i knew you once

Sirius stared at the fairy lights on the tree until they started to blur and shift, his own eyes burning from how long he had gone without blinking. The fire in the hearth blazed beside it, spitting out ash and embers everytime the wood cracked and broke and Sirius could see the wood pile dwindling but couldn’t be bothered to do anything about it.

He averted his gaze from the tree to look out at the dreary day beyond, snow flurries drifting down from the billowing clouds to stick to the windowpanes and the trees in the garden. It had been a rather cold winter and where once he might have rejoiced at the sight of snow, he now sat emotionless, as cold on the inside as it was outside.

It was Christmas morning and yet he had never felt less spirited. He didn’t know why Lopsy felt so compelled to put up a tree and decorations when there was no point- there was nothing to celebrate.

He finally turned when Remus walked into the den, two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in his hands, “Happy Christmas,” he murmured, settling down on the sofa beside him, “You’re up rather early.”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he replied, then belatedly added, “Happy Christmas.” Neither of them made a move towards the drinks.

A knot suddenly formed in his throat, one he couldn’t swallow past, and his stomach turned sour as he looked around the room. It was too big and too empty, every room in this manor was. Even the cosy den seemed too large with just the two of them in it. He often frequented the library for the sole reason that the sheer amount of books made him feel less alone.

Losing Effie and Monty was one thing, their family of four shrinking to two, but now Sirius was alone in this manor and he couldn’t stand it. He drifted like a ghost from room to room, always hoping to run into somebody and failing.

He remembered in the early days after James left, he’d hear a noise coming from his room and he’d run towards it, expecting him to be there, only to find Lopsy, their house elf, cleaning, looking up at him with a sad smile on her face. 

In the darker and more lonely nights, he’d hallucinate James creeping into his room, apologising for being out for so long, and crawling into bed next to him like they did so often in first year. He’d wake up curled around a pillow and begin crying until he fell back asleep again.

“I miss them too,” Remus murmured as though reading his mind, pulling Sirius towards him to cradle him in his arms.

“I just feel…so alone,” he whimpered, fisting Remus’ thin top in an attempt to grasp onto something real.

“You’re not alone love,” Remus replied, running his warm hands up and down his back and he knew he had Remus, he loved him with all of his heart, but he couldn’t make up for the loss of James- no one could. He couldn’t describe James as a friend or partner because he was so much more than that- he was his twin flame that had been snuffed out far too soon.

“Can we just stay in today, I really don’t want to see anybody,” he whispered, peering up at Remus.

He nodded, looking down at him and pressing a gentle kiss upon his brow. Sirius hated seeing his own pain mirrored in Remus’ amber eyes- he tried so hard to keep it together for him but Sirius saw the way he ached and cried when he thought he was alone, why he would volunteer to go out on missions just so he had something to distract himself from reality.

Losing Peter and James in a single night was unimaginable and every other loss had been compounded on top of that in a weight so heavy that Sirius was sure they would soon crack.

Their hot cocoa went cold on the table as the snow fell harder in a steady heartbeat that matched his own. He turned in Remus’ arms so his back faced the tree and shut his eyes, wishing for this nightmare to end- that he might wake up to James running into the room, alive and whole.

He woke up hours later to a dark room, an empty sofa, and an ash-filled hearth.

____________

“May I come in?” James asked, smiling down at Kreacher and hoping he was in a good mood today.

The elf mercifully stepped back and allowed him entry. 

The house looked marginally cleaner than the last time he’d visited- the air held less dust, and the corners were no longer choked with cobwebs. His gaze lingered on the elf heads lining the staircase and he felt an urge to take them down though he wasn’t sure how Kreacher would react to him taking matters of restoration into his own hands.

“I wanted to ask if I could go up to Regulus’ room,” he said, turning around to face the elf.

He didn’t necessarily need Kreacher’s permission but it also didn’t feel right to just barge into the house and into all the rooms without asking seeing as he was now its only permanent resident. Besides, house-elves were deceptively powerful—Kreacher could easily snap his fingers and send him halfway to Aruba if he wanted to.

"Why is James wishing to see Master Regulus’ room?" Kreacher glowered, tilting his head as his large, unblinking eyes seemed to peer right through him.

"I just...miss him, and thought it would be nice to see the room again," he replied. It wasn’t entirely untrue, so it was easy to sound sincere.

Kreacher stayed quiet for a long moment, “Kreacher is thinking James is very confused.”

“What?”

“James is not coming here for years but is coming too many times now,” the elf said, his voice heavy with suspicion. His bony fingers twitched slightly at his sides, and his posture stiffened as he continued “James must be being confused on how much time is being passed since Master Regulus left us.”

