Not Inevitable

James feels bad for Regulus. He really does. His mother stole his memories, the happy ones specifically.

Regulus had fallen asleep still sitting up against the stone wall and his head fell onto James’s shoulder. James took that as a good sign. A sign that, somewhere, deep down, Regulus still trusts him, still feels safe with him, even if the younger boy can’t remember why.

It also definitely explains Regulus’s behavior towards him this past term.

So he feels bad. He would do anything to help Regulus put the pieces of himself back together. But James isn’t sure he can take one more minute of his occlumency lecture.

They have been at it for hours. Regulus left the bedroom upstairs before the sun rose, before anyone else was even close to awake to go prepare for the lesson. He hadn’t even said anything when he woke up leaning on James, just got up and walked away.

When James walked downstairs, one of the previously unlabeled doors along the wall now had a plaque that read “classroom”. They have been inside for at least five hours. It’s hard to tell exactly, there’s no clock.

James has tried to pay attention, for Regulus’s sake as well as his own– they can’t win a war with occlumency if they can’t even learn how to do it– but five hours later and he can’t take it anymore. Based on the energy in the room, neither can anyone else.

Pandora saves the day.

James quite likes Pandora. She has a weird energy that he can’t quite name, but it’s a good kind of weird. She also seems to be the only person truly capable of reigning Barty in and is apparently the only one brave enough to interrupt Regulus, despite not being one of the five Gryffindors in the room.

“Regulus,” she says, raising her hand and everything. “Do you think maybe we’d be better off practicing now? There’s only so much theory we can absorb at once.”

Regulus glares in response. James shrinks back into his seat, resigned to his fate of further instruction.

Pandora does not do the same.

“Or at least let us take a break. Barty said he had to pee an hour ago.”

Regulus doesn’t reply, but he rolls his eyes and sets the book he was reading from down on the desk. The slytherins all take this response as an affirmative answer to Pandora’s request. Barty does indeed leave the room to go to the bathroom. Most of the others file out as well, before Regulus changes his mind, leaving just James, Pandora, and the Black brothers in the classroom.

James stays to see if Regulus wants to talk about anything or ask him any questions. Sirius probably stays for similar reasons, though James doesn’t look up to meet his eyes.

They haven’t talked since last night. And James knows better than anyone that Sirius explodes and lashes out when he’s angry so he’s not going to do anything until Sirius has enough time to cool off.

Neither of them get the chance to talk to Regulus.

“Out,” Pandora orders. James and Sirius both move to say something, but Pandora simply points towards the door. They exit the room and Pandora quickly closes the door behind them, staying with Regulus on the other side.

Sirius heads straight for Remus, who appears to be putting together a late lunch for everyone in the kitchen. James follows a few steps behind, but heads for the nearby table where Lily and Peter are already seated.

Peter has his head in his hands at the surface of the table, groaning loudly while Lily laughs. As James sits down, Peter picks his head up.

“Is he always this intensely boring?” he asks, looking at James. “He can’t be, right? There’s no way you would date someone this boring.” Peter’s head falls back to the table. James watches Sirius’s shoulders tense in the kitchen, followed by Remus’s hand falling on top. Lily gives him a sympathetic smile. James wisely decides that Peter’s question is rhetorical and doesn’t answer it.

But if he were to answer it, he would tell Peter he was right. Regulus isn’t boring. In fact, Regulus Black is the most interesting person James has ever met. Unfortunately, the Black Heir is quite boring. How Regulus manages to hide so thoroughly behind that mask, James has never understood, but the mask is the one teaching in the classroom, not Regulus. Because Regulus has taught James so many things, without ever being boring.

“How much do you know about muggle science?” Regulus had asked him at the end of March, lying on their bed in their room of requirement. The room that was just for them, filled with books and art and a fireplace that always let off a warm glow.

He was looking up at the night sky painted on the ceiling with his hands clasped over the end of his green Slytherin tie. James was on his side, leaning on one arm looking at the younger boy. A few strands of his black curls were tangled in his eyelashes.

“Pretty much nothing,” James says truthfully. “Tell me about it?” he asks. He would listen to Regulus talk for hours, especially about the things he finds fascinating.

“There’s a lot to tell, Jamie,” the boy replies with a small laugh. “So much more than I even understand. It’s kind of amazing. They know so much more about the world than we do, simply because they don’t have magic. Without magic being a potential answer to all their questions, they had to look even deeper. I think their science is their magic in some ways.”

