Bonding with the enemy
James doesn’t expect to find Regulus in his kitchen when his mom calls him downstairs at nine in the morning, yet there he is.
Thankfully, last night's events postponed the visit to the company.
Regulus is leaning against the counter, a cup of coffee in his hands. James’ parents stand with him, all of them impeccably dressed. Meanwhile, James is still in his pajamas, having barely woken up after staying up until four in the morning searching for Regulus.
Sirius told him what happened—and what really happened.
James had been on edge, fearing the worst, knowing Regulus would definitely be in trouble for the scene he made before and. But when he heard Regulus outside, across the street—oh, his heart dropped. In an instant, he was tripping out of bed, scrambling to the window.
Regulus had been crying and banging on the door, begging someone to let him in. Even in the darkness, James could see he was a mess. He had never seen Regulus like that before—not even when they were kids. Not ever.
So, he bolted down the stairs, straight to his father’s office, where both men had been waiting for news. Mr. Black barely needed a word; the second James uttered "Regulus," he was already moving.
Even after Regulus was safely home, James couldn’t settle down. His parents had relaxed, but he couldn’t shake the unease. He texted Sirius nonstop, even called him a few times. It took half an hour before he finally got an answer.
The fucker went to a party and came back claiming someone had fucking robbed him. My parents believed him.
James, still, doesn't know what to think about it.
He is mad, because, what the fuck? But also... wow.
He steps into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. “Good morning,” he greets, casually searching for a bottle of water. Then, without missing a beat, he turns his attention to Regulus. “How are you? Sirius told me what happened.”
He hopes Regulus catches the sharpness in his tone—cool, pointed, and unmistakably accusatory.
"I'm alright now, thank you," Regulus says, and James turns around, raising an eyebrow as he takes a sip of water.
Regulus looks immaculate, as always—his face perfectly composed, his curls falling effortlessly into place. "I was just telling your parents what happened," he continues, voice smooth.
"It must have been horrible, Reg," James' mom says sympathetically, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You should be resting, not here."
"Oh, no, I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway," Regulus shakes his head. "I'm still a bit paranoid." Even James’ father looks sorry, and James has to fight the urge to roll his eyes. He stays silent. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday, James," Regulus adds, his middle finger tapping idly against the rim of his cup. James finds it almost amusing.
"No need," James replies, and it's not a lie. He doesn’t care about being insulted by Regulus—it had actually made him laugh. "I told everyone that you and I joke like that sometimes, and Sirius said you’ve been stressed lately. You just had a breakdown. I get it."
But he doesn’t. Not really.
Because no matter how bad things got, Regulus Black would never have a breakdown like that.
Last night was an act. James figured it out from the start.
Regulus had pushed Sirius’ buttons just enough to escalate the situation, ensuring raised voices that would draw attention. Then, he vanished—knowing full well that James' parents would blame James, while his own would be too preoccupied with the realization that he hadn’t come home. Only to return at four in the morning, crying, screaming, lying.
And the worst part? He was good at it.
James had fallen for it. Completely. It had felt so real—he’d never been so scared in his life. So he doesn’t blame the adults for believing it, either. Even Sirius might have stayed in the lie, if it weren’t for one detail: Regulus claiming he wanted to apologize to James.
That, right there, was impossible.
"I did," Regulus says now, his voice soft, "but I just wanted to make sure you weren’t offended by anything I said. I didn’t mean any of it." He blinks slowly, feigning remorse.
James fakes a smile and shakes his head.
"And I owe an apology to both of you as well," Regulus continues, glancing at James’ parents. "For the scene last night. It must not have been pleasant, hearing me say those things about your son. I’m truly sorry."
James' mom, as sensitive to Regulus as Mrs. Black is, immediately assures him it doesn’t matter anymore. They’re just relieved he’s safe.
That was his plan all along.
Now, everyone will forget what happened, and he’ll walk away free of consequence. Because that’s what he gets for being the perfect son.
If it had been Sirius, James knows they would have blamed him for being reckless, for running off in the middle of the night. And his parents? They would have locked him in the house forever. But not Regulus. Regulus just has to say the right words, wear the right mask, and they’ll keep believing in the angelic version of him.
That's how things have always worked.
"I should go now," Regulus announces after a few more minutes of small talk. "Dad’s sorting out the details about my credit cards, being stolen and all, but mom wants me to go with her to buy a new phone as soon as possible. I just wanted to speak with the three of you first."
They say their goodbyes. James’ mom pulls Regulus into a tight hug, making him promise to reach out if he ever needs anything. His dad simply shakes his hand and wishes him a better day.
"See you later, James," Regulus says with a soft smile, almost amused.
James downs the rest of his water. "I’ll walk you out, Regulus."
Regulus’ smile falters just slightly. He looks like he’s about to argue, but James is already stepping out of the kitchen. He has no choice but to follow.
The second they’re in the hallway, away from the others, Regulus’ expression shifts. The pleasant mask drops, his eyes sharpening like knives.
"Did you have fun?" James asks dryly, walking beside him. Regulus meets his pace—graceful as ever.
"Yes, it was a great party," Regulus replies, utterly unfazed. Unbelievable.
"I didn’t realize you were such an ass."
"Really?" Regulus arches a brow, genuinely surprised. "After all this time?"
James shrugs. "I used to have a little faith in you. Not anymore. What you did was off-limits."
The pranker inside him, tough? Well, that James is taking fucking notes.
