THE PARTY
Regulus sat on the couch in the Gryffindor common room, surrounded by the noise and chaos of the party. His thoughts were as muddled as the scene unfolding around him: Sirius was snogging Remus in a hidden corner, their heads barely visible behind a pile of half-empty cups. Rosier and Barty sat with their backs against another nearby couch, their faces flushed from the firewhiskey they’d downed. They exchanged words that might have been insults—or love vows; with those two, it was impossible to tell. Regulus could barely hear them over the music.
He hadn’t wanted to come to this party. But when Sirius had extended the invitation, Regulus hadn’t been able to refuse. Rosier and Barty had jumped in before he could say a word, and here he was, a silent observer in the middle of the chaos.
“Reggie, you look like you’re in pain,” Barty teased, sloshing his drink in Regulus’s face. “Having fun?”
Regulus didn’t respond. He was barely aware of the conversation anymore, the noise and heat of the room making him feel disconnected from the world. He stared at his shoes, his hands gripping the edges of the couch, wishing he could be anywhere else. The laughter around him felt alien, his head heavy with thoughts of what he was running from: James.
That was when James, practically tripping over himself in his drunken state, plopped onto the couch next to him. Regulus froze, his body tense with the sudden proximity. James looked over at him, a wide grin on his face, as if his presence had been some sort of cosmic coincidence.
James sighed loudly, tilting his head back against the cushions. “Long day, huh?” he said with a goofy smile. “You look like you could use a drink.” He pulled out a flask, offering it to Regulus with a slightly tipsy sway.
Regulus shook his head quickly, declining. “I’m good,” he muttered, trying to keep his voice steady.
James chuckled, the sound warm, but his eyes never left Regulus. "Come on, mate, you're not still sulking about being stuck in Slytherin, are you?" He nudged Regulus's shoulder with his. "I promise it’s not as bad as you think."
Regulus laughed softly, not sure if he was laughing at James’s attempt at humor or at how little he understood. He watched James, trying to keep his gaze casual, but the sight of him—looking so relaxed, so open—was a constant reminder of what Regulus couldn't have.
Regulus caught sight of James' glasses slipping down his nose and smiled. Regulus’s heart squeezed at the sight.
“Do you ever stop talking?” Regulus teased, trying to push the growing tension down.
James, ever the good sport, laughed. "I could say the same to you, mate, but I’m trying to be polite. No promises, though." He gave Regulus a sly wink, his tipsy eyes twinkling with mischief.
For a moment, Regulus almost forgot why he was here, almost forgot about the heavy thoughts pressing down on him. James, with all his warmth and humor, had a way of making everything seem lighter. It was easy to laugh around him, easy to feel like maybe—just maybe—things could be normal.
But then James's tone shifted, his expression growing more serious. He leaned in a little closer, and Regulus immediately froze again.
"Regulus," James began, his voice quieter now, the warmth from earlier replaced by something else—something softer. "I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Can I?"
Regulus’s stomach did a strange flip, but he masked it with a tight smile. "You already asked, James," he said lightly, hoping his voice didn’t betray him.
James’s grin was crooked, a little embarrassed. "Right. Another then." He paused, staring at Regulus for a long moment before speaking again. "Why do you seem so distant? You’re always around, but you never really are around. It’s like… like you’re hiding from me. I mean, we’re friends, right?" He looked at Regulus, as if waiting for an answer.
Regulus swallowed hard. The question hung between them like a delicate thread, too fragile to touch. It felt too much like a confession, like James could see the truth if Regulus wasn’t careful. His heart was pounding, his thoughts scrambled.
"I..." Regulus started, but his voice faltered. He clenched his jaw, trying to push the words down. "I don’t know what you mean."
James tilted his head, a curious, almost sad look crossing his face. “You do, though. I can tell.” He paused again, his voice lowering just a fraction. “I just wish you’d tell me what’s going on. It’s hard to be your friend when you keep hiding everything.”
Regulus forced himself to meet James’s gaze, his chest tightening. He couldn’t tell him, not the truth. Not yet. Not ever. He looked away, forcing a lighthearted smile to his lips. “Maybe I’m just antisocial, huh?”
James didn’t look convinced, but he shrugged and leaned back, finishing his drink with a huff. “Maybe. But I miss your laugh, Reg. You don’t laugh enough anymore.”
Regulus's heart gave a painful jolt. He missed laughing too, but what did it matter if the person he wanted to share those laughs with was the very one he couldn’t have?