James reaches out his free hand to untangle the strands of hair from the other boy’s eyelashes. Regulus doesn’t even flinch, simply moves his storm gray eyes from the ceiling to James’s face. James smiles and Regulus smiles back, so quickly it was almost more of a reflex than a conscious decision.

James goes to move his hand back down to his side, but Regulus reaches over and twines his own fingers in between James’s instead.

“Tell me one thing, then,” James says.

Regulus brings his gaze back to the ceiling, but keeps James’s hand in his own.

“Did you know that everything is actually mostly nothing?” Regulus asks.

James did not know that. James doesn’t even think that makes any sense. But he doesn’t say so, leaving the space for Regulus to fill with his explanation.

“Everything is made of atoms. You, me, the bed, the books, the earth, the stars– everything. Particles so small, we can’t even see them. These particles make up everything, but 99% of each particle is just empty space, nothingness.”

“So I probably shouldn’t tell you that I think I love you with every fiber of my being, then?” James whispers.

Regulus freezes. He even goes so far as to hold his breath.

“It would probably be more accurate to say that I think I love you with all the space in between. Right? If I’m trying to communicate that I love you a lot. Which I am, by the way.”

James hadn’t ever told the younger boy that. He can hear that it sounds a little crazy. They’d only been dating for a couple months after all. But James was never one to hold onto his feelings, he always lets them out into the world once he has the right words. And Regulus had just explained the right words.

After a quick lunch of good old fashioned peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, made awkward by James and both the Black brothers avoiding talking to each other, they move back into the classroom.

This time the desks are arranged in pairs facing each other, rather than all of them facing the blackboard.

Sirius and Remus are first through the door, and move to take a pair of desks to the far right but they never reach the seats.

“No,” Pandora announces from behind them. “Sorry boys, but we’re doing this with assigned partners. Sirius, you’re with Regulus. Remus, you’re with me. Peter with Dorcas, Lily with Evan, and James with Barty. No, this is not open for discussion. Take your seats.”

It takes a minute for everyone to shuffle around to their desks.

“This way,” Pandora explains, “we all might be a little more motivated to keep our minds private than if we were practicing with our friends.”

James can admit that that is probably a smart idea. But he doesn’t like it. He doesn’t have anything against Barty, but he’s a little… abrasive? He seems to thrive in chaos and James doesn’t want him to create chaos using his memories as ammunition.

Luckily, they don’t even attempt any mind games for the next hour. Instead, they focus on mental organization. The idea is that by organizing all your thoughts and memories, by knowing your own mind inside and out, you can more easily close off certain parts and eventually just close off your whole mind to intruders.

Regulus says he pictures his mind as a library. Each of his memories is a book that he can place on a shelf and the library doors are things he can close and barricade to keep people out. Or at least that’s his goal.

Sirius uses a different metaphor. He pictures his mind as a sword because a sword does the cutting, it doesn’t get cut. He forges everything into the metal of the blade and can move the blade away from anyone attacking his mind or use it to strike back.

James hasn’t settled on a metaphor yet, but he can see why Sirius and Regulus use the ones they do.

Regulus is meticulous. He doesn’t do anything without a plan. That’s not to say that he isn’t sometimes impulsive or doesn’t lash out, but even when he is, he thinks at least three steps ahead of his current action. He can just think really fast when he needs to. James could never keep up.

Sirius on the other hand acts first and thinks later. It makes sense that he doesn’t break down his memories into moments with specific beginnings, middles, and ends. He doesn’t think narratively or linearly. Everything that makes him Sirius– memories, actions, decisions– is all everything. He doesn’t break himself into pieces the same way Regulus does. Those pieces are probably what let Regulus wear such a convincing mask. But Sirius is always whole, always entirely Sirius. So it makes sense that his mind is a single object. And it also makes sense that it’s an object to be wielded as a weapon.

James doesn’t know how his mind works. And he doesn’t really have a good grasp on his own personality. Sometimes he plans– the elaborate Marauder pranks are testament to that– but sometimes he’s rash and doesn’t think things through. He knows he can be a little obsessive, case in point: deciding he would marry Lily Evans at eleven years old. Some of his classmates think he’s arrogant but his friends say he has the biggest heart. Regulus once told him he was the sun, though he clammed up and didn’t elaborate after the words slipped out so James doesn’t know what that may mean.

