The Library of Lucid

When James awoke, the curtains of his dormitory bed resembled bookshelves more than anything. Books, from the floor to the endlessly high ceiling. He blinked, tossed around in his bed, only to find that there was no mattress below him, nor any covers above. His eyes shot wide as he straightened himself, now sitting on the floor. It took him no longer than a split second to understand he was not in his dormitory. Creeped, he stood, uneasy on his feet. There were no windows visible from where he was, and the library was not the Hogwarts library. He roamed the area for a while, careful as to not make a noise. He worried that he had unintentionally broken into a poor lad’s house. 

As he continued to search for an entryway to the outside, he felt that he was going around in circles; it was always the same few rows of books. First, there was a sort of study area with a round table and four chairs surrounding it. All four walls around were built of shelves filled and overflowing with books of different matters. Whichever direction James took, he’d end up standing in front of the table after a few minutes.

He entertained the thought that he was still asleep, and this was a dream that had some complex psychological meaning behind. Something about upcoming exams, perhaps. He wasn’t sure but the idea helped ease his unruly heartbeat. 

Until he heard a voice. A voice too unique, an accent too sharp to be missed. It was that Noble House of Black accent Sirius had never quite weaned off. But the voice remained too alien to be Sirius, meaning, surely, it was Regulus. “Who’s there?” Called the raven haired boy into the dark. James hesitated whether he ought to answer or not. Had he somehow wound up in Grimmauld Place? He sought Regulus with his gaze, but there was no sunlight, or moonlight, for that matter, entering the library. The only source of light were the few candles scattered around the room in a way that barely illuminated any corner. 

“Whoever’s there, reveal yourself or help me Merlin…” Trailed off Regulus.

James bit his lip. If he were to be dreaming, there was no true harm in talking to Regulus. Of course, it was an odd manifestation of anxiety in his subconsciousness. Who could have guessed that, to James Potter, exams provoked the thought of encountering Sirius’s little brother? Nonetheless, he retorted into the dark with a low voice. “Hello?”

A ray of blazing magic shot towards his general direction from where, according to James’s calculations and understanding of the maze-like functionment of the library, the table was. He slowly made his way towards where he guessed the younger was, careful as not to take a hit. It was a dream, of course, but he was in no way eager to test whether he’d feel the damage affiliated by a hex conjured by a Black or not. He peeked his head through one of the bookshelves, coming eye to eye with the half-asleep Regulus. 

It seemed that the younger was preparing to throw another spell his way when he deciphered the identity of the figure standing in front of him. “...Potter..?” He asked, more annoyed than curious. 

James gave a sheepish smile as he stepped towards the table. “You can call me James, most people do,”

“I don’t wish to.”

“Oh. Well, what brings you here, then?” 

Regulus studied James’s face in silence before he spoke. “Hit me,” he said, as simple and cordial as asking a classmate for a spare parchment. 

James blinked twice in confusion. “Pardon me?”

Regulus rolled his eyes. “Hit me, or pinch me.”

The brunette scratched the back of his neck with visible apprehension. He did not feel that, even in his dream, hitting Regulus Black was a sane thing to do. “I don’t really feel like hitting you.”

The younger pressed his forehead against his lanky fingers as he sighed a puff of air, tension radiating off his shoulders. He lifted his head, and his gaze met James’s. “Fine. I’ll do it myself.” And with no further explanation, he walked to the nearest shelf and threw the first book he could get his hands on onto his own foot. He hissed in pain, but seemed significantly unsatisfied when he glanced around. As if nothing had happened, he dropped another book, which was heavier and thicker, on his foot. He hissed once more, and let a frustrated groan escape his lips when he studied his unchanging surroundings. 

James watched from a more analytic point of view. Was this version of Regulus supposed to represent something? Was this a sign that Sirius missed his little brother? Or perhaps, did this have something to do with Regulus’s perfect academic results? Was this his brain’s way of telling him academic perfection causes harm? What was the psychological meaning behind the image of a Regulus Black dropping countless books on his own feet? 