Regulus snorts, rolling his eyes. "Cry me a river, Potter. If you were a little smarter, you’d have done the same. Besides, you made me do it—it’s entirely your fault."
James had thought about that, too.
"I’m sorry," he blurts out, stopping in his tracks.
Regulus pauses as well, watching him carefully. Under the dim light of the hallway, he looks exhausted. He probably got less than five hours of sleep.
James exhales. "I’m sorry for putting you in that situation."
He had never been friends with Regulus, but they’d never had a real problem before either. Regulus had always found him insufferable, and James had simply dealt with it. He didn’t want trouble with him—not now, not ever.
"You should be," Regulus says, narrowing his eyes. "Stay out of my business."
"I will. You know I don’t care about you," James replies evenly. "I don’t want problems."
Regulus takes a step closer, his gaze darkening. "You don’t care about me?"
"Not really. Not anymore, at least."
James isn’t sure what’s happening, but he doesn’t move when Regulus steps forward, tilting his head slightly to look up at him.
"Then why did you wait up for me until four in the morning?"
"I was calming Sirius down."
"From your house?" Regulus snaps back immediately, eyes gleaming with amusement. James unconsciously takes a step back, though they’re still uncomfortably close.
Regulus is younger. Shorter.
So why the hell does he feel so intimidating?
"You were worried about me, Potter. Admit it."
"No way," James scoffs. No way he’s admitting that—because he was worried. He knows himself too well to deny it. "Why?"
"It’d boost my ego," Regulus smirks.
"Call Crouch for that."
James regrets the words the second they leave his mouth.
The shift is immediate. Regulus’ smirk vanishes, his entire demeanor turning ice-cold as he steps back. James doesn’t even know why he said it—it just felt right in the moment. That’s the difference between them: Regulus thinks ahead, even under pressure. James just says the first thing that comes to mind, whether it’s right or wrong.
And now Regulus is looking at him like he wants to strangle him.
It’s fair, though. James gets mad when Regulus talks shit about Sirius. Feels the instinctive need to defend his best friend. Barty is like a brother to Regulus, and James is far from his favorite person.
"Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that," James mutters, and it sounds almost like fear.
Because when their parents aren’t around, Regulus isn’t the composed, golden son they all believe he is. He’s a bomb, primed to explode. A single look, a single word, and he can burn everything to the ground.
So when the cold, clipped "Goodbye, Potter" echoes in the hallway, James just watches him walk away with an uncomfortable knot forming in his chest.
He hates feeling guilty over just four words.
Especially when Regulus just pulled something so much worse on all of them.
And yet, he doesn’t even know why it upsets him so much.
Well.
If he’s being honest with himself—everything James does seems to upset Regulus. That’s why he gave up trying to be friends with him years ago.
But he really had tried.
Sirius told him once, when they first met, that his little brother was the sweetest kid in the world. That the three of them would be best friends.
That didn’t happen. Clearly.
James met Regulus a week after meeting Sirius. He’d been away with their mother, visiting their grandmother when James moved into the neighborhood. When they returned, James was invited to dinner at the Blacks’ house. Regulus had been strangely well-behaved—polite, quiet, saying all the right things at all the right times. The only flaw, their parents had noted, was his lack of proper smiles. He was shy, apparently. Reserved around strangers.
But when dinner ended, when they were excused to "get to know each other," Sirius had immediately switched into his usual lively personality—joking, rambling about how much he had missed Regulus.
Regulus, on the other hand, was stiff as a statue.
"You okay, Reg? Does your belly hurt again?" Sirius had asked after several minutes, his usual cheer dimming into concern. James had been getting nervous too—Regulus hadn’t said a word willingly, just some dry answers to questions James had asked him.
Regulus nodded, frowning slightly, pressing a hand to his stomach. "I feel sick."
"Let’s go, we need to tell Mom," Sirius said immediately, standing up and grabbing his little brother’s hand. "I’ll be right back, James."
James had just nodded, watching them disappear back inside.
So much for a first impression.
But James figured he'd try again the next morning.
Except… when the next day arrived, Sirius invited James over again, eager to spend the day together. And Regulus?
Regulus went with their father.
To the company.
"I don’t know, Jamie," Sirius had said, looking utterly baffled when James asked why. "He hates that stuff just as much as I do."
"What did he say?"
"I told him we’d have the whole day to hang out with you, and he just said, ‘I’m busy, I have to do something with Dad.’ The only thing Dad does is go to the company. So Regulus is there right now."
They had sat for a solid half-hour, trying to figure out why. They never got an answer.
On the third day, Sirius invited James over again, and this time, Regulus was there—but he was helping their mother in the garden.
"Regulus hates getting his hands dirty," Sirius muttered when they were alone in his room, clearly perplexed. "I don’t know what’s going on with him."
Then came the fourth day.
For the first time, Regulus was actually at James’ house when he opened the door—but it hardly mattered. Because, instead of spending the afternoon with them, Regulus spent it with James’ mother.
Sirius was in complete disbelief.
James’ mother, on the other hand, was thrilled to have Regulus around, especially when he started asking questions about her house. They fell into a deep conversation about Rome, since Regulus had just returned from a trip there. And because leaving him alone with James’ mother would have been rude, James and Sirius had no choice but to sit there the entire time, watching as eleven-year-old Regulus Black effortlessly charmed her within the span of an hour.
Fifth day, no different than the rest.
James had never seen his dad enjoy the presence of a kid before. But Regulus? Regulus had him.
