Wounds and Warmth
James
James finds Remus in the library, hunched over a thick Arithmancy book and looking about three seconds away from launching it into orbit.
He flops into the chair across from him with a dramatic sigh.
Remus doesn’t even look up. “Did you walk into another lamp post?”
“I didn’t walk into it,” James mutters. “I tripped near it.”
Remus turns a page. “Because of Regulus?”
James groans and drops his head onto the table with a solid thunk.
“Moony,” he mumbles into the wood, “I think I’ve broken him.”
That makes Remus glance up. “What, like emotionally?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” James lifts his head, hair sticking up in weird directions. “He was acting so weird earlier.”
“Weird how?”
“I said hi and he just stood there like I’d insulted his ancestors. Then he told me he’s straight.”
Remus blinks.
James throws his arms out. “I didn’t ask!”
Remus snorts. “Oh no. He’s spiraling.”
James nods miserably. “And I touched his arm. Just like a normal, friendly, supportive touch. And then he looked at me like I’d committed a war crime.”
Remus hums thoughtfully, tapping his quill against the page. “So… you like him.”
James glares. “Is this news to you?”
“No,” Remus says, far too smug. “I just like hearing you admit it.”
James slumps back in his chair, groaning again. “I was doing so well, Moony. I wore cologne. I bought him toads. I didn’t even trip over anything until after the date.”
Remus raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so it was a date?”
James freezes. “I mean—not officially—but maybe kind of? I don’t know. I thought it was. It felt like one. Sort of. I dressed up. He teased me.”
“And you were a disaster?”
James scowls. “An endearing disaster.”
Remus pats his arm. “Always.”
James stares up at the ceiling. “Do you think he hates me?”
Remus gives him a look. “No. He’s just emotionally repressed and deeply suspicious of his own feelings. Welcome to your type.”
James groans again and covers his face. “Why can’t I ever like someone easy?”
Remus leans in, lowering his voice. “Because you’re a chaos gremlin with a heart of gold and unresolved hero issues. You were built to fall for someone who makes you work for it.”
James peeks at him through his fingers. “So what do I do?”
Remus smirks. “Flirt. Stay calm. Let him freak out a little. It’ll pass.”
James frowns. “How do you know?”
“I’m a werewolf,” Remus says, closing his book. “We can smell pining.”
---
James is crushing hard on Regulus.
Like, the kind of crush. The stupid, brain-melting, “I saw him blink and now I’m in love” kind. The “I remember the exact tone of voice he used when he said ‘You’re an idiot, Potter’” kind. He likes the sharp edges, the secret softness, the way Regulus pretends to be above everything but lights up when you talk about obscure jazz records.
But the thing is—he thought Regulus might like him back.
Not in a huge, dramatic, write-it-in-the-stars kind of way. But in the subtle ways. The letting-him-get-close way. The teasing way. The “not hexing him when he says something dumb” way. And the Hogsmeade trip? That felt like something.
Regulus had laughed. Had walked next to him like it was normal. Had looked so soft in the winter light that James had to keep biting his tongue just to stop from saying something ridiculous like you look like a painting right now.
But now—Regulus is acting strange.
Weirder than usual.
More stiff. More clipped. More like… he’s back to being careful.
James starts to worry.
Because maybe he was too obvious. Maybe the toads were too much. Or the way he looked at him. Or the way he had touched his arm and hoped—just for a second—that Regulus might touch him back.
And now Regulus is pulling away.
James tells himself that maybe it’s nothing. Maybe Regulus is just being his usual prickly self. But there’s this little voice in his head that whispers:
What if you made him uncomfortable? What if you ruined it by liking him too much?
Because James is used to being liked. He’s used to easy affection. Regulus isn’t like that. Regulus is complicated and closed-off and fascinating—but James knows that means he could spook him without even realizing it.
And honestly? That scares him.
Because for once, he really wants to get this right.
So he tells himself to pull back. To be patient. To let Regulus come to him—if he wants to. But the ache is still there, low and stubborn.
James Potter, for all his loudness and confidence, is quietly terrified that he’s already messed it up.
---
James sits on the edge of the couch, drumming his fingers idly on the armrest as he watches the others go about their usual banter. It’s a quiet afternoon in the Gryffindor common room, and he’s pretending to study, though he can’t seem to focus. His mind keeps drifting back to Regulus.
Ever since their little trip to Hogsmeade, things feel... different. They spent the day together—no pressure, no expectations. But now, James can’t shake the feeling that something has changed. Regulus has been distant, and it’s not just in the obvious ways. It’s in the little things: the way his eyes linger a moment too long when James speaks, the way he doesn’t tease him like he used to. It’s as if Regulus is holding something back.
James tries to push it to the back of his mind. He really does. But it’s hard, especially when he keeps catching little glimpses of Regulus looking at him in ways he’s not used to. It makes his chest tighten in ways he doesn’t know how to handle. Is he imagining things?
