The Black Snake

Regulus woke with a start, cold sweat coating his skin and eyes roaming the room frantically. His mind was a blur of half-formed thoughts, echoes of nightmares that haunted him throughout the night. He sat on the edge of his mattress, his head in his hands, trying to piece together the events of the night before. 

The cool breeze coming through his broken window—thanks to his crazy ex—ruffled his hair. His racing heart calmed as he realised it was just a dream. There definitely aren’t dead people in his room ripping him apart.

But it wasn’t all just a dream, was it?

The proof was right outside his window. It didn’t help that the city was full of noise the entire night as citizens fled and the walking dead—because that’s a real thing now—tore into the living. The now abandoned police cars outside their building covered in blood and the bodies littering the road. The bodies that were no longer there. As well as the bodies that were still there, only up and moving. Walking. Like nothing happened. Like they aren’t covered in their own blood. Like they didn’t die last night.

What happened yesterday really did happen. It felt surreal, like yet another nightmare he couldn’t wake up from.

Sirius is still here. So is Potter.

Regulus groans. If this really is what he thinks it is, and the view outside is doing nothing to deny that, he’ll likely be stuck with them both for a while. Possibly forever. What a dreadful thought. Stuck with his brother—former brother—who hates him, whom Regulus also hates, and his best friend who has the audacity to…

Regulus hates him too. Possibly more than he hates Sirius. At least his brother has the excuse of their parent’s parenting methods.

He does. Hate them, that is. Regulus wouldn’t lie about that. But he wishes he could forget about the other reasons his heart hurts at the mere thought. All the formerly good memories that are overshadowed by the bad ones. The joy that’s been overcome by anger.

Does it even matter anymore?

Regulus isn’t sure anything matters anymore. If the world really does fall, then it likely won’t. From the looks of things, Hallow City already has. What a waste of his life will the last twenty-two years be then? All that work for naught. Nearly all his current skills would be useless. The traditions and beliefs his mother drilled into him.. all the things he endured as a child, waiting to become an adult so he could finally leave, would have been for nothing. Regulus could laugh. 

Remus might be the only thing anchoring him to whatever shred of normalcy they have left. And he’s thankful that he at least has Remus. But.. They don’t know if Barty and Evan are okay or if they won’t be soon. But Regulus isn’t all Remus has left, and the thought makes him bitter. He has Sirius—and the other one—in every way that matters. 

Regulus is the odd one out. And he knows it’s wrong to think like this but.. Potter would be just as lost as Regulus. He won’t be complete until he finds his son—Regulus hopes he does, he’s not a monster—but he takes comfort in knowing that he wouldn’t be the only one to, possibly, lose just about everything. The thought both comforts him and angers him.

So, instead, he shoves it all down. That’s much easier. Why face your problems when you can bury them?

They had to stay safe, that was the priority. But how? With Sirius’s reckless attitude and James’s tendency to play the hero, keeping them both alive was going to be a full-time job. Not to mention the fact that every time he looked at them, something twisted uncomfortably in his gut.

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He couldn’t afford to let his emotions get in the way, not now. They need to survive, to find the others, and that meant working together, whether he liked it or not.

Regulus finally drags himself out of bed just as the first ray of sunlight can be seen from his window. He doesn’t pay much attention to the clothes he puts on but he makes sure to hide an extra knife in his sleeve. Even if they don’t leave today, he should be prepared.

He shuts his door quietly behind him, not expecting anyone else to be awake yet. And sure enough, it’s still quiet as a mouse. Remus’s door is shut, and the lights are off. Although, the power is out so they would be off even if they were awake. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find outside the safety of his room, but he certainly wasn’t expecting to come face-to-face with James Potter in nothing but his underwear.

Regulus comes to sudden halt, his eyes widening in surprise. Potter had clearly just woken up, his hair even messier than usual, sticking out in all directions as he stood in front of the couch—where he had spent the night since they don’t have a spare bedroom. He was in the middle of getting dressed, though he hadn’t gotten very far—just a pair of boxers covering the essentials, leaving the rest of his toned, tanned body on display.

Regulus pretended not to notice the way the sun kissed his skin. The morning rays glistening on his skin, highlighting every curve of his muscles, like the sun worshipped him. Maybe it does. Regulus isn’t sure he could blame it.

For a moment, he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, his mind occupied with the sight before him. He hadn’t seemed to notice him yet, too focused on rummaging through a pile of clothes on the arm of the couch. 

