The ceremony began. Orion and Sirius both walked Regulus down the aisle and handed him over to James, who immediately wrapped his arms around the younger. Regulus wore a beautiful mating veil, white with delicate embroidery and shimmering as he made his way to the Alpha. His wedding robes clung to the elegant curve of his waist. A slow, approving smile curled his lips as Regulus finally stood before him, the very picture of a noble Omega. James tightened his hold just slightly, a silent reassurance meant only for the Omega in his arms.
Regulus swallowed hard, eyes lowered, lashes fluttering against his cheeks. James could smell his scent,—nervous, warm, and distinctly his—drifted between them, but he could also detect something else beneath it. Not fear, no. Something softer, something expectant.
Orion and Sirius stepped back, their duty fulfilled, and Sirius’s sharp glare did not go unnoticed. It burned into James with an intensity that might have unsettled a lesser man.
But James, ever the insufferable Gryffindor, merely rolled his eyes, lips curling in something dangerously close to amusement. He had expected this, after all. Sirius was nothing if not fiercely protective of his little brother—more so now that Regulus had been all but delivered into James’s arms. He knew that, to Sirius, Regulus was still the soft-spoken boy he had spent years shielding from the cruelties of their family, the only person he had hesitated to leave behind when he ran from Grimmauld Place. It didn’t matter that James had been chosen for this, that he would care for Regulus in his own way—Sirius was still watching him like a wolf guarding its den, waiting for the slightest misstep.
"Hello, beautiful." James said softly, staring at the veiled Omega before him. Regulus lifted his head and nodded.
"Alpha," He greeted, fingers playing with the bouquet of flowers he held.
James clasped Regulus's hand. "Give the flowers to Narcissa or Barty," he requested. "Lest I am unable to hold your hands."
Regulus nodded once more, never really meeting James's gaze
James chuckled under his breath, watching as Regulus turned, his delicate hands placing the bouquet into Barty’s reluctant grasp. The other Omega’s lips pressed into a thin line, his fingers tightening around the stems as if he might snap them in half. Sirius’s grin was downright smug seeing that Barty scowled and glared at him. Barty's father nudged his son, finding his interaction with Sirius, though unnoticeable, to be improper.
Silly Omega, James thought. Of course you'd give the flowers to an unmated Omega.
James shook his head, amused. “Come back to me, sweetheart,” he murmured, offering his hand again.
Regulus turned swiftly, returning to his Alpha’s side without hesitation. His fingers slipped into James’s palm, small and cool, but they fit just right. He wasn't wearing gloves, and James found himself incredibly thankful, being allowed to curl his own around them, warmth seeping into the touch.
With the bouquet gone, there was nothing left to delay the moment. The hall quieted once more, the weight of expectation settling like a heavy veil over the ceremony.
James lifted Regulus’s hand, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles. “Are you ready, love?”
Regulus’s breath stuttered. His lashes lowered, his grip tightening slightly. “Yes, Alpha.”
James hummed, pleased. His free hand rose, fingers toying with the edge of the veil. “Shall we, then?”
With slow, deliberate care, he lifted the shimmering fabric away, unveiling Regulus to the entire gathering. The Omega’s face was pale, his features delicate as porcelain, save for the betraying flush creeping up his throat. His lips, soft and pink, parted slightly as if expecting something. His makeup was nicely done, red lipstick that flushed against his pearl skin alongside glittered eyeshadow that painted his eyelids. His eyes were like Sirius, albeit a shade lighter.
James took his time admiring Regulus. His thumb traced the curve of Regulus’s cheek, reveling in how the Omega continued to tremble beneath the attention. Unused to the touch of an Alpha.
Regulus swallowed, voice barely above a whisper when he finally spoke. “You’re going to bite me in front of everyone?”
James blinked, then grinned. A quiet chuckle rumbled from his chest before he outright laughed, the rich sound filling the ceremonial hall.
“Of course, love,” James said, amusement lacing his tone. “How else does an Alpha claim their Omega, especially from such a noble family? Everyone must witness it—it's tradition.”
