Sincerely, Reggie

Dear Sirius,

The next full moon is creeping closer every day. I think it would help our success if you had more information before we meet at the Three Broomsticks.

Meet me at the Black Dog pub tonight if you can manage to get away.

R.A.B

Regulus sent the letter off without a second thought as he got ready for his shift.

—

Several hours later, he saw the familiar dark hair and leather jacket weave through the bar's patrons. Looking around like he was expecting Regulus to just be seated at a dark table in the corner.

He couldn't help but chuckle and keep watching. Sirius looked at the face of every person present before sighing and making his way to the bar, taking an empty stool.

“Can I help you?” he asked his unaware brother.

Sirius looked up at him, pausing for a moment before asking, “I'll take a whiskey, and have you seen a man here who looks kind of like me but not as handsome? With shorter hair too?"

“Jackass.” He couldn't help but chuckle. Reaching for the whiskey, he turned to pull a glass from under the bar, allowing his stag antler and star necklace to fall out of his shirt.

Sirius looked from the necklace to his face. “I guess I will never get used to that, huh?”

“No reason to expect it.” He put the whiskey in front of his brother. “I really just wanted you to get to see what I look like before I show up as your supposed friend at the Broomsticks.”

“Solid point,” he said, taking a sip of the whiskey.

Regulus smiled, “Drinks are on the house for now. Just don't drink too much; we have a few things to discuss when I get off my shift.”

By the end of the evening, Regulus was more than ready to get off his feet. He closed up the bar and locked the front door before directing Sirius toward the lounge chairs by the fireplace at the back of the pub.

Walking over, he placed a fresh whiskey on the table in front of Sirius before walking over to his favourite armchair. Taking a sip of his own drink and snuggling into the chair with a happy hum.

It was quiet for a long time before he opened his eyes again and met Sirius's silver gaze. He had an odd expression. Like he was surprised, pained, and happy all at once. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You seem happy," Sirius stated, just loud enough to be heard above the crackle of the fire. 

Regulus pulled himself up and placed his glass down on the table between them. “I mean, I am, I suppose.”

“I've never seen you look so– content before.”

He shrugged, leaning back in the chair. “You wouldn't have. I was never content at home, or at least not since we were quite young. I wasn't very content at Hogwarts, especially when you were around.” He spoke, turning away from the sadness on his brother's face. “Not that it was all your fault, and I did have some time at school when I was quite content.” 

"James," Sirius asked.

“Yes, Sirius. Anyway, since we've reconnected, we've been meeting to do dangerous missions. Doesn't leave much time for relaxing.”

Sirius adjusted his posture in the chair. “It's more than that, though. It's this place; you seem happy here.”

He looked around to take in the bar that he had been working at since Sirius had come back into his life. “Yes, well. I like the job, and this place is comfortable. I suppose I do like it here. When you were at the shack, we were dealing with horcruxes. At my flat, I was worried about letting you see my space. Here—here is a comfortable midground.”

His brother smiled at him, “I’m glad you found a place you like. Even if it's kinda hilarious considering the name.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Black Dog Pub.”

He couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Yes, Sirius, I know the name of the bar where I work. Why is that funny?”

Sirius looked at him like he had three heads. “Shit. Really? You don't know?”

“I know that you're getting on my nerves.”

He watched as his brother placed his glass down next to his own and unfolded himself from the armchair. Giving him a smirk before—fucking disappearing? Oh. No—he didn’t disappear. His brother was now a dog seated on the carpet in front of him. Tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. Grey eyes dancing with firelight surrounded by shaggy black fur.

Well, that explains why he found the bar's name funny: The Black Dog, indeed.

“Sirius?” he asked, sitting still in his chair. “You're a fucking dog.”

Sirius changed back and gave his best winning smile like he had just solved world hunger. "Cool, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t form words. There were no words for the absolute idiocy that was his older brother.

“Reg?”

“You’re an Animagus."

“I am.” He laughed and flopped back into the chair.

“Since when?”

“Fifth year. I can't believe James never told you.”

Regulus leaned back in his seat and ran his hands down his face. “Is James an Animagus too?”

“Yep. He and Pete, too.”

He dropped his hands, glaring at Sirius. “As fifth years? Sixteen years old and you decided to become animagi? You realize you could have gotten yourselves killed?”

