All Because
Winter was on its way and Regulus was beginning to feel cold within the stony castle walls. Outside, the Scottish hills rolled out as far as the eye could see, bleached white by the frost that clung to the grass. A deep chill had worked its way through the air, so that each breath he took was sharper, more piercing and he could see it in a fleeting cloud of mist when he breathed out. The sun was a pale, weak warmth in the distance, but it didn’t matter, because James was warm enough for all the winters.
At present, Regulus was draped over him as if he were a sofa. He’d never lain in anyone’s arms the way he was now, so clumsily and without shame. James was like a furnace, and he held Regulus against him as if he would never let go. It was wonderful.
He could feel the steady rise and fall of James’ chest underneath him, and if he concentrated, he could hear the muffled thud of his heartbeat, slow and calm. He wasn’t looking at James’ face, and he wondered if maybe he’d fallen asleep.
“James?” he asked quietly, propping himself up to get a look at his face. James’ eyes were indeed closed, but he blinked them open with a grunt to show he was awake. Regulus smiled softly at the sight of him.
“What is it?” asked James groggily. Regulus’ smile faded, and he leant down to rest his head on James’ chest again, so he wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes.
“What I said… in the bathroom, it doesn’t change anything, does it?”
“Of course not,” James assured him, his arms holding Regulus tighter, “I’m glad you told me.” Regulus could feel the vibration of James’ voice through his chest. “Things aren’t different, I just feel closer to you now,” he paused, “Like I said, I want to know about you, and be in your life.”
“Well,” replied Regulus, appeased with this answer, “It was a pretty big thing to know.”
“The Black Family’s best kept secret?”
Regulus laughed dryly. He’d forgotten he’d said that to James.
“Exactly.”
“I suppose I better tell you a secret in return,” mused James.
“You really should,” agreed Regulus, facing him once again, “It’s only proper,” he added.
James raised a hand to his chin and furrowed his brows in comically deep thought. Regulus couldn’t help but laugh again.
“Oh!” exclaimed James after a minute or so of this pose, “I’ve got a good one.”
“Go on then,” prompted Regulus. James grinned.
“I’ve got an invisibility cloak,” he boasted. Regulus wasn’t very impressed.
“From a prank shop?” he scoffed.
“No,” replied James indignantly, “Family heirloom - proper quality.” Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I’m not joking!” he insisted.
“I think I have to see it to believe it,” decided Regulus.
“Well,” mused James, “It’s in my dorm at the moment…”
“If you think I’m going to be standing up and climbing stairs anytime soon then you are sorely mistaken.”
“I thought as much,” replied James, pulling Regulus down against him, “I’ll have to show you some other time.”
James kept his word, and when Regulus saw the cloak a week later, he had to admit he was impressed. It was indeed ‘proper quality’, especially if James was right about it being a longstanding family heirloom. At present, James was wearing it around his shoulders so that he had the unsettling appearance of a floating head.
Regulus ran the silky material through his fingers, trying not to look too much in awe of it - and struggling. A sudden question struck him, and he looked up at James’ grinning, detached head.
“Were you ever under the cloak around me?” he asked, “And I didn’t notice?”
“It’s probably happened at some point,” revealed James, “We run a lot of pranks using this thing. I’ll bet we’ve passed you in the hallway a few times.”
“That,” said Regulus, standing back with crossed arms, “is very unsettling.”
“Is it?” asked James.
“Yes.”
“Well, my apologies then. We never used it to spy on you, if that’s what you think.”
Regulus frowned.
“I should hope you didn’t!”
James laughed, easily, fluidly.
“We didn’t!” he defended.
“How come you always know where to find me?” asked Regulus suddenly, “Whenever you had questions to ask, you always knew exactly where to find me, even if I was just in a corridor or something. Were you using the cloak?”
“No I…,” James looked at him guiltily, “That’s a different secret,” he disclosed, “But I’m afraid I can’t tell you that one, I’m sworn to secrecy.”
Regulus narrowed his eyes.
“I can’t!” insisted James, “My lips are sealed.”
“Fine,” he replied, “I suppose I’ll just have to find that one out for myself.”
“You’ll never guess,” announced James confidently, finally taking off the cloak to hang it over his arm.
“Do you have some sort of tracker? Some sort of map?”
James looked right at him, silent for a moment.