Regulus felt his stomach tighten at the weight of the words, at the sheer inevitability of it. His throat bobbed, his cheeks growing warmer as James’s grin only widened, clearly enjoying his reaction. "It's embarrassing. . ."
James leaned in just a fraction, dropping his voice to a teasing murmur. “Don't worry, it is not out of the ordinary. Who knows, maybe your brother will be next,” he mused, eyes glinting with mischief. “Imagine that—Sirius standing where I am now, and Barty all pretty and blushing, waiting for his turn.”
Regulus glanced toward Sirius, who stood nearby in a very relaxed position. He seemed unaware of the conversation, gaze fixed on Barty, hardening when the Omega's father came close. Barty, for his part, seemed annoyed, though his fingers twitched at his sides, betraying his composure.
Before Regulus could say anything, James tilted his chin up, bringing his attention back to him. The playfulness in his gaze hadn’t faded, but his grip was firm.
“Now, be good for me,” James murmured. “It’s time.”
James let his fingers linger, stroking the curve of Regulus’s jaw, the delicate line of his throat. He could feel the rapid pulse beneath his touch, the way Regulus barely breathed, as if holding himself together by sheer will alone.
"Easy," James said softly. His other hand came up to press gently between Regulus’s shoulder blades, grounding him. “You’re alright, sweetheart.”
Regulus swallowed hard, barely nodding.
James smiled before tilting Regulus’s head further, exposing the untouched skin of his scent gland.
A ripple of murmurs passed through the gathered purebloods, the air thick with expectation.
Regulus’s breath hitched when James leaned in, his lips brushing against the soft, unmarked skin. He felt the warmth, the teasing flick of James’s tongue, and he shivered violently.
Then, pain.
Sharp, searing, and deep—James’s teeth sank into his throat, breaking through soft flesh with no hesitation.
Regulus let out a strangled sound, almost a whimper, his hands instinctively flying up to grasp at James’s robes. His body tensed, his thighs clenching as every nerve in his body screamed at once. His instincts told him to yield, to take it, but— Merlin, it hurt.
His breath came in short, shuddering gasps. He could feel James’s grip tightening, keeping him still as he bit down harder, cementing the claim.
Regulus squirmed, a fleeting resistance born out of sheer overwhelm, his body unsure if it wanted to flee or melt. But James was relentless. He held Regulus firm, his own body flush against the Omega’s to keep him from pulling away.
James growled lowly against his throat, soothing the bite with a slow lick, a deep rumble vibrating from his chest.
“There,” he murmured against Regulus’s skin, his voice heavy with satisfaction. "All mine."
Regulus shook, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest. His head felt light, his body warm and thrumming with something he couldn’t quite name. His grip on James’s robes didn’t loosen, as if he needed something to anchor him.
James took a step back, but not far. He wasn’t ready to let go just yet—not when Regulus was still trembling in his arms, breath shallow and eyes unfocused.
His Omega.
Marked.
Claimed.
The thought sent a swell of possessive satisfaction through him.
Orion and Fleamont stepped forward to inspect the bite, as tradition dictated. The father of the groom and the bride had to ensure the claim was concrete. Regulus, still dazed, barely registered his father’s cool fingers brushing against his nape, tilting his head to expose the wound further. Orion’s face was unreadable as he examined it, his touch impersonal. A silent nod passed between him and Fleamont.
“It is done,” Orion confirmed, voice steady.
Fleamont, more expressive than his Black counterpart, smiled slightly and clapped James on the shoulder. “A strong claim. You didn't hold back,” he remarked, approval clear in his tone. “Good job, James.”
James smirked. Of course it was.
"You'll come to us in the morning," Fleamont instructed his son. "After you consummate your marriage. Your mother will check to ensure everything went well, but you must come down first to confirm everything is in order."
James nodded. He knew that. Regulus would have to stay in bed until he was seen by Euphemia who would ensure they actually partook in their first act of sexual intercourse. For Regulus to leave the bed right away would be an offensive act--meaning his Alpha didn't do a thorough job.
As the formalities concluded, the crowd around them began to murmur, the ceremony nearly finished. But before James could lead Regulus away, a familiar figure slipped through the throng.
“Regulus.”
