It was strange, really, how some things began without warning, without intention, and yet managed to take root all the same.
It hadn’t started with a grand gesture or a clear moment of confession.
In fact, it had barely started at all, slipping quietly into existence like a secret whispered between the stars.
James Potter and Regulus Black had never been close. They’d spent years as strangers, living on opposite ends of the social and moral spectrum—James loud and carefree, Regulus quiet and restrained, bound by expectations neither had chosen.
And yet, somewhere between stolen glances across the Great Hall and chance encounters in dimly lit corridors, something had shifted.
They hadn’t talked about what this was, hadn’t given it a name or laid down any rules.
It was fragile, undefined, like a constellation half-formed in the night sky. But somehow, despite everything, it was enough to keep drawing them together.
The Astronomy Tower wasn’t the kind of place most students frequented willingly at this hour. For one, the climb was steep—an endless spiral of cold stone steps that seemed to stretch on forever, leaving behind the faint hum of the castle below. And for another, it was risky.
Filch loved to prowl the upper corridors late at night, his cat Mrs. Norris always lurking in the shadows, ready to catch anyone foolish enough to be out past curfew.
But for James Potter, risks were part of the fun. More importantly, risks were worth it when it came to Regulus Black.
The tower’s platform opened into the night, vast and boundless, as if the stars themselves had gathered to bear witness.
James set down the blanket he had sneaked up here earlier in the day, his hands brushing over its soft surface as he smoothed it out. A battered telescope lay nearby, alongside a notebook full of scribbles and clumsy sketches.
The cool autumn air bit at his skin, but he barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere—on the boy he was waiting for and how this night might go.
James had spent the entire day convincing himself this wasn’t a big deal. After all, it wasn’t their first time alone together.
They’d had stolen moments before, quiet meetings in the library where James would make some dumb joke just to see Regulus roll his eyes, or rare walks around the Black Lake when the sun dipped low, turning the water to liquid gold.
But this was different.
This wasn’t some accidental moment born from a shared glance or an excuse to “bump into each other.”
James had planned this—had asked Regulus outright to meet him. And Regulus had said yes.
The sound of footsteps broke James’s thoughts. He turned quickly, his grin widening as Regulus appeared at the top of the stairs.
“You’re late,” James teased, though his voice carried more warmth than reprimand.
Regulus stepped into the moonlight, his movements as poised and deliberate as always.
His dark hair was slightly tousled, as if he’d been running his fingers through it, but his robes were immaculate, every button and crease perfectly in place. He paused to glance around the tower, his sharp gray eyes scanning the setup James had arranged.
“I almost didn’t come,” Regulus said finally, his voice quiet but steady.
James’s grin didn’t falter. “But you did.”
Regulus sighed, as though already regretting his decision, but he walked forward anyway, his steps slow and deliberate.
When he reached the edge of the blanket, he hesitated again, his eyes flickering between James and the telescope.
“What’s all this?” he asked, a faint edge of curiosity slipping into his otherwise guarded tone.
James shrugged, his grin turning playful. “Just thought we could spend some time together. You know, under the stars. Romantic, isn’t it?”
Regulus raised an eyebrow, his expression skeptical. “Romantic?”
“Well, yeah,” James said, plopping down onto the blanket with his usual lack of grace. “You’re my boyfriend, aren’t you? Thought I’d try to impress you.”
Regulus blinked, caught off guard by the casual use of the word boyfriend. He had never been good at putting labels on things, had never said the word aloud himself. But hearing James say it—so effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world—made his chest tighten.
He didn’t respond right away. Instead, he lowered himself onto the blanket, his movements precise and deliberate, as though sitting next to James was some kind of delicate negotiation.
James leaned back on his elbows, his hazel eyes glinting with amusement as he watched Regulus settle himself. “Relax, Reg. You look like you’re bracing for a duel.”
Regulus shot him a look, though it lacked its usual sharpness. “It’s not every day you drag me out of bed and up a freezing tower past curfew.”
James laughed, the sound rich and unrestrained. “Hey, it’s not just any tower. It’s the Astronomy Tower. The best view in all of Hogwarts. You can’t tell me it’s not worth it.”
Regulus didn’t reply immediately. His gaze drifted upward, to the vast expanse of stars above them. For a moment, his expression softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as the night sky enveloped him.
“It is a good view,” he admitted quietly.
James turned to look at him, his grin softening. “See? I knew you’d come around.”
Regulus glanced at him, his gray eyes sharp as ever. “Don’t get used to it.”
James laughed again, the sound warm and familiar.
He reached for the telescope, fumbling with the adjustments as he angled it toward the sky. “All right,” he said, his tone playful. “Let me prove to you that I know my constellations.”