All in all, James is lost. In terms of occlumency specifically, yes, but also in terms of life. He doesn’t know who he is or where he’s going in life. He’s simply trying not to die in the war being waged around him before he gets the chance to figure it all out. What kind of metaphor represents that?

Over the course of the next week, he only gets more lost.

Every day, they practice. At first, they used a drop of veritaserum, since none of them were really able to do legilimency either. That way, they could still work on trying to protect their minds even without a real invasion. That didn’t keep it from feeling like it wasn’t an invasion. Luckily, everyone knew better than to ask him about Regulus, even Sirius. Though, for some of them it was probably a fear of Regulus’s reaction that kept their curiosity in check rather than any ethical dilemmas about James’s privacy.

After two days they moved on from the potion and started practicing legilimency as well. The rest of them watched as the Black brothers went head to head. Of course, it wasn’t very interesting to watch as there wasn’t anything to see. But afterwards, they swirled the memories of their mental battle into the pensieve for everyone to get a better idea of what was happening.

James found it to be very enlightening, though he still had yet to have any success with his own attempts. It wasn’t enlightening for him in terms of the logistics of occlumency or legilimency, but James was surprised by the brothers themselves. And as the person in the room who knows the most about both brothers, it was an unexpected turn of events for James.

For as long as James has known Sirius, he's been loud. He likes attention and he knows how to get it. Professors and students alike are constantly telling him to lower his voice. Beyond that, Sirius’s thoughts and feelings are always loud as well. It’s easy to tell when Sirius is in a good mood and when he isn’t. As much as he tries to be mysterious and unknowable, he is quite easy to read.

Regulus is the opposite. He is calculating and quiet. For the first three weeks of what would end up being a relationship, Regulus would meet him in the owerly early in the morning and talk to James without ever revealing anything about himself. Certainly not in words, but not in the things he didn’t say either or even in body language. He had such a strong grip on his mask and knew exactly how to wield it to stay hidden. Even when the younger boy did eventually open up to him and let him see behind the mask, it was a very intentional choice Regulus made to let James in. And after seeing behind the curtain, James still wasn’t always able to read his thoughts or emotions if Regulus didn’t speak them out loud.

So knowing all he does about both of the dark haired boys, it surprises James that Sirius is the one more inclined to occlumency and Regulus to legilimency. James would have thought Regulus’s mask would have given him the advantage with defense and Sirius’s assertiveness would lead him to the more offensive approach of legilimency. But instead, Regulus’s meticulousness makes for quite a sharp attack that Sirius’s act-first-think-second nature can quickly defend against.

Watching the brothers from the pensieve definitely seemed to help his classmates, but it didn’t do anything to help James. By the time Christmas Eve rolls around, James still hasn’t found an appropriate metaphor for his mind and it’s becoming more and more obvious he isn’t at the same level as the other nine students.

Regulus has his library and Sirius has his sword. Dorcas explained that she thought of a single book, with her life spread out on the pages with a cover she could slam shut against an invasion. Lily said she simply drew the curtains closed on the windows of her childhood bedroom, pressing her thoughts into the flower pattern on them. Pandora pictured a tapestry with each of her memories being one of the threads and Evan had a canvas with brushstrokes full of moments. Remus stored all of his memories in the torn walls of the shrieking shack and imagined the Whomping Willow protecting against unwanted visitors. Peter packed his mind into his school trunk and locked it. Barty took his Quidditch broom and shoved his whole life into the grain of the wood and took flight at the first sign of attack.

James still has nothing. He isn’t good enough to help his friends, Sirius still won’t talk to him, and his boyfriend doesn’t even remember him.

That night, as Christmas Eve turns into Christmas day, James beats Regulus to their spot on the floor by Regulus’s bed. Everytime they can’t sleep, which has so far been every night, they lean against the cold stone wall, deciding to be sleepless with company rather than alone.

When Regulus joins him, James doesn’t look over or speak, letting the other boy take control of the situation.

“Merry Christmas James,” the younger boy says softly after casting a silencing charm around them.

“Merry Christmas Reg,” James replies with a smile, though he doesn’t turn to face Regulus just yet.

They sit in silence for a while before Regulus asks, “Are you okay?”

“I thought we agreed not to ask each other that,” James chuckles, finally looking into the storm of Regulus’s eyes.

