Friday 7th July 1978 pt.3
Sirius’ Pov
Once the fight is finally over, Sirius doesn’t exactly have time to go chat it all over with his friends.
The real ones, the one with the snake cufflinks, the ones he was fighting, and he supposes Barty and Evan too.
Because a report has to be taken back to Voldemort, a review of all the damage done, and probably an evaluation on the new recruits, whether or not they were brutal enough.
Because in this world, the world of the death eaters, brutal means trustworthy.
Bellatrix has been the selected, or volunteered, reporter for this mission at hand, being the leader of the team, and constantly trying to work her way into Voldemort’s pocket, this doesn’t exactly surprise Sirius.
What does surprise him however, is his own voice as he calls out to his cousin, after they’ve all apparated away and back to Malfoy Manor to flu back to their individual houses.
“Let me accompany you Bella.” He finds himself requesting, his more formal dialect coming out without his permission as a result of merely speaking to his cousin.
But she turns to him slowly, her eyebrow arched high, and an inquisitive look in her eyes as she stares at him unblinking.
“You?” she laughs, a bitter cackle slipping out of her throat even as they do not break their gaze, “Why would-“
She starts again, most likely to scoff, to fight with him about how she clearly doesn’t believe the intentions he’s told everyone is behind his being here, when another voice cuts through the room.
This one not as cruel, but not quite kind either. A melodic voice that contrasts her sisters, and despite everything, has Sirius relaxing slightly from the familiarity of it all.
“Bella, the Dark Lord wants you, I wouldn’t keep him waiting.” She advises, keeping her eyes firmly on her sister, until Sirius speaks up.
“Cissa.”
“Sirius,” she turns to him then, giving him a once over that feels distinctly motherly and out of place in their new found distance since he ran away, but he makes no comment, “go on.” She merely prompts.
“What?” he frowns, looking back at her in confusion, surely he didn’t miss something in 20 seconds, yes he isn’t Regulus, he isn’t the best at reading her, but there isn’t something he’s missed, glanced over, didn’t-
But she merely nods her head to the side slightly, where Bellatrix has started walking down the hall, her heels clicking on the floors much louder than they did when she was younger.
She has clearly removed some of her childhood instincts, that constant craving for safety, that self-preservation in the form of allowing herself to be loud but not so overtly that it makes it easier to anger her parents, it’s gone.
She walks with a loud confidence now, not a quiet one, she wants people to know she is here, she is proud, she has authority over all of them, and despite not owning the house, she has authority over these premises too.
Sirius quickly walks after her, not so fast that it can be deemed improper, his chin lifting up, his eyes unmoving, the worry about the mere ease with which he falls back into these traits dissipating with how easily he lets the propriety of it all take over him.
He catches up to Bellatrix quickly, having mastered a way to walk quickly whilst still exerting power years ago, and falls into stride with her as they approach wherever Voldemort is likely waiting.
“Don’t mess this up.” she hisses to him, not taking her eyes off of the door they are clearly heading towards, not letting her power slip as she threatens him.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He replies breezily, an heir of haughtiness in his tone, that he recognises as mirroring her own from their youth.
He pushes it away.
When they approach the door, Bellatrix sends him a quick look, not a glare, but a look, as if curious to where he is going to take this, before lifting her fist and rapping on the door 2 times and waiting to be called in.
They wait for about 20 seconds before being permitted entry, a power play if Sirius has ever seen one.
“Ah Bellatrix.” Comes the voice from across the room, sat at his desk and staring intently at where they enter the room as soon as the door opens, giving them not a second to adjust, and if Sirius hadn’t trained for this, it might have put him off, if he was James he would have been thrown.
He pushes James from his mind, and focuses on the man in front of him.
If you could even call him a man anymore, when Regulus had bought them to the meeting earlier, he was immediately struck by the man in charge.
The gradual disfigurement of the man in front of him, apparently going unnoticed by many, yet to him was hard to ignore, Sirius found himself tracing the lines of the man’s body, his features, the way the robes clung to his frame, filling him out In his mind, giving a flush to his cheeks, hair to his head, features that the other seemed to be lacking.
Tried to imagine the man before him before life stripped away it all, before he stripped it away.
Sirius hates killing, does not support it, but it being viewed as the unforgiveable dark act, a necessary act required to make horcrux, never sent as much of a chill through him at the thought as he’s sure it should have.
Because to him that felt much kinder, there are many fates he could name, quite a few of which he has witnessed, which he would argue are worse than death.
So this man, this hater of Muggleborns and Halfbloods alike, he can understand him taking the sacrifice of killing others as a pinch of salt in a quest for eternal life.
He can understand that, after all, Sirius knows what it is to want to live.
He learnt it, once he met his friends, it was easy. Once he met his brother, his friends, he knew what it was to feel protective over a life, and once he got out of that house he learnt what it was to feel so protective over his own.
He found enjoyment in his life, and he started to gain understanding for why certain people feared death.
But for this man to give up himself to save himself? How could that make sense?
Why try so hard to preserve yourself if you’re throwing yourself away in the process?
