A Very Potter Christmas

In hindsight, it was practically a miracle that they’d lasted twelve days of the holiday without this happening. In the back of his mind, he wondered if his thoughts during the conversation with his Mum yesterday triggered this. Then again, it was probably inevitable.

Whilst his parents were out on a grocery run, James found himself holed up in his room, rushing through the homework he’d left to nearly the end of the holiday. They would be back at school within four days, and James had barely completed any of his work.

Oh, well. At this point, his behavioural transcript was an unsalvageable mess anyway. What were a few more detentions on his file? Oh! Maybe he’d break the record for the most detentions ever given to a Head Boy at Hogwarts? That would be fucking epic! He’d go down in history as The coolest Head Boy ever! He made a mental note to look into the current record, unshakeably confident that he could break it if he tried.

In any case, he was in the middle of his Transfiguration work, absent-mindedly tapping his wand against the small wooden desk in his bedroom as he read through yet another mind-numbing chapter of the textbook. When he heard a distant yelling erupt into existence, he paused, sitting up and straining to hear across the manor.

As an only child who’d grown up in an upsettingly quiet house with two very calm parents, James still wasn’t quite used to the screaming matches that Sirius and Regulus had with each other regularly. He’d been very concerned at first, but he’d gradually come to accept that violently cussing each other out wasn’t a big deal to the Black brothers? Apparently, it was normal? Mum once theorised something about them being comfortable enough with each other to actually speak their minds without fear of retribution. She said it was a relatively good sign, or at least not a cause for concern. James wasn’t sure he’d ever understand blood siblings.

Still, sometimes the verbal evisceration could go a bit too far, and actually hurt one or both of their feelings. And other times, it devolved into physical brawls which Mum and Dad strongly discouraged and had gently scolded the brothers for on a few occasions. So, James found himself listening for any sign that this particular screaming match was about to go south.

“I HATE YOU!” Regulus screeched at the top of his lungs.

The legs of James’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood with a resigned sigh. This was going to be fun.

“OH, YEAH?” Sirius was already bellowing back. “WELL, I HATE YOU TOO, YOU AN UNGRATEFUL BRAT!”

James quickened his footsteps down the hallway.

“UNGRATEFUL?” Regulus repeated, obviously incensed. “I NEVER FUCKING ASKED FOR YOUR OPINION IN THE FIRST PLACE!”

“EXCUSE ME FOR CARING!”

James practically ran down the stairs.

“I WISH YOU DIDN’T! I WISH YOU WEREN’T MY BROTHER! YOU’RE A MEDDLING PRICK!”

“AND I WISH YOU’D NEVER BEEN BORN, YOU WHINY LITTLE CUNT!”

James hastily threw open the drawing room door, panting as he braced himself against the doorframe. “Neither of you mean that. Let’s lower our voices a tad, yeah?”

Simultaneously, two raven-haired heads swivelled in his direction, their grey eyes molten with a matching amount of insatiable rage. A lesser man would cower. Maybe piss his pants. James was almost proud to say he stood his ground, used to their antics by now.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Regulus screamed at the same time Sirius yelled, “SHUT UP, PRONGS!”

James simply smiled placatingly. “I’m not going to take offense to that. Tensions are high.” He didn’t bother asking either of them to calm down. That was never going to happen. “Either of you mind filling me in on what we’re arguing about?”

“This idiot wants to walk right into the snake pit,” Sirius bit out venomously, probably unaware that he had, in fact, subconsciously lowered his volume just from the calming effect James’s presence had on him.

Curiously, Regulus’s volume lowered too. “It’s not the fucking snake pit,” the boy scoffed irately. “It’s the Malfoy Ball. A Ball, you might remember, that I’ve been going to every year since I was old enough to walk.”

“Right,” James nodded in appeasement, still not grasping the issue here. “And why is this Ball in particular so bad?” After all, this was hardly the first Slytherin event they’d attended this season.

“It’s not,” Regulus bit back, utterly fuming. “My brother is simply being difficult.”

“I’m looking out for you!” Sirius rebutted. “This is our family we’re talking about!”

“Maman and Papa aren’t even hosting a Ball this year!” Regulus threw up his hands in frustration. “It’s just Cissy!”

“As if they won’t flaunt the connection between the Blacks and the Malfoys at every opportunity!” Sirius cried out. “And I bet Bella will be there too! So, the Lestrange wing of the family will be on your back too! Do you really want to subject yourself to that?”

“Yes!” Regulus screamed, looking just about ready to tear his hair out. “I do! I can handle it!”

“You shouldn’t have to handle it!”

“I want to!”

“No, you don’t! You’ve just been conditioned to think you have to!”

Regulus let out a guttural scream and the window behind him shattered, his magic lashing out at the sheer fury radiating throughout his body.

In fact, now that James was paying attention to it, he could feel the whole room saturated thickly with the two brothers’ magic. Barely restrained. Cloying. Practically crackling through the air.

“WHEN WILL YOU GET IT THROUGH YOUR THICK SKULL THAT I’M NOT A BABY ANYMORE?!” Regulus roared, like a volcano finally exploding. His grey eyes were shadowed and dark. “I DON’T NEED PROTECTING!”

“OF COURSE, YOU DO!” Sirius howled back, which wasn’t helping the situation. “YOU’VE NEVER KNOWN HOW TO STAND UP TO OUR FAMILY!”

“YOU’VE NEVER EVEN LET ME TRY!” The Slytherin dived towards his brother like he was aiming to strangle the life out of him, but James darted forward to wedge himself between them. He shoved a hand at each of their chests as they swiped and jabbed and reached desperately around him, trying fruitlessly to get at each other.

“Let me at him!”

“Why you little—”

“ENOUGH!” James boomed out, a little shocked by the deep timbre of his own voice, authoritative and calm.

Sirius and Regulus must have been surprised too, because they faltered enough to pause in their efforts, blinking at him with twin expressions. Their large grey eyes in their respective shades, light and dark, both stared owlishly at him.

“Time to separate and cool off,” James announced, much more collected than he felt. “Regulus, would you mind getting started on lunch for all of us? Mum and Dad should be back soon, so portion out enough for them too. I’ll finish it up once I’m done chatting with Sirius.”

“Oh, sure. Use me for free labour whilst Sirius gets to sit on his arse. As usual,” the boy grumbled under his breath, but he headed straight for the door, presumably to do just that. He didn’t glance once at his brother as he left.

James listened to the sounds of Regulus’s retreating footsteps down the corridor and waited until they were far away enough before he turned to the remaining Black brother. Sirius already had his eyes squeezed shut, taking deep breaths to calm himself. His hair looked frazzled like he’d run his hands through it several times over the course of the argument.

