Small Talk, Work And The Weather
Sirius looks at his brother with piercing eyes. Regulus, as calm as ever, offers a small, nonchalant smile that doesn’t reach his gaze at everyone, while they’re all still staring at him. Sirius can see how he’s scanning the room, studying them, meeting everyone’s eyes without the enthusiasm Remus has. There’s a moment of uncomfortable silence. James, not one to be able to stand so much tension, gestures towards the seating area with a grin. “Well, come on in, both of you. This is Christmas, after all. The more, the merrier.”
Sirius realizes that no one is willing to ask what they’re all probably thinking. Are Remus and Regulus together now? It’s a question that hangs in the air, unspoken, but palpable. Sirius begins to feel sicker than he was this morning. He tries to hide it, but the effort is as fruitless as he could expect. How could they do this to him? Breathing gets to be a difficult task again, as Sirius watches everyone move along to the living room. He stays put, his legs unmoving. Remus… Remus is here, which is everything Sirius has wanted and feared in equal measure, only that he decided to bring along Sirius’s trauma with him. Is this revenge? Does Remus hate him that much now? His eyes begin to sting, but he pushes everything deep down like he’s used to do. Once he thinks he has it under control, he joins everyone else in the other room.
There’s a silence that begs to be filled, and Peter, sensing the tension in the room, takes a large gulp of his drink, his voice breaking the stillness with a chuckle. “Well, this just got interesting, didn’t it?” He says with a light tone, making everyone chuckle at the situation. Sirius forces a half-smile, but inside, his mind is racing. There’s a part of him that wants to step forward, pull Regulus aside and finally address the elephant in the room, hug him and then cry; or pull Remus aside and scream at him for this betrayal, but also to beg for forgiveness. He’s feeling so many things at the same time that he doesn’t know what to do first or if he should do anything at all. He doesn’t know if he has any right to do so. He feels so off-kilter that he thinks that for now the best thing he can do is shut up.
Mary is the next to speak, a teasing grin on her face. “So, uh… Remus, you gonna introduce us to your… uh, companion?” She gestures lightly to Regulus, clearly trying to lighten the mood, though her curiosity is obvious. Everyone knows who Regulus is, but introducing him as if he was a stranger is probably the easiest way to make this go as smoothly as possible.
Remus looks at her, then at Regulus, before responding with his usual dry humor. “This is Regulus. We’re just here for the party.” He doesn’t explain anything beyond that. His tone is easy, casual, but the hint of discomfort is still there, buried beneath the surface.
Lily watches them both, her eyes flicking between Remus and Regulus. Sirius is struggling to breathe, and Peter’s casual banter is the only thing keeping him grounded. But as Remus and Regulus settle in, the group falls back into the rhythm of their Christmas gathering, the tension hanging just beneath the surface, though no one dares to address it.
The clatter of silverware fills the air as the group settles around the long dining table, the scent of the Christmas meal lingering in the background. It’s supposed to be festive, cheerful even, but Sirius can’t shake the tightness in his chest, the uncomfortable knot that has settled there since Remus and Regulus walked in together.
Sirius sits across from Remus, trying to keep his focus on the food in front of him. Remus, for his part, doesn’t seem to notice the distance, as he joins in the conversation with the others. He still hasn’t looked at Sirius once since he came to Lily’s home. That stings. His laugh, sharp and full of that familiar sarcasm, doesn’t have the same effect on Sirius as it used to. Now, it feels like a reminder of everything that’s gone wrong.
The room buzzes with chatter and laughter. Remus has Regulus by his side, both of them talking quietly frequently. To anyone else, it might just seem like two close friends, or a couple. But to Sirius, it feels like a sharp knife twisting in his gut. Even if he wants to look away from that view, it’s like his eyes are locked on them.
As the conversation picks up, Mary and Marlene are in full swing, their laughter filling the room. “Marls,” Mary starts, her smile teasing, “I swear, if anyone saw you outside this place, they wouldn’t believe you’re with a designer. That look of yours... does it come with a snowstorm warning?”
