Quidditch
James was strutting down one of Hogwarts’ many halls, whistling, hands in his pockets. To anyone who saw him, it would look like he owned the place; in that moment, he sort of felt like he did. He had had Quidditch practice that morning and it had gone great, the team in shape for the match that was two weeks away; the Slytherin vs Hufflepuff game was that very afternoon. He was back at mischief with the Marauders, planning another big prank, planning the Halloween/celebratory party (in case they won the match, since both events happened within the same week), and he knew for a fact Sirius and Remus had solved whatever had been going on between them and were back to being friendly. There was still the issue of how Peter kept sneaking out, thinking no one noticed, but he knew he’d tell them eventually who the girl was. He seemed so happy as of late, and James didn’t want to spoil that for him.
So yes, life was feeling good at the moment.
He was walking from the Arithmancy classroom back to his dorm to meet up with his friends and head out to the Pitch to watch the game. He was the only one of them taking the class (Remus preferred Ancient Runes, Sirius had laughed his ass off when he suggested the idea, and Peter had simply shrugged in apology and said “no way, mate”), which meant the spent his time in class actually doing the work. It was nice; despite what his friends said, he liked arithmancy. So yeah, maybe at first it had to do with a certain redhead also taking the class, but he’d come to like it so much that he actually paid attention to the material instead of her.
It was odd, but recently he’d found himself thinking less and less about Lily. That was something decidedly new; he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the first time he’d seen her, all the way back to the train ride in their first year. He hadn’t stopped to think much about what it meant. Maybe he didn’t want to know why it was happening, so he tried to shove the thought to the back of his mind.
His mind was wandering around, thinking about Lily and how he wasn’t thinking as much about her anymore, barely paying attention to his surroundings as he walked. He liked taking the long route to the Common Room whenever he had this class because it gave him time to think, to ponder. James loved people, and being near them filled him with energy, but sometimes he needed some time to be alone. And these few minutes of solitude were precious to him.
So, he took the long route, and walked it alone. Sirius had the map today, something about playing a small prank on Snape and Mulciber, so he left him to it; this part of the castle was usually deserted at this time anyway.
He still had a couple of hours before the Quidditch match, so he figured it didn’t hurt to walk slowly. He let his wind wander in a way he normally didn’t whenever he was with people -whenever he needed to focus-, and his thoughts circled back to Regulus. He had not discussed anything about him with Sirius since the party, and that had been nearly a month ago. It wasn’t that he didn’t worry about the younger boy anymore, he did, but he didn’t quite know how to bring the subject up with Sirius. Worried what the other boy might say, now that he was sober and had time to think about it more. Worried that he didn’t feel the need to get him out of Grimmauld Place anymore.
Sirius had always loved Regulus, but he was also too hard on him. James had heard him complain countless times, how he was just like their mother, how he did how he was told and didn’t even bother to question them, how-
His train of thought was interrupted when he heard a loud thump from the next hall over. Said thump was followed by a groan, a colorful array of curses, and voices so hushed he couldn’t understand what they were saying.
James, and all of his curiosity, could not bear to not peek around the corner and see what that was all about.
He was perplexed to see there was a tall guy, who he didn’t recognize, with his back to him, standing on top of another student, much shorter than him, at the end of the short hall. They were standing really close to one another, the tall guy hunched over the other student, whispering angrily at them. All James could make out about him was his blond, short hair, and he had a bad feeling about the guy.
“Oi! What’s going on here?” He immediately questioned, his wand already out, ready to use it if needed.
There was no need, though, because upon hearing the voice the tall guy cursed and left, almost running. All James caught was a flash of a yellow tie, and then he was gone. He didn’t even manage to see his face and thought for a second about chasing him down.
What he did see, though, kept him glued to the spot for a second. Regulus was standing there, by the end of the hall, grey eyes unfocused and chest heaving. James barely registered his face before sprinting to the end of the hall to get to him, putting his wand in his pocket hastily.
When he got to Regulus, he saw his face was blanched. He was standing in his Quidditch robes already but seemed to be out of it. He didn’t even seem to register James standing there, just breathing heavily, eyes unfocused and cast down.
James wanted to touch him, but he remembered his reaction during the party, how scared he'd looked, and thought better of it. “Hey, sunshine,” he said, gently, putting his hands on each side of Regulus’ face, close but not touching. “Everything’s fine now, okay? He’s gone. Try breathing with me.”
James hadn’t been sure if Regulus was listening to him, but he started copying his breathing, so he figured it was working. He continued breathing in a calm inhale, exhale and, slowly, Regulus’ breathing matched his.
