In Pieces
Regulus packed his many books and his quills into his bag, taking his time. Before shutting it, he glanced around the library, scanning the tables, chairs and shelves. He was looking for James Potter. He could admit that to himself now (not that he’d admit it to anyone else). He just wanted to see if James was around, so that he could get their three questions over with.
James always came to find him, every single day. It didn’t hurt for Regulus to look a little. Just to make sure James hadn’t missed him among the other students in the library. Regulus might not have time for the customary questions later on, so he really was only trying to help James out. That was all it was.
Just as he was giving up hope, he caught a glimpse of brown skin and messy hair, and the glint of golden frames of some familiar glasses. Smirking to himself, he pretended not to have seen, and continued to pack up his things, before slinging his bag over his shoulder and making his way over to the exit.
“There you are, Reggie!” came a warm voice from behind him. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.
“It’s Regulus,” he responded dryly, though he knew it was useless. James came up beside him on his right, standing a little too close.
“Did you miss me?” he teased.
“It hasn’t even been 24 hours,” he replied, rolling his eyes (not that he’d been counting those hours. Not at all).
“ I missed you,” said James sweetly, and Regulus almost tripped over his own feet.
“That’s ridiculous,” he scoffed.
“Well, it’s true,” smiled James, his teeth glinting, “I bet you missed me too, you know.” Regulus didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Let’s get on with it. What do you have for me today?”
“I’ve got some really great questions, actually,” smiled James, “Number one; what was your first impression of me?”
Regulus looked sideways at him, only to be met with that blinding grin.
“I hated you from the moment I set eyes on you.”
“No you didn’t!” refuted James, sounding affronted.
“Yes, I did,” he said decisively. It was a lie of course. He’d tried to hate James, he really had, and he’d hated James before he’d met him, but as soon as he was put face to face with James Potter, he hadn’t been able to hate him. Not one bit.
He remembered distinctly the summer before his first year at Hogwarts; he’d finally had Sirius back after being alone all year at Grimmauld Place, and all he’d talked about was ‘James Potter’ this and ‘James Potter’ that. It had been abundantly clear to Regulus then that James was his replacement. Sirius had never had a best friend before; he’d had Regulus, but then all of a sudden he had James, and he hadn’t shut up about it.
“I remember you sat with us on the train,” recalled James, “And you had your arms crossed. You looked very grumpy like that. I thought you were pretty cute. That’s my first impression of you.”
Regulus felt his face heat up.
“I wasn’t cute,” he bit out.
“You were eleven years old,” chuckled James, “And you had a little round face and you were about five feet tall, of course you were cute.”
Regulus willed the floor to swallow him up. He considered wiping the memory from James’ mind.
“Don’t be embarrassed!” laughed James, “Everyone’s cute at that age, I was pretty adorable too at eleven.” Regulus only groaned.
He remembered the train ride, too. He remembered when James had walked into the compartment, with his hair sticking up and a big smile plastered on his face. He’d told Regulus it was nice to meet him, and he’d looked as though he’d really meant it, too. Regulus had shook his hand dumbly and said nothing, all of his snarky remarks dying in his throat.
After that, he hadn’t ignored Regulus, like the older Black cousins and family usually did. He’d asked Regulus his opinion and listened attentively to what he had to say. And so, as hard as he tried, after that it had been impossible to hate James Potter.
“So,” prompted James, bringing Regulus back to reality, “What was your first impression of me?”
“I thought your hair was very messy,” said Regulus after a second, “And that you smiled too much.”
“There’s no such thing as smiling too much,” argued James, smiling as he said it.
“Whatever you say.”
“Ok, next question; what do you think of me currently? As in, what’s your impression of me now?”
“Your hair is still a mess,” he replied, “And you still smile a lot.”
“Yeah, but I’ve changed, haven’t I?”
“I suppose you’re a lot taller,” teased Regulus, pretending to really consider it, “And you have different glasses…”
“Those are just observations,” complained James, “What do you really think of me? I mean, do you think these glasses are better than the old ones?”
“I suppose they are,” mused Regulus, “They make your eyes look bigger. And I guess you might be a little more mature than you were at twelve.”
“Just a little?”
“Don’t push it, Potter,” he retorted.
“Ok, fine,” he sighed dramatically, “And what else do you think of me?”
“I think you… I think you’re pretty intelligent, even if you probably put most of your brain into pranks. I think you’re smarter than people give you credit for.”
James grinned so wide Regulus thought his face might split in two.
“I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” he breathed.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said sourly.
