so much changed
He kissed his hair, his cheek, his forehead, his lips.
Elation ripped through him so strongly that James forgot everything else but the boy in front of him.
Regulus though, had gone limp in his hands and he pulled back to look at him, his previous gentle smile wiped away so quickly it was like it had never been there at all. “James? Where are we right now?” he asked tentatively.
“You’re in St. Mungo’s love, you got hurt- there was an explosion- in a cafe-,” he said, trying to piece together an actual timeline but he had no idea how much time had passed, how many days he had been gone for.
“A cafe? But- the cave?” he said. His face was scrunched up in concentration, his eyes dazed as though he could see the cave right now. He lifted a hand to his neck, rubbing the sensitive skin there. His fingers came away, obviously, clean but he couldn’t make sense of it. “How long was I out?”
James almost didn’t know how to answer that. Technically, he’s been out for a couple of days, but he’s been out of this reality for a good two and a half years.
And, stupidly, he said, “Just a couple…years.”
“You…” Regulus focused entirely on the speckled linoleum floor and he switched tactics quickly,
“Why don’t I get Healer Mayfield,” he suggested gently but Regulus forcefully latched onto his arm, refusing to let him go.
“Why are you here? And you look…” he scrutinised his face seriously, “Older.”
Right, that was great for the old confidence, knowing he’s aged a good ten years when it had only been about three but it was a very stressful three years.
He was about to speak when Regulus looked down at his own hand on James’ arm and gasped and he looked at that point of contact to see that there was a faded dark mark on his arm, somehow transferred over from when he took on Regulus’ memories as well.
He thought he had simply absorbed so much of Regulus’ memories that it just felt like Regulus was inside of him but he supposed it had gone a bit deeper than that.
Regulus’ scar was still there, that mangled piece of flesh a constant reminder of the Cave, but his dark mark had come back beneath it.
It had somehow split between the two of them, leaving them both with a faded grey echo.
It remained completely frozen though- the magic had been stolen out of it as well.
Regulus ran his thumb over it and looked up at James with tear-soaked eyes, “What did you do?” and his stomach dropped as he wondered, not for the first time, whether he had done the right thing.
____________
He sat in Mayfield’s office, having already dismissed an emotional Kreacher for now, as she got to work on healing him, her eyes narrowed and lips pursed the entire time she worked.
“You could have said something y’know?” she finally said as she snapped one of his fingers back in place.
He winced, “What do you mean?”
She sat back and took off her glasses, rubbing the bridge of her nose, “Look. I don’t know what it is you did and I can’t afford to think too much about it with everything going on but you just snapped about an entire life’s worth of memories back into him, most of them traumatic must I remind you and he has to somehow align those with the memories he created over the past three years. I’ll admit, we were coming to a sort of standstill as to what I could do with what I was given but now,” she sighed heavily, “I don’t know where to go from here. Speaking with him, he sounds alright but you never know what might change.”
“Look, I’m sorry but honestly…I didn’t know if my plan was even going to work so I didn’t think to mention it to you,” he admitted.
“Yeah well,” she rolled her eyes as she healed a burn on the back of his arm.
“Can I ask what happened then? The waiting room was full of people when we got in,” he asked.
Her face creased in concern, “There was a raid in Diagon Alley. It was full-on pandemonium- store fronts shattered and looted, people hexed in the streets, death eaters going against Aurors inside establishments- it was horrible. Some even say You-Know-Who himself was there in the flesh but he escaped before anyone could snatch him.”
James couldn’t wrap his head around it, “Voldemort was there ?”
She cringed at his name but nodded nonetheless, “I’m not sure he’s ever been spotted out but he was there, shot some of the nastiest curses we’ve ever seen and it’s been impossible to get foreign healers to come over and help because they’re afraid of everything that’s been going on and it’s difficult to portkey over patients…it’s horrible.”
His stomach flipped, “When exactly did this happen?”
“About six hours ago maybe,” she answered.
He did some mental math, estimating how long everything took and he wondered if six hours ago was exactly when Azrythar destroyed the horcrux…Could He feel that? Did James indirectly cause this? He would kill himself if he did lest the guilt eat him alive first.