Why put in all that effort if you aren’t, you?
He can’t understand that, for someone to place so much value on themself, he can’t understand this willingness to essentially destroy it all.
“I see you bought Mr Black with you.” Voldemort glances in his direction, tilting his head, an inquiring look crossing his remaining features, before turning back to look at Bellatrix who has a perfectly neutral expression on her face.
Which is odd, not for people in pureblood society, not for a member of the Black family, but for Bellatrix, for himself.
For the two always so determined to make a stand whilst falling in line when they were younger.
Bellatrix was always aggressive in regards to her allegiance with the family. She would follow the rules to a T, but she wouldn’t be quiet and subdued the was Cissa and Reg were.
She was loud, aggressive, a manic grin on her face, a promise of threat in her eyes.
But right now she was blank, which she only ever did when she was mad, when she was mad at the wrong person and had to control herself however she deemed able.
He watches her a moment longer, theories racing through his mind, she wasn’t mad when he caught up with her, when they walked through the door, then what-
“Excuse me my Lord,” she grants, bowing slightly, her expression still broken, fractured in an image of her sisters as she continues talking, “Sirius was eager to learn, work his way up your ranks, he asked to come to the debrief.” She offers quickly, saving Sirius from having to come up with an explanation, a reasoning for being here beyond the truth of wanting to gain as much information as possible to give to Regulus so he can add to his notes.
“Understandable Bella,” he grants, nodding in approval at her slightly, before turning to look to Sirius, who forces himself to keep his eyes on them man in front of him and not his cousins confusing facial expressions, “Why don’t you give me a debrief of what happened?” he offers, a curious glint in his eye, and Sirius raises his head even higher, showing off the honour he should feel for such a privilege that he is sure Voldemort is looking at him for.
“Well, shortly after we arrived, members of the Order showed up,” he admits begrudgingly, because he knows if he doesn’t tell, Bella will, and that will just make him all the more suspicious.
“They didn’t seem to be order members,” she interrupts from the side, “They showed up in 2 waves.”
“They were my old friends,” he fights back immediately, “last we spoke they were joining the order.”
“They could have redirected?”
“To where?” he fights back, desperate to keep the target off of his friends backs, “There is no other form of resistance to us, the ministry is weak, the order has Dumbledore, there is nowhere else for them to redirect their efforts to.”
“They could’ve broken off into their own alliance.” Bellatrix offers, looking intently at him, that curiosity still burning in her eyes, and although they are debating, arguing, this is nothing new for them, she doesn’t currently seem to be trying to catch him out, more or less she seems to be trying to understand what he’s doing here.
“Please,” he finds himself scoffing, building up his mental walls even further, not to keep them out, no-one is prying in yet, but to keep himself out, his emotions cuts off.
To willingly do what he hated as a child.
“That Mudblood?” he continues, laughing bitterly, drowning everything in him out, morals, thoughts, opinions, emotions, to the point that he can’t even feel the pain using such words in relation to his friends causes him, “You really think she could lead a successful resistance against the Dark Lord?” he asks, trapping her in a position where she cannot disagree.
“Of course not,” she replies, hostility dripping from her voice, looking quickly to the man in question, but he is merely looking on, his expression neutral, a hint of amusement and curiosity in his eye that sends alarm bells off in Sirius’ head, “someone else could be leading the cause though.” She suggests, clearly not willing to admit defeat to her younger cousin quite yet.
“Unlikely, they all follow her like lost puppies, pathetic really, even if they’re only Halfbloods, you think they’d at least have enough self-respect to keep her in her place.” He protests immediately, this time even his mental blocks can’t stop the burn on his tongue at the words.
But he needs to keep them looking as pathetic as possible, as weak as possible. He can’t have them being seen as a threat.
Not yet, not for as long as he can help it.
“Surely-“ she tries again, but Sirius cuts her off.
“Surely nothing Bella,” he protests firmly, the kind of voice he was taught to use when he was being raised as heir of his house, “Such people could never be a threat to our cause, the Order, is who we need to keep an eye on, they have purebloods fooled into their ranks, that is where the problems lay, that is clearly who we were fighting with today.”
He says it so adamantly, he’s sure, if they weren’t raised together, even someone as paranoid as Bella would’ve believed every word on his lips.
As it is, for some reason, right now, she remains silent.
“Very well,” Voldemort continues, “We will keep an eye on the order only for now, these other people don’t seem to be a threat, as you suggest,” he nods his head towards Sirius, and Sirius nods back slightly, lowering his gaze, as a sign of submission, and a sign of respect, “now why don’t you inform me of what else happened.
And Sirius does, leaving out any mention of order members and the like who seemed too defensive of each other, keeping potential weakness he spotted out of his debrief, going into everything else in extreme detail until Voldemort seems satisfied and has them dismissed.
When he finally walks out the door, he turns quickly, ready to leave, before an arm is on his, holding him back, and a familiar voice he thought he had left behind in the room leans in to whisper in his ear,
“Not so fast cuz, family dinner first.” She laughs when he tenses up, before he remembers himself and schools the tension into the perfect posture once more, “Don’t worry, no parents this time, just the kids.”