“Don’t worry, I won’t,” James assured him with a wink, “I’ll expect only cutting remarks for the rest of this conversation.”
“Good.”
“Anything else you think of me?”
“You can be quite annoying,” he replied.
“Ah, there’s the Reg I’m used to.”
“You’re very persistent,” added Regulus, trying not to roll his eyes again. “And I’d say you’re impulsive, too. Maybe not in the way Sirius is… But sometimes I wonder if you’ve really thought things through before you do them.”
“I think about things,” defended James, “I’ll think ‘I’d like to do that’ and then I do it.”
“Right…”
“What? How do you think things through?”
Regulus was about to open his mouth and explain overthinking to James, when he was cut off.
“Wait, don’t answer! I don’t want that to be my third question.”
“What’s your third question then?”
“Who is someone you tell everything to?”
“Seems as though it’s you since you’re asking me all these questions,” he replied easily.
“No, but really,” said James.
“Probably Pandora,” he acquiesced.
“She’s nice,” answered James uncertainly.
“Yes, she is.”
“I guess I usually tell everything to Sirius,” added James, after an awkward moment.
“Not this,” said Regulus.
“No, not this,” agreed James, albeit a little uneasily. Regulus relished in that. Sirius didn’t know. For once, Regulus had a piece of James Potter all to himself. “Does Pandora know about this?” asked James.
“She knows everything,” he replied.
“...Right.”
***
The next day, Regulus waited in the library, his eyes searching the large room for any trace of James, but he couldn’t find him anywhere. He packed up his bag just as slowly, and started to leave at a leisurely pace. Maybe James would meet him in the hallway, or after dinner. Maybe he was busy.
He made his way slowly back to the Slytherin Dormitories, and still there was no sign of James anywhere.
“What’s wrong?” asked Dorcas as he joined his friends in their usual spot by the window.
“Nothing’s wrong,” he denied.
“Oh come on, it’s so obvious,” drawled Barty from Evan’s lap, “Don’t try to lie to us, Reg.”
“You’ve been so happy these past few days…” commented Dorcas, which only made him scowl.
“What?” he asked bluntly.
“You keep smiling,” she said knowingly, giving him a pointed look, “What’s going on?”
“You’re not supposed to know yet,” came Pandora’s eerie voice. Regulus went to sit next to her, leaning into her side.
“Well when are we supposed to know, then?” cut in Barty.
“In a month,” she replied.
“A month?” he parroted, and he seemed as though he was about to put up a fight when Evan slid a hand around his middle, under his shirt, and he stopped short, suddenly out of words.
“Let’s talk about something else,” offered Pandora tactfully, “Pygmy puffs, for example.”
“I wonder who’s been telling you about those…” commented Evan darkly.
“Who?” asked Barty, genuinely confused.
“Xenophilius,” trilled Pandora happily.
“That absolute—
“You’re not still on about him, are you?” admonished Dorcas, cutting Evan off.
“He got me a present!” exclaimed Pandora excitedly, reaching into her bag and fishing around for it. Her hand reappeared holding a black, rectangular contraption with a short, thick cylinder on the front.
“What’s that?” asked Evan warily.
“It’s a cam-era,” she enunciated.
“…And what’s that?” he asked again.
“Merlin, Rosier, you’ve never seen a camera?” asked Barty tiredly, “How did you think they got the pictures in the Daily Prophet? It’s an invention we pinched off the muggles.”
“You know I don’t read the Prophet,” grumbled Evan, retracting his touch from Barty’s midriff.
“It’s like a painting that a machine does for you,” explained Dorcas sympathetically.
Pandora began to take photos of the group, instructing them into different poses as she went around with her new camera.
“How do we get them?” wondered Barty after a while.
“We have to ‘develop’ them,” replied Pandora, “Xeno said he would help me with that.”
This of course prompted another heated argument between the Rosier cousins, which Regulus tuned out as best he could, while Barty tried to escalate things as much as possible.
Dorcas left to go talk to some other friends of hers about NEWTs, and Regulus sat glumly staring out the window into the murky depths of the lake. Still no sign of James.
“Owl for you,” came Barty’s clear voice, piercing through Evan and Pandora’s icy tones. Regulus whipped his head around in surprise, and there was his owl, a piece of parchment curled around her leg. He unravelled the paper, and she flew away to sit on the black crystal chandelier above them. It was a note. A note scrawled over with several lines of messy handwriting. Before he even began reading, he knew it was from James. He couldn’t help the way his heart soared at the revelation. So James hadn’t forgotten about him, then.
