THE KISS
The week of exams arrived, and Regulus found himself buried under piles of books and parchment, his focus wavering with every passing thought of James. Every time he tried to concentrate on his studies, his mind wandered back to that night in the Astronomy Tower, to the soft press of James’s lips against his hand. It was maddening. He felt as though he was losing his grip on reality, and he wasn’t sure what would be worse: seeing James and spiraling further, or not seeing him at all.
For now, he took solace in the latter. The distance provided a reprieve, even if it left him feeling strangely hollow.
Back in the Slytherin dormitory one evening, Regulus sat cross-legged on his bed with a textbook in his lap, half-heartedly skimming through his notes. Rosier was seated at his desk, scribbling furiously into his notebook, muttering about needing to outscore a Ravenclaw in Charms. Barty, on the other hand, was sprawled on the couch, a glossy magazine held up to his face as he flipped lazily through its pages.
“You know,” Regulus started, his voice tentative as he glanced between his two friends, “James said something to me the other night… about how we used to be close.”
Barty didn’t even look up, his attention still on the magazine. “Well, he’s not wrong,” he said offhandedly, flipping a page. “You two were practically inseparable.”
Regulus blinked in surprise. “We were?”
“Mm-hmm,” Barty hummed, still absorbed in his reading. “Always whispering, always sneaking off to talk. Kind of nauseating, actually.”
Rosier, who had been silent up until now, suddenly looked up from his notes. “He’s right. I always thought it was odd when Potter started dating Lily.”
Regulus frowned, his heart skipping a beat. “Why?”
Rosier shrugged casually, his quill pausing mid-sentence. “I just… I don’t know. Figured you two would end up together.”
Barty snorted from the couch, finally lowering his magazine to glance at Rosier. “Honestly, same. It made more sense than Lily, if you ask me.”
Regulus’s mouth went dry. The thought hit him like a hex to the chest. Me and James? Together?
He tried to mask the sudden rush of emotions. “Well, that’s ridiculous,” he muttered, looking down at his book.
“Is it, though?” Barty teased, a sly grin on his face.
“Yes,” Regulus snapped, a little too quickly.
The conversation fizzled out after that, Rosier returning to his notes and Barty flipping his magazine back open. But Regulus couldn’t focus anymore. Their words echoed in his mind, intertwining with his own thoughts and feelings.
Of course, he had always dreamed of something like that; James Potter choosing him. But those were fantasies born of a different time and place, of the James he had known in his timeline. That James had been so perfect to him, so untouchable.
This James, however, was different. Warmer. Closer. And it wasn’t just the casual touches or the easy smiles, it was how he looked at Regulus, how he spoke to him. This James didn’t seem to care about the perfect Regulus he had tried so hard to be in the past. He cared about this Regulus, the version of himself that had always felt like an imposter in this strange new timeline.
And that thought depressed him more than he wanted to admit. Because if James liked this Regulus, then what did that mean for him?
Regulus sighed, closing his book and leaning back against his headboard. He couldn’t stop himself from wishing he still had the time turner, even if it was reckless and foolish. He longed to go back, to fix things, to undo whatever had caused this mess.
Maybe then, he thought bitterly, I wouldn’t feel so out of place in my own life.
...
The sun was warm against Regulus’s face as he sat cross-legged under the sprawling oak tree. Barty was leaning back on his elbows, sunglasses perched on his nose, looking entirely too pleased with himself. Rosier was busy charming a small blade of grass to hover in the air, his focus sharp despite the relaxed atmosphere. Lily sat beside James, her head resting on his shoulder, chatting animatedly with Mary that was stretched out nearby, lying on her stomach, doodling lazily in the margins of her notebook. Dorcas and Marlene were in their own little world, leaning against the tree trunk with Marlene’s arm draped casually around Dorcas’s shoulders and Remus in the opposite side of the tree trunk was reading a book while Peter napping by his side.
It was peaceful, almost surreal. Regulus tried to soak it in, letting himself forget, if only for a moment, the tangled mess of feelings and regrets that had plagued him for weeks.
“Did everyone get their results yet?”
Sirius’s voice broke through the calm as he approached, his sleeves rolled up, his hair tied back in a messy bun that screamed effortless charm. He looked smug as he strode up to the group, hands shoved casually in his pockets.
James grinned lazily. “Yeah, we did. How’d you do?”
Lily, ever the overachiever, chimed in. “I got Outstandings in all my subjects.”
“Of course you did,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes playfully. “No one’s surprised, Evans.”
“And you?” James asked, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me you got anything higher than Acceptable, Pads. That’d be a miracle.”
Sirius stopped in front of the group and spread his arms dramatically. “Well, dear Prongs, prepare to be astounded. I got an Acceptable in Potions!”