He can still see the fear and anxiety leftover from whatever nightmares woke the boy up swimming in those eyes. He wants to reach out and touch his face, try to smooth the worry lines being etched into his forehead. He wants to tell Regulus about all of the memories James now has to hold by himself for the both of them. Regulus has still not asked about any of those memories, so James stays quiet and keeps his hands to himself instead.

“Are you okay?” James asks rather than truly answering the question.

“Touche.”

They look away and sit in silence for another chunk of time before James breaks it.

“Why aren’t I good enough?”

Regulus whips his head around to look at James, who doesn’t meet his gaze. Regulus doesn’t immediately refute the statement like his other friends had been all week. James appreciates that. He knows that whatever Regulus’s answer is, it will be the truth. He may be a very good liar when he needs to protect the facade he hides behind, but he’s never dishonest with his friends.

“What do you mean?” is Regulus’s response

“How am I supposed to help you win a war if I can’t even win in a fight with my own mind? How am I supposed to keep us all from dying? How am I supposed to keep my future kid from being an orphan? How am I–”

“Maybe that’s why.” Regulus interrupts. “You’re thinking too big, you’re taking on too much. I didn’t mean to make you feel like the whole world was on your shoulders with this three-player chess match. It’s not all on you.”

“I know that. I know that the ten of us are in this together. I know that, I really do. I mean, I think we’re all becoming friends now, even me and Crouch. And we all decided to take this on together. But I’m not pulling my weight. I can’t be the reason we fail.”

“What would failing mean to you? What would it look like, in its simplest form?”

It’s an interesting question for Regulus to have asked, and not the one James expected. He takes a moment to think about it. Ever since that first night Regulus asked them all to meet up, all James has been trying to do is avoid Pandora’s vision coming true. There was so much suffering and death in that vision, for the ten of them, and their kids, and possibly the entire wizarding world. And James was one of the first to die. How was he supposed to keep it all from happening if he was dead? How was he supposed to keep his friends alive if he was the first one to die?

“Not being able to protect my friends,” James concludes, finally turning to meet the other boy’s eyes.

“Are we friends?” Regulus asks, staring very intently at James, though James can’t identify a specific emotion behind the intensity.

“Um…” James doesn’t know the answer to that. They were friends, for about two weeks, before they started heading towards being something more. James had loved Regulus. He loves all his friends, but he was in love with Regulus. And then they didn’t talk for six months, which James now realizes may not have had anything to do with him at all and was entirely to do with Regulus’s awful parents. But James can’t say any of that to Regulus, not when he still hasn’t asked for a single piece of information about their relationship, even a week after finding out about its existence.

“Yes?” James decides hesitantly. ‘Friends’ maybe isn’t a term specific enough to cover what they are, but it’s not too far off.

“So you want to protect me?” Regulus asks without a hint of his trademark sarcasm.

“Yes.”

“Okay. So protect me.”

“I don’t know how–”

“Remember when I told you that I don’t like you knowing things about me that I can’t remember telling you?” James nods. “Pick one of the secrets I told you, whatever one current-me would hate you knowing about the most, and hide it in your mind so I can’t find it. Whatever secret would hurt me most to know I told you. And then protect me from whatever that memory is when I try to find it.”

“Regulus, I don’t know if that’s a very good idea. I don’t want to hurt you, I hate that I know things you don’t want me to know, but I really don’t want you to hate me when you find out. And you will find out, if you look, because I don’t know how to keep you out.”

“Did you pick a secret?” Regulus pushes. Yes, I picked a fucking secret, James thinks, and you’re going to hate the both of us when you find out you told me it.

Regulus doesn’t wait for a response before whispering “Legilimens” and waltzing right into James’s mind.

Fuck.

James tries to visualize a door. A big, solid door made of dark wood, like the one to his father’s study. He tries to picture it, tries to slam it against the invasion, but the other boy just pushes through it, disintegrating it where his hand presses against it.

James tries to visualize curtains. Thick red curtains like the ones around his bed in Gryffindor tower. He grabs them and yanks them closed. But Regulus’s hands easily part them.

James tries to visualize his mother’s garden. He tries to push the memory into the rose bushes, out of sight of the younger boy in his head. But Regulus simply bends down and pulls the memory out from under the red flowers.

