Something like Magic
It takes Regulus nearly twenty minutes to work up the nerve to actually move. He’s been pacing the same patch of corridor outside the Gryffindor common room, muttering to himself like a lunatic, ignoring the curious glances of passing students. He feels ridiculous. He is ridiculous. But he has to do this.
When he finally climbs through the portrait hole, it’s warm and loud inside. Laughter bubbles from the couches, a game of Exploding Snap crackling in the corner. And there—James. Slouched in an armchair, legs stretched out like he owns the room, curls a little wild, shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He’s talking animatedly with Sirius and Marlene, waving a hand like the dramatics are necessary, and of course they are—it’s James.
Regulus hesitates in the doorway. His heart is thudding hard. But then James glances up, and his face lights up in that effortless, infuriatingly beautiful way, like Regulus is the last person he expected but exactly the one he wanted to see.
James sits forward, a little surprised. “Reg?”
Regulus clears his throat. “Can we—um. Talk?”
James blinks, then looks around at his friends like he’s asking permission. Sirius raises an eyebrow. Marlene smirks. But James stands quickly, brushing his hands on his trousers.
“Yeah. Sure,” he says, suddenly a bit awkward. “My dorm?”
Regulus nods, grateful and terrified all at once.
They walk the short distance in silence, James only glancing at him once or twice. Regulus feels like every step is heavier than it should be. His chest is tight. The second the door to the dorm closes behind them, he forgets how to breathe.
James gestures toward the bed. “You can sit—if you want. Or not. Whatever’s comfortable.”
Regulus hovers by the edge, but doesn’t sit. His hands are curled into fists by his sides.
“I…” He swallows. “I don’t know how to say this.”
James steps a little closer, but not too close. “That’s okay,” he says gently. “Take your time.”
Regulus nods, then takes a shaky breath. “I’m... not good at this. At talking. Feelings. Letting people in.” His voice is barely above a whisper now. “I always assume I’ll ruin it before it begins. That I’ll ruin you.”
James looks at him like he’s seeing right through every cracked part of him. “Regulus—”
“I’m scared,” he interrupts, quickly, before he can lose the courage. “That I’ll do something wrong. That I’ll be too much or not enough and you’ll hate me for it. And I know you’re not asking anything of me, not really, but I—” He cuts off again, lips pressed tightly together. “It’s a mess in my head. I don’t know how to do this.”
James is quiet for a moment, eyes soft. “Hey,” he says, voice low and kind. “It’s okay. You don’t have to explain everything right now. You don’t have to be perfect. Or ready. I just want—” he stops, running a hand through his hair. “I just want you, Regulus. However you come. Even if it’s messy.”
There, James said it. Regulus suspected of course but now? There’s no going back now. That thing they were doing these past weeks? It has a name now.
Regulus closes his eyes for a second. Every word feels like it’s peeling back another layer he’s tried so hard to protect. He wants James. No, he needs him. He really does.
James goes on, quieter now, as if afraid he’ll spook him. “I’m not expecting anything. I promise. I’m just... here. And I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not going anywhere.”
Regulus’s throat tightens. Something about the way James says it—so sure, so simple—makes everything ache. And in that moment, something inside him just snaps. He can’t pretend anymore, can’t keep holding everything back.
“I think you’re someone who doesn’t know how to ask for what they need.”
But Regulus does know. He did it before. He can do it now. And what he really needs right now is James. So Regulus packs up the courage and asks for it.
He steps forward. His voice is hoarse when he says, “James.”
James’s eyes meet his.
“Kiss me.”
James doesn’t speak at first.
He just stares—like he’s frozen in place, lips parted, eyes wide. Regulus can feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck, crawling across his cheeks. Maybe he’s misread everything. Maybe asking was a mistake.
But then James exhales a soft, shaky laugh—like he can’t quite believe what just happened—and something warm breaks open in Regulus’s chest.
“You—” James starts, and then stops, like the words are too big for his mouth.
Regulus swallows, nervous all over again. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to.” James’s voice is quiet but certain now. He steps forward, close enough that Regulus can feel the warmth of him. “Merlin, Regulus. I want to.”
And then he kisses him.
