Punch
Classes that day were dreadful. Every lesson felt like the same lecture on the importance of starting NEWT preparations immediately if they wanted top marks. The relentless reminders put everyone on edge - Lily was snappier than usual, Marlene sulked through every subject, and Peter couldn’t stop fidgeting.
By the time lunch rolled around, James was already exhausted, barely resisting the urge to drop his head onto the table and sleep through the afternoon. At least Sirius and Remus weren’t letting the pressure get to them, carrying on as if exams were a distant problem for future versions of themselves.
Regulus wasn’t at the Slytherin table, which was a bit unusual, but James figured he was probably just running late. Shrugging it off, he focused on filling his plate, stacking roast potatoes beside a generous serving of shepherd’s pie. The Great Hall buzzed with the usual midday chatter - students complaining about lessons, trading bits of gossip, and making half-hearted plans to start their assignments early.
Across from him, Sirius was flicking grapes at Remus, who barely looked up from his book. Peter, still jittery, poked at his food without really eating, while Marlene muttered something under her breath about Transfiguration homework to Dorcas. James, already weary from the morning, tuned it all out, focusing instead on eating enough to keep himself awake through the afternoon.
Sirius flicked another grape, this time with more force. It bounced off the edge of Remus’s book and landed on James’s plate.
James sighed, stabbing at it with his fork. “You do realize food is meant for eating, right?”
Sirius grinned. “I am eating. I’m just also testing my aim.”
Remus finally looked up, unimpressed. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to hex your fingers together.”
James smirked, turning back to Sirius. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”
Sirius laughed. “True.” he said, flicking another grape at Remus.
James shook his head, taking another bite of his food. “You’re impossible.”
“And yet, you love me,” Sirius said, dramatically placing a hand over his heart.
James rolled his eyes. “Debatable.”
Peter, who had been silent until now, let out a short laugh. “You two bicker like an old married couple.”
Sirius gasped. “How dare you.”
Mary grinned. “He’s not wrong.”
Sirius shrugged, stealing a chip off James’s plate. “Fine, but at least we’re entertaining.”
James snorted and went back to eating, letting the familiar rhythm of chatter and clinking cutlery fill the space around him. He reached for his goblet, but just as he lifted it, movement in his peripheral vision caught his attention.
He looked up and spotted Regulus slipping through the entrance of the Great Hall, shoulders hunched, head bowed, and a deep scowl darkening his face. James frowned. That was even stranger than him not being there at all.
Regulus Black was many things - smart, poised, every bit the picture of pure-blood superiority - but meek wasn’t one of them. Even when he was furious, even when he was outnumbered, even when Sirius baited him into arguments that left both of them spitting mad, Regulus never bowed his head. Having grown up with Walburga Black as a mother, he’d been taught to carry himself with nothing less than absolute pride.
But now...
James wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but he knew one thing: something was wrong.
James frowned slightly, watching as Regulus slipped into his usual seat at the Slytherin table. His posture was stiff, shoulders drawn tight, and his scowl was deep enough to cut stone. He didn’t acknowledge anyone around him, not even Barty, who nudged him with an elbow and said something James couldn’t hear. Regulus didn’t respond - just picked up his fork and started poking at his food without actually eating.
That was odd. Regulus was always composed, always careful to keep up appearances. If he wasn’t outright smirking, he at least had that cool, indifferent mask firmly in place. But now, his whole demeanour was off. James wasn’t sure why, but something about it unsettled him.
He glanced at Sirius, wondering if he’d noticed. But Sirius was too busy swiping another chip from James’s plate, still grinning from their earlier banter. James hesitated before looking back at Regulus, who hadn’t moved much except to rest his chin on his fist, fingers tapping absently against his cheek.
James contemplated going over to see what was wrong but quickly dismissed the idea. It wasn’t as if he could just stroll over there and ask, ‘Hey, Reg, everything alright?’ Not without making a scene. Slytherins were always a little on edge, but this… this was different.
Besides, if Regulus wasn’t going to talk to Barty - who was still chatting animatedly with Evan - then James knew he probably wasn’t going to talk to anyone. Regulus had a particular way of shutting people out when he didn’t want to be bothered, especially when he was upset. It was the same cold, distant demeanour he wore like a shield, but now it seemed even more pronounced. Even Barty, usually Regulus' constant companion, was being shut out.