It felt as though the air had been knocked from his lungs, but before he could respond, Kreacher’s head tilted sharply, as if he were listening to something in the distance. James heard nothing, but whatever it was clearly unsettled the elf. His face twisted into a sour expression before he croaked, “Kreacher must be getting back to work now but Kreacher will be checking on James soon.” Without waiting for a reply, he vanished with a sharp pop, leaving an uneasy silence in his wake.

Again with whatever it was he ‘had to do.’ James's curiosity flared, but he forced himself to stay focused. He couldn’t afford distractions now. The last thing he wanted was to give Lily more reason to worry; the awkward silences at home had already stretched long enough, especially after the nights he’d come home late without an explanation. Whether he was tangled up here or at St. Mungo’s, he just couldn’t find the words to justify his absence.

He climbed two flights of stairs, the creak of each step echoing in the stillness. The air grew noticeably colder the higher he went, as though the walls themselves sensed the lifelessness that clung to these upper floors.

James had never truly seen Grimmauld Place in such detail before, and now, as he walked its darkened halls, he understood Sirius and Regulus’ pain with startling clarity. The house was suffocatingly windowless, shrouded in shadows that clung to the corners, watching him with unseen eyes. The portraits of long-dead ancestors sneered down at him with disdain, as if his mere presence was an offence, as if he had no right to exist in this place. Every step he took sent a loud creak through the floorboards, betraying him, making it impossible to move unnoticed.

A chill ran down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck prickling, and he instinctively rubbed at his gooseflesh-covered arm. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he caught his own reflection in an old, dusty mirror, his heart pounding at the sudden sight of himself. Shaking his head, he pressed on, determined to ignore the eerie feeling of it all.

He finally reached a set of doors, one on either side of him- Sirius’ to the left, Regulus’ to the right.

As if on their own accord, his feet turned left.

Sirius’ door was locked, the handle refusing to budge as he strained against it. He pulled his wand out and cast multiple spells to open the door but it remained locked. Eventually, he just spelled the screws out of the handle and dismantled it entirely so the door swung open on its creaky hinges.

The air was stale and still inside, not even dust floated in the air, like all life had been put on pause in here. Half stuck up and torn posters littered the grey painted walls and his bed covers were splotchy tones of red and green. James lifted a hand to touch it and the colours shifted weirdly and he realised that Sirius must’ve spelled them Gryffindor red against the green they originally were and it didn’t take right.

His shelves were lined with some books and other random pieces of decoration but between them were candy wrappers, bottles, cigarette packs, and other junk that Sirius would’ve found enjoyable. There was a crate of vinyls to the floor on his left and his record player sat smashed beside it, the pieces crunching under his feet as he moved. He picked up the crate and, using his wand, sent them over to his room, or atleast, that’s where he intended to send it- things tended to get mixed up in the void.

On his dresser, James found a framed photo of him and Regulus. A crack splintered the glass over Regulus' face, so James flipped the frame over and gently pulled out the worn picture. The edges were frayed, the paper soft from years of handling, so he lifted it carefully to eye level for a closer look.

The two of them must have been around ten and eleven then. Sirius was sitting in a regal-looking chair with Regulus beside him, a hand resting lightly on his shoulder. Both wore the most formal robes James had ever seen—Sirius in onyx, Regulus in emerald—their lapels adorned with jewels set into the Black family crest. Their vests and trousers were intricately sewn with brocade to match the opulence of the rest of the scene. James guessed this was taken around the time Sirius was 'announced' as heir, an archaic pureblood tradition that never made sense to him, but was apparently deemed necessary.

He pocketed the photo.

His armoire was still full of clothes, having been unable to take them with him when he escaped, but it was unlikely he wanted any of them anyway. His wardrobe was full of finely made robes, neatly hung on equidistant rungs- they were untouched by time and James imagined a lesser wizard might have dreamed of having robes like these.

The room was similar to his room at Potter manor, if more muted with echoes of the aristocratic home this once was, and he took one last look before turning on his heel and heading into the room across the hall, not bothering to restore the handle.

James was rather stunned when he opened this door, though for an entirely different reason.

Regulus’ room was in pristine condition.  The bedsheets looked hand-pressed, tucked and folded with precision beneath perfectly fluffed pillows. The drapes were pulled open to let in natural light and the window was cracked to allow for some fresh air but it wasn’t as if they had just been abandoned that way because nothing in the room had just been left exposed to the elements. His desk and dresser surfaces were clean without a trace of dust and the hardwood floors practically gleamed with polish.

A pang of sadness struck James as he realised this must be the only room Kreacher tended to regularly, as if the elf still hoped Regulus would one day walk back through the front door.