The potential pain of that didn’t even compare to the physical as Mayfield finished working on him, leaving behind only bruises, scrapes, and aches.
“What do we do about Regulus now? Like what are the next steps?” he asked, trying to put them back on track.
He wondered when he might get a break again. So much time has just been spent on one issue to the next to the next. He wanted to go back to a time when he didn’t know what tomorrow held and he didn’t much care because he knew it would be alright.
Mayfield sat back down in her seat behind the desk and stayed quiet for a few long minutes as she quietly rearranged her desk- straightening some parchment, lining up her various quills next to each other, resetting her ink pot and putting it neatly in the right corner of her desk, before finally speaking again.
“I still remember when you first came in here with that little ‘hypothetical’ of yours,” she said with a wistful little smile, “You had me stuck on that for hours and still now, after all this time, I don’t know what the right move is- kind of makes all this Healer training feel pointless.”
She looked tired and weary and he wondered if she, like so many others, just needed someone to vent to and he would dutifully listen for bringing her into all of this in the first place.
She drummed her fingers twice before deciding, “Look. I think Regulus has spent far too much time in the hospital, especially considering he doesn’t even know why he is here. Do you have somewhere you can take him? Somewhere where Lily and your son aren’t- where you two can just be alone ?”
He nodded.
“Take him there and just…talk,” she shrugged with a little curve of her lip, “Talk about what he knows, what you know, just get a feel for things. With his memories all there, as far as we know, I think his main issue will be organising them and that’s where you can come in and I don’t think he’ll experience any more pain as he remembers things which is a positive.”
He considered her words and a defeated sort of laugh broke out of him as he sagged against his chair, “Why not?”
He went back to Regulus’ room and informed him that they’d be ‘going home.’
____________
Getting Regulus into his clothes was their first issue.
“These aren’t my clothes,” he insisted as he held up a pair of denim jeans and a plain black tee shirt.
“They are, I assure you,” James promised.
“Where’s my cloak? I was wearing a-,” he began, then froze, “I- I wasn’t wearing this.” He stammered, “I don’t own this. It’s not even my size, they’re too big.”
“Just try them on,” he said delicately and Regulus did, though with a huff.
Little things like this hadn’t even occurred to James- the fact that Regulus’ pants were bigger than they used to be because he had been so malnourished before- so broken down by stress and lack of food, both voluntarily and involuntary that he was incredibly thin, more than he should’ve been.
Then they had to go home and James was sure to apparate down the street from Grimmauld so that they had some time to walk there but Regulus was having none of it, gripping his hand so hard it started tingling, “James, what the hell are you doing?”
“I need you to just trust me,” he tried, gently moving his hand down to his own, lacing their fingers together.
“My mum will-,” he broke out through clenched teeth.
“Do you trust me?” he asked.
He was almost too scared to hear the answer now. He wondered whether Regulus even considered them still…whatever they were. James hadn’t been able to say ‘I love you’ before because it would’ve been entirely too much but he desperately wished to know if Regulus would say it back now…he didn’t know how much he needed to hear it until he thought about it and it stuck.
But did Regulus even trust him? James had to work tirelessly just to receive that from him the first time and now he didn’t know whether he had restored that or broken it permanently.
Regulus, for all that he had gone through, for all of his confusion and fear and timidity at this changed world around him, still nodded without reservation, “Of course I do.”
He exhaled a sigh of relief, “C’mon then.”
When they walked in the front door, James automatically detected the change in Regulus’ breathing, they way it picked up in pace and pitch. His entire body had gone rigid and he scanned the foyer like Walburga or Orion would jump out at him with their wands drawn.
Right on schedule, “Blood traitors in the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black!” she screeched.
Regulus instantly jumped, turning around to make for the door but James held firm and urged him along.
“James, are you fucking mad she’s-.”
The words died in his mouth as he gazed upon her portrait, seething within its frame.
And miraculously, Walburga had gone silent too as she spotted Regulus walk in behind him.
The two of them seemingly didn’t have anything to say to the other as they just stared wide-eyed at one another like neither of them had been expecting this and clearly, neither of them had.
