James Potter Has Left the Chat
By the time Regulus is done with school, it's already 3 in the afternoon. He pulls out his phone and unlocks it. His heart stutters the moment he sees the flood of notifications: missed calls, unread messages. His eyes barely skim past the names until one catches his attention. Euphemia Potter.
He clicks the message open, and his breath catches.
James is awake.
Regulus doesn’t bother reading the rest. He doesn’t care what else the message says. James is awake. He’s alive.
He’s already moving before he even processes it, his body acting on pure instinct. He pushes through the crowded halls of the school, weaving past students without a second thought. His mind is racing, his pulse a frantic drumbeat in his ears. He needs to get to the hospital. He needs to see James.
"Regulus!"
The voice barely registers, but then a hand grabs his arm, yanking him to a stop. He turns sharply to find Evan Rosier staring at him with confusion. "Where the hell are you running off to?"
"Hospital," Regulus pants, his chest heaving. "James is awake."
Evan doesn’t hesitate. "I’ll drive you."
The ride to the hospital is a blur. Regulus barely registers the passing streets, his fingers gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles ache. He stares at the screen, at Euphemia’s message. He barely breathes. The anticipation is crushing him, coiling in his stomach like a vice.
When Evan pulls up to the hospital entrance, Regulus practically throws himself out of the car. "Thank you!" he yells over his shoulder before sprinting inside.
He doesn’t stop to check in. Doesn’t talk to anyone. He moves on pure desperation, feet pounding against the tile floors as he makes his way toward the ICU. His pulse is erratic, his hands clammy. He’s barely holding himself together, barely keeping his emotions in check.
Then, suddenly, he stops.
Reality slams into him so hard it knocks the air from his lungs.
Regulus remembers everything. The fight. James’s voice, cold and distant, cutting through the night like a blade "I can’t keep hurting like this.” The way James had walked away without looking back. The way Regulus had let him.
James had broken up with him.
And if James is awake, then, he doesn’t want to Regulus.
Regulus stumbles back a step, his stomach twisting violently. He can’t breathe. He swipes a shaky hand over his face, willing himself to get a grip, but his chest is caving in. He had been so caught up in the sheer relief of James waking up that he hadn’t stopped to consider what that actually meant. James doesn’t want him anymore. Regulus swallows hard, but it does nothing to ease the tightness in his throat. His vision blurs, tears pricking at the edges, but he won’t cry here. He won’t.
Then, out of nowhere, a pair of arms wrap around him, squeezing him tight.
Regulus stiffens. For a split second, his mind blanks, startled by the sudden embrace. But then the familiar scent, fills his senses, and he realizes who’s holding him.
Sirius.
Sirius pulled back slightly from the hug and stared Regulus dead in the eyes. There was an intensity there, something that Regulus couldn’t quite place in his already spinning state.
“You need to be strong for what I’m about to tell you,” Sirius said, his voice low and serious, the kind of tone that made Regulus’s heart drop into his stomach.
The words barely registered before they hit him all at once, shattering whatever calm had settled over him. Regulus felt like the ground disappeared beneath his feet, his breath catching in his throat. His stomach lurched. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears.
“Sirius… what do you mean?” Regulus managed, his voice barely a whisper.
“James woke up,” Sirius continued, eyes darkening. "But something's not right."
Regulus’s chest tightened, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “What do you mean by that?”
Sirius hesitated, looking at him as if he wasn’t sure how to break the news. But then the words came, heavy and final. “The doctor says he has Dissociative Amnesia. It’s localized... I’m not exactly sure what that means, but here’s the deal: He remembers most things, but… some parts are just gone.”
Regulus’s mind spun in a chaotic mess. “What do you mean… parts are gone?”
“He doesn’t remember you, Regulus. He doesn’t even remember meeting you.”
Regulus’s vision blurred for a split second, his chest tightening, a weight sinking deep into his stomach. The words echoed in his mind like a constant ringing, and he couldn’t make sense of it. James had erased him? From his life. From his memory.