And like that, she has his arm and is dragging him off to the nearest fireplace, any hope of a quiet evening with James quickly dashed from his mind.
“Bella!” comes his cousins voice once again when he manages to step out of the fireplace and out of Bellatrix’s grasp.
“Cissy.” Bellatrix smiles one of the few genuine smiles he has seen on her, the one that makes you think she hasn’t truly lost the plot, just, a part of it.
“You bought Sirius?” Narcissa speaks up again, turning to look at him, her face eerily blank in a way that reminds him too much of Regulus.
“Yes, darling Sister, it’s family dinner.” Bellatrix scolds lightly, the manic smile working its way back onto her face.
“Yes, yes this is all very nice,” Sirius rambles off, stepping out of grabbing vicinity of his two cousins, “But unless I have gone partially blind, my brother is not here, so it can’t really be a family dinner now, can it? Such a shame, really, but I guess we’ll have to reorganise.” He protests quickly, the random spiel of words falling from his tongue in a way he is so used to from using it at school as he makes his quick getaway towards the fire.
“Not so fast.” Bellatrix calls out, turning to her sister for support, “I’m sure if you are that desperate for a family dinner, a true family dinner, one can be arranged.”
“I’m sure it can.” Narcissa nods lightly, face still frustratingly impassive as she looks away from her sister to Sirius again.
“There it’s settled, and you did such a good job today with the order,” she informs him, her eyes alight with danger, “you deserve a courtesy celebration, indulge us Sirius.” She says wrapping her hand around his arm, as a lady would do to a suitor, except this hold has a bruising grip, “after all, you left us for so long, you wouldn’t want us to think your allegiances are foggy.”
She smiles at him, pulling him towards the dining room where Rabastan, Rodolphus and Lucius all sit, rising quickly from their chairs as the newcomers arrive, Sirius being ushered to the right hand side of his cousin, who takes the head of the table, opposite her husband. Narcissa, opposite Sirius, sits next to her husband, Lucius. And Sirius sits next to, Rodolphus?
Rabastan?
Whichever one his cousin didn’t marry, he doesn’t know, nor care.
But they quickly settle down as the first course is bought out.
When they reach the final course, desert, Bellatrix turns her gaze to him again, her eyes much more piercing and demanding this time.
“So Sirius, what are your intentions in rejoining the family?” she asks, a challenge in her eyes, that Sirius, once again, can’t place and therefore cannot beat.
“To rise through the Dark Lords ranks,” he offers, “of course.”
“Noble aspirations, truly. We are,” she pauses, a lingering sardonic smile on her face as she seemingly searches her mind for the right words, “proud of you. And your rejoining commitment to the family.”
Sirius goes to open his mouth, to protest, but she beats him to it.
“Of course, that doesn’t mean your initial,” another pause, “dissatisfaction with the way our family runs things will go ignored simply because you decided to grace us with your presence again.”
“I don’t quite care whether I’m accepted into this family Bella.” He offers airily, trying to ignore the temptation to spit and hiss, act like the snake his family had always raised him to be.
“Oh?” she asks, the same challenge lingering in her eyes, starting to meld with satisfaction, and he chances a looks at Narcissa, who is gazing on, her eyes no longer leaving his face whenever she can, with the same level of impassiveness that used to drive him mad.
“I returned for Regulus,” he states simply, before tacking on, “and to join the right side of this war. I am afraid, dear cousin, your attitude towards me, is not a thing I care to change or acknowledge. I am quite happy in my station, quite happy to overtake you.” he adds, a sinister smile taking over his face, that, judging by the way Narcissa returns to avoiding his gaze, is a little too similar to Bellatrix for any of their likings.
“Now, you listen here-“ she starts, but Sirius is already up and out of his chair, letting it scrape the polished floors below him, as he hurries to stand, leaving scuff marks on the marble in his wake.
Because he does not care for this family, never does, never will, the only member he does care about isn’t even in this room.
So, despite being trapped in this new life, one of lies and murder, he still protests, still rebels anyway he can.
And he does so by storming out, ignoring the calling voice of Narcissa behind him.
“It’s ok Cissa,” he hears Bella soothe as he reaches the door, “the dinner was over anyway.”
And all of a sudden his blood is boiling, he can feel it thumping in his face, hitting the surface over and over again as he feels it rise through his body, up and into his cheeks.
He whips his head around to level a glare at Bella, who is already looking to him sipping on her wine without a supposed care in the world.
“You,” he starts before heaving a breath and moving a couple steps forward, causing the men at the table to straighten, even as his cousins do not move an inch, merely looking at him, bored indifference lingering in one gaze, curious challenge in the other, “You are exactly like her.”
And he sees Bella pause, before cocking her head in apparent confusion, “Who?”
“Walburga.” He spits, “Belittling something someone does for themselves, saying the dinners over when I storm out, making it out as if me leaving was your decision, saying whatever you can to keep control. What? Struggle to find it anywhere else do you?”