She broke the silence first, “Regulus.” Her voice had actually gone a bit…soft.
“What is this?” Regulus asked James though he didn’t dare tear his eyes away from his mother.
“She’s dead Reg. She died about two years ago…I imagine she had this portrait made some time around then,” he answered quietly. Kreacher had appeared in the doorway as well, watching the interaction silently and James felt like he had intruded on something.
“I waited for you for so so long,” she urged, her hand coming up to rest against the paint’s surface like she could break through it and to him.
James was rather uncomfortable with this turn of behavior- it felt so uncharacteristic for her, he wondered if Kreacher had some nicer portrait of her commissioned without them knowing.
“I…I died,” Regulus said plainly, his jaw set and his eyes had already begun shining a bit, his throat bobbing as the words landed.
Walburga stiltedly nodded, “Yes. I am aware. As did I. I couldn’t- I didn’t-,” she shook her head. “After you died for him, I-”
“I didn’t die for him, I died because of him,” Regulus corrected her swiftly.
She paused mid-speech, “What do you mean?”
“I betrayed Voldemort, I did not die in support of him but in rebellion,” he clarified, his dark brows creasing.
James was struck with how similar she really looked to her children.
Sirius had a more masculine face and James thought he looked a lot like Orion most of the time, especially the older he grew, but Regulus’ face remained aristocratic and elegant, retaining a lot of his mother’s looks and now, as they faced one another, he couldn’t help but balk at the similarities. He couldn’t imagine what it must be like to love and hate your own face when it’s staring right back at you.
“In rebellion ?” she repeated as though she’d never heard of that word before.
Regulus nodded.
She continued staring for a minute longer, her hands anxiously twisting the thick black material of her skirt before she shut her curtains of her own accord, remaining silent, effectively ending their conversation there.
“She’s never done that before,” James said into the quiet room.
“She was never good at conceding defeat,” Regulus said before looking around, turning on his heel slowly to take it in, “How did she do it?”
“What?”
“How did she die?”
James cleared his throat, he’d found out the truth from Dumbledore rather than the papers, “She killed herself overdosing on sleeping potion. Aurors found her a few days later alone.”
He nodded, deciding not to respond, then he twitched a bit, “Where’s Sirius?”
It’s been so long since he said his name with such recognition, he wanted to cry, “Sirius is…he’s somewhere right now I’m sure.”
Again, he was given a look of confusion.
He gently encircled Regulus’ wrist and sat him down in the newly restored seating room, “We need to talk. It’s not going to be easy or simple or make a whole lot of sense but I’m going to do my best okay?”
They were sitting so close their knees touched and Regulus placed a tentative hand on James’ knee, looking up at him through his lashes, “James?”
“Hm?”
He took a deep breath, “I’m really scared.”
His heart clenched, “Don’t be.” But he knew how ridiculous it sounded as it came out. He felt like he was witnessing Regulus waking up for the first time after the cave, completely without his memories, confused and disoriented, and his heart broke because James wasn’t there for him back then- he was entirely on his own.
He vowed to himself that he was going to get Regulus through this, no matter what.
He deserved to know the truth and he just hoped they were strong enough to withstand it.
____________
“I can remember it if I really try hard enough,” Regulus murmured. “I have everything before, I mean I- I know who I am, but this person you’re talking about- I don’t know if I know who he is,” Regulus stiltedly explained, again talking about himself as two separate entities.
“That’s okay,” James nodded, “That’s normal.”
“But even throughout all that, there’s one thing I was never unsure about.”
“What’s that?”
Regulus leaned in close, his warm hand pressed against the swell of James’ cheek, “ You.”
At his blank expression, he smiled, “Le Soleil d’Or- what do you think that’s about?” He huffed, leaning his forehead against his, his voice in utter disbelief, “It’s always been about you James. Everything I do, my very being is centered on you.”
James, after everything, finally felt an ounce of gratification for it. This quiet moment with Regulus, this single healing moment made everything else slip away, and he got misty eyed, “You have no idea how much I missed you Regulus…when the papers reported you dead- when you left-,” his throat closed around the words.