“Well…” James began lightly. “Not your best work.”

At this, Sirius’s eyes shot open, locking on James and narrowing menacingly. “Me? What about him? He’s the one being an idiot.”

James pursed his lips.

Sirius’s eyes narrowed further. “Oh, don’t tell me you agree with him.”

He sighed and decided this was a conversation best had sitting down. He let himself fall heavily onto one side of the sofa.

“You do agree with him!” His best friend accused, sounding downright betrayed as he threw himself onto the opposite side. “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway! You didn’t grow up in our family, and so you have no idea what you’re talking about! You don’t get an opinion!”

“Fair,” James conceded. “But Regulus should.”

This stopped Sirius short. “And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

Carefully choosing his words, and wary of overstepping, James looked his best mate in the eye. “It means that Regulus was right. He’s not a baby. He’s very nearly an adult. And as much as I respect how protective you are over him, and as much as I understand how necessary that was for you both growing up, you have to acknowledge that he’s his own person now, and he’s well within his rights to make his own choices.”

Sirius scowled defensively. “He’s making the wrong ones. It’s my job to protect him from that.”

James swallowed and looked away, thinking hard. “Look, I’m not a parent. I’ve never had to look after someone the way you looked after Regulus, and so I can’t speak to that. But I do know what’s it’s like to be someone’s child. I know how frustrating it can be when your loved ones try to restrict you, only to turn around and say it’s for your own good. I know how much resentment that builds, and I know how absolutely infuriating it all feels. The best thing my parents have ever done for me, is let me make my own mistakes. Because it allowed me to learn from them. Allowed me to understand consequences, and accountability, and self-restraint.”

Sirius frowned deeply. “I can’t just let him hurt himself.”

“But that’s life,” James replied gently, offering his friend an empathetic smile. “Sometimes we get hurt. Sometimes we regret things. I won’t pretend to think I know any better than you, but if you want my advice, I’d say that being a support for him will be far more appreciated than trying to slay all his demons for him. Instead of forcing this role of protector and victim on yourself and on him, let him do what he wants.”

“But what if—?” Sirius fell silent, his jaw tightening and eyes flashing with fear.

“This isn’t just about letting him have his independence, is it?” James guessed quietly.

Sirius put his face in his hands. “What if he goes back to them? What if he chooses them over me?”

Ah. James scooted closer to his friend and put what he hoped was a comforting hand on his jean-clad knee. “I’m afraid of that too.”

“See? It could happen! I don’t think I’ll survive it if he leaves me alone.”

James took another deep inhale as he pondered how to respond. “Firstly, if that does happen, you won’t be alone. You’ll still have me. You’ll always have me.”

Sirius made a weak sound of gratefulness.

“And secondly…” James bit the inside of his lip. “Give him the chance to choose you.”

Sirius slowly lifted his head from his hands, vulnerable grey eyes looking to James. “What?”

“If you force him not to go, you’re taking away his opportunity to choose you,” James explained delicately. “If you really love him, and really have faith in him, you’ll respect and trust him enough to let him choose for himself. To actually give him the option to choose you. We’ve given him plenty of reasons to want to stay, but when it comes down to it, it should still be his choice.” As hard as that was to say, he knew in his heart it was right.

“I…” Sirius’s face fell. “Fuck, I’m just like them, aren’t I? Taking away his choices.”

James grasped his hand tightly. “You’re human, Pads, and your heart was in the right place. Besides, everyone makes mistakes and says things they shouldn’t. I highly doubt he’ll hold it against you.”

His best friend’s face looked so tired. So much older than his eighteen years of age. He scrubbed a weary hand down his cheek. “What do I do?”

James shrugged. “I don’t know, mate. Apologise? Just say you’re sorry you overreacted and that you’ll support him no matter what. Make yourself a safe space for him, not the enforcer he never asked for.”

Sirius stared at him for a long, long moment. “You really understand him, don’t you?”

James shifted in his seat, looking away. “I’m trying to. You may have noticed, but your brother’s a very difficult person to read.”

Blessedly, this made Sirius snort, his dire mood lessening. “That’s an understatement and a half.”

His Mum’s advice from yesterday echoed through his mind.

“Padfoot,” James started before he lost his nerve, before he could think too deeply on it and psych himself out. He retreated his hands back to his lap. “I have something to tell you.”

Sirius stilled. Raised a brow. “Yeah?”

Just say it.

Just say it.

Just say it.

“I like Regulus,” James blurted out, all in a rush. “Romantically.”

For one, long, agonising second, Sirius’s expression didn’t move.

But then, his features broke out into a grin. “I know.”

James’s jaw dropped. “‘You know’? That’s all you have to say? How do you know? How long have you known?”

Sirius’s grin turned sly, his eyes dancing with amusement. “If I had to make a wager, I’d say I’ve known longer than you have. I knew the moment you lobbed a snowball at him.”

James’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “That’s the same day I realised! Well, actually, that’s when I started thinking it was a crush, but I noticed I was attracted to him a few days earlier when we danced—”

“You danced with my brother?”

“He was helping me prepare for the social season,” James defended.

“Oh, no wonder you’re smitten.”

The words made James pause. “So… I take it you’re not mad?”

“Mad?” Sirius’s eyebrows flew up in genuine bewilderment. “Why on earth would I be mad?”

James looked down at his shoes. “Because I’m the creep who fell for your baby brother. I swear I didn’t mean to. He’s just so…”

“Prongs,” Sirius spoke as though he couldn’t believe he had to clarify this. “You’re probably the only person on the face of the planet who even has a hope of deserving my Reggie. I’m unbelievably ecstatic it’s you. And you’re much better than that Crouch kid. I simply cannot wait until we’re brothers in law!”

Bemused, James could only blink. “Uhm, thanks?”

“Genuinely, you’re the only person I can fathom trusting with him,” Sirius stated, utterly sincere. Then he paused, seeming to think for a moment. “Well, I’d trust Moony with him too, but I think I’d have to kill myself if they ever got together.”

It was James’s turn to smirk. “Want Moony all to yourself?”

Sirius’s cheeks pinked. “I haven’t the foggiest what you’re on about.”

“Oh please,” James grinned. “If we’re coming clean with each other, let’s talk about the fact that you’ve been head over heels for Remus since at least Third Year, and you’ve never found the balls to do anything about it.”

“Rude,” Sirius pouted. “And I don’t see you making any moves.”

“I’ve liked Regulus for not even three weeks, and only just figured out I’m queer,” James countered evenly, “You, on the other hand, have been pining needlessly for years.”

“You pined after Lily for years!”

“After I asked her out in First Year. Say what you will about that situation, but at least I was brave enough to go for it.”

