Snowbody's Perfect
“Night, Prongs,” Sirius mumbled, barely awake. His eyelids had already drooped closed, and he couldn’t seem to reopen them.
“Night, Pads.” James laid him down in his bed and pulled the covers over him. He tried to grab the cube-thing from Sirius’s grasp, but Sirius cuddled it close. “Come on, I’ll put it on the nightstand.”
“‘m gonna solve’t,” Sirius insisted blearily.
“Tomorrow,” James placated, snatching it out of his best friend’s grasp. “Here, I’ll put it on the nightstand for you. Pride of place.” He set the brightly coloured cube down onto the wooden surface. From ‘Santa’, they’d each gotten common muggle toys, aimed at children. Sirius was almost immediately befuddled, vexed, and obsessed by the Rubik’s cube he’d been gifted. To be fair though, James was equally obsessed with the bubble gun thing he’d received. When he blew into it, bubbles appeared. Like magic!
Gently, he began to tuck the covers into place around his friend.
“You tucking me in?” Sirius made a pleased little sound.
“Sure am. Love you. Sweet dreams.”
“You’re the bestest friend ever,” Sirius murmured. The next second, he was asleep.
With a fond smile on his face, James slipped from the room, only to collide with Regulus, tumbling to the floor in a heap.
“You’re back!” James grinned, hands braced on either side of the Slytherin’s head, so as not to knock their skulls together.
Regulus just sighed, tipping his head back against the ground in resignation. “And you crashed into me again.”
“I’m starting to think it’s your fault as much as mine,” James grinned teasingly. “How was your day?”
Grey eyes met his. There was something glimmering inside of them. “Good. Yours?”
“Brilliant. Wanna see the muggle sweets I got? They’re down in the kitchen.”
Apparently, Regulus did.
After James helped him up and made sure he was steady, they made their way down to the kitchen, soon finding themselves with their knees knocking together as they sat on opposite sides of the breakfast bar. They recounted their days to each other while they curiously sifted through the box of sweets. James told the other boy all about the church sermon, and Hope’s cooking, and the Christmas films on the telly-vision, and the little situation with Santa Claus/Mr Lupin. James even retrieved his bubble gun, explaining how it worked to a rapt Regulus, who insisted he had to try it himself. James tried not to think about Regulus’s lips touching the same place James’s lips had been, because it was a dumb thought – and no, he wasn’t blushing, thank you very much.
In turn, Regulus told him about Lady Zabini’s auction, showing him the tome that once belonged to Merlin himself, and that had been charged to James’s account. The boy didn’t let James touch the book (even though James technically paid for it), but he didn’t mind too much, content enough to simply enjoy the smile tugging at Regulus’s lips. He was then informed of the happenings at the Brown Family Ball, which James had been privately happy to miss, narrowly escaping Maribelle Brown and her unfortunate crush.
“She asked after you,” Regulus smirked wickedly. “I told her, you missed her terribly.”
“You’re evil.” James shook his head, grimacing.
Regulus didn’t look repentant in the slightest.
They continued to chat despite the night stretching onwards, closer and closer to the morning. James just really didn’t want the conversation to end. Because if the conversation ended, Regulus would go to his room, away from James, and James liked him right here, right where James could admire every inch of his beautiful face. Luckily, the Slytherin didn’t seem inclined to leave either, indulging him and allowing James to look his fill.
“What’s this?” Regulus pulled a confection out of the box, a quizzical little frown creased between his brows. It was a sweet striped in white and red, a small hook curved onto one side. James remembered Remus telling him about it earlier.
“A ‘candy cane’,” James informed him. “Apparently it’s a common sweet around Christmastime. Peppermint flavoured.”
“Does it do anything?” Regulus curiously unwrapped the plastic covering, tapping it and finding it ever-so-slightly sticky if the absent-minded cleaning charm he cast on his hand was any indication.
“No. You just suck on it.”
“Muggle sweets are boring,” Regulus stated, not a criticism, just an observation. “They rarely do anything.”
“To be fair, muggles don’t have magic. If they wanted sweets to do things, they’d have to use mechanics and science, and I don’t know how edible it would be then.”
The boy hummed in consideration. Then, he frowned at the sweet, steely grey eyes squinted. He tilted his head to stare at it. His pink tongue darted out to lick it.
James watched him, his heart long-since melted into goo. “Pepperminty?”
“Maybe,” Regulus kept frowning. “It wasn’t a strong taste. Hold on.”
