about the horcruxes
He went to his own flat, changed his clothes, looked as presentable as possible, and walked over to Lily’s flat, knocking twice on the door and hoping she was home.
He was only away for three days so realistically, the amount of time he was gone for wasn’t really a problem, it was more so what he was doing that he was scared to tell Lily about.
James had also decided that telling her the truth was the best course of action because really, at this point, he realised he might as well. There was nothing she could do now, after the fact, and it had all turned out okay so she might yell at him and call him an idiot but it would blow over like it always had.
She opened the door looking a bit frenzied and her eyes went wide when they met his, “James!” Her voice was high and squeaky as her hand clenched on the doorframe.
“Lils, is everything okay?” he asked slowly.
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” she nodded though she didn’t make a move to open the door any further, her head so far the only part of her visible.
“Can I come in? We have to talk and I’ve been missing Harry,” he said with barely restrained pain because throughout everything, Harry was at the top of his priority list.
His actions were at odds with that sentiment but it was unquestionably true. He longed to see Harry’s dark curls and ridiculous glasses and hear his laugh again.
“Harry’s not here right now,” she laughed a bit hysterically.
“Where’s…”
His voice died when he heard someone singing.
He loudly whispered, “Is there someone in there with you right now?”
Her face turned as red as her hair as she floundered, trying to come up with an answer and she just held the door open wider for him and turned away. He was grinning so wide his face hurt.
The person in question was a woman, standing at the kitchen counter, pouring hot water into a mug. She turned around at their arrival and smiled and it took James a moment to place her.
“Clara,” he smiled. He’d met her when he went to the bar with Marc and his friends and though they hadn’t had much of a chance to talk then, he remembered her as being kind. She granted him that characteristic uneven smirk,
“James,” she didn’t look the least bit stunned, “Would you like a cup?” She moved naturally as though it were her own house.
“Sure, thanks,” he said and plopped right down at Lily’s sofa, grinning at her while she just sat in a chair, her face in her hands, likely begging for this to be over.
Clara handed them both a mug and said with a nod, “Well I’ll be off.” She bent down and pressed a kiss to Lily’s lips before sauntering out the door, leaving her slack-jawed at her audacity. The French truly held none of the characteristic British shame.
“Well looks like you’ve been having fun without me,” he quipped with a raised brow.
Lily just took a sip of her tea, wincing when it burned her mouth, “Look, I stopped by the cafe yesterday and saw Marc. We got to chatting and he invited me to go out with him and his friends- probably because you weren’t here. Anyways, I went, I don’t know why , and then I saw Clara there and then Harry was already with Gaultier and- ugh , I don’t know what happened.”
James smiled, “Marc’s been wanting to get to know you, it wasn’t some sort of pity invite and I’m glad you went, you deserve to have some fun.”
“I do have fun,” she said defensively, setting down her mug and folding up in her chair, tying her hair up in a bun that resembled a bird. “Anyways, if we talk about this any more, I think my face will explode, tell me what you’ve been up to.”
He took a stealing breath, “Okay do you want the long or short version?”
“Long of course,” she replied.
“Good or bad news first- well actually, they’re the same.”
A little line formed between her brows “Should I be worried?”
“No, no- well…basically what happened is that I…”
____________
By the end of the story, Lily was red in the face and James could practically feel the magic rolling off of her in waves.
“Lils, you kind of look like Azrythar right now,” he said and that was clearly not the right thing to say because her nostrils flared even wider.
She was stood up already, having paced for the length of his story, and she had gone from pointing at him to stopping and doing it again as she probably thought of all the different things she could yell at him for if only she could find out what order to do it in.
“James,” she finally said.
“Lils,” he replied.
“You are quite possibly the stupidest person to ever exist ,” she shouted the last part. “I would list out all the ways in which you are an absolute idiot but we would be dead before the list was even finished . Harry will go on and have grandkids and I will still be here, wasting breath, telling you how fucking dumb you are to do what you did. And you've made me look like an absolute dunderhead for telling you about the dragon in the first place."
