Chapter 8
The walk back to the dorm from the hospital wing was a quiet one, and Regulus’s footfalls were the only sounds in the empty halls.
His mind kept replaying James’s smile when he’d said that Regulus’s eyes were pretty. Merlin. It shouldn’t be allowed, that smile. It was too beautiful.
Regulus scolded himself mentally for trusting James so quickly. Usually, he was better at this, more guarded. But with James, his walls just seemed to crumble. He resolved to distance himself, pull back. Not leave, no, he couldn’t do that. James was too lovely to be around to stop seeing him all together. He would just have to be more careful, not let himself trust James. Not grow too close to him. Maybe then it would be easier when he eventually had to leave.
Regulus even hated the thought of not seeing James each night. It had become a habit to sneak out of bed, book in hand, and talk for hours about nothing with him. God, he was pathetic. He couldn’t love James Potter. He couldn't, he couldn't, and yet he did.
His parents would be so disappointed in him. Regulus, the perfect son, the heir, the Slytherin. The traitor, the failure, the queer.
They couldn’t know. It was a secret he’d kept locked in his head for years, loving a boy. Slytherins weren’t well-known to be accepting, and the Black family went above and beyond in that measure. So, he’d have to be better, have to hide it, have to distance himself from James. Regulus couldn’t let James know him, couldn’t allow him to figure out what he was. That would only make him leave, and Regulus couldn’t give him up just yet.
Fuck. He’d been careless. He’d just have to be better, that was all. He just had to be better, and then maybe everything would be all right.
…
James awoke to the sound of laughter beside him. He blinked slowly, trying to remember where he was, and why he was there. Then it all came back, the curse, Snape, the empty hallway, Regulus beside his bed. Regulus.
“James! Mate, we’d thought you’d sleep forever. How are you?” Asked Sirius, his voice concerned.
James yawned, suddenly noticing an ache in his chest. “I’m all right. What time is it anyway?”
“It’s eleven, we skipped herbology to come visit you.” Said Peter, handing James a piece of chocolate.
He grinned sleepily, “Thanks mate, I’m dead hungry.”
Remus smiled, “Well, you’re lucky. Sirius insisted we stop at the kitchens before this, so we’ve got loads of stuff.”
James couldn’t help but remember his night with Regulus there. It was one of his favorite memories of Regulus. His pale skin almost glowing in the light of the fire, so gentle looking wrapped up in that quilt. It had been a nice night, and James smiled as he remembered it.
Sirius handed him a chocolate croissant, and a bowl of fresh berries, which James accepted gratefully.
“Thank you guys, this is wonderful.”
Peter glanced at the others nervously before looking back at James, “So. Uh, what exactly happened? Pomfrey told us a student found you in the hall passed out from a curse, but not much more than that.”
James looked at his friends expectant faces, “Well, I ran into Snape last night just before curfew. He was…worse than usual.” He sighed, remembering the anger on Snape’s face, “I don’t know, he just started saying all this awful stuff, so I jinxed him. He called Lily a – well, you know, and I kind of lost it. He did this silent curse, and I don’t know what it was, but suddenly there was a lot of blood, and I had these cuts on my chest. I don’t know what it was, but it was dark magic. He said that none of this mattered,” James paused, trying to think exactly what Snape’s wording had been. “He told me to die, that it didn’t matter because this would all be over soon.”
Peter looked stunned, as did Remus, but Sirius had an odd expression on his face. “My parents, they’ve… they’ve mentioned things like that. Like, that none of this will matter, that there are forces to play larger than us.” His eyes had vacant look to them, “They seem to be on Snape’s side, against muggles and muggle-borns. I’m not, of course,” He said hurriedly, “But I think Regulus might be, and the rest of my family definitely is.”
James wanted to cut in, to say that Regulus would never think like that. But then he realized he didn’t actually know, didn’t know what Regulus believed.
“I didn’t know it had gotten this bad, I thought whatever they were talking about would blow over. But last summer,” Sirius's expression was pained, “Last summer they asked me to join the Dark Lord. I told Dumbledore and your parents, James, but I didn’t want to worry you guys.”
He looked out the window, and the rest of the marauders were silent, waiting to hear what he had to say.
“I said no, and they, well, – you know, cruciatus and all that. I almost gave in, but I remembered Lily and Mary, and how stupid that is. I would never believe all that stuff, it was just hard to remember while they were cursing me.” Sirius’s eyes were downcast. James felt his heart breaking for his friend, his amazing lovely friend who deserved none of the pain his family gave him.
“We know, Sirius. You’re nothing like your family, always remember that, always. You’re not a Black anymore, anyway, you’re a marauder, through and through.” James said gently, eyes focused on Sirius.
Sirius gave him a small smile, blinking away a few stray tears. Remus paused, his expression far away, but then he pulled Sirius into a hug. He whispered something into his ear before pulling away, something that James would never know.
Peter looked thoughtful, “I didn’t realize it was this bad.” He shook his head, “It’s a bit too much to think of on a perfectly wonderful Friday morning, though. Let’s leave this to the adults for a little while longer.”
At any other time, Sirius might have argued, but he just said, “Cheers Pete.” Before changing the topic to the upcoming Quidditch match.
It was a nice morning spent with the marauders, but James’s mind kept drifting to what Sirius had said about his family. Did Regulus really believe all that? Regulus, who talked so elegantly about literature, who told him stories of the sky, who hated attention but loved to talk if urged to do so. The person Sirius painted as Regulus was nearly an opposite of who James knew. But which one was real? Were they both true? And every time his mind wandered it would come back to one question: Why? Why did Regulus stay with that family who had tortured Sirius? Who had probably tortured Regulus, too, from what James knew from Sirius.
It just didn’t make sense. Who would even believe all that nonsense about blood purity? Snape clearly did, despite being friends with Lily. Lily was so clever and so clearly wonderful at magic, that the idea of her being below pure bloods was just ridiculous. And Mary, brave and loud, and so talented. It didn’t make any sense. James couldn’t see Regulus believing any of it, but maybe he didn’t know him like he thought he did. Maybe he’d been wrong. James hoped he wasn’t, hoped that Regulus would finally see how awful the Black family was, and come back to Sirius.