Regulus blinked at the sound of his name, still sluggish. Then, a familiar scent wrapped around him, grounding. He turned his head to find Barty standing close, concern flickering in his sharp blue eyes.
“Barty,” Regulus rasped, voice quieter than he intended. He cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure.
Barty frowned but didn’t comment, instead reaching out to grasp Regulus’s wrist gently. “Are you alright?” he asked, voice low. "The bite wasn't too much?"
"Mm," Regulus nodded. "I'm kind of tired. . .but mostly fine."
"Will you leave now, or will you stay until the banquet is finished?" Barty inquired, his eyebrow quirking upward as he asked the question. He still had the bouquet of flowers clasped firmly in his hand. "Pandora and Evan are waiting for you."
"I'm not sure," Regulus confessed. "I think my Alpha prefers leaving. No worries, I'll greet them tomorrow."
Barty rolled his eyes. "He can't wait?"
James watched the interaction with mild amusement, arms still loosely curled around Regulus’s waist. “Don't worry, Crouch,” he drawled, a lazy grin tugging at his lips. “I’ve taken excellent care of him.”
Barty shot James a sharp look but wisely chose not to engage directly. "You've a loose Alpha, Reg."
"Barty!" Regulus admonished in shock. "Your father can hear you, do not instigate problems with him."
"I don't care, he can fuck himself."
After hearing that comment, James felt that he wasn’t done. He tilted his head toward the crowd, where Sirius still lingered, watching like a hawk. “You might want to step back before my dear brother-in-law catches you loitering too close,” James teased. “Unless you fancy being scruffed like a disobedient pup.”
Barty’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t move just yet. "You can fuck yourself too," he snarled. "Your brother-in-law has no authority over me, Potter,"
James raised a brow, amused rather than threatened. “No?” he mused, tilting his head slightly. “Do you want to test that theory? Because I’m sure Sirius would be delighted to remind you of your place.”
Barty’s grip on the flowers tightened and his lips thinned into a disapproving line. "You’re insufferable,” he sneered. “Merlin help poor Regulus, shackled to you for life. It’s a tragedy, truly.”
James only grinned, unbothered, delighting in riling the younger Omega up. “You wound me,” he drawled, pressing a hand over his heart in mock injury. “Jealousy is an unbecoming shade on you.”
Barty scoffed, nose wrinkling. “Oh, please. If I wanted a lapdog of an Alpha, I’d have my pick of far better options than you.”
Regulus, still feeling lightheaded, noticed Barty's father coming closer, watching the interaction closely. He was trembling with rage. Regulus didn’t want Barty and James to argue with that man watching. Not here. Not now.
“Barty,” he murmured, just enough to catch his friend’s attention. “Stop.”
Barty exhaled sharply through his nose but softened, just a little. “Fine,” he muttered, his gaze flickering once more to the fresh mark on Regulus’s neck before stepping back. “I’ll see you soon. You'll tell me if Potter hurts you.”
"Mm."
James hummed as Barty turned away, but before he disappeared fully into the crowd, James couldn’t resist one last dig. “Tell me, Crouch,” he called after him, voice laced with teasing arrogance. “Will we be attending your mating ceremony next? Or do you need Sirius to chase you down first?”
Barty’s shoulders stiffened, and though he didn’t turn back, the way he nearly tripped over his own feet was telling. "Fuck you Potter!" he yelled as he caught himself.
James grinned, satisfied, and looked back down at Regulus, who sighed softly.
“Did you have to antagonize him?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.
James smirked, rubbing slow circles against Regulus’s hip. “Of course I did,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against his temple. “Had to make sure no one forgot who you belong to.”
"It's just Barty." Regulus mumbled.
“Just Barty?” he echoed. James exhaled through his nose, irritation flickering in his dark eyes. He tugged Regulus a little closer, his fingers pressing into the small of his back. “You never spoke to me like that in Hogwarts."
Regulus blinked up at him, confused. “Like what?”
“Like that.” James’s lips curved, but there was something else beneath it—something taut, controlled. “So easy, so familiar. You barely looked at me back then, and now you have all these words for Barty Crouch?”