James can’t think. But he needs to think. Because Regulus is going to hate him when he sees that memory. Regulus is going to hate himself when he sees that memory. But James can’t think of any more places to hide or any more things to shut.

James and Regulus are in their room in April, just after Easter. Regulus is sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace with a small smile on his face and the book he was reading closed on his lap.

James, who had been searching the bookshelves aimlessly while Regulus spoke, asked “Can I kiss you?”

The smile on the other boy's face turns into a wince, then a frown.

“I hate that you have to ask me that.”

“I don’t,” James says genuinely. “I’ll ask you forever, even if the answer is always no.”

James goes back to the bookshelves for a few moments, before selecting one and taking a seat in the armchair across from Regulus. He only manages to read the first page before Regulus breaks the silence.

“I’m going to tell you something.”

James looks up from his book. Regulus has put his book down on the small table beside his chair and pulls his feet up onto the chair so he can rest his chin on his knees. He’s looking down at the floor.

“Yeah, of course. You can tell me anything, Reg.” James closes his book in his lab and leans forward.

“I’m going to tell you something, but I need you not to look at me when I do. And after I do, I need you to not react. I need you to completely change the subject and pretend I never told you anything at all, at least for today. Okay?”

“Reg–”

“Please Jamie?” Regulus pleads, eyes looking up from the floor into James’s. Regulus’s gray eyes look slightly glassy. There aren’t any unshed tears in them yet, but he wouldn’t be surprised if that is no longer true in a few minutes.

“Okay,” James answers, letting his eyes fall to the cover of the book in his lap, so he’s no longer looking at the boy he loves.

James can hear Regulus get up from his chair and watches his feet shuffle along the floor to stand in front of the bookcase, his back to James.

“I’m sure you know from Sirius that my parents are not good parents,” Regulus begins, “But they aren’t the only people in my life that have hurt me…”

No.

No. James can’t let this happen.

He doesn’t know exactly how he does it, but he turns it off. Not just that memory, but his whole mind.

Although, “off” isn’t quite the right word. Before the memory of Regulus could reveal the secret, the floor falls out from under the memory and the room collapses in on itself until it’s nothing, and then everything else follows suit.

Every memory James has, every thought, every moment gets pulled through the missing floor, into the darkness below like a black hole until all that’s left is Regulus’s consciousness and James’s own. And then with a shove and a burst of light behind his eyelids, Regulus is gone too.

Neither boy has moved from their seated positions against the stone wall, but both boys are breathing heavily now.

After catching his breath, Regulus gives James a small smile. “I knew you could do it,” he says.

James lets out a laugh, and then brings his hand to his temple as the action alerts him to the pain in his head. “Ouch. Don’t make me laugh right now, my head can’t take it.”

“Sorry.” The other boy doesn’t seem particularly apologetic. In fact he looks a little smug. “What’d you do? Turn off all the lights in your head?” he jokes.

“Nah,” James says, returning both the smile and the sarcasm, “I sucked everything into a black hole.”

Regulus laughs loudly and James lets out a small chuckle. “Hm. I never would have thought a black hole would be the right metaphor for you.”

You told me I was the sun once, James thinks. Is that why it’s weird?

Why did you tell me I was the sun? he wants to ask, knowing the other boy no longer has the answer.

“Yeah, but it works I guess,” he replies instead.

Regulus looks away from him. James watches as the playfulness dies behind the other boy’s eyes, bringing back his anxiety storm. He wants to know what he told me, James thinks, dejectedly.

“Offer is still open, you know,” James says. “If there’s ever anything you want to talk about, or anything you want to ask me, feel free.” James knows that’s the right thing to do. It’s Regulus’s life too, even if he doesn’t remember. And, really it’s only fair that he has access to all the information James does in regard to their relationship. But, for the first time, James hopes he doesn’t ask.

For the first time, Regulus does.

“What secret did I tell you?”

“If you really want to know, I’ll tell you. But think about it, okay? Really think about it. Because I want us to be friends and I don’t want to hurt you. And I think knowing will hurt you.”

Regulus doesn’t say anything, staring across the space at the trunk at the foot of James’s bed across from them. He remains quiet for a long time, but James knows what Regulus will decide.

“I want to know, James.” James meets the other boy’s eyes and he finds the determination he expected.

“Okay,” James says softly. “Anything for you, Reg.”