Sirius shrugged, “It was for a good cause.”

“And that would be?”

“Er, well.” His brother shifted in his seat, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “For Moony. He was hurting himself on full moons when he was alone. But werewolves are not dangerous to animals, just people—so…"

He could only stare for a long time. Honestly, he wished he could be more surprised that his brother would do something like this. He's not.

“Reggie?”

Shaking his head, he closed his eyes. “It's baffling just how stupid you all are. We are the product of inbreeding, and I still have more common sense than you and your three best friends combined.”

“Oi! Remus didn't know what we were doing until we were done.”

That made more sense. He nodded as he responded, “That makes me feel much better. I was concerned that I had ever chosen to be friends with him.”

Sirius scoffed, “You dated James, and I assure you he was completely involved in the whole Animagus thing.” He said, grinning like he had just won the argument.

“Yes, but Remus was a mental choice to be friends. James was all my heart's fault.”

“Ew.”

He shuddered, “Actually, I agree with you on that. That was far too mushy; I feel gross.”

They sat quietly for a while after that, sipping their drinks and staring into the fire. At some point, his Polyjuice Potion wore off, and he relaxed further into his own body. 

He was quite content to stay in his own thoughts, but Sirius eventually began getting fidgety and broke the silence. “So, Hogwarts?”

Regulus shook himself out of his thoughts. “Ah, yes. I have a theory of where the Diadem could be. We can look there first, and if that doesn't pan out, then we will need to talk to the Grey Lady to see if she can tell us anything.”

“And where is it you think it could be?” 

“You'll see.” Regulus sighed and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Are we just meeting at the Three Broomsticks and walking up to the castle?”

“That's the plan.”

He pushed himself up and collected their empty glasses. “Grand. Well, I suppose I'll see you on the 21st.”

Sirius scrambled out of his chair to follow him. "Wait—I thought you wanted to meet to talk about the plan?”

“We just did.”

“That was hardly anything.”

“Sirius, you came here and got to see what I will look like when I arrive on the 21st. We agreed on where we are meeting and how we are getting to the castle. There's nothing else to discuss.”

Sirius looked… disappointed? “Oh. Alright.”

He turned and placed the glasses in the sink, reaching for the cloth to wash them. “Was there something else you wanted to talk about?”

“No, just… I wanted to spend time with you.”

Regulus couldn't help the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Siri, you've been at the bar for an hour and a half before I closed up. Then we sat for an hour and talked before we discussed anything pertaining to going to Hogwarts.”

“Right.”

“Sirius, I wanted to spend time with you too. That's why I invited you here. It's just getting late, and we should go home and get some rest.”

“Right.” Sirius smiled at him as he followed him behind the counter and grabbed a towel to dry their glasses after Regulus had washed them.

—

The Three Broomsticks was unsurprisingly deserted. Being just a few days before Christmas, most everyone was home with their families. Regulus, on the other hand, was just arriving to meet his. 

Walking in the doors, his eyes quickly found the familiar dark curls of his brother seated at a table close to the huge fireplace. He was sipping what looked like butterbeer and talking animatedly to Rosmerta.

He approached slowly, waiting for Sirius to recognize him and send Rosemerta away before he slid into the chair opposite his brother. “Ready?”

“Can I finish my butterbeer first?” 

Regulus sighed and stood again, “Sure, you finish your drink and catch up with me.” Turning, he walked right back out of the bar, completely ignoring his brother's calls of ‘Hey! Wait!’ and ‘Git!’

He made it nearly all the way down the main street before he could hear his brother running up behind him. “Reg, what the fuck was that about?"

"We're in a bit of a time crunch here, Sirius. I don’t have time for you to waste.”

Sirius grabbed his shoulder and turned him abruptly. “What's going on? You are generally tense, but this seems different. What's wrong?”

He shook his brother off, near fuming in an instant. “Don't act like you know anything about me.” He hissed.

Sirius grabbed him again and pulled him back, placing a hand on both of his shoulders and looking right into his eyes. “You might not look like my brother right now, and I may have missed a few years. Which I am going to hate myself for the rest of my life for missing, but you are my brother and like it or not I do still know you. I might be a bit rusty, but something is wrong and I want you to let me help you.”

He closed his eyes, breathing deeply and letting the words sink in. 

