Christmas
Present
James
Snow fell in slow, soft flakes against the windows of the Potter house, the kind that lingered in the air before settling into the cold earth. Inside, the warmth wrapped around them like a soft blanket. The fireplace crackled merrily in the hearth as people weaved in and out of different rooms. The kitchen was full of different comfort foods that the Potters had made, and any that other people had brought- Lily, Peter, and a few other neighbors had come by after unwrapping presents to make it more of a party. He was surprised at a few- Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier, for one. They weren’t the most social people- Barty, at least, had never been- but they had come together and now sat talking to Sirius.
James ducked into the kitchen, filling his mug with hot chocolate before turning to make his way back into the kitchen. As he turned, the familiar creak of the front door swinging open caught his attention and he looked over to see Regulus standing there, door half-open behind him as if he wasn’t entirely sure if he wanted to stay or make a run for it. James tried to ignore the feeling spreading through his chest at the fact that he’d come at all- and not because Sirius or Remus had asked, but because James had.
“Want me to take your coat?” James said casually, holding his mug in one hand and leaning against the wall. “Won’t need it in here.”
Regulus’ sharp eyes focused on James, and James tried to ignore the feeling the squirmed in his stomach because of it. Instead he concentrated on looking nonchalant and casual, even though he was pretty sure he was failing miserably.
You’re here.
James. Get ahold of yourself.
“I’m not staying for long,” Regulus said, and it took James a second to remember the question he’d even asked to elicit that response.
“You say that every year,” James responded, grinning too casually.
You’re fucking this up. Be calm.
Regulus’ eyes flickered to where Lily stood in the living room, on her tiptoes and trying her best to adjust the star on the tree so it was no longer crooked. James allowed his gaze to follow where Regulus’ had lead, but when he looked back, the younger boy’s green eyes were on him again. They seemed to be searching his face, and James restrained himself from asking what he was looking for. Him and Lily were done- Regulus knew that, had poked at that wound until it bled- so why was he so intent on convincing himself James was still pining after her?
Sure, the breakup had sucked. He’d been with Lily basically since he’d gotten to university, and she was familiar. She was even-tempered, full of softness and wonder and always smelling of baked goods. It had been comfortable. But if he was being honest with himself, he had known it wasn’t going to last even before Lily had broken things off. He knew it when he thought of dark curls and dark green eyes and soft, pale skin. He knew it when his dreams left an ache so deep inside him that he couldn’t breathe.
He just wished that Regulus was able to see that the sadness he felt for his relationship wasn’t because he wanted to be with Lily. It was because for three years, he hadn’t known anything else.
“I got you something,” Regulus said after a moment’s pause. He seemed to watch James intently, gaze guarded but something glimmering underneath. James felt his eyebrows arch unconsciously, a surprised smile brushing over his face.
“Oh yeah?”
Instead of responding, Regulus reached into his coat pocket and pulled out two small items. When he opened his palm, two cuff links rested there.
“I thought it was fitting for someone who pretends to be so noble.” Regulus said as he dropped them into James’ hand, but the words had no bite to them. They seemed cautious, as if he wasn’t exactly sure where they stood now. Which was fair, considering one of the last things James had said to him had implied he shouldn’t bother showing up anymore. James tried not to cringe at the memory.
“Thank you,” James murmured, tucking them into his pocket. He allowed the words to slide over him easily, hoping Regulus would take it as a sign that he didn’t want tonight to go that way. Regulus just nodded, tension easing minutely out of his shoulders. “I didn’t…”
“It’s okay,” Regulus said quickly, shaking his head. His dark curls bounced as he did, and James watched as he absentmindedly pushed them back. “I didn’t expect…”
I didn’t expect you to.
I didn’t expect to be here tonight.
And maybe, I didn’t expect you to be nice tonight.
James supposed he had only himself to blame for that one.
“Right.” James cleared his throat, forcing a smile anyway. “I’ll get you something, though. I want to.”
Regulus didn’t seem to know what to say to that, so instead, he gave a small nod and brushed past James. James allowed his eyes to close as Regulus passed, taking in the familiar scent of sandalwood.