Regulus’s breath hitched. "I--"
"Focus on me, love,” he murmured, brushing his lips just above Regulus’s ear. “Not your friend.”
Regulus swallowed, his cheeks darkening. James was being ridiculous--but still, it was the Alpha's big day, and he had the right to make it all about him. After all, any other Alpha would have had his way with Regulus a long time ago. Not James though, he respected Regulus enough to maintain boundaries.
Regulus lowered his gaze. “…Yes, Alpha.”
James exhaled, pleased, and pressed a kiss to his temple, satisfaction curling in his chest like warmth. “Good boy.”
Regulus smiled, his heart warming at the praise.
James laced their fingers together and gave a gentle but insistent tug. “Come now, little love,” he murmured, his voice rich with something deeper, something possessive. “We must finish our bond.”
Regulus swallowed hard, feeling the weight of those words settle in his chest.. He knew what that meant—what was expected. It was tradition, after all. The public ceremony had solidified their union in the eyes of their families and society, but the true binding, the final act of sealing their bond, was to take place in the marriage bed.
James, ever the gentleman, leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss just beneath Regulus’s freshly marked throat. “You needn’t look so stricken,” he consoled, voice like velvet. “This is what we’ve prepared for, what was always meant to happen.”
He let James guide him away from the watchful eyes of the guests, through the grand halls of the Potter estate, where candlelight flickered against rich mahogany walls. The lingering guests murmured their well-wishes as they passed, but James hardly heard them. His focus remained solely on the Omega beside him.
The wedding chamber was adorned with soft candlelight, the sheets of the marriage bed perfumed with lavender and rose, chosen to calm an Omega’s nerves. And, of course, there would be proof of the consummation—delicate traces left on the pale silk sheets,
James hummed, thoughtful, and pulled him in close, hands settling firmly on his waist. “You have nothing to fear,” he said, pressing a kiss to Regulus’s forehead. “I would never hurt you.”
Regulus exhaled shakily, gripping James’s robes as he pressed his face against the Alpha’s shoulder. “I know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just… everyone is expecting it.”
James sighed and tilted his chin up. “Forget them,” he said, his tone firm. “This is about us. No one else.”
Regulus bit his lip but nodded again, his heart pounding as James gently led him toward the bed. The room was dimly lit, casting long shadows across the floor, and the thick velvet curtains enclosing the bed made it feel even more intimate.
James sat down first and coaxed Regulus onto his lap, his hands warm and steady as they traced slow circles against his waist. “We’ll take our time,” he promised, voice low and reassuring. “There’s no rush.”
Regulus exhaled softly, leaning into the warmth of his Alpha. And for the first time that night, he allowed himself to relax.
James shifted, adjusting Regulus so the Omega was straddling his lap, delicate fingers resting uncertainly against his shoulders. The weight of the night still lingered between them, but James had no intention of rushing this—no intention of letting uncertainty fester in his mate’s mind.
His hands smoothed over Regulus’s waist, grounding and firm. “Before we go any further,” he began, voice steady, “we need to set some expectations.”
Regulus tensed slightly, his fingers twitching against the fabric of James’s robes. “Expectations?” he echoed.
James hummed, tilting his head slightly. “Yes. We are bonded now, Regulus. I am your Alpha, and that means certain things will be required of you.” He let his fingers trail slowly up Regulus’s back, feeling the slight shiver that followed his touch. “You will obey me, always. When I give you a command, I expect you to listen without question. My word reins over anyone else, even your father.”
Regulus swallowed, his breath catching slightly, but he nodded. Walburga had drilled that lesson into him early on. An Omega’s duty was to their Alpha—to serve, to obey, to follow without hesitation.
James studied him carefully, then continued. “That doesn’t mean I will be cruel to you,” he assured, his voice dipping softer. “You are mine to protect, not to harm. But I won’t tolerate disobedience.” His grip tightened just slightly at Regulus’s waist. “If I say something, I expect you to listen.”
Regulus bit his lip, his heart hammering in his chest. “…And if I don’t?” he asked hesitantly.
James chuckled, a low, knowing sound. “Then I will have to correct you.” He brushed his lips against Regulus’s temple, his grip still firm. “But I don’t think you’ll make a habit of testing me, will you?”