By the eighth book, James had to break his silence. “Isn’t that enough? What exactly are you trying to prove?” He asked, taking a wary step towards Regulus. 

The boy simply glared, and dropped another book on his foot. 

“Stop that.” Said James, a much more demanding tone than he had intended. 

“Wouldn’t need to if you would just hit me.”

The glassed boy’s expression morphed into something comedically upset. “That makes no sense.”

“I wish you weren’t so insufferable.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

James took another step towards Regulus, this time not as timid. This seemed to distract Regulus from the, somehow, monotonous task of dropping books on himself. The shorter raised a brow in a daring manner. It could have been playful had he had a smirk or a grin on his lips. 

“You’re odd.” Finally James decided.

“Is that supposed to be insulting?”

“Just a tad bit.”

Regulus weighed that for a moment, and in the blink of an eye, he threw a book directly at the brunette’s face. 

Before he could protest, James awoke once more. This time, he was in his bed, his mattress was certainly underneath him and he was mangled up in his sheets. Dazed, he reached to his nightstand, searching for his glasses only to find that they weren’t there. He assumed he must have slept with them on, and searched between the many layers of covers and pillows in a futile attempt to find them.

In the end, he pulled the curtains of his bed and approached the bathroom to wash his face and reflect on the… intriguing dream he had had. He would find his glasses later. He shut the door of the bathroom behind himself and turned on the sink. It was only when he looked at himself in the mirror that, low and behold, he had found his lost glasses. They were on his face alright. Only, they were snapped in half, the lenses practically dust due to the many cracks going through them. He groaned in frustration. He’d fallen asleep with his glasses numerous times, but he had never managed to damage them seriously. 

As he finished washing up, he concluded that he must have slept on his stomach, face first, and that was why his glasses were shattered and his face throbbed with the remains of pain. 

Regulus throwing him a book might have been the lucid manifestation of that very pain he felt, perhaps. Or he saw the boy as someone capable of throwing books at any given occasion.

James stepped out of the bathroom to find Sirius and Remus already at each other’s throat. They had been less bantering and more arguing the past few weeks, and the period of time required for their conversations to evolve into disputes decreased more and more with each passing day. James felt that their problems were often rooted in something deeper than whatever idiotic thing they were arguing about. Everybody knew that Remus didn’t truly mind the few cigarettes Sirius stole from him. But they argued anyway. 

Peter was still asleep, so James opted to get out of the room as swiftly as possible. He knew both Remus and Sirius would come talk to him about how the other is a total moron in no later than a few hours. He dodged an article of clothing thrown across the room by Sirius as he hurried to gather his cloak, wand, and the first two textbooks he could get his hands on. 

He heard the sound of something crashing as he closed the dorm’s door behind him. 

In the common room, he was greeted by Marlene, Mary, and Lily who were gathered around a first year student who was holding back tears. Marlene and Lily had humorous smiles they were trying to hide, but Mary was completely serious as she scolded the student. James raised a curious brow as she inched close enough to hear what Mary was saying. 

“- so you’ll go apologise to her, right?” She asked. James kind of felt for the poor fellow. He would have been properly scared had he been his age. The boy nodded.

Mary smiled as if she had not been borderline threatening him and sent him off with a pat on the shoulder. She turned to face the other three as if nothing were the matter.

“What was that?” James asked, but he was laughing.

Mary shrugged her shoulders with a sly smirk on her lips. “I heard he was bothering one of his classmates. Just helped him out,”

They joked of the encounter a little before Lily seemed to freeze on James’s face. When he noticed, he also froze. The colour started to drain from his face. “W-What? Do I have something on my face?” He asked.

“No, no you just… You’re missing something…” She reassured him, but it wasn’t really soothing. Missing something?

Marlene interrupted. “You’re thinking about his glasses, Lils.” 

It was silent for a moment before all three of the girls erupted in laughter. James also giggled along but couldn’t help feeling slightly hurt. Lily Evans, the girl of his dreams, whose face he knew by heart, did not notice he didn’t have his glasses. 