Oh, how he wished he had heard those words from his brother so many times over the years—he has them now, though. Opening his eyes again, he looked at his brother. “I’m just frustrated. I heard more talk of a spy in the order and how they had given some information to Voldemort about an important upcoming mission.”

Regulus could see the color drain from Sirius’s face. “What mission?”

He turned away again, pushing his hand through his hair. Hating that it wasn't his own dark locks. Rather, it was straight and brown; his eyes were green, and he felt like his skin was crawling. He was panicking, and the feeling was only being made worse because everything was disorienting outside of his own body. “I don't know. I can’t do anything about it because I don't know what they were told. For once, they were careful not to slip any details.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah— so let's go and get this over with so I can get back out there and try to figure this out.”

Sirius nodded and started walking toward the castle, letting him catch up with him. Thankfully, he let the subject drop for now, allowing them to walk to the castle in silence.

It was cold. Sirius cast a few warming charms over them as they walked. He could hardly feel them, though. He felt like he had been leached of all warmth. Ice cold to the bone with fear and the knowledge that someone was likely going to die because he didn’t have the answers. He knew too many people in the Order to just let it go. 

No, he needed to do this mission and get the diadem quickly so he could figure out the Death Eaters next move and stop it.

“-gulus!”

“What.”

“I’ve been talking to you for the last two minutes.”

“Sorry.”

“It's okay, but we are almost to the doors and you need to have your head on straight. You're leading the way from here.”

“Alright.”

They pushed the doors open, and he was nearly knocked back by the force of the memories flooding him. 

Walking past stairways where he, Barty, and Evan sat and talked between classes. 

“What did you get for number seven?” Evan asked. 

Regulus scoffed, “I'm not telling you shit."

“Barty!” Evan whined, leaning back onto Barty's legs as he sat on the next stair up. “Will you tell me what you got on number seven?”

“Don't tell him! He should figure it out on his own.”

Barty looked between them both. Evan was looking up at him, big blue eyes shining and lashes fluttering, "Sorry, Reg, you know I can't say no to him.” He smiled down at Evan, “Number seven is mustard seed."

“At least someone loves me," Evan said, poking his tongue out at him. 

He rolled his eyes. “You got it wrong, didn't you?”

“Yeah.”

Their steps echoed in the corridors where he strolled arm in arm with Pandora.

“Have you heard of a wrackspurt before?” Pandora asked, walking up behind him and claiming the arm he wasn't using to carry his books.

He smiled to himself, “Can't say I have.”

“Really? I've seen them around you before.” She poked him in the ear. “Just about here.”

He flinched away from her cold fingers. “Pans, maybe warn a person before you stick your fingers in their ears. Some might find that rude.”

She let loose a laugh that sounded like bells. "Well, I wouldn't have done it if it weren't you. Or Barty or Evan. Maybe Dorcas.”

“I suppose I should be honored, then?” he asked.

She hummed with thought, “Actually, I think I should be the one honored. You let me do it without much fuss. Just more proof that you really do love me.”

He turned to look down at her. "Of course I do, Panda.”

He slowed his pace, walking past classrooms where he had sat studying with Dorcas. 

“I quit! I give up! There's nothing I can do; I am going to fail.” He whinged.

Dorcas looked up at him from across the table, “You say that every week. Really, you should work on your dramatics; they're getting a bit repetitive.”

“Caz, if I don't get straight O’s my parents will kill me.” He dropped his head onto his pile of books.

She sighed, “I wish that were more of a joke.”

“Me too," I mumbled into the books.

“You know you don't have to stay there. All you have to do is ask and we'll find some way out.”

He looked up at her, resting his chin on the books. “I wish it were that easy, but I can't.”

Dorcas was quiet for a long moment, just looking across the table at him. Her eyes softened when she finally spoke, “You know I love you, right? No matter what happens, I'll always be here for you.”

It felt like all his feelings rushed up to stop his response. He wouldn't let them; swallowing thickly, he whispered, “I know, and I love you too, Caz.”

He could feel his eyes stinging at the memories. Salazar’s sideburns; he missed his friends. He saw Evan and Barty fairly often at Death Eater meetings, but he was so scared half the time he felt like he was living through the veil before he had even "died."

