1975 (5th Year) The week before the Yule Ball
The corridors of Hogwarts in 1975 were filled with whispers and stolen glances, secrets kept in the dim glow of candlelight, and the weight of unspoken emotions pressing against the hearts of students teetering between youth and adulthood.
Barty Crouch Jr., a brilliant Ravenclaw with sharp wit and an even sharper tongue, found himself in an impossible situation. He had harbored a crush on Regulus Black since third year, but the young Slytherin's heart didn't belonged to him. The tragic irony of it all was almost amusing—Evan, for all his quiet intensity, was in love with Barty. It was an endless cycle of longing and unfulfilled affections, one that Pandora Rosier, ever the mischievous observer, foresaw in her visions. Instead of warning her friends, she chose to watch the drama unfold, sipping her tea with knowing amusement.
Severus Prince Snape, with his protective nature, had taken Regulus under his wing, forming a brotherly bond with him. There was something about Regulus that reminded Severus of his godson from another life, a shadow of Draco Malfoy flickering in his subconscious. He guided Regulus through the treacherous waters of Slytherin politics, teaching him how to navigate ambition with intelligence and dignity.
But Regulus had his own sanctuary—his music. It was during one of his quiet escapes to the music room that both Lily Evans and James Potter separately stumbled upon him. Each encounter was different, yet both left him equally flustered. Lily was warm, intrigued by the gentle melodies he composed, while James was surprisingly thoughtful, drawn to the depth hidden beneath Regulus’ reserved exterior. Regulus found their presence irritating, mostly because their curiosity interrupted his most private moments, yet he couldn’t deny the warmth their company brought.
Lily, meanwhile, was experiencing a shift in her feelings. James had matured, his usual arrogance giving way to a genuine sense of responsibility. He still teased and charmed, but there was a depth to him now that hadn’t been there before. She found herself drawn to him, and, much to her own amusement, to Regulus as well. She flirted with Regulus just to see him blush, delighting in his awkward reactions. She liked him—just a little—but she didn't knew where her heart was truly leading her.
James, for the first time, found himself stepping back from his relentless pursuit of Lily. It wasn’t just her growing reciprocation that made him hesitate—it was Regulus. There was something about the younger Black brother that intrigued him in a way he hadn’t expected. The sarcasm, the reluctant kindness, the way his quiet presence spoke louder than words. It left James bewildered, torn between his lifelong devotion to Lily and this newfound curiosity.
Regulus, ever the observer, saw Lily warming up to James and felt a pang of bittersweet acceptance. He had admired them both from afar, but he was never meant to have either of them. He watched their dance unfold with quiet resignation, knowing that he would never stand between them.
Meanwhile, Sirius and James cemented their bond as best friends after a wild night of sneaking through the castle, evading Filch and McGonagall, and collapsing into laughter in the Room of Requirement. It was a brotherhood forged in mischief and mutual understanding.
Severus, with his hidden phoenix abilities, used his gifts to visit Petunia in secret. He would appear in the dead of night, not as the bitter, sneering boy Hogwarts knew him to be, but as a friend and companion who simply wanted to spend time with the one person who knew him of his past.
Regulus, ever calculating, had a dilemma of his own—he wanted to learn how to kiss. And there was only one person he trusted to teach him without complications. Remus Lupin.
Remus panicked at the request. He had started to develop feelings for Sirius, and the idea of kissing Regulus, even platonically, made his heart race. But Regulus was logical—Severus was like a brother, James and Lily were obviously meant for each other, Pandora would want to discuss emotions, Barty’s crush on him made it unfair, and Evan—well, Evan was a lost cause. Most of the girls he knew were either too intimidating or would expect more than he could offer.
Reluctantly, Remus agreed. Their kisses were careful, exploratory, and, as Regulus had predicted, enjoyable but devoid of deeper feelings. They laughed about it afterward, forming a quiet bond over the experience. It was one more secret added to the collection of Hogwarts' many whispered tales.
Sirius, however, was living in denial. He had loved Remus since their first year, since the moment he had learned his secret and vowed to protect him. But now, after becoming inseparable from James, he realized his feelings were different from friendship had only grown deeper. He refused to risk their friendship, so he threw himself into distraction.
He dated freely—boys and girls alike. His reputation as a heartbreaker grew, but beneath the carefully curated persona was a boy who longed for something real. He had an arrangement with a select group of girls—Marlene, Mary, Emmeline, Pandora, Dorcas, Alice, Amelia, Amy, Hestia, Bertha, Emma, and Olivia. They were his designated "girlfriends," turning to him after breakups or simply to ward off unwanted male attention. Sirius played the part well, never denying or confirming rumors, protecting them in his own reckless way.
To the world, he was the charming rogue who changed partners like the seasons. To himself, he was a boy trying to resist the one temptation that mattered—Remus Lupin.
James, meanwhile, found himself stepping into a new role. He was more serious, focused on his future, and unexpectedly protective of the younger years, whom he found unbearably adorable. His new maturity only made Lily fall harder for him.
Lily became the pursuer in their dynamic with Regulus, enjoying the challenge of breaking through Regulus self composure. At the same time, she found herself reveling in the quiet moments she shared with Regulus, chasing after his guarded company and enjoying the way he tolerated her presence, even if he pretended otherwise.
Regulus, caught in the whirlwind of attention, played the role of matchmaker, subtly guiding James and Lily together. It was inevitable, after all. He had made peace with his place on the sidelines.
And then there was Remus, who, apart from his little experiment with Regulus, stayed as far away from Hogwarts' dating scene as possible. His heart was already spoken for, even if the person he loved was too busy running from his own feelings to notice.
Hogwarts in 1975 was alive with tension, longing, and the tangled mess of friendships and romance. Some hearts would break, some bonds would deepen, and some paths would take unexpected turns. But for now, they danced around each other, caught in the delicate chaos of youth and magic.
At first, Evan Rosier wasn’t particularly kind. He was sharp-edged, quick-tempered, and often cruel to those who didn’t matter. But Barty Crouch Jr. did matter. Not that he realized it at first. Not that Barty himself realized it either.