James’ father wasn’t the kind of man to dote on children, but he did love literature. Regulus picked up on that immediately. They talked for two hours straight about books—ranking them, recommending them—even discussing movies.
James had never seen his father’s bookshelves with such scrutiny before, but apparently, Regulus had. The day before.
And now they were discussing titles James had never heard his father mention.
How did Regulus do that? How did he win over both of James’ parents in less than a week?
James had always felt awkward and shy around the Black family. He would never have been able to be alone with them in a room, let alone make them like him. "He’s got a charm," Sirius had said smugly, clearly proud of his little brother.
But when Sirius wasn’t proud, he was suspicious.
"I think something happened on his trip with Mom," Sirius muttered one afternoon, arms crossed. "He won’t talk to me at all. We barely spend time together now."
Sirius started missing his little brother, even before he truly lost him.
And so, James never took it personally.
For months, he simply assumed that was just who Regulus was. That he liked being alone. That he preferred to keep to himself.
That didn’t stop Sirius and James from trying, though. They always invited him along—whether it was to a movie or the city fair.
Regulus always refused.
James didn’t think much of it.
Until the day Sirius introduced Regulus to Remus and Peter.
It was months later, one day after school.
"He might be a bit rude, but don’t take it personally, alright?" Sirius warned them in advance.
Remus just laughed. Peter, on the other hand, looked genuinely nervous.
Regulus appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later, book in hand, moving at an agonizingly slow pace. When he reached the living room, his dark eyes scanned the group.
"Hi. I’m Regulus," he said. Then, after a beat: "Reg, if you like."
James and Sirius’ jaws hit the floor.
Regulus walked over and casually took a seat on the empty couch.
"Hi," Remus greeted with a smile, clearly intrigued by him. "We’re Remus and Peter. What are you reading?"
"Wuthering Heights." Regulus turned the book to show them the cover. "You read it last year for school, right? This is Sirius’ copy—my dad’s favorite, too. Did you like it?"
James nearly choked.
Regulus was talking.
Not just talking—he was making conversation.
And—what the hell—Remus and Peter were actually chuckling and enjoying it?
Meanwhile, Sirius and James sat there, absolutely stunned.
Who was this kid?
Because this was not the same Regulus Black they had walking around the past months.
"Sirius told us you don’t like his friends," Peter blurted out when Regulus asked why they seemed so tense. "You do know we’re his friends, right?"
"Yeah, of course," Regulus said, rolling his eyes with a full smile. "I don’t dislike his friends."
Sirius sat up abruptly. "You don’t?"
Regulus frowned.
"Why would you think that?"
"You never got along with James."
Silence.
Complete.
And absolute.
Every single person in that room turned to stare at Regulus.
If they were expecting an answer, they never got one.
Instead, Regulus coughed awkwardly, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Right. Well. Nice to meet you guys." He stood, book tucked under his arm. "I’ll be in my room, studying. But, Sirius? Don’t need me, please."
Without another glance at Sirius or James, he walked away.
The room remained quiet for a long moment before Remus suddenly chuckled.
"I like him," he admitted. "He’s mean."
"What’d you do to the poor guy, James?" Peter asked, still looking bewildered. "He seems really cool."
James never had a clue. Neither did Sirius—at least, not until a few years ago, when James might have figured it out. That was the day he finally surrendered. Because if his suspicions were true, then there was really nothing he could do to fix it.
He keeps thinking about it on the way to his room, in the shower, while changing his clothes—even while eating breakfast alone in the kitchen.
The only thing that jolts him out of his thoughts is Remus’ voice. James doesn’t even remember inviting him over.
“There you are,” Remus says, suddenly in front of him at the counter. “Good fucking morning, James.”
“For you, maybe” James mutters, rolling his eyes. His recent conversation with Regulus has ruined his whole day—maybe even his week. That’s how much impact Regulus’ resentment has on James’ life. “What are you doing here, and why are you having a good morning? You’re the one who’s always miserable.”
Remus laughs openly, completely unbothered. He knows it’s true. All of them have pretty shitty lives. Peter might be the exception, but Remus? Remus kind of has it worse.
James and Sirius could fix a lot of their problems if they just listened to their parents. If they played along, if they liked the company, they could have it easier. But Remus’ case? That was impossible to fix. How do you fix the fact that his father is a homophobic asshole who found out about his son being gay a year ago?
Those were awful times. James sometimes thinks it would have been better if Remus had just been kicked out—if his family had disowned him—than for him to stay in that house, living under the weight of slurs and mistreatment. But of course, the Lupins had a reputation to uphold. Throwing out their only son for being gay? That wouldn’t look good. So, they kept him—and made sure he suffered for it.
James doesn’t know why Remus doesn’t just leave. He can. They can help him start over, build a better life, get away from all that misery. But Remus insists he can handle it. And though it drives Sirius crazy, they accept his decision.
“I don’t know,” Remus says, shrugging. “I just woke up remembering how you and Sirius stayed up until four in the morning looking for Regulus—just for him to be having the time of his life at some party. And I realized... people have it harder sometimes.”
James throws his spoon at his head. Remus dodges it effortlessly.
“Don’t be grumpy,” he teases. “It’ll be a funny story someday.”
“It won’t,” James insists. “He’s turning twenty soon—why can’t he just stop trying to ruin our lives? Mine and Sirius’. He has everything he wants.” James pushes himself up, slamming his dishes into the sink with unnecessary force. Remus winces. “His parents love him in a way they could never love Sirius. He has perfect friends, perfect grades, and in a few years, he’ll be running the company. What else does he want from us?”