Regulus’s mouth went dry as his eyes involuntarily traced the lines of James’s muscles, the way his skin looked golden in the morning light. He hated that his body reacted at all, that the sight of James like this stirred something in him that he had no business feeling. He hated that he longed to feel his skin against his, again, even more.

Regulus is typically very good at controlling his body, his expressions, so he keeps from biting his lip. But he loathes the way his fist clenches, nails digging into his skin.

If only Regulus could forget it too. Then, he wouldn’t be dealing with this.. turmoil, right now. Finally—perhaps, all too soon—James seemed to sense he was no longer alone. He glanced up, and their eyes met, a flicker of surprise crossing James’s face before he quickly masked it with his usual easy grin. Regulus’s brain may as well have short-circuited.

“Morning, Reggie,” James said, his voice still rough with sleep, and Regulus had to fight the urge to wince at the nickname rolling off his tongue. James didn’t seem to care about the awkwardness of the situation, like it was perfectly normal for him to be half-naked in someone else’s apartment.

Regulus forced himself to look away, his face carefully blank. “You could at least put some clothes on before wandering around,” he muttered, trying to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks.

James chuckled softly, clearly unbothered. “Sorry, I sleep hot, so this is as dressed as I get at night. Wasn’t expecting anyone to be awake yet, either.”

“Clearly,” Regulus bit out, doing his best to keep his voice steady. He turned away, not trusting himself to look at James for another second. He needed a smoke—something to distract him from this mess and help him clear the haze from his mind.

But even as he walked into the kitchen, he couldn’t quite shake the image from his mind, his pulse quickening in a way that infuriated him. This was going to be a long, complicated day, and he wasn’t sure how he was going to get through it with his sanity intact.

Regulus leaned against the open windowsill, the early morning light filtering through the cracked glass as he lit a cigarette. The nicotine hit his system with a familiar sting, sharp and calming, though it did little to quell the unease bubbling in his chest. The world outside was still despite all the noise from the night before. The quiet was both unnerving and comforting.

He took a slow drag, the smoke curling around him as he exhaled, his thoughts tangled in the mess of emotions that had plagued him since Potter and Sirius had shown up. Seeing Sirius again had been bad enough, all the old wounds ripping open with a painful intensity. But now, with Potter here too, it was like every unresolved feeling, every buried resentment, had resurfaced all at once.

Regulus rubbed at his temples, trying to focus on anything other than the way he had looked at him, the way his presence seemed to invade every corner of his mind. It was infuriating how much Potter had gotten under his skin, how much he still affected him.

A faint rustling from the living room drew his attention, and he glanced back to see Remus walking into the kitchen. Thankfully, alone. He yawns, stretching his sore muscles before noticing Regulus by the window.

“You’re up early,” Remus murmured, his voice low and still heavy with sleep as he walked over to join Regulus, rubbing his eyes.

“Didn’t sleep much,” Regulus replied, stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray by the window. He didn’t offer any other explanation; he didn’t need to. Remus knew him well enough to understand without needing the details.

“Yeah, me neither,” Remus admitted with a tired smile. He looked around the room, “I’ll get us something to eat. We’ll need to talk, all of us, and figure out what our next move is.”

Regulus nodded, grateful that Remus was here, keeping things steady. Without Remus, he wasn’t sure how he’d manage. Regulus watched him for a moment as he moved about the kitchen, before turning his gaze back out the window. He could hear faint voices from the other room—Potter and Sirius, talking quietly, probably about the same things they always did: stupid shit. But a lot has happened in the last twenty-four hours so they might not be. For once.

He wondered what they were saying, if they were discussing him, or if they were still avoiding the elephant, elephants, in the room. Regulus didn’t know how to face Sirius, how to deal with the anger and hurt that had festered between them for so long. And Potter…he was an entirely different problem.

One he wasn’t willing to think about. Even when it invaded his mind.

The sound of cupboards opening and closing brought Regulus out of his thoughts, and he turned to see Remus pulling out a few supplies—some canned goods, bread, actual bread, not the slices Americans call food, and a couple of fruits. It wasn’t much, but it was something.

“The power’s out permanently, I assume,” Remus remarked as he arranged ingredients on the counter. “We’ll have to make do with what doesn’t need cooking.”