Their relationship started as an unspoken alliance—two boys on the same path, walking side by side but never acknowledging the pull that tethered them together. Evan had his reckless charm, his bravado, his undeniable strength. Barty had his feverish ambition, his desperate need to prove himself, his restless energy. They clashed, they fought, they mocked each other, but somewhere beneath all of it, something real was taking root.
Evan’s devotion was quiet in the beginning. A sharp look at anyone who dared to slight Barty. A casual flick of his wand to hex someone who tried to embarrass him. A lazy smirk in Barty’s direction when he saw him getting too caught up in his own head, as if to say, Relax, I’ve got you.
But Barty didn’t trust easily. He had spent too long being overlooked by the one person he had once craved approval from the most. So, when Evan stood by him—not out of duty, not out of necessity, but simply because he wanted to—Barty didn’t know what to do with that loyalty. He tested it, pushing Evan away, snapping at him, waiting for the moment he would abandon him like everyone else had. But Evan never did.
One of the first moments that truly broke down Barty’s defenses was when he confided, almost offhandedly, about his admiration for Regulus Black. He expected teasing, maybe irritation—jealousy, even. But Evan just shrugged.
“Yeah, I get it,” he said, voice devoid of malice. “He’s impressive, hot, smart, a little vulnerable side that he doesn't show to everyone, What's not to like?.”
Barty hesitated. “It doesn’t bother you?”
Evan rolled his eyes. “What, that you’ve got good taste?” He scoffed. “You think I need to own every part of you to want you? That’s pathetic. I like the Barty that has a crush on Regulus, and I like the side of you who doesn't know who to feel about me.”
Barty didn’t say anything, but something inside him shifted. He understands me.
It was little things, after that. The way Evan’s hands—capable of cruelty, of destruction—became gentle when they brushed against Barty’s. The way he never pried, never forced Barty to be something he wasn’t ready to be. The way he saw Barty, all of him, the flaws, the fire, the sharp angles of his personality, and instead of trying to smooth them down, he embraced them.
And Barty fell. Slowly, then all at once.
By the time he realized the depth of it, Evan had already made himself indispensable. He was there, steady and unwavering, sharp-edged and battle-worn, but soft for Barty in a way he was for no one else. And that, more than anything, was what made Barty love him.
Because Evan Rosier may have been a storm to the rest of the world, but to Barty, he was a safe harbor.
After they started dating, it was like a flame—all-consuming. Their love was felt even when they were just crossing looks, complete in symphony and perfect complements. They burned brightly, fiercely, as if the world around them didn’t matter. Together, they were unstoppable, two halves of the same fire, feeding each other’s passion and intensity with every shared glance, every touch, every whispered word.
Barty and Evan had always been a force of nature, two perfectly synchronized storms who, when left unchecked, could unravel the delicate social balance of their entire friend group. Secure in their relationship, untouchable in their loyalty to each other, they saw the world as their personal game board—every piece a potential player in their grand design.
It started small. Evan, with his effortless charm and biting wit, turned his attention to James Potter. James, ever the golden boy, never questioned why Evan would lean in a little too close when they spoke, or why his hand would linger a moment longer than necessary. But Regulus noticed. Regulus, who had spent so long carefully pretending not to care about James Potter, could suddenly think of nothing else.
Barty, ever the perfect storm of reckless ambition and sharp-edged teasing, played the same game—only his target was Regulus. He draped himself over Regulus in public, whispered conspiratorial nothings in his ear, shot glances at James just long enough to be caught. The plan was to push James into action, to force him into the pursuit. The problem was, Barty was starting to like the game too much.
Evan knew. Evan always knew. And he didn’t mind.
Then came the real fire. Barty turned his attention to Remus, all casual touches and murmured compliments, just enough to make Sirius bristle, his jaw clenching as he watched from across the room. And when Barty had Sirius wound tight, Evan would step in, flashing a smirk as he brushed a hand over Regulus’ shoulder—casual, dismissive, and devastatingly effective. Because Lily saw. And oh, Lily saw everything.
It was chaos, delicious and reckless. Everywhere they went, the air was thick with tension, unspoken jealousy, unaddressed feelings bubbling dangerously close to the surface. James was getting more flustered around Regulus, trying and failing to hide his interest. Regulus was torn between playing into Evan’s game and chasing James himself. Sirius was all but vibrating with frustration, and Remus, perceptive and patient, was waiting for him to snap. Lily, sharp as ever, was caught between calling them all out and seeing how far Evan would take it.
One evening in the Gryffindor common room, James found himself in an all-too-familiar predicament. Evan had perched himself lazily on the arm of James’ chair, fingers tracing mindless patterns over his sleeve.
“You’re awfully tense, Potter,” Evan murmured, his lips quirking into a smirk. “Thinking about something?”
James blinked rapidly, his ears turning a telltale shade of pink. “W-what? No! Just—uh—Quidditch, you know.”
Across the room, Regulus had stilled mid-sentence, his sharp gaze flickering between them, grip tightening around his book.
Barty, watching the whole thing unfold, stifled a laugh and turned his attention to Regulus. “You alright there, Reggie? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Regulus snapped his book shut. “I’m fine.” Too fast. Too clipped.
Meanwhile, Sirius was on his own downward spiral as Barty casually slung an arm around Remus’ shoulders, leaning in as if sharing a private joke. Remus chuckled, but there was a flicker of amusement in his eyes—he knew exactly what Barty was doing.
Sirius did not. His fists clenched.
And then, as if the universe decided things weren’t messy enough, Evan turned his attention to Regulus again, reaching out to adjust the collar of his robe. “Lily, don’t you think Regulus looks quite dashing tonight?”
Lily, who had been watching Evan with hawk-like precision, narrowed her eyes. “Evan Rosier, if you don’t stop whatever game you’re playing, I swear—”
“Oh, come now,” Evan grinned, finally pulling back. “I’m just appreciating our dear Regulus.”
Regulus, who had spent the entire exchange looking like he might either combust or hex Evan on the spot, chose neither—he merely stood up, threw James a sharp look, and left the room.
And James? Still utterly oblivious, still pink-eared and confused, turned to Evan and asked, “Wait… did I miss something?”
For Barty and Evan, it was all amusement, a grand experiment in pushing buttons and watching what happened next. But games like these never stayed games for long.
And when it all inevitably exploded, well… that was just part of the fun.
