The words stung in a way she hadn’t expected. Because they were true, she wasn't good. Regulus was every bad thing there was in being a Black. She was a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor hero.
Sirius had always had an escape. She never did.
And now, in two days, she would walk down an aisle, vow herself to a stranger, and lock the last door that could have ever led her away from this house, this life. There would be no letters, no well-wishes, no last-minute rescue.
Because Sirius wasn’t coming back.
Because Sirius had already forgotten her. He found a brother.
Regulus closed her eyes, pressing her palm against her mouth to stifle the sob that threatened to escape.
Kreacher, uncertain and hesitant, reached for the hem of her sleeve, a rare act of comfort. “Mistress is not alone,” he whispered. “Kreacher will always serve.”
She let out a shaky breath and nodded. It wasn’t what she wanted. It wasn’t enough.
But it was all she had left.
===============
The morning of the wedding arrived far too quickly. Regulus stood in front of the mirror, her hands trembling as she adjusted the lace on her gown. Her reflection seemed distant, a stranger staring back at her. Her thoughts were a mess—jumbled and terrified. Regulus had always feared the expectations of this day, but the reality of it, of the night that would follow, was worse than she had imagined. She was supposed to be a dutiful daughter, a perfect wife, a perfect Black. Yet, she was nervous and nauseous all the same.
Narcissa did her makeup as was custom. It was supposed to be Andromeda because she would've been the elder and sane female family member, but she was long gone. Or free. Only a Black could prepare a Black, her grandfather used to say. Andromeda wasn't one anymore.
It was awkward. Narcissa was extremely careful with her movements, dabbing creams and powder on her face. Not a word was exchanged between the two.
But, in a rare moment of kindness, when Regulus's makeup was finished, Narcissa squeezed her hand and gave her a quick hug.
“Their family is not our family,” Narcissa whispered, her voice low, almost a secret--then she left.
Regulus stood there for a long time, trying to gather herself. She had to pull it together.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.
"Regulus," Orion called from the doorway, sharp and commanding, "It’s time."
She took a deep breath, smoothing her gown down as she met his gaze. His eyes, cold and unwavering, studied her face for a moment before he extended his arm to her. He did not compliment her, but this was their normal. It was okay.
Regulus stepped forward. Her father’s arm locked around hers, and she allowed him to lead her.
As they moved toward the door, her heart pounded against her ribs, louder than the sound of her father’s footsteps. The door opened, and the brightness of the hallway seemed blinding, just for a moment.
Regulus could see her cousins standing on the side next to her mother. Lucius stood tall, hand in hand with Narcissa, and held the rings. She turned around and spotted Sirius standing with what she assumed were James's parents.
And--that hurt. Seeing her brother stand with a stranger, choosing him over her. But it was the next thing she saw that twisted her heart.
Sirius was there, on the groom's side. She barely recognized him—so far removed from her side, so distant from her. He wasn’t standing with her. He wasn’t standing with his own blood. Not with Regulus, his sister, who would desperately need the support and encouragement of a male family member on such a day. Her wedding day.
Merlin, she felt stupid.
Still, Regulus continued walking down, deciding to not spare Sirius a glance. He didn't care, so she wouldn't either.
On the end, near the altar, stood both Dumbledore and James, the latter dressed in luxurious red robes embodied with gold patterns. He still wore his usual glasses, but his hair was brushed neatly and styled in a way that actually framed his face. Not bad looking, to give him credit.
Orion let her go, and went to stand next to Walburga. Regulus could see Sirius give a hesitant wave from the tip of her eyes but she ignored it. She saw how his face fell and his smile faded, but did not react.
Sirius ignored me too, all those years ago. She thought bitterly. Chose the Potter over me. Why would I spare him kindness when he didn't do the same for me?
Dumbledore began speaking, and Regulus tuned him out. Talks of duty, of the prophecy, she did not care. Yet, she noticed James was staring at her, rather intensely.
"What?" She mouthed, knowing he could see her under the veil. "Stop staring at me you oaf."
"Can't," James mouthed back, looking over at Dumbledore before returning his gaze to Regulus. "You look beautiful, glowing like a star."
Regulus stared at him in shock, her mouth hanging open. She quickly glanced at Dumbledore, who smiled at her with that knowing look of his, and she turned red.
”Shameless!” She whispered, glaring at James.
”Is it shameless to to flirt with my wife?” James retorted, still speaking in a low tone.