His breath grew shallow, heart racing as dizziness took over. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay upright as he fought back tears. This can’t be happening, he thought. But it was. It was real. The finality of it was crashing into him, waves of it.
He felt sick. His mind was spinning, his legs trembling beneath him as he tried to stay steady. The anger, the sadness. It all mixed into a nauseating swirl, and for a moment, he just wanted to disappear.
Sirius’s voice broke through his haze, his voice soft yet firm, “Do you want to see him? He’s sleeping.”
Regulus didn’t even know what he was agreeing to, but he nodded. He was already walking through the halls of the ICU, following his brother, his mind in a fog. All he could think about was James. How he had wanted to be free. How this was what James had wanted, the life he deserved, without Regulus, without the complications. The fight, the hurt, the way Regulus had failed him… all of it. It seemed like the universe was telling him that this was the way it was meant to be.
And as they entered the room, Regulus froze. His eyes locked onto James’s peaceful form, the weight of it all settling onto his chest. There was James, alive, but not the same. And Regulus couldn’t even be angry. Not really. It was his fault, wasn’t it? He had driven James to this point, and now James would never remember him again. His mind drifted back to that fight. James had wanted him out of his life. It was clearer than ever now. James wanted to be free.
The truth of it hit Regulus like a slap. James had been asking for this. And now it was here. James was free. And Regulus? Well, he was nothing to him anymore.
Regulus couldn’t bear the thought of lingering here any longer. He kissed James’s forehead lightly, as if to say goodbye to everything he once thought was his. He turned away, the pain in his chest threatening to suffocate him.
Sirius’s voice caught him off guard. “Where are you going?”
Regulus stopped, feeling his body tense. His throat burned as he tried to speak. “I’m going home,” he said, his voice hoarse. He didn’t need to look at Sirius to know his brother’s confusion.
Sirius stepped forward, his voice rising, “What do you mean, ‘going home’? James is awake. You’ve been waiting for this, right? He’s alive. We’ve all been waiting for this.”
But Regulus just shook his head, stepping back, his hands trembling slightly. “No, Sirius. I’m leaving. I’m done.”
Sirius’s face twisted in disbelief. “What? No, you’re not making sense. You’ve been with him for years, Reg. You... this isn’t right.”
“I’m done,” Regulus repeated, his words clear but breaking as they left his lips. “He doesn’t want me anymore. And honestly? Forgetting me… it makes sense. It’s almost a gift for him. He’s better off without me.”
Sirius’s eyes widened in shock. “No… Regulus, you can’t be serious. He’s awake. He's alive! We can fix things, the memory, everything. ”
Regulus turned away, voice firm, “This is my decision, Sirius. And I’ve made it. I’m going home to pack my things. I’m disappearing. I’m breaking up with him.”
Sirius reached for him, his voice sharp with panic. “Regulus, no! Don’t do this. You don’t have to do this. Not like this.”
But Regulus didn’t look back. He was already done. And nothing, not even his brother’s pleas, could change it.
...
Regulus didn’t remember how he got home. One minute, he was standing outside the hospital, his heart a swirling mess of confusion, pain, and resolution, and the next, he was at the front door of his apartment. He didn’t even know how the time passed as he entered the living room. The moment he stepped inside, everything became a blur of automatic movements.
He threw himself into packing, the motions mechanical, as if doing so would somehow numb the hurt that was tearing him apart. He started with his clothes, his hands trembling as he shoved them into bags, not caring about folding them or making sure they were neatly packed. Then he moved to his shoes. His mind a whirlwind of thoughts he couldn’t contain. It was like he was detached from his own body, just moving through the motions, trying to get rid of everything that reminded him of the love he once had, the life he thought he’d build with James.
By the time the car pulled up outside, Regulus was a sobbing mess on the floor, surrounded by piles of things that once held meaning. Books, photos, memorabilia of a love he no longer had the strength to hold onto. His body shook with every sob, his hands covered in tears and the weight of regret. He was still in denial, but it was too late for anything to be undone now.