Hogwarts, in the week leading up to the Yule Ball, was a battlefield disguised as a school. The halls pulsed with barely contained chaos—whispered alliances, secret bets, and the kind of emotional warfare that only teenagers in formalwear could wage. It wasn’t just about getting a date; it was about winning.
For James, the entire ordeal had been a nightmare wrapped in silk and lace. Every attempt to secure a date was met with an obstacle, and not always by accident. Evan and Barty had been weaving a web of distractions and deceit, ensuring that James couldn’t get close to Lily without some sort of interference. A well-timed rumor here, a conveniently misplaced prank note there—just enough chaos to keep the playing field uneven. Meanwhile, Pandora had her own agenda, feeding misinformation with a sugar-sweet smile. "Oh, you were going to ask Reggie or Lily?"
James stood there, caught in the whirlwind of swirling gossip and unanswered questions. His eyes flicked nervously from Pandora’s overly sweet smile to the hallway around him, trying to make sense of everything. The pieces of the puzzle didn’t seem to fit, and it was like his mind was moving too fast and too slow all at once.
"Wait... what?" His voice cracked, betraying the nerves bubbling under the surface. He cleared his throat and tried again, but his words were stilted, unsure. "You—you’re sure? About Reggie and Lily?" His heart sank at the thought, the flicker of hope he'd been holding onto quickly slipping away.
Pandora’s innocent expression only deepened his confusion. She was playing a game, and James wasn’t sure if he was the target or just an unwilling participant.
"I—I don’t know, Pandora. This doesn’t make sense," he muttered, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I mean, Lily’s been avoiding me, and… and Reggie’s always eluding me theses days, but—" He paused, swallowing hard, the weight of his conflicting thoughts nearly crushing him. "Is this some kind of joke? Or... is this really happening?"
His mind raced in every direction, the sense of not knowing whether he was supposed to fight harder for Lily’s attention or back off completely pulling him in two. He knew he wasn’t supposed to trust everything Pandora said she was as playful as cruel as her brother Evan sometimes, but… What if she was right? What if it was too late?
James exhaled sharply, giving Pandora a look that was equal parts frustration and helplessness. "So, what am I supposed to do now?" His voice barely held steady as he finally asked the question that had been haunting him for days.
Sirius sat in the corner of the Ravenclaw common room, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the armrest of his chair. The room was buzzing with excitement as students eagerly prepared for the upcoming Yule Ball. He could feel the weight of it all pressing down on him, the subtle tension growing in his chest with every passing minute.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help—Merlin, he’d never been one to shy away from playing the matchmaker. But this... this was different. Every time someone approached him with a hopeful request to help them get closer to Remus, Sirius found his heart tightening in a way he wasn’t ready to face. Every casual inquiry, every polite suggestion that he help someone get Remus to notice them, sent a ripple of discomfort through him. He couldn't do it. Not this time.
"Thanks, but no thanks," he said quietly, shaking his head when a third-year girl asked if he could help her impress Remus for the ball. "Moony's not interested," he added, his voice betraying a hint of something darker, something raw. "I don’t think he’s even planning on going."
The girl blinked, clearly surprised, but Sirius barely noticed her reaction as his mind wandered again. Remus had already made it clear he wasn’t interested in attending the ball, and Sirius had accepted that, even if the thought of someone else taking Mooney’s attention felt like a cruel twist of the knife. It wasn’t that Remus had ever given him any sign that things could be more—Sirius wasn’t blind—but still, the idea of anyone else even getting close to Remus in that way made his stomach churn.
He had tried to push the feelings down, to convince himself that it was better this way—that he could keep things just as they were. But seeing other people vying for Remus’ attention... it didn’t make it easier.
The thought of Remus dancing with someone else, laughing with someone else—Sirius didn’t know if he could bear it. So he did what he did best: he avoided it. He'd quietly shut down anyone who came near him with the suggestion, the polite refusal that wasn’t quite a lie but wasn’t the whole truth either.
"I’m sorry," he murmured under his breath, as another couple of students looked his way, hoping he’d help with their “plans” for Remus. The words burned in his throat, but he couldn’t bring himself to say anything more.
Because, deep down, Sirius knew he didn’t just want to protect Remus from a broken heart... he wanted to protect his own.
Remus leaned against the doorframe, watching the scene unfold before him with a knowing smile. Sirius was, as usual, fending off yet another well-meaning student with an expertly executed polite refusal, his usual charm tinged with something else—something Remus was all too familiar with. Sirius had a tendency to deny things, to avoid dealing with feelings that didn’t fit the world he wanted to live in, and this whole "Yule Ball situation" was a perfect example.
Remus chuckled softly to himself, shaking his head. He wasn’t even sure why Sirius was still pretending. Everyone in their circle knew the score, and yet, there Sirius was, turning down anyone who asked about Remus with that same mix of frustration and denial. And Remus? Well, he was more than content to let the game play out.
He had stopped accepting proposals for the ball weeks ago, his decision already made. But he wasn’t rejecting anyone asking about Sirius—oh no, that would have been too easy. Instead, he was directing them to Sirius himself, letting the confusion, the frustration, the anticipation build up as the days passed. If he could just get Sirius to see what everyone else already knew, maybe something would finally click.
It wasn’t that Remus was oblivious to the dynamic between them. No, he was fully aware of the way things had always been between him and Sirius. The shared glances, the unspoken moments, the way their friendship teetered on the edge of something more. But Remus had always been patient—he’d waited years for Sirius to figure it out. After all, Sirius wasn’t exactly one to rush into things. Still, Remus couldn’t help but feel a little amused at the whole situation.
"You know," Remus said one evening, leaning casually against the wall as Sirius fended off yet another hopeful admirer, "you're really not fooling anyone, you know."
Sirius, mid-rejection, shot him a confused glance, eyebrows furrowing in that trademark Sirius way. "What are you on about now, Mooney?"
Remus smirked, pushing himself off the wall and strolling over. "I mean, if you keep turning people down like this, it’s obvious you’re just avoiding the inevitable."