Regulus’ voice was high, barely making it around the matching lump in his throat, “I did it for you. I went into the cave and I didn’t write you a letter because I was a damned coward but how could I? How could I leave you? I only did it to help you live- to free everyone from- from-.”
“Shh,” James quieted him, not wanting His name to sully this juncture in time. “I know you did, I know, but my gods Regulus, I wanted to die.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered. “And in Paris, you didn’t, you didn’t leave me? He leaned back a bit, tears clinging to his dark lashes, “Why didn’t you leave me there? Surely it wasn’t worth the trouble.”
James cradled his face in his hands, “How can you say that? Think that? You are woven into the very fibre of my being, there is no me without you. I spent every minute without you, thinking of you, and when you came back- gods, there was no way you were getting rid of me.”
“You know I loved you then don’t you?” he cried, “I didn’t say it but I knew it from the moment I saw you in the shop. I didn’t understand it but- I felt it.”
“I never stopped loving you.”
When Regulus kissed him, time stopped, locking them in this crystalline moment together.
“I don’t know what I did to get so lucky,” Regulus whispered. “To get this second chance with you, to be in my home with you, no one breathing down my neck and being completely and utterly free.”
“You sacrificed a lot to be here,” James added, refusing to discard that fact.
Kreacher came in then bearing a simple dinner because James refused to allow him to come up with some grand buffet style meal when right now they needed something to simply fill their stomach- the time for luxuries would come in due time.
James was acutely aware they were like existing on borrowed time because at some point, something is going to have to give.
They ate their dinner quickly, most of the time spent by Kreacher and Regulus catching up and while a few tears were shed, it was heartwarming to see Kreacher’s undying love and devotion for Regulus being returned in real time. Kreacher could hardly stand Regulus’ effusive praise and appreciation for welcoming James in as well, despite however crabby he was at the start, and they all had a good laugh when Kreacher stomped out of the room, tears still streaming down his cheeks.
When they washed up, they sat, unsure of what to do or where to go.
Grimmauld was still Grimmauld at the end of the day and James didn’t know where Regulus would be most comfortable.
“The guest room has been cleared out, on the third floor, if you want to sleep there?” James suggested and Regulus nodded.
“I’ll probably just sleep down here,” he decided, looking at the sofa.
Regulus nodded and walked out, before walking right back in, “Come up with me?”
“Are you sure?”
His eyes, wide and hopeful, bore into him, “I can’t leave you yet. And this house- the rooms,” he stubbornly shook his head as though physically clearing away the memories, “I need you.”
James was on his feet in an instant, trailing after him up the stairs, the sconces winking out with each ascending step. They bypassed the second floor entirely and went up to the third floor, the plain nondescript guest room welcoming them with its’ baby blue sheets and nature paintings. The windows didn’t have any bars on them but the faint shimmer rippling on their surface made it clear that they couldn’t be opened or tampered with in any way. James added that on his list of things to fix in this house.
Kreacher had left clothes for them both and when they had both changed in the toilet and made it into bed, the only intimacy James yearned for was Regulus’ presence.
He made it into bed first and Regulus quietly slipped in beside him and they faced each other despite the total darkness. James waved his wand and the drapes slipped back open ever so slightly, a sliver of light from outside cutting across their bed, illuminating their barest features.
James didn’t dare move but welcomed Regulus when he scooted in closer, their legs tangled around each other, sharing warmth.
“I used to dream about this,” he murmured.
“Hm?”
Regulus nuzzled deeper into the pillow, “Being here in this house, with you. On especially cold nights, I’d fall asleep thinking about this.”
“Atleast we could make one of your dreams come true,” James replied, pressing a kiss to his forehead and shutting his eyes- finally, getting some rest for the first time since starting this harebrained but successful mission of his.
He was out in less than a second.
____________
James woke up instantly to the sounds of Regulus whimpering beside him.
He had become a light sleeper ever since Harry was born, waking up every time he fussed or cried, so it didn’t take much for Regulus to startle him awake.
Tears spilled from eyes that were wrenched shut, his hands were curled in tight fists and his face was pressed into the pillow as he fought some unforeseen force.