James snorted. “You’re proud of that? It’s barely passing.”
“Exactly!” Sirius said, plopping down with a grin. “I was fully prepared to get a Troll in Potions. Slughorn has hated me since fifth year. This is a bloody victory!”
Laughing, he tossed himself onto Remus’s lap. Remus, ever the patient and doting boyfriend, took one look at the parchment and beamed.
“Well done, Pads,” Remus said, his voice warm. He reached out, ruffling Sirius’s hair affectionately. “I’m proud of you.”
Sirius grinned, and before anyone could say a word, Remus began peppering kisses all over Sirius’s face. One on his cheek, another on his forehead, then his nose. Sirius laughed, trying to pull away, but he didn’t seem to be trying very hard.
“Moony! You’re going to embarrass me!”
“That’s the idea,” Remus replied, clearly unbothered.
Watching them, Regulus could hardly believe his eyes. He wasn’t sure what was more surprising—the fact that Sirius had managed to pass Potions, or the fact that he was letting himself be this open and vulnerable.
It was disgustingly cute, if Regulus was being honest. He felt an odd mix of embarrassment and... pride? For his brother, who had spent most of his life hiding his feelings behind walls of bravado and rebellion, this version of Sirius was unrecognizable. Carefree, happy, loved.
In Regulus’s timeline, everyone had known Sirius and Remus were pining for each other. It had been obvious, in the way they bickered like an old married couple and shared lingering looks when they thought no one was watching. But they had never admitted it, not even to themselves. Sirius, especially, had been defensive and cruel whenever Regulus had so much as hinted at the possibility.
But here, things were different. Sirius had allowed himself to be vulnerable. To love, and to be loved.
Lily shifted slightly, tucking her legs beneath her as she looked at Sirius. "So, what are your plans after graduation, Sirius? Anything exciting?"
Sirius leaned back on his hands, his usual smirk playing on his lips. "Oh, absolutely. I’ve got it all planned out. Remus and I are moving into a flat in London, perfect little spot near Diagon Alley. And, I’ll be applying for a job at the Ministry."
Lily raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking in amusement. "The Ministry? I thought you were planning to try for the Auror programme."
Sirius snorted. "Weren’t you here when I said I got an Acceptable in Potions? That’s barely good enough to pass, let alone qualify for Auror training."
The group burst into laughter, and even Lily couldn’t help but giggle. "Fair point. You’d probably set the place on fire trying with in the first 5 minutes."
Sirius grinned proudly. "Exactly. Why would I subject myself, or anyone else for that matter, to that kind of torture?"
Regulus, however, felt his amusement falter. The news that Sirius and Remus were moving in together hit him like a brick. He couldn’t picture how their mother would react to this. The thought of her fury, the possibility of her burning Sirius’s portrait at Grimmauld Place, made him uneasy. He stayed silent, his mind racing.
Before he could spiral too far, James chimed in, stretching his arms over his head. "Well, some of us still plan to try for the Auror programme, potions grades and all." He winked at Sirius.
Lily beamed at James, nudging him playfully. "And I’m certain you’ll get in, Potter. You’ve always been annoyingly brilliant at Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Regulus’s stomach flipped at the exchange. He couldn’t explain why hearing Lily praise James so confidently made him feel so off-kilter, but it was undeniable. He cast a glance at James, who was smiling warmly at Lily, and felt a pang of something he couldn’t quite name, jealousy? Longing? It didn’t matter. It was all too much, and yet, it wasn’t enough.
...
The last week of term passed in a blur of laughter, nostalgia, and stolen moments. Sirius threw himself into the final days at Hogwarts with a reckless abandon that only he could muster. He dragged the Marauders to every secret hideout, reminisced about their pranks, and laughed until tears filled his eyes.
For the Marauders, Hogwarts wasn’t just a school, it was home, a place where they’d grown from naive boys into the people they were now. The reality of leaving weighed heavily on all of them, but Sirius felt it most keenly. Regulus watched from the sidelines, taking in his brother’s laughter and easy smiles, unable to shake the feeling that this was the last time Sirius could afford to be so carefree.
On the final night before summer holidays, the castle was unusually quiet. Most students were packing or saying their goodbyes, but Regulus found himself climbing the familiar staircase to the Astronomy Tower. The open air and the endless expanse of stars had always been a solace to him, a place to untangle the knots of his thoughts.
But tonight, there was no solace. He sat on the cold stone floor, his knees pulled up to his chest, staring blankly at the constellations above. His mind churned with worry. He had never been home in this timeline. What would his parents expect from him? What would they be like? He thought of Sirius and felt a pang of dread.