James moved to the desk, opening drawers and rifling through blank parchment, dried-up inkwells, and old quills. The following drawers revealed school assignments, yellowed with age and not worth keeping. He closed them gently and turned his attention to the armoire.

Regulus' wardrobe was mostly filled with formal robes, though James noticed some casual pieces tucked discreetly to the side—evidence that, unlike Sirius, Regulus had managed to avoid constant scrutiny in his later years by Walburga who had unwavering trust in his obedience. He had a sizable collection of jumpers and James quickly grabbed a few, picking one's large enough to fit him as he planned to wear them to the café soon.

At the bottom of the armoire, James noticed a chest. He knelt down and lifted the lid, pushing aside the hems of robes and trousers in an attempt to peer inside. Frustration bubbled up when he couldn't see clearly, so with a huff, he sat down on the floor and pulled the entire chest out, determined to sift through it properly.

Within, James saw a mess of thick parchment amid leather bound journals and books. He pulled one of these books out to read the cover: Ancient Magicks: A Journey Into the Unknown. The journal under it was practically bursting at the seams and James opened it to see Regulus’ handwriting but it wasn’t his usual elegant script but rather a scratchy and harsh iteration of it, as though he were rushing or stressed while writing.

James didn’t really understand much of it and he flipped pages to reveal pages from other books plastered inside as though it were incredibly necessary to have everything in one place.

The words within were unfamiliar jargon as he continued flipping through the notebook and he sighed, putting it aside and grabbing another one but it was more of the same. The books were all related to dark or ancient magic and he could only assume that Regulus had them for Voldemort-related reasons.

Just as he was about to shove everything back inside, something caught his eye—a piece of parchment, folded in half and tucked into the side of the box. He pulled it out, revealing a charcoal sketch of the same locket Kreacher kept downstairs in his cupboard- that which killed Regulus Black. James stared at the drawing for a moment before carefully placing everything but the sketch back into the chest and sliding it away.

He grabbed a few more items from the shelves and drawers, stuffing them into a bag he found in the closet and once done, he hurried out and gently shut the door behind him.

He didn’t get to see Kreacher on his way out of the house but that was okay, he didn’t imagine the elf wanted to see him anyways so he apparated off the front porch, quickly hurrying home.

____________

He arrived at their flat to find Lily sweaty and stressed as she paced around the sitting room. Her head snapped up at his arrival, “Bloody hell, where were you?”

“I went on a walk after the shift today, why?” he asked, meeting her halfway, his eyes darting around the room as if he could find the source of her worries.

“We need mobile phones,” was all she said in reply. Then she dropped onto the sofa hopelessly, “I was making lunch for Harry and I but then he started having a fit and the water on the stove started bubbling over into the fire causing everything else to light on fire and it was a disaster and…I summoned my wand to put it all out.”

It took James a moment to remember that they weren’t supposed to do that and that this was a big deal, “Oh Lils that’s alright.”

“And if death eaters come knocking down our door because they could trace my wand then what?” she frowned, worry lines marring her face.

“I doubt that’ll happen and even then, not using magic was more of an additional layer of protection, I don’t think they can actually trace our magic in that way,” he sighed trying to reassure her, knowing firsthand that using their magic wouldn’t bring anything or anyone down upon them.

She levelled him with a look, “Look, realistically I understand that but at the same time, death eaters don’t-,” she struggled to find the right words, “They don’t follow the same rules we do. Dark magic can help you find anybody on earth with a sample of their blood, it can conjure up all sorts of dark beings, and can kill somebody in a dozen different and inhumane ways. I wouldn’t put it past them to be able to manage some sort of tracking or tracing spell.”

“Lily, that’s a hole we can’t start digging ourselves into,” he nodded because technically she was right but if all they did was sit around and start thinking about the many ways they could be found, then they’d be truly lost. They would spend all their time staring at the door rather than doing anything else at all. “But I do agree, we should probably get mobiles so we can at least find a way to speak to each other.”

They all went out that evening to buy themselves their very first mobile phones.

____________

James went into work the following week wearing a large emerald green jumper. It was finely woven and wasn’t something as structured as he would usually wear but it is something Regulus would, seeing as he stole it from him. He paired it with a scarf that Regulus had actually gotten him for Christmas a few years ago and had hoped that one or both the items managed to trigger something in his memory.

He was lucky Regulus was in the shop more often than not these days, a phenomenon that he apparently brought on but James didn’t know how much he actually believed that. In any case, he doesn’t come in as early as he does so he was ready to get to his usual routine when he arrived and saw not Marc, but Regulus, unlocking the door to the cafe.

“This is new,” he noted, entering behind him.