Marlene raises an eyebrow and fires back without missing a beat. “Oh please, Mary, you’re one to talk. Are you wearing that to impress people, or just to let everyone know you're always ready for a nap?”
Laughter bursts out around the table, and Peter laughs so hard he nearly chokes. Even Pandora smiles, though she tries to hide it, while Lily struggles to contain her laughter with a hand over her mouth.
“So, Remus,” Marlene teases, drawing attention back to him, “still writing poetry, or have you found some new ‘inappropriate’ hobby to match your charm?”
Remus shrugs, his tone full of dry humor. “Not exactly poetry, but definitely a few... more interesting things.” Sirius stays silent, watching the easy interaction between them, between all of them. Even Regulus, sitting so close to Remus, is participating with ease, and it twists something in Sirius’s gut.
The night goes on, laughter filling the space. Pandora, with her light and breezy voice is recounting the chaos of a recent charity event. "Honestly, I thought we'd lose half the donations just to the 'lost in transit' curse," she says with a laugh.
Regulus, who’s been listening intently, raises an eyebrow and says something of his own volition for the first time that night. "You know, organizing anything for charity should be considered a test of patience. That or a form of self-inflicted punishment." Sirius vaguely remembers that Regulus liked Pandora in school, he used to talk about her. Maybe that’s why he’s contributed to the conversation.
Mary chuckles, 'I think Lily would agree with that, seeing that she couldn’t get out of being in the Organization Committee," she teases.
Lily chuckles, not missing a beat. "Well, someone had to make sure the place didn’t look like a kid’s birthday party."
James laughs, shaking his head. "I think the only thing worse than organizing charity events is actually attending them." He winks at Lily, who rolls her eyes good-naturedly.
As the banter goes on, Sirius watches as Remus says something to Regulus, that dry, sarcastic tone filling the room, and his brother leans in just a little too close, his face lit up by a soft, almost knowing smile. The way they laugh together, like they’ve been doing it for years, makes Sirius feel a wave of anger rising in him, something hot and visceral. It’s not jealousy, he tells himself. It’s betrayal.
Treason.
"Loyalty," he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for the group to hear. His eyes never leave Remus and Regulus, watching them with a mixture of disgust and hurt. "It’s funny, isn’t it? How quickly some people forget about loyalty."
Lily, who’s been watching the dynamics unfold, arches an eyebrow, but doesn’t intervene. James gives him a pointed look, but only Peter seems to have it in him to say something. "Come on, mate," Peter starts, trying to keep the tone light as he leans back in his chair, lifting his glass. "You're not really gonna start with that, are you? It’s Christmas."
Sirius narrows his eyes, his lips curling into a sneer. "Right. Christmas. The time for... warmth, I suppose," he says with a sharp, cutting edge, each word wrapped in bitterness. He barely looks at Peter, his gaze still fixed on Regulus and Remus, the way they share that silent, unspoken bond.
Pandora, trying to make light of the situation, chuckles from her spot on the table. "Okay let’s take some time to calm down," she remarks, looking between Sirius and Regulus. "This, uh, tension, is driving the holiday spirits away."
Regulus meets his eyes for a second, unfazed. He’s used to this, or used to be, to Sirius’s attempts to needle him. "Don’t start, Sirius," he says dryly, not even looking at him. "You don’t want to ruin the mood."
"Really?" Sirius snaps, his voice cutting through the air. "Because it seems to me, I’m just pointing out the obvious for everyone with eyes, with that cozy little setup you have going on here with Remus." His words are sharp, like daggers, but he can’t seem to stop himself. "What’s next? Are you going to start calling him Moony now too?"
Remus flinches ever so slightly, the nickname hitting him in a way Sirius hadn’t expected. But his face remains stoic like a statue. He sets his drink down on the table, the tension between them palpable. "You’re out of line, Pads," he says quietly, his voice carrying that calm quality. He still doesn’t look at him when he says it, but Sirius can see the flicker in his eyes, the ghost of hurt.
