Chapter 8
Regulus took one last look at the drawing James had made him keep, traced his thumb over the lines of his brother's face and then tucked it underneath the mattress. That would have to be enough.
He had thought about bringing it home, it was his only real remaining connection to Sirius after all, but he couldn't risk it. If his mother found the drawing itself, she might find the emotions it stirred up in Regulus's chest as well. And that would mean a danger Regulus couldn't afford.
He took one last look at the bed, silently prayed that the house elves wouldn't find and burn it in his mother's stead and closed the door. Evan and Barty were already gone.
For Regulus going home was a process. One that included completely shutting off any and all emotional intelligence he might possess and turn cold as ice. One that he would go through some lengths to keep from his friends.
It was always a little difficult to do at first; to paint on the mask of indifference, stroke for careful stroke.
It came off just as difficult and the longer he wore it the more it seeped into his skin, sometimes so deeply he forgot it was a mask altogether.
The worst part was that with it came relief. That if he played his part long enough his indifference became real and it was bliss.
Nothing could hurt him then, not his mother using names he no longer carried, not his father with his inquisition about marriage and children, not even his brother's loud absence. Nothing. Mattered.
He let Dumbledore's Christmas speech wash over him like water and then grabbed his one solitary suitcase and slowly descended the stairs towards the entrance.
With every step he let himself be more enwrapped by dark nothingness. He didn't notice the students around him, their laughter and cries.
Suddenly he stopped in his tracks; his head whipping up and was met with the bizarre image of James fucking Potter nearly falling over the bannisters of the staircases at least three stories above him, calling his name like a lunatic.
"Wait! Reg, wait! I'm coming down!" He shouted and then basically flew down the stairs, his head popping up over the banisters every few seconds as if to make sure Regulus wasn't going anywhere. As if he could, even if he wanted to. This was all very ... sweet? Charming? Well, almost. Strange, yeah, that was more like it.
When James reached the final staircase, the one Regulus was standing on, his face broke out into a large smile. He arrived in a flurry of robes and papers he was clutching to his chest. "You waited!" He beamed.
To his horror Regulus felt his mouth quirking upwards. "I'm pretty sure the entire castle would have cursed me if I didn't. Are you half-banshee, or just, I don't know, full on insane?"
The grin didn't subside in the slightest. "Sorry." He didn't look it. "So what are you doing for the holidays? Your folks got anything special planned?"
"Sure. Some sky-diving and skiing and Mother is a big fan of tanning on the beach."
For a moment James stared and then he broke out into loud obnoxiously loud laughter, "that, that was bloody funny Regulus."
"It really wasn't that funny."
"It was," he wiped his eyes. "So are you excited about Christmas or ...?"
Regulus sighed. "No Potter I'm not 'excited about Christmas', because we don't celebrate it. I'm not doing anything over the holidays except try to stay out of my mother's way and my 'folks' have never planned anything special. But I'm pretty sure you knew that because you are attached to the hip with my brother, so what exactly is this about?"
"I, uh ..." James ran a hand through his tousled hair and all of a sudden Regulus wondered what it would look like if Saint Potter got nervous. "I have something for you."
Regulus's eyebrows rose as James began shuffling through the many papers and notes in his arms until he made triumphant sound holding a little purple book in his hand. Then he just dumped the rest of his stuff on the stairs and held out the book with a pleased expression.
Regulus took it, recognising the title as one of the astronomy books they were encouraged, but not required to read.
"Oh thanks, I was thinking about getting that one." He said, flipping through the pages offhandedly.
"It's, uh, it's not a book."
Regulus lifted his eyes. There was a bright flush on James' cheeks and he bent low to talk to Regulus. "It's- can I just ..." he took the book from Regulus, then reached into his pockets and got his wand.
He tapped it three times, mumbling a spell and then the book started tucking in on itself. Its cover folded, the pages fused. It glittered as if catching light in a way paper never could and a few moments later there was a considerably large shard of glass in James's hand.
Regulus stared at it, then took it into his own, his mind feverishly working through any kind of knowledge he had on magical shards.
Its surface was just black, so non-reflective, the diameters weren't symmetrical so the usage for magic was limited, it- He looked up when James cleared his throat.
"It uh, it used to be Sirius's. I mean, it's still Sirius's, I just, thought you could, you know, borrow it ..."
"Borrow it."
"Yes." James looked ... Weirdly hopeful?
"Uh, yeah sure. I'll borrow the weird book that turns into a murder weapon."
Potter's eyes widened, "oh, oh yeah wait."
He reached into his robe, pulled something out and the shard in Regulus's hand changed colours immediately. When he glanced down at it Potter's face grinned up at him. Or down at him, but from below ... this was fucking weird.
"It's a two-way mirror. Well, a piece of it at least."
"I gathered that," Regulus said, turning the shard in his hands.
"Sirius and I used it during the breaks so we could talk but now ... Well we don't need it anymore." A soft smile spread on James' face.
It was good that Sirius was somewhere he was so loved Regulus thought. Really good. "So what, now you want to talk to me?"
"I ... Yes. If you want. I just ... wanted to be able to check in on you. So I know you're okay."
"I'm always okay," he said sharply. "Always."
James swallowed. Then he let an easy smile slip onto his lips, shrugged casually. "Then use it to check on me. I'm not always okay and I don't know if you've noticed but your brother is a bit of a melodramatic bitch, so I do well getting a break sometimes."
Regulus snorted, turned the mirror in his hand one last time and sighed. "I can't take this home Potter, my mother will know."
James face morphed into a bright grin. "Nope. She won't. It's Walburga-proof."
"It's what," Regulus asked dryly.
"Promise. It's Walburga-Proof. We started testing her in second year. Trying out which spells she can detect and stuff. This one," he reached out and plucked the shard from Regulus then tapped his wand to it. A few moments later the purple book was in his hands again. "This one is our masterpiece. Remus does the transformation spells, I conceal the magic and Pete works it over so it feels like a used book. And we used a book that would be plausible for you to have."
"They helped? You made this with your friends? Do they know ... about this?" It was a ridiculous question. He wasn't even sure what this was.
"Pete knows. Um, Remus knows, a little."
Regulus held his breath and didn't look up when he asked, "does Sirius?"
"No. I .. I wasn't sure what he'd say and I really want you to have this."
Regulus gave a curt nod. Then he grabbed the book and stuffed it into his bag. "Right. Okay. I have it."
"Yeah. Good. I ... Just, if you need anything. Just let me know okay?"
"Sure." He said and then James leant down and kissed Regulus's cheek very softly.
"Take care Reg, merry Christmas," he said into Regulus's ear before taking large steps up the staircase and leaving Regulus with a flaming face and a fluttering heart.
What. The. Fuck.