“Well, Marc called out sick this morning and seeing as you’re still learning, I had the pleasure of waking up early today to come in and help,” he responded, shucking off his coat and rubbing his palms together as he played with the heating system.

“Marc said I’ve actually been doing rather well lately on my own,” he retorted.

Regulus waited a beat before saying, “Well I didn’t want to leave it to chance.”

Maybe Marc was onto something then with the whole ‘Regulus making excuses to come in’ idea.

James considered this version of Regulus as they worked and wondered if this is what it might have been like if they never went to school together, if he had instead gone to Beauxbatons and if there had never been a war.

He was catching glimpses of a Regulus unburdened by the weight of family or societal expectations—a version of him free to live however he chose, where his biggest worry was how to arrange the books on the shelf or what new drink to add to the café menu.

Their relationship, in the past, had been built on a mountain of complexities. Flirting with Regulus had been challenging, to say the least; it had taken endless patience and time to get him to open up, much less feel comfortable around James in any meaningful way. Even simple conversation had been a struggle. 

If they hadn’t been paired together in Potions, James doubted they would have connected at all. But now, this Regulus felt different—open, at ease with himself in a way he never had been before.

Regulus spoke more freely now, his words unguarded in conversation. He blushed when James or Marc said something suggestive, and laughed easily at their jokes. It was as though he was finally allowing himself to feel the full range of emotions life had to offer—where before, everything had been dampened by an ever-present weight of melancholy and stress.

Regulus even looked healthier and James wondered if he was being selfish.

Was Regulus’ life better this way? Would reversing the curse be worse than letting him go on this way? He had forgotten his family and had gotten the dark mark erased- is that not a blessing?

But when Regulus looked at him, warmer than at first, it still held an air of distance. He didn’t know him or Sirius or why he was even in Paris instead of at his home in London. Above all, he didn’t know about magic and that might be the biggest tragedy of all.

They worked in relative silence as they opened the shop and while waiting for their first customers to trickle in, James felt Regulus’ eyes on him.

“What?” 

“Nothing,” he replied, snapping out of whatever daze he was in and turning away, focusing on the register instead.

“Have I got something on my face? Is it my hair?” 

“It’s not that,” he said.

“Then?”

Regulus eyed him again, “I like your jumper, it compliments your eyes.”

James couldn’t help but smile, “Does it?”

Regulus rolled his eyes as he scoffed, “I take it back, your jumper is shite.”

“The friend I stole this from would be rather displeased to hear you say that.”

“Ah so that’s why you moved to Paris then? To escape the wrath of your friend?” he chuckled.

“Precisely right Regulus,” he winked.

He hummed before adding, “And your scarf?”

“Well this was a gift from a friend, feel it,” he held out one end to Regulus. He eyed it dubiously before reaching out and his eyes widened as he continued to feel it.

“This must be what touching a cloud feels like,” he awed.

James then reached out an arm so he could feel the material and though he was hesitant at first, Regulus slowly placed a hand on his bicep, his touch feather-light as he traced up and down his arm. They were standing so close now that James could see every fleck of blue within his silver irises. Regulus’ breath was warm as it fanned over his neck, and even he seemed to sense the invisible thread tightening between them, drawing them closer with each passing breath.

Everything else in the café seemed to fade into the background, the clatter of the machines and the hum of the music becoming distant, insignificant. All James could focus on was Regulus—the warmth of his breath, the nearness of him. The urge to reach out and kiss him swelled inside him, almost overwhelming, as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of them at this moment.

He didn’t know which of them moved first but they were infinitely closer until a loud ringing sound stole their attention and they jumped apart.

James turned to the counter and couldn’t see anything except a pair of chubby hands gripping the edge of the counter so he leaned over it to see a young girl, holding some loud toy in her hand.

“Bonjour,” he said, leaning comically far over the counter as she dropped her head back to stare up at him, laughing. Her exasperated mother followed in after her a few moments later, giving her order to Regulus while he continued to make faces at the girl who was matching him in turn, sticking her tongue out and crossing her eyes.

When she finished, the little girl, who he now knew as Emilie, didn’t want to leave so her mum ended up picking her up off the floor and physically removing her from the counter, a move he had to do to Harry many a time, and to stop her from crying, James just waved ‘goodbye!’ really aggressively and she copied him before her attention was grabbed by something else and the crisis was averted.

He turned back to Regulus with a sigh and came up short, “What?”

“You’re just- really good with kids- I mean I know you have a son but still,” he stammered as he started making the espresso for her drink.

“I didn’t think I’d be cut out for it, you know?” James admitted, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “When I found out Lily—my son’s mum—was pregnant, I was absolutely terrified. But somehow, things worked out.” He chuckled softly. “I still don’t know if I’m doing any of it right, but I’m trying my best. As long as Harry’s happy, then I’m happy too.”