Sirius’s anger rises, the words tumbling out before he can stop them. "Yeah? I’m out of line? I’m not the one going behind people’s backs," he spits, eyes locking with Regulus, daring him to deny it. "Betraying… friends, playing games with emotions." There’s a beat of silence, and for a moment, it feels like the entire room holds its breath. Regulus doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, he just sits there, arms still crossed, his expression as cool and unreadable as ever.
"Your problem, Sirius," Regulus finally says, his voice low and deliberate, "is that you think everything revolves around you. It doesn’t." Sirius frowns at his brother and scoffs. Typical of Regulus to deflect like this. As if this didn’t involve him directly.
Remus clears his throat, his gaze on Regulus. "Enough," he says firmly, his voice with an edge of finality. "This isn’t the time."
Sirius laughs darkly, the sound hollow and bitter. "No, of course not," he retorts, taking another sip of his drink. "Not the time for honesty. Not when we’re all pretending everything’s fine."
Lily, sensing things are about to escalate, tries to lighten the mood again. "Well, on that note, who’s ready for dessert? Pandora baked a cake! Let’s not let it go to waste." But her words don’t quite land the way she wants. The group falls into a strange, uncomfortable silence, everyone caught in the undercurrent of Sirius’s anger and the unresolved tension between him and the two traitors.
Remus shifts in his seat and finally, finally catches Sirius’s eye for a fleeting moment. What Sirius sees there is what hurts him the most. There’s nothing left in that look except distance, as if there’s nothing between them anymore. Is it, Remus? Is it really over now? He wants to ask, to scream, but he doesn’t.
As Lily cuts Pandora’s cake, Sirius realizes the scene he’s caused by not being able to hold himself back. But he still feels like a fucking ticking bomb, ready to explode at any second. What is Regulus thinking? Is he affected by Sirius’ presence after so long without seeing each other like he is? Because despite hating these circumstances, deep down he’s glad to see his brother looking so good and healthy. He used to look like a sick victorian child, and even if he’s still leaner than Sirius, he does look very good. But he can’t be too happy about it, as everything is clouded by the emotions accumulating in Sirius’s body all at once.
They move from the dinner table to the sofas, and the floor in some cases, to eat the dessert. Forks scrap against plates as chatter once again bounces off the walls. The earlier tension seems to have thinned out a bit, though Sirius can still feel it coiling in his chest, ready to snap if prodded too hard.
Marlene leans forward from her spot on the floor, waving her fork for emphasis. “I swear, my gran always manages to get the most bizarre gifts. Last year? A tea cozy shaped like a cat. I don’t even drink tea.”
“Well, it’s the thought that counts,” Gilderoy says, raising his glass with a teasing grin.
“Depends on the thought,” James interjects, smirking. “My dad once gave me a dictionary. A dictionary. Like he was trying to tell me something about my vocabulary.”
“That’s sweet though,” Remus murmurs, his tone warm. He’s been more quiet since Sirius’ outburst, and Sirius has been watching him closely, waiting for a crack to be seen in that calm facade. “At least he cared enough to give you something useful.”
The comment isn’t directed at him, or meant to sting, but Sirius’ jaw tightens. He lets out a low chuckle, sharp and fleeting. “You’re right, not all gifts are meaningful. Some of us just had to make do with whatever was convenient.”
Regulus, leaning back in his chair with the same calm detachment he’s had all night, finally speaks. “Well, it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?” His voice is light, almost casual, but Sirius can hear the faint edge beneath it.
Sirius glances at him, his lips twitching into a tight smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “That depends on what the ‘something’ is.”
“More carrot cake, anyone?” Lily cuts in swiftly, her voice bright and slightly forced. She’s already standing, gathering empty plates. “I’ll grab it from the kitchen. James, you’re helping.”
James groans but rises from the sofa, throwing an exaggerated pout in Lily’s direction. “I thought being charming exempted me from chores.” Sirius, who’s still watching Regulus after their last word exchange, notices how his jaw clenches when James speaks. So he still hates him, right. Not everything has changed then.