-
Three Years Ago
James
The scent of sandalwood washed over James as Regulus reached toward him to take the gift, the ghost of a smile on his face. It had been clear Regulus hadn’t been expecting anything from any of them- it was the first year he’d been invited to the Potter’s, after all, the first year that his parents had left for Christmas and he was alone at the manor. Inviting him hadn’t even been a question.
Whether he was going to show up had been more of one.
But the younger boy had come, albeit reluctantly, with presents in tow. Regulus had never really been a part of their group as he’d been too restricted for that. His parents barely liked to let him out of the house, much less around the Potters, who Walburga blamed for Sirius running away and never looking back. But on the occasional outings where he made it, the tension between the two of them… James had never felt that way with anyone, not even Lily. He and Lily danced vaguely around the idea of a relationship, had for years, but Regulus… Regulus had set fire to the idea without even talking about it, and James was still burning. He thought he might burn forever.
It was messier than he’d like to admit. He feared it was also more one-sided than he’d like to admit, but considering Regulus never seemed to want to talk about it, it didn’t matter anyway.
The sound of ripping paper pulled James back from his thoughts, and nervousness made its way up his throat as he watched Regulus open the gift. Regulus paused his movements as navy blue cloth came into view, pulling it out slowly. When he flipped it over, a stitched emblem that read Marauder University caused him to go still.
It was the university that him, Sirius, and Remus were all headed to, but James didn’t need to say that aloud. He knew with a sinking feeling that Regulus had made the connection, and instead of taking it in a positive I’ll wear it and remember you way, James could tell that all it did was remind Regulus that he and Sirius were leaving soon. It was written all over his face.
“Thank you,” was all Regulus said, and James wanted to snatch the sweatshirt out of his hands and wipe that look off his face. He should have known that wouldn’t have gone smoothly, but he had hoped… he didn’t know what he had hoped. Didn’t know what he had expected.
“You’re welcome,” James responded slowly, though his voice sounded slightly strangled. “I thought it’d be nice. A reminder to write.” There was a slightly awkward pause, and then he finished quickly, “To all of us.”
“Write,” Regulus echoed. “Yeah.”
-
Present
James
Laughter from the living room broke out, and James opened his eyes, allowing them to adjust to the bright lights. Shaking his head, he made his way into the living room and took a long drink of his hot chocolate. It didn’t take long before he spotted Regulus standing near the fireplace, gazing into the flames with that same distant look.
“Hey,” James said softly, stepping down toward him. “You alright?”
Regulus didn’t look at him. “Fine.”
James shifted awkwardly, his hands tucked into his pockets. “You know,” he began, attempting lightness, “this would be less awkward if you admitted you were having a good time.”
Regulus finally glanced at him, the faintest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips. “I wouldn’t go that far.”
“It’s Christmas, and you’re surrounded by friends. You mean to tell me that’s not fun?”
The words seemed to strike a nerve, and the smirk vanished from Regulus’ lips almost immediately.
“I wouldn’t necessarily say I’m surrounded by friends.”
James let out a noncommittal hum, tilting his head as he observed the room full of people. Evan and Barty were leaning against a wall talking to each other, and Sirius had moved to sprawl besides Remus on the couch. With amusement, James noted that his best friend was practically on Remus’ lap, and Remus didn’t look the least bit upset about it. Lily and Peter were arguing playfully over the best way to put tinsel on a tree, and a few others- neighbors that his parents had invited- were scattered about the room.
“Alright, then. It’s Christmas, and you’re with a friend. How’s that?”
Regulus surveyed him silently, and for a second, James considered the fact that Regulus might just leave. There was nothing keeping him here, and James couldn’t help but feel like he was making the situation worse, not better.
“I’m not sure I’d call you a friend, either.”
“I’m-” James began, and then he felt the words really, truly sink in. It wasn’t about what had happened these past few days. It was about everything that had happened before. James let out a soft breath, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “Yeah, maybe that’s not a good word for us.”
-
Three Years Ago
James
“Don’t go.”