Sirius glowered resentfully. “Don’t pull the Gryffindor card on me. I’m not a coward.”

“Prove it,” James challenged, a spark in his words. “If you make a move on Remus, I’ll make one on Regulus.”

Predictably, James’s spark turned to flame in Sirius’s eyes. “Deal.”

Then, he seemed to realise what he’d done. “Wait! No! I take it back!”

“Too late!” James sing-songed, getting to his feet. “Consider this your kick up the arse!”

Sirius scrambled to follow him. “But what if he doesn’t like me back? What if I ruin six years of friendship? What if this completely fucks up the group dynamics?”

James placed a hand on each of his shoulders and leaned down so they were eye level. “Padfoot.”

“Yeah?”

“Would I ever steer you wrong on purpose?”

Sirius bit his lip. “No, but—”

“Padfoot.”

“Yeah?”

“Gryffindor up. Take a leap of faith. You know I’ll catch you if you fall.”

“I—” Sirius hesitated. “You really think I should go for it?”

“Yes,” James replied with complete confidence.

“I— Okay. Alright.” Sirius began to nod to himself, thinking deeply. “Okay. Alright then. I— yes. I’ll… Time to Gryffindor up.”

Hearing it from Sirius’s lips, with grey eyes staring up at him, yanked a memory right to the forefront of his brain.

“Then please Gryffindor up sometime soon,” Regulus replied nonsensically. “You’re supposed to be the brave one.”

Maybe… Maybe Regulus had been signalling to him all along? Maybe he wanted James to make a move? Maybe he’d just been waiting on James to confess first? Hope ignited like a blaze of fire in his gut.

“Time to Gryffindor up!” He nodded back at his friend. “Both of us! We’re gonna do it!”

Sirius let out a hysterical laugh. “I want you to know that if this goes tits up, I’m placing the blame solely on you.”

Somehow, James didn’t think things would go tits up for Sirius and Remus, well aware that they both loved each other deeply. He could honestly see them going the distance and ending up as crotchety bickering old men together.

Him and Regulus, on the other hand… that future was a bit more uncertain.

“Well, we’ll never know unless we try,” James encouraged, a smile creeping onto his face. For the first time, he actually had hope about his crush.

*

Shortly after that, he swapped out with Regulus in the kitchen, giving the brothers the opportunity to talk it all out. It was a very long conversation, so long in fact, that James finished cooking their pasta, put the other portions under stasis, and ate the whole meal at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. He even managed to wash and dry his dishes, putting them away by the time the brothers resurfaced.

“We fixed the window,” Sirius announced as he swept in, snatching up his pasta and removing the stasis charm. “Spaghetti?”

Regulus shrugged, doing the same. “It’s one of five meals I know how to make. Well, six including stuffed turkey, because I know how to do that now. …Somewhat.”

James smiled as he placed his bowl back in the cupboard. The door gave a familiar squeak as it closed. “I take it you’re back to normal now?”

“Mhmmm,” Sirius confirmed, already shovelling pasta into his mouth with frightening speed. He didn’t bother to sit, holding the bowl with one hand as he turned back towards the door. “Got to go. I have a call scheduled with Remus.”

“Oh, well in that case, you don’t want to be late for Remus,” James teased.

“Fuck off, cupcake!” Were his best mate’s parting words as the bloke rushed out of the room, gone as quick as he’d come.

Regulus, on the other hand, seated himself at the breakfast bar to take his meal, watching James bustle about the kitchen, replacing pots and pans in their designated homes. “I’m not entirely certain what you said to him, but…” He seemed to hesitate, reluctant to say his next words. Still, he forced himself to speak them anyway. “But I appreciate it. Thank you.”

Well aware of the magnitude that was Regulus Black admitting someone else had helped him, James beamed, overjoyed. “Of course! It was no problem at all!”

Regulus hummed, staring into his bowl. He twirled spaghetti noodles around his fork, ate the mouthful, and chewed thoughtfully. Giving him time, James turned back to his work, slowing down to give him an excuse to stay in the kitchen longer.

Eventually, the Slytherin spoke again. “I am surprised you took my side, however.”

James made a mildly disagreeing noise. “It’s not about sides. I just want you both to be happy. And… and well, it felt like Sirius was holding on a little too tight this time.”

“He thinks I’m a child.”

“He thinks you’re the most precious thing in the world to him, and he just wants to protect you. Sometimes he goes about it the wrong way.”

At this, James could feel the piercing sensation of Regulus’s gaze on him. He followed the feeling, met with those now-familiar eyes boring into him, so much intensity in them that James didn’t know what to do with himself. He straightened up under the scrutiny, barely resisting the urge to rock back and forth on his heels like he often did in awkward situations.

“You don’t think that,” Regulus stated quietly. “You don’t think I need protecting.”

“I think you’re worth protecting,” James clarified, “but no, I don’t think you need it. Certainly not from me. The way I see it, you’re perfectly capable on your own. But that doesn’t mean you can’t have support anyway.”

Regulus had fully abandoned his food by now, his gaze on James unerring. His eyes were unblinking, his body completely still. It made James feel like he’d put his foot in his mouth.

“Did I say something wrong?”

Regulus inhaled sharply, like he’d finally remembered he needed air in his lungs. He looked away but quickly back again, shifting in his seat. “No. This time, your words were perfectly adequate. It seems as though you’re on a streak today, Potter.”

James nodded, not quite sure what to make of that. He decided to change the subject. “So, you’re definitely going to the Malfoy Ball tonight?”

“Yes,” the Slytherin confirmed with a curt nod. “And my brother has agreed that he will not try to stop me. …Not that he could.”

James had to smile at that. “I would bet on you. Don’t tell him, though.”

Regulus’s lips nearly quirked up. “Our secret.”

A thought crossed his mind and James sobered up. “Hey, about the Malfoys — I’ve been brainstorming how to respond to the ‘gift’ they got me at the Greengrass Ball, and I have an idea I’d like to run by you. If you think it’s a good plan, I’ll pitch it to my parents for tonight.”

Intrigued, Regulus raised a brow and picked up his fork, preparing to listen. “Go on then.”

So, James started speaking…

*

Malfoy Manor was a whole new level of extravagance. It was a vast Elizabethan manor-house, built from sturdy sand-coloured brick and an impressive plethora of windows. The symmetry of it, the scale, the opulence… James hadn’t expected anything less from the Malfoys.

Inside the ballroom, the ceiling stretched high above their heads, adorned in vivid scenes of painted splendour. Multiple chandeliers floated in shimmering majesty, a thousand candles lighting the space. In true tradition, a band of eleven pipers filled the cavernous hall with their music, though the dancing had not yet begun. Amidst the masses of well-dressed guests, albino peacocks leisurely strutted about like they owned the place — much like their owner — weaving in and out of the crowds with ease.

