Chapter 2
It was already absolutely preposterous that the eight year students got their own room at Hogwarts. But that James Potter's room was at the top floor of the castle, the highest fucking floor. That was a crime.
Regulus had to wait for a solid minute to catch his breath once he'd climbed all seven floors of this cursed bloody castle.
He had stamina. He played quidditch for fucks sake. But he didn't have the lung capacity of a goddamn race horse.
He'd also much rather eat a living toad than admit this to Potter and so he panted at the top of the stairs rather pathetically, glancing down to ensure no one saw him. Then he strode up to the oak door and knocked.
"Why are you knocking you wanker, there's- oh Regulus! Sorry I thought you were someone else, come in, come in, you want something? Tea, coffee? I bet you're a coffee guy," and just as quickly as the door had been ripped open, it was left empty and Regulus blinked.
That was a lot of noise and a lot of energy and, just a lot. Carefully, like a deer in danger, he stepped into the room.
It wasn't too big, he noted with a note of satisfaction. Wooden floors, a bed with its headboard to the furthest wall, a desk. And yet ... all of it was bright red. Awful, blinding Gryffindor red; the bedsheets, part of the tapestry, the windowsill.
"Yeah, they went a little overboard with the colour since I'm captain and all ..." Regulus forced himself not to flinch at Potter's sudden reappearance. There was apparently another room next to this one.
"So, coffee?" He asked and held up a pot and two mugs. Gathering himself Regulus shook his head, strode forward and then came to a sudden halt again. He wasn't even really sure what he was doing here. Turning to Potter halfway he opened his mouth and closed it again. Why by Merlin wasn't James speaking? He couldn't seem to shut it any other time of the day.
"So you uh, need any help with the assignment?"
There was something very wrong with Regulus's brain at the moment. It didn't seem to be capable of comprehending the situation.
"What?"
"The assignment," Potter said again, slower this time. Then he set the mugs and coffee on his bedside table and gestured to the stack of papers in Regulus's hand. "I can look for mine if you want. We did it last year, I partnered with this guy; Sven Tunip or something, he was awful but I bet I still have it here ..."
With that James began rummaging through his desk like a wild animal looking for food. It was all it took for Regulus to snap out of his slightly shocked state.
"That won't be necessary."
"No?" James' head shot up, his hair sticking out even more than usual.
"I'm perfectly capable of writing an assignment."
James' forehead folded into a frown, "yeah sure, but we're supposed to-"
"To what? Work together? Grow up Potter. I'm going to work here once or twice and we'll hope it's enough for McGonagall to believe you had anything to do with this paper".
The guy had the audacity to look confused by that. He regarded Regulus with a calculating gaze. "Alright."
For the second time that day Regulus opened his mouth only to close it immediately. "Alright?"
James shrugged. "Yeah alright. You can have the desk I'll sit on the floor."
"What? No, I- I should sit-"
"It's fine Reggie, I usually study on the floor."
Regulus was about to protest again but James had already pulled some kind of mat from under his bed, spread it on the floor and now dashed around the room pulling his things from God knows where. A sheet of parchment from the top of a picture frame, a quill from the backpocket of his trousers. "Sweet Merlin Potter, is the concept of order really this difficult for you?"
James glanced up and grinned. "Yes," he said. Followed by a triumphant sound as he pulled a hardcover book from beside his nightstand. Then he sunk down onto the floor and Regulus didn't really have any other options but to carefully sit on the wooden chair at the desk.
To his relief the top of the table wasn't half as full of clutter as he'd feared. "Don't use this desk very often, do you Potter?"
It was an insult. A good one at that. But James kind of blinked up at him; "uh no? I just told you, I mostly study on the floor."
Regulus didn't respond and instead pulled out his quill and started writing, his cheeks slightly warm. The great thing about Sirius was that he always always snapped back. He had to. He gave you a fight. It was in his nature.
Somehow Regulus had assumed James would be the same; wicked to the point of cruelty if necessary. But this, this was certainly a surprise.
The next surprise was how quietly the guy worked. Sure he moved around a bit, but he hadn't said anything since they'd started working and seemed to be quietly focused.
And therefore ... Therefore Regulus actually got some work done. Which he really hadn't expected. Which also annoyed him to no end because of course you got work done in your own goddamn room. He had to either study beside Barty and Evan bickering like hens or in the common room.
He glanced down at Potter sporadically, but he was bent over his work, not paying attention to Regulus. Slowly he relaxed a little; pulled his feet up onto the chair and allowed himself to become engrossed in his homework. He hadn't had any time for lunch that day but didn't pay any attention to his grumbling stomach.