Experimentally, he placed the end of the candy cane in his mouth and sucked. The action was so very innocent – simply sampling an unfamiliar confection – but James was a filthy, filthy man, and his mind flooded with visions of Regulus sucking on something else. He forcibly cleared the images from his mind.
“Better?”
“Yes.” Regulus nearly smiled, seemingly more pleased now. “It tastes exactly like a regular peppermint, except in this strange shape.”
“You like it?”
He hummed again and placed it back in his mouth to suck on, plush lips wet around the striped sweet. With his other hand, he rooted around in the box to pull out a second candy cane, which he held out to James. Endeared, James took it.
“Thanks.” He unwrapped it and tasted it himself. “This really is an odd shape. What’s wrong with a normal circular peppermint?”
“I don’t know why muggles do anything they do,” Regulus shrugged. “Their way of life eludes me.”
Pausing, James considered his next words. “Do you care to find out more about them?”
Sensing they’d stumbled upon a sensitive topic, Regulus paused as well, silently sucking on his candy cane for several moments. Eventually, he answered. “I suppose I wouldn’t mind learning more about muggle culture – at least, muggle culture here in Britain, as that seems most relevant. It’s just that I’m not sure how much point there is in it, since I have no intentions of leaving Wizarding society.”
James turned the words over in his mind. “What if you fell in love with a muggle?”
Again, Regulus pondered silently before speaking. “To be brutally honest with you, I can’t see it happening. Not because I have anything against muggles, but simply because a muggle could never give me the life I want for myself.”
“Which is?”
The boy hesitated.
“No judgement,” James assured. “I promise, absolutely no judgement.”
Pulling the sweet treat away from his lips, Regulus met his gaze steadily. “Power. I want power.”
James was truthfully unsurprised. “A muggle couldn’t give you power?”
“Not the type of power I want. Not power in Wizarding society.”
A thought crossed his mind. “Are you planning to marry for power?”
A complicated expression encroached on Regulus’s features, and he looked away. “For sixteen years of my life, I thought I would. Although I know there are some who would blanche at the notion – my brother, for instance – I took no issue with it. I was genuinely happy to wed solely for political purposes.” He paused, careful. “Now though, things have shifted, and I find myself in a different position.”
“Because you have less social capital?”
Regulus nodded slightly. “That’s part of it, yes. Attracting a spouse of a high calibre is trickier for me now as a ward, than it was when I was a second son. But, simply put, I also have more freedom now. Before, I had resigned myself to marrying a woman, and that was never going to be a love match. But now I have the freedom to…” He trailed off and a long, weighty pause followed. Regulus’s eyes had gone distant, lost in the whirlpool of his thoughts.
When he spoke again, his voice was but a whisper. “Love is a possibility now. I could marry for love, if I wanted.”
James stared into misty grey. “Do you want to?”
Abruptly, Regulus’s wandering eyes found their mooring in James’s gaze. “Ideally, I’d get both. Power and love.”
“You think that’s possible?” James wondered.
Regulus continued to stare at him. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”
James mused on all of this in his mind. It was a very, very Slytherin way of looking at things, but that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Regulus was an ambitious person, and if he was willing to use marriage as a tool in his kit, then that was his prerogative. James wasn’t sure he could do the same, though. He wanted love, first and foremost. Everything else was just details. It almost made sense to James now that he was queer, because he didn’t care where that love came from – from who or in what form it took. He quite literally couldn’t give less of a shit. All he wanted was for that love to fill him up, to keep him safe, to consume him and overwhelm him and hold him until his dying breath. That was what he wanted out of love and marriage.
Really, he wanted a love like his parents had. He wanted a partner, in every sense of the word. He wanted the equality his Mum and Dad had between them. He wanted the way they leant into each other, the way they boosted each other up. The way the protected each other, defended each other, the way they stood side by side in all things. He wanted the balance they found in each other’s arms. He wanted to stop feeling so unbalanced. So precarious.
He… Oh Godric. That was why he wanted Regulus, wasn’t it? He wanted a counterweight. Someone unlike him in so many ways, and so perfect exactly because of it. He wanted what they’d been doing over the past few days. He wanted the ease with which they worked together. The safety of it too. He wanted that forever.
Actually… now that he thought about it, what Regulus wanted – that combination of love and power – that was exactly what his parents had. Mum… she was just as ambitious as Regulus. And she loved Fleamont Potter, no doubt about it. But she loved the power marrying him had given her just as much. And Dad loved her for it, loved how well she played Society’s games, loved how good she was at it. They had both. Influence and affection. Authority and companionship. A true and loving power couple.