Regulus nodded. “Yeah, I noticed. We should start rationing better. Who knows how long we’ll be stuck here.”

“Good idea,” Remus agreed, glancing over at the room where Potter and Sirius were. 

“I think we should stay put for now, wait for things to calm down out there,” Regulus says.

Remus nods as he hands him a plate, “I’ll talk to them about it. Probably best it comes from me anyway.”

Regulus took the plate from Remus with a nod of thanks, his mind already spinning. Staying put was the safest option for now, even if it grated on him to be stuck in such close quarters with Sirius and Potter. He didn’t trust them—didn’t trust their impulsive tendencies, their need to play the hero. If they were going to survive this, they needed to be smart, to think things through, and that wasn’t something Potter or Sirius had ever been particularly good at.

He watched Remus as he moved about the kitchen, the calm efficiency in his movements a stark contrast to the chaos that had taken over the world outside.

The voices from the other room grew louder, and Regulus’s grip on his plate tightened. He could hear James laughing softly at something Sirius had said, the sound so angelic it was almost painful. He didn’t want to think about the easy bond between them, the way they had always been able to find comfort in each other, even in the worst of times. It was something he and Sirius had never had, not really, and the sting of jealousy that accompanied the thought was sharp and bitter.

“Eat,” Remus urged gently, breaking through his thoughts. “You’ll need your strength.”

Regulus forces himself to take a bite of the bread, chewing mechanically as he stared out the window. The world outside was quiet now, but he knew it was only a matter of time before the walkers found their way to this part of the city. They needed to be ready to move at a moment’s notice, to leave everything behind if it meant staying alive.

“We should start gathering supplies,” Regulus said after a moment, his voice low. “Anything we can carry with us if we need to leave quickly. Weapons, food, water.”

Remus nodded, his expression serious. “Agreed. We’ll need to be careful, though. The streets are dangerous, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Regulus glanced over at the closed door of the living room, where they were still talking. “We’ll need to keep them in line,” he added, his tone more pointed. “No heroics. No unnecessary risks. We keep our own safe, or we don’t survive.”

Remus’s gaze followed his, and he sighed softly. “I’ll talk to them,” he promised. “But you know how they are, Reggie. They’re not going to sit back and do nothing if they think someone’s in danger.”

“And that’s exactly what’s going to get them killed,” Regulus muttered, more to himself than to Remus. But he knew it was a losing battle. Potter and Sirius had always been reckless, always rushing headfirst into danger without thinking about the consequences.

The door to the living room creaked open, and Regulus tensed automatically, as Sirius emerged, his expression unreadable as he met Regulus’s gaze.

“Breakfast is ready,” Remus said, breaking the tension before it could take root. He motioned to the table, where the meagre meal was laid out. “Come eat.”

Sirius hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking between Regulus and Remus as if weighing his options. Finally, he nodded and stepped forward, his movements careful, almost wary, as if he were approaching a wild animal. Regulus felt a surge of irritation at that—at the idea that Sirius thought he needed to be handled, that he was some kind of ticking time bomb waiting to go off.

James followed a moment later, still shirtless but thankfully more clothed than before. His presence filled the room in a way that made it feel smaller, more suffocating. Regulus avoided looking at him, focusing instead on the task at hand.

“We need to talk,” Remus said once they were all seated, his tone firm. “About what we’re going to do next.”

“Find Harry,” James said immediately, his voice hard with determination. “That’s all that matters.”

Regulus bristled, but Remus was quick to step in. “We will,” he agreed. “But we have to be smart about it. The streets are dangerous, and we can’t just go rushing out there. If this is what we think it is, we need supplies, weapons. We need to be prepared.”

James opened his mouth to argue, but Sirius cut him off. “He’s right, Prongs. We can’t afford to be reckless. Harry’s out there, but we won’t do him any good if we get ourselves killed trying to find him.”

Regulus was surprised to hear Sirius agreeing with him for once, but he didn’t let it show. Instead, he focused on the plan, on what needed to be done to keep them all alive.

Regulus crossed his arms as he considered their options. “We should start with observing. Maybe this is temporary. Maybe it isn’t. But we definitely can’t go out there without knowing how much damage has been done. Then we can focus on gathering supplies and finding our friends.”

James didn’t look happy about it, but he nodded reluctantly, his jaw clenched. “Fine,” he said. “But the moment we’re ready, we go.”

