he would just have to be a bit more agreeable if he ever wanted this nightmare to end as it was clear neither James nor McGonagall would let him free himself from this torment.

And so he did the unimaginable last weekend when they went to Hogsmeade- he had gone to the shop and bought a swimming top.

Never in his life did he think he’d be doing that but he saw the clothes shop out of the corner of his eye, all the way by the edge of the shopping area, and told his friends he was in dire need of ink pots once they had made it to the Three Broomsticks. He had timed it as such because clearly none of them would ask to join him on the most mundane activity when the promise of warm butterbeer was so close.

He walked in, the chime above the door slightly too loud, and an older gentleman waved at him from behind the till. He strode past rows of flared denim and ruffle tops until he came to the section piled with athletic wear in various colours and he picked the simplest option in his size.

A navy blue top with half sleeves made of a mesh-like material that was smooth under his fingers.

He smiled wryly at the man behind the counter while checking out and immediately pocketed the shirt and left to head to the Stationary shop that was on the complete opposite end of the street to buy said inkpots.

And so tonight, he donned the black shorts James had given him and the navy top before throwing his regular school robes on top, spelling the hem on either side shut. He felt like he was completely naked under them despite the fact that he could feel the soft fabric rub audibly against his skin with each step.

He had never really felt the breeze in these specific areas until then.

His calm was disturbed once Mulciber appeared, alone, stepping out of a secluded alcove, a girl rushing out of it behind him. He had a satisfied smile as he fixed his trousers and Regulus couldn’t help the sour taste in his mouth at the sight.

“Black, just the man I’ve been waiting to see,” he said, clearly still riding high as he smiled and stretched his arms out in a grandiose gesture. His round face was still red and the stubble on his cheek was patchy and unkempt, the smile only highlighting it and causing his skin to wrinkle.

He didn’t respond but grasped his wand tightly in his pocket as he walked.

“Oi, I’m talking to you,” he shouted and Regulus only kept walking faster, putting distance between them.

He wasn’t necessarily scared now as he was during their last encounter. Should it come to blows, he was sure he could defend himself now out of sheer spite but that also meant that they would both end up in the Infirmary and then Dumbledore’s office this time. He couldn’t imagine Walburga’s reaction if he showed up on Grimmauld’s doorstep now, having been suspended for the exact thing she commanded him not to do.

He couldn’t go back to the dorms, Slytherin or Ravenclaw, with Mulciber behind him so he kept going to his destination- James. Hoping, hoping for…something.

He made an immediate turn, deviating from his worn path and cutting across the grass to make it to the Lake. It was convoluted but slightly quicker and so he took it, watching the ground beneath him to ensure he wouldn’t fall on his face on the way out.

Mulciber, who had yet to cast hexes, only verbally taunting Regulus in a low voice lest they get caught, seemed to tire from it and shouted loudly into the night, “Am I going to have to Imperio you just to fight you again?”

The words rang loudly in his ears and annoyed Regulus to no end. The way he spoke about the Unforgivable curse like it was nothing, a mere hex and some part of his brain fired, his voice of reason suddenly quiet against the static that filled his ears, burning at his fingertips.

He spun around then and before he could think better of it, abruptly cast. A rope of electricity, pure blue energy sparking out from the thick body burst out of his wand and hit Mulciber right in the arm, his robes singing at the spot and the smell of flesh filled the air. Regulus could feel the heat of it against his own face and the all-too familiar scent of sulphur wafted up to his nose.

The spell had come out much stronger than he had intended. It wasn’t an Unforgivable but it might as well have been. If he had moved his arm just slightly, it would’ve hit Mulciber in his core and the damage would have been unimaginable.

It was meant to be a rope of sorts, an extension of his arm really to aim at Mulciber, hurting him but not wounding him so seriously. They had learned it in Defense Against the Dark Arts only recently but this was something else.

Mulciber took hold of his shock, fury written across his features as he straightened and a look of madness in his eyes as he raised his wand arm, casting loudly. Regulus only had a moment to react, unable to quite make out what he was even saying and he hastily threw up a shield charm. Whatever he had cast had obliterated his shield charm and the green curse flew right at him and he felt warm liquid drip down his abdomen as a large gash tore at him, pain radiating from it.

While this should have slowed him, stopped him, it only served to further infuriate him.

Mulciber’s angry face morphed into Walburga’s to Sirius’ and suddenly Regulus didn’t know who he was fighting anymore, only that the pleasant feeling that seeped into his bloodstream after casting that initial spell was addicting, and he wanted to chase that high.

Regulus cast the same spell at him that Snape had done unto him, glueing Mulciber’s legs and he took it a step further by silencing him.

“Say, now seems like a good time to practise some spells,” Regulus echoed, voice low in the night and it sounded far away, as if he was watching someone else speak, someone else circle Mulciber like prey, relishing in the wide-eyed look he gave to Regulus.

“You never knew how to leave well enough alone did you?” he asked angrily, voice acrid as it rose against his will. “What if I Imperio’d you ? Drowned you in the lake and left you to die ?”

He was shouting now, the last word spoken with such force, he could see it physically land on Mulciber as he visibly flinched, face scrunching up as he waited for it, for Regulus’ retribution.

It would be so easy, so easy to make him feel how he felt. Make him suffer like he did so that he may never hurt anyone else again, never make them feel small and vulnerable again.

It would have been so easy had James not shown up with a “Regulus?” placing a heavy hand on his shoulder.

“Go away Potter,” he ground out, shaking his hand off and turning to Mulciber. 

“Reg I-” he began.

Mulciber was eyeing the two of them, his large brown eyes darting quickly between the two of them and suddenly Regulus could only interpret it as a threat- he wanted to blind him.

He raised his wand, the spell Bellatrix had taught him last summer dancing on the tip of his tongue, the words aching to be spoken until Mulciber’s face was quickly replaced with James’. His tongue dried up instantly and the words disappeared, leaving behind faint traces of disappointment.

“Reg,” he whispered.

His eyes were wide behind his wire-rimmed glasses, pleading with Regulus, begging him to listen to him. His lips were wet and slightly parted as he held out a single hand, hovering close enough to Regulus’ chest that he could feel the warmth radiating off of him onto him, warming the blood that was still steadily leaking from the wound.

While Mulciber was scared, James wasn’t, despite standing directly in front of his wand, the tip just grazing the front of his top.

It would have been so easy he thought, but the vibrant red that had been clouding his vision cleared and he just whispered, “ Finite Incantatem .”

James heaved a slightly relieved breath, as if he almost hadn’t been expecting Regulus to do that but he sharply inhaled again, turning on the spot towards Mulciber who was spluttering nonsense, rearing up to fight again.

“Get the fuck out of here. If I ever even see you breathing in his direction again, I swear to Merlin I will not hesitate to end you- to cast the spells he didn’t tonight.” James’ voice was as hard and cold as ice whereas Regulus spoke hotly and angrily, with pure fire. It was almost more terrifying to hear him speak in such a manner, to look so serious, when he so often took everything as a jest.

Mulciber just threw one last look at them before stomping back to the castle, clearly seeing that this was not a fight he could win.

Regulus had forgotten James was even there when faced with Mulciber but was entirely shocked when James threatened Mulciber himself, as if he was as angry as Regulus was but surely he wasn’t.

James turned back to him once Mulciber was out of sight and began roving his eyes over Regulus, “Are you okay?” he asked, voice breathless.

Regulus only stood frozen as he tried to reason with himself and came to terms with what he had done. His hand trembled violently against his side but it was nothing compared to the unsteady thrum his heart was doing, beating painfully against his ribs.

James cast a Lumos then, the blue light emitting from his wand cast his features into sharp clarity, making him seem like he was carved from marble and all Regulus wanted to do was reach out and touch him, run his fingers over the arch of cheekbone, to feel the delicate bone beneath soft skin.

James’ sharp inhale caused him to look down at himself, as if his head had become detached from his body and he slowly registered the sharp sting of pain that radiated from his centre.

He absently raised a hand to it and it came away bloody, his fingertips looking like he had dipped them into Walburga’s inkpot.

“Merlin Reg, we have to go to Madam Pomfrey,” James spoke, already grabbing Regulus’ arm but he refused to move, refusing to go to the Infirmary.

“No,” a command.

“Reg we-,” James began, speaking urgently, stress marring his sharp features.

“Potter, no, I’m fine,” he urged, wiping his hands hastily against his robes.

James huffed, torn, before he grabbed Regulus’ arm and dragged him back to the castle. His hand was a loose cuff on his arm as he led Regulus up, not holding him enough to hurt, but enough to force him to move his feet after him.

Regulus protested but one sharp look from James had the fight draining from him. It reminded him so much of Sirius the first time Walburga had taken to punishing him instead of Sirius that he leant into the memory, allowing him to take him.

The words he had spoken with such anger to Mulciber just a few minutes prior began seeping back into the forefront of his mind slowly and horror took over him. The words he had said so cruelly in a tone that was completely alien to him.

It had only proven what he knew deep down, what he had tried to deny so vehemently- he was a Black.

Not in the literal sense but in the fact that he was savage and wicked and would not hesitate to hurt anyone who hurt him to exact revenge. He wondered if the face he so often hated to see on Sirius’, the face that was scarily close to Walburga’s was what he had looked like tonight.

James led him to the restroom on the first floor, kicking the door open before shutting it behind them and locking it.

“What were you thinking,” James muttered to himself, head swivelling back and forth.

He looked around before huffing exasperatedly, setting Regulus down on the floor to lean back against the door of the first stall.

James sat across from him and quickly leant over to Regulus, hands settling on the collar of his robes and they had both snapped out of the dazes they had landed themselves in at that moment.

James’ large eyes flitted up to him in question.

Regulus eyed James’ adam's apple bob as he swallowed before looking back up to James.

James was trying to help but did he even deserve his help? He knew the answer was no, not really, but when he put his hand over James’, meaning to remove it, he only found his hand tightening over James’- keeping it there.

“Can I?” James asked, voice quiet despite the secluded space they were in. Regulus was surprised to see a flush form on his cheek and creep up his jaw, a nervous sort of reaction but his own skin heated at the thought and he was grateful for the lack of light.

Light filtered in through the glass windows at the top of the high-ceilinged room, reflecting off the tiles and mirrors and casting odd shadows around the room, adding to the surreal feeling he felt, like he was still in a dream where reality clashed uncomfortably with his mind. The only noise was their breaths mingling and the distant creaking of pipes as the school settled.

“I don’t-” Regulus broke off.

James’ face was so open, so good, that he wondered if he should lean into the Black side of him- the selfish side of him. If he should relish the feeling of James so close to him for one moment longer, allow him to help him this once, before James inevitably abandoned him because why wouldn’t he? Not after he had just cursed Mulciber so cruelly on school grounds without remorse and especially because he knew deep down that he would have done it again.

That perhaps the electricity that laced the rope wasn’t entirely an accident.

He didn’t know when he had stopped hating the boy but it was so quick that he couldn’t even try to deny it, to reason with himself. He didn’t know where he was now but he knew that in this moment, James’ presence was not an annoyance but a lifeline to grasp to.

Regulus hadn’t realised he agreed until James pulled the hems of the robes apart, breaking past the already-weakened glueing charm Regulus had cast just an hour before.

Once James had done so, he saw the shirt Regulus was wearing underneath, the swimming top, and he looked up at Regulus again with surprise, his lips parting and eyes wide, turning up just slightly at the edges with a sad sort of smile.

“I bought a swimming top,” Regulus whispered sadly, the words coming out pained and weak.

“You-” James didn’t finish, instead biting the corner of his lip and pushing the robes off of his shoulders causing it to pool against Regulus’ hips. Regulus ached to hear what he was going to say before he thought better of it, ached for the return of their usual off-beat repartee.

He concentrated on the torn material, moving it slightly to get a better view of the wound and Regulus hissed when James prodded the frayed skin with a finger.

James, quick thinker he is, pulled off his robes hastily, revealing the usual thin shirt he wore to swim, and duplicated them cheaply, the second pair looking rather worse for wear, thinner and greyer, and Regulus watched in confusion until James grabbed the second pair and began ripping it apart with ease.

He watched in awe at James’ casual strength as the individual threads pulled and snapped until he was left with long uneven strips of material.

He turned back to Regulus, “I have to take your shirt off.”

His brain well and truly short circuited then.

No one had ever seen him topless before and something about James Potter being the first made him feel horrible.

Everything about this was wrong and yet, he was still here when he could have just as easily run away, away from James and up to Pandora who would surely help him without question.

He was about to protest but he shifted and the skin pulled painfully, proving answer enough as James reached for the material sitting across his hips before slowly pulling it upwards, up and over his head, removing it completely.

Regulus turned his head away in shame, not daring to see James' reaction to him, only shutting his eyes and focusing on his breathing.

James cast some sterilisation spells on the wounds, surprisingly adept in medical magic, before casting an Aguamenti on one of the strips of the cloth, raising it to wipe across his abdomen, wiping away the blood that had clung and dried onto his skin. His touch was light, a barely-there pressure of the cloth dragging across his midsection.

When James put the cloth down, the water that ran off onto the tiles below was pink and Regulus was brought back to the sight of Mulciber's arm, to the black skin with blood dripping off it. He must have gone to the infirmary for that.

“Do you-” Regulus spoke, voice sounding overly loud in the room, “Do you think I’m a bad person?” His eyes were still shut while the rest of his senses went into overdrive, the scent of James in the heat of the room, the slick tiles under his fingers and legs, the hitch in James’ breath at the question.

It was a broad question and entirely inappropriate to ask James, someone who barely knew him but perhaps it was better that way. He knew none of his friends would think so but at the same time, would James see this through his lenses? Understand the complexities about why he acted the way he did instead of looking at the just the facts?

Perhaps that was the problem then.

He was already trying to rationalise his actions when he shouldn’t be. He was wrong in this situation, he never should’ve struck Mulciber or taunted him after, and he especially shouldn’t have stooped so low as to use the threat of Imperius against him. He was a bad person and tonight was just a reminder of-

“No I don’t,” James answered, pausing his ministrations for a long moment.

The thoughts that had been rolling in his mind stopped like a vinyl reaching its end, demanding to be flipped over. Regulus’ eyes flew open again and the sight of James was overwhelming.

James looked like he wanted to say more before reaching for the cloth, leaning in close.

“Hold this,” he whispered and Regulus followed his directions, catching sight of his injury in the process.

The cut was angry, clean with only a few jagged lines branching outwards, the skin around it was burnt and angry but clean, clear of any running blood. It was sure to leave behind a scar but when he remembered all the ones he already had littering his body, he found he wasn’t too concerned with adding one more to the litany.

James began encircling his arms around Regulus, the scent of Jasmine wafting up to his nose once more and Regulus inhaled deeply, savouring the scent. James’ hair tickled just under Regulus’ raised chin and it was soft, softer than he had ever thought it would be.

When James had made one full turn and tightened the wrap, Regulus hissed in pain, grasping the nearest thing closest to him and squeezing. It would turn out that the ‘nearest thing closest to him’ was James’ arm, his bicep strong and unforgiving under his hand. He could feel the heat of his skin through the thin material of the shirt and he just gripped harder, the shirt a trying barrier between their skin.

James continued speaking then as he worked, “You stopped. You didn’t want to but you still did. That’s what matters.”

“ You stopped me,” Regulus responded after a moments’ pause. Had James not been there, he wasn’t sure where they would have ended.

“But I didn’t know you would, you could have easily hexed me as well,” James answered. “Even if you had done what you wanted with Mulciber, I don’t think you’re a bad person, not truly.”

James’ honesty struck Regulus sharply and the heightened emotions of the situation made him want to cry angry tears of frustration at everything. He hated himself, he hated Mulciber, and he hated James’ light fingers and caring looks.

James sighed heavily, sitting back on his haunches after having finished wrapping Regulus’ midsection in the dark cloth.

The heavy warmth of the bathroom began to show its effects on James who seemed to always be hot as his hair curled and stuck to the side of his sweat-coated neck.

James reached up to fix a folded edge of cloth but let his hand linger there long after it had been fixed, his index and middle finger burning against the bare skin on his waist, just under his ribs.

James seemed entranced by the skin there, completely and utterly focused on it while Regulus stared back at him, at the hint of tanned skin that was revealed on his hip where his shirt had ridden up.

Their eyes snapped together at once, as if they had realised who and where they were in tandem. James immediately pulled back from Regulus as if burned but Regulus could still feel the phantom weight of his fingers, the tips curling in just slightly.

The other boy turned to the torn shirt and pulled it into his lap, aiming his wand at it and mending the large cut across it and Regulus was entranced by the display of magic.

“For our next lesson,” James whispered, holding it out to Regulus.

“You still want to? Have lessons?” Regulus said astounded, remembering thinking that this would be it for James, that he had crossed some inexplicable line.

“Of course,” he spoke earnestly, then added, “Regulus I don’t know what you think about me but I hope you know that I don’t blame you. Not for this.”

The words had multiple meanings and Regulus didn’t quite know how he wanted to interpret them.

“You don’t blame me for being a Black?” because that’s exactly how he had acted tonight, that all he was truly, just ‘Walburga’s little pet’ as Sirius had called him.

“I hope that one day you begin to start thinking of yourself as Regulus, not just whatever anyone else tries to call you.”

Regulus felt like all the air had been sucked out of him at the words as James just stood up, fixing his clothes and extending a hand to Regulus.

Regulus ignored it and pushed himself up off the ground and when he went to grab his robes, he saw James had already bent down and gathered the material.

“You’re more than what they say you are,” James whispered, handing the robes back to Regulus, his fingers brushing past his, before turning away towards the door, unlocking it and stepping out.

Regulus quietly followed him and when he stood across from James in the corridor, he couldn’t help but marvel at the boy as everything his mother wrote, everything Mulciber said slipped from his mind leaving it blissfully empty. His mind instead choosing to focus on the sparkle in his eye, the column of his throat shining in the low light.

James nodded when Regulus didn’t speak but as he turned, it was now Regulus’ turn to reach out, to finally make the move to grasp James first, to wrap his fingers around James’ wrist.

James looked at it in surprise before flicking his eyes up, “Thank you James,” he said as openly and honestly as he could. His name sounded foreign on his lips, the word he had said so often in his mind now coming out awkward and new on his lips but not entirely wrong.

“Goodnight Reg,” he whispered.

While James went off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, Regulus had gone back outside without thinking, taking his known path once more all the way down to the Lake.

He shucked off his shoes and robes and stepped up to the water and without any more thought beyond James, stepped in, drawing on his confidence and energy and using it to fuel him.

James’ words revitalised him, flipped his entire perspective of the world in a single night and it was that imbalance that had pushed him into the water that night alone, pushing him until he was knee-deep in the water, the cold pulling all the pain from his body and providing him with sweet numbing relief.

There he stood, staring out across the water, his mind silent in the dark night, when he cried.

The tears fell from his eyes and heavy drops, down his cheeks, before gathering at his chin and falling into the Lake around him- an offering. He cried and cried until the cold air cooled the salted tracks on his face and he couldn’t feel his feet anymore.

He watched the sun rise the following day, watched the sky morph from a harsh black to watery grey to light orange as the sun began to peek out over the crest of the mountains, enveloping the world in its light, promising them all one more day.

Each step was calculated as he gathered himself, or whatever was left of him, up and walked up to Ravenclaw tonight.

“What is always coming but never arrives?” The eagle knocker asks Regulus.

“Tomorrow.”

“Welcome to Ravenclaw Tower,” it announced, morphing and swinging open for him.

Everything was much the same when he entered, the portrait of a meadow slowly coming to life on the floor at his feet. Everything was as it should be, everything except him.

Chapter Text

After days of planning and shopping, they had all finally come to agreements about what they would all be wearing for the so-called ball tonight.

Regulus hadn’t even planned on going but was roped into it when his friends had complained that he had missed every event in the Slytherin dorms this year and that he had to go to some social event lest he perish.

Pandora was going as a fairy, which was not entirely shocking, with Xenophilius going as a hunter who was to fall in love with her. Both of their bright blonde hair and delicate features made the costumes perfect for them and Regulus considered that even if they didn’t dress up, they’d still look the part.

Barty and Evan were an entirely other monstrosity. They had taken it upon themselves to buy a two-person horse costume from some catalogue in which Evan was the head and Barty the behind. They looked so ridiculous and made a mess of the Ravenclaw dorms when they walked in, Evan leading the way with Barty trying and failing to go into the opposite direction, sending them both sprawling. It took a long lecture and complaints for them to realise they had to work together if they wanted to even make it to the Great Hall.

Dorcas was going as a queen and so she was wearing a deep purple gown, a velvet lined cloak flowing past her shoulders, and a gold crown set proudly on her head.

Regulus had taken to being a ‘fallen angel’ of sorts.

Pandora had mistakenly bought a pair of black wings when she ordered from the catalogue and since Regulus hadn’t even planned on going, he didn’t have enough time to come up with another costume.

He wore a crisp white shirt, attaching the black feathered wings to his back. The straps that he used to put them on disappeared, magically obscuring themselves and the base of the wings melted into his clothing , making it seem as though they were a part of him.

Dorcas used this as an excuse to set him down on the edge of the tub in the Ravenclaw en suite bathroom and use his face as a canvas for makeup.

She put a thick stripe of eyeliner on his lids, turning them up at the ends and pulling it far past his eyeline. She added black powders along the edges and under his eyes and put a thick black goo substance on his eyelashes, curling and pulling them up.

She put a dark shadow under the crest of his cheekbones and his jaw and once she was done fiddling with his face, Pandora came in to work with his hair, styling and rearranging it, enhancing the curls that were already there.

Barty came in with a handful of jewellery and a wide grin on his face. He fastened silver jewels along his ears and Regulus used his own rings to complete the look.

He finally got a chance to look in the mirror at the end and his jaw immediately dropped. He looked like an entirely different person and was actually rather terrifying. His eyes were bright, liquid mercury amidst the heavy black colour shading his eyes and his facial features were enhanced by the shadow Dorcas applied across his face. He looked gaunt and pale but in a rather striking sort of way, making him look more angelic than human.

His friends surrounded him in the small bathroom, grinning at him, happy at his compliance with all their prodding and watched him hopefully, as if waiting for him to immediately rip it all off and stay in. It was something about the genuine warmth in Dorcas’ eyes, Pandora’s radiance, Barty and Evan’s ridiculousness, that had him sighing and saying, “Alright, let’s go.”

And so they were off.

His midsection was still slightly tight, the skin resisting being pulled taut by any action too fast or abrupt, but overall healed by James’ ministrations that night.

Flashes of James’ deft fingers with the strips of cloth, his bright eyes in the dim room, the tremor in his voice as he spoke to Regulus, came unbidden into Regulus’ mind, distracting him from whatever his task at hand was.

He resolutely avoided James, never daring to look up if he was near or passing by him in class. The last note James sent was a few days after the incident saying that he would wait for Regulus to let him know when he was healed to resume swimming lessons.

He had yet to ‘let him know.’

There was something terrifying about just how compelling James was, how he managed to ensnare Regulus after just a few weeks after their initial arrangement and he couldn't help but think it would only get worse, that the full-body experience that was James would only manage to get more powerful in time.

And Regulus was already feeling the withdrawals of James. He hadn’t realised how accustomed he had become to their nightly sessions with James until he was lying awake in bed next to a slumbering Pandora, forced to stare at the painted ceiling and count sheep until he had run out of sheep and his mind was just empty.

His skin felt cold without the comforting warmth of James’ warming charms or his hands around his wrist, burning him from the inside out.

There was also the case of his sick guilt that coiled within him, making him feel miserable and cold and cruel whenever Mulciber shot him a dirty look or Avery sneered at him. They all stayed far away from Regulus and it only made him feel worse, like perhaps he was something worth being terrified of.

Of course his friends were none the wiser and so it’s not like he had an excuse not to join them tonight anyways.

As they walked through the corridors, passing by jesters, vampires, and historical figures, he just focused on putting one foot in front of the other, already planning to find and set up camp by the drinks table that will hopefully already be spiked. He could tell by the noise that mostly everyone was already in the Great Hall and the event was well underway. 

The Hall was well decorated with pumpkins floating up and around them, sometimes disappearing into the clear night stars that hung high above them. Flashing lights appeared seemingly at random from every direction emanating from small jars and fog coiled around their feet, leaving a haze surrounding their room and obscuring people’s faces unless they were right in front of you.

Music boomed around them, seizing their senses and Regulus could feel his bones vibrating from the force with which it hit him.

There were a few professors dotting the corners of the room who seemed entirely focused on either the snacks or each other, whispering behind their hands and nodding along to whatever they were saying.

Regulus could already hear whispers about the party in the Slytherin common room and knew that everyone being here was just a farce, something to do before the real party begins in the dungeons where everyone was truly promised to let loose.

It was one of the few days during the year that the Slytherin Common Room was open to just about anybody and everybody and house loyalties didn’t necessarily matter, it was up to who was willing to party like a snake for the night where there was no shortage of willing partners, mind-altering substances, and bad decisions.

As Regulus scanned the crowd, he could barely make out anyone in particular with the billowing smoke floating in a haze across the room and with all the masks and makeup and costumes hiding anyone’s true identity.

He spotted Remus after a while, his head popping out above the rest of the crowd. He had two small red devil horns popping out from his golden hair and when he turned, Regulus saw a red collar fastened around the column of his neck. His top was black and while Regulus couldn’t see his trousers, he imagined they were the same.

He got the sense that Remus had been roped into coming to this party just as he had.

He turned and found all of his friends, save for Pandora, had disappeared into the crowd without him, already drawn into the music and lure of other dancing people around them.

Pandora’s cheeks were already turning rosy from the oppressive heat in the room and while she smiled at Regulus, he could tell her blue eyes were searching for someone a bit more specific.

“Go on,” Regulus smiled, tilting his head towards the crowd.

“No, I can’t leave you,” she said, a bit loudly back, as the music picked up.

Regulus put two hands on her shoulders, spun her around, and gave her a light push into the crowd, not wanting to keep Pandora with him for the sake of pity despite how much he might want her to stay. He ambled around the wall of the room, looking for the drinks, and along the way he had been shoved, had done the shoving, and had been jumped on by some Hufflepuff with serious boundary issues.

When he eventually made it to the drinks, which were being served from large bowls, and had various body parts floating in between the cubes of ice, he grimaced but still grabbed a cup and began to dole himself a serving. 

A hand appeared in his line of vision and it was Remus, obvious from the scars, and Regulus could see the grimace on his face as well as he eyed a floating thumb that had ended up in his cup. He quickly dumped it out and tried again.

Remus glanced at him for a moment, passing right over him before turning back with a look of shock on his face, “Oh my god, Regulus, I didn’t even recognize you.”

“What gave it away then?” he asked, a smile playing on his lips.

“The eyes of course,” he laughed and Regulus just rolled said eyes.

Anyone with the misfortune of being a Black had them from Orion to Andromeda to him. 

Unfortunately, with the sheer amount of inbreeding their family line had, it was pretty much impossible to find a true Black without them.

It was just like the streak of white they all seemed to naturally have in their hair. Bellatrix’s is quite prominent, a great slash of white amongst her curly black hair whereas Sirius’ is a bit more understated, easily missed if one wasn’t looking. His was obvious, painfully so, but he had always split his hair in a way that hid it, a form of trying to hide the more obvious aspects of his heritage.

In any case, he imagined that no matter what costume he wore, his eyes would always give it away.

“Now how did two sorry sods like us end up here tonight,” Remus questioned with a raised brow as he sniffed his drink, then gave it a tentative sip.

Regulus mirrored his actions and while the drink wasn’t spiked, it still burned a bit on the way down like acid, “I’m afraid my friends thought I would simply shrivel up and die without some more social interaction.”

Remus just laughed lightly, shaking his head only slightly and it made Regulus a bit indignant, “What is it?”

Remus looked at him then, his golden eyes glinting in the multi-colored lights, “You’re just so much like Sirius, you’re certainly as dramatic as him.”

“Goodbye Lupin,” Regulus said, drawing out the ‘y’ sound with a pointed look, not wanting to continue that line of conversation.

He didn’t make it far before running right into someone, tipping his still-full cup of drink right down their front and onto the floor between them.

“Oh fuck, sorry I-,” Regulus straightened and was met with those ever-familiar eyes. The ones that shifted in the light, that seemed to be glowing with an inner fire whenever they looked at Regulus with increasing intensity, “Potter.”

“Do I still not get an apology?” James asked humorfully, gesturing to his soiled clothes and Regulus’ unfinished apology.

Regulus couldn’t quite figure out what James was dressed up as. His hair and face was much the same, save for a few swipes of some beige material across his cheeks and forehead. He was wearing a simple black pair of muggle denim and a white ribbed shirt without sleeves that clung to his frame and completely showcased his bronze arms. He wore a light blue apron that was stained with the same material as his face. On his feet were a simple pair of red trainers.

In his hand, he carried some sort of ceramic cup.

“I’m a Potter,” he grinned widely.

Regulus couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up and out of him and soon he was doubling over, his hands on his knees as he continued laughing at how absurd his costume was and yet at the same time, how completely predictable.

“I’m glad you like it,” James smiled, laughing with him.

When Regulus straightened back up, his smile slowly fell and his expression took on a more sober one as he gazed at James who had stopped laughing just before him and was now scanning his features. He tapped his fingers idly against his ceramic mug as if trying to figure out what he could mould Regulus into if he tried hard enough.

It was hard to concentrate when memories of that night clashed into the present and he couldn’t help but think that if he reached out to brace James’ arm now, there wouldn’t be a cloth barrier between them, nothing to stop him from feeling his bicep, the muscles that ran under his skin.

At that moment, Regulus could hear familiar shouting and he cut their conversation to see where it was coming from. Of course, Evan was holding the head of the horse in his arm and Barty holding the horse's trouser legs up around him. Evan was gesturing wildly with his free hand and Barty groaned before stomping away. 

“Are they always like that?” James asked and though his tone was serious, he was looking at them with something akin to familiarity or fondness.

“Unfortunately. They’re a unique pair,” Regulus responded.

“They remind me of Sirius and Remus,” James commented before looking down at Regulus again, his expression open and imploring, as if wanting Regulus to confirm something he had unintentionally asked.

Regulus looked away, breaking eye contact because he didn’t know what James knew. He didn’t even know what he knew about either of those pairs. He just remembered what he saw in the greenhouses that day or what he had seen with Barty and Evan just about every other day.

A girl walked over then, Lily Evans, she was instantly familiar with her bright green eyes and fiery red hair. She was dressed as an angel, wearing a pure white dress with white wings and a white circlet magically hovering just above her head.

She came over brightly, stunning them with a dazzling smile and while her smile dimmed just slightly when she noticed Regulus speaking to James, she just focused on James, wrapping her lacquered fingernails around the arm he desperately wanted to touch, “Come, Mary is about to start dancing and once she starts, she won’t stop!”

James visibly floundered a bit, turning from Lily to Regulus but Regulus left before he said anything, making the decision for him. He was only speaking to him out of pity anyway and it was clear from Evans' expression that she knew he’d be going with her, choosing her.

Regulus wandered around for a bit, floating in and out of groups until the mass of people in the room started to lessen as people filtered out of the Hall, all turning left and planning to go straight to the Slytherin for the afterparty.

Regulus spent the rest of the evening wondering what he should do.

His friends were surely going to the afterparty, but could he? After so long spent in the Ravenclaw dorms to avoid the sight of being partially under the lake and the already oppressive nature of the thick stone walls, could he handle it?

It appears that the answer to those questions didn’t matter as Dorcas gripped his hand, leading him and the rest of his friends down to the Slytherin dorms, taking him on a path he hadn’t gone down for weeks It’s been more than a month since he saw his unofficial home at Hogwarts.

With each step among the masses of people, his heart beat quicker, his blood sped through his veins, and the noises of his surroundings slowly died down as static filled his hearing, clouding his thoughts more than any fog or music could do.

And suddenly, they were in front of the stone wall, the door clearly visible with the constant influx of people.

Dorcas put one strong hand against the door and pushed it open and Regulus was greeted with the ever familiar sight of the snake’s den. 

The sconces emitted a deep green light but someone had charmed little jars of flame to float around, mingling oddly with the green and casting dancing shadows around the figures that were currently writhing in the centre of the room. The music was faster and deeper than that in the Great Hall and people danced up and around each other as if it was their last night, their tempo and vigour increasing with every passing moment. On the other hand, every surface was covered in some sort of controlled substance.

Tables that were once used to hold books or chess boards were now used for rolling cigarettes or the new muggle drug that the Hufflepuffs had started growing somewhere, If drugs were not one’s choice of poison, there were plenty of amber coloured bottles dispersed around the room with which one could take a sip, or a few, from.

He knew he wouldn’t be able to get through the night sober and so, he took up a random unlabelled bottle from the table next to him, twisted the top open, and took a big drink from it, gulping down the fiery liquid as if it were water.

Once he finished, he saw his friends looking at him wide eyed and so he just shrugged, trying to remain calm and explained, “It’s a party.”

It appears his explanation was sufficient as they all immediately joined the fray and this time his friends were sure not to leave him, instead taking ahold of his hands and dragging him to the centre of the dance floor. They made sure to stop three more times on the way to take drinks from small shot glasses that floated around the room on magical trays or drinking from a cup that automatically refilled once done.

They only realised it did that after about three servings worth.

He was by no means a dancer but with the alcohol that was now coursing through his veins and the stress of the setting they were in, he found his inhibitions dropping away, melting away along with his rational thought, and lending way to the allure of the music.

This was one of the very rare opportunities he had to drown out the rest of the world, forget each and every once of his responsibilities and problems, those oftentimes being the same thing, and simply let go.

And so that’s what he did among the dancing bodies and pulsating music.

He became lost in the haze of his surroundings, found his limbs loosening and mind clearing as he followed the beat of his friends, moving his hips and arms, wrapping them around unfamiliar people in masks and costumes, relishing in their mutual anonymity.

He was drawn back to the moment in which he was wrapped up in James, when their hands freely touched one another, when their breaths mingled in the quiet of the bathroom, and he cringed. He cringed at how intimate the moment was and how they’d never have it again.

He enjoyed the present though. He wouldn’t have to deal with any repercussions or emotions, he could just feel the heat of another body pressed against his back and lean into it, accept it for what it is, and continue.

The lean male body closed in on him, tall and strong, and Regulus accepted it, pressing farther back into him and winding his arms up around his head and to the male. His fingers ended up threading into his hair that was pin straight and short, not long enough to pull onto but it seems he got the message as he leant down to Regulus’ neck, pressing wet open-mouthed kisses to just under his ear, along his neck.

Regulus shut his eyes then and continued his movements, allowing the rest of the world to fade away and instead hone into this moment. He didn’t care where he was or even who this body was and instead relished the feeling of another body so close to him, the feeling of being desired by someone else, and allowed this bad decision.

The man’s hands landed on Regulus’ waist, his fingertips digging in just slightly and he placed his own hands atop his, panting now in the heat of the room and from the man who was so close he didn’t know where he ended or he began. Regulus felt his thin shirt cling to him as he sweat from their closeness and when Regulus turned just slightly, he saw the man was shirtless, his pale chest slick with the sheen of sweat and glistening with slight muscles.

The blond unnamed man continued kissing him and was muttering nonsensical praise, “You’re so hot” and “Keep going,” and Regulus had to admit it was goading him on, encouraging him to keep grinding up against him even as he felt the physical evidence of his praise.

They continued until the boy, caught up in his excitement, grabbed Regulus a bit too roughly, his hand coming around Regulus’ midsection and pressed on his still healing skin.

He sucked in a gasp of pain as the skin pulled and his eyes flew open.

While he was disoriented at the sudden barrage of visual information, he knew one thing for certain- he was being watched. He felt the gaze on him like a physical weight and when he finally caught the source of those eyes, he felt assaulted by them. They were James’ eyes, staring at him as he leaned against a far wall. He was surrounded by his friends who were all chatting animatedly to each other but James hadn’t spared them a glance, instead choosing to focus on Regulus as he raised an almost empty glass bottle to his lips, held loosely in his grasp and swallowing the last tendrils of liquid that snaked down the bottle and to his open mouth.

Regulus was frozen to the spot and it was only when the man pulled him in again that he was snapped out of it and he stepped out of his grasp. He heard a sound of protest coming from somewhere behind him but he was already moving through the crowd of people, in search of his next distraction.

It came to him in the form of a drink, this time, a purple drink being doled out by Ravenclaws. The drink was dynamic as it moved around seemingly of its own volition in their cups, the liquid glittering in the low light and Regulus immediately swallowed it, relishing in the sickly sweetness of it and he immediately asked for another serving.

He decided to pace himself, now taking slow sips as he took stock of his surroundings once more, registering the new influx of people that had arrived.

He saw his friends doing the usual- Pandora dancing on a table with Xenophilius, Barty and Evan around a table smoking from a communal joint, and Dorcas’ location was apparently unknown, which was also surprisingly common.

He kept his gaze averted from the windows and it was answer enough that he wasn’t quite ready to move back into the dorms.

Despite how much he missed his friends, he had to admit he found a certain sort of comfort in Ravenclaw and given the fact that he hasn’t been kicked out yet, he was in no hurry to leave.

He was on his third glass when James had somehow looped back around the room and made it to him, asking the girls for a drink as well.

If he was buzzed on the dance floor, he was well on the way to being drunk now as he swayed slightly on the spot and his hand-eye coordination had weakened. James had been coming in and out of focus but now, right in front of him, he was clear as crystal. 

“I’m still waiting on that apology y’know,” James whispered, low and in his ear, the hot breath tickling Regulus’ skin.

“I thought we’d have moved past that Potter,” he said in a voice that was much more serious than he felt.

“I have a good memory,” he whispered again and this time when Regulus turned to him, his face was only centimetres away.

He looked different in the odd mess of lights set up in the room. He had only ever seen him up this close for an extended amount of time when they were out by the lake, the ever changing moon providing the only illumination. Even when they had gone back into the castle together, it remained dark with only a weak Lumos between them.

Now with the green and gold light dancing along his skin, he wondered if perhaps James should be the one dressed as an angel as he was being lit by some unearthly force. Regulus studied the light dusting of freckles across his face, the slight bump on the bridge of his nose and he wanted to reach out and run his finger along it, to trace the contours of his face.

He hadn’t realised he had actually done it until James’ eyes widened and crossed slightly to follow the path of his finger.

Regulus clearly wasn’t in his right mind but couldn’t stop himself as he ran his index finger from the point between his eyebrows down to the tip, resting there for a moment before dropping it down back to his sides.

The skin was smooth and supple under his fingertip and while he wanted to do it once more, allowing the allure of alcohol to take charge of his movements, he noticed something over James’ shoulder that was far more fascinating than his bone structure.

He caught sight of a bright blonde head of hair with a crown atop it. It was a familiar crown, golden with purple jewels inlaid across it and he wondered where he knew it from.

He only had to wonder for a second longer because when the individual wearing it turned to the side, he realised it was Marlene and then it clicked that she was wearing Dorcas’ crown.  Dorcas, who was leaning against the side of a low sofa, arms wrapped around Marlene’s neck, kissing her deeply. Marlene leaned into the kiss wholly, resting her hands on either side of Dorcas’ hips, digging into the plush material of the sofa, as if resisting the urge to pull Dorcas closer to her.

“Oh my gods, I win!” Regulus shouted a bit louder than he intended to.

James still hadn’t moved from where he had remained frozen, so close to Regulus’ face that it would only take a minute movement to either take his movements further or end what this was completely.

Regulus didn’t know what he would have done because in his alcohol-induced excitement, he simply grabbed James’ face and turned it to Dorcas and Marlene who were putting on a rather obscene show in public.

“See I win, you owe me five galleons,” Regulus said, lighter this time, his hand still around James’ face, his fingers resting along his jaw and under his chin. Regulus wondered if he had gone too far, had become too uninhibited that James would get mad at him once he raised his hand up to Regulus’ wrist, gripping tightly.

While Regulus prepared for him to throw his hand off, James instead increased the pressure, forced Regulus’ hand in place and curled his fingers around Regulus’ wrist, his fluttering pulse likely dancing widely against James’ smooth fingers.

“Potter,” was all he could say. Was the only word he managed to push past his squeezing lungs and aching core.

They were in the Slytherin common room but they could have been out by the Lake or up on the moon for how Regulus’ entire world focused into this single moment, the feel of Potters’ hands on his and his body so close to his own.

Regulus couldn’t even remember much about the man from before save for the fact that he was a good dancer. He was just a memory in the whirlwind of tonight and he could easily push him from his memory. However, Regulus couldn’t ignore James, couldn’t ignore the way his gooseflesh prickled along his arms causing the hair to stand on end or the way his hair coiled around his hair, poking out in odd directions, as if begging someone to run their hands through his hair, to fix it. He had never taken the time to notice these details on anybody else. 

“You look-” James finally choked out, eyes flitting between his own, taking in his makeup, the wings that still protruded from his back.

“Potter don’t-” he wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, the memory, or the feel of James on his skin that were causing his words to come out slow and confused and while he didn’t even know what he wanted to say, he knew that they were running on borrowed time. They had already been talking for too long, especially in an area as crowded as this one and it was only seconds before someone spotted them.

He tugged his hand free and instead turned back to the girls, demanding another cup of their brew and downed it quickly.

He stepped away from James then and unlike the boy from before, he didn’t hear an audible sound of protest at his retreating figure.

He wasn’t sure whether he was disappointed or not. 

He spent the rest of the night coaxing Pandora from off the table and pretending that he didn’t see Marlene practically climb into Dorcas’ lap on the velvet sofa. Barty and Evan were too far gone, lost in a world of their own as they giggled to each other and spoke in low tones about something that Regulus couldn’t quite decipher.

The people from other houses slowly started to filter out, ready to make the trek to their own dorms and Regulus had to drag Pandora back to Ravenclaw if they wanted to get in any sleep before the sun came up. He left Dorcas to do whatever she wanted, just happy that one of them had finally gotten over their imaginary barrier and spoken to the other one. When he thought about it, he wondered if he actually had won the bet because he really only spotted them first? Was the prize even galleons? His thoughts were a mess of words and images. 

Pandora was tripping over her own feet and Xeno was no help as he just wandered off on his own, distracted by every corner they turned and wall they passed, immediately drawing Pandora into whatever it is he saw and then he had to corral them both to get them back on track, trying hard to ignore the pounding in his head and his own dizziness.

“Aw Reggie, aren’t you such a good friend, dropping your friends off at the Tower,” a voice called from a few paces behind him and he looked up to see Sirius, with James, Remus, and Peter in tow.

“He’s not dropping us off,” Xeno called out authoritatively. 

“He stays with us!” Pandora finished happily, wrapping her arm around Regulus and pulling him in close.

“What do you mean?” Sirius asked, intrigued now, eyes narrowed as he approached.

He had no obvious costume on and he looked how he always did on days when he didn’t wear his uniform, if a bit more exaggerated like the posters he had on his walls at Grimmauld. He was wearing dark Muggle denim trousers, a distressed looking top, and a thick shiny leather jacket. His hair was tied back with a few tendrils of hair escaping the leather band at his nape and his thick leather boots thumped on the floor with each step. He was likely going for some sort of rockstar look.

However simple, it was more of a costume than Regulus had expected out of Sirius who hated Halloween for reasons unbeknownst to him. Regulus thought it might have something to do with how vehemently Walburga hated the holiday, always shutting the lights and refusing them to join the Muggle children that frolicked around outside and ‘trick-or-treated.’

Sirius would spend the night by his bedside window, staring down at the children wistfully.

Regulus only continued walking, guiding his two friends back to bed where he also desperately wanted to go, to collapse on and sleep the following day away.

He had done exactly that, only managing to pull off his wings and shoes before falling into bed, right next to Pandora who still kept her wings and pointed elf ears on. Regulus idly wondered if that was Pandora’s true form, a small fairy who bestowed small blessings upon people, never asking for anything in return.

That was his last thought before shutting his eyes and falling asleep with the memory of James Potter behind his eyelids and on his fingertips.

_____

“Oh gods what happened last night?” Dorcas asked with her head in her hands.

Regulus, who felt equally as sick, just shook his head and focused on his breathing, desperately trying not to empty his stomach contents on the table in the Great Hall though it wouldn’t be all too surprising if it did happen considering just how bad almost all the upper-years looked at every table along the Hall.

What happened last night?

Regulus thought about that into the following evening where he stood in front of his blue painted canvas and was drawn to the colour green, emptying some from the bottle onto the small hand-held palette he had.

He absently thought it was the colour of James’ eyes, behind the rich chocolate brown coating, and dipped into it with his brush, painting broad strokes and allowing his hand to guide him, to make the moves his brain had yet to figure out.

Chapter Text

Regulus was not only physically hungover but mentally hungover from the night of the Halloween Ball. There wasn't a Sober Up potion strong enough to save him now.

He felt like his brain had been taken out of his skull, given a good wash, and shoved back in upside down for how dizzy he felt over what had happened. Or rather, who had happened, as James was not just a footnote in his evening, he was the event, a larger than life character that could not be reduced to just a single interaction.

He was oddly serious that night from how he stared at Regulus through the haze of the fog on the dance floor to when they spoke after that when he held Regulus’ hand to his skin, digging in on the pressure as if Regulus was his lifeline.

It was always as if James was on the cusp of saying something else, doing something else, but held himself back through some invisible force, landing themselves in these ‘in-between’ situations that could either change what they had or leave things as they were. 

Regulus couldn’t quite decipher what it was he even wanted to do but the lingering looks and elongated pauses grated on him. He hated these odd problems that he couldn’t quite solve and he was sure he wouldn’t be able to find the answer to the problem of James in any textbook.

He was torn out of his reverie from last night when, “I have decided to rearrange your seating chart this semester as it seems some of us cannot make responsible choices and adhere to classroom policy,” Slughorn said right as he entered the classroom, slapping some papers on a desk and resting his hands on his vest-covered stomach.

He gave the class a moment's pause as he let his eyes drift and rested on certain students- Sirius, of course, Marlene who focused on chatting rather than brewing and constantly breaking dress code, Avery for never showing up prepared, and the list could go on really.

Regulus usually enjoyed his little corner of solitude but it seemed that today, it was to be ruined.

Slughorn pulled out his wand and cast a wide arc around the room and suddenly little squares atop tabletops began to glow gold, “Please find your correct seat so that we may continue with class.”

The room was filled with the noise of people grumbling and stools scratching against the floor as they packed up and ventured off to find their own seat.

When Regulus looked down at his own seat, he saw the name “Liara,” posted there and wondered what the girl had done to be banished to his seat.

When he looked up, he saw her giving her boyfriend mouth to mouth, or maybe they were kissing. It was hard to tell with how viciously she shoved her lips against his and kissed him, all whilst being seated right in front of Slughorn’s desk. 

That was probably why.

He noticed as students began to cross the room that Slughorn had done a slight bit of house mixing. Some Slytherins greeted their Gryffindor partners with a nod while others sneered but for the most part, they were still segregated. He supposed the professor remained on the cautious side of things knowing that if they had all been paired with members of the other house, it wouldn’t long until people started throwing hexes.

Regulus shifted his bag on his arm as he slowly walked up the middle aisle, eyeing the desks on either side of him. He didn’t have to go far as he found his name glowing on his right hand side, about midway up through the desks. 

He dropped his bag down on the black countertop and he had to do a double take to make sure he had read the name tag on the seat next to him correctly. His heart stopped and stuttered before picking up, galloping like a horse in his too small ribcage when it finally registered.

It was James.

Regulus thought it would have been some sort of cosmic joke from the universe had Slughorn not smiled and given him a thumbs up when he looked up at him.

Regulus still remembered what he said about swimming lessons with James and how he needed to ‘build muscle,’ and thought that was likely why he had put them together. He had the urge to push Slughorn in the Lake but he figured it wouldn’t work considering his built-in buoyancy.

Remus sat down right in front of him and gave Regulus a small smile before settling his things down and talking to Marlene who had dropped down next to him with a wide grin. At least those he had to sit around weren’t so bad. James had materialised seemingly out of thin air next to him, “Would you look at that.” His shirt was untucked and his tie was done up all wrong and Regulus couldn’t help but turn away, the memories from just the previous night floating to the forefront of his mind unbidden. When Regulus looked at James’ fingers that had begun to drum absently against the table, he saw the nails had been painted a dark blue colour and he wondered how he hadn’t noticed last night.

He was beginning to realise that this was one of the few times he was actually seeing James in the daylight rather than using what little light the moon offered as a guide, and it was striking to see the small scar that ran across his thumb or the way his hair was a touch lighter at the ends.

Sirius spoke up them, “Prongs, you-”

“What kind of nickname is Prongs?” Dorcas immediately voiced and Regulus just closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, taking back his earlier thought of his deskmates not being so bad.

A quick look behind him had him seeing Sirius seated directly behind him and Dorcas behind James, neither of them were happy about the rearrangements and were wearing deep scowls despite the fact that they had never even spoken before. Sirius was always a ‘judge first, think second’ sort of person.

“Are you Prongs? No I didn’t think so, it’s rude to eavesdrop,” Sirius quickly retorted haughtily, visibly rolling his eyes before turning back to James.

“You know what I don’t want to be here either so if-” Dorcas said, gripping the edge of the table and already rearing for an argument.

“Today,” Slughorn began, scribbling with a small piece of chalk on the board behind him, “we will be brewing a Scintillation Solution. We covered the lesson last week but if you need a guide, please refer to page 109. I do hope you find your new partners titillating,” he finished with a chuckle before sitting back on his plushy seat and opening up today’s edition of the Prophet with a loud rustling of papers.

Gods, titillating .

Regulus straightened up then and turned to look out of the partially obscured window they had landed themselves next to. It was a relatively clear day though that didn’t mean much. It was a clear day in the sense that he could just barely spot some patches of blue amidst the billowing white clouds.

He stared at the sky a moment longer, the clouds moving shockingly fast until James’ face blocked his view as he sat up straighter and leaned forward, likely mistaking Regulus for looking at him.

“I’ll get the ingredients,” Regulus murmured before getting up and leaving, already having remembered the previous lecture.

Remus trailed after him and they were the first two at the Potions cabinet, everyone else rapidly flipping to the page Slughorn mentioned and trying to figure out what they were even supposed to do.

“Your friends said you had to be more social right? I think you got paired with the most social person at Hogwarts,” Remus smiled, reaching up on the shelfs for whatever they needed, grabbing an extra for Regulus without him even having to ask.

“I’m just trying to remember if I’ve done something to offend Slughorn for putting us together,” Regulus mumbled, pushing aside a jar of eyeballs.

“He’s not so bad.”

“I can’t help but think you’re biassed Lupin,” Regulus shot out.

“I can’t help but think you’re not as mad about it as you make yourself out to be,” Remus replied easily with a raised brow.

“Couple weeks in the greenhouses and you think you know me do you?” Regulus smiled, liking their easy banter.

“Would such a bitter man smile while watering the roses?” Remus asked slyly, biting the inside of his cheek to suppress a smile though his bright eyes and twitchy nose immediately gave him away. 

Remus always seemed like a stoic individual but Regulus could always see a hint of humour dancing across his features as he took joy in the simplest things, excitedly showing up every Saturday and reading Sprout’s list aloud while providing commentary on every task they had to do.

“That’s it, you’re dealing with the mandrakes next week,” Regulus replied, waving his hand in a flourish before walking back to their desk as other people began to filter into the small space, scouring the shelves and rearranging everything just to find a simple ingredient. Regulus didn’t have it in himself to try and direct them where to find what they needed.

Regulus walked back to their desk and dropped everything in the space between them and James jumped up and pushed the contents of his own bag to his side.

He had already grabbed a pestle from the shelf on the far wall and Regulus was happy to note that this one was rather clean, an unusual sight in the Potions classroom and he methodically lined up the ingredients on their desk in order of use and slowly took portions from each bottle and vial, measuring them carefully before adding them to the pestle and slowly beginning to grind.

“Prongs do you have extra glass?” came from behind them.

“Er, do we have extra glass?” James referred to him.

Regulus sighed and pushed aside the small cloth containing a little pile of glass they had left over.

“Cheers.”

Once he was satisfied with the mushy goo currently coating their pestle, he pushed it in front of him to allow the ingredients to settle and then grabbed a clean knife from James’ side and began to chop the fairy wings.

Throughout the whole process he felt the weight of eyes on him but James didn’t speak and so neither did he and Regulus spent the entire time trying to decipher what the silence meant. Was James unhappy about their partnership considering how quiet he was today? Was he at ease? Or perhaps, was it just silence? Regulus may have been told once or twice that he had a tendency to overthink things.

Marlene had taken to sitting sideways on her chair in front of James so she could watch them, “So Black, how’d you end up here anyways?” she asked, chewing on a piece of gum and crossing her legs, her chunky black leather boots squeaking as she kicked one foot out in front of her. 

“It appears I am a Potions prodigy,” Regulus responded without looking up, quoting Slughorn’s words exactly.

“Well I’d take being dumb over being stuck with our lot,” she laughed and turned back to Remus to help him. 

“So is there anything I can do or?” James trailed off, drawing out the ‘r’ sound. He sounded as if he had just woken up, his voice slightly deeper than usual.

“Oh er, you can mix these,” Regulus allowed, pushing over the rest of the ingredients carefully, not used to having a partner.

He didn’t like this new working situation and was beginning to understand how everyone else had the time to talk as they worked. Having two people lessened the work load significantly which may seem good to anyone else but it forced Regulus to remain idle for more time than he’d liked.

Regulus watched James as he worked on mixing the ingredients, the veins in his hand jumped and his knuckles flexed under the skin as he combined the ingredients. He hummed a little tune, just barely audible and Regulus strained to try and figure out what it was.

But Regulus couldn’t help but feel a bit odd, almost too large for his skin, as he sat next to James. James was always loud with his friends, more often laughing than not, and to see him so quiet next to Regulus made him feel surprisingly disappointed. While he knew they weren’t friends, he hadn’t expected James to be so open with his displeasure.

“So did you have fun last night?” Sirius said and Regulus froze at the question, not knowing who he was asking. A look out of his peripheral showed James’ hands slowing as well. Marlene also turned to Remus in what would seem like a casual gesture but he could see the way her eyes darted to the space behind them from under her blonde bangs. Remus hadn't responded, apparently the only one not scared about what Sirius could be insinuating with his question.

It would appear their entire section of the class had frozen at Sirius’ question, holding their breath as if they had each been caught in whatever they had gotten up to that night until,

“Did you?” Dorcas replied, not answering. Regulus wondered if Marlene was so affected because she wanted to hear what Dorcas might have had to say about their kiss but it was clear Dorcas wasn’t about to divulge that information, especially not to Sirius who didn’t necessarily let on what he knew about any of them anyways.

“I have to say, you Slytherins can throw a good party once in a while, but it’s nothing compared to ours, right?” he asked, voice raising at the end.

James smiled and turned around, “I’d have to agree there.”

Regulus slowly added the mixture to the cauldron, adding water and liquid mercury and raising the temperature to allow it to boil. This was a time-intensive potion so the ingredient and prep time was minimal but it had to boil and simmer for a long time so they were basically free until the end of class.

He turned to the side, his knees just brushing against James’ who leaned over Sirius’ table taking over just about all of Dorcas’ space.

It was inconvenient with them like this, Sirius behind Regulus and Dorcas behind James so their conversations were forced to jump over each other, words becoming jumbled and others’ entering into conversations that weren’t meant for their ears. Remus turned around periodically and Regulus couldn't help but feel bad for him as he had been completely separated from Sirius, unable to speak whatever came to mind to him.

He was really starting to think the two were connected at the hip with the way Remus turned or Sirius would say "Moony!" only to say nevermind with a promise that he'd tell him later. There were a few points were Sirius had actually gotten up and walked to Remus to whisper something close to his ear but Dorcas just forced him to sit right back down.

Regulus steadfastly stayed focused on Dorcas, ignoring Sirius who was basically right in front of him now but it seems he had the same idea as he and James jumped into some conversation about Quidditch that Regulus absently registered in one ear.

“How were Barty and Evan after last night?” he asked Dorcas.

“Well they fell asleep on the sofa but thankfully they stopped fighting about the horse costume. Barty demands he be in the front next time,” she laughed.

Of course there’d be a next time.

“Did you not sleep last night or is that just makeup under your eyes?” she asked and Regulus groaned, he really did try to wipe it all off this morning but all the products just seemed glued to his skin.

“Ugh I tried to get it off,” he complained, turning around and opening the cupboards near them to find something to help.

James wordlessly slid a cloth over to him that he Aguamenti’d and began to rub under his eyes, thanking him with a simple nod.

“And how was it corralling Pandora back, anytime I’ve tried she just runs away and I have to hope she made it back on her own,” Dorcas asked and he smiled at her antics.

“It was fine, she wouldn’t take off her costume though so it kept hitting me in the face all night,” he complained.

“You slept in her dorm?” Sirius asked loudly, gobsmacked, completely foregoing whatever conversation he had with James. The people around them quieted and Regulus internally groaned at the lack of tact his brother had.

“I thought that wasn’t allowed?” James asked, voice even lower than it was before.

“It is for him,” Dorcas winked.

While neither Dorcas or Regulus intended it to sound that way, knowing how Sirius and James were taking it, he didn’t necessarily rush to correct her for either of their sakes. They were both looking at him in shock but it was the way James had only seemed to care about their conversation now, back straight and eyes suddenly more alert than they were before, that had him allowing it, letting the words settle between them all.

Regulus turned back around and leaned over to grab the bits of mint that they were to finely dice and when he raised his hand, it was shaking as expected. It was likely the lack of sleep and alcohol that had weakened the power in his hand today.

He grabbed the thin knife, stabilising the herb with one hand and he raised the knife, ready to make the cut when James halted him with a raised hand. He slowly extracted the knife from his hands and slid the chopping block to right in front of him without a word.

“Excuse me?” Regulus asked accusatorily.

“You don’t have to do everything yourself you know," James grumbled, his attitude a complete change from before.

“I had it,” Regulus said in a low voice so as to not be overheard.

“Clearly,” he said with a touch of sarcasm, “I don’t think blood was one of the ingredients,” James quipped.

Regulus eyed him, confused on the odd attitude change but he just let it go, instead choosing to look back out the windows above James’ head. It had significantly darked in the classroom since they started and it was obvious why with the sky completely covered over by dark clouds now carrying the promise of rain.

It appears even the sky moved to James Potter’s whims.

The potion was bubbling vociferously and Regulus slowly lowered the temperature to ensure it wouldn’t explode all over them. The heat from under the cauldron brushing up against his hands in a tantalising gesture.

“Have you healed?” James asked slowly, taking care with each dip of the knife as he worked.

“I have,” Regulus responded evenly, absently tapping his foot on the stone tile.

James just nodded and while Regulus expected something more, he was disappointed with the lack of enthusiasm.

“If you didn’t want to continue-”

“I do,” James said easily, scooping the herb into his palm and dropping it into the pot, causing it to transform from green to lavender.

Regulus just nodded in response.

“Look I know you’re not happy about being paired with me but-” Regulus rushed, needing to take them out of whatever weird limbo they had entered.

“Do you remember what this potion is actually supposed to do then?” James switched topics easily, opening up like a flower blossoming after a long winter and while Regulus was annoyed at being cut off just as he had built the courage to speak the words, he allowed it. 

Regulus just huffed, “It’s in the name.”

“Do I look like I know what Scintillation means?”

“No you don’t actually,” Regulus said and waited a moment for it to sink in before,

“Hey, rude,” James sulked.

“It makes things shiny,” Regulus explained in the simplest words possible.

“Doesn’t that ruin the cauldron?” James asked rather aptly.

“It does, which is why you will use your big swimming arms to scrub it clean,” Regulus teased. He actually hated cleaning the cauldrons after every lesson so maybe having a partner wasn’t so bad.

James just laughed a bit loudly and shook his head, looking down at the table. When he lifted his head again, he had little blots of pink on the highs of his cheeks and Regulus almost wanted to pinch them to ensure his eyes weren’t deceiving him.

The potion remained simmering for the next ten minutes in which James spoke again.

“Do you remember what you said at the party?” James asked lowly.

Regulus strained to even hear what he was saying but didn’t dare move closer, “About?”

“You winning the bet. Turns out Dorcas made the first move so I won,” he said rather smugly and Regulus had to force himself not to spin around in his seat and look at Dorcas who he had yet to talk about that with.

“Ah yes, what’s your question then,” Regulus asked, nervous anticipation flooding him. 

He already knew how incredibly unpredictable James was so it could be ‘What do you like to do for fun?’ all the way to “Tell me about your childhood trauma and how it affects you today?”

“I think I’ll hold onto it for when I have something I really want to know that I know you wouldn’t otherwise answer,” James said finally, grabbing a stirring rod and dipping it into the thin, almost-watery potion.

Regulus just hummed and nodded but turned away to rein in his dread at whatever question that could be. Again, he just had to hope that James would forget about it in time for their lessons to end.

Finally they turned the heat off completely and placed a stasis charm on the cauldron as they waited for everyone to complete and Slughron to come around and do his final assessments. After seven agonising minutes of watching the clouds move past the long and slender window, Slughorn stood with a grin and clapped, “Alright, everybody must pick something they’d like to turn shiny .”

Slughorn started with a desk closest to the front which seated Snape and Mulciber. Mulciber was the first to go and he grabbed the first thing he could find which turned out to be a quill which he quickly dropped in his cauldron before grabbing a pair of prongs to pull it back out. The quill  was now solid and encased in a silvery liquid, as if dipped in true liquid mercury and Snape just remained straight-faced before dropping a spoon in and achieving the same results.

Once Slughorn nodded, he moved on and Regulus saw Snape punch Mulciber in the arm, “That was my quill you dumbarse,” he hissed in his ear.

Regulus couldn’t help a small grin and he felt a little tap on the back of his shoe and saw James smiling, much wider, at the same thing and Regulus just turned back quickly, composing himself.

Slughorn expressed approval or disapproval through small nods of shakes of the head, happily making marks on the little clipboard he rested on his stomach and when he came to them, they scrambled to figure out what exactly they should drop in.

Regulus was first and so he just grabbed the rings on his fingers and dropped all three of them in, desperately hoping he hadn’t ruined the centuries old signet ring he had managed to throw in as well, before grabbing a spoon with little holes on the bottom to grab the rings and let the rest of the liquid drain out.

His rings came out looking brand new, practically sparkling in the light and Regulus heaved an internal breath of relief.

James had chosen his glasses and right before he dropped them in, Regulus snatched them out of his outstretched hand, mumbling his disapproval. He cast a charm on them to protect the bloody lenses before handing them back to James to drop in.

“Mr. Black, excellent observation, 10 points to Slytherin!”

James’ specs came out brand new and he moved on.

“Cheers,” James grinned.

Regulus shook his head for what must have been the millionth time in the class and soon enough, they were dismissed.

When Regulus pulled out his Transfiguration textbook, he opened the cover and found a little parchment folded up there and he struggled to reconcile how the boy that almost ruined his glasses could do this impressive…whatever it was. He still had yet to figure out how James was doing this and he now wished he had won the bet just so he could ask him how he had managed this.

Seeing as you’re brand new again thanks to my impressive Healing skills, let’s resume our lessons

Tonight 10PM, bring your swimming costume

If I’m lucky we’ll get your hair wet yeah?

Thanks again for saving my glasses

JP.

‘ Well today’s note was quite long ’ Regulus thought to himself before folding it back up and placing it in the small inner pocket of his bag along with the rest of James’ notes not sure what he'd do when the space ran out. He hadn't even considered throwing them away and would likely never entertain the idea.

_____

James was late today and Regulus was forced to cast his own warming charm today and the warmth just wasn’t as satisfying as it usually was when James did it.

It was nearing 10:30PM when Regulus stood up and brushed off his robes, preparing to just go back inside and pretend he hadn’t just been completely blown off. He was ready to curse James and all of his bloody Potter ancestors when he saw a small form run out from the castle and towards him a full speed.

The small form slowly turned into a big one until the image cleared and showed James barreling towards him and Regulus had to check and make sure he wasn’t being chased by something based on how fast he was running.

James stopped just a few inches away from Regulus and immediately bent over, bracing his hands on his knees as he gulped down heavy breaths of air. He lifted a single hand and breathlessly said, “Sorry.”

“Why were you running ? Merlin, I was about to start running too,” Regulus shook his head.

“I-” another big breath, “I saw you were getting up, I didn’t want you to go,” James heaved before finally standing up and holding a stitch in his side.

“For someone athletic, you really seem out of it after running just a couple yards,” Regulus spoke without thinking and he wished he hadn’t, already remembering how off James was earlier in the day.

James looked at him, incredulous, “That’s way more than a couple yards, and I was running full speed, look how fast I was.”

“Eh I’m sure I could’ve made it faster than you did,” Regulus replied offhandedly, just wanting to be snarky really, before getting ready to walk down to the Lake.

He made it a few steps before he turned and saw that James wasn’t following him, instead standing with his hands on his hips and assessing him while wearing those bizarre red shorts again that made him stand out like a beacon in the low light. 

“Alright, let’s test it then,” James began and before Regulus could even refuse, James grabbed his wand and cast a small green ball shot out of his wand and landed about a kilometre away, glowing in the distance like a single star in the night sky.

“You can’t be serious,” Regulus exclaimed, swivelling between James and the goal.

James just smiled at him, already having recovered from his marathon , “I have to defend my honour don’t I?”

“Absolutely not, I’m not racing you,” Regulus said with a tone of finality.

“If you’re scared I’ll win you can just say it y’know?” James said and then he had done it.

Regulus looked at James defiantly before tearing his robes off, revealing his swimming costume, and kicking his shoes to the side before standing up right next to James, both of their eyes meeting each others’ alight with childlike excitement though their faces were set with determination.

“When I say go,” James said, voice already jumpy with excitement and anticipation, “1…2…3-”

“Go!” Regulus shouted before taking off, his feet propelling him forward and away from James’ protests. 

“You cheated!” James shouted, a few paces behind him.

“I can’t hear you!” Regulus teased, laughing in between breaths.

He hadn’t felt so free in a long time with the wind whipping past him and his bare feet digging into the soft earth beneath him. While he was a teenager now, memories clouded his vision, him as a small child with Sirius at his heels as they chased eachother in their small garden, the sounds of Muggle London surrounding their little bubble of magic.

It was easy to forget who they were were so far out from the castle like this. On the evenings they snuck out to the lake together, it felt like they were the only people on Earth and they weren’t Potter and Black but just James and Regulus, no baggage weighing their interactions down or putting pressure on them. 

He hadn’t allowed himself to take part in some childlike whimsy in years and while he might look back at this moment with a touch of embarrassment, he couldn’t help but indulge in the moment.

He ran swiftly towards the little ball but James caught up to him quickly, his long legs allowing him an advantage over Regulus. He looked over at James and the mere sight of him had taken his breath away more than any amount of running could.

And then they were on the ball and it was as if it was a snitch for the way the boys grappled for it, knocking knees and hitting elbows before again, Regulus won out, holding it up victoriously in his hand.

“Ha!” Regulus laughed, looking at James once more, taking in his flushed cheeks and the sheen of sweat coating his skin and highlighting the points of his features. He was still catching his breath, his chest moving rhythmically with his athletic shirt sticking to the contours of his torso.

Regulus had to turn away quickly and recover as well, chest constricting with the lack of oxygen and cold air burning through him with each breath.

“I admit defeat to you again Regulus,” James said, bowing slightly in jest. “Though you definitely cheated.”

“I won, there’s no need to talk about the details,” Regulus smirked slightly- he didn’t mind playing into the Slytherin stereotype of being a cheater if it meant that he would win.

“Come, let’s go back to the Lake,” James said, gesturing with his head already. 

Regulus groaned, “I can’t,” he exclaimed before dropping down right where they were, so far away from the Lake and the school in a wide patch of grass.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re not getting your hair wet today?” James asked rhetorically, referring to his earlier note and sitting down next to him, thankfully not fighting him. 

“Because I'm not,” Regulus answered nonetheless, running his fingers through his hair and trying to smooth out the bits that had flown out of place.

They basked in the silence, not needing a warming charm as both of their bodies were hot from the quick exertion and instead relishing in the cool air that enveloped them.

“I needed that,” James said lightly, his eyes closed as his face tilted upwards as he leaned back on his hands. Regulus’ fingers twitched and he wished he had his canvas and paintbrush now, could summon it from the tips of Ravenclaw Tower to capture this rare moment.

“If you wanted to ask Slughorn to change our seats I-” Regulus started but was quickly cut off.

“Is that what you want?” James asked, eyes open and on him now.

Regulus didn’t even have to consider it before he spoke, “No, I just thought you were unhappy.”

James sighed, “Oh- Wait I thought you didn’t want to be next to me so I tried not to…you know.”

Regulus couldn’t figure out what the ‘you know’ was or why James thought Regulus would be unhappy to be next to him. Surely James knew Regulus didn’t necessarily hate him anymore like he used to. 

“Not to what?”

“Be so ‘James’ I suppose,” he whispered, his voice suddenly turning fearful and eyes softer and more vulnerable than Regulus had seen them.

Regulus looked at him now and was able to really see him , not the facade he knew the boy usually put on. Regulus had seen cracks in it before but now it was bleeding into his words and it hurt Regulus, squeezed his heart, because it was so often the attitude he took on himself that it looked wrong to see on James, the boy who was always so confident in himself.

He wondered who had made James feel this way, made him feel as though he was naturally ‘too much’ and Regulus wouldn’t mind sending a hex or two their way in retribution.

“Being ‘not-James’ doesn’t suit you, I thought you were broken today so just…don’t do that again,” Regulus said rather stiffly as if it was an order and James just laughed lightly in response.

“I just wanted you to be comfortable, I know you like Potions,” he explained.

“I do like…” and the words died in his throat.

What did he like?

His world was usually very black and white but it was slowly being turned upside down as black and white bled into grey and things he hadn’t liked, had hated, were now turning into things he liked and the change was so swift he felt dizzy. His fundamental ideas about things and people were changing and the floor was being pulled out beneath him and so he just forced out,

“Potions. Yes, I like Potions.”

The world around him froze once more but Regulus was still off-kilter, his mind not quite restoring to how it was before.

“And Pandora right,” James said, nudging him in the shoulder and raising his eyebrows.

That was a rather swift change of topic, “Well she is my best friend, don’t tell anyone else I said that of course,” Regulus joked.

“Best friend?” James asked, voice picking up.

Regulus looked at him full on, “Well yeah, what do you think?”

“I- I just,” he stuttered, “Well in class you said-.”

“Oh my gods no, Dorcas was just joking. Well I do sleep in her dorm but not like that . Ew Potter,” Regulus said, shoving his shoulder now.

James smiled, widely, his pointed incisors catching his bottom lip in the grin and it was wider and brighter than Regulus had seen him smile in a while. His skin was warm and Regulus couldn't ignore the way James' tone immediately switched once he had cleared up that issue from earlier. While Regulus couldn't confirm it and knew it was fantastical to think anyways, he couldn't help but think that James may have been jealous but Regulus couldn't quite figure out why he would feel that way.

“I thought we had moved past the ‘Potter’ business.”

“Well what would you like me to call you? Prongs is it?”

James gasped and lifted a hand to his chest as if to clutch his pearls, “That is a very sacred name I’ll have you know, with a meaning that goes back to the earliest of Potters.”

Regulus levelled him with a dead look, “Right, and I’m the heir to Slytherin.”

James adjusted his hands and his thumb just brushed against the skin of Regulus’ pinky and he didn’t dare move it away. Regulus couldn’t tell if James had noticed because he merely continued talking as if nothing had happened.

“You could be,” he acknowledged with a dip of his head, his messy hair falling and framing his face with the movement.

Regulus was so focused on the faint pressure that he didn’t respond.

At some point Regulus had fully laid on his back and so had James, their hands just barely touching, James’ pinky atop Regulus’, their bodies still maintaining that ever present distance. It seemed like the closer they got mentally, the further they got physically and vice versa, and ever present tug of war between them that neither of them had agreed to playing.