Then he heard it. The knock at the door.
Regulus wiped his face quickly, but it didn’t help. His heart hammered in his chest as he stood up, barely able to form a coherent thought. When he opened the door, there stood Sirius, his face strained with concern. He took one look at Regulus, and his eyes immediately flicked to the piles on the floor—bags, trash bags full of clothes, books, things that once belonged to the life Regulus had shared with James.
“We need to talk, Regulus.” Sirius said, his voice tight with something between frustration and concern.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Regulus muttered, his eyes focused on the bags as he moved back to the living room, grabbing a few framed pictures off the walls, images of him and James together in happier times. He wasn’t sure what he expected from this moment, but the fact that Sirius was still standing there, trying to make sense of it all, only added to the pressure building inside him.
“No,” Sirius insisted, following him into the room. “Yes, there is. You’ve been ridiculous. You’ve jumped to conclusions without even bothering to ask what James wants, what he remembers—”
Regulus snapped, ignoring Sirius as he continued to pack. The familiar images of James were packed away one by one. His heart felt like it was being crushed with each picture he tucked into the bag. “I’m not listening to this anymore, Sirius. I can’t… I can’t do this anymore.” His voice was shaking, but his resolve was ironclad now. He was done. He had made his decision.
Sirius’s voice got louder, more pleading. “You’re being a spoiled brat, Regulus. Do you think this is how it’s supposed to go? Living like this? James isn’t gone, he’s just waking up. Sooner or later, he’s going to remember things, and when he does, he’s going to feel betrayed. Do you really want that? Do you want him to feel like you left him when he needed you most?”
Regulus froze. His breath caught in his throat, the words sinking deep inside him. Betrayed. The word echoed in his head, stirring a fury he hadn’t realized was simmering under the surface. He turned around sharply to face Sirius, his voice now cold with anger.
“You think I wanted things to go this way?” Regulus’s voice cracked, but he didn’t care. “You think I want to leave him? You think I wanted any of this?” He paced, his mind racing. “I didn’t want him to forget me. I wanted to talk. I wanted to fix this, to work through everything. Sirius, do you know what really happened?”
Sirius was quiet, his brow furrowed in confusion, uncertainty. “What do you mean?”
Regulus felt a lump form in his throat, but he forced the words out. “James was leaving me, Sirius. We had an ugly fight, I'm the reason he got hit by that fucking driver… he was leaving me. He was walking away from us. I was already too late.”
Sirius looked as if he couldn’t understand. His voice softened, “Reg, that was a heat of the moment thing. He didn't—”
“No,” Regulus cut him off. His eyes were full of pain now, the memories he’d been desperately trying to block out surfacing in painful clarity. “You don’t understand. James was cheating on me. That’s why we fought. Sirius. That's why he was so eager to leave.”
Sirius’s face shifted from confusion to disbelief, and for a moment, he just stared at Regulus, silent. “That’s… that’s not possible, Regulus. You’re wrong.”
But Regulus shook his head, his voice steady despite the unbearable pain. “I wish you were right. I wish I was wrong, but I’m not. And that’s why we fought. That’s why he was leaving me. That’s why he’s in that hospital.”
Sirius didn’t know what to say. His face was twisted, conflicted, as if trying to process what Regulus had just revealed. He couldn’t bring himself to fully believe it. But Regulus’s eyes… they weren’t lying. They were filled with something that told him this was the truth. It was the truth Regulus had been too afraid to face, too scared to admit.
Regulus’s breath was ragged as he threw another book into the bag. The motion was almost automatic now. He wasn’t thinking anymore, just doing, moving, packing away the remnants of his old life.
He moved down the stairs to his car, the weight of every step heavy, suffocating. He couldn’t even look at Sirius as he passed, even though his brother’s voice was still calling out behind him.
“Regulus, stop! Please, just think about this! You don’t have to do this. We can help the two of you.”
But Regulus didn’t stop. He was already too far gone in his decision. He wasn’t sure if he could take the heartache any longer, not when he’d been shown, once and for all, that James didn’t need him.