The moment shifts, the tension dissolving under the new focus. But Sirius doesn’t join the others’ chatter. He swirls the dregs of his drink, his thoughts a mess of half-formed accusations and unanswered questions.
It is an hour later that Sirius, being the wreck he is, ruins the night for good. The conversation had drifted into lighter topics for a while, old stories from school, Gilderoy’s latest influencer debacles, and a chaotic recount of the last time James tried to cook. Laughter fills the room, though Sirius sits on the edge of it, only half-listening, his leg bouncing impatiently. He throws in the occasional comment, his tone sharp, his humor biting. It’s like he can’t help himself.
Remus has barely looked his way all night, something Sirius notices with growing agitation. And Regulus… well, Regulus is too comfortable, leaning slightly into Remus when they sit, engaging easily with the group, even sometimes smirking at James’ awful jokes. Sirius’s gaze keeps flickering between them. The sight claws at him, stirs every insecurity he’s ever buried. It’s when the conversation veers toward holiday plans that Sirius snaps.
“I’m staying with my parents this year,” Mary says cheerfully. “Mum’s already made a list of everything she wants me to bring. It’s like I’m their personal courier or something.” Everyone laughs, though Sirius, nursing his whiskey, barely smirks.
“What about you, Remus?” Lily asks, leaning back against the couch. “Do you have plans?” Remus hesitates for the briefest of moments, and Sirius catches it instantly.
“Actually, I’m spending the Christmas holidays alone this year,” Remus says casually with a shrug, though there’s a strange tightness in his tone. Remus’ parents died when he was nine, so that doesn’t surprise Sirius.
“Alone?” Pandora asks, surprised. “That’s no fun,” she says pouting. “You should come have dinner a few times with Lily and me,” she offers.
Before Remus can answer, Sirius chimes in, his voice cutting through the warmth like a blade. “Oh, don’t feel too bad for him. He’s not really the alone type, is he? He will find someone to keep him company.” The room quiets slightly, not that Sirius cares right now, the shift in tone palpable. Remus’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t respond. Instead, he takes a measured sip of his wine, his gaze fixed firmly on a wall.
James frowns. “Alright, Sirius,” he says lightly, trying to ease the tension. “Let’s not make this awkward.”
Sirius ignores him, his focus entirely on Remus. “What? Just pointing out the obvious. Isn’t that right, Moony?” His voice drips with mock innocence, though the bitterness underneath is impossible to miss.
“Let it go, Sirius,” Regulus says suddenly, his tone cold but calm. “Let’s not start anything.”
Sirius’s attention snaps to his brother, and something in his expression hardens. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Reggie. We’re just talking, aren’t we?” Regulus raises an eyebrow, his expression unimpressed, but doesn’t rise to the bait.
It’s Remus who finally speaks, his voice steady but sharp. “That’s enough, Sirius.”
“Enough of what?” Sirius retorts, leaning forward, his eyes blazing. “Enough of me speaking my mind? Or enough of me existing in the same room as you?” The words hang heavy in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks.
“Sirius,” Lily says softly, warningly, but he shakes his head, brushing her off.
“Because if it’s the latter,” Sirius continues, his voice rising slightly, “you could’ve saved us all the trouble and just not shown up.”
Remus stands abruptly, his chair scraping loudly against the floor. His face is calm, but his hands are clenched tightly at his sides.
For a moment he just stays like that, standing in silence while looking at Sirius. They stare at each other and time seems to freeze, unspoken words dancing between them like old friends. Sirius’s breath catches in his throat as Remus looks at him with an intensity he hasn’t had during the whole night. Then, as he looks away, he speaks. “Enjoy the rest of your evening everyone,” he says quietly, his voice firm and tone monotonous. He doesn’t wait for a response, turning on his heel and walking out of the room without a glance back. The silence that follows is deafening. Sirius sits frozen for a moment, his chest heaving with barely restrained anger and something far more painful. He doesn’t look at anyone, doesn’t even seem to notice the heavy stares fixed on him.