Sirius looked flustered for a moment, then sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "What inevitable? Moony, I’m just trying to—"
"Not deal with it?" Remus finished for him, his tone teasing but warm. "It’s okay, Sirius. Everyone can see it. You’ve been avoiding everyone who wants to ask you to the ball, and they all know why. The question is: when are you going to stop pretending?"
Sirius opened his mouth to protest, but Remus held up a hand. "I’m not asking you to do anything, Padfoot. But if you think I haven’t noticed you turning down every girl in sight because you’re terrified someone else might ask me, you’re wrong. And if you think I haven’t noticed you’ve been waiting to see who you’ll ‘take’ to the ball... well, you’re really bad at hiding it."
Sirius was silent for a long moment, the color rising in his cheeks. He opened his mouth again, but this time, no words came. Remus could see the battle behind his eyes—the familiar mix of hesitation and reluctance. He wasn’t sure what Sirius was waiting for, but he couldn’t keep doing this dance forever.
"Just... think about it, yeah?" Remus said softly, his voice gentle. "You don’t have to do anything. But don’t pretend you don’t know what this is."
Sirius glanced at him, a mixture of frustration and something else—something softer—flashing in his eyes. Then, with a heavy sigh, he gave in, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Alright, alright. I get it. Stop being so clever, Mooney."
Remus smiled knowingly, watching Sirius retreat to his spot by the window. He knew that Sirius wasn’t going to figure it out overnight, but at least now there was a little less pretending—and maybe that was enough for now. The rest would come, eventually.
Lily paced her dorm room, the rhythm of her steps echoing in the quiet of the evening. She couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort—unsettling confusion swirling inside her.
It was everything that had happened in the last week, all the unspoken moments that seemed to be leading her to a place she wasn’t sure she was ready to go.
It had all started so innocently. She’d been alone with Regulus in the library, a rare moment of calm between the chaos of her schoolwork and the tension of her growing feelings. They’d been talking, the usual small talk that always seemed to flow so easily between them, when suddenly, his teasing smile had taken on a new, more flirtatious edge. Lily hadn’t been prepared for how it made her feel—how every glance, every word, seemed to draw her in further.
And then it had happened.
One simple touch—her hand brushing his arm as they both reached for the same book—had caused his breath to hitch. The flustered look in his eyes had made something inside her flutter, and before she could stop herself, she found herself asking him, without thinking, if he wanted to go to the Yule Ball with her. Her words had rushed out before she could second-guess them, and before he could even form an answer, she’d pulled back, the moment slipping through her fingers as quickly as it had arrived.
But the damage had been done. She hadn’t expected to feel so... alive in his presence, or to be so affected by the simplest of gestures. It had all felt like some strange dance—complicated, electrifying, and utterly out of her control.
Then, as if to add fuel to the fire, James had appeared. He’d found her not long after, practically bursting with that same energy she had been trying to avoid for weeks, asking her to the ball with that earnest, slightly nervous grin that made her heart twist. She’d stood there, frozen, unsure of what to say. What could she say?
"Would you go with me, Lily?" he had asked, his voice hopeful, his eyes bright with expectation.
She hadn’t rejected him. She couldn’t. Her heart had wanted to scream “yes,” but she didn’t trust herself enough to voice it. Instead, she had nodded, the word “yes” forming silently on her lips, though she wasn’t sure if he’d even noticed the hesitation that lingered between them.
Now, here she was, tangled in a mess of her own making, uncertain of how to untangle it all. She couldn’t keep avoiding both James and Regulus forever. They were persistent, and as much as she tried to deny it, part of her knew she couldn’t just keep evading the inevitable. Eventually, the question would be asked—again—and she’d have to choose.
But what if she didn’t want to choose?
What if she didn’t know what she wanted at all?
The silence in her room felt heavier, more suffocating by the minute. She wanted to go to the ball with someone who made her feel something—anything—but who? Regulus, with his cool, mysterious charm and the way he’d made her feel like she was walking on air just moments before? Or James, who had always been there, who had always made her laugh, who somehow knew her better than anyone else? Both were so different, yet both had their own pull on her.
Lily sank onto her bed, her hands rubbing her temples in frustration. How had everything gotten so complicated? Why couldn’t she just know what she wanted? The ball was in a matter of days, and she could feel the pressure building, not from anyone else—but from herself. She couldn’t keep dancing around this forever. Sooner or later, she would have to face both of them, and when that moment came, she wasn’t sure if she was ready.
She sighed deeply, staring out the window at the darkening sky, wondering what on earth she was going to do.
James stood frozen in the middle of the common room, his eyes burning with anger as he watched Peter—his best mate, his friend—standing nervously in front of Regulus Black, asking him to the Yule Ball. The words, "Will you go with me?" seemed to hang in the air, and even though James had never been the type to let small things get to him, this felt like a punch to the gut.
He felt betrayed. That was the only word that kept echoing in his head. Betrayed. But why? Why the hell did it sting so much? It wasn’t like Regulus was his—he wasn’t some possession James had a claim on, and he’d never even considered that Regulus might be someone he could approach in that way. No, it wasn’t that. It was the fact that Regulus had rejected Peter with a quiet, kind smile, the sort of smile that made James feel like he was watching something far too intimate, far too personal for anyone else to witness. He hated the way Regulus was so... gentle with Peter.
"Sorry, Pete," Regulus had said softly, giving him a half-smile. "I’m already going with someone."
It wasn’t harsh, wasn’t dismissive. It wasn’t like how James had been rejected in the past. It was kind. Too kind. It hurt, and James couldn’t understand why. He was furious, but the anger wasn’t aimed at Regulus—it was aimed at himself, at Peter, at the situation he couldn’t control.
Since when had Peter had a thing for Regulus? James’s mind raced. He had never seen it. Never noticed the way Peter might’ve looked at him—Regulus, that is. How had he missed that? How had he missed it when it was right in front of him?
And then the wave of confusion hit. Just hours earlier, he had asked Lily to the ball. She’d nodded, and she’d said yes. He had been thrilled, practically glowing with excitement, because he’d thought, finally, something was going right. Finally, he was getting a chance with Lily. But all that joy and lightness had vanished the second he’d seen Peter asking Regulus to the ball.
The anger swelled again, this time more directed at Peter, because it felt like a betrayal—his best mate going after someone who had already felt like his. And it wasn’t fair, he knew it wasn’t fair, but the emotion was raw and primal, and it took everything in him not to shout.