Regulus listened thoughtfully, nodding along. “Well, from an outsider’s perspective, it sounds like you’re doing great. I don’t know how I would’ve handled news like that… not that I think I’d ever have to, but still.”

James gazed at him blankly, the gears in his head turning as he wondered whether to state the obvious or not, or if it even was obvious. 

“I prefer the company of men you see,” Regulus continued with a smirk playing on his lips and James laughed at the way in which he so bluntly put it.

“As do I- on occasion,” he replied and he finished making the woman's drink and he could see Regulus processing the information in his peripheral and was thankful that he was now aware of it. 

He imagined how it might come across as confusing to some given that he had Harry and still lived with Lily in Paris of all places but he knew quite early on that he was not only attracted to women but also Remus in fourth year or Frank in his quidditch kit yelling at him at six in the morning. 

He served the woman her drink and made Emilie a small hot chocolate and he and Regulus spent the rest of their shift dancing around each other and flitting to and from different topics of conversation as James catalogued new pieces of information about him and anything that might’ve changed between before and now.

At the end of their shift, Marc came in, feeling much better now, and took over, shooing the both of them out and they dutifully listened.

“Did you do anything fun for New years? You strike me as a party animal,” James joked with Regulus as they walked along the pavement. Neither of them spoke about it but had found themselves trailing along the other with no real destination in mind.

Regulus shrugged, “Very funny but no, parties aren’t really my thing.”

“What are your things?” he asked then, shoving his hands in his pockets and staring ahead.

Regulus shrugged as he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it up even more than it already was but it still somehow suited him, “I’m not sure.”

James opened his mouth, the words spilling out before his brain had caught up. “Well, I was wondering if…,” he started, feeling the words scatter like leaves, especially as he took in the sight of Regulus. The chill had painted his nose and cheeks a faint pink, and his wide eyes held a spark of curiosity. His words trailed off as he blurted, “If maybe you’d like to… go out with—”

“Yes,” Regulus interrupted, breathless.

A grin pulled at James's lips before he could stop it, and he watched the same tender hope flicker over Regulus’s face as he returned the smile, biting the inside of his cheek just as he always did.

Then James felt a strange shift, like the ground itself had tilted—or maybe it was just him. His balance slipped, and suddenly he was crashing toward the pavement.

He let out a string of curses that would have made a sailor blush, while Regulus dropped to his side in an instant, his own expletives tumbling out as he knelt down. “Are you okay?”

Groaning, James glanced back at the offending bit of wonky pavement. He’d been facing Regulus, too distracted to notice the uneven ground, and hadn’t even had a chance to brace himself.

“I think I’m- oh shite,” he said as he turned his arm to reveal his entire sleeve had gone bloody. He felt the same warm liquid drip down his chin and realised, he bit into his own lip too.

“My flat’s not too far from here, come on,” he said as he hauled him up.

“No fancy handkerchief to save me now?” he queried, holding a hand over his mouth so as to not alarm passerbyers.

“Seeing as you stole the one I had, no,” he tutted, much more serious now, their previous romantic moment completely forgotten.

Regulus had his hand wrapped around his other arm the entire time as they made quick work of the streets and James was so enthralled he almost forgot he was in pain.

“Of course, this would happen the moment someone finally asks me out,” Regulus muttered to himself, almost as if he’d forgotten he was right there. James bit back a laugh, catching the flash of wry humour in his eyes.

Once they reached what James assumed was Regulus’s building, Regulus fumbled with his keys, managing to unlock the door before hurrying him inside the lift and pressing the buttons with a quiet urgency.

James couldn’t help but marvel at Regulus’ flat when they arrived. It was modern and spacious with large windows with a view over his pocket of the city on one side. He lived alone and it would’ve likely been impossible for him to afford such a place without his family money- how did he even have access to his vaults anymore?

Regulus steered him through the flat, offering him only a glimpse of his bedroom before guiding him into the en suite bathroom and settling him on the closed toilet seat.

With practised hands, Regulus reached under the sink for a first aid kit, then moved in close, standing between James’s open legs. James longed to close the distance, to let his hands slide up along Regulus’s hips, to feel the warmth beneath his jumper, but he held back, focusing instead on rolling up his own sleeves. It was a shame he’d ruined it on his first day wearing it, but he supposed it had served its purpose well.

Though he couldn’t get the sleeve up high enough and he looked up to Regulus who noticed and said, “I suppose you’ll just have to take it off.”

“If you wanted me to take my clothes off, you just had to ask,” James smiled before wincing when the cut in his lip reopened.