Dorcas had joined Dumbledore's Order after Hogwarts, with her girlfriend McKinnon. He hadn't seen her since graduation. He hadn't really seen Pandora either. She was too upset by seeing her friends and brother following Voldemort's orders. So she stayed away, found love, and ran away with him. He hoped she was happy, safe, and content.

Now, like so often before, he wished he had his friends with him. But to them, he was a stone in the ground, engraved with Regulus Arcturus Black. He was gone, and they had moved on.

He wanted to stop and scream. It wasn't fair. Why did he have to be the one to do this? Why couldn't he have been granted a life where he wasn't always destined to be alone? He didn't want to be lonely anymore.

It had gotten a little better now that he had Sirius back. But that was only temporary; when they finished off the Horcruxes, his brother would have friends to go back to. He didn't think he could stand to exist on the sidelines and watch everyone else get what they always wanted. 

Glancing over, he took in his brother, who seemed to be lost in his own thoughts as they made their way through the castle. 

He shook the thoughts from his head as they kept moving, striding toward an archway leading to a courtyard. The breeze carried a burst of crisp air and a soft whistling sound down the corridor.

His breath caught, heart stumbling.

A soft whistle sounded close to his ear. A familiar little tune. 

“Reg. Pssst. Reggie.”

“Fuck off.” He mumbled into his pillow.

The low whistle sounded again, closer this time. He could feel the breath flutter over his skin as the sound was pushed out.

“I don't want to get up. Comfy.”

“I know love. But it's getting late, and our friends will wonder where we are.”

He turned and pulled himself into the warm chest next to him. Snuggling his face into the crook of his neck and breathing in. “James.” He whined. “Just a little longer.”

James chuckled, the sound moving the curls on the top of his head. “Five more minutes, love.”

He got ten.

Another step, two, three, and the whistle came again. Louder. He froze.

Then he was there. Warm and bright and there. In front of them, whistling and looking up at the ceiling until he was completely through the archway and turning in their direction. 

James.

As if he could hear him screaming the name in his head, James turned his attention from the ceiling and beamed when he caught sight of Sirius. Sirius who had gone still, looking between him and James like he would instantly know who Regulus really was.

Truthfully, he wished that that was the case. It’s not.

James smiled brightly at Sirius, walking over and wrapping his brother in a crushing hug. Finally releasing him and turning to face Regulus. “Ah, Pads, who's this?” he asked, holding his hand out to introduce himself before Sirius had a chance to say anything. “James Potter.”

No. He doesn't recognize him. They're nothing but strangers.

Sirius thankfully snapped out of it, “Oh! Ah– Jamie, this is, uh– Bob.”

Regulus turned his head slowly to glare at his brother because, honestly. Bob. That's the best he could do?

Turning his gaze back to James, he reached out to take his hand. "Yes, Bob Carpenter. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Potter.”

“Please, call me James.” James smiles, “What are you two doing here?”

Sirius looked utterly lost for a moment. It was never his first instinct to lie to James. Thankfully, Regulus did not have that problem. "We're here to assist Dumbledore with finding something.”

“Oh! Can I help? I was here to talk to him, but we just finished, and I was wandering around getting all nostalgic.”

He wanted so badly to ask what he was nostalgic about, but he didn't dare. Sirius beat him to a response anyway, the idiot.

“Of course, Prongs! We'd love the help.”

Regulus had never wanted to throw his brother from the astronomy tower more than he did at that moment. No, James could not come with them.

“As long as you’re sure you don’t mind?” James asked, turning to smile at him.

James could absolutely not come with them. It could derail the whole plan. They would likely have to explain things to him, and that could get messy. No, James needed to leave.

He was silent for a long moment, trying to find a way to tell him no. Watching as James's face went from hopeful joy to hurt rejection. 

Fuck, he had been glaring. He cleared his throat and did his best to put on an unaffected face. Best to tell him to leave without any emotion to it. 

“Of course you can come.”

Shit—he was a weak, weak man. Absolutely no backbone when it came to James Potter.

He watched as James's face flipped back to the big goofy smile again. “Grand! Where are we headed, lads?”

Sirius turned panicked eyes to Regulus. “Great question. Bob, where are we headed?”

He couldn't help sighing, “Seventh floor corridor.” He said, glancing sidelong at James. A brief flicker of something passed over his features before it was once again replaced by a smile.