“Of course, he’s displaying the peacocks,” Regulus murmured, visibly holding back an eye roll.

“They’re India’s national bird, you know?” James offered, eyeing the way one of them snapped aggressively at a guest. “My Mum told me. Not necessarily the white ones, just peafowl in general. Did you know that white peafowl aren’t born that way? They gradually turn white as they mature. It’s pretty rare.”

“I did not know that,” Regulus admitted. “Did you know that Lucius is so fond of them because they are his and Narcissa’s patronus forms? They have matching peafowl. I’d wager he collects them in white to match the colouring of a patronus.”

“That’s actually quite sweet,” James bit back a smile. “Makes him displaying them seem less pretentious.”

“Oh, he’s only doing it to show off,” Regulus smirked. “Most people aren’t privy to his patronus form. I only know because Cissy was rather excited about it — she is quite convinced they’re soulmates.”

“You don’t agree?”

“I suppose I cannot imagine loving a narcissistic prick like Blondie,” he revealed quietly.

“Blondie?” James repeated, delighted by the derision dripping from the nickname.

Regulus waved a dismissive hand. “Bella came up with the nickname for Lucius. Siri and Andy love it. Cissy hates it. It stuck.”

It was times like this that James could clearly see how deeply Regulus loved his family. Despite everything, they were all he’d known growing up, and James doubted he’d ever be able to fully let them go. ‘Bella’ and ‘Cissy’ had been complicit in so many terrible things that had happened to the boy, and ‘Andy’ and ‘Siri’ had tried to help, though they’d never managed to save him entirely from the pain. And still, he loved them all. His capacity for love was so vast, yet so hidden beneath all his layers of defences. Other people might not look at him and see the same, but James saw his lion heart, every single time.

“Get ready,” Regulus snapped him back to attention, and James turned to see a wider band joining the pipers. Each musician poised themselves to play as the hosts of the evening, Lord Lucius and Lady Narcissa Malfoy, swanned over to the centre of the ballroom.

Narcissa looked stunning in her pale blue robes, the train of her gown trailing after her dramatically. It was a high necked and modest garment, though her slim figure was accentuated perfectly by the trim bodice. Her platinum locks had been artfully twisted up into an elegant style, with sparkling jewelled stars clipped into the updo. In effect, she looked long and graceful, an exquisite match to her husband.

Lucius’s long hair had been braided at the sides and tied with ribbon at the base of his skull, the nearly-white locks utterly pristine. In turn, he wore a set of midnight blue robes, a flash of silver stars at the cuffs of his sleeves.

They were a striking pair, still youthful in their early twenties, though tall with the pride of their titles. They bowed and curtsied to each other as the band struck up a lilting waltz, a hush falling over the hall. James, much like everyone else in attendance, watched with astonishment as the couple began to twirl along the floor with ease. They moved in mesmerising circles, their technique unsurprisingly flawless, but the flowing performance they gave was so much more than that.

They were good at this. Great even. Their steps were languid, and precise, and in perfect tandem, making it all look so much easier than it was. It honestly reminded him of watching his parents dance — the kind of synchrony that could only be achieved after years of moving with the same partner. Because it was partnership, James was seeing here. True partnership. Whatever his personal feelings about the individuals themselves, it was clear to see the truth of Regulus’s earlier words; these two people loved each other. Plain and simple.

The customary first dance of the hosts came to a close with a sweeping bow from Lucius and a polished curtsey from Narcissa. As the band stuck up a second tune, they opened the floor to their guests to dance, and James immediately went striding over before he lost his nerve.

“Lady Malfoy,” James greeted with his own bow. “Lord Malfoy. Would you mind terribly if I cut in?”

The two blondes regarded him with a subtle surprise and suspicion in their eyes. Whilst his question had been directed in Lucius’s direction, it was Narcissa who got to decide here. As a married witch, she could easily turn him down without any repercussions, but it was a bold enough move that James’d probably made her curious.

She nodded minutely to her husband, who didn’t seem pleased but acquiesced all the same. “Of course, Heir Potter,” he ground out, backing away.

So, James took up ballroom hold with Narcissa Malfoy and began to lead her around in a foxtrot — thank Godric he’d practiced with Regulus last month.

“I’ll cut right to the chase,” James began, just loud enough for her to hear him over the music, but quiet enough not to be overheard. He had limited time — the duration of one song — to relay this to her. He had to be quick.

“I would appreciate that,” she responded sharply, so suspicious and closed off and defensive that it reminded him of Regulus. She had the same grey eyes as the rest of the Black family, though hers were a paler shade — more akin to Sirius’s than Regulus’s. She had the same high cheekbones as both of her cousins, the same cutting jawline and straight nose. The same haughty expression and flair for dramatics. He barely knew her at all, but all of these things evoked a pang of fondness in his chest, nonetheless.

“I love your cousins,” he told her, brutally honest.

She blinked, so startled by his frankness that she almost faltered in her step. Almost. She was far too graceful to actually trip.

“I want them to be happy,” he continued, and truthfully, he hadn’t explained this part to Regulus when presenting the plan, not wanting the boy to feel like James was doing this all for him. All James had said to him was that he’d convince the woman to hear him out. Regulus had seemed sceptical but hadn’t argued.

To his words, Narcissa didn’t say anything, merely scrutinising him with uncannily familiar grey eyes. If she was looking for any hint of insincerity, she wasn’t going to find any. James meant every word.

“I think Regulus misses you,” he carried on, a touch quieter despite his already low volume. “And Sirius is…” terrified he’ll lose his brother, the same way he thinks he has already lost you. “The point is, I don’t see any reason why you can’t continue to associate.”

Calculating grey eyes remained unerringly on him, even though she wasn’t supposed to look directly at him during a foxtrot. As they stepped in time to the music, she seemed to swallow thickly. “Houses Potter and Malfoy are not aligned the way Houses Malfoy and Black are. We cannot associate closely anymore.” Her voice was even and measured, no hint of emotion in it. Impossibly, James could sense her sadness anyway.

“Let’s fix that,” he replied confidently. “Get me a private audience with your husband. You, me, Regulus, and Lord Malfoy. We can work this out.”

Again, James seemed to have surprised her. “You want to negotiate an alliance between House Potter and House Malfoy, simply so that I can see my baby cousins again outside of brief and stolen moments?”

James grinned. “Well, it’s not the only reason, but it’s certainly a perk. I’d also like to expand House Potter’s breadth of alliances. I wasn’t kidding about making memorable moves.”

“I see that now,” Narcissa murmured almost absently, her mind running a mile a minute.