James went still at the words, breath clotting in the frozen air. He hadn’t heard the front door creak as Regulus had come out, but now the boy stood behind him, his quiet presence undeniably loud to James. Like trying to ignore an axe hanging over your head, or a knife to your throat. Quiet, but dangerous.
“Reg,” James responded softly, not turning. “I have to go.”
“No, you don’t.” Regulus’ voice cracked on the last word, and without looking behind him he knew that Regulus would be cursing himself for showing even that much weakness. Light steps crunched on the snow, until Regulus was standing shoulder to shoulder with James. “You could go somewhere closer. Both of you could.”
Though he mentioned Sirius, James knew this wasn’t about his brother. Knew this was about them, about what they had never talked about. Sirius was a whole different conversation in general.
“We’ve already committed, Reg. And I like it there. I want to go there.”
A small, strangled noise seemed to come from Regulus at that. James’ gaze fell to the ground, toeing at the snow like it’d make his problems disappear.
“I’m sorry,” James found himself saying before he knew it. “We… I can’t stay here. I need to do this for myself.”
“Yeah.” Regulus muttered, and though James knew Regulus was trying to protect himself by seeming indifferent, it didn’t ease the sting. “Well. Good luck in university, then.”
It took James more than a second to notice the finality of the words, even as Regulus began to walk down the driveway.
“Where are you going?”
“We can’t keep doing… this. Whatever this is,” Regulus said bluntly, and when he turned to face James again, his face was shut off completely.
“So you’re leaving? You can’t even stay until Christmas is over?”
“It’s easier this way.” Regulus looked away, and a desperate sort of noise made its way out of James’ mouth before he could stop it. This wasn’t supposed to be how things ended. A messy conversation, lingering glances and prolonged touches gone in the blink of an eye.
“But not better,” James made out. “This isn’t better.”
There was a brief pause, and for a heartbeat James thought that maybe he’d come back to finish out the night. Instead, Regulus gave him a small smile that seeped sadness.
“Merry Christmas, James. Please don’t call me.”
With that, Regulus Black turned his back to James Potter and walked down the snow-lined street until he was out of sight.
-
Present
"I wasn’t expecting you to show up tonight." James shifted slightly, watching Regulus' profile carefully. "Thought you might sit this one out."
"So did I," Regulus replied, almost under his breath.
James hesitated, then lowered his voice. "You know I meant it, right? When I said I’d get you something. I still have time to find something you'd actually like."
Regulus’ lips twitched, the ghost of a smirk returning. "A miracle, truly."
James rolled his eyes, but his chest felt lighter. "I’m full of surprises."
They lapsed into silence again, but this time it felt less heavy. James let his gaze drift to the tree, now standing proud with the star perfectly in place. Lily shot him a knowing glance, her eyes flicking briefly toward Regulus before she turned away with a soft smile.
James bit the inside of his cheek, warmth spreading uncomfortably through his chest. She knew. She always knew.
The memory of three years ago drifted unbidden into his mind- the sweatshirt, the snow, Regulus’ quiet voice asking him not to leave. The sharpness of that goodbye still felt like a scar, something that hadn’t fully healed no matter how much time passed.
He wondered if Regulus thought about it too.
"Do you ever regret it?" James asked suddenly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Almost instantly he wished he could take them back, but they sat there, winding between them like smoke from a fire.
Regulus turned his head slightly, brow furrowing. "Regret what?"
James shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant. "Not… trying. Back then."
A long pause followed, and James swore he could hear his own heartbeat over the hum of conversation. Regulus' gaze flickered to the fire, and for a moment, James thought he wasn’t going to answer.
"I regret thinking that staying away would make things easier." Regulus' voice was quiet, almost too soft for James to catch. "It didn’t."
James swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly dry.
"It’s not too late, you know," James said carefully, his voice almost trembling with the weight of the words. "For us to stop pretending."
Regulus' eyes finally met his, dark green and unreadable as ever. But there was something softer in his expression now, a hesitant vulnerability that James hadn’t seen in years. That he wanted to see more of.
"It’s never been about pretending, James," Regulus said quietly. "It’s about knowing how it ends."
James' breath caught in his chest, and he stepped closer without thinking, his hand brushing against Regulus' lightly.