Before he could say anything else, the laughter and clinking of glasses seemed to grow louder, the world outside of James’s gaze spinning back into focus. Regulus exhaled slowly, unsure whether the pressure in his chest was from the conversation or the weight of his own feelings.
The music then changed and was a slow ballad begin to play, the kind that made everyone drift closer to one another. Regulus felt his heart sink, the weight of the night pressing down on him.
Before Regulus could fully process the shift, Barty appeared with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You know," Barty said, voice low and teasing, "this is the perfect moment."
Regulus raised an eyebrow. "What moment?"
"You’re going to dance," Barty replied simply, grabbing Regulus's arm before he could protest.
"I’m not—" Regulus started to argue, but Barty was already dragging him to the middle of the room.
Before Regulus could fully comprehend what was happening, Barty had pushed him into an awkward two-step with him, pulling him close in a way that made his nose bump on Barty's ear every couple of steps.
"Play along," Barty whispered, a grin curling on his lips as he spun Regulus into the slow rhythm. "Trust me, there’s something about you and me that’s going to make people talk. They’ll be jealous."
Regulus glanced around, trying to spot anyone watching them, but it was impossible to ignore the growing intensity of the gaze from across the room. James. He was still in the couch, his gaze locked onto Regulus. It was impossible to read, but the weight of it pressed down on Regulus like a phantom touch.
James’s eyes flicked away, but not before Regulus saw the flash of something. Regulus felt his heart rate spike as his palms began to sweat. He couldn’t make sense of it. Why did it feel like every step he took was pulling him closer to something he wasn’t ready to face?
Barty continued to dance, oblivious to Regulus’s internal turmoil. "You’re good at this, Reg," he teased, spinning him around, his hand landing on Regulus’s lower back, guiding him effortlessly through the steps.
Regulus kept his eyes on the ground, his thoughts swirling. Was Barty right? Was this how he was supposed to behave in this reality? The slow song continued to play, swirling around him like a cloud of dissonant emotions. There was the undeniable pull of James's presence, the sense of familiarity he couldn't ignore. Regulus couldn’t decide if he should stay lost in the dance with Barty or try to find a way to escape the gaze of someone who made him feel like his world was on the verge of unraveling.
It was all too much.
As the song came to a close, the room seemed to exhale in unison, the slow, intimate atmosphere dissolving into the usual buzz of laughter and clinking glasses. Regulus stepped back from Barty, his chest rising and falling with an unfamiliar intensity. His mind was spinning, the rhythm of the dance still pulsing in his veins, mixing with the way James’s eyes had lingered on him just a moment ago. It felt like the world around him was spinning a little too fast.
Barty grinned, slapping him on the back. "Brilliant, Regulus!" he said, a little too loudly for Regulus’s liking. "I didn’t know you had it in you."
Regulus shook his head, trying to steady himself. He didn’t know how to respond. The dizziness was getting worse, his vision blurring at the edges. "I—I think I need to sit down," he muttered, a hand pressing to his forehead as the room seemed to sway around him.
"No worries," Barty replied, immediately catching on. "We’ll get you out of here. You need some rest anyway." He looked to Rosier, who was standing nearby, clearly already a bit drunk. "We’re heading back to Slytherin, right? Let’s go."
Regulus barely nodded, feeling like his legs might give out beneath him, but the moment he agreed, Barty and Rosier were already on their way, laughing loudly as they made their way toward the door. The sounds of the party faded behind them, and Regulus let out a slow breath, focusing on keeping his steps steady.
Regulus managed a tired smile, still feeling the lingering dizziness. He wasn’t sure if it was from the dancing or the mix of emotions that had taken over him since stepping into this strange new world. The laughter from his friends felt distant now, like it was happening in a separate world. He longed for the familiar, quiet comfort of his dorm, his own space where he could breathe without feeling like he was suffocating under the weight of everything he was trying to hide.
As they reached the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Regulus felt a sharp pang of exhaustion. "I think I just need to lie down," he murmured, voice soft.
Barty grinned. "Rest up, mate. We’ll get you some water, maybe some firewhiskey next time." He winked playfully before disappearing into the common room, followed by Rosier’s teasing laughter.
Regulus stumbled inside, finally allowing himself to fall onto one of the couches, his mind still racing. The party felt so far away now, a distant memory. The dizzying mix of emotions, the strange closeness he’d felt with Barty and his confused feelings toward James, he just wanted it all to stop for a moment.
He closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would take him far away from this world, if only for a little while.