“Why the hell does it bother me so much?” James muttered under his breath, pacing back and forth, his heart hammering in his chest.
He felt like an egoistic bastard for even thinking that Regulus was somehow “his,” but it was there, lodged deep inside him. The possessiveness, the jealousy that he could barely suppress. Regulus wasn’t his—James had no claim on him. But somehow, in that moment, he felt like he had every right to be angry.
James slammed his fist into the side of the couch, the impact rattling the air. He didn’t know what to think anymore. Was he angry because Peter liked Regulus? Or was he angry because he, James, couldn’t even handle the thought of someone else taking that place in his mind?
He ran a hand through his hair, stopping his pacing. He wanted to scream, but he didn’t know who to scream at. Himself? Peter? Regulus? Lily?
“Dammit,” he cursed, exhaling shakily. He had just spent hours feeling like the happiest bloke alive, asking Lily to the ball, imagining what it might be like to finally have a night with her. And now that happiness had been snatched away by this—by Peter and Regulus and something James couldn’t quite explain.
He stood still for a moment, staring at nothing in particular, trying to calm his racing thoughts. What was this feeling? Was he being a selfish prick? Probably. But it didn’t change the fact that it hurt to see Regulus go to the ball with anyone else. Even though James didn’t have any right to feel that way, it didn’t stop the bitterness from pooling in his chest.
For a brief second, James wondered if there was something deeper there—a feeling he had buried so deep it had taken him this long to realize it. But the thought was too much to process, too complicated. So, instead, he gritted his teeth, trying to push everything aside. He couldn’t let it bother him. He had Lily. He was going with Lily.
Still, the image of Peter and Regulus lingered in his mind, gnawing at him, as he struggled to make sense of what had just shattered his moment of happiness. He wasn’t ready to face the truth, but he couldn’t deny the fact anymore.
Regulus was making him question everything.
James’s mind raced, spinning in a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. Regulus had said he was going with someone—someone. The words echoed in his head, each repetition making his heart beat faster, pounding with the need for answers. Who? Who the hell was he going with?
At first, James had tried to dismiss it, telling himself it was just a polite rejection, nothing more. But as the seconds ticked by, the idea of Regulus going to the ball with someone gnawed at him, refusing to let go. His brain conjured image after image, each more torturous than the last. Was it a girl? Was it someone Regulus could charm with his smooth words and easy smile? Or was it a boy? Was it someone who could pull Regulus’s attention away, someone who could be as playful and coy as Regulus had always been with him?
The thoughts kept spiraling, and James felt like he was losing control. He couldn’t—he couldn’t—let it go. He had to know.
It wasn’t just the fact that Regulus had rejected Peter, but that quiet, mysterious smile he'd given him, that cryptic line about already having a date. It was so... calm. Too calm for someone who should have been completely indifferent to the situation. And that thought drove James mad. Why hadn’t Regulus just been straight with Peter? Why had he avoided telling him who it was, or why had he said it in such a soft, almost affectionate way?
His eyes narrowed as he stood up abruptly from his seat in the Gryffindor common room. He had to find him. Had to know who this mysterious date was. He couldn’t sit with this uncertainty hanging over him.
Regulus wasn’t in the common room, and James barely gave a second thought to the idea of looking in the usual places—he went straight to the library, then the courtyard, then the empty corridors. His footsteps echoed in the silence, a drumbeat that matched the growing panic in his chest. Each time he turned a corner, he hoped—prayed—he’d see Regulus, just so he could confront him. Get some damn answers.
Meanwhile, Regulus was indeed on a mission of his own.
He’d spent most of the afternoon grappling with his own feelings about the ball, about Lily’s request, about everything in general. After their brief, awkward exchange, he’d felt torn, unsure of how to respond to Lily’s unspoken invitation. He had said he was already going with someone—but the truth was, he hadn’t actually agreed to Lily when she asked. Regulus wasn’t stupid—he knew what it meant when Lily had smiled at him like that, when she’d touched his arm so casually, yet so meaningfully. She had been asking, in her own way. He hadn’t rejected her, not outright, but neither had he accepted.
Regulus wasn’t ready to deal with that, either. Not when the second person he wanted to go with was standing just a few steps away in his mind. James. But that, of course, was another mess entirely.
So, in an effort to avoid everything weighing on him, he decided to go to Lily and clarify the situation. If she was serious about the ball, she deserved an answer—regardless of what was going on in his head with James and everything else.
e had just turned a corner when he spotted James’s familiar silhouette down the hall, his posture tense, his steps hurried, as if searching for something. For a moment, Regulus considered retreating, but then he stopped himself. He didn’t want to avoid James—not this time. Not when the question that had been hanging between them, unspoken, was just as pressing as everything else.
"James," Regulus called out, his voice smooth and even. "What’s all this hurry about?"
James spun around, his expression filled with something between determination and frustration. Regulus could see the storm brewing behind his eyes, and something twisted inside him.
"Regulus," James snapped, his voice sharper than he’d intended, though he couldn't help the edge in it. "You said you were going with someone... Who? Who are you going with to the ball?"
Regulus blinked, the question catching him off guard. He tilted his head slightly, studying James's face. The tension radiating off of him was almost palpable, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out that James was more affected by the question than he was letting on. A small, almost amused smirk tugged at the corners of Regulus's lips.
"Why?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are you planning to ask me yourself?"
James’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before he regained his composure. “No, I just—I need to know.”
Regulus held his gaze for a long moment, an almost unreadable expression on his face. He’d seen James in various moods before, but this was different—there was something raw in the way he was looking at him, something that seemed to shift between uncertainty and possessiveness.
"I said I’m going with someone," Regulus replied, his voice cool and calm. "And no, I’m not going to tell you who. It’s none of your business."
James’s frustration flared, and he took a step closer, his hands balling into fists. “Why do you have to be so damn cryptic, Regulus? Just tell me, for once.”
Regulus met his gaze, unflinching. "If it matters so much to you, I guess I’ll have to disappoint you. But it's not you, James."
The words hit like a slap, and James froze, a strange mixture of relief and confusion flooding through him. He had expected... something. But this? This was more than he had been prepared for.