After a few more minutes, Regulus sighed, and his eyes locked with James’. “Ah, there you are,” James said, relieved, drinking up Regulus’ expression. “Can I touch you?” it felt weird, asking, but he thought it might be better. He was sure he couldn’t just touch, wasn’t sure if it was something Regulus would want.
Regulus didn’t hide the surprise in his eyes at the question. He looked at James for a few moments, scrutinizing his expression, and then shook his head. James nodded at that; even if he didn’t exactly understand why the other boy had trouble with touch, he could respect it. He already did with Remus, and he wasn’t about to botch things up with Regulus over something as stupid as a reassuring touch, especially if he didn’t like it.
He’d been unconsciously pulling closer to the other boy, only centimeters away now, and thus he forced himself back a couple of steps, so Regulus had more room to breathe.
His hands fell by his sides, aching for something to do, but he willed them to stay still. “What in Salazar’s name were you doing around these halls? This part of the castle is usually empty.” Regulus’ voice was shaky.
James shrugged. “I normally take this route when I go from Arithmancy to my room.”
“You’re basically doing a lap of the entire castle,” Regulus informed him bluntly, and James only shrugged again. It was true, but this was also the time he normally used to think. If he wanted to extend it by taking a long route, well, sue him.
They stayed in silence, looking at each other for a few more moments. James was aching to ask who it had been, and what their business was, but he didn’t want to intrude in Regulus’ life. Wasn’t sure if the other boy would even answer. “Don’t you have a Quidditch match to win?” He asked instead.
This, at least, brought the hint of a smirk to Regulus’ face. “I do, actually. I told you; we’re winning the Cup this year.”
James smiled despite himself. The more time that passed, the more that Regulus composed himself, and the more he looked like his usual self. Maybe James thought Regulus’ usual self lacked smiling and was emotionally constipated to the moon and back, but it was a hundred times better than the version he’d encountered minutes before. The out of it, barely hanging on version.
“You can definitely try, sunshine,” he answered, feeling his lips curl in a challenging smile.
Regulus arched an eyebrow, apparently fully back to his bratty little self, and James wanted to beam at that. “Think I can’t beat you, Potter?”
He snorted. “With the team I’m building? Not really, no.” A beat. “Also, I thought we were already on a first-name basis,” he added, and he wasn’t sure why he said it, why it was important to him that Regulus called him James again, but it was. He liked the way his name sounded on Regulus’ lips.
Regulus sighed. “We’re not friends, though. I only call my friends by their first names.”
James put a hand on his chest and made a big show of seeming offended. “Not friends? Oh, whatever will I do!”
That got a small chuckle out of Regulus. It was the second time James made him laugh, and the sound was still beautiful. He wanted to continue doing that; he wanted to always make Regulus laugh.
“You’re such an idiot,” Regulus said, shaking his head in disapproval, but his tone lacked its usual snark and James was all for it, if he was honest.
“We’ve been over this, sunshine. I know that, and you know that, so why are you still talking to me?” It was meant to be a small jab at himself, but that actually seemed to light something inside of Regulus, because he looked at James for a second and started walking down the corridor. James started off behind him. “Wait! Why are you leaving?”
“Because you’re right. I don’t have to put up with you, actually.” His voice was back to its usual mean tone, and James wasn’t sure what about what he’d said was wrong, but he wanted to reverse it immediately.
“Oh, come on, did I offend you? I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, not even knowing what for, as he caught up to Regulus and started walking by his side, hands in his pockets to keep them from doing something stupid.
Regulus shook his head again but said nothing.
They continued walking side by side, James unsure on what to say, until they got to a passage in which Regulus had to take the stairs down to the pitch and James had to turn left, circling back towards Gryffindor tower. He expected Regulus to continue walking without looking at him but, surprisingly, he turned to look at James, grey eyes carefully neutral.
“This is where we go our separate ways,” he said, and maybe James was imagining it, but he sounded a little bitter at that.
“I could walk you to the pitch if you wanted.” He didn’t know what made him offer that, but the words tumbled out of his lips before he could stop them.
Regulus looked at him, blankly, and didn’t answer.
“That’s a no, then,” James said, and his heart was weirdly hurt at that, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he smiled at Regulus and leaned against the railway of the stairs. “Well go off, then, and good luck on your game. I’ll be cheering for you.”
Regulus actually blushed at the comment, his cheeks flushed red in a way that made James smile wider. He looked lovely. “Goodbye, James,” he said, in that posh accent of his, and oh, there was his name again, and that made James’ heart burst in his chest, doing some weird fluttering that had him blushing in turn. He was thankful for his darker skin, because he was almost sure it wasn’t showing, but he had blushed, nonetheless.