“Why you little-“ she starts, eyes flashing as she stands up, her chair screeching against the floors, but he too does not flinch.
Sirius whisks out of the room, usually he would stay, usually he would fight, but he isn’t exactly in the mood to incur his brothers wrath over this.
Especially if Bella is part of some stupid elaborate plan he hasn’t told him yet.
James’ Pov-
James can’t breathe, everything is blurry and the fire around him is raging.
He starts to hear the pops of apparition around him but nothing is really getting to him.
He isn’t sure who’s leaving, whether it’s his people, or … his people?
It’s all confusing, but he doesn’t have time to dwell on it, he can feel the fire entering his lungs and all of it being coughed back up again, but not quick enough to cancel out how fast he is breathing it in.
He doesn’t have the capacity to put up a shield, to defend his mind from all of this, let alone his body, his lungs.
But he doesn’t have to wait long, before there is a hand on his shoulder, voices whispering in his ear, and he is being whisked away in the sensation, his feet lifting off the ground as they travel to the next location.
Doesn’t have time to look at who’s moving him, doesn’t have time to pull out of their grip, which is good in retrospect.
The panic in his own mind overtaking any survival instincts, stopping him from splinching himself or his companion in protest.
Which is especially good when he lands, grass underfoot that he just about manages to make out through glassy eyes, and realises the hands on him are slackening, softening on his arm, guiding him in movements, not restraints, and he just has to assume whoever has him is good.
So he leans into it slightly, lets himself be moved as he attempts to focus on quelling the panic currently seizing his chest.
“What happened?” he hears the voices start to overlap in his head as he tries to sort through his senses to make sense of it all.
“He isn’t responding.”
“Well that’s obvious isn’t it.” A voice snarks, at the exact same time James makes the same private remark in his head.
“What happened?”
“I don’t know-“ the other voice starts, before being cut off again by the voice from before, the sensible voice.
“Well then you’re useless, get out of the way.”
“Reg-“
“Out! You aren’t going to help, so just-“ but James zones out because it’s Regulus, which means he is safe, he wasn’t taken by some random person, he is safe.
And like that, he realises he did truly have some survival instincts left over, because they drop away quickly when he realises who he is in the company of.
All the voices fade away, and he retreats further inside his own mind, because his body is safe, so he can relax.
So why isn’t he relaxing?
The panic crawls its way up and into his chest again, only to increase tenfold when he realises Regulus is here?
How did he get to this boy?
Was he the one who bought him here?
Was he on that battlefield with him?
Is he hurt?
And all of a sudden James’ mind is flooded again, a new type of nausea, a new type of panic as he see Regulus’ body, surrounded by blood, flowing out of him rapidly. He’s still as a sheet, his body getting paler by the second, and all of a sudden James can feel heat, and he looks up from the body and sees fire working its way over to them. They are in a burning building, and their friends are screaming outside.
Their friends are screaming.
Regulus isn’t moving.
And James isn’t breathing.
A little rational part at the back of his mind tries to speak up, quell the fear. Separate the two events his mind is so easily melding together.
But it’s all too much, and the fire is too hot, and he feels nails scratching at his skin as if trying to drag him out of it.
Tear him to pieces.
And then there are hands on his arms, pulling them, pulling them apart.
“James.”
Everything freezes, his lungs still don’t have any air, but they are no longer making desperate, fruitless attempts to bring some into his chest.
His mind is still frayed at the edge, ripped apart, but it is all centring in on that one voice instead of the flurry of voices trying to get to him from around it, the memories trying to talk to him, get his attention away from this safe haven, this voice.
“Reg?” he tries back, because he has only ever known about one voice inside his mind, so who else could it be. The silky smooth cadence of the voice sends a sort of blanket of warmth over James and he doesn’t quite understand why, but he leans into it, almost missing the fire that had been close to burning him before.
“James, do you know where you are? “ The voice asks again, soft, calming, unlike the Regulus James knows, but it does not bring any panic, or doubt, he still believes he knows who is talking to him, bringing him out of the mist of his mind even if he doesn’t know how well he’s doing it quite yet.
“With you?” he asks, concern bubbling back up in him that he doesn’t even know where he is, everything is dark and he’s so confused. And scared, and his mind is a mess, everything is a mess.
“Yeah,” Regulus laughs softly, which is an odd sensation to hear in your mind, you can feel it, almost shaking through you, and it’s not scary, or uncomfortable, it almost feels like a hug, like someone sharing their warmth, “yeah, you’re with me, we’re at Pandoras.”
“Oh.”
“Can you feel your arms?” the other boy asks again, his voice still pleasantly calming.
“Yeah,” and at the drawing to attention of the sensation, James can feel his breath quickening again, “somethings grabbing them, somethings, somethings-“
“James, James it’s me.” Regulus’ voice breathes out quickly, “It’s my hands, can you feel them?” he asks again.
And James focuses in, the light squeeze on his arms, the slow circles that have started being rubbed into them at the rise of his panic.
“Yeah, yeah I can.”
“That’s good, that’s really good James. Now can you tell me your favourite animal?”