Clearly desperate to change the subject, Sirius spoke up again, his voice too reedy to come across as normal. Though James didn’t seem to notice. “So, Jamsie, what brought you here today? What did you have to talk to Dumbledore about?”

“Oh, I had to talk to him about–” He paused, looking from Sirius to Regulus. Clearly, this was one of those silent conversations they were known for. Neither said anything, but Sirius must have informed him that it was okay to speak in front of him about Order details. “About returning to doing Order missions. You know, Lily and I have a good routine down now for Harry, so it's manageable, and I want to help again.”

Sirius hummed his understanding. 

Regulus did not. “Who is Harry?”

He could hear his brother mutter shit under his breath as James, oblivious of the turmoil he was about to cause, went to answer. “My son. He's only a few months old, so it's been a bit of a trial and error getting a routine down.”

Regulus could feel his heart stop. Could feel every shattered piece slice and cut on its way to the floor. Perhaps if he’s lucky he’ll bleed out and won't have to finish this conversation.

James—a father. He has a son. With Lily. A family. 

It's not that he had been holding out hope that he and James would end up together. He was well aware that James and Lily had gotten together after they had left school. Regulus had checked on James, just as he had for his brother and Remus. Like he did for Barty and Evan after he had let the world believe he had died. 

Still, seeing them together and knowing they had started a family together was vastly different things. His mind was reeling, realigning to the world where James had well and truly moved on. 

He was glad. James deserves every joy and happiness the world has to offer. That doesn't make this hurt any less. Regulus is well aware that James was it for him. He would never love again like he loved James Potter.

“Bob? Are you all right?" James was reaching out to touch his shoulder.

He instinctively flinched back, pulling himself out of reach. “Fine, yeah. Sorry, you—you don’t look old enough to have a son.”

“Well, he wasn't exactly planned," James chucked. Pulling his hand back and putting them in his pockets.

Regulus hummed in agreement, continuing to walk to the seventh floor. He didn't speak again, blocking out Sirius and James chatting as he worked to drown the last glimmer of hope he had for a happy future. 

Lily and I. My son.

James's words cut like knives.

No. He would have to let go of that hope. Push it down and get through today. When all this was over, he would find a way to disappear again. Leave his brother and his friends behind to enjoy their lives when the war was over. Never let James know he had survived. He didn't deserve the guilt he would surely feel if he knew Regulus wasn't dead. James deserved better.

He heard Sirius clear their throat. "Uh, Bob? What now?”

They had stopped when he had, in the middle of the seventh-floor corridor. Glancing between them, he could see the confusion on Sirius's face. Clearly, James had never told him about their spot. James, on the other hand, looked like he was about to be sick.

Nothing to do but call the door. He started pacing, thinking of a place to hide something and very pointedly not thinking about the room he and James used to sneak away to.

He reached out and pushed the door open, looking back over his shoulder at an amazed Sirius and a relieved James. “Room of hidden things. Try not to touch too much.” He gave Sirius a pointed look. “Do you both know what the diadem looks like?”

They both nodded and made their way into the room and began looking through the assortment of random objects littering the space.

Regulus tried to keep a good distance from the other two. Looking through objects while keeping an eye on where James and Sirius were. It would be all too easy to get lost in here.

He made his way around a stack of mismatched chairs and started sifting through some chests lying at his feet. 

From here he can look up and see James leaning over a table of knickknacks and jewelry. He could see the muscles in his back flex as he moved from foot to foot. It was beyond distracting, and don't even get him started on James's forearms. He may not be Quidditch captain anymore, but he clearly still exercises.

“Are you okay?” Sirius whispered, making him nearly jump out of his skin.

Regulus ignored him.

“Reg, I just wa–”

He whipped around and clapped his hand over his brother's mouth. “Bob. Sirius, my name is Bob.”

Sirius swatted his hand away. “Calm down, James is—"

“James is what?” James's voice came from behind them, startling both of them.

All three stared at one another for a moment before Sirius smiled, “James is going to help me look over there, at that pile of junk. Come on, Prongs.”

James didn't fuss, agreeing readily to be pulled away to look through another pile of things.

Over the next several hours, Sirius tried to check in a few more times. Not that he was getting any answers. Regulus was absolutely not in the mood to be mothered by his older brother. Especially with their mother's track record.

