Sleigh, What?!
After a flurry of congratulations from James’s parents and the Fawleys, James happily wrote out a fat cheque to donate, as per tradition for the winners.
The representative from St Mungo’s blinked owlishly at the cheque slip in her hands. “Did yo— Is this— Did you mean to put so many zeros on the end?”
James dipped his head to check his writing. “No, yes, that’s correct.”
She gaped at him, visibly flustered, and held the paper gingerly like she was terrified to damage it. “This— This is very generous! Thank you! The foundation thanks you!”
He shrugged easily. “It’s a worthy cause.” It wasn’t like he’d miss the money. He had more galleons in his bank vaults than any seventeen-year-old could possibly need.
Marshall sidled up to him. “I’m planning a stroll through the stalls. Care to join me?” He held out a formal arm and James was reminded yet again how surrounded on all sides he was by Pureblood culture.
Taking it, and feeling minorly strange settling into the witch’s part of the hold, James smiled at him. “Sure. I want to spend some more money.”
The woman choked quietly.
Marshall grinned. “Anything for the kids, right?”
James nodded a polite farewell at the charity rep. “Do let me know if you need anything else. Is there any paperwork I have to sign?”
She hastily shook her head, still cradling the cheque carefully. “No, no. Though… you may get an inquiry from Gringotts to confirm you want to spend this much.”
Curious, Marshall leaned over to behold the cheque. He whistled lowly. “No wonder everyone wants you.”
James blinked, confused. “What?”
Marshall patted his arm twice, turning back to smile prettily at him. “Never you mind. Shall we?”
“Alright then.”
So off they went. They weaved through the stalls, marvelling at the wares. Bites of mind-meltingly delicious foods, exquisite jewellery pieces that shone and glittered in the sun, as well as peculiar and inventive products that had James poking the seller’s minds to find out more. Marshall was a pleasant conversationalist, the two of them chattering lightly and giggling together as they bantered about oddities or tried on strange garments simply for a laugh. James found he quite liked the bloke — Marshall seemed a very curious person, asking a litany of personal questions that James sometimes hesitated to answer, but when Marshall relaxed the interrogation a bit, he was really quite funny and easy to get along with.
They wandered through the stalls, purchasing a few delicacies to snack upon as well as a pocket full of trinkets. In his head, James was using the opportunity to gift-hunt for Regulus. Christmas was only two days away, and James still didn’t have anything. In hindsight, though, it was probably the course of fate’s path that meant the gift would only find him now.
They were perusing a jewellery stall when James spotted it, his focus narrowing in.
“It’s better than toujours pur,” Regulus commented absently. “I’ve always hated that.”
“‘Always pure’, right?” James clarified. The boy nodded. “I wonder if it was always about blood purity.”
Regulus visibly paused, fork halfway to his mouth. “You think it might have meant something else originally?”
James shrugged. “You would know better than I would. But my brain jumps to: always pure of heart.”
Unbidden, and just from looking upon the little item glinting innocently in the light, James recalled his conversation with Regulus on the morning of the Solstice. The rhythm of his heart began to pick up a little, thoughts swirling in his mind. This was Regulus. This item was so definitely Regulus, James simply had to get it for him.
He flagged the seller’s attention and didn’t bat an eye at the four-figure price tag, too enraptured by the sight.
Marshall peered at it and hummed appreciatively. “Someone’s getting spoiled. For your mother, I presume?”
Mouth dry, James swallowed, not daring to correct him. No, it wasn’t for his mother. He’d just dropped 9k galleons on a gift for his more-than-likely unrequited crush.
He stowed the box carefully in his pocket and made a lying noise of agreement, then thanked the vendor.
Marshall smiled again. “You’re a very generous person, you know. You’re practically going to fund the children’s ward on your own.”
James forced himself to laugh. “I sincerely doubt that. Though I’m happy to help.”
Something caught Marshall’s attention and he tugged James away to a new stall. James let it happen, his head still spinning.
*
That night, at the Nott Ball, James dressed in deep scarlet robes and flitted about the ballroom, chatting with everyone and anyone who crossed his path. As had become their new normal, Regulus was at his side the whole time, adorned in robes of the most gorgeous midnight blue shade and looking like a vision that had James all but drooling.
They pretty much had a system by now, only three balls into their first season together, where James would lead the introductions, luring people in and charming them with his generally sociable demeanour, before Regulus shone by directing the conversation towards the optimal topics and skirting masterfully away from matters that were better avoided. Sometimes, Regulus would lean up and whisper little factoids in his ear about this scandal, or that political issue, or something in someone’s personal life that would be pertinent for James to know, and every time James found himself inordinately grateful to have the boy there next to him. He couldn’t imagine doing this without him, and knew that he would be stumbling right into awkwardness if he didn’t have Regulus subtly pulling his strings.