It’s Regulus who breaks the silence, his voice calm but laced with steel. “Well done, Sirius. You have outdone yourself.” Sirius’s gaze snaps to his brother, something dark flashing in his eyes, but Regulus doesn’t flinch.
“I’m going to check on him,” Lily mutters, standing up and following Remus out of the room. The door clicks shut behind Lily, and the silence she leaves behind feels oppressive. The rest of the group exchanges uneasy glances, the festive warmth of the evening all but extinguished. James opens his mouth, as if to say something, but closes it again, shaking his head.
Sirius stares at his glass, jaw tight, every muscle in his body wound like a spring. James is watching him with a mix of worry and frustration, Peter’s awkwardly fidgeting with the cuff of his shirt, and even Gilderoy seems unsure of what to say for once. It’s Regulus who speaks once again, his voice razor-sharp.
“You know,” he says, and Sirius can feel another storm coming his way, as his brother swirls the wine in his glass lazily, “for someone who is so good at running away, you have a lot to say about people staying.” The words cut through the air like a blade, and everyone freezes.
Sirius’s head snaps up, his gaze locking onto Regulus. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Regulus doesn’t flinch under his brother’s glare. Instead, he leans back in his chair, tilting his head slightly, his expression deceptively casual. “Oh, come on, Sirius. Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.”
“Regulus,” James warns softly, his tone uneasy, but Regulus ignores him. As if Regulus would listen to James Potter, Sirius thinks.
“You left, remember?” Regulus continues, his voice steady but full of quiet venom. “Walked out and never looked back. And yet here you are, throwing stones like you’re some kind of saint.” His heart is pounding so fast, Sirius feels at the border of breaking apart.
His hands clench into fists on the table. “I left because I had to. You know that,” he mutters through gritted teeth.
Regulus lets out a soft, humorless laugh. “Of course. You had to, didn’t you?” His gaze sharpens, and there’s something colder behind his eyes now. “Had to leave home. Had to leave me.” The words land like a punch to Sirius’s gut, and for a moment, he can’t breathe. He stares at Regulus, his face pale, the usual fire in his eyes extinguished.
The people around them shift uncomfortably at the scene the Blacks are causing. James reaches towards Sirius’s arm with his hand, but he doesn’t quite touch him. “Alright, let’s just…”
“No,” Sirius says suddenly, his voice low and hoarse. He stands up from his chair abruptly. “No, let him finish. Apparently, he’s got it all figured out.”
Regulus raises an eyebrow, unbothered by Sirius’s reaction. “I don’t need to figure it out. I lived it.”
Sirius’s breath comes faster now, his chest rising and falling unevenly. “You think it was easy for me? Leaving that house? Leaving you?!” His voice cracks slightly, the words raw and unfiltered.
Regulus shrugs, his expression unreadable. “I think it doesn’t matter. You did it anyway.” The room feels suffocating now, the weight of the conversation pressing down on everyone. Pandora looks like she wants to disappear into the couch, and Marlene has gone unusually quiet, her gaze fixed on the table.
Sirius takes a step back, shaking his head. “You don’t understand,” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Maybe I don't,” Regulus replies coolly, setting his glass down in a coffee table with a soft clink. “But you didn’t exactly stick around to explain it, did you?” It’s too much. Sirius storms out of the room, his footsteps heavy and uneven as he disappears down the hallway. The remaining group sits in stunned silence, the echoes of the argument lingering like smoke.
As he leaves the room, he can hear how James exhales slowly. “Well,” he says, his voice heavy with disbelief, “Merry fucking Christmas.”
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The air in Lily’s flat feels heavier now, weighed down by the aftershocks of Sirius and Regulus’s exchange. James watches as Sirius storms out of the room, Pandora trailing behind him with an anxious glance. Lily had already gone after Remus earlier, and for a moment, James considers following Sirius himself. But something keeps him rooted to his spot, maybe it’s the weight of what was said, or maybe it’s the fact that he doesn’t know how to fix this.