James instantly pulled him into his arms, holding on tight, whispering in his ear, “You’re okay, you’re okay,” He remembered Regulus’ last fit in the hospital and dreaded something like that repeating.
He tucked Regulus into the curve of his body, his head under his chin, and James could smell the standard issue soap the hospital used and he missed his usual scent. He craved familiarity and right now they were both lost.
Regulus thankfully didn’t wake up, he just calmed in his arms and instead of digging his own fingers into his palms, he wrapped them around James’ shirt, clinging onto him tightly as though he would disappear.
James didn’t let go for the rest of the night.
____________
Regulus stared at Sirius from across the Great Hall.
He was sat, face downcast, completely separate from James, Remus, and Peter, the girls acting like a buffer between them as he continuously buttered but never took a bite of his burnt toast.
It was like a switch had flipped overnight and Sirius looked nothing like the carefree, happy boy he had become accustomed to seeing every mealtime.
When Potions came around, Sirius sat alone in the row of empty tables in the back, as far away from them as possible and when he looked to James, he sat sour-faced and pensive, his eyes never straying from the window. His every muscle was tense, his face firm and set, and his friends all wore identical looks of misery and pain.
That evening, he was up in the Astronomy Tower, filling in his star chart when Sirius came up the spire steps.
He and Sirius hadn’t been alone together since he left home last summer. He didn’t know what to expect-
“Reg,” Sirius muttered. He didn’t know how Sirius knew he’d be up here and was startled by the sound of his name spilling from his lips after months of radio-silence.
“What?” he replied evenly, not looking up at him.
“Reg,” he repeated, more urgently this time.
He stayed silent- waiting.
“Gods,” he said, “Can you just look at me, please.” His voice broke and that caught his attention and when he looked up, he could see tears pooling in his blood shot eyes. He looked haggard as he fidgeted with his hands.
“What happened?” He asked, hating that he cared.
“I need- I know mum disowned me or- or- whatever but I-,” he took a deep breath as he shut his eyes, the words sounding painful on their way out, “Do you think she’d let me come home for Christmas?”
Out of all the things Sirius could’ve said, this was the one thing Regulus never would’ve expected. He slowly set his quill down and eyed him, “Why would you do that?”
“I can’t go back to the Potters,” he said, shaking his head vigorously, “I-” he huffed a pitiful little laugh, “I fucked up Reg, I did what I always do and I fucked up.”
Regulus didn’t know what to say but he could feel already anger brewing, hot and desperate inside of him. He didn’t want to come back home for him but because he had done something wrong and knew he wouldn’t be accepted back. Coming home for him was simply a last resort.
“You can’t come back,” he said lowly.
Sirius looked genuinely devastated which was hard to believe considering it’s Grimmauld they were talking about.
“What?” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“You can’t come back,” he repeated like he was being purposefully dense. “You’re not a Black anymore- you chose your side and now you need to deal with the consequences.”
“But I have nowhere else to go,” he whimpered like a beaten up dog.
Regulus’ heart squeezed but he didn’t know how to treat Sirius with anything other than ire.
“You’ll have to sort yourself out,” he said, picking up his quill and looking away.
It was only when he heard Sirius’ retreating footsteps that he snapped his quill and dropped his head in his hands.
Regulus woke with old guilt lodged in his chest and a chill sweeping down his spine.
____________
Regulus was quiet the following morning, choosing to sit curled up in a chair in the Library staring out at the cloudy London skyline. He drank tea for breakfast and was entirely content to sit there and do nothing all day while James felt like he was overflowing with energy.
He was unsure how Regulus was holding up- whether this stillness meant he was calm or whether he was slowly losing his mind and couldn’t vocalise it.
So he waited with bated breath, pretending to read, until he spoke.
“What is Voldemort up to then?” he suddenly asked into the weighted silence.
“Er… I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted. “It’s a lot of the same- attacks, raids, that sort of thing.”
“And Dumbledore hasn’t done anything?”
“No, the Order sort of just…hides away, pretending to be useful.”
A moment passed.
“He must know then,” Regulus decided cryptically.
“Know what?”
He didn’t answer.