Regulus didn’t argue. He knew better than to try and change James’s mind when it was made up.

As he walked away, he could still feel their eyes on him, the weight of the unspoken truths hanging in the air. 

The rest of that first day passed uneventfully. For the most part. Regulus spent most of it in his room, merely passing the time or observing the city from his window. He wished he had something to put over it, the carnage outside was beginning to smell. The rest was spent in the kitchen as his unwelcome—but also welcome because of Remus—guests had all but taken over the living room.

— — —

When the sun set and the moon rose, Regulus couldn’t fight the exhaustion in his bones. The city was still quiet and he slept easier than the previous night. But he jumped awake to the sound of screaming. 

He ran to his window and saw one of his neighbours—Amy, she goes to their school—screaming as one of those things bit into her arm. The car she had been trying to get into sped down the road without her. Regulus swallowed the lump forming in his throat. He didn’t care for her, but he didn’t want to see her torn apart either.

He wouldn't try to save her. Too many risks. Regulus isn’t sure she even can be saved. But he knows a particular idiot who might.

And he’s in the living room before he even realises the way it made his heart race. Let alone why.

James Potter is sitting on the couch with his head in his hands, gripping his hair so hard Regulus is surprised he hasn’t torn it out. His door clicks shut and Potter looks up at him with a face so sad it’s.. ridiculous. He didn’t even know her.

“She’s still screaming..”

“And you’re still,” here. But he can’t bring himself to finish the sentence. Not when Potter is looking at him like that.

He lets out a shaky breath, “It’s.. too risky. I can’t find Harry if I get myself killed.”

Regulus doesn’t know how to reply to that. He isn’t good at this. Remus is. Sirius might be, it is his best friend after all. He has a feeling whatever he says would be the wrong thing. And it likely is. “Good.”

But if it is, Potter doesn’t give it any thought. His expression doesn’t change. He merely nods and leans back against the couch, head tilted up as he looks at Regulus.

Regulus doesn’t stay a moment longer. Potter isn’t going to get himself—or the others—killed. 

At least not today.

~•~

Remus wants to stay in Sirius’s arms forever, to wrap himself around him and block out the world. He could feel the warmth of Sirius’s skin, his steady breath against Remus’s chest, and the slow rising and falling of his body as he slept. He wanted this to be enough, for just a few moments longer. 

But the screams of that poor girl rang through his ears, pulling him back to reality. They were the sounds of the world unravelling right outside his window. The confirmation that their new reality was there to stay.

He closed his eyes and tried to drown out the sound, but the guilt gnawed at him. That girl’s death wasn’t even the worst thing going through his head and Remus hated that. The truth was, beneath the sorrow and shock of the apocalypse, a selfish thought had taken root. This tragedy, this horror, it could be what finally brings the Black brothers back together. The idea felt wrong, as if he were using this chaos to further his own desires, but the hope persisted.

Tragedy sparks the best and worst in people, doesn’t it? Maybe it would be enough to break down the walls between Sirius and Regulus. It wasn’t a new hope. Remus had  wished for their reconciliation long before the world began to burn. But now, there was an urgency to it, an opportunity amidst the ruins.

But it wouldn’t be easy. Not when both brothers were so determined to cling to their hatred for each other. Sirius’s bitter resentment, Regulus’s cold disdain—it was all a front, or at least that’s what Remus believed.

He’d seen enough, heard enough over the years to know there was something more beneath the surface, something the rest of the world couldn’t see. Most people wouldn’t pick up on the tiny cracks in their defences, the longing looks, the moments of hesitation, but Remus had been watching. He had latched onto every subtle hint that there was still a chance, that they both wanted to be brothers again, even if they’d rather die than admit it.

Maybe Regulus could even learn to get along with James?

The thought of the two of them getting along made Remus snort quietly. He could just picture it: Regulus Black, the boy who throws knives at James for sport, suddenly becoming best mates with him. That might just be the end of the world. Oh.. wait.

Sirius stirred in his arms, rolling over to face him, and Remus realised the screams must have woken him as sleep was long gone from his features. “What are you snorting about, Moony?”

“Nothing,” Remus hummed, pressing a soft kiss to Sirius’s lips. “Just thinking… We should probably get up. The others are likely already awake.”

“Mmm, maybe,” Sirius murmured, snuggling closer. “But it’s not like we need to.”