That’s what James wanted. That’s what Regulus wanted. It seemed so bizarrely serendipitous. Did they really… Did they really align that well? Would they work as well as James’s parents did? Was… was it a real possibility?
He imagined it for a second. Let himself be the hopeless romantic he was and envision a future with Regulus. Envisioned a marriage bond, and children, and political games with Regulus by his side for all of it. Imagined the two of them arm in arm as they made history together, changed this world for the better, or at least tried to. Regulus would love nothing more than moulding society to his will, and James would love helping him do it, because it would be in service of the people who needed it most. They could be advocates for people who didn’t yet have a voice or a seat at the table. They could try to drag more seats to the table themselves. Regulus would look gorgeous while he did it.
He blinked. Reality crashed in.
Because Regulus likely wouldn’t want that. At least, not with James.
“I, er—” he started awkwardly. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”
Regulus tilted his head curiously, a silent permission to go ahead.
So, James steeled himself. “You know how yesterday Missy asked about us being betrothed…”
The other boy stilled, staring at him intently. “What about it?”
“You said…” James took a fortifying breath. “You said we’re not currently betrothed.”
Everything about Regulus, down to the grey pools in his eyes, was perfectly still. Like the smooth surface of a lake, entirely untouched, not a ripple in sight. “That is factually true.”
“You said ‘currently’, Regulus,” James grimaced uncomfortably. “You said that on purpose.”
“I don’t see the issue. You’re grasping at semantics, Potter.”
But he wasn’t. James knew he was right about this. “I just want to be clear that it’s not going to happen.”
Abruptly, everything about Regulus’s demeanour turned icy. The pool frosted over, and his eyes flashed with malice. “I see. Thank you for clearing that up.”
James reared back, knowing that he’d made a misstep here somehow, but unsure how to fix it. “I just mean that you can marry whoever you want, you know? It doesn’t… It doesn’t have to be me.”
“I got that, Potter.” Regulus started to get up and James pitched forwards to grab his wrist.
“Wait! Don’t go! I don’t want you to go!”
Enraged, Regulus whipped back to face him. “Then what do you fucking want, Potter? What the fuck are you trying to say to me right now?”
“That you won’t be forced into a betrothal contract with me,” James told him desperately. “That you can marry whoever you want. Absolutely anyone.”
Regulus’s eyes flamed, a cruel glint to them. “Even Barty?”
Everything in James violently protested against that idea, his insides shrivelling up with jealousy. He let go of the boy’s wrist and swallowed hard, trying but probably failing miserably to hide his feelings about this. “I mean, if that’s what you really want, then yes.”
Bizarrely, this seemed to still Regulus again. He narrowed his eyes at James, frowning intently. “You are so bloody confusing.” He closed his eyes and took a long, deep, calming breath. When he opened his lids once again, his gaze unerringly returned to James. “Tell me, in more words, exactly what you’re trying to say here.”
Admittedly a little lost, James did as he was told. “That it won’t happen like Missy said. You won’t be forced into marrying me. That’s not a condition of you staying here. My parents love you, just for you, and you’re not… you’re not being raised to be my spouse. They won’t ask that of you in exchange for taking you in. You’re free to marry whoever you want. Even…” Urgh, these next words made his heart constrict painfully. “Even Barty, if that’s what would make you happy.” Jealousy surged through him like a wild, snarling beast at the mere notion of it, but he tried his damn best to beat it down.
Releasing a heavy breath, Regulus dropped back into the seat and rubbed his fingers against his temples like he was staving off a headache. “You’re going to be the death of me.”
“I don’t understand,” James admitted delicately.
“I know you don’t,” Regulus sighed, with a bone-deep weariness. He popped the candy cane back in his mouth with the same air as Remus putting a cigarette between his lips after a particularly bad full moon. Like it was a hit he needed to feel okay. “If I’m understanding correctly, you were trying to be a selfless and compassionate git, reassuring me that who I court or marry is entirely up to me and the other person?”
James nodded, relieved. “Yes, that’s exactly it.”
“And not that I’m an entirely undesirable person to bond with in matrimony.”
Startled, James’s eyes went wide. “Of course not! Anyone would be lucky to have you!”
“I hate you so much,” Regulus said then, fatigue and exasperation drenching his tone.
Something in James twisted unhappily. “I don’t want you to hate me.”
“Then please Gryffindor up sometime soon,” Regulus replied nonsensically. “You’re supposed to be the brave one.”
“I don’t understand again.”
“Figure it out. For the love of all things, figure it out.”