They twirled along the dance floor, picking up speed. Part of James felt like this was her testing him. How well could he keep up with her on all fronts? If he were lying, could he maintain the lies and the dance at the same time?

It took a bit of concentration, but James made sure not to falter; he didn’t want to give her any reason not to trust him. And honestly, he wanted her to like him too. He suspected this was Regulus’s favourite cousin, and he wanted to leave a good impression.

When her eyes met his once more, there was a fragile hope in them. “My husband is not an easy man to negotiate with.”

“Yeah, I figured,” James admitted, somewhat bashful. “That’s why I recruited Regulus’s help, and why I would like it if you were there too. I have a feeling absolutely nothing productive will be accomplished if it’s just me and Lord Malfoy in a room together.”

The woman pursed her thin lips like she was trying not to smile. “I presume that this has been approved by Lord and Lady Potter?”

“Yes, it has.” They had been surprised, but supportive after James had explained.

“I also presume that Regulus pre-approved your terms for my husband?”

“Yeah. He’s good at this stuff.”

A flicker of pride glimmered in her eyes. “In that case, I shall facilitate the meeting. Do you have the contract proposals on your person?”

It was James’s turn to blink in surprise. “You want to do this now?”

“Why wait?” She answered primly, though no amount of cold indifference could hide the fact that she was eager. Eager to do this now. Eager to have her family back. Eager to sort it out as soon as humanly possible, so that she could hold a conversation with her baby cousins for longer than two minutes at a time.

It wasn’t exactly forbidden to socialise with those one is not allied with, but the Blacks were in a particularly precarious position at the moment. With the disownment of Andromeda, Sirius, Regulus, (and Alphard), in opposition to the traditional marriage alliances Narcissa provided with House Malfoy and Bellatrix provided with House Lestrange, the family had been rather obviously split into two factions. Half doing as they were born and bred to do, the other half rejecting their duty and running away.

It was such an extreme division that Sirius and Regulus had not spoken to their uncle Alphard or their cousin Andromeda for years prior to leaving House Black. He expected it was the same for the Black sisters, and could only imagine how difficult it was that they couldn’t contact their sister.

And now the gap had extended to Sirius and Regulus. If Narcissa were to reach out to them in any way, she would no doubt get the third degree both from the senior members of the Black family (Walburga, Orion, Cygnus, and Druella), and also from House Malfoy, who were very much not allies with House Potter in any way.

So, in proposing this loophole to Narcissa, James had hoped that she would want the reconnection as much as Regulus (and Sirius, though he’d never admit it). But he somehow hadn’t expected it. He’d prepared for it, yes, but at the very least, he’d thought it would take a few weeks of persuasion to override her ingrained obedience and encourage her to prioritise her heart.

Yet here she was, eager to reunite with her baby cousins, her other relatives be damned.

“I do have the papers with me,” he confirmed, unable to fight down his smile. He wasn’t a Black. He’d never been great at hiding his feelings.

Narcissa’s eyes sparkled as the dance came to a close, the only outward sign of her optimism. She curtsied and he bowed, keeping eye contact all the while. “Offer me your arm. Let us locate my cousin and husband.”

*

Lucius Malfoy’s home office was a fairly large room not far from the ballroom. Decorated in dark blues and browns, the place was pristinely neat. Bookshelves lined the right and left wall, filled to the brim with ledgers. A grand mahogany desk stood centrally, framed by windows behind it, with two leather chairs poised opposite. Closer to the entrance, a lounge area was arranged with uncomfortable-looking sofas and armchairs around a low table, a fully stocked bar cart off to the side. From the sheer variety of alcoholic beverages in elaborate crystalline decanters, James could deduce that he hosted business meetings with guests in here quite frequently.

The four of them settled into the seating area cautiously, Lucius eyeing James with immense suspicion and no small amount of distaste as he seated himself beside his wife. James exchanged one last look of, ‘Oh Godric, here goes nothing’ with Regulus before they simultaneously sat themselves opposite the pair, sharing a sofa in reflection to the Malfoys.

“Heir Potter,” Lucius began tightly, “What matter, pray tell, is of such importance that you insisted on pulling me away from the ball I am in the midst of hosting?”

Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Regulus and Narcissa silently communicating across the way. Now that he could view them in the same room, right across from each other, it was obvious just how similar they were. Strangely, Sirius was more closely related to the boy than this woman was, and yet, this was uncanny. The flawless posture, the proud tilt of the jaw, the blank but beautiful expression, the neat way the hands clasped in the lap — they were like mirror images, so perfectly poised, so disturbingly conditioned. No wonder these two got along so well.

More motivated than ever, James pulled out the first piece of parchment from his robes, crisply folded and sealed in purple wax with the Potter House crest stamped into it. He reached forward to present it to the man opposite. “After receiving your gift at the Greengrass ball the other day, I knew I needed to return the honour,” James told him, fighting fiercely not to grin wide at the flex in Lucius’s jaw as it tightened.

“I see.” He took the parchment with reluctant fingers.

“Open it,” James encouraged cheerily, before the man could make some excuse.

Rigidly, Lucius retrieved his wand. His blue eyes maintained icy contact with James as he sent a sharp cutting curse at the seal to break it.

Unnecessary, James thought, but whatever.

After taking an age to unfold the pages — sodding dramatic bastard — James again had to school his features in the face of Lucius’s reaction. He watched in real time as emotions ran through his mind at lightning speed — shock, mistrust, hope, suspicion, anger. Anger. He settled on anger.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lucius brandished the parchment, practically spitting the words.

Without missing a beat, Narcissa plucked it from his fingers and her eyes began to skim the page. They shot up to James in surprise. “Is this real?”

“Yes,” James leaned back in his seat with a pleased air. Then he frowned, readjusted his position. Merlin, this sofa really was uncomfortable.

“My House has been after this land for generations, and you dare spit in my face with this!” Lucius raged. “What tactless trick are you playing?”

James remained calm. “I think you’ll find, Lord Malfoy, that the document is quite real. That is the deed to the Wiltshire land your family has been attempting to possess for…?” He looked to Regulus for dramatic effect.

“Four centuries,” Regulus supplied primly, mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Ah, right. Four centuries.” He turned back to the Malfoys. “It’s my gift of honour, from my House to yours.”

Both Malfoys poured over the document intently. Eventually, Lucius stared at him, his anger simmered low, but his confusion peaked. “And why would you gift this to me?”

James finally allowed himself to smile. “Well, for one, I’m not nearly as petty as my ancestors. The land should be yours.”