Regulus shook his head quickly, feeling warmth creep up his neck. “No, Alpha.”
“I know, you're my good boy.” James exhaled, pleased, then leaned back against the headboard, watching Regulus carefully. “Now, there’s more.”
Regulus let out a small breath, steadying himself.
James traced a slow line up Regulus’s spine, his fingers deliberate. “You will sleep in our bed every night. No exceptions.” He tilted his head. “You will come to me when I call. And when we are in public, you will stay close to my side—I won’t have anyone questioning your place.”
Regulus nodded again, his mind racing to commit each rule to memory.
James’s fingers trailed up, finally settling beneath Regulus’s chin, tilting his face up to meet his gaze. “Most importantly,” he murmured, “you will not keep things from me. If something is wrong, you will tell me.” His thumb brushed over Regulus’s bottom lip, lingering. “Understood?”
Regulus hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded once more. “Understood.”
James watched the way Regulus would react when he hesitated, his delicate fingers grazing the edge of his discarded wedding veil as if debating whether to reach for it. It was instinct, James realized—the veil had been a constant, a shield, something that had always kept Regulus at a careful distance from the world. But that would not do. Not anymore.
James reached forward, catching Regulus’s wrist and stilling him. “No full-face veil,” he said firmly. “Not anymore.”
Regulus blinked, momentarily thrown. “What?”
James tilted his head, his grip gentle but unyielding. “The Black family kept you hidden behind fabric, obscured like some delicate thing meant only to be admired from afar. I won’t have that.” His voice softened, though the authority behind it remained. “You are mine now, and I refuse to let you hide from me.”
Regulus’s brows furrowed. “But—”
“No.” James cut him off with a shake of his head. “No full veil. If you insist, you may wear the half-face one, if it brings you comfort. But I will not have you disappearing behind cloth as if you are something to be veiled away.” He ran his thumb over Regulus’s palm, grounding him. “You belong at my side, seen, recognized. No one will question that.”
Regulus swallowed hard, his fingers clenching into James’s robes. “I can't. That’s all I’ve ever known,” he admitted, voice small. "Even after mating, it's still expected. . ."
James exhaled, his expression softening for just a moment. “I know,” he murmured. “But that changes now. You are not just a Black anymore, Regulus. You are a Potter.”
"What if Sirius doesn't like that?"
"Sirius hates those traditions, thinks they're foolish. And I take great pride in what is mine.”
Regulus looked away, his ears tinged red, his thoughts tangled between old habits and this new, overwhelming reality.
James leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss to his temple. "Are you ready?” he asked, his voice low, just above a whisper, as he helped Regulus settle back against the plush bedding, the satin sheets cool against their skin. It was a question, but not one Regulus could avoid, not when it was clear in his posture, his every hesitant movement that something was shifting between them, something ancient, something long foretold.
Regulus swallowed, hands reaching to hold the elder. “I trust you,” he replied. James was like the sun, warm and radiating joy. He would always be safe in his arms.
A moment passed, their eyes locking with an unspoken understanding. James’s hand moved gently to Regulus’s waist.
"Do you think I'd get you pregnant on our first night?"
". . .I should like to have a pup soon."
James’s laughter came easily, rich and warm, filling the quiet space between them. “I suppose that’s a bit much for tonight,” he said, brushing a hand through Regulus’s hair. “But we'll get there. In time.”
The light teasing in James’s tone was tempered by the sincerity in his eyes, and Regulus couldn’t help but feel a sense of comfort in the certainty James held about their future.
The morning after their wedding, the atmosphere in the room was thick with the quiet intimacy that followed the bonding. The light of dawn filtered softly through the curtains, casting a glow over the room. James lay next to Regulus, his fingers brushing the younger man’s skin with a soft tenderness, stirring him out of sleep.
Regulus shifted awake, almost immediately trying to sit up. He winced slightly, memories of last night flooding his mind. His face flushed deep red at the thought. He had just... he had just shared himself with James, in a way he’d never experienced before. It was still so new, so overwhelming, and he could still feel the lingering warmth of James’s touch.