Right.
“If I even got started, you would have wished that dragon burnt you into a barbecue crisp before you had to face me because I could unleash all seven hells on you.”
He nodded.
She dropped into the chair, “But we have the rest of our lives for me to yell at you and I really just need to hold you right now because Harry almost- no- we almost-,” she didn’t even finish as she choked up on the words and he quickly stood up to meet her halfway, wrapping her up in the tightest hug he could possibly muster.
He was so incredibly grateful for her and her fortitude, for her unwavering support, for being the best mother and life partner one could ever ask for.
She smelled like lilies and licorice and he just breathed in her scent feeling like they were back at Hogwarts. They may be old and worn and weary but precious moments like this made him feel invigorated.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her hair.
“Now,” she said, pulling away, opening a drawer and this time pulling out a jar of chocolate mints, “Tell me all about Regulus and what you did to screw with his head this time.”
____________
When he arrived back home, he found Regulus and Kreacher in a stand off by the kitchen, both of them upset and neither of them backing down.
“What’s going on?” he asked, dropping a bouquet of flowers and some pastries he’d picked up on the counter.
“Master Regulus is going back, James is being needing to stop him!” Kreacher cried out.
“Kreacher, you don’t understand what I’m saying ,” he huffed, throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.
“He is wanting to be dealing with horcruxes again,” he screeched, tattling on Regulus like James was the parent here.
James instantly bristled, “Reg, what is he talking about?”
Regulus loosed an annoyed breath and while James was thrilled he wasn’t practically catatonic anymore, just hearing the word horcrux made him upset so he wished they weren’t having this conversation right now.
“There’s more horcruxes James,” he sighed, letting the words settle like a weight between them.
His vision blackened at the edges as he held onto the counter for support, feeling like his knees would give out. He thought about the locket and the darkness from it, of Azrythar seething at the sight of it before setting it ablaze, of that godsdamned cave he had to fight to survive, and now, hearing that there were more , made him want to scream.
“How many?” he broke out.
Regulus sighed as he considered his words, “By my guess, there’s four more.”
James choked on his own breath.
“There’s a family heirloom, Helga Hufflepuff’s cup, Rowena Ravenclaw’s diadem, and a diary of some sort,” he listed off mechanically, producing a piece of parchment and handing it over to him. “Kreacher showed me the research you did and it was thorough, but I had this extra bit hidden.”
James read it and it was just as messy as Regulus’ other works but he had those four items circled in a list of about twenty other random magical objects, “How do you know?”
Regulus shrugged, “Trial and error, asking the right questions, and being among some of the objects myself.”
Hopelessness iced his veins as he thought to how Voldemort had fucking got them by the godsdamned balls.
James was an optimist, to a fault at some times, but in the face of multiple horcruxes- he didn’t see a way out for any of them.
Regulus’ face filled his line of sight, “James,” he murmured, “Listen to me,” he ordered.
“I can't,” he whimpered helplessly.
“ We don’t have to do anything,” he said clearly. “I need to speak with Dumbledore.”
____________
Dumbledore was on the doorstep the following morning after James had a chance to calm down and talk to Regulus about it, ending up on the floor with him as they parsed through everything in a sensible and calm manner.
When James pulled open the door, he had to atleast credit the old wizard for looking more rough and haggard compared to the last time he saw him. Even if The Order wasn’t doing anything of substance, it was nice to know that he atleast looked like they did.
“James,” Dumbledore greeted, eyeing the house behind him before stepping inside at James’ silent gesture. “I must admit, I was rather surprised to receive your invitation for tea. Here, of all places.”
“Well, I consider this a sort of home now,” James said, motioning him toward the Receiving Room.
Dumbledore didn’t reply, but his brows lifted ever so slightly as he settled into one of the chairs, his sky-blue robes flowing around him. He leaned back, peering over his spectacles with silent expectation.