“I can see you,” James whispered though there wasn’t a soul around to hear or see them and it shocked Regulus and forced him to open his eyes that he hadn’t even realised had fallen shut. 

“What?”

“Right there,” James pointed out, his lean arm pointed upwards to the sky.

“Right here,” Regulus said, voice slurring as his eyelids began to fall shut once more as if they were being weighed down. 

James had cast a warming charm around them at some point and the soft earth beneath him was as comforting as a mattress as Regulus felt himself drift, caught in a state of neither here nor there.

He hadn’t slept well the night before but he wasn’t sure if that was the only reason he felt so comfortable right now.

The heat of James’ finger increased and Regulus wanted to find the source of that heat, investigate why his hand was suddenly enveloped in it but he was too tired to move and soon enough, sleep had claimed him, sweet and light, under the night sky next to the unlikeliest of companions.

Regulus thought he may regret this entire night in the morning, wondered how they had ended up here, why they raced like children instead of strictly sticking to their lessons like they should have but he couldn’t deny the comfort he felt now.

The warmth increased in the night and Regulus absently welcomed it with shut eyes, choosing to reach out now and cling onto the things that brought him comfort in this cold and cruel world.

If that thing just so happened to be James Potter then Regulus would deal with that later, for now it was just him, James, and the stars.

Chapter Text

Consciousness seeped in rather quickly for Regulus as the bright sunlight that filtered in through the windows by Pandora’s bed caused his eyelids to warm and turn bright red. Pandora, who had a tendency to gaze at the stars before falling asleep, unfortunately left the blinds open more often than not but he hated that habit today more than usual. The sun was especially piercing, blazing with an intensity as though the window pane wasn’t between them at all. 

He tried to paw around for his blanket but kept coming up blank and groaned because it was also colder than usual today, the warming charms on the tower probably faltering. He’d have to ask someone about that…who was in charge of those anyways?

While he came up blank for that, he did feel a distinct weight on his midsection and was not pleased that his bedmate had taken to flipping over in the night like she used to despite the long discussion they had about it. That, however, was easily forgotten as his nose twitched against a distinct prickling that no amount of nose twitching like a rabbit helped.

He had already accepted that today was going to be all types of wrong considering just how off his ‘waking up’ routine now seemed to be.

Sighing, he opened his eyes, knowing that his bedside alarm was likely to go off any second now if the sun was already up, and was met with a wide swath of blue. Yet it wasn’t the royal blue colour of Pandora’s gauzy bed curtains but much lighter- the colour of the sky.

The sight was like a shock to his system and he quickly sat up, knocking an unmistakable limb off of him. He supported himself on shaky hands as he registered the lush green trees around him, the lake off to the distance, and the green grass under him soft and wet with dew.

He was nearly too terrified to look at what, who, was next to him. He almost rather wished it was some evil creature from the Forbidden forest because the truth of the matter was much more terrifying than that.

James was sleeping peacefully next to him, looking for all the world like he was up in his bed in the Gryffindor tower. He was lying on his side, one arm under his head and the other still outstretched towards Regulus. His eyelids were firmly shut but his mouth was slightly open through which soft breaths escaped, condensation forming with each exhale showing the temperature. As if to punctuate that point further, the tip of his nose was just slightly pink making him look flushed but no less striking. His clothing clung to him wetly in the spots the sun didn’t quite hit and light gooseflesh littered his skin, each minute detail visible in the bright morning light.

Regulus felt the opposite- he felt like he was on fire as the tips of his ears burned and his back sweat, heating the wetness that had seeped into his top over the night. He scrubbed at his eyes with shaky hands and ran them through his hair trying to force his brain into action, into forming some sort of coherent thought beyond the static that pulsed loudly through his skull.

He was so focused on trying to reorient himself that he couldn’t even think, couldn’t come to terms with the fact that he had technically slept with James Potter last night.

All he remembered after their impromptu race was sitting down on the grass, making idle conversation about professors and other students, occasionally offering anecdotes about their own day and then…nothing. His mind drew a blank- no memories of walking back to the dorm, of changing into his sleeping clothes and firmly putting a close to the day.

He was still in his athletic clothes, leaving last night's chapter wide open and allowing that story into the following day, firmly breaking whatever unspoken rule they had about their nightly trysts.

Everyday he and James would walk past each other, see each other in Potions, make brief eye contact in the Great Hall and no more only to meet each other at their designated spot by the Lake, sometimes bickering and other times laughing about whatever inane joke one of them had made. They never spoke about these lessons outside of their little bubble and they had firmly popped it this morning, under the sunlight rather than the usual moonlight.

His eyes again fell onto James and he had to urge to reach out and brush the tendril of hair that had snaked to land over his eye. He eyed the curved arm that was just a hair's breadth away from his hip now and he wondered when it had come to fall on Regulus in the night, was he aware that he had done it? Would Regulus have allowed it if he was awake?

His train of thought, that was currently very close to derailing and crashing, came to a screeching halt as he looked up at the sun and figured that they were nearing dangerous territory with how long they had been down here.

He leant down to James and harshly whispered, “Potter!”

No response.

He gripped his arm tightly and began to shake it, “James!” he hissed.

He was granted a deep breath and a shifting of his arm over his eyes but nothing further from the boy next to him.

A quick look at the castle showed little figures in different colours, like ants, walking back and forth through courtyards and empty hallways and he figured breakfast may already be coming to a close.

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself before standing back up.

He clearly wasn’t going to be waking up anytime soon and the idea of James waking up to Regulus’ panicked face only centimetres from his own made his cheeks flare up and heart thrum faster.

And technically, he just slept with James Potter…in a roundabout sort of way. He didn’t even understand how they had managed to fall asleep as though they were toddlers who had stayed up past their bedtime and not actual adults capable of handling themselves.

Regulus did what he did best in situations where he was quite stressed and didn’t quite know what the solution was- he ran away.

He scrabbled back to where his shoes lay discarded from the start of his race and put them on, hopping around on the opposite foot and just threw his sodden and ruined robes over his shoulder.

Remembering his manners and not wanting to simply leave James there as a nice snack for whatever lurked in the forest, he threw a quick stringing hex over his shoulder at James who yelped but Regulus was gone before he could even make sense of it all.

____

Regulus cast another disillusionment over himself, remembering the last time he did this and feeling dizzy from the nerves of it all rather than the injuries he sustained last time. He was getting rather good at this charm though it still made him feel a bit creepy doing it like this.

He kept his steps light and was sure to dodge oncoming students all the way up to Ravenclaw tower. When he made it to the door, a first year student was walking out and while he held the door open for his friends who were coming up behind him, Regulus quickly snuck in.

It was all going well until he reached Pandora’s dorm where he felt a bit of stress creeping in.

It was likely some girls were bound to still be in the room and he didn’t want to just walk in and possibly intrude on something after they had treated him so kindly these past few weeks but he also needed to get in quickly if he didn’t want to miss class. He also wanted to wash off the distinct smell of “outside” he had managed to acquire.

He ended up knocking on the door and going for honesty and was met not with Milena, who he was secretly hoping for, but Ronda. A girl from Ireland with bouncy red hair who was rather nice but incredibly too inquisitive and curious for his liking.

“Regulus! I was wondering where you were this morning,” she chirped, opening the door wider for him, “Where’ve you been?”

Regulus aimed to go straight to the bathroom but was cut off when, “Oh! Pandora just went in so you’ll have to wait.”

He threw her a half-hearted smile and a nod and just sat on his trunk, folding his limbs and awkwardly chewing the inside of his lip as she worked on her tie. 

“So?” she pushed, eyeing him as if the answer was written on his forehead. 

It honestly might have been considering his dishevelled appearance, he ran a hand through his hair and it was rather crunchy and he still had indents on his cheeks from the bristly grass. James’ body and heat was like a phantom limb, hanging onto his body and not quite wanting to leave yet.

“I just woke up early, went for a walk round the castle,” he evaded, anxiously picking his nails behind his back. 

“Well I didn’t see you come in after my rounds last night either?” she questioned. “And I-“

Thankfully Pandora opened the creaky door then and stepped out, hair wrapped up in a towel. 

“Oh would you look at that,” Regulus chirped, voice awkwardly high and tense as he side- stepped Pandora’s abrupt questioning looks and entered, abruptly slamming the door shut behind him and locking it. 

He instantly dropped his shoulders and heaved a breath, finally having a moment to himself. He braced his hands on either side of the porcelain sink and looked up at himself in the steam slick mirror wondering how the hell he had ended up here. While the answer wasn’t exactly written on his forehead, he knew the evidence of ‘something’ lingered on him from his wide-eyed expression and shaky demeanour.

He quickly washed himself off, cringing in the heat still lingering from the previous showers, and summoned his clothes from his trunk before stepping out again.

Everyone had left except for Pandora who was sitting on the edge of her bed, staring out of the window with an odd look on her face. He could see her lips moving as she counted along her fingers, an unseen melody or story playing out in her mind and when she turned to look at him, her eyes were lined with silver and her wet hair was curling around her face, making her look completely otherworldly.

“Regulus,” she whispered and her tone was indiscernible. It was as if she hadn’t expected to see him here and while she wasn’t displeased, it held a sort of sharp edge to it, putting Regulus on his toes as he waited for her to say whatever it was that was whirling around her mind.

“I just went out for a walk this morning and I-” he rushed out quickly, wondering if the tone was may be accusatory and she knew more than he would have liked. A quick look at the window showed the gauzy curtains thrown wide open and the thought occurred to him- Were they visible through the window?

“It happened,” she said by way of explanation for her disposition and he couldn’t figure out what that meant as her eyes only filled again and tears slipped down tracks that had already been laid down on her rosy cheeks.

He sat down next to her, grasping her warm hands in his and looked up at her, conveying his question through his eyes, willing himself to understand her- to figure out what she was trying to say. She always knew how others felt or what they needed without words, why couldn’t he do the same?

“I saw my mum,” a watery smile broke through her lips and it was as if the sun had broken past grey clouds, warming the earth with its golden rays. The girl opposite him was simply another type of magic, a force of nature that did not come by often but when they did, the world would stop to watch what miracle she’d grant with a single smile or blink of an eye.

He finally understood what she meant and let the words sink in past his shock.

The women in the Lestrange family had a tendency to die young, oftentimes only living long enough to produce a child before dying through natural causes or otherwise. Perhaps by way of apology from the universe for this curse, they were often Seer’s as well and while Regulus had his doubts about Divination and anything related, Pandora was steadfast in her beliefs, apparently having seen it firsthand.

Pandora told him that once her grandmother died, she showed up in her mother’s dreams, gifting her a prophecy and that was how it happened to every woman in the family, a handing off of the torch of sorts, and when Pandora’s mom died when she was ten, she waited eagerly to see her mum once more and “receive” her gift.

Yet she never came and Pandora agonised over it, wondering if she was even going to get the gift of Sight at all but it seemed her prayers were answered last night when Carme, her mum, came to see her.

No matter how much he cared about Divination, the undiluted joy and fear on Pandora’s face was enough to force him to believe it, to share in this experience with her.

“She finally came, I thought she- I thought she forgot me,” she cried, curling in on herself and covering her face with her hands as her shoulders shook and Regulus immediately wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in to him, the floral scent of her soap flooding his nostrils and reminding him of a summer’s day.

“She’d never forget you, Pans,” he consoled, trying to diminish the long held doubts she had about her mother and her love.

While he didn’t quite know what a mother’s love was, he generally knew what love looked like through his friends, and he knew Pandora’s mum loved her, so much so that she had embedded in her daughter the strength to live her life the way she wanted, not what was expected of her by her family.

They remained wrapped around each other for long minutes, basking in one another’s comfort and while Pandora didn’t realise it, Regulus was holding onto her for equal measure, needing that same sense of security that he desperately tried to offer her.

Thoughts of last night and this morning bubbled up within him, begging to be let out but he remained quiet, unable to open Pandora’s box so to speak.

What was it about James that allowed his inhibitions to crumble so easy as if they had never been there at all? To challenge him to a race, laughing wildly as if they were children all the way to stepping into the lake with fear in his eyes and holding onto James like a lifeline. James was the only person to elicit such a wide range of emotions from him and it was almost addicting how alive he felt in his presence and the notion was utterly terrifying.

No matter how hard he scrubbed at his skin in the shower, peeling off his wet clothes and washing his hair, running his finger through the knotted strands, he could still pinpoint everywhere James Potter had touched him and while it had been mainly confined to his wrist, James was now spreading across his core like wildfire.

Pandora’s cries ceased, pulling him out of his reverie and she pulled back to look at him, “What is it?” she asked, reaching a small hand up in between his brows and rubbing the creases smooth.

“Nothing,” he promised, a toothpick supporting the weight of a house, and quickly added “Let’s skip classes today.”

“You read my mind,” she smiled easily, pulling a pack of Sugar Quills from under her pillow and offering him one.

He chewed it and willed his sour thoughts away.

“Do you want to know what my prophecy was?” she asked apprehensively.

“I’d love to know if you’re willing to share,” he said, pulling the bed covers up and around them.

“I saw me and Xeno, in a little house on a wide field somewhere…I was knitting something and he was by a printing press, well you know how he always talked about starting a paper? I think he did it,” she started smiling, eyebrows loosening and her limbs relaxing, “And Reg…I heard a baby’s laughter.”

Pandora was young but he knew what she wanted, what she craved- a life away from her family, a dream their entire friend group shared and if that was what she saw, who was Regulus to deny the validity of it.

He just squeezed her hand tighter and listened to her describe everything she remembered of her mum in excruciating detail with such childlike splendour.

______

He was however, unable to continue ignoring the world the following day as he had to actually go to his classes and come face to face with the problem at the top of his list- James.

He walked in just before the bell rang and quietly sat at his desk, not looking anywhere except up at the front where Slughorn was already diving into an incredibly exciting lecture about unicorn saliva and how it has medicinal uses in Potions.

He copied down just about every word their professor said and he didn’t know whether it was because he actually cared or if he wanted something to focus on besides the eyes that were boring into the right side of his head. It was also because Lupin had apparently decided he didn’t want to take notes today and Regulus couldn’t see the main points on the blackboard with his giraffe neck in the way.

It was going well until a small piece of parchment came into his line of sight, poking against his hand and he saw, Where were you yesterday? Scrawled atop it in horrendous handwriting.

He looked at it, considering, before pushing it away back towards James, and going back to his work.

The other boy was relentless as he pushed it back again with an additional ?, his other parchment labelled “Notes” still empty on the other side of him.

Busy. was his only answer.

My arm still hurts.

Regulus looked at it quizzically, darting his eyes up to James for the briefest of moments to make sure he knew that he wasn’t catching his meaning so James clarified,

The stinging hex- not a nice way to wake up, thank you very much.

Regulus could feel the heat rising to his face at the reminder of that. He was a bit of an arsehole for that really.

Sorry, you weren’t waking up

You could’ve tried something besides violence

Like?

James stared at that for quite some time and right when it seemed that he had come up with some sort of response, Slughorn came around with an assignment that they were to work on with their partner.

“Regulus Arcturus Black,” he heard sharply from behind him and he slowly turned to Dorcas who was giving him a look cold enough to cut ice.

“Yes, Dorcas Odette Meadowes,” he replied, giving her a funny look at the use of his middle name and now hers.

She gasped, “Shut up.”

“You literally started it,” he deadpanned.

Sirius snickered at the mention of his middle name and hadn’t yet stopped. His assignment was still set between them and he had made no move to touch it, his textbook still firmly shut as he focused in on their conversation and Regulus just had to snipe at him and his audaciousness.

“Are you very much done Orion?”

Sirius abruptly stopped laughing, “Don’t you dare bring that up.”

Dorcas, eyes widening with the realisation, “Oh my gods, your name is Sirius Orion Black? As in "son of a bitch?” She immediately began cackling with laughter.

Next to him, James had begun laughing as well, much more discreet than Dorcas though, likely wanting to avoid Sirius’ wrath.

“Oi don’t think I don’t see you there Fleamont,” Sirius spoke up, pointing sharply at James who reacted similarly to Sirius, shocked and frozen as though his middle name were a curse.

“Fleamont is a very respectable name,” James defended harshly.

“James babe, you’re embarrassing yourself,” Marlene spoke from in front of them, not even turning around to address them, “Sirius, please don’t start. Meadowes, your middle name is quite nice actually,” - a judge doling out their expert rulings.

Dorcas looked immensely pleased at that, sitting back in her seat smugly though her cheeks were a bit pink at the apples and Regulus knew her happiness wasn’t just faux confidence.

“What’s yours then since you’re the judge here?” Sirius asked over their table, their parchment accidently falling on the floor with the movement and neither he nor Dorcas even moved to pick it up, now completely engrossed in this completely irrelevant topic.

“I don’t have one,” she answered coolly.

Remus then turned around on their other side, speaking directly to Regulus and Sirius who sat in a perfect row, and whispered, “Phyllis.”

Even Regulus couldn’t help the snort he let out at that as everyone else around them howled with laughter.

“Shut it John,” she grumbled even though she knew it didn’t quite work as his middle wasn’t quite as obscene.

The conversation quieted, everyone thoroughly embarrassed, and Regulus then looked down at the parchment in front of him and started to fill out the answers to each question, flipping through his textbook for certain answers or references. He never even got to why Dorcas had called his name so seriously in the first place.

James was drumming his fingers on the table next to him, and Regulus’ attention kept jumping between the paper in front of him and James’ movements that he apparently couldn’t help but do. He tried to stick it out, he really did, but he reached his breaking point as whatever song that had gotten stuck in James’ head sped up.

He calmly set his quill down and rested his hand on James’, applying pressure and flattening his hand against the table, “Shh,” was all he said.

They spent the rest of the lesson in weighted silence.

James hadn’t actually mentioned their tumultuous morning two days ago beyond a complaint about the hex and Regulus wondered what he thought about it.

Wondering was putting it lightly.

He didn’t know whether James not mentioning it was a good or bad thing and never received an answer to that. James was awfully easy to read sometimes and other times, Regulus couldn’t tell what was going on in his head.

_____

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“No,” Actually yes I have been James, you’re a clever one aren’t you, it only took you about a week to realise. Have you considered being an Auror? You’d be great.

“Why don’t I believe that?” he mused from his spot on the ground as per usual by the lake, his feet already submerged under the dark water.

“That seems more like a question you should ask yourself,” Regulus replied, settling down next to him in the same spot as usual, him on James’ right with just about an inch between them, his hand on his knee and James’ on the ground behind him. It was practically routine at this point, his body moving simply by memory.

James turned to look at him then but remained silent and Regulus allowed it for a moment, used to James’ lingering looks that were usually accompanied by a comment but today, one didn’t come.

Regulus gave in and swung his head to the side, looking at James from this new askew angle, “What is it?”

“I just like your jumper, where’s it from?” He asked, studying it with narrowed eyes.

Regulus looked down in question, as if he forgot what he was wearing.

It was a plain black jumper with a simple emblem on the breast- a small lightning bolt and on the back it had the same design except it was much larger and had other accompanying patchwork designs. It was rather comfortable but it wasn’t his.

No, it was Sirius’.

He spent a lot of time in Sirius’ room in the days following his escape from Grimmauld, sometimes crying, other times cursing his brother, and once he tired himself out, just sitting there numbly, memories in the room clouding his vision.

Before Walburga got a chance to board his room up, Regulus snatched a few items from his closet, this jumper being one of them. If he tried hard enough, he could still remember the scent of pine and cigarette smoke that remained around the collar. Wearing the jumper felt like a hug and it was that needed reassurance that had him throwing it on before coming outside tonight.

“It was a gift,” he answered.

“Hmm, it’s nice,” he decided before standing up, “Now take it off, we have work to do tonight.”

Regulus did as commanded and the way James’ voice was quivering with excitement set him on edge, worrying just how antsy James was getting about their progress in regards to swimming. Regulus barely made it up to his waist in the past, he wasn’t sure what limits James was willing to overstep.

“C’mon Reg, you’ve done this already,” James said, already taking large steps into the lake and stopping only when the waves were lapping against his broad chest.

Regulus was so torn because no matter how hard he tried to fight it, these lessons would continue but he didn’t want to get in. He was sure if he really tried to fight it he could but was he willing to give up these lessons forever? The idea caused his stomach to flip and his nerves to quiver as if struck.

Regulus took much smaller steps than James, inching closer to the water and allowing it to wrap around him, licking at his exposed skin and chilling his core. He didn’t understand how James could handle it, bearing the weight of the freezing water as though it was nothing. He was about a yard away from James before he stopped, his toes digging into the thick sand and halting his movements. The water was up to his hips and crashed against him softly, as if trying to pull him in further.

James watched him intently, simply tracking his movements, not wanting to put pressure on Regulus but he must not have been aware that Regulus felt the weight of the world on his shoulders and this task of moving further into the water only added to it and he felt like crumbling.

“Stop it,” James spoke through the haze, “I can literally see the gears turning in your head, just shh,” he said, copying Regulus’ words from earlier.

After a few stilted moments, James inched closer to him and took initiative, taking hold of Regulus’ hands and dragging him in deeper to the water, back to the post James had originally taken up and the water level was just slightly higher to Regulus who cursed their height difference.

“I’m almost sad y’know,” James whispered.

“Why’s that?” Regulus asked only half paying attention to him.

“You’re doing so well, I’m not sure what I’ll do when our lessons are over,” James said, steadfastly avoiding Regulus’ eyes and instead focusing on their clasped hands. 

Regulus barely registered the touch. The first time James had touched him, Regulus felt fire erupt at the spot and turn outwards, encasing him but now his touch was warm and welcome, his skin relishing in it easily and becoming accustomed to it as though it was naturally a part of him.

“Didn’t know you were so sentimental,” Regulus spoke, stopping once the water was up to his armpits, their hands still connected under the water now. Their fingers slipped slightly but James only tightened the hold, keeping them interlocked.

“I didn’t know I was either,” he said a bit wonderfully as though he meant to only think it but it slipped past his lips anyways.

They stood like that, staring at each other, waiting for the other to do something.

James took on the responsibility untangling their hands, reaching up to his glasses, and chucking them past Regulus’ head towards the shore. Regulus whipped around and saw them land just on the shore, nestled in a bed of sand.

“Potter,” he admonished at the mistreatment of the glasses he had just saved at their last Potions practical.

“I can’t have them on when I do this,” he explained before he dropped, going completely underwater before shooting back up like a rocket, his soaked hair clinging to his equally wet face.

He came up with a “Woo” before shaking his head viciously, spraying water across Regulus’ face and causing his hair to land and stick out in all odd directions.

“Won’t be falling asleep tonight, Merlin, it's so cold,” he said, wiping excess water off his face. He looked at Regulus’ expression and continued, “In a good way, very refreshing you know?” he said, voice high in pitch as if trying to encourage him to join in.

“You’re crazy.”

“Your turn,” James said, pointing to the water with a tip of the head, Regulus followed the line of his strong jaw to the water beneath them. The moonlight reflected on the water and was causing shadows to dance dramatically across his face, the antithesis to the way he seemed that morning on the shore in the sunlight.

Regulus was just about to do so but came up short, instead staring down at the water that was so close to him now, just threatening to wrap around his throat and close his airway. He hated himself for how weak he was in the face of James Potter who seemed to face every situation with the wild courage of a Gryffindor.

“I’m surprised you haven’t just dunked me underwater already,” Regulus breathed knowing that no one else would handle him with the same patience James did.

James just shook his head softly, tipping his head back to look up at the stars, exposing the long column of his throat, “You Blacks really are something else.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Regulus frowned.

“On the contrary, I quite like Blacks, they’re just a bit dreary, always expecting something bad to happen,” he tutted, his hair still dripping around them, speaking about them as if he wasn’t faced with one right now.

“I prefer the term realistic.”

“Is your reality really so depressing?” James asked.

He meant it lightheartedly, surely he did, with his slight smile and bright eyes but the words struck Regulus so wholly, burrowing deep into his chest that Regulus immediately pulled back, their hands that had begun to find each other under the water again going back to his sides in an instant.

Of course his reality was “so” depressing. How James could be so stupid just astonished Regulus, he ought to think more before he spoke. He couldn’t tell whether he was more angry or sad as the two emotions collided with each other, fighting for dominance and instead forcing him to deal with both in full measure.

He was being sensitive and dramatic, yes but it was the comment coupled with the fact that he had received a letter from Orion this time that their uncle, Alphard, had passed away just a few days ago.

Alphard was a bit of an idol to him and Sirius and despite being blasted off the family tree for his “ways,” he still cherished them as nephews, often sending them secret letters and treats they wouldn’t otherwise receive. Alphard was happy, sending them ‘postcards’ from places all around the world and exotic candies from places Regulus didn’t know existed. 

Something about his passing was so final, like proof that a life away from the Blacks only ended unfortunately and premature.

James’ words about a ‘sad life’ just reminded him of the raw wound left from his uncle and the fact that they had this conversation in the Lake, a place he hated almost as much as Grimmauld, only magnified his feelings.

He stepped away, making to stomp back to the shore but in his haste he tripped in the thick malleable sand, his foot getting caught causing him to tip forward just a few feet away from James.

He connected with the water with a harsh smack and the water quickly pulled him under, submerging him completely.  He couldn't decide whether his eyes were open or not as he was met with all-encompassing darkness and water was filling his lungs, flooding his being, and he was back to that night in September, back to his body not being his and him slowly dying.

His feet slipped against the ground and he was still too far to reach anything with his hands and he flailed and heard distant sounds of splashing, the water around him moving madly from the disturbance, and he was only under for a moment longer before he was pulled up by his arms.

His eyes remained shut as he froze, being supported by James alone who had gone from grabbing his arms to securing them around his midsection, not allowing him to move another inch.

The cold water on his face was replaced with hot tears as he forced his mind to come back to the present instead of focusing on the past, to still itself and take him out of this recurring nightmare.

If he had just listened to James, he wouldn’t be here now, forced to face his fears rather than confronting them on his own, terrified.

He hated himself for being so weak but couldn’t fight the force within him that repulsed the water, repulsed James and everything to do with him. His fear of the water was turning into a fear of James and his power over him and Regulus didn’t know what to do because he couldn’t escape either, the evidence of that clear in this moment where the only sounds were James’ heavy breaths in his ear.

He held Regulus close to his chest, his skin burning hotly against his, “I’m sorry,” he whispered nonstop, a mantra.

He walked them both back to shore, setting them down a few healthy paces away from the water and he put his hands on either side of Regulus’ face, his own eyes looking between his in a show of concern and perhaps, fear.

He grabbed his wand and instantly cast warming charms around them and drying spells on them both, forcing the water that was weighing them down so heavily to disappear in a futile attempt to erase the incident that was burned into Regulus’ mind.

While the event was sudden and shocking, forcing Regulus to confront his fear so unexpectedly, he hated how much he feared it, how weak he was in the face of it all.

Everything Walburga had said about him being useless in the past seemed to be true now as he sobbed in the face of the Lake.

He forced himself to calm himself enough to speak, “I- I’m fine,” his voice coming out shaky and wrong, sounding nothing like himself.

“No, it was my fault, I’m- I’m so sorry Reg I shouldn’t have-” James rattled quickly, his chest heaving with how quick his breaths were coming.

“Don’t you ever get tired,” Regulus complained, angry at the way James took everything on, shouldered others’ emotions as though he didn’t have any, apologised to Regulus for actions that were entirely his own fault.

“Tired?” James asked frantically, puzzled, his hands now resting on Regulus’ shoulders.

“It’s my fucking fault, stop apologising,” Regulus complained, trying to gather his energy to stand and leave yet his limbs were still shaky and not entirely his own.

“No, I said I would help you and I didn’t, I was too pushy and I-.”

“I don’t need you to help me, how many times do I have to explain, I don’t need-.”

“It doesn’t matter what you need, I’m here willingly,” James gesticulated wildly, his voice rapidly gaining power again.

“Why!” Regulus shouted now, his emotions boiling over and he knew he was just projecting onto James, misplacing his anger as per usual, but he just needed an outlet and James had the misfortune of being the object of his ire. He’d surely feel bad about it tomorrow but for now, he was blind with emotion.

“I don’t know, okay! I just-” his voice cracked with the last word as he looked around, as if trying to find the rest of his sentence in the night around them. His face was contorted into one of pain and confusion and it was so unsettling on his face that Regulus had to turn away, reminded that every interaction they had seemed volatile and ended up with him blowing up and James left to face it with the faintest of armour.

Regulus turned back and stepped away from the little warming charm James had cast and scooped up his previously discarded jumper, shoving it on harshly.

“W-Wait,” James spoke again, voice lower than before.

“What Potter,” Regulus huffed, feeling cold and embarrassed and in need of his bed.

“That’s why I care,” he said, not referencing anything in particular.

Regulus looked around then back at him, forcing him to continue.

“The sleeve, Look at the inside of the left sleeve,” he choked out.

Regulus felt his limbs move on their own accord, slipping back the left sleeve to reveal his pale skin and he flipped around the inside of the sleeve and sure enough, written through the knitted fabric with gold thread were the letters J.P.

So it was never Sirius’ jumper but James’, that’s who Regulus seemed to have been drawn to by some unknown force, pushing him to find solace in James’ jumper out of the dozens that were Sirius’ alone.

The sight stunned him, more than anything else that evening, as he just stared and stared at the thread, tracing it with his eyes.

In the time he did that, James stepped up to him and he reached out, unfolding the sleeve over Regulus’ and holding it there, as if forcing him to keep the jumper on and Regulus felt the two letters burning a brand on his skin.

He dropped his hand quickly and turned away, ignoring the scent of the jumper that filled his nose, unable to discern what was James and what was Sirius, only knowing that he found comfort in it either way, finding it felt like home.

Chapter Text

“Alright, what is it?” Remus asked abruptly, breaking through the silent calm that had settled over their corner of the greenhouses.

Remus was sitting on an upturned box, cutting the thorns from the stalks of the white roses that were to be used for Sprout’s next class while Regulus was planting new seeds in the adjacent box for when the students inevitably destroyed those roses and needed replacements.

“What do you mean?” Regulus asked, sitting right on the ground with his legs folded under him.

“You’ve been quiet the entire time we’ve been here,” the other boy said very astutely. He’d also been quiet the entire time though Regulus figured he had been conducting his own experiment and waiting to see when Regulus would break the veil of silence that he’d cast over them.

“I’m always quiet.”

Remus made a humming noise “Not this quiet,” he then raised a hand and started counting, “You always have something to say about how bad the coffee was brewed this morning, then you usually have a complaint about some assignment, maybe an odd comment about another student if you’re feeling particularly spicy, and then finally, you make a recommendation on what Sprout should make to our list. So far, you haven’t mentioned any of those things.”

Regulus paused and turned a questioning look to the boy next to him who hadn’t looked up, focused entirely on cutting each individual thorn on the long stalks in front of him. He wasn’t even wearing gloves or any sort of protective gear as Regulus might have but it was unnecessary anyways as Remus cradled each petal and leaf with extreme tenderness as though it were a being that had the capacity to feel pain. Despite Remus’ rather extreme looks, he held such an air of comfort and tenderness around him that Regulus felt bad about ever having bought into whatever extreme lies and theories other students had conjured up about him.

“Well aren’t you observant,” Regulus replied dubiously. As he thought about it, Remus was rather right and Regulus vowed to be a bit more unpredictable, just to keep the other boy on his toes as he often did to Regulus.

“You also haven’t been showing up to Potions though I don’t need to be too observant for that considering James is hopeless on his own and his entire vial last week ended up on my back ,” Remus said angrily and then shivered, as if reliving the entire experience again.

Regulus couldn’t help a small laugh at that despite the unfortunate feeling that sinked in about having missed an entire week of classes, Slughorn wasn’t pleased but Regulus had just told him that Madam Pomfrey had excused him from Potions because the fumes were making his brain funny. Thankfully, neither the mediwitch nor the professor really enjoy the other’s company so they hadn’t checked in with the other to verify the validity of his statement.

Regulus’ week of freedom from James would be coming to an end in just two days. He’d managed to avoid the other boy by taking different routes to his other classes, taking meals directly in the Kitchen, leaving or arriving at Quidditch practice early or late depending on when Gryffindor was practising, and so on.

He kept saying to himself that he didn’t care about James but when he thought about all that he’d done just to avoid seeing him, it would seem that he was simply lying to himself.

As it happens, he rather cared too much about James so the only logical thing he could do, especially after his outburst, was to stay away from him. Regulus was horrible, knew he was, and while his friends accepted that and seemed to like him anyways, James was forced into his orbit for this experiment so it was best to cut ties early and end both of their suffering.

“And what were you lot working on?”

“ Itching Powder,” he ground out and that caused Regulus to fully start laughing now, unable to even pretend he wasn’t under Remus’ glare.

Remus kicked a leg out to strike Regulus but missed, nearly toppling over himself. He threw a hand out on the ground to support him, narrowly missing the small jar of thorns he’d gathered and under Regulus’ sharp eyes, he was now completing his work adorning thick gloves,

“How long did you keep itching around school then?”

“Two hours , Pomfrey wouldn’t even give me anything, said it was character building to deal with it,” Remus grumbled, his character clearly still unaffected.

“You’re lucky then, itching powder has a half-life of about three hours so Potter clearly didn’t brew it correctly,” Regulus offered, remembering. “You also don’t have any marks left over on you so it was definitely too diluted.You should be happy that I wasn’t the one who brewed it.”

“Know that much about it do you?” Remus asked with a questioning brow.

“Our mum used to keep a bottle of that on hand for when Sirius and I were bad, she’d put it on our clothes and make us wear it for the day, if we moved or scratched too much, we’d get in trouble. I don’t think she realised that after a certain amount of doses, the powder doesn’t really work so I’d always have to remind Sirius to scratch behind his ears or his arms for show. Sometimes he’d go a bit overboard though so I had to do some research on it,” Regulus rattled off why he even had this knowledge at all. 

A lot of his magical tact stemmed from memories just like that. While Sirius stuck out every sort of punishment Walburga doled out to them, growing stronger from it, Regulus was more subservient and instead turned to research on how to withstand it and hope that he was never faced with the same punishment again.

Regulus had begun shovelling little pockets in the soil to begin planting the seeds when the silence seemed a bit heavy and he turned back to Remus who was staring at him with an odd look glinting in his amber eyes. His lips were pursed and he was looking at Regulus like he was a thorny rose that needed assistance.

“Oh stop that,” Regulus rolled his eyes, tired of the whole ‘looking at him like he was a sad puppy’ thing his friends had taken to doing whenever he offered a childhood story. It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t relate to them. His friends’ family life wasn’t the best by any means but they still had some sort of ally in their corner. Regulus had Sirius.

“I didn’t say anything,” Remus turned away, the roses suddenly enthralling again.

“Yeah but I felt it y’know,” Regulus smiled ruefully.

It was nice the way Remus didn’t push or prod or treat him like a charity case, he just listened and moved on. He didn’t know if Remus felt the same but he’d consider him…a friend. Unexpected but not unwelcome in the slightest with his dry wit and kind demeanor.

They finished the rest of the work in silence and Remus’ parting words were, “Don’t skip on Monday, you can’t leave me alone with the rest of them.”

Regulus said, “No promises,” but he’d be there, of course he would.

____

The following day, news of their Uncle’s passing was weighing extra heavily on Regulus as he watched Sirius for the entire past week, laughing and smiling like nothing was wrong. Regulus was one hundred percent sure he would not have been acting like that had he known the truth and knew with some regret that he would have to break the news- it was unfair for Sirius to not know the truth with how important the man was to both of them.

The problem was, despite just the usual feeling of not wanting to talk to Sirius, the feeling was exacerbated because he was constantly in the presence of one of his friends and more often than not, that friend was James so it was doubly worse.

However, when Sirius and James went up to the Astronomy Tower to where Regulus had chosen to spend the evening, missing the solace of the Lake but not daring to go down there, he figured the time was right.

“Reggie,” Sirius’ voice was at odds with the gentle breeze and mist that felt from the skies not too far above them. The creak of the door was drowned out by the sound of the rain but nothing could mask Sirius’ voice from Regulus, his ear adeptly attuned to the way he spoke unlike anyone else.

Regulus was sitting in an alcove, one hand on his lap and the other hanging outside of the window, the soft air threading through his fingers and cooling his skin. He was half wet and he turned to Sirius with slick hair, pushing it back with one hand, “Sirius."

“What are you doing here?” he asked, as if it was a crime to see Regulus up here. James was just at his side, staring at him as though he was a stranger.

“Well you see, at eleven years old I received a letter to join my dear brother at a school for witchcraft and wizardry, then- actually I think you know the rest,” Regulus answered, feeling asinine.

He had come here with a plan to do something while he moped but his Astronomy homework was laid on the ground, untouched considering the visibility tonight was practically zero. He hadn’t factored that into this half-baked plan of his.

“What are you here for then?” Regulus asked, wondering what plans they might have had here as they hadn’t brought anything with them.

“Nothing just…looking,” James broke out awkwardly when Sirius had taken too long to reply

Sirius’ hair was tied up in a knot with a small leather band, only half of his hair was able to be tied up as the rest of it fell in clumps around his neck. Regulus’ hair was long, already curling under his ears but he didn’t think he’d ever manage to have long hair like his brother did, like most things, it just wouldn’t look right.

James looked how he always did, which was to say perfect if slightly dishevelled. 

Regulus had so much baggage with the two of them, he and Sirius had a lifetime while he and James only had a few months, though the pain and weight from both was significant. He wondered what they felt when they looked at him? Did they feel anything ? He hoped he was more than just an unfortunate footnote in their lives.

“I imagine you’ve been looking at this tower for the past six years.”

“Yes well, no harm in a bit of a refresher,” Sirius said, awkwardly, stilted. His voice had even changed in their time apart, losing that sort of aristocratic quality their parents ingrained in them where they were to speak in whole sentences, enunciating each and every letter. He still spoke to Regulus in this tone, professional and emotionless, and he hated it.

He hadn’t yet left though, as if he wanted to continue the conversation but didn’t have the words to say it and so Regulus took this opportunity, uncaring if James was there because quite frankly, he always would be. Even if he wasn’t, James would probably find out within the same hour Sirius did.

“I received a letter from dad last week,” Regulus began and then paused, waiting

He was looking somewhere between the two boys on his right and the view of the grounds on the left. It was too hard to look at them but looking completely away felt dismissive. Again in this ‘in between’ stage he drowned himself in.

“Oh lovely, do tell me what was in it, does daddy dearest miss me yet?” Sirius cooed, bringing a hand up to his heart dramatically. James didn’t laugh, instead choosing to stare at Regulus as if hoping to find the words before he even dared utter them just to prepare.

“Uncle Alphard died.”

The world held its breath as a hush fell over the tower.

Regulus finally turned to look fully at Sirius and he wished he had looked the other way for the way his brother’s features contorted into one of such pain and grief. His eyebrows knitted together and his face wrinkled as he frowned and shook his head vehemently. He staggered back as though Regulus had struck him.

James stood frozen, watching them both, eyes wide and mouth slightly open in shock. 

“That’s not fucking funny Reg,” he gasped out.

“I’m not joking, Sirius. He had a heart attack in Majorca.”

“But he just- he just sent me a letter from there. No I don’t even- what the fuck even is a heart attack?” Sirius burst out, gripping his head and pulling the hair loose from the strap.

It was true, Uncle Alphard had sent them a postcard from the very same location just before he died. He spoke about the food and how once they were both of age, he’d bring them with him just so they could see the same view he had when he was writing it. It would seem they would never get that experience.

“It’s a muggle affliction, his heart just stopped,” Regulus explained.

After a moment, “This happened last week and you’re telling me now? What were you waiting for?” Sirius said, angry now, as predictable as ever.

“I didn’t mean to, you were just always busy and-.”

“That’s not an excuse Reg, we go to the same fucking school and I know I’m not part of the “family” anymore but that was my uncle ,” Sirius spat the words, adding the ‘my’ as a jab. Regulus hadn’t even yet thought of Sirius as not being in the family anymore, the lifetime of memories outweighing a scorched mark on an ancient tapestry.

“I cared about him too, you know that-.”

“I don’t know anything about you anymore.”

And there it was.

Regulus knew Sirius as well as he knew himself, knew that he would go from shock to disbelief to anger in less than a minute just as he had right now. He knew how Sirius favoured his left hand growing up until Walburga lashed his hand so hard he was forced to move to his right, knew how he still limped sometimes after running for too long again because of their mother, knew that he was immune to the damned itching powder.

Beyond that, he knew Sirius’ favourite colour was red, knew he loved to play Poker- a game Regulus never managed to learn, knew he liked to sneak out at night just to go on walks along their street alone, knew he chewed on his nails when he was nervous.

Sirius constantly limited their interactions to Grimmauld and now that he was gone he acted like he didn’t know any of them anymore, as though the last decade and a half of his life was gone in an instant. 

Was Regulus the only one who ever cared in their relationship? How could he reconcile the boy across from him with the one who would stand in front of him in the face of Walburga’s punishments?

“I’m still the same person I was,” he said quietly.

“Maybe that’s the problem,” Sirius replied mournfully.

The words fell like a guillotine, striking Regulus right in his jugular, slicing him clean open and leaving him to bleed out. The four words were so simple and yet they hit Regulus with such force they might as well have been a curse. He was forced to look away with a sharp inhale.

There was the sound of shuffled footsteps and a door creaking open before slamming closed.

Regulus shut his eyes and sighed deeply leaning his head back on the wall behind him. A single tear escaped his eye, trailing down his cheek slowly. A million thoughts and feelings poured into a single drop that he’d let fall.

“I’m sorry.”

Regulus' eyes snapped open, he hadn’t realised James had stayed. He stood in the centre of the room, the moonlight slanting in through the open shafts and playing shadows on his face. This play of light across dark features was how he knew James best.

“I didn’t know.”

“Yes well I suspect it didn’t make the Prophet, disowned relative and all,” Regulus cut out.

“I have to-,”

“Go,” Regulus supplied, a completion and an order.

He turned away, effectively ending the conversation and allowing James his out. There were a few more moments of stilted silence before James followed in Sirius footsteps and left, just as he expected him to.

No matter how he expected him to, he couldn’t deny what he wanted .

He wanted James to stay .

He stayed there for two more hours before forcing his frozen limbs to move, to crawl down from his alcove, gather his work, and leave.

And there, sitting on top of the rest of the papers, was a note.

Regulus,

Same place, Same time

I have an idea, I hope you’ll come

James

_____

Regulus was in his usual school robes today, a large step back from the progress they’d made but a necessary one.

James was sitting on the shore and he was in his as well. No brightly coloured swimming shorts or exposing tops, just robes that showcased absolutely nothing but were just as striking. Every time he saw James it was like the first time, he didn't think he'd ever get used to the sight of him so close and waiting for him as though he had nothing better to do.

Regulus arrived from the same path he always traversed and sat right next to James, assuming the same position he always did.

They remained in silence for a few long moments, both of them staring forward out towards the large expanse of the lake in front of them, a most familiar sight but daunting nonetheless especially with the tension that hung in the air.

“I wanted to apologise for last week. I know you said I shouldn’t take on your feelings but this is how I feel, I didn’t know what happened and I misspoke and I didn’t mean for you to fall. It was all too much,” James spoke in order, saying each word with intent. It sounded rehearsed from the robotic tone in which he said it and Regulus almost missed his usual rambling way of speaking.

Unfamiliar with apologising and not quite knowing how to do it properly, Regulus allowed his guilt to outweigh the discomfort and spoke, “I also wanted to apologise. I was- I was over sensitive and dramatic. I have been ever since we started and you don’t deserve that so…I'm sorry.” 

James turned to look at him then, hair ruffled and eyes bright. His tie was just slightly undone and his robes were thrown open to reveal his wrinkled white shirt and black trousers. Regulus wished he could reach out and smooth the fabric down all while feeling the heat of his skin under the thin cloth.

Regulus followed the line of his legs that were stretched out before him, one bent upwards while the other lay flat. His trousers had pulled up with the movement and Regulus caught sight of red socks with little golden snitches flying around his ankles. They were so absurd but also entirely expected of James that even his socks were as loud as him. A glance at his own socks would reveal one black sock on his right and a grey one on his left, he never managed to find a perfect match.

Regulus shivered and the other boy flourished his hand and just as comforting as ever, his warming charm fell around them both, immediately softening his initial cold demeanour he had come with, automatically welcoming and melting into the warmth. He wondered when James had managed that one considering he had used his wand every other time in the past.

“It’s okay,” James smiled as if Regulus hadn’t scowled at him, said rude words, and ignored him for days without apology. Regulus knew with immense certainty that he was too good for any of them, he wasn’t sure anyone could be deserving of James and his heart.

“I wanted to start over though,” he introduced. “I’m just James and you’re Regulus, no house differences, no siblings or friends to consider, nothing outside of us and the Lake.” He inhaled deeply and took on a more tentative tone as he continued, “I also have decided I want to learn Occlumency which I hear you are fantastic at so while I continue to teach you how to swim, starting from scratch, I’d like you to teach me Occlumency, like a give and take you see.”

Regulus sat, dumbfounded, by James’ ‘idea.’

He wasn’t even sure if it was possible to just forget everything, cast their entire lives and history aside as if it was nothing considering the first few times they had even spoken directly to each other revolved around that. Sure they had grown slightly since then, seeing each other for who they were not where they came from but still, to overcome all that would take herculean effort.

Then came the idea of Occlumency. Regulus didn’t know how James even knew he possessed the ability but he couldn’t teach it to James when he barely even knew how he did it himself. It was something he had just sort of developed and simply refined as he grew up, nothing more. How would he be able to teach it to James who was probably unfamiliar with the words ‘restraint’ and ‘patience.’

“Occlumency? Why?” he managed to ask, considering how obscure that line of magic was and most people never cared to learn it, leaving it to those who had tried and succeeded. It was a sort of ‘in the know’ type of magic and if one wasn’t in the know, they wouldn’t attempt it. Regulus considered it somewhere in the Animagus category of magic.

“Well it seems like a good skill to have and seeing as I’m with an expert, why not?”

“Occlumency isn’t just something you can do on a whim, I mean have you ever even tried?” Regulus began, using his hands to gesticulate to add emphasis to his words. “And I’m not an expert,” he tacked onto the edge of the previous statement.

“I mean you’re an expert at it like I am an expert at swimming. Compared to others, I might be shite, but compared to you, who knows nothing about it, I’m basically a god,” James pointed out, biting his lip at the edge of the statement, sharp canines biting into the soft pink flesh.

Seeing few other options and distracted by the way James’ collar had shifted slightly to reveal the angle of his collar bone, Regulus managed to say an extremely reluctant and probably regrettable, “Okay.” 

The moment was reminiscent of when he promised James he’d ‘try’ to swim back in August. He only hoped he could keep this promise with the second chance he had been given.

James’ returning smile was enough to make it all worth it. His shining white teeth a beacon in the night while the rest of his bronze features glew from within. He had a light flush about him and Regulus didn’t know whether it was from their words or the heat of the wards but Regulus enjoyed whatever it was.

“Is that why you wore your robes today then?” Regulus asked, eyeing them.

“No, these are courtesy of detention with Flitwick. I may have accidentally charmed his chalk to write little haikus about each of his students whenever he tried to write our lecture for the day,” James grinned sheepishly, leaning in as though telling Regulus a piece of gossip. “I didn’t have time to change before coming down here.”

“You’re unbelievable,” Regulus shook his head. “Is this really what we met here for? No swimming lessons or races to be had?”

“Not necessarily, I wasn’t sure you’d show up at all then if you did, I didn’t know how you’d react to my plan,” he shrugged.

“So that’s it then,” Regulus stated.

“Mhm, we’re free to go,” James nodded.

Neither of them left, instead remaining rooted to the spot, side by side, looking at the Lake, gazing up at the stars, or stealing glances from each other and pretending not to notice.

It was a rare comfortable silence where neither of them felt the need to fill it with empty words or unnecessary comments. They made intentional comments about things that concerned their classes or even their interests if the topic came to it such as how Regulus believed every pasta shape had a different taste and how some were better than others or James who was a firm believer that many of his favourite Muggle artists had to be wizards based on their sheer talent and eccentricity.

Each nugget of information gleaned from James felt like a victory to Regulus and he really truly understood what it was like to know James Potter and just how fundamentally it changed a person.

The night regrettably came to a close when James’ eyes slowly began to fall shut as he lay on his back, star gazing through the small gaps in the thick clouds above them.

“Oh come on, we don’t want a repeat of last time now do we?” Regulus asked as a joke, readying to stand up and brave the cold.

“I didn’t mind,” James whispered too quietly.

_____

The coffee the following morning was brewed perfectly, bitter and strong, so aromatic that each sip Regulus took felt like a full body experience. It was slightly sweet at the end- a happy surprise that felt like exactly what he needed on a Monday morning.

He finished his first mug full instantly and went for another, just as many of the other students around him had done.

Coffee was a popular choice among Slytherins and it seemed like there were even House divisions in beverage choice where they drank coffee, Gryffindors opted for pumpkin juice, Hufflepuffs stuck to tea, and Ravenclaws had their pick of various brightly coloured juices for breakfast. While other drinks were offered to each group of tables, there seemed to be a pattern where the majority of each house went for their ‘designated’ drink.

Regulus surreptitiously cast a glance around the room over the rim of his cup, his eyes landing on the Gryffindor table as per usual. He ought to start sitting on the other side of the table facing the wall just to control himself.

Evan and Barty were sitting across from him, indulging in the coffee and speaking specifically about what ‘notes’ they could gather- Barty arguing that it was more fruity whereas Evan vehemently said it was definitely floral. 

Marlene was in deep conversation with Evans and Macdonald. His eyes glanced over to James and he briefly thought about where their relationship might be at the moment and if he would ask her to the ball this time around. When he looked back, he noticed Lily’s arm slung around Mary’s waist, her hand tapping absently against her side in an action that teetered just slightly along ‘more than friends.’ It was innocuous enough but this was just one of the many times he caught the two girls closer than what he thought might be usual but then again, Gryffindors were always just full of love to give apparently.

James and co. were all sitting in their standard square formation, Sirius and James next to each other with Remus and Peter on the other side and something about them was off today. None of them were speaking to each other though none of them seemed particularly mad or tired, just more preoccupied. They were blindly taking bites of their food while glancing at their table, scanning up and down quickly as if looking for something, Peter going so far as to fully turn around in his bench until Sirius snapped at him and he turned back.

Regulus took to following James’ gaze but couldn’t find anything that stood out to him.

They all looked so ridiculous that Regulus couldn’t help but start laughing. What started out as giggling rapidly dissolved into full-on laughter, the kind where nothing was exactly funny but you couldn’t stop laughing and anytime you tried to hold it in, it came out with even more intensity.

Barty and Evan began laughing across from him, likely coming to an agreement about where the coffee was from and they turned from each other to Regulus, tears already beading at their eyelines.

“What’s so funny?” Barty asked, his voice bordering on hysteria.

“I don’t know,” Regulus continued laughing and he took another sip of coffee to calm him down but it didn’t help.

All down the table, almost every single Slytherin was laughing, some giggling while others were guffawing, barely containing themselves as they clutched their sides and were bent over the table.

“Oh my- Oh my fucking- god,” Dorcas exclaimed between bouts of laughter.

Regulus watched in awe as Snape, Mulciber, and Avery and the upper year Slytherins were all chortling with laughter and he didn’t think he’d ever seen a smile on their faces before this moment and it was rather disconcerting.

“What the fuck?” Evan choked out and while he was smiling, his eyebrows were drawn together and his voice was nervously high in pitch.

Regulus was clutching the stitch that had formed in his side and was wiping the tears that spilled from his eyes when he looked back at the Gryffindors in front of them.

They were all staring intently at them, just as everyone else in the Hall now was, and they too were laughing but it was accompanied by shoulder nudges and sneaky smiles.

They had spiked the coffee- that was the sweet taste, of course they did. This particular potion was one that Regulus did not necessarily have extensive research on and had no idea how long it’d last or what it would take to get it out of their system.

Regulus was sure he’d get abs from this as would his friends and everyone else who had the misfortune of choosing coffee to start their week off. It was a shame because of how good it tasted as well, it may be a worthy trade considering how bad it usually tasted.

James was staring at him, the ghost of a smile lingering on his features, a small dimple popping out at the edges. His eyes were bright in the morning light and they were pinned on Regulus, his smile only widening when he noticed Regulus looking back at him.

Regulus shook his head in what should have been a stern motion but now it just looked like a playful gesture.

It would turn out that Madam Pomfrey wasn’t prepared for such an influx of afflicted students and was only doling out the anecdote to certain students who had more than their fill of coffee and were now teetering on the edge of madness. His full on cackling had only quieted to giggling and the pain in his abdomen eased infinitesimally. 

“Sh- Shut up,” Regulus grumbled to Remus who was grinning at him when he entered the room.

As Regulus sat down, he just buried his face in his crossed arms on the tabletop, trying to keep the laugh at bay for the entirety of the time that Slughorn was talking and only when he sat back down and allowed them time to work did he sit up and continue laughing freely.

Avery was still giggling with it though his friends had been given the anecdote along with a few of the Slytherin girls spattered around the room.

“Why?” Regulus laughed out at James who might as well have been poisoned as well for how he was also on the edge of a breakdown since this all started. He was a masochist taking joy in Regulus’ pain.

“Well it would seem some of your friends thought we’d all look prettier if we smiled, along with some other choice words, they’re just paying it back,” Marlene spoke over her shoulder, sending him a wink as punctuation.

“But the coffee? That’s cruel” Regulus complained, his body fully aching by now.

“But effective,” James offered before seeing Regulus’ cold eyes and leaning back away with a raise of his eyebrows.

“I should think my standing with you would have at least granted me a warning,” Regulus said, side-eyeing him. 

“Sorry this happened just last night, I didn’t have time,” he said, genuinely sounding apologetic about it. 

“You couldn’t have given me one of your little magical notes?” he asked because really, it's been eating at him. Every so often his hand will brush against the pocket in his bag containing them and the desire to know how he managed them reignited itself in his mind. 

“Doesn’t quite work out like that,” he grimaced but didn’t continue to explain. 

“I’ll remember that as I’m rifling around in your brain when we practise,” Regulus threatened. 

“Hey at least we made it taste good, Moony said it normally tasted like shite,” he said again, raising his voice when he mentioned his friend's name, or rather his peculiar nickname. 

Remus stiffened as Regulus shot daggers at his back, remembering Remus’ comments about how he always complained about the quality of coffee during their sessions at the greenhouse. Here he thought Remus just cared about what he had to say but turns out he was an evil little shite.

“Did he now?” he laughed and Regulus could see the tips of his ears pink.

They worked in relative silence, as much as he could manage, until by the end of class, his laughing finally subsided and he turned back to Dorcas who was also catching her breath with a look of immense relief. He didn’t think he ever wanted to laugh or smile again as he finally relaxed the muscles in his face and body.

“You really do have a nice smile though,” James whispered as he leaned over to grab an ingredient on Regulus’ other side, his breath ghosting over the shell of his ear.

What was it about James that had him breaking every promise he made himself? He came up blank as he moved to hide his blooming smile in the crux of his other arm.

Chapter Text

Hogsmeade weekend was upon them and the castle was in chaos as everyone woke up early, ate breakfast in a mad rush, and headed to the village right after in hopes of getting all of their Christmas shopping done in a single day. It was highly ambitious but Regulus was certainly a part of it as he jumped around to put his shoes on while a toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth.

At breakfast he and his friends had all agreed to separate until noon where they could reconvene at the Three Broomsticks and it would seem everyone else had the same idea as many students roamed the village alone, walking in and out of the glistening store fronts and keeping their eyes on the lookout for anyone who may be snooping on them. Many shops had even taken to bagging items in plain black bags so as to conceal every detail about what may be inside and where from.

It seemed just a touch dramatic.

Regulus ambled along the street, the sounds of people chatting and music filtering out of shops creating a nice atmosphere and he stuffed his hands into his pockets in a feeble attempt at keeping them warm. The scarf tied tightly around his neck tickled him but it was all he could do to not freeze mid-step and be added to a store-front as a new statue. He smelled hot chocolate somewhere and vowed to get at least a cup, or five, while here.

He walked into the Quidditch Supply shop first and bought a set of gloves, broom polish, and a bundle of tins that when applied to a broom are meant to help speed, balance, and overall performance improval while flying.. He also bought a few things to help keep the wood on the broom and bristles at the end strong as Dorcas’ broom was a hand-me-down from her older brother. She refused a new broom saying the one she had was just as good as any other but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy a few things to keep it in shape.

He tucked them in the pockets of his robes that were supposed to be endless, whether or not they actually were could be called into question. He hoped that he had done the spell correctly or else he’d just thrown Dorcas’ present into the void, never to be seen again.

He was on his way out when he passed by a girl who was standing and staring at a row of gloves. She’d been in the exact same spot when he’d walked in and was still there now. Her arms were crossed and she was biting her nails as she remained motionless except for her eyes that were darting all around.

She turned and caught him staring and he’d only managed a step when, 

“Excuse me!”

He froze, sighed to himself, and backtracked.

She was standing at the edge of the aisle, “I’m sorry but you played Quidditch right? My boyfriend wants these gloves and I just don’t know which ones to get, he’s on the Hufflepuff team, Ezra?”

If he remembered correctly, Ezra was a chaser so really any gloves could work. He walked up the aisle and found the best gloves for the job, feeling a pang considering he was helping the enemy but the girl looked so lost, he figured he’d be nice..

“These should be good,” he said, handing them to her.

She grasped them in both hands as if he’d given her some great treasure, “Thank you Sirius I know-.”

“I’m not Sirius?” he replied instantly.

She stopped up short and rubbed her eyes with a gloved hand, “Oh, Regulus, I’m so sorry, you just-.”

“Look like him?”

She nodded earnestly.

“I get that,” he said, making to leave anyway with a nod.

“Thank you Regulus ,” she called behind him to which he gave a small smile before leaving.

He supposed without the uniform he looked more like his brother than usual which was unfortunate. He and Sirius were less than a year apart, “Irish twins” so to speak so they looked far too similar for their own good. It had helped when they were younger and they wanted to switch places sometimes but it turned into a bad thing as they grew up and wanted to separate themselves from each other. 

It was hard to hate the sight of his brother when it was what he saw in the mirror almost everyday.

He went into “Herbs from Herb” for Evan, buying a rare small singing plant that would annoy the hell out of him but would probably delight him along with some new pots for the plants he already had. They were made from clay and had durable and growing charms on them so he’d never have to replace them when they got too small or Barty accidentally knocked them over- a frequent occasion.

Herb was a kind old man with a large bristly white beard and huge eyes magnified by his thick frames. He was probably cute, if a bit senile, and had convinced Regulus that he must buy something called a “Lover’s song.”

He led Regulus to the depths of his shop past jumping cacti and blossoming flowers into a small corner and it was as if he was dragging him into the jungle for how the plants had all become overgrown and wild here.

“Oh watch your step!” the man advised and he had to dodge an oversized Venus flytrap that snapped at his ankles.

He was ready to turn around and just give Evan a handshake when they finally came upon the plant they were looking for. 

On a shelf full of various fauna was a small pot containing a little green plant with white flowers. The top of the small shrub was perfectly round and the flowers atop were uniquely shaped, four petals shooting straight outward as though electrified. It was so perfectly arranged that it looked fake and he wondered if this was all a ruse.

He turned back to the man with a funny look on his face but he just stared up at Regulus with a large smile hidden under his thick facial hair, “You want it?”

“Er-.”

“I knew you would! Come on,” he said taking hold of Regulus' hesitation and he scooped up the small plant and led him back out of the jungle and into the main area of the shop.

And that is how he ended up with a small plant as well.

He pocketed it all straight away, not really caring if that specific plant ended up in the void. He’d probably just store it in the greenhouses and leave it up to Sprout anyways.

The thought reminded him of Remus and he wondered if he should buy him a gift. He’d become a lot closer than he thought he would be with the boy, occasionally speaking in Potions and going into full on debates in the greenhouses about the most inane topics.

With him in mind, he went into a small independent bookstore at the edge of the village that was practically abandoned save for a small woman behind the counter who raised a wrinkled hand at his arrival signified by a small bell above the door.

There were rows and rows of books stacked from floor to ceiling, muggle and magical interspersed with no actual reason behind them. There were books about explosive potions next to recipe books on how to make the best “burgers” but it was a comforting kind of chaos as the smell of parchment and ink flooded his senses.

He took his time, his head naturally falling to the side at a ninety degree angle so he could read the titles of the books he passed until something called to him.

That came in the form of a book titled “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen tucked away on the bottom shelf next to copies of the same book. It was cloth bound in a soft blue colour with a small golden ribbon wrapped around the width of it. He’d never heard of the book but he remembered Remus talking about her work. He didn’t know if he’d already read it but he took a chance and carried it as he continued.

He ended up getting a book about Astronomy as well, given his name, just in case he already had the first book and/or hated it. Regulus loved a good back up in times like this and he headed to the woman, Mariya, with them. She was quiet and her hands shook as she worked but she was sweet and he wondered if she knew Herb, they seemed like they’d make a good pair.

He stepped out of the shop with a wave and bumped into his favourite person in the whole world, his best friend really- Sirius.

Regulus was a breath away from apologising when he looked at him and frowned. Sirius’ head was tilted just slightly upward and the movement brought satisfaction to Regulus as he smirked down at him.

Remus was a step behind as he caught up to them and froze with a silent “Oh” on his lips.

“Beware what you have in your hands there Reg, that’s a muggle book if you didn’t already know, Mummy won’t like that,” Sirius quipped immediately, as if he had been practising that particular line the night beforehand.

“Oh, didn’t know you could read,” Regulus sighed, “that’s a relief, mum was getting worried.”

“Ta gueule,” he snapped offhand in French. (Fuck you).

“Quoi? tu ne peux pas jurer devant tes amis,” he replied with a slight lift of the brow. (What? Can’t curse in front of your friends?)

“Je voulais juste m'assurer que vous pouviez bien me comprendre,” he hissed. (I just wanted to make sure you could understand me clearly).

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec toi aujourd'hui?” (What the hell is wrong with you today?”). Remus remained looking at them warily, confused by the change of language, though his body language was tense as it seemed hexes or flying fists were universally understood.

“Comment allez-vous, bien? tu retournes dans une putain de prison,” he gritted out (How are you fine? You’re going back to a fucking prison). Sirius looked genuinely distressed at the idea of him going back and it was disconcerting, the stress clearly marring his features.

Regulus didn’t even know where this sudden change in topic was coming from or why he cared.

“Certains d'entre nous n'ont pas d'autre choix” (Some of us don’t get another choice) . It was true as it had been last year, as it always will be. He had reasoned this to himself a hundred times before- not everyone had an ‘out’ and that was fine. It had to be fine or else Regulus would quite literally crumble.

“Reste à l'école pour les vacances alors,” he whispered. (Stay at school for the holiday then) .

That was when it made sense- he wasn’t angry, it was just a facade. Sirius was scared, terrified for him. That’s why he had switched to French in the first place, it was a sort of comfort mechanism for them, the language they spoke just to each other when they were young before the outside world had come for them.

Sirius’ eyes were burning brightly but unlike the direct fire he tried to project it was more like  fiendfyre, wild and scared and burning up whatever came up in its path, unable to be controlled. 

“Tu n'es sûrement pas parti depuis si longtemps que tu as oublié les règles.” (Surely you have not been gone so long that you have forgotten the rules).

“Alright enough of the French,” Remus burst out, the thread of patience he had been holding onto suddenly snapping.

Then as he refocused on Sirius once more, he saw a small speck of white fall onto his raven black hair and a look up showed a sky full of snowflakes falling upon them, each one its own myriad of shapes and angles.

Joyeux noël Sirius, Merry Christmas Remus,” he said with a final look at them both before leaving, (Merry Christmas Sirius) .

The minute he was out of their sight, he felt his hand tremble and chest tighten. This entire month he had been deluding himself, ignoring what was to happen at the end of the month, postponing dealing with it but now it was upon him. They were due to leave in five days time to go back home and Sirius’ reaction brought on a barrage of memories.

The genuine fear in his eyes transferred to Regulus as he thought about what he’d have to endure alone for the first time.

RIght after his absence over the summer, his parents had been so preoccupied with being angry about his departure that they largely ignored him but now they were reignited with a sort of sick excitement in regards to whatever it was they did when they weren’t drunk as shown in their letters.

The little ball within him had been pulled at the seams by Sirius and he now felt a gaping well of dread in himself, infecting his bloodstream and making him want to run, run away from it all but there was nowhere to go.

Some of us don’t get another choice , he repeated to himself like a mantra, repeated it as he refocused on strengthening his mental walls in the small alley he had concealed himself in.

He strode back out of that alley the same Regulus he was before he had seen Sirius, the one who could handle it.

____

Barty was to receive a tattoo gun which could either go really good or really bad but either way, he knew he’d really like it.

He was getting ready to head back to the main square when he passed by a small shop that he’d never noticed before. It must be new based on the shiny exterior and gleaming windows that showcased all types of bits and pieces. He looked up and saw The Wishbone printed in shiny gold foiling across the front with an image of a butterfly in a jar next to it.

He stepped in and was instantly transported into another world where up was down and right was left as things hung from the ceiling and others stuck up from the ground. The shelves along the purple coloured walls were full of glass and metal trinkets, some chiming while others whirred.

If the corner of the plant shop was a jungle of plants then this was one of metal and glass, an antithesis and yet an exact replica.

He didn’t know what to focus on first- the plush monkey swinging across a branch strung across the ceiling, the fairy dancing on a tea plate, the brown cat slowly blinking at him from a perch next to a suit of armour, or the small fountain that squirted an unknown green liquid across the floor before absorbing it again.

One part of his brain was telling him to leave while the other convinced him to venture in further and eventually the latter won as he continued his journey. 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and took his gloves off so he could run his fingers across whatever he could, enjoying the various textures and feels of everything even if he didn’t even know what exactly they were.

Eventually, he came across a square glass table set in the middle of the path he’d created for himself. RIght in the corner, concealed by a pair of gnome statues was a small stone of the deepest black, darker than anything he’d ever seen before- he wasn’t even able to see the light from the small jars above him reflecting off the surface as it seemingly ate that up as well.

When he held it, it was as if there was a hole in his hand.

He brought it up closer to his face for closer inspection and as he spun the stone he saw something right in its’ centre- a little ball of light that changed colours the longer he stared at it- pink to green to yellow, the colours kept changing and he stared at it, mesmerised.

He was so entranced by it that he hadn’t noticed a woman appear next to him. Her hair was in a halo around her face, dark curls with threads of white growing out from her face in tight curls, eyes of the darkest brown, and skin rich with age. She was wearing a plain green dress but the accessories shone in the gold jewellery that gleamed across her wrists and neck.

“That’s the Spirit Stone,” she clarified, her voice deep and smooth as river stones, “Meant to burn brightly no matter where one is.”

“It doesn’t seem very bright to me,” Regulus immediately responded then cringed, wondering if she might be insulted.

She simply extended her hand in request and he handed it over to her.

The soulless stone instantly lit up, a star suddenly sprouting from a dark hole. It washed their corner of the store in rainbow light and it was as if he was encapsulated in a diamond in which light and colour were reflected off of every surface. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The bright light then slowly dimmed until it was just contained within the stone, threads of light animatedly writhing within it and making it seem as though the stone was alive.

He looked back up at the woman whose face reflected the bright light contained in her palm. 

“Bright enough yet?” she asked with a smirk.

“My gods, I’ve never seen- that was-,” he couldn’t find the words to explain what it was he saw or felt.

“I imagine you are buying Christmas presents for your friends, yes? I see all of you roaming past with nothing but fear in the eyes and fire under your behinds,” she snickered.

“Yes I am, I’ve never seen this shop before. Is it new?” he asked.

“It is, I bought it after my husband passed away- it was his dream,” she quieted, the stone dimmed.

“I’m sorry,” he replied automatically.

“Don’t be. He was sick, every day of his life was spent in pain, I’m just happy to know he is at peace now. He loved to collect things you see, such as this stone, and my house was overrun with these pieces of him. I opened this shop to sell them so that others may find joy in them too,” she explained, opening up to Regulus. 

He looked around in response, “He must have been an amazing man.”

“He was, now what were you thinking about when you held this stone?” she asked, peering up at him.

He thought about it until, “Nothing?”

She sighed dramatically, “Well of course nothing’s going to happen then, come on think of something, anything as long as it evokes something within you.”

He shut his eyes and dug back in his mind, knocking down some of the barriers he set to find something so this woman doesn’t think he’s a complete shell of a man.

He settled on the memory of his conversation with Sirius, not needing to back so far for the details or the feelings associated with it. The woman clasped his hand and slipped the stone within it and when he opened his eyes again, he was encapsulated in shades of blue and grey, the lights and colour dancing and repelling each other all at once.

He was sure the light that reflected off the woman’s face was reflected off his own as he spun in a small circle in awe. He felt like he was swimming in a pool of light.

Just as quickly as it came, it left, dimming down to just the small stone in his hand.

“The Stone feeds off of your emotions, it will burn only as brightly as you do- feel nothing, it will do nothing,” she finished.

“How much?” he asked instantly, the small object causing something to pulse within him with incessant need. 

“Take it,” she pushed.

“I can’t possibly-.”

“Give it to someone in your life that can keep the stone alive, perhaps their light will be enough to guide you as well.”

He was digging around in his pocket for money but when he looked up again, she was gone. He looked all around but it was as if she was never there at all and he sighed, knowing that he couldn’t navigate his way to a till even if he tried.

He still left some money on a small table that licked his fingers and stepped out, using the cat as a map to the entrance. He turned back to the shop with an odd feeling in him, as though the entire experience had just been a dream and he was just now waking up. 

The snow cushioned his steps as he walked towards his destination a bit early but it was no mind. He had spotted a young woman manning a cart of hot chocolate out front earlier and was determined to get a cup.

He was, however, stopped on the way by a body barreling right out of Zonko’s and into Regulus, knocking him straight onto the pile of snow that had been shovelled off the main path. He was now very grateful for it as he would’ve probably had a cracked skull without it.

He froze, stunned, for a few seconds as a face materialised in front of him.

It was James whose lips were moving faster than Regulus could comprehend.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, I just-,” he continued to blabber on.

“Potter,” Regulus choked.

“Yes?” he replied breathlessly above him.

“You’re suffocating me,” he gasped out and James quickly rolled off of him, easing the pressure on his screaming ribs. “Please tell me you have a good reason for running out of a shop into the street and running over innocent bystanders,” he said, still on the ground staring up at the clouded sky.

“Peter was chasing me with balding powder,” he whined and Regulus couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him at that. It was completely and utterly ridiculous, just like most things seemed to be with James.

He got off the ground and held out a warm hand for Regulus to grasp onto and pull him up.

Apparently using all of his force in the action too as he pulled Regulus right up to his chest, whipping an arm out to put behind him so he wouldn’t keel over from the kickback.

James’ features were snowkissed with his rosy cheeks and pink nose. He had a knitted cap atop his head, causing his hair to curl out wildly in the front and in any other spots it could escape from. His hands were ungloved, just as Regulus’ still were, but remained burning hot despite the chill.

He let go of Regulus’ hand and quickly patted all of the snow off of his cloak but he was already drenched anyway.

“Well I’d say it was worth it then,” Regulus finished, noting that James would look rather horrifying without any hair and if he was collateral damage in the fight against that, he was okay with it.

“Cheers,” he smiled. He was wearing a pair of black muggle denim and a bright red jumper, a rose in the midst of the grey and snowy village. He stood out among all the black- robed and capped witches and wizards that bustled around them though Regulus had an inkling that he would stand out even if he wore all black as well.

James was meant to be spotlighted.

“Er- Regulus?” came a voice from behind them, breaking their locked gazes.