“Stay in bed,” James yawned. “My mum will be up soon to check on you. I’ll go down first to confirm with them that I've deflowered you. Do not leave this room until she arrives.”
Regulus frowned. "But I wanted to see Sirius or greet Pandora as I promised."
James raised an eyebrow. "It is not appropriate for an Omega to be seen outside their new home the day after their wedding."
Regulus’s lips parted in a small pout. He didn’t understand all of the reasons behind these rules, some of them being foolish. "I don’t understand," he mumbled. "If not Pandora, it’s just Sirius."
James’s gaze softened for a moment, his hand reaching out to gently brush back a lock of Regulus's hair. “Besides, you'll see them soon enough. Let me take care of the details.”
Regulus huffed, irritated but resigned, sinking back into the soft pillows with a faint groan. James's command was clear, and he knew better than to defy it.
James grinned. “Aw, don’t be so grumpy. Just enjoy the quiet, yeah? Besides, you’re married now. It’s the least you can do—get used to being pampered.”
Regulus flushed deeper, pulling the covers up a little higher, now aware of just how much pampering they were talking about. He couldn’t help it—the whole situation felt so weird now.. He hadn’t expected to feel so exposed, so fragile after everything. His body ached in the strangest way—he wasn’t sure if it was the aftermath of their intimacy or just the overwhelming feeling of being so... open. So exposed.
"I think we've had enough pampering, Alpha."
“Never enough,” James said with an easy laugh. “Now, I’m gonna go down, confirm everything with Mum and Dad, and you just... stay right here.” He winked at him, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Regulus was.
James yawned, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He got up and made his way downstairs into the sitting room where his parents awaited him. Fleamont stood by the window while Euphemia sat primly in a chair, her hands folded neatly in her lap. Walburga was seated as well her lips pressed in a tight line as her sharp eyes took in James's appearance.
“James,” Fleamont greeted him first, a pleased smile curling at the corners of his mouth. “I trust everything went according to plan?”
James returned the smile, a smirk of his own playing at his lips. “Yes, Dad. I rather enjoyed myself."
Fleamont chuckled, the lines of his face softening with affection. “Well done, son. Can’t say I didn’t expect you to handle things with style.”
James couldn’t help but grin. “Nothing too complicated. Regulus was a willing participant—didn’t exactly make me work for it.” He glanced briefly at his father, a playful glint in his eyes. “Of course, I made sure to do things the right way, but he’s a good boy.”
Walburga's lips curled in disdain at the comment James made. “I suppose that’s how it’s meant to be,” she said with finality. "Tell him that he is not to see anyone from the Black family for a while. We do not like to parade Omegas around, nor does the family like seeing Omegas who were. . . recently run through. It’s shameful to show his face so soon after the ceremony. Let him wait it out in private."
James raised an eyebrow at her tone, unfazed. The Black's disdain was nothing new to him, but it still stung—especially when it was aimed at someone he cared about. "I’ll tell him, don’t worry. Not that he’ll like it, I suppose," he replied smoothly, his voice even.
Euphemia sighed "You can’t expect him to hide away. Regulus needs his mother in these moments.”
Walburga scoffed. "He should do well to remember his family's honor comes before something as silly as emotions."
Euphemia shook her head in disapproval. "Insane," she whispered. Her gaze softened as she turned to James. “Go check on him, darling. I’m sure he’s waiting.”
James nodded, giving them all a final glance before heading up the stairs. As he moved, he couldn’t help but feel a flicker of frustration. Regulus deserved more than the cold, clinical distance of the Black family’s traditions. But that was the world they lived in—where expectations and appearances reigned above all else. And if he had to be the one to break those norms for Regulus, then so be it.
At the top of the stairs, James paused outside the door to their chamber. He could hear the soft rustle of sheets within, and his heart gave a little leap. Regulus, as stubborn as ever, was probably laying there wondering how to navigate the ridiculous expectations everyone had.
With a gentle push, he opened the door, his eyes softening as he stepped inside.
"How’s my little Omega doing?" James asked with a teasing smirk, though his voice was full of warmth. "You didn’t listen to them, did you?"