James rubbed the back of his neck, unsure whether to feel concerned or just let it go. Regulus was always enigmatic, always a mystery, and part of James wanted to know what was really going on behind that icy exterior. But then again, maybe it was none of his business. Regulus was a Black - he’d probably deal with whatever it was on his own.
at that moment, Snape walked over to Regulus; a palpable tension setting in the air. His eyes narrowed as he looked down at Regulus, sitting there with his head still bowed and his eyeliner perfectly applied, just a little smudged from the long morning.
Snape sneered, his voice sharp and loud enough for everyone to hear. "you know, i though Avery was kidding when he said you wore makeup today. Clearly i was wrong. You trying to look... girly?" He scoffed, his gaze flicking over Regulus’ appearance with barely veiled contempt. "You know, it's bad enough that you’re wasting your potential, do you really need to disgrace yourself further? Honestly, you should be ashamed."
There were a few gasps around the table, but Regulus didn’t respond. He just kept his eyes on his plate, the faintest flush creeping into his cheeks as Snape’s voice rang out through the hall.
Barty, who had been silently watching from beside Regulus, stood up abruptly. "Oi, Sir Grime!" he snapped, stepping forward and shoving Snape back. "Who the hell do you think you are, huh? The fuck gives you the right to judge anyone?!"
Snape’s sneer grew wider, dismissive and cold. "Oh, look - Crouch here to defend the poor little princess. How touching."
Barty went to shove him again but Mulciber, who had been flanking Snape, shoved him harshly in the chest, sending him stumbling back a few steps.
The hall had fallen into an uncomfortable silence, eyes turning toward the scene unfolding. Whispers buzzed through the air as the tension grew thicker. James could feel the anger bubbling up in his chest as he exchanged a glance with Sirius, who was already standing and storming toward Snape.
Sirius’ voice was a low growl, barely containing his fury. "What the fuck did you just say about my brother?" His eyes locked onto Snape’s with a dangerous intensity, the challenge hanging in the air.
James and Remus moved quickly to follow, standing just behind Sirius as he closed in on Snape. McGonagall had already risen from the staff table, looking as if she was about to intervene, but Sirius was quicker.
Snape tilted his head, a mocking glint in his eyes. "Well, Black," he sneered, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "I imagine it must be hard for you to keep track of what gender your little 'girly' brother is."
The words hit like a slap, and Sirius' body stiffened. His hand tightened into a fist, eyes locked on Snape, a dangerous look flashing across his face. But before Sirius could react, James, quick as ever, was already there.
With a sickening crack, James' fist collided with Snape’s jaw, the force so sudden and brutal that it sent Snape to the ground. A shocked silence fell over the hall as Snape staggered back, his hand instinctively reaching up to cradle his now-throbbing jaw.
Regulus, who had been silent and still the entire time, looked up now, his face pale but his eyes - just for a moment - flashing with something like gratitude. The scene had caught everyone’s attention now, and even McGonagall was forced to pause mid-step, her stern gaze flicking from Snape to James.
"Enough!" McGonagall’s voice rang out across the hall, cutting through the tension like a knife. Her stern tone silenced the room instantly, all eyes on her as she made her way toward the group. The students in the hall leaned forward, straining to see the confrontation unfold. McGonagall's presence was commanding, and despite the chaos, her authority remained unquestioned.
“Mr. Potter! Detention!” Her voice was unyielding, sharp as a whip crack, and every word seemed to carry the weight of her expectations.
James started to protest, his hands still clenched at his sides, his chest heaving with the remnants of his anger. "But, Professor-" he began, his voice strained.
“But nothing!” McGonagall snapped, cutting him off before he could finish. She stopped in front of James, glaring at him with the full force of her disapproval. The students around them could feel the tension in the air, as if a storm was about to break. Her gaze shifted between James and Snape, but her focus remained firmly on James. "You will serve detention for your actions, Mr. Potter. And I expect better from you. All of you."
James opened his mouth again, but before he could utter another word, Remus stepped in, his voice low but firm. "It wasn’t his fault, Professor. Snape provoked him."
McGonagall gave him a sharp look, but Remus didn't back down. "Professor, please," he added quietly, "this was something else entirely. It’s not just about what happened now - it’s about something deeper."