Before James could respond, Regulus turned on his heel, his voice drifting back to him.
"I'm sure you’ll find out soon enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk to someone else about my plans."
And with that, Regulus was gone, leaving James standing in the hallway, his mind racing, the unanswered question hanging heavily in the air.
Regulus wasn’t going with anyone... or at least, not yet. But that didn't stop James’s brain from conjuring images of all the possibilities—and none of them seemed to sit well with him.
Lily stood frozen in the shadows, her heart pounding in her chest as she watched the interaction unfold between James and Regulus. She hadn’t meant to overhear—hadn’t meant to witness their conversation at all—but the tension between them was undeniable, and it left her with more questions than answers.
James, who had always been confident, who had always been so sure of himself, was visibly rattled, his frustration obvious as he confronted Regulus about who he was going to the Yule Ball with. Lily’s brow furrowed. Why was he asking him that? James had already asked her to the ball. So why did it matter who Regulus was going with? She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this than met the eye.
What had James been expecting? Regulus’s rejection was polite, but there was something in the way he handled it, the way he didn’t seem the least bit fazed by the question. And there was that smirk—that smirk—which only made Lily’s stomach do an involuntary flip.
The way Regulus had looked at James, the almost playful gleam in his eyes, had been… different. She’d never seen that side of him before. He was cool, confident, like he was playing a game James couldn’t quite follow, and there was a sharp, provocative edge to his every word. He’d spoken to James like they were equals—challenging him, taunting him just enough to unsettle him, but not so much that he’d back down. It was almost as though Regulus had been enjoying watching James squirm, the electricity in the air between them so thick it was nearly tangible.
What the hell was going on?
Lily’s mind was in a whirlwind as she replayed the scene. Regulus had looked so damn... masculine, so sure of himself, so confident. It wasn’t just the way he’d held his ground; it was the sheer magnetism he exuded. The way he’d stood there, his gaze locked on James with that subtle, almost teasing glint—Lily had felt it too, that charge between them. She couldn’t deny it. There was something undeniably powerful in the way Regulus had carried himself, something magnetic in the way he’d turned the tables on James without even trying.
But then, her gaze drifted back to James. He looked like he was about to explode. The way his expression had shifted when Regulus said it wasn’t him—the way his whole body had gone rigid, his fists clenched at his sides—it was so raw. So angry. Lily had never seen him like that. He was always so full of energy, so in control, but now... now there was a darkness to him, a possessiveness she hadn’t known existed.
The question burned in her mind: Did James know what had happened between her and Regulus?
She felt a pang of guilt twist in her stomach. Had she unintentionally sparked whatever this was between James and Regulus? Regulus had been so sweet to her in that moment, making her feel like she was the only one in the room, and then there was that fleeting moment of connection—of flirtation—that made her do something she hadn’t planned on. She had asked him to the ball. She had. But it was so much more complicated than just a simple request. She hadn’t expected to feel so drawn to him. She hadn’t expected him to make her feel alive in a way she hadn’t known she needed.
But now, standing there, watching James’s outburst and seeing Regulus’s effortless confidence, she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
Did James know what had happened? Did he know that she’d flirted with Regulus, that she’d touched him, and that it had left her feeling... something? He hadn’t seemed to know, at least not from the way he was reacting. But his anger, his frustration—it didn’t feel like it was just about the ball. It was more than that.
Lily shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. She hadn’t meant for any of this to happen. She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone—especially not James. She liked him, didn’t she? Didn’t she? She was supposed to be going to the ball with him, after all. But the way Regulus had looked at her, the way he’d made her feel so... seen, was something she couldn’t easily forget. And she wasn’t sure she wanted to.
Feeling like she was drowning in her own confusion, Lily took a deep breath, forcing herself to move. She needed to talk to Regulus. She needed to apologize for putting him in an awkward situation, but more than that, she needed to understand what was really going on between them all—before it was too late to fix anything.
As she made her way through the halls, her steps quickening as she sought out Regulus, she couldn’t shake the feeling that nothing was going to be the same after tonight. Whatever had been left unsaid between her, James, and Regulus—it was only going to get more complicated from here on out.
Lily stood in the dimly lit corridor, her heart thudding in her chest. She had been looking for Regulus for what felt like ages, and now that she had found him, she didn’t know where to begin. The words seemed to stick in her throat, tangled and twisted, as the guilt gnawed at her. She hadn’t expected any of this, hadn’t expected the way her feelings had become so complicated in such a short amount of time. And now, here she was, trying to find the right way to undo the mess she had created.
Regulus, however, had already seen the look in her eyes before she even spoke. He could see the uncertainty and the guilt she was wearing like a cloak, could feel the weight of what she was about to say hanging in the air between them.
Lily opened her mouth to speak, to explain, but the words never came. She wasn’t sure what she was even trying to say anymore. I’m sorry I asked you to the ball? I’ve changed my mind? I already said yes to James? All of it felt like it would make the situation worse. She felt the pressure of it building, like a storm on the horizon.
Regulus watched her for a long moment, his gaze softening as he sighed quietly, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice gentle, more understanding than she had expected. “I know what you want to say.”
Lily blinked, surprised by how calmly he was taking this. She had imagined he would be upset, or perhaps even angry, but instead, he looked... resigned? Almost peaceful in a way.
“Regulus…” she began, but he raised a hand, stopping her words before they could start to form into something more complicated.
“I knew,” he said simply, his lips curling into a small, bittersweet smile. "You and James... You've been circling each other for a while now. It was bound to happen."
The words cut through Lily, and she felt a pang of guilt twist inside her chest. She hadn’t realized how much Regulus had noticed—how much he’d been paying attention to her and James, how much he’d understood. The way he spoke was so calm, but there was a quiet sadness in his eyes.
Without another word, Regulus stepped forward, taking her hand in his. His touch was cool, but the way he held it was soft and reassuring, almost like he was trying to convey something that didn’t need to be said.
Then, before Lily could react, Regulus pressed a gentle kiss to her hand. His lips were warm against her skin, and for a split second, Lily forgot about the chaos inside her. He was being so kind—so gracious in the face of her confusion. She could feel his sadness, but there was no bitterness, no anger in him. It was just... understanding.