It was Evan, arms laden with bags and looking at them as though they each had grown extra heads. He was holding two cups in his outstretched hands and Regulus could’ve cried with relief as he saw the steam floating out of the exposed lids.

He immediately jumped out of James arms as though they had been doing something elicit and turned without another word, shoving Evan forward into the pub.

“So…” he said, drawing out the ‘o.’

“He almost killed me, what’s new? Oh, there’s an open spot there,” he rushed forward towards the large table at the back that was rarely ever open.

Evan put his bags on the chair signalling to others that they were all taken and yes their friends were on the way and no they cannot borrow the chair.

“Finish your shopping?” Evan asked, head leaning back on the back of the booth. He was rubbing his wrists from where the handle of the bags had rubbed in deeply. Regulus sipped on the hot chocolate, savouring the heat that it spread on its way down.

“Oh yeah, just have some stuff that’ll come in the post for you all on Christmas.”

“Always going above and beyond our Reg,” he smiled.

Evan's golden hair was sticking to his head in wet patches and making him look younger than usual, his soft features highlighted with his cap and scarf turning him into a teddy bear. Regulus just wanted to squeeze his cheeks though Evan would probably hex his fingers off if he tried to.

“Where are the others?” Regulus asked, sneaking a look at the clock showing it was a quarter past 12.

“Who knows, they’re always getting sidetracked.”

Dorcas ended up walking in with Marlene a little while later, breaking apart with a cool nod of the head.

She stepped up to the table with a wide grin.

“She’s really got you huh?”

“She has not ,” she defended, the dopey smile betraying whatever she tried to negate with her words.

Then came Pandora and finally Barty who walked in with his apparent new girlfriend ‘Goldie’ and ended up sitting at a table with her friends, sending them a nod and an apologetic look.

That effectively ruined Evan’s mood but no one commented on it as he sulkily downed Butterbeers, looking anywhere except their table on the far wall.

They all chatted about their purchases in very vague terms and their day, Regulus leaving out the incident with Sirius and the shop and Dorcas not mentioning what she had exactly been doing with Marlene.

The rush hour began in earnest as the snow pelted down harder, coating the entire village in white snow.

They booked it back to the castle before the visibility got to zero and separated at the entrance to the castle, promising to see each other at dinner.

Regulus went back to the Ravenclaw dorms, locked his purchases in his trunk, and fell asleep right away, napping the rest of the day away to the medley of whatever song Pandora was humming to and rain pattering against the window.

_______

Surprise!

Astronomy Tower tonight, same time

I take it we won’t swim for a while yet- good for you, bad for me, I’m out of a job!

I hope you’ll still grace me with your presence

Sincerely, 

J.P.

Regulus hadn’t considered the fact that their lessons would be over for a long while and he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at the fact that James hadn’t completely ended their nightly adventures yet.

Though just because James was out of a job didn’t mean Regulus was.

He made a stop at the Library to pick out a book on Occlumency to give to James considering that’s what most teachers did- doled out textbooks and ordered them to read certain pages. He didn’t imagine telling James that he just sort of happened upon the skill would help him much.

He pushed open the door to the tower and found James looking out over the stone-walled edge.

He turned on his heel at the noise, “Reg!” He was rather chipper already.

“New location I see, how original.”

“Like it? If not we can-.”

“I like it,” Regulus assured him, settling down against the wall he was leaning on, savouring the warmth, “How do you get your warming charms so…”

“Good? I’ve been working on them ever since we started our lessons.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you have an ‘off’ button,” Regulus huffed exasperatedly, wondering how James was always such a ball of energy.

“Never, now come on, I’m ready. I’ve already started working a bit on my ‘mental walls’ and such,” he winked across from him, clearly feeling proud of the verbiage, “Show me your ways.”

“Have you now? What’s your base like?” Regulus asked, already able to see his lighthouse clearly.

“My base?” James asked, stalling his proudness and dampening his confidence.

“I mean, where do your memories go?”

James just shook his head.

So they had more work ahead of them than he thought.

As Regulus shut his eyes, he pictured herself on a small island, right on the cliffside where waves crashing against a rocky shore could be heard. As he stood on the island, he saw the remains of a lighthouse. It once stood tall and relatively impenetrable but had crumbled from disuse as it often did when he was at school; however he knew that he would be able to build it back up to a fortress before going home. 

Each brick of the lighthouse was an unwanted or hidden memory, pull one out suddenly, the whole thing may collapse but with Regulus’ reinforcements, it’ll remain standing and impervious to attack, quickly patching itself back up again.

His mother often tried to get past said reinforcements, slipping past them or full on breaking through them on her bad days but it only served to show him what he needed to work on so he’d better handle it the next time around.

“I sort of just imagined a wall,” he said sheepishly.

Regulus took a deep breath and scooted closer to James, moving so that they were eye-level, so close that he could make out the green flecks in his eyes and the little spots along his cheeks.

“A simple wall won’t do, this isn’t a garden we’re talking about but your mind. Now shut your eyes.”

He did as commanded.

“I want you to clear your mind and think of your childhood, days spent out in the garden or sitting with your mum as she drank tea, nice things,” Regulus explains in low tones and drinks in the sight of James’ smile slowly forming, dimpling his cheeks and showing just a sliver of white teeth.

“Now I want you to think of some not so nice times, falling off your broom or getting caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing, embarrassing things you’d rather not relive,” the smile slowly turned into a grimace at his words.

“You want to put those memories away, where do you put them? What does your mind naturally do?” he asked, nudging James’ mind in a certain direction.

“I have an attic at home where we put old boxes up in, that’s what I see,” he whispered.

“Follow it then, box them up and put them up on a high shelf for another time, focus on the good, not the bad,” Regulus ordered as if guiding him through a maze.

They had become closer since they started, Regulus subconsciously leaning in and James following the sound of his voice,

James suddenly opened his eyes, pupils blown wide and eyebrows high. Regulus instantly pulled away, subconsciously picking at his coat sleeve, “Good?”

“Good,” he answered, nodding to himself, “What do you see when you close your eyes?” James inquired, apparently too intrigued to comment on their closeness.

“I see a cliff on a beach, and a lighthouse at the edge of it, each memory is a brick in it,” he answered honestly. It feels too personal to give away, never even having discussed it with Sirius but it felt right considering they were in a tower right now, strong and resilient against the elements.

“Where’s it from?” he asked, likely wondering if Regulus had ever known this place in his mind considering James drew on something from his memory.

“I’m not sure. I saw it in a storybook when I was younger, I’m not sure it’s real,” he vocalized a bit dejectedly- the place that had brought him such comfort might not even exist outside of his memories.

Abruptly, James laid a hand on Regulus’ knee, warmth bursting from the spot, “I know it is.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Everything is real, if you believe in it enough,” he said in a very Pandora-like fashion, a bit dreamily and wistfully, somewhere between ‘here’ and ‘there.’

“You’re fantastical,” Regulus shook his head as he said the word.

“You should try it,” James suggested.

They remain in silence for barely a few more seconds before James continues, “Remus told me about a certain French exchange between you and Sirius?”

“Oui,” Regulus responds with an eye roll.

“He was rather annoyed he didn’t get to catch the details,” he offered.

“I’m sure whatever he imagined is close enough to the truth,” Regulus replied, considering.

“Teach me something in French,” James requests, leaning in again, the scent of jasmine and rain brushing over Regulus. He looks over past James’ shoulder and speaks,

“Clair de lune.”

“Something related to the moon?”

“Moonlight,” Regulus automatically says, suddenly breathless.

James grins and Regulus starts thinking of sunlight.

“Chandini,” he says and Regulus strains at the sound. “Moonlight in Urdu, chandini,” he repeats.

“Beautiful,” he says, because it is, looking up at the half moon floating above them.

“Yes,” James says, not breaking eye contact from Regulus.

The energy in the air shifted and their lesson was rapidly devolving into something deeper and richer and something might have happened as James' eyes dropped down to his lips that he darted his tongue out to wet had a shot of lightning not ripped through the air accompanied by a loud clap of thunder.

James' eyes widened, turning into saucers at the sound and his inner light dimmed instantly.

“We should go,” Regulus whispered.

“Stay,” was James' reply. “I can’t sleep during a storm.”

He clutched Regulus’ fingers tightly, for the first time using Regulus as his lifeline instead of the other way around.

Regulus replied with a squeeze of equal force, sitting back next to him instead of across, listening to the comforting sound of a storm brewing while James trembled like a leaf.

He cast a muffling charm around them so that the noise was lessened and leaned back against the wall, shutting his eyes softly and basking in the moment. He never thought the boy who seemed brave in the face of anything would be scared of a natural storm. He’d been able to weather Regulus’ tantrums with ease.

A light pressure on his shoulder showed James leaning on his shoulders, eyes shut and back moving in time with slow breaths.

For a moment Regulus felt paralyzed, not quite knowing what to do in this situation, he considered waking him up or shifting so that he was leaning on the wall and not him- surely his bony shoulder wasn’t a comfortable pillow. Despite his reservations, James had still fallen asleep, just as he had that night spent out by the lake.

He had read in a book once that people only fell asleep in the presence of people they trusted and felt safe with and he wondered how true that rang out for them. Surely James felt like that as he had so quickly fallen asleep but did he feel that same way? Was that initial night just a fluke? He wasn’t sure but he pushed the thought away as soon as it came.

“Goodnight,” he whispered into James’ hair, the words carried away in the winter air.

Chapter Text

“Pandora can you please shut that off!” a girl named Kaya ordered from her bed. She was arguably the rudest of the four of Pandora’s roommates and was certainly not a fan of Regulus’ presence, not because he’d done anything but because he was a Slytherin and that was typically a crime by association. 

Regulus was woken up by the sound of Pandora jumping up and running around her bed, “I don’t think that’s mine, are you sure it’s not Carrigan’s, they always buy weird gadgets after a Hogsmeade trip.”

“Carrigan left early, remember?” Milena offered helpfully, poking her head out of the bathroom door.

“What’s going on?” he asked blearily, rubbing at his eyes to force them into action. He instantly registered the source of the problem as there was a humming sound filling the room that was slowly getting louder.

Pandora opened and shut her trunk, checked under the bed, and lifted Regulus’ pillow, causing his head to hit the board just to make sure. She even tiptoed over to Carrigan’s bed as if they were still here to look around but came up blank.

Regulus got up and joined her in the search effort but really, he just followed her around, it wasn’t like the room was that big anyways.

He dropped down on his trunk to watch her and wait while the others went to the restroom to get ready for the day. In Hogwarts, whenever something weird happened, it was usually best to leave the area and let it pass.

He stepped over to prepare his bag for the day and noticed the noise was just slightly quieter by the door. He then retraced his steps backwards to his spot on the trunk and slowly turned and clicked open the latches on his trunk, lowering himself onto the floor.

The source of the noise was the plant from the store set just on top of the rest of his belongings, he may or may not have forgotten it there. Suddenly it made sense why no one had bought it in the first place and where it had gotten the name “Lover’s Song ” from.

The petals on each flower were opening and closing to the rhythm of the music while the leaves just bounced lightly up and down as though dancing along. Regulus reached down to pinch the petals on one of the flowers shut and another one just popped up right next to his finger to compensate for the loss.

“Oh my gods, that’s adorable!” Pandora cooed, rushing down to sit next to him, rubbing the leaves as though it were a pet.

“How do we get it to shut up?” Regulus asked but she just shrugged in response, humming along to the tune.

____

He dropped the plant off in the greenhouses right before Potions, giving it a pat on the pot before leaving it to the more gentle and patient hands of Sprout. He had a bit of a green thumb but only when given a list and specific instructions, and when he cared- this plant came with none of those.

“Alright class, in the spirit of the Holiday, you will be making a potion for your classmate, I have assigned you each one of my own creations that you may find in your cupboard. Mind you, these will be checked at the end of class so you must adhere to what I’ve given or else you will have a very unfortunate holiday. You may begin! ”

The general class consensus seemed to be in agreement as people excitedly opened their cupboards to find out what they’d been given. Regulus was tasked with making something called  ‘Lithe liquor.’ 

He hadn’t a clue what it was meant to do but he snuck a glance over at James who was reading his with a great smile on his face. He was giddy as he looked back up to Regulus, “This is amazing.”

“What is it?” Regulus pushed, desperate.

“You’ll see,” James smirked before getting up to retrieve his cauldron, making sure to tuck his scrap of parchment safely in his pocket, far away from his grabby hands.

He groaned and went to the ingredients cupboard.

“What’d you get?” Dorcas asked him as she entered.

“Lithe liquor? Haven’t a clue what it means, you?”

She handed the parchment to him with an evil smirk on her face as she grabbed frog eyeballs- Shrinking Solution .

Regulus couldn’t contain the guffaw that burst out of him at the idea of Sirius becoming even shorter. His height was already a very touchy subject, he couldn’t imagine how murderous his brother would be being almost an entire foot shorter than everyone else, Dorcas better have a permanent shield charm up for the rest of the day.

Marlene snuck in with them, “What’d we get? Also promises not to tell!” 

They told her what they’d gotten and she shared hers as well- Owls wake, “I think that just means he won’t have to sleep for a while.”

It sounded harmless but Regulus felt like he’d go a bit crazy if he was unable to sleep even if just for a night. Sleeping was among his top favourite things to do really.

He headed back to his table, sat, and got straight to work.

“You better not poison me Meadowes,” he heard Sirius grumble.

“And if I did?”

“Then…” he trailed off, not coming up with anything clever fast enough, so Dorcas picked up with an,

“Exactly,” she quipped.

He smiled to himself as he worked, grateful that the potion was relatively simple to make as it was just a lot of grinding, mixing, and dumping into the cauldron before waiting an extra ten minutes for it to settle. He figured it must have to do with flexibility based on the name and already knew that James would love it.

“You look far too happy over there y’know that,” Regulus snapped as James giggled at himself for what must have been the fifth time. If he didn’t know better he’d think his partner was drugged with the Laughing potion.

“It’s just so dumb,” he reasoned before coughing and shaking out his shoulders, steeling himself.

Regulus just shook his head.

He was still in a bit of a state of denial about going back home, refusing to think about it for too long and it had been going well, he’d deal with it when he got home as he didn’t necessarily know what he was walking into. His parents were unpredictable at best and sometimes that was better considering he knew their general routine before Sirius left and it wasn’t a good one.

He’d rather just enjoy his last day here, doling out gifts and eating to his heart's content at the feast tonight.

After the majority of the work on their potions had begun, everyone just began chatting and moving around the room, talking about their holiday plans.

“My family and I are going to Hawaii. I think I might get a bit of tan, Regulus want to come? You’re practically bordering on ghostly,” Marlene said good-naturedly.

“Oh Reg doesn’t tan, he burns,” Sirius butts in.

“Might I remind you of what you came back looking like last summer? James was lovely and tanned, you looked like a frosted strawberry donut,” she snapped back.

They all roared with laughter while Sirius sulked, likely having regretted butting in at all. 

“You lot are horrible,” he exclaimed before standing up and heading to the front to where Mary and Lily were working. He’d likely come back after a few minutes, more interested in ensuring he had a dramatic exit than actually wanting to stay there instead.

“You don’t miss a thing do you?” Remus laughed with a shake of the head, looking up to Sirius who was frowning back at them.

“Someone has to humble him,” she reasoned and Regulus was ready to make Marlene his new best friend for that sole purpose. Well, also because she ended up getting up and settling back in the seat Sirius had vacated, talking to Dorcas in low tones once more. It seemed she and Dorcas were still dancing around each other, not quite admitting what everyone knew to be true.

Regulus’ potion was turning bright green whereas James’ was opaque and silvery, shimmering with pinks and blues. James was slowly stirring it clockwise, head resting on a single hand, the watery light from the window above him haloing him in its weak light.

“What’s sunlight?” Regulus said slowly, leaning in just slightly to James, feeling pulled towards him.

James looked up at him through his eyebrows, his dark eyelashes blinking slowly up at him, “Sooraj ki roshni,” he smiled, his cheek dimpling. He looked breathtaking and Regulus wondered if this was his own thought or if James was brewing a love potion in his cauldron that was drawing him towards the other boy.

After James had fallen asleep on the Astronomy Tower, Regulus spent long moments staring down at him, the long lashes brushing past his high cheekbones, his strong nose with the ever present bump on the bridge, his soft pink lips, and his bronzed skin that was so soft against his fingertip as he brushed past James’ hand in an exploratory gesture.

It could have been minutes or hours but it felt all the same to Regulus who was given this chance to focus on James without others’ eyes, even James’, to stop him.

James was always so loud and present that it was sometimes hard to notice these details about him because one was so focused on taking all of him in but that night, Regulus got to piece James together slowly and intentionally.

They’d stayed there until the sky changed from black to a light grey and Regulus shook him awake, not hexing him, and they’d separated at the base of the tower with a simple, “Bye.” It wasn’t a momentous way to end the night but it was more than they had done last time so he’d count that as a success.

He and James were a work in progress, nowhere near anything perfect or synchronous, but neither of them had given up on the other just yet.

“In french?” James asked, drawing him out of the memory.

“Lumière du soliel, obviously,” he joked.

“Of course,” James smiled, rolling his eyes in an endearing gesture.

Suddenly, there was a loud booming sound and their friend, Peter, was the source as he cried out and ended up with a face full of ash. His partner, a slytherin girl named Hua, was clearly displeased as she thumped him on the back of the head.

Their table was swiftly cleaned up and they were both forced to spend the rest of class sitting next to each other in silence.

“Our boy’s more of a Herbology and Charms sort of kid,” Sirius exclaimed, having sat in Marlene’s chair now since she refused to move. He didn’t seem put out though as he instantly began chatting to Remus about something after.

Finally, Slughorn came round to check on everyone’s potions and their whole group all got nods and thumbs up and Slughorn announced, “To everyone who failed, that’s unfortunate, to those that did not , you may take your potions now and enjoy their effects for the rest of the day.”

A dramatic hush fell over the class as students downed their partner’s vial.

Avery’s nose grew a few centimetres, protruding drastically from his face and he just knew Snape was internally cheering because Regulus could already imagine those comments if he had gotten it. His was only slightly less bad as his hair turned a lovely shade of tomato red, rather similar to Evans’ if he thought about it and it’s clear she had the same thought from the appalled look on her face.

Lily’s made her a foot taller than everyone else she ended up being just taller than Remus he’d wager. Her partner, Mary, had been given a potion that forced her to tell the truth no matter what she was asked so he imagined she’d have a very quiet day.

Remus was given his with no visible reaction whereas Marlene was given something called Iron’s skin where her skin lit up for just a moment before resettling again.

James threw his quill at her with razor sharp precision and when they picked it up off the floor, the end of it had clearly bent while she felt nothing. She was overjoyed as she began pricking herself with various objects.

Sirius drank his and instantly shrunk. The entire class joined in on the laughter this time and his mouth dropped as he stared at his own arms and legs and he turned red with anger or embarrassment. It was better than expected though because he only shrank half a foot rather than the entire one like Lily. 

“This is so foul! ” he exclaimed.

Dorcas’ potion was meant to make her extremely fast so she’d have to go outside to try that particular one out.

James drank his quickly, downing it like a shot, and waited, staring at Regulus like a scared child, “What’s it supposed to do?” he asked fearfully, afraid his own skin would burst.

“Give me your arm,” he ordered, which James complied with.

He grasped and twisted his arm twice and James didn’t feel a single thing, “You’re flexible now,” he said redundantly.

“Oh my gods,” he said in awe, eyes clouding over with the hundreds of tricks he’d likely do after class.

Regulus downed his vial much like James had but when he asked for an explanation, James just said “You’ll see,” with a smirk.

How rude.

He felt something hit him behind the head and turned to see that Marlene had thrown one of her many rings right at the back of his head and he just scowled at her, not believing her shocked face.

He spent the rest of the day holding his breath, unsure if he’d spontaneously combust or turn into a pile of goop in the corridor. He’d made it to lunch still without a single idea in mind about what his potion could have been but was relieved when nothing happened, it wasn’t far-fetched to think that James brewed his incorrectly.

His relief was quickly stolen when he sat at the Slytherin table for lunch in the Great Hall.

The minute he sat down, he was assaulted by spoons, forks, and knives all flying at him with record speed. He had only a second to bring his hands up to his face before they pelted him from all directions, those around him ducking and jumping out of the way while also wanting to protect themselves.

It would seem his potion caused his skin to become magnetised.

Once the assault had ended, he had spoons attached to his ears, forks lining his arms, and knives connected to his neck. He looked like a horrific dart board. None of them had stabbed him, just jumped to him and remained connected, sticking up at odd angles.

Anytime he tried to take one off, it clung to his fingers or jumped to any other free space on his body. Along with that, half of Pandora’s rings flew from her fingers, onto him, and Dorcas’ bag clung to his hip.

He looked up at James with fury burning in his gaze but he just laughed, unable to contain himself over at his table.

“ You’re magnetic” he mouthed.

Regulus rolled his eyes and then cast a protection bubble around himself, causing all the utensils and any other magnetic material to cling to the bubble rather than his skin. He remained in said bubble for the rest of the day in classes or otherwise.

Thankfully, by dinnertime, it had rubbed off and he was free once more.

Throughout the day though, he watched James somersault and cartwheel through the halls, Marlene practically run into walls, and Sirius scurry from class to class. All in all, Hogwarts had turned into a circus show for the day and Regulus was very much enjoying the sight.

_____

James was late again but Regulus paid it no mind as he sat on the shore of the Lake. He was surrounded by a blanket of white snow but had cast such a powerful warming charm around himself that the snow within his little bubble had completely melted to reveal crunchy grass beneath him.

He hadn’t even expected James to want to meet tonight but when he pulled his bag out in Transfiguration to grab a textbook and a small piece of parchment with a clip attached to it flew out and stuck itself to his forehead, he was clearly proven wrong

He sat and watched the stars twinkling far above him in the endless streak of black sky wondering what it was like up there. He’d heard about muggles wanting to explore space and pondered whether if it was a feat they’d ever be able to accomplish, surely it was impossible but he had to admire their optimism. What did that mean for all the stories told about the stars? All the legends and lore about how they’d materialised?

James surfaced about 45 minutes later and while Regulus would normally be annoyed, bordering on leaving at this point, he found that he couldn’t bring himself to care too much about it. He was so focused on leaving tomorrow, on going back home, that he found it difficult to find enough space to be bothered about this. The last dregs of frustration melted out of him at the sight of him bounding down the hill, his bag jostling around at his side and snow kicking up behind him.

“I’m so sorry I just- I can’t believe you waited- It’s just Pete needed help packing then Alice needed to do her Charms essay and then Sirius hit himself with a jinx and Remus got mad at him and I had to stop their arguing and I lost track of time and-” he ran on and on, eventually running out of breath and Regulus put a hand up right as he was about to get back into it again.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to justify it to me,” Regulus said, assuaging James immediately who sat down with a huff, pulling off his cap and running his hand through his hair causing it to stick out in all directions before he contained them once more.

“I was watching the clock I swear, it’s just everyone kept coming up to me and- I mean I don’t know why but-” he trailed off, finishing with vague hand gestures.

“Well it’s obvious,” Regulus said simply.

James’ confused expression meant that it might not be obvious.

“You just know how to do everything and it’s not like you’d ever say no to them, which is also problematic, but you’re needed, y’know?”

“I’m not anything special,” he huffed.

“Ask anyone else in this school and I think they’d disagree,” Regulus hummed, shaking his head.

“What do you think?” he asked, voice dropping lower.

“I’d disagree with you,” he said, inadvertently solidifying his point of James being special- incredibly so.

“Well I think you’re mighty special yourself, some may even say you’re magnetic,” he teased, bumping his shoulder against Regulus’.

“About that! I have an indent in my forehead with how hard that pin hit my face,” he said, pointing a finger at James. “I would’ve seen it anyways.”

“Well you should’ve added something to protect me because while I may be bendy, I kept running into walls and other people and suits of armour and statues,” he said though his injuries were a direct result of his own actions. “Despite that though, I’ve got you a christmas present,” he grinned, pulling the strap of his bag off his shoulder in preparation to pull something out.

Regulus froze, not realising they were exchanging gifts. He didn’t even really think of James when it came to getting presents and felt as unprepared as ever at this moment. 

He didn’t even give his present to Remus directly, instead shoving them into his bag with a note tucked in the cover in the greenhouses right before they left their last shift there. Remus hadn’t mentioned it yet but he hoped he liked the books or else he’d just have to stop going to the greenhouses, change Potions classes, etc.- oh, the lengths he’d go to avoid embarrassment.

“Well, it’s a present for both of us really, don’t worry,” he reassured Regulus and he reached into his bag and pulled out a box. He tapped it with his wand and it grew to full size in his hands. It was wrapped in shiny green paper and there was a gold bow slapped on top as well.

He held it out to Regulus who grasped it and his hands dropped, the significant weight unexpected.

“What is it?” he asked, still holding the box at arm’s length.

“You’re supposed to open it to find out.”

Regulus set it down in the space between them and slowly pulled the tab on the ribbon, unravelling it, and took the time to slowly pull apart the paper that James had clearly wrapped hastily just before coming here based on the torn and bent edges that had been stuck together.

He pulled open the lid and peered in,

“Ice skates?” Regulus questioned apprehensively. He’d never even seen a pair in real life until now and he hadn’t a clue where James bought them considering he hadn’t seen any stores in Hogsmeade selling them as it wasn’t necessarily a popular activity among wizards, especially students.

James pulled out another larger pair that were identical to Regulus’ except they were black.

“I thought if we couldn’t swim, we might as well put the lake to use and skate on it,” he said in a voice so cheerful, Regulus thought the snow around them might melt just from the sheer glow emanating off of him.

“But I- I don’t even know how to skate, this is really kind of you but-” 

“Then today’s the perfect time to learn, c’mon,” he said decisively, kicking his shoes off and shoving them into the skates.

Regulus watched his own hands in horror as they pulled off his dragon hide boots and pushed into the skates. They were a bit small but instantly shifted to the size of his foot, moulding to each line and contour perfectly. He couldn’t even imagine how expensive these might’ve been.

James pushed himself off and stood on shaky legs like a newborn deer learning how to walk for the first time.

He turned to see Regulus still struggling and bent back down on one knee to shift the skates, making sure they were aligned with his foot and then went to tie the laces on each shoe. Regulus watched in admiration and shock, seeing how James tongue poked out of his lips as he tied and retied his shoes deftly.

“Good?” he asked, looking up at Regulus, his hands still encircling his right ankle.

“Mhm,” was all Regulus could manage before pushing himself up.

He tightened his cloak around himself and put the gloves that had been in his pockets back on as he stepped out of his little bubble. James was also wrapped up in a knit cap, coat, and gloves and despite his mobility being limited, he was still practically running to the lake.

“Wait! How do you know it’s solid?” Regulus called out, perhaps stalling just a bit.

“Looks pretty frozen to me,” he reasoned.

“Knowing my luck, it’s probably not,” Regulus mumbled, and he grabbed a stone lying on the shore by his foot and threw it across the lake, watching it skid across the smooth surface to come to a stop about halfway through.

He threw progressively bigger rocks until he was satisfied, James patiently watched him work through each one methodically, respecting his process.

James stepped out onto the lake first and his foot instantly gave out, sliding far in front of him while the rest of his body flew backward onto the shore behind him. He groaned before falling into a fit of laughter, “That was just practice, it doesn’t count,” he said as though this were a competition before standing again, righting his rimmed glasses on his face.

This time James was slightly steadier as he slowly slid straight out across the ice. He pushed forward in small and slow bursts, gaining his bearings, before steadily increasing his pace and distance. It wasn’t long before he skated in small circles across the surface of the lake.

“You know, I bought the skates for both of us for a reason ,” he called out to Regulus who had remained frozen on the shore.

“You want to kill me,” he shuddered.

“Oh no, you got me,” he laughed, bringing a red-gloved hand up to clutch his heart, before turning back to the scenery around them- the forbidden forest covered in a blanket of white making it look slightly less menacing, the castle glowing golden from the firelight within, and them nestled between it all.

 He skated up at full speed back to Regulus though he didn’t quite get a hang on the braking mechanism as he almost body-slammed into Regulus who held his arms out to stop James’ momentum.

“Oops,” was all he said as he steadied himself, grabbing Regulus’ arms.

He drifted his hands down Regulus’ arms, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, to clasp his hands firmly. They stayed there for a moment, holding hands, moonlight slanting across their winter-kissed features, staring at each other. Staying true to the vow they had made- no backgrounds, no outside people or thoughts, just James and Regulus.

James pushed off the shore then, bringing Regulus who was holding James’ hands hard enough to hurt, with him.

“Don’t let go,” Regulus gasped out, eyes wide with fear and exhilaration.

“Never,” James whispered, his vow gone unheard to Regulus who stared down at his feet in an effort not to fall over. He knew he looked ridiculous, knees bent and practically doubled over because the idea of standing straight was terrifying, but at least he was doing it.

James led them in a slow arc around the length of the Lake, skating backwards with ease while giving Regulus the entirety of his attention. His eyes danced across Regulus’ form- his grey eyes that glittered under the night sky, his focused features, his overly large cloak, and the white skates being the only pop of colour on him. 

A small smile formed on Regulus’ face as he became more confident on the ice, allowing himself to be led by James who had moved to his side, now only holding one of his hands and picking up speed.

James who had bought Regulus a present without expecting anything in return, who bought it just for the sake of an evening together. Their nightly trysts began as lessons where they bickered and argued but had slowly turned to races against each other and now ice skating across the frozen lake for no purpose other than to have fun.

James eventually let go of Regulus’ hand and while he missed the contact, he couldn’t help but awe at the way he spun across the icy surface of the lake in smooth arcs and figure 8’s as though he had been born to do this. Ice flew in the wake of his billowing coat and his cap fell off as he moved but he didn’t notice, instead smiling to himself with the movements, his sharp teeth poking out over his lip.

Regulus had slowed to a stop and just watched the marvel that was James.

This boy who had infuriated him and terrified him in equal measure for how much of an effect he had over Regulus.

Had anyone else asked him to ice skate or swim, he would have said no guaranteed, but the requests were so sweet from James’ lips, dripping with allure and temptation that Regulus gave into each and every time.

Snow began to fall around them, clinging to their hair and clothes but neither of them made to leave. Regulus never wanted the night to end, instead content to watch James slip across the Lake like an asp.

He eventually made it back to him, having tired himself out apparently, and brought them both back to the closest shore, a little ways away from their original starting point. The tore off the skates and put them to the side, the wool socks they both wore underneath providing enough heat in the dewy grass.

“Did you have a bit of fun at least? I just saw the skates in a catalogue and thought maybe it’d be fun for us to do-” he cut off.

“I did, I did have fun,” Regulus pushed, the words flying out of him with a note of desperation. “I’m especially glad I didn’t fall,” he smiled.

“Good,” James smiled, relieved, breathing heavily in great puffs. “I had Flitwick put stabilising charms on them and everything.”

It was a small comment, just offhand really as James continued looking at and around him but it struck Regulus. He had been preparing this present for some time, possibly even while they were arguing. He never would’ve expected something from James and here he showed up with something so thoughtful while out of the box that it blew Regulus away.

“I got you something too,” Regulus said suddenly, his hand wrapping around the object that he’d been keeping in his pocket. Perhaps subconsciously he had been waiting for this moment since he bought it.

“You don’t have to-” he immediately refused but quieted when Regulus pulled the stone out of his pocket and held it out in his gloved hand.

“Oh,” he whispered, falling silent as Regulus grasped James’ hand and pulled the warm glove off, setting it aside,

 “Think of a happy memory.”

James shut his eyes and thought and when he came up with one, he opened his eyes once more, waiting.

Regulus dropped the obsidian stone in his outstretched hand and suddenly they were enveloped in warm golden light, threaded through with grey streaks. It was a visceral feeling, as though he were enveloped in a diamond, and he watched the light dance around them in awe and James clearly felt the same as he looked all around them, his eyes reflecting the bright light until the light dimmed back into the stone.

He felt it was only right for James to have the stone, James who felt everything so strongly and could power the stone far more than Regulus ever could.

He thought about what the woman in the shop said to him about giving it to someone who could light the way for both of them and he knew, deep in his heart, that James was the only one who would do it justice.

“That was…” he trailed off breathless.

“I didn’t know if you’d like it…it’s based on your memories and emotions I suppose but…”

“It’s the best present I’ve ever received,” he swore earnestly, pinning Regulus with a glare so sharp, he felt like he was being sliced open.

He remembered that night in the bathroom when James touched him so tenderly it was as though he was scared Regulus would fall apart right under his fingertips. Regulus still felt the ghost of his touch whenever he looked in the mirror at the faint scar across his abdomen.

Ever since then, James had touched him dozens of times, grasped his wrists, bumped their shoulders, and even now, he was holding Regulus’ hands like a vice, keeping him there but he must not have realised that Regulus wouldn’t leave, now or otherwise.

“Do you remember our bet? With Marlene and Dorcas?” he suddenly asked seemingly out of nowhere though his expression was serious, as though this entire night depended on Regulus’ answer.

“Y-Yes,” he replied instantly.

“I know what I want to ask you,” his voice was so low it was barely audibly over the falling snow.

“What?” he asked, staring right back at James with equal fervour.

“Can I-?”

“Yes,” Regulus burst, knowing he’d say yes to anything right now, cutting off whatever James was saying.

Time stopped and the world seemingly held its breath as James rushed forward, sparing only a moment to wet his lips before pressing them against Regulus’.

Regulus was enveloped in the overwhelming feeling of James. The scent of Jasmine from his hair, of snow and rain from his cloak, the heat from his skin coming off of him in waves and onto Regulus. His eyes were shut, ink-coloured eyelashes fanning across his cheekbone but his lips pressed onto Regulus with the slightest of pressures, as though scared he’d disintegrate.

His hand rested on Regulus’ elbow, bracing himself, though even that touch was light.

Regulus could barely react before James pulled away, eyes wide, and Regulus could see himself reflected in his iris’.

“I’m sorry I-”

Regulus took action this time, pushing forward to press their lips more firmly together, finally making some sort of move in this dance he and James had been doing since they met.

He was tired of this ‘in-between’ stage he always wound himself in. James had been making an effort since the start, always pushing the line farther and farther without either of them even realising it.He couldn’t let the night end in an ‘in-between’ kiss either where neither of them could definitely state what had happened between them. He was desperate for something decisive in this moment where everything was upside down in his mind and tomorrow would bring forth its own barrage of problems.

His lips were warm and wet against his own, moulding to his in perfect harmony and Regulus brought a wet glove up to James’ cheek but he didn’t seem to mind as he continued kissing him. They separated for the slightest of breaths before coming together again, still uncertain but desperate to try.

They pulled away once more, faces only centimetres apart, both of them clearly shocked at what they had done.

Regulus’ mind was completely empty as he stared at this miracle boy across from him, his heart pounding as flame burst through his body at the contact, radiating out to the tips of his fingers and toes. 

Snow began to fall harder and the night didn’t feel real anymore as they both just breathed heavily, reeling from the kisses that were unexpected and not. Regulus realised that this moment had been building, the tension and meetings and experiences they shared compounded onto this climaxing point.

“Merry Christmas Reg,” he murmured.

“Merry Christmas James,” he replied, equally breathless.

_____

The train ride back to the Station was a solemn one.

Regulus sat next to Pandora with an anxious Evan and terrified Barty across from them. All merriment from the past few days had been sucked away, even last night had been nothing more than a delicate sheet of gossamer that had already drifted out of reach.

None of them wanted to go home.

Pandora had practically bitten her nails to nubs and bit her lips until they bled at the thought of seeing her brothers again. She was so unlike them that it was a wonder how she had been born into that family and still turned out the way she did.

Barty was terrified to face his father who hated him for reasons beyond any of their understanding. His mother was an entirely other problem for her mental state was so fragile and fraught that it would be a miracle if she even remembered his name.

Evan was just terrified for the three of them.

There was a single solitary elf, Brimsy, at the platform waiting for him. He perked up slightly when he spotted Regulus but made no move beyond that twitch of recognition. He was still rather young, only having come into their service when he was still young but he’d been trained by their parents before he got a chance to even learn their names.

Regulus’ eyes flitted around the platform, watching students run to their parents to greet them or saying goodbyes to their friends and promising to exchange letters after the holiday.

Pandora was picked up by her brothers who leered at the younger girls while Barty was greeted by his father with a terse nod, his hands already clenched with the promise of a dark arrival.

A few feet away was James and Sirius, running over to a couple. A woman, his mum, hugged James strongly, her dark hair falling free from the tie it had been held up with and James embraced her with equal fervour, his glasses squishing against his face. The man with her, his father, smiled as he shook Sirius’ hand and put his hand on his shoulder, squeezing it warmly. He looked just like James, only older and stronger- a peek at the man James would turn into.

His parents then switched and nothing about their treatment of Sirius and James differed, it was as if Sirius was a part of their family since the start, his early life just a bump in the road in their journey as a family.

They both turned as one to him, Sirius’ brows knitting together and lips thinning to a line as he stared at Regulus. The few yards that separated them felt like miles and years, an unthinkable distance for the two of them. He said something to James who just shook his head slightly, his jaw clenching before releasing. James fingers’ twitched while Regulus’ trembled, the only give he’d had to show he was scared. 

The brief interaction was stolen from him as the elf gripped his sleeve and he felt a pull behind his navel, whisking him away.

The house was dark and silent as it usually was and the elf beside him just grabbed his trunk and disappeared without preamble. His shoes clicked against the floor as he stepped out of the receiving area and into the main body of the house. There wasn’t a single decoration or light to indicate that they were in the midst of a holiday season, the house as unchanged and ancient as ever. 

The air was oppressive and Regulus felt as though there were eyes watching him though the house was so silent, he figured no one was home at the moment. 

He just climbed the stairs to his room, passing by Sirius’ room that had been bolted shut, and sat on the edge of his bed, staring up at the blank grey walls and out the barred windows wondering how he was going to make it until next year.

Chapter Text

His parents had arrived a few short hours after he did, the only thing signifying their entrance was the sound of the floo roaring to life before dying down and giving way to the clicking of their shoes as they crossed the floor and went up the stairs, and the door to their room one floor above him swinging open before shutting. He hadn’t expected they would go to his room and was right as per usual.

He had the noise their shoes made memorised, the exact pace and sound it made so he knew who was walking and where they were going. The dull thudding sound above him was his father and Regulus was able to track his movements all the way to his Study down the hall and as if on cue, that door also opened and closed, the latch clicking. He was hyper aware of their presence, a constant itch he was unable to scratch.

He’d been sitting on the edge of his bed, still in his school robes, just staring at the floorboards beneath him, the sound of a light knocking noise at his door was the only thing that knocked him out of his reverie and rooted him in the present.

“Master Regulus, dinner is being ready,” the elf squeaked through the door.

He just nodded despite the fact that the elf couldn’t see him and stood, heading to his closet stock full of near-identical sets of black robes, all character and colourless. Barely anything in his room signified that this place was his, even if he wasn’t here it would make no difference at all.

His footsteps were silent as he got ready, an innate trait he held. He found that being quiet, allowing his parents to forget he was even here, tended to be the best way to survive.

The walk down to the dining room was an uncomfortable one, walking past portraits of long-dead ancestors who whispered to each other or stared at him, their beady painted eyes burning a hole in the back of his head. He never spoke to them, found their conversation dull or odd and left him with a distinct sense of unease as they talked about a world that doesn’t exist anymore. He focused on the few nature scenes they had instead, the trees swaying in a rhythmic loop or ocean waves lapping against an unknown shore.

He liked to imagine he was there, just like he did with the lighthouse in his mind.

The corridors were long, seemingly endless in the house that appeared so small from the outside. He remembered running up and down these halls with Sirius as they came up with games to stave off the boredom that often crept up on them within these walls. Now he watched his leather shoes move against the small carpet lining the centre of the corridor, guiding him towards his parents he wished he was more excited to see.

The dining room was as dark as the rest of the house, the walls a dim grey except for one that had been painted over with cream coloured vines. The sconces that lined the wall glowed softly to illuminate the dark table that spanned the entirety of the long room, meant to fit almost twenty people despite the fact that only three of them lived here.

They didn’t often eat dinner together but they did on occasions that it ‘felt’ like they should, his parents holding onto this contorted illusion of them being a family. Their kid, used to be plural, was back from school- this should be cause for celebration and ‘family time’, and yet it was far from either and he wanted nothing less than to sit through an evening with his mother and father.

He wondered whether Sirius would be a topic tonight and he had to clench his hands to keep them from shaking because he didn’t know how to broach the subject if it came up.

He silently took his seat at the table across from his mother, keeping his head bowed in deference as they waited for Orion, who arrived a moment later.

“Regulus,” his only word of greeting to which Regulus replied, “Father.”

He turned the corners of his lips up slightly and his father seemed appeased, nodding once before turning to the drink that appeared in front of him. He looked as he always did, if not a bit older, the lines in his aged face deeper than usual, his eyes more tired than they should be.

It sent a pang of worry his way as he watched him take sips of the amber liquid he so desperately couldn’t live without.

His mother was staring at him from over her glass, the red wine within sloshing as she took a large sip before setting it down harshly. Her pointed black nails remained on the stem, tapping the glass. The dark makeup around her eyes was smudged but her hair was pulled back tightly in the bun she always wore- he wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her with it down.

She didn’t say a word to him and it felt like she was testing him as she scanned him, up and down, likely making a laundry list of all his imperfections. He didn’t say anything, knowing that anything he said could possibly set her off, her temper unpredictable at best.

The food appeared in front of them with a whispered pop and the first course was chestnut soup, his favourite. He held no doubt that Kreacher had chosen this dish for him and it warmed his chilled core slightly. It was also incredibly in line with the holiday season though a look at the house would reveal it was anything but. There was nothing to signify the turn of the season or the upcoming holidays.

Unfortunately, his mother was not a fan of the dish- just like Herbology, Regulus wondered if he only liked it because she didn’t or if he genuinely enjoyed it innately. It was hard to tell who he was and what was just an extension of his parents.

He had tried to work on separating himself from them, establishing his own personality as Sirius did, but he was incredibly weak, giving in to what he knew instead of challenging himself and pushing past the mental walls in his mind that had been erected by his mum.

Nonetheless, he grabbed the appropriate spoon and began eating, just as his parents did. 

The room remained completely silent.

He was so used to Sirius’ attitude and anger filling the room that he had forgotten what it was like to eat a silent meal with them.

“Are you enjoying the soup?” his mother asked, staring at him with her sharp eyes.

“It’s acceptable,” he answered, looking up at her, trying to decipher the double meaning all of her words tended to have.

“Mm,” she hummed, nodding slowly, “You’ve gained weight since being at school,” she commented, her spoon hitting the rim of the low bowl the soup had been served in.

It would seem his mother wouldn’t even have the decency to wait until the main course was served before making barbed comments. He didn’t respond, instead just put the spoon down next to the plate, his appetite instantly disappearing at her words.

It was true that he often indulged himself at school though it came from an odd place of food insecurity. When you go so often without food, the presence of an abundance in front of you often lowers inhibitions and forces you to want to eat your fill lest it be taken away from you.

He knew some people lived like that, didn’t always have reliable access to food and though no one would think he was like them, he was. His mother withholding food from him often whether through force or through comments like this that brought on waves of insecurity and inadequacy that he never wanted to eat again.

He felt hyper aware of his body, the space he took up in the chair he sat in and wanted to make himself smaller- so much so that he would just disappear if just to please for a moment.

“How was last term?” his father asked around a mouthful of the soup.

Regulus looked up at him, “It went well father, I’ve received top marks in all of my classes.”

“That’s the bare minimum,” his mother commented, ensuring he never felt too proud of his accomplishments.

“Of course,” was all he could say, looking down and smoothing the crisp white napkin that sat across his lap.

The main course arrived in the form of beef bourguignon, a hearty beef stew whos’ fragrance immediately filled the small space. Regulus’ mouth watered but he withheld, only taking the smallest portion for appearance’s sake.

“Your hair is too long, we’ll cut it tomorrow.”

Another nod.

And that was all that was said for the rest of the evening while his father ate, his mother drank, and he focused all of his energy on not throwing up at the table from stress. He supposed that maybe this was a good sign- that they all just felt apathy. 

Sirius wasn’t mentioned even once, it was like he hadn’t existed at all.

Maybe the Sirius he knew didn’t.

_____

The following days were spent on his own and he alternated between very few spaces- his room, the library, and their small garden. 

One night though, something came over him as he lay writhing in bed unable to fall asleep.

He grabbed his wand that he kept stored under his pillow and crawled out of bed, the cool air in his room instantly biting through his thin night shirt. He stuffed his feet in slippers to cushion his footsteps and pulled his door open slowly before crossing the small space to Sirius’ room.

The room had been warded by Walburga to refuse entry to anyone but he worked through them easily. Her magic was often brash and forceful, good for some aspects of magic, but pitiful in areas like wards that required precision. He broke through the threads of her magic easily and just like that, there was nothing blocking his entry besides his own fear.

He was almost too scared to open the door, as though his brother was still inside and would yell at him for entering without knocking first- a habit he picked up in his later years as he grew up and distanced himself from him.

He pushed the wooden door open slowly, the small plaque with his name on it gleaming in the moonlight, and stepped in, shutting it behind him with the faintest click.

It was as it always looked- his posters stuck on the wall with some impenetrable sticking charm, his Gryffindor regalia strewn up everywhere as a big ‘fuck you' to Walburga, his clothes and shoes left all around the room as if the armoire wasn’t there at all. His desk still had unfinished assignments on it, half-written Potions essays and a case study about some plant in Herbology. He likely had to redo all of them at the Potters’, his work gone wasted here.

The room was so…ordinary. He hadn’t been in here in some time but he had expected that his mother would have scrubbed the room clean, erased any evidence of Sirius’ existence but it was all here.

 It might have been less painful if she had done so instead of leaving this twisted shrine up in memoriam to him.

He walked around to the bookshelf that held just about everything except books. He had snitch figurines, random scattered trinkets that sat lifeless on his shelf, and random objects he had gone through phases of collecting- pins, buttons, coins, anything small and easily accessible really.

He pocketed one from each jar, unable to explain the compulsive need to do so that rose within him.

The thought reminded Regulus of something and he crossed the room to the other side of the bed and crouched down, his knobby knees pushing against the floor painfully, as he counted three floorboards away from the foot of the bed, his long arm breaching the distance easier than when he was younger.

He pulled the floorboard up and reached in, pulling out the small box they had stored in there and placed it on the floor in front of him. It was beautiful with engravings and inscriptions crawling all around the box decoratively. He wasn’t sure where it came from, only knowing that Sirius found it in the attic and decided that it would be perfect to hide things in.

What they had used that space for changed over the years- it started out as a place to store sweets or food in cases of emergency but slowly turned into something they deemed ‘risque.’ 

He unlocked the box, remembering the code easily- 9012. He couldn’t remember why they had chosen the numbers but he entered the code and sighed in relief when it worked, almost worried that Sirius might have changed it at some point.

The clasp opened and he lifted the lid to reveal a mountain of unfamiliar objects. He had used this less over the years while Sirius must have compiled more and more ‘risque’ things that Walburga would snatch right away if she found.

He found letters exchanged between him and his friends that he didn’t care to read, photographs of all of them at Hogwarts, tickets to some musical show in London, nail polish and eyeliner, and other random objects.

He sifted through it all, digging his hand deeper through as though burrowing through Sirius’ life and at the bottom of all that he came across a thick bundle wrapped around with a leather band that he had to haul out disturbing everything else there.

It was a stack of postcards from their Uncle Alphard, the one on top the first one he’d ever sent from ‘St. Barts.’ He untied the strap and flicked through them, travelling the world through the printed images on each card their uncle had carefully chosen for them. A quick glance of the words on the other side showed his familiar looping handwriting and he turned away, unable to quell the squeezing of his heart at the sight.

He breathed deeply though his nose, the echo of his uncle louder than usual tonight, and in a moment of probable madness, he tied the strap back on and kept it out of the box that he clasped shut and slid under the floor again.

He heard the sound of a door either opening or shutting somewhere above him and he raced back to his room on silent feet, shutting the door behind him and pulling the bed covers up and over his head, keeping as still as possible.

It would seem old habits die hard.

____

Christmas dinner was held by his aunt Druella and Uncle Cygnus which he thought was odd but the reasoning for such was slowly becoming clear when he saw the Lestranges and the Malfoys had joined them tonight as well.

They were to celebrate Narcissa’s and Bellatrix’s betrothals.

They were greeted at the floo by his relatives to which he had virtually no relationship to and then quickly ushered into a dark medium-sized drawing room. 

His aunt had sharp features, barely looking anything like her Rosier nephew who he knew so well and could never look as cruel as she did even if he tried. Her hair was an ashy blond and her blue eyes held no warmth at all, likely hardened by time and her environment. His uncle was a pure Black in the sense of his dark near-black hair, his hawk-like grey eyes, and the shock of white hair that sprouted at the forefront of his head, a placement he was rather grateful he didn’t have.

He greeted them coldly, no more relatives than they could have been business partners and moved on and away from the adults that forced him to be here.

Bellatrix stood in one of the corners speaking harshly to Narcissa, her dark and curly hair already flying free from the small ties and clips she had put in as she gestured harshly with her hand and spoke through tight lips. Narcissa was just listening silently, nodding to whatever she said, her hair pin-straight and sleek in contrast.

Her hair was an odd mix of both black and blonde chunks, the same bright near-white shade of Lucius’ who was off talking to the Lestrange brothers. She had the same white streak they all did but she seemed to have taken after the Malfoy’s and dyed more of her hair that colour. It didn’t look quite right- too harsh a look for her.

Malfoy didn’t have the same problem as his blond hair fell in a smooth mask down his back, tied back by a simple black ribbon. It was a quintessential Pureblood look and could tell Malfoy took pride in it with how carefully it was styled, not a single hair out of place. He wouldn’t be surprised if he had an elf to come in and set it for him every morning as he sat in a velvet robe like he was a sultan.

He looked away and over to the source of the horrendous music playing out of a gramophone by the far wall. It was some odd mix of classical and Christmas music that gave him a headache rather than put him at ease.

He entered further into the room illuminated by small fairies that had been trapped in frosted jars strung up on the walls. They gave off a light golden glow and he wondered if the guests realised that the only reason they gave off such light was because they were trying to escape and the mix of stress and heat caused them to glow. He was certain that by the end of dinner, many of the jars would be dark.

Aiming for the small green chaise by the fireplace, he spotted Pandora with a sigh of relief and directed towards her, allowing his mask to slip for just a moment.

Being back at home was clearly taking a toll on her. She was wrapped up in a pair of heavy robes, the dark blue colour doing nothing but accentuating the visible blue veins under her translucent skin and making her appear paler than she was. Her hair was wrapped up atop her head instead of flowing down her back in ringlets and her makeup was simple and flat, ageing her rather than accentuating her unique features.

She brightened up slightly when she saw him, a hint of the girl he knew.

“Regulus,” she smiled, standing up to hug him.

“Dora,” he whispered back in her ear.

“I was getting scared you wouldn’t be coming- oh no what’s happened here?” she asked, looking up at his hair.

“We already knew this would happen,” he grumbled, sitting back down next to her.

His mother made true on her promise to cut his hair, shearing it much shorter than he would have liked. None of the curls that had been beginning to form around the bottom were visible, his hair too short for even that, only the top retained some length but he was forced to slick it back anyways.

“My head hurts so much I think cutting it off would be a relief,” she grumbled, poking at her bun.

“I wouldn’t say that here if I were you…” he trailed off, sharing a look with her. “Never know who might actually take you up on that offer.”

He wasn’t stupid. Despite the comments received over the years.

He knew the whispers that floated around the upper years, knew that his parents weren’t on the straight and narrow nor were their friends model citizens in Wizarding Society, and knew that there was a man who seemed to have a vision for how the world should work.

He encouraged the dark arts, uplifted Purebloods while depreciating Muggles, and wanted to claim those in the upper echelons of society to his cause.

It was clear that his parents were clear followers to the cause, it had been a point of contention in their house for years, starting from comments about muggles and muggle-borns and their allowance into Hogwarts all the way to the use of Unforgivables in the home as regular forms of punishment. Their discussion about ‘officially’ joining Voldemort’s ranks had been just one of the many reasons Sirius left in the first place.

He wondered if Voldemort was already picking off the younger students who had already graduated and were eager to find their place in the world that laid itself at their noble feet.

“Black,” Rodolphus grinned, spreading his arms wide as though greeting an old friend. His hair was a chestnut brown and his eyes were a deep blue, often looking through you rather than at you. He was just slightly taller than he was but more filled out as his tailored black robes hung thickly around him. His brother looked almost exactly like him as though they suffered the same affliction he and Sirius did.

“Lestrange,” he replied evenly, remaining seated.

“Ah,” he tutted with a single finger, “See it’s easier if I call you Black seeing as there’s only one of you now, me and my brother though remain quite close so I’m afraid you should still differentiate between us, just to be clear of course.”

The not-so subtle jab did not go missed by Regulus but he didn’t rise up to the challenge. 

“Perhaps it’s better if we don't speak then.”

“That’s no way to speak to your cousin-in-law is it?” he cooed, already cozying up to his family members and using a title that didn’t quite seem real.

He’d warn him about joining their family if he thought he, or Malfoy, were worth it.

“Sit up straight,” he jabbed Pandora with a hand but she just slapped his hand away and shot him a dirty look in return.

She was slightly closer to Rabastan but even that was a stretch. He was closer to her when they were younger and when they grew up they simply spent less time together which in turn gave them no chance at animosity whereas Rodolphus forced himself into Pandora’s life just to criticise her at every turn.

He was especially vocal when she voiced her commitment to Xenophilius in the face of the various relationships Lestrange Sr. and Rodolphus were setting up for her upon her graduation from Hogwarts. They had more of a problem with him than child marriages apparently but they relented just for the fact that he was a Pureblood and that she would at least be his problem and not theirs.

He wished they would see her the way he did but even her light cannot breach the world of darkness they had swamped themselves in.

A small elf popped into existence and whispered something to his aunt who notified everyone that dinner was served and they were moved on to the dining room like a herd of cattle led to the troughs.

Regulus found his place at the long table between Pandora and his mum. It would seem he was stuck between a witch and a fairy- lovely, and he smiled at the dichotomy of the two.

The first item set in front of them were odd little things- cherry tomatoes stuffed with cheese and indiscernible herbs. He was missing the meals at Hogwarts more and more with each slice of the tomato because Merlin forbid he eat the whole thing in one bite. He tried slicing into the small tomato and it was so hard that it popped out from under his knife and went straight into Pandora’s plate who grinned and scooped it up.

The men at the head of the table had swiftly dived into talks of politics and the Ministry, things he’d rather stay ignorant about until,

“Regulus, it may do you well to start paying attention, once you graduate you’ll have to take your seat in the Wizengamot,” Lucius commented, looking down his pointed nose at him. 

Narcissa just sent him an apologetic look, her light features downturned and unhappy. It would seem her earlier infatuation with Malfoy was slowly hardening into something akin to meek acceptance.

He wished he had a chance to speak to his cousin but he doubted he’d get a chance tonight. It felt like it wasn’t so long ago that she graduated Hogwarts but time had gone on without him and here she was, getting ready to become Lady Malfoy. The silver ring on her finger gleamed and seemed far too heavy for her delicate fingers that were so skilled at playing the piano and painting.

He was already annoyed with Rodolphus’ earlier comments and Malfoy’s additions were unwelcome. He was rather tired of hearing what he ‘ought’ to do by others who had no stake in his life.

“Yes, well I have some time until then,” he said, taking a sip of water to clear the sour taste in his mouth at the turn in conversation.

“Ah, I remember feeling like I had all the time in the world while at that school, it comes at you faster than you think and with all the changes being made, you may get a chance at a ‘jumpstart’” he said with a mischievous tone, the others at the table smiling slyly to each other.

Regulus caught the words between the lines, though Malfoy didn’t make a good attempt at hiding his meaning at the slightest. His eyes darted down his covered forearm and he wondered if Lucius had received the ‘mark.’ He’d never seen it firsthand but he’d heard it mentioned once or twice in passing on conversations he most definitely was not supposed to be listening in on.

He automatically stiffened at the way Malfoy sat back in his chair, glass lazily held aloft in his hand, his other hand tapping on the arm of Narcissa’s chair. He disgusted him.

A light touch on his knee was Pandora’s sign of silent support and he was forever reminded of the debt of gratitude he owed her.

The meal was replaced with salmon and vegetables, bland and tasteless and utterly unbearable to eat. He felt like he was eating sludge with each forkful and took progressively larger sips of water to compensate and push the food down his oesophagus. Pandora didn’t even try to hide her distaste as she slowly pushed the plate away from her, unable to handle the odour that permeated the air.

A small elf was going around, refilling glasses of wine to guests who didn’t even acknowledge its existence when Rabastan tipped his chair back, knocking into the elf that was just passing him and causing it to drop the bottle of wine it had been so carefully holding.

The glass shattered and the noise reverberated in the now deathly quiet room. Blood red wine had splattered from the floor onto Bellatrix and Druella making them look like they had just come back from a murder scene.

Regulus felt his heart stop in that moment, fear seeping into him and Pandora’s hand clenched around his knee, signifying he was not alone in this fear. He put a trembling hand atop hers and waited to see just how they’d react.

Druella and Bellatrix wore matching faces of fury, their dark eyebrows pulling down over their hooded eyes and lips thinning and turning down. Everyone else had various expressions of shock to indignation to pleasure- specifically from Rabastan and Malfoy who were likely excited to have a little entertainment with their dinner.

The small elf’s eyes bulged from its head and immediately dropped to the floor to pick up the fragments of glass, apologising profusely through a tight throat as big tears mingled with the crimson liquid on the floor as it tried to clear the mess.

Bellatrix stood up slowly, her wand slipping out of her black sleeve with the movement and pushed her chair back and away, closing in on the elf that barely reached up to her hip.

“You idiotic miscreant,” she seethed, “you can’t even do one thing right! ” she shrieked the last word.

The elf shook its head to itself, crying harder now, “Mippy will be cleaning this mess right away, Mippy can clean mistress’ fine dress too she can!” the elf pleaded.

“Perhaps you need a reminder on how to do your job ” Bellatrix murmured, aiming her wand at the elf and instantly casting, a jet of bright red light escaping her wand and hitting the elf with a jolt.

The elf contorted in pain, its small body doubling over and falling into the glass around it, cutting deep into its’ thick skin. Its’ cries were pained and high-pitched and it hurt Regulus’ ears just to listen. The others hummed in approval, goading his demented cousin on without giving a thought to the elf meant to suffer from an incident that wasn’t even his fault.

She held whatever hex that was for a long time, keeping the wand pointed at the elf and laughing with Rodolphus about it. Rabastan took no responsibility for it, instead just watched impassively, scrunching his nose as though the elf’s shrieks of pain were a mere inconvenience he’d rather tune out.

Regulus couldn’t stand it, he thought about what it would be like if Kreacher or even bloody Brimsey, was under that wand and moved without even thinking, pulling his wand out of the inner pocket of his robes. 

He moved his arm slowly, casting a furtive glance around to ensure no one was looking before pointing it just at the elf from under the table. He aimed a wordless Numbing spell at the elf, ensuring he kept his face and body language neutral.

Pandora spotted him and shifted closer to provide an extra layer of cover for him.

Its’ relief was immediate as it slumped over and breathed heavily, gulping down large breaths of air. He had done it right when Bellatrix shifted her arm so she wouldn’t catch on to his interference.

“Mippy can be cleaning the mess now,” it breathed, immediately getting back on its knees, “Mippy will hurt herself she promises!”

Regulus dropped the spell and while the elf winced slightly, it continued working. 

The next bit was quite possibly the worst part of the evening.

Mippy reached out a hand towards Druella, wanting to clean the mess the wine had made on the bottom part of her robes, the red liquid seeping into the blue fabric there and while his aunt didn’t move in response, Bellatrix tracked the movement, like a predator stalking its’ prey, and raised her wand again.

Her and Regulus cast at the same time- Bellatrix sent a severing curse its’ way while Regulus sent the numbing one again, the urgency and strength with which he cast caused a barely visible shimmering light to shoot from his direction but he didn’t care as he infused as much of himself into it as he could.

While the elf might not have felt anything under the strain with which Regulus cast, she remained horrified at the sight of her severed hand barely hanging on to her arm, and she cried out in horror before immediately shutting up, biting her own lip, continuing to clean dutifully.

Pandora let out a squeak of panic at the sight while Narcissa gazed at the sight with dread, her hand clenching slightly around her fork.

“Oh get that thing out of here before it creates an even bigger mess,” Cygnus waved a hand, barely even looking at the scene.

The elf, having received the message, vanished the mess, cradled its hand, and popped away without another word.

There was a collective sigh from the members at the table before they returned back to their meal as if Bellatrix had not just maimed another creature. 

It was moments like this that shined a light on these people he called family. 

Sirius often called him deluded for having faith in them, for wanting to have a family despite all their shortcomings but growing up they both thought this was normal. It was only until Sirius had experience with another family that his mind changed and grew to know that all families weren’t like theirs.

Regulus kept a blindfold on when it came to his family, always wanting to believe that maybe they were okay, but tonight was just a reminder that these people were truly heartless, or rather, soulless for they were still alive but what was life worth if they spent it relishing and thriving on the cruelty of others. 

That elf may have died or maybe it’d survive, he doubted anyone at the table would care to find out.

“Say Rodolphus, I think we should start a wall of house elves just like my aunt has, it would make fine decoration,” she grinned, laughing while sharing a look with his mother, the perfect daughter-in-law for a cruel mistress.

Regulus only frowned, reviling anytime he walked past that wall. The straight faced, close-eyed elves with jagged cuts around their necks were a stark contrast to the smiling, cheery elves that worked in the Kitchens at Hogwarts, their only concern making sure that they made enough treacle tarts for all the students in the Hall.

The main meal was replaced with desert, a puff pastry with an unknown filling within and he just took the designated fork next to his plate and mechanically took bites, barely even tasting the fruity filling within.

He hadn’t taken more than two bites when he felt a distinct pressure against his leg that slowly increased. He looked down and saw that his mother was digging her barbed fingers into his leg in warning to not continue to eat, an extension of her earlier comment on their initial dinner together.

He put his utensils down, took a large sip of water, and blocked his mind off from everything happening around them. 

He was no more than a body filling a seat at the table.

_____

The minute they landed back in Grimmauld, Walburga turned on Regulus with pure, unadulterated fury in her eyes, her pupils so wide they consumed all the colour within them, making them look like two black holes in her stark face.

He barely made it a step out before she lunged, gripping his face by the chin with a single hand, the sharpened talons at the ends of her fingers digging hard enough into his tender skin to bleed.

He only had a moment to catch his breath before all the oxygen was sucked out of the room by his mother who invaded his space, her lined face coming in close to his so that he could see every mark on her face in harsh detail.

He could almost mistake her firm hold on him as an embrace, her overwhelming presence suffocating.

“Walburga,” his father sighed at the entrance of the room, about to leave.

“Get out,” she hissed and while he looked like he might say more, he just walked out, failing him just as he always did.

“Mum,” he gasped out.

“Do you take me for a fool Regulus?” she bit, the words hitting him like a fizzling blow.

“O-Of course not,” he immediately defended, hating the fear that burst through him just as it did when he was a child. 

No matter how much he grew up, how many years passed, in the face of his mother he felt like a small child except now the one defence he had was gone, safe in the hands of others.

“You think I didn’t see what you did there,” she raised her wand to his throat, digging into the flesh there painfully.

“I didn’t do any-”

“Don’t lie ” she shrieked, her shrill voice threatening to burst his eardrums.

“I’m sorry I-” he didn’t know what to say to get him out of this mess. 

“I’m your mother, you think I wouldn’t know when you used your magic? I know everything about you,” she threatened, “You are nothing on your own.”

He nodded submissively while she pushed forward, his back hitting the mantle above the hearth with a harsh thud. His hands remained limp at his sides while he cringed away from her wand and grip but it was futile, there was no escape. Her breath hit him in hot puffs and he cringed away from the heady scent of alcohol.

“You are weak, always have been, did I raise you like this Regulus? Never did I think you would turn out to be such a disappointment,” she said, her brows knitting together in a mocking gesture, her fingers curling in impossibly more. He finally felt her index finger give and warm blood leaked from the wound.

He shook his head vehemently, heat creeping up his neck and burning his skin, “No you didn’t, I just-”

“Yes,” she agreed, eyes blown wide, enhancing her mania, “You are the problem.”

She dragged her fingers down before letting his face go and he knew she had left her mark in the slow increase of blood dripping from his face onto the floor beneath him.

The room was silent for a moment more as they stared at each other and her pupils shrunk into pinpoints in an instant and he felt his stomach bottom out in fear.

“You need to be disciplined,” she said, voice even now, cold as shards of ice that embedded itself in his skin.

“No,” he whispered, “Mum please,” the ghosts of years worth of pain laced itself around him and snaked up and down his body before squeezing harshly. 

“It’s for your own good,” she nodded though it more to herself than anything else.

She stepped back instantly, her black robes swishing around her for a moment before stopping. Her wand was jagged and oddly shaped, bent at the middle while the handle was covered in whorled marks. It was black as midnight and cast with the same unforgiving force.

He hadn’t even heard what she said as overwhelming pain took over him. Every nerve ending in his body fired and he felt the very bones in his body vibrate from the force. His skin felt like it was being flayed off of him and he cried out in pain as he fell to his knees, the pain of that not even comparing to the full body tremors that gripped him.

He heard the distant hum emit from her direction and knew she was electrocuting him as blue light twisted up and around him, coiling like a snake killing its prey.

She let it go and he sagged, still kneeling on the floor in front of her.

“You’re weak. Our heir will not be weak,” she promised. There was only one spell she knew to ‘strengthen’ others.

“Crucio! ”

Nothing compared to the agonizing torture that flooded his veins, the agony he felt as his joints ripped apart and tendons snapped before mending again. He fell fully to the floor now, arms and legs flailing, rejecting the instinctive need to curl into a foetal position. His body was so tense that every muscle from his face to his feet hurt in an all-encompassing pain.

Tears leaked from his eyes and nonsensical sounds escaped his mouth, a mix between pleas to stop and “mum please” and moans mingled together in a horrific symphony all too familiar in this house.

She didn’t let it go, holding him under her wand for so long that he couldn’t be sure whether minutes or hours passed, all he knew was pain.

After she let it go, she stepped closer to him, the heel from her shoe digging into his hand that was still splayed out against the cold wooden floor, “You will be better.”

A threat and a promise.

He remained frozen on the floor until she left the room, walked up the stairs, and made it to her room, slamming the door shut behind her in punctuation. The sound triggered something in him and tears sprang from his eyes as he curled up on the floor, making himself as small as possible in the dark receiving room. 

Everything hurt as he cried and cried, no one around to see him completely fall apart.

He could take pain, but it was different when it came from his mother, it was more personal. The pain wasn’t sharp like when he was attacked by Snape or Mulciber but it felt like a throbbing wound that Walburga pushed into with every targeted word and spell.

She knew exactly how to hurt him and was not afraid in the slightest to attack, sensing out his every weakness and using it to her advantage.

“Master Regulus,” he heard a whisper croak from next to him and he opened his eyes and straightened his neck slightly to see Kreacher. He wrapped a cold rubbery hand around his own and apparated them both into his room.

He led him to his bed, took his shoes off, and pulled the covers over him in a soothing gesture as though he was a small child and he didn’t have any energy left to protest.

He popped away, leaving him all alone in his room, the moonlight slanting in through the bars in front of the windows casting stark shadows around the room.

As he lay, empty of all emotion and feeling, having cried himself out, a thought floated to the forefront of his mind, uncharacteristically light and golden- a sharp contrast to his mind that was slowly descending into a pit of darkness the longer he spent at Grimmauld.

He thought about James.

Memories of them standing in front of each other in the Lake, the water lapping at their legs while they grasped each other, the heat of their skin hot enough to burn. The time James fell asleep in the Astronomy tower, allowing Regulus unfiltered access to him, to study him in excruciating detail. To their most recent memory together, ice-skating across the Lake- a memory so pure he wondered if he had imagined it.

Their kiss.

He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it until now for fear of who he was around but he held onto that memory like a lifeline. It was a moment in which there was nothing and no one else but the two of them in which he took charge of his own life and choices and did what he wanted just for the hell of it.

He didn’t know James’ thoughts on it and likely never would but he wouldn’t lie to himself and pretend he hadn’t enjoyed it and even if he lost James because of his slip in judgement. It was worth it and that he would have done it again, consequences be damned.

He fell asleep with thoughts of the moon and the boy who shined like the Sun, sooraj ki roshni.

_____

“Mum, you’ve outdone yourself,” he commended, the mashed potatoes melting in his mouth, his body begging for another spoonful.

“Well I couldn’t have done it without my helpful assistant,” she smiled, looking towards Sirius and sending him a look full of love and care.

Sirius shrunk under her gaze but the pink that dappled on the apples on his cheeks showed his appreciation. He was still unable to take compliments from his parents without melting into a puddle on the floor.

His mood had been a rollercoaster for the past couple days and James was doing his best to keep up with his rapid change in disposition. He could start the day off happy, spend the majority of the day angry and sulking about something he chose not to talk about, then end the day either in a mess of tears or laughing about something inane that lifted him up again.

This was his first Christmas away from his family but he knew that wasn’t what affected him- it was his first holiday without Regulus and while Sirius would never admit that he missed him, he knew the truth for what it was. It hurt that he could do nothing to help but support and reassure him that he was always here to listen.

It didn’t help that he missed Regulus too, as insane as it sounded even to his own ears.

He had been unable to stop thinking about their kiss since it happened. It was his last thought every night and first thought every morning and the words threatened to burst out of his throat anytime he was in someone else’s presence.

The memory felt so far away he felt like if he didn’t voice them to someone then there was no proof it happened at all. He might’ve thought that had the imprint of Regulus’ lips not been burned into his own, the curve of his sharp cupid bow or his full bottom lip moving against his own. The ghost of him danced along his skin in a gesture that had him begging for more.

“James?” his dad asked, coming into view.

“Oh yeah, what? Sorry,” he apologised, getting back to work on his plate.

“No trust me, you don’t want to listen to this,” Sirius groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“What? No harm in a father asking his sons about their love lives,” he wagged his eyebrows while his mum giggled a little but still paid full attention to the conversation, likely wanting to find something out as well.

“There is when it’s embarrassing,” he replied, his voice muffled by his hands as he looked out between the gaps of his fingers.

“Well James has been focused on Lily since first year so he’s no fun so I have to ask you,” he laughed.

“Actually,” he interjected, “I think I’ve let the whole Lily thing go…” he trailed off, feeling awkward admitting it. 

It felt a bit like defeat to admit it out loud or like he was letting them down by saying it because everyone expected him to still be pining after Lily but quite frankly, he hadn’t thought about her in a long time, his mind a little preoccupied with other more pressing issues.

Three pairs of eyes turned to him in confusion.

“You have?” his mum asks softly, her dark brows knitting across her caramel skin slightly.

“Huh?” Sirius blurts out, jaw slack.

James just shrugged, absently pushing his food around with his fork, “Just exploring other options.”

“Well what about your OWLs?” his mother piped up helpfully, redirecting the conversation away from him and allowing him a moment's respite though the knowing gleam in her eyes showed that she wasn’t completely done with this topic.

“We’re…studying,” Sirius evaded, side-eyeing James. What he really meant was that they had barely been studying at all but they vowed to become more serious once they got back.

James heard a distant tapping sound from somewhere and he began looking around to find the source. A moment later, a large shadowy figure began tapping incessantly and louder against the windows of the dining room and James rushed up to open it lest it crack the glass.

“What the-” he said but was cut off with the large owl sweeping into the room and landing right on the table, uncaring about the lack of space. Its wing was brushing the bowl of mash though it was eyeing the bread with a certain interest, not noticing or not caring about all their shock.