It’s not hesitant. James leans in and presses their mouths together like he means it—like he’s been waiting forever and can’t wait another second. His hands come up to frame Regulus’s face, warm and steady, thumbs brushing along his jaw as their lips slot together.
Regulus melts into it before he can even think.
James kisses like he does everything else—with a kind of wild, honest intensity that makes Regulus’s knees feel weak. There’s nothing calculated or cautious in it. Just want. Just heat and softness and this undercurrent of wonder, like James can’t believe he’s really allowed to have this.
Regulus’s hands fist in the front of James’s jumper, just to keep himself grounded, because everything is spinning. James tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and Regulus lets him, lets himself be guided and held and wanted. Their lips part, slide together again, and Regulus makes a soft sound—embarrassingly helpless—into James’s mouth.
James hums in response, pleased, and then his tongue brushes lightly over Regulus’s bottom lip.
Regulus goes still for half a heartbeat. Then, without thinking too hard about it, he opens up—just a little.
That first touch of tongue is cautious, exploratory. And then James presses in a little more, gentle but sure, like he’s trying to learn Regulus by heart. Regulus’s hands slide up, one curling around the back of James’s neck, the other settling over his heartbeat. It’s fast—frantic, like Regulus’s own.
The kiss deepens slowly, like a tide pulling them both under. Their tongues move together in a careful, curious rhythm. It’s not rushed—it’s all warmth and discovery and that electric hum under Regulus’s skin that says this is real. James tastes like peppermint tea and something sweeter—something just him.
Regulus wants to drown in it.
James’s hands move to his waist, thumbs rubbing slow circles through the fabric of his jumper. It sends shivers up Regulus’s spine. Every part of him feels lit up—like his skin is trying to memorize this touch, this closeness, the shape of James’s mouth against his.
When they finally part, it’s only just. Their foreheads touch. Their breaths mingle, shallow and uneven.
Regulus’s lips are tingling, his heart thundering in his chest. His entire body is buzzing.
James is smiling. Not the big, flashy grin he usually wears, but something soft and quiet and private. It’s just for Regulus.
“Hi,” James whispers, stupidly.
Regulus huffs a breathless laugh. “Hi.”
There’s a long pause where neither of them moves. Then James leans in again, brushing a gentle kiss to the corner of Regulus’s mouth. Just once. Just because.
Regulus closes his eyes. His voice, when it comes, is low and full of something that feels dangerously like hope. “This... was really good.”
James nods against his cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”
Regulus has no idea what happens next. But right now, in this moment, wrapped in James’s arms, kissed breathless and undone, he thinks—
This is all I’ve ever wanted
---
“Sooo…” James begins after a long pause of the two of them just standing there, grinning like idiots. “What now? I mean—why exactly did you want to kiss me just now? What brought you here and… what is this, exactly?”
Regulus sits down on what he assumes is James’s bed and tries to compose himself. Yeah, what now? Why did he just ask James to kiss him?
Well, he knows why.
So he tells him—without meeting his eyes.
“I asked you to kiss me because… because I wanted to,” Regulus says, the words halting, hesitant. “Remember a few months ago, when you told me that you think I’m someone who doesn’t know how to ask for what they need?”
James nods slowly, easing down onto the bed beside him—close, but not too close. Like he knows Regulus needs the space.
“Yeah, I remember. You got really mad at me for that…” James replies, a little sheepish now.
“I did. I think I was, anyway.” Regulus exhales, eyes fixed on the hem of his jumper as he fiddles with it. “But it got me thinking. And… maybe you were right. I started asking for things I needed after that. Being braver. And it worked, every time I did. I felt better.”
He pauses, finally glancing sideways at James.
“So I thought… why not this too? I knew you liked me—it was kinda obvious, to be honest. So I wasn’t really scared you’d reject me. I was just… scared of taking the step, y’know? There’s no going back from it. Whatever happened—happened. And we’ll never be just friends again.”
“Reg, can you look at me?” James asks gently—so gently it makes Regulus’s chest ache a little. So, he does. He meets James’s eyes.
Merlin, James is lovely.
He’s looking at him with that same softness—the kind that makes Regulus feel seen in a way he still isn’t used to.
“I’m glad I could help,” James says, “with learning how to ask for what you need… or want. But to be honest?” He smiles, warm and real. “I don’t think we were ever just friends. And… even if we were, I wouldn’t want to go back to that.”
