Chapter 2
James was first to the Great Hall, sliding into his spot at the Gryffindor table, right beside Peter Pettigrew. Peter was a short, round boy with mousy brown hair that seemed to perpetually hang in unkempt strands around his face. His eyes darted animatedly as he gestured wildly, his voice a bit squeaky, punctuating every point he made about the Slytherin Quidditch team. “I swear, they think they can just show up and steal the cup! Can you believe it?” he exclaimed, his tone filled with a mix of indignation and awe.
James glanced across the room to where Regulus sat at the Slytherin table, surrounded by the usual crowd. Their eyes met for a split second, a quick flash of a smile hidden behind James’s trademark smirk.
Peter, oblivious to the entire exchange, elbowed James sharply. “I’m telling you, mate, they’re up to something. I heard Barty Crouch saying they’re switching to some kind of dark-flying maneuver this weekend. Can’t trust Slytherins.”
James gave a nonchalant shrug, more focused on Remus and Sirius, who had just entered, making their way over to the Gryffindor table. The hall erupted in groans and cries of disgust as Nearly Headless Nick glided by, regaling some fifth-years with one of his more gruesome tales.
“Honestly, Wormtail,” James cut in, cheerfully butting in as Peter paused to catch his breath, “I think your problem is you just don’t like people having fun without you. You and Filch ought to get together and compare notes. Imagine it! ‘The Filch and Pettigrew School of Disdain for Enjoyment,’” he added, grinning as Peter rolled his eyes.
“You’re one to talk about people causing trouble,” Peter muttered, scowling as James leaned back, balancing his chair on two legs.
Across the table, Sirius had slipped into a seat next to Remus, his arm slung casually over Remus’s shoulders. He flashed a grin at the surrounding Gryffindors, deflecting any serious attention by cracking a joke about McGonagall. But the humor didn't quite reach his eyes, and James noticed the way Sirius glanced at Remus, a touch of something intense flickering behind his smile.
“Alright, Moony?” Sirius said, his voice carefully light.
“Yeah, of course,” Remus replied, too quickly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” His hands were fidgeting with his silverware, a nervous habit that only seemed to increase under Sirius’s watchful gaze.
“Oh, I dunno,” Sirius replied, leaning in just enough to make Remus’s cheeks flush, “just wondering if maybe you’d had enough of my jokes yet.”
“Enough of you, more like it,” Remus muttered, the hint of a smirk betraying his words. But as soon as the laughter around them quieted, he shifted away, pulling at his sleeves as though he wished he could disappear under the table.
James leaned over, smirking as he whispered loudly, “Oi, Moony, some of us aren’t as subtle as you, you know. If you’re gonna spend breakfast staring into Padfoot’s eyes like he’s some kind of tortured hero, you might as well ask him on a date and save the rest of us the agony.”
“Shut up, James,” Remus muttered, his voice tight. But there was a flicker of something—of hope or fear—in his eyes, quickly concealed.
“Oh, please, it’s been ages of this!” one of the Gryffindor seventh-years shouted, throwing her hands in the air. “You two need to get together, for Merlin’s sake!”
A chorus of agreement erupted around them, claps and whistles adding to the laughter echoing through the hall. Remus’s face flushed a deeper red, and he muttered something about “ridiculous, nosy Gryffindors” under his breath, but Sirius only grinned wider, basking in the attention while trying to play it off with a shrug.
“You’re right, though,” Sirius said, turning to Remus with a daring smirk. “Think they’d let share a room alone if I asked?”
The Great Hall exploded in cheers and laughter, but Remus stiffened, glancing away sharply, his face unreadable. “Wouldn’t want to share a room alone with me,” he mumbled, too low for anyone else to hear. “Wouldn’t want to have a monster by your side.”
Sirius’s smirk vanished in an instant. “Don’t call yourself that,” he said, his voice quiet and laced with anger, as if he wanted to shake Remus for even thinking it. But he quickly masked it with his usual bravado, leaning back with a careless shrug. “If you’re a monster, then we’re all in trouble, aren’t we?”
From across the hall, a piercing laugh interrupted them. James glanced up to see Regulus with a sneer on his face, his gaze locked on Sirius. “Look at you,” Regulus called over the tables, his voice dripping with disdain. “The rebel of the family, charming his friends like he’s the savior of the whole bloody school. Pathetic.”