As it turned out, the story there was as ridiculous as most beginnings of feuds were. Apparently, their Houses had been friends. Then, one day, the Malfoys fell into some money troubles and had to temporarily sell the land where one of their relatives had been buried. The Potters had agreed to hold it for them until they could afford to buy it back, only for the families to fall out shortly after. To be petty, the Potters refused to sell it back to them. Cue generations of Potters keeping the land away from the Malfoys, whilst generations of Malfoys tried everything to get it back, the original reason behind it all falling into obscurity.

“I can’t speak for my ancestors, but I can apologise on behalf of my parents and myself,” James continued honestly. “We weren’t aware of the sentimental value this land holds to your House — it seems to have been erased from our records, though I suspect that was deliberate on someone’s part. Regulus explained it to me, and so I’m rectifying the situation.”

Lucius stared.

Stared.

Stared.

He waved the parchment slightly. “So, if I were to take this document to the Ministry tomorrow, it would pass their inspections and my family’s land would be returned to us?”

“I sure hope so.”

Regulus elbowed him. “What he means to say is, ‘yes’. As far as we are aware, that document is legitimate.”

Lucius’s eyes narrowed. “And this is your response to my… gift… the other day. Am I really to believe that?”

James just gave him a pointed look. “My ego isn’t so delicate that it can be hurt by a single slice of cake.”

Meanwhile, Regulus locked eyes with his cousin. “A joke between friends can easily be swept under the rug.”

Narcissa seemed to understand instantly. She leaned closer to her husband. “He’s right, dear. If Heir Potter is willing to let bygones be bygones and start afresh, isn’t that worth considering?”

Lucius turned his suspicions on her. “Are you suggesting I ally with him?”

“No,” James cut in, retrieving his second sheaf of parchment from his robe pocket and holding it out. “I am.”

*

“Why?”

That had been the main question, from Regulus and his parents alike.

“Because I’ve been thinking about what kind of Heir, and eventually Lord, I want to be,” James had begun, nervously rocking back and forth on his heels, “and I don’t want to be the kind that does things just because that’s the way they’ve always been done.

“We hate the Malfoys, because we’ve been taught to. We don’t associate properly with people we’re not formally allied with because that’s tradition. And we don’t dance with people of the same gender, because we’ve been told it’s not proper. Except that’s not right, is it? When I danced with Barty Crouch Jr, you didn’t mind, right?”

“No, of course not,” Dad hurried to say.

James met his gaze. “We talk about how we don’t discriminate against women, queer folk, creatures — anyone who’s different from us and/or marginalised by the Ton. But still, we adhere to that divide between Light and Dark. I think it’s time we stop talking the talk, and start walking the walk. Why shouldn’t we ally with Dark families?”

Mum frowned thoughtfully. “It’s less about their magical designation, and more about their politics, honey.”

“Well, yes,” James conceded. “But I don’t think refusing to associate with anyone who has different opinions from us is the way to go. If we ally and socialise with people in different factions than us, surely we’ll have a much better chance of persuading them to change their minds?”

This gave his parents pause.

Regulus spoke up then, having already discussed this and planned with James at length. “Slytherins and Dark Purebloods are a very isolated faction. Removing that isolation could very well have wide-ranging political effects.”

“I’m not saying we can reshape society on our own,” James hastened to correct, “but I don’t want to contribute to the same cycle that’s already going on. I want to be better. I want to try expanding the breadth of our allies into new factions.”

Mum blew out a heavy breath, shaking her head wryly. “You want to change things with the power of friendship. How you.”

Regulus smirked. “If it helps, consider it extending the Potter influence and manipulating a wider audience of people to further your own agenda.”

Mum smiled. “That does help, honestly. It’s a rather savvy move, now that I think about it.”

Dad side-eyed them. “I don’t know about all of that…” He turned to look at James again, “but I can get behind you wanting to let go of old grudges and break down some barriers. Just… do you have to start with the Malfoys of all people? We’ve been enemies for generations!”

“I think that’s exactly why we should start with them,” James declared with bravado. “If we can pull this off, everything else will be easier afterwards. Go big or go home, right? Dare to stand?”

“Stand to dare,” Dad sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re going to be the death of me. How on earth did I end up with a Gryffindor son again?”

“I have no idea,” Mum shook her head fondly. “So, what do you need from us?”

Regulus and James exchanged a look.

“How about the deed to that land in Wiltshire the Malfoys have been after for ages?”

*

Lucius Malfoy paced as he read over the proposed alliance contract James had handed him. Every so often, he would glance up at James and frown, or at his wife and look conflicted, or at Regulus and look cautious. James considered it a win that he was even reading it at all — he’d half-expected the bloke to toss it into the fireplace and be done with him.

It was a fairly simple contract, basically stating that their Houses would be officially linked. It didn’t automatically mean they had to agree on every issue or help each other when asked, it was more of a… promise. Kind of like the friendship rules James made with Marlene and Peter when they were seven — did they always follow them? Not necessarily. But was it cute that they’d felt the need to put their friendship in writing as kids? Hell yeah.

An alliance contract was — hilariously enough — the same concept. It basically discouraged grown men from being mean to each other, on account of formalised friendships between them. If, for example, the Malfoys and Potters signed an alliance contract, then the Malfoys deliberately fucked them over somehow, James would be able to kick up a fuss and wave the contract around. No legal repercussions, but the social shame of betraying an ally wasn’t something to scoff at. It made people think you’re untrustworthy, and no-one wants to do business with someone slippery.

Eventually, Lucius stopped pacing to stare at James again, his practically translucent eyebrows drawing inwards. “What do you get out of this? What is the motivation?”

Ah. James could go on his spiel about making change through ‘the power of friendship’, as his Mum had put it, but Regulus had strongly advised against that. He’d coached James through an approach that he insisted would appeal far more to Lucius Malfoy. He glanced at the boy and Regulus nodded, urging him to speak.

“You want the honest truth?” James stared Lucius down, cocking a performative brow.

The man gave a sharp nod, curiosity mounting.

He took a breath, preparing himself to embellish the hell out of this.

“The truth is… I want more.”

In tandem, the two blondes’ eyes gleamed.

“Right now,” James leaned his forearms on his knees, like he was revealing something, “I have half the Ton at my back. You have the other half. And that puts us at a stalemate. But if we were to join forces…? If I could expand into the Darker faction of the Ton and gain a foothold there…? Well, I’m sure you can imagine the possibilities.”

“You’re talking about allying with more than just House Malfoy,” Narcissa breathed out, intrigued. “You want multiple allies on both sides.”

James spread his hands, faux nonchalant. “Why not? Why should I be limited to only what I’ve inherited? Why shouldn’t I push for more?”

Greed glimmered in Lucius’s gaze.

“If you enter alliance with House Potter,” Regulus interjected neutrally, “it would allow you a foot in the door to do the same.”

