Part 2
Regulus can’t do this. He can’t watch James’ son be so adorable and creative and not wish that he could see that all the time. Perhaps on the couch one afternoon, cuddled up by James by the fire as they both sip their own hot drinks. Regulus would have tea, and although he doesn’t know what Jame likes, he seems like a hot chocolate person…
Regulus shakes the thought. He can’t have that, he knows he can’t have that. But he still wants it. He can’t believe he still wants it. So much, he almost had to call in sick. He hurt, could barely get out of bed, and then broke down once he had stood up. So, he was late. Terrible. And then, James tried to talk to him. Regulus relives it in his mind, cringing every time. God, he was so awkward. He couldn’t look at James, probably won’t be able to when he comes to pick Harry up.
Which is why he’s only a little relieved when he doesn’t see James at all when the parents come. It’s followed by an overwhelming sense of disappointment, and sadness, when a woman in a flowy maxi dress and flaming red hair comes in. And those eyes, they’re Harry’s.
“Hello. I'm here for Harry.” she says, a soft smile on her face. Mischievous, almost, he can see it in her eyes. Regulus doesn't trust this woman, not one bit. Despite her seemingly innocent clothing, Regulus guesses she is far from innocent.
“Where is James?” Regulus asks, no smile on his face. It may be rude, but he finds he doesn't care all that much.
“He couldn't make it. Said work was keeping him, which is odd. I don't know what's happening there.” Regulus squints, finding it extremely hard to believe. The woman notices, “Don't believe me? I'll show you the message that told me to come pick him up.” The woman does just that, flipping her phone to show James’ contact name, and a few messages discussing her picking up Harry.
“Alright then.” Regulus doesn't like this. He doesn't know why, either. Just that he doesn't like that this woman has custody over Harry. Nonetheless, he calls the child over, who looks and beams at the woman.
“Lils!” He screeches, running up to this… Lils with his arms outstretched. Lils laughs, picking him up instantly with a wide smile on her face.
Lils looks at him, an eyebrow raised, and Regulus can feel his face flush in shame. “Well, how exactly do you know Harry? Good friends with the parents?”
She laughs, “I am a parent. His mother. Couldn’t you tell?” She holds Harry up to her face, and there’s no doubt. They are biologically related. It makes Regulus’ blood boil, a sudden emotion like he wants to hurt this woman. He can’t doubt what that feeling is, either. Jealousy. She has what he wants. He hates it.
“Okay. You have a nice day…Lils.” Regulus tries to have a pleasant tone, to seem like he would be civil towards Lils, however annoyed he is at her. The name feels weird on Regulus’ tongue, like it shouldn't be there. And Regulus knows exactly why, as well.
Lils laughs, “That's just what Harry calls me. I’m Lily. And you have a nice day too, Mr. Reggie.” Lils — Lily — says his name in a way that suggests something, but it's something Regulus would not like to investigate. Instead he nods, as Lily walks out. Regulus sighs, running a hand quickly down his face. The thought pops up of how LIly knows his name, but he guesses that Harry discloses that information when he gets home and wraps up in his mother’s arms… who he also calls “Lils” and not any parental name.
Don’t you fucking dare get your hopes up, Regulus Black.
“And who the hell was that?” Pandora asks, startling him, before angering him. Really, it was annoyance. But anger has much better rewards.
“Oh my Lord, can you leave me alone for two… freaking seconds?” Regulus grumbles, careful not to curse with the children around. He turns around, seeing a confused yet mischievous — God, he’s getting tired of that word — look on her face.
“Who was that? Cause it wasn’t your husband.” Pandora teases. Regulus rolls his eyes, annoyed now at how his face heats up. He hates this. He hates that Pandora knows. He hates that she continues to tease him. And fuck does he hate that she always gets a reaction out of him.
“I…” Regulus crosses his arms, huffing an annoyed breath. Of course, she catches him at a time where he can’t curse her out. At least, not out loud. “She’s Harry’s… mum. Said James was stuck in the office and she had to come get Harry. She seemed… sweet. Good for him.”
There’s a beat of silence, followed by Pandora exclaiming, “So he was straight!”
“Why were you assuming he wasn’t?” Regulus groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I should be the one hoping and praying. And apparently, that didn’t even matter.” Regulus can hear the disappointment in his voice, and he curses his stupid heart. He knew this was going to happen. He knew James was straight, possibly married. So why is he so disappointed? He shouldn’t be. This happens all the time, he just needs to get over it.
“It just takes time. You know this. You’ll get over him in two weeks. Max.” Pandora tells him. He gives her a look, although it conveys both annoyance and thanks. Because he is thankful for her. Reminding him, he needs that. But also, he doesn’t want to get over James. He wants to stay with James. Fuck his stupid, utterly annoying feelings. He truly could not hate them more at this moment.