“Why?”
“Indulge me?” the other boy asks, softly, almost curious.
“A stag?”
And the other boy shakes a bit with laughter, “Oh really? You are so predictable.”
“What, how-“
“The stag, so regal and proud, such a Gryffindor.” He laughs, and James finds himself in mock offence, ridiculing the other boy back as he finds slightly more air in his lungs to focus, to allow himself to choose the right words to think back.
“Awe and what’s yours? A kitty cat?” he laughs, before noticing the pause on the other end of the mental connection, “Reg?”
“Yes Potter?” he asks, still soft, but slightly disgruntled.
“Wait…” and James thinks, sure a smile is making its way onto his face, “am I right, it’s a kitten? A little baby cat. Aweeee Reggie.”
“It’s Regulus.”
“No no, any cat lover has to be called Reggie.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Coming from a man named Reggie?”
“My name is not Reggie.” The other man snaps back, but James can hear amusement lingering in his tone.
“Uh huh, sure thing Reggie.” He drags out the name, a teasing lilt to his voice, before a smack is delivered to his arm.
“Oi!” he protests back immediately.
“Oh shush, now get out of your mind Potter.” Regulus says, but residual humour is still evident in his voice, lingering there.
“But, I can’t see.” James tries.
“Potter.” Regulus sighs as if he is having to deal with an insolent toddler, and not the 18yr old James actually is.
“Yes?”
“Open your eyes.”
“What-“
But he does, and immediately he feels a flush rising to his cheeks. Oh, he is an insolent little toddler. Because how the fuck did he not realise he had his eyes shut.
He looks up to Regulus, into his eyes which are still staring at James, laced with the kind of concealed concern James learnt to recognised in Sirius’ eyes when he ran away and watched Regulus’ every meal in the great hall, every turn in the corridor.
And James prepares for more shame to rush through him, another person saw him breaking, another person saw through this perfect façade he was trying to hide behind.
But for some reason he doesn’t, he looks into the stormy grey eyes, sees the flecks of green circling them unlike his brothers, and feels a sense of calm wash over him, one to put to shame the calm that bought him down from the panic attack.
His mind and heart just feel so calm, so in sync for once in his life.
And he’s experiencing it in the eyes of this man.
“You ok?” Regulus breaks the silence as James continues to stare.
“Yeah,” he says, slightly breathless for some reason, “yes, yeah, I- thank you.”
“No problem.” Regulus replies, before shuttering his eyes off, and standing up straight, it’s only at this point that James realises he was kneeling in front of him.
But just as James goes to try and stop him from leaving, shutting him out when he had just unknowingly opened James up, Pandora walks into the room holding three mugs that she quickly hands out, smelling distinctly of chocolate.
James grabs it off of her with a quiet thank you and an eagerness he can’t be embarrassed about, after all, Moony always told him that chocolate is the answer the everything, he takes a sip to his lips as Regulus starts to talk again, his hot chocolate neglected slightly to the side.
“Where’s my brother?” he bites out, all the compassion gone from his voice as he demands some answers.
“Evan and Barty said he went off to the debrief meeting with Bellatrix.”
“Why the fuck would he do that?” Regulus bites out before starting to pace, and then, clocking James and seemingly remembering he is in the room, draws himself to a stop.
“You said you wanted information.” Pandora offers gently, almost like she doesn’t want to remind him, but can’t bring herself to hide information from him.
“Fuck.” Regulus protests before dropping to the couch behind him and hanging his head, before then continuing to immediately stand right back up, his eyes sparking as he heads towards the door.
“Pads can’t be reined in-“ James offers, and Regulus pauses, turning to glare at him, a look of impatience and curiosity in his eyes, so James continues to offer up his knowledge, “Even if you didn’t want information, he would’ve gone.” He explains, “Bellatrix was going to debrief, it’s personal, he wants to keep an eye on her, show her he can be better, he would’ve gone into that meeting either way.” He watches Regulus eye him, and hopes it sinks in that this is not his fault, he could not stop it.
“I know.”
“I know.”
They look at each other, watching their every movements, before Pandora speaks up again, “Evan went back to speak to their elf, apparently Sirius went to a ‘family dinner’ with Bellatrix, Cissa and their husbands.”
This finally seems to settle Regulus slightly, knowing his brother hasn’t been left alone with Voldemort, and he allows himself to move slightly into the room again.
“I’m going to go sort some food,” Pandora informs them both, looking as if she is about to flee, when she sees James’ confused expression, she quickly tacks on, “I assume we’re waiting for him to get back? If it’s a family dinner it might take a while.” She exchanges a look of annoyance with Regulus at that, that has him laughing before she quickly drifts up and out of the room.
James and Regulus left behind, in some awkward silence, that has James uncomfortably clearing his throat and Regulus rolling his eyes at the nervous gesture.
“Reg?” he asks.
“Regulus.” He is quickly corrected, the boy staring ahead of himself and sipping sporadically from his drink, as James tries to catch his eyes.
“Regulus?”
“Yes Potter?”