Its eyes glowed amber, reflecting the candlelights back at them and it reminded him of Remus’ eyes and their unknown depths. It was a beautiful creature but one couldn’t quite place though there was something about it that prickled against the back of his mind, calling to him.

His parents looked confused but Sirius’ eyes were just wide with shock and recognition, “Midnight,” he gasped.

The owl hooted before sticking a clawed leg out to Sirius who grabbed the attached parcel with visible trepidation. It was rather large and seemed heavy but the owl was so massive it must’ve been easy. Despite it, James handed a large chunk of bread to the owl who grabbed it and flew out of the window without another moment’s wait.

Sirius's immediate recognition of the owl triggered James’ memory into action and knew- it was Regulus’ owl, the same one that flew past the Slytherin table with a delivery and usually left him, and his friends, in a bad mood.

They all sat in bated silence as Sirius held the wrapped package in his slightly outstretched hands.

He turned it from side to side, the brown paper crinkling with the movement, and set it down in his lap, plucking the white envelope attached to the top and breaking the wax seal to read it.

While packages weren’t uncommon around the holidays, there was something about the way Sirius’ demeanour instantly shifted and the way he read the letter that had them all tense.

His frown deepened and two tension lines formed between his brows the further he read, his lips moving slightly as his eyes rapidly scanned the page. His hands began to shake as his eyes instantly went back to the top to read again.

“Sirius dear?” his mother asked gently.

“It’s um- it’s from Regulus,” he whispered.

He dropped the parchment that had become crinkled from his tight grip and went to the package, shredding the paper to reveal the contents within.

It was a stack of colourful postcards that James didn’t recognize but Sirius looked at as if it was some lost treasure, and perhaps it was. He pulled the band that held it all together loose and began sifting through them quickly, taking record though James couldn’t even begin to count how many there were.

“What are they?” his dad asked hopefully, looking up at James in question who only shrugged in return.

“My Uncle Alphard, he er- would send us postcards from his travels. He died a while ago, Reg told me, I left these at home but-” he shook his head as his words became garbled, “May I be excused please?” 

“Of course,” his mum answered, reaching a hand out but stopping short next to him.

His chair scraped the floor loudly as he got up and dashed from the room, the package clutched in his hands. The letter fell to the floor but James picked it up, “I should go-.”

His parents nodded and he followed behind Sirius but paused just at the base of the stairs.

He shamelessly unfolded the letter and began to read it, subconsciously shoving his other hand in his pocket that held the small stone Regulus gifted him.

Sirius,

I found these in your room and thought you should have them, they’re yours.

Grimmauld isn’t the same without you and while I know you’re somewhere else, I hope you know you are not forgotten. The box is mine now but I don’t have much to store in it, maybe I’ll start.

Please don’t respond, I’ll get enough retribution for even sending this though I’m not sure if you would anyways. Perhaps some questions are better left unanswered.

Happy Christmas.

R.A.B.

James felt his heart kick up into a rapid gallop and understood how Sirius felt as he began feeling jittery and nervous himself.

He knocked at Sirius’ door before pushing it open and while he couldn’t see him, he heard sniffling sounds and stepped in closer.

“Pads?” he called out.

He made it to the other side of the bed and found him curled up on the floor there, tears escaping his eyes and making a track over the bridge of his nose before hitting the floor as he read the back of a postcard with the image of a sunset beach on the front.

“Prongs,” was all he said and it was enough.

He sat up and turned to collapse in James’ outstretched arms. He cried and while James didn’t know what it was specifically about this package that had him setting off, he could imagine the thoughts whirling around his mind about Regulus being at Grimmauld.

He remembered the way Sirius paced around the room and how he came back from Hogsmeade mad that Regulus didn’t listen to him about staying at Hogwarts for the holiday. No matter how he lied to himself, he was truly trying to save Regulus from whatever awaited him.

Fear and longing curled around James’ heart and squeezed and while he missed Regulus, he started to worry for him as well.

The feeling was ever- familiar to him as he still remembered that initial day that Regulus passed out in the Infirmary, soaking wet and trembling from the abuse he faced from Mulciber and his cronies. 

Regulus was strong, he thought, the memory of him staring down Mulciber with his wand pointed in his face floating to the forefront. Regulus was utterly unforgiving then and James was scared he would genuinely hurt him then and there but he had lowered his wand at James say, showed restraint in a way that James didn’t know he might have had had the situation been reversed.

The way Regulus broke down in the bathrooms about whether or not he was a good person gave insight into his character- he was strong yet terrified of the world, terrified of who he might become because either way he turned, he would still be disappointing someone.

While James was under the pretence of comforting Sirius, he held his friend slightly tighter then, needing the same support himself as he silently worried for the boy neither of them could admit they cared about.

Chapter Text

While Walburga hadn’t found out what he had used their owl for, she was alerted of its comings and goings and knew it had left the house on unauthorised business. That earned him a sharp slap to the face though he said he used it to reply to a letter from Pandora asking about something related to their upcoming OWLs at the end of the year. She didn’t trust him but dropped the topic.

It had been worth it, he hoped.

He ruminated on what Sirius’ thoughts on the matter might have been the following day in the Library, the book open on his lap completely forgotten as he was lost in his mind.

Their library was extensive, quite possibly the only admirable part of this house as it was set off a bit from the main body of the house, allowing it to have high ceilings and reach up to two stories tall. It was rather dark except for the ceiling which had skylights dispersed throughout to reveal a sheet of grey above them. The shelves were made of a dark wood with numerous strengthening charms to support the leather tomes with which each were stacked full of.

There was an endless supply of books on dark magic but he had managed to sneak in dozens of ‘nonsensical’ books by veiling them in disguise that Walburga would likely never be able to look past. He was the only one that really used this space anyways, the smell of parchment and ink reminding him of Hogwarts.

The noise of little pattering alerted him that an elf was on its way and just as he expected, Kreacher walked in a moment later.

They never spoke about that unfortunate incident two days ago in which he hauled Regulus to bed like he was a depressed sack of potatoes and tucked him in but he hoped Kreacher knew how much he appreciated the act nonetheless.

“Master Regulus, Mistress Black is needing you downstairs, she is having a guest,” he croaked, head bowed though as the years passed it was harder to tell whether he did it out of respect or simply old age.

He slowly sat up straighter, putting his book aside. He didn’t recall Walburga ever mentioning they were having guests over. He quickly ran a hand through his hair as he shoved his feet back into his shoes and left at a quick but reasonable pace. Endurance was not one of his strong suits.

He turned the corner to the receiving room and found Bellatrix talking animatedly with his mum. She looked the same as she always did but her excitement instantly put him on edge as he creeped slowly into the room.

“Regulus,” she grinned.

“Bella,” he greeted her shortly.

“I’ve invited Bellatrix here to help you practise your magic. Hogwarts doesn’t provide a very well-rounded education and I believe you are sorely lacking as of late,” his mum smiled, her voice sweet as snake venom.

“Ah,” he said, crossing his hands behind him, “Well, I look forward to it,” he agreed simply despite the cold chill that swept over him, his hand trembling slightly in his closed fist.

“I do hope you manage to learn something ,” she commented snidely before striding out of the room. 

After his mum slapped him across the face, she had gone on a tirade on how he was not to disappoint her as the new heir to the House of Black. He supposed her newfound worry for the future of their house coupled with his insolence at yesterday’s dinner forced her to seek out Bellatrix of all people for assistance.

He just looked back at his cousin, confused about what exactly they were to do now. He hadn’t actually expected they’d be doing anything today .

“Come, come, you have no space in this house,” she groaned, looking around at the dark room before wrapping a clawed hand around his wrist and pulling him into the floo with her. 

They ended up at her manor, her wedding with Rodolphus coming in the following months.

Their manor felt…confusing. There were large windows throughout that revealed a beautiful countryside that was currently covered in an undisturbed blanket of pure white snow. The front lawn had plants that were mere skeletons now but gave way to breathtaking fauna come spring and the back garden was no different. The outside of the house was a marvel and a complete juxtaposition to his own.

However, the floors were made of near black wood, there were paintings of ancient family members everywhere who sneered and snarled at anyone that entered the house- pureblood or not, the walls were painted a deep green that made every space feel small, and there was nothing personal about the house in the slightest- it was cold, metaphorically and literally, he wished he had brought a cloak with him.

Bellatrix twirled out of the fireplace, arms wide as she spun around to face him, “To the garden.”

“The garden? Why?” he asked, apprehension written clearly on his features.

His memories in this house weren’t necessarily extensive. He and Sirius used to come over relatively often when they were younger and they were usually excited considering they weren’t allowed to spend time with many other kids their age so his cousins were practically his idols, especially since they were all a few years older than he was.

Narcissa was most definitely his favourite as they were the most similar. They had many common interests as well as matching temperaments. The two of them created a duo that was almost the exact opposite of Sirius and Andromeda who were quite a devious couple, causing mayhem anytime they came together but weaselling out of the consequences all at the same time.

Bellatrix was the ‘odd one out’ so to speak.

She was quite close with her sisters though over the years they grew more distant. It was clear however, that Andromeda’s banishment from the family was her breaking point. She became more brash and irrational, her thread on any sense of ‘family’ and ‘loyalty’ snapping, unable to be resown together.

All of these traits are what pushed her towards the woman she was today, one that he did not recognize as the cousin he grew up with.

He followed her towards the glass doors a small elf pulled open for them and it reminded him of the elf from Christmas dinner. He knew better than to ask about it but wondered if it had survived, single-handed and all.

His teeth instantly began chattering once the cold air rushed towards him, nipping at his exposed flesh, “You never answered my question.”

“So impatient,” Bellatrix tutted as she continued walking all the way to a small clearing in the centre of the barren garden. Her robes were an odd style, as though she had jumped into a pile of mismatched black cloth and stepped back out as though ready. 

There was a fountain in the middle of the circular clearing outlined by dry hedges. Water streamed out of the mouth of a siren, distinctly different from a mermaid with her sharp teeth, pointed ears, and razor-sharp fingers. She was sitting on the base, facing the sky as if about to sing a song to lure anyone near to their death. Little clumps of frost floated across the surface of the low water before breaking apart by water charm kept the water flowing.

It matched the general decor inside- odd and unsettling.

Bellatrix spent a moment watching him- her head tilting oddly to the side, her tongue running over her teeth before she kissing them and going, “Alright, come on, pull out your wand.”

Sirius might’ve said- ‘that’s what she said,’ a muggle phrase he picked up from his Remus and used insistently for years and now here he was, adopting it.

Though he did what she said and pulled out his wand, holding it aloft, waiting for some more direction.

“Expelliarmus! ”

“Hey!” he shouted as his wand landed directly in Bellatrix’s hand.

She rolled her eyes and threw it back at him, “When Aunt Walburga told me to help you, I didn’t think she meant to reteach you everything.”

“I wasn’t ready,” he argued, confused about the meaning of all of this in the first place.

“I’m trying to assess your ability,” he heard her voice in his mind, hissing in a false caress against the boundaries of his mind.

“Get out of my head,” he ordered, scrabbling up his mental walls and pushing her definitively out of his lighthouse.

“Expelliarmus! ” she shouted again though it was unsuccessful as he deflected the spell quickly this time.

While he might have expected her to nod and appreciate his quick adaptation, she merely took it as an invitation to continue.

She continued shouting spells he learned throughout his years at Hogwarts- leg-locking jinxes, disarming spells, explosive spells, et. cetera - all compounded on top of each other, forcing him to continue deflecting or reinforce his protection shield.

Sweat beaded on his forehead as he held his ground but Bellatrix looked completely at ease as she shot multi-colored hexes at him, dancing around him and forcing him to keep his feet constantly moving to match her. 

She casted magic like it was a performance, leaving him and anyone else in the audience stunned, forced to stop whatever they were doing and pay attention lest they miss a single moment. Her feet barely touched the ground, only hitting the grass under her long enough to pivot before continuing her wide path around him, further disorienting him.

The previous chilling air wasn’t enough now as he was overheating trying to balance physical and mental magic. He could still feel her trying to needle her way into his mind every few minutes, just to ensure his walls were still up.

She paused and he took advantage of it to collect himself.

“Hmm,” she hummed, tapping her chin with her wand as though it was an extension of herself. “Okay,” she decided whatever internal conversation she was having, nodding once and raising her strong arm once more.

“ Alta vulnus! ” she hissed, crouching low now in a fighting position, one foot braced behind her and head cocked. 

She was losing herself to her magic, going deeper into that well of magic that brewed within her, teetering on the ledge and if she fell, he wasn’t sure there was anyone to catch her. He could see it clearly in the way the earlier spells didn’t excite her like this one did. 

He’d never heard it before but he felt it well enough to catch the meaning. The hex fired at him in an explosion of red, catching him on the arm through his shield and searing through his skin. Hot blood spilled from the wound onto the white snow beneath him, just like the wine on the hardwood floors.

He immediately covered the wound with his hand and glared at her, affronted, “What the fuck Bella.”

She just raised her dark eyebrows as though his wound was answer enough.

She shouted it again and he was forced to layer multiple shields on top of each other just to defend himself from her.

The onslaught of spells was relentless, she cast so many spells he’d never heard of before but each caused their own unique type of pain- electrocution, lacerations, something that affected his hearing and took away his sense of hearing were just the ones he could identify in the small space of time between the waves of attack. He couldn’t even keep up a shield because each new spell she cast could get around it with ease and he could barely make sense of what he even cast himself- his mind and body completely uncoordinated with what he wanted and unable to keep up with Bellatrix who cast with surgical precision.

“Bombarda maxima! ” she shouted, aiming right at his feet and the ground beneath him exploded, sending him flying a few yards away in a pile of dirt and snow. The cuts he had blooming along his arms were weeping red tears of blood while all of his bones shrieked in pain at the impact.

He could barely lift his head as his ears rang loudly and his vision swam. He slowly saw two figures of Bellatrix approach him and she crouched down right in front of him, “Never did I think you would be so helpless Regulus. You’re the heir now, you will do better or else I’ll burn you off the tapestry myself,” she threatened.

That was all she had to say for today before disappearing, retreating from his limited line of sight.

He just dropped his head back down to look up at the sky above him, groaning anytime he moved a muscle or joint.

He expected maybe she’d assign her a few books to read up on, maybe practise some small scale duelling or she’d instruct him on all the spells she used and he’d flourish under her tutelage. He didn’t expect to be thrown into a duel with her and forced to protect himself under a charge of spells he’d never heard before from a clear professional.

He wondered when she had even learned all these spells and understood clearly that the only explanation for Bella’s complete turn in character could be attributed to the one man recruiting strong witches and wizards like her.

“Oh dear,” he heard and opened his eyes to Narcissa who he hadn’t heard approach.

He felt himself being lifted from the ground and she brought him all the way to a small study just inside the back doors. She instantly lit the hearth and had demanded a list of items from a decrepit elf that nodded immediately before disappearing.

He opened his eyes to her delicate face staring down at him, kneeling on the floor next to his supine form on the velvet green sofa.

“I watched the whole thing, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you but you know Bella…” she trailed off, brushing a tendril of his hair away from his face, her touch feather light and warm against his cool and slick face.

“I know Bella,” was all he sighed, resigned to succumb to the beast she was.

“Now let’s see what we can do about these nasty cuts, I did well enough with healing spells,” she whispered, as though even speaking too harshly may cause his wounds to reopen and she slowly peeled his shirt off, giving it to an elf to clean and mend.

The healing process was excruciatingly painful, Narcissa too hesitant to move too quickly or do anything drastic and forcing him to feel every inch of his skin being pulled taut and together in slow motion. He appreciated her effort but he’d rather go through the torture of getting it again than sit through this.

“I’m sorry Reg,” she whispered, shaking her head at herself. She had become even more unsure of herself, quiet and meek, unlike the girl she was before and he had to blame Malfoy. While Bellatrix may have gone off one end, Narcissa was teetering the complete opposite and he desperately wished to pull her back.

“It’s okay, truly,” he assured her.

“And last you have- Episkey! ”

A quick snapping sound followed by a burst of pain and then relief, “Ouch,” he said exaggeratedly, rubbing his arm.

“Just wanted to get that one over with,” she smiled.

Once everything had been fixed and wrapped, she sat back in a wing-backed chair across from him, her feet tucked under her. She was watching the flames dancing along the hearth and it reflected gold light back on her alabaster face. Her hair was flowing freely at her sides, part of it tied back by a light blue ribbon that she had been using since she was young.

She doled out tea for the both of them, preparing it exactly how he liked it before turning to face him, “While Bellatrix was…harsh, I am happy we have this time to speak, I missed you.”

“I know it must be hard after…what happened but you know I’m here for you always, I know what it’s like to lose…someone” she assured him sadly, reaching over to put a hand over his.

None of them were to speak Sirius or Andromeda’s name after they were blasted off the tapestry. He wouldn’t be surprised if sirens went off if they did with how seriously the Blacks took things like that.

They sat like that for a long moment, a lifetime of memories flitting over both of their minds and reminding them of better times while simultaneously making them feel sadder about the present. They didn’t even have to vocalise these feelings, a mutual understanding settling quietly between them.

“Tell me, how’s your year been, OWLs are coming up right?” she asked, the corner of her mouth lifting as she cradled her mug closer to her and he smiled, diving into a conversation full of random tangents and comments that he felt were imperative to include just for the sake of it.

They took turns speaking and listening, going on without pause until the sun set and it was time for him to go back to Grimmauld to continue counting down the minutes till he could get to go back home.

____

“Faster!” Bellatrix shouted, blood pooling at the side of her mouth and dripping down her chin like a vampire that had just made a fresh kill.

He pushed harder, grunting with the effort it took to keep going. His arm burnt from the strain he had been putting on it, casting and defending himself without end. It felt wrong to attack back so he simply just reflected everything back at her and had managed to knock her with a hex. 

Just because he wasn’t aiming for her face didn’t mean he didn’t feel a bit satisfied at the sight of it.

She had been keeping this up for days, all through the new year and after. He didn’t have time to celebrate the holidays or relax from the term to gear up for the next one- he was Bellatrix’s plaything to bombard relentlessly and he couldn’t possibly keep up with her.

“Wait!” she announced loudly in the garden, her voice carrying over and a flock of birds escaped from the tree they had been hiding in, crowing as they disappeared over the horizon. “You are distracted,” a comment, not a question.

“I’m not,” he frowned, standing his ground.

“So you truly are this shite at duelling?” she asked, cocked brow.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

She laughed like he had just told a joke, like the idea of him doing any actual harm was incomprehensible and it made fire burn low in his stomach, the sick feeling of insecurity and diffidence seeping through him.

“I wish to see the day you could,” she mocked, slowly stalking towards him but he held firm, refusing to back down. “Let’s see what’s going on up there then.”

He had only just heard the words before her wand was at his temple and he had the sensation of falling. Bellatrix had thrown herself into his mind, the worst kind of violation imaginable, and was sorting through his memories as if reading a magazine. Flashes of the last term flitted through the forefront of his mind and he shut them all away right as she caught them.

It was messy and obvious but he had been working on his Occlumency all term and was gaining easily on her until he managed to shut things away before she got a chance to even get a glimpse of what he was trying to hide. Most of those were memories of James, Sirius, his friends, anything and anyone incriminating.

Instead, he threw forth memories of Potions lectures and Quidditch matches. Whatever he knew would annoy Bellatrix, he shot at her, throwing her off her aim and leaving her confused.

While Bellatrix may have the upper hand physically, Regulus was winning this mental battle of arms, showing his cousin that brute force wasn’t the pinnacle of strength or what made a good soldier.

More often than not, he spent his days in a daze of Occlumency- not just so he could strengthen his mental shields but because of the pain he spent his days in. Narcissa was helpful but she was not a mediwitch and she was away more often than not, planning her wedding with Malfoy and her horrendous in-laws. 

He knew he had a multitude of broken bones that had gone unhealed and were setting improperly. His skin was littered in scars and scabs accentuated by bruises in varying shades of purple.  He had barely been eating, managing a few bits and pieces that kept him going and nothing more, Walburga’s comments sticking in his mind like cement.

He felt nothing like the person he was just a few short weeks ago. He was a shell more often than not and had become just a slight bit dependent on dreamless sleep to silence his mind in the dark hours of the night when his mind had gone from a silent fortress to a manic thing, refusing him a moment’s respite. 

Bellatrix was relentless in her pursuit but he was victorious in keeping her out and leaving her on the outside of his trusty lighthouse, seeing it and knowing she’d never make it in.

She withdrew.

They were both on the ground now, him on his back and her kneeling right next to him, poised to attack. Her eyes rapidly flicked between his own and her brows were drawn, studying him like he was a new specimen and he stared her back down.

“You have potential,” was all she said before pulling away. “I’m sad to say today will be our last lesson before you have to go back, let’s make it count. Work on your offensive magic, defence will get you nowhere. Remember Reg, it’s all about power in this world, those without it deserve nothing better than death.”

She showed him the depths of her power then and while he fought back, it simply wasn’t enough. He didn’t match her in the slightest and whilst she walked away with a split lip and cut arm, he had an entire list of injuries and it was easier to figure out what didn’t hurt than what did.

He went home, took a potion, and knocked out, grateful for a reprieve from the world of the living that brought him nothing more than pain.

_____

He was woken up the following morning, the day he was to go to Hogwarts, with a harsh knock on his door.

He had only just opened his eyes when the door swung open to reveal his mother who stepped in without his ‘okay.’

“Mum,” he croaked, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, unused to seeing her so early or in this state.

“Are you aware of what time it is?” she asked curtly, her voice tight with barely concealed anger.

“No- I-,” he turned to his clock that revealed it was already half ten in the morning, the train set to leave at noon and he was completely unprepared.

He jumped out of bed, still in yesterday’s clothes and Walburga looked at him with complete distaste that he didn’t quite understand. She was usually mad at him more often than not but he hadn’t done anything to deserve the daggers she was throwing at him with her piercing glare.

“What is it?” he asked, voice low and already shaking.

She sat primly on the very edge of his bed, the mattress dipping slightly with the movement and she stared directly at him when asking, “Have you been in Sirius’ room?”

He immediately took a pause. 

Of course he had but how did she know? His first instinct was to lie but surely if she was asking then she knew something but then again, it could easily just be a test. His mind rapidly bounded between the two possibilities presented to him.

She hadn’t mentioned Sirius once the entire time he’d been back home and she hadn’t come to this floor of the house at all in his time here so he didn’t quite believe she’d take notice if he had gone in. The portraits didn’t care too much about him so it wasn’t like they’d tell on him and even then, he hadn’t gone back to Sirius’ room since he went to get the postcards and that was during the middle of the night.

“I have not,” he replied, hands behind his straight back. He tried to compose himself and gather as much dignity as he could despite his dishevelled appearance.

“Ah yes, I figured you’d say that,” she nodded, running a finger along the wooden post of his bed before flicking away nonexistent dust, “You see, it’s just because I walked by and I didn’t feel my magic there, when I cast the spell to find out who’s it was, would you believe it was yours?”

His heart stopped dead in his chest before rapidly speeding up at an irregular rhythm, beating in his ribcage like a bird demanding to be let out. His hands trembled, a quite often phenomenon after his mother’s and Bella’s Crucio’s and other painful hexes, but now it could have entirely been from fear.

He was only in his collared shirt and trousers from yesterday but his skin felt like it was on fire and his ears burned as his mother brought her eyes back to him, the metallic grey in them glinting with the promise of retribution.

Sirius was never to be mentioned, a clear rule, but he had gone straight into his room and she knew about it, the one person who hated Sirius most in this world. And for her to know what kind of magic was used to reward the room again, it was certainly in the realm of dark magic, the kind that tore away at one’s soul and magical core like a parasite.

He had redone the wards and locks exactly as she had done and no one else would ever have known he had gone in but the dark magic that defied all the normal laws and hacked into the very nature of magic and the chemistry that created it, well it was abhorrent and here his mother had easily used it just to incriminate him.

“What have I told you about lying?” she asked savagely, the words hitting him like a physical blow, before standing up and pointing her wand at him. The tip of her wand was an ever-familiar site but he’d never get used to the pain, the mind-splitting, soul-crushing agony that emitted from it.

_____

He had just barely made it to the train station, the train already puffing out clouds of smoke as it prepared to leave the station stock-full of students returning for the second half of the year.

His entire body was stiff, any move he made carried the risk of making him completely fall apart. His body was like a tower of cards, one wrong move and he’d surely crumble right on the train platform.

Kreacher had dropped him off and while Regulus was going to just silently leave, the old elf remained holding onto his cloak sleeve.

“Master Regulus, Kreacher is hoping you do well to please Mistress,” he hoarsed.

Regulus just nodded, he couldn’t do much more than that.

“And Kreacher is hoping…Master Regulus eats more and sleeps. Master has not been taking care of himself…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure as he toed the line between silent subservient elf and a position akin to a friend.

He left without another word, unable to adequately respond.

Words didn’t matter, he had begged and pleaded with his mum to stop and she didn’t, she had only cursed him harder for his words and tears, ordering him to stop because “Blacks don’t cry.”

Words didn’t matter against Bellatrix for every spell he cast, she came back with more power without even needing to say the incantations aloud.

They didn’t matter for their elf who may have tried to comfort Regulus but was still inevitably tied to their surname more than he was to him.

He was the last one aboard, his trunk floating behind him as he made his way down the train cars all the way to the one he shared with his friends.

He slid the creaky door open and saw Pandora sitting silently with her head on Evan’s shoulder, her eyes closed while he stared out the window. Barty was curled up on the opposite bench, his nose in a book but his eyes were glossy and unfocused. Dorcas had headphones on as she listened to music out of a little muggle device she had gotten last year but she perked up at his arrival,

“Reg, we almost thought you wouldn’t make it!” she said, rousing everyone else.

She looked well, her hair long and in braids that went down to her waist, gold cuffs clinking throughout and allowing light to reflect off her. He was happy to see her bright-eyed and cheery, her familiar smile already on her face just as his arrival.

He wanted to say something, the words pushing up in him but he couldn’t get them out, couldn’t force his mouth to move around the words that he’d usually start with, not even a simple greeting survived to his mouth, instead dying somewhere along the way.

He sat down next to Pandora who smiled up at him, her hair finally unbound and looking as it should, “I managed to keep my head on for the rest of holiday,” she grinned, her cheeks rosy.

Again he nodded at them all before shutting his eyes slowly and slumping back into his seat, keeping his mind empty and separate from the rest of his unfortunate body.

He didn’t move for the entirety of the trip back to Hogwarts but he had heard his friends whisper all about him when they thought he had been asleep. Murmurs flitted about whether or not he was okay and if they should talk to him about it. Pandora mentioned what happened at Christmas dinner but admitted she didn’t know anything past that. 

They decided that they wouldn’t talk to him unless he brought it up first, wanting to respect his privacy, and he could’ve cried with how grateful he was because he wouldn’t be able to verbalise his experience back at Grimmauld.

No one else knew what it was like there, besides one person who was multiple train cars away though it felt like an entire world away for how different it was for them.

_____

The feast passed by in a blur, he put some food on his place and pushed it around a bit before silently excusing himself to go back up to Ravenclaw Tower, his earlier proclamation about trying to transition back to the Slytherin dorms fully forgotten.

He looked up from the table only twice during his time in the Hall and was met with the glaring eyes of James and Sirius. 

James was first, his wide hazel eyes inquisitive behind his glasses as his dark brows remained furrowed with two tension lines between them. He looked well, his skin vibrant and hair silky as it fell in front of his eyes. The length of his hair reminded him of the shortness of his own and he looked away in embarrassment though he couldn’t deny that brief eye contact reawakened that familiar sense of traitorous longing that flared to life in his presence.

Sirius was second, his gaze so heavy that Regulus only looked up because he felt his scalp prickle at the sansation. Sirius was the epitome of tense- every line and muscle was pulled taut as he stared at him and his grey eyes were practically glowing mercury and the knowing glint in his eye caught him off guard.

Memories of Sirius’ diatribe in Hogsmeade about him staying at home floated unbidden in his mind and Regulus wondered just for a moment what might have happened had he listened, if he just ignored Walburga’s missives and stayed, begged McGonagall to not contact his parents for further explanation, and remained in the safety of the castle walls.

Maybe he would’ve had the strength to speak now.

He fell asleep almost instantly, not even noticing when Pandora or her roommates arrived back in the room after the feast. The weariness that had been gathering over the holiday crashed over him like a wave, overwhelming the anxiety that toiled within him.

It was almost fine, like he could finally relax again and enjoy the rest of the term just spending time with friends and studying for OWLs, until he woke up with a scream.

His voice was hoarse with disuse but memories of Walburga and Bellatrix morphed in his mind, the two of them suddenly turning into Sirius then James then his own friends, all of them taking turns berating him for something, shouting at him for being a disappointment. The horror of it was all too much and he began shouting, pleading for help.

The nightmare forced him to lash out, all the tension in his body finally releasing in one fell swoop and every hastily healed cut and oddly set bone broke free, sending an overwhelming feeling of pain rushing through him and forcing him to wake up though it didn’t feel like he really slept at all. 

He genuinely thought he was dying, like this was it for him as he couldn’t make sense of anything.

One minute he was sleeping and now he was in a world of torment.

The only thing tethering him to this earth was Pandora’s face above his own, hers one of absolute shock and stress, her hands running over his face as her eyes darted all over him, trying to figure out what was happening. Her mouth was moving but Regulus couldn’t hear anything over the static filling his ears

He must have passed out because the next time he opened his eyes, he was being lowered onto a bed by Flitwick, Madam Pomfrey rushing into view in her nightgown the minute his back hit the bed.

“Merlin, what’s happened to him?” she asked hastily, her voice dripping with concern, though she was already casting spells before anyone answered.

“I don’t know! One minute he was sleeping and the next- I don’t know he was shouting and his arms were bleeding! I tried to help him but he passed out,” Pandora cried out, her voice garbled with the sound of tears. Her hair curled around her like a halo and her tears glistened against the low lights.

“What the- Reg?” he heard loudly from his other side, the voice too loud in the otherwise silent room.

“Everyone out!” Pomfrey ordered followed by the sound of swishing curtains. He tried to stay awake this time but his fight was futile as he felt his mouth being pried open and potions sludging down his throat before Merlin himself pushed his eyelids shut and held them there and he slipped further and further away from himself.

_____

He woke up and the infirmary was still dark save for a few golden lit sconces dotting the walls around them.

The crisp white sheet was pulled up his chest and tucked in all around the sides, locking him into place, and he was about to yank them free but his arms yelled at him and he looked down to see they were both wrapped- the left that hurt more wrapped in a much thicker wrap than the right one that just had a cut going from forearm to wrist.

He looked up to see gleaming golden eyes staring right back at him from the chair set next to his bed.

It was Remus.

He was wearing a blue hospital gown, same as the one he guessed he was wearing, and he looked much the same as before save for a light pink scar that stretched from his right eye down and across his cheek.

He was leaning back slightly in the chair, his legs stretched so that they reached the bed to lay by his own legs and he didn’t say a word, just watched him.

Regulus didn’t know what to say either.

He almost wondered why Remus was in the Hospital wing at all, already on the first day of term because surely he didn’t have a similar home life or else James would’ve already adopted him as well.

He glanced out the window to the thin crescent that hung heavy in the sky and Remus caught the movement quickly, looking out himself. His profile was highlighted by the sliver of white light that filtered in and cast his usual shades of gold and auburn into black and white.

“You sure like making an entrance don’t you?” he asked, remembering the first time Regulus staggered in the Hospital Wing last term in which Remus was still in this hospital surrounded by his group of friends.

“Madam Pomfrey said you had multiple broken bones in your arms and legs, cuts across your body, and your blood sugar levels were ‘criminally’ low,” he listed off seriously, none of the usual humour that was clear in his voice during their mornings in the greenhouse present.

That sounded about right.

Regulus opened his mouth, was about to say something, not because he was ready to but because he missed Remus. He never thought he’d say that but Remus sitting here and staring at him with sadness in his eyes cracked something in Regulus that made him want to speak up. To ask Remus how his holiday was to fill the void within himself.

Right as he inhaled, the curtain swished open to reveal James, also in a hospital gown.

He would have thought he was in some sort of nightmare where they were all admitted for life-threatening ailments until Remus turned and said in a harsh-whisper, “James, why are you in that?”

He looked at Remus and back down at himself, “Madam Pomfrey gave it to me because she said my uniform would be uncomfortable. She was right, these are way roomier,” he answered, swishing his arms and kicking his legs for emphasis on the ‘roominess.’

The corners of his lips turned up by their own accord as James spun in place, his arms up and foot on his other calf like a ballerina. His humour was so effortless and yet, it was the only thing that had cracked the glass cage he had enclosed himself in.

James’ smile slowly dropped into something more tender, more intimate, like the way he set his mouth just before he went in to kiss Regulus and the sight was almost too much to bear. The way he looked at Regulus clashed so harshly with how his own family saw him that he didn’t know what to believe- who was lying to him.

“You were supposed to stay in bed,” James pointed at Remus who only rolled his eyes in return.

“So were you, in the dorm,” he shot back with an arched brow.

“Here I am, being a caring friend, and this is the treatment I get,” he huffed, looking at Regulus with raised brows as if asking ‘are you seeing this?’

Remus stood up, shooting a look at Regulus that promised he’d be back and then looking at James with confusion before James readied himself and left as well, leaving him alone once again. Regulus noticed James hadn’t asked why Remus was in here at all but he probably just assumed he was being a ‘good neighbour.’

He spotted the vial of dreamless sleep on his side table and downed it in one go, grateful for madam Pomfrey for leaving it there for him and he was an inch away from falling asleep before his curtains opened again and James creeped in, sitting in the chair Remus had just left from and pulling his feet up so they wouldn’t be seen under the curtain if Remus decided to peek.

His hair was mussed from sleep but his eyes were bright as if he had been awake for hours. All signs of previous mischief drained out of him like Regulus pulled the stopper, the act he put on for Remus gone here as he seemingly trusted Regulus with his true feelings. 

He looked woeful as he traced his eyes over the wraps all over him.

He moved forward then without another word and pulled at the sheets at his sides, freeing him from the straitjacket it felt like and Regulus wondered if he was projecting his thoughts so loudly that James picked up on them. It was like Regulus said to him once before, he just always knew how to help.

“Are you okay? No- that was stupid,” he asked then shut himself up again. “I just mean…”

The potion was already starting to go to his head and he fell back deeper into the mountain of pillows behind him.

“Sirius came by while you were out, sat in this chair until Madam Pomfrey kicked him out,” he said, the words confusing and podgy in his mind, “She let me stay because I pretended to fall asleep in one of the beds.”

He tried to grasp onto James’ words, to parse out why Sirius had stayed by his side in the chair but his mind was already muddling with trying to absorb James’ presence that delving into the section of his mind containing Sirius was causing an overload.

“You scared us-,” he corrected himself, pausing, “me.” Then as if words couldn’t do the job, James put his hand in his pocket and pulled out the stone Regulus had given him before the holiday in a moment of mild insanity.

He squeezed his hand around the stone and a projection of lavender and silver lanced around them, encasing them without a diamond, bright in the otherwise dark room. He still wasn’t quite able to figure out what emotion each colour correlated to.

It was a familiar sort of beauty and Regulus didn’t think he could ever get tired of the sight- James or the stone. Both were its own rare kind of beauty but together- it was a marvel he was the only one privy to and he hoped it stayed that way for the world barely deserved James Potter. It certainly didn’t deserve to see him encased in a glimmering diamond, reflecting his every emotion.

“I love it,” James whispered though his eyes remained on Regulus.

It sucked back into the stone after a heartbeat and as Regulus’ eyelids drooped, dragged under the allure of sleep, James made to stand.

As Regulus’ eyes shut, he felt the brush of warm fingers across his cool cheek, light as a feather and soft as silk. The scent of jasmine wafted over him in an embrace greater than any received and his skin burned as James’ finger trailed downwards and Regulus knew he was tracing over the scar Walburga’s nail left.

“Kya huwa mera sitara?” he whispered, low in Regulus’ ear. The words were unfamiliar but the way James spoke them, with more emotion than he had ever said anything in English pulled at Regulus, forced him to open his eyes just to see James one more time, haloed in the moonlight.

“Bonne nuit,” he smiled down at Regulus, his face closer than he last remembered it.

The effortless switch from Urdu to French gave Regulus the energy to stare openly at James in awe, his lips falling open and skin warming. The pronunciation wasn’t quite right but he managed it, the effort of using Regulus' preferred language making up more than enough for a slight twist of the tongue.

Regulus hadn’t said a word all day and while in his friends’ presence he felt like he ought to say something so as to not worry them or perhaps to reassure them of his sanity, despite however tenuous it felt but with James he neither felt the urge nor pressure to give in. He made up for the silence all on his own and Regulus was all too happy to listen to him though the potion was taking effect and he was starting to regret having been so hasty in downing it.

James moved back to leave but Regulus lifted a pained arm to grip his wrist, his fingers digging into the soft skin in a desperate plea, “Stay.” The first and only thing he’d said all day, a stark contrast to his earlier shrieking.His arm hung suspended between them as he couldn’t gain the energy to hold it up himself and if James left now, it would only add insult to injury.

He couldn’t rationalise why or what James’ decision might be but it was only a beat before James spun his hand around so their palms faced each other and he raised his hand to his lips, kissing it, before sitting back down with a soft smile, “Okay.”

He didn’t remember anything after that but when he woke up and the sun had replaced the moon, James was gone but a vase of flowers he didn’t remember seeing there before were blooming by him. 

As he gathered his things, wanting to leave before the very attentive mediwitch came back to poke and prod him, a large piece of thick paper fell from his robe pocket.

He almost thought it was James’ and was confused about why such a large piece of paper and the lack of imaginative hiding places he usually used but he picked it up and was faced with a printed picture of a vast mountain range, white sheeps dotting the vibrant green slopes. Under the image in a bright white font were the words- Erin go Bragh!

It couldn’t be…but when he turned the rectangular card around, he saw Sirius’ handwriting- elegant and messy all at the same time.

Reg,

I received the postcards, you didn’t have to but I,  thank you. Uncle Alphard never went to Ireland funnily enough.

I hope one day you make it there, perhaps I’ll be there as well.

Maybe our paths will cross

Sirius

He reread the message over and over until his eyes burned. He could barely believe it and yet he was staring at the proof of his brother’s…care? The words seemed simple enough but for him and Sirius, who could barely manage looking at each other too long, this was everything.  He found himself lingering on the words that had been crossed out, wondering what it was that Sirius wanted to say then deemed irrelevant.

He was just about to make it out of the room, shocking himself out of his stupor, when the curtains swung open to reveal a serious-faced Madam Pomfrey who eyed his changed clothes and tsked.

“You know better than that,” she clucked, going back out and waiting until he changed back into the dressing gown again.

He sat like a petulant child, arms crossed against his chest as she forced him back to the bed but he couldn’t get the ghost of James’ lips across his hand away, the words inscribed onto the postcard as though they were on his skin, or even Remus’ quiet but whole attention.

He hadn’t imagined it was possible for a single night to undo more than a week’s worth of suffering and yet they had managed to make a dent in it, taking it upon themselves to ease the strain on his own back.

The realisation was shattering and Madam Pomfrey pretended not to notice as he wiped his eyes every time he turned away, wishing to go to that isolated lighthouse he had constructed in his mind at the edge of the world.

Maybe it was in Ireland.

Chapter Text

“All right, I would like you all to partner up with the person sitting next to you for our project that will last the rest of this term- Terry, pay attention- ah right, so you will all have to come up with a Potion of your own invention as well as the antidote for said potion to demonstrate your knowledge, given that you have gained any,” Slughorn announced, giving pointed glances to students around the room. “I will not be helping you at all, please use today’s class time to begin brainstorming,” he finished, settling back down in his squashy leather chair to read the Prophet.

Regulus was convinced he came up with assignments like this whenever the Prophet had an especially juicy cover story- today’s being that a certain French witch has been gallivanting around in the Muggle world using spells and hexes to climb her way to the top. Regulus had to admit he wanted to snag a copy to see for himself, and if being a death eater didn’t work out, maybe he could do that.

He was forced to come to class today as he was deemed healthy by Madam Pomfrey and fit to resume his regular activities. He didn’t agree but he was no match against a formidable witch such as herself.

It had been a week since coming back and while his self-imposed silence had been lifted, it didn’t mean he had forgotten the horrors that he faced over the holiday. He likely never would and held no doubts that he would face more of the same over the summer.

He hadn’t said a single word to James since before the holiday and was the subject of heavy stares under hooded eyes or quick glances whenever they passed each other in the corridor. He wasn’t sure what they meant or what message James was trying to convey- perhaps he was put off by a certain kiss they shared and was trying to figure Regulus out or see if he’d tell anyone.

He knew James wouldn’t want anyone to know what had happened that night, what slip in judgement or chaos in the universe brought them together. He hadn’t told any of his friends either but it was especially hard to keep a secret like this from Pandora, the one he shared a bed with every single night. 

He could reassure James that it would never happen again but something about saying the words, admitting them, made them more true and while he knew that is what James would want, Regulus couldn’t help the longing that pulled at him when he spotted James and the lips that grazed his or the hands that held him close while snow fell around them. The moment was so perfect he sometimes doubted it was even real. 

While James wasn’t his first kiss, thinking back to that moment made Regulus wonder if he had died now, would he be happy with that being his last kiss? The moment was a definitive yes. 

Even now, James was idly tapping his quill against the black tabletop with no idea that his deft fingers were driving Regulus mad.

Perhaps the problem was that they had only shared one kiss. Surely that wasn’t enough, it was like eating a single crisp out of an entire bag- it wasn’t enough to satisfy the craving for them.

Regulus was debating the merits of this theory when James turned in his chair expectantly, a winning grin already plastered on his face, ready to charm Regulus.

“So partner, any ideas so far?” he asked.

“For the project we were assigned a second ago? I’m going to have to say no,” he replied, rolling his eyes and opening his Potions book.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I have any ideas?” he prodded.

“Why Potter, do you have any ideas?” he said dramatically, holding the heavy pause at the end of the question while he waited for James’ answer.

“No but it’s still nice to be asked,” he smiled.

Regulus had to resist the overwhelming urge to punch him though it would probably hurt him more than it hurt James.

“Reg!” He heard from behind him the harsh cut of Dorcas’ voice when she pretended to whisper but it was usually louder than her regular voice. “Why don’t we just partner together and pretend we worked with who we were supposed to?”

Sirius, who had yet to even look at Regulus despite the damning postcard that still weighed down Regulus’ bag, looked affronted, “Are you always this charming?”

“I’m just trying to save my grade,” she quipped.

“And what about mine?” he sassed, crossing his arms.

“I doubt it could get any worse,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

He always wondered what it would have been like had their houses been different. He found so many similarities between his own friends and Sirius’ and yet just because their ties were green and theirs were red, they were bound to be mortal enemies. Sure their ‘values’ may be different but what did that mean once they left Hogwarts? 

Without the ties or robes to differentiate them were they not all more or less the same?

They quickly descended into an argument in which Dorcas’ too close eyes were brought up and Sirius’ sorry excuse for hair was mentioned and he quickly tuned that out in favour of scouring their textbook to find something that might spark inspiration.

“How are you feeling?” James asked, voice markedly lower like how it usually was when he brought up something that he most definitely should not have in class.

“Fine,” Regulus answered evenly.

“But you-”

“I don’t want to talk about it Potter,” he replied curtly, not intending to be rude but what was the point in asking if he was okay after the fact? It changed absolutely nothing and just forced him to relive his experiences over and over again.

“Okay,” he agreed, opening his own book and trying to find something of worth.

And there he did Regulus’ favourite thing in the world- he didn’t push him. James had never once pushed him past his limits, tested him without some ulterior motive, or crossed the line in a harmful way towards Regulus. He simply accepted what Regulus said despite his own desires to know more or to dig deeper.

Class ended and he hadn’t even flipped the page, too lost in his own mind to read the words scrawled across the page.

Inspiration would have to strike elsewhere.

_____

Regulus was taking his mediwitch-prescribed walk outside when James showed up seemingly out of nowhere.

Madam Pomfrey believed that he needed to ‘use what the earth gave him’ and go outside more because apparently fresh air and sunshine could combat the after effects of the Unforgivables. If that were the case, they wouldn’t be so unforgivable now would they?

Maybe that’s why Azkaban was so dark.

He was kicking some dirt off his shoes when he looked up and was met with the merry face of James. He nearly jumped out of his skin because there’s no way someone of James’ size could arrive so silently.

“Gods what are you doing?” Regulus asked, trying to calm his heart back down.

“I saw you were taking a walk and wanted to join you,” he smiled, immediately taking off, leaving Regulus still frozen in place behind him.

“How did you even find me?”

He was walking near the boundary of the forest, far enough that one wouldn’t be able to just spot him from the castle on a whim, they’d have to be looking for him. He had even gone so far as to go during lunch so that more students were inside than not.

It was still cold, breezes carrying a slight chill brushing over him every once in a while but it was mildly better than before and he’d take what he could get. The sunlight was still weak through the occasional cloud that drifted by but he’d rather do this than take another sour potion in the hospital wing. 

He wasn’t sure if the walks would actually do anything but he did miss the sense of being outside and completely free with no one to bother him, well except for James, whose presence he didn’t mind too much considering he was the reason Regulus started to enjoy it in the first place.

“My Regulus-radar was going off,” he turned around while walking and explained as though that was completely normal. The sunlight glinted off of a watch on his wrist but it was his bright red trainers that caught his attention. They were scuffed all along the white edge and had little drawings and markings along the top and sides. They surely weren’t in line with uniform but they suited him well. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you had one,” he continued, shoving his hands in his pockets and trudging forward, forging his own path in the overgrown grass that sprouted up all around them. “But why are you here?” Regulus asked, a cat with an unfortunate habit of curiosity. 

It wasn’t as though he and James were casual friends. The sight of them together would drive the gossipers in the school mad and any of their friends even crazier.

“Is it a crime to want to spend time with you?” James asked, looking out of the corner of his eye at Regulus, his curls already escaping the knit cap he favoured so much. His cheeks were pinking from the chill and it was so damned endearing he wanted to slap him and kiss him at the same time.

He needed to get a grip.

“To some it might be.”

“I don’t rather care what ‘some’ think.”

“Confident, are you?” Regulus asked, partly in disbelief and partly in admiration because it certainly seemed like he didn’t care what others thought about him but was that entirely possible? To not care what anyone at all thought of him?

“Well what does it matter what others think of me? People’s opinions change all the time.”

“So what if people go from liking you to not, that doesn’t affect you at all?” Regulus proposed.

“I suppose that would be…unfortunate,” James responded, already doubting his earlier sentiments. “But as long as my friends continue to like me then I think I’ll be okay.”

There was silence for a moment before, “Is that what we are? Friends?” Regulus asked, scared for the answer. He wasn’t sure which way he wanted James to answer.

“Well I don’t just go on romantic walks by the forbidden forest with just about anyone now do I?” he asked, nudging Regulus’ shoulder in a familiar gesture.

That was partly the problem.

James was so kind to everyone that if he spotted someone walking alone, odds were he would go up to them and join in on their walk and probably spark up conversation about the weather as though it was the most enthralling topic of the day.

Regulus wasn’t more special than Maxine in Hufflepuff or bloody Roger Ravenclaw. He was just there .

It was the struggle of being wanted but not wanting to ask for it.

He remained silent.

“You do know that I-”

“Shut up,” Regulus cut James off harshly with a raised hand.

“W-”

“Shh,” Regulus forced his finger on James’ lips, effectively cutting him off, straining his ear to the side to ensure he wasn’t going mad.

"Bloody hell, I saw Prongs come out here,” a male voice cut through the dim.

“ Why would he be here, the forest is scary enough on moons,” the other voice responded, clearly not as interested as the first one.

James and Regulus only had a second to sprint straight into the forest, managing to scrabble behind a tree before whoever it was crested the hill and spotted them together.

They had seemingly chosen the same tree, a thick oak with a berth wide enough to cover the both of them, and James had only narrowly missed tackling Regulus, catching himself on the trunk and swinging himself over the other boy in a move that was so smooth he marvelled at how it was even possible.

James braced his arms on either side of Regulus’ head who was leaning back on the tree, feeling the rough bark cutting into the back of his robes but the pain dulled in comparison to the feeling of James’ towering over him and encasing him in his lean arms.

James ducked slightly, bringing his face even closer to Regulus’ while he peered over his shoulder to see who had come. He wasn’t even aware of their proximity whereas Regulus was wholly focused on it, on the way the sleeve of James’ robes brushed his cheek slightly and his leg pressed into his own.

“I told you he wouldn’t be here, maybe the map made a mistake.”

“When have you known the map to ever be wrong?” a voice, no- Sirius’ voice, appeared, closer this time.

“Like when it said you were in the girls’ dorm alone with Mary last year and you claimed you were just next to it, not in it ” Remus’ familiar voice retorted.

“I was! Well check the map then,” he rushed, the rustling of leaves under their feet crunching as they moved.

James’ breath hitched as he watched the interaction behind them, Regulus wanted to turn around but was afraid he’d make a noise or shock James to move away from him. 

He was forced to watch it all happen in the slight reflection of James’ glasses but the way his brows furrowed and face contorted was enough to scare him as well. 

Of course he understood why James wouldn’t want Sirius and Remus to find out he was there but it wasn’t like they could see them. He wasn’t even sure how they ‘knew’ James or apparently ‘Prongs’ was here. Even the nickname didn’t make sense but it was just as confusing as the elusive ‘map’ they spoke about.

“I didn’t bring it,” Remus replied quickly, the words melding together with his lilting Welsh accent.

James relaxed slightly.

“You didn’t- ugh Moony,” was all Sirius said before two pairs of footsteps faded away, leaving them alone once more.

The tension instantly flooded out of James’ body, all the taut lines of his body relaxing as a breeze from the depths of the forest swept past them, rustling the trees and the faint curls of Jame’s hair, carrying with them the sweet scent of winter and wood.

James huffed a laugh, shaking his head slightly as he looked back at Regulus, his cheek dimpling on the corner and staying there, snagging Regulus’ flighty attention.

“That was close,” James whispered though Regulus was the only one around. In moments like these he sometimes felt like they were the only two in the world for no one else seemed to matter.

Regulus nodded mutely, relieved himself but still carrying tension in his body, unable to relax.

Every breath James took brushed Regulus, hot against his cool skin, and it was almost as sweet as James’ warming charms that he had grown so accustomed to. 

The other boy’s dark eyes flitted between his own, searching for something, and as if needing to close that distance, James dropped his forehead to Regulus’- his entire world narrowing to James, drowning out the fact that they were in the forest in the middle of the day, a stark contrast to their usual meetings.

He looked at the green flecks in James’ eyes that were overshadowed by a chocolate brown casing. His eyes were a constellation of color, just like the stone he had found, and Regulus wanted to pick apart each shade and make a painting out of it. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about it,” James whispered, his hand a faint touch against the shell of Regulus’ ear, inching closer.

“Of what?” Regulus pushed, asking yet another question he shouldn’t.

James shifted, his mouth closer to Regulus' ear now, his voice barely audible, “The kiss.”

Regulus quickly sucked in a breath, unsure what to do with the war currently raging in his mind. He was sure that James had hated it, it was why they hadn’t spoken outside of class since last term, but his body language was signifying the complete opposite, his leg fully against Regulus’ now, the idea of personal space gone between them.

James’ teasing was driving him mad and he couldn’t form a coherent thought as he felt the cool touch of his wire-rimmed glasses against his temple.

Regulus' hand reached up to James’ shoulder seemingly on their own accord, fisting the material there and it caught James’ attention as he pulled back to look down at Regulus, his pupils blown wide with desire brewing in their depths.

He only had a moment to breathe before James’ lips were on his own once more, finding their mark smoothly, melding against his own as if they were always meant to be there, being created for the sole purpose of kissing him.

James’ hand moved to caress his cheek and Regulus leaned into his palm, tilting his head slightly as James went the other way, their noses brushing against each other.

James pushed forward with Regulus leaning fully against the tree to support his weight now and he brought his other arm up to James’ neck, encircling it and threading his fingers up and into his hair at his nape, the silky curls there slipping between his fingers. 

He gripped slightly, his nails scratching against his scalp and James’ made a small noise in the back of his throat that spurred him on, kissing Regulus with more force now and it only pushed Regulus to keep going, to hear what other noises James made in the heat of the moment.

While their first kiss was light and tentative, a ghost of a touch with both of them scared what the other might say or do in response, this one was sure of itself. Both of them wanted this, desperate for it since they first had a taste of each other, and the fire burned hotly between them.

Regulus’ mind had gone blank in favour of focusing on the sensations that rushed through him, the buzz of James’ strong hands against his face and faint taste of mint against his lips. Every ache and pain in his body had dulled as throbs of pure pleasure took over.

He couldn’t think about why he was doing this or how he should stop- how mad this was and what the consequences would be because he had been thinking of James for weeks, holding onto his memory while at Grimmauld to keep him sane. He thought he was just living in a fantasy but here James was kissing him like he had been dying for this moment, playing exactly into Regulus’ deepest desires. 

They pulled apart just for a moment to breathe, their eyes flying open from when they had been screwed shut and they were both panting, unable to come down from the high they had climbed so quickly.

James bit the corner of his lip as he tried to fight back a swelling smile. His cheeks were bright red and he suddenly looked embarrassed, as though he hadn’t sucked the air from Regulus’ lungs and kissed the sense out of him. He dropped his head into the crux of his arm that was still holding Regulus’ cheek, the thumb brushing his skin lightly.

“What,” Regulus forced out, unable to make out what was so bloody funny.

“You’re beautiful,” he finally said, looking back at Regulus, sharp teeth indenting into the pillow of his lips.

Regulus thought he hadn’t heard the words correctly, unable to connect them in relation to himself. Here he was, in front of James, who was objectively one of the most attractive men he had ever seen and yet he had chosen Regulus out of the masses. 

“And that’s funny is it?”

“I just can’t believe it,” he admitted, his earlier laughs fading into gentle awe, like seeing a deer in a meadow, a once in a blue moon experience. 

“I’m not,” Regulus whispered like a reflex, a kick in the knee, at James’ words.

He had been eating less at meals and trying to fix his hair in a way to make it look somewhat presentable but it wasn’t enough- he wasn’t enough.

“Then I will spend my time convincing you of it,” the other boy proclaimed boldly, his thumb dropping to brush the thin silver- line on his chin as though he could erase it. 

A distant bell alerted them that lunch had ended and in a split second, Regulus ducked under James’ arm and left at breakneck speed, his boots gripping the rocky terrain out of the forest and onto the clearing he was at before. 

He sped past the hills and other students, all the way into the castle and right into his seat in Transfiguration where he tried and failed to focus on turning a shoe into a mug.

He ended up with a leathery mug that spilled water out of a hole in the toe anytime he tried filling it.

By the look on McGonagall’s face, she wasn’t too pleased at the outcome of this afternoon either.

_____

“I’m sure you are all wondering why I have gathered you here today,” Pandora began, sitting at the head of the long table in the Library after dinner.

“You literally grabbed me, told me someone was dying, and led me here,” Dorcas deadpanned.

“Well something is dying- our futures . Not a single one of us has started studying for our OWLs,” she exclaimed, slapping her hands on the table that earned her glares from everyone else in the hall.

“You’re being dramatic,” Barty said, rolling his eyes.

Evan clearly agreed with Pandora, nodding along with her and looking at everyone else with disdain, surely McGonagall was tutoring him because the likeness was uncanny.

“Barty, what happens if you add wood chips to a mixture containing walderberries, ogre spit, and chocolate?” she immediately asked.

“A mess?”

“No! It explodes and you die. I guarantee that will be a question.”

“Okay point made, what should we do,” he sighed, already pulling books and parchment out of his bag.

They got started on studying, each of them taking a subject and mastering it before teaching each other what they learned for extra revision. 

Regulus blocked out his afternoon activities because there was no way he could possibly focus on the five uses of elephant snot when the noises James Potter made while kissing someone filled his mind, echoing and magnifying in the space.

After a while of staring at the same page of trying to figure out what the author was trying to say, Evan stood up awkwardly, “I have to er- get going now.”

“Absolutely not, if we’re studying so are you,” Regulus admonished as though he actually had been doing something. 

“What do you have that’s more important than us? No-” Barty was cut off as everyone’s head turned at someone’s approach. 

“Hey guys,” a voice popped up on their other side.

A boy with Ravenclaw robes stood on the other side of the table, one hand in his pocket, the other waving at them awkwardly. He had wavy brown hair that was styled neatly over his forehead and olive skin that reflected the glowing light from the sconces. His smile was genuine as he looked at all of them and then back at Evan who was looking at him with a hint of surprise.

“And who are you?” Dorcas asked, resting her chin on her hand, interest piqued.

“Er- I’m Nico, Evan told me he’d be here so…” he said, seemingly overwhelmed with all the attention on him.

“Yep, ready,” Evan nodded, gathering the rest of his books and shoving them into his bag. His face was flushed and the tips of his ears were red as he looked up at Nico.

“Oh my gods, is this a da-”

“Bye!” Evan finished, hurrying away, Nico following behind while looking over his shoulder at them in confusion.

They immediately burst into laughter once they disappeared from sight.

“Did you see his face?” Pandora laughed, clutching her stomach, “bless him, his head’s full of wrackspurts.”

Barty was the only one not laughing as his jaw was currently on the ground, “Are you serious? He just left! While we were studying! That’s so rude,” he said angrily.

“I don’t think that’s why you're upset,” Dorcas snickered.

“I’m not upset, I don’t even care , it’s just like…rude,” he finished, slamming his book shut. “C’mon Reg, drop me off will you?” he ran his hand through his hair agitatedly and Regulus reached up to fix it because while some looked cool with a slightly messier look, Barty looked like he had just been attacked by a wild pygmy puff. 

“Aw, is he going to read you a bedtime story too?” Dorcas cooed.

“We’re gonna go make out, how’s it going with you and Marlene by the way? Last I saw she was-.”

He was swiftly cut off by a quill to the back of the head.

“You know being defensive isn’t really helping your case,” Regulus said lowly once they reached the empty corridor.

Barty was quiet as he dragged his feet across the flagstone, “I just- Evan hasn’t been around much and I guess that’s thanks to Nico.”

“Yeah but that’s not either of their faults is it? What happened to your girlfriend, Goldie, anyways?”

He huffed a humourless laugh, “We broke up, apparently I wasn’t ‘romantic enough’ can you believe that?”

Regulus pretended to be shocked but he wasn’t in the slightest. Barty didn’t even think it was relevant enough to mention that they had broken up but had gotten argumentative when Evan left the table. His priorities were clearly a bit out of order.

He dropped Barty off with a supportive pat on the back, turning back around and going the way he came when he heard voices as he came upon a corner which was odd considering curfew started in about ten minutes and prefects were about to start their patrols. He immediately slowed down before approaching, only going so far as to peek around to see what was happening.

He saw Snape first, face contorted with anger as he held his arm out. No, he was holding something, a shift and Regulus could see he was holding someone in place. 

The girl he was holding tried to shake him off but he didn’t let go and the girl didn’t need to move her curtain of red hair for Regulus to know who it was.

“You’re too good for them,” he hissed, his voice gravelly and reverberating off the walls, “No one knows you like I do.”

“Yeah? I thought you knew I was a mudblood , wouldn’t want to get infected by me huh?” she spat the slur, swatting at his hand with her other.

He surged forward, pushing her against the wall and leaned in close, his long black hair falling onto hers, “You’re different. I need you Lily, we need each other .”

“You’re drunk! Let me go!” her voice was louder now but everyone was tucked up in their dorms and by the time the prefects came around…

He didn’t let her go and Regulus watched in disgust as he continuously tried to get closer but kept getting pushed away by Lily who was holding her own as a capable witch but Snape used his sheer size to overpower her.

Before he knew better, he grabbed his wand and stepped around the corner, “She said no .”

Snape turned to him, fury in his black eyes and he was practically frothing at the mouth, his robes stained as he reeked of alcohol, “Fuck off Black, this is none of your business.”

He cocked his head, “You made it mine when you decided to attack her in the corridor.”

“I didn’t attack her,” he growled, looking like a feral animal and before he could get a word in, Snape pulled his wand out and shot at Regulus, firing off a hex that lit the otherwise dark corridor red.

Maybe Bellatrix’s lessons were worth it because he quickly dodged and fired back in a single move.

Snape deflected and let go of Lily to focus entirely on him.

She ran out of the hallway and he didn’t blame her, he’d want to get as far away from Snape as possible too.

They quickly devolved into a duel, rapidly firing hexes that were not entirely school-appropriate but it wasn’t like Regulus was being unfair because Snape was shooting hexes he’d never heard of before. What Snape lacked for in dexterity, he made up for it with complex spells in which some of  the incantations weren’t even in Latin.

“You never know when to leave well enough alone,” he snarled, circling around Regulus who matched his fighting stance.

“Clearly you don’t either,” he retorted quickly, which only served to enrage Snape more.

They shot next at the same time, Snape missing entirely but Regulus snagging Snape on the shoulder, a harsh crack echoing out. Regulus smiled, knowing he had just won as Snape’s now broken arm bent at an odd angle.

Right when Snape geared up to continue, fast footsteps approached them and they were faced with McGonagall who immediately disarmed both of them and led them to her office. 

Lily was trailing them, her face still red with her encounter with Snape and at one point, she had jinxed Snape’s shoelaces together, causing him to fall forward on his face up the staircase. 

Neither he nor McGonagall found that funny but Lily and Regulus managed to share a look and silent laugh at his misery that was brought on entirely by his own actions. 

_____

“What are you doing here?” He heard that first thing when he walked into the trophy hall.

“Hello dear brother of mine, nice to see you too,” he drawled, twisting the rag he’d been given by Filch between his fingers 

“Since when did you get detention?,” Sirius asked, walking past the shelves stacked full with medals and trophies up to him. His boots made his steps loud in the hall and where Regulus’ clicked, the dragonhide leather still crisp, his thunked, the yellow laces stained and the edges scuffed.

His mother hated those shoes, always trying to throw them in the fire or just vanishing them but Sirius always showed up with another pair, even dirtier and more used than the last.

“Is this because of what happened with Lily?” another voice asked, James, standing up from where he was crouched behind a shelf, apparently very dedicated to his cleaning.

“Yes,” he answered, jaw clenched before moving to the far wall, hoping that this detention passed quickly though Filch seemend hellbent on ensuring they spent the entire hour, maybe more, in here.

“But you didn’t do anything, ” James argued from behind Sirius.

“Yes, well apparently duelling in the halls is in bad taste.”

The tension in the air was practically tangible.

Just yesterday James had Regulus pinned to a tree, kissing him unapologetically, making him weak in the knees despite the fact that he was his best friend’s brother. 

Sirius on the other hand was a complete enigma, his attitude towards Regulus remaining largely unchanged openly but he still kept the postcard, rereading the words and wondering why he had even left it in the first place. He wondered if James knew about it. He wouldn’t date bring it up though, him and Sirius weren’t quite good at the whole ‘emotions’ thing. 

The only sound filling the room was the glass squeaking against the cloth and soap solution they were using to clean them.

“Did she owl her?” Sirius asked, sidling up beside him though keeping his eyes resolutely away as though connecting their eyes would breach some sort of nonexistent boundary.

“No.”

He loosed a breath.

“After the holiday you…” he trailed off.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“But what happened? You just-”

“Sirius, drop it,” he bit out.

Despite the fact that he didn’t want to talk about it regardless, he couldn’t help but feel ashamed that a part of it, arguably the worst part, was what happened after Walburga found out that he had been in Sirius’ room. He was unable to let go of the child within him that yearned for his older brother who didn’t care much in return, at least not enough to stay.

It was a horrible and bitter thought, something he shouldn’t hold over Sirius’ head but he couldn’t help it.

“I told you to stay for the holiday.”

“You know that doesn’t work.”

“You could’ve at least tried.”

“There’s a lot of things I could have done.”

“Yeah there are,” Sirius finished with a cutting undertone, almost as though he was blaming Regulus for something.

“Do you have something you want to say?” Regulus finally spoke up, turning to face Sirius fully, having had enough of the dance they were currently doing around each other.

“I just think if you weren’t such a kiss up to mummy, you wouldn’t be in this position,” he replied, turning back to Regulus with a vexed expression.

“Think about what you’re saying. If I was such a kiss up would she have a reason to hex me? It wasn’t even her, not fully at least.” he shot back, gritting his teeth and feeling familiar sparking at his fingertips.

Sirius’ eyes widened and he dropped the cloth he had been using back in the bucket, “What does that mean?”

“It’s family stuff, you wouldn’t understand,” he snarked back.

“Low fucking blow Reg,” he spat, walking away and putting much-needed distance between them.

It’s like whenever he and Sirius interacted, it had to end in a fight. There was no way for them to ever come to a mutual solution or agree to disagree- they just continued insulting each other until one of them cracked and left, allowing the anger between them to continue brewing until their next spat.

He had to admit that Sirius didn’t have the full story, not anymore, so he didn’t know what had gone on at Grimmauld or his lessons with Bellatrix. He could only go off of memory and assume what it was like but at the same time, he still had a warped view of Regulus- like he was some goody two shoes begging for their mum’s love and attention.

Of course he was ashamed to admit that there were times that he was desperate for it but he wasn’t entirely who Sirius thought he was either.

And Regulus never rushed to correct him or fill him in on the exact details, just continued to let Sirius believe what he wanted and stayed quiet on the truth, not wanting to tell him out of some sort of misguided principle.

Why was he even here anyways?

He sighed as he scrubbed the glass in front of him until he could see his own reflection in it.

He rubbed the side of his head where his hair was still too short for his liking, the complete opposite of Sirius’ which hung around his shoulders in loose waves, the prominent streak of white now lost among the mass of black locks.

A while later, James ended up next to him, as per usual.

“Lily wanted to thank you for helping her, she just hadn’t gotten a chance to” James whispered, washing his cloth loudly in the soap solution in the bucket at his feet and sloshing around the water to cover his voice.

“She doesn’t need to,” he replied evenly, still coming down from the argument with Sirius.

“He’s just in a bad mood because of an argument he got into with Pete, he’s the reason we’re in here anyways. We got caught after hours because he left his homework in the greenhouses,” James explained, already answering his mental question. 

“You don’t need to cover for him, I know Sirius well even if it doesn’t seem like it,” Regulus corrected with a pointed look. He ensured his tone wasn’t rude, never wanting to misplace his anger on James which he tended to do often because he deserved better than that.

He longed to be deserving of James but he wasn’t sure that was possible, he may already be too far gone.

Before they had gotten a chance, a yelp sounded in the corner of their room and they turned to see Peeves flying through the hall, upturning the bucket of soap solution on Sirius’ head before making a quick escape through the wall leaving cackling laughter in his wake. 

Neither James or Regulus could contain their laughter at the sight, Regulus trying and failing to hide his grin behind his hand.

“Merlin you look like Snape,” James laughed, doubling over and Regulus admired the reference because it was terribly accurate.

“Not funny Prongs,” Sirius said with a pointed finger. “Cover for me?” he asked desperately, his hands already picking at his hair. 

James nodded, waving him away and turning back.

The moment he left, James turned his attention back to Regulus, that familiar heat brewing in him and spreading outwards and pulling Regulus under its allure.

“James,” he whispered, not even remembering to call him by his surname.

“Regulus,”- an inch closer.

“We shouldn’t” he said in a moment of restraint- truly he deserved a medal for the way he tried to hold back despite every bone in his body begging him to move forward.

“But?” he whispered hopefully.

Regulus knew it was no use fighting the inevitable- he surged forward, grabbing James by the collar and pulling him down and towards him, connecting their lips so hard their teeth knocked together but neither of them complained, instead shifting to ensure they stayed connected.

James hands went to his sides, past the thick black outer robes and straight over his white collared shirt, the material so thin he could feel each of James’ fingers curl around his waist in desire. 

“Don’t run away again,” James pulled back just enough to breathe, “Please.”

The pure want in James’ voice, the way he begged, settled onto Regulus like a cloak and he spun then around so James was leaning against the shelves and he was in control, guiding their movements as his hand went up to James’ neck, wrapping around it and pushing into the warm sensitive skin there. He slipped his tongue into James’ mouth who quickly welcomed it and matched the movements, a move that loosened a keening noise from the back of Regulus’ throat.

The noise invigorated James who, in an effort to swap positions, tripped over the bucket that was next to them and sent them both slipping right into the exact shelf they had been leaning against.

It fell to the floor in a great smash, shards of glass flying outwards and sending centuries old trophies flying to the ground, probably denting them as well.

They only had a moment to gape at each other before Filch came running in, a sleeping Mrs. Norris clutched in his arms, “What happened!”

“We were- uh- fighting,” James explained, gulping audibly and looking incredibly guilty.

They accepted their detentions with their tails between their legs as they sat cross-legged next to each other on the floor trying to fix the dents on the metal that was far too soft.

He knew Muggles used ‘plastic’ a lot, something he learned from Pandora, perhaps they should start making trophies out of that.

Though neither he nor James spoke, they kept looking at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking.

What would have happened had Sirius not left? Surely they wouldn’t have kissed but when would the next time have been? It was so soon after their initial kiss since being back that it only made sense to do it again.

Or perhaps Regulus was just making a poor attempt at trying to rationalise what they were doing.

Both of them knew they were walking a thin line, a tightrope in which one wrong move could send them hurtling towards a world of hurt and yet they were still taking that risk, walking further across that rope and holding each other's hands, accepting that if they fell, they would do so together.

Chapter Text

It was at breakfast when James’ next note appeared.

Barty was under the impression that adding spider eyes and turtle shell to a Weakness poison was meant to neutralise it when in fact, it made the potion even more potent and so Regulus, unable to ever be wrong, decided to pull his textbook from his bag just to prove to him that he was right.

He slid the book over to him and Evan while he and Dorcas continued talking about their upcoming quidditch match against Hufflepuff.

While Barty flipped to the relevant section, a small slip of paper jumped out as though deeming this the perfect moment to make its’ appearance.

Regulus saw it in his peripheral vision and turned slowly to it and while Barty and Dorcas remained oblivious, Evan had seen it and was now eyeing it with curiosity.

Regulus’ hand twitched just as he was about to make a grab for it but Evan snagged it first, eyes flicking up to Regulus in silent question.

He tried his best to remain neutral but his heart was pounding in his chest as Evan’s bright blue eyes twinkled with curiosity. A sight he’d seen in Dumbledore’s eyes many times, a sign that he knew more than you did and was happy to let you remain in the dark. 

Whatever panic he’d seen in Regulus’ face must have outweighed his curiosity though because Evan just kicked his foot under the table and passed it there, their hands fumbling before the exchange had been made but once it was done, Regulus immediately pulled back and shoved the note in the bag, waiting until later to put it in the pocket containing all the others.

He’d never told anyone about his nightly activities nor would he ever if he had any say. He especially would never tell them anything that had transpired between him and James, three times by his count. He wasn’t exactly sure what their reaction would be but he knew for sure that it would not be a positive one.

Evan smiled plainly at him before turning back to what Barty was saying and Regulus just nodded, turning back to Dorcas as though nothing happened.

He flicked his eyes up and looked through his eyebrows at James whose nervous eyes locked onto his before going back to Sirius only to return again, a merry go round. He had a small hidden smile on his lips though it was sheepish and he knew he had probably seen the whole interaction.

How no one had noticed how obvious James was, was beyond him. 

He read the note in Potions and made it a point to make James make their potion for the day while he frowned at him.

“In all fairness, I sent that letter to you last night , it’s not my fault you were irresponsible and not doing homework,” he reasoned, stirring their potion clockwise.

Regulus groaned and took the stirrer from him, mixing it counterclockwise as they were supposed to. James was more than happy to watch him work then. 