"Maybe it doesn’t have to end," James said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Regulus’ gaze flickered to their hands for half a second before he gently and deliberately pulled away.
"It’s easier this way," Regulus said softly, echoing words James hadn’t forgotten since the day they were first spoken.
James watched him for a long moment, the ache settling deep into his bones. But this time, there was no sharpness to it. Just a quiet understanding that maybe, just maybe, Regulus wasn’t ready to stop running.
And James… James could wait.
He offered a small, sad smile, leaning back against the mantle with his arms crossed.
"Alright," James murmured. "But it’s not better."
Regulus didn’t respond, but the flicker of something in his eyes told James he had heard. James let the words hang between them, unspoken but heavy. The younger boy shifted slightly, eyes fixed on the fire as if it could offer him some answer James couldn’t.
Before James could say anything else, the sound of Sirius laughing—loud and boisterous—echoed from the other room, shaking loose the quiet that had settled over them. Regulus’ shoulders tensed, but James could see the faint twitch at the corner of his mouth, like he was trying not to smile.
“You’re going to have to go in there eventually,” James said, nodding toward the doorway.
Regulus’ eyes narrowed slightly. “I’m perfectly fine staying right here.”
James huffed a quiet laugh. “What, afraid of a little holiday cheer?”
“I’m more afraid of whatever Sirius put in the eggnog.”
Before James could reply, Remus appeared in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame with his arms crossed. His eyes flickered between the two of them, and James knew instantly that Remus had been listening—he always did have a habit of catching the tail end of conversations he wasn’t supposed to hear.
“We’re starting a game of charades,” Remus announced, with that same calm but firm voice he used when Sirius got too rowdy at parties. “You can lurk by the fireplace later, Reg. Sirius is already three rounds in, and we need someone to sabotage his winning streak.
James watched as Regulus hesitated for a beat longer before sighing quietly and stepping away from the fire. As he passed James, their arms brushed slightly- just enough for James to feel the warmth of him through his coat.
“Don’t get sentimental, Potter,” Regulus muttered under his breath.
James grinned. “Too late.”
The living room was chaos by the time they returned. Sirius stood in the center, flailing his arms dramatically as Lily and Barty tried to guess whatever elaborate mime he was attempting. Peter was laughing so hard he was nearly crying, curled up in the armchair by the tree, while Evan Rosier sat beside him, lazily sipping a drink and offering the occasional sarcastic guess.
“Dragon!” Lily called out, smirking. “Or maybe you’re just having a breakdown.”
“Both,” Remus added dryly.
“Neither!” Sirius spun to point at them accusingly. “It was clearly an octopus.”
James crossed his arms, grinning as he leaned against the wall. “I thought it was a penguin.”
Sirius threw his hands up. “Thank you, James. Finally, someone with taste.”
Regulus, slipping into the room quietly, snorted softly under his breath. “That says more about your taste than his.”
Sirius’ eyes lit up the moment he spotted Regulus lingering near the edge of the room. “Well, look who decided to join the festivities! Careful, Reg, one game of charades and you might start enjoying yourself.”
Regulus rolled his eyes but didn’t leave. Instead, he tucked himself into the corner of the couch, arms crossed over his chest in a way that screamed I’m not participating, but I’ll judge you all from a distance.
James sat down beside him, careful not to crowd his space.
As the game went on, something shifted. Maybe it was the warmth of the fire or the way Remus kept refilling everyone’s drinks, but eventually, the tension that had lingered since the dinner two nights ago seemed to dissolve.
***
Sirius
He heard the soft click of the door before he saw Regulus stepping outside. Sirius didn’t turn, but he knew the sound of his brother’s footsteps, lighter and more measured than his own. Sirius had needed to cool off, and between the alcohol and the amount of people inside, there was nowhere better than the Potter’s front porch. It looked like Regulus had the same idea, though Sirius doubted he’d been drinking- Regulus had never cared for anything that made him feel out of control.
Regulus stopped a few feet away, his hands tucked into the deep pockets of his coat, shoulders stiff as if he hadn’t entirely decided whether he wanted to stay.
