The war had torn Regulus apart, bit by bit.
First, he was forced to take the death mark, abandon his beliefs. He had to leave James by himself, hidden and safe, while Regulus went to fight.
He had watched as his friends slowly lost themselves to the war. Had watched them give their lives for a psychopath.
He had been tortured, mentally and physically. He had been praised for killing and harassing. He had been forced to watch as his family destroyed the world he loved.
And when it was over, he had gone into hiding. He was afraid of what the world would say if they saw him again.
He had committed atrocities. He had killed and tortured and destroyed and decimated. He had torn and ripped and burned.
He had made others cry, so now he would hide and never force anyone to see him again.
It’s been 5 years since the end of the war. Since Voldemort had been defeated and order had been restored. Regulus had lived by himself in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere. He didn’t interact with anyone but the birds and squirrels. He grew his own food and survived by remembering his past actions.
He read and painted and wrote and sang. He talked to the birds and played to the moon at night. He never used magic again, afraid of what it had been used to do.
He was content in his life, if not happy. He knew he wouldn’t go back. He didn’t know if anyone would be waiting for him.
He was lonely though.
It was mid-afternoon on a cool autumn day. Regulus sat in his armchair, patching a pair of pants that had worn through in the knees from hours of kneeling in the garden.
He was humming to himself and was interrupted by a whooshing sound outside. It was a sound from his past and Regulus felt his heart drop and the sound.
He quickly stood up and went to the window to peer through the blinds. He couldn’t see anything but his rows of vegetables growing.
A knock sounded at the door, Regulus jumped.
He slowly opened the door, heart pounding and body tensed. Standing on his doorstep was a face he had been trying to forget all these years. A face he was afraid to imagine.
James Potter, perfectly dark face with growing stubble. Wide, kind eyes. Soft parted lips. Warm cheeks and rough hair.
“Regulus…” James breathed out.
After five years of living by himself, Regulus was startled to hear another human voice. He melted into the familiar sound of James’ honey tones.
Regulus retreated into his house, stumbling to get away from this unseen force.
“How did you find me?”
James followed him into the house, cautious and curious as ever. “I’ve been searching for you every day since I was free. I came to bring you home.”
Regulus stood in the middle of the room, staring at the boy he had fallen for all those years ago. “I can’t come back.”
“Of course you can.” James shook his head and took a step forward, “I need you back, we all do.”
“I’m a monster, James. I did terrible things to innocent people. To your friends”
“I forgave you a long time ago Regulus. I love you. I know you”
“You don’t know me. I’m not the same person I was before the war.”
“That’s okay. I’ll get to know you again.”