“But we should,” Remus sighed, glancing toward the window. The world outside was different now, and they couldn’t afford to waste any time, no matter how much he wanted to bask in Sirius’s warmth.

Sirius jolted suddenly, “Yeah, we should. Before my brother kills my best friend.”

Remus paused, the casual use of “my brother” sending a ripple through him. Sirius almost never referred to Regulus that way—at least not without a slew of insults attached. Something about the way he said it now, with a mixture of annoyance and familiarity, caught Remus off guard. It wasn’t anger. It was something else.

“Sirius?” Remus’s voice was soft, hesitant. “Do… Do you miss him?”

The question hung in the air and for a long moment, Sirius didn’t respond. His face  twisted through a series of emotions, each one fleeting but painfully clear: disdain, guilt, shame, grief, and something that looked an awful lot like hope. 

Remus didn’t need him to answer. He already knew the truth, and had known it for a long time. Sirius missed his brother. He missed him fiercely, but he wouldn’t—couldn’t—admit it.

Remus leaned in, pressing another kiss to his lips, his arms tightening in a protective embrace. “It’s okay, My Love,” he whispered. “You don’t have to say it. I know.”

Sirius trembled in his arms, fingers clutching at Remus’s shirt. “No.. no, you don’t,” Sirius muttered, his voice shaking. “That night. He just stood there, Remus. He didn’t even try to stop them. He didn’t fight for me.”

“Sirius…” Remus tried to soothe him, rubbing gentle circles onto his back.

“No,” Sirius pulled back, his eyes bright with pain. “I loved him. I loved him more than anything, and I did everything to protect him. And, when the roles were reversed and I needed help, he did nothing. Because he didn’t love me enough. I wasn’t enough for him then, and I’m sure as hell not now.”

Remus’s heart broke at the words, at the raw vulnerability in Sirius’s voice. He wanted to take that pain away, to fix the rift between them, but he knew he couldn’t. Not alone. “Sirius… I don’t think that’s true. I think.. I think there’s more to what happened than you know.”

Sirius let out a bitter laugh, his eyes full of disbelief. “What else could it be, Remus? He didn’t stop them because he didn’t care.”

“No,” Remus said firmly, meeting Sirius’s gaze. “I’ve talked to Regulus. He.. hasn’t said much about what happened in that house, but I don’t think—no, I know —that that’s not why he didn’t fight back.”

Sirius stared at him, his expression unreadable. Then, he shook his head. “You’re wrong. He’s just a coward. What else could it possibly be?”

“Maybe,” Remus conceded. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. And coward certainly isn’t the first word I’d use to describe Regulus. I think you should try talking to him.”

Sirius scoffed, pulling away from Remus and rolling onto his back. “And I think we should stay in this bed forever.”

Remus smiled softly, even as his heart ached. He knew this conversation wasn’t over, not by a long shot. But for now, he would let Sirius have his escape. “Maybe,” he whispered, lying back down and pulling him close once more. “But we can’t hide here forever.”

~•~

Remus barges into his room the next morning. Regulus startles at his best friend’s state. His hand runs through his hair and he’s biting his lip as he looks at Regulus.  He paces from the door to his desk for a moment before sitting next to him.  

“Did something happen,” Regulus asks as he sets his book down.

“Are you sure you don’t miss him? At all?”

Regulus’s head snapped up with a glare and he spoke through gritted teeth, “Remus. I-”

“It’s just,” he interrupted, as if he’s worried he wouldn’t be able to make his point known. “If you do.. Now’s the time to get over it don’t you think? We, well, you never know what could happen. Especially now.”

Regulus averted his gaze. Remus is right. He always is. Usually, that just means he gets a great study partner. Now, he apparently gets a therapist.

But what does it matter if Regulus misses his brother? He left. And he hasn’t looked back once. And he hates him for it. Regulus stayed. And Sirius hates him for it. 

Maybe it’s stupid. Something easily repaired if they weren’t both so bloody stubborn. But they are. 

“It doesn’t matter, Remus,” He says softly with a shake of his head.

“It does, Regulus. It does. It matters so much.”

Regulus scoffed.

“Well, not with that attitude,” Remus taps his shoulder. “If you both stopped being so goddamn cross with each other, maybe both would see that the other just wants his brother back.”

Regulus’s gaze snaps back to him. He’s smiling softly at him. His heart clenches. Because isn’t that just..? He trusts that Remus wouldn’t lie to him. But this?