Regulus frowns. “What do you mean? Of course we were friends.”
“Well—yes. But also… not really,” James replies, stumbling over the words like he’s trying to make sense of it as he speaks. “At first, you hated me—and I didn’t really know you. Then you were… less cold, I guess, but with all the silly questions, the snapping and weird tension, I wouldn’t call it friendship exactly. Then you left that house and started living with us, but that’s when the flirting started. And that’s when I realized I had... uh, not-so-platonic feelings for you.”
“Wait—that’s when you realized?” Regulus cuts in, incredulous. “Back at Christmas? Seriously? I thought it came later.”
“Nope.” James laughs, a little sheepishly. “I was a goner the second you smiled at my mum like that and called me sweet.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” James nudges him lightly with his shoulder. “So I think we kind of… skipped the ‘just friends’ stage. It was always something else, wasn’t it?”
Regulus looks at him for a beat. “Yeah. You might be right.”
“Aren’t I always?” James grins.
Regulus glares at him, unimpressed. James just grins wider
“So… what do we do now?” Regulus asks after a short pause, a little uncertain.
“Whatever you want, Reg.”
“Yeah, figured you’d say that,” he replies with a quiet, slightly awkward laugh. “Thing is… I’m not actually sure what that is. I mean, I—I like you, of course, I really do, but—”
James’s eyes go wide, like that confession alone is news.
“James,” Regulus says flatly, “I held your hand and asked you to kiss me. Did you think that was just for fun?”
James clears his throat, cheeks tinting pink. “Well… I don’t know. Maybe you did it because you knew I liked you?” he offers, clearly uncertain.
Salazar, James can be a bit dense sometimes.
“No, James,” Regulus laughs, shaking his head. “I’d never take advantage of your feelings like that. I might be a bit of a git sometimes, sure, but that’s too far—even for me. And besides, it’d be incredibly stupid. We live together. You’re my brother’s best friend. I’d never do something like that if it didn’t mean anything.”
“Oh. Yeah.” James rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “That makes sense. Of course you wouldn’t. It’s just…” He trails off, voice softening. “No one’s ever really liked me for me before. Not like that, anyway. They like that I’m nice, or that I’m Quidditch Captain, or Head Boy. But not me, not really. So I just—”
He stops, but Regulus doesn’t need him to finish.
That hits him square in the chest. Because if there’s one thing Regulus is sure of, it’s that he likes James for exactly who he is—with or without the titles, the badges, the bravado.
So, without saying anything, he reaches for James’s hand and holds it gently.
James looks up, a little caught off guard.
And Regulus tells him exactly that.
“I like you, James. You—not the Quidditch star, not the Gryffindor golden boy. Just you. The one who makes everyone feel safe without even realizing it. The one who says ridiculous things when he’s nervous and then tries to play it off like he didn’t. The one who grins like an absolute idiot when he’s proud of someone else. I like your messy hair that never stays put, even when you try to fix it. I like the way your glasses always slip down your nose when you're reading and you don’t notice until someone points it out. I like your stupid mismatched socks and how you pretend it’s on purpose when it definitely isn’t. I like how you hum when you make tea, and how you talk to the cat like she’s a person. I just… I like you, James. All of it. All of you.”
James just stares at him.
Mouth slightly open. Eyes wide. Completely frozen like someone’s cast a full-body Petrificus on him.
Regulus watches him, a little amused now. “James?”
“I—what—” James blinks rapidly. “You—you notice my socks?”
Regulus raises an eyebrow. “Out of everything I just said, that’s the part you’re stuck on?”
“I—no! I mean—yes? I don’t know!” James runs a hand through his already-disastrous hair, making it even worse. “It’s just—you said all that stuff. About me. Like… all the little weird things. No one’s ever—Merlin, Reg, I didn’t even know I noticed I do half that stuff!”
“Well, I do,” Regulus says simply. “I’ve been noticing you for a long time.”
James lets out a breath like he’s just been hit in the chest. “You’re going to kill me.”
Regulus smiles—really smiles—and shrugs, entirely unapologetic. “Maybe. But you’ll die adored, at least.”