Behind him, Regulus could see Sirius staring at them with a frustrated expression, arms crossed so tightly it was a wonder he hadn’t turned to stone. Next to him, both Lily and Remus were quietly laughing, Remus even having the audacity to wipe a fake tear as if this were the most touching moment of his life. Sirius turned to glare at them, muttering hurried words—likely complaints about James’s lack of dignity—only to be silenced when Professor McGonagall (who, Regulus had to admit, looked rather nice) gave him a sharp nudge. He huffed, straightened his robes, and then leveled James with a glare so fierce it could have burned a hole through his head. Regulus did not know why, but found it interesting.
However, she did not need to look behind her to know that her parents were probably fuming at such. . . such dishonorable displays in public.
”Well, stop,” She said hesitantly. “Mother won’t allow it.”
James observed him for a moment and offered a small yet reassuring smile. “Okay, my star.”
Regulus stiffened at the use of her nickname. Only Sirius used to call her that. Bellatrix too, but she always said it in a condensing matter to humiliate her.
"Is it okay if I call you that?" James asked, noticing her discomfort.
And, it seemed for a moment, all that Regulus could do was stare at James. He was truly handsome. His face, usually alight with mischief, was softer now, the usual cocky smirk replaced with something gentler, something just for her. Unlike her, he brought life to every place he went, like a spark waiting to catch fire. And yet, as James looked at her now, there was no arrogance, no teasing—just quiet admiration, as if Regulus were the only thing in the world worth looking at.
"I suppose so." She decided.
Dumbledore’s words faded into the background once more as Regulus focused on steadying her breathing. This was happening--it was time.
“The Vow,” Orion Black announced, his voice cutting through the hushed murmurs like the edge of a blade. His presence alone demanded silence. “As per the tradition of our house.”
Dumbledore did not stop back, rather, it was Orion who stepped forward and placed himself between the two, holding an ancient dagger, its hilt adorned with silver serpents. To receive the blood and adorn the Black family tapestry with its newest member.
Orion held out his hand. James, to his credit, did not hesitate as he stepped forward, extending his palm. The blade pressed into his flesh, not deep but enough to draw blood. A single crimson bead welled at the surface before slipping down his wrist.
James turned to Regulus, expectant.
She could feel the weight of the moment settling in her bones. Slowly, she lifted her hand, her fingers trembling slightly.
The blade was colder than she expected. A sharp sting, a flash of pain, and then warmth as her own blood pooled in her palm.
Her father took both their hands and pressed them together, palm to palm, blood mingling between them.
"With this offering, the House of Black accepts the bond between Regulus Arcturus Black and James Fleamont Potter," Orion intoned. "Blood to blood, magic to magic, bound by oath, bound by legacy. From this moment forward, they are tethered, their fates entwined. Let no force undo what has been sealed here today."
A whisper of magic coiled around their hands, invisible yet suffocating in its intensity. The vow was set, James Potter's name woven into their tapestry as the husband of a Black. Blood would recognize blood. Their union was not just a contract but a binding, an unbreakable tie.
Regulus exhaled slowly as the officiant finally released their hands. James’s fingers lingered, gripping hers gently, grounding her. She didn't dare look at her parents, but she knew Walburga would be satisfied.
Sirius, however, was another matter.
She stole a glance in his direction and found him watching her with an expression she couldn’t quite decipher. Frustration? Pity? Perhaps both. But what did it matter? He had made his choice long ago.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, drawing their attention back. “With the vows exchanged, we now seal this union.”
James reached for her hand once more, his touch light but unwavering. He lifted a gold ring—the one that had belonged to his grandmother and slid it onto her finger.
She took his ring in turn, a band of black with silver carvings, an antique in the Black Family, warmed by her touch, and slipped it onto his hand.
“The stars bear witness,” Her father declared. “You are bound.”
At that, James leaned forward and lifted her veil. Time slowed, and all Regulus could do was watch as his expression shifted—first to surprise, then to something impossibly soft. His lips parted slightly, hazel eyes roaming over her face as if he were committing every detail to memory.
Regulus braced herself, waiting for a flicker of disappointment, for the teasing remark she was sure would come. She must look dreadful—too pale, too thin, nothing like the kind of bride James Potter should have. But instead, his smile grew, slow and reverent, like she was something to be cherished.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, voice so quiet it was meant only for her. His fingers brushed the side of her face, warm and careful. “Like a star shining brightest when it’s finally found where it belongs.”