He was still in his pyjamas and as James continued to gaze upon him, a pang of sadness struck him because the Regulus of before, the carefree one whose only focus was that cafe of his, was gone. Regulus was back and trapped in his own mind.
“I think I’m going to go to Paris today,” he said instead.
“Why?” Regulus asked.
He put his book aside, “Well…I can’t just pick up and leave. Lily and Harry are there.”
Regulus nodded slowly, looking back outside, “Don’t let me keep you.”
James felt like he had already said or done something wrong and the day hardly started.
“Reg, is everything okay?”
“Yes, everything is perfectly okay.”
James sighed deeply and Regulus’ head whipped around to him like it was an offense, eyes already narrowed, “ Go. ”
“Not until we talk about whatever this is,” he gestured between the two of them.
Regulus, like an animal cornered, reared up in his chair, “There’s nothing to talk about. I want to be alone now, leave.”
“Clearly I’ve done something to upset you so I want to know what it is.”
His lips were downturned, the sight of it harsh, “Your wife and son must be missing you.”
“Is that what this is about? Harry and Lily?”
Thunder boomed outside, “Don’t make me say it,” he grumbled, turning away.
“Say what?” He shouldn’t have asked- he knew this was going to happen and still it hurt, deeply.
“You know what, fine, yes I am upset about ‘Harry and Lily.’ Is that what you wanted to hear?”
“You don’t have to be,” he reasoned gently, leaning closer to him, “It all happened after you…left.”
“I still have a right to feel upset.”
James didn’t think so but he didn’t voice it.
“Where are my friends?” he asked, abandoning the previous topic entirely. James wanted to keep talking but the withering look on his face stopped him. “You spoke to Evan and Pandora lives in some random field, where are the others?”
James actually didn’t know, “Well Barty is with Evan but I’m not sure what he does really…Evan made it sound like he’s a bit unstable actually.”
“And Cas?”
A pit formed in his stomach as a box sprung open in his mind- the box where he kept every single person that had died tucked neatly away. It had been rattling ever since Regulus snuck out of there and now it had burst under the weight of his question.
He didn’t know how to say it gently, what the right way to go about this actually was, “She’s gone Reg.”
He went unnaturally still then, the shadows casting shadows over his face. He clenched the armrests, “What do you mean?”
James was surprised to find himself getting emotional too- it had just been so long since he’d had to face these emotions that the wound still felt fresh because with Dorcas also came Marlene and he had to clench his teeth to keep from falling apart.
He told Regulus what happened to Marlene and what Dorcas had done in the aftermath. How she had died from Voldemort’s wand and left right at the doorstep of one of their safehouses, mangled and irrefutably gone.
Regulus had already begun crying and he didn’t even bother to wipe the tears away.
“Who else?”
James caught on and he listed everyone that had died in this war.
“...And my parents.”
Regulus’ eyes snapped up to him, “What?” he looked guilty for even forgetting to ask.
James explained what had happened.
Regulus scrubbed at his face, “So fucking pointless.”
“What was?”
“All of it,” he cried out, frustratedly, throwing his hands in the air. “I thought- I thought with what I did, I might be able to change something and they all died anyways.” He ground his fist into the side of his head, “And I almost lost you too and what would it all have been for?”
James didn’t know what to do or say to make it better- to ease the pain he felt. Silence stretched like a chasm between them before Regulus gave in, the air loosing from his body, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it I just… so much changed without me. I mean, I don’t even get to grieve what I lost because what good will it do two, three years later?”
He looked back outside, finger tapping absently against the shimmering barrier that covered it.
“I’m sorry,” he said because sometimes, an apology is better than a platitude, and Regulus offered him a grateful look instead.
James picked up his book again but all he could focus on what the fact that they couldn’t hide out here forever. He needed to go home again, needed to face Lily and her questions, needed to go to the cafe and pretend to live a normal life in Regulus’ absence, needed to get some more updates on what was happening in the Wizarding world, needed to somehow get out of this damned house and figure out how to function like a normal member of society rather than someone who had practically resurrected their dead boyfriend.
He started to wonder whether Azrythar frying him to a crisp might have actually been a mercy.