And then James closes his eyes. He pulls up the memory in his mind once again and finds the light he used to push Regulus out a few minutes before. Now that he knows where to look, it’s easy enough to find. It reminds him of the light produced by a patronus, though it’s more of a golden color than the blue-white. He wraps the memory in the rays of light and gently pushes it outwards, towards Regulus’s consciousness, which is also easy enough to find now that he knows what it feels like.

James can hear Regulus get up from his chair and watches his feet shuffle along the floor to stand in front of the bookcase, his back to James.

“I’m sure you know from Sirius that my parents are not good parents,” Regulus begins, “But they aren’t the only family that have hurt me. There are more Blacks than just my parents.”

“Andromeda is Sirius’s favorite cousin, but they didn’t get close until after she was disowned. She’s over a decade older than me, so I don’t really know her. Neither of us did, growing up. Bellatrix always liked Sirius better than me, at least back before the Black family madness set in. But Narcissa and I had each other.”

“When I was five, she taught me how to waltz by letting me stand on her toes as she danced around the room. After Sirius got sorted into Gryffindor, she was the only family I had left that I knew actually cared about me.”

“My first year, she offered to help me with my school work whenever I needed it. I never needed any help, but I would pretend to sometimes, just to have an excuse to sit and talk with her. She never seemed to care that she was a fifth year hanging out with a first year. With both of her sisters out of Hogwarts and Sirius already close to being disowned, I was the only family she had too.”

“But over the course of her sixth year, she got close to a boy. A good pureblood, first-born heir, that she was going to marry as soon as she was out of school. I still don’t know if she picked him to appease the family or if she actually loved him. At the very least, they had some genuine affection for each other, more than either of our parents did. So I was happy for her, that she got to be content, if not happy, and fulfill her duty to the family at the same time. Even back then, I knew  I would never be able to do both.”

“But then I met him, really met him, the summer between my second and third year. I was actually excited to meet him. I thought, if Cissa likes him then I would probably like him too. And then maybe our little family of two could grow to three.”

“He came over to the Black manor with his family to officialize the future marriage. He seemed alright at first. He smiled at Cissa like he really meant it and he paid attention to me more than anyone else had in years.”

“But after the papers were signed, he started to change. I recognize now that he didn’t actually change, he just stopped pretending to be something he wasn’t. Cissa held on to the childish fantasy that he could be the perfect person for her, both for the sake of her own happiness and her family, for a long time, though she clearly hates him now. Even without knowing exactly how terrible he is.”

“Towards the end of that summer, he started–” Regulus pauses and James fights the instinct to turn his gaze towards the black curls. He keeps his eyes firmly locked on the cover of his book.

“Towards the end of that summer, things started happening.  It happened slowly, then all at once. He always seemed to be around Grimmauld place, having meetings with my father and other supporters of the Dark Lord. But every time he was there, he’d find some excuse to come up to my bedroom.”

“And then when he started—”

“I realized what was happening and only a few seconds later, I realized that nobody would care. What was I going to do? Tell my parents? With my luck, they probably would have fucking encouraged him. And Sirius was never home, and on the rare occasion he was, he ignored me.”

“The only person who might have been on my side was Narcissa. But he’d already made sure that she couldn’t get out of the marriage and I didn’t want to be the person to ruin her life. I thought that if she never knew, if no one ever found out, if he could take it all out on me and leave her out if it– then she would have the chance to be happy.”

“I had never really liked people touching me– my parents beat that desire out of me long before that summer– but that’s when it got really bad. I basically starved myself in third year trying to avoid him as much as possible, not that that worked when he was a prefect and could go wherever he wanted whenever he wanted.”

“By the wedding the following summer, Cissa seemed to have guessed what he was really like, but was in denial about it. Which is fair enough, honestly. It was self-preservation, she was already tied to him with no hope of getting untangled. And then he was at Grimmauld even more, with the excuse that he would tutor me in the dark arts.”

“I hit a growth spurt before fourth year and I hoped that would be enough to end it. That he wouldn’t want me anymore or that I could fight him off. But he was still bigger and stronger and he wasn’t afraid to use spells to keep me exactly where he wanted me.”

Regulus lets out a dark laugh and James loses the battle he had been fighting to not look at the younger boy. He can’t see the cover of his book anymore anyways with the tears welling up in his eyes. Regulus is still standing in the same spot in front of the bookcases. His forehead is pressed up against a row of books and his hands are gripping one of the shelves to try and stop them from shaking.