“You’re the one who tripped and fell just so you’d get to come over to mine, sounds to me like you’re the conniving one here,” Regulus quipped before gently taking his glasses off and setting them aside while James pulled his jumper off.

He put his glasses back on as quickly as possible, not wanting to miss a second of their closeness and he held his arm up to inspect the damage.

He had a pretty sizable cut running up his forearm and around his elbow and it hurt when he flexed his arm. It wasn’t deep but it was bleeding quite a bit so Regulus was quick with a towel as he ran it under some warm water and began cleaning up his arm.

“You have a lot of scars,” Regulus murmured, his eyes meeting James’s through dark lashes, his gaze lingering.

He brought a hand up to cover himself reflexively, suddenly insecure but Regulus stopped him with a hand over his own, “Don’t.” That one simple word was powerful enough as James lowered his hand, nothing to cover up his scar-covered abdomen from a lifetime of quidditch, duelling, and other accidents.

James waited quietly as Regulus cleaned him up and hissed when he poured alcohol into the cut which wouldn’t make sense because alcohol was for drinking but he remained silent nonetheless, not wanting to question whatever it is muggles did for healing.

Once Regulus had wrapped a thick bandage around the wound, James sighed, “Thank you for this, you really didn’t have to.”

“What and send you walking back home with blood trailing behind you?” he smirked, cleaning the kit up and stowing it away before handing him his jumper. “Do you want anything to drink? Tea?” he asked.

“I should probably head out,” he said, trailing Regulus out of the bathroom and toward the front door. “Wouldn’t want you to get tired of me before our date even happens.”

Regulus leaned against the open door, casting him a look that sent a pleasant shiver down James’s spine. “I don’t think I could get tired of you,” he murmured, voice low.

James felt his breath hitch, but he managed a casual tone. “So… tomorrow night? Seven?”

Regulus nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Seven,” he echoed, holding James’s gaze a beat longer before he finally stepped back, letting him go.

He lingered on the other side of the threshold for a moment longer before nodding once and turning away, heading back as excitement pulled at his lips the entire way home.

____________

“You like one of them don’t you?” Lily smirked, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed.

“No? Why would you say that?” he asked as he looked in the mirror for the hundredth time, checking his hair and if there was anything in his teeth.

“Just an educated guess,” she laughed as she gestured to the whole of him.

He was getting so worked up over this date he was starting to regret ever having asked Regulus out at all- he just wanted everything to be perfect. It was only dinner, nothing too huge which was usually James’ specialty, but he was worried something would go wrong just like it had when he initially asked him.

“It’s hard making friends as an adult,” he huffed instead then levelled Lily with a look, “And are you sure about leaving Harry with Madam Gaultier? She’s rather old.”

Lily shot him an affronted look on Madam Gaultier’s behalf. “I trust her, James. Besides, her daughter will be there too, so she won’t be alone with him. And I think I deserve a night out with friends just like you,” she added with a playful tut before turning away.

She had started making friends with the kids she tutors’ parents, joining their friend groups easily and while some of them were a few years older than Lily, she liked them all quite well and was excited when they asked her to join their book club. He was incredibly happy for her, having felt bad about his newfound friendships and relationships on top of everything else he was trying to figure out, that when she mentioned that their club meeting would be this week to him, he was all for it.

Half an hour later, as he got Harry ready, Lily stepped into the nursery. Her hair fell in soft russet curls, half pinned up to frame her face. She wore a cosy white sweater, a black skirt, and long boots, looking radiant.

“You look beautiful, Lils,” James said, unable to hold back his grin. It had been a while since he’d seen her so genuinely happy.

She looked even happier than she did before her first day of work because she was actually allowing herself to have a bit of fun.

She clutched the book to her chest and hefted the bag up on her shoulder higher, “I hope it goes well,” she breathed.

“I’ve seen you fight death eaters and level entire buildings with a flick of your wand, I have full faith that you’ll be able to handle book club,” he promised encouragingly.

She nodded before coming over to pick Harry up, “Well keep your mobile with you, you remember how to use it yeah? If anything happens, call me.”

“I will,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek before leaving.

They agreed to meet in front of the Cafe and he spotted Regulus, waiting out front, before he saw him and he could see Regulus’ lips moving as he spoke to himself, twisting his hands over and over in front of him, as though he were preparing himself for a big speech. He looked heart wrenchingly nervous so James hurried his pace, eager to put him out of his misery.

When Regulus finally noticed him, his face softened into a smile, and James’s breath caught. He’d always thought Regulus was beautiful, but in the soft glow of evening, he looked ethereal, like he might dissipate into the winter-kissed air if James looked away.