Sirius’s face went cold, and his fingers clenched on the table. The hall fell into a tense silence as James shot a warning look toward Regulus, while ghostly figures drifted by, barely pausing to watch. Peeves, hovering overhead with a mischievous grin, cackled and blew a raspberry between the two brothers, adding to the tension.
“Oh, Reg,” James called, grinning with a mischievous glint, “it’s good to see you care so much about Sirius. Brotherly love and all.”
Regulus’s glare could have cut glass. He gave a tight, dismissive smile, returning to his table and ignoring the murmured jabs of his Slytherin housemates. James noticed Barty Crouch, a twisted grin on his face, leaning toward Regulus, muttering something that made Regulus’s jaw tighten.
“Oh, look, Prongs is defending his precious Sirius,” Peter whispered mockingly, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I thought you were against all that family drama, mate?”
James shot him an exasperated look. “Shut it, Wormtail. I’ll handle drama when I see fit. Besides, it’s not ‘family drama’ when your family tries to turn you into a bloody pawn.”
Peter just shrugged, unconcerned, while James turned his attention back to Sirius, catching his friend’s eye with a look of solidarity. “We’ll show them,” James mouthed, his expression fierce and full of promise. Sirius gave a slight nod, appreciation glinting in his eyes.
Sirius exhaled, stealing a glance back at Regulus, who was now fully ignoring him. He turned to Remus, who was looking down at his food with an expression of silent longing.
“Let’s do something interesting tonight,” Sirius said, his voice pitched with a reckless edge. “Something properly Gryffindor.” He grinned at James, who lit up immediately, catching on.
“Absolutely,” James said, sitting up straighter. “I say we sneak down to the kitchen, ‘borrow’ some butterbeer, and teach Peeves a lesson in pranking. He’s been too quiet for too long.”
Remus’s face softened slightly, though there was still a shadow of doubt in his eyes. “And if we get caught?”
“Oh, c’mon, Moony, where’s that gryffindor spirit?” Sirius quipped, nudging Remus with a mischievous glint in his eye. “Besides, don’t you think you deserve a little fun?”
A ghost floated by, its shimmering form wavering near the Gryffindor table. The Bloody Baron gave them a disdainful look, hissing, “Troublemakers, the lot of you,” before gliding over to the Slytherin table with a nod to Regulus.
“See? Even the ghosts approve,” James said, chuckling. “We’re practically Hogwarts legends already.”
Remus cracked a reluctant smile, shaking his head. “You’re impossible.”
Sirius leaned closer, his gaze fixed on Remus’s face with a kind of intensity that made Remus’s breath hitch. “No, I’m serious,” he murmured, his voice a whisper only Remus could hear. “You’re not a monster, Remus. And I wish you’d stop seeing yourself that way.”
But before Remus could respond, the doors to the Great Hall flew open with a loud crash, and Peeves entered, grinning widely and blowing raspberries as he swooped over the tables.
“Oi, Peeves!” James shouted with a grin. “Bet you can’t manage to knock over Filch’s mop bucket again!”
Peeves cackled, performing a mid-air somersault as he yelled, “Challenge accepted, Mr. Potter!” And with that, he zoomed out of the hall, leaving behind a chorus of laughter and cheers.
James, beaming and pleased with himself, turned to his friends, spreading his arms in triumph. “See, lads? We’ve got the place wrapped around our little fingers.”
As Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them, James felt a rush of warmth fill the space between them all. Whatever happened outside of these walls, whatever shadows loomed, for now, they were untouchable. The hall buzzed with magic, laughter, and the kind of mischief that belonged only to them, reminding them of the strength they shared.
The laughter from the Great Hall buzzed like static, filling every corner as students returned to their breakfasts, occasional glances cast at the Gryffindor table where Sirius, Remus, and James sat like they were the unofficial kings of Hogwarts. Peter, still muttering his complaints under his breath, had his arms crossed in a sulky defiance as James barely contained his amusement.
Sirius leaned back, his posture loose and easy, but his eyes kept drifting back to the Slytherin table. Even in this crowded, noisy hall, Regulus’s presence lingered, a silent reminder of everything Sirius had left behind and all the choices that had brought him here.
“Oi, Padfoot,” James’s voice cut through the noise as he nudged Sirius’s shoulder, pulling him from his thoughts. “Stop looking so grim, mate. What, worried Peeves won’t actually follow through?” James flashed a crooked smile that practically glowed with mischief.
Sirius snorted, shaking his head. “I’d bet my wand on it. Peeves won’t let a good challenge slide. Poor Filch is about to have the day of his life.”