Unfortunately Saint Potter did.
Regulus didn't look up when James got up and walked away, but his head snapped towards the plate of sweets being put beside him on the desk.
"They're good," James said, "my dad makes them for my mum. They remind her of home you know. They have cardamom in them, go on try one, you-"
Regulus forced himself to smoothe out the grimace his face had scrunched up into, "I will not be trying your cookies, Potter."
"What? Why? You're hungry."
"That doesn't mean I'll just eat whatever the fuck you give me!" Regulus hissed.
Something passed over James's face. Something like surprise and then his usually soft face froze over. "Fine."
Now Regulus was a lot of things of which Potter probably wouldn't approve of; a supremacist, a pureblood occultist, possibly a sadist and most definitely a masochist.
But what Regulus was not, where he
absolutely drew the line, was a racist. And if he wasn't entirely mistaken that was exactly what Potter currently took him for.
He shot out of his chair as James was about to take the plate away, grabbed one and shoved it into his mouth. Hadn't he been busy trying not to choke he would've laughed at the slightly startled expression of a wide eyed Potter.
"So no problem eating Indian foods then eh?" he asked, his eyebrows still almost meeting his hairline.
How didn't James know this? Hadn't Sirius said as much? He ignored the sharp pain in his chest as he realised that maybe Sirius's indifference wasn't as much of an act as his own. Maybe his brother simply didn't talk of him. Didn't think of him. Maybe he didn't lie awake at night and think of his estranged brother.
Because Regulus had no idea what to say he just sat back down. After a moment the plate was put down beside him and then the towering figure disappeared from his side.
He forced himself to not feel bad for eating almost the entire plate. James wouldn't have offered if he wasn't allowed to eat them. James wasn't his mother.
It was easier to work with his stomach not grumbling and after a while he became aware of Potter gathering his things, stretching his limbs. "Are you done?" he asked as if he cared.
Regulus shook his head. He was supposed to always answer in words, but he wanted to see how much James would tolerate. Maybe he would go and tell Sirius. Regulus wasn't sure if he desperately wanted that or desperately didn't.
"You can come back to work here if you like. Wanna go to dinner?"
"With you? In your dreams Potter."
At that James laughed. "Oh come on, why not?"
"Because," Regulus said, indignantly putting down his quill, "because I, unlike some others, have a reputation to uphold."
"And that would be what, compromised if you walk to dinner with me?"
"Tainted by association more or less. And who knows what you'd tell people."
"Scared of people finding put you wriggle your toes a lot while you work?"
Now Regulus was the master of his body. He controlled multiple illusion charms at once, at all times of the day, had a bathroom schedule and was once hit by a bludger right in the stomach and barely even winced. But there was nothing, absolutely nothing he could do about the blush that crept over his cheeks.
"I'm not walking to the great hall with you," he said, staring intently at his parchment and pronouncing each word.
"Fine, suit yourself. Just pull the door closed when you leave."
"I-," but James was already out the door and all Regulus could do for a moment was stare. He was alone. In the Gryffindor Captain's room.
As quietly as he could he opened the door, careful not to close it completely, he slipped out. There was actually no one there. That idiot actually left.
A little grin slipped onto his face and he snuck towards the bannisters, looking down down down into the array of moving staircases and students. If he were James and had gotten a room on the top floor, he would probably do this every day. Just sit here and watch people passing by as nobody noticed him.
Just then he spotted the unmistakable steadfast gate of James Potter, who descended the stairs, drifting in and out of vision. Definitely leaving, and definitely very unconcerned about the Slytherin in his room. His mistake.
Regulus was just about to turn away when a loud yell startled half the castle. A yell that was painfully familiar.
In a flurry of long black hair and pale limbs Sirius came out of nowhere, tackling Potter who let out an indignant yelp. He was in Sirius's headlock in seconds, pushing and shoving to get out.
For a moment Regulus heart felt like it was bleeding. Sirius had done that to him once. Just once though. Trapped his head and rubbed his knuckles over Regulus' short hair and it was fun and laughter for a minute. But then Regulus had panicked and screamed and Sirius had apologised and never done it again.
Maybe he should have just bared it. Maybe Sirius would have stayed with a brother he could put in a headlock.
A couple of floors down two more figures had joined Sirius and James, and they all spoke loudly and over each other, but even if he'd wanted to, Regulus couldn't hear them.
He finally turned, and closed James's room door behind himself with determination. Time to get his brother back.