“At this point, I don’t know if Cissa knows or not. She has yet to get pregnant. I have no doubt that they’ve tried, he’s too desperate for an heir not to. I like to think that she’s somehow sabotaging it, refusing to let him become a father. She has enough reason even without knowing about me.”

“Being with him has turned her into a completely different person. She’s a shell of who she used to be. And you know what’s crazy? I think I hate that more. Because, really, he’s just one of many people who have hurt me, but she was the last family I had. And he took her away from me. Now I don’t have anyone.”

Regulus takes a shaky breath, but doesn’t say anything more.

“You have me,” James says.

The two boys take a few more breaths each, before James switches the subject as Regulus requested.

“Did you know that American muggles have been to the moon?” James asks.

“I really don’t understand enough about their science to figure out how they got there, or how they kept on breathing while they were there, but they did. My dad sent me a book about it, you can borrow it sometime if you want…”

The memory fades out on James’s rambling, Regulus’s back still to him, but his grip loosens on the shelf.

James pulls back the rays of light from Regulus’s consciousness as the memory comes to a close.

Regulus is staring straight ahead, breathing shallowly. James looks down and sees a slight tremor in his hands, which the younger boy is pressing into the stone floor.

He looks away, knowing that Regulus would be more uncomfortable than he already is by having James watching him.

“I’ve never told anyone that,” Regulus says. He doesn’t seem to have enough air in his lungs to say anything more, but he opens his mouth to try.

“Breathe Regulus,” James insists gently.

Regulus ignores him. “Why would I tell you that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why would I tell you that?” Regulus demands again

“I don’t know Reg, I’m sorry. I didn’t get the chance to know you as well as I wanted to before… before we broke up.”

“So we broke up? Even before my mother got her hands all over my brain and ruined it?”

“I don’t know. We never said the words. But we were arguing before summer break and we never really resolved that.”

“What were we arguing about?” Regulus asks with a tilt of his head.

“Do you really want to know what went wrong between us before you even know all the things that went right?”

“Yes.”

“Why do you do that?” James demands. “Why do you only seek out the worst things?”

“Because eventually everything takes a turn for the worst. Good things never stay good, not in my life.”

“Just because things end doesn’t negate that they were good while they were happening. And why does everything have to be good or bad? Isn’t that what you’re mad at Dumbledore for? For making everything out to be light versus dark and good versus evil. Why does everything have to be one or the other? Why can’t things just be what they are?”

“What are we?”

“I don’t know!” James yells before burying his head in his hands

Regulus is not deterred. “What were we then?”

“We were just us,” James says softly. That’s as close to the truth as he can get. He loved Regulus. He still loves Regulus. And if James had to guess, he thinks Regulus loved him too.

“I’ll get them back,” James promises.

“What?” Regulus asks

“I’ll get them back. Your memories. I don’t know how yet, but I will. I promise.”

James can tell Regulus doesn’t believe him, but he doesn’t mind. He’s earned Regulus’s trust once before, he’ll do it again.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

James managed to get approximately two more hours of sleep after talking to Regulus before being awoken by a harsh shove, still before the sun had risen.

“Explain,” Sirius demands from the right side of James’s bed

“What?” James says groggily, hand reaching to his bedside table for his glasses

“Moony says I need to let you explain. So explain.”

James can tell the older Black is still pissed, but the only thing James can feel is relief. He and Sirius had almost never gone so long without speaking, only after The Incident at the end of last year. And as much as James would have appreciated getting a few more hours of sleep, he’s more grateful that the other boy has climbed into his bed.

God I missed you, James thinks as the two boys take up the spaces they always do when they talk things through: James lays on the left side of the bed with his head propped up by his pillow and he tosses the second pillow to Sirius, who leans it against the post at the foot of the right side of the bed before mirroring James’s position . Usually the things they talk about are prank ideas not how he betrayed his best friend, but James will take what he can get.

“What do you want to know?” James asks, inviting Sirius to interrogate him. Sirius does not disappoint.

“How did it start?”

“Apparently he was stalking us for a couple days after the winter holidays fifth year. He found me in the owlery to ask if you were okay. And it was the first time I really understood that he was living in that house too. So I told him he could talk to me, if he wanted to. He took me up on the offer.”