“James,” he fights back, before adding in a slightly more desperate tone, because Regulus has already seen him break, so why not a little more vulnerability, “Please.”
The other boy finally turns to look at him. a questioning yet closed off look in his eyes.
“James.” He offers, an olive branch that James clings to.
“Why.” A pause, “Do-“ he starts again, before unconsciously cutting himself off, his voice breaking off halfway through his words. He forces it out though, “Do you not like me?”
“That would require me to care enough to have an opinion, I neither hate nor like you, I am neutral.” Regulus replies easily, the response seemingly slipping from his tongue.
“Right,” James nods, ignoring the hurt in his chest, “what if I died?”
Regulus whips his head around to look at him, a furrowing of emotion in his brows.
“Would you care?” James tries.
“Well, considering I don’t care enough to have an opinion, why would I care about you in a situation that is meant to be emotional. I would say, logic dictates I would not care, would you not agree?”
But James knows this game, because despite how Regulus likes to pretend, they were partnered together in a class for 4yrs, they did banter a bit before everything went to shit, in the halls, at dinner.
“I would agree,” he concedes before continuing, “however, that is logic. Logic and emotion rarely go hand in hand. So, I am asking, would you care?”
“It would be inconvenient.” Regulus offers, missing his gaze again.
“Would you care?”
“I don’t like change.”
“I know,” and Regulus glares, “I assume that’s one of the reasons you don’t want to leave your house.” he watches as Regulus opens his mouth, likely to protest. But James doesn’t let him, “we aren’t debating that. I know you have other reasons, but would you care?”
“I’d rather you didn’t die.”
“So, yes?”
“I suppose, I kind of like you alive James Potter.” And James grins.
“I kind of like you alive too Regulus Black.”
They hold each other’s gaze for a while, before James opens his mouth again, “I thought we were friends.”
“What?” Regulus asks, astonishment, a proper emotion, covering his features.
“Any normal person, and I say that as a compliment to you, not an insult, would have deemed us friends from the way we- I- interacted with you at school.”
“Any normal person,” Regulus counters immediately, because he cannot loose apparently, “would see the popular kid talking with the person they’re sat next to in class and say it’s just their personality, just making the lesson go faster.”
“Any normal person, would see how I chatted to you outside of class too, even when I had my friends around, and even when I didn’t, would see that I wouldn’t do that if I didn’t want to spend time with you, didn’t want you as a friend.”
“Any normal person, would see the golden retriever puppy that is James Potter, and understand that he saw me as a challenge, he cannot stand being disliked, and I could be deemed an obstacle in his path he had to conquer.”
“Well,” James offers, his chest starting to hurt slightly at the younger boys words, “anybody, normal or not, should know, that you didn’t act like you didn’t like me in third year, and I still treated you the same, reached out the same, chatted the same, when I couldn’t even view you as an obstacle.”
“What does that say about me?” James asks.
“That you’re an idiot,” Regulus argues, “Obviously I’m an obstacle, and to not see me as such is stupid on your part.”
“Ah,” and James lifts his finger to Regulus’ face, “there we will have to disagree-“
“Just there?” he asks sarcastically.
“Yes, just there, for I could never see you as an obstacle.”
“I literally am?” Regulus asks, brow furrowing.
“No, an obstacle implies you get over it, over them- once you defeat it. I want to win, and I want to keep you. That’s what friendship is, and that is what I am trying to get you to understand.
Regulus opens his mouth, a slight breath huffing out of it, and they just stare at each other for a moment, the same peace from earlier, Regulus’ voice in his head, eyes on him, quickly flooding him again.
They stare a bit longer before a cough interrupts them, and Regulus pulls himself back into himself again.
And James smiles softly at him softly, an assurance for the brief moments where Regulus’ eyes remain on his face.
When he finally looks away, James lets out a breath of his own, disappointment swarming him.
Regulus’ Pov-
Everything is confusing.
He just stopped James Potter, the bubbly, happy, golden boy Gryffindor from having a panic attack.
And it’s not like he expected the guy to always be happy and just have his entire life be sunshine and rainbows. Regulus is practical, he knows about the delights of the human mind, and just how shit it can really make you feel.
But he didn’t expect James to spiral just that much, so lost in his own mind that the only thing he seemed able to focus in on was Regulus’ voice.
And that, that in of itself was even weirder, how James could focus on it so easily. He tries to tell himself it’s because Regulus is familiar, a recognisable voice in a field of panic.
But he felt the warmth emitting from James’ mind, even after he started breathing normally again.
And the way the boy looked at him afterwards?
They just stared, and then that whole spiel about being friends?
He had spent years convincing himself that James only viewed him as his best friends little brother, reflecting now he sees how much of it was a self-preservation instinct.
James spoke to him in halls, put effort into looking after him. He though it was that natural feeling of protection being projected onto him. Looking out for Sirius by looking out for him.
But he’s not that much younger? And Pandora told him when James found them, when he fought to stay, find out what was happening, she said he seemed to care a lot.