“That is a fair point,” Narcissa looked to her husband, studying his features.

But scepticism still held Lucius back. “Why would an alliance even be beneficial? Our Houses never align on political issues.”

James smirked. “False. I happen to know that you are planning to vote the same way as my parents on their proposed Veela Bill.”

The other man stilled. “Why would I vote pro-creature?”

“Because a significant portion of your wealth is tied up in bonds at a Veela-run bank in France,” Regulus matched James’s smirk.

Lucius seethed. “Is there anything you haven’t divulged to him?”

“I am a member of House Potter now,” Regulus argued dismissively. “I am simply acting in my own interests.”

The blond looked between James and Regulus with a crease between his brows. “How do I know that any of this is even the real truth? Has the Gryffindor suddenly developed ambition, or is someone pulling his strings?” He narrowed his eyes pointedly at Regulus.

The boy only sat back with a wicked glint in his eye. How he managed to appear so comfortable on this stupid fucking sofa, James had no idea.

“He is a Gryffindor, yes. But appearances may be deceiving.” Regulus’s smirk abruptly sharpened. “This is the son of Euphemia Potter, you are negotiating with. It would be wise not to forget that.”

Immediately, the Slytherins turned back to James with re-evaluation written all over their faces. Euphemia Potter’s reputation was well-known, and it seemed that her fellow Slytherins greatly respected her ambition, her cunning, and her… less than conventional tactics. While James was definitely more like his father, the Malfoys didn’t have to know that. Implying that he’d learned a thing or two from her… well, he could see why that would change their perception of him.

Lucius picked up the contract again, eyes skimming across the words at impressive speed. “There is no blood seal specified here. Are you hoping to arrange a betrothal between my future progeny and yours?”

Again, blood ties weren’t necessary for alliances, but some of the older families preferred them. The Malfoy-Black alliance, for instance, was sealed by the marriage of the two individuals in front of him.

James shrugged and fought down a smile. “No, no. We already have blood ties between our families. A betrothal seems unnecessary.”

Lucius’s head whipped up, almost offended. “What are you talking about? Our Houses have not intermarried in centuries!”

At this, James couldn’t hold back his grin. “I was referring to the other two people in this room, actually.”

Realisation dawned in pale blue eyes.

Meanwhile, the two Blacks locked gazes with each other, and James could practically see the shadows of mischief and amusement behind their still-neutral faces.

“Technically,” Narcissa began delicately, “I am a member of House Malfoy who shares blood with Mr Regulus Black, a recognised member of House Potter.”

“That means our Houses are already bound by blood,” Regulus continued, dripping with vindication. “A formal acknowledgment of that fact is all it would take to seal an alliance.”

Lucius’s expression pinched as he regarded his wife. “Do you think me a fool? That I would not spot your game?”

In a move James could just as easily see Regulus doing, Narcissa smirked at her husband as though he were an idiot, but she found it quite cute. “Oh darling,” she picked up his hand and caressed it softly. “This is no game. But if it were, I would win.”

Lucius looked unimpressed but didn’t pull away or drop eye contact. They proceeded to have a whole silent conversation, consisting of a hundred subtle variations on raised eyebrows and an indecipherable range of quirked lips, for several long minutes. Every time Lucius frowned, Narcissa would stroke his hand and the frown would melt right off his face. James had to look away or he would start laughing.

His gaze found Regulus’s, and he smiled on automatic, enjoying the victorious glint in the other boy’s eyes.

‘What do you think?’ James mouthed, nodding his head in the direction of the Malfoys.

The corner of Regulus’s lip curved up the slightest amount. A glaring, ‘It’s a yes,’ if James had ever seen one.

He grinned wider, pleased with their success, which had Regulus rolling his eyes, though the action seemed fond.

A polite clearing of the throat finally pulled James’s attention away. Narcissa was eyeing the two of them, a hint of calculation behind her gaze, whilst Lucius managed to look simultaneously excited about the contract, and resigned that it was with James at the same time.

“So?” He vocalised, tilting his head expectantly.

Lucius sighed. “Let me find a quill.”

*

A significant number of heads swivelled in their direction as the quartet re-entered the ballroom. They’d been gone just long enough to attract attention and drum up interest among the Ton — so ravenous for gossip at every turn.

“Let us toast. We have cause for celebration after all!” Narcissa proclaimed, her voice only a touch louder than necessary, so that everyone around them would still feel like they were eavesdropping. Onlookers tittered in anticipation, their intrigue only piqued by her words. But composed as she was, Narcissa paid no attention to those around them. She gestured to the nearest server, a gentle and elegant wave of the hand that had a waistcoated man with a silver platter of fluted glasses hurrying over in an instant. They each took a glass of bubbling liquid, James smirking sideways at Regulus.

“Aren’t you too young for that?” He teased.

“Try and stop me,” the boy drawled lazily back.

Lucius coughed to get their attention, raising his glass when they acquiesced. “To us!” He began grandiosely, practically preening at all the eyes on them. “To the new alliance between House Malfoy and House Potter!”

“Hear, hear!” James agreed, clinking his glass against the blond’s with gusto, the two Blacks following suit with far more restraint.

“To us, cousin,” Narcissa echoed, the barest hint of fondness threaded through her tone.

Regulus very nearly smiled. “To us,” he replied quietly.

James tucked his grin into his glass as he sipped the liquid down.

Like they’d been summoned, Mum floated over with Dad on her arm. “It’s official then?” The latter asked. When James confirmed, Dad shook hands with Lucius whilst Mum nodded and smiled warmly at Narcissa, expressing how much they were looking forward to embarking on this new alliance.

The whole spectacle sent ripples throughout the hall, some aghast, others bewildered, most reactions more muted, but all shocked to some degree. These two Houses aligning was news. And more than that — it was something James was certain absolutely no-one had predicted.

“It is a surprising but exciting opportunity for us all,” Narcissa was saying graciously to Mum, who nodded in agreement.

“Yes, when James proposed the idea, my husband and I were rather surprised, but we quickly understood his reasonings,” Mum agreed for everyone to hear, letting it be known that James had instigated all of this.

It sent yet another round of whispers throughout the crowd, but James stood tall and ignored it, looking around at the group he was standing with. Here he was, at the last public event of his debut season, ending it on a high. He’d accomplished so much in so little time — grown so much too.

He’d first debuted only ten days ago, embarrassed himself with the caketastrophe, but come back strong at the Greengrass Ball. He’d faced down public scorn and triumphed. Laughed in the face of insults. He’d won his broom race, contributed a lot of money to deserving causes, made new friends, and built up a reputation worth people throwing marriage offers at his feet. He’d figured out his sexuality (more or less), come out to his family, and made a statement to the Ton about it too — unashamed to admit his queerness, unafraid to break the gender constraints and dance with a dude. He’d persuaded many more votes to affect actual legislative change in the country. He’d spoken up for groups of people currently unable to defend themselves. He’d learned all about Christmas, and had expanded his cultural understanding of muggles.