They made a great team, James thought. Because whilst James was lacking in context and the right phrasing for his words sometimes, Regulus wouldn’t have the social reach he was achieving without James there. Wouldn’t have the confidence or the energy or the connections to walk up to someone new and start up a conversation. It felt like an equal exchange; James providing what Regulus couldn’t, and vice versa. They worked pretty seamlessly together, and he felt like it was all going well.
Possibly a little too well.
The morning of Christmas Eve, James wandered into the kitchen with his hair wet from a shower, already wide awake after his morning run. He snagged a seat at the kitchen table, swiping at a few droplets of water threatening to run down into his eyes.
“Morning Jamie,” Mum greeted, sliding a plate of bacon and eggs in front of him. He kissed her cheek in thanks, murmuring his morning greetings back and tucking into the meal with relish.
Mum appeared to be bustling about the kitchen, fretting and fussing and clearing up a bit, already having eaten herself, whilst Dad methodically sorted through sheafs of parchment — letters, James noticed — peering at them and frowning in gentle concentration as he read them over. At the same time, the Black brothers were bickering quietly (when were they not bickering, honestly?), as they picked at the last dregs of their breakfast.
“If you would just—”
“Shut up,” Regulus hissed sharply, glowering at his brother over his eggs. “We are not having this conversation. Certainly not here.”
Sirius rolled his eyes, reaching for his pumpkin juice and swirling the cup. “I’m just saying, why can’t you be the brave one for once? You can’t just magically hope that—”
“Shut,” Regulus cut in, his tone absolutely biting, “Up.”
“Reggie—”
“If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it? You’re in the same situation,” he bit back at his brother, which had Sirius shutting his mouth with an audible click. “That’s what I thought.”
“It’s… It’s different for me,” Sirius tried, his gaze dropping down to watch his juice swirl in mesmerising circles. “I— there’s too much at stake for me.”
“Oh, and it won’t be messy at all if things go wrong for me,” Regulus replied pointedly. Sirius winced like that was a fair point.
“Is something wrong?” James asked, not sure if he was overstepping, but worried by the dire way they were talking.
Regulus’s mouth twisted as he took a deep breath in and out, looking away. Sirius met his gaze and gave a tight smile. “Nah, we’re all good.”
“Are you sure?” James pressed delicately. “You know I’m always here to help, right?”
Regulus mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like, “That’s the problem.”
“Pardon?”
Sirius awkwardly cleared his throat. “It’s really fine, mate. Just a sibling disagreement — you know how we get.”
James speared another bite of bacon. “If you say so…”
Clearly attempting to change the topic, Regulus addressed Dad with what James now knew him well enough to recognise as forced lightness. “Hey, Monty. Anything interesting in there?”
“Oh, it’s just courting and betrothal offers,” Dad told him absently, eyes still scanning the letters. “Nothing to worry about.”
Abruptly, James stiffened.
Oddly enough, Regulus did too. “James is already getting marriage offers? I… That’s… so soon.”
Dad sighed and pushed his spectacles up his nose, sitting back up as he let the parchment, he was pouring over flutter down to the tabletop. “It’s not unexpected. I’m more surprised by the number of them and who some of them are from, than the timing of it.”
“Are they really all marriage offers for me?” James eyed the stack of paper in disbelief. “All of them?”
The man’s expression turned a tad teasing. “Yes, all of them.”
“Damn, Prongs,” Sirius grinned. “You’re a hot commodity.”
Heat bloomed at James’s cheeks. He fiddled with his fork and wiggled in his seat. “I… Can I ask… who they’re from?”
Dad huffed a little laugh. “Of course, you can ask. They’re for you.” He started flicking through the pile casually. “First was the Boneses offering a betrothal on behalf of their daughter Amelia — not surprising, we’re allied so it was fairly inevitable. Then, there’s the Parkinsons proposing a courtship for Primrose — I believe she’s five years your senior, so that’s pushing it a bit.”
“More than a bit,” Sirius said, half into his juice, sipping from it.
“Then there’s the Bulstrodes, the Vances, and the Macmillans all with fairly normal courtship proposals. But the Browns and the Rowles are both trying to jump straight into betrothal.”
“Bold,” Regulus commented faintly.
“Indeed,” Dad agreed. “The most interesting one, though, I received this morning. It’s an open offer for betrothal or courtship, whatever they can get. It’s from the Fawleys.”
“They want me to marry Missy?” James blinked, surprised.
“No,” Dad met his gaze, his smile wry, “They want you to marry Marshall.”