His parents would surely be furious with Sirius, and Regulus could already feel the weight of the punishment Sirius would face. Even without having returned, he could anticipate the sharp sting of his father’s wrath and the cold disdain of his mother’s words. The oppressive fear settled deep in his chest, making it impossible to concentrate on the stars he loved so much.
The soft sound of footsteps broke through his thoughts, and Regulus turned, startled. At first, he saw nothing, but then, a familiar face emerged as James pulled off his invisibility cloak.
James stood there for a moment, taking him in. His usually easy expression softened as their eyes met, and he crossed the distance between them without a word. There was no need for one. Whatever James saw in Regulus’s face, it was enough to tell him everything.
Regulus shifted uncomfortably under James’s gaze, torn between the desire to look away and the strange comfort James’s presence brought. The air between them was thick with unspoken words.
James didn’t hesitate. He crossed the Astronomy Tower in a few quick strides and crouched down in front of Regulus,. His hazel eyes, so full of concern, searched Regulus’s face.
“What happened?” James asked softly, his voice so gentle it almost broke Regulus further.
Regulus didn’t answer. He couldn’t. His thoughts were a tangled mess, spiraling from the suffocating fear of returning home, to the inevitable confrontations with Walburga and Orion, to the gnawing realization that he wouldn’t see James anymore after Hogwarts. There was too much, and no words could do it justice.
Instead, he turned his face away, hoping James wouldn’t notice the fresh tear slipping down his cheek. But James did.
Without saying anything else, James sat beside him and pulled him into an embrace. It was firm yet careful, as though he was trying to shield Regulus from whatever was weighing on him. Regulus stiffened at first, unused to such affection, but then something in him unraveled. He let himself lean into James, resting his head against James’s shoulder.
They stayed like that in silence for what felt like hours, the only sounds the distant rustle of leaves and the occasional whistle of wind through the tower. Regulus tried to gather his thoughts, to untangle the overwhelming dread and articulate it, but every time he started to speak, the words caught in his throat.
Finally, James broke the silence, his voice low. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But... I’m here.”
Regulus swallowed hard, his voice barely audible. “I don’t know how to go back there.”
James pulled back slightly, just enough to look at Regulus without letting him go. “Home?”
Regulus nodded, his gaze fixed on the floor. “If you can even call it that.”
James frowned but didn’t press. Instead, he said, “You’re not alone, Reg. I know it might feel like it, but you’re not. You’ve got Sirius, and—” He hesitated, then added softly, “You’ve got me.”
Regulus looked up at him, caught off guard by the sincerity in James’s voice. For a moment, he wanted to believe it, to cling to the idea that someone as warm and steadfast as James could be in his corner.
They stayed in silence after that, the kind that felt heavy and intimate, as though the world had momentarily shrunk to just the two of them. The night air was cool, and the stars above seemed brighter than ever, casting faint silver light over them. Regulus let the quiet stretch on, finding it strangely comforting to simply exist in the same space as James without any expectations or demands.
“Regulus,” James said softly after a long while.
Something about the way James said his name, gentle, almost reverent, made Regulus look up. When their eyes met, the world seemed to hold its breath. Time slowed, the distance between them shrinking even though neither of them moved.
James’s gaze was searching, his hazel eyes flicking over Regulus’s face as if committing every detail to memory. Regulus felt his heart race, unsure of what was happening but unable to look away.
And then, without warning, James leaned in.
The kiss was soft, hesitant, like a question neither of them had dared to ask until now. It lasted only a heartbeat, but it was enough to send Regulus’s world spinning. His lips burned with the imprint of James’s, and for the first time in what felt like forever, everything else, the fear, the dread, the uncertainty, faded into the background.
But then James pulled back, and the spell broke. His face was pale, his eyes wide with horror at what he’d just done.
“I—I shouldn’t have done that,” James stammered, standing abruptly and taking several steps back. He ran a hand through his messy hair, his voice thick with regret. “Regulus, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking. That was—it’s not right.”
Regulus blinked, still frozen in place, unable to form a single word as James’s apologies tumbled out.
“I shouldn’t have—” James’s voice cracked, and he grabbed his invisibility cloak with trembling hands. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”
Before Regulus could process what was happening, before he could say anything, James had thrown the cloak over himself and disappeared into the night, leaving him alone on the Astronomy Tower.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Regulus sat there, his body tense and his mind racing. The weight of what had just happened hit him all at once, and he felt tears slipping down his cheeks. He didn’t bother wiping them away this time.
He felt horrible—like he’d been ripped apart and put back together wrong. His chest ached with a strange mix of emotions: confusion, longing, guilt, and a sharp, all-consuming sadness. He pressed his hands against his face, trying to stop the tears, but they kept coming.
For the first time in years, he wanted to disappear. To escape from everything, his feelings, his fears, and now this moment that had shattered what little stability he had left.