“You’re avoiding the chaos,” Sirius said, finally glancing sideways.
Regulus’ lips twitched faintly. “I prefer my chaos in small doses.”
The silence stretched between them, filled with all the things they hadn’t said in years. Sirius could feel Regulus watching him carefully, as if waiting for Sirius to make the first move.
It had always been like this—an unspoken chasm that neither of them had dared to cross, even before Sirius left home for good.
Sirius shifted, kicking at the snow with the toe of his boot. “You know, you didn’t have to stay.”
Regulus shrugged. “James invited me, and I think if he hadn’t, Remus would have.”
Sirius chuckled under his breath. “Right. Couldn’t possibly disappoint them.”
Regulus didn’t reply immediately. When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, more careful. “It wasn’t just them.”
Sirius turned his head slightly, meeting Regulus’ gaze for the first time since they’d stepped outside. There was something guarded in his brother’s eyes, but underneath it, buried so deeply Sirius almost missed it, was the faintest flicker of something else.
Regret.
Sirius leaned against the porch railing, folding his arms over his chest. “You could’ve written, you know. It wasn’t like I left the country.”
Regulus’ jaw tightened. “You didn’t make it easy, Sirius.”
“Wasn’t supposed to be easy,” Sirius shot back, though the sharpness in his voice faded almost instantly. He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling roughly. “But I didn’t think you’d just let me go like that.”
Regulus’ eyes flickered down to the snow, his shoulders hunching slightly.
“I didn’t,” he said, so quietly that Sirius almost didn’t hear him. “Not at first.”
Sirius frowned. “Then why…”
“Because you didn’t look back.” Regulus’ voice hardened like he was forcing the words out after holding them in too long. “You left, Sirius. You left and acted like the rest of us didn’t matter.”
Sirius felt the familiar twist of guilt settle deep in his chest. It wasn’t the first time he’d heard those words. He’d repeated them in his own mind more times than he cared to admit.
“I thought you were better off without me,” Sirius said finally, the admission feeling heavier than he expected. “You were always the good one. You still had… them.” He didn’t say their parents, but the weight of it hung between them anyway. “And you didn’t see to mind it there so much.”
Regulus’ eyes darkened, and Sirius could see the sharp edge of bitterness there, old but not dulled by time.
“You think I wanted to stay?” Regulus' voice dropped lower, but there was no mistaking the resentment threaded through it. “I didn’t stay because I agreed with them. I stayed because I didn’t know how to leave.” And you did it without me.
Sirius’ breath caught at the unspoken words. He opened his mouth to reply, but the words died in his throat.
Regulus shook his head, his expression softening just a fraction. There was a brief pause before either of them spoke again, and when Regulus did, his voice was so soft that it was barely audible. “I hated you for a long time, you know.”
Sirius swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “I know.”
“But it wasn’t because you left.” Regulus hesitated, the tension in his shoulders finally loosening as his voice grew quieter. “It was because you could.”
Sirius’ heart twisted painfully at the admission, the weight of those years pressing down on him all at once.
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” Sirius said, barely more than a whisper.
Regulus looked at him, eyes clearer than they’d been all evening. “Maybe you were. But that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt people.”
The honesty in his voice knocked something loose in Sirius, something he hadn’t realized he’d been holding onto since the day he left Grimmauld Place.
For a long moment, they stood in silence, the snow falling gently around them. It felt like standing at the edge of something fragile as if one wrong word might shatter whatever fragile thread was holding them together.
“I’m sorry,” Sirius said quietly, and for once, he meant it without hesitation.
Regulus didn’t answer right away. He stared out over the snowy yard, lips pressed together in thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer.
“I know.”
And somehow, that felt like enough.
Sirius glanced over at him, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “So… you staying for New Year’s too, or are you going to mysteriously disappear again?”
Regulus huffed, but there was no real bite behind it. “I haven’t decided yet.”
“Well, you should.” Sirius nudged his shoulder lightly. “I’m much more tolerable after a few drinks.”
Regulus arched a brow. “That’s debatable.”
Sirius laughed, the tension finally breaking. For the first time in years, it felt like they weren’t standing on opposite sides of some invisible line.