Regulus started going down the stairs when James recovered enough to give him an answer. “Goodbye, sunshine! I never doubted we were friends!”
He continued going down the stairs, not looking at him. “Still not friends,” he called out.
James watched him leave before turning around and starting a slight jog back to the tower. He was probably late by now and, if he didn’t hurry, his friends would start questioning where he was. For some reason, he didn’t want any of them opening the map and seeing him with Regulus.
He got to the portrait of the Fat Lady as his friends were coming out, the girls with them. Sirius, Remus, and Peter were huddled together, talking in hushed voices. Lily and Mary were engrossed in a conversation amongst themselves, Marlene looking straight ahead. She was the first to spot him.
“James!” Marlene greeted him, throwing herself at him. He hugged her back. He didn’t know why, but ever since the start of term she’d been more receptive to his hugs, and well, James would never pass up an opportunity to hug anyone.
He kept it short, though, turning to look at Remus, Peter, and Sirius. Remus had a book in his hand and was using the map as a bookmark, both ends of parchment peeking out from the ends of the book.
“We were about to look for you, mate,” he said, his tone clipped, and James had the feeling that he knew who he’d been with. Didn’t know why he felt the need to hide it, but he did, so he gave Remus a smile and put a hand around Peter’s and Sirius’ shoulders.
He wouldn’t be able to hide it for long, though. He really needed to have a chat with Sirius.
“Yeah, pumpkin, I just took the long route from the Arithmancy classroom.” In his defense, that was true; the fact that he’d found Regulus while on said path was something he didn’t deem worth mentioning, at least not yet.
Remus looked at him one last time, almost like he was giving him a chance to say something, before shrugging and turning to Sirius. “You reckon Slytherin will win, or are you going for Hufflepuff?” James almost laughed, seeing as Remus had to be desperate to talk about anything if he was turning to Quidditch, but he said nothing. He was pretty sure the distraction was because of him, which made a sinking feeling form in the pit of his stomach.
Sirius snorted, seemingly not noticing this. “If Slytherin keeps up with what they did last year, Hufflepuff will have a walk in the park with them.” James winced before he could stop himself, and Sirius saw it. “What? You think Slytherin’s got it?”
James’ brain scrambled to get a hold of everything he knew about Quidditch before something stupid tumbled out of his mouth. “I mean, I know Hufflepuff won the Cup last year, but their captain also graduated, and their best Chaser and Seeker with him. Yes, Florence is shaping up to be a good captain, from what I’ve heard, but losing three key players has to be tough to replace.”
“You want to bet on that?” Mary’s smile was sharp when he turned to look at her.
Peter huffed. “We all know better than betting against you, Mary,” he said, and James and Sirius nodded their agreement. Remus snorted, still looking from James to Sirius like he was trying to decide whether to chime in or not.
“I still think Hufflepuff has it, to be honest. Their beaters are out of this league” Sirius muttered, the admission making him grumpy.
Remus looked at him like he wanted to say something, but James was faster. “You and Emery are also shaping up to be a feared pair, I just know it.”
“It’s not the same as it was with Alice, though, and we couldn’t even beat them then.”
James hummed, noncommittally, because that was true. Last year’s final had been Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff, with Frank and Alice almost running them to the ground with practice, wanting to get the Cup before they graduated. They had sadly lost, when the Hufflepuff seeker and theirs, Gabriel, had raced towards the snitch. It had almost been luck that the other guy had gotten to it first, something no one held against Gabriel, even if James personally knew how angry Frank had been after that game. He had thought then that it had been the reason the captaincy had gone to him and not Gabriel, but Frank had confessed to him on their last party of the year that it was because James was more of a leader. He’d beamed at that, if he was honest, and even though Frank was one, he took his job seriously partly because he wanted to make him proud.
He was reminiscing about that last match and lost himself in a daydream in the process, staying silent until they got to the pitch.
They were still early enough that getting to the stands was easier than usual, but not enough that it was entirely empty. Both teams were down below, still on the ground, warming up before going on their brooms, and this was why James had insisted they get there early.
His friends all sat down behind him, almost in the center of the pitch, on one of the higher steps, a good spot by all accounts. James remained on his own two feet, though, shuffling closer to the rail to get a look at their warmups from above. He wanted to get the intel on their strategies, and he knew that watching them warm up would be the first sign of that.
He was looking down, analyzing the Hufflepuff’s stretching techniques, when he felt a presence beside him. He turned his head for a second and saw Remus standing beside him.
“You were with Regulus.” It wasn’t a question, and his tone wasn’t judging. He was simply stating a fact. Without looking at him, James nodded. He wasn’t about to argue or get into the specifics of it, because yes, at the end of it, he’d been talking with Regulus. “Does Sirius know?”