Instead, he kept his head down and searched. Stopping periodically to take another sip of polyjuice when James wasn't near him.

He was doing a good job of avoiding James. It had been hours, and they had only spoken once. James asked how he knew Sirius, and he gave a brief explanation that he really didn't. That he had been asked by Dumbledore, and Sirius was assigned to help. That seemed to be enough for him, allowing Regulus to escape into the stacks of objects again.

It had to have been getting late in the evening when Sirius found him yet again. Concern written on his face. “Bob, you've hardly spoken this whole time. Please just talk to me.”

“Sirius, let me tell you this in the most loving way possible. Leave me the fuck—" He was cut off by a loud creaking noise, followed by a yelp and a thud.

He felt his heart drop, James.

Sirius was the first to move, launching himself over obstacles in the direction of the crash, Regulus following just behind.

His heart was hammering as he launched himself over the last hurdle between him and James. He could see James lying on the floor, a large cabinet on top of him that he was struggling to push it off. 

His brother dropped and slid on his knees over to James, trying to help him shove the cabinet off. Regulus was stumbling toward them when a chuckle stopped him in his tracks.

The sound had come from his right, the wrong direction for it to have been either James or Sirius. He spun toward the noise.

“What do we have here? A little mutt and his doe-eyed friend?” The deep voice sent a shiver down his spine.

The man was just as huge as Regulus remembered, looking as dirty as he always did. This time, though, he had blood dripping from his fingers and smeared around his mouth. He looked like he had just eaten something raw.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius stop lifting and turned to see who was speaking. All the color in his face draining as he looked up into the cold yellow eyes of Fenrir Greyback. 

"What, nothing to say, mutt?” He licked his lips. “My pup had a lot to say about you. He screamed your name even as I tore out his throat.” He laughed again.

Sirius stood and launched himself forward. Regulus caught him just in time, pushing Sirius behind him. "Sirius, no!”

Something wasn't right.

Regulus looked directly up into Greyback's eyes. He wasn't sure how the hell Fenrir was here, but he'd be damned if he was going to let Sirius get himself killed. 

He knew this man—wolf, whatever. They had shared meals across long tables filled with the worst of the worst. Those dinners were practically torture, but they did give him some useful insights into Voldemort's key players. 

Greyback might not have been in the inner circle, but he was the Dark Lord's watchdog. He might know who the spy is, and there is no way he would let his brother kill Greyback if there were any chance of getting information from him. 

He held his wand ready in his hand as he straightened his shoulders. Opening his mouth to speak but finding no words as he watched Greyback's face scrunch and shift. His eyes were no longer the same eerie yellow but were shifting into a familiar warm brown: James's eyes.

Regulus blinked again and the form in front of him was James. James like he was at 18, when he had last spoken to him. When he had told him about the mark and left the love of his life behind. When he had to say goodbye.

The James in front of him regarded him with cold disinterest. “You disgust me. You never were who I thought you were.” He took a step closer, sneering down at him, “I could never love someone like you. I never did love you. I hate you.”

Regulus couldn't move. His heart was thundering in his ears. This wasn't the real James, but it felt like it. James was telling him all the things he had always thought he should be told. It had always been too good to be true.

He closed his eyes, hearing James's voice continue to berate him. “You were never worth my time. Never enough, just as useless then as you are now. How could you have ever thought you deserved me? Thought that I loved you? I never did. You should have stayed dead," James spat.

He felt smaller with every word. Stepping back like each syllable was a lash across his skin. 

It would've hurt less if it were.

“Riddikulus!” 

James's voice again. This time it was behind him, though. He opened his eyes again in time to see the James in front of him turn into Dumbledore wearing knee-high stockings. Shrieking, it wandered away into the piles of clutter.

A tug at his sleeve had him turning around. Sirius looked at him with wide eyes for a moment before turning back to the cabinet that was still on top of James. Muttering, “Help me with this?”

James was staring at him, wand in hand. Face etched with confusion. He didn't take his eyes off of him as he walked over and bent to get a grip on the cabinet.

He didn't stop staring as Regulus’s shirt shifted when he bent and his necklace dropped out.

James didn't stop staring as he stood and pointed his wand directly at Regulus's chest.

“Who the fuck are you?”