“Ready?” James asked gently, receiving a quick nod before they set off side by side, shoulders brushing as they made their way to the restaurant around the corner.

He fought the urge to reach for Regulus’s hand, to lace their fingers together or throw an arm around his shoulders. He kept reminding himself that he was about four years ahead of their relationship and needed to reel it back in because memories or not, Regulus was skittish, and James couldn’t risk scaring him off now.

They arrived at the Pakistani restaurant James had chosen for tonight and Regulus looked impressed, “How’d you know I liked Pakistani food?”

“An educated guess?” he said, remembering Lily’s words from earlier and stealing them for his own use.

Regulus looked pleasantly surprised and James knew he had scored some points in his book but again, he had the unfair advantage of memories at his side.

The restaurant was nicely decorated, soft, ambient lighting casting a golden hue over the space, highlighting the deep reds and emerald greens of the handwoven rugs that adorn the polished wooden floors. Cosy, low-seated tables dotted the place and it was relatively full but they were lucky enough to chance a table in the corner where they were afforded some privacy.

“Can I admit I’m rather surprised you asked me out tonight?” Regulus asked as he perused the menu.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, it’s only that you always look at me like I’m some sort of axe-murderer,” he stated rather straightforwardly. His face remained open though, his tone light, and James only wished he could speak his truth.

“You’re not going to like what I have to say,” he warned.

This only seemed to pique his curiosity as he leaned in expectantly, a single brow raised as he waited.

“You’re one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met,” he said honestly.

He leaned back, wrinkling his nose. “You’re right—I hated that,” he said, though the blush on his cheeks suggested otherwise.

They ordered drinks and when the waiter came around to take their orders, James ordered for them, already intimately familiar with the menu and dishes available.

“So, you’re from Pakistan?” Regulus asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

James nodded, “My mum is from there but my dad’s English, so I had a mix of both cultures growing up.”

“And what did they think about you moving to Paris?”

A familiar pang echoed through him. “They passed away a while ago. I think that’s part of why I left. Home just… didn’t feel like home anymore.”

Regulus’s face softened, his gaze downcast as he listened. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know what that’s like.”

“I was an only-child too so it felt even more lonely at home. I mean I had my friends and everything but,” he shrugged, “It’s not the same.” He didn’t mean to snap back into Auror mode but he saw an opening and asked, “Do you have any siblings?”

James could practically see the threads of magic that must be coiling in his mind, causing the onset of a migraine as he recoiled in his seat, “No I don’t think I do.”

“I imagine if you had a brother, they’d have a celestial name like yours- something like Sirius maybe,” he huffed, pretending to laugh while watching his face for any sign of recognition.

Right when James uttered the name, Regulus stilled, his eyes locking onto his for a moment and he shifted, “What was that?”

“What?” 

“Sirius?” he said the name like it was foreign on his tongue, like he’d never tasted the word before.

“It’s a star in Canis Major,” he breathed.

James could see the gears whirring in his mind as he sought to put the broken pieces of his mind together before he sighed, dropping his head into his hand, “You’re probably going to think I’m mad after this.”

“After what?”

He breathed deeply, splaying his hands on the table, “As I’m sure you’ve noticed, I have some issues with my memory. 

I don’t remember a lot of my youth, my school or my family- it’s almost like I’ve been alone my whole life. I mean- I can feel things when I think long and hard about it, my forearm sometimes hurts or the scar on my leg that I also don’t know how I got, but I can’t get any of the details right. Sometimes I feel like I just gained consciousness three years ago and everything before that was a dream.” He looked back up at him like he was just now remembering he was there, “Sorry, I just- I wanted to explain why maybe I might have seemed standoffish before.”

“You don’t have to explain but that sounds difficult, have you ever sought treatment? I mean, is it a medical sort of problem?”

He shook his head, “No, I don’t think it is and I don’t know how I can just walk into a hospital and say ‘Help, I’ve lost all my memories, can you give them back please?’ In any case, I wonder if it’s better that way, like maybe fate wants me to forget.”

“Do you believe in fate?”

“Maybe,” he hummed, twirling his straw around in his drink, “I like to believe that there must be an order to all this,” he gestured around. “A reason why we meet the people we do when we do.”

James breathed deeply, “And do you think there was a reason we met?”

A shy smile pulled at his lips, “I mean we’re here now aren’t we?”

The food arrived and James grinned while Regulus looked almost scared, “I can literally feel the hairs in my nose burning off right now,” he said as he stared at the daal makhani.

“That’s how you know it’ll be good,” he said as he waited for Regulus to serve himself first and he took a modest serving of the daal while remaining liberal with the chicken karahi that was arguably spicier than the first dish.