“I don’t think he meant to cause all that, James. Honestly—”
“He plans everything two steps ahead, Remus. You don’t get it. He knew exactly what we were going to do.”
“Alright, calm down,” Remus lifts his hands, reminding James to breathe—thankfully, because James can feel himself spiraling. “Regulus is an ass. We’ve always known that. You should be less surprised—and way less stressed about it. Look, he’s probably laughing about this with his friends right now while you’re losing your mind. Let it go. Is Sirius in trouble?”
James hates the idea of Regulus laughing about it.
“No, I don’t think so. He would’ve told me.” James sighs, closing his eyes for a second. “He left me some messages earlier, before I woke up. His mom is forcing him to spend the morning with Regulus—y’know, to help him cope with his trauma.”
Remus grins. “Regulus and Sirius bonding?”
James suddenly realizes—Remus is right. Some people really do have it worse.
“Oh, boy,” he mutters. “They must be losing their minds.”
###
Regulus loves his mother as much as he hates her. He knows she’s worried. He understands. But forcing him to go everywhere with her and Sirius? Absolutely not. If he had known this was the consequence of his lie, he never would have bothered.
And Regulus never regrets his decisions.
“What color would you like?” the store employee asks, holding up a catalog of phone options.
“Pick pink, Reg,” Sirius says, smirking. “It suits your aura.”
“If you want to steal my new phone, Sirius, just buy yourself one,” Regulus deadpans.
Before Sirius can respond, their mother pinches both their arms. Sirius hisses. Regulus tenses immediately. “One more word, and I’m locking you both in a room for the rest of the day.”
Regulus would confess his lie right then and there if it meant avoiding that particular hell. It’s not even noon.
Sirius has been in a bad mood since breakfast—when their mother refused to let him go to James’ house. She insists they have to stay together today, to help Regulus process his trauma. To keep him safe. Sirius had laughed ironically. Regulus had thrown a spoon at his head. (It wasn’t a butter knife only because it was out of reach.)
Their mother didn’t actually care when the spoon hit Sirius’ cheek. But she did warn them to behave.
“Sorry,” they mutter in unison.
“I’ll take the black one,” Regulus adds.
Sirius scoffs. “Fitting.”
Their mother glares. “Because of our last name!” Sirius clarifies quickly.
She sighs. Regulus chuckles silently.
She leaves to pay, and they’re left in an awkward silence. They don’t talk much anymore—except when Sirius barges into Regulus’ room just to ramble about James’ life. Regulus never reacts. That pisses Sirius off more than anything.
Sirius isn’t an enigma to him. Even now, after everything. So, Regulus knows his brother is trying to figure out how to escape this day.
Their mother returns. “We’re picking up your father for lunch.”
They follow her to the car. Automatically, they both slide into the backseat.
They never fight for the front passenger’s seat, never did. When Regulus was little, he refused to sit far from his older brother, and since the both of them couldn’t be in the front, they just stayed in the back together, forever, even when they stopped acting like brothers.
It’s a habit.
Sirius snatches the phone from his hands. Regulus lets him. Sirius likes opening new packages and brand-new things. When Regulus goes shopping with his friends, usually leaves his bags in the living room until Sirius notices them and puts his hands on them, leaving the clothes folded in Regulus’s bed. It’s one thing about Sirius that doesn’t bother him.
There’s a greeting on the screen of the phone, once Sirius hands it back to him, and it feels lightweight in his hand. He’s going to miss his old phone and it will take him some time to get used to the new one.
Regulus hates changes. He hates having to replace things.
“Do you have a copy of your data?” Sirius asks without looking at him, too focused on putting the trash back in the bag. Regulus doesn’t mention that he wants to keep the box—he always keeps the packaging of his things. That’s one thing Sirius doesn’t know about him.
“Probably,” Regulus lies, just in case his mom is listening. Sirius doesn’t know that Barty has his old phone, but he certainly knows it isn’t lost. “I’ll figure it out later. Do you have Barty’s number, by any chance?”
Most of the time, they’re decent human beings.
“I don’t think so, Reg,” Sirius mumbles, pulling his phone from the pocket of his leather jacket. Regulus likes that jacket. He thinks about stealing it more than he should. Sirius scrolls through his contacts, Regulus peering at the screen, but there’s nothing. “I don’t, but I’ll ask James, Remus, or Peter. They probably have Pandora’s or Dorcas’s. Wait.”
Regulus quietly appreciates that Sirius always tries to make things easier for him, even in small ways. Maybe it’s a habit left over from childhood.
“James has… Barty’s? What the fuck?” Sirius looks as surprised as he sounds. Regulus chuckles. “Why would he have Barty’s number? This is betrayal. He’s being unfaithful, isn’t he?”
“Probably,” Regulus says, turning to the window so Sirius won’t see his smile. “Barty told me the other day. They chatted for a while, maybe they exchanged numbers then.”
Messing with Sirius is too fun. Regulus forgets that sometimes.
A minute of silence passes before Sirius exhales, frowning. “What did you just say?”
“James and Barty. You know them. They’re friendly.”
“No way. No.”
Regulus grins as Sirius, losing his mind, immediately calls James. He answers on the second ring, and Regulus realizes the call is on speaker.
“Sirius! Finally, I miss you! Where are you? Why did you need that guy’s number?”