Regulus tilted his head slightly, his expression skeptical but curious. “This should be good.”
James squinted into the telescope, his brow furrowing as he adjusted the focus. “That one’s definitely… uh… the Big Snake,” he said, pointing vaguely upward.
Regulus sighed, his lips twitching with faint amusement. “It’s Serpens, Potter.
“Isn’t that exactly what I said?”
“You’re hopeless.”
James turned his head toward Regulus, his grin widening. “Hopeless? Ouch, Reg, that’s harsh. Here I am, trying to be romantic, and you’re just tearing me apart.”
Regulus’s lips twitched again, though he tried to hide the faint smile threatening to form. “If I wanted to tear you apart, Potter, I’d do more than correct your ridiculous attempt at astronomy.”
James chuckled, the sound warm and familiar in the cool night air. “Oh, I know. You’re deadly with that sharp tongue of yours. But,” he added, leaning closer, “I don’t mind. You keep me on my toes.”
Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t pull away. Instead, he shifted slightly, leaning just enough to peer into the telescope James had abandoned.
His fingers brushed against the cold metal as he adjusted the angle with practiced precision. James watched him, his hazel eyes softening as he took in the subtle movements—the furrow of Regulus’s brow, the slight tilt of his head as he focused.
“You look good like this,” James said softly, almost to himself.
Regulus froze, his hand hovering over the telescope.
He didn’t turn to look at James, but his posture stiffened, and James could see the faintest hint of color creeping up his neck.
“Like what?” Regulus asked, his voice quieter now.
“Like… you,” James said, shrugging as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Relaxed. In your element. You always seem so… heavy, like you’re carrying the whole world on your shoulders. But right now, it’s just you and the stars.”
Regulus’s breath hitched, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond.
No one had ever spoken to him like that before—like they truly saw him, not as a Black, not as the heir to some ancient family legacy, but as himself.
He straightened, his fingers tightening slightly on the telescope. “You’re ridiculous,” he said finally, though his voice lacked its usual sharpness.
“And yet, you like me anyway,” James replied with a grin, leaning back on his elbows.
Regulus didn’t deny it. Instead, he adjusted the telescope one last time before stepping back and gesturing toward it. “There. Have a look. If you can manage to recognize even one constellation, I might consider forgiving you for dragging me up here.”
James sat up, grinning. “Oh, I see how it is. A challenge. Fine, Black, prepare to be impressed.”
He leaned over the telescope, peering into the eyepiece with exaggerated focus.
Regulus crossed his arms, watching him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
“So?” Regulus prompted after a moment.
James straightened, his grin widening. “Orion,” he declared, pointing upward with a flourish. “The hunter. And that,” he added, turning the telescope slightly, “is… um… one of his dogs, I think?”
“Canis Major,” Regulus supplied, unable to stop himself.
James snapped his fingers. “Exactly! Canis Major. See? I told you I’m not completely hopeless.”
Regulus shook his head, though there was a faint smile on his lips now. “You’re insufferable.”
“And yet, here you are,” James said, his voice softer now.
Regulus’s gaze flickered to him, and for a moment, the mask he always wore seemed to slip. He looked at James—not with exasperation or irritation, but with something quieter, something unguarded.
“Why do you do this?” Regulus asked suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Do what?”
“This,” Regulus said, gesturing vaguely to the telescope, the blanket, the stars above them. “You go out of your way to do… these ridiculous things. For me.”
James’s grin softened into something more serious. “Because you’re worth it.”
Regulus froze, the words catching him off guard. James didn’t look away, his hazel eyes steady and sincere.
“You’re worth all of it, Reg,” James continued, his voice gentle. “The risks, the sneaking around, the late nights. Every single moment with you is worth it.”
Regulus’s chest tightened, the weight of James’s words settling over him like a warm blanket. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to process the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.
James reached out, his hand brushing against Regulus’s. The touch was light, tentative, but it lingered, and Regulus didn’t pull away. Instead, he let his fingers curl around James’s, his grip hesitant but firm.
“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus said again, though there was no heat in his voice.
“Ridiculously obsessed with you,” James replied, his grin returning.
Regulus rolled his eyes, but the faint flush on his cheeks betrayed him. He turned his gaze back to the stars, his fingers still entwined with James’s.
For the first time in what felt like forever, he allowed himself to relax, to simply exist in this moment.
The stars above seemed to shimmer brighter, their light spilling over the two boys like a quiet blessing. And for the first time in years, Regulus Black felt as though he wasn’t just a Black, or an heir, or a pawn in someone else’s game.
He was just a boy under the stars, holding the hand of someone who had dared to chase him through the darkness.
THE END