James’s jaw dropped.
Sirius nearly choked on his juice, spluttering as it went down the wrong pipe.
Ignoring his brother entirely, and making no move to help, Regulus violently stabbed his fork through his eggs. “Ah. That one, I saw coming.”
“What?” James blurted out, utterly shocked to his core. “How on earth could you see that coming?! I definitely didn’t!”
Regulus’s grip on his fork was so tight, his knuckles had gone white. “He was scoping you out all day yesterday.”
“Scoping me out? What do you mean?”
The boy squinted at James. “I mean, he was scoping you out. He asked you about your attitude towards marriage and kids. Asked about your familial assets. Your career plans. He was trying to see if you were an acceptable suitor and if your life-goals aligned.”
James gaped. “I thought he was just being friendly! I thought he wanted to get to know me!”
“Yes, so he could see if you were a compatible marriage partner,” Regulus gritted out. “You didn’t realise?”
“No!” James rapidly ran this information through his mind, his heart racing in his chest. He could feel himself paling dramatically. “Oh, Merlin — I spent hours with him. Hours. We talked so much. I told him everything he wanted to know. We promenaded arm in arm. Did I…? Did I lead him on?” He turned wide, imploring eyes on Regulus and his father, completely horrified. “Did I fuck up? Did I lead him on? Someone tell me I didn’t lead him on!”
Dad exchanged a look with his wife across the kitchen. “You didn’t lead him on, Jamie. Unless you explicitly told him you were looking to enter a courtship or a betrothal with him.”
“I didn’t!”
“Then, it’s fine,” Dad soothed. “I’ll just send the Fawleys the same message I’m sending everyone else: that you’re not looking to court or marry right now but are flattered by the offer.”
“It’s all good, mate,” Sirius managed, still catching his breath. “No harm, no foul.”
“I just—” James was still bewildered by this whole thing. “I thought I was making a new friend.”
Regulus scowled at his eggs. “The minute you admitted to being queer, he realised you were a socially acceptable way out of marrying a woman and switched on the charm. It was fairly obvious, you dolt.”
James stared at him, eyes wide. “I didn’t notice.”
The boy sighed, dropping his fork to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Yes, well, I suppose it’s not entirely your fault. The git made good use of your obliviousness. Rather sly of him, actually. I almost respect it.”
James’s brain was replaying his every interaction with Marshall Fawley through new eyes. With this added context, he could refit so many puzzle pieces in new places. “That’s why he wanted to know about spousal benefits in Potter tradition.”
Regulus huffed irately.
“Let me get this straight,” Sirius tried to recap, having not been there himself. “This Marshall guy is betrothed to a woman, but the second he got confirmation that James is queer, he decided to try and bag James instead.”
“I believe so,” Mum confirmed slowly. She looked to her son. “You told him you’re queer, honey?”
He shrugged. “It came up directly and I didn’t want to lie. It’s not like I’m ashamed, and I figured it doesn’t really matter who knows. Should I not have said anything?”
“No, no. Tell whoever you want,” Mum assured.
Dad hummed in agreement. “It’s up to you, my boy. I do expect this will open up a whole other avenue of suitors vying for your hand once word gets around, however.”
“I’m surprised,” Sirius admitted with a small frown. “I would’ve thought James’d be shunned for coming out, not get twice the proposals.”
At this, Mum smirked, shark-like, and swept over to her husband, standing behind his chair and setting her hands on his shoulders. She dipped down to press a kiss into his hair. “Ah, but the prospect of marrying a Potter overrules everything really. You have no idea how many suitors I had to fend off to get mine.”
Dad swivelled to gaze adoringly up at her. “I was always yours.”
She put a tender palm against his cheek, her eyes soft. “I know, Flea. But we both remember how tricky it was to get rid of the others and convince your father I was the best choice.”
He hummed, leaning into her touch. “I still can’t believe you poisoned Lila Shacklebolt.”
James gasped. “You poisoned someone, Mum?”
“That’s so metal!” Sirius laughed delightedly.
Even Regulus looked impressed. “What poison?”
“Oh, it was just a little paralytic,” Mum dismissed airily. “She was fine.”
“She was in a coma for two weeks, dear.”
“She tried to touch what’s mine,” Mum justified, her hand slipping down to grasp Dad’s chin instead, her hold possessive. “She should’ve known better.”
Sirius looked like he was meeting his hero. “Effie, every time I think you couldn’t possibly get any cooler, you do.”
Regulus seemed thoughtful. “If you have any good book recommendations, I’d like to look into poisons.”
“I have a shelf dedicated to the topic,” Mum answered casually, “I’ll show you later.”