The tension in the room remained thick, though McGonagall’s gaze softened just slightly. She looked at Regulus, who was still sitting quietly at the table, looking uncomfortable and somewhat embarrassed by the whole scene. Her gaze flicked back to Snape, who had the faintest, self-satisfied smirk on his face.
"Mr. Snape," McGonagall said, her voice still steady but with a note of reproach, "I expect better from you as well. This is a school, not a battleground for your petty grievances."
There was a pause, and for a moment, the entire hall seemed to hold its breath. Then McGonagall’s stern tone cut through the air again. "You will all report to me after dinner tonight. All of you."
With that, she turned on her heel, her robes swishing behind her as she left, clearly still fuming. The room was still eerily quiet for a moment, and then, as if a dam had broken, murmurs filled the hall.
Regulus stood up suddenly and grabbed James's wrist with surprising strength, pulling him out of the Great Hall before James could protest. His grip was firm, almost desperate, and James let himself be led, confused and still processing the wild series of events. Regulus dragged him into an empty classroom, the door slamming shut behind them with a soft thud.
"Why did you do that?" Regulus demanded, his voice raw, his face twisted in frustration. His eyes, usually so guarded, were wide, an unsettling mixture of anger and something more vulnerable flickering behind them. He tugged at James’s wrist again, pulling him closer as if trying to keep the distance between them from growing.
James blinked, genuinely perplexed. "What, stand up for you?" he echoed, as if the very idea was as natural as breathing. He shrugged slightly, a frown pulling at his brow. "Why wouldn’t I?"
Regulus let out a sharp, frustrated breath, his grip loosening slightly but still firm. "Because it wasn’t your place, James!" He spat the words, his voice sharp and tight with emotion. "I was handling it."
James shook his head, his brows knitting together in confusion. He stepped back slightly, still trying to process what was happening. "You were handling it?" he repeated, his voice rising in disbelief. "You were letting him talk shit about you, letting him say whatever he wanted without saying a word back. That’s not handling it, Reg."
There was a moment of silence, and for a fleeting second, Regulus’s face seemed to falter, his defences lowering just enough for James to see a flicker of doubt in his eyes. His lips tightened into a thin line, and he swallowed hard, clearly trying to control his emotions.
"That’s not how it works," Regulus said finally, though his voice was quieter now, tinged with exhaustion. "I don’t need you or anyone else coming to my rescue every time Snape or anyone else decides to make a comment. I can deal with it myself."
James shook his head again, this time with more intensity. "You don’t have to handle it alone," he said, his voice softening but still firm. "It’s not about rescuing you, Regulus. It’s about not letting people walk all over you. You deserve better than that."
Regulus’s eyes flashed with something like hurt before he quickly masked it, his gaze hardening. "I’m fine," he muttered, a little too quickly, turning away as if the conversation was over.
James felt a surge of frustration - he could feel the walls Regulus was building, and it only made him want to push harder, but he knew better. Regulus needed time, but James couldn’t let it go without saying one last thing.
"You know," James said quietly, his voice almost a whisper, "if you ever need someone to have your back, you don’t have to handle it on your own. I’ll always stand with you, whether you want me to or not."
Regulus didn’t respond right away, but after a long, tense moment, he finally met James’s eyes, his expression unreadable. For just a moment, James thought he might say something - something real - but then, just as quickly, Regulus dropped his gaze, his face hardening once more.
"I don’t need your pity, Potter," he said, his voice colder now, the familiar mask slipping back into place.
James sighed, feeling a pang of frustration, but he didn’t push it. He didn’t know how to fix this. Regulus was a locked door, and no matter how hard James tried to break it down, Regulus wouldn’t let him in.
"Alright," James said quietly, giving Regulus one last look before turning to leave. He paused in the doorway, glancing back once more. "Just remember, you’re not alone."
And with that, he stepped out into the hallway, the door clicking shut softly behind him.
The rest of the day passed in a tense, simmering silence. James could tell that Sirius was still absolutely livid - his shoulders tight, his jaw set, and his usual easy smirk nowhere to be found. He barely spoke, and when he did, it was clipped and biting. Every time Snape passed by, Sirius’s grip on his wand tightened like he was moments away from hexing him into next week. James wasn’t much happier himself. The fact that they were all being dragged to McGonagall’s office for this - when it was clearly Snape’s fault - was downright infuriating. But, of course, Snape would find a way to slither out of it. He always did, the slimy git.