Sirius isn’t.. a normal topic between them. And for good reason. These.. kind of talks are uncomfortable for him. No matter the side, he doesn’t know how to do it. “No.”

“Regulus-”

“Don’t. Remus. Drop it.”

Remus studies him before nodding. He nearly sighs in relief. Perhaps he would’ve. If a loud crash hadn’t sounded outside.

They both jumped up and looked out his window. But they couldn’t see anything. At least not from Regulus’s window. But they could hear. The loud groans of the dead ones. The walkers. It sounded like a lot of them.

They could also hear screams for help. Regulus opened his window more, planning to get a better look from the fire escape stairs. Remus goes back to the others, likely making sure they haven’t thrown caution to the wind in a fool’s errand to help. And that’s exactly what it would be. 

There’s not anything either of them could do for the people in the street.

— — —

It was late afternoon when Sirius finally broke the silence that had lingered for too long. “We’ll need to go out soon. We’re going to run out of supplies.”

Regulus didn’t look up from his spot by the window. His sharp eyes had been watching the street below for hours, tracing the paths of walkers, memorising their movements. “We wait. It’s not safe yet.”

“We don’t have the luxury of waiting forever,” Sirius shot back, his voice carrying a bite of frustration.

Regulus didn’t flinch. He was used to Sirius’s anger, used to the barbs hidden behind his words. He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly. “We won’t survive if we rush out there and get torn apart.”

James, who had been sitting on the floor, glanced between them. “He’s right, Pads. We need to be smart about this.”

Sirius ran a hand through his hair, clearly agitated but unable to argue further. He muttered something under his breath and walked toward the door leading to the hallway, his posture tense.

The air in the room was thick with tension after Sirius left. Regulus knew there was more to his brother’s frustration than just their current situation, but now wasn’t the time to deal with old wounds. They had more immediate problems.

James broke the silence again, his voice soft but steady. “We’ll figure it out, Reg. We always do.”

Regulus didn’t answer right away. He glanced at James, at the way his eyes, filled with determination, caught the dim light of the setting sun. Something about the way he said “we” unsettled Regulus, making him feel more vulnerable than he wanted to admit. 

“We’ll survive,” Regulus finally said, though he wasn’t sure if it was for James’s benefit or his own. He stood up, flicking his cigarette out the window. “That’s all that matters now.”

James nodded, his gaze lingering on Regulus for a moment longer before turning away. Neither of them said anything else, but the weight of everything unsaid hung heavily in the room.

The sun dipped below the horizon, and the night was filled with the groans of the walkers outside, making survival feel like a razor’s edge. But inside that apartment, the silence between them felt just as dangerous.

~•~

When the modern world falls, it falls fast. The first three days after were much the same as the first night.

James stood by the window, his eyes scanning the quiet street below. No movement. Not even the bodies from the people who died yesterday remained. The city felt eerie now—too still, too quiet.

So far, there haven’t been any more screams today. Neither of them have seen any walkers since the horde from yesterday. James shivered. “Horde”. The term couldn’t fit the group of dead ones, the walkers, more. Because that’s how many there were in one place, all following the same people. All monstrous looking with their pale flesh, more often than not ripped apart. Blood covered their bodies and their hands. Some even had gaping wounds, that they definitely shouldn’t be able to walk about with. And yet they did.

And then there was also the issue of Regulus Arcturus Black.

Remus talked to him briefly yesterday about Sirius and Regulus. How he thinks maybe they could have each other again. James was on board immediately, glad to not be the only one. How he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up to Regulus or wait. James said he should but he doesn’t know if he did, or how it went if he had.

But James wants to try talking to him as well. Maybe they could get to know each other better.

He glances over at the subject of his thoughts from his position by the kitchen window—he had been keeping watch. Regulus and Remus were talking about what to bring, and what to leave behind, supplies laid out before them. He sees Regulus get up and leave the apartment. He left? What is he thinking? He isn’t actually leaving is he?

He heard the floor creak before Sirius came into view, breaking his line of thoughts.

“Take a break,” he said, stepping up to the window. “I’ll keep watch.”

James nods, gratefully stepping away from his post, “Thanks, Padfoot.”

He slipped out of the kitchen, his mind already drifting to Regulus, who he had seen leave just moments before. There was something about him—something that pulled at James’ curiosity. Maybe it was the mystery of who he was outside of Sirius’s estranged little brother. Or maybe it was the memory of Remus’s birthday party. He didn’t want to think too much about it.