“Lily,” he murmured softly, his voice full of quiet sincerity. “I’m happy for you. If it’s James you want to go with, then I’m happy for you.”
She could barely get a word out in response before Regulus gave her a small, comforting hug, pulling her close for a brief moment. His arms were strong around her, and it felt... like he was offering her something that she hadn’t known she needed: peace. The weight of the whole situation, of all the unspoken things between them, lifted just a little.
When he pulled back, he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. The gesture was almost tender, so unexpected in its simplicity, that Lily found her throat tightening. She hadn’t expected this from him. She hadn’t expected him to be so understanding, so willing to let her go with a smile, even if it hurt.
Before she could say anything, before she could process how she felt about the whole exchange, Regulus straightened up.
“Congratulations, Lily,” he said quietly, his voice calm and steady, before turning to walk away. “Enjoy the ball with him.”
Lily stood there, frozen for a moment, watching him leave. His figure retreated down the hall, his movements fluid and graceful, until he was gone from her sight. She didn’t know how to feel. She didn’t know what to do with the rush of emotions filling her all at once—relief, guilt, admiration, and something else she wasn’t ready to name.
But one thing was certain: Regulus’s parting words had done something unexpected to her. They had made her question her own feelings, had made her realize that maybe—just maybe—she wasn’t as certain about everything as she thought she was.
As she stood alone in the corridor, the weight of the situation began to sink in. She didn’t know how she was going to navigate everything with James. She didn’t know if she had made the right choice, but at least, for now, she knew that Regulus had set her free.
James had been watching everything unfold from the shadows, his heart in a tight knot as he clutched his invisibility cloak around him. He had been following Regulus for hours, checking the Marauder’s Map obsessively, trying to track him down, but what he had witnessed now—what he had overheard—left him feeling like the ground had shifted beneath him.
Regulus had kissed Lily’s hand. Kissed her hand. And it wasn’t just some flippant gesture. It was soft, intentional, almost intimate in the way he’d done it. Regulus had been so… understanding about the whole thing, so calm when she’d clearly been struggling with her own feelings. And that final gesture—the hug, the kiss on the forehead—James could barely process what it meant. Regulus had been so... gracious, like he had been okay with it all, even though Lily had asked him to the ball and was now going with James. It didn't make sense. Was Regulus really going with Lily?
His stomach churned, thoughts tumbling over each other in a storm of confusion and anger. What the hell was going on? He had been so sure—so certain—that he was the one Lily wanted to go with. She had said yes to him. She’d agreed. He had watched the relief and the joy in her eyes when he’d asked her to the ball. So why the hell was she even talking to Regulus?
And why the hell was Regulus so damn charming? He seemed so at ease with the situation, like he was completely in control. James had never seen that side of him before—the calm, confident, almost knowing way Regulus had acted toward Lily. It was unnerving, but what really gnawed at him was the sinking feeling in his chest, the tightness around his heart that told him everything he needed to know.
They liked each other. Regulus and Lily. There was no doubt about it. The chemistry was obvious, the way they had looked at each other, the way they had felt each other’s presence in the same space—it was undeniable.
James didn’t know what to do with himself. His anger, the wild jealousy he had anticipated, wasn’t there. He wasn’t seething with rage at the thought of Regulus taking Lily to the ball, or her with anyone else. Instead, all he felt was a deep, aching sense of being... left out.
They liked each other. But they didn’t like him. Not in the same way. And the realization hit him like a wave, knocking all the air from his lungs.
or a moment, James felt paralyzed. Regulus was going with Lily? Why had she said yes to me, then? His thoughts were scattered, confusion and disbelief swirling around in his mind. Since when had Lily and Regulus been that close? Since when had they been seeing each other?
But it wasn’t just the idea of Lily going with Regulus that made James’ stomach churn. No, it was something else—the way he’d felt when he saw them together. It wasn’t the overpowering, fiery jealousy he expected. It wasn’t the furious anger he had anticipated, imagining Regulus and Lily together. No, it was... sadness. A deep, hollow feeling that made his chest ache.
Regulus wasn’t just a rival. Regulus wasn’t even the problem.
It was the way Regulus had looked at him earlier, when he had stood there, unfazed, looking at James with a calm, knowing expression that made something twist in James. Was that how Regulus saw him?
It wasn’t just the way Regulus had looked at Lily—it was the way he’d looked at him, too. That calm, almost mocking glance. It had been so cool, so effortless. Regulus didn’t seem to care about James. He didn’t seem to be bothered by him, or maybe he just didn’t take him seriously. James was so used to being the center of attention, to having everyone around him notice him, but Regulus—Regulus had no need for that.
And it made James realize something he hadn’t wanted to admit before. It wasn’t just Lily who made his heart race. No, it was Regulus too. The way Regulus had carried himself, the way he made James feel like he was in competition for something that wasn’t even his—that had left him rattled in a way he couldn’t explain. It had been that moment, that small second, when Regulus had looked at him with that glint in his eyes, like they were both players in a game James didn’t even understand, that made him wonder if maybe he wasn’t the one in control anymore.
No, James thought, a bitter taste in his mouth. I shouldn’t feel this way. I shouldn’t care.
But he did. He couldn’t help it. The more he thought about it, the more it ate at him, gnawing at his confidence and leaving him with a sinking feeling that he didn’t know how to handle. What was this thing he felt when it came to Regulus? It wasn’t the rivalry he had assumed. It wasn’t just some petty hatred or jealousy over Lily. There was something deeper, something more unsettling about it.
He couldn’t put it into words, but it was the way Regulus never seemed to back down, how every interaction felt like a subtle challenge, like Regulus was inviting him to keep up, to prove himself worthy of something. It made James feel exposed in a way he wasn’t used to—like Regulus had stripped him of his bravado, leaving only raw vulnerability behind.
But then, as he watched Regulus walk away from Lily with that bittersweet smile, James felt something even more unsettling—left out. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t furious. He wasn’t even truly jealous. He was just... excluded.
Was that it?Had he just been fooling himself this whole time? He had thought that the more he pursued Lily, the more she’d eventually come around, that his effort and persistence would win her over. But now, seeing Regulus with her, seeing the way she had been with him, it all seemed so obvious. James felt like the third wheel in his own life, like a piece of a puzzle that didn’t quite fit.