James groans, covering his face with both hands. “Regulus Black, stop talking before I actually explode.”
“No promises.”
James peeks at him through his fingers, cheeks flushed pink, and grins like he’s trying very hard not to melt into the floor. “You are dangerous.”
“And you,” Regulus replies, leaning in just a little, “are ridiculous.”
James doesn’t move away.
He just whispers, “Yeah, but you like that about me.”
And Regulus—completely undone but trying not to show it—softly says, “Yeah. I really do.”
---
“You know, we still haven’t really talked about what to do now,” Regulus says after a quiet moment. They're still holding hands, sitting much too close for his heart to behave properly. The contact sends little flutters through his chest—butterflies, if he’s being honest with himself. Not that he’d admit that out loud.
“Well…” James begins, glancing over with a half-smile. “You said you weren’t sure yet, so… if you do want to date—maybe?—I’d be very up for that. I will absolutely spoil you rotten. But if you’re not ready, or you just need more time, then… we don’t have to put a label on it. I’ll wait. I’m not going anywhere.”
Merlin, Regulus would actually kill for this man. Which is pathetic, right? Pathetic and completely, utterly true.
“Yeah, um… thanks,” he replies, awkward but honest. “I do want to. I just don’t really know how? You know?”
James gives him a reassuring smile. “That’s okay. I’ve never been in a relationship either. We can be clueless together. Figure it out as we go. Or… I can just be the guy you kissed and wait until you’re ready.”
Regulus lets out a breath of laughter. “The guy I kissed? That’s cold—even for me.”
James grins. “Just saying.”
“How about…” Regulus leans in slightly, eyes glinting, “the guy I kissed… and would really like to kiss again?”
James’s face lights up like the bloody sun. “You do?”
Instead of answering, Regulus leans over and presses a soft kiss to his cheek.
James blushes. Not the usual kind either—this is something new. Something more extreme. He looks stunned in the best way, like he’s still trying to believe this is real.
So apparently soft cheek kisses really work on him. Good to know.
Regulus smirks as he stands, suddenly feeling just a little bit powerful.
“You can be the guy I kissed and would really like to kiss again,” he says coolly. “And some Hogsmeade weekend—when I’m ready—it’ll be a date. A real one this time. With a real kiss. Not an almost.”
James is still smiling, practically glowing, when Regulus walks away.
And Regulus? He might be smiling too—just a little.
---
Regulus practically floats down the hallway.
He’s not even walking—his feet are moving, sure, but it feels more like gliding. The world is blurry around the edges in the best way. His face hurts from smiling, and his hand still feels warm where James had held it, like the touch had somehow etched itself into his skin.
He doesn’t knock when he gets to his dorm. He bursts in like he owns the place—which, to be fair, he kind of does, if only in attitude.
“I just kissed James Potter!” he announces loudly, proudly, and with absolutely no awareness of his surroundings.
Which is how he ends up making direct, unflinching eye contact with Evan Rosier while Evan is very much mid-snog with Barty Crouch Jr., who is currently half in his lap.
They both jerk apart like they’ve been hexed.
Evan wipes his mouth, completely unfazed. “Well,” he says, “someone’s had a very good afternoon.”
Barty just groans and slumps back against Evan dramatically. “Regulus,” he says like he’s in pain, “what in Merlin’s name is wrong with you?”
“I kissed James Potter,” Regulus repeats, slower this time, in case they didn’t fully grasp the magnitude of this revelation. “On purpose. And he kissed me back!”
Evan grins, already amused. “Aw, look at you,” he coos. “Our little Reg’s all grown up and dating a Gryffindor. How precious.”
“We’re not dating,” Regulus mutters, but he’s still grinning like an idiot. “Yet.”
“Oh, yet,” Barty says, mockingly. “How romantic.”
Regulus ignores him. He kicks off his shoes, collapses onto his bed, and stares at the ceiling like it might spell out James’s name in the plaster.
“I like him,” he says simply.
Evan whistles low. “Wow. He’s got you bad.”
“I kissed him on the cheek,” Regulus adds dreamily. “And he blushed like it was the first time anyone had ever touched him.”
“God, you’re gross,” Barty groans.
“And you’re still half in Evan’s lap, so maybe don’t talk.”