“Not really, no,” he said and did his best to keep his attention trained on the pitch. “I’ll tell him, though. Probably tonight. I feel too bad hiding things from him.”
Remus hummed in agreement. “Yeah, that’s fine, James. Just… you know I accept you, right? And I’d never force you to tell him if you didn’t want to.”
At that, James had to look back at Remus. His amber eyes were trained on him, looking for his reaction, his brown-blond hair all mussed up by the wind, courtesy of being so up high. His brows furrowed in confusion. What was Remus talking about? He had a feeling he was talking about an issue that ran deeper than just his talks with Regulus, his want to get him out of Grimmauld Place, even if he didn’t know what exactly he was referencing.
“What do you mean?” He asked, trying his best to understand the clearly hidden meaning in there, but his mind rang empty.
Remus’ eyes lit up in understanding and he blinked at him one, twice, three times, before speaking. “Fucking hell, you haven’t figured it out,” he said, and then laughed. A full-on laugh, a surprised one, that made James chuckle, even in his confusion. Remus’ true laughs were few and far between; he was normally one to go for small chuckles and knowing smiles, not laughs so wholehearted like this one.
“Figured what out?” he asked, once Remus had stopped laughing, but he only grinned at him with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
“When you figure it out, you’ll know.”
He was about to argue when Sirius popped up between the two of them and put his arms around them both. “What are we talking about?”
“I genuinely have no clue,” James said, because it was true. It made Remus burst out laughing again.
“Don’t worry about it, Pads,” Remus said, going to sit back down and opening his book.
James shook his head; that had been weird. Then, he turned and gave his full attention to the teams down on the ground, scouring the green-clad players until he found a head of dark curls and smiled at Regulus, even if he wasn’t looking at him, too busy doing some isometric exercises, his captain (a sixth year, James had never bothered learning his name) looking down on him.
He kept his trained on him until the brooms were out, and they did a few laps around the pitch. Only then did James sit, in between Remus and Mary, the boy to his left engrossed in a book, the girl to his right deep in a talk with Lily.
He waited patiently for the match to start, talking to Sirius and Peter over Remus, who didn’t seem to mind, engrossed in his book as he was.
Somewhere from below, Madame Hooch blew her whistle, and both teams shot up into the sky, the balls in play, the snitch nowhere to be seen. James did his best to focus on the game, looking for weaknesses on both teams, and filling in the gaps of their strategy. Most of the time, though, he was enraptured looking at Regulus, flying lazily around the pitch, moving out of the way from the other players. The other seeker was also a fourth year but, unlike Regulus, she’d never played for her team before, and so she was more frantic and seemed more nervous. James could tell.
Hufflepuff scored a goal, then three, and Slytherin scored two of their own. He watched the Slytherin Keeper closely, the way he had a preference for the centre and left rings, leaving the right one mostly undefended, and made a mental note of it. The Hufflepuff chasers had also sensed it, exploiting it, scoring two more goals. Then, he turned back to Regulus and saw he was squinting his eyes. He seemed to see something, jolting upright on his broom and then started moving, still pretending laziness, to the center of the pitch.
No one else was paying attention, but James couldn’t look away. “Oh, Merlin’s beard, he’s seen it,” he said, and he felt Mary’s eyes on him for a second before she turned and saw the same thing as him.
“Fucking hell, James, it’s in the middle of the pitch, how is he expecting to go there without anyone noticing? He’ll get trampled, best-case scenario,” she informed him, as if James didn’t already know, as if his heart wasn’t about to beat out of his chest because of it.
Remus looked up from his book, something James knew was short of a miracle. He never looked up during matches that weren’t Gryffindor; he just came along because they all ushered him out of the dorm before he could complain too much. Now, though, they looked up, amber eyes wide. “What the fuck does Regulus think he’s doing? The chasers are headed right for him.”
“That’s what I’m saying, pumpkin,” James answered, his voice tense, as Regulus continued a pretense of calm. He was almost in the middle of the pitch now, the chasers from Hufflepuff barreling towards him at full speed, not seeming to notice what he was looking at, and probably thinking he was just blocking them in some weird strategy. One of the beaters from Slytherin shouted something at Regulus, but he wasn’t paying attention, his gaze fixed intensely on the tiny golden ball, its fluttering wings above all of the players by just a few meters.
Suddenly, Regulus dived upwards with a bolt of speed that not even James saw coming. How had he sped up like that? He narrowly avoided the Hufflepuff chasers, who shouted something at him while they continued in possession of the Quaffle, Slytherins chasing them down, all of them still oblivious to what Regulus was doing. The Hufflepuff seeker hadn’t even stopped doing laps around the pitch.