From across the room, Regulus’s cold gaze caught Sirius’s for a heartbeat, something almost soft flickering in his eyes before he looked away, masking it with the perfect Black-family stoicism. Sirius’s face remained impassive, but Remus noticed the tightness in his jaw.
“Is he always that… intense?” Remus asked quietly, his gaze following Sirius’s.
“Regulus? Intense? More like…” Sirius trailed off, hesitating, before quickly adding, “Just thinks he has to play a part. Makes you wonder if he’s ever actually himself.”
Remus gave a small nod, a sympathetic shadow crossing his face. “Can’t be easy, though, being told who you have to be from the start. I know what it’s like… thinking you don’t deserve anything better than what you’ve got.”
James, ever the optimist, leaned in between them, his grin breaking the tension. “Honestly, you two are doing this all wrong. The secret is to know you deserve everything! That’s why, as soon as breakfast is over, I say we go celebrate our utter brilliance in the kitchens. Butterbeer, biscuits, and maybe even a bit of harmless meddling.” His eyes sparkled with enthusiasm as he raised a fist in the air, which earned him a snicker from Sirius and a roll of the eyes from Remus.
“And who’s to say we deserve it, oh wise and humble James Potter?” Remus teased, a small smile creeping onto his face.
James scoffed, feigning offense as he pointed to himself. “The Head Boy of Gryffindor, that’s who! Elected by our dear professor Dumbledore himself. My brilliance is undeniable, thank you very much.”
Remus let out a quiet laugh, his gaze flicking back to Sirius, who was watching with a smirk, the earlier tension in his eyes softened slightly. “Don’t get too big-headed, Potter. We wouldn’t want you floating away on your own ego.”
Sirius snorted, jumping in, “Oh, he’d float away, all right. And somehow drag us along with him.”
Peter, who had been mostly silent, snickered as he turned his attention to Sirius, his tone laced with sarcasm. “Maybe you can finally get some attention off your precious brother, huh, Sirius? Must be exhausting seeing everyone look at him like he’s some prodigy.”
James’s laughter froze, and he shot Peter a warning glare, but Sirius’s mask had slipped back into place, the easy going demeanor now hardened. “Watch it, Wormtail,” he muttered, a flash of something dark in his eyes.
Peter, however, seemed oblivious, waving his hand dismissively as he continued. “I’m just saying, mate. The way everyone goes on about him. But you’re the real rebel, right?”
“Enough, Peter,” Remus said firmly, his voice low and commanding in a way that made Peter shrink slightly, finally sensing the tension.
James cleared his throat, seizing the chance to shift the mood. “Anyway, who cares about all that? The only prodigy here is the one who gets us into the kitchens and back out without getting caught.” He flashed an encouraging grin, nudging Sirius in the ribs. “And I, for one, know exactly how we’re doing it.”
“Care to share with the class, genius?” Remus asked, arching an eyebrow.
James leaned in conspiratorially. “All right, here’s the plan. We tell Peeves we’ve hidden something valuable in the Slytherin common room.”
Sirius broke into a grin, catching on. “Which will, naturally, drive him to raise absolute hell there. It’ll be a mad scramble.”
“And while that chaos unfolds,” James continued, “we’ll slip into the kitchens, grab what we need, and come back here just in time for the aftermath. Perfect plan.”
Remus gave a slow, considering nod. “That… might actually work.”
James leaned back, basking in the approval. “That’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
The plan sparked an excitement that seemed to sweep over them all. The whispers and glances from other tables faded away as the four Gryffindors huddled together, a sense of unity filling the space between them.
As breakfast wound down, Sirius shot one last look over his shoulder at Regulus, who was deep in conversation with Barty Crouch and Evan Rosier, oblivious to his brother’s gaze. Sirius’s expression softened, the same flicker of conflicted emotions passing over his face.
“Oi, Pads,” James murmured, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “Whatever’s going on up here—” he tapped Sirius’s temple lightly, “just remember you’ve got us. All right?”
Sirius gave a short nod, his usual smirk in place, but his voice was low and sincere. “Thanks, Prongs.”
With that, the four friends rose, exchanging sly glances as they slipped out of the Great Hall, heads already full of schemes for the afternoon to come. The magic in the castle seemed to hum with their anticipation, ready to bend to their plans as it always did when mischief called.
Regulus watched the Gryffindor table empty out from the corner of his eye, catching Sirius’s fleeting glances. His gaze followed them until they disappeared, leaving the Great Hall echoing with laughter and the fading hum of breakfast chatter.