When the time came, James, Sirius, and Remus made their way toward McGonagall’s office together, their footsteps heavy against the stone floor. Barty was already waiting outside the door, pacing back and forth like a restless predator, while Mulciber leaned against the wall, arms crossed, looking irritated but not particularly concerned. Snape stood a little apart from them, his lip curled in contempt, arms folded tightly over his chest. His jaw was bruising already, an angry purple swelling along the side where James’s fist had connected, and James felt a flicker of satisfaction at the sight.
Regulus arrived last, his expression unreadable as always. He moved past them without a word, slipping inside as soon as the door opened, taking a seat in one of McGonagall’s cushiony armchairs like he wasn’t involved at all. He didn't fidget, didn’t make eye contact with anyone - just sat there, silent and unmoving, his posture perfect, his face carefully blank.
McGonagall surveyed them all from behind her desk, her sharp eyes taking in every detail - the bruises, the stiff postures, the way Sirius was still practically vibrating with barely restrained rage.
"Alright," she said finally, folding her hands in front of her. "I want to hear exactly what happened. Mr. Snape, since you were on the receiving end of Mr. Potter’s fist, let’s start with you."
Snape's mouth twisted into a sneer, his eyes flicking briefly to James before settling on McGonagall. "It was completely unprovoked," he said smoothly. "I was merely having a conversation with Regulus, and Potter and Black decided to involve themselves where they weren’t needed-"
"Oh, piss off, Snape," Barty snapped. "A conversation? You were mocking him in front of the entire hall!"
McGonagall’s gaze sharpened, and she turned to Barty with a pointed look. "Language, Mr. Crouch."
Barty scowled but didn’t back down. "Fine. He was harassing Regulus, making comments about the eyeliner he was wearing, calling him girly and worse," he said, his voice low and sharp. "I stepped in, Mulciber shoved me, and then James punched Snape. That’s what happened."
McGonagall’s expression didn’t change, but her lips pressed together in a thin line as she turned her gaze to Mulciber. "Mr. Mulciber, did you put your hands on Mr. Crouch?"
Mulciber shrugged. "He got in my face first."
"That wasn’t my question."
Mulciber’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond.
McGonagall let out a slow breath through her nose before turning to Sirius. "And you, Mr. Black?"
Sirius, who had barely taken his eyes off Snape the entire time, clenched his fists at his sides. "Everything Barty said is true," he said, his voice clipped. "Snape went after my brother, and I wasn’t about to just sit there and let it happen."
McGonagall’s gaze flicked to Regulus, who was still sitting quietly in his chair, staring at some fixed point in the distance. He hadn’t spoken a single word since stepping into the room. She studied him for a moment, then sighed and leaned back in her chair.
"This is an absolute mess," she muttered, rubbing her temples. "I’ll need to speak with the headmaster about this. But in the meantime-" She fixed each of them with a hard look. "There will be consequences."
McGonagall let out a slow breath, adjusting her glasses as she considered the group in front of her. Finally, she spoke, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.
“Two weeks of detention for you, Mr. Snape,” she said, her eyes sharp as they met his. “One week each for Mr. Potter and Mr. Mulciber.” She barely paused before continuing. “Mr. Crouch, ten points from Slytherin for your language. Mr. Potter, twenty from Gryffindor. Mr. Snape, twenty from Slytherin.”
James bit back a scowl. He had been defending Regulus, and Snape had started it. But arguing would only make things worse. He caught Sirius’s eye for a moment, seeing the barely restrained fury burning behind them. This wasn’t over. Not for Sirius. Not for any of them.
McGonagall let out another sigh and waved a hand toward the door. “You are dismissed. I strongly suggest you all take the rest of the evening to reflect on your actions.”
Sirius was the first to leave, practically storming out of the office. Remus followed immediately; his voice low as he tried to calm Sirius down before he did something reckless. Barty left too, but instead of following Snape and Mulciber, he took a different route back to the Slytherin common room. James watched them go, but his attention was drawn back to Regulus, still sitting stiffly in the armchair like he was trying to disappear into it.