Barty flips him off without much enthusiasm.
Evan leans back against the headboard and smirks. “So? The million galleon question—is he a better kisser than me?”
Regulus snorts. “Obviously.”
There’s a beat of stunned silence.
Then:
“WHAT?!” Barty sits bolt upright. “You kissed Evan?!”
Shit.
Regulus turns his head slowly, finding Barty’s expression—which is a blend of outrage, betrayal, and deep curiosity—entirely too satisfying.
Evan, for the record, just shrugs.
“It was one time,” Regulus says, a little too quickly. “And it didn’t mean anything.”
“It was after we both came out to each other!” Evan adds helpfully.
Barty looks scandalized. “I’ve been dating you for months and you never told me you snogged Regulus!?”
“It wasn’t a snog,” Regulus mutters. “It was an experiment. Sort of. We didn’t actually like each other in that way. Which is why James wins.”
Evan huffs, pretending to be offended. “I’ll have you know, I’ve had no complaints.”
“I definitely do,” Barty grumbles.
Regulus watches the two of them bicker for a minute, then flops back down and closes his eyes.
James Potter kissed him. And it was good. So good, in fact, that not even Barty’s dramatics could ruin the mood.
Life, for once, is very good. Regulus giggles. He actually giggles.
“Salazar Regulus, you’re pathetic-“
“Fuck off!”
So what? Maybe Regulus is pathetic then.
---
The next morning, Regulus wakes up early.
Which is unusual. He's not exactly a morning person—usually requires at least one scathing remark and a strong cup of tea before he's even mildly tolerable. But today? Today he’s practically cheerful.
It’s disturbing, honestly.
He throws on his uniform, slips out of the dorm while Evan and Barty are still asleep and tangled in an aggressively intimate pretzel on the other bed, and heads to the Great Hall—not for food. No, he has a mission.
He spots them immediately.
Pandora is braiding flowers into Dorcas’s hair—because of course she is—and Dorcas is pretending not to enjoy it while very obviously enjoying it. They’re tucked away at the end of the Ravenclaw table, away from the chaos of the breakfast rush.
Perfect.
“Good morning,” Regulus says, sliding into the seat beside them without warning.
Dorcas raises an eyebrow. “You’re up before noon. Who died?”
“No one,” he replies, far too casually. “But I did kiss James Potter yesterday.”
Pandora gasps so loudly that half the table looks over.
Dorcas’s jaw drops. “You WHAT?”
“I kissed him,” Regulus repeats, already smiling. “Actually, he kissed me back. Twice. Technically three times if we’re counting the cheek kiss but—anyway. Yes. That happened.”
Pandora clutches her heart. “Regulus Arcturus Black, I swear to the stars—finally!”
Regulus leans forward on the table, grin practically splitting his face. “He was so soft, you don’t even understand. He blushed. Blushed. Like some innocent little first year. And he said he liked me since Christmas.”
Pandora lets out a delighted squeal and grabs his hands across the table. “You’re glowing. You’re actually glowing. I’ve never seen you look this disgustingly happy.”
“I’m not disgustingly happy,” Regulus mutters, but he’s still smiling and it kind of ruins the argument.
Dorcas narrows her eyes. “So what’s the situation now? Are you two... what, dating?”
“Not yet,” Regulus admits. “But we will be. Eventually. We agreed on that.”
Pandora swoons. “Slow burn and mutual pining? Honestly, this is better than any book I’ve read this year.”
Dorcas snorts. “Please, you said the same thing about Sirius and Remus.”
“That’s different,” Pandora waves her off. “They’re a tragic gay epic. Reg and James are more... star-crossed fluff.”
“I don’t know what that means,” Regulus says, “but I’ll allow it.”
Pandora beams at him. “So when’s the next kiss?”
“Working on it.”
“You should wear your blue jumper,” she says. “The one that makes your eyes all stormy and mysterious.”
Dorcas grins. “Yes, weaponize the aesthetic. Use your powers for good.”
Regulus pretends to be put upon, but honestly?
He’s never felt lighter.
And having his own personal hype squad doesn’t hurt either.
At the Gryffindor table, he sees James. Lovely James. And Regulus really wants to be near him right now. So he just walks over. For once, he doesn’t overthink it.