James remained standing. “While the rest of you have been living your lives as usual, I’ve been… busy. Actually, it’s better if I just show you.”
He turned toward the doorway and right on cue, Regulus stepped into the room.
He looked every inch the pureblood heir: black tailored trousers, immaculate robes, long hair slicked back. He seemed more alert today- the effects of medicine and a hearty breakfast. James’ breath hitched — he was always struck by how effortlessly Regulus could shift between the aloof noble and the warm, café-owning man he’d come to know.
“Albus,” Regulus said stiffly, taking the seat opposite.
James sat as well, eyes flicking to Dumbledore just in time to catch the genuine shock that overtook the older man’s face. For someone who prided himself on knowing everything, seeing Regulus Black alive had to be a jarring blow.
“My gods,” Dumbledore whispered, scanning him as though searching for glamours. “Regulus,” he breathed, like saying the name could make it real.
“Pleasure to see you again after all this time,” Regulus replied, voice clipped. There was a thread of anxiety running through it, likely invisible to Dumbledore, but not to James. He knew Regulus too well not to notice the rigid spine, the tight jaw.
“You’ll forgive my absence. I was… otherwise occupied.”
“You were confirmed dead by multiple sources,” Dumbledore pressed, eyes narrowing before flicking toward James. “You didn’t- necromancy-?”
“Merlin, Albus,” James snapped. “Of course not.”
“Your sources were Death Eaters,” Regulus said dryly. “Not exactly pillars of truth. I was ‘indisposed’ by Voldemort, had my memories tampered with. James helped restore them. And imagine my surprise when I came to and the war wasn’t over.”
Dumbledore bristled. “Regulus, I don’t expect you to understand the complexities- Voldemort is not an easy man to track, and circumstances-.”
“I know you know about the horcruxes.”
The words landed heavy.
Dumbledore let out a quiet, disbelieving laugh. “Then I suppose we can speak more plainly.”
“Lucky for you,” Regulus said with a bitter smile, “I’ve already done most of the work.”
He listed them- the cursed artifacts, one by one, while Dumbledore listened intently, gears visibly turning behind those sharp eyes. As Regulus laid out his reasoning and discoveries, James sat back, letting his gaze drift to the patterned carpet, determined to simply sit this one out.
Kreacher arrived with tea, silently pouring each cup to taste before vanishing. He shot a wary look toward Dumbledore, clearly unhappy about the stranger’s presence in their home.
“Even if your theory is correct,” Dumbledore finally said, “Horcruxes can’t be destroyed. They’re-.”
“Wrong,” Regulus interrupted. “James already destroyed one.”
Dumbledore turned to him, stunned.
“Dragonfire,” James said with a sigh, meeting his gaze. “That did it.”
“Dragonfire?” Dumbledore repeated, incredulous.
“Fiendfyre will work too,” James added. “And you’re probably the only person alive who can wield it without dying.”
Dumbledore steepled his fingers under his chin. “You’ve given me much to think about.”
James and Regulus exchanged a look but remained silent.
“How did this even happen?” Dumbledore asked once he'd finished his tea. “James, how did you find him?”
James hesitated, then simply reached over and took Regulus’ hand in his own.
Dumbledore’s eyes dropped to their joined hands. He gave a single nod of understanding before standing to leave.
“We’d appreciate it if you didn’t mention this to anyone just yet,” James said softly once he'd walked him to the door.
“Of course, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore replied, and with that, he swept away down the path, and with him, the future of their world.
____________
James had spent the rest of the day restlessly pacing the back garden.
All of their time rekindling old memories had lit a fire in James.
He wanted to go home. Not to his flat in Paris or stay here in Grimmauld but home , the one he grew up running the corridors in and learning how to walk and run and fly.
He knew Sirius and Remus still inhabited the manor for the most part but he didn’t think Regulus was ready to face them yet. As of right now, his mere existence was a threat to Voldemort so the less people that knew the better, for now . In any case, he missed it with a bone-deep ache.