James frowned slightly, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He hadn’t even noticed McGonagall slipping out of the office until he heard the door click quietly shut, leaving just the two of them in the heavy silence.
Regulus still wouldn’t look at him.
James knew - of course he knew - that this wasn’t the first time someone had called Regulus girly. Sirius had mentioned it before, in those rare moments he spoke about his family. Their mother, Walburga, had always told Regulus he was too small and too delicate for a boy, said it in a way that made it clear she saw it as a flaw. Narcissa’s fiancé, Lucius, had made snide remarks more than once, questioning whether Regulus was even sure he was a boy at all.
It had never sat right with James. It really didn’t sit right now.
He exhaled slowly and stepped a little closer. “Reg-”
“Don’t,” Regulus cut him off quietly, still not looking up. His voice was even, controlled, but James could see the way his hands were curled into the fabric of his robes, knuckles white.
James hesitated, unsure if pushing would help or make things worse.
So instead, he just sat down in the chair beside Regulus and said nothing at all.
Regulus huffed, finally turning his head to look at James with narrowed eyes. "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice edged with exasperation but lacking any real bite.
James shrugged, leaning back in his chair like they were just two mates lounging around instead of sitting in McGonagall’s office after a fight. "Keeping you company."
Regulus stared at him for a moment, as if trying to figure out if James was serious or just being his usual annoying self. Eventually, he sighed and let his head fall back against the chair, eyes drifting toward the ceiling. “You’re an idiot.”
James grinned. “Yeah, but I’m a charming idiot.”
Regulus snorted, shaking his head, but didn’t argue. They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need to be filled with words. James didn’t mind; sometimes, it was enough to just be.
About ten minutes later, James stretched and looked over at Regulus. “Wanna go to the Astronomy Tower?”
Regulus hesitated for only a second before nodding. “Yeah, alright.”
The night air was crisp by the time they made it to the tower. The sky stretched endlessly above them; stars scattered across it like spilled ink. Without a word, they walked to the edge and, just like the night before, sat down with their legs dangling over the side.
Regulus pulled a crumpled pack of cigarettes from his pocket, tapping the bottom until one slid out. He placed it between his lips with practiced ease, then snapped his fingers. The tip of the cigarette lit, catching instantly. The glow illuminated the sharp angles of his face for a brief moment before fading.
James watched as Regulus took a slow drag, his fingers resting lightly against the cigarette as he inhaled. He held the smoke in his lungs for a second, eyes half-lidded, before exhaling in a steady stream. The smoke curled around him, caught in the slight breeze before dissipating into the night air. His expression remained unreadable; gaze fixed on the dark expanse ahead.
“You okay?” James asked carefully, his voice quieter than usual, softened by the weight of the night around them.
Regulus didn’t answer right away. His brow furrowed slightly, the crease between his eyebrows deepening. James had to fight the sudden, absurd urge to reach out and smooth it away with his thumb. Instead, he kept his hands firmly planted on the stone ledge beneath them, fingers curling slightly against the cold surface.
The silence stretched between them, only broken by the occasional rustling of the wind and the distant hoot of an owl. James was about to assume Regulus wasn’t going to answer at all when, finally-
“I’m fine,” Regulus muttered, exhaling another slow stream of smoke. His voice was even, but there was something a little too measured about it, like he was forcing it to be. “Snape’s an idiot.”
James huffed out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Well, yeah. That much is obvious.”
Regulus smirked slightly, his eyes flicking over to James with a hint of curiosity. “Why did you punch him for me? Sirius was about to anyway, so why did you?”
The question hit James harder than he expected. For a moment, he just stared at Regulus, unsure how to put it into words. He had seen the way Sirius had tensed up, ready to throw a punch, but James knew he didn’t need to step in. Sirius would’ve handled Snape just fine. But what made him act was the look on Regulus’s face—the tightness in his jaw, the subtle tremble in his hands as he tried to hide his discomfort. There had been something in the way his gaze flickered around, trying so hard to mask whatever vulnerability he felt, but James could see it—the faint sheen in his eyes, the way he bit down on his cheek to keep his face neutral.
“I defend the people I care about,” James said slowly, his voice steady despite the unexpected tightness in his chest. “I care about you, so I defended you.” He shrugged as if it was no big deal, but the sincerity in his words was unmistakable.