Remus was still packing supplies, neatly folding a blanket into a bag. “Where’d Reg go?” James asked, keeping his voice low.

“The roof,” Remus replied without looking up.

James didn’t need to be told twice.

He hurried into the hallway, passing a couple of their neighbours on the way out. One man was hacking into a tissue, his eyes bloodshot and glassy. James had tried to offer him help, but the man told him to piss off.

So, James did.

Up on the roof, he found Regulus sitting on the ledge, silhouetted against the sunset. The orange light painted his pale skin in gold, making his black curls shimmer in the breeze. For a moment, James just watched him, struck by the strange, quiet beauty of the scene.

“Regulus?” He called, trying to keep his voice steady.

Regulus turned slightly, his scowl evident even from a distance. “What now, Potter?”

James scratched the back of his neck, feeling awkward all of a sudden. “I.. uh, I have a question I need to ask you.”

Regulus huffed. “No.”

James blinked, caught off guard, “But—what? It’s important. I really need to ask you a question.” 

Regulus turns around fully, his sharp gaze pinning James in place. 

“What?”

James faltered under the weight of his stare. There were a million questions swirling in his mind, but which one was safe to ask first? Which one wouldn’t chase Regulus away? He could see Regulus’s growing impatience with each passing second with the way his brow twitched slightly and the small tapping of his index finger.

“Spit it out, Potter,” Regulus snapped.

“What’s your favourite colour,” James flushes at the words that come pouring out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to ask that one.

“That’s your important question? My favourite colour,” he blinks, raising a brow incredulously.

Might as well roll with it now. It’s not like James doesn’t want to know the answer. So, he crosses his arms defensively, “Yes.”

“You’re ridiculous, Potter,” he shakes his head but James still sees the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Just answer the question. Please?” James pressed.

Regulus sighs, leaning back on the ledge he mutters, “Green.”

He hums, “Favourite animal?”

He rolls his eyes but still replies, “Cats.”

James grins as thinks about how similar Regulus is to a cat, “What about-”

“Jesus, Potter, what is this? Twenty-one questions?”

“Maybe.. It can be, if you want it to be. I thought it would be nice to take a moment to not worry about.. everything.”

“Usually both players get to ask questions.”

“Ask me anything.”

His eyes narrow in on James, “Why are you so keen on asking me questions?”

“I, well, I’m curious. I realised I don’t really know you and it seems like we’re all going to be stuck with each other for a while, so I feel like I should know you. At least a little bit. If that’s okay.” It may not be the whole truth, but it is a truth.

Regulus studies him for a minute, “Favourite animal?”

“Stags. And don’t you want to know my favourite colour too?”

“Already know that one.”

He knows? How? Why? Is he paying attention to James?

“Oh, really? What is it then?”

“Red. Same as Sirius. Why stags?”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he smiles. “I like what stags represent. Now, I believe it’s my turn, so what were you studying?”

“Science and business. You?”

“Medicine, family medicine specifically.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, “I wanted to be a surgeon but after Lily and I had Harry I wanted a career that didn’t take up too much of my time.”

“Makes sense..” James gets the feeling he wants to say more. He watches him closely, trying to read past the scowl. He was beautiful, sure—almost too perfect, like a marble statue. But there was something more to him, something James couldn’t quite grasp. He needed to understand him. 

For Sirius.

“What about you? What career were you chasing?”

“Don’t know,” he shrugs. “Obviously my family wanted me to take over the business but I’ve always liked science, chemistry.”

James smiles to himself, imagining Regulus in a lab coat and safety goggles. And the way the setting sun caught in Regulus’s hair, turning it an almost coppery hue, made James’ breath catch for just a second.

Now’s not the time. There was a lull in the questions and James could feel the weight of all the unasked ones pressing at the back of his throat. He was studying business.. For the family? Or himself? He wasn’t sure if he was willing to break the fragile peace between them, but part of him felt like he had to. Because if not now, then when?

“Do you..”

“My turn,” he interrupts, his tone a bit harsh.

“Right,” James swallows and nods his head. Probably shouldn’t ask about that yet.

The questions go back and forth for a little while, but neither ask any of the deep questions that are pressing on the tip of James’ tongue. Frantic to be released. Another time perhaps.