Hey Reggie! It read. (It’s Regulus, he wanted to correct)
Miss me? (I bet you do). I’m busy today, so I thought I’d send you a quick letter, kind of like a questionnaire. Here are my questions:
1. If you’re upset, do you prefer to be alone, or with someone?
Regulus thought to himself. When he was upset, he always pushed everyone away, though if you asked Pandora, she would say he was isolating himself when he needed human contact the most.
Hastily, he took some parchment and a quill from his bag, and began to write out a response.
1. I prefer to be with someone.
He couldn’t believe he was confessing that to James Potter. It was easier somewhat, not to have to say it to his face, but it was a confession nonetheless. Not just anyone was privy to that kind of information. It felt like a moment of weakness, but he let himself give it to James.
What is the best sweet at Honeydukes? Was James’ second question. This was slightly less personal, and with a small smile, Regulus wrote his reply; Sugar Quills.
And finally, James’ last question was What do you want to do in the future?
Regulus paused, then put his quill to the paper.
- Merlin, Potter, you’re not my head of house. There’s no need to start asking me about internships and NEWTs. He paused, chewing slightly on the end of his quill, then added If you must know, I want to do something in potions. He paused again. James had signed off his letter with Love, James, which had made Regulus’ stomach flutter, but he wasn’t about to do the same. R.A.B. he outlined decisively at the bottom of his own parchment.
Regulus started as he heard the sound of Pandora’s camera go off. He looked at her, a question in his eyes, and she winked, lowering the camera.
“You were smiling again,” she said in explanation. Regulus felt heat creeping up his neck.
“No I wasn’t.”
“Yes you were,” countered Barty, who looked as though he was trying very hard to figure something out.
“What’s the letter?” asked Evan, then, turning to his cousin, “Or are we not allowed to know yet?”
“You’re not allowed to know,” she confirmed. Barty scoffed.
“So what, we have to wait a whole month?” he complained.
“That’s right,” she nodded. Regulus wondered how they would find out.
***
On the next day, there were three more questions, but there was one in particular that stuck with Regulus.
It had started off well. James had asked “Do you think people are fundamentally good or bad?”
“I suppose you’re one of those people who thinks people are fundamentally good,” Regulus had replied.
“Well yes,” laughed James, “That’s me.” They were sitting in a wide window seat by the staircase to the Astronomy Tower. Regulus had been going to more and more discreet places to see if James would find him, and he did, every time.
“Sorry to disappoint, but I think people are fundamentally bad. It takes effort and patience to be kind. It’s easy to be mean.”
“That’s an interesting take,” commented James, mulling it over before saying, “But just because it’s easier to be cruel, is that necessarily what people ‘fundamentally’ are?”
“I think so,” said Regulus, glancing outside at their view of the grounds, “Cruelty is the default. You have to try if you want to be different.”
And then James had said, “But you try.”
Regulus had looked back at him, surprised.
“What?”
“You try to be kind,” expanded James.
“No, I… No I don’t.”
“Yes you do,” he’d insisted, “Right now, you’re trying to be kind by answering all my questions.”
Regulus had felt his insides turn to ice. He’d looked quickly back outside, steeling himself with a sharp intake of breath.
“That’s not– That’s just besides the point.”
Because it wasn’t kindness that motivated Regulus to wait for James to seek him out everyday. It was something entirely more selfish, and the fact that James… James saw it as a kindness…
It wasn’t even Regulus’ stupid, boyhood crush that made him answer questions like ‘Do you believe in God?’ and ‘What’s your favourite colour?’. He wanted James to like him, he wanted James to be obsessed with him, but his true motive, behind it all, was Sirius. More than anything, he wanted to get back at Sirius. Because James had always been Sirius’, not his. Ever since Sirius had discovered Regulus’ infatuation with his best friend, he’d tried to separate them as much as possible. He didn’t want Regulus to have James, just as Regulus wouldn’t have wanted Sirius to have Pandora.
Sirius didn’t want to see them together, Regulus and James, he never had. He’ll never like you like that , Sirius had told him on many occasions, he’s not interested Reg, you’re just going to break your own heart . Any time James had gotten too close, too flirty, too… Well, too James , with him, Sirius had stepped in immediately. And Regulus had always hated that. How was it any of Sirius’ business anyway? Regulus was old enough to take care of himself, and to do as he saw fit. If he wanted to flirt with James Potter, then he would.
He knew that this arrangement of daily questions would upset Sirius when he inevitably found out. And even if he never found out, it still gave Regulus a sick sort of pleasure to have something like that over him. He couldn’t help it. He disgusted even himself.