“Hi, you traitor,” Sirius hisses. Regulus has to bite his lip to keep from laughing. “Why on Earth would you have Bartemius Crouch Junior’s number in your phone, James Fleamont Potter?”
Sirius using full names is hilarious. Regulus starts recording the conversation with his new phone’s voice memos to use as blackmail later.
“What? Sirius, I don’t—”
“Don’t lie to me!” Sirius snaps. “Are you his friend now? Is that it? Are you bonding with the enemy?”
“Me?” James gasps, offended. “Why would I do that? Remus—”
“Remus talks with Barty too, I saw them,” Regulus whispers just loudly enough. Sirius loses it and ends the call, pouting. Regulus pats his shoulder awkwardly. “Don’t worry. You’ll find better friends.”
Sirius, ever the drama queen, declines every single call from James all the way to the company. They wait in the car for their dad, neither in the mood to go inside. Normally, Regulus would visit his father’s office on the top floor to greet everyone and make his presence known, but he isn’t feeling up to it. He’s not even dressed properly. His mom doesn’t insist, which is a relief.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I was in a meeting,” their dad says once he’s in the front seat. He barely looks at them, but they mumble a greeting. “I canceled your cards, Regulus. Here are the new ones.”
Regulus isn’t sure how he did that without his presence but takes the envelope and hands it to Sirius, who’s already holding out his hand. Three brand-new credit cards are inside. Both of them admire the plastic rectangles like they’ve discovered something groundbreaking.
“What’d you do with them?” Sirius asks in a low voice, not explicit, just in case. Regulus is glad he’s not that mad anymore.
“Barty.” Short answer, big meaning. Sirius seems to understand immediately and hands the cards back. Regulus has a new wallet too.
“Aren’t you going to call him? Why did you ask me for his number?”
“Later. He’s probably not awake yet.”
If the twins usually sleep until noon, with a hangover they’re like hibernating bears. Dorcas might be up, but Regulus isn’t going to bother her first.
“Are any of you craving Thai food?” Their mom smiles in the rearview mirror.
Regulus and Sirius share a horrified look.
“Sure, honey,” their dad answers, eyes on his phone.
Regulus prays. Probably Sirius does too.
***
“Mom,” Regulus says, dabbing his lips with a napkin. Lunch is terrible. He takes a sip of water, trying to wash away the taste. “I was supposed to help Pandora and Barty pick out a present for his father’s birthday. Remember?”
“Yes, but you’re not going.”
Sirius snorts. Regulus wishes he’d choke on his food. Food he has barely touched, by the way.
“I know, but I was supposed to call them this morning. Dorcas must have told them I was with her last night, but they don’t know anything else. They’re probably worried.”
“Call them. I heard James gave Sirius Barty’s number.”
For fuck’s sake, woman. Regulus looks to his father for help, but he’s too busy enjoying his meal to intervene.
“Yeah, I know, that’s the plan, but I’m sure they’d want to see me. I know we’re supposed to spend the day together, just us, but I’d really like to see my friends too. I was thinking of heading home after lunch. Call it a day. I bet Sirius is tired—he was up late too, right?”
“Yes, mom,” Sirius nods.
“And I bet James is worried about Sirius. He’s been calling nonstop. You know they have codependency issues. You can’t keep them apart for too long.”
That makes their father chuckle. “That kid James panicked last night. I remember him running into Fleamont’s office. It was like that one time, Regulus, when you fell off your bike.”
“What? I don’t remember you falling off your bike, Reg. Where was I?” Sirius frowns.
Second worst day of his life.
“Sick,” Regulus answers. “You caught a cold and stayed in bed all day. We had lunch at James’ house, but no one wanted him to catch it and didn't let him visit you, so he followed me around instead. I went outside with my bike, but I fell and scratched my knees and arms.”
Regulus was scared and hurt, and his older brother wasn’t around to save him. He didn’t cry, just pouted while James ran to him, face pale at the sight of blood. Regulus had to snap him out of it and ask him to call his mom or anyone who could actually help. James sat next to him, holding his hand as his mom cleaned the wounds with alcohol. He never complained the way Sirius used to.
At the end, Regulus was sent home too and looked for Sirius to tell him what happened, but his brother was deeply asleep. He decided not to bother him.
“James never told me anything. Why?”
“Don’t know, ask him,” Regulus answers sincerely, avoiding asking himself the same question. “James worries about everyone, dad, anyway.”
“Could be. Did you apologize to him for your little stunt last night?”
“Of course,” he rushes to clarify, his mother clicking her tongue loudly. “I apologized to him and his parents after breakfast. James says he wasn’t offended at all, and Mr. and Mrs. Potter just said they are glad nothing bad happened to me after I left.”
“There’s what we always say, kids: bad things happen to bad people,” his mom says, looking at both of them. They already know that. Sirius has practically raised Regulus with that phrase in mind, just to make him behave. “Do bad things and face the consequences, right, son? I hope this is a lesson for you.”
“It is. I can assure you that.”
What a good lesson he learns: how easy it is to fool everyone.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you better think twice before pulling another stunt like that with James again. Am I understood?” She looks straight into his eyes, and Regulus’ entire nervous system trembles. He nods while swallowing hard. All right, probably his mom didn’t exactly forget.
“I thought you got over this problem of yours when you were eleven, Regulus,” his father clicks his tongue. “You promised to behave with James. You’re not causing trouble after all this time, are you? You’re about to turn twenty. Don’t disappoint us now.”
They aren’t bringing this topic up. Not in front of Sirius. Are they stupid?