At this point, Pandora has waved goodbye and is truly gone. And the other group is walking in. He takes a breath, trying to regain his composure, before going to greet the other students.
The next class is quite a jump from the small children. Grade 10's, that are all really quite good at art. Some of them he's known since they were four, some came in this year. Either way, he absolutely adores every single one of them. He sees himself in most of them, especially a shy girl named Kathryn Levitt. She has, honestly, some of the best talent in the class, and she was so passionate about art too. He always greets her with pleasure, and the smile on her face always makes his day. No matter how shitty it was before.
“Okay, settle down everyone.” He announces to the classroom. The chattering slowly stops as people realize the class is starting, all turning their attention to Regulus. “It’s portrait day!” He smiles, and the reactions are as he predicted. Excitement. “Now, we’ve been focusing on proportions and realism, so I thought it would be nice to give it a try, with your own face…” He continues to explain the project, how they’re supposed to choose a photo of themselves to recreate, that they can use any medium they please, and that they have two weeks to have it fully completed. He dismissed them to start, allowing them to find inspiration in any sort of photo that contains their face in it. He walks around, looking at a few of the students, talking excitedly with their friends about what
they’re going to do for the project. He smiles, once again feeling an overwhelming sense of joy from watching students so young stay so passionate about art.
He hears the students yelling about every different type of medium. He hears colored pencils, many different types of paint, oil pastels, and so many others. To be frank, he is quite impressed with some of the students' ability to use utensils Regulus has never been the best at. To put in it the best words, he almost feels like a proud father. He’s so happy to see the smiles on the children’s faces, to see how happy they are. To see how far they’ve come, it’s quite a pleasant sensation. He loves this, so very much.
All too soon, the class ends. At this point, almost every student has picked out both a picture and the medium to which they are going to recreate the picture, waving goodbye to their teacher as they’re parents come and pick them up. He waves too, smiling as he lets them go, excitedly blabbering to their parents about the project.
The next class is full of Grade 7’s, the ones constantly talking and asking him questions that rarely have to do with the project at hand. They come rushing in, already gossiping and catching up. Laughing, and already filling the small classroom with loads of noise. It takes Regulus back to when he was their age, full of both happy and sad memories. He pushes the sad ones away, mostly, instead thinking of the connections he made and some of the experiences he can still remember clearly to this day.
“Okay, eyes up here please!” He grabs the attention of most of the students, looking at him with young eyes and bright smiles, “Now, can anybody tell me what we worked on last class?”
A girl with short, curly brown hair shoots her hand high in the sky, along with at least half the class.. Liv, or Livinia, always eager to answer. He laughs as he answers, “Yes, Liv?”
She smiles before shouting out, “Side-profiles!” as quickly as possible. He smiles at her eagerness, nodding.
“Yes, that is correct. Now, what technique did we use?” Regulus asks next, and less hands go up, and he decidedly calls on Charlie. A boy with longer ginger hair, and plenty of freckles on his face. “The shapes! A trapezoid for the face, triangle for the nose, circle for the head and oval for the eye!”
“That is correct, Charlie. Thank you.” Regulus laughs, “today we will be continuing the journey, adding the details, such as the nose and eye, and shadows.” He watches as the students excitedly chatter with their friends for a moment, before Regulus calls them back, “Okay, flip open to the page we started on, it should look something like this.” He pulls up his own sketchbook, showing them his partially completed side profile. It’s exactly as Charlie described it, just a bunch of shapes.
“Now, the face is very flat. Especially right here.” He points to the line, where the nose and overall silhouette of the face should go. “Now, look at my profile. Does it look very flat to you?” There’s a chorus of varying answers, all saying no, “Exactly. My forehead isn’t flat, I have a nose, my lips jut out a bit, and so does my chin.” He turns back to the front, “That, my friends, is what you will be copying. The simple shape. I will be helping, walking you through it and guiding you through any questions.” He sees each of them, so excited, and smiles before continuing.
“Alright, it can be hard to explain, but I will try my best, while showing you.” Regulus explains, before jumping in, “Now, using the circle as your guide, draw this sort of curved line, just outside of the straight line, connecting it to the bridge of your nose, like this.” He shows, using his years of practice to precisely copy the action, “Alright, simple, yeah? Now, for the nose, curve the point, to make it look more realistic.” He does so, flawlessly, waiting for everyone to copy, “Now, the lips are always the hardest, trying to make them not look puckered. The top lip should have more of a point, or at least that’s what I always see. The bottom lip should be a little more curved, a little fuller, and slowly fall back to that straight line.” He draws, brain working quickly to try and figure out how to describe what he’s doing. “Finally, we curve the straight line, to where it is in line with where the lips jut out, before curving again to make the chin. This then gets brought up to the jaw, and that is the basic silhouette.”