He opened the car door, his hands shaking as he loaded the last of the bags into the trunk. He closed it with a finality that stung.
Then, without a word, he handed Sirius the key to the apartment, his voice barely above a whisper, “I don’t want anyone trying to help him remember me. I don’t want him to see me again. And I don’t want to be reminded of him anymore.”
With that, Regulus slid into the car, started the engine, and drove away. As he left, Sirius stood on the sidewalk, watching him go, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.
Regulus didn’t know where he was going. He just knew he had to go. The road stretched endlessly ahead of him, the headlights cutting through the darkness, but it all blurred together, just shadows and streetlights passing him by. His hands gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingers ached, but it was the only thing grounding him. His heart pounded against his ribs, his breaths uneven.
In the rearview mirror, he could see the bags piled in the backseat. His life, reduced to a handful of trash bags and suitcases. His entire world, his entire heart, stuffed into things that could be carried, moved, discarded. He had packed up everything, clothes, books, pictures. The things that had made the apartment a home. His home with James.
A sob built in his throat, but he swallowed it down. He wouldn’t break. Not yet.
His phone rang, the sharp sound jarring in the quiet. Without thinking, he pulled over to the side of the road, his breath catching. He didn’t even look at the screen before answering.
“Hello?” His voice was raw, barely above a whisper.
“Regulus.” Euphemia’s voice was soft, but there was an urgency to it. “Are you okay?”
Regulus let out a breath, his grip tightening on the phone. He stared out the windshield, his reflection barely visible in the glass. His eyes were red-rimmed, his face hollow with exhaustion.
“I’m fine,” he said automatically, even though his chest was tight, even though his whole body was trembling.
Euphemia sighed on the other end. “Sirius called me. He said you’re leaving. That you’re leaving James.” Her voice was careful, like she was afraid he’d shatter if she said the wrong thing. “Tell me that’s not true.”
Regulus pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. His stomach churned. “It is.”
There was a pause. Then, softer, “Oh, my dear.”
He squeezed his eyes shut as fresh tears burned behind his eyelids. He was so tired. So unbelievably tired.
“Don’t do this, sweetheart.” Euphemia’s voice was gentle but firm. “James will remember. The doctors say it’s not permanent. We’re setting him up with a therapist, the sessions can help.”
Regulus let out a slow, unsteady breath, his hands curling into fists in his lap.
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“Of course it matters,” Euphemia insisted. “You love each other. Love like this doesn’t just disappear.”
Regulus laughed, but it was a hollow, brittle sound. “Except it did.”
The words felt like glass in his throat. He swallowed hard, his mind spiraling back. James coming home late for weeks, the scent of perfume that didn’t belong to either of them lingering on his shirt, the scrap of paper with a stranger’s number tucked in his pocket. All of it had been leading to that night. The fight. The truth. The moment James said he was done.
And now he didn’t remember any of it.
James had wanted to be free of him, and now he was.
“Regulus, please.” Euphemia’s voice wavered, thick with emotion. “You don’t mean this. You’ve been through so much. You’re hurting.”
“I mean it,” Regulus said, even as his throat burned with the lie.
“You’re making a mistake.”
He swallowed. “Maybe.”
“Sweetheart, listen to me.” Euphemia’s voice was desperate now, pleading. “Don’t do this. Don’t walk away. One day, James is going to remember, and when he does, he’ll be devastated that you weren’t there.”
Regulus’s breath caught. His fingers trembled where they rested on the steering wheel.
He had thought about it, hadn’t he? What if James woke up tomorrow, or next week, or next month, and remembered everything? What if he realized that Regulus had walked away without a fight?
Would he feel abandoned? Betrayed? Would he wonder why Regulus hadn’t stayed, why he hadn’t tried?
But then another thought crept in, one that twisted like a knife in his gut.
What if James never remembered?
What if, for the rest of his life, James never had to carry the weight of their fights, the hurt, the accusations? What if James never had to feel the agony of watching their love fall apart in real-time?