“Why do you still send notes anyway? I feel like we moved past that,” Regulus questioned, peeved that he was doing the work again. 

“I like them, they’re nostalgic.”

“Ah yes back when we hated each other so much that we couldn’t speak to each other?” Regulus joked. 

“Mhm Let's hope we never get to that point again,” he mused.

He thought about the note for the rest of the day-

Reg,

Lake tomorrow night 10PM

P.S. This is mandatory!

James

Last time he checked the lake remained iced over. It had thinned a bit but it was by no means ready for swimming and as history indicates, when they weren’t swimming they were…getting closer. They hadn't had the lake as an excuse to touch, to move closer than they ever would have before, to talk about things he didn’t even speak to his own friends and wondered what it might mean if that were changed now.

A thread between them had time to weave into each of their cores, tightening and tightening until it either solidified or snapped.

Regulus wasn’t sure he could handle either.

He crumpled the letter back up and shoved it in his bag as he got ready, heart already beating a wild rhythm in his fragile ribcage.

____

“So what was so urgent that we had to meet tonight?” Regulus asked, curling his legs up, already defrosting under James’ warming charm as he approached. He eyed the red quilt that had been set up but would gladly take not having a wet arse tonight from the dewy grass and sat atop it. That didn’t mean he found the word ‘GRYFFINDOR’ and the various lions depicted all around it particularly tasteful.

“Well I couldn’t wait,” he said jumpily, turning back to Regulus.

He had a giddy energy that was starting to rub off on Regulus who felt nervous as well, “Are you going to make me wait or?”

James just turned towards the Lake and as Regulus turned, he saw James move in his peripheral and a stone hit the surface of the water and where it should have stopped, it went right through with a small splash, not even the slightest bit of resistance present.

He snapped back to James who was grinning as he moved, pulling at the sleeves of his robes, “How did you…?”

“I may have asked McGonagall for a little assistance on melting the ice on top of the lake, for our lessons of course,” he finished with a flourish of his hand between them.

He didn’t know whether he should even feel excited anymore as dread slowly replaced the earlier giddiness that had rooted itself within him.

“Wow,” was all he mustered up, along with a half-hearted smile that was like a wet match compared to James’ fiery grin.

“Right, I didn’t think she’d actually do it,” he said before turning back to him, his smile dropping at the look on his face, “I know this is a lot to surprise you with though and you’re probably not all too happy about it, so I’ve brought us something else.”

He dragged a clearly heavy wicker basket over to them, setting it between them, before unwrapping the bow across it and lifting one of the flaps on top.

He reached in, elbows-deep, and began pulling out bowls and plates and cutlery followed by slightly larger trays and serving bowls, laying them all out around them as though they were at a table in the dining hall.

“Is this…a picnic?” Regulus asked slowly, lifting up a cloth to reveal a dish of rice with some sort of spice atop it.

“Astute observation,” James commended.

“We just had dinner,” Regulus responded, his palms already sweating and stomach churning.

“Well all there was today was salad and something that was supposed to be chicken but you can’t tell me that was appetising, it tasted like nothing. I have something better for us,” he finished with a wink once he finished setting everything out and even straightening the quilt they were on for good measure. It looked like a scene that was meant to be on a magazine cover for Witch’s Weekly- summer edition. 

“How did you even…why,” Regulus couldn’t wrap his mind around what possessed James to do this, why he’d go through all this effort when there wasn’t exactly any sort of payoff. He didn’t even want to imagine how annoyed the elves were at having to make all this just for James anyways.

Though a single smile from him would likely have them tripping over their feet to help him.

“Since being home I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit homesick here and I figured you might want to try some of my favourite food as well, now first,” he moved, slowly lifting the covers off of every dish, “Here is some rice, there I’ve got aloo keema- beef and potatoes, there is chicken makhani- probably the simplest thing here, and this is naan- the bread to eat it with. In case you don’t like any of these, I’ve brought some sandwiches and crisps. I didn’t compromise on the drinks however, because I’ve got sweet lassi for us.”

Regulus stared, dumbfounded, at all the food in front of him. He didn’t think he had ever seen any of these dishes before, not even the sandwiches that were piled high with fillings and sauces. The drinks were in tall glasses and white in colour though it was blended with ice, giving it a sort of slushy consistency. James was already taking a large gulp of that, the liquid dripping down the corner of his mouth when he finished.

“This is…a lot,” was all he could say. He didn’t mean to sound ungrateful but it was hard to keep his tone in check as James put all this on him out of nowhere. He wasn’t exactly the most ‘go with the flow’ sort of person, he much preferred overthinking just about every scenario, then doing it again for good measure.

“It’s too much isn’t it- I knew it was, I just saw you haven’t been eating much at meals and I wanted to do something- they always say I go overboard-” James began rattling, already recovering the food and the display made Regulus’ heart wrench.

“No! It’s not too much at all, I was just- surprised,” Regulus finished, trying to save them both. “It’s lovely, er- I’ll just get some of this then,” he reached over to grab a spoon before scooping a small bit of rice on his plate.

He was glad that he had the earlier injury to blame his hand trembling because he was truly terrified at the moment. He had heard James’ comment about him not eating at mealtimes and he couldn’t fathom how James had noticed but he couldn’t exactly claim otherwise.

It was just that the habit of ‘not eating’ he’d gained at home carried over into him at school. Every time he reached for another spoonful of food, he felt his mother’s hand on his leg or her cutting voice in his ear telling him to stop. Anytime his trousers were a bit looser in the morning- he enjoyed it rather than thought about feeling concerned.

He was rapidly losing control of his life, as the winter holiday reminded him, and especially with OWLs coming up, he was more stressed than ever, and food seemed to be the only thing he could control.

He arrived late to mealtimes and left early and didn’t eat if he had a say in it, claiming to his friends he’d already eaten or would stop by the Kitchens later. 

Food had gone from a source of comfort to one of disdain and here James was, putting it in front of him with a kind smile and bright eyes. Just as he had done with the Lake, trying to transform it from his nightmare into something he should enjoy.

Evan James had managed to transform himself from Regulus’ greatest enemy into someone he…cared for.

He watched James take his fill and settle the plate in his lap before eating, savouring each bite and Regulus had to admit it looked delicious. The fragrant smell of herbs and spices filled their little bubble making the food look ten times more appetising. 

He took a perfunctory bite, putting a bit of everything on his spoon before trying it and immediately the flavour exploded in his mouth, completely foreign but not at all unwelcome as he chewed the tender chicken and tasted the rice. 

“Oh my gods,” he disbelievingly said around a mouthful, “This is amazing, I’ve never tried anything- oh it’s a bit- spicy,” he coughed out.

James laughed, unaffected by the flames he’d apparently added in the food that were burning down Regulus’ mouth and throat, “You get used to it, the lassi helps though,” he nudged his glass over.

He was right and he had to suppress a moan at the cool drink dousing the flames within him and replacing it with a creamy sweet taste.

James watched Regulus eat with curiosity and trepidation, making sure each bite was as good as the last one but he didn’t even have to pretend to enjoy it.

James ate his own food with the naan, eating with his hands in a way Regulus had never seen. Even as a child, his mother would slap his and Sirius’ hands if their hands ever touched their plate, much less their food. She deemed it lower class and ill-mannered, yet here James looked effortless, enjoying the food more than Regulus likely was.

Boldly, he took a piece of the naan and mirrored James’ motions, using it to scoop up his food and he was failing spectacularly- pushing the food around rather than actually getting it on his folded bread. When he managed a piece of chicken, he ended up dropping it on the front of his robes, leaving him with a soggy piece of bread.

“It’s hard to get a hang of it, don't worry,” he smiled, then went down to prepare another bite for himself. It shocked Regulus when he held his hand out for him, “Here.”

Regulus stared at his outstretched hand, was he meant to grab it out of his hands? His question was answered when James leaned in closer, guiding his hand directly to Regulus’ mouth.

He slowly opened his mouth and James fed him, his lips just brushing the edge of his fingers with the motion. James’ eyes were glued to the point of contact and he held his hand there for just a moment longer as Regulus bit down and pulled away.

“Good?” he whispered, voice hoarse.

Regulus just nodded, looking away, trying to focus on the food and suppressing the urge to devour James next, “I didn’t even know the elves could make something like this.”

“They didn’t, I did,” James replied, looking out across the crystal clear surface of the Lake, “They let me use the Kitchens after lunch, they just made me promise I wouldn’t break anything. I did, of course, but they weren’t mad.”

Regulus couldn’t quite contain his awe, “You… made all this? I don’t know why I’m even surprised, of course you can,” he added to himself more than anything.

James continued speaking as he extended his hand for Regulus once more, a habitual action not needing a second thought,

“Most of my memories as a kid are with my parents in the kitchen, mum always insisted on making everything herself and she always let me help. It’s how I got this scar,” he turned over his other hand to show Regulus a thin scar stretching from the tip of his pinky finger down to its’ base, “Mum made me use these special knives after that didn’t work well but are probably why I have all my fingers,

“When dad came home, he’d always find us there and would talk to us about his day, our day, and anything new going on all while he drank his tea. Even when I grew up or went to Peter’s for the day, I’d always come back and we’d talk there- we had a little wooden table in the corner where our cat, I have a cat, would lay on because it had the perfect patch of sun. We all had our own assigned seats there and we’d chat,”

“I made this because my mum’s food is the best, if I'm being honest. When I was sick, she made me my favourite food and fed me with her hands, it tasted better that way. You know, I’d always know what food she was making based on what I could smell when I woke up and I knew what kind of day it’d be. Anytime I woke up and didn’t smell anything, I had to get up and check on them just to make sure.

“Food reminds them of home and reminds me of them. It’s why I made food for us, for you . I suppose I just wanted to share a piece of me with you, I can only hope you accept,” he trailed off, eyes bright as his throat bobbed.

Regulus was in tears by the end, his vision blurring as though he was swimming in the sea of James’ memories, getting pulled by the tide and spun around the same way James’ spun this tale of his childhood.

It wasn’t just the way he spoke but the fact that Regulus didn’t even really remember his childhood. He had bits and pieces, fragments he could try to stitch together but would fall apart anyways. He couldn’t think of a time he spoke to his mother about anything. He didn’t know her and she him. It was like a slap in the face to know that no matter how he tried to connect to her, it was a two way street that she didn’t care to traverse down.

The last words James said struck true, right in the section of his heart that had changed, shifted to accommodate James in it. The stress was enough to break him and yet, it set him alight at the same time. He couldn’t think of any other response than,

“I always will, accept you, I mean. I don’t think I could ever not. I’m- I’m the one who’s too much, I’m the difficult one, I’m the one that needs to ask you for acceptance,” he choked out.

James shifted, encasing Regulus’ smaller hand within his own larger one as he sat directly across from him, “I already have.”

He brought Regulus’ hands up to his lips and brushed a kiss across his knuckles, a move that was arguably more intimate than anything they have done before, heightened by the words he spoke.

Regulus never felt accepted, his friends only a rare exception and even then he sometimes doubted them because he never felt worthy of them. He had grown up being told he wasn’t enough, a sentiment only reinforced throughout the years, drilled into him as though it were fact and yet James, who was the best person he had ever known, accepted him through all their trials and tribulations.

In that moment, Regulus felt something within him settle. The butterflies that fluttered in his stomach when James was near, the stampede that trampled through his chest daily- everything within him calmed and quieted as James’ assurance washed over him.

He had been so scared of this , of growing to care for him that he had built up his mental walls, reinforcing them anytime he saw James in his quidditch uniform or next to him in Potions because he unfortunately looked good all the time. The idea of Sirius finding out was enough to paralyse him because he was sure he’d lose his head instantly and watching James’ nerves that day in the forest only reinforced that idea.

Yet those three words erased his worries as surely as the sun sets and the moon rises, the moon that had remained a spectator to them for all of these weeks together. Who had seen cities rise and dynasties fall, seen him tiptoe to Sirius’ room at night to climb into Pandora’s bed years later. Who knew him more than most others could claim.

“We’re not done yet,” James whispered, squeezing his hand before setting it down and reaching into his basket once more to pull out a final dish.

He pulled out a small glass bowl containing two dough balls doused in a rose scented syrup. They were the colour of James’ eyes and Regulus was instantly tempted.

“Gulab jamun, I only have one because Dipsy in the Kitchens ate the other one,” he smiled then dug in with a spoon.

He gave his first spoonful to Regulus before serving himself.

He finally spoke again, “I’m not going to ask you about your eating habits nor will I force you to speak. I just hope you can take care of yourself, for you. Just because your friends or anyone else doesn’t say anything doesn’t mean we’re not concerned. I’m sure they just want to respect your privacy as I do after the holiday.”

“I’m fine,” he urged immediately, wanting to pull back and shield himself as he was so used to doing.

James was quicker though, his hand a grounding touch on his bent knee, “I know you are but it’s okay if you’re not,” he voiced before moving back to touching the barely visible scar on his chin.

He dropped his hand down to Regulus’ arm where he had rolled his sleeves up so they wouldn’t get caught in the food. Regulus watched him trace a golden finger across his silver scars, his complement in every way, that banned across his arm. Some were cruel and jagged lines while others were precise and clean cuts, courtesy of his cousins.

While one hurt him, the other healed him, another cycle none of them would escape.

Regulus simply allowed him this exploration of his skin, the heat trailing behind his finger burning deep in his core, the blood in his veins humming at his touch and begging for more.

He studied the open collar of James’ shirt, the opened buttons allowing him a peek of the smooth skin of his collarbone, the slight bone catching the moonlight and casting a shadow in the dip Regulus yearned to touch, to kiss.

He eyed the column of his neck, wondered what it would taste like now and his breath quickened- he couldn’t calm it if he tried.

“I think I’ve touched you enough to remember what marks you do and don’t have,” James whispered, his hand a ghost of a touch on his arm.

Regulus surged forward then, practically jumping on James as he kissed him, ignoring the clinking of glass all around him in favour of tasting the sweet syrup on his lips- he wanted to drown in it.

James welcomed him immediately, wrapping his arms around Regulus and pulling him closer and when their knees knocked, Regulus took initiative and climbed into his lap, straddling him and relishing in the feeling of James’ strong legs underneath him.

Regulus wound his arms around James’ head, pushing his fingers into his hair and scratching just slightly at the nape of his neck, eliciting a low groan from James that had him moving, kissing a trail from his lips down Regulus’ neck, their difference in height allowing him access to the slim pale column of his neck.

Regulus turned his head to allow him access and ghosted his breath across the crest of James’ ear, and when James kissed just in the hollow of his throat, he couldn’t help the gasp that escaped him and clamped down on James’ neck, biting and sucking at the skin there. 

James hands, which had respectfully been at his sides, latched onto Regulus’ sides, his fingers curling in and gripping him, keeping him in place and Regulus just leaned forward, pushing their chests flush together as he made quick work on James shirt, his hand fumbling between them as he unbuttoned it.

He pulled back a moment to see the toned expanse of his chest in stomach, a sight he had been wanting to see since he saw James walk out of the gryffindor locker room almost two years ago, his top sweat-slicked to his skin already revealing toned abs that had only improved with age.

His skin was burning hot to the touch and warmed Regulus’ hands instantly as he trailed a slim finger down from his neck to his navel and up again. James’ hands tensed the lower he got and released when he went back up. The tension in James’ body didn’t go unnoticed by Regulus, from his legs to his arms, he was a bow pulled taut and Regulus wanted him to release it, to concentrate this energy into him.

James’ calloused fingers skimmed the hem of his top, touching the skin around his hips and he kissed further down his neck reaching his own collar, inhaling deeply as though savouring his scent before pressing his wet lips against the skin there as well. 

Being with James was as much a physical effort as it was a mental one. It was overwhelming how addicting he was and Regulus couldn’t help but focus on how their lips matched and their bodies moved in sync with one another.

He couldn’t get over what James had done for him tonight, how he’d opened up to him in a way he might never have to anyone before and managed to unwrap Regulus.

He’d faced each and every barrier with ease and managed to deconstruct them, brick by brick, until he saw Regulus within and despite all the challenges to get there, he still liked what he saw, still desired it.

“Regulus,” James gasped, pulling back to look up at him.

As Regulus looked down at him, he brought a hand up to push James’ unruly curls aside so that he could see him clearly, not wanting to miss a moment.

“We have to stop or else we might do something we regret,” he whispered.

“I wouldn’t regret it,” Regulus replied, slightly hurt at the insinuation that he would.

When he made to push away however, James’ fingers only tightened, “I think we’ve already established I wouldn’t either, but you deserve better than a quilt outside by the lake,” he huffed.

“I don’t even deserve this.”

“You deserve this and more.”

Regulus tilted his head back to look at the stars, in awe and disbelief of how he had been brought to this point, at every decision and question that he’d had and raised that connected the universe’s dots to this point.

His eyes sought out Sirius, just as it always did, and it twinkled proudly in the sky above them, truly earning its name as the brightest star in the sky.

A ghost of a memory brushed past him, past his fingers that were still absently nestled in James’ hair and he looked down at James, tilting his head to look back up at him.

Regulus still remained in his lap, eyeing a tuft of his hair behind his ear and moved his hands to it, brushing through the rest of James’ hair with the movement. He didn’t think he could ever get tired of stroking his deceivingly silky locks. 

He pulled apart three strands and began to braid the pieces together, watching the golden and brown strands blend together in a small plait.

“I used to braid Sirius’ hair when we were young. I had only managed it a couple times before mum realised and she’d shave it. By the time he grew it out long and kept it that way, it had already been too late for us,” he whispered absently, “I thought I’d forgotten how to do it till now.”

“A piece of me for a piece of you,” James whispered, referring to the food around them and now this memory.

They were building up their stories of each other, glimpses into who they were away from everyone else and how they’d become the person they are today.

He knew now that James was irrefutably the most beautiful person he’d ever met.

He used to hate that beauty, the pull he had on others and now here he was, just as hopelessly lost as everyone else that met him was. He wasn’t so sure why he had tried fighting the inevitable for so long.

“I wanted to go in the lake today,” James whispered, eyes flitting to the Lake behind them.

“Let’s go in then,” Regulus whispered in a moment of bravery, high just by being in James’ presence, the scent of spices still clinging to his skin and washing over Regulus as their bodies remained close.

As Regulus pulled away, moving to clean up their mess, James pulled out two identical swimming costumes.

“I knew you wouldn’t have brought one so,” he shrugged, clearly having thought of everything.

They changed with their backs to one another, Regulus peeking over twice just to ensure James wasn't looking…and so he could sneak a look just as James was pulling his shirt off, letting it drop down his arms as the muscles of his back flexed and pulled.

He wasn’t as scared this time as he was every time before he was faced with the Lake, even at the beginning of tonight he was terrified but now, he felt nothing but intrigue. While the Lake had not changed, he had, and he allowed his fear to transform into curiosity about what it might be like to experience it through James’ lens for it was as integral to him as the food was.

“How do you feel?” James asked, indicating that he was done changing and Regulus turned and thought about how to reply.

“Okay, I think,” he said honestly.

The other boy smiled, reaching a hand out, letting it hang in the distance between them before Regulus moved to close it and grasped it, their fingers interlocking and holding.

They stepped toward the lake together, taking synchronous steps until they reached the shore where James stepped in and Regulus hesitated.

He had drowned in it, fought James in it, fallen face-first into it, had gone so far that almost his entire body was under the water and yet he still hesitated. Perhaps a part of him knew that he wasn’t afraid of the possibility anymore because it had already happened, he was changing and it terrified him.

He stepped forward, the sand beneath him going from grassy to gritty to smooth sludge and he continued onwards, accepting it and clinging to James.

While James was helping him and he needed him here, Regulus needed to do this for himself, needed to conquer this fear to prove that he could overcome it.

He wanted to prove that he wasn’t entirely useless.

James started talking about potential ideas he had for their Potions project, one he sort of forgot about already, and Regulus listened intently to each one, considering the ingredients, the viability of creating an anecdote, and so forth. He was distantly aware that after each idea, James took a step forward, on and on until the water hit his throat and he and James were just bobbing heads.

“You’re too good at that,” he grumbled.

“What?”

“Talking.”

“So I’ve been told,” he grinned before taking a deep breath, puffing his cheeks out, and going under.

Seconds passed and Regulus began fumbling around awkwardly under the water trying to feel for him until he burst back up, the water splashing onto Regulus as he flipped his hair side to side like a dog.

He scrubbed a hand down his face, “Refreshing.”

“I imagine,” Regulus commented, looking down. “Where do you think the squid is? I sort of forgot about him since last term.”

“Er- probably watching us and wondering how we’d taste,” James replied, looking down as though they’d see it.

“Like gulab jamun I’d say,” he joked and loved the way James’ eyes softened.

“Do you like French cuisine?” he asked genuinely, the water still dripping down from his hair, past his temples, brushing past a love bite Regulus managed to leave behind on his neck.

“I used to…things change.”

“They do,” he whispered though with a smile, looking at Regulus like he was the answer.

It was that look that gave him the courage to inhale deeply and bend his knees, going lower until he was fully underwater.

The feeling of being weightless took over, he felt like the water was holding him aloft, suspending him in time and space and he let his arms drift as he opened his eyes. He saw nothing beyond what was directly in front of him of course but he learned to stop being afraid of what might be in the dark.

He ran out of air rather quickly though and jumped up off the ground, breaking the surface and breathing deeply, gulping down hungry breaths, “Oh my gods, Merlin, and Hecate,” he gasped.

James laughed, clapping him on the back, “We really need to work on your lung capacity.”

“It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, you know?,” he admitted, jumping from foot to foot.

James grinned knowingly before dunking under the water once more and Regulus followed, excitement kicking the fear that had rooted itself in Regulus right out and taking root.

_____

He had only just fallen asleep when he felt himself being jolted awake.

He opened his bleary eyes to Pandora who stared down at him wide-eyed, “Dora?” he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

“Reg,” she hissed in a raised-whisper, her arms still shaking him.

“What happened?” he immediately asked, extracting her hands from him and holding them instead.

Watery grey light slanted in through the windows and into the bed, illuminating her and making her look more frightening than anything else. Like a corpse that had just been dug up and spontaneously reanimated with her pale skin and blue eyes now looking more grey than anything else. Her pupils were blown wide and she looked almost manic and sweat sheened on her skin. 

“Do you know how to swim?” she hissed and he almost wasn’t sure if he was still dreaming. 

“Do I- what? Yeah of course,” he responded, placing a heavy hand on her shoulder as he worked through whatever was happening with her, trying to remain calm. 

Her relief was palpable as she slumped, “I saw you- I had a vision, you were underwater, I didn’t know if you knew- it was dark, I was scared ,” she rushed out, pawing at his available skin to reassure herself of his presence.

He schooled his expression into one of calm but internally smiled, knowing she had likely just seen tonight only moments after it happened. Him, under the water, in the dark, it was obvious what had happened but he couldn’t say anything to her except words of comfort and reassurance that he was here, and perfectly fine.

He set her back down with slow hushes and played with her hair until she fell back asleep, facing towards him, neck curled down and arms turned inward, more relaxed than she had been moments earlier. Considering how fast she fell back asleep, he thought she might not have ever truly been awake, perhaps stuck in some sort of daze. 

He fell asleep moments after apparently not considering that the vision she had seen was of the future. That there may come a time that he was underwater in the dark and that time it would be he who was scared.

No, for whenever he swam, James would be there…of course he would be.

Chapter Text

“So I’ve asked you both to come here because I’d like to ask how your swimming lessons are faring for each of you,” McGonagall asked serenely, steepling her fingers in front of her and resting her chin atop them, a small smirking smile playing on her face.

Regulus could hear James’ audible gulp at the question but he remained silent because he wasn’t exactly sure how to go about it either. When the professor asked him to meet her at her office before dinner he figured he might be in trouble for something but was certainly shocked to see James waiting nervously to see her as well. 

“They’re er- going good, great actually,” James finally spoke up, his red shoes tapping against the floor in a random rapid beat and fingers drumming against the wooden armrest- he was the picture of anxiety.

“Good, good, Mr. Black would you say the same?” she asked then, turning towards him.

Well let’s see, because of these lessons he was now having romantic dates by the Lake in the moonlight, being hand fed food and snogged senseless just about every other day…

“They’re going fine,” he answered blandly, shoving all memories of James’ perfect lips far away from the forefront of his mind.

She nodded, humming, then opened a drawer and pulled out a metal tin. She lifted the lid to reveal an assortment of biscuits and pushed it towards them. 

He had the distinct feeling that she wanted more information and was trying to sweeten them up with the promise of treats but surely they were stronger than that.

James dove straight for a biscuit coated with sugar and he internally sighed.

“And your friends? How do they feel about this sudden arrangement?” she queried.

“No proble-.”

“I haven’t told them,” James said around a mouthful, crumbs littering his lap.

Regulus knew that was definitely not the answer she was looking for as she turned curious eyes onto him, “And why’s that?”

“Just er- you know, he’s…Regulus,” he replied, “Not that there’s a problem with him of course, in fact, he’s the opposite because he-”

“I asked him not to,” Regulus rushed out before James finished that sentence, probably revealing way too much information about either of them to their Transfiguration Professor.

She hummed then, considering, and Regulus knew she had some sort of angle here. He imagined she was using them as a sort of experiment on inter house relationships considering that at the moment, the number of those were zero, maybe one if looking at Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs- the more agreeable ones of the four houses.

“Slughorn told me that you two are partners in Potions, how has that been?” she segued.

“It’s going well,” Regulus answered again simply.

“I only ask because while unfortunate circumstances have brought us together, I do hope that relationships could be created or mended. And to be clear, I did not instruct Slughorn to put you two together but it seems you are getting along well with which I am pleased. I do hope you have been using the Lake to your advantage considering I went through quite a bit to get it charmed and ensure it stays melted.”

“Oh yeah, thanks again for that, it’s been great.”

She nodded, “Yes I hope so, I check on it every night.”

The silence and tension in the room was palpable then as James turned round eyes on Regulus and McGonagall just smiled at them, her eyes practically twinkling behind her glasses. Regulus just held his breath and hoped he just passed out before she continued speaking because if she checked it every night then…

“However, I do miss a few days every once in a while so I’m glad to hear it’s holding up.”

And just like that, the tension released once more and James apparently felt comfortable enough to go for another biscuit, a chocolate covered one this time.

“Well that was all I had to say, now go off to dinner before you miss it, goodnight to you both,” she finished standing up and James made sure to grab at least three more cookies before she smacked his hand with the lid and shut the box.

Once the door shut behind them, they both exhaled loudly, their bodies visibly slumping.

“That was terrifying,” Regulus sighed.

“Was it?” James asked as if he hadn’t just been on the verge of a breakdown in there.

“You are so bad at lying,” Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Good thing I have you around then, here,”James extended his hand to give Regulus a caramel-coated biscuit.

He wasn’t going to accept it but then James added, “C’mon, it’s your favourite.”

He paused, “How do you know that?”

“You basically told me,” James replied in a ‘obviously’ tone, continuing onwards down the corridor.

“Hmm I don’t recall ever mentioning that,” Regulus pointed out.

“You didn’t have to, at dinner whenever they put out caramel-flavoured desserts, you go for seconds but never when it’s anything else.”

Regulus internally cursed because how did he ever stand a chance at denying his feelings for James when he went on and said things like that, at noticing Regulus when he felt invisible most of the time.

It was only natural that he checked behind and in front of them before surging for James’ collar and pulling him down so that they could kiss. The sugar on his lips melted in the heat they created and sweetened Regulus’ tongue making his body beg for more.

“You’re sweet,” he mumbled, meaning it both literally and figuratively and James just laughed in reply, their teeths bumping together slightly.

“Is it bad that all I think about it kissing you,” James whispered, threading his fingers through Regulus’ hair now that it had grown out slightly.

“It is when we haven’t even picked a topic for our Potions project yet,” Regulus argued, pushing James away with a smack and continuing down the hallway even though he was the one that had initiated the kiss.

James’ groan practically echoed off the walls and Regulus was forced to agree.

“Tomorrow after classes, let’s meet in the Library and we’ll figure it out, yeah?” James proposed, reaching his hand towards Regulus and squeezing gently.

James offered and accepted touch so easily, it’s like he craved a physical connection to ensure he was on the same page with whoever he was talking to and it was, quite frankly, adorable. Regulus saw that the small braid he had done with James’ hair was still there and it warmed him, creating feelings he wasn’t sure he was capable of producing until then.

James had done it, had melted and broken down whatever icy walls Regulus had constructed around himself and Regulus was okay with that as long as it meant they could continue sharing these small moments together where it felt like they were the only two in the entire castle.

He nodded and squeezed back in answer.

_____

There was a silence even worse than when he was in McGonagall’s office as he stared down at James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter sitting all around the Library table, staring right back at him.

When James asked to meet in the Library, he didn’t think that he’d bring his entire posse with him. He was getting ready to fully turn around and leave when,

“Here,” Remus replied, followed by the sound of shuffling as he moved some parchments closer to him and cleared the area in front of the chair next to him.

“What’s going on?” Sirius asked slowly, drawing out each letter.

“Well Regulus and I still haven’t picked a topic for Potions so I figured we’d work on that while you three study for Charms, which he also happens to be surprisingly good at,” James reasoned, smiling from his spot across from Regulus.

Well he didn’t have to add the ‘surprisingly’ part but Regulus sat down nonetheless, pulling his trusty Potions textbook out with the hopes of being productive today.

They worked in silence for a few minutes before Sirius decided they should start working on the practical aspect of their Charms assignment.

“As long as we don’t explode anything, we’re fine, now we just have to focus on levitating our quills, it sounds easy enough,” Sirius spoke out before a hush fell over them and both James and Regulus paused to watch. Unfortunately, there was not much to watch besides three boys with rather constipated looking expressions and three quills that remained steadfastly on the table.

They held that for a few moments before Peter groaned, “I don’t even know why we’re trying, I asked McGonagall what would happen if I failed this exam and she said I could still pass as long as I don’t fail anything else.”

“Wormy, I thought we already had a talk about your giving-up-early mindset,” James chastised much like a mother hen and Regulus suppressed a laugh.

“I barely do magic right with a wand, how am I supposed to manage it without one,” he complained.

“If it makes you feel better, we’re all struggling,” Remus said, huffing.

“Visualising your magic helps…” Regulus commented as all their eyes turned onto him.

He fell silent, not wanting to elaborate as he looked back down on his book but suddenly he felt a light tap against his foot and looked up to see James with a small encouraging smile on his face and it gave him the push to continue, so long as he remained looking at Remus, his only other ‘safe’ person here.

“Picturing the quill isn’t enough, it helps to picture your magic moving towards the quill, sort of like invisible hands I guess, levitating it. After a couple tries you should get it,” he finished quietly and just as an example, he did exactly as he said and lifted Peter’s quill up to eye level before taking it a step further and resting it right on his head.

He looked slightly uncomfortable but he was sure it was just because of the display of magic and probably lingering feelings of confusion over why Regulus was even here in the first place.

Sure enough, his method worked after a couple attempts by all of them.

“Reggie has been doing wandless magic for years,” Sirius huffed like it’s some sort of bad habit but his tone held the distinct undertone of jealousy, “it’s creepy.”

“I’d say it’s impressive,” Remus nodded and Regulus thinned his lips in a small show of appreciation.

“Keep trying, it’ll work, I’m going to try to find another book that I think will help us Potter,” Regulus finished, standing up and heading to the stacks for a certain book by a Potioneer Slughorn once mentioned a few weeks ago.

He roamed around for a bit as he looked, taking the time to calm his racing heart as well at the turn of events. He didn’t imagine he’d be with the others today but it wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be, even Sirius’ comment wasn’t necessarily rude, more so lighthearted as he wished he could perform wandless and nonverbal magic like Regulus somehow could.

He found the book he wanted, a rather old but lovely leather-bound tome with gold lettering across the front, and he took it back with him as he smiled, seeing a bit of hope for him and them as he remembered McGonagall’s words about mending relationships-

“I’m just saying, I think you could still ask Slughorn about changing partners, I’m sure he’d understand considering you know-” Regulus heard Peter say just as he was about to turn the corner out of the stacks.

He paused just on the cusp and stepped back, peering at them through the books on the shelf that was eye-level with them.

“He’s a good partner though, our Potions come out great,” James just answered, playing with the rim of his glasses as he spoke.

“But you know how they are,” he emphasised the words, “I’m just saying have you checked his forearm lately,” Peter finished and the words were enough to make his blood boil.

He ground his teeth and he felt his face burn but he continued watching.

All of them remained silent, just staring at each other and considering Peter’s words as though they held merit and he wanted nothing more than to disappear but all of his books were there and he’d still have to face them at some point.

When the silence at the table became more than he could handle, he stepped out and they all looked down and focused on their work as they tried to school their expressions into one of neutrality.

The blatant disrespect was too much for him to handle, “While I appreciate the concern Pettigrew, my wrists are clean, not that it was any of your business in the first place and the next time you’re going to talk about someone behind their backs, make sure they’re more than five feet away,” he ground out, stuffing everything back in his bag and leaving.

He dropped the tome on the desk in front of Potter anyways and while he turned large eyes on him, it wasn’t enough to make him pause, it only propelled him further away.

This is why he preferred James on his own because all other people did was ruin their moments meant to be spent together.

He was rather pleased as he remembered Peter’s nickname was ‘Wormy,’ but he thought it should be something more akin to ‘Rat.’

______

Thankfully that evening, Pandora mentioned a certain party happening in Ravenclaw that was open to all and he was the first one to say yes much to everyone else’s pleasure. Although the one downside was that if there was one thing to know about Ravenclaw parties is that in exchange for all the booze, they required guests to adhere to a theme and tonight was ‘Muggle’ themed which was odd but quite easy to follow.

Pandora donned a short pink and orange bell-sleeved dress with bright pink tights to match. She wrapped her hair up in multicoloured wraps and had earrings that dangled all the way down to her shoulders though her shoes were the real stunner as they had her measuring at about Barty’s height with the thick platform under them. 

She was rather similar in size to Regulus which, while slightly embarrassing, came rather in handy when it came time to dress up as she shoved a pair of high-waisted bell-bottom denim on him along with a brightly coloured cropped waistcoat.

“Er Dora, I think you forgot to give me a shirt for this,” he poked his head out from the bathroom.

“Oh no, I didn’t give you one on purpose, now come on!” she cheered over the thumping of the music that could already be heard from the common room.

He took one last look at himself in the mirror before begrudgingly following her out feeling incredibly underdressed. If there was one thing about muggles, they had no issue with modesty considering the outfit he was wearing now and how it vastly contrasted with a normal pair of robes.

He followed Pandora down the short set of stairs to the common room, passing by couples that were clearly ready to get a head start on the night by heading back up to their dorms or younger years that were racing to get back to their room before getting yelled at by their older counterparts as they tended to be downers. Though it was funny to see as just last year they might have gotten turned away despite the fact that Slytherins tended to be quite loose with the rules anyways.

They saw Evan and Barty over the crowd quite quickly and while Evan was wearing a similar outfit to Regulus, Barty had gone all out with the flared trousers, cropped band shirt that revealed his entire midriff, and a big pair of black sunglasses perched right on his nose that had no business being there when it was already nearing midnight.

The Ravenclaws proved true to their sentiment of always having booze as charmed trays floated around the room being picked at by students like hungry vultures and they were no different, eagerly downing shots of some mysterious burning liquid.

Sometimes they liked to get a bit creative and mix different alcohols, turning them into toxic but effective potions.

The music thrummed through his system and slightly helped to drown out the alarm bells that had been ringing in his head since his little study session before dinner.

He wasn’t sure why the words had affected him so much but it just proved how little any of them trusted him to not become like Snape or Mulciber, the exact ones who terrorised him this entire year.

Again, he wasn’t blind to the happenings around him but he never wanted to receive the mark that was meant to be a ‘gift’ to Voldemort’s followers, especially not after hearing the way his parents and others spoke about him all break.

Even after Pettigrew’s stupid comment, the silence of those sitting at the table was deafening. Not a single one came to his defence, not Sirius who had lived with him and protested Voldemort so much that it had led to his disownment, not Remus who continued to see him in the greenhouses every Saturday where the cruellest thing he did was just make him dethorn the roses, and not James who…who knew him better than anyone else did.

And one comment from the Rat had them wondering whether it was all a farce and he had a mark tattooed on the skin of his inner forearm, marking him as a ‘death eater.’

The thought had him quickly reaching for another drink, the pressure in his head already beginning to lessen and become replaced with ecstasy.

Barty grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor before starting to dance with him, a move that started innocently but began to slowly devolve into something else, something that had them moving closer until their sweat slick skin was touching and heat was building between them.

Regulus never saw Barty in that way but he wouldn’t deny the purely physical chemistry that existed between them. It had started as an innocent enough crush in their first years at school together and they had shared a few secret kisses last year but they let that go quickly once Barty’s eyes strayed to Evan and stayed there, holding much more than just lust.

Despite that, Regulus was happy to lose himself to the music and the feel of a body against his own but the idea was doused when James floated to the forefront of his mind. James was slightly shorter than Barty, his shoulders broader, his hands larger. Barty’s fingers thrummed against Regulus’ side unlike James who always held him firmly, ensuring he never separated unnecessarily from him.

Every reminder of James was a shot downed until he felt as high as he usually felt around the other boy. While he knew alcohol wasn’t good solution to problems, he couldn’t quite deny that it sure felt damn good to avoid them in favour of drinking.

It was a shame he was a rather emotional drunk as the excitement from his high slowly morphed into tears building in his eyes in the middle of the dance floor. He was thankful that everyone was too distracted by their partner to notice him falling apart amongst them.

He slipped away once Barty turned away and went to the drinks table to begin making some horrible-tasting concoction of his own.

He wasn’t even sure why he was crying, it was just the embarrassment of it all that made him mad. He’d never get marked, he never wanted to be, but to be accused of it was heartbreaking and to see them all agree was a bitter pill to swallow and to be unable to speak about any of it only served to make him feel worse as if everything within him was just ready to burst. It was impossible to just put a lid on top of an exploding cauldron and his top was ready to pop off.

He could see his own reflection in the glass bottle he was currently tipping over into his cup and saw Sirius so strongly that it just made him angry.

He hated how much Sirius felt some times and so little other times- a constant tumultuous cycle their relationship was.

“Your head is full of wrackspurts,” he heard in his ear and turned to see Pandora.

“You know I don’t know what that means,” he grumbled before gagging after taking a sip of his drink.

She held her hands out to his face and cradled it as though he were a baby, “You worry too much.”

He just rolled his eyes and tried to extract himself but she held firm, “You know I love you right? And that I’ll always stand by you.”

She was always a rather emotional drunk too so he just nodded emphatically and the words seemed to please her slightly as she let him go and instantly disappeared into the crowd as if she had never been there anyway.

He went back to adding liquor into his cup, mixing and adding until he was just getting drunk which seemed to help dull his taste buds so it wasn’t too bad of a trade. He was having a rather good time, drinking and humming along to the music himself until he heard shouting on the other side of the room,

“Well I didn’t know there was a theme!”

“Then you can’t come in!” the other voice said.

“I just need to get something!”

“What is it?”

“Well it's a someone, I have to get someone!”

“ Well we don’t sell people here so!” The other voice sassed back and Regulus turned to see the door to the common room being shut harshly, the boy manning the door turning around so aggressively that his afro bobbed along with his head.

And as if apparating, Pandora appeared by his side once more and this time, instead of grabbing his head, she grasped his arm and dragged him through the crowd of people, either pretending to not hear or actually not hearing his protests. He was ready to vomit by the time she stopped in front of the doors to the common room.

She pulled them open and pushed them both out to reveal James leaning against the opposite wall absently kicking a small rock around. He looked up at their arrival with a relieved smile on his face though it was quickly wiped away as James’ eyes scanned hungrily down Regulus’ form.

“Your bouncers take their jobs too seriously,” James grumbled.

“Rules is rules, now go,” she said, waving them away like it was nothing.

Regulus wanted nothing to do with James at the moment so he was definitely considering this a betrayal, “What are you doing?”

She stepped up closer and whispered, “Regulus I know you better than I know anyone else and while I don’t quite know everything you’ve been up to, I do know that there’s something here and that it might be why you’re falling a little deeper into your cup today. And while he might be the reason you're hurting, I do also think he might be the one thing that helps you feel better. You have to remember to hold on to the good things in life,” she finished.

Gods today was too much.

She quickly left, leaving them both alone once more but while James opened his mouth to speak, Regulus wasn’t having any of it and began walking purposefully away though he didn’t really have anywhere to go so really, he was just going to keep walking until an idea came to him.

“Reg I-”

“I don’t care Potter.”

“Ugh not that again,” he groaned, using his horribly long legs to easily catch up to Regulus. “Look Pete doesn’t think before he speaks but he really didn’t mean what he said, he just thinks all Slytherins are the same.”

“Do you think we are?” he stopped suddenly and asked James.

“No of course not!” he protested vehemently, “I know you’re not like the rest of them.”

“Well I’m still a Slytherin so clearly I am like the ’rest of them.’ It’s why you haven’t told Sirius or anyone else about our swimming lessons, you’re clearly ashamed or whatever to be associated with me.”

James was ready to burst as he bounced on his feet, “I’m not ashamed to be with you, of course not I just-.”

Regulus waited as he stared at James, “You just-” he cut out.

When he didn’t reply he finished with a, “Exactly, that’s what I thought.”

“I didn’t want to ruin my chance,” James finished, the words coming out as though they were pulled from the very depths of his soul.

“You what?” Regulus asked, voice much lower now.

James looked around then quickly grasped Regulus’ hand and pulled him with him, clearly having more of an idea of where to go than Regulus did and he allowed himself to be dragged along, letting the walk clear the haze in his mind slightly.

They walked down the narrow staircase of the Ravenclaw Tower then down random hallways, up staircases, down some others, they ended up outside at one point, then finally ended up in front of a random dead-end wall.

James let go of his hand, much to Regulus’ begrudgement, and began to pace in front of the wall- once, twice, thrice.

“Er so am I-” Regulus began but froze when slowly the wall shifted to reveal a small door that James instantly grasped the handle to and pushed open.

Regulus gaped and James just grinned, “I present to you, the Room of Requirement,” he said before slipping in and holding the door open in invitation.  Regulus slowly followed and looked around the room in shock and astonishment as James shut and locked the door behind them.

He was met with a large room with a ceiling that was practically nonexistent as all he saw above him was the night sky- complete with a half moon and dozens of twinkling stars. Along one wall was a hearth with a fire already roaring within, casting the room in its’ golden right and warming it all at once. There were a few sofas in front of it stock full of colourful pillows and a small table in the middle with books piled atop it.

Behind the small sitting area was a large four-poster bed, bigger than any he’d ever seen before in a normal dorm with gauzy blue and purple fabric draped across the top. The bed was similarly decorated in pillows and it looked like a cloud with how thick the blankets folded atop it were. The room was full with the scent of jasmine as if it was James personified.

He kicked his shoes off right next to James and relished the feeling of the soft carpet under his feet, still so distracted by trying to take everything in that he hadn’t said a word yet to James.

He saw a doorway off to the left and imagined it was a bathroom if this room was anything like a normal dorm.

“What is this place?” he asked, turning in a slow circle.

“I found this room last year,” he whispered, coming closer to rest his hand on Regulus’ shoulders, slowly rubbing the skin there, “I was having a bit of a crisis let’s say and I was wandering the halls one time late at night and when I saw this doorway I just…walked in. No one else knows about it except me, Sirius, Pete, and Remus.”

“And me,” he whispered, still wondering why James had brought him here in the first place.

“Because I trust you, more than just about anyone else,” he whispered right in Regulus’ ear before pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear.

He pushed behind Regulus to guide them to the sofas and he spoke again, “I never told anyone about the lessons because I didn’t want to ruin my chance…with you.”

His chance? He couldn’t quite grasp what he was actually trying to say and for the first time, James looked genuinely terrified, as if he felt like Regulus did- an exploding cauldron readying itself to burst.

“What do you mean?” he urged, his knees brushing against James’.

“I’m…I can’t tell you.”

Regulus knew it was finally his turn to be the one that was ‘there’ for James the same way he was for Regulus, never pushing him to speak but showing that he was there for him regardless of the situation.

“You’re going to think I’m mad,” James whispered, looking up through his eyebrows at Regulus, his dark eyelashes blinking rapidly.

“Oh love,” Regulus laughed lightly, “I already do.”

James choked out a laugh that helped prompt him to speak, “In first year, all Sirius did was talk about you, I mean like nonstop, he couldn’t wait till you came to Hogwarts too and I always wondered what it was like to have a brother, if they were all as amazing as Sirius made you out to be.

“Then you showed up in our train car the next year, the biggest frown ever on your small face and silently stared out the window the entire time. I mean do you remember when I tried to introduce myself and all you said was “Don’t call me Reggie,” James laughed out, shaking his head at Regulus with nothing but pure affection in his eyes.

Gods, of course Regulus remembered meeting James. He’d called him ‘Reggie’ and he hated the nickname so much that’s all he said to James before staring out the window until Sirius kicked him out to keep from either swooning at James or kicking him in the face as he remembered he was supposed to hate the boy and his goofy glasses. 

He felt his face heat at the memory of his eleven year old self.

“And I just remembered you looked so much like Sirius that I wondered if you smiled, if you laughed like him too but I hadn’t quite managed that now did I? I saw a hint of a smile when you got sorted though and I knew I was wrong, you don’t smile anything like him. You helped confirm that after you got drugged with the laughing potion.”

Regulus remained silent as he listened to James but he kept a firm grasp on his hands, playing with his calloused fingers as he spoke, something that seemed to be a bit of a comfort for the both of him.

James had such a way of speaking so beautifully that it was like art, or perhaps he was a siren and he had made it his mission to lure Regulus by spinning his words in a way that made Regulus feel like he was on a boat being swept out by a stormy sea but he never wanted to leave, never wanted to be saved by some external force when he had the barest chance to be with James.

“But I saw it and I never got it out of my head but you clearly didn’t want anything to do with me and Sirius- well he just couldn’t understand ow you’d be in Slytherin and as time passed and the further you two got, so did my chances at ever speaking to you, at ever seeing your smile and I thought I was okay with that I mean truly, I let it go all the way until that night in the Hospital Wing.

“You looked so terrified then that I was reminded of your smile…I’d never wanted to see anything more in that moment and when McGonagall put us together for these bloody lessons I got my chance again and from the first time you yelled at me, I just knew that all this time…all the waiting was worth it because I was finally able to receive the whole of your attention.

“I didn’t tell anyone else because I didn’t want anyone else to take away my chance at making it work with you… I know Sirius would be upset, probably Pete and Remus too but the way I feel with you…nothing compares.”

And there James goes, entrapping Regulus further with his lilting words and otherworldly beauty.

Here he was pouring out his heart and soul to Regulus who was none the wiser to all his feelings . He couldn’t imagine that James, the same boy who spoke just about everything that came to mind and became a nervous wreck when lying about the most minute things, harboured a secret like this for years .

He couldn’t imagine being the object of James’ desire for years when he still felt a complete wreck every single morning, when he felt like a complete burden to James just about every other day.

“Swear it, swear that you’re saying the truth,” Regulus whispered, the words stilted and breathy but he needed to know, needed that assurance.

“I swear it on every star in the sky, mera sitara,” he whispered, glancing up at the sky above them and Regulus saw the small stars brighten his wide pupil, lighting him up from within.

“But you liked-.”

“I like you and I want you Regulus, so much that it hurts,” he admitted with sickening honesty. 

He vocalised his feelings so perfectly and Regulus envied how words came so easily to him when he could barely ever articulate his own thoughts. In every way he was a mess, James was perfect and this was only another example but he couldn’t find it in himself to hate James because he had a sneaking suspicion that he understood Regulus without needing words.

And so Regulus decided to show James his feelings through action as he shifted, moving up to tenderly kiss James on the lips, a slow and sensual motion that had them both hot and trembling with need in mere moments.

Regulus climbed into James’ lap, straddling him, and continued to kiss him, slowly moving from his lips down to his jaw and he kissed the sharp angle there, feeling the slight stubble on his chin rub against his own soft skin.

“You’re my…” Regulus whispered, trying desperately to find the words, “You’re mine,” he finally settled on and just as he was scared that the words didn’t quite come out right James jumped in,

“I’m yours,” he responded in turn, rubbing his hands up and down on Regulus’ waist, palming the fabric there as if desperate to remove the clothing there and so Regulus took the initiative, slowly unbuttoning James’ shirt and pushing forward to let James to do the same.

All it took was a sharp nod from Regulus to James’ questioning look to spur him on, his fingers surprisingly deft in unbuttoning Regulus’ shirt and Regulus did the same to James, finally able to run his hands up and down his toned body without fabric in between them.

James’ skin was as hot as it always was and Regulus paused his movements just to look down at James, at the small smattering of hair across his broad chest and the small marks dotted across the expanse of golden skin on display. 

He was a true thing of beauty.

Regulus slowly rocked his hips as he kissed James, praised him, and James matched his actions and Regulus could almost believe that he was almost beautiful too, that he might be worthy of James’ attention.

James’ breaths slowly came in deeper and quicker as Regulus continued rocking his hips in a steady rhythm against James and kissing and biting at the soft skin on the column of his neck. His skin tasted like salt and smoke from the fire and Regulus alternated between the taste of him and the scent- the ever present jasmine overpowering his senses.

As James began to moan and his hands continued to grab and pull at Regulus, he could feel both of their arousals rise, James’ especially under him, and in a move bolder than he could ever imagine himself doing- he climbed out of James lap and stood, reaching a hand out for him that James took eagerly.

Before they could move though, James bent down to whisper to Regulus, his voice hoarse, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking of your arse in those trousers since I saw you,” and he kissed him, his hands travelling down to Regulus’ hips before dipping lower and clenching the flesh there and he moaned in response.

Regulus ushed James forward till the back of his legs hit the bed and he sat on the edge looking up at Regulus.

Regulus’ attention was focused elsewhere however as he trailed his fingers from James’ collarbone to his navel, to skin just beneath.

He paused at the small trail of hair that led to James’ belt buckle and looked down at James, a burning question looming in his eyes.

“Are you sure?” James whispered.

“Yes,” he answered simply and James nodded in turn.

He dropped down to his knees in front of James and pressed a kiss in the hollow of his hips and he keened, threading his fingers through Regulus’ hair and Regulus turned to kiss the palm of his hand just once before turning back and unbuckling his belt and pulling it through the loops of his trousers.

Regulus kept his eyes up on James as he opened the button of his trousers and pushed the waistband down to reveal a simple pair of black pants that highlighted James’ arousal that had been building just as Regulus’ had all night, perhaps longer. 

He palmed James through his pants and he moaned, pushing up into the touch and letting his head roll back as Regulus removed even that last layer of fabric between them and moved to press a wet kiss to the head of his erection.

He had never gotten this far with anyone before but with each moan that James produced and each roll of his hips, Regulus learned what James liked and continued to do exactly that, leading to not just James’ climax but his own.

Despite James’ obvious need, he remained gentle, his fingers caressing Regulus’ cheek, threading through his hair and playing with the strands but never pushing his head in a way that he didn’t move, and his litany of muttered ‘You’re so perfect’ and ‘Gods Regulus’ emboldened him even more- a certain praise kink shining through. 

James said his name like it was pure sin and Regulus revelled in it as he worked over James’ length, using his hands when his mouth tired. As he looked up at James, face flushed and chest moving in rapid breaths, he found he could stay here forever. 

“Reg I’m gonna-” he choked out, trying to push Regulus away but he refused to move, only continuing until James’ thighs shook under his hands and he moaned as he climaxed and Regulus continued to touch him as he rode out his orgasm and Regulus just watched him in awe- the way he squeezed his eyes shut and his breath shuddered pulsed through Regulus in deep throbs, burning his own core.

Once he finished, Regulus pulled away and James wrapped his arms around him, pulling him up onto the bed with him, and kissed him, uncaring about what he had just done.

He pushed Regulus higher onto the bed, maneuvering them until they were fully on the bed, the mountain of pillows supporting his back before James got to work, pressing open-mouth kisses across Regulus’ chest, biting and sucking before blowing cold air atop each mark making him shiver and mad with need. He spent extra long moments along the long and thin silver scar that stretched across his midsection- a permanent reminder of the first time they were truly honest and alone together- the moment that may have ultimately brought them here.

He couldn’t even find it in himself to be mad at the purple marks he left behind- marking him as his own. 

He continued until he was straddling Regulus’ legs now, slowly opening his belt buckle and pulling his trousers completely off before throwing them somewhere on the floor where he had discarded his own as well, leaving them both naked save for pants that James quickly removed with annoyance as well. 

He treated Regulus with absolute reverence as he brought him to his own climax and swallowed the answering moan that pushed itself out of Regulus. He cleaned them both up with a washcloth before dimming the lights in the room and tucking Regulus into his side, happily encasing him in his larger body and enveloping him in his addicting warmth. 

_____

“What did Pandora say to you?” Regulus whispered, tracing absent patterns on James’ shoulders as he lay in his arms, the fire in the hearth had burnt down to embers and the blankets on the bed pulled up high around them, shielding them from the world and keeping them in this moment.

“She came up to Gryffindor and got in by saying the password, I don’t even know how she knows it, but I was in the common room with Remus and she said she needed to speak to me about something called wrackspurts. When we were in the hallway she called me a ‘foolish meerkat’ and told me that I needed to fix whatever I did,” James recounted.

He was going to kill Pandora for that.

He felt his face heat as he turned around but James only pushed closer, nuzzling his head in the crook of Regulus neck and shoulder, “She was right, I am a foolish meerkat and I did want to fix what happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” he reasoned, wanting to help James work on not shouldering the responsibilities of other people's actions. 

His relationship with James was forever changed now but he could feel it was for the better for there was absolutely no uncertainty between them now.

They belonged to each other despite the years it took them to get to this place.

“Sirius was so mad at Pete that he’s currently giving him the silent treatment,” James whispered in an effort to smooth things over between them and Regulus only hummed as his eyelids began to droop. 

Nothing in the world felt more right to Regulus than being tucked in James’ arms, unclothed and safe, nothing but pure open space between them to traverse and fill with as many memories they could create in the time the gods allowed them together.

Regulus truly hoped it was forever.

Perhaps it was possible or maybe it was just the naivety that lived within all young adults but he wished upon all the stars that twinkled above their bed that it was true, that they were the one truth in a world full of uncertainty.

Chapter Text

“So how big is it?” Pandora asked as they both lay side by side on her bed on their backs staring up at the whorling swirls of paint on the ceiling. A small wireless played music in the corner and they had just abandoned their studying in favour of quietly dissociating and mentally preparing for their possible failure on all their OWLs.

“How big is what?” he asked in return, slowly eating from the plate of cookies he’d stolen from the kitchen elves.

“James’...y’know,” she whispered before giggling at the end as though they were first years.

“We’re not having this conversation,” he abruptly put an end to that line of questioning.

“Why! I’ll tell you how big Xeno’s is.”

“Quite frankly, I’m not sure I want to know although-” before he could finish he was cut off by an enthusiastic,

“8.5 inches,” she answered confidently, “And I’d know because I measured it just to make sure.”

“That’s…odd but I admire your thoroughness,” he trailed off, still mildly shocked from the truth of the matter, he figured that must be why she was so in love with a man whose idea of romance involved walking around the grounds at night to find frogs and whether they too mate as we do.

“You’re the only other one of us that is actually with someone. Dorcas and Marlene are still who knows what, Evan and Barty- I know they aren’t technically a thing but we’ve talked about the possibility of them together for too long for them not to be- don’t know what to do with each other, I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen. I mean I wasn’t completely sure it was going to be with a boy but…” she finished, turning to the side to look at him, her crystalline eyes dancing in the dappled sunlight that streamed in through the open windows.

He groaned and brought a hand up to his face, “Honestly, I’m not sure I ever knew what exactly was going to happen. I mean I knew I wasn’t quite into girls but it just always seemed like that’s how it was going to end up and James was so…unexpected.”

It was true. His mother had talked about arranging his marriage since he had started at Hogwarts- always hearing her comments about paying attention to certain girls in his year that would ‘be a good match’ for him and being sure to stay away from someone involved in the most recent social scandal. 

When he never found any of them attractive, he knew he was different but when no one else necessarily presented themselves as an option for him, he just put relationships in the far corner of his mind, never to be thought of until the time came for him to stand at the end of an aisle and marry some faceless witch he’d only just met.

In true James fashion, the boy had waltzed into his life and turned it upside down in an instant.

He’d been beaten and slapped numerous times when he was younger because he’d always acted too ‘weak’ which in most cases just meant feminine to his mother. He supposed he always knew he was different but never did he think he’d ever have a chance to find out his truth once and for all.

He started to wonder where James was on all this and a pit formed low in his stomach.

What if Regulus was just a phase in his life? If he was some sort of experiment James had conducted just to make sure he was or was not straight? While James’ body reacted one way to Regulus, he was rapidly becoming more concerned with what James thought and felt.

He was just getting lost in his thoughts when Pandora smacked him lightly on the cheek, “Don’t do that.”

“Ow, what?” he complained, rubbing the spot more for drama than anything else.

“You’re overthinking it and I hate it when you do that,” she frowned.

“Actually I was wondering how you even knew about all this in the first place,” he redirected and asked the question he’d been wondering since the party.

She smirked and crossed her arms over her chest, “I’m just that good.”

At his deadpan expression she rolled her eyes and actually explained, “Well you see love, when you disappear almost every night, it starts to get a little suspicious. At first I just thought maybe you couldn’t sleep so you went to the common room and I let it go, but then your head was just infested with wrackspurts and I know you don’t believe in them but it got me thinking. Then you told me about how you were partnered with James in Potions and the way you talk about him, whew, I mean could it be any more obvious? Since then I’ve just been noticing bits and pieces and I knew something had changed for both of you.”

She still had a kind smile gracing her features as she described the two of them, as though their joy had directly impacted hers and it made his heart swell almost painfully in his chest.

“So you’re not mad at me?” he whispered, voice lower, an undercurrent of insecurity winding through the words.

Her smirking face of achievement cracked to reveal something much softer and gentler, “Oh of course not, how could I ever?”

“Well he’s them and we’re us ,” he explained horribly.

“Sometimes I think you all forget I’m in Ravenclaw, not Slytherin. I’m an entirely neutral party here,” she laughed, “but I don’t think they would be mad either, maybe a little shocked but nothing they can’t get over.”

He sighed because he knew she was right, “I know I just- I don’t think I’m ready.”

He thought about Dorcas and Marlene and how no one had a problem with the two of them but it just felt different for him. He had gone and chosen Gryffindor’s sweetheart, the boy everyone either wanted to be or be with and of course his best friend and second-in-command, was his brother. It was the worst possible combination to choose and yet those were the cards he had been dealt.

“Then you’ll tell them when you are,” she said with a tone of finality. “Okay so I’m going to hold my fingers out and you tell me when to stop okay,” she said then held up both her index fingers. She started about an inch apart and slowly began to pull them apart.

Realisation of what she was doing dawned on him and at the same instant Rhonda, the roommate who very much hated him, walked in.

“Stop!” he shouted.

“What!” Pandora blurted, her hands almost a foot apart. Her eyes bulged as she stared at her outstretched hands before she looked at Regulus.

He smacked her back in the hands, “Oh no, not that, Merlin that’s mad, that’d actually break me if that was true.”

“Are you talking about Julian’s dick because Casey told me that-”

“Not interested Rhonda,” Regulus pointed from the floor much to her annoyance.

“Says you,” Pandora jumped up with interest and he took that as his cue to head out before finding out rather unnecessary information about poor Julian.

_____

When Slughorn finally opened the door to the classroom, it was with a rather excited glint in his eye, “Come, come,” he directed everyone to the adjoined classroom he typically reserved for experiments or potion displays.

There were two cauldrons boiling on a low centre table that seemed to be brewing the same thing as they were an identical pearly colour with swirls of steam and smoke twirling above them before dissipating into the air.

“Can anyone here identify this potion at a moment’s glance?” he asked, rolling up the sleeves of his thick brown robes.

Snape’s hand instantly shot up, along with about a dozen eye rolls, “It’s Amortentia, known for its pearly sheen and scent.”

“Ah yes Mr. Snape, and would you like to tell the class what you smell?” he grinned with raised brows.

“No,” he grumbled though his face had turned a rather unflattering shade of red and others snickered.

“Yes I imagine you’d feel that way, anyways I’d like you all to spend the rest of our time going up to the potion, recording your findings, then writing up an essay on the history and methodology of the potion,” he finished, nodding once and trotting away back to his desk.

Eagerly, everyone formed two lines.

“Smell anything yet?” Regulus sidled up to Dorcas with a smile and a sneaking eye towards Marlene.

“I might, so allow me to excuse myself while I have a breakdown,” she said quite tensely out of the side of her mouth.

“Why are you so scared, I thought we already established you’re completely whipped?”

“Well yeah but what if she doesn’t smell me and this just confirms everything. This couldn’t have come at a worse time,” she complained and as she said the words, Regulus understood her fears and felt them begin to form in himself as well as he snuck a glance at James who was laughing at something with Sirius.

He internally cursed as he realised this, slowly shuffling forward in the line closer to the potions that could determine everything for James and would only reaffirm a solid truth to him.

He tried to keep a bit of faith in James though as he remembered him talking about his infatuation with him since first year and how grateful he had been for this chance with Regulus now. He could only hope those words had held true and that his feelings had withheld the test of time.

He saw Mary MacDonald had reached the front of her line and leaned down to deeply inhale the contents of the cauldron. She straightened after a moment and listed off, “Hmm, vanilla, old books, and tea.” Lily looked rather pleased at that as her cheeks pinked and she began to twirl a stray lock of hair around her finger.

Alright, one couple down…that shouldn’t be too bad.

Well it was going well until, “Did you just say strawberries! ” a girl near-shrieked at a boy that was now looking quite terrified.

“Er- I- You use strawberry perfume I-” he stuttered dumbly.

“I’m allergic!” she shrieked and stormed out of the room and he hastily followed after her, shaking his head as he went.

Well that didn’t look too promising and Dorcas agreed as she squeezed his arm just hard enough to hurt.

 If she was scared he knew he should be too because nothing scared her, she was the resident bug killer in the Slytherin dorms because everyone else would rather light a spider on fire with a spell than go near it like she could. Nothing phased her.

Finally Sirius went up and Regulus’ interest piqued as he wondered what exactly his brother would smell but it didn’t take a genius to suss out where Sirius’ interests laid and it was very clear that the amber-eyed boy next to him was one of them as Sirius maintained eye contact with him while he smelled the potion, “I’d say cinnamon, wool, and chocolate.”

Peter looked like he’d had an epiphany as his eyes widened and he slapped James on the arm who only winked at Remus who looked shocked and pleased all at once.

It was his turn at the cauldron he’d been lined up behind and Marlene’s at the others and they both leaned down at the same time to smell the still-simmering potion. While Regulus was completely unsurprised by his findings, he did look up to see Marlene who appeared gobsmacked, looking like this had been the first time she’d ever smelled anything before-  a completely unfamiliar sensation.

He sat back down at his table to begin working on his essay with the rest of the time he’d been given and James appeared about 15 minutes later, right before class was about to end.

He was breathless as he sat down and asked, “So?”

“So?” Regulus replied casually.

“What did you smell?” he whispered.

The clock on the far wall chirped and just like that, class was over,

“I suppose you’ll never know.”

He packed up, spoke to Dorcas quickly, then headed out into the corridor once more.

He made it a few steps out when suddenly, he was being pulled into a broom closet, the door behind him abruptly shutting and enclosing him in darkness.

Reflexively, he pulled his wand out but there was a slight clinking and a lightbulb buzzed to life atop him to reveal it was James who had kidnapped him.

“What are you doing?” Regulus chided, slapping him on the shoulder.

“I want to know what you smelled today,” he whispered, stepping closer to Regulus in the already small room and pinning him against the door, his leg filling the space between Regulus’ legs.

“You first,” he challenged, leaning up to face the other boy.

James bent down and pressed a kiss just under his ear, “Parchment,” another kiss further down his jaw, “Eucalyptus,” then one more on his lips, “Fresh earth.”

Regulus’ sigh was rattled as James’ larger hands rubbed up and down his sides, begging for the skin that was currently burning up under his touch.

“Wonder who that was?” Regulus teased and James only huffed before biting down on Regulus' bottom lip as a form of punishment.

He was clearly hot and bothered after class today and Regulus couldn’t honestly say he wasn’t either. After their tryst in the Room of Requirement James showed him just a few days ago, they’d both been wanting for more, begging for another stolen moment together and it’d seem they found theirs.

Regulus reached down between them and began to slowly pull at James’ belt buckle and pull it free from the loops of the front of his black trousers, allowing them to hang open at the sides. He popped open the button to his trousers and unzipped his fly to reveal an already growing bulge under black pants.

James cursed and Regulus took the opportunity to spin them around so that James was leaning against the door and he was in front and it was clearly a good idea because James leaned his head back against the door and began to use it as support as Regulus pressed a hand directly over his bulge and applied pressure.

“Reg I have class,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Are you sure about that?”

“Not anymore,” he replied and Regulus peeled back his pants then to show that was the right answer.

As he rubbed James, the memory of Pandora’s interest in his size popped up and he imagined she’d still go a bit mad if she found out the true size of James and he couldn’t hold back the bubble of laughter that popped out of him.

James’ sighs quickly turned to confusion as he looked back down at Regulus, “What’s- what’s so funny,” he huffed.

Regulus leaned forward, dropping his head to James’ chest as he laughed, “I’m sorry, nothing it’s- you’re-.”

“You know, laughing when my cock is literally in your hand is not a huge confidence boost,” he whined, hips pushing forward into his hand as if to remind them of what they were doing.

While Regulus knew James absolutely had no reasons to not feel confident in his particular size, he slowly continued to work James undone until they both sank to the floor in a pile of heavy breaths and sweaty limbs.

“What am I supposed to tell McGonagall when she asks why I missed class?” James complained, kissing the top of Regulus’ hair.

“Well hopefully not the truth,” he teased and they both laughed, slowly gathering themselves and slipping out of the closet one at a time and heading in completely opposite directions.

The physical distance between them grew while their emotional connection only tightened and solidified itself between them, each interaction further bolstering them together and reaffirming their truth,

_____

Regulus didn’t necessarily have anything he had to do in Hogsmeade when their next trip came around but he decided to go nonetheless if just so he had a chance to get out of the castle for a few hours.

“Can you please try, just come for one night, you don’t have to sleep there or anything but it’d be for old times sake y’know?” Evan pleaded to Regulus.

He still had yet to sleep in the Slytherin dorms, much less even go in since that incident with Mulciber and his cronies. The only other time he’d actually truly gone in and spent more than five minutes in the dungeons was for the Halloween party and even then he’d been so sloshed he could’ve been on another planet for all that mattered.

“But the beds in Ravenclaw are far more comfortable than the ones we’ve got,” he countered, taking another spoonful of his ice cream.

“They need all that cushioning for their big brains but us Slytherins, we need our stone walls and rock hard beds or else we’ll just end up like soft slugs,” Barty informed him quite seriously and Dorcas wholeheartedly agreed.

He only snorted in response, “Yeah I’ll think about it.”

As they all remained seated on a pair of benches, he looked around at all the students milling about and in the midst of them all came a familiar figure, dressed in all black, walking through the throngs of people as though she was Death himself looking for a wayward soul to steal.

“Oh shite,” he cursed and got up, looking around for somewhere to hide before she ended up spotting him as well.

He wondered if she did this often while he was at school- went to Hogsmeade to fulfill a to-do list or just for a day out when the weather was nice. He so often thought of her as just a fixture of Grimmauld that it was hard to imagine her out and about instead of just sending an elf out to do her bidding.

There was something about the absurdity of seeing his mother here while students were milling about that had him wondering for the briefest moment of what she might have been like as a student. He could see her tight black and grey bun turn into long black plaits and her pinched face morphed into a wide-eyed and cheery one. Her crows feet from years of frowning turned into laughter-lines when she laughed with friends and her clenched hands around the bag turned into a hand wrapped around an ice cream cone from Fortescue's.

Surely she hadn’t always been this way but what was it that had changed her? Was it her marriage? The birth of him and Sirius and subsequent disappointment when they hadn’t turned out exactly how she wanted them to?

He wished he had seen her that way and maybe he’d understand who she was now, have some empathy for her but for a woman that made herself a mystery to her own family, there was no way he could unpack her now, so many years later.

His friends were clearly panicking as well so he did the first thing he could think of- slip into the bloody Quidditch Supplies shop because out of all the places she could go, even on a day as upside down as this one was, she would never go there.

As he stepped in, he heard ever familiar voices and groaned before just stepping in further to get away from the windows. He wouldn't be surprised if his mother could smell him and his chocolate ice cream from yards away like a bloodhound.

He ran into Remus quick enough as his head popped above the aisles and was at least grateful to see it was only him, Sirius, and James, with Peter nowhere to be found. 

“Did you miss me?” he smirked as he leaned against a display stand, eyeing the ice cream.

“No because I know you planned your absence- Sprout literally made me repot mandrakes on my own ,” he seethed at Remus who had been absent from the greenhouses the previous Saturday. 

He laughed and around his shaking shoulders, he saw James and Sirius approach. He figured he ought to start thinking of them as Sirames or Jirius considering they’re always together and he’d save about two mental seconds by doing so.

“Now this is a sight I never thought I’d see,” Sirius spoke suspiciously as he eyed the two of them and Regulus only wished he knew the truth.

“I was just asking Lupin how the weather was up there,” Regulus covered smoothly and smiled at Sirius’ annoyance going so far as to say, “I could ask you how it is down there too.”

Sirius went to shove past him but Regulus stopped him with a hand on his arm and he leaned down so only Sirius could hear, “Mum just walked by, I wouldn’t go out there if I was you.”

Sirius pulled back with a look of astonishment, “Here? Why?”

“How would I know? I was just with everyone and came into the first shop I saw to hide from her,” he admitted.

“Since when did you hide from her ?” he asked and it was a stark reminder of the time Sirius spent away, how much he had missed.

“I can’t remember a time when I didn’t,” was all Regulus replied, straightening up to look at the other two.

“What flavour did you get?” James asked suddenly.

“You’re really bad at this,” he spoke in James’ head before saying, “Chocolate.”

James visibly startled, bumping into the same display Remus was leaning on and dropping the pyramid of broom polish someone had gone through the trouble of constructing.

“How did you do that?” James asked loudly into the abyss and it was like plucking a feather from a pile of bricks, obvious and easy.

“Very smooth. Also work on your Occlumency, you’re just projecting everything.”

“Well I’m not going to hide in here until she leaves,” Sirius decided and pushed past them and out the shop and Regulus only hoped she was far enough away that their paths never crossed.

Fortunately their paths never did as she quickly hid her face and turned down Knockturn Alley to deal with proceedings that only narrowly preceded Regulus’ future, solidifying him into one where he couldn’t just run into shops or hide from anything he didn’t like- he’d be forced to live it, viscerally, every day for as long as he lived.

_______

“Your note was rather ominous,” Regulus said by way of greeting as he met James behind Honeydukes towards the end of the day as the sun set, washing the world in burnt gold and low heat. He was already sweating as he had to run all the way back up to the castle to change into something nice before coming back.

“Good because I have a surprise for you,” he grinned, bowing low to press a kiss to his lips in a familiar gesture before threading their fingers together and turning them around and away from the village.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I fear we’ve mixed it all up,” was all he said as he dragged Regulus to the street and up to a sign that signalled this as a bus stop. He pulled his wand out of his trousers and lit the end, looking around expectantly.

“You’re joking,” Regulus said to James as realisation dawned on him.

“Oh my love, when have you ever known me to just be joking,” he smirked and suddenly a large triple-decker purple bus came rolling down the street, swerving over the asphalt as though the lane markers weren’t there at all.