And now, here he was, speaking on behalf of his House, successfully negotiating a new alliance that no-one had even dreamed was possible before him. And he’d done it all before his first season out as an adult was even through.

James was proud of himself. He remembered how anxious and unsure he’d been about all of this at the start, and he could feel in his soul how much he’d grown since then. He stood a little straighter, head a little higher, because he now knew how much he was capable of. Somewhere in the depths of his ribcage, a seed of hope had taken root — hope, and honest belief, that James could do this. He could embody the title of Heir, and be worthy of it. He could take a sledgehammer to Society and shake things up around here. And one day, when his parents finally decided to step down, he could take on the title of Lord and succeed at it.

He believed that he could do it.

So, when Walburga and Orion Black crashed the party, James was not about to let them ruin his good mood.

“What is the meaning of this?” Lady Black hissed at Lucius and Narcissa. She looked so startlingly like Sirius, James hated it sometimes. From her alabaster skin, to the sharp contours of her face, to her piercing grey eyes, she was a Black through and through. At present, she wore a sweeping robe the same colour as her namesake, her posture rigid and her hair twisted into an austere bun. Her gaze was livid.

Regulus resembled his father more, the man standing woodenly at his wife’s side. He had a square jaw and irises the colour of graphite, his hair greying at the temples. He looked… tired, more than anything. Noticeably so. James had no love for the man, but he nonetheless found himself wondering if he was well. His eyes were nearly vacant as he fixed his gaze on his youngest son.

“We are simply celebrating our newest alliance, tantine,” Narcissa answered steadily, every inch of her aura sharpened enough to cut.

Lady Black’s ire flamed hotter, much like Sirius when he was fired up. Unlike Sirius, however, her words were nasty. “How dare you stoop so low?” She bit out, voice still whispered low like she was trying her best to go unnoticed despite the many onlookers. “We do not ally with such rabble!”

Lucius’s reply was droll, almost lethargic. “Last I checked, you have no say in House Malfoy’s alliances, Lady Black.”

“Nor House Potter’s,” James added cheerfully, out of fucks to give when it came to Walburga Black. If he never saw her again, it would be too soon. And if he could get away with punching her in the face, he’d do it without hesitation. “Though, if you would like to discuss allying with us, I would be more than willing to do so.”

Lady Black reared back in immediate revulsion, making James’s heart sing with glee. As disgusting as the thought of allying with her was, it was worth the comment to see the look on her face. Oh, that was priceless.

As for the rest of them? Regulus and Narcissa smirked, and Mum’s eyes shone with pride. Lucius seemed reluctantly impressed, whilst Dad tried not to gag at the thought. (Still worth it.)

“I would never associate with the likes of a no-good—”

“Careful there,” James interrupted the raging woman carelessly. “I don’t think you want to say anything that would damage your reputation. We all know how much that means to you. More than anything else, I hear.”

“I know what you are doing!” She jabbed a finger at him. “First, my children, next—”

“We can talk about your children if you want,” James cut in, yet again. “We can talk at length about why they live with me, under my roof, instead of yours. We can do that here and now,” he bluffed, for the sheer satisfaction of watching her clamp her mouth shut, eyes molten.

“You do not know what kind of enemy you are making,” Walburga ground out, jaw tight.

James stared her down. “I know exactly who you are, Lady Black,” he sneered the title with as much mocking and disdain as he could muster. “I know what you are capable of. I know how you think. How you act. I know everything you did and said in the dark. Every little detail you probably never wished for me to know.”

He smiled at her. It wasn’t a kind smile.

“Now tell me, Lady Black. How much do you know about me?”

He sipped his drink casually, letting the question sit in the air.

Because James was an unknown to Walburga Black. She’d never cared to learn much about James, simply punishing Sirius for refusing to drop their friendship and leaving it at that. She had no idea who she was stepping into the ring with. He’d been hearing about her for years. He could predict her moves before she even made them — and those he couldn’t, he could simply ask Sirius or Regulus to help. She, on the other hand, was going in blind.

James would take great pleasure in destroying her.

Eventually, Walburga spoke again, every inch of her body seeping with malice. “I know you are a child, playing at a game you have no experience in.”

James quirked an unbothered brow. “How embarrassing that I’m already beating you then. Right, Regulus?”

The boy bared his teeth. “Downright shameful.”

A shrieking cackle erupted into existence. It was a wild thing. Animal and unhinged.

A few steps to the right, Bellatrix Lestrange née Black was watching the scene with a manic gleam in her eye. Her thin body was tucked into a daring leather bodice, her mane of black curls spilling down around her shoulders. A glass of champagne hung loosely between her fingertips. “You,” she locked her charcoal grey eyes on James, pointing a long, painted nail at him, “are interesting!”

Surprised by this twist of events, James just tried to go with the flow. He bowed his head respectfully. “Lady Lestrange. I also go by ‘dashing’. Sometimes, ‘reprobate’. Perhaps, ‘impertinent’, if we’re being entirely honest.”

Lestrange grinned a sharp grin. “Send me an alliance contract by owl. I’ll have my husband sign it.”

His eyebrows shot up, too caught off guard to school his features properly.

Beside him, Regulus coughed. Pointed.

He startled into functioning again. “As you wish, my Lady.”

Vindicated, she held the glass in her hand out to the side and dropped it, no care for the way it smashed unceremoniously onto the floor in a mess of glass shards and bubbling liquid. Without looking down, she strode over to James and looked expectantly up at him. “Let’s dance, future ally.”

Blinking in bewilderment, James offered her his hand. Honestly what else was he supposed to do? When a Black told him to do something, he was going to do it. (The exceptions being Walburga and her generation, of course. Though Alphard seemed quite nice.)

And so, they danced, twirling around together at the woman’s behest. The band were playing a Waltz, but Bellatrix ignored the music entirely and embarked upon a Paso Doble. James just tried to keep up, finding himself grinning at the ridiculousness and the sheer lack of care Bellatrix had towards the world around her. Her energy felt raw and dangerous, but intoxicating, nonetheless. It reminded him vaguely of a different Black. One equally dangerous, but maddeningly alluring.

About halfway through the dance, James turned and noticed Regulus and Narcissa waltzing together to his left. They had their heads facing away from each other as the proper technique called for, but they were conversing quietly as they moved.

His gaze met Regulus’s for the briefest of seconds. All James could see in his eyes was joy. And well… didn’t that make everything better?