Wouldn’t that be better for him?
Regulus exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “He’s not going to be devastated, Euphemia. He wanted this. He was leaving me before the accident even happened.”
“That was an argument,” Euphemia insisted. “People say things they don’t mean when they’re angry.”
Regulus squeezed his eyes shut. “He cheated on me.”
Silence.
The weight of it was unbearable.
“Regulus…” Euphemia’s voice cracked. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” Regulus whispered. His heart clenched painfully as he pictured all the signs he had ignored for so long. “And that’s why we fought. That’s why he walked out. That’s why he was on that road.” His voice broke on the last word, and he dug his nails into his palm to keep from sobbing.
Euphemia inhaled sharply on the other end. “Oh, my dear boy.”
Regulus shook his head, blinking away tears. “He doesn’t remember me, Euphemia. And I think…” His voice wavered, and he had to swallow hard before continuing. “I think that’s for the best.”
“No,” she said firmly. “That’s not true. You don’t just erase someone like that. Not when you love them the way James loves you.”
Regulus clenched his jaw, his whole body shaking. “Except he did,” he said, his voice hollow. “He forgot me. And I need to forget him.”
Euphemia started to say something else, but Regulus couldn’t do it anymore.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Please, don’t tell him about me. Just… let him be happy.”
And before she could respond, before she could say anything else to break him further, he ended the call.
The silence that followed was deafening.
His phone slipped from his fingers, landing on the passenger seat with a dull thud. He gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles white, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
Then the first sob tore through him.
He hunched forward, his forehead pressing against the wheel, as his entire body shook. His chest ached with the force of it, his shoulders trembling under the weight of everything he had been trying to hold in.
He cried for everything he had lost.
For the life he had built with James.
For the love that had unraveled between them.
For the fact that, no matter how much he wanted to stay, he had to go.
And so, with a shattered heart and tear-streaked cheeks, Regulus wiped his face, put the car back in drive, and got back to the road.
...
When Barty swung the door open, his expression was its usual mix of boredom and amusement, but the second he took in Regulus, his red-rimmed eyes, his face blotchy from crying, something in his gaze shifted.
“Regulus?” Barty drawled, leaning lazily against the doorframe. He was shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. “Did someone die, or did you finally come to your senses about that golden boy of yours?”
Regulus didn’t answer. He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat thick and suffocating. “Can I come in?” His voice was hoarse.
Barty’s brows rose slightly, but he stepped aside. “Yeah, of course.”
As soon as Regulus stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind him, this was it. The end of everything. The door to his past life closing. The life where James Potter loved him. The life where he was someone who mattered. How poetic.
Evan’s apartment was a mess, cigarette smoke lingering in the air, empty beer bottles on the counter, and the faint hum of music playing from an old record player.
Barty didn’t press him immediately, but after calling out for Evan, he guided Regulus to the couch. The second Regulus sat down, his hands started shaking again. He curled them into fists on his lap, trying to still them, but it was useless. His entire body felt wrong, like his skin didn’t fit him anymore.
A moment later, Evan walked in, fresh from a shower. “What’s going—” He stopped mid-sentence when he saw Regulus. His face immediately darkened. “What happened?”
Regulus couldn’t meet his eyes. “I left,” he said, barely above a whisper.
Evan frowned. “Left what?”
Regulus forced himself to look up, his chest tightening. “James.”
Barty let out a low whistle, sinking onto the armrest of the couch. “Damn.”
Evan went rigid. “Reg, what the hell are you talking about?”
Regulus inhaled shakily. “He doesn’t remember me.” The words scraped against his throat like glass. “James woke up, and I don’t exist to him.”
Silence.
Evan exhaled a long breath. “Shit.”
Regulus felt something snap inside him. His vision blurred, his breathing uneven. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the memories wouldn’t stop. James’s laughter, his touch, the way he used to say his name like it meant something. All of it was gone.
And James wasn’t coming back.