“What problem? What are you talking about?”
Regulus holds his fork as if his life depends on it, his heart beating incredibly and ridiculously fast. Their parents have never told Sirius. Ever. Regulus never had to ask them not to. They just decided to keep it a secret. It is a secret. Sirius can’t know. Why are they bringing it up now? Is this his punishment? That could be the worst thing Regulus has to face. He prefers being fucking drowned.
“Why’d you promise to behave with James, Regulus?” Sirius insists.
He gets Sirius’ confusion. Even though Regulus despises James, he has never treated him badly in front of any adult. The Potters think Regulus is a good friend of James, just not as close as Sirius, and their parents think the same—or at least, that’s what they make James and Sirius believe. Why would Regulus have to promise to behave with a very good friend of his?
Their parents stay silent, but this time, Regulus doesn’t know what to say.
“Could you stop ignoring me?” Sirius wraps his fingers around Regulus’ wrist above the table, annoyed, mad, and confused. “What is going on? Mom? Dad?”
Thinking better about it, Regulus doesn’t feel that way anymore. So what’s the matter? Right—Sirius’ sad face and the fact that he’d want to mend all the things he did wrong in the past. But he won’t be able to, and that would break his very soft heart that still worries for Regulus.
Is it that bad to break his heart? Really? He broke yours.
No.
If Regulus has a soft spot left in him, it belongs to Sirius.
Not that he’ll ever say it out loud.
“They caught me talking badly about James after I met him, when I was eleven,” Regulus lies, because lying is one of the things he does very well. His parents share a look, but he knows they aren’t going to say anything. They would have done it before if they wanted to. Regulus isn’t sure if that’s a good sign—lying in front of them to save his ass. Would they think he’s smart? Would they doubt his words every time he promises something? “I promised that, even if I don’t like James, I would always respect him in front of everyone, as I’ve been doing all this time.”
Not a lie. He had promised. And he still regrets it with every cell in his body. Faking liking James Potter is the biggest mistake he has ever made. But he was just eleven, with a broken heart and a need to make his parents proud. The nineteen-year-old Regulus doesn’t blame his past self.
“Is that it?” Sirius twists his lips and frowns. “They just found out you don’t like James?”
“Yes, Sirius, what else could it be?” Regulus rolls his eyes. “Are you surprised they didn’t lock me in a room with him until I made peace?”
“Well, of course?” He looks at their parents, incredulous. “You didn’t?”
Their mom’s expression is cold and rigid. “We still could. Don’t make us do it, Regulus.”
Regulus would literally kill himself in front of James if he had to spend one hour alone with him in a room. He prefers being alone with Sirius for a whole year. Now, they could make peace.
But they won’t, or that would mean having to explain to Fleamont and Effie that Regulus hates their son. They wouldn’t risk it. It wouldn’t matter if Sirius declared that James was his true and only brother—if they knew Regulus didn’t like James, that could mess up a lot of things between the families, starting with the company.
“You can call your friends if you want,” their mother sighs finally, ending the conversation. “And you can go see James, Sirius. I could use a nap too.”
Regulus turns his head to his right, and Sirius is watching him too. They share a little, tiny smile, but Regulus doesn’t miss how Sirius looks at him weirdly and knows the topic isn’t really gone.
He hates his parents.
***
“I think I’m going to die today,” Pandora groans, throwing herself onto his bed, face down on the mattress and arms stretched out. “Never again, please.”
“Dorcas isn’t coming?” Regulus asks after only Barty walks in behind his sister.
“Hello to you too, idiot,” Barty hisses, sitting in one corner of the bed. “We called her, and she said she’s too tired to leave her house but sends you kisses.”
Regulus chuckles, closing his book and shifting in his chair to face them. He knows they are hungover and not in the best mood—at least Pandora. Barty is just sleep-deprived.
Barty takes out Regulus’ old phone from his pocket and holds it out for him to take, which he does. In less than five minutes, he is making sure his old information transfers to his new phone. Easy.
“Barty,” Regulus calls, watching his best friend scrolling through his phone. “Why does Potter have your number?”
It’s an inevitable question. Sirius is probably asking the same thing to his best friend in the house across the street.
Sirius didn’t even make it inside their house. The moment their mom parked on the front porch, Sirius ran to get out of the car and knocked on the Potters’ door, stumbling in his feet. James opened just in the next second, as if he was already waiting behind it.
As if spending the morning with Regulus had making him lose his mind.
Regulus didn’t want to watch their reunion, after spending half day away from each other, so he just went inside the house with his mom and waited patiently for his friends to arrive, after calling them on the way back home
Barty frowns.
“I don’t know. Does he?”
“Hm-hm,” Regulus mumbles before playing the voice memo he recorded in the car—Sirius’s dramatic stunt, explaining how he lied to him, claiming Barty and James were friendly with each other.
Pandora listens, her face still buried in the bed, shoulders shaking with laughter. Barty just smiles and rolls his eyes.
“I would literally kill myself.”
“Yeah,” Regulus nods, amused. “That’s what I thought.”
“Reg,” Pandora calls, rolling onto her back, legs crossed, hands resting on her stomach. “I see you’re still alive.”
“Tragic, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Barty chimes in, lying down beside her. “Now, would you care to explain how your ridiculous, borderline suicidal plan actually worked? Just so we can steal it in the future?”
Regulus leans back in his chair, exhaling. “I need apologies first—for doubting me. As if anything I do ever fails.”
