“Not anymore”
Monday, September 13, 1976 7:52 PM
The Gryffindor common room was, as it almost always is, is buzzing with excitement when James returned, but for once, the noise barely registered. His mind was still caught on something else— no, someone bothering him, though he wasn’t quite ready to name them.
Regulus Black.
He had meant to just move on—to forget about the way Regulus had stood there, posture rigid, voice sharper than necessary (like always) But James couldn’t ignore the way something had flickered in Regulus’s expression, something barely visible but there nonetheless.
Annoyance? No. Annoyance was too simple. He was used to people being annoyed with him. It happened all the time. This had been… tense.
James hated not understanding things. It happened way more than he would like to admit.
And he especially hated when his thoughts kept circling back to one person when there was no reason for them to do so.
“Prongs?”
James barely heard Sirius’s voice before a very not soft pillow hit him square in the face.
He blinked, pulled the pillow away, and frowned at the three expectant faces staring at him.
“Bloody hell- what was that for?”
“You’ve been sitting there staring into space for the last five minutes,” Remus pointed out, closing his book with his finger still in, so that when the conversation was done he could go back to reading. “That’s not normal.”
James almost growled when he said: “I think I’m allowed to have thoughts, Moony.”
Remus paused for a moment, before responding. “Did you just fucking growl? Did you- did you seriously growl?”
“Shut your bloody mouth moony. You growl too.”
”Only during that time of the month-“
“James, you never have thoughts that make you silent,” Sirius cut in, disrupting the conversation, eyeing him suspiciously. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” James leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. “Just thinking.”
Sirius smirked. “Merlin. That must be exhausting.”
James rolled his eyes, but he was grateful for the easy banter. It gave him something else to focus on.
This is why he likes this bunch, he almost never has to have serious conversations and James hates serious conversations. When he does have them, however, their normally pressing matters like when Moony told the rest of the group he was a werewolf, he knew they were necessary.
“Maybe he’s actually worried about exams,” Peter suggested, snickering.
James, as well as the rest of the group, didn’t even register his comment as serious. Because why would James Potter if all people be fazed about exams?
Remus, however, wasn’t ready to stop the conversation, despite how badly he wanted to get to his book again. His gaze flicked to James, sharp and thoughtful. “Thinking about what?”
James hesitated. Then, against his better judgment, he said, “Regulus.”
Sirius immediately groaned, a mixture of hatred and contempt were evident in his tone. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, what about him?”
James ignored his reaction. “I ran into him earlier. He was—” He stopped, trying to find the right words. “He was arguing with some older Slytherin. Seemed serious.”
Sirius scoffed. “Of course it was. Everything with him is serious.”
“No, everything with you is Sirius. Get it? Huh?” Peter said, and expecting the others to laugh, he laughed. Nobody said a word. “Jeeze ok, I get it.”
During a slightly uncomfortable pause, the song You Keep Hangin’ On was playing in the background, with a group of 3rd years were singing a bit too loud to sound good.
Remus gave James a look, completely disregarding Peter’s comment. “And you cared because…?”
James opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wasn’t sure. That was the problem.
“I don’t know. It just seemed—off.”
“Regulus is off,” Sirius said flatly, getting up from his seat and raking a hand through his hair. “Always has been, and he always will be. And whatever nonsense he’s tangled up in? Not your problem. He’s a slytherin, prongs, he’s a vile man.”
James frowned. “He’s your brother.”
Sirius’s jaw tightened. “Not anymore.”
The words settled heavily between them. Peter shifted uncomfortably. Remus sighed, clearly sensing the conversation veering into dangerous territory.
They all knew of the event that happened that summer prior to the school year, causing Sirius to run away from his parents home and head to the Potters residence. He’d never be going back there, ever, and he’d never look Regulus in the eye again.
Because of this, James didn’t push.
But he also didn’t stop thinking about it.
Because the way Regulus had looked at him—Stay out of it—hadn’t been angry. It had been something else entirely.
Something James still couldn’t shake.
Meanwhile, Regulus pressed his back against the cool stone wall, trying to breathe.
His fingers curled at his sides, nails digging into his palms, as he replayed the moment in the corridor.
James Potter had looked at him with concern. As if he had any right to.
As if Regulus needed it.
He let out a sharp exhale, pushing the thought away. It didn’t matter. What mattered was that Cassius Mulciber had cornered him again, pressuring him into things he wasn’t ready for.
Things he wasn’t sure he would ever be ready for.
Regulus knew what was expected of him. He knew the path that had been carved for him the moment he was born into the Black family. It was a weight he had learned to bear—a role he had learned to play. But lately, he felt like the walls were closing in, like there was no air left to breathe.
He still remembered what Cassius had said to him a week prior:
“Your family’s got one blood traitor already. Think they’d survive another?”
Regulus was becoming… scared. He didn’t want to disappoint them.
And the last thing he needed was James Potter of all people noticing.
Regulus straightened, shaking off the feeling. He was fine. He had to be.
Whatever this was—this sudden attention from James, this irritating insistence on inserting himself where he wasn’t wanted—it wouldn’t last.
James Potter wasn’t his problem.
And he would make sure it stayed that way.
Monday, September 13, 1976 11:04 PM
James didn’t sleep well that night.
He kept tossing and turning, his mind refusing to settle. When he did drift off, his dreams were filled with strange flashes—Regulus’s face half-lit in the dim corridor, his jaw clenched, his voice low and sharp.
You don’t know me, Potter.
He woke up with a start, heart pounding for reasons he didn’t want to think about.
It was nothing. Just a passing thought.
But as he lay there, staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was just the beginning.
That something was shifting.
And that—whether he liked it or not—Regulus Black was going to be part of it.