It was a rare sight to find all four Marauders in the library at once. Peter and Remus were huddled over a crumpled piece of parchment, heads close as they murmured about which ingredients they’d need to “borrow” from Slughorn’s stores. Across from them, Sirius sprawled back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table’s edge as he absently tapped his quill against his chin, eyes glinting as he watched James, who was pretending—poorly—to look interested in their so-called 'study session'.
“Tell me, Prongs,” Sirius said, sizing up James with a smirk, “how is it you can plummet off your broom in front of the whole school, and still think you’re Gryffindor’s golden boy?”
James rolled his eyes, his grin wide and, yes, a little embarrassed. “I was trying something new, Pads. Greatness requires risk-taking.”
Remus snorted softly without looking up from his notes. “You tried a Barrel Roll, without aiming for the Quaffle. Risk-taking, or just idiocy?”
Peter looked up from the parchment, smirking. “If you were aiming for the ground, I’d say it was dead-on, James.”
Sirius snickered and nudged James. “You know, for a bloke who spends ninety percent of his day thinking he’s Merlin’s gift, you flush red real easily.” He reached over, poking James’s warm cheek. “Seriously, you’re practically glowing.”
“Shut up,” James hissed, cheeks indeed heating up a shade deeper. He gave Sirius a shove back, though he couldn’t quite suppress the smirk twitching at his mouth.
Amidst their muffled laughter, Madam Pince shot them a scowl from behind her desk, causing James to slump forward, trying to look studious, though his hand was still hovering over Sirius’s quill, ready to swat it.
Of all the insufferable, noisy, and oblivious idiots Regulus could be forced to share space with, it had to be his brother and his foolish friends. He did his best to ignore them, pulling the potions text of the shelf and closer, his eyes glued to the shelves. Still, he couldn’t help but hear them—a snicker here, a hushed argument there.
He hadn’t meant to look up. But his eyes betrayed him, drifting toward the Marauders’ table just in time to catch the ridiculous blush on James Potter’s cheeks.
What an idiot, he thought, trying to convince himself that he wasn’t interested. But somehow, that flash of red made his heart stutter, just for a second.
“Cute.”
The thought slipped out, so quietly that he barely heard himself say it. But the instant James’s head whipped around, those bright, startled eyes meeting his, he knew he’d made a mistake.
“What?” James asked, eyebrows quirking up, his blush still fresh.
Regulus’s mind went blank with panic, and before he could think better of it, his face curled into a mask of disdain.
His mind scrambling for a cover. “I said you look like a sack of shit,” he replied sharply, doing his best to mask the mortified heat creeping up his own neck. “Honestly, Potter, fuck you.”
He spun around, ignoring the look of shock on James’s face, the baffled stares from the others. His heart hammering as he replayed that moment in his mind, groaning internally at his own slip.
James stared after Regulus’s retreating figure, feeling entirely wrong-footed. That couldn’t have been what he thought he’d heard. Regulus was Sirius’s younger brother, the serious one, always too busy looking vaguely annoyed with everyone else to even crack a smile. But for a moment... well, he could’ve sworn he’d seen something almost soft in Regulus’s eyes.
James blinked, glancing back at the table, where Sirius was practically vibrating with silent laughter, Remus’s eyebrows were nearly at his hairline, and Peter looked confused as ever.
“Did he just—?” Remus began, but James cut him off.
“I don’t know, Moony,” he muttered, ears red as he stared at the space where Regulus had disappeared. His fingers unconsciously traced his cheek, feeling the lingering warmth.
“Cute, huh?” Sirius whispered, barely containing his delight.
“Oh, shut up, Pads.”