He gets up, beginning to walk around and look over the students, who are slowly finishing up. He’s almost impressed at the talent, by how good some of these first sketches are. As he makes his way around, surprised at how quiet the classroom was, he continues.
“Are we all finished? It looks like it. Now, we can focus on details…” He continues to explain, in as much detail as he can, how to draw the eyes, the ear placement, the hair, and even some fun things you can add, such as glasses and…
Suddenly James Potter is staring back at him. Shit. He tries not to blush, or show it, at least. But his students, especially these ones, always catch on, starting to giggle and whisper to their friends. He feels like hitting himself, for not being able to watch what he was doing. He was stupid, always got lost when drawing. And suddenly, his feelings are poured out, shown to a bunch of 12-year-olds.
One of his students speaks up in a giggly voice, “Who is that, Mr. Reggie?”
“Oh, no one…” Regulus tries, but he gets overwhelmed by a lot more laughter and accusations thrown at him. He tries to answer, “Really, just a— a random person I…”
“You’re blushing, Mr. Reggie.” One of them points out, which only causes his face to heat up more. He curses his feelings, and yet he can’t help but let a small smirk creep up on his face as accusations are shot out.
“Is it your husband?”
“A boyfriend?”
“Oooo a crush?”
“Fictional?”
“Is it another parent?”
Regulus looks down, chuckling as he tries to keep his emotions in check. He feels his heart pounding, but he feels composed enough to stop the madness. “Alright! We’re supposed to be learning about art, not about your art teacher’s personal life.” He winks, “Anyway…”
He continues to teach about shading, and small little details to make the picture look more realistic than it actually is. He tries not to think about how with each shade, James comes more and more to life, and he could be giving this man to every child in here.
Eventually, the class was over, and the parents were arriving. The children were excitedly showing their parents what was being made, while Regulus greeted them and let them know how great their children were to him. He looks up at the clock, noticing the two hours he has for a break before his next class, as well as his lunch break. He texts Pandora, asking her if she could make it to their favorite restaurant, a Mexican one that’s close to the school, and finds that she is in fact free for this time he has to eat. He excitedly makes his way over, ready to tell Pandora all of the insanity he’s gotten himself into today.
***
The first thing Regulus tells Pandora when she walks in is how he practically revealed himself to all of his Grade 7 class. She instantly starts laughing, basking in Regulus’ embarrassment before asking, “What did they do when you drew him?”
“Started guessing who he was.” Regulus groans.
“We’re you obvious?”
“No!”
“Well, were you blushing as much as you are now?”
Regulus feels the blood in his cheeks, a flush coming up from under his shirt. “Shut up.” He huffs out a breath, “They don’t know exactly who he is. His name, or that he’s a parent…” He throws his head in his hands, thinking of how dramatic of a turn his life has made this past week. Week, it’s been one week of this torture. How is he supposed to last however long Harry wants to stay in the class? He can’t think about it, he really can’t. He
tries to tell himself, over and over again, that this has happened before and he will get over it. But, this time almost feels different. And he hates that. And he’s scared. Of what that could have in store for him.
“Hello? Reg? Your food is going to get cold.” Pandora waves a hand in Regulus’ face, breaking him from his spiral of thoughts. He smiles, looking down at the food that has magically appeared in front of him. He truly doesn’t remember when it got there.
“I— yes, of course.” Regulus smiles, reaching with his fork to take a bite. “Sorry, I assume I zoned out. There’s just… a lot on my mind right now.” He laughs, looking down. When he looks up again, Pandora has a look of concern on her face. Regulus starts to feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny of which she’s observing him.
She stays this way, silently analyzing him, before saying in a soft voice, “I know I’ve been teasing you a lot. And I haven’t made things much easier but you’ve gone off in your own world a lot more often. Are you okay? Actually, not in a joking way, or a fake way. Genuinely, how are you?”
Regulus, screw him, can feel his eyes start to prick with tears that he desperately tries to blink away. And the worst part is, he has no idea why he’s so overcome with sadness. His life is at an all-time high. Well, better than it used to be. Except for James. James, the worst flaw in his life. James, the man who makes him go utterly insane. James, so far off the table Regulus doesn’t know why he even dreams of their future together. James, James, James…
“It’s hard.” Regulus chokes out after a while, a lump forming in his throat, “Having to lose feelings for someone simply because they don’t feel the same — and never will. It’s hard, that’s all. And it hurts sometimes. I wish sometimes that I wouldn’t feel this way, that everything would be fine and I would be healed magically. But that won’t happen. I have to go the hard way, and it’s sort of miserable.”
When he sees Pandora, so worried and grieving for him, he can’t help but add, “But nothing I can’t handle. It’ll happen soon enough. And then, I won’t feel this way. It just takes time. Always has, always will.”
“Are you sure?” Pandora wonders.
“Of course.”
They spend the rest of the time in silence