He brushed it off, Pandora wouldn’t give him details, viewed it as breaching a trust she hadn’t discussed with the other boy.
But now, James keeps looking at him, and he doesn’t understand it. What’s going on?
Whether or not this boy really cares beyond their shared connection to Sirius.
Then again, this boy does tend to love with his whole heart, it isn’t… unlikely.. that he started the friendship for Sirius, and then wanted to keep it for Regulus.
Only Regulus is struggling to grasp the concept of someone just, choosing him. when they have the option of just sticking with his brother.
Dorcas chose his brother, yes she chose the good side, yes she didn’t want to be a death eater, he gets that, he does. But he misses her, and she just went to his brother.
Sirius may have left them all, but he left. That’s what Sirius always does, he does the leaving and Regulus gets left.
Sirius left Regulus.
Dorcas left Regulus.
Sirius left Dorcas.
Everything is just too much, and he doesn’t know how to comprehend someone choosing him. someone who didn’t pick him full of naivety in first year. Someone who isn’t as insane as him and therefore he needs insane friends to match.
So he brushed James off, said he was only talking to him because of Sirius.
But can he really believe that? James wouldn’t pretend, wouldn’t hurt someone that way.
It’s a toss up of his own self-hatred, or understanding the goodness in James’ heart.
James gave his brother a home, someone Regulus could send him to.
James was thing that allowed Regulus to save his brother, a guy that good, can Regulus really look at him so poorly.
He lifts his head slightly to look at the boy in question, his mind spiralling as he does so, and when he meets those brown eyes, so out of focus, but seemingly unaware of the fact he zoned out looking at Regulus, his mind slows down.
In the same way that James’ mind seemed to slow down both times Regulus entered it.
He watches the other boy for a minute, lost in just looking, when Regulus feels a ripple go through him, and he whips his head around to face the window, and James, apparently still on high alert, is immediately following his movements.
He watches as a body walks its way down the spiralling path to the front door, stomping their way up, muttering under their breath in rapid speed, and Regulus finds himself jumping up and running to the door.
“SIRI!” he yells, the childhood nickname slipping out as he throws open the front door to face his brother.
The second he sees his brother look up, the anger in his eyes dulling slightly as they look to each other, he marches over and shoves Sirius back.
“What is wrong with you!” he spits, exhausted, “Why would you willingly go to a meeting with him alone!?” he asks, stepping forward and pushing him again, it has the opposite effect expected as he watches Sirius’ eyes soften.
“I’m fine Reg.” he mutters, reaching out to stop the next shove Regulus was reaching out to do.
“You’re an idiot, is what you are.” Regulus fights again, but he lets his brother stop him. and soon, after their squabble has dulled slightly, a blur rushes past him and James is throwing himself on the other boy.
“Pads.” James chokes out, his voice slightly broken again, before he schools it under control, “are you ok?” he asks twisting his head to look as best into Sirius’ eyes as he can without letting go.
“Fine prongs.” He watches his brother grin back, laughing lightly before pulling back just enough to properly see the other boys face as he looks in his eyes, “You?”
“Peter.” James whispers under his breath, and Regulus takes this as a cue to leave, a tightness curling up in his chest as he moves back into the house, wondering into the house to help Pandora in the kitchen.
“”He’s back?” she asks gently, still facing the stove and stirring whatever she is cooking on it.
“Yeah.” He mutters, his voice dry and monotone and it has her turning around.
“Reg?” she asks, her voice soft as she flicks her wand to still the food (which she otherwise cooks the muggle way) and moves over to him slowly, as if he could be easily startled.
He is, but he learnt to quell that reaction a long time ago, so he stays still as she makes her way towards him.
“Yeah, he’s fine.” He offers before walking next to her slightly, so that they were shoulder to shoulder and he could look into the pan on the counter, “What are you cooking?”
“Leak and Potato.” She offers, giving him a minute, before turning to stand next to him, gazing out the window to the back garden, both of them settling into a comfortable silence.
“Reg?”
“Hmm?”
“Is it your brother?” she asks softly.
“My brother?” he laughs, a bitter sound that aches in his chest, “I think you mean Potters brother.”
“Reg,”
“No it’s fine, I told him to leave.”
“You did, you can still resent the situation, just not yourself.” She speaks tenderly, leaning her head onto his shoulder slightly and sighing softly.
“I didn’t say I resent myself.”
“No,” she grants, “no you didn’t, but I also know you wont let yourself blame your brother, so your going to go to the next available candidate, and for some reason you always make that yourself.”
She sounds sad, and he cant even correct her, because she’s not wrong. He could lie, but she would see through it, any lie he ever tried to tell her failed. So he stopped trying in their second year. And he is not going to ruin that for her now. Not going to lie now, when she wouldn’t even blame him anyway.
“I’m glad he left,” she stays quiet, “and I know I have him back now. But- but having him back, back here in this life, I am starting to wonder if I ever had him. He seemed so happy. So fucking happy once he left, every time he’s with Pot- with James. He seems, I don’t know, happy. And I can’t remember a time he was ever like that with me.”