They didn’t ignore him that much longer, though because suddenly Regulus was raising his hand triumphantly, snitch in his hand, and he actually smiled. James saw him scan the crowd, looking for someone, and when he located James his smile softened.
James blushed at that, and felt giddy, raising a fist at Regulus in celebration.
“I guess you were right, Prongs,” Sirius said, and James looked at him, still distracted by Regulus’ celebration, smiling at him. Sirius was arching an eyebrow at his raised fist, and James put it down slowly.
“Yeah, mate, I guess I was,” he said, sheepishly, and he turned back to watch Regulus do a celebratory lap, his teammates right behind him, the entirety of the Slytherins gathered in the stands cheering.
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That night, James decided he needed to stop avoiding the conversation with Sirius.
He waited until they had all gone to bed and, for the first time in almost five years of friendship, he was the one to tumble onto Sirius’ bed.
Sirius had his eyes closed like he was about to fall asleep or already was, but he opened them as soon as the curtain swished open. His grey eyes widened in surprise at James, but he immediately sat down and scooted over to open room for him.
“James?” he mumbled, sleepily, and James realized he had, in fact, been about to fall asleep.
“We can talk another time, mate, if you’re too…” but Sirius shook his head, patting the mattress beside him, and so James plopped down on it, Sirius putting his arm around James’ shoulders and him basking in the contact.
He didn’t know how to bring the topic up, so he just sat there, looking at his tanned hands, until Sirius tugged on his shirt and James turned to look at him. “What’s wrong, Prongs?” His voice was soft, and he was scanning James’ face with concern.
Right, so James wasn’t usually one to ask for help for his own problems. Not to his friends, not even to his family, most of the time. He just felt that he’d had it easy the entirety of his life, and maybe that meant that he should try to solve everything on his own. Most of the time, he managed to, but this was something he needed help with, James realized. It also wasn’t his own problem, so he told himself that it didn’t really count as asking for help for himself, not when he didn’t need it for himself in the first place.
James sighed and pushed a hand through his hair. “I’ve been… thinking about the conversation we had the night of the party. You do remember, right?” James asked because it suddenly occurred to him that Sirius had trouble remembering the stuff he said, or did, when he was drunk. What if it had only been a drunk thought, and he didn’t even remember at all?
However, Sirius nodded. “You mean about Regulus, right?” And his jaw tensed when he said the name, through gritted teeth, although his eyes betrayed him. Those were soft, always so soft when it came to his little brother. It was James’ turn to nod. “Don’t get me wrong, Prong, obviously I want him out of Walburga’s claws, but what could we, realistically, do?”
To that, James had to pause for a second. “We could get mum and dad involved,” he said, slowly, but Sirius shook his head, just like he knew he would.
“He has to want to get out before we do something like that. And Prongs, I really, truly, don’t think he wants to.” There was a stubborn set to Sirius’ face, but James could see that it was all bravado, that it was just him doing his best to not fall apart because of this. They had had many conversations like this over the years, where Sirius complained that Regulus had turned cold, that he was calculating where he used to be kind, and that he was turning out to be just like their mother. That it seemed like he didn’t even want to be saved from her.
James didn’t comment on the obvious way Sirius was holding himself together. Instead, he gave Sirius a small smile. “Well, doesn’t that mean we just have to show him how much better his life could be?”
“That wouldn’t work James, not with him. He’s too… stubborn to accept that.”
It was like Sirius wanted this to fail before James even had a chance to try, but he didn’t let this fact sour him. “I have been talking to him, you know,” he started, trying to sound casual, even though he could feel Sirius’ eyes boring into his head. “Maybe all he needs is a friend, someone he trusts, to get him out.”
“James. I was his best friend for years, and he gave that up the second it contradicted Mother enough.” Sirius’ tone was bitter. “I think only love, romantic love I mean, could save him, and he doesn’t strike as the kind of guy who would go out with someone who was a good enough influence to manage that.”
“So, you’re giving up on him?” James wasn’t sure why, but this information sat heavily on his chest, and he refused to believe it. To believe that Regulus was beyond saving.
Sirius sighed and bumped their shoulders together. “I really don’t want to, and I’m not going to stop you from talking to him. Who knows, maybe you do help, but… don’t get your hopes up, yeah? Regulus is different than me, in that he’s never really wanted to be saved.”
James went back to his own bed soon after that, his chest hollowed out, but his resolution now stronger than before. If Sirius wasn’t going to believe in Regulus, then James would.
He didn’t know why, but he simply had to.