He watched as Regulus tore off a piece of the naan, folding it in his fingers and scooping up the gravy, humming with delight as he chewed before promptly panting and chugging down big gulps of his water, “It hurts so good,” he breathed.

“And this is?” Regulus asked as he eyed the dish James placed in front of him.

“Aloo gosht- potato and lamb stew,” he clarified, “And that bread is called naan, you dip one into the other.”

James had learned the recipe from his mum and invited Regulus over today for the sole purpose of feeding him. At school, they were limited to what the elves offered at mealtimes and while they liked him well enough, he didn’t imagine they’d be happy if he asked to take over their kitchen so he was forced to wait until this summer when Regulus was able to sneak away for a couple hours under the pretence of being with Pandora and her lovely brothers.

“Is it spicy?” he asked cautiously.

“It’s good,” James said in a way of answering and Regulus glared at him, immediately knowing what he was doing but he didn’t refuse to try it, instead looking rather curious and excited.

James sat down beside him and showed him how to prepare a bite, folding a piece of the naan between his fingers before scooping up a bite of lamb. With the perfect bite in hand, he leaned over to Regulus to feed him, his lips brushing over his fingers as he accepted and James watched as the flavours melted on his tongue, his brows lifting and eyes widening as he already started preparing the next bite himself.

“James, this is delicious, how did I not know you could cook?” he awed.

“You don’t pay enough attention to me,” he pretended to pout.

“If only you knew,” he said with a roll of his eyes and a shake of his head. “You amaze me more and more every day y’know that?”

“No, tell me again,” James snickered.

Regulus laughed, his eyes crinkling and cheeks dimpling. James wanted to live in this moment forever.

“You okay?” Regulus asked, closer now as he tried to catch his eye.

“Oh yeah sorry,” he breathed, bringing himself back to the present, taking a sip of his water to wash away the empty feeling inside of him and getting some of the food for himself as well.

“Actually, you look at me two different ways- one is the axe-murderer way, and the other is almost sad. Like I did something to you that you’re just waiting to bring up.”

“I don’t mean to,” he laughed uncomfortably, focusing his attention on anything but Regulus.

“I mean I can admit, it does feel like I knew you once but it could also just be a trick of my memory,” he tried to joke but it didn’t quite land right, like even he didn’t realise what he said until it was already out.

“You do?” he asked, caught on the fact that Regulus felt like he knew him. It was like his memories were just waiting to be unearthed.

“Must be fate,” he winked.

The rest of their dinner passed in a much more lighthearted manner as Regulus spoke to him about what it was like opening the cafe, what he wanted to do when he was younger, and what the best type of cheese was. His answer was camembert obviously.

The past stayed in the past for once as they spoke and James already found himself falling in love with this new Regulus, relearning the old parts of him while rearranging everything he already knew, building him up again without the darkness of his death tainting his every memory.

“I had fun tonight,” Regulus murmured as they found themselves walking along the Seine again, like neither of them wanted the night to end.

“So did I. I hope this doesn’t raise any ethical issues, boss and employee and such,” James joked.

Regulus considered for a bit before agreeing, “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem seeing as I make the rules. Although you have to let me pick dinner next time because there’s a wonderful Chinese restaurant just down the way that you have to try.”

“So there’ll be a next time?” 

“I don’t mean to presume but…?”

The moon hung low and full in the sky behind him but for once, James wasn’t sucked into the past over memories of Remus and their pack, of his old friends and life back in England, not even his guilt with what happened with Regulus all that time ago. He was all too present in this moment, Regulus in front of him, eyes wide and hopeful.

James nodded and Regulus beamed.

As they ambled back home, their arms brushed together and instead of ignoring it this time, Regulus reached over and gripped his hand fully. James hated to break his hold at the end of the night, feeling his loss acutely when he left Regulus at his doorstep.

“Goodnight James,” he breathed as he stepped inside.

“Good night Regulus."

When he got home, he stayed up for Lily and Harry to arrive home which they did an hour later, Harry drooling on her shoulder as she carried him in and James swooped in for the transfer, gentle so as to not wake him up.

“How was it?” he asked.

Lily immediately told him every detail about her evening from the people to the book to the food and he happily listened along, marvelling at the glint in her eye and the way at which she infused excitement into each word after having gone so long without it.

“Oh! I didn’t even ask, how was your night?” she asked before stepping into her room.

James, who was only meant to have a night out with Marc’s friends, just said “It was nice, y’know the usual.”

He was forced to keep Regulus a secret, one that was getting harder to contain with each passing day. The more they settled into Paris, the more James wondered what it would be like to leave it all behind- would he even be able to in the end?

He fell asleep before he could even answer his own question.