“Oh my, pardon me Potter, I really haven’t had a good night's sleep in a while.” Lily said with an apologetic look. 

He shook his head, a gentle, soft smile on his lips. 

“Where’s Remus?” asked Marlene.

James’s smile turned sheepish once more as he told the girls Sirius and Remus would be running late, but failed to give them a reason. They pushed him on the topic a little more until they felt that it was a lost cause. 

Just as they decided to head towards the dining hall, Peter stumbled down the stairs, His hair was a mess, bags beneath his eyes, and his cloak was half on, half dragging across the floor. They tried to talk to him but he just gave them a defeated look of exhaustion.

James had entirely forgotten about his dream, he had not thought of it ever since he had seen Sirius and Remus fighting once again that morning. It had turned out to be not so relevant, in the end. Or so he thought.

As they approached the Hall, from the opposite part of the building, came a number of Slytherins. This was not unexpected, or an out of the norm occurrence. In fact, this was the case every morning. What wasn’t the case every morning was Regulus Black walking– no, limping, alone. On another note, it wasn’t every day that James and Regulus locked eyes in a hallway filled with too many students to count. 

They each continued to walk with no change in pace, but their gazes never escaped the others. Until someone bumped into Regulus, and he disappeared into nothingness. Suddenly, he disappeared into thin air. James blinked, but assumed that it was his bad eyesight without his glasses that had caused him to lose sight of the boy.

Not that he intended to fixate on Regulus Black. 

A cold breeze seemed to wash over him as he replayed the image of Regulus. His limp corresponded to the foot he had dropped the books on. It was an odd coincidence. 

Perhaps he had done something to injure his ankle during practice, and James had made a mental note of it without being aware of it. 

“Earth to James?” Called Peter, waving a hand in front of James. The brunette excused himself, saying he had zoned off. 

“Can’t blame you. Sirius and Remus’s fights throw me off too.” 

“Yeah.” James agreed, even though that was not actually what was troubling him at the moment. Still, the fact that neither of the two had made it downstairs by now was worrying. “Has anyone been up to check on them?” He asked, more into the open than Peter. A few people shook their heads or murmured a variation of ‘no’. 

The two shared a concerned look. “Should we..?” Proposed Peter. 

James pursed his lips. He certainly did not want to aggravate Sirius or Remus any more, but they had to be in class in less than fifteen minutes, and neither of them had even had the time to shove something down their throat to keep a semi-full stomach till lunch time. 

“Yeah. And take a slice of toast or something. I reckon Sirius won’t come down to eat a bite.” 

When they made it to the front of the dorm, they could hear muffled screaming and the sound of things crashing against walls. Peter and James were more ın edge now, because they hadn’t had a fight so huge in a good moment. 

They both put their ear to the door to listen more closely. 

“... It’s not just a fucking inconvenience, Black! An inconvenience is being a little sad, pulling a muscle every now and then! I kill people!”

“No you don’t! You’ve never killed anyone, you don’t know what murder is. You could have killed someone, but you didn’t.”

There was a brief moment of silence, Peter and James debated whether to enter the room or not. But they remained rigid when the talking picked up again. It was Sirius who spoke.

“Is that it? Does it anger you that you haven’t killed anyone?”

Something could be heard flying across the room and this time, missing the wall. It hit either Remus, or Sirius. James’s hand flew to the door handle, but Peter stopped him. ‘Wait’ he mouthed. 

“That’s insanity. Just to say something like that– you’re fucking mad!” Shouted Remus. 

A few slow footsteps. “It does, doesn’t it?” said Sirius. 

Silence. 

A few more steps. And then a harsh stop. Remus spoke, only his voice was much firmer now. He spoke loudly but it was not a shout nor a yell. “You’ve tainted me enough. Go burden someone else.” 

James and Peter backed away from the door, expecting one of the two to storm out the dorm. But moments passed, and for an insignificant time in the history of the world, it seemed that no one would leave the room.