Instead, he turns his attention to Regulus, who remains sat with his drink in hand. The younger Black brother looks unnervingly calm, his face as unreadable as ever, but James catches the subtle way his hand twists a napkin. It's almost imperceptible, but enough to tell James that even Regulus isn’t entirely unshaken by what just happened.
James hadn’t seen Regulus Black in years, not properly, anyway. The last time they’d been in the same room, Regulus had been a wiry teenager with an air of cold superiority, always lurking in the background while Sirius stole the spotlight. They hadn’t spoken much back then, and James had never bothered to change that. So, when Regulus walked into Lily’s flat tonight, James almost didn’t recognize him.
He’d looked... older, sharper. Still pale and angular, with that same Black family elegance that seemed carved into his very bones, but there was something different about him now. He carried himself with a kind of quiet confidence that felt less like arrogance and more like someone who’d grown comfortable in their own skin. It was unsettling, really, how much he reminded James of Sirius and yet felt like a complete stranger.
At first, James thought he might have imagined it. The way Regulus’s eyes flickered toward him when he entered, that brief hesitation like he wasn’t sure how to approach. But then Regulus had nodded, just a slight incline of his head, barely noticeable, and James had felt something strange stir in his chest, something like curiosity.
James hadn’t expected to feel that. He hadn’t expected to feel much of anything at all, to be honest. Regulus had always been Sirius’s problem, not his. A younger brother stuck in the shadow of the family’s golden rebel, too proud and too stubborn to ask for help even when he clearly needed it. But tonight, as James watched Regulus navigate the room with his calm demeanor and sharp, measured words, he couldn’t help but wonder if they’d all underestimated him.
James can’t stop thinking about how strange it is to see him here, in their space, after all this time. How strange it is to realize that Regulus Black isn’t a ghost of the past anymore. He’s flesh and blood, sitting at their table, drinking their wine, and somehow managing to unravel everything James thought he knew about this family.
James sighs and sinks back into his chair, glancing around the room. Mary and Marlene are exchanging whispered comments, their expressions somewhere between discomfort and curiosity. Gilderoy tries to fill the silence with a lighthearted anecdote that no one seems to be listening to except Peter, seated beside James in the sofa. He is unusually quiet, his gaze flickering between Regulus and the door Sirius disappeared through.
It’s all a mess. A proper, catastrophic mess.
And yet, James can’t help but feel that odd pull of curiosity toward Regulus again. He just finds everything about his sudden appearance tonight intriguing. Maybe it’s just the mystery of him being here at all, speaking with them like it’s the most normal thing in the world. With Remus.
James frowns at the thought. He doesn’t want to make assumptions, but the idea that Regulus and Remus might be together gnaws at him. It feels strange, almost wrong, though he can’t quite put his finger on why. Maybe it’s because he’s used to seeing Remus with Sirius, or maybe it’s because the dynamic just doesn’t make sense to him. Regulus and Remus? They’re nothing alike. And yet, when he thinks about the look on Regulus’s face earlier, the way he was almost protective of Remus, it makes James’s stomach twist in a way he doesn’t entirely like. Still, he doesn’t ask. He can’t. Not after everything that’s just happened.
Then there’s Sirius. James knows his best friend better than anyone, and he’s seen Sirius at his best and at his worst. Tonight, though… tonight feels different. Sirius’s anger wasn’t the wild, reckless kind James is used to. It was cold, sharp, and aimed directly at the people he’s supposed to care about most.
He shakes his head and leans toward Peter and whispers, “So… what do you make of this?”
Peter hesitates, his brow furrowed as he considers his words. “I think… we’re better off not asking questions right now,” he mutters, his voice barely audible.
James nods, though his curiosity doesn’t fade. He steals another glance at Regulus, who is now sipping his wine with a cool detachment that James knows is at least partially an act. And for the first time in a long time, James wonders if there’s more to Regulus Black than he’s ever bothered to notice.