Regulus blinked, startled, her heart stumbling over itself. She had never been described like that before—never been looked at like that before.
"You may kiss the bride." A voice rang out.
Regulus wasn't sure who said it and she didn't care. She was lost in the moment, in those eyes that seemed to study every part of her.
James leaned forward and gently placed his hand on her waist, pulling her closed. He tilted his head, as if asking for permission.
Regulus's eyes darted back and forth. "You'll stay with me?"
"Until the very end." said James.
Something deep within her cracked, a quiet, unseen unraveling. No one had ever promised her that before. No one had ever meant it.
And then James leaned in, tilting his head just so, giving her time to pull away if she wished. But she didn’t. His lips met hers, gentle and patient, as if he had all the time in the world to kiss her properly. It was warm, grounding, and utterly tender in a way that sent a strange, foreign ache through her chest.
James kissed her like she was something precious. And Regulus had never felt more loved.
When Regulus walked to the bedroom that was meant for the consummation of their marriage, Narcissa found her once more. She grabbed her by the arm, and forced Regulus to stop.
"Listen to me," Narcissa said in a rushed voice. "You're away from the claws of your family now. Don't let this moment be fearful, it should be a joyous one."
Regulus rolled her eyes. "Okay."
"You don’t owe anyone anything." Narcissa continued with a sort of finality.
"Mm."
"Reg, stop that," She snapped. "If you tell Potter to stop, he will. He holds respect for filthy mud bloods, why wouldn't he respect you?"
"I don't know what I'm doing," Regulus muttered under her breath, the frustration and uncertainty finally making its way to the surface.
Narcissa gave her a look, not unkind, but firm. "It’s simple, Reg. You’re married now. This is supposed to be about you and him. The two of you."
Regulus swallowed hard, trying to ignore the sting of her cousin's words. She couldn't shake the feeling that her family’s view of her—of this—had always been so black-and-white, so impossibly rigid. Yet she gave a curt nod, and with a final glance at Narcissa, made her way to the bedroom.
The bedroom felt suffocating. Regulus stood in the doorway for a few minutes, her heart thumping in her chest. She then heard the soft rustle of James’ movements behind her, but her body felt frozen, as if her feet refused to carry her further into the room. James turned toward her, a soft smile playing on his lips. It was a smile that held no mockery, no pressure, just warmth. It made her feel... something she couldn’t quite describe—comfort, maybe. But it felt strange to her, foreign in a way.
He simply watched her, his eyes not impatient, but understanding.
"Hey," he said, his voice quiet. "You really are beautiful, glowing like a star."
Regulus paused at his words, the sudden compliment catching her off guard. She blinked, then let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
“Really?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, tinged with uncertainty.
James nodded, his gaze soft and steady. “Really,” he repeated, his smile never fading. “You’re nervous, I can tell. You and Sirius are the same when you get nervous, squaring up your shoulders and frowning at everyone. But--you’re beautiful. And that’s the truth.”
“You don’t have to say that,” she said quietly, her hands fidgeting with the hem of her dress. She couldn’t help it—the discomfort was settling deeper, making her want to retreat. “I’m not—”
James stepped toward her then, his footsteps light, the space between them narrowing.
“I’m not saying it because I feel like I have to, Reg,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m saying it because I want you to know it. You don’t have to fit anyone else’s expectations. Especially not mine. Just… be you.”
Regulus swallowed, her throat tight as she tried to hold back the rush of emotions. She hadn’t realized how much she needed to hear those words, not just from anyone, but from him. A man she barely knew and spoke to, a man that was her husband.
He took another step closer, this time taking her hands in his, his touch warm and comforting. She stiffened for a moment, but his grip was gentle, not demanding. “It’s okay, Reg,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “Tell me if you want to do this.”
She nodded, her heart still pounding, but a little less tight now. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
James smiled then, his usual playful grin returning, but there was a tenderness to it now, a softness in the way he looked at her.
“You sure you’re okay? Because I’m happy to talk about the weather or, you know, why the hell Snape wears those awful robes, if that’ll help.”
The unexpected humor caught her off guard, and despite herself, she couldn’t help but laugh—a soft, quiet sound that felt like a crack in the walls she’d built up for so long.
“I— I’m fine,” she said, a slight smile tugging at her lips, more genuine than she’d expected. “It’s just…”
"W-wow," James stuttered. "Even your laugh is beautiful."