Once it screeched to a stop in front of them, the doors creaked open and a tall wiry man bent down low in a comical fashion, “Welcome aboard the Knight Bus, my name is Steven Shunpike, conductor of this lovely beast.”

James stepped up and offered Regulus a hand to haul himself up on the platform and once there, a small skeleton head hung up on a small mirror turned to them and warned in a gritty voice, “Better hold on to your bums and heads!” It was an odd looking thing and Regulus wanted nothing more than to chuck it out the window.

“Lovely,” he muttered before settling down next to James on a wooden desk chair towards the back and gripping the railing with one hand and James’ arm with the other. He’d heard people’s stories about this bus of terrors and was now about to have one of his own.

“Oh c’mon surely it’s not that bad,” James looked around, leaning back in his seat without a care in the world, apparently not realising it was more like a cushion on a stick than an actual bus seat.

Then suddenly without warning, the bus jerked forward and took off at a breakneck speed, so fast that James flew out of his seat and the small skull head shrieked, “Bums and heads!”

His seat apparently wasn’t bolted down either as Regulus had to hold onto it before it fell onto James as well.

When he looked out the window, he just saw flashes of lights and other cars and a cacophony of horns flew in their wake though he imagined the muggles around them didn’t spot anything more than a gust of wind or a cloud of dust. A look up at Steven showed that he was the one doing all the honking if just to add to the madness of it all.

Suddenly, the bus had a squeezing sensation and Regulus watched the opposite wall close in on him with wide eyes, nearing until it stopped and his knees were touching the wall for just a moment before the bus stretched out again.

“Tea service!” Steven announced, walking down the aisle of the bus as though they weren’t literally breaking the light and sound barrier through the muggle world. The wheel was now turning on its own and Regulus had to start sending up a prayer to Merlin and his saggy tits that he’d at least make it to the end of the day.

The tea on his tray rattled and he tripped over his feet at a sudden turn, spilling the tea all over their shoes though he just shrugged and walked back.

“Oi! we never got our tea!” James shouted, “I paid extra for that.”

“You paid extra for me to serve it and I did, not my fault you didn’t catch it!” he replied with a waved hand.

They spent the rest of the ride in tense silence, Regulus half in James’ lap at this point, afraid he’d go flying out of the open window at one wrong turn and James’ was holding him so tightly he was sure James would end up right out there with him if it did happen.

Just as fast as the bus arrived, it jolted to a stop and a look out the window showed them in some sort of overpopulated town square, “Here we are!” Shunpike announced.

He ought to punch Shunpike in the teeth but he settled on shooting him and the skull a dirty look before stepping out, hoping he never had to experience that again.

“Okay so that was not what I expected but you know what they say about new experiences,” James bumped his shoulder as he tucked his hands deep in his pockets as though almost too afraid to touch anything or anyone.

“I’m not sure I do,” Regulus replied sarcastically but he was preoccupied in taking all the sights around him.

They were dumped on a busy street corner- people were weaving past them as though they weren’t there at all and the hum of people chatting, street vendors shouting, and music wound up all around them into a cacophony of sound, and it smelled like hot food and smoke all in one. The sun was just starting to set behind the high buildings that jutted upwards like teeth biting into the bright blue sky.

He looked at all the muggles around them and saw that most of the people at the Ravenclaw’s party were dressed accurately when it came to the flared trousers and tight tops though that seemed to be the stereotype as he saw people wearing all sorts of outfits dotted in with the masses. Muggles didn’t seem to stick to a uniform sort of style like wizards did and he had to admire their individuality though he didn’t think he had it in him to be as confident as them.

He’d never been in the muggle world and he wasn’t even sure James had been until now.

“Where are we?” he asked with wonder in his voice.

“London,” James answered, equally awed, and for all it was worth, they could’ve been on an entirely different planet and Regulus would have believed him.

While he technically lived in muggle London as the Blacks were too stubborn to ever move out, he’d never actually gone out into the city- he’d never been allowed to, and he couldn’t believe that he lived anywhere near here.

Growing up, he’d always heard terrifying stories of muggles- that they had sharpened teeth and veins full of blood, that they’d kill him the minute they saw him and yet, nothing happened. This street looked like Diagon Alley a few days before the school year started when families bustled through the streets trying to make sure they bought all of their required materials.

It was another preconceived idea he had ingrained in him from his parents that he had to work around and incorporate into his mind.

“I realised that throughout all of this, we’d never been on a proper date and while I can’t quite take you anywhere out there, I didn’t want to let that stop me so I thought that we ought to come here,” he decided and Regulus had to admit that while completely mad, he was right,

He felt a bit out of place in his black robes but James looked at him with stars in his eyes and so long as he continued that, Regulus found he didn’t quite mind what others thought.

James led him along the bustling street and Regulus tried not to ogle at others too hard as they barely spared him a second glance, much too busy on their small devices or just generally uninterested in any niceties.

James eventually pulled him into a restaurant at the end of the block and it had an interesting vibe- minimalist in furniture and structure but maximalist in that there were lights strung from the ceiling like small fairies hung all around them, there were frames full of still pictures of smiling people hung askew on the walls next to newspaper clippings, and random signs and posters were plastered everywhere. He didn’t know what to focus on so he just looked everywhere.

“How’d you find this place?” He marvelled as a server led them to a small table in the back corner of the restaurant, only adding to the privacy and coverage the muggle world naturally provided them. It was like an extra security blanket that Regulus was grateful for.

“Lily made us all come out here for her birthday last summer. Trust me, I was as confused as you are but I remembered this place and thought it might be nice to come back and make it ours. They have Mexican food ,” James pointed out as he perused a menu.

Regulus looked down at his menu, wishing desperately he could use his wand to cast a Lumos because of how dark it was in there but he decided on chicken fajitas while James wanted to try out the shrimp tacos with the ‘ghost pepper salsa.’

After they ordered, there was a moment's pause as they stared at each other, the chatter of patrons and twiny music slowly disappearing to a barely audible hum in the face of a bright-eyed and excited James. He was wearing a simple red jumper, blue denims, and his characteristic red trainers but to Regulus, it could have been an expensive set of robes for how well they suited him.

He was the exact opposite of Regulus but somehow they both managed to fit each other in the other’s lives, meshing and sewing their tapestries together as one.

“Have you ever had Mexican food?” James asked.

“Of course not but it looks good enough. I’m a bit worried for you though, the ‘ghost pepper’ sounds like it might be a bit spicy,” Regulus warned.

“My spice tolerance is super high, I can easily handle it,” James scoffed, crossing his arms and leaning back in his seat.

______

“I’m really terribly sorry, he’s not very good with spice, could we have some more water or milk perhaps,” Regulus asked the poor waiter who probably had emergency services waiting on the phone for how James was coughing and sweating across from him.

Once he left, Regulus went straight to chastising him, “I told you it’d be spicy.”

“Well yeah but I didn’t think it’d be that bad-” James choked out, wiping at his face with a napkin and hurriedly drinking the glass of milk the waiter placed in front of them.

“So much for our romantic date,” Regulus rolled his eyes but he really did feel bad for James who was just beginning to calm down.

James frowned, “I had a good time, just before the salsa bit.” 

He reached across the table to grasp Regulus’ hand, “I really am happy you came. I just- you deserved more than broom closets and secret meetings at midnight.”

“But not more than the Knight Bus?” he teased and James kicked him in the foot,

“It was the only way I could get us out of there!” he retorted.

“Well either way I’m happy so long as you are there,” Regulus admitted then at the look on James’ face, “And it was jasmine, the forest, and broompolish," he answered James' earlier question.

James replying smile was one for the books and he desperately wished he had a camera so that he could have captured the moment .

"Alright that’s enough of that, don’t ever tell anyone I said that.”

His laugh rang through the room and Regulus knew he’d never tire of the sound.

“Also that mindspeak you did earlier, what was that and how did you do it? It would be so helpful during exams or while planning pranks,” James said with wide eyes as though realising the possibilities were quite literally  endless.

“It’s sort of an extension of Legilimency. Have you worked on your mental walls any more from the first time we tried?” Regulus asked.

James shrugged, “I mean I think so.”

“Here, focus on a memory you don’t want me to see, nothing serious but try to protect it and we’ll try right here,” he said in a low voice before pulling his wand out and casting a Notice-me-Not and whispering “ Legilimens! ”

He was greeted with the lovely image of himself writhing under James’ touch and he pulled out of his mind immediately, “Potter,” he chided.

All he offered was a sheepish grin and a mischievous glint in his eye.

______

“Where have you been?” Sirius jumped up at the sound of the portrait hole creaking open.

Of course he should’ve expected Sirius to stay up waiting for him and where Sirius goes, so do Remus and Peter.

“What are you all still doing up?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head uncomfortably, desperately hoping his collar was covering the purple bruises Regulus had left along his neck about thirty minutes before he walked in.

“Waiting for you! You weren’t even on the map and you said you were right behind us when we were coming up to the castle,” Sirius countered and Peter just nodded emphatically.

Remus was laying across the sofa with a book in his lap and he just shrugged as if to say ‘I tried to calm him down but he wasn’t listening to me.’

They were all in their pyjamas and it served to reemphasize how late it was and all of his earlier giddyness from his date slowly seeped out of him, leaving him cold and shaky from aftershocks.

“I know but then I got sidetracked by the Three Broomsticks by the Hufflepuff quidditch team then we stayed to have dinner and I didn’t even realise the time,” James rattled off, not quite sure what else he could’ve said.

Everyone else was either paired off or already back at the castle- it was impossible to use someone else as a reliable cover so he decided blaming an entire group from another house was a more plausible explanation. It was really just a lesser of two evils in this situation.

Sirius was clearly not pleased, “The Hufflepuff team? What are you talking about?”

The fire in the hearth had died down and they were the only group in the common room but it felt like he was being put under a magnifying glass for how scrutinising Sirius’ grey eyes on him were.

“Pads, he’s back, who cares?” Remus pointed out.

“I care because he’s lying to me,” Sirius shot back, looking now more hurt than before and it shot at James.

“Sirius- '' he began but Sirius didn’t give him a chance to finish whatever he was going to say because he just ran up the stairs to the dorms and left. Peter nodded at him sympathetically and followed behind him, leaving behind only him and Remus.

“You really need to start taking the map with you when you go out, it’s hard to hide it from Sirius once he remembers it,” Remus casually says, going back to his book and flipping the page.

“I- what?” James startled, looking at the dying embers in the fireplace, the frayed edges of the maroon rug, anything except Remus’ all-too seeing golden eyes.

“When you go out with Regulus.”

The six words fell in the air like a guillotine and James froze- it wasn’t often that he was scared or at a loss for words but at the moment, he was both.

He hadn’t even guessed anyone knew but Remus of all people…it made perfect sense and no sense at the same time.

“Regulus- I don’t even-.”

“Prongs,” he deadpanned, “I don’t care, really, I’m friends with him too you know?”

Now that was news to him, “You’re friends with him? Like actually?” he couldn’t keep the shock from his voice.

“Mhm, I see him all the time,” he nodded, “He even gave me this book for Christmas.”

“Christmas?” he couldn’t even process how long they could have possibly been friends.

He shut the book closed and stood up, “Next time, check your neck in a mirror before coming in, you look like you’ve been mauled.”

He reached a hand down and hauled James up from the sofa to take them up.

“Moony I- please-” he begged, not quite sure what he was pleading for yet but the fact that someone else knew was enough to make his heart race as though it was a reminder of the already tentative game they were playing. Though he supposed if anyone were to find out, it was best that it was Remus who clearly already displayed his ability to keep secrets- long term.

Remus rested a warm hand on his shoulder, “I won’t say a word, I promise. I see how you are with him and that’s more than enough for me.”

“But you never said anything? That it was Regulus…that he was a-“ James continued, wringing his hands  

“I figured you’d tell me when you were ready,” he smiled, the scars around his mouth lifting too. “I imagine I don’t have to tell you that I feel the same about-“ he finished with a lift of his brows and a tilt of the head.

James shook his head ‘no.’

“Now c’mon, tomorrow’s a full remember?”

Of course he did, he had it memorised perfectly by now, in fact he had the entire year recorded, just so he’d be prepared every single time because that’s what friends did for each other.

The one thing they didn’t do to each other was lie and that is exactly what James was doing to Sirius now and while it ate at him…it was impossible to resist Regulus, it was only inevitable that their paths would cross and lead them here to this moment.

Perhaps that made him a horrible friend- to know that this would hurt Sirius and knowingly continue to do it. Maybe his fears about Sirius, all his friends, leaving him would be true but he knew what he was getting into the moment he looked into Regulus’ blazing eyes in the Great Hall, McGonagall in the background telling them about this plan of hers to stick them together  

He had known he was goner then and now those feelings for Regulus only intensified, solidified some of his ideas about the boy and upturned others. He was a puzzle that James was slowly assembling together, a painstaking process but one he was complete…James couldn’t even fathom what it’d be like  

If they were meant to be then this time of contention was too and they’d move past it in time but for now he savoured this crystalline moment in time where it was just the two of them, together.

Chapter Text

“Shush,” Regulus chided James who was sitting cross-legged across from him, trying and apparently failing to strengthen his mental walls.

“I can't,” he grunted, eyes screwed shut and lips thinned as though constructing them were a physical effort and not a mental one.

“You’re going to give yourself an aneurysm bloody hell,” he rolled his eyes as he watched the words dance around the page. He was so tired they might as well be doing an Irish jig.

“You,” James reached over to pull the book from his lap, “need to stop studying, you’ll do amazing.”

He whined in complaint, trying to get it back but it was futile, “Not everyone is James Potter, some of us actually have to study to get good grades.”

“You think I don’t study? That’s Sirius, Remus sits in the dorm and tries to teach me History until he goes blue in the face,” he retorted genuinely.

“Well I’m not Sirius,” he finished.

“Thank Merlin for that,” James smiled, leaning over and pecking him on the lips.

“Well...” Regulus trailed off, “We do look alike, wait- do you think Sirius is fit?”

James instantly spluttered, “No- I mean you do look alike so- yeah but- like not like that, he is good looking but I never- you’re fit,” he ended lamely, his cheeks pink and eyes wide.

“Oh my gods you do think he’s hot, ew James,” he said with a raise of the eyebrow though it was more humorous than anything else. “Who was your first kiss?” he suddenly asked, all thoughts about studying completely gone now.

“Guess,” he grinned though the splotches of pink remained on the apples of his cheeks.

“Please don’t say Sirius,” he groaned.

“Nope,” he answered, popping the ‘p.’

Regulus studied his face, leaning forward and making eye contact as though the answer would be written in his pupils.

“MacDonald?” he threw out only to receive a shake of the head.

Then like an epiphany because of course it was obvious he shot out, “Lupin!”

“You read my mind!” he laughed, nodding his head emphatically. 

“Well it’s obvious isn’t it, I mean you’re attractive yeah and Lupin well he-” Regulus trailed off, fanning himself as he laughed.

“You fancy Lupin?” James’ voice jumped two octaves.

“Don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re the only Gryffindor I’ve liked, you’re not special,” Regulus huffed.

James immediately tackled him, his legs pinning Regulus down on either side as he leaned down and whispered against his lips, “But none of them have gotten to do this.”

James broke off the ensuing kiss with a, “Wait, who was your first kiss?”

“Barty.”

He paused, as if considering, then tilted his head, picturing the Slytherin, and nodded- deeming him acceptable before resuming.

“Oh Barty,” Regulus gasped playfully against James’ lips and he relished in the look of absolute shock and indignation on James’ face.

He immediately climbed off, “Absolutely not.”

His fire was instantly put out when Regulus intercepted his path out and pushed him to the bed the room had so kindly provided them and made sure to moan out the name of the only man that had ever made him feel this way.

_____

“Are you sure?” Regulus asked a bit nervously.

James reached a hand up to wrap around his own, “Of course I am. I want to see what it’s like, what I’m up against.”

James was so willing to ‘experiment’ that it terrified him. He wasn’t sure he would give anyone, even James, the chance to take a free ride through his mind despite how well protected it may be.

“Legilimens,” Regulus spoke, holding his wand to James’ temple as they sat across from each other in the bed.

He dove into the sea of James’ mind and marvelled at how everything was out on display like a brand new shop front. He saw himself at breakfast through his eyes before diving deeper and seeing Peter fall down a set of stairs, Lily laughing at something in a book, a unicorn he had seen in his Care of Magical Creatures class. All of these memories were inconsequential and yet James remembered them all like a hoarder unable to let anything slip by.

He did manage to hit a wall however which was a bit hopeful but with a slight bit of niggling, he managed to squeeze past it and was assaulted by a memory of Remus and Sirius yelling at each other and he ended up staying as a bystander of the memory for so long that he got sucked into it as well like it was happening in real time. 

Remus was red in the face and his eyes were glassy as he shouted at Sirius, “What the fuck is wrong with you? What did you think would happen?”

Sirius in turn had tears running down his cheeks as he pulled at his hair and panicked, “I- I didn’t- I don’t know-” he couldn’t even form words as he turned away.

James’ own head was shaking and the view was getting blurrier with each second until he brought a hand up to wipe at his own eyes to clear them.

“Never speak to me again! ” Remus roared with all the force of thunder after the strike of lightning and at that Regulus slowly and silently retreated out of James’ mind.

He was faced with James who was wearing a sombre face of acceptance as he seemed to consider the memory once more with his newfound hindsight.

“You did well,” was all Regulus said in the quiet din of the room.

James shifted as he laid down, supporting his head with his hand, “I didn’t even realise I had a wall there. I guess it was just- I don’t know, they had a big spat last year.”

Regulus knew something had shifted with them last year, the whole school practically knew as their table had gone from rowdy to deathly quiet at mealtimes, as none of them spoke during class, and all pranks and mischief were put on hold. Something had irrevocably shifted between all of them and it felt like the school itself had lost its legs for how unstable it all seemed.

He knew something had happened with Snape for he was not only ill for a while but he had a newfound hatred for all of them. Their animosity grew instantaneously seemingly overnight and blossomed into what it was today.

Regulus isn’t stupid and had come to a few conclusions about Remus but had not voiced them because if Remus hadn’t told him yet, he probably didn’t feel comfortable sharing and Regulus wasn’t going to press him on it as it was obviously quite sensitive. It wouldn’t be fair either to put James in the middle so he just kept silent.

“Well I’m glad you all sorted it out,” he said simply, laying down on his side as well, pulling the crisp white sheets up around both of them.

“Have you ever thought about sorting it out?” James asked, his voice taking on a scared and tentative quality, knowing he was treading on dangerous territory, “With Sirius?”

Regulus only sighed, placing a hand on James’ cheek, “I’ve thought a lot of things James and some things are better left unsaid.”

“I can’t imagine having something on my mind like that and just never saying it.”

“Then you are a lucky soul,” Regulus whispered.

_____

OWLs went by in a haze of late nights, early mornings, spiked coffee, and lots of tears, as in buckets full of tears, by all the stressed out fifth years. That was only accompanied by the nerves and anxiety of the seventh years taking their NEWTs and crying became a usual sound in the corridors.

He was barely holding on as he walked out of the Transfiguration exam, holding hands with a traumatised Pandora.

“Did you see her face? I failed,” she said in a numb and faraway voice.

“That’s just how her face always is, it really wasn’t that bad,” he tried to console her, glad that her hair hid his face from view.

 “I turned my cauldron into a swimming pool for pixies !” she near-shrieked in the corridor outside of the classroom, her voice rising in volume and he really couldn’t fault her.

What was meant to be a simple Engorgio charm on a cauldron turned into a massive undertaking as her cauldron simply wouldn’t stop expanding until it got so large, it broke the wooden table it was stood on and McGonagall had to cast a finite incantatem on it before it ran over them.

He just patted her shoulder and hoped she atleast passed considering she’d done everything else well enough.

Barty and Evan seemed smug, as though they had already been granted an ‘O’ and he thought he ought to adopt that sort of mindset.

“You haven’t shown a single ounce of stress this entire time? Why? Are you on something and if so, can I have some?” Pandora interrogated Barty.

“Oh my dear, one does not need good marks when they can simply be provided for, I already told Evan I plan to leech off of him when he becomes the top Healer at St. Mungo’s.”

“I never agreed to that, y'know,” Evan interjected.

“You can’t resist me,” he said with a flourish before breaking away from the group.

“Tell me about it,” Evan mumbled to himself as he rolled his eyes.

_____

“I’m going to miss the greenhouse,” Regulus sighed, casting Silencio on his singing plant that Sprout had managed to keep alive all this time. The plant was rather pretty, aside from all the noise of course, so while he didn’t take care of it, he didn’t mind not actively trying to kill it.

“You can just say you’ll miss me y’know,” Remus pointed out, smiling up at him from where he was sitting on an upturned crate, planting a row of sopophorous beans.

“As if, I know you’ll be dreaming of me Lupin,” Regulus laughed.

“I think that’d be classified as a nightmare,” he corrected, joining him in his laughter.

It was already evening by the time they had managed to make it to the greenhouses with Regulus taking his exams and Remus working on his final Potions project that he, or rather Sirius, had unfortunately left to the last minute. Thankfully for him, James was taking the lead on this and letting Regulus go considering it was an assignment for sixth years anyway.

He just hoped James wasn’t completely failing them.

They had turned the small lanterns that were strewn about the glass room on and they worked to envelop them in a soft warm glow. It was so hot in there now that spring was upon them but they cracked open a few windows to allow some fresh night-cool air in.

It was late but nice, Remus was nice.

He had never once considered that they’d be friends, never given him more than a passing thought before but he was smart and witty, incredibly sarcastic, and quite kind. He’d shown immense care for Regulus, especially when he showed up to the Hospital wing falling apart at the seams but the minute they were both out of there, they never spoke about it again, just knowing that they were there for eachother.

They continued chatting well past their after list from Sprout was completed, ending up in a heated debate about what was the proper way to cut a piece of toast- Remus swearing by cutting it diagonally twice so that he was left with four individual sections with which he could mix and match toppings whereas Regulus thought a straight cut down the centre was good enough.

Remus thought that was a bit ‘serial-killerish.”

“I’m just saying a single-cut down the middle is weird, you just end up with two slivers of bread,” Remus pointed out, kicking Regulus in the foot.

“Oi, stop that bigfoot, and it’s just the most efficient way to eat toast, you overcomplicate it when you do all that,” he retorted from his spot on a stool by Remus.

“My feet aren’t big,” he frowned, looking down at his foot that did unfortunately look a bit long in his Converse trainers.

They were a light brown colour, a colour that seemed to encapsulate Remus, and while a bit used they were still in rather nice condition, a poor comparison to James who cycled through numerous pairs of the same red trainers because he’d wear them till his foot fell through the bottom. Remus’ though had little black marks all over the white borders and he knelt down to get a closer look at them.

Remus bent down and pulled a black marker from his bag, “Here, everyone signs them, you should too.”

“That’d be a bit obvious don’t you think?”

“I promise you, no one’s studying my feet.”

“You wouldn’t believe the lengths people will go to Lupin.”

Despite it, Remus set his foot on Regulus’ knee, turning it to the side so Regulus could write on the inner sole of the shoe on the white rubber border.

He thought about it for a moment before simply deciding on “ R.B”

“Clever,” Remus snorted.

“Steady,” Regulus chided.

He had only drawn the first line when he heard the door to the greenhouses shut- he hadn’t even known it was open, and they didn’t even have time to move before they saw the figure looming in front of the doorway. It was too dark there and they both glanced at each other before squinting to see who it was.

Sirius stood, feet apart and arms curled as though ready to fight as he stared down at them. His face was contorted in anger and confusion and his hands were clenched, his right hand holding a rapidly crumbling parchment and though it was blank, Regulus couldn’t even question it right now.

His ears burned and rang in the oppressive silence in the room and his hand trembled, a jagged line going down the side of Remus’ shoe.

“Isn’t this lovely?” he grit out and Regulus could see the tendons in his cheek being pulled taut, pulling against his skin.

“Sirius,” Remus said in response and his tone was inscrutable. His eyes were blown wide in surprise but he didn’t seem particularly scared, certainly not as much as Regulus, and his tone was questing more than anything else.

It was a jarring comparison to Sirius’ who was certainly already plotting Regulus’ murder.

“Imagine my surprise when I finally found the map where I left it. What I didn’t expect however was that I’d find you two here, alone,” he spoke icily, the temperature in the room dropping. “What exactly is it that you two are doing?” His black boots thunked dully against the floor.

Remus dropped his foot and stood up to approach, “I come here to help out Sprout, you know that.”

“Then what is this ?” he said as though Regulus was just some bug, unwanted and undesired.

“Regulus lets me help him sometimes,” Remus replied like he was giving him a favour by allowing his presence but they both knew for some time that this was equally both of theirs.

Sirius didn’t show any signs of understanding, “You two seem rather cosy for ‘sometimes.’”

“Well we are friends so I would assume so.”

Remus folded his arms as he leant against a table, he was the picture of cool calm but Sirius seemed itching for a fight and Remus was entirely unwilling to give in so he turned to Regulus.

“You just can’t leave me alone can you?” he sneered down and it forced Regulus to his feet as well.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he stepped closer and it was like Remus wasn’t there and he wasn’t in the greenhouses anymore.

Last summer, his mental shields dropped down with the swiftness of a guillotine if he willed them to, blocking out all the unnecessary and only leaving him with the sharp clarity of the present and while he hadn’t needed to use them in a while, this moment called for it and they fell on their own will.

In these moments, this was not the Sirius who stayed by his bedside for hours or wrote him little postcards to leave by his bedside but the brother that sneered and picked fights with him simply because he was a product of their parents, like he harboured anger for the way he turned out.

“You’ve been obsessed with me your entire life and now what? You want to take my friends? Want to be me?” he asked as though he were some sort of God, “Except Pete of course, he sees you for who you are.”

“What is there to want Sirius? No tell me, what is it that I should be jealous of?” Regulus seethed, immediately stooping down to Sirius’ level.

“Only one of us ended up in the Infirmary after the holiday, I’d say you were real jealous of me then.”

“Sirius,” Remus cut in sharply as though that had crossed the line but Remus must not have been aware that there were no lines with them, only a wide field with enough space for them to burn each other down.

“Only one of us gets to walk free, one of us gets to go to a ‘home’ after the holiday, one of us gets to be loved. You haven’t the slightest idea what that’s like,” Sirius closed in on him till they were barely a breath apart.

“And yet I haven’t heard an ounce of gratitude.”

“Gratitude ?” he scoffed, looking to Remus as though he had heard a joke, “What the fuck did you do?” he spoke, throwing his arms out before dropping them.

“That’s enough,” Remus put a hand up to push Sirius back a step, “We can talk later but fighting in here isn’t going to do anything but get us in trouble, it’s already late.”

They both looked incredulous at Remus’ interruption and while Regulus took is as a sign to leave, Sirius was still hung up, 

“No, tell me? What have you ever done for me? Our entire life I took the blame, I saved your arse every damn day!” he shouted though the words didn’t hurt with the undertone of pain dulling the harsh blow he meant to deliver them with.

“I’m done,” Regulus said, not wanting to break the vow he made to himself as images from the night Sirius left came into the forefront of his mind.

Sirius caught him on the shoulder however and pulled him back and he only narrowly missed hitting the table as he caught his hand on it, the hot metal burning his palm. He pulled Regulus in close, his breath hitting him.

“Admit that you did nothing, then leave.”

And suddenly Sirius was laying on the floor in a pool of his own blood, his face was bruised beyond recognition, his mother was cursing, his father absent as usual. The room smelled of sulphur and iron and he had to force his legs to not move, to not crouch down to Sirius and help him- an innate desire that warred with his sense of self-preservation.

Then he saw himself that night, crying in front of the floo that only burned red indicating that it had been shut on the other side, a decision that had been made for him when he wasn’t able to come to one himself.

His life was set on a sick replay of the night Sirius left.

“I am the reason you are living the life you live, you prick.”

“James is the reason” he fired back, his eyes blazing at the mention of his friend and Regulus’...person.

“Why the hell do you think she let you go? You were underage Sirius, she could’ve easily brought you back if she wanted to but she didn’t. Why do you think that is?” and finally, Sirius paused and Regulus took sick pleasure in the way realisation slowly set in for him.

“She beat me when she found out you were gone, you know? Blamed me for your escape and I realised that if I wanted to live, I’d have to leave too. I tried to as well, that exact same night, but the floo was blocked,

“Little did I know, an elf was watching and told her what happened. She told me that if I stayed as her heir, she would let you go. That is why I stayed, that is why I go back every holiday, that is why you get to live.”

Regulus enjoyed silence, the silence that came when one was engrossed in a novel and the rest of the world fell away or the bliss that came with sleep but this silence was painful in its harshness and intensity.

He’d never meant to tell Sirius of his and Walburga’s conversation about his departure because he knew Sirius had run out of options and couldn't delay the inevitable any longer. He just wished he had a chance to escape as well but it never would’ve worked, Regulus was not meant for the life Sirius had carved out for himself.

“Walburga forced you to leave, James took you in, your friends supported you, and all the while I allowed you safe passage- please don’t delude yourself into thinking that what you did was all your own because without us, you’d have turned out just like me.”

“I would rather die than turn into you.”

Regulus studied Sirius’ face, it was nearly his own, but not quite and he could see a new freckle under his brow or a pressed line right where his smile curved out still lingering on his cheek. This Sirius was only a shadow of the man he would grow up to be and it was jarring because Regulus would never get to see that version of him- he knew that once Sirius could be rid of him as well, he would.

With that he left, pushing past him and out into the night where he could finally catch his breath. 

His feet carried him to the Lake, not quite wanting to go back into it all yet and he sat down on the warm shore, glad for the stillness and reprieve of the space.

He watched bubbles dance across the surface and dug into his bag that he had managed to pick up on his way out of the greenhouse and dug around until he pulled out an apple he had managed to snag this morning when he was late for breakfast.

He sent some sparks across the water like James did all that time ago until a single tentacle popped above the surface of the water and he chucked the apple, throwing it across with as much force as he could and it landed true just by it. It floated on the surface for just a moment before disappearing and Regulus hoped that the Squid would eat it or else that would’ve just been a waste

He watched the water ripple before shutting his eyes for a moment but opened them when he heard a light thump by him and it turned out that the Squid had chucked out the core right by his feet and he couldn’t help but smile at it.

“Cheers,” he spoke and hoped that it understood.

Understanding was important in this world and it was a shame so few understood him in return.

In a moment of what was probably insanity, he looked around him, checking the surrounding area before kicking his shoes off and shrugging out of his robes. He pulled at his tie and toed at his socks, leaving all of his extra clothes in a pile by his feet.

Everytime he was faced with the Lake, nothing else beyond his fear seemed to matter and now was as good a time as any to clear his mind so he stepped towards the lake, not quite enjoying the unpleasant sensation of wet clothes but willfully ignoring it as he continued venturing deeper.

He went till he was waist-deep and dunked his head underwater, getting that bad bit out of the way so that he could just focus on the sensation of being in the Lake, one of the very few times he was in it without James and it was surprisingly okay.

At the moment, he only missed James because of how much he enjoyed his company rather than needing him as a makeshift lifeguard.

He walked in a loose circle, feeling the plushy sand give way under his feet and the still slightly warm water thread through and his outstretched hands, wrapping around him like a hug, welcoming him back as though the water missed him as well.

He looked up at the moon before shutting his eyes,

“Will we be okay?” he whispered in a voice quieter than air itself.

He hoped the resounding silence he received in return was a yes as he sat back down on the cusp of the Lake, the lower half of body still under the water that ebbed and flowed around him.

Maybe this was that first step Sirius needed to understand him? He always complained that Sirius didn’t understand him, had missed too much while gone and he blamed him for his ignorance but it was ultimately Regulus’ fault.

Admittedly, it did look suspicious for him and Remus to be alone together and knowing how Sirius felt about things he deemed his, he wasn’t entirely surprised by his outburst.

Or maybe, Regulus deserved a chance to explain himself before Sirius went in on him, automatically blaming him for a crime he had yet to commit.

And maybe cutting toast diagonally was better than vertically.

Who's to say what is a right in a world with so many wrongs.

______

He wasn’t sure what led him to the dungeons that evening but it was a path he memorised as surely as he had the way up to Ravenclaw. He still felt a bit off but the pressure being underground was less oppressive than before, his fear bating and allowing him to take his feet further than usual.

He arrived at the entrance to Slytherin and uttered the password aloud, glad it was still the same, and stepped through the door that had revealed itself to him.

Evan was sitting alone at a desk in one of the nooks carved out of the stone wall and he turned at Regulus’ arrival, a beaming smile already blooming on his face as he jumped out of his chair to greet him. He was incredibly thankful that he’d had the foresight to cast a drying charm on himself once he left the water and redressed because that would’ve been a difficult conversation to have.

“Regulus!”

He spread his arms and instead of dropping them like Sirius did, he pulled him into them practically squeezing the air out of his lungs and filling his mouth with his golden hair.

“Nice to see you too,” he said sarcastically but he couldn’t deny the warmth he felt even though he had seen the boy just a few hours prior.

This is what the hug of a brother felt like, this is what love felt like.

Sirius was wrong.

He knew love, the problem came in accepting it.

He pulled back, “What are you doing here!”

“I do believe this is my house last time I checked,” he raised a brow.

He just shook his head fondly as he quickly gathered his things, “Barty is going to go mad when he sees you.”

“More than he already is?”

It was true.

Barty lazily opened the curtains to peek through when he heard the door but dropped his hand for only a moment before they were ripped open again.

“No way!” he jumped out and in his haste, his legs got trapped in the blanket and he fell flat on his face though it didn’t faze him as he just jumped up again and to Regulus.

“You’re back!”

“For now,” he smiled, glad at his subconscious for taking him here, letting him experience this reunion he hadn’t realised his friends would have. He always doubted their care for him, some rotten part inside of him echoing his mother’s words to him whenever he felt a bit too loved but in this moment, it was undeniable.

His bed was just as he left it and it felt like returning home after a long holiday spent in a hotel bed that was comfy but not quite right.

Barty instantly dove into filling Regulus in on every little thing that he had missed- how Evan’s plant pots fell and spilled soil on his bed, how he lost his shoes under Regulus’ bed for days, how he’d apparently slept in his bed one night just to see what it’d be like, etc. and he listened to it all gladly.

He had calmed down from his confrontation with Sirius but that didn’t mean he felt any better for himself or for Remus who had unfortunately gotten dragged into another one of their spats that always seemed to blow out of proportion.

He stayed awake the entire night, tossing and turning as the gears in his mind whirred thinking about the upcoming summer holiday. There was no point in worrying about it as he’d have no control over what happened but like his friends, his mind never quite knew when to shut up.

______

Breakfast the following morning was an odd affair. Exams were blissfully over and everyone had the chance to enjoy the last few days of school before the summer holiday began and there was a heavy air of emotion as people revelled at the end of the year and the promise of a new beginning.

Sirius, James, and Remus sat in silence and while Sirius’ back was to him, he could imagine what his face looked like. He hated having been the reason for it as if all he could do was cause destruction, even if indirectly but atleast Remus and James didn’t look angry- at least not at each other.

His attention was drawn away when two people- a couple, entered the Great Hall holding hands.

It was Dorcas and Marlene and as if to make sure everyone got the announcement, they kissed each other before separating and going to their respective tables. There were a few whoops from the Gryffindor table, one from Ravenclaw, and the loudest was at the Slytherin table courtesy of Barty.

“Merlin’s saggy tits you finally did it?” Barty immediately asked once she approached.

“Mhm I did it, and her,” she winked.

There were some sneers shot down at her from the usual group of Slytherins who seemed opposed to anything remotely positive but she just ignored them with an easy wave of her hand.

“At least someone’s getting it around here,” Evan added snarkily.

“Have you got your eye on anyone then?” she asked smartly, even adding a flick of the eyes to Barty for emphasis.

Evan’s eyes widened in warning and he looked back down at his food.

“What about you Regulus?” she asked though her eyes didn’t hold any glint of recognition, just a simple question.

He made a noncommittal noise and left it at that.

After breakfast Pandora rushed over, “I’m so happy for you! Now you and I can go on double dates! You know, Xeno found this spot in the forest just past the pool of unicorn spit-”

“You know I love you, but whatever it is already sounds rank.”

She just huffed and crossed her arms.

“Right well I’m off to the greenhouses,” Regulus announced, standing up and walking away.

“Didn’t you already-?” Dorcas asked but Pandora jumped in with a,

“Dorcas! Are you wearing a new perfume?”

He had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop the blooming smile on his face.

_______

“I’m gonna miss you,” James whispered against his bare neck as they lay curled up in bed.

They saw a lot of the Room of Requirement these days, trying to fit in as much time with each other as possible before the inevitable three month separation.

Regulus turned in his arms to face him and let his hand trail against the few freckles that made a small constellation along James’ shoulder. He looked at him in silence for a moment, gazing at his wondrous beauty that managed to take his breath away each and every time.

“I’ll miss you too,” he admitted sadly, he'd come to see James nearly everyday that it would be odd to go back without him. He wished he could just put James in his pocket but how could one contain the sun?

“I don’t- I don’t want you to come back like you did after Christmas. I don’t think I’ll be able to handle myself if you do,” he admitted, his wide eyes searching his behind the thin wire frames.

“James,” was all he could say sadly because he couldn’t just say ‘I won’t.’

He didn’t want to lie to him and it seemed James knew that too as he remained silent.

“What did you do for the Potions project?” he remembered to ask, referencing the assignment he’d completely abandoned.

“Let’s go check on it,” he smiled but Regulus only huffed and nestled closer to James.

“Nevermind, I don’t care.”

James' laugh vibrated Regulus’ bones but when it died down he said much quieter,

“Remus told me what happened with you and Sirius, about how you-”

“Shh,” Regulus whispered, “I lived it love, I do not wish to speak about it.” 

It wasn’t meant to be harsh, if James genuinely wanted to talk about it Regulus would but he wouldn’t be all too happy about it. Talking about Sirius or home with James chafed against him, it just didn’t feel right and he simply didn’t want to put them in that position.

“Are you hungry?” James suddenly asked.

“Er- well I’m a bit thirsty at the moment.”

There was a small popping sound, like a muted noise of apparition, and James turned to the small table by the bed where a large glass of water sat.

James grinned evilly and so it began.

An hour and three sandwiches, two biscuits, a bag of crisps, and a treacle tart later, they were ready to burst.

“Mum’s not going to be too happy about that,” Regulus murmured, poking his overly satisfied stomach.

“Reg, can I be honest?” James said from beside him as they lay side by side.

“Please do.”

“Fuck your mum.”

And there was never a truer sentence said as they both laughed together in the dim room, their limbs tangled and their bodies satisfied in the presence of the other.

_____

“Promise me you’ll come back as you are now, not as she makes you,” James sighs.

“I can only promise I’ll come back to you, it is up to you to take me however I return.”

“Then I shall take you as you are and we will move from there."

Chapter Text

As the great billowing train rolled to a screeching halt in the train station, he glanced out of the large windows along with the other students who were already waving wildly at their parents or siblings as though they couldn’t wait the extra two minutes it took to actually deboard.

He didn’t know why he even looked, perhaps some strange sense of masochism forced him to look out despite knowing there’d be no one there for him besides an elf.

“Promise me you’ll write everyday okay?” Evan whispered harshly to Barty before speaking louder, “I hope you all remember that my doors are always open, my dad’s off in France for the summer anyways so we won’t have to worry about him.”

His words were empty and even as he spoke them, he sounded defeated as though knowing none of them would show up anyways. Not that he would mind a summer with his friends and Evan’s mum but it was just a fantasy at best.

He stuck his hands in his pockets as he shuffled out of the compartment and felt a small square piece of parchment and smiled to himself, knowing he now had something to look forward to once he got home.

He was greeted by Kreacher who straightened up slightly once he saw him, his large ears twitched and he hobbled forward met Regulus halfway,

“Master Regulus,” the elf bowed so low his nose brushed the ground.

“I told you enough of that, especially here,” he chided softly, looking around to see if anyone had noticed the garish display, “Let’s go.”

He looked towards the other end of the train station, again noting James who was standing with his friends but staring at him. He was about to look away when Remus came into view and he slid his eyes to James and back and winked.

Realisation seeped in and before he could act, Kreacher whisked him away.

Bloody hell Remus.

______

“You are not to leave your room tonight,” Walburga hissed as she kicked him out of the Library and back up the stairs to his room.

She had been going mad all day- yelling at the elves and bustling up and down the stairs. He had asked once what was going on and she was ready to bite his head off, muttering something about him being as idiotic as his father for missing what was ‘so obvious.’

Obviously she was hosting as she had been doing all week, he just wanted to know what was so bloody important about today but his interest significantly lessened once she said that he was not to make an appearance and that was perfectly okay with him, he was rather content with that and merrily shut his door behind him.

He looked around though and didn’t have much by way of entertainment so he sighed and grabbed a worn book off his shelf, rereading the familiar story until he could practically recite the words by memory.

The dinner picked up downstairs as raised voices carried up to his room followed soon after by the clinking of glass and utensils. He hadn’t had dinner tonight but just based off the smell, he knew they were eating lobster and he was suddenly glad that his mother made enough stinging comments about his weight that he had lost his appetite. He always thought lobster tasted like salty sea arse.

Once done with the book, he looked around and his eyes landed on his opened rucksack- it wouldn’t hurt to start reading about what they’d likely get started on next year.

When he got situated on his bed, he pulled back the cover of his Potions book and flipped through until his fingers hit a gap and he stopped, pulling back to that page. 

It was a crisp white envelope and the cover just said July in an unfamiliar elegant script atop the page describing how to make Amortentia Potion.

With confusion, he hesitantly flipped it over and broke the red wax seal, pulling out a single sheet of parchment.

Slowly he unfolded it and read,

Dear Regulus,

I apologise my script won’t be as nice as the cover, I had to charm a quill for that but it just got all wonky on me so, back to the usual. I do sincerely hope you open this one in July or else that’d be rather off. I have one for August hidden somewhere else in your bag and while I know you have a curious mind, I hope you wait to open that one as well.

I just didn’t want to go an entire summer without talking to you which is mad considering it’s only two months but after spending an entire year together, it sounds like an eternity. I know you won’t be able to write me back so I left these in the hopes you won’t forget about me ( please don’t).

In the honour that we are pretending this is in real time, I imagine I am probably swimming in my pool ( making sure I stay in shape for our future lessons- don’t think I forgot about those), gaining a rather glorious tan, and eating my weight in cheese toasties. I am also probably thinking about you…I have a rather unfortunate habit of doing that. It also might be because I lo Iong for you whenever we're apart. 

I know everyone else is supposed to come round to mine over the summer so they’re probably here as you read this- my only wish is that you could come too. 

I hope you are well. I desperately hope you are.

And if you don’t open your rucksack until August 31st I’ll be very disappointed in you because I likely will not be doing that and we’ll be utterly hopeless in Potions next year. 

Yours always,

James

Regulus wanted to shred the bloody letter up because of how strong the pang of longing and misery hit him.

Of course only James would think to do this and of course, he hadn’t done anything in return, hadn’t given him some nice gift to show his appreciation for him as well.

What was it but another reminder of how good James was?

Regulus flipped it over as he had seen a bit of ink bleed through the page and was met with a little graphic of a lion holding a snake in its paws. The lion had a great smile on its face as though posing for the camera and the snake was frowning in its furry grip. The lion had a crown on its head whereas the snake just had a pointed party hat on its diamond shaped head.

He had a sneaking suspicion he was the snake.

He snorted, shaking his head in amusement, flipping it back over to reread it until he heard thumping along the stairs and he shoved open his side table, flinging the paper in it and shutting it at the same moment the door to his room opened.

Bellatrix pushed at the door, leaning on the frame with her head cocked,

“Reggie it’s been so long,” she cooed, looking down at him before giving his room a perfunctory glance.

“Bella,” he replied coolly, flipping a page of his book as though she was beneath his attention.

“Come downstairs with me,” she said simply, the small smile playing on her face doing nothing to reassure him, before turning on her heel and walking away.

He wasn’t sure what he was meant to do but decided compliance was best whenever dealing with his family and calmly put his book back, slipped his shoes on, locked his drawer, and followed after her. He wondered what had brought this on considering his mother told him to stay in his room as she was practically frothing at the mouth but questions usually led to dead ends.

The hour was late, moonlight streaming in through the large glass windows of the corridor, highlighting his every other step until he made it to the centre of the houses where sconces picked up the work of illuminating the house. The noise from before had significantly died down leaving only a few trailing murmurs and once he made it to a small room off the entrance, he found his mum and aunt sitting stiffly with small cups of tea in their hands.

“Off already?” Druella inquired, swiping her thumb across the lip of her cup to remove the red lipstick mark left behind.

“We are,” Bellatrix replied simply, linking her arms with him and stepping towards the side exit there.

He looked towards his mother in silent questioning but she only pinned him with her gaze and spoke in a low voice in his mind, “ Learn .”

That was never, ever good.

The minute they were outside, she turned on her heel and shot them hurtling towards an unknown destination leaving nothing but a reverberating crack behind.

They landed in a small field with light grass that reached nearly up to their hips. The air was hot and humid and he already felt sweat begin to bead at the column of his back and heat snake up his neck, the tight collar of his robes feeling like a noose.

There was nothing around for what seemed like miles, just an endless stretch of flat land and he wondered how Bellatrix could possibly know this place.

He turned back to her, “What are we doing here?”

For only being a few years older than him, she seemed infinitely older, looking more like her mother with each day that passed as her cruelty was ever so slowly leaning into madness. The Blacks seemed to accept madness as simply being a part of their House, encouraging it rather than finding the root of the problem.

He made a sick wish that none of them ever had children for the cycle would only continue.

“You need to learn how to apparate,” she informed him, circling back to him, running her fingers through the still grass.

He wasn’t yet old enough, it was something they might begin to touch on next year but it was a difficult task to grasp, students often figuring it out by the end of their final year and even then, that was only for extremely short distances.

He remained silent and allowed her to continue, “Do you know who was in attendance at dinner tonight?”

“No,” he frowned. He knew his mother had been upping the ante so to speak at these dinners as over the week since his arrival from school the voices gradually got louder and more chairs had been added to the ever expanding dinner table. Though today was different- special.

“The Dark Lord was there.”

All thoughts that had been running through his mind screeched to a halt, like a record player hitting the end of its track and was now just emitting static. 

Up until that point, Voldemort was nothing more than a concept- his family constantly talking about his ‘ideas’ and ‘plans for the future.’ They’d never actually named anything specific but he’d seen how the man had left their imprint on them all, he wasn’t sure he was even a man anymore for how everyone around him put him on a pedestal.

He’d heard of attacks mounting outside of the school and again, there was distance between them, a palpable gap that gave him the freedom to remain ignorant to it all.

And tonight he had only mere feet away from the man.

Fear twinged his heart as he thought through what this might mean. 

He knew his parents tried to bring Sirius to their side and participate in their beliefs but he fervently refused and all of them kept him in the dark whether by shutting him out of the room or simply not telling him about it.

It would seem they had all done him a great disservice because now Sirius was gone and here he was.

“You are now the heir to your House and today, the Dark Lord has shown interest in you . You must work to prove yourself worthy of his attention. You have gotten better in duelling and while we will continue to practise, you need to learn more , quickly.”

So she picked apparition out of everything else? 

“What, now?” he scoffed.

Her temper was already beginning to rise, “Yes, now. Regulus I’m not sure you grasp what is actually happening. While you are locked up in your little tower at school, the dark Lord is gaining more followers to his cause, he is already beginning to change the world and if you do not prove yourself worthy of his attention you will be forgotten. Do you want to bring shame to your family the same way Sirius has done? Or do you want to prove yourself as honourable, as I have done for mine?”

And with that, she pulled back the sleeve on her left arm and revealed what was known as the “Dark Mark.” The tattoo was the colour of night and stark against the pale column of her inner forearm. The snake lanced around the human skull in the centre, writhing, and it shocked him- he wasn’t sure how to feel.

She lovingly ran a finger over it, “I am forever connected to our Lord, you can be too,” she smiled fondly as though the mark was a declaration of love. Perhaps it was.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her even look at Rodolphus that way.

Then she stepped away and began pacing, tapping her wand against her palm much like McGonagall, “Now, apparition is easy, you just picture where you want to go and then go .”

This is why Bellatrix could never be a professor, surely if it was so easy, everyone would be doing it.

“I can’t just go , I’ll splinch myself if I even try,” he hesitated as his heart beat faster.

“Try,” she hissed, voice dripping with venom. She turned and cast a floating red light a few metres away, “There.”

He stared at the point then shut his eyes and pictured it, saw the swaying grass, the cherry coloured light, he saw it right in his mind’s eye but when he actually tried to force himself there, he came up empty.

‘ Dig deeper, you have the magic but it is up to you to access it,’ she whispered in his mind like a caress.

He tried to, he really did, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it tonight, it was like asking someone to produce a corporeal Patronus on their first attempt.

As his frustration mounted, the last words his mother spoke to him before leaving appeared in the forefront of his mind- Learn. He thought about the Christmas holiday and how she’d ordered him to do the same thing and the results were mediocre at best then as well.

He had no doubt his parents would throw him in front of the Dark Lord at some point, what if he asked Regulus to do the same thing and he couldn't? It was one thing to embarrass himself in front of his family and another entirely to embarrass both him and his family publicly.

What was to come of Evan or Pandora? Their parents also held allegiances to the Dark Lord…

“What of the Lestranges? The Rosiers?” he asked suddenly, finding Bellatrix had circled him and was now behind him.

“Both have already sworn their allegiance to our Lord, the children are not yet viable options, that is why you must be first. You are the top of your class, incredibly intelligent, and magically competent. While I may act like you are not capable, I do know you hold potential. Your friends however, not so much. That is why you must succeed. Who will help them when the time comes? You are lucky to have us but them…” she trailed off, shrugging as though they were all lost causes already.

Out of everything Bellatrix has threatened him with, that was the first thing that had actually resonated with him, made him feel anything beyond annoyance or exasperation.

His friends were magically competent yes but they were alone, much more than he was and while he wouldn’t say his parents or cousins were great company, they were adept and it was becoming clear that he’d need to learn as well for the sake of all of them.

He shut his eyes once more, breathed in the muggy air, and centred himself. He remembered the well of magic he’d felt inside himself when duelling with Bellatrix, the anger he felt when faced with Mulciber, the fear he’d felt when he almost drowned in that Lake, the rush he felt when he found out he’d be partnered with James for a term.

He gathered these emotions like a stack of fallen parchment and organised them into something he could actually use to fuel his emotions and there, each memory layered atop the other had fire igniting under his skin, first a low warmth egged on by the weather that slowly grew into a living and breathing thing.

His emotions roiled within him and a path that was previously murky and disorganised now became clear to him as he easily navigated to where he felt his magical core reside, bright and golden and wishing for an outlet.

Suddenly, his confidence turned into doubt when he felt his fingers begin to prickle and the hairs on the back of his neck stood. It had become too much too fast and he felt his breathing quicken.

‘ Picture the light and jump!’ Bellatrix ordered at the last minute and he grasped onto her guidance.

Then, as though he had been sucked through a tube, he felt himself being compressed and stretched out all at once as a crack thundered through the night and the sensation of falling abruptly ended with him landing on his arse.

When he finally opened his eyes, Bellatrix was looking down at him with a look of smug pride and he chanced a look above him- he had landed directly under the red light.

He sighed.

_______

He reread the letter every night, clinging to the edges now rubbed soft with all his power. 

The paper felt like some sort of lifeline- a way to tether himself to the person he was before leaving school as everything around him rapidly devolved.

He continued working on his apparition and duelling skills with Bellatrix every day and when he wasn’t with her, he was studying- learning new spells, duelling strategies, and magical theory. She had started to introduce legilimency in her lessons and while his mental walls were strong, it never hurt to reinforce them.

He felt like he was in Auror training for how hard he had to work- day in and day out, it was an unbreakable routine that never got easier.

He didn’t know how Bellatrix had all this time to give him but he knew she was like his mother and likely didn’t want to give him a chance to slip through the cracks like Sirius did- didn’t want him to shame the family like he did.

It was the following week that his cousin requested his presence at her manor and just like always, he dutifully accepted and apparated to her house, a feat he had only just managed to make.

“Today we’re going to do something a touch disagreeable,” she frowned in sympathy at him, “But it will be beneficial.”

Anything she considered beneficial was not usually good.

She led him to a large ballroom that had become clearly dusty with disuse, “Dimpy!” she called out.

A small decrepit elf popped in before hobbling up to them. She had long drooping ears and was far shorter than Kreacher even was and half her body seemed to be made up of her overly large eyes that were grey and cloudy.

She bowed low before croaking, “Mistress.”

She ordered the elf to stay put and turned back to him, “I know you know what the Unforgivables are so I won’t bore you with the details. They are simple- you must cast the spell with conviction, you need to mean it or else nothing will happen and you will have wasted both of our time.”

Again, time paused and his stomach bottomed out as realisation set in.

He’d have to…what? Torture the elf? Compel it to harm itself? Kill it.

He looked around for an escape but there was none and instead his eyes landed on a mirror hung on the wall opposite him. The mirror was surrounded by a gilded frame that dully reflected the lights above them and it was like he was seeing himself for the first time.

He hadn’t realised his hair had gotten so long and when did he get that bruise on his cheek? His eyes looked sunken in and he had dark purplish marks under them making him look haunted. He didn’t recognize the person looking back at him and he turned away, unable to maintain eye contact with that stranger for a moment longer.

There was nowhere else to look but the elf who had started to tremble.

Bellatrix huffed before shouting, “Crucio!”

The small elf shrieked in pain as it collapsed to the floor, the pain surely too great to be contained in such a small frame. Her limbs contorted painfully as tears poured from her eyes and for a moment, he saw Sirius, writhing on the floor under his mother’s wand, and he was again just a bystander to the torture.

She let it go and turned to him, bored, “Reggie, I do not wish to be here all night, please. You need to learn.”

Did she truly not consider the magnitude of using such a spell? Had she ever been hesitant, even with the first time she cast it, was it with glee or disdain? When was the first time?

He had so many questions running through his mind but none of them would save him from this moment in time. He could perhaps ask ‘Why?’ but he knew the answer.

He slowly raised his wand and whispered a broken, “Crucio.”

It was merely just a word and not a curse for nothing happened beyond resounding silence. 

Dimpy just panted on the floor, trying to regain composure while Bellatrix stared at him, her black eyes demanding. Her wild hair had flown free from its tie and she looked more feral than before as she pinned him with her gaze. 

He felt helpless, like he was drowning again but there was no saving grace now. 

“Can I be honest with you cousin?”

He nodded but didn’t look up at her, instead staring at a smudge on the floor by Dimpy’s foot. He fought to keep his own trembling to a minimum.

He felt so stupid . It was like everything had narrowed in that moment- his entire world brought down to this single moment in which he would have to corrupt his soul for…what? 

“There will come a time where a wand is pointed at you, where someone will want to kill you, and you will have to muster the courage to defend yourself. There is no space for doubt or guilt in the new world order being formed. I do not wish to see you die but it might be the only option if you continue down this path.”

While her words hurt, he felt a sort of odd sincerity in them. She was never going to coddle him with sweet words nor would she reassure him but this was as close to honest as she would get. He knew she meant it when she said she didn’t want to see him die.

“I know this is not easy but it will become easy in time. And if you need a reminder with how easy it becomes-”

She cut herself off with the sweeping arc of her arm down unto him and he fell, right next to the elf, thrashing under her wand as he felt his body being ripped apart.

There was no honour in this he knew. Here he was treated no better than a common house elf by his own cousin and despite how many times he was shown proof of his family’s cruelty, each reminder was shocking and painful in its own right.

She lifted it soon after, only right after his skin felt like it was being flayed.

“I am going to leave this room, when I come back, the elf better be fucking dead,” she spit out before leaving, her heels clicking on the floor echoing in his locked mind.

_______

Magic never lied, never deceived, never did something that the wielder had not desired.

It was a wild and unruly beast but ultimately it was the wizard that channelled their magic through themselves and cast. 

And yet, the elf lay dead at his feet, unmoving, unbreathing- dead.

He didn’t even realise he had cast until suddenly his arm was up, trembling under the exertion of raising it multiple times already and his throat was run dry from having said the incantation hundreds of times. This time felt just as the others but with more anxiety and nausea behind it and he cast the spell, ripping through his arm like fire and shooting out of his wand with a speed he’d never seen before.

The elf fell without another sound.

He didn’t even feel Bellatrix’s hand that she laid on his shoulder nor did he hear his mother’s praise once they got home and his cousin told her what he did. He didn’t feel the ground beneath his feet nor the bed he laid atop once night fell.

He didn’t feel himself as reality slowly untethered itself and he felt himself floating away.

He didn’t read James’ letter that night.

How could he?

James said he would take him as he was but…what if he wasn’t the same person anymore? There had to be a limit to James’ affection and he thinks he has just crossed it.

_______

“Don’t even worry about it, I need some new broom polish anyways,” James smiled as he clapped Peter on the back.

“I didn’t mean to,” he frowned, wringing his hands over the broken broom at his feet.

“I’m low on chocolate too,” Remus supplied.

“I literally gave you an entire box on the last day of school?” Sirius turned around to look at him in surprise.

Remus only flushed and looked away.

They made it to Diagon Alley easily and what was meant to be a short trip to repair the broom as it only had a minor crack in it turned into a lazy stroll into each and every shop down the alley.

Summer was well and truly upon them as sweat beaded against James’ forehead, the strawberry ice cream in his hand already melting over his fingers.

They were laden with shopping bags by the time they finally crowded back into the Leaky Cauldron, deciding to get a butterbeer or two before they floo’d back home.

So far the summer holiday was treating James well as he spent almost all of his days sprawled on various sofas around the house, flying with Sirius, or cooking with his mum. His friends came and went just about every other day and it was nice.

Just nice.

It had the potential to be amazing but the one person that would have made it so had no way of joining him. He tried not to think, or rather worry, over Regulus too often but it was hard to do so when Sirius was always with him. A catch of his black hair turning a corner or the dimple of his smile had him flashing back to Regulus like a familiar ache.

He would never trade Sirius for the world, but he wished he could have both of them here.

Sirius went and got their first round as Remus already broke into his box of fudge flies, the ice cream clearly having done nothing to satiate his sugar tooth.

“Can you believe we’re going into our final year at Hogwarts?” Peter mused aloud though his face carried a note of fear.

He hadn’t really stopped to think about it …in just nine months from September, he’d be entering the real world and the thought was completely and utterly terrifying.

Sure he didn’t mind not having to do homework or serve detentions but he was free to do literally anything he wanted. How was he meant to decide a career for the rest of his life when he never even knew what he wanted for dinner?

The growing whispers of ‘Voldemort’ and ‘war’ did nothing to help either, only serving to worry him more often than not. Maybe the decision would end up being made for him…

Perhaps it was best to not think about that now.

“Speaking of the future,” Sirius grinned, “How was your date with Sybill,” he asked Peter suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

He instantly turned beet red as he stuttered out a rather calm date in which they ate dinner before going for a walk together. It was rather simple but perfect for them- the two most anxiety-ridden people ever.

He covered a smile as he thought about meeting Regulus by the Lake on their first day back, with the weather still warm and the sky clear-

“Look Moony, it’s your friends,” Sirius poked, eyeing the door.

“Quit it,” Remus chided, the two of them only just having gotten over their spat about Regulus at the end of last term.

Regulus’ friends walked in though they all seemed in various stages of distress- Evan looked morose, Barty seemed angry, Pandora looked lost, and Dorcas just appeared confused. He assumed Regulus would just look like a combination of them all had he been there.

They took up residence at a booth on the opposite wall and instantly began talking in heated but hushed tones and he noticed Evan wave his wand, instantly silencing their table before speaking again.

He frowned as he studied them, knowing that whatever was going on was technically none of his business but he was still rather curious, an unfortunate trait of his.

He tuned back into their conversation but a glass breaking stole his attention away again and he looked just in time to see Evan storm out with a worried Pandora on his heels, leaving behind Dorcas and Barty to watch them leave.

He had a sinking feeling as he looked at them.

“Let’s go, I told mum I’d be helping her with dinner tonight,” Sirius grinned, standing up.

As they headed to the floo’s, Remus stayed back a few steps so that they were in step together and he knocked his elbow against his, “Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

He looked up and Remus had a small reassuring smile on his face and James grasped onto his steady presence, desperately hoping he was right.

_______

Regulus tiptoed downstairs a few days later, intending to steal a slice of cake he knew Kreacher had made that evening, but fell short when he heard music floating into the main area of the home from the tea room.

It was late, much past midnight, and typically he was the only one awake at this hour so the music sounded especially loud in the otherwise silent home.

He creeped towards it and spotted his mum, sitting in a chaise in front of the bare hearth, refilling her glass of wine to the very rim. Her hand was shaky and she ended up spilling wine all over herself and the floor and he began to worry as her alcohol tolerance was high , much too high for her to be acting like this.

As he stepped closer, he noticed her black eye makeup was smudged, running down her cheeks in black teardrops as though she was crying night itself.

“Mum?” he whispered, still waiting by the door, almost too afraid to step in and involve himself in whatever was going on.

Her eyes snapped up to him, “Regulus,” she gasped. She stood up quickly, setting the glass down with a harsh thunk, “Come here my son.”

No, this woman wasn’t his mother. He didn’t think he’d ever once heard her call him ‘my boy’ or anything remotely similar or endearing.

He agreed nonetheless and stepped up and she openly eyed him, running her beady eyes up and down him, “You’ve grown so much, I forget to notice sometimes,” she huffed a humourless laugh, “I still see you as you were when you were just a boy, so small and fragile,” she murmured to herself, running the back of her cold hand over his cheek.

Her eyes were glassy and unfocused and her words were slightly slurred and when he tried to step out of her grip, she just clinged tighter, digging her nails into his arm as though he’d disappear.

“Mum you’re not okay-” he tried but she cut him off with a harsh shake of her head, leaning in close again.

“Regulus, listen to me, the D-Dark Lord, he means to see you soon,” she rushed out, “He wants you brought before him and you must- you must do well. I can’t-” she began gasping, bending over.

He couldn’t even process what she had said because he was busy trying to figure out what was wrong with her, he’d never seen her so undone. The music in the record player had dulled out to static, an apt background music to the dance they were currently doing right now.

He hadn’t been this close to her probably since his birth and it was jarring. She was ageing while he was still growing- her hair was threaded with grey while he only grew taller; her face wrinkled while his matured. She was dying and he was growing up until one day, he joined her as well, forced to succumb to the linear one-directional feature of time.

“You can’t what?” he whispered, hoping that if she just got the words out, she’d calm down.

There was silence until,

“I can’t lose you too.”

Her eyes were wide and pleading and Regulus was struck by the unfamiliarity he felt then. This woman was not his mother and yet she looked just like him, from her raven hair to her angular face.

She gripped him, her arms wrapping around him tightly as she buried her face in his shoulder and if he shut his eyes for an instant, he could imagine that she was hugging him- that this was normal.

She was drunk and not herself and likely struck by the news that her son was to be presented to the Dark Lord, a slippery slope that depended entirely on whether or not he liked what he saw in him but it was all this that forced her to admit her jarring truth to him. Somewhere beneath her cruelty and indifference to him, she cared. Perhaps beyond the fact that he was her heir, she also recognized him as her son.

This was something borne of childhood fantasy, growing up all he'd wanted was for her to utter these words, to hold him tightly as though he were something valuable, and now that he was getting it- it just felt wrong.

Was her drunk admission enough?

Was it enough to be her son if it might cost him his life? 

He reminded himself that questions led to dead ends and he just sniffed, struck to find his own eyes wet and he slowly extracted himself from her and he bent down slightly so that they were eye level, “You won’t lose me.”

She nodded distractedly and he set her back down on the chaise, knowing there was no hope of trying to lead her up the stairs and to her room. He cleaned the mess, turned the record player off, and put a small decorative blanket over her before shutting the door behind him and leaving without another word.

The cake he had come in search for had gone forgotten because he had just metaphorically gleaned a much richer piece of cake.

He was to be presented to the Dark Lord. All of Bellatrix’s lessons mounted to this moment and he supposed that she was right about the timeline rapidly speeding up as the month was only just coming to a close. He assumed they had been speaking about him for much longer than just the summer and his stomach churned to think about what had been said.

Surely he wouldn’t receive the mark yet, he hadn’t proved himself, but he was on an irrevocable path towards it.

Even if he went back to school and was safe from his family’s clutches for a few more months, would it matter?

His back hit the door and he slid down it to a seated position, his head tucked between his knees as understanding settled in, thick and heavy. He was being thrown into the deep end and no one could save him now.

Chapter Text

He mechanically dressed, picking a high-collared and thick pair of black formal robes before moving to his dresser to place his family crest pin upon his breast and pin the neck shut. He combed his hair straight back, the way he hated most, and shined his leather boots until he could see his reflection in them.

His mind was completely empty as he dressed- he thinks it had been since the moment he found out he’d be faced with the Dark Lord tonight three days ago.

He’d been functioning on autopilot since then. He hadn’t eaten, slept, or done anything besides sit in complete and utter silence in his room tucked away from everyone else. No one checked on him and he did not check on anyone in return, especially not his mother after her emotional breakdown that night in the tea room.

The morning after, she stiffly told him about tonight’s dinner and that was that because gods forbid the Blacks show emotion.

His collar was too tight and his shoes too new, biting into the back of his foot and tearing into his skin, but this was to be his uniform and he was forced to accept it, as he had to do with most things in his life.

He looked in the mirror and caught a small bruise on the side of his neck from Bellatrix that he had missed and hastily unbuttoned his collar to aim his wand at it and heal it.

He flashed back to a moment last term when he had to heal a love bite James had given him one night spent in the Astronomy Tower. He had to stop himself from smiling then and now he wasn’t sure he could muster one if he tried.

Murderer, murderer, you are just like them, his brain chanted in an endless cycle. Flashes of the house elf he hadn’t known for more than five minutes assaulted him, burrowing deep into him and forcing him to remember what he had done. 

He gave himself one last lookover, decided it’ll have to do, then left his room as his stomach tied itself into knots. He felt sick and fought to get a grip on himself, to be the person everyone already thought him to be.

He needed to be perfect tonight, there was no telling what could happen. Bellatrix had mentioned offhandedly during their lessons where some nights the Dark Lord was gracious enough to dole out assignments to his followers in exchange for gifts or praise them for all they had done for him and other nights where he’d kill a man for looking at him wrong.

His mind and body needed to move as one and right now, he was all over the place.

His father was standing at the foot of the stairs, staring up at all the heads plastered there causing Regulus to slow and stop at the last step.

“Do you ever wonder who started this?” he asked aloud.

He turned to look up at them, hating the sight just as much as he did when he had first registered what they actually were as a child, “I’m not sure. Hasn’t it just always been there?”

His father just hummed, “Well there’s always a first, someone started this and others followed after him. What happens when the wall is full? When there are no more elves? Nothing is infinite.”

This conversation was mentally stimulating enough to dull his bodily pains as he tried to wrap his mind around his father’s sudden melancholy. He rarely talked to the man these days and it seemed odd that this is what he had chosen to speak to him about.

“I suppose they’d have to clear the wall and start again,” Regulus replied.

“Then what was the point in the first place?”

He knew he’d never add to the wall himself so maybe all the heads that were up there now were all that would ever be there, or maybe someone would come after him and take up the torch he’d so carelessly dropped. Who’s to tell what the future would bring?

He turned his black inscrutable eyes onto him and it was like he was seeing him for the first time, “You look so much like Sirius when you get dressed up.”

Was that a compliment or an insult? Or just an absent comment he didn’t mean to let slip?

“How is he?”

Regulus became keenly aware of the silence in the house that followed his question. His mother still refused to mention Sirius’ name and now his father was asking about his well being? He never seemed to care whether Sirius was here or not and now he was entirely genuine in his inquiry.

He wished he knew his father more- to be able to see his tells and sense his motives as they came like he could do for his mother. Orion was just so absent for most of his adult life that it was hard to figure anything out about him. 

He didn’t think his father was as sneaky as his mother to test him so randomly so he answered curtly and honestly, “I think he’s good. Taken care of.”

Silence ensured before, “So simple in concept yet we were so wrong in our execution of it.”

“Of what?”

“Care.”

The floo roaring to life caught his attention and he cast one last dark look at Regulus before walking away to attend to it.

This singular interaction was proof that one can spend an entire lifetime with someone and still not know anything about them.

_______

People steadily poured into the house.

First the Blacks, then the Lestranges, then the Malfoys. He was related to all of them and they comprised those at the top of the list of the Sacred Twenty-eight. These were the only families in attendance and he began to wonder about families like the Selwyns or the Greengrasses, where did they stand on the matter of Voldemort? Surely they supported him but in what capacity? 

He was especially interested in the Rosiers, knowing Evan could be a potential target by Voldemort just as he was.

Despite everyone in attendance tonight, he stood politely next to Narcissa for most of the evening, creating idle conversation about the weather and his studies, erring far away from their previous conversations carried over his bleeding arms and cracked bones. The night continued on and with each ticking second, he grew more restless. He wanted to get the night over with, whether whole or in pieces, he didn’t rather care.

His prayers were answered when a resounding crack sounded outside the front door and the entire room fell to a silent hush- no one spoke, moved, or even breathed.

His parents both straightened and walked to the door as one, answering it when normally an elf would be tasked with it.

There was some low murmuring heard and footsteps until finally, he was there.

The man that was more myth than truth stood at about six feet tall but the way in which he carried himself made him look twice that. He was long and lean and wore loose black robes that hung around him like a dark shadow, cloaking his figure in entirety. He was bald and his skin looked thick and waxy as he twisted his neck to look at everyone in the room.

But it was his eyes that pinned Regulus to the spot and stole his breath away- they were blood red and slitted, just like a snake’s as they assessed the crowd before pausing on him. He held eye contact for just a moment before he was forced to look down. His stare was enough to force Regulus into submission- it felt like he could see through him right down into his soft and vulnerable centre.

Everyone’s heads were bowed slightly- a simpering sight he’d never thought he’d see purebloods do and yet here they were.

Bellatrix jumped forward and curtseyed low, “My lord,” she broke out, sounding rather emotional at the sight of him.

He looked down at her and nodded once before turning away and speaking to his father again.

Ever so slowly, people resumed their stilted conversations.

Beside him, Narcissa had tensed and he laid a shaking hand on her arm, “Just breathe.”

Her grey eyes slid over to him, “I’m not sure I will until I’m back home tonight.”

A shared sentiment.

Drinks floated around on charmed trays and Regulus held a glass but it was more so he had something to do with his hands than to actually drink. He wanted to remain painfully sober tonight, only later could he afford the luxury of numbness.

A few more painful moments passed until he spotted Bellatrix staring at him from across the room. She jerked her head harshly and he received her message clearly, setting his still full glass down and straightening up.

He walked past the groups of people towards the front of the room where Voldemort was standing, still watching everyone. At his approach, his eyes turned to his and the slits of his iris’ seemed to dilate in interest and his colourless lips pulled back to reveal rows of sharpened teeth.

He didn’t look real, as though he was on the way to becoming human- almost making it there but losing something halfway through. Or perhaps he was on his way to something that transcended the mere human form.

“My lord,” Bellatrix introduced, shoving him forward, “this is-”

“Regulus Black,” he finished.

“My lord,” Regulus bent his head in a sign of respect that he certainly didn’t feel but knew he had to do regardless.

“I’ve heard much about you,” he said, running a tongue over his lips as though tasting the air.

“It is an honour to meet you.”

“Kind words,” was all he said uninterestedly, clearly not affected by petty words.

As they spoke, Regulus felt gentle prodding around the outskirts of his mind, nudging his mental walls ever so slightly and while he was impressed by the show of power by the man across from him, he certainly was not going to let up now. The corner of his mouth lifted as though amused by Regulus’ deflection.