It wasn’t jealousy that gnawed at him—it was sadness. The bitter sting of realizing that the connection between them, the one he’d been so certain was growing stronger, was just one-sided. The idea that Lily could look at someone else, someone like Regulus, with that kind of tenderness and interest... it shook him to his core.
He had thought she was his, that their awkward, flirtatious banter and late-night conversations meant something. But now, as he stood there, hidden in the cloak, watching them—watching Lily smile at Regulus the way she had never smiled at him—he was struck with the cold, hard truth: she had choices. She wasn’t just waiting around for James Potter to come sweep her off her feet. She was living her life, feeling things, with or without him.
The confusion and anger that had built up inside him made way for something softer, something heavier. Regulus had been right. He had been so calm, so sure. He had let Lily go with a smile, understanding what she needed. And James? James felt like he was still holding on to something that wasn’t his to keep.
It was like the world had kept turning while he was stuck in place, watching as Lily and Regulus moved forward without him. And the worst part? He didn’t know how to make it stop. He didn’t know how to make sense of the feeling that had crept in. He had been so sure of Lily’s feelings for him, so confident that the ball, that night, would be theirs. But now, it all felt like some distant dream. Regulus had taken his place without even trying, and for once, James didn’t know how to compete.
That was when the weight hit him—he wasn’t just competing for Lily’s attention anymore. He was competing with Regulus for something much more personal, much deeper. And he had no idea if he was even ready for that kind of fight.
James stood there, hidden in the shadows, the silence of the empty corridor swallowing him whole. He didn’t know what to think or how to feel. But one thing was clear: everything had changed, and he didn’t know how to find his place in it anymore.
Had Regulus known all along?
For the first time in ages, James was left with the feeling of being alone, even though he wasn’t. The Marauders were still there, still his closest friends, but none of that comforted him now. Regulus wasn’t his enemy, and neither was Lily. But this... this situation? It was an impossible triangle that had no easy solution.
All James knew was that something had changed. He had thought he was playing the game, had thought he had all the moves figured out. But Regulus and Lily? They weren’t playing by the same rules. And that left James in the cold.
He let out a long breath, the weight of it sinking deep into his chest, and with one final, reluctant glance at the empty corridor, James turned to leave. He had no idea what he was going to do next. He had no idea how to fix this, or if it even could be fixed. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t the star of the show anymore. And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he ever had been.
Regulus had always been observant. He wasn’t an idiot, and while James had thought he was hiding in the shadows, tracking the situation from behind his cloak, Regulus knew he was there all along. He had known from the moment he’d stepped into the corridor with Lily, that sense of being watched weighing heavily on him. But the thing was, he didn’t mind. It had been a strange, almost surreal moment between him and Lily, but now that it was over, the rest of the world—James included—was waiting for something to happen.
And Regulus couldn’t deny it, there was a certain satisfaction in knowing that Lily and James had finally gotten their act together. It had taken time, and a lot of back and forth, but now it was clear. They were going to the ball together. They were going to date. Regulus couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief, a quiet contentment, knowing that the two of them would have their moment. They’d figure it out, he was sure of it.
But, if he was being honest, there was a part of him that still wished he had had a moment like that with James. He didn’t know what he had hoped for, really. Maybe he had wished for something more than just a passing smile, more than just a flicker of understanding across James’s face as they stood in that hall. But Regulus had come to terms with it. He knew better than to believe in something that might never come to fruition. He had accepted that James wasn’t his. He had accepted that Lily and James were what the world would always expect.
And that was fine. It was fine, because deep down, Regulus knew he wasn’t the one who they needed. It was enough to watch them both from the sidelines, to see them finally catch up to what was obvious all along. Lily had her crush, and James had his—and maybe it had taken a long time for them to realize it, but they were there now.
But as Regulus walked away from Lily, a strange, bittersweet smile playing on his lips, he couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, James had gotten the message. At least, Regulus hoped so. The playful little game of teasing and subtle interactions between them might have seemed like just that—a game—but it was more than that to Regulus. He couldn’t help but think there had been something unspoken between them, something James had never fully acknowledged, but Regulus had always known was there. There had always been this thing between them, and even if it wasn’t something that would ever fully come to pass, there was still a connection. Maybe that was the most he could hope for.
In the days that followed, Regulus busied himself with his usual routine, but there was something different now. The Yule Ball was drawing closer, and his heart felt lighter, despite the underlying pang of wistfulness. It was strange—he was composing again. Not just for himself, but for them. For Lily and James.
He sat at the piano late into the night, his fingers lightly brushing over the keys, a melody beginning to form in his mind. The song came to him in fragments, broken notes that seemed to make sense in his head but felt a little too personal to be fully expressed. This wasn’t just any song. It was a piece for them. For Lily, and for James, for the way they had circled each other for so long, for the way they had finally found their rhythm.
Regulus worked on the song for days, each note falling into place like it was meant to be. It was quiet and wistful, a melody that seemed to breathe with the weight of unspoken feelings. Regulus couldn’t help but add his own feelings into the piece—his own bittersweet notes, the ones that tugged at his heart, the ones that made him realize he’d never truly given up on the idea of what might have been. But that was okay. It was all part of letting go. Letting them go. Letting James and Lily have their moment, even if it wasn’t his.
Finally, when the song was ready, Regulus placed his fingers on the keys one last time. He played the melody in its entirety, letting the sound fill the room with a quiet, aching beauty. And then, with a deep, almost imperceptible sigh, he allowed himself to let it go, as if releasing the music meant releasing the last of the feelings he’d been carrying around.
It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. He wasn’t writing it for anyone’s approval, certainly not for James or Lily’s. It was his way of accepting what had passed between them, what could never be. It was a gift to them, even if they’d never know it. Regulus smiled faintly to himself as he stood, his fingers lingering on the keys just a moment longer. He was content with that.
And as he walked out of the room, the soft notes of the song still echoing in his mind, he knew that he would be fine. The song was his final gesture to them—to his two idiot crushes who would never know how much he cared. They would dance together at the ball, and Regulus? He would watch from the side, playing his part in the story he would never get to fully be a part of.
But that was okay. It was enough.