“What is it, then?” Regulus asked from the doorway, arms folded, gaze curious.
James turned, blinking at the sky now tinged in warm hues of orange and pink. He hadn’t even realised how late it had gotten.
“What?”
“You’ve paced a trench into the ground. What’s eating at you now?”
“It’s nothing,” he waved a hand, brushing it off. Regulus was the main priority, not James, he didn’t need a bout of nostalgia to take precedence over everything else they had going on.
Regulus stepped out beside him, shivering slightly as the evening chill sank in. James realised with a small start that he hadn’t seen him outside in days. The dying light painted his face in gold, softening the sharp lines, washing away the frost he’d worn in front of Dumbledore. He looked younger. Lighter.
He wrapped his arms around James’ neck, practically hanging off of him, “Whatever it is, I want to know,” he murmured. “I can handle it.”
James’ hands naturally settled on his hips, “Of course you can. It’s just… unimportant.”
Regulus only raised an eyebrow, patient and silent.
James exhaled. “I’ve been thinking about visiting home. Potter Manor.”
“Then let’s go,” Regulus said at once, as though it were obvious.
James smiled wryly. “It’s not that simple. It’s risky.”
Regulus tilted his head, a crooked smile playing on his lips. “Everything we do is risky. Can’t imagine this is the most dangerous thing on our list.”
James let out a soft laugh, fingers tightening on the warm skin just above Regulus’ waistband. He missed this- the weight of him, the quiet steadiness. “We can think about it,” he murmured. Then hesitated. “But first… what do you say about meeting Lily and Harry?”
Regulus stilled.
His expression dimmed just slightly, lips turning down- not in anger, but hesitation. James had to fight the urge to plead. The very thought of having to choose, Regulus or Harry, made his chest ache. Because he couldn’t. He wouldn’t. Harry was his son. His world. But Regulus…
Regulus held his gaze for a long moment, then let out a sigh. “I’m not angry with you for them, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Evan’s words from the bar came back to him. He was so sure that Regulus would’ve been happy for him and wouldn’t hate him for what he’d done but James couldn’t tell whether he was being genuine or just trying to soothe his guilty conscience.
“It’s just…” Regulus trailed off, fingers curling over his heart. “It’s hard to imagine the life you built without me. You’re a father, James. You lived a whole life. And I… I still feel eighteen. Like everything that came after was a strange dream I haven’t woken from.” He smiled faintly, tired and self-aware. “When I went into that cave, I think I forgot that just because my life ended, everyone else’s wouldn’t. A rather vain notion, in hindsight.”
James clasped Regulus’ hand, holding it to him, “I want you to be a part of my family Regulus, all of us , together .”
Regulus leaned up on his toes and kissed him, his lips sweet with sugar, “Okay, I'll see them."
James smiled against his lips, kissing him again. When Regulus jumped into his arms, he caught him without hesitation, carrying him inside with ease and lowering him gently onto the sofa. He climbed over him, kissing him deeper, fingers threading through his hair until Regulus’ hands began to wander, tugging him closer.
James pulled back slightly, frowning. “Wait-.”
Regulus looked up at him, concern flickering, “What’s wrong?”
James flushed. “It’s just… we haven’t since… well, before everything.”
Regulus’ lips curled into something wicked. “Which is exactly why we’re long overdue.”
He tugged James down by the collar, and James didn’t resist- not when Regulus was looking at him like that, not when he had no desire to be anywhere else in the world but here, with him.
____________
Regulus and he walked hand in hand through the streets of Paris the following day and he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face as he greeted shopworkers in French and spoke to children and the elderly alike, making small talk about nothing at all.
James had gotten a bit better at his French and could sort of understand what he was saying but the minute a conversation exceeded past pleasantries, James was lost all over again.
“I can’t believe I lived here,” Regulus said breathlessly. “I mean of course I remember it but I just have a sort of different awareness about it now.”
“I can’t believe it either. You had it going really well for yourself,” James agreed and they stopped in front of the shop. “Here she is.”