He can’t see them, not really, but he’s fairly certain they just rolled their eyes in sync. Barty flips him off.
“I had everyone awake until four a.m. And when I say everyone, I mean even James fucking Potter was waiting for me—alongside his parents. I deserve some respect.”
Pandora giggles. “Shut up, you liar.”
“There’s no way he waited willingly. He was forced.”
“I don’t care,” Regulus shrugs. “Potter suffered, and that’s more than enough satisfaction for me.”
He launches into the full story—from the moment Barty left him to the lunch with his family. His friends mock him and laugh in between, enjoying every bit of it.
“If Sirius ever finds out what happened that year, he’s going to lose his mind,” Barty muses, glancing at his sister. Her face lights up, clearly having the same idea. “Let’s go tell him right fucking now.”
Barty, Dorcas, and Pandora are the only ones who know everything about Regulus. They met at eleven, back when he was struggling with no one to talk to. He trusted them. He sobbed in Dorcas’s arms while Pandora rubbed his back, under the sharp scrutiny of Barty’s wide eyes, confessing how miserable he was, how impossible the problem he faced every day felt.
That was the moment they all kind of started hating Sirius. Regulus never asked them to, but he silently thanked them. He felt less alone.
“I’d murder you if you did that to me,” Pandora had said to her brother. “If any of you did, actually. We’re in this for life. I refuse to be the cause of Regulus’ suffering.”
And that was it. They were stuck with each other. Not out of obligation, not because of blood. Regulus truly loved them. He chose them, and they chose him. That was the best part.
Pandora asks them to order food now—sushi, specifically—but Barty tells her to shut up in the rudest way possible, which immediately escalates into a fight. Pandora jumps up, yelling, while Barty takes a few steps back, physically wary but still shouting just to antagonize her further.
Regulus watches them with mild amusement. They’ll give up soon, and he’ll still order sushi in the end. Barty never denies his sister anything—he just likes to mess with her first. It’s a twin thing.
Regulus never had that. Sirius always gave him everything before he could even ask. He just knew. Maybe, if things had gone differently, if their relationship hadn’t fractured when they were kids, they could’ve been like the twins.
“Pizza and sushi, please,” Pandora says sweetly as Regulus pulls out his phone, cursing under his breath as he stands up. The twins follow closely behind.
For as long as he can remember, Regulus has never had a phone call where he wasn’t pacing. It’s just a habit. Probably because he hates phone calls.
Pandora once tried to help by calling herself, but she spoke so fast the pizza guy couldn’t understand her. She called him a “stupid dick” before hanging up.
Barty, of course, wasn’t helpful either. “Face your fears,” he told Regulus, even though it wasn’t a fear. Barty just finds most people stupid and doesn’t like talking to them unless it’s to mess with them.
Dorcas is usually his savior, but she’s not here.
Eventually, he places the order, watching his feet shift against the floor. He catches glimpses of Pandora’s and Barty’s too, circling around him.
“Made it,” he sighs in relief.
“Good job, Reg!” Barty opens his arms for a hug, but Regulus immediately steps back, which only makes Barty laugh and chase him. They run around Pandora, who laughs in a surprisingly normal way.
Then, a yell echoes from across the street.
“REGULUS!”
They freeze.
None of them—no one—expects to see James Potter, shirtless, leaning on his window frame.
Regulus’ stomach drops.
“Holy Christ,” Barty whispers, holding his breath. Regulus doesn’t blame him.
Not again. Don't do this to Regulus again.
The sunlight reflects off James’ brown skin, making it glow. He rests his weight on his elbows, muscles taut and well-defined. His grin is wide, teeth flashing. A few curls fall over his forehead, golden glasses catching the light.
James looks stunning. Like a fucking piece of art Regulus could paint. Not fucking, no. Holy.
Regulus can’t stop staring.
He’s always known James is handsome—at least since he accepted he was into boys at fifteen.
But his worst nightmare? The beach with the Potters.
Any other vacation destination is fine. Egypt? Amazing—he and Fleamont spent hours discussing history. A safari? Beautiful—Effie adored the animals. Paris? Fun—Sirius and James butchered French accents just to annoy the locals.
But a tropical getaway? Hell on earth.
The Bahamas? Regulus nearly drowned himself just to escape the sight of James taking his shirt off.
He spent the rest of that trip making excuses, refusing to leave his hotel room. He would never—ever—put himself through that again.
So why the fuck is James leaning half-naked out of his window now?
“Oh,” Pandora smirks, entirely unbothered. “And you two called me crazy for saying he’s worth the shot.”
“I could eat him,” Barty states, dead serious.
Regulus does not like that.
Clearing his throat, he slowly approaches his window, hands shaking as he grips the frame.
“What?” he calls out.
James’ grin only grows. He leans in further, a golden chain glinting around his neck. Effortlessly beautiful.
“Look at those arms,” Pandora whispers to Barty, just to mess with him.
Regulus really wants them to get them both the fuck out of his room.
“Sirius told me you changed your number,” James says, holding up his phone.
“So?” Regulus shrugs. “I’m not giving it to you, Potter.”
He hows strange this is. A conversation window to window.
Originally, this was Sirius’s room, and Regulus’s was the one where Sirius is now. But as Regulus grew older, he confessed to his brother how much he loved watching the stars at night—how he wished he could, but his room had no windows on that side of the house.
Sirius, being the good brother he was, gave up his own room without hesitation. Just so Regulus could stay up late, tracing constellations until his eyes grew heavy.