“It’s nothing like that,” he replied, laughingly, “Something.. completely different. Like I said, you’ll never guess.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, and that was that.
“You could… you could use the cloak, if you like,” offered James cryptically.
The next evening, Regulus found himself under the strange material, heading to the Gryffindor Tower. There was no party this time, only an invitation from one James Potter.
Regulus felt a thrill to be sneaking about like he was. Pandora hadn’t been very impressed with him, but he wasn’t going to miss an opportunity to lie in James Potter’s bed. He wasn’t sure how James had meant the invitation, but he would find out soon enough.
He whispered the password to the painting guarding the door, and then he was in. The common room was empty apart from a snoring third year taking up the sofa. It was dark except for the fire that crackled next to the sleeper, and Regulus crept past him and up the stairs until he found what he was sure was James’ dorm.
He put his ear to the door and heard silence. Regulus breathed a sigh of relief, he’d been worried that the friends would still be up and messing around at this hour, and he was glad to be wrong. Gingerly, he turned the handle and pushed the door slowly and quietly open. It was definitely the right dorm; he recognised Sirius’ trunk in the corner, with Remus’ red jumper sprawled over it. Regulus closed the door shut behind him and surveyed the beds. They all had their brilliantly red curtains drawn, and there were five of them.
Regulus took off the cloak, bundling it up and placing it carefully in the trunk marked J. P. at the end of the third bed. He approached the corner of the curtains and drew it slightly back to slip inside. James was expecting him, so he shouldn’t have been alarmed—
“Regulus?” whispered a voice that was very much not James. Regulus froze, looking around at his brother.
“Sirius,” he whispered, unsure what else to say. Sirius watched him blankly.
“What are you doing here?” he asked. Regulus’ mind spun.
“I, er, wanted to share a bed, like old times,” he lied. What was he doing? What was he saying? Why had James’ trunk been at the foot of Sirius’ bed? He watched Sirius carefully, praying he’d buy the lie.
“Get over here,” chuckled Sirius, and Regulus reluctantly joined him under the covers. He wondered if this had been James’ plan all along, but tried to vanish the thought. “You alright?” Sirius asked him.
Regulus had drawn the covers up to his chin, and he was feeling very silly. He wondered if Pandora had known, when he’d left, that this would happen. He wondered if she was laughing about it now.
“I’m ok,” he replied.
“Ok,” smiled Sirius, lying down beside him, “You know you can tell me, right?”
“I know,” replied Regulus.
“Do you?”
Regulus stopped staring at the canopy and turned to face Sirius. James had been talking about telling Sirius about them for a while now. Regulus thought it was a terrible idea. It would hurt Sirius - he knew it would hurt him, because that had been the whole point to begin with, but now it all just felt stupid.
“That night when we made up,” continued Sirius, “You were upset.”
“I was,” agreed Regulus, turning back to the bed’s canopy. “Pandora said something that… she upset me,” he paused, pursing his lips, “I upset her too.”
“Need me to hex her?” offered Sirius flippantly.
“No,” groaned Regulus, “We made up, it’s all fine now.”
“Alright then,” said Sirius, “If you’re sure.”
There was a lapse of silence.
“If you ever need me to hex Barty—
“I can do that myself,” Regulus cut in.
“Maybe you should do it more often,” he suggested.
“Just because you’re not his biggest fan—
“I swear he cast a tripping jinx on me today in the hallway—
“Sirius,” warned Regulus.
“What?”
“Just leave him be, Barty’s fine.”
“Fine,” said Sirius reluctantly, “Fine.” Regulus eyed him warily.
They hadn’t slept in the same bed for ages. Regulus wasn’t sure when the last time had been. At Grimmauld House, one of them always had to sneak away to their own bed in the morning so they wouldn’t be discovered, and it never happened at school. Regulus thought he had missed this, a little.
“If I cast a tripping hex on Barty that’s fair because he did it to me, you know.”
“Sirius!” he hissed. Sirius shut up.
Regulus glanced over at him, and he thought about how, intentionally or not, this was all because of James Potter that he was in this bed, having this conversation. It was a strange thing to think.
For the first time in a long while, he started to think about the silver and ivory comb, the catalyst that had been the breaking point in Sirius running away, and felt guilt like a stone in his stomach.
“What?” asked Sirius, who had noticed his staring.
Regulus didn’t say anything, but he wrapped his arms around his brother and held him close.