He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. Stop overthinking, he thinks, but it doesn’t help. He keeps coming back to one question: Does Regulus like him? Or has he just been tolerating him this whole time?
James shakes his head, trying to focus, but he can’t. The thoughts won’t stop.
His train of thought derails when Regulus walks in, his usual air of cool detachment plastered on his face. But as James looks at him, there’s something different—something that makes his stomach twist in a way he can’t explain. Regulus gives him a brief, almost dismissive glance before sitting down, clearly occupied with his thoughts.
James hesitates, then decides to try and break the ice. Maybe he’s overthinking everything. Maybe Regulus is just tired. After all, he’s been through a lot recently. He could be imagining the distance.
“Hey,” James says, trying to keep his voice light. “You alright, Reg?”
Regulus looks up at him, blinking once. There’s a brief pause before he speaks. “Fine.”
James raises an eyebrow, feeling the slight coldness in Regulus’s tone. But he presses on, refusing to let it get to him. “You sure? You’ve been acting a little off lately.”
Regulus’s lips curl into a half-smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just tired, Potter. Don’t read into it.”
James feels a pang in his chest. That isn’t the response he’s hoping for. He doesn’t know what he expected, but it certainly wasn’t that. Don’t read into it, he thinks bitterly.
His mind starts to race again, like an out-of-control train. Did Regulus really think he was that annoying? Did he not care at all?
Trying to lighten the mood, James lets out a laugh, though it feels forced. “Yeah, well, if you’re tired of me, you could’ve just said so.”
Regulus looked at him again, his gaze sharp but not unkind. “I’m not tired of you, Potter. I just don’t always need you poking around in my business.”
James’s stomach sinks. He knows Regulus wasn’t trying to be cruel, but the words sting more than they should.
“I’m just trying to be a good friend,” James says with a shrug, though his voice wavers slightly.
Regulus nods, but there’s something in his expression that makes James feel like he’s the last person Regulus wants to talk to. The conversation fizzles out awkwardly after that, and Regulus returns to his book, leaving James to sit there, gnawing on his lower lip. It’s like the entire room has shifted, and James has no idea why.
The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur, but James can’t stop thinking about that moment. The coldness in Regulus’s voice. The way he shut him down so easily. Did James really make Regulus that uncomfortable? He replays the conversation in his head over and over, wondering what he had said wrong, what he had done to make Regulus pull away.
By the time evening rolls around, James can’t concentrate on anything. His thoughts are all tangled up in knots. He’s about to grab a book to distract himself when Sirius, noticing his mood, saunters over with his usual grin. “Oi, Prongs, you alright? You’ve been looking off all day.”
James doesn’t respond right away. His mind is still on Regulus, but he’s starting to feel the weight of the silence that’s fallen between them. He doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s clear to him now: he isn’t okay. He isn’t fine at all.
“I’m fine,” James mutters, not sounding convincing in the slightest.
Remus, who’s been listening from across the room, catches the tone in his voice. He raises an eyebrow. “James, don’t lie. You’ve barely touched your food, and you’re not your usual self. What’s going on?”
James shrugs half-heartedly, suddenly feeling the weight of everything. He doesn’t want to tell them about the awkwardness with Regulus, but it’s eating away at him. “I don’t know,” he mutters. “I just... I think I messed something up with Regulus. I don’t know what I did, but he’s been acting weird, and now I feel like I’ve pushed him too far.”
The Marauders exchange concerned glances. Sirius leans forward, his voice more serious than usual. “Prongs, you didn’t do anything wrong. Regulus can be a bit... difficult sometimes. But if something’s bothering him, you’ll sort it out. You always do.”
But James isn’t convinced. The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that it does matter. It matters more than he’s letting on. It has to mean something, right?
Before anyone can say anything else, a group hug happens. It’s sudden, like it always is with those three. Remus pulls him into a tight embrace, followed by Sirius wrapping both of them up in his usual bear hug. Peter is squished in the middle. It’s clumsy but warm, and for a moment, James lets himself relax into the comfort of his friends.
“You’ve got us, Prongs,” Sirius says, his voice muffled by the hug. “Don’t stress about it. You’re not in this alone.”
James lets out a shaky laugh, finally feeling like he can breathe again. “Thanks, guys,” he mutters, his voice thick with emotion.
And for the first time all day, the knot in his chest starts to loosen. But it doesn’t completely go away. He still can’t shake the feeling that he’s done something wrong with Regulus. The words Regulus has said, the way he’s looked at him, won’t leave his mind.
---
James walks into the hallway the next morning, mind buzzing, but his thoughts immediately freeze when he spots Regulus standing by the stairs, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot. There’s something off about him today. His usual cool exterior is cracked, and the way he’s staring at the floor, avoiding James’s gaze, makes James feel a little uneasy.