For a split second, Regulus didn’t respond. His breath hitched sharply, a soft sound that made James glance over at him. Regulus looked away quickly, his cigarette still smouldering between his fingers, though it seemed as if he had forgotten about it altogether. The silence between them stretched again, but this time it felt different—less uncomfortable, more fragile, like something had shifted without either of them quite knowing how.
Regulus looked back at James, and for the first time, there was no mask—just the raw vulnerability in his eyes. The soft, almost imperceptible gleam of tears that lingered at the edge of his gaze caught James off guard. The rest of his face was still hard, as if the effort to remain composed was a constant battle, but the emotion was there, flickering in his eyes. “Why?” he asked, his voice quiet and unsteady, betraying him in a way that made James’s chest tighten.
The sound of his voice cracking almost made James’s breath catch. He wasn’t sure what had made Regulus’s emotions crack open like this—maybe it was everything from today, or maybe it was something deeper, something James wasn’t fully seeing. But either way, the vulnerability in Regulus’s gaze disarmed him.
James was stunned, his mind scrambling for a response that felt right. Of all the reactions he might’ve expected after what he said, this was the last one. He wasn’t prepared for Regulus to actually ask—to look at him with those raw, wide eyes, filled with a mix of disbelief and something he couldn’t quite name. He hadn’t even been trying to make Regulus feel better, hadn’t been thinking about how much it might mean to him. But now, hearing that small, fractured question, James realized just how much it mattered to him.
“Because...” James hesitated, unsure how to explain something that didn’t seem to need explaining. “Well, I don’t know, really. I just do.”
It wasn’t a perfect answer, but it was the truth, as simple as that. He cared, and that was all that mattered.
Regulus didn’t answer immediately. He only took another drag from his cigarette, his hands slightly unsteady, before slowly exhaling a puff of smoke into the cool air. The silence that followed was heavy, weighted with all the things neither of them were saying.
James couldn’t stop his gaze from lingering on Regulus, studying him more intently than before. There was something in the way he was looking at him now—something that shifted between them, something unspoken but understood. Regulus may not have said anything else, but the subtle change in his posture—the way his shoulders seemed to ease just a little, the smallest softening in his expression—told James all he needed to know.
James turned his gaze back to the vast, moonlit grounds of Hogwarts as Regulus continued to smoke in silence. The quiet stretched between them, not awkward but weighted, as though something fragile and unspoken hovered in the space they shared. The distant hoot of an owl punctuated the night, and below them, the castle flickered with the occasional glow of torchlight, but up here, it was just the two of them, detached from the rest of the world.
Regulus eventually flicked the cigarette butt over the edge of the tower, watching as the ember faded into the darkness below. James could hear him exhale softly, as if releasing something he had been holding onto. Neither of them spoke for several long minutes, the silence filled only by the faint rustling of wind against stone.
Then, barely more than a breath, Regulus whispered, “I care for you too.”
James’s heart skipped a beat. It was sudden, an involuntary reaction he didn’t quite understand. The words settled over him like a weight, not heavy, but grounding, something real and undeniable. He swallowed, feeling an odd, unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest—something dangerously close to hope, something he wasn’t sure what to do with.
He wanted to say something in response, to acknowledge what had just been said, but he couldn’t quite find the words. Instead, he just nodded, as if to himself, and let the silence settle again, though this time, it felt different. Warmer.
Regulus didn’t say anything else, and James didn’t push.
When James eventually got back to the dorms, Sirius was still visibly fuming. He wasn’t pacing or throwing things, which was a small relief, but the tension in his shoulders and the sharpness of his movements made it clear that he was barely keeping himself in check. He sat on the windowsill, one leg pulled up, the other hanging loosely over the edge, a cigarette burning between his fingers. The window was cracked open to let the smoke out—more for Peter and James’ sake than his own, since they hated when the room got hazy with it.
The moment Sirius heard James enter, his head snapped up. His stormy grey eyes locked onto him, scanning him as if trying to determine whether he had done anything reckless—or worse, nothing at all. Without breaking eye contact, Sirius flicked the half-burnt cigarette out the window, watching as the ember faded into the night. Then, with a sharp breath, he pushed himself to his feet.
“We have to do something about Snivellus,” he said heatedly, crossing the room in a few quick strides. His hands landed firmly on James’s shoulders, gripping tighter than necessary. “We can’t let that dickhead get away with saying shit about Reggie.”