“Bellatrix has told me about your training, she says you are a quick study,” he looked at her then back to him. “I imagine you had much to learn after the departure of your brother, remind me, what was his name again?”

His toes curled inside his boots and his stomach roiled as he answered, “Sirius.”

He smiled again, “Ah yes. It was a shame to hear of his…views. There are still so many that remain misguided. They will come to learn the error of their ways one day- I have an infinite amount of patience.”

The way he spoke was like water running over smooth stones- his tone silky and his words light. It was a stark contrast to his physical appearance and Regulus could see how he could make any topic of conversation sound pleasant, how he could spin a nightmare into a fairytale with a few simple words.

“I hope so,” was all he could say.

He nodded before turning away, a clear dismissal and Regulus bowed to his profile once more and stepped away, leaving him and Bellatrix behind. He went back to his corner that was now vacant considering Narcissa was preoccupied with standing by Lucius and smiling at whatever he and his associates were talking about.

He remembered when he and Sirius were forced to attend these sorts of events when they were younger. His mother had to put them both under the Imperius a few times when they had riled each other up and dared to have the slightest bit of fun at events. The times before she caught them were some of his fondest memories.

And now here he stood alone.

A small elf notified them that dinner was complete and everyone shuffled towards the dining room like cows being herded back into the barn.

Voldemort strode confidently to the head of the table, taking over a spot that had once been reserved for his father only. At his right sat Bellatrix and his left was Malfoy- an interesting power dynamic. Further down was Lucius’ father Abraxos, the Lestrange brothers, and then his own parents. The only seat left for him was at the foot of the table, directly opposite Voldemort and the thought chilled him to his bones.

He silently slid into his seat and focused on a slight dent in the table, a bit off the centre and to the left. It had been made by Sirius when he was still learning how to use cutlery appropriately- he had once applied too much pressure when cutting a piece of meat that he lost his grip and the knife cut into the table. His parents were probably furious but Regulus didn’t remember- he tended to dissociate in moments like that.

The dishes were doled out and he listened as the conversations ranged from the latest happenings at the Ministry to what views the Ministry in France and Germany held and whether or not they could be brought to join the cause. Voldemort’s plan to the top was quite clean cut he realised, a coup from within as he slowly brought more and more people to his side until the entire Ministry would be his and from there- international Ministries. Along with this, he took out anyone that opposed him while simultaneously staging attacks to incite fear among both muggles and wizards in an effort to ‘bring them to the right side.’

His only question among all this was what exactly his role was in all of this? He was still a student with no real power outside of school, he was just going into his sixth year. It all felt a bit too much too soon to be sat here in front of him with nothing to offer.

Questions plagued him throughout dinner while he forced bites of food into his mouth. He couldn’t understand how Lucius could continue drinking the wine or Bellatrix could laugh all the while Voldemort was sitting right there. How could such a level of comfort be achieved with him?

Whenever he did look up from the table, he noticed Voldemort’s plate remained empty, not a single bite of food was offered to him nor did he ask. He periodically took sips from a glass containing a clear shimmering liquid that cascaded light when struck in a certain way. It looked like the poisons Slughorn held in his Advanced Potions cabinet.

He seemed more like an alien wearing a human suit than anything else- acting all the parts of a mortal being but not quite getting them right.

He rarely spoke as well, only asked questions here and there and nodded when they were answered. Regulus could practically see the gears turning in his head though, how loud it must be in his mind to remain so quiet on the outside.

Dinner concluded with treacle tart and suddenly Voldemort stood. 

Everyone else at the table stood up and Regulus hastily followed, clearly not caught up with whatever rehearsed movements they had made.

“I should like to speak to Regulus in your study,” he announced, turning towards his father but he didn’t sound wary or unsure like one normally would with a question- it was a statement, an order.

His father immediately agreed, “Of course, my Lord.”

He walked out of the room without another word and Regulus just looked back at everyone else at the table. He was met with looks of envy, confusion, and fear but they all shared a common theme of- Go! And so he hastily followed the familiar steps to his father’s study on the ground floor.

He hadn’t actually been inside since he was a child when he would play with his toys in front of the fire in the hearth while his father worked. It was somewhere around the time he actually gained sentience that he was kicked out. His father continued to come in here often but he suspected he only came in here for work half of the time, the other half just because he had nowhere else in the house to go really.

A bookshelf took up the entirety of one wall, the hearth and intricate mantel the opposite, and a row of glass windows were opposite the door. The large wooden desk set in front of the bookshelf had been in the Black family for generations and despite its age, it had held up well though if one took a closer look, there were little indents made by quills over the years, words long lost to history now. 

Voldemort however did not sit behind the desk, instead walking to stand in front of the hearth that he lit with a snap of his fingers regardless of the fact that they were right in the middle of summer. 

“Sit,” he smiled, gesturing to the sofa.

Regulus sat and waited for him to do the same but he remained unmoved, his eyes just shifting downwards to meet him.

“I wanted a chance to speak to you away from…the others. Sometimes their enthusiasm overpowers their thoughts, so eager to prove themselves that others get overlooked. I suspect you have that problem,” he said. The way he spoke was so entirely odd and while others may seem comforted, he just felt off put by it. Everything was a statement that just didn’t really need a response so he was constantly left at a loss with what to do.

“I am honoured for the opportunity to present myself to you. My family has spoken highly of you for years,” he bowed, hoping that stroking his ego was a safe bet.

“Yes, I have known the Blacks, Malfoys, and Lestranges for years. I went to school with most of them and we’ve maintained these strong relationships. I thought it pertinent to get to know the future generations as well,” he gestured as he slowly paced, steepling his fingers in front of him. “You are familiar with the Mulciber’s? The Avery’s?”

“Yes I am, they’re in the year above me.”

He nodded, “They’ve proven themselves quite devoted to the cause. Tell me, what goals do you have for the future Regulus Black?” he asked, ruminating on his name just a second longer than the others as though tasting them.

“I-,” he faltered for a moment because truly, he had no idea, “I suppose I shall be like my father, take up our family seat in the Wizengamot, work in the Ministry.”

He meant to say the words with strength but they only came out sounding weak and contrite.

He sighed, the words clearly disappointing him, “Do you ever wish for more ? What has following the path of your ancestors done for you? While the Blacks have already gained esteem and respect, is there not more you wish for?”

He supposed that wasn’t the life he wanted but he just spouted out the answers he thought Voldemort would like most, “I believe we need a leader for the cause, to lift up our kind, and I believe you are our saviour.”

He immediately turned sharp eyes on him and he frowned deeply, his pale skin turning dark, “I fear your status as a second child has affected you more than I thought. If you would like to be a part of the future I intend to create, I need you to be more active than you are now because the way you speak, you sound like a sheep. I do not need sheep in my inner circle.”

Okay, so he desired obedience but not simpering, “Yes my lord, I did not intend for it to sound like that-.”

He held up a wrinkled hand, “You have much to learn still, that is clear. You have been bolstered by your cousins, parents, and various other members of my circle. They all hold a lot of faith in you and I decided to listen to them seeing as you did not take the initiative in seeking me out yourself. Tell me Regulus, am I making a mistake in choosing you?”

He paused, absorbing the fact that practically everyone in attendance tonight had promoted him to Voldemort in one way or the other.

“And there it is, that hesitance . That is what I seek to eliminate,” he continued as a log cracked loudly in the hearth, sending embers jumping.

“I just-,” he didn’t know what to bloody say as his mind felt too weak to keep up.

He stepped forward then and bent down so that they were close to each other and he broke a hand as cold as ice to his cheek, “You seem to have an awful lot going on in that head of yours, why don’t we take a look inside?”

Before Regulus could react, Voldemort’s wand was out and at his temple as he hissed “ Legilimens! ”

Suddenly Regulus was thrown in the backseat of his own mind as Voldemort attacked his mental towers, tearing it down brick by brick, searching through his memories like he was flicking through a book. Regulus couldn’t tell what exactly it was that he was looking for but he worked nonetheless.

He jumped around Voldemort who was like an asp in his mind, he covered some memories while throwing forth others. He shuffled around in his mind, it was a careful dance to ensure Voldemort didn’t catch onto anything while also assuring Voldemort of his talents in Occlumency, a trait highly revered in most wizards.

Voldemort paused on a memory of Regulus at the Black Lake and it was like a switch turned on in his mind as he immediately dropped his mental walls down, definitively pushing Voldemort out. He’d so long come to associate the Lake with James that even an infinitesimal chance of Voldemort finding out about James had him immediately moving, the need to protect  him overwhelming.

He was thrown back into the present and he was slumped back on the sofa, sweat beading on his brow with Voldemort hovering above him, a leering smile growing on his face.

“So long since I’ve seen the walls of Hogwarts,” he crooned, tilting his head and studying Regulus from this new angle. He reached his hand up again and picked at his hair, “Ah, how interesting,” he spoke as he studied the white streak in his hair, slipping his long fingers between the strands as though Regulus was his doll. 

He fought to control himself as he tried to recover from the mental assault. He felt naked and entirely vulnerable, disgusted by the feeling of his own skin and he just wanted to claw at himself.

He readjusted himself as he straightened, “You are young but you are also the heir to your House. It would be a shame for you to disappoint so many. We will see eachother again soon Mr. Black,” he finished, throwing the doors to the room open and stepping out before swinging them shut behind them.

He started hyperventilating in the now quiet room, the party continuing outside the thick wooden doors. As he looked around at his surroundings, he felt an overwhelming wave of powerlessness and loss and his skin still prickled, the ghost of Voldemort’s fingertips running over the length of his entire body.

It morphed into the feeling of his mother’s sharp fingers, Sirius’ bloody fingers when they wrapped around his wrist as he pleaded with him to leave, Narcissa’s as she fought to hold him down so she could heal another screaming part of his body.

He jumped up and started pacing, unable to control himself as he unbuttoned his collar and pulled the collar of the shirt just so he could breathe , a luxury so often taken from him. He kicked his shoes off to reveal bloody socks and he just cringed. Shooting a hand out, adrenaline and fear coursing through him, he wandlessly locked the door and silenced the room until finally- he screamed.

He shouted as books flew off the walls and the fire jumped in the hearth.

He couldn't remember the last time he’d lost composure in such a way as he doubled over and screamed, pulling at his hair and his skin, hating the way he felt foreign in his own skin. He continued until throat was dry and raw and his fingertips were bloody from being pulled raw and scratching at his equally bloody arms.

The frustration was so powerful he couldn’t contain it but with all the anger he directed outwards, he forced himself to redirect it inwards until his body just shook with tremors.

Ever so slowly, he slipped his shoes back on, buttoned his collars, and smoothed his robes before stepping back out as though nothing happened.

He climbed the silent steps up to his room and disappeared for the rest of the evening and his last fleeting thought before shutting his door was, did anyone even notice he had left?

_______

“Master Regulus is having guests,” Kreacher croaked outside the door to Regulus’ room the following evening.

He had been laying in bed, staring out through the iron wrought bars of his window, since yesterday. All he could do was lay silently in bed- hoping maybe if he stayed here long enough, people would just forget he existed. It would have been a blessing and yet, apparently he had ‘guests.’

He was wearing a pair of black pyjama pants and a black long-sleeved top, the closest thing to informal clothing he could possibly get and honestly, he didn’t care who saw him like this. If it was anyone truly important, his mother or Kreacher would have either notified him prior or hexed his arse to get him up and change quickly.

He shoved his feet into his slippers and trudged down the stairs, frowning at the portraits that whispered to each other in his wake. A particular ancestor by the name of Izar raised his brows at the sight of Regulus and he smacked him quickly as he passed. He shut his green curtains in an affronted huff, muttering something about the insolence of children ‘nowadays.’ 

He was at the door to the receiving room when he saw Evan and Pandora conversing with his mother. He rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn’t seeing things because surely that wasn’t possible.

“Regulus!” Evan smiled jovially at his arrival. He was wearing a horribly formal pair of dress robes that Regulus wasn’t sure he’d ever seen him in and his light hair was gelled back to the point that he looked bald.

Pandora didn’t look much better as she wore a very modest emerald coloured gown and her wild hair was pinned up and out of her face. Her hands were clasped behind her back as she smiled politely. Her feet were tucked in a pair of kitten heels, a far cry from her dirty converse or platform heels she favoured.

His mother whirled around and she took in his appearance with distaste, “Your friends are here,” she repeated redundantly.

He hesitantly stepped further into the room, “I see that.”

“I meant to send you a letter to formally request your presence but my owl had fallen ill and I hadn’t had a chance to send another,” Evan said, sounding straight out of the 18th century, “I wanted to extend an invitation for a meeting my book club is holding tonight.”

Was he okay?

Pandora acted as though this was completely normal and he just stared at the two of them, trying and failing to school his expression into one of neutrality. His mother glared expectantly at him as she folded her arms across her chest.

“Erm…sure,” he said weakly.

Silence ensued until his mother finally barked, “Get dressed then.”

He turned on his heel and fled up the stairs and he heard Pandora speak, “So Mrs. Black, I was admiring your portrait above the mantle, who do you commission to do them?”

Yeah, she was definitely hexed.

He dressed and went back downstairs to meet them all.

Evan and Pandora, looking like a pair of haunted twins, bowed slightly at his mother in unison before turning and throwing floo powder into the fireplace announcing, “Rosier Residence.”

They went in one after the other and as he was about to enter, he heard his mother sigh behind him, “Look at how well-behaved they are, why can’t you be more like them?” she spoke dejectedly before leaving.

He rolled his eyes and left.

He was spit out into the sitting room and was instantly met with the chaotic sight of Evan ripping his clothes off, Pandora wrestling with her hair, and Dorcas and Barty fighting as they shovelled cookies into their mouths.

“Regulus dear,” Evan’s mom waved kindly at him from the doorway looking out of place just because of how calm she was.

“Does anyone want to explain book club?” he asked tentatively.

“Oh yeah,” Evan answered, looking much more like himself already as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Well we had a feeling things were getting a bit- tense and that…uh,” he seemed at a loss for words as he looked at the others in the room to help him.

Barty picked up the loose thread, “We all missed you too much to spend an entire summer apart so we kidnapped you!”

“But Evan- the robes- and Dora with the hair-” his mind rushed to catch up to all the stimulation after basking in silence for so long.

“Well your mum wouldn’t let us take you if we showed up like hoodlums so,” Pandora shrugged, having won the war with her hair…if it could be called that. While her hair wasn’t restrained anymore, it still stuck out oddly at random angles around her head.

It reminded him of James and his heart hurt again. He hadn’t reread his July letter, feeling unworthy of it and soon it would be time to open the August one and he wasn’t sure if he’d even do it. He was just delaying the inevitable the more he thought about the two of them together- it was impossible, they were imp-

“We’ll be having none of that tonight,” Dorcas said, shoving a cookie into his hand and forcing it up to his mouth before running a warm hand softly across his cheek. Her dark eyes were full of concern as she studied his own.

It had been so long since he felt a warm touch, one full of kindness and love, instead of pain or anger that he nearly collapsed. The high energy in the room mixed with the love and care infused into each of his friend’s words could have brought him down as he didn’t realise just how much he missed this, missed them.

He thought he’d see them only after the holiday was over and by then, he wasn’t sure how far he would have dug himself into his own grave.

She pulled him into a tight hug and the scent of lavender and vanilla soap blanketed him, wrapping around him so tightly that he couldn’t hold back the heave that ripped out of him.

He used to think he hated physical touch considering how he had always associated it with some sort of negative emotion but when it was from his friends, his chosen family , it provided him with unparalleled comfort and here, in Evan’s home, that was undoubtedly filled with warmth and comfort, it was everything to him.

Her arms squeezed him tighter and suddenly, he felt a presence at his back and knew just from the height that it was Barty, then at his sides came Evan and Pandora, all of them hugging him and each other as tears filled his eyes and a lump formed in his throat.

While they all joked and generally didn’t take themselves too seriously, they all had an unspoken understanding of each other's backgrounds, of what they endured when not at school, and it wasn’t often that they spoke about it but now…all of it resulted in this moment where Regulus finally didn’t feel alone.

There was the click and flash of a camera and they all slowly disentangled themselves from each other to find the source.

Evan’s mum had snapped a photo of all of them with a wide grin on her face, “Oh I just love you all.”

They all burst out in watery laughs and Pandora took the lead in saying, “Right, now that we’ve had a good cry sesh, we need to get you out of those clothes.”

He looked down at his robes and agreed they were rather frumpy compared to everyone that had dressed in Muggle clothes…

“Where are we going?” he asked suspiciously then, realising they’d all remained quite hush on that front.

“London of course,” they all grinned and soon enough, they were off.

_______

Evan lived just on the outskirts of London and they caught a taxi easily, when asked where they wanted to go, Dorcas rattled off the name to some street none of them had ever heard of. 

Barty sat up front next to the poor taxi driver who did not look pleased at the sight of them.

None of them aside from Dorcas and Evan had ever actually been in a car before so Pandora was infatuated with the small button that moved the window up and down, Barty fumbled with the buttons that changed the music playing on the box in the centre console, and Regulus focused on not dying, gripping the strap that went across his body with all his strength.

It was like the Knight Bus in slow motion, where before he had zipped through the city at the speed of lightning, this car went through each street and light slowly, manoeuvring between cars with ease, and stopping when appropriate, not just whenever one reached their destination like the Bus.

They arrived at their destination about thirty minutes later and when it came time to pay, Dorcas pulled out a stack of money and slowly counted and paid the man.

“Muggle currency makes no sense to me, it’s just paper, I can make paper,” Pandora mused as they walked along the street. “Wait, if I just made the money myself, would I be rich?”

“No, that’s called counterfeiting and that’s a crime,” Dorcas answered plainly.

“But how would they know?”

“Because it’s fake.”

“Yeah but like I could make really good copies,” she reasoned as though it was obvious. Regulus supposed she had a point as he nodded along.

“Babe, if you do end up doing that, don’t call me to break you out of jail because I will not be doing that,” she sighed, leading them around a corner.

She led them down a dark and silent alley, no club or party to be seen,

“Cas, you know I love you right,” Barty hesitantly whispered.

“Yeah, why?” she asked over her shoulder.

“Because Evan showed me that Muggle horror movie and the main character died in an alley and this kind of looks like that.”

“Evan, you know he gets nightmares,” Pandora chided.

She just laughed before slowing her steps and she stopped in front of a rickety wooden door. She knocked three times with a second’s silence between them then suddenly a slit in the door opened revealing a pair of dull blue eyes.

“Conundrum,” Dorcas said with a wink and the small slit shut again and the sounds of locks whirring ensued before the door opened.

They all filed inside and went down dark and narrow set of stairs that opened up to an underground space. Glass chandeliers decorated the ceiling and illuminated velvet-lined booths and wooden chairs set up around the expansive bar at the back. 

Small sprites zipped around the room and men and women walked around the space freely, mingling with each other as they shared drinks. A closer look showed that the man behind the bar was using his wand to pull glass bottles off the impossibly high bar shelves and it dawned on him that this was a magical club.

“Where are we?” he awed, looking around.

“It’s called Lelantus,” she grinned mischievously. “It was a speakeasy for muggles during the 1920’s but it was abandoned once the prohibition was over. I guess some wizard found it and thought it was the perfect place for wizards to party freely in plain sight, hence the name.”

He racked his mind trying to figure out the word and remembered Lelantus was the Greek god of stealth- he smiled at the ingenuity.

“Muggles come in every once in a while but the alcohol here gets them drunk a bit quicker so anything they do see just gets chalked up to drunk hallucinations.”

“Let’s get pissed,” Barty announced, beelining to the bar and who were they to deny him.

_______

The atmosphere was nice, much more chilled than he expected, and he was pleased- content to sit here in the booth, drinking, listening to music, and talking to his friends. He didn’t have the energy or motivation to get up and dance and the idea of doing anything with someone that wasn’t James was unappealing.

While he and James weren’t exactly ‘officially exclusive’ it sure felt that way, definitely had for some time now and he just hoped James felt the same.

“So when did you lot plan my kidnapping?” he asked, cradling his drink that tasted a bit like ogre piss and strawberries.

“Well we’ve all managed to keep in touch over the summer but then Evan told me about what had been happening with You-Know-Who,” Barty said in a low voice, silencing their booth in the off chance there were other wizards there at the moment.

“What do you know about Him?” Regulus asked nervously, Bellatrix’s warning about them not being too far behind him blaring in the back of his mind.

“It was nothing,” Evan huffed.

“We already agreed to drop this,” Dorcas huffed sharply.

Evan sighed, clearly not wanting to talk about it but he relented, “My dad sent me a letter, talking about how he’d bring up the idea of having me join the death eaters too. Try to find me an ‘in’ or whatever.”

“And I said that I think that’s a horrible fucking idea, he can’t do it,” Barty said angrily, setting his glass down with a thud.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Evan reared back.

“This was supposed to be a fun night out, please don’t ruin it,” Pandora protested, her tone pleading.

Beauty huffed, leaving the table to get more drinks for the rest of them but Regulus knew when it came to ‘fight or flight’ versus Evan, he almost always chose flight.

“He just doesn’t understand,” Evan shook his head.

“He won’t allow himself to just yet, but I do. Look, everything is so uncertain right now so let’s not jump to conclusions, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” Regulus smiled, trying to reassure Evan, infusing hope in his friend that he didn’t quite feel himself but Evan remained unmoved- he saw past lies with ease that it was sometimes pointless to even try,

“Are you on that bridge?” Evan asked quietly, barely audible over the music and it still took Regulus’ breath away.

Despite all his attempts at refusals and denial, he knew the truth, “I am.”

Everyone at the table’s faces dropped and Regulus just looked away, unable to bear the weight of their gazes. He thought they already knew but it was one thing to suspect and another to have those suspicions confirmed.

“It’s not that serious, don’t worry- it’s just talks anyways,” Regulus tried to say easily, knowing that while he felt fear, he didn’t want any of his friends to feel that way and he’d do whatever it’d take to ensure that their concerns were assuaged, even if at the expense of his own truth. “Now, Dorcas I’m gonna need you to tell me- have you seen Marlene yet?”

Her cheeks pinked as she breathed a sigh of relief and looked away, “Maybe…”

Pandora was shocked, “You didn’t tell me!”

Barty joined them and they all gushed over Dorcas and Marlene and Regulus delighted in the conversation. All summer he’d felt weary and old that being able to talk about their crushes like icky first years helped lift his spirits if slightly.

The clock ticked away as they kept replenishing their drinks and they all teetered that line of drunk where they could maybe hold a conversation but if asked to do anything remotely requiring more than one brain cell, they’d fail miserably.

“I’m going to miss you so much,” Pandora cried as she threw her arm around Dorcas’ shoulder, “You can’t leave me alone with them next year.”

“Excuse you, we are a delight ,” Regulus protested, sticking a finger up and Barty vigorously nodded his head in agreement.

“What if you just fail your NEWTs, then you can stay back and repeat a year!” Pandora gasped as though that was the best idea in the world. 

Regulus, equally excited by her proposition, burst out, “Wait! I could ask James to do that too!” Then, spurred on by the drink, his mood changed dramatically, “I’m gonna miss him. We haven’t even talked about this year, oh my gods.”

“We saw him in Hogsmeade when we last went, y'know? His hair is so long, it looked rather nice actually, but he looked all wistful, kind of like a puppy. I think he’d do whatever you asked him,” she said thoughtfully.

Regulus was just stuck on her earlier comment, “Ooh I miss his hair,” he crooned sorrowfully.

“Excuse me?” Dorcas interjected, her tone flabbergasted.

“Did you say James ?” Evan asked in an octave about three times higher than normal.

“As in Potter?!” Barty squawked, his jaw fully on the ground.

He and Pandora just stared at each other and both of them knocked their heads into their palms at the same time.

When will James Potter stop getting him into trouble?

Chapter Text

The night rapidly devolved into a haze of drinks, laughs, and shouting- Lots and lots of shouting.

Dorcas was affronted as she looked at Pandora, “How did you know?!”

Evan was stuck in a stupor before shouting out, “The note! In- In your bag, that fell out! Your eyes practically fell out of your head when I grabbed it, oh my gods that was from him wasn’t it?’ He clutched his hair for support as he stared down at the table.

Barty was just beside himself, “James fucking Potter. Of course it’s him! I mean yeah he’s fit but…he’s just so James! ” It was as if Barty wanted to find a reason to hate him on the sole principle that he was with Regulus but even he couldn’t come up with anything despite how hard he was clearly trying.

“That’s the point,” Regulus pointed out, voice slurring and head blissfully emptying with each passing second.

With every moment spent with his friends, the ache in his heart lifted ever so slightly. He was by no means perfect and would likely spend the rest of holiday in some kind of daze but for right now, he was okay- more okay than he’d felt in some time.

“Have you even spoken to him since school?” Evan asked finally.

“How would I?” Regulus asked, taking another huge gulp of some fizzy drink Dorcas brought for him.

Pandora gasped, “You should write to him!”

He snorted, “Yeah right, how would I? My mum went mad when I used the owl last time.”

They all thought long and hard, putting each of their single brain cells together until it was like a lightbulb went off above all of them.

“You think the bar has an owl? All magical establishments have them,” Barty finally asked aloud and it seemed like an idea worth trying.

“I mean I guess we could-” Dorcas began but Barty was already up and out of the booth, running to the bar with surprising speed.

He couldn’t believe just how good this was going. He spent countless nights agonising over the idea of his friends even finding out about the lessons that telling them about all the things him and James had done after were incomprehensible. He didn’t think his friends were judgemental per say or would hate him for it, it’s just that the idea of him and James Potter was like putting dirt atop treacle tart- it didn’t sound quite right. His proximity to Sirius was even more off putting considering just how lovely their relationship as siblings was.

They all readily accepted Marlene because it was like she and Dorcas were made for each other. 

Sometimes he wondered if he and James ever looked that way, if anyone ever looked at them and thought they fit together like puzzle pieces rather than two mismatched shapes shoved together. He thought he and James worked well together but it was hard to silence the part of his mind that demanded external validation as well.

“You guys are really okay?” he finally asked the table, surprised to have such a tender moment with them all among the crowd of drunk people and blaring music.

“Babe, I suspected you had a thing for him long before this year, I’m just happy it’s finally happened for the both of you,” Dorcas grinned, pulling him in for a nice but very aggressive hug.

Barty came running back with a piece of paper and a pen, “They have an owl! He said we could use it too but we had to buy a bottle of whiskey for it.”

“How much was it?” Evan reared back and asked.

He nervously rubbed his neck as he looked around, “I’m not sure, he said it was ‘500 pounds’ so I just kept giving him galleons till he told me it was enough.”

Evan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head, “500 pounds? Oh my gods Barty that is-.”

“I’m willing to pay any price for love!” he announced before handing Regulus the pen and paper.

He’d never really used a pen before but found it quite clever once Evan explained that all the ink was inside the plastic tube. He also layered some napkins under the paper because the tabletop was rather dirty and he began writing whatever came to mind with his friends all talking around him and the night rolling endlessly ahead of them.

_______

“We could put stink bombs in their dorms?” Sirius suggested as he sat upside down on the sofa, his head hanging down with his hair reaching the floor with how long its grown.

“But that’s so…boring,” James complained, “That’s more of a middle of the year sort of thing.”

Sirius thoughtfully hummed, “I know but it’s just too early to think about it or is it late? What time is it?”

James craned his neck to see, “Quarter past four.”

“Looks like we are going to spend another day sleeping,” Sirius laughed as he righted himself, “Well I’m off then.”

“Alright,” James sighed, still wide awake as he had passed his sleeping window a long time ago, “I’ll be up soon.”

Sirius waved once more before disappearing up the stairs.

He laid back on the sofa once more, pulling his book off the side table and picking up where he left off. Light music still flitted off the wireless in the corner and a warm breeze rustled the curtains through the open window every so often. The candlelight was warm and comforting as he sank deeper into the cushions.

Quiet moments like these were why he loved the summer holidays. 

While he thrived when he was surrounded with people and lived for the moments spent with all his friends, he still loved these rare moments where he didn’t have to put on a performance or do anything at all except exist.

The calm was instantly shattered when a large brown owl burst through the open windows, flapping wildly around for a moment before it locked eyes with James and aimed right for him, landing on the sofa right next to him.

“What am I looking at?” James whispered aloud to himself, disoriented from the shock yet intrigued by the random owl and the package it carried.

The owl squawked loudly, sticking its leg out towards James. Its face was stern and James felt like he was looking at McGonagall as he slowly untied it.

Once he had it, the owl narrowed its’ black eyes at him and James instantly summoned the bag of treats, handing him one. This was a rather serious beast and James eyed its sharp beak warily, handing it an extra treat for good measure. Only when the owl was blissfully outside of the house did James loose a breath and pick at the letter attached to the package.

It was a rolled up piece of paper and James slowly unfurled it, feeling the protective magic around it break at his touch. He’d never seen anyone use paper considering parchment was the standard medium and the paper under his fingers felt so light and brittle he imagined it would’ve been ruined en route had there not been magic around it.

The instant his eyes met the black ink at the top, he sat forward, eyes widening, and heart galloping because he’d know those elegant slanting letters anywhere. His eyes jumped down the page and he had to force himself to start at the top and read each and every word purposefully instead of devouring the page like he wanted to.

Jaaaames,

HI! 

II missed you so much! I saw you’r letter and I wanted to write one back but i didn’t get a chance tooo obviously. I found an owl, isn’t that amazing, it’s like magic! It literally is magic! 

I miss you so much, this summer has been so b boring. I hope you’re having fun, you’re so fun. How are you? How’s your family? How’s that owl of yours?

Can I be honest? I think I miss our swimming lessons a bit. I mean they were horrible but you were there and that is a luxury, I see that now.

I’m sorry I’m not more sober but I was kidnapped! (In a fun way, not a bad way haha)

I hope you miss me too I can’t wait to see you, I hope the feeling is mutual. If not, this never happened.

I have tog o now, Barty is getting sick which is making Pandora sick which is making Dorcas mad. See you soon my love! 

P.S. I remember what you said before summer and I’m trying James.

I also hope you remember what you said after.

Yours,

Reggie Black! 

James couldn’t contain himself as he jumped out of his seat, standing and walking in circles across the carpet as he read and reread the letter.

The letter was messy with inkblots and other random drops and scribbles across the edges but the words were legible enough. 

He felt like this letter was the most uninhibited he’d ever seen Regulus apart from their late nights spent in the Room of Requirement or by the Lake where they freely spoke with one another but he was still sober then.

The fact that Regulus had even managed to get out of the house and was getting incredibly drunk was another thing entirely and he would’ve given his entire Gringotts vault to see that and know the full story behind it but this letter was just a singular confirmation that he was okay.

The words at the end were a bit worrisome but he said he was trying and James couldn’t ask for more of that and the sentence after was incredulous because of course he remembered what he said. He didn’t think he’d ever forgotten a single conversation they had.

And he went and signed it ‘Reggie Black’ like the bloody adorable boy he is.

Once he’d sufficiently memorised the entire letter, he folded it up and pocketed it, moving onto the odd package the owl had brought and he was surprised to find it a bit heavy, wondering how the owl had carried it and from where.

He ripped apart the brown paper and was flummoxed at the sight of a bottle of pure golden whiskey. He brought it closer to inspect it, wondering if this was some prank and just to test it, he opened the bottle and took a small sip. He spluttered as the smoky liquid made him feel like he just drank fiery coal- okay it was definitely not a prank. How had Regulus gotten this? And why did he send it to him? Is this what had gotten him drunk?

As he wrapped it back up, he wondered about where he could hide all this from Sirius because gods forbid, he ever found out about this. Well he was more worried about Sirius seeing the letter, the bottle he could just hide in the cellar with the rest of the ancient liquors.

But he didn’t worry about that now because Regulus was okay and safe and happy, if slightly kidnapped.

Perhaps all of his time spent worrying this summer was pointless. 

Sleep claimed him easily that night and he dreamed of Regulus’ mercury eyes and the glistening surface of the Black Lake under a full moon.

_______

After many many Pepper Up potions the following morning, Regulus floo’d back to an empty house and he was incredibly relieved.

Kreacher informed him that his parents had gone out for a ‘meeting’ and that Bellatrix would be coming over tonight to take him somewhere. All he gathered from that was that he could spend the entire day sleeping so he told the elf to wake him up an hour before his cousin arrived before trudging up the stairs, taking off his clothes, and going to sleep.

When he woke up, the sun had gone from high in the sky to just hitting the skyline, bright beams of red and orange light shooting through the buildings around the house as the moon slowly ascended.

He knew his sleeping schedule would be ruined but he needed it after last night and he found he didn’t quite mind meeting with Bellatrix tonight.

She hadn’t necessarily mentioned anything earlier so he assumed today would just be more duelling practice or something of the sort and he put on a simple pair of trousers, a button down shirt, and a cloak before waiting in the receiving room for her to arrive.

He occupied his free time by thinking about James and what he might have thought when he received the letter. He couldn’t quite remember what it was he even said in the dark of the club and the haze of his thoughts, he just knew he was so excited for the opportunity to write to him that he just kept writing until he ran out of space. 

He also remembered attaching the whiskey to the owl because none of them wanted to drink it…

That was a bit embarrassing but what’s done is done.

He quickly wiped the smile off his face and dropped his mental walls once Bellatrix arrived, not even wanting to imagine how she’d react if she saw how he spent his night. Realistically, she might not care too much about him partying but she would certainly be interested in the letter which would lead to more memories about James and that was a rabbit hole he’d rather she not explore.

She gave him her familiar smile, kissed him on a cheek and whispered, “Tonight will be so much fun,” and whisked him away without another word. He didn’t find comfort in this particular kidnapping in the slightest.

They ended back up in a- surprise, surprise, random field in gods know where. It was already dark by now, the waxing moon the only thing illuminating the silhouettes of large hulking trees and bushes that dotted the land they were on.

“When are you going to stop bringing me to random fields?” he complained.

She just laughed, “I don’t wish to be here any more than you but we have business to attend to,” she turned to point at a small house in the distance, “In there, are two muggle borns who work in the Ministry. The woman, Abena, has been spreading propaganda about the dark Lord and has been actively petitioning to remove individuals like Lucius from the ministry as they were ‘suspicious.’ She’s a nuisance and for that, she needs to be dealt with,” she commanded, her voice as cold and brittle as ice.

He turned to look at the small cottage nestled amid a ring of trees with glowing orange lights illuminating a small garden on the side. He looked through the windows and saw a figure moving back and forth and assumed the woman, Abena, was in the kitchen, probably preparing to wind down and go to bed.

“Dealt with?” he asked, his voice quiet in the dark night.

He felt all his earlier joy slowly seep out of him, leaving him cold and empty again. That feeling was more familiar to him than happiness and he found it so easy to just lean into it again, to accept that this was how his life was to be.

“Yep,” she said without an ounce of care, she could be talking about the weather with how little emotion leaked into her voice whereas he felt like he was overflowing with it, “But I understand you have a bit of a soft heart so today, I want you to just watch me. Next time, you will have the honour.”

With that, she spun around and began a leisurely stroll up to the small cottage and Regulus wanted to stop her, pull her back by the elbow and take them away. He wanted to use all of her training right back at her to stop her, disarm her, do whatever it took to save this poor woman he’d never heard of.

All his life, the importance of family had been drilled into him- how he could never love nor trust anyone outside of their family but did they really feel absolutely nothing for something with a different surname or different blood composition? He couldn’t fathom it.

As they approached, his stomach dropped because they didn’t even have wards around their house. There was absolutely nothing to indicate that they were scared of something happening to them and now they were left completely and utterly exposed, ripe for the taking.

The minute they hit the porch, Regulus’ blood turned cold because strewn about, were toys. He saw a small truck painted a bright red and a teddy bear whose fur was soft and brown- it looked brand new. There were some toy soldiers and a pair of little wellies with a bit of speckled dirt on them left by the door.

This time he really did grab Bellatrix, “Look,” he warned her, “We can’t do this.”

She glanced down at the toys, kicked one out of her way, and silently looked back at him, saying all she needed to in a single look, before turning away.

Panic rose in him like a wave- she wasn’t alone. If she had a child, she might have a partner as well. It was night so they’d all be home. His thoughts just rushed through him as he made possible connections and it was so tiring because it didn’t matter in the slightest because Bellatrix’s hand was on the doorknob and he was following right behind her.

The foyer was silent but voices carried easily in the small home and they followed them like a trail to the kitchen, exactly where he’d assumed the family would be. Bellatrix moved like a wraith, practically blending in with the darkness itself as she moved, her feet silent on the wooden floor.

She stopped at the doorway, holding a hand up to stop him as well and he sidled up next to her, peering around the corner to see them.

Abena was standing by the sink, her hair was tied up in a scarf and her pyjamas were loose and comfortable. She was humming a little tune to herself as she scrubbed at some baby bottles and the baby sitting on the counter was bouncing along, babbling incoherently. There was a man sitting at the table who was looking over some paperwork, his glasses hanging on the edge of his nose while his eyelids slowly drooped.

Could Bellatrix really take the two of them on at once? Despite being distracted, it was still a numbers game in the end, one spell from either of them could knock Bellatrix down in a second and he didn’t think he had it in him to finish the job for her should she be incapacitated.

“I told you, you don’t have to help me with that,” she called over her shoulder.

“I want to help you,” the man said tiredly, pulling his glasses off and leaning back in his chair. “What you’re doing- it matters.”

“I know but it’s a lot to take on, when I started I just wanted to do something but now-.”

The baby dropped whatever it had been holding and Abena stopped speaking to pick it up.

With that, Bellatrix saw her moment and slithered from around the doorway, flicking her wand out from her sleeve with a quick jab and she instantly struck the man, “ Avada Kedavra! ”

He was pushed to the side from the sheer force of it and he sprawled on the floor like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His blond hair fell over his face and his eyes stared unseeingly forward, his mouth open in what was the beginning of a shout but now was nothing more.

Regulus froze, feeling like his eyes were staring at him- accusatory, and he flexed his hands and chewed the insides of his cheeks hard enough to draw blood, copper filling his mouth. He felt like his own hands were doused in blood with how slick with sweat they were.

The woman shrieked, still on the floor behind the counter and Bellatrix just moved on, entirely unaffected by the spell she had just cast.

“Abena,” she called out, drawing out the last vowel, “Why don’t you come out so we can have a nice chat yeah?”

She whimpered, slowly standing up with her hands raised, her eyes darted from them to her husband to her child. She was clearly weighing her options and when she locked eyes with him, he could see her pleading with him, begging him to stop this. She could probably read the pain in her face mirrored onto his.

“P-Please I- my baby-” she stuttered, whatever composure she had breaking in an instant as fat tears slid down her cheeks.

“Why didn’t you think about them before spreading lies about the Ministry? Before publicly shaming the dark Lord? You brought this upon yourself,” Bellatrix tutted, advancing.

She shook her head vehemently, “No- I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t understand- Please I’ll do whatever you want me to,” she begged.

“Perfect,” his cousin smiled and with that she struck the woman with a stream of bright green light.

The baby on the counter suddenly screamed as it cried, likely from the commotion, and it began to fuss, its small hands grabbing the air as it looked around for its parents.

Bellatrix just sneered at it, disgusted by its mere existence and while he had never really been around babies enough to like or hate them, his heart ached for the poor child that had been orphaned in a single night.

She cringed, covering her ears as it wailed, “Right well, here’s an opportunity for you. Kill that thing and we’ll be done here.”

Surely he hadn’t heard her correctly, “What?” he broke out.

She looked at him like he was stupid, “Kill the child. This is actually a rather good opportunity for you- it won’t beg you to live or look at you all funny. It doesn’t even know anything so it should be easy.”

He thought it might be easier to kill himself than it would be the baby.

It’s not like he was an animal lover or some sort of pacifist but at the very core of this situation- he was an adult, and this was a baby. A baby who had not yet lived, not known the feel of the sun warming its skin on a hot summer's day or tasted chocolate melt on his tongue. He had not felt love beyond a mothers’ touch nor a laughter shared with its’ friends.

He would be cutting all of that in an instant.

“I have to talk to the dark Lord, finish up here and burn the house down when you’re done. I’ll owl you for next time,” she finished up, picking a bit of lint off her robes before stalking out of the house with a tone of finality, leaving no room for refusal. She did, however, call over her shoulder, “I’ll be sure to let him know of your helpful involvement,” before the door slammed shut.

Then it was just him and this child that continued to sob as it shuddered, trying to breathe while its face turned all red and splotchy.

As Regulus took another hesitant step towards the baby, he saw that the onesie it was wearing was patterned with little hippogriffs stomping around. The outfit said something across the front and upon closer inspection he saw the words, “Best Big Brother Ever!”

The house was otherwise silent and Regulus truly lost the strength in his knees then as he realised Abena was pregnant. He saw her out of the corner of his eye and noticed her top had bunched up around her midsection, revealing a swollen stomach.

His breath caught in his throat as he looked away and refocused on the child once more.

The baby saw him approach and reached chubby fists out towards him, recognising him as a friend instead of a foe and his legs moved upon their own volition, carrying him so close that his hips hit the counter and the baby scuttled closer to him.

Regulus raised a single trembling finger and the baby latched onto it with all its force before pulling his hand down closer to him, clutching it as he batted big blue eyes up at him. They were wet and full of unshed tears but his loud cries lessened to whimpers now that he was close. He had a small tuft of brown hair on his head that looked feather light as it caught the low light.

He wasn’t going to kill this baby.

No matter what happened, no matter if the child continued to cry or stopped, even if Bellatrix walked in once more to check on him- he knew he could never raise a wand to it. He knew that even if he tried to muster the courage to cast, he would still fail because he wouldn’t be able to mean the words enough to manage it.

He couldn’t just leave the child here nor could he leave Abena and her husband to burn down in this house without ceremony. They probably had family members and they deserved some sort of solace in all this loss.

He thought about if he had been struck down suddenly. While his blood family might not care, he imagined Pandora would visit his grave, probably Barty and the rest too…Would James? Sirius? Remus?

Ultimately, It didn’t matter because he needed to do this for them, this couple who he didn’t know for more than five minutes and was now responsible for. Maybe they didn’t have family at all but at his core, he knew it was right to honour them in some sort of way.

He picked the baby up a bit awkwardly as he wasn’t used to it, but he held it as it nuzzled into his shoulder, his gloved hands pawing at his cloak, and he walked deeper into the house until he saw a little playpen erected in the sitting room.

He lit the candlelights and placed the baby in there for now with some toys, hoping he could just distract himself for a few moments. He picked up the small radio on the wall and turned it on to some random station playing music, hoping to drown out any other sounds.

The baby didn’t do anything more than just sit there and stare at him and so long as he wasn’t crying, Regulus accepted it and walked out of the room.

He went back to the kitchen and walked out of the side door there, leading him to the small garden he saw earlier. There were beds of vegetables lined up next to bushels of roses and other flowers he wouldn’t know the name of if he even tried. 

From the wooden shed, he grabbed a shovel and did something he didn’t think he’d ever do- he dug a grave.

He pushed the shovel into the soft earth and dug, piling the bowl full of dirt before scooping it and throwing it aside. Sweat beaded on his back and his arms burned from the force but he couldn’t stop. 

Anger and sadness and misery roiled in him, fighting for dominance, as he thought about tonight.

How much time had even passed? 

Even if he didn’t kill them himself, the blood was still on his hands. He was an accomplice and in some cases that’s even worse because he didn’t come here with any sort of mission and technically, he could have stopped Bellatrix or he could have warned them, but instead he just stood and watched.

The earth was soft and malleable and easily gave way to the shovel Regulus still continued to work with until he thought he hit somewhere around six feet.

He moved a couple paces over and repeated his actions, on and on until the second hole was about equal.

As he looked down at the graves, he considered his own mortality, the fact that one day this would be him. He’d never be buried underground- instead probably in some cold granite tomb, but he would be shuttered away, his body an empty vessel while his soul crossed over into some unknown liminal space.

He considered the second plot as well- who would be in it? Would he have someone he loved beside him? Or would it be his wife who he already knew he wouldn’t fully love- not authentically anyways. It would just be love borne out of obligation. Or would he have no one? Instead dying entirely alone and his body placed next to some unknown Black family member from centuries ago.

The air had cooled only somewhat slightly but his heavy cloak weighed him down and he just wanted the night to be over.

Stepping back into the house, he peered around the doorway at the baby once more that was now blinking sleepily around as it clutched a stuffy in his hand and he went back to what he needed to do.

He felt nauseous having been in the house for so long but he started to understand how this family felt so safe out here. There was no one around for miles, he couldn’t even hear a single bug buzzing or the bushes rattle with some creature- it was otherwise serene.

Gathering some linens from a cupboard, he set them atop each of the bodies, steadfastly looking away from their faces, and levitated them one at a time to their assigned plots, Abena in the first and Dennis in the second. He caught sight of his name on the letter he had been reading and felt some ease that he knew this man's name, no matter how belated it was.

He levitated the dirt back atop the bodies and patted the top flat. It wouldn’t be necessarily obvious that their bodies were here as he tried his best to blend the mounds of fresh dirt with the surroundings and in a split second decision, he did something wildly stupid.

A pile of smooth stones were artfully arranged around the garden and he carried them back to the graves and made two small cairns with them, crouching down in the dirt and methodically setting them atop each other until he had a small tower he was pleased with and he repeated the gesture again. Then, remembering, he made another smaller tower right next to Abena’s, signifying the baby that had been lost in the fight as well.

Finally, he grabbed two large flat stones and using his wand, he engraved the names Abena and Dennis on them, setting them atop each designated grave. Next to Abena, he just drew a small circle for the baby who had no name.

The three of them deserved better but this was the best he could do and he hoped they could somehow find peace with each other and in the knowing that for now, their firstborn was okay.

He walked away, back to the baby that had fallen asleep on its stomach, and wrapped him in a blanket before walking back outside. He stirred a bit but beyond that, he didn’t fuss too much, keeping the stuffy close to his chest.

Once he made it a safe distance away, he raised his wand and whispered, “ Incendio! ”

The house burst into flames, the wood catching easily as fire devoured each plank of wood before it reached the inside and swallowed every memory this family had created here until the house was nothing more than unrecognisable kindling for an insatiable flame.

He turned his back to the house, not wanting to subject himself or the child to watch the inevitable turn of a house into ash.

_______

He walked through fields for endless miles, he couldn’t tell really as his body had gone a bit numb and his arms stiff, but the sky started to bleed into a watery grey when he finally came upon another house.

He approached and he saw that the lights were off but he hoped someone lived there or else he was going to be well and truly out of options. 

One of the windows was cracked open to allow a fresh breeze into the small home and he peeked through. There was no one in the sitting room but there were picture frames lined up on a small table by the window he was at and he studied each of them.

Most of them featured a small child, much like the boy he was carrying but the one in the photos seemed a bit older. There was a woman in most of them but some had men, other children, or other women who all seemed to just be various family members.

He couldn’t tell who exactly lived here but he looked down at the baby that slowly started to wake in his arms, likely hungry after going so long without food. 

His stomach dropped as he considered his options and he felt slight panic now that he was finally presented with a solution. He didn’t want to part with the child- no matter how crazy it sounded, whether out of guilt or genuine care, he didn’t know but he was about to redirect the entire course of this child’s life and the pressure was immense.

Steeling himself and shutting off his mind, he dropped the child off right on the doorstep, still wrapped up in a fuzzy blanket, and he knocked on the door loud enough so that anyone inside could hear.

He spared the nameless baby one last look and saw that his eyes were wide open now and pinned on him, studying his face as though he wanted to remember him but Regulus knew that today would slip away from the child’s mind in just a few hours while tonight would stick with him forever.

A light turned on in the house and he apparated a few feet away, crouching down in the tall swaying grass out front to hide himself.

The door opened to reveal an old woman with long grey hair and a wrinkled but kind face. She was already slightly bent over but she looked up and around for whoever knocked on the door. She stared into the distance for a long moment before the baby at her feet made a noise and she jumped.

“Oh my god,” she cried out and she hurriedly bent down to grab the child.

She hoisted him up in her arms and softly pulled aside the blanket to reveal his face. She cradled his face gently while whispering and Regulus knew he had made the right decision- that she would take care of this boy for as long as he needed.

The door shut behind him and just like that, he was alone again.

A tear slid down his face as he apparated away with a crack loud enough to echo across the sprawling fields.

_______

There was a tray of food left under stasis on the desk of his room. It was a simple sandwich with salad on the side and Regulus instantly knew Kreacher had left it there for him. He realised that he hadn’t eaten a single thing all day, even earlier if he thought about it considering his little kidnapping.

The thought of eating now only made his appetite disappear even more and he just vanished the entire tray, thankful for the thought but feeling entirely undeserving of it nonetheless. Not eating was just the easier option most days.

After a burning hot shower, his skin felt raw and painful to the touch but he didn’t feel clean until he had reached that point. His skin bled in certain spots from scrubbing too hard, as though taking off a layer of skin would erase tonight but it wouldn’t. The memories embedded themselves deeply in his brain and he couldn’t very well scrub that clean.

He curled into a ball in the centre of his bed, his mind silent as it played the baby’s eyes, Dennis’ face, Abena’s pleas in a mute record. It was like watching a black and white Muggle film where one was left to imagine the words and understand the characters’ emotions through their facial expressions only Regulus didn’t have to quite imagine their despair.

His eyes drifted to his alarm clock on the side table and he caught that today was August 1st.

Only one more month till he was back at school.

He was a horrible person, but he was still human, and despite being entirely undeserving, he unfolded himself and gingerly walked to his book bag hung on a hook beside his closet.

He opened the latch and dug through it, pulling out books and opening pockets, brushing his finger against all the smaller notes James left throughout the year, until he got to his Defence Against the Dark Arts book.

James’ letter was left just on the inside of the cover.

The envelope was labelled with the same looping handwriting that James claimed to have done via spell and he ran his finger over the ink, as though he could run his hands over the smooth skin of James’ hand.

He felt the ghost of his touch against his lips when he fed him that one time by the Lake. His body remembered the way it arched to his touch and warmed whenever he trailed his fingers across it in a lazy track. The scar on his abdomen pulled and his lips chilled in the absence of James.

James was written all over him and yet Regulus still craved his touch. He wasn’t sure he could handle much longer without it.

But for now the letter would have to do so he cracked the wax seal and pulled the paper out, breaking the vow he made when he said he was undeserving to read his words because no matter how true they were, it was impossible to deny James’ intoxicating allure.

_______

He woke up to a featherlight touch trailing along his bare back as sunlight burned against the back of his eyelids. The pillow under him was soft and the sheets were lazily strewn about and he felt comfortable as he stretched his tight muscles slightly.

“Good morning,” a quiet voice murmured and Regulus turned to the voice.

“James,” he slurred, caught off guard. He looked around and saw they were in the Room Of Requirement and he was in their conjured bed. The room looked the same with the sofas, books, and hearth all still there. 

Everything looked the same except for-

“I asked the room for some windows,” James smiled and Regulus refocused on him, “They’re fake though so no one can see us anyways.”

His face was soft from sleep, his earthy eyes still heavy lidded and hair mussed. He smiled lazily down at Regulus as he braced his head on his arm and his top was off as well, the muscles in his golden chest and arm flexing as he continued tracing circles across his skin.

He felt so disoriented, “What are we doing here? I had-.”

“You just had a bad dream love,” James assured him, leaning down and pressing a warm kiss to his lips.

It was slow and languid, full of longing as James tracked his lips with his tongue before slipping it between his lips to deepen it. He moved his hand to cradle against Regulus’ cheek and all complaints fell away as he enjoyed this moment, eager to forget anything he thought to be true.

Suddenly, James froze and his lips turned ice cold as he stilled his movements and Regulus opened his eyes, pulling away to look at him.

His eyes were blown wide in fear as he stared down at him.

“James?” he asked, concerned as he sat up hastily.

“Regulus?” he whispered fearfully, looking down at him.

Regulus looked down and suddenly the bed they were in fell away like a fissure opening wide and then they were standing across each other in a dark and empty corridor. Nothing was visible aside from James’ silhouette a few feet away. Regulus knew it anywhere, had the figure of him memorised in his mind.

When Regulus tried to move to him, his feet were frozen in place, and suddenly his arm was raised.

He couldn’t force himself to speak to James who cowered in fear across from him. Tears welled in his eyes and Regulus felt this body betray him as he fought to run to him, to protect him from…himself. It was a living nightmare.

“Avada Kedavra!” he heard his own voice shout and James’ figure instantly crumpled to the floor.

Only then was the spell on him released, and an earth shattering roar ripped from his throat as he ran to James, tripping over his own feet in the process as he crawled the rest of the way to him.

“Nonono” he cried, pulling James’ limp figure into his lap, he slapped his face harshly, “Wake up please.”

It felt so viscerally real, the pain a living and breathing thing as it sank its claws into him, pulling and tearing at his innards, but it was still nothing compared to seeing James’ body fall and hit the ground with an audible thump. Feeling his skin run ice cold and his eyes shut.

He threw his head back and cried, feeling tears slide down his face in hot tracks, burning his skin so brightly he felt like he was being flayed.

He felt a harsh jolt to the back and suddenly he was thrown forward, falling through the stone floors of the corridor they were situated in, and he opened his eyes to be faced with his room again. Kreacher stood at the foot of the bed, staring up at him with wide eyes. He was pulling at the tea cloth he was wrapped in and he looked genuinely distressed, Regulus didn’t think he’d ever seen him look so concerned.

“Master Regulus was screaming. He is needing help, he-.”

“Get out,” he breathed out, his throat dry and scratchy.

“He is-.”

“Get out Kreacher!” he shouted at the elf, throwing his arms wide out.

He disappeared and Regulus just dropped his head in his hands.

It was just a dream but it felt so real…so painfully real.

He ached for something that hadn’t even come to pass.

_______

“Yes Mrs. Black, my father is indeed well but certainly more busy than usual these days,” Pandora smiled but Regulus saw the tension in her shoulders, the haunted quality to her normally bright blue eyes, the way her hands trembled just like his continued to do on bad days.

“Oh I’m sure, well take as much time as you need,” his mother said before leaving the two of them alone.

“Pandora I-,” he only managed to say before she gripped his arm tight enough to hurt.

She looked practically manic as she stared at him, her eyes boring deep into his soul as her hand held him as though she was trying to steal his very own life force.

“What is it?” he gasped, feeling her breath hit him in hot pants as her entire body began to shake.

“I saw something- I saw- my gods, It was the end,” she gasped before she went limp in his arms, passing out against him as he gently dropped them both to the floor.

He couldn’t help but remember that he had been holding James in this exact position in his dreams and while he was no Seer, the deja vu racked through him like a tidal wave.

As she was taken to St. Mungo’s, he couldn’t help but wonder what it was she had seen. The end of what? The sheer urgency of her voice terrified him and the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to know what future Pandora believed would come true.

She came to him specifically with this, an act she knew was risky-…if she saw James, or Sirius-

No. He refused to consider it.

He just continued to hold her hand in the bright white room of St. Mungo’s, listening to her rhythmic breathing, keeping her warm hand in his, and whether it was more for her support or his- he wasn’t sure.

Chapter Text

“She’ll be okay, we believe the cause of her collapse was ‘mental overload’- once you told us she was a Seer, it made much more sense. Oftentimes Seer’s, especially young ones like her, can get easily overwhelmed with what they believe they see. She’ll be able to better handle them once she’s older but she should wake up in the next couple of hours and if all’s well, she can go home,” the nice Healer, Collins, informed him.

Regulus was the only one there with her. He imagined his mother contacted Lestrange Sr. and told him what happened and where she was but he hadn’t shown up. He imagined the heartless man would only make an appearance if Pandora was on her deathbed and even then, that was a maybe.

That’s pretty much what it would have to take for them to pay attention to her.

It was genuinely heartbreaking to see how little her father or brothers cared for her. Growing up, he’d watch her beg her brothers to play with them, or to be able to just sit and watch as they did whatever they did together like a piece of furniture. They constantly refused her by shutting the door or pushing her away- they treated her like a pest rather than a family member.

And so Regulus vowed to stay with her, for all the times she helped him feel less alone.

The magical scan above her continued to beat rhythmically, tracking each breath and each beat of her heart with perfect precision. He was more interested in the image that showed her brain waves, obsessively checking each rise and crest for any changes but none came.

Last night was another sleepless night considering the nightmare he had wiped any traces of slumber he might have gotten and his eyes were already beginning to fall shut once more. They felt like they were being weighed down and he knew he’d feel worse if Pandora woke up to him knocked out by her bedside.

He slowly extended his limbs and unfolded himself from the small chair he had curled up in and walked out in search of a quick coffee.

Managing it to the bottom floor, he grabbed a cup of flavourless coffee and ambled around the floor just to stretch his legs and get his blood flowing once more. He passed by groups of people chatting, some talking rather seriously to each other, and groups of medi-witches and wizards hanging out on what was probably their break.

Everyone was too wrapped up in whatever they were dealing with to notice each other so when he ran right into someone, he wasn’t rather surprised.

His coffee burned his hand as it spilled over the open lid and he watched it splatter all across the mans’ leather shoes, “I’m so sorry,” he spurted instantly.

He turned to look at the man in question and instantly stopped short.

He was about his height, if just an inch or two shy of it. He had caramel coloured skin and wild dark brown hair that had grey threaded through it, maturing his look only slightly. He had glasses perched just on the edge of his strong prominent nose and Regulus had to physically restrain himself from gaping.

It was as though he had used a time turner and gone to the future because he was literally looking at James…sure there were slight differences in features- thinner lips, a more square jaw, and a calm demeanour, but it seemed minimal in the face of the larger picture.

“Don’t worry about it,” the man smiled serenely, pulling a long and thin wand out of his robes and pointing them at his shoes, instantly vanishing the mess, “All done.”

Regulus felt too stunned to move because he put the pieces together quickly- he’d seen this man on the Platform every holiday as well, arms outstretched to hug James, and later Sirius. This was James’ father .

He felt stupidly anxious now. It wasn’t like him and James were ‘dating’ or anything but this still felt like a big moment and of course, he’d gone and mucked it out by spilling cheap coffee all over his shoes.

“I still apologise, I didn’t see you-,” he babbled as though that would make up for it.

He reached a hand out, grasping Regulus’ arm lightly, “Hey, no worries, I hate these shoes anyways,” he winked. He paused, studying his face intently and Regulus could see him connecting the dots with a cringe but he didn’t react, his face remaining perfectly neutral. “That’s about the most exciting thing to happen to me today anyways. My coworker had a headache and he’s a bit of a hypochondriac and I felt bad so I tagged along. I’m certainly regretting that now though,” he finished with a huff as though they were in on this together.

He spoke so easily, as though Regulus wasn’t who he was. Sirius was practically the man’s son now and he expected him to react or accuse him of something maybe…anything really.

“How about you, is everything okay?” he seemed concerned, looking past his shoulder as though someone was coming.

“I- er- yes. It’s just my friend, she’s unwell, do you- do you know me?” he stuttered out stupidly and he wanted to smack himself.

“Of course I do Regulus, I may be old but my eyes still work just fine,” he said with mirth, a crooked smile forming, instantly making him look years younger.

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that, I just didn’t expect to see you I suppose…” he trailed off awkwardly.

“Would you like to sit?” he gestured to a small bench by them and Regulus just nodded mutely.

He carried himself with ease, his back straight and gait steady. He walked like James- a sway of the hip and a bounce in his step, but this man was just a mere shadow of that. He tried to recall his name but he couldn’t- Sirius always referred to him as “James’ dad” whenever he spoke of them before, as though it was some precious secret he didn’t want to share with him.

“Your friend, will she be okay?” he inquired gently.

“Yes Mr. Potter. She just has a cold,” he covered for her, not really wanting to get into the details of it all right now.

He chuckled, “Please call me Monty, Mr. Potter just makes me feel old. James makes me feel older than I am as it is.”

Regulus smiled lightly, hearing someone else mention James after what felt like a drought without him lifted his mood slightly, easing his roiling spirit.

“How is he- everyone, your family?” Regulus asked in turn, trying to mind his manners when all he wanted was to know more about James.

There was an odd glint in Monty’s brown eyes, a secret sort of knowing lingering but Regulus couldn’t be sure, “They’re all well. Sirius and James just spend their days causing chaos then pretending not to know anything about it. Just last week, they went to Zonko’s and have yet to tell me what they got.”

Regulus could only imagine, “I’d keep an eye out for your eyes and toes,” he cautioned light-heartedly.

“And how has your summer been faring?” he asked, tone light but subdued.

Regulus wrung his hands then and though he knew they were slick with sweat, he couldn’t help but think it was blood. 

“It’s been good, very ah- restful,” he answered a bit evasively.

There was a beat of silence, “You know, you’re always welcome at our home. I’m sure the boys would be glad to see you, I know the summer holiday can feel so incredibly long without friends around.”

Regulus looked up into Monty’s imploring eyes and he wanted nothing more than to take him up on that offer. To say “Yes, I’d love to come over!”, to floo there right now through one of the many floos available but he couldn’t. He was a fool for even attempting to entertain the idea.

Even if he did show up, what would happen? Sirius certainly wouldn’t want to see him, not after how they ended things last term and he and James couldn’t do anything more than look at each other without suddenly looking incredibly suspicious. James also described how he couldn’t wait to see Regulus again in his letter but he wrote that before the holiday and an evil voice in his mind convinced him that those words might not reign true anymore after so much time apart.

“You don’t have to take me up on that offer now, or tomorrow, it’s open- any day of the year, any time of day, our floo is open,” he assured him and Regulus wondered how true that was as he remembered the floo flaring a bright red in his face, indicating that it had been shut off to him all that time ago.

“That’s very kind of you, thank you,” was all he said.

“Speaking of chaos, the wildest thing happened the other day. I was up getting a glass of water at what must’ve been the middle of night. I looked out my window and this huge owl came swooping in our open window, right for James who for some reason was also awake. I’m not sure what it was but he certainly looked excited to see it. He never mentioned it the following day though,” Monty asked with faux confusion evident in the way the corner of his lip turned up.

“How bizarre,” Regulus said lightly as he stood up, feeling like Monty’s question was a bit of a test or a game and he felt strangely inclined to play.

“It was nice to meet you, in person. I’ve always wanted to,” Monty admitted strangely. 

Regulus so often felt like a footnote in people’s lives that the idea of something thinking about him when he wasn’t in their immediate vicinity surprised him. He hesitated but confessed in a similar manner, “So have I. James is a remarkable person and I can see how he has turned out that way.”

“As are you Regulus,” he promised before reaching a hand out.

Regulus took it, shaking it once before letting go.

Monty sighed as he stepped back, “I’m tempted to spill some more coffee on myself if it means I get to go home early.”

He seemed years younger as he rolled his eyes and waved at Regulus one last time.

Regulus didn’t think he’d ever considered what it might be like to meet the Potters, having only heard of them through stories and while he had yet to meet James mum, it was already clear to him that his father adored him from the loving gleam in his eyes and the gratifying way he spoke of James as though he were a gift.

James was certainly the gift that kept on giving to him, it was only right that others saw him in the same light.

He had to suppress the secret smile that kept forming while he walked back up to Pandora’s room, this interaction waking him up way more than coffee ever could. 

_______

Pandora woke up dazed and confused so the Healers decided to let her stay an additional night and Regulus was deeply grateful for a night of respite for the two of them. While it wasn’t like their rowdy night away at Lelantus, it was a time for the two of them to relax in quiet, the way they often preferred it when it was just the two of them.

She fell back asleep and woke up a few hours later when the sun was a mere imprint in the sky, fading away with each ticking minute. He had summoned Kreacher to bring him a book from home to occupy his time but put it away once Pandora’s eyes opened and looked like they’d stay open for more than a few moments.

“I’m sorry I showed up unannounced then just kicked it. My vision it- it scared me Reg,” she whispered, her hand seeking his and he instantly offered it, squeezing her hand that felt far too cold. He cupped his hands in hers and rubbed, trying to offer some sort of relief to her paper thin skin.

“If you don’t want to talk about it I understand but you really worried me there Dora. The healers said it’ll take some time for you to adjust to your visions so-.”

“I do want to talk about it because what I saw…I dont’ think it’s something that time can heal,” she said gravely and it did nothing to soothe his prickly nerves and the hairs on the back of his neck stood in anticipation.

He just sent her a questioning look, leaning in closer.

Her bright crystal blue eyes seemed to glow in the dim room as she took in a shuddering breath, “I was in my room, aren’t I always, and I was looking at a photo album- nothing in particular but then I felt like I was falling but I was awake, I know I was. One minute I was there, then I was nowhere . It was black for a long moment then suddenly I saw Barty and Evan and Evan was crying. I tried to speak but I was frozen- it was terrifying but I didn’t know where they were, I’d never been there before, it looked like a house or something. Barty was yelling about something and his arm Regulus. He had the mark .”

A breath whooshed out of him.

Barty had no connection to the death eaters, especially not in the way he, Evan, or Pandora did. His father was a high-ranking Ministry official and despite all he did to neglect his son, he was on the straight and narrow, upholding the law as though he had created it.

He would never kneel at Voldemort’s feet so how had Barty gotten involved? He never personally harboured any sort of death eater sentiment like Mulciber or Avery so what made him get the mark? The mark wasn’t given to just anyone that walks by though either, only those that proved their dedication to the dark Lord.

A seed started to take root in his mind, an idea forming but Pandora continued,

“I wanted to see more but I couldn’t- it just went black. I tried to come back to myself, after reading about anchors and that from my mum’s journals but it didn’t work, I was lost in some sort of sea in my mind,” she gestured to her head as though it were a foreign body, “Then I saw you and Regulus…you were dead. I swear it. I don’t know where we were, it was some beach but I can’t be sure and your body was there. I couldn’t go to you but you weren’t breathing and I-” she started to cry, “I wanted to help you but I couldn’t, no one was there. It went black again but I tried to go back, I needed to find out more but it was like fighting a losing battle and-.” 

She was practically hyperventilating at this point, the words coming out of her in a mad rush and Regulus quickly climbed out of his chair and onto the bed she was in, bringing her to his side and cradling her head to his chest, keeping his arms wrapped around her. 

“Shh, I’m right here, we don’t know what it means, visions are never absolute, yeah?” he whispered in her ear, rocking slightly, and while she nodded, he felt relieved she couldn’t see his face because he felt true fear then.

He started to feel like he might pass out himself then, holding Pandora if just to keep himself upright now.

________

“Sit still,” the man barked, his French accent heavy and probably indiscernible to the untrained ear but to Regulus, it was as easy as understanding English. 

Regulus honestly wanted to laugh at the man and ask whether he could truly be anymore stereotypical as a black beret sat askew on his head and a cigarette hung loosely from his lips as he squinted at Regulus before mixing paint in his palette.

When his mother presented him with the idea of having a new portrait made for him a few days ago, he frowned, not seeing the need for it considering his last portrait was just a few short years ago. 

Typically, they’d only have portraits done every decade or so at the very least but she claimed that things had ‘changed’ since then and he needed a portrait that represented that.

He was just happy that Walburga hadn’t forced him to cut his hair. Sometimes he forgot himself that he had impulsively pierced his ear so early last year and it was only when he pushed his hair back that he actually remembered it was there. He wasn’t sure if his mother had seen it or not but she had yet to comment on that so he was glad for it, it still hurt to touch so he imagined ripping it out wouldn’t feel all that nice.

He was also, much to his chagrin, reminded of his embarrassing visit to Madam Pomfrey with James acting as his ward in which he had to explain how he had managed to hurt his ear via orange.

His back was ramrod straight in the chair, his feet together, and his head high as he forced himself to stay in the same position as he had been for the past three hours. He really wasn’t that big of an individual, how long did it really take to paint him?

The spindly man stood up and walked over to Regulus and he bent down to study him, his wide blue eyes assessing as he looked at Regulus like a specimen. He hummed as he held a paintbrush to Regulus' cheek and apparently he was pleased with the colour match as he sat back down.

“Pourquoi cela prend-il si longtemps?” (Why is this taking so long?), Regulus asked as he squirmed in his seat, his feet going numb with disuse.

“Ne précipitez pas la perfection” ( Do not rush perfection) , the man chided, blowing out a puff of smoke to the left of the canvas in front of him.

Walburga would probably have an aneurysm if she caught the man smoking indoors but he didn’t seem scared in the slightest. 

It seemed that those with talent deemed themselves above rules, as though their talent overshined everything else and anyone that opposed them would simply be forced to be deprived of their art.

The robes he was wearing were garish and oppressive, thick swaths of black and green fabric with brocade and silk all over it. He had a bright green cape that wrapped around him and signified his role as heir, further emphasised by the egg-size emerald pin resting on his breast.

The robe had to have been last updated in the 15th century because it looked ridiculous but he was forced to wear it and sit like a doll for this man to paint.

He finally finished a mere five hours afterwards and he ended up taking the painting with him to ‘touch-up’ so in the end, Regulus didn’t even receive the gratification of seeing it.

However, his interest in his previous portrait piqued again at around hour three so that evening, he snuck out of his room, making way to the attic where he knew he would find it.

The attic contained everything unwanted or forgotten over the years and he imagined that portrait was a bit of both of those things. When Sirius initially left, he just remembered elves taking down the portrait and disappearing with it but he didn’t think his mother ordered them destroyed, probably too lost in her own anguish to think that through.

He walked past stacks of old crumbling boxes and dusty shelves containing old tomes and other knick knacks that had just gathered over the years, their use either forgotten or just unneeded in the modern day.

There was a small skylight allowing watery grey light to filter in, the sun already setting now, and he used that to watch his step. He wouldn’t be surprised if there were critters making a home in this space and he definitely wasn’t very much in the mood to wrestle a rat.

Dust motes flitted aimlessly and he had to fight the urge to sneeze every time he passed an especially dusty area.

He finally made it to the back where portraits were lined up like vinyl records and he wondered what it must take to make the cut to make it into a Black family residence. In Grimmauld, there were portraits of people from decades, even centuries ago, so what was it about them that made them worthy enough to be displayed? Other family members like his aunt and cousins also have Black portraits in their houses as well, the number of them seemingly endless.

He pulled the cover off of one and saw a still portrait of a stern-faced man, his hairline still black but receding and his mouth turned down in a perpetual frown. Next to him was a small girl, standing to his left with a small hand on his knee, an almost absent gesture. Her blonde hair was curly and framed her face like a halo, making her seem angelic. She was the exact antithesis to the man and Regulus glanced down at the small placard that identified them as- ‘Ophiuchus Black and his daughter Delphina Black, 1842.’

He felt rather bad for the man because a name like that was horrendous. Growing up, he thought Regulus didn’t quite fit him, it didn’t roll off the tongue the way Sirius’ did but Sirius managed to convince him that their names rhymed so it was perfect.

It didn’t rhyme and it wasn’t perfect, but it had managed to make him smile.

He moved on to the next one and was taken aback. It was a portrait of a young woman- she had long black hair that flowed down her side in silky waves. Her eyes were bright and her lips were set in the softest of smiles, a barely there sort of look. Her hands were clasped in her lap and her body was angled towards the painter. The small placard identified her but while Regulus had an inkling of who this woman was, he still checked just to make sure- ‘ Walburga Black, 1943.’

He could barely reconcile the woman in the painting with the woman currently stalking around the house downstairs like a beast. 

The woman in this painting was demure, quiet, though her eyes seemed to hold endless depths that made anyone looking at her want to take a dip if just to know a fraction of what she did. His mothers eyes now just looked like steel, nothing more or less and if anyone tried to dig deeper, they would be stopped by a cold hard wall. She seemed to have lost that sort of depth of youth.

He moved onwards and finally found the portrait of Sirius and him.

Sirius was sitting on a large high-backed chair that resembled a throne. He was dressed in fine regalia, jet black robes, similar to the ones he himself wore that day, with jacquard and brocade stitched across it to further emphasise his status. A dark green cape was draped across his shoulder, held in place by a brooch the size of an ostrich egg. It was their family crest, the words ‘toujours pur’ placed directly beneath it. He was still young but his face was tight, his eyes cold and mouth set in a deep frown. The artist had clearly tried to smooth it because Regulus remembered how horrible he looked and felt that day in real life. His hair was slicked back from his face and his posture was better than Regulus had ever seen it.