She squeezes his arm slightly from where she had grabbed hold of him, and he continues, “I mean, is he even my brother, was he ever my brother, if he was never with me as himself? It’s like, with James, he is him, James know what it’s like to have Sirius have a brother, I don’t. And I fucking hate that. I hate that James had Sirius, and I had a shell. I hate that I don’t know what it’s like to have my brother and someone else does. I hate that someone else saved him whilst I keep pulling him down dragging him to his death-“
“You didn’t-“
“I did,” he snaps, pulling away from her abruptly, before turning back to her and softening his gaze again, because this is Pandora, she doesn’t deserve his outbursts, even if she said she is happy to take them, “he just had a meeting with him, him because I wanted the information. He messed up out entire childhood to protect me. I got him out of that house, I did one good thing, and then I fucked something else up, ended up in a hospital bed and he decided he needed to come back and save me, again.”
“Reg-“
“No, no. I can’t- I cant even blame him for having another brother when his real one just destroys him every time he gets close.”
“Reg-“ she tries again, when he lets out a big breath and just deflates. Seemingly having given up.
But she is quickly interrupted by two laughing boys entering the kitchen.
“Hey what we eating?” Sirius calls, and James laughs.
“He means, is there anything left to help with?”
“Yeah,” Pandora offers, “Set the table?”
And Regulus brushes his face before turning around to walk past them and towards the guest room.
“What-“ he hears called from behind him.
“Leave it-“ and then he is shutting the door and out of hearing range.
He stays in the room for a bit longer, allowing himself to wallow for a minute, to just breathe.
Ignores the pain of panic piercing his chest, knowing he was meant to be home for dinner and his mother will be mad about it.
He sits there, sitting in the anxiety of it all, forcing himself to be quiet about it just like he was taught when a knock comes on the door, “Reggie?” comes through the door, and he quickly lets them in.
“Oh Reg.” his brother sighs, pity lacing his voice as he drops down in front of him, kneeling at the edge of the bed, “Reggie, breathe, look at me, follow me.”
And his brother starts breathing emphatically, allowing Regulus to start following along until he gets his breathing under control, even if the stabbing in his chest is still there.
“What bought this on?” Sirius asks softly, gazing at him with such gentle intensity Regulus isn’t sure how to feel about it.
He wants to be honest, but that’s the very thing he was spiralling about in the first place, feeling guilty about in the first place.
Telling his brother he was scared when he was younger, then all of a sudden Sirius was taking his punishments, letting Pandora tell him about the horcruxes, and then he is joining the death eaters.
He cant do that again, can’t ruin his brother’s life further than he already has.
So he swallows down the ‘I’m scared to go home’ that had settled in his throat, ready to be spoken, because he can’t let Sirius follow him to that place again.
“Nothing, everything’s just, a lot.” He answers, and Sirius frowns slightly.
“It is, but that’s why you have us all, that’s why you have me. It’s not as much when it’s all split up, is it?” he asks, a worried smile on his face.
“6.” He chokes out.
“6?”
“We think there’s 6 horcruxes.”
He watches as Sirius’ smile falters at the announcement, his half truth of why he is panicking, before he shoves a grin on his face.
“Well that’s fine.”
“What, Sirius? Are you dumb, that’s, that’s-“
“Healthy competition is what that is.”
And Regulus just stares at his brother, because surely he is not serious, surely not, surely-
“6 horcruxes, that’s just over one to find each.” He smiles again, and Regulus just stares at his brother as if he has lost his mind.
He might of, maybe one too many crucios now that Regulus considers it.
“In fact,” his brother continues, ignoring Regulus’ internal debate about his mental state, “you’ve already found one, so I should easily find two. There is no way you can beat me in this.”
“Sirius.”
“Yes yes,” Sirius laughs, looking at his bewildered face, “I know you’re only 9 months younger than me, and it’s not that much, but you see. I will always be 9 months wiser, and therefore I can guarantee you, even if your little brain does not understand, that I will simply find 2 horcruxes.”
Regulus just keep staring at him, judgment evident on his face, and it does not stop Sirius talking.
“In fact, I don’t think I even have to look-“
“Sirius!” he exclaims, finally loosing it with his older brothers stupidity.
“What? I’m your older brother, it’s my duty to beat you, fate should be on my side, honestly I’m just waiting for one to fall into my lap.”
And at that announcement, he holds his hands out, looks to the sky, and starts yelling ‘COME ON’, over and over again, as if genuinely waiting for a horcrux to just land in his lap. And Regulus just stares.
“You cant be serious?” he starts and Sirius’ eyes light up, so he quickly tacks on an exasperated, “Don’t!” before staring at him again.
“Fine.” He rolls his eyes, “No I am not being serious, I am not dumb. But if I was I would be dumber than you.”
“Sirius-“
“I cant help beating you,” he shrugs, a laughter clearly bubbling up in his chest that he is trying to supress so he can joke about how serious this situation really is to him.
“We’re going to be ok Reggie.” his brother finally calms down enough to look serious.
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
“Yeah, ok.” he concedes, before going out to join them all for dinner.