Regulus is waiting for him, and it’s clear that he’s been waiting for a while, but for what, James doesn’t know. Not until he steps closer and catches Regulus taking a deep, shaky breath.
"James..." Regulus’s voice is hesitant, unsure. He looks up then, his eyes flickering nervously over James’s face before quickly dropping again. James’s heart gives a strange little jolt. He loves it when Regulus uses his first name. “I... uh, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. For yesterday.”
James blinks, thrown off. He thought he was the one who should’ve apologized—after all, it was his mind that was racing, his own stupid overthinking that probably made things awkward. He opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Regulus rushes on, his words stumbling over each other.
“I—I didn’t mean what I said. Not the way it came out.” He pauses, visibly uncomfortable, like he’s fighting to say the right thing. “I... I didn’t mean to make you feel... y’know, bad. Or like... you’d done something wrong. I was just... not in a good place, and I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry.”
Regulus’s words hang in the air, heavy with something that feels like genuine regret. He rubs the back of his neck, his usual aloofness nowhere to be found. Instead, he’s fidgeting, eyes darting, clearly uneasy. He’s still standing so rigidly, like he’s bracing himself for something.
James feels the weight of the apology, but it’s a strange mix of relief and confusion. Part of him wants to believe Regulus, but another part of him still feels hurt. He can’t help it. The way Regulus dismissed him, so casually—he hasn’t completely gotten over it yet.
“Regulus…” James starts, but his voice cracks slightly. He clears his throat, trying again. “I get that you’re sorry, but... you hurt me, yeah? You kinda made me feel like I’d messed something up, and it’s not really that easy to just... let go of.” He shrugs, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I guess I just... I don’t know. I thought we were good, and then it felt like you didn’t want to be around me anymore.”
Regulus looks like James slapped him. His face softens with genuine surprise and guilt. His mouth opens and closes a few times, like he’s looking for the right words to fix it. He’s trying to explain himself, but his voice falters.
“I didn’t want to... I mean, I didn’t mean to make you feel like that,” Regulus says, his voice quieter now. “I—I just... I get weird sometimes, okay? And it’s not... it’s not your fault.” His eyes flick up, locking with James’s, and for the first time, James sees something in them that he hadn’t noticed before: sincerity. “I was being an idiot. And I’m sorry. Really.”
James lets out a long breath, trying to process everything. He wants to forgive Regulus, he does, but there’s still that lingering sting in his chest. Still, Regulus looks like he’s being honest, like he’s finally breaking down the walls he usually hides behind. But there’s something else James needs to hear—something that would finally make him feel like everything is going to be okay.
“Well, I guess that’s all I needed to hear,” James says, his voice softer. His eyes soften too, but there’s still that unease. “I just needed to know you actually cared. That it wasn’t all... nothing.”
Regulus looks like he’s about to say something else, but then, without warning, his arms move—slow, deliberate—and suddenly, he’s pulling James into a hug.
It’s not just any hug. It’s a full embrace, and James is completely caught off guard. His breath catches in his throat as Regulus wraps his arms around him tightly, holding him like he means it. The warmth of Regulus’s body against his makes James’s heart skip a beat, his mind going hazy for a moment. He doesn’t know what to do with himself. He’s never had this happen before—not with Regulus, not with anyone. Regulus hugged him before but it was always in very emotional situations. Never like this.
Regulus’s cheek presses lightly against the side of his head, and James can feel the warmth radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his breath against his neck. It’s not awkward or forced; it’s just... right. Like Regulus is trying to make up for all the distance between them, all the unspoken things that have been left hanging in the air.
James’s chest tightens—whether it’s from the unexpectedness of it all or the butterflies stirring up in his stomach, he’s not sure. He feels like he’s grinning like an idiot, but he can’t stop himself. His fingers curl into the fabric of Regulus’s robes, holding on just a little tighter, as if it will somehow anchor him in this moment.
Regulus pulls back a little, just enough for their faces to be inches apart, and James catches a glimpse of the vulnerability in his eyes—an emotion that’s so raw, so human, that it takes James’s breath away.
“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again, his voice barely audible. “really.”
James’s heart does a strange flip. For the first time, he feels like Regulus is really there with him. No pretenses, no walls, just... him.
Regulus’s arms are still around him, his thumb lightly brushing the back of James’s shoulder. The touch sends a shiver down his spine, and he swears he can feel the heat of Regulus’s pulse in the way they’re pressed together. James can’t help it anymore. He grins like an idiot, his face flushed.
“Y’know,” James starts, voice a little breathless, “I might just forgive you now.” He pulls back slightly, enough to meet Regulus’s eyes with a grin that can’t be wiped off his face. “But don’t go messing it up again.”
Regulus smirks, the familiar glint in his eyes returning. “You’ll be the first to know,” he replies, his voice teasing, but there’s an underlying sincerity that James can’t ignore.
They’ll be fine.