And see this? This was why James never forgot Mother’s Day. His Mum could be scary when she wanted to be.
Dad kissed his wife’s thumb which was pressed against his lips. In an instant, she softened. Just for him.
“My point was,” Mum continued, settling into the seat next to her husband and letting him thread their hands together, “that a chance into this family is rare. People want what we have, and if it takes marrying my son to get it, there are many who are willing to do just that — taboo around same-sex couplings be damned.”
“I am very rich,” James mused distantly, thinking back. “Marshall seemed to like that.”
“I’ll bet,” Sirius snorted.
“Besides, it’s not as though marrying someone of the same gender is illegal under the Ministry,” Dad pointed out. “The trouble is more about producing Heirs, and there’s always magical adoption for that.”
“That’s blood magic,” Regulus quirked a brow. “A little dark, wouldn’t you say?”
Dad shrugged. “Magic is magic. The shade of it doesn’t matter so much as how you use it. At least, to me.”
Mum nodded. “Our Lady Hecate, Mother of all Magic, is the triplicate. She is Left, Right, and Centre. She is Maiden, Mother, and Crone. She is Light, Dark, and Grey. She presides over it all, and we accept all of it equally. Or have you ever known us to discriminate?”
“No,” Sirius answered quietly, seeming to consider this deeply. His eyes flicked up to James. “That explains a lot about you, honestly.”
“To accept only what is light, would be just as bad as accepting only what is dark,” James replied, shrugging a little in mirror to his Dad. “I generally try to be accepting towards anything and everything, so long as it’s not, you know, evil. Like muggle-related prejudice? That’s just evil. That’s not about shades of light, dark, and grey; it’s just hate, and I’m not up for that.”
“He’s right,” Regulus regarded him with interest, “this does explain a lot about you.”
James just hummed and left the Black brothers to their pondering. He turned back to his parents. “So, I know you said you’re going to write letters rejecting the offers, but… do I have to do anything? Should I… Is there anything I can do to stop the offers coming in?”
“Short of getting betrothed, no, there’s not much you can do,” Mum smiled sympathetically.
“I told you before the season that I’d handle this for you, and I will,” Dad reiterated emphatically. “Don’t worry about it too much, Jamie. Hopefully, by the end of the season, word will get around that you’re not looking to settle down any time soon.”
“I’m…” James blushed the faintest amount. “I’m not opposed to settling down young, I just…”
“I know,” Dad gave him a kind smile. “But it’s better to tell people that, than to say you’re just not interested in them. Plus, the moment you entertain one offer, you’ll have to entertain them all to be polite. If you did that now, you’d have to enter multiple courtships, and it would turn into a competition as suitors vied for your hand.”
“He’s speaking from experience,” Mum divulged with a wicked glint in her eye. “He had eight courtships going at once after he started courting me. I really did have to get rid of the competition.”
“You didn’t kill anyone, did you?”
Dad laughed. “Not for lack of her trying.”
Mum just smirked coyly.
“No-one should ever forget how Slytherin you are,” James declared in a sage pronouncement.
She nodded proudly. Her husband laughed again.
“What should I say to Marshall? I’ll probably see him at an event soon.”
“Tell him you’re not interested,” Regulus said quickly.
Mum blinked but agreed with him. “Just let him down gently. It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”
“He already has another betrothal lined up anyway,” Dad tacked on. “This doesn’t negatively affect his prospects too much.”
James frowned. “To a woman though. He’ll never be happy marrying a woman.”
“That’s not a good reason for you to marry him, mate.” Sirius pointed his fork at James.
“It’s not your problem,” Regulus said with clipped words.
Again, Mum side-eyed him. “Unfortunately, that’s true. Short of marrying the boy, there’s nothing you can do to help him. Or, well, I suppose you could encourage him to follow his heart, but we all know how this story usually goes.”
James did. Usually, queer Purebloods just married for station and had quiet affairs on the side. The thought of that happening yet again made James’s mouth twist like he’d swallowed a lemon. “That’s so depressing.”
“Quite,” Mum agreed primly.
Dad’s smile was soft. “But like us, you can speak out against that type of thing where possible and show people that things don’t have to be that way.”
“You’ve already gotten that ball rolling, truthfully,” Mum mused. “By dancing with that Crouch boy. By admitting your sexuality without shame to members of the Ton.”
James tipped his chin up proudly. “Good. It’s time for some change around here.”
His parents’ expressions were proud.
“I couldn’t agree more,” Mum murmured, her eyes sparkling. He remembered their conversation at the beginning of all of this. When she’d urged James to be the change from within.
Maybe… just maybe… James was on his way to succeeding at this whole activist Heir thing.