His voice was low, edged with barely restrained fury. James could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, the protective rage that always flared up when it came to Regulus. It wasn’t just about what had happened in the Great Hall—this was years of resentment, years of watching people tear his little brother down. And now, with things already strained between them, Sirius was barely holding himself together.
"Agreed," James said instantly, without hesitation. There wasn’t even a second of doubt in his mind. "So, what’s the plan?"
Sirius’s lips curled into a sharp, dangerous grin, but before he could say anything, Remus let out a long-suffering sigh from his bed.
"James, don’t encourage him, please," Remus said, rubbing his temples as if he already felt the impending headache. "You know it’ll only end in all of us getting more detention."
Sirius whirled on him, throwing his hands in the air. "Did you not hear what Lord Slimy said about Reggie? He said he was girly! He asked me if I was even sure he was a boy! Moons, you can’t seriously expect me to just sit back and do nothing!"
There was a sharp edge to his voice, his fury only growing now that he was saying it out loud. The memory of Snape’s sneer, the way he had spat those words like they were a joke, made Sirius’s blood boil all over again. He clenched his fists, his whole body vibrating with barely contained rage.
Remus met his glare with a tired but firm expression. "I heard him, Padfoot," he said, voice calm but unwavering. "And I’m not saying he doesn’t deserve to have his teeth knocked out. But getting yourselves another week of detention isn’t going to make this better. You know that."
Sirius let out a harsh breath and turned back to James. "So? What are we doing?"
After hours of tossing around ideas, they still hadn’t landed on anything that satisfied both Sirius and Remus. Every plan Sirius liked was too reckless in Remus’s eyes, and everything Remus approved of wasn’t nearly satisfying enough for Sirius. It was a frustrating stalemate, and by eleven o’clock, the dorm was thick with tension.
Sirius and Remus sat on opposite sides of the room, glaring at each other like stubborn chess opponents unwilling to concede. The air between them felt almost electric, neither willing to budge an inch.
Finally, with an irritated huff, Remus stood up and stalked over to his bed, yanking the four-poster curtains shut behind him with a sharp flick of his wrist. The finality of it was clear—he was done arguing.
Sirius rolled his eyes, flopping backward onto James’s bed with a dramatic sigh. "Honestly, it’s like he doesn’t even care about what Snivellus said!" he muttered darkly, arms crossed over his chest.
James, who had been leaning against the bedpost, gave him a pointed look. "You know he cares, Sirius. He just doesn’t want you getting into more trouble."
Sirius scoffed, shaking his head. "I don’t care about detention, and he knows it! I don’t see why he’s suddenly got a fucking stick up his arse!" His voice was sharp, frustration laced in every word.
James sighed, rubbing his temple. "Pads, just give him a break, okay? It's less than a week till the full moon. You know how he gets before then. Maybe we should wait until after that to plan any revenge, yeah?"
Sirius exhaled sharply through his nose but didn’t argue. He wasn’t stupid—he knew the full moon took a toll on Remus, that his patience ran thinner the closer it got. And as much as he wanted to make Snape pay now, James was right. It could wait.
"Fine," he muttered begrudgingly, sitting up. "But after the full moon, we're making him pay for what he said. No arguments."
James smirked slightly, shaking his head. "Wouldn’t dream of it."
At that moment, the door creaked open, and Peter walked in, looking far too pleased with himself. His usually hunched posture was a little straighter, and there was a distinct bounce in his step as he made his way into the room. Sirius, still perched on James’s bed, raised a curious eyebrow, while James leaned back slightly, exchanging a knowing look with him.
Peter didn’t say anything, just smiled—an uncharacteristically bright, almost giddy smile—as he practically skipped over to his bed, plopping down with a content sigh.
James smirked. "How’s Emmeline?" he asked casually, watching as Peter immediately stiffened, his already pale grey complexion turning a shade darker—just enough that James figured he was probably blushing.
Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Oh, Wormy, you absolute sap."
Peter huffed, grabbing a pillow and chucking it weakly at Sirius, who caught it effortlessly. "Shut up," he muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.
James chuckled, shaking his head. "Didn’t deny it, though."
Peter just grumbled, turning onto his side, but the small smile still lingered on his face.