Regulus stood next to him, a clear indication that he was second in line and not the direct heir. He was dressed in similar robes though he didn’t have a cape or the brooch. His face was straight, emotionless, and it was odd to see a child as small as him seem so lifeless. He looked like an extra insertion, as though he wasn’t originally there at all.

He stared at the painting as anger and sadness welled up in him.

After the painting was done, Sirius took his hand and ran upstairs with him. Regulus remembered sitting on his bed and watching him tear off the clothes without any care for how expensive or delicate they were.

“I’m never getting a portrait done again,” Sirius whined to him.

“I wanted to sit in a chair too,” Regulus frowned, having felt left out.

Sirius smiled then, sitting next to him, “Don’t worry Reg, when we’re older, I’ll get you a chair and we’ll take a whole bunch of pictures. And we won’t have to wear any of that old stuff, I’ll buy us matching leather jackets and then we’ll show mum how much better our pictures are.”

That portrait was the last time either of them were ever ‘pictured’ together for after he went to Hogwarts, their summers had grown a bit tense and only worsened until finally everything went to hell and he left.

His mouth tasted bitter as he stared at the Sirius in the portrait-the Sirius that lied to him about the future they had together. He hated the fact that that version of Sirius didn’t exist anymore.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the painting. The delicate curl of his eyelashes or the short hair at the nape of his neck. The way his own hand rested on Sirius’ shoulder, his slender fingers gripping his shoulder to keep him there, with him.

He released a growl of frustration as he forced himself to step back. He threw the cover back on it and turned away, knowing that if he stayed for even a moment more, he’d end up destroying the painting and despite his anger, he knew the small sentimental part of him would be destroyed if he did that.

He was walking out of the attic when his foot caught on something and he tripped, only managing to right himself at the very last moment.

He cursed, looking back to see the offending object and it was a small wooden box that was left haphazardly on the floor.

Deciding that he might as well investigate, he crouched down to inspect it, pleased to find it unlocked and he pulled the wooden cover off.

Inside was a tangle of jewellery. He couldn’t place any of it or decipher what was what beyond a mess of silver and gold chains all stuck together. He sat down, crossing his legs under him, and began to parse through them, seeing as he was already here, and all this jewellery was left behind and forgotten so he might as well nick something interesting. It was agonising but sort of therapeutic and eventually, he had managed to do it until he was left with about 6 necklaces, 3 bracelets, and some rings.

There was one silver necklace that especially caught his eye- the silver chain was delicate, thin and light in his fingers and in the centre, the chain melted into a smooth flat bar and when he held it up to the light, he could see something was engraved there- ‘ fortes fortuna adiuvat’

It meant ‘fortune favours the brave.’

He ran his thumb over the words as he considered them- it was the Gryffindor house maxim. He couldn’t possibly imagine why that was here or who it had belonged to.

The chain was well made, expensive by the looks of it, and he racked his mind, trying to place who it could’ve belonged to but not a single Black was coming to mind. Clearly there had to have been some Gryffindor if this was here for it couldn’t have been stolen either, no one that wasn’t Gryffindor would find use for it, especially a self-important Black.

An odd sort of emotion began to grow inside of him, one where his fingers prickled and his mind went fuzzy. It was the unsettling realisation that there had to have been another Black that was a Gryffindor, one that had been erased from history clearly for when Sirius was initially sorted into Gryffindor, his parents acted like he was the first one ever .

The Black family tapestry certainly had enough charred spots in it to let him know that anyone they didn’t approve of could be banished in a single instant.

As Regulus began putting the other necklaces back, he saw a twin one to the one he was holding but this was in gold. When it caught the light, he saw the words ‘ quocumque fine.’

‘To whatever end,’ a rather popular Slytherin expression referencing their ambition and determination and how most of them would do whatever it took to get what they wanted.

He mulled over the two necklaces and what they meant and his mind snagged on the metal specifically used. Gold was to Gryffindor and Silver was to Slytherin, so why were the metals switched?

It dawned on him that they were a pair . 

“Master Regulus, your dinner is being ready,” Kreacher called from the foot of the stairs that led to the attic and he was incredibly grateful that he hadn’t directly popped up here.

“I’m coming,” he called out, pocketing the necklaces swiftly and shutting the box away.

_______

“Today’s our last lesson before school,” Bellatrix frowned, clearly put out that Regulus won’t be her plaything for at least a few months.

“What a shame,” he replied half-heartedly, not even pretending to mean his words.

“And so today will be extra fun for us,” she redirected delightfully, “I feel as though you need to expand your magical arsenal so to speak,” she gestured widely, “I know we’ve worked so much with the Unforgivables but that was just to get you started, there’s truly a whole world of magic we’ve barely begun to get into.”

He frowned, picking apart her words. It was true that the world of magic was practically endless as new spells appeared by the day coupled with all the branches of magic that weren’t practised anymore- dark spells, necromancy, natural magic, etc. Much of that magic has either been lost to time or banned because of how dangerous they were.

He tried to figure out where Bellatrix was leading him before they got there because she didn’t seem like the type to use more primitive forms of magic as they were far too technical for her.

“Let’s duel, and I want you to use the most creative and effective spells you could possibly think of,” she said before immediately jumping into an offensive position, forcing him to raise his wand defensively.

They circled each other in the ballroom they had found themselves in again.

She took the first shot as she shouted something and a jet of red light shot out of her wand and  Regulus marvelled how the single stream of light suddenly broke apart like shattered glass and he threw up a shield charm at the last minute as he watched each prick against the shield like it was a pin cushion. He cringed imagining what it would be like had he been defenceless.

He rushed to think creatively and he remembered the spell he had used on Mulciber at the very beginning of the year and he swung his arm around before casting, the familiar rope of cobalt electricity jumping out of his wand and winding around Bellatrix’s leg. He jerked his arm back and pulled, taking her down.

Surely the duel was over by then but the expression on her face made him take pause- it was a mix of anger and admiration, proud that he had risen to the occasion but mad that she was hurt in the process. She quickly got back on her feet and began again.

Next was a stream of purple that broke his defence shield as though it were gossamer and the instant it touched him, he felt like he was being burned alive. He collapsed on the floor as pain lanced through his very bones. He clutched at the air and looked at Bellatrix wondering what she had possibly done.

She walked up to him and cast once more, twirling her wand in a lazy gesture, and the pain slowly but surely dissipated.

“I just melted all of your organs,” she smiled, “And fixed them again, you’re welcome.”

He growled in frustration, pushing his hair out of his face as he regained his strength and her eyes glinted with excitement.

The fight rapidly devolved as they flung spell after spell at each other. The air was filled with smoke and stunk of iron and sulphur but neither of them wanted to quit. 

It was only when they were both knocked down that they stopped. She spit blood out of her mouth and he wiped his hand under his nose where he could feel blood steadily pour out of. It wasn’t broken but it hurt as though it did.

The entire time she had been hurling insult after insult at him and he remained silent but now, he rose to the bait and had to respond.

She shrieked in frustration and he couldn’t help but smile, “Ready to give up so soon?” he jeered, feeling sick satisfaction.

She glared at him, standing back up shakily, “Cocky are we?”

“You wanted to be creative yet you haven’t shown me anything impressive. Suppose it takes a bit more intelligence for that,” he pushed, letting his tongue run loose.

It was true though. He had gone for odd spells, quickly adapting them to fit his current needs and he’d pulled out a tooth of hers, shrunk her hands, twisted her legs, and even charmed her hands to start hitting herself so that he didn’t have to put in any of the work. All of her spells were just savage, nothing particularly remarkable.

Just when he thought it was over, Bellatrix raised her black wand shakily and cast something silently with pure malice. All of her previous glee was gone and he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He knew that while Bellatrix wanted to teach him how to be better, she wanted to be the one in control and when she wasn’t, she was quick to resort to violence to regain it.

He’d need to restrain himself more next time. It was no matter because right now, he felt searing pain in his throat as he doubled over and gasped. No sound came out of his throat as he choked, clutching at it in desperation as though it could help ease the pain.

The pain quickly dulled to an aching throb and he went to say something but his throat pulled uncomfortably and nothing came out except a weak indiscernible rasping noise.

His cousin smiled, revealing rows of bloody teeth, “I’ve just taken your vocal cords. Maybe now you’ll learn to mind your words.”

_______

He got home late. It was far past midnight, and his parents were asleep. Even the elves had disappeared to wherever they went when they were not needed, and he was left alone.

His throat still ached but the pain wasn’t active and there was nowhere to go now even if he wanted to get help. He definitely did not want to go to St. Mungo’s and cause a big fuss, especially because he knew his parents would find a way to make this his fault, berating him for being a weak dueller or dense for not knowing how to fix this himself.

He imagined his mum would like this spell if she knew about it.

There was an odd sort of irony in this situation. 

Sirius always shouted at him, wondered why he never spoke back to his parents or stuck up for himself, why he always seemed to just go silent whenever something happened and he couldn’t explain how his voice just seemed to die around their parents. He’d always felt like his words would never matter in the face of them.

Now, his vocal cords were gone as a result of talking back for what was probably the first time ever.

The gods always had a sick sense of humour.

The following morning passed by peacefully seeing as he didn’t speak, instead dutifully following whatever his mum ordered of him for his final hours at home. He instead thought about what he would tell Madam Pomfrey because she’d likely have to be the one to help him with this little issue.

Kreacher however, studied him suspiciously as he gathered his things. He kept asking Regulus questions like, 'Will Master Regulus be needing this book?’ or ‘Which shirt is Master Regulus wanting to take?’ He just answered him with nods or shakes of the head and ignored whatever wasn’t a yes or no question.

He placed the two necklaces in the small pocket of his bag, the same one containing all of James’ notes before indicating to Kreacher that he was ready to go via a jerk of the head and shake of his hands.

The elf apparated them both to the platform instantly and Regulus finally breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of the bright red train pulling into the station, screeching to a stop and billowing smoke out the front.

It was a sight he’d never grow tired of, even if he did think the train would look better in green.

All of his worries melted away now that he was here, away from the clutches of his family and Voldemort, who he had been blissfully able to stay away after their little dinner together. 

Bellatrix continued to mention him often, bringing him along for more of her missions but none of them required bloodshed thankfully, instead they went hunting for magical artefacts, worked on recruitment, and spoke to various Ministry officials and subsequently Imperio’ing them if they did not fall into line.

It wasn’t enjoyable but better than the alternative he clearly knew more than enough about. He desperately wished to know how Abena’s child was but he hadn’t gotten a chance to check on him and now he’d be gone for a long while.

The last two months still weighed on him heavily, probably always would and he just knew that the next holiday, Christmas holiday, would likely contain much of the same but he pushed the thought of his mind for now.

People started piling into the train station and he turned to look around for his friends but was instead met with the searing sight of hazel eyes boring into him.

James.

He was staring at him with wide eyes, as though he was seeing him for the first time, and tension was written into every line of his body as though he were restraining himself from running over to him. His hands were clenched into fists and his feet were angled toward him almost magnetically.

Regulus could swear he saw his foot move an inch in his direction.

They could be the only two people on the platform for how everyone else seemed to just melt away, leaving the two of them alone there.

A breathtakingly beautiful smile broke out on James’ face and Regulus felt like he had been locked away in a dark room for two months and only now was the Sun shining on him again. He missed James’ warmth desperately. He wanted to hold his hands, run his cold fingers along his brow, and wrap his arms around him, anything to get closer.

He ached for so much in the span of a single moment.

Then from behind James, Monty waved at him and Regulus was forced to awkwardly wave back, catching the attention of James and Sirius as well, who stared at the interaction with confusion.

It was odd enough to snap him out of that trance and he sent Kreacher away with a kind wave before boarding the train.

It was still rather early, they had about an hour and a half before the train was scheduled to depart and most people tended to board in the last fifteen minutes as they weren’t as eager as him to leave their families.

He made his way to the usual cabin he shared with his friends towards the back, shutting the door behind him and settling down on his bench, rummaging in his bag to pull out a book to pass the time as he listened to the low hum on the train.

Only a few minutes passed before the door to his cabin was thrown open and he was about to say something in protest before he remembered he couldn’t and he resorted to throwing the intruder an angry look.

Only it was James and he looked so lovely and even more beautiful than Regulus had remembered that his breath was taken away.

There was a moment of taut silence before James crumbled, throwing his arms out wide and moving towards him with a shaky smile and it was like something snapped in him and Regulus jumped from his seat and onto James, slamming the door shut again and pulling the window shades down all while he tackled him.

The compartment was small but he still latched onto James who easily carried his weight, manoeuvring him so that his hands rested just under his hips as Regulus wrapped his legs around his middle, eager to be as close to him as possible after so much time apart.

James buried his head in his neck, “Gods I missed you so much Reg,” he whispered and the words were like music to his hears/

He held onto him tighter and used that clever trick of his again to speak into James’ mind, “ I missed you too.”

James just laughed as he pulled away and Regulus disentangled himself from him though James kept a tight hold on his hands, pulling him in instead for a lingering kiss.

It started out light, hesitant, as though testing Regulus’ feelings but once Regulus responded with equal need, James let go of restraint, his tongue brushing against the seam of his lips before pushing through. Thrills of want burst through Regulus as he dug his fingers into James’ hair, pulling just slightly at the hair at his nape.

A low keening sound elicited from James and it exhilarated Regulus further to know that James missed him just as much as he did him.

James pulled back for just a moment, his forehead resting against Regulus’ and his pupils were blown wide as he spoke, “Did you get my letters?”

He nodded eagerly, his fingers trailing small circles into James’ neck. He missed the feel of him so much, the way their bodies moulded together so perfectly that it was simply meant to be, no matter how much he disagreed with the notion of ‘fate.’

“Your letter was interesting,” he whispered against his lips with a laugh.

Regulus just dropped another kiss onto his lips, unable to stay away for long.

James brought a hand up to his cheek, caressing the smooth skin there and whispered, “I missed the sound of your voice,” he kissed his lips, “Your smile,” he kissed the edge of his mouth, “your eyes,” he kissed his temple, “your nose,” he kissed the tip of his nose.

“Did you come back as you are?” he asked, referencing his plea from before the holiday. “Please tell me you’re okay,” he begged.

Regulus nodded fervently, gripping James’ sides hard enough to probably hurt.

“Talk to me please,” James whispered against his lips, desperation lacing every word.

Regulus could only stare into his eyes, falling into his embrace, as he said, “ I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked so innocently that it was almost like a physical blow.

“ I got sick over holiday, the Healers told me to not speak for a few weeks or until it gets better,” he answered. 

Lying to James felt like the worst of sins but it was necessary. Regulus couldn’t possibly tell him the truth- it would be too much for either of them but especially James who just didn’t understand his family dynamic or why they had even gotten into that situation in the first place.

He couldn’t tell James that he and Bellatrix were duelling to make him a more creative killer or that Voldemort wanted him to work on his skills to make for a better soldier.

He wanted to keep James far away from that part of his life.

James’ expression just softened further, “But you’re better now?” His fingers trailed just under the hem of his shirt, skirting against the sensitive skin there and causing heat to pool in his belly.

Regulus nodded earnestly.

“Now what was that with my dad ?” he asked, unable to contain his laughter.

“ Didn’t Monty tell you? We’re mates now, ” Regulus teased.

James guffawed in laughter as he shook his head fondly, “You are full of surprises aren’t you.”

Regulus bit his lips as he nodded before pushing James back, causing the backs of his knees to hit the bench and seating him. He looked up at Regulus, resting his hands on his hips before pulling them toward him and Regulus fell easily into his lap, straddling him, his hands resting on James’ shoulders.

James just groaned, “Gods,” as his head tilted back, his doe eyes staring up at Regulus with pure want. 

He looked at Regulus as though he held the entire world in his hands and Regulus didn’t even want to know how he looked at James because it was probably sad just how wrapped around his finger he was.

James’ fingers tightened against his sides, spurring him on, and Regulus licked his lips before leaning back down and they moved as one, Regulus kissing him, James biting on his bottom lip, making him gasp and roll his hips.

James was practically shaking as he held Regulus, “I’ve been thinking about you all summer. I thought you wouldn’t- I almost expected you to throw me out of here,” he gasped and Regulus wanted to smack him for being so stupid. How could he ever imagine Regulus rejecting him?

Regulus just answered by moving his hips against, grinding down against James and moving his hands to his tie, pulling it loose before unbuttoning the buttons at his collar so that he could gain access to the glorious column of his neck. He smelled like jasmine and sandalwood and Regulus greedily inhaled his scent before biting his neck, making James moan before he quickly peppered the spot with kisses, soothing the sting.

They were so lost in each other that they didn’t even notice the noise inside the train steadily increase and it was only when someone bumped against their door that they jumped apart, terrified that someone had just walked in.

Only after that momentary fear dissipated did they return to themselves, breathing heavily and staring at each other, basking in each other's presence.

Regulus wrinkled his nose a bit as he noticed the trail of love bites spanning from under his jaw down to his collarbone, they were red now but he knew they’d soon deepen to purple. He supposed he should feel a bit embarrassed but considering just how excited James was right now under him, he couldn’t find it in himself to be.

“ You should go ,” Regulus said kindly to James, running a pale finger across his cheekbone that was dusted with little freckles after the summer.

“But I don’t want to,” James frowned, dropping head down onto Regulus’ chest, his arms curling around him tightly.

Another jolt to their door had Regulus climbing out of his lap, pulling him up, and redirecting him out the door.

He threw James out and apparently right into the waiting arms of Barty.

“Fancy seeing you here Potter,” he drawled, hauling him back up and back.

James looked terrified as he looked at Barty, back to him, and to Evan and Dorcas behind him. He quickly stammered, “I- Regulus- er, Black was just-.”

“You really are hopeless,” Barty rolled his eyes, “We know, obviously.”

“Oh my gods Reg, you literally mauled him,” Dorcas said wide-eyed, pointing at James’ neck.

James hastily fixed his tie and pulled his collar up high, “Thanks.” It was no use fixing his hair, if anything Regulus made it look better than it had before.

“Mhm,” they all said in unison.

Regulus thought it was rather cute seeing James all flustered in the face of his friends but he also felt a bit sorry for him. With a final lingering look, he stepped back into the cabin, his friends right behind him.

He explained what happened to his friends quickly and settled back in for the long train ride to school.

He shut his eyes and pulled his robes tighter around himself and as if on cue, he shoved his hands in his pockets and there was a small folded piece of parchment.

My love,

Lake tonight! I hope you’ve still got your swimming costume

Missed you so much

Yours,

J.P.

He fought to keep a ridiculous smile off his face.

Chapter Text

His things ended up in his assigned dorm and it was with a bit of melancholy that he walked down to dungeons.

He missed his friends dearly and loved the aesthetic and feel of the Slytherin dorms and common room but he had spent almost the entirety of the previous year in the Ravenclaw dorms with Pandora that now he just felt lonely without her presence, like they were conjoined at the hip and had only just now been medically separated.

He glanced out of the large glass windows of the Common room and because it was already night, the Lake had zero visibility but he still forced himself to stare out into that dark abyss to prepare for his meeting with James tonight.

The night was warm and the sky was clear when he finally made it out after having found his swimming costume shoved at the bottom of his trunk. He threw his robes on over top and snuck past both Filch and nosy prefects who took their jobs far too seriously on his way, but he made it and was grateful to already see James by the Lake.

His hair had grown longer over the break, curling around his ears and down his neck and his skin looked radiant after days out in the sun as though he had been recharged. Even though they had seen each other that morning, it still wasn’t enough and Regulus already knew they were treading down a dangerous path. 

Last year, they cherished whatever moments they could find together but Regulus already knew that this year they would make time for each other just to remain sane. James was like a drug he was unwilling to give up. 

Regulus kept his steps light as he approached and he managed to walk right up to James without him hearing a single thing. Suddenly, he dropped his hands down onto his shoulders and shouted ‘Boo!’ in his mind.

James jumped out of his skin, turning to look at him, “Don’t do that,” he chided, resting a hand on his chest.

“Constant vigilance Potter,” he tutted, rounding him and pressing a kiss to his lip before sitting next to him, their legs set flush together and their shoulders brushing.

“Well I’ll just have to keep you around to protect me then,” he hummed thoughtfully.

“Oh that’s the only reason?” Regulus teased.

“Among others,” James nudged.

James proved it to him when they both ended up breathless and on their backs in the dewey grass.

“Do you remember that night we fell asleep together out here?” James whispered as he wrapped his arms around Regulus and nestled to his side.

“I remember being horrified when I woke up. On top of that, you sleep like a rock and you wouldn’t wake up, sorry for the hex by the way, I don’t think I ever actually apologised for that,” he laughed but it just came out weak and hoarse.

“I actually woke up at one point in the night you know,” he recalled, “The sun had just barely risen, the sky was still sort of grey at that point. I realised we fell asleep but I didn’t want to wake you up because I didn’t want that night to end. You looked so beautiful when you slept that I just went back to sleep, I guess I didn’t consider how late we’d wake up.”

“Pandora’s roommates interrogated me when I got back, that wasn’t very fun either,” Regulus said but his mind caught on James’ words and replayed them in his mind like a song.

“When I got back, they were all still sleeping, late risers as per usual. I’m usually the first one up so none of them noticed thankfully,” he said with a huff. “That does remind me,” he said, propping his head up so he could look down at Regulus, “How do your friends know about us? And why did you send me a bottle of whiskey? Feel free to answer in an order of your choosing.”

Regulus just rolled his eyes, “Well, funnily enough the two are connected. They all kidnapped me about halfway through summer and we went out to a club. While we were there, Pandora mentioned that she saw all of you at Diagon. I was incredibly drunk and sad and mentioned how I might have been missing you a bit,” he said shakily with a smile, “And I blurted it out then and there. My friends, being supportive as they are, decided to steal the club’s owl so that I could send you a letter. The barman forced us to buy whiskey, we don’t like whiskey, so we sent it along to you.”

James listened along intently. His eyes boring into his own while he listened, laughing at some parts while shaking his head at others. Regulus was reminded how overwhelming having the whole of James’ attention was, it was a feeling he wasn’t sure he’d ever be used to.

It made him want to spill everything that had happened over summer, unleash everything that he had been holding in just because he was sure James could already see it brewing within him.

He looked away first, refocusing on the sprawling grass ahead of them. 

James put his hand over Regulus’, his thumb tracing idle patterns across the sensitive skin there, “Well I’m happy they saw you, I was worried as well. That letter gave me some peace of mind over the holiday, it felt so long without you.”

“I was sure you’d have enjoyed the holiday without me there to annoy you,” Regulus retorted and he wasn’t quite sure whether he meant to say that. Perhaps he had, as a way to answer the subconscious question that had been sitting since they separated.

James made an incredulous noise, straightening up, “You are everything to me but an annoyance. In fact, I love- spending time with you. More than anyone else,” he finished with a kiss.

Regulus couldn’t decipher whether that pause was intentional or a slip or whether it was meant to cover up the rest of what he had wanted to say. Surely James hadn’t meant to say anything else? He couldn’t deny the way his heart leaped then sank nonetheless and it was only confirmation of a feeling that had been there for him for quite a long time now.

“I’ve been made Head Boy you know?” James continued on.

At this Regulus whipped his head back around and dropped his jaw just to display his shock, “ Surely you’re lying? You? Head Boy? You weren’t even a Prefect.”

“I’m just that good,” he shrugged, pure arrogance in his tone but it was endearing nonetheless.

They teased each other back and forth, caught up on stories over the summer- though majority of them came from James’ side, and had a few quiet moments with each other, simply enjoying this time together. It was everything Regulus could’ve asked for and more.

“I- nevermind,” James began, then stopped himself before he had even gotten more than a syllable out.

Regulus nudged him in question, wanting him to continue as his face had gone from serene to confused in the past couple minutes, like something had popped into his head suddenly and had been bothering him since. Regulus instantly noticed the change and had been waiting for him to bring it up first and now that he had, he wanted him to continue.

“It’s nothing, I just. I was thinking about how your friends know, and Remus does now too. I was just thinking about Sirius, about whether he- whether he would mind I guess,” he trailed off, lips sinking into his bottom lip as though he already knew the answer to that question.

Regulus didn’t know what to say. He knew Sirius would be furious, would probably kill him if he ever found out and it would probably cause irreparable damage to his and James’ friendship. If he came to know that others already knew as well, especially Remus who was his partner, a new development he had noticed at Dinner, he couldn’t imagine the damage there either. 

Sirius was brash and impulsive and when threatened, he tended to lash out, rather violently as well. He had their mother’s talent of knowing people’s weak spots and clawing into them at opportune moments.

It would ruin everything they had.

And yet, he could see the way James carried the tension. How in class James’ hand twitched on the tabletop before he pulled it back in or when they passed each other in the corridors, James’ footsteps would stutter for a beat before continuing. James’ love language seemed to be just about all of them and yet, he restrained himself entirely when Sirius was near.

“What do you think?” he asked completely genuinely. He knew exactly how Sirius would react but he knew Sirius differently than James did. Would Sirius allow his brother amnesty simply because of his love for James or would it make the betrayal even worse?

He sighed, “I don’t know. I want to tell him but I know Sirius. He’d be furious at the very least, murderous at best. I want him to know, we tell everything to each other, and maybe I’m being selfish but I don’t want to ruin what we have,” he trailed off at the end, words falling to a whisper on the breeze.

“It’s not selfish to choose yourself,” Regulus whispered, reassuring him in the way he knew best. James was a giver, in every sense of the word, that when it came to himself, he seemed to find the idea of picking himself rather impossible.

“You never follow your own advice,” James murmured, smiling softly up at him.

Of course he didn’t, choices were for the lucky- he was born unlucky.

“Let’s go for a swim,” Regulus suggested and James’ eyebrows jumped up in surprise but he didn’t hesitate in standing, stretching his muscles out, and making for the Lake.

“Never thought I’d see the day you brought up swimming first,” he noted.

“Well that’s why we’re here isn’t it?”   he sniped back, biting back a smile.

“Remind me to thank McGonagall for that,” he shouted over his shoulder, already wading into the water.

He imagined McGonagall’s charm remained on the Lake so that coupled with the still warm temperatures likely left the Lake feeling more like a sauna than the dark cold pit it usually felt like.

Regulus followed in after him and he waited for that familiar fear to take over him but it never came. His heart sped a bit and he felt jittery but it was a far cry from the fear that used to seize him at the mere sight of the water and a wave of gratefulness for James washed over him for without him, he was sure this would never have happened.

They made it waist deep in the water before reconnecting, looping their arms around each other. The moon hung low in the sky, almost full but not quite, and Regulus could see its’ reflection in James’ eyes beneath his glasses.

“Are you ready to actually learn how to swim?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Is that not what we’ve been doing?”

He hummed, “Well you’re in the water but you don’t know how to actually do anything. You should learn how to float first and foremost,” he decided.

He then backed away and ducked under the water. Regulus waited in bated silence until he burst through the water, splashing him in the process, and he landed right on his back, stretching his arms and legs out wide while keeping his back high and flat.

Regulus wiped the water from his face, “How’d your glasses stay on through all that?” he had to ask.

“Sticking charms my love, I do think ahead y’know,” he smirked, keeping his neck straight.

His body floated just on the surface of the water while he kept all his limbs high and tight. He made it look easy with the smug look on his face but Regulus was sure he’d drown like dead weight if he tried that.

“I can’t do that,” he automatically retorted.

“You promised to try.”

Regulus sighed and backed up a bit to the shore and James followed.

He carefully guided Regulus to a sitting position before he ever so slowly straightened his legs and leaned back, James a steady pressure beneath him. Fear truly took over him now as his position became more precarious but James held strong, pulling Regulus’ body closer to him the more reclined he became.

James whispered encouragement and affirmations until Regulus was fully horizontal and James kept one hand under his back and the other under his legs to keep him up and it was nice if he could force his heart to start palpitating.

“ I don’t like this,” he said while he scrunched his eyes shut as James walked them out deeper into the water, swaying a bit. 

James laughed, “Learning how to float is like the most important part of swimming. If you ever happen to find yourself in a body of water and I’m not around, floating is your best bet at making it back out.”

“You say that like you always plan on being around,” Regulus huffed. 

“Because I do,” James smiled before his voice became a distant sound.

Regulus cracked an eye open to see James grinning down at him a few paces away.

He was floating on his own.

_______

He headed into the Hospital Wing the following morning before classes. He was quite unhappy about it, knowing that Madam Pomfrey would probably haggle him into finding out what happened before describing an uncomfortable treatment plan, as most were but his worries entirely dissipated when he received a rather happy surprise on the way. 

He was almost there when he saw the Gryffindors coming in from Quidditch practice. Other teams had barely gotten around to discussing practice schedules but James kept his team working year round, holding practice right at sunrise as well because he held some belief about being up early and science and energy but Regulus knew he was just so excited to get the day started that he used practice as an excuse.

He was in Slytherin's quidditch team so he was very used to seeing the players in their kits but James just made it look downright obscene. He was walking far ahead of the group as others trailed behind messing around with each other completely unaware of their captain. 

His protective gear was left behind and his outer robes were slung over his shoulder leaving him behind in just the bare bones of his uniform. His dark brown trousers sat low and tight on his hips, the tie at the centre barely done up and his jersey was cropped, baring his midriff in a confident display, his muscles flexing as he walked with that signature lift of his hips with each step.

Regulus was sure he should get arrested for public indecency at the very least.

His glasses sat askew on his nose and his hair was messy and windswept and he was making right for the entrance Regulus was standing by and in an uncharacteristically bold move, Regulus redirected and made for the door, anxiously waiting for him to walk in.

Once he did, he immediately grabbed his wrist and ignoring all of his protests, he made straight for the nearest door which technically was the ‘Flying’ classroom but considering the practical aspect of the class, the room was never used. Desks were arranged in a random assortment of lines and groups and the board was marked with random notes students had left over the years and so Regulus had no qualms about shutting and locking the door behind him.

“I mean I’m not complaining but-” James began but was sharply cut off with a searing kiss to his lips, Regulus backing him up against the door he had just shut.

While he still had no space for words, he knew that when they were in this particular situation, words didn’t matter as much as action did, so he pushed their bodies close together and wrapped his fingers around James’ slight waist, digging his fingertips into the soft flesh revealed there.

“You always find new ways to drive me mad,” he managed to convey to James.

It was like he had grown even taller over the summer somehow and the height difference remained minimal but enough to have Regulus craning his neck just slightly but it made trailing kisses down the column of his neck easier.

His shoulders felt broader as Regulus trailed his hands over them, savouring the flexed muscle beneath.

While he couldn’t deny his ever increasing physical attraction for James, he couldn’t help but feeling like the desire had only intensified this year and he wasn’t sure if time apart was the only reason for it.

He had been obsessed with James for years, on and off. Ever since he first heard of James, his interest had been piqued and while he slowly grew to loathe him, there was only a fine line between love and hate and Regulus felt like he had finally overstepped that line.

Love was foreign to him, he wasn’t wholly sure what that might actually feel like. He felt platonic love and familial love, at one point, but romantic love was an entirely foreign concept to him. Even he and Barty had barely made it past platonic, only just experimenting with each other before giving it up as it just didn’t feel quite right.

But this, what he felt for James, was beyond anything he had ever felt before. 

James was trailing wet open-mouthed kisses down Regulus' neck and his hands travelled down to Regulus’ front, his hand slipping past the waistband of his trousers to press against his growing bulge. His hand moved so swiftly that Regulus instinctively tightened his hand against what he had been holding, his body preemptively tightening at the sensation.

Regulus was just cradling James’ neck when it happened and when he made an odd keening noise, Regulus instantly let go, “I’m so sorry I just-.”

James’ pupils were blown wide as he looked down at Regulus’ hands now gripping the jersey he wore at his shoulder.

Regulus couldn’t understand what had happened as he had pulled back immediately and as he was about to say something, James continued,

“Do it again,” he said breathlessly, his chest brushing against Regulus’ as he spoke.

Tentatively, Regulus raised his hand back to James’ neck and he slowly pressed, ever so slightly increasing the pressure around his neck and as though something had snapped, James had flipped them over and pushed Regulus further into the room.

Just as James excited at the pressure, Regulus revelled in the power of the hold he had over him.

James pushed him until his back hit a table and he braced himself against it, pushing his tongue through James’ soft lips as they shared a single breath between each other. Breathing air was nothing compared to the life they took from each other.

What had started as Regulus pushing for James had slowly morphed into James needing Regulus and he dropped to his knees in front of Regulus, his deft and calloused fingers scraping against Regulus’ stomach as he trailed down to his waistband, pulling at his belt and throwing it aside.

Regulus’ pleas had gone silent, reducing his mind to a singular state of want as he looked down at James.

James looked up at him through his eyelashes and Regulus could barely contain himself.

“Gods, you’re so beautiful,” James whispered up to him.

All Regulus could do was throw his head back in want as James touched and stroked and kissed every part of him as though he could piece him together through touch and love alone. As though he had been made for the singular purpose of pleasuring and caring for Regulus.

_______

“And how did this happen?” Madam Pomfrey asked, one eyebrow piqued as she glanced sideways at James sitting in the chair beside his bed.

If there was one thing James did not know, it was subtlety. Regulus tried teaching him the concept many times and just when he thought James might be getting it, he went on to personally escort him to the Hospital Wing after their classroom tryst and stay there, under the condition that he put his robes back on because the mediwitch really did not need to see more of him than she had to, a feeling Regulus did not share.

He wasn’t quite sure how he could speak to Madam Pomfrey now with him here but thankfully, the mediwitch seemed to have taken a hint.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Black seems just fine, I think it best you go on to breakfast now,” she said sternly.

“But I-” James began.

“That was an order Potter,” she said with a look and he gaped for a moment longer before leaving, lingering by the doorway before waving at Regulus with a crooked smile through the crack in his closed curtains.

Once he was gone, Madam Pomfrey instantly softened and instead of going in as harshly as he expected, she sat in the chair James had just vacated. She smoothed down her crisp white robes and looked at Regulus with kind eyes, they were the shade of blue akin to the sky on a clear summer’s day. If eyes were the window to the soul, hers was as pure as larimar.

“Regulus,” his name seemed so foreign in her mouth despite how often he seemed to end up here, “You’ve come here more and more frequently since last year and while my job is solely to heal all of you, I can’t help but care for each of you as though you were my own.” She spoke so sincerely that Regulus couldn’t help but believe her words, despite how illusory they seemed. “Your scans have grown increasingly concerning, especially considering last holiday, and I remained quiet as I know you did not want to speak on it but this…Regulus, it is as if your vocal cords just vanished.”

He was forced to look away and he breathed slowly, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. It was embarrassing and discomfiting to sit here and be analysed, being forced to reply to questions that just didn’t have answers.

He knew she wanted to know what happened and what was he supposed to say?

‘My cousin vanished them for being insolent’ or perhaps ‘I failed at duelling, this was my punishment and I deserved it.’ ‘I wish I could leave.’

He grabbed the parchment she had brought for him and scribbled harshly with the quill, ‘Can it be healed or not?’

She sighed and her eyes trailed down to his hand that vigorously shook, enough for him to notice as well and he instantly pulled back, folding his arm and tucking it away and out of sight.

“We can help you if you need-.”

More empty words. They were empty from James, Sirius, Monty, his friends, and even her- he was never leaving, he couldn’t understand why he was the only one that could get that.  

He pointed back to the paper instead.

“Yes it can be healed though with the injury you particularly sustained, it will be…taxing. It’s not as though we can use Skele-Gro like we can with bones or use a salve to help strained muscles. Whoever had removed them, so to speak, was skilled, doing so without injuring your whole or causing lasting pain. I can work with St. Mungo’s to-”

He instantly grabbed the quill and wrote, ‘I can’t go there. ”

“I’ll treat you here,” she acquiesced, “But we’ll have to work with them to essentially grow a form of the smooth muscle tissue then I will have to place them in your larynx through a relatively simple procedure as magic can do most of the work. Muggles don’t have the same luxury we are afforded,” she added.

It all sounded fine but, ‘How long will it take?’

She shrugged a bit, “I’m not sure yet but given the case, I think we can have this done by the end of the month.”

Horrible but truly not as bad as he expected given everything.

He nodded but she didn’t seem ready to let him go.

“I understand each of us have complex home lives but if you ever wanted to speak to someone, please know I am here. I understand why you would not want to speak to a Professor but I am entirely independent of them and can listen not just as an adult but as someone who truly cares for your wellbeing,” she urged, leaning forward in her chair.

Not wanting to draw this out any longer, he nodded, already moving past her to grab his bookbag and head to breakfast.

He heard her resigned sigh and just before he left, she called out, “Please come back in tomorrow, I should have more by then.”

He nodded and left, bracing for the month ahead of him.

______

The days were passing by frustratingly slowly.

He was always considered quiet but having his voice forcefully taken was an entirely other kind of hell.

He’d taken to carrying around a sheaf of parchment and responding that way as he didn’t quite feel like intruding on everyone’s mind and his hand was starting to ache. When no one listened to him, especially Evan and Barty, he went as far as crumpling up the paper and just throwing it at them to emphasise his point.

Specifically when Barty would talk in his sleep and force Regulus to get up quickly and shut him up right before he started saying Evan’s name considering they were still doing an odd sort of dance around each other.

Regulus had noticed certain changes though since coming back to the dorm.

Evan and Barty seemed to have mutual beds in that they just slept in either one, not really owning a single one and sometimes, they just fell asleep in the same one, which was curious as the bed barely held a single person. They had grown increasingly touchy with each other and Barty had yet to replace his last girlfriend, a girl who Regulus couldn’t even remember the name of anymore.

Evan had forgotten all about the boy he was previously speaking to as well, devoting all of his attention to Barty and receiving the whole of it in return as well.

It was only a matter of time Regulus thought. He wondered what was holding either of them back. Barty’s father would never approve but he never approved of what he did anyways and Evan’s mum supported him wholeheartedly, she loved Barty more than Evan it seemed. Regulus supposed it was just mere fear at that point. 

Nonetheless, the no speaking thing was especially frustrating in classes, specifically Potions.

“So Meadowes, how did you spend your holiday?” Sirius cheerfully asked his partner.

Regulus could practically hear her rolling her eyes and couldn’t help but smile.

“Since when did you care?” she retorted instantly.

He groaned, “Do you know how to be nice? Even civil perhaps? I’m just making conversation.”

“Make it with someone else,” she retorted.

“Are you hearing this Prongs?” Sirius said over to James who was sitting sideways in his seat so he could face everybody though Regulus could feel his eyes mostly trailing over him.

“I’m starting to think it’s your problem Pads,” he said with mock sorrow, “I like your nails Meadowes,” he added.

“Potter,” Dorcas acknowledged slyly, though her tone was miles nicer than it was before with Sirius.

None of his friends had actually spent any time with James but he wanted them to have a chance to because he really did feel like they’d like him if they had a chance to get to know him, after probably chewing his head off realistically. On the other hand, James never not loved anyone so he was sure there wouldn’t be a problem on his end either.

Sirius just scoffed.

His eyes then slid over to him and Regulus held his gaze, refusing to bow under the weight of it.

“And how was your summer?” he asked.

His voice held an edge to it, it was a challenge and Regulus was reminded of their argument at the end of last term, specifically the way Sirius mentioned how one of his first stops at school after coming back from the holiday was always the Hospital Wing and he was angrily reminded at how true that was.

He turned back around in his seat to refocus on their bubbling cauldron.

“Really? The silent treatment?” he said to his back.

James sighed, clearly torn at who to go for, but in the end he chose the middle road again by answering Sirius, “He’s sick so he lost his voice but Madam Pomfrey did say he’d get better soon.”

There was a momentary pause before, “Did she now?” he asked, his voice inquisitive and high as he clearly pieced apart James’ reply.

“Yeah she told me that-.”

Regulus kicked him.

It wasn’t one of his finer moments but he’s done worse so he could live with it.

At that instant, Dorcas’ cauldron bubbled over, coating their entire table and surroundings in fizzy purple liquid. His bookbag was drenched and James’ trousers were also covered in it courtesy of the way he was sitting.

Sirius and Dorcas instantly jumped out of their seats,

“What happened?” he whirled on her with a pointed finger.

“You were supposed to add the bat wings. I looked away for one second! I didn’t realise I had to walk you through every step,” she countered with equal anger.

Slughorn quickly bustled over and vanished the mess and he pinned them both with disappointed looks, “Our first potion of the year and you two have already failed. I’m afraid you’ll both have to come in after classes to make it up for partial credit.”

They both groaned, sitting back down in their seats angrily and Sirius just dropped his head down into his arms.

A look at their table showed the bat wings hidden on Dorcas’ other side and he looked up at her in question. She shrugged with a little hidden smile before pointing her wand at it and vanishing it. 

He quickly wrote something on a piece of parchment and handed it to her.

‘Thank you Cas.’

She wrote a reply and handed it back,

‘Always Reg.’

He then looked to James and placed a light hand on his knee, hidden to everyone except them. He couldn’t stay mad at him for long.

‘Sorry’ he mouthed for the earlier kick.

James just shook his head as his cheeks pinked, “I’ll get better at that, I promise.”

While the sentiment should have been reassuring, he just felt bad knowing that James had to work on lying to Sirius. He couldn’t help but feel like this was all his fault.

He could handle Sirius if he had to. If Sirius ever found out, he’d dealt with him before and was strong enough to face it.

He just didn’t know if James could.

______

Two weeks flew by easily and soon enough, it was time for the first Quidditch match of the season- Hufflepuff vs. Ravenclaw.

Excitement buzzed in the air as it always seemed to do when the first match of the season came around and Regulus couldn’t even temper down his own nerves.

People filled the stands and there was a relatively equal mix of reds, yellows, emeralds, and blues in each of the stands.

Whenever it was Gryffindor vs. Slytherin, clear house lines were drawn and respected and each house vouched for their own- Hufflepuffs often siding with Gryffindor and Ravenclaws with Slytherins, though with matches like these, the lines had a bit more flexibility.

It was how he had somehow ended up in the Ravenclaw stands with his friends on one side and James and his friends on the other.

Peter was apparently dating Sybill, a Ravenclaw girl in their year, and had wanted to watch the match with her and Pandora asked them all to watch with her so Dorcas invited Marlene and the girls up with her so it was an odd even ground between them all. He was squashed up between Barty and Pandora with Sirius and James in front of him, the others just sort of scattered all around the space.

The air was crisp and fresh, carrying the scent of fall from the forest and he savoured it as the players below shook hands and started mounting their brooms. He had been feeling off ever since last night so he hoped coming to the match and getting some fresh air would be good for him and while it felt nice, he couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something was ever so slightly off.

“Who do we think is going to win?” Marlene shouted over the crowd at them all. 

Their group shouted a mix of replies but the majority seemed to be for Hufflepuff and Regulus just had to agree though he was secretly rooting for Ravenclaw.

Pandora began filling him in on all the roommate drama he was missing whilst away though he had to admit he was only half listening as his stomach started to hurt, a twisting and churning sensation that wouldn’t quite abate.

The match started with a blaring of the horns and the players were off, instantly chucking bludgers and throwing quaffles at each other with wild fervour. 

“And Milena and Rhonda are fighting because she asked her to put on her shoes- are you listening to me?” she asked him, cutting herself off.

He nodded distractedly, blinking the black spots away from his vision and bracing his hands on the bench either side of him.

“Reg?” she asked again, placing a hand on his arm but the touch felt like it burned and he pulled away.

He waved her away, looking back at the game the instant Ravenclaw scored a goal. He sat rigidly for the rest of the match, not wanting to cause a scene by saying something while trying to regain the strength to stand back up quietly and on his own. 

He was getting really tired of feeling so sick all of the time but this was different as his chest felt tight despite the deep breaths he was taking. It felt worse with each breath, like a fist squeezing round his lungs, forcing the air back out before it had even gotten in. His arms trembled and his feet felt numb.

It was a type of pain he’d never felt before in his life as his vision swam.

He felt himself lean forward and he threw a hand out, bracing himself on James’ back for just a moment. He turned around in an instant, looking at him with concern in his wide eyes but Regulus quickly waved him away, mouthing an apology and forcing a smile on his face though he had a feeling it looked more like a grimace.

The next time the crowd cheered, it was for Hufflepuff and the noise felt amplified to his ears, making his skull start pounding and his head throb.

“Hey you okay?” Barty asked and Regulus was picking his head up from his shoulder- he hadn’t even realised he dropped it in the first place.

Something was definitely not okay.

He picked his hands back up and when he looked down, he saw that his fingertips were black. The area where his hands were resting around the bench were scorched black in the exact shape of his fingerprints.

The game went on in the background of his mind as he tried to sort himself out and within the hour, everyone around him jumped up in excitement as the Ravenclaw Seeker zoomed around the stands carrying a golden Snitch in his hands.

“I told you!” Sirius shouted at Peter who handed over two galleons over a likely bet.

He then turned around and shouted, “In your faces!” at the rest of them. He was just about to turn back but then he caught sight of Regulus, still sitting down but now clutching his chest.

“Reg?” he suddenly asked, crouching down so that they were eye level, his voice kinder and softer than he’d heard it in months.

“Sirius,” he mouthed, hating how he couldn’t even voice his name now despite how hard he tried.

“What’s wrong?’ he asked harshly, completely forgetting everyone around them and where they were.

Regulus continued to hold his middle as though everything would spill out if he let go. He shook his head, desperately trying to convey his feelings. He felt like a child again after Walburga had yelled at him for something and Sirius interrogated him immediately after to figure out what had happened and how he could help.

“We need to go to the Hospital Wing now” he ordered, “James help me,” he called over and James turned around in a heartbeat, all traces of joy instantly wiping from his face.

“Regulus?” he asked but his voice sounded faraway as static filled his ears.

He felt himself being hauled up as students all around him filed out of the stands now that the game had concluded but he barely took a step before his legs gave out and suddenly he was now looking up at the clear sky.

James and Sirius’ panicked faces looked down at him and he could almost imagine that their faces were smiling down at him, that there were no secrets between the three of them and they were just spending the day together.

He exhaled contentedly as his eyes fell shut on their own accord- funny how he wasn’t afraid of the dark here.

Chapter Text

Regulus’ skin was cold, so unbelievably cold and stiff it was as though he was dead.

The glowing monitor that showed Regulus’ pulse felt like a lie as James stared up at it. He kept two fingers around his slight wrist, feeling the barely there flutter of his pulse that indicated he was still alive, tethering himself to reality through the touch alone.

It was the dead of night, the hour where even the ghosts grew bored of wandering the halls and disappeared to the dark depths of the castle where students didn’t even traverse but it was also  the only time he could slip away from his friends, though he kept the Map in his pocket nonetheless.

Barty had no such issues as he sat on the other side of Regulus’ bed, staring down at him with all of his concentration as though his best friend would disappear if he looked away for even a second.

James didn’t know what to do or say in his presence.

Barty was here before him- James didn’t think he had left his side since it happened, and when he arrived just now, he almost turned around and left at Barty’s glare but upon consideration, he realised that this might have been some sort of test.

Barty was testing to see whether he’d crumple and run away at the first chance he got when challenged even slightly, and James was not one to back down, especially not when it came to Regulus, so he strode confidently in and took a seat right by Regulus’ other side. He supposed that was the right choice because Barty simply looked back down at his friend quietly.

“What did Madam Pomfrey say happened?” James whispered though there was no reason to be quiet- they were alone in the ward.

Madam Pomfrey had kicked him right out after he’d helped bring Regulus in but she allowed Sirius to remain after he shouted in her face to let him stay. She reluctantly acquiescenced and let him stay on the condition that he remain in the corner of the room while she worked all the while James was forced to pace the outside corridor and wait.

When Sirius came out, he was dazed and confused and upset and just mumbled something about how Madam Pomfrey didn’t know what was happening. James could tell he was incredibly upset and was forced to accompany him, with the help of Remus, back to the dorms.

Until now of course.

“She said she had a theory but she’d have to conduct some more tests in the morning to confirm them,” Barty answered curtly. “He’s stable for now though.”

James stared down at his still form, “Then why won’t he wake up?” He hated the way his voice broke at the end, the solid lump that had formed in his throat, forcing his words to come out all watery and strangled.

Barty looked up at him, brown eyes boring into his own, and James could see the wall he had built up around himself. It was the same look Regulus had before they had gotten close, the guarded air he carried that forced anyone nearby to look away.

“I don’t know,” was all he replied. He didn’t seem particularly mad at him but rather upset at the situation, unable to muster any sort of emotion besides grief and stress.

“But he came back from the holiday fine. I mean he was sick but he was getting better-” James started rambling.

“Sick?” the other boy questioned, looking up at him through his brows over Regulus.

“Yeah? Regulus said he was sick, something about a sore throat so he was on vocal rest,” James continued but Barty would’ve known this already and he felt his chest constrict.

“Of course,” he mumbled to himself, shaking his head at no one in particular before dropping it to his chest, elbows resting on the bed in front of him.

“What?” James pushed, stronger this time.

“He wasn’t sick, Potter. Have you not noticed the way he hasn’t spoken at all ? The amount of times he’s gone to Madam Pomfrey in the past week alone? The fact that he hasn’t actually been taking any medicine because none exists for the problem he has?” Barty asked rapidly as his voice gained power. He sounded genuinely confused as to how oblivious he was.

“But he told me everything was fine, he said-.”

“Well of course he did, he wouldn’t want you to worry,” he cut him off. “He was always rather self-sacrificing.”

James was struck with the memory of Regulus condemning him for his self-sacrificing nature, going on about how he was a typical Gryffindor and needed to put himself first for a change. And here he was, for some godforsaken reason that James still didn’t know, because he put him first rather than himself.

“Well what was it then?” he frowned.

Barty sighed, “I wouldn’t know what happened here anyways but my best bet is that Bellatrix has something to do with it.”

“Bellatrix?” he asked, not hiding his surprise.

He knew Bellatrix only briefly. She was leaving Hogwarts as he came in for his first year and even then, their interactions were very brief. They only crossed a few times in the hall and she and Sirius would hurl insults at each other before walking in separate directions once more. She was a bit of a menace at school to her classmates but she was also at the top of all of her classes so the professors didn’t quite seem to know what to do with her.

Sirius complained about her enough for him to know that she wasn’t a good person and Regulus mentioned her very offhandedly only a handful of times when talking about his cousins but the topic never came up often enough for him to be swayed either way about their particular relationship.

He also knew that she had married and was off with Lestrange so…

“What does she have to do with anything?” he continued.

Silence grew between them as Barty tore his eyes away from Regulus and looked at him. He paused then, so heavy that it felt like a weighted blanket had settled on them, and he seemed torn, like something was on the tip of his tongue but he couldn’t quite get it out. He steeled himself, adjusting in his chair before continuing, “She just taunts him sometimes, I don’t know, it's just a guess. He wasn’t sick though, she just messed with his vocal cords somehow.”

James knew something was off. Barty’s tone changed entirely enough to make him think that Bellatrix might be a plausible suspect but his explanation was shaky at best. He was hiding something.

Suddenly Regulus gasped deeply on the bed and both of their attention flew to him.

His body shook and his eyes opened but his gaze was unsteady as it flew around the room, barely settling on their faces for more than a moment. He started coughing violently and Barty jumped up immediately, grabbing pillows off the nearest bed and shoving them behind his back so that he could sit up.

James helped adjust him, “Reg?” he cried.

He covered his mouth with his hands as he kept coughing and when he pulled them away, they were covered with blood and more came out with each whoop.

“Madam Pomfrey!” James shouted shakily, unable to leave Regulus but needing her to come.

Her chambers were connected to the Wing and after a moment, the sound of a door opening came and she materialised in a robe and slippers.

“What happened?” She ordered them to speak as she already began moving around him.

“He was sleeping fine then he just started coughing ! ” Barty rushed, patting Regulus on the back to help him clear his airway.

Madam Pomfrey began waving her wand incessantly while commanding, “Potter, get me Blood Replenishing Potion off the shelf in the back.”

He stood frozen, unable to look away from Regulus’ grey and shaking form, his body tensed and his mind stopped. All functionality was swept away from his body and replaced with fear.

“Potter!” Barty shouted across from him and it was so loud that it forced him out of his stupor and he ran straight for the medicine cabinet in the back.

He pulled it and came back, unstopping it and pouring it down Regulus’ throat instantly. He kept coughing and James helplessly looked to Madam Pomfrey for help.

She disappeared and came back with three more potions he had no chance of knowing the names of and she tipped each one down his throat, timing them in between his coughing to ensure they had a chance to go down.

“Both of you out,” she commanded.

They were stunned enough by her words to slowly back out but not before seeing her wave her wand in a grand arc and seeing a bright lilac square hover over Regulus’ bed and within it, was an outline of Regulus’ body.

There were shimmering multicoloured lights all over it and before James could get a better look, he was thrown out of the Hospital Wing with nothing but Regulus’ blood on his arm and sickly horror.

______

Regulus woke up with aches racking his entire body- even breathing took Herculean effort.

It was dark in the Hospital Wing once more and he wasn’t quite sure how much time had passed since the Quidditch match where he’d passed out. He was alone but a lone light shone in the corner beyond his curtains showing that perhaps someone else was in the ward.

He straightened up slightly but his body screamed in protest so he just slumped back down, catching his breath once more.

Madam Pomfrey suddenly pulled back his curtains and looked down at him, her features contorted in what could only be described as pity.

“How are you feeling?” she asked, stepping in and waving her wand over him.

He shrugged, how was he supposed to feel? He felt like shite but she’d obviously know that so…

“It’s been two days since your coughing fit, do you remember that?” she asked.

He shook his head, his last memory was just of Sirius and James over him.

“Well it’s been three days since the match,” she supplied. 

She dawdled for a bit, checking and rechecking his scans, scribbling on her clipboard, and stepping away before coming back with water when he already had a vase on his bedside. He knew she was itching to say something and he was aching to hear the explanation for whatever the hell had happened to him.

Finally, she gave up and sat down, an immediate red flag in his eyes as he’d only ever seen her in perpetual action.

“Regulus, as you know magic sits within us like a well, we draw from it to cast and with each spell we perform, we give back to it as well. It’s an endless cycle of give and take and it keeps us healthy and alive and allows us to do what we do,” she began in an oddly philosophical fashion and he struggled to keep up, internally begging her to get to the point so he could go back to sleep.

“When you initially came in after the holidays, I noticed other injuries, some were minor, others not, along with slight malnutrition. Everything I left could easily be healed by your magic on its own but when you came back for a checkup, I noticed that nothing had changed, you had a bruised rib that remained bruised and a minor hairline fracture on your forearm that did not heal. Your magic was not giving despite what you took from it.”

His mind whirred with the possibilities of what she was saying.

“And suddenly you fell ill at the match. I checked and rechecked your scans, I healed every ailment you had, and yet you still did not wake up- there was nothing physically wrong with you,” she pressed, searching his eyes.

He hated that he couldn’t respond, couldn’t ask questions, or even beg her to explain because nausea was roiling within him sickly and his hand trembled.

“So I took the next step- I wanted to look at your magical health. It can be hard to conceptualise but imagine it as though it and your physical body are two separate entities that coexist. They can affect one another but the problems need to be solved singularly.”

A new scan appeared above him then- an outline of his body. He saw flashing blue and violet lights in his head, pink and green in his arms and legs highlighting his veins, even charcoal grey hovering over his problematic arm like a grey cloud. 

But the sight of all of those paled in comparison to the brightly burning golden sphere in the centre, right under his heart. It roiled and spun in his chest, flaring outwards periodically, just as the sun would but just as it lurched, it was blocked- the golden tendril retreating immediately before trying again, only this time the thread was thin and weak, barely reaching the part of his body it needed to go.

As the globe of his magic spun, he could spot small black patches marring the surface like craters on the moon.

He looked at her in question. The castle was so quiet it’s as though it too held its breath to hear her answer.

“As a Healer, I do not like hypotheticals or uncertainties. I learn from experience and while your case is one I have limited experience with, it is experience nonetheless. What I see here is consistent with injuries sustained from those who practise dark magic.”

Her words fell like a guillotine. While she might not have meant them as an accusation, it certainly felt like one and he had the desperate urge to flee but he could barely manage breathing on his own. He stared at his own scan and saw his heart beat faster, the blue in his brain firing rapidly, the gold in his core fighting with the black speckles littered on the surface like barnacles.

“You are young, just past 16 years of age and you are more susceptible to magical injuries such as this. I do not presume to know your life and what you do but this path you are on is a dark one Regulus. Dark magic can corrupt souls past saving, it can eat someone from the inside out till there is nothing left but a shell of a human. You can be saved now but whatever it is that you are doing- it needs to end.”

What was there to even say?

He couldn’t respond even if he wanted to but words and thoughts failed him altogether.

This was the consequences of actions he hadn’t even wanted to take.

He knew dark magic corrupted souls but never had he seen the genuine ramifications of it in this manner but he supposed he should have realised it sooner. Bellatrix, avid user of the dark arts, had lost her mind, barely holding onto her sense of self. His father was a drunk and his mother a cold and dark woman with no heart left in her, both of them familiar with the dark arts. 

The Dark Lord, a barely humanoid figure obsessed with the idea of erasing Muggleborns and Half-bloods, of cleansing the world of their filth by brutality and force. He could kill as easily as he could cast a Lumos and surely the price for that was physically manifesting but his energy was dark as well. He wasn’t human anymore. The death eaters were barely normal or sane in any sense of the words either.

And now he was on the path to becoming the exact people he feared and hated most.

Madam Pomfrey looked at his notepad expectantly for his response but he made no move for it.

Instead he turned away, laying down in the mountain of pillows and wishing they could suffocate him.

“I understand this is a lot to take in and I will give you time to think upon it. I have also not contacted anyone about this either, your family included, as I would like to do what’s best for you.  Like I said, I care for you all like you are my own. We’ll talk more in a bit.”

It was only when she left that he let out the breath he had been holding before resuming breathing in harsh pants that left his chest aching. He brought his legs up and curled them as he lay in a foetal position, desperately trying to calm himself. He covered his face with his hands and pulled at his hair, ignoring the stabs of pain that jutted at him with the movement.

He was sure to be thrown into Azkaban come morning. The evidence of his crimes were clear on the scan, forever scarring his soul, and slowly killing him.

Everyone would find out what he had done- James would find out and gods know what he’d do then. He’d never speak to him, Regulus would never get the chance to figure out the confusing emotions roiling within him because James would never forgive him. Sirius would find out and know that he’d turned out exactly as expected. Remus would see past all of his layers to his dark and cruel core and know that he had misplaced his trust.

His family wouldn’t care, they’d leave him in Azkaban to die. Their only regret would be that he hadn’t been more useful in his time that he was free.

He was going to die one way or the other and there was nothing he could do about it.

_______

“Madam Pomfrey says you are responding to treatment well,” Dumbledore said calmly, smoothing down his light blue robes as he sat in the chair that had seen many arses in the past few days.

“I am,” he said, his voice still incredibly hoarse and frail but finally there nonetheless.

The mediwitch had moved incredibly swiftly since her initial discovery of what was actually wrong with him. Just a few hours after speaking to him, she had contacted St. Mungo’s and expedited whatever they had needed to produce for his missing vocal cords and had performed the treatment, thankfully knocking him out beforehand as he didn’t want to be awake for the procedure, magically aided or not.

His throat still ached but he could speak if he needed to, despite Madam Pomfrey’s objections, and his body was ever so slowly recovering, also thanks to her and apparently Dumbledore who had somehow materialised in his room at some point while he was sleeping.

While he was sure the old man tried to convey some sort of comfort in an old grandfather sort of way, Regulus was just incredibly uncomfortable in his presence, especially with his icy blue eyes that seemed to see through him rather than at him.

“Phoenix tears are rather rare in medicinal treatment, often only used in cases of life or death,” he continued, looking reflective. “I admit I was surprised when Madam Pomfrey approached Fawkes and I with the request. I was shocked to know a student under my care was in need of such a solution.”

Regulus waited for it, waited for Dumbledore to say that he had found out what had happened and that Aurors would be here within the hour, maybe they’d even bring a dementor with them on a leash just to ensure he’d cooperate. He was so nervous that he was ready to walk to Azkaban himself if just to end the torturous anticipation.

“It would seem Healer-Patient confidentiality would restrict me from finding out more about what had happened Mr. Black,” Dumbledore said and Regulus’ head snapped back up to him, his ears perking in response.

His eyes were searching on his own and his mouth was tight and Regulus was waiting for him to continue but he never did so that meant that he didn’t know anything. Madam Pomfrey didn’t tell him about the dark magic, about the way his magic was slowly being corrupted, about any of it. He couldn’t stop the balloon of hope that had threatened to burst in his chest at the relief he felt. He owed that woman his life, literally.

Though Dumbledore seemed displeased, probably not used to information being restricted to him in any capacity. Regulus could see the way he bristled despite the front he tried to put up and he couldn’t help but feel the slightest bit smug about it.

He never liked the old man, always found him discomfiting rather than reassuring; egotistical instead of humble; basically the opposite of how everyone else seemed to view him as.

“However, I am not blind to what is happening outside of our walls, how the world seems to grow darker as wizards grow to power, threatening to overturn the very balance our lives depend upon,” he proclaimed oddly. “I have been notified of your injuries many months ago as is protocol in cases involving the dark arts.”

And just as usual, his hope dwindled, the balloon popping and leaving him helplessly empty.

“Ah,” was all Regulus could say. 

“I’ve been told they were inflicted on you by another and I couldn’t help but wonder who. Your parents perhaps?”

Regulus was unsettled.

Dumbledore knew that he was the victim of Unforgivables and yet, didn’t once approach him? Didn’t ask what had happened or if he was okay? Those were an instant life sentence in Azkaban but he had just been sitting on this information for months and was only now letting it out? 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Regulus spoke, automatically wanting to just deflect and make the man leave.

“While I do take these cases very seriously, I saw the…opportunity this presented. Your brother, Sirius, I am aware he had been taken in by the Potters while you remained. Considering your status, you must have made many connections with those who have gone astray.”

Regulus was continuously abused for months and Dumbledore called that an opportunity.

“I apologise but I don’t quite understand.”

“As I understand it, there is still time. I can help you if you might be willing to help the Order by providing us any information you might have about Voldemort so that we may protect the peace before anything else happens.”

Regulus’ mind worked in overdrive as he considered Dumbledore’s words. He wanted him to be what? A spy? In exchange for help. Help that he already knew he needed and yet didn’t provide just so Regulus could come crawling to him now, after the damage had already been done.

He’d been standing by as Regulus ended up at this point and now he truly thought Regulus would give him information on the dark Lord. He may not have liked the half-man but he certainly didn’t feel indebted towards Dumbledore. There was nothing he could do anyways, he wouldn’t leave home, a decision he’d already made for the sake of Sirius.

The old man’s eyes dropped to Regulus’ left arm that was lying at his side and the meaning was painstakingly clear. Did he think Regulus was already marked? Or did he mean to say that he wanted to offer his help before he got marked? Would his offer change? He was left with more questions and suspicions than answers now.

He was offended regardless and he crossed his arms over his chest, keeping them close and away from his prying eyes.

Madam Pomfrey whisked in then and she looked between the two of them, “I’m afraid Mr. Black will need some more rest if he is to leave the Hospital Wing tonight Albus.”

The old man stood, sighing heavily, “I do hope you think more about what we have discussed here tonight. You have an opportunity to help and be helped in return. You know, help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who deserve it.”

Regulus didn’t reply and he left Madam Pomfrey to follow behind on his heels.

He was furious at Dumbledore, the cruel old bastard who pounced on him the minute he woke up and spun a tale borne of suspicion and opportunity. He hated the way he eyed him trying to determine whether he was a friend or a foe and not a student.

His student who was recovering from clear signs of abuse, not a kid who was not yet marked and could soon be his ally.

It was all just bullshite and he wanted to just leave school but not go to Grimmauld, no he wanted to simply disappear where no one would need or want him. Maybe he could jump on a boat and try to figure out where that godsforsaken lighthouse is, if it even existed outside the bounds of his mind at all.

Dumbledore’s words rang in his ears for a long time after, dancing around in his mind in a taunting melody.

The old man was truly stupider than he looked because surely he didn’t think Regulus would take him up on his offer? It seemed enticing at first of course, and would Regulus like to leave home? Sure.

But could he trust a man that acted the way he did? Absolutely not.

While he may have tried to seem generous, Regulus could feel the lies snaking up around him, the way that once Dumbledore had his hands on Regulus, he would squeeze till he was left with nothing but a dry husk of a person.

“Albus, the boy- you can’t- I know- yes, he-” was all he caught Madam Pomfrey saying to Dumbledore before there was the sound of a door shutting and he didn’t even bother to parse out the words, instead downing the sleeping potion on his bedside and shutting his eyes for oblivion was at least slightly more peaceful than this.

_______

“Is he alive?” 

“Don’t say that! Of course he is.”

“He just looks so-”

“He always looks like that.”

“Dead?”

“Get out.”

“Why are you-”

“Wait! Reg?”

He slowly opened his eyes to all of his friends stood around the bed in a circle, looking down at him as though he was in a grave.

Barty bent down low so that their eyes were barely a blink apart, “Reg!” he said cheerfully.

“You smell like butterbeer,” he cringed away from the sickly sweet scent that tended to cling to anything and everything. “Celebrating without me were you?”

“It was in honour of you,” he said before squeezing him in a tight hug.

Barty was already usually cheerful and light but today he seemed even more so and that coupled with the fact that all his friends were there made it seem like they knew at least something about his situation and how unusual it was.

Dorcas just gripped his sheets tightly and said in a low voice, “Never do something like that again, it terrified us.”

“Well it’s not like I planned it, Cas,” Regulus apologised, instead putting her hand in his, their metal rings clinking against each other with the movement. The black liner around her eyes was smudged and her frown was even more pronounced today.

“So what happened then?” Evan asked, his voice dripping with concern, and Regulus felt compelled to say the truth. 

He omitted some parts and glossed over others but all in all, his friends just seemed to think that due to his training with Bellatrix and issues with his mother, his magic had gotten weaker and worked to keep him going and in turn, the overload just put too much stress on his body.

It wasn’t the whole truth, but it was enough to keep them at bay before he could do research.

In between one of his many mini naps throughout the day, he had a dream about him and James in the library and while most of the dream was scandalous, a seed of an idea had formed in his mind and he was determined to follow through once he’d gotten out.

His place in this world at the present was generally locked in and at the same time, the fate of his life and magic was inextricably linked to that and he didn’t much fancy losing either. There were hundreds of generations of wizards before him and it was impossible that he was the only one who was so apparently sensitive to dark magic that it was posing a serious risk to him. Dark wizards could live for centuries without a single mark on them, or atleast no obvious or debilitating ones. 

While they all might meet the same end- old and with a dark soul, he at least wanted to make it that far so he already began outlining a plan in his mind so once he was out, he could immediately get started on that, making atleast some sort of headway before the holiday came.

_______

He must have fallen asleep at some point before dinner because when he woke up again, the moon was up and casting long and odd shadows around the entire hospital wing, a place he was becoming far too familiar with.

He began to viscerally miss his dorm and his classes, a feeling that slowly dissipated as he eyed the mountain of parchment sitting on his side table, brought courtesy of Pandora who had visited all his professors and asked for his coursework so he could keep up.

His eyes were still bleary but his body felt slightly more recovered than before so he managed to at least sit slightly more upwards and reach over to the small table beside him to drink some water and perhaps eat a bit of the food left there under Stasis.

Arm straining, he fumbled the glass and dropped it and he threw his head back and groaned before looking down at the mess he’d made.

However on the way there, he’d had an even bigger fright.

“What the fuck?”

A large black dog was just sitting there a few feet away by the curtain. It stood as still as a statue and Regulus would’ve thought it was one but it made a slight noise, huffing and shifting from a lying position to a seated one, its’ large black eyes boring into Regulus.’

Regulus didn’t move, his arm still oddly suspended in the air as he eyed the dog-wolf-monster creature. It really was quite a big dog, he hadn’t necessarily had much experience around dogs in general but he knew this was a special case.

Perhaps he was hallucinating.

He blinked slowly, once, twice, and it was still there. He even rubbed his eyes and still the dog just watched him.

Then suddenly, it moved, walking over to him and now sitting right by his bedside and Regulus made the bold choice to reach his hand out and very lightly touch the fur at the top of its head. It was soft and thick and it was the same colour as the night sky and he still couldn’t process this.

“How’d you even get in here?” he whispered to it and the dog just opened its mouth, showing off its shiny white teeth as though it were smiling at him and Regulus couldn’t help but smile in return.

“I really am losing my mind aren’t I?” he said aloud, nodding along to the dog who seemed to agree with him.

“Well how am I going to get my water now?” he pondered.

The dog walked away, slipping between the curtains as though it were as small as a cat and Regulus almost thought this little figment of his imagination wouldn’t come back but it did and the dog had somehow retrieved a glass, holding it sideways in its’ mouth with the utmost care, moving incredibly slowly and Regulus was just happy it hadn’t held it the other way and slobbered all over the rim.

“Aren’t you courteous,” he hummed, “Do you have a name?” he mused but there was no collar to be found. “Midnight? Noir? Spot? Shadow?” he guessed but to each the dog shook his head and huffed a breath indicating his displeasure.

“Well it seems we’re at an impasse and since I’m not entirely sure you’re real let’s just leave it here then yeah? I’ll tell you my name though, I’m Regulus,” he smiled, feeling childlike but enjoying it nonetheless.

It was oddly nice having company in the form of this dog who couldn’t understand him but still offered some sort of support regardless.

“Would you like to come up on the bed?” he patted the mattress and the dog lunged and the bed creaked under the weight of the two of them but thankfully held.

The dog was rather beautiful, its teeth pearly white and eyes like onyx. It looked well cared for and loved with its shiny coat and well built body. 

“I bet your owner is missing you right now hmm?” he asked, “But forgive me if I want to keep you around for a bit longer. I have to admit I’ve been a bit lonely, and maybe a bit annoyed but I won’t bother you with that.” He scratched behind his ear and watched the dog kick its leg out, only narrowly missing him.

“I wish I could keep you but I’m not allowed pets. My mum hates them. Well she hates loads of things, including me, but especially animals,” Regulus confessed and the dog whined loudly and Regulus just laughed, “I know right? She’s just mad, in more ways than one.”

“I actually had a brother but like I said she hates animals so I supposed she couldn’t stand him,” he huffed a humourless laugh. “Do you have a brother? If so, then maybe you’d know how I feel without him now. If not, then I can tell you it’s not a good feeling and yet there’s nothing I can do about it.

The dog whined loudly in protest and Regulus acquiesced, “Okay fine, I know there’s probably a million things I could say or do but unfortunately we’re both just far better at fighting than speaking. Perhaps it’s better to leave it this way though,

“At least if he hates me he won’t feel guilty for leaving. I know he doesn’t say it but I can feel it in the way he looks at me sometimes. It’s the same look he gave me before he left. But I can’t jeopardise what he has, you don’t know my mum but she’d snatch both of us right back had we gone so I just have to let it be. He’s done so much for me growing up, it’s the least I could do really.”

Regulus was surprised when his vision went blurry and he awkwardly laughed as he cleared his throat, “Wow you are a really good listener you know?”

The dog continued staring up at him as it laid at the foot of the bed, its obsidian eyes just blinking widely up at him and Regulus was rather happy it couldn’t understand anything he’d said. Sometimes an ear was all one needed.

“I talk too much, I mean that’s why I sound like this. My cousin vanished my vocal cords, I mean can you believe it? That sort of magic is really quite amazing if you really think about it, not a great feeling though,” he said, injecting his voice with humour. It was oddly nice to talk about all of his issues this way, with an odd dark sense of humour that his friends never partook in because they all just felt so bad about it.