“Wow,” he said, grinning, “I was so proud of this cafe, still am really, just haven’t had much time to think about it lately.”
“Do you ever think about…what you want to do it with it now…well now that you have your memories back and all?” he asked gently, almost afraid of what he’d say.
“Well I can’t give it up now that we have the ‘Prongs special’ now can I?”
They broke out into laughter as they walked inside and the familiar scent of espresso and books greeted him like a hug.
Marc was reliably behind the counter as always and he grinned when he saw them, “James!” he customarily greeted him, looping around to meet them at the door, “Boss,” he said, “You’re both back are you?”
“We are,” James smiled. “We’ll be back to work soon.”
“Good because I was starting to wonder if you forgot you worked here,” he chided before getting back to work on making drinks for the two of them as usual.
It was hilarious to think that his and Regulus’ worlds had flipped over on themselves while Marc was just going through the motions of his usual life, oblivious to it all.
They continued making small talk, James fabricating stories about their trip while Regulus escaped to his office to catch up on everything he’d missed while gone because bills still needed to be paid and the store needed to remain stocked.
Marc had whipped up simple iced vanilla lattes for the two of them and he’d made sure to ask how things were going with Bellamy and his red face and embarrassed smile were answer enough that things were going swimmingly between them.
Lily made it in by then with a very happy Harry in tow and Marc slid over a Prongs Special to her, “How are you?”
“Good, thanks,” she smiled, getting to work on her drink.
“Clara tells me you had fun at the bar and even more fun after.”
Lily choked on her drink as James thumped her back and she sent them both murderous looks.
James led them to his favourite little section by the windows with the cushions and instantly scooped Harry into his arms, peppering his chubby cheeks with kisses and tickling him until he was nothing but a ball of laughter. He missed his son so much it hurt and his heart was only just mending itself.
When he looked up, Regulus was already there, watching them, a scared smile on his face as well.
Lily looked up at him with a bright grin and he smiled right back at her, “Lily.”
They’d met before and now having his memories didn’t change a single thing between them. He and Lily never had any problems with each other besides maybe an odd sort of residual blowover from both of their relationships with James but now, they were on even footing and a familiar face was a friend in these desperate times.
Regulus folded himself up by her and looked at Harry like he was more of a bomb than a baby.
“I had such a big knot on the back of my head that day I slipped on his toy car,” Regulus suddenly said and Lily gaped while James turned red with embarrassment, remembering Regulus slipping and falling backwards while Marc returned Harry’s toy car to him.
Conversation came easily to them then as they rehashed what James had been up to and how Regulus was doing now that his memories were back.
It was odd because while all of his old memories were intact, all the ones he’d made in the lapse of time between then and now were fuzzy. Regulus described it as looking into a pensieve if he tried to remember something, feeling there but not, real but hazy all at once.
He gently played with Harry but he hadn’t quite developed a child-like imagination yet while Harry imagined his toy trucks to be racing on a track with wild twists and turns, Regulus explained how it wasn’t possible for a car to flip three times in the air and still land perfectly intact. They both laughed then as they tried to see how many times they could get a car to flip in the air, making it into a bit of a challenge.
They spent a couple of hours like that and James finally asked Lily, “It’s starting to look like this war might actually have an end to it and with that being said and done…what should we do?”
Lily sighed, “I’ve been thinking about that since you came back home,” she admitted. “But let’s see this through, then we can figure all this mess out.”
James nodded, turning back to join Regulus and Harry in the fun, remembering to learn how to live in the present rather than losing himself in things he couldn’t control.
____________
J,
I trust this note finds you in good health and high spirits. I’ve been mulling over our last discussion—it was, as ever, delightfully provocative.
I write with news: our old acquaintance has managed to extricate himself from his rather secure lodgings. It seems he’s seeking alternative accommodations, though I suspect the company he prefers may not have changed much.
Do tread carefully. The shadows he’s fond of are never far behind.
Yours,
Brian.