“He talked to you about Grimmauld?” Sirius asks, genuinely surprised.

“No,” James says with a small chuckle. “You two are similar like that. Neither of you actually gave me very many details. Later, once we were actually together, he told me a few things, but even then it was more like he gave me just enough hints for me to guess, rather than just tell me outright.”

“Once you were actually together? So you two were like, official or something?”

“Sirius, I was in love with him.”

At that, Sirius makes a series of noises that James thinks are supposed to sound like puking.

“Jesus, I don’t need all the gory details, Prongs.”

“Yes you do,” James says, rolling his eyes. “You’re not gonna like them, but I know you, and you need to know. You’re never going to get over this if you don’t get your questions answered. So go on, what’s your next question?”

Sirius sobered up after that.

“Do you still love him?”

“That’s more complicated. We started fighting more at the end of last term, and then we didn’t talk over the summer holidays, obviously. And then we came back this year and he avoided me completely. But I never stopped caring about him.”

“What were you guys fighting about?”

What is with the Black brothers and digging for the worst? James scares himself realizing if he ever comes face to face with any other members of the Black family he might end up in Azkaban. It would probably be worth it though.

“You, mostly. I wanted to tell you about us. Reg didn’t want me to. I understood why we were hiding from the rest of the school. I knew enough about your family to know that if they ever found out, he would be as good as dead. But I couldn’t understand why he didn’t want me to tell you. I hated keeping it a secret. There were so many times I slipped up and almost told you something, I mean, I tell you everything. I still don’t know exactly why he didn’t want you to know. But he trusted me. I might’ve been one of the only people he trusted, so I couldn’t break that. Can you understand that?” James pleads. “Or at least, try to?”

Sirius doesn’t answer. But he doesn’t immediately start yelling, so James takes it as a win.

“Did he make you happy?” Sirius asks quietly

“Yeah,” James replies, feeling a small smile appear on his lips. “Of course he did. I love him, of course he makes me happy.”

“Those things don’t always go together,” Sirius says darkly. “Sometimes the people you love most can hurt you the worst. Just ask Remus.”

“That may be true. But the people that love us most can also make us feel the best. Remus would confirm that too, I bet.”

“Before, when we all went around trauma dumping our secrets onto each other, you said that Moony and I were dating and we just didn’t know it– what did you mean by that?”

Shit. James knew he shouldn’t have said that, as soon as it came out of his mouth. It wasn’t his place to tell his friends how they feel about each other, even if it is painfully obvious to anyone who knows them.

“I was just making a joke— you two bicker like an old married couple. Pads, don’t worry. You can’t be dating each other without knowing it, that’s not how it works. All four of us are just a smidge codependent, if you haven’t noticed, that’s all.”

“What if it wasn’t a joke though?” Sirius whispers so quietly James almost can’t make out the words.

“Do you want it to be true?” James asks. Fucking finally, he adds, internally.

“What if I did?”

“If you did, I would tell you that you need to talk to Remus about it. And I would also tell you that I love you, both of you, no matter what.”

“Yeah, I love you too Prongs.”

And that’s all James needs in order to know that he’s forgiven. Sirius is surely going to continue pretending to be grossed out at the thought of his best friend being with his little brother and James definitely hasn’t heard the end of the lying-to-Sirius-for-months aspect of the situation. But at the end of everything, Sirius is still his best friend and James is his.

James springs off the mattress and tackles Sirius into a hug and they spend a few minutes wrestling and laughing. Then, Sirius puts his pillow back where it belongs and climbs under the covers.

After enough quiet that James had assumed the other boy fell asleep, Sirius nervously asks, “What’s he like?”

“Huh?” James asks, pulled from the edge of sleep by his voice.

“Reggie,” Sirius clarifies. “What’s he like?”

“He’s–” James starts, but doesn’t know how to finish the sentence. “He’s hard to get to know. For every one thing I managed to learn about him, ten more questions about him popped up in its place. He has an uncanny ability to mold himself into whatever the person across from him expects him to be. So, in a way, he’s everything. But that’s just a mask he hides behind to protect himself. Behind it, he’s… nothing that you can define, nothing you can quite put your finger on.”

“The only thing I know is that he’s your brother. He’s still your brother, or at least he wants to be. And I think you do too. If you want to know who he is, you should put in the time and effort to find out. And don’t shut him out when he tries to figure out who you are too.”