Regulus glared at him. "Shameless."
For a long moment, they stood there in silence, and Regulus felt a strange, comforting peace settling over her. It was different.
Then,
“I don’t know what to do,” she admitted, her voice small again, betraying the vulnerability she’d been trying to hide. “This isn’t… it’s not like anything I’ve known.”
James nodded, his gaze never wavering. “It’s okay. We don’t have to have it all figured out right now. It's my first time too. We can know and not know together.”
Regulus met his gaze then, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she didn’t feel the pressure to be perfect. She didn’t feel like she had to fit herself into a mold that wasn’t hers. She just had to be herself. And with James by her side, she could let go of the fears that had always held her back.
“Okay,” she said softly, her lips curling into a small, genuine smile.
James’s eyes softened, his expression filled with affection. He leaned in slowly, his breath warm against her skin, and for a moment, Regulus thought she might lose herself entirely in the closeness. His lips brushed against hers, soft and tentative, as if asking permission. She didn’t pull away.
The kiss deepened just enough for her to feel the warmth of him, the promise of something more without words. His hands were gentle as they cupped her face, his thumbs tracing along her cheekbones with a tenderness that made her heart skip a beat. Regulus let herself fall into the kiss, letting go of the tension she had held so tightly.
James’s touch was steady, his movements a careful dance between respect and desire. She felt his hands slide to her waist, pulling her closer, his body heat intensifying the moment. Regulus’s breath hitched as the kiss broke for just a second, their foreheads resting together.
“I’m not going anywhere,” James whispered, his voice rough but soft. “Only if you’re ready.”
Regulus nodded, the uncertainty still there, but now it was met with a trust she hadn’t expected. Her hands found his shoulders, feeling the solid strength of him beneath her touch, grounding her. “I think... I think I am,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
James kissed her again, slower this time, more deliberate, as if savoring the moment. The room, the world outside, seemed to fade away as they moved together, closer and closer.
His lips trailed down to her neck, his kisses soft and slow, coaxing out a sigh from her lips. Regulus’s heart pounded in her chest, the steady rhythm of it mixing with the warmth between them. She reached for him, her hands slipping under his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin.
“James,” she murmured, her voice unsteady, “I—”
“I know,” he said quietly, his hands gently pulling her closer, his lips pressing against her ear. “You’re safe here.”
With each kiss, each touch, the walls inside her began to crumble, piece by piece. Regulus let herself feel everything—the warmth, the closeness, the vulnerability. James's hands slowly creeped up to her dress, gently opening the buttons and pulling the fabric down.
"Simply beautiful." He whispered. "Merlin, I've been blessed."
And when the kiss finally deepened again, with more urgency, their bodies close enough that she could feel his heartbeat against hers.
====
After the party:
Rita Skeeter bustled around the room, her Quick-Quotes Quill hovering eagerly, while a photographer maneuvered for the perfect shot. Regulus and James stood together in the center, their families arrayed stiffly behind them.
"Now!" Rita trilled. "Postures straight, chin up, eyes on the camera! And for Merlin’s sake—smile!"
James immediately laced his fingers through Regulus’s, tugging her close with an easy familiarity. Regulus stiffened for a second but allowed it, settling into place beside him. They both faced the camera, waiting.
"I said smile!" Rita barked. "This looks like a funeral!"
James sighed dramatically. "I am smiling!"
"Not you, your wife—she looks like she’s waiting to be sent to Azkaban."
Regulus shot her a withering glare but said nothing. She had more important things to focus on—like the movement in the crowd behind them. There was a shift, a rustle, and then—
A familiar face peeked out from between the guests.
Regulus’s breath caught. Andromeda?
It was her. The same warm brown hair, the same sharp yet kind eyes—Andromeda, in the flesh, standing among the crowd with an unmistakable grin.
She lifted a hand in a small wave, her smile widening when Regulus met her gaze. And for the first time that day, Regulus found herself smiling too, uncaring of the cold eyes watching her from the Black family’s side.
James was already watching her when she turned to him, his own smile soft and knowing.
"Potter—it's Dromeda, it's Dora!" she whispered, half-afraid that saying it aloud might make the moment disappear.
James followed her gaze and nodded, voice quiet. "Yes, yes it is." He studied her, tilting his head. "Are you happy?"
Regulus looked back at Andromeda, at the cousin she thought she’d never see again. The answer was easy.
She turned back to James, still smiling, just as the camera flashed.