And it was perfect—until James moved in across the street.
His window lined up directly with Regulus’s.
Sirius asked him once—just once—to switch rooms again. Part of him wanted to be able to look across and see James’s window, but another part of him remembered why he had given the room away in the first place.
Regulus didn’t even hesitate before saying no. He would have done anything to stop Sirius from seeing James.
So, for nine years, Regulus has lived across from James’s window. And not once—not even accidentally—has he let himself look inside James' room.
Let alone do this.
“Why not?” James frowns, still smiling. “Aren’t we friends? Or do you just get to call me an ass in public, but I don’t get your number? That’s not fair, Reg.”
Regulus hears the shift in his tone. The unspoken challenge.
“Is he flirting?” he whispers to his friends.
Impossible.
“I think he is,” Barty murmurs, sounding overwhelmed.
Regulus makes a decision. What would be the worst thing that could happen?
He walks to his desk, grabs a post-it, scribbles something down, and sticks it to the glass.
James’ expression sharpens with interest.
“Come get it,” Regulus says, then turns away, retreating.
Pandora and Barty gape at him.
“Regulus?” Pandora shrieks, clutching her chest.
“Did you just—what?” Barty looks lost. “Did you just flirt with Potter? Is he gay?”
Regulus bursts out laughing. James Potter, gay? That sounds illegal.
Impossible.
It must have been just a joke. Maybe not even James knew what he was saying.
Their laughter is cut short by the doorbell.
“He’s coming, isn’t he?” Pandora whispers.
“I wouldn’t mind if he’s shirtless. Hell, I’ll make him coffee if he wants to stay.”
“You’re such a whore, Barty,” Pandora scoffs, rolling her eyes.
Her twin just shrugs.
“Guys?” Regulus calls, his stomach plummeting as he turns back to the window. “The note.”
There’s his number and—
“James,” Pandora whistles before Regulus can even think of snatching it away. “I see you’re good.”
Regulus finally looks at James, still from the safety of his bed, but James doesn’t look back. Instead, he heads straight for the window, moving past the twins, who eye him like they’ve just caught sight of him fully naked.
James plucks the note from the glass with two fingers, and Regulus’s mouth goes dry—those hands.
He’s wearing a white t-shirt now, loose over his frame, paired with gray sweatpants that sit low on his hips. A thin sheen of sweat glistens on his neck. His curls are a mess from pulling the shirt over his head, and his glasses sit slightly crooked.
Then James grins as he reads the note.
You should’ve come shirtless.
Regulus had scribbled it beneath his new number, convinced James would never actually show up.
“Should I have, really?” James asks, holding the note between his fingers, his gaze settling on Regulus with something dangerously amused.
Sometimes—just sometimes—Regulus is a coward when it comes to these things.
“Pandora’s idea,” he lies, forcing himself to sound indifferent.
James chuckles, and Regulus immediately wants to punch him. He remembers, with an almost violent clarity, that he’s supposed to hate him—now that his body is covered, at least.
“Was it?” James asks, turning his head toward Pandora. She and Barty exchange a glance, utterly lost, but she nods anyway. Barty crosses his arms, intrigued.
Regulus seizes the opportunity to change the subject. “Why’d you want my number so urgently?” He shifts into a more relaxed position on the bed, feigning disinterest.
James leans back against the window frame where Regulus had been earlier, but this time, he’s facing the room. “I don’t think you even had my old number.”
It’s true. They’ve never needed to exchange numbers, not even because of Sirius. If James ever needed to find Sirius, he knew better than to ask Regulus. And Regulus had no reason to seek out James for anything, either. On the rare occasion they had to communicate, they did it through Sirius—like that one time Fleamont asked James to pass along a message about a book. Even then, James had called Sirius, not Regulus.
James shrugs. “Wanted to mess with you. Didn’t think you’d actually give it to me.”
Pandora, for once in her life, does Regulus a favor and turns around to hide her laugh. Barty just bites his lip, eyes twinkling with amusement.
Regulus clenches his jaw. He fell for it. Because James was gloriously shirtless? What was he—fifteen?
“I didn’t like the number anyway,” he snaps, more at himself than at James. “I’ll change it tomorrow.”
James laughs, tapping the paper against his fingers. “Dramatic as always.”
Regulus narrows his eyes. “Wasn’t Sirius at your house? Does he know you’re here?”
James waves him off. “He fell asleep with Remus in the living room. I was about to take a shower but saw you all cozy and thought about ruining it.”
Barty huffs out a laugh, but they both ignore him.
Regulus crosses his arms. “Still bitter about last night?”
“Nah.” James shakes his head, every inch of him easy and unbothered. “Not at all, Reg.”
Regulus’s reaction is instant. “Don’t call me that. We’re not friends.”
James smirks. “That’s not what you told my parents this morning.”
Regulus glares. “Oh, sorry—was your brain so overstimulated that you couldn’t tell the difference between the truth and me saving my ass?”
James opens his mouth, ready to fire something back—something sharp, something smug—but he doesn’t get the chance.
Because a voice splits through the house. Loud. Angry.
“REGULUS ARCTURUS BLACK! COME DOWN HERE, RIGHT NOW.”
The room falls silent.
They know that voice.
As they glance at one another, confusion flickering in their expressions, panic begins to rise in Regulus’s chest.
His mother hasn’t called him by his full name in years.
She hasn’t raised her voice at him since he was eleven.
Unconsciously, his gaze flickers around the room. Searching for Sirius.