Bright Water

Regulus chuckled softly. Barty’s comment helped a great deal. “Barty, of all people, you should know it’s possible to like more than one person at a time!” Barty mumbled something in response, but it was soon forgotten.

“Anyway, back to Potter. What do you think James’s first impression of you was? Which trait of James do you find most attractive? Have you ever had a deep conversation with James about something that matters to you? And if you could change one thing about your relationship with James, what would it be?” Barty asked. Regulus was about to answer when Barty added, “Oh, and the most important question of all: what kind of humour do you think James has?”

Regulus absorbed the questions. There were many, but he could answer them all without having to think too hard.

“When James first met me, I think he saw me as part of Sirius’s life, a sort of background figure. As Sirius’s brother,” that was the first question.

“I must admit, I find his determination quite appealing. When he sets his mind to something, he really goes after it, no matter what. It can be a bit irritating, but it’s also something I respect... and then there are his thighs.” That was the second question.

“We’ve had a few superficial conversations, but nothing that really went in-depth. We talked briefly at the concert, and I’m pretty sure he was flirting with me. But the conversation lasted no more than five minutes.” That was the third question.

“I’d like to change the wall that stands between us. More specifically, I want to remove it. I want James to talk to me without feeling guilty about Sirius. I don’t want to just be Sirius’s little brother; I want to be me.” That was the fourth question.

“And last but not least: James has a very self-deprecating sense of humour. He can take things lightly and find humour in situations that others might take far too seriously. I wouldn’t say I always get his jokes, but his ability to laugh at himself and the situations he’s in is actually quite charming.” That was the final question.

The two boys in front of him sat in silence. He had just shared with them what he had never told a living soul. They had his whole heart laid out before them, and Regulus hoped they wouldn’t crush it.

“What date is it today?” Barty asked.

“August 22nd,” Evan replied.

“Regulus, that means it’s actually nearly 11 years,” Barty said, laughing smugly. “That’s longer than you’ve known us! And that’s about half your life.”

“Wow, Barty, you can do maths? If you keep this up, I’ll have to start writing you a card for the anniversary. I hope you’ve prepared a grand speech in honour of this monumental milestone,” Regulus replied sarcastically.

“Ah, our Reg is back,” Evan declared. They all smiled. Regulus didn't want to continue to convasation and the twoo others knew that without even asking.

“Well, the cat’s name is Galena, which apparently is a crystal. She’s doing fine; Pan takes good care of her. She prefers belly rubs, especially from Barty, the lucky man.”

James put the soaked note back into his jacket pocket. It was raining heavily, and it hadn’t even turned autumn yet. Well, it would in a few days, but it was still the details that mattered. He had seized the opportunity to seek out Regulus, and he had taken it. Remus and Sirius had gone for a long walk in a forest, and James had declined the invitation to join them. Now he stood outside Ivy Street number 3, staring at a grand, divine villa. It looked daunting in the rain, resembling Dracula's house (sorry, Reggie, but it was true). The dark bricks looked ancient, and moss was growing along the edges of every corner. He hurried through the driveway, past rows of dark flowers, and quickly climbed the steps. As he stood in front of the imposing wooden door, he began to doubt his decision. Was it too much to show up here? After all, they had only spoken once. Would Reg just throw him out the moment the door opened? Most likely! He wasn’t usually this nervous (or impulsive); normally, he’d ring the bell and charm his way in with sweet words. He took a deep breath and rang the bell. He shuffled from foot to foot, waiting for someone to answer the door. The wait felt like an eternity, but it could easily have been ten seconds or five minutes. He had no idea. He heard footsteps behind the door, followed by the sound of a lock being turned. The door opened with a creaking sound that reminded James of his father's back issues. He looked expectantly to see Regulus, but was disappointed by the sight. Evan Rosier—a boy who had been a year below him at Hogwarts and had been friends with Regulus—stood in the doorway, a cheerful smile slowly spreading across his face.

"Oh," was the only word James could manage to say. Rosier laughed, revealing a row of perfect white teeth.

"Potter?"

Right, James needed to say something! He probably looked like an idiot in Rosier's eyes, but the possibility that he wouldn’t be greeted by Regulus at the door hadn’t crossed his mind.

"Oh, Rosier… good to see you. I, um… I hope your exams went well!"

Bloody hell, he sounded like such a fool!

"They did, thanks. What are you doing here?"

What the hell was James supposed to say? Like, what the hell, what the hell, what the hell! There was no way he could tell the truth, was there? And if he did, Rosier would just run off and tell Regulus, ruining the surprise. But did he have any other options? No.

"Uh, sorry, I thought… that Regulus lived here." James said so quickly that the boy in front of him couldn’t possibly have heard him.

"Oh, so you’re looking for Reggie," the way Evan used Regulus’ nickname made James feel uneasy. He didn’t like it, and something that resembled possessiveness began to take shape in James.

"Well, he does live here." He smiled widely at James, exposing his white teeth once more. Why did he have such perfect teeth? Yes, James definitely had 100% possessiveness when it came to Reg. I wonder if they were together? What a strange question. Reg didn’t even like boys. But the way he had blushed in the backstage area told James otherwise.

"Is he home?" James’ voice was deeper now, and Rosier clearly noticed, for the smile on his face only grew wider. James wanted so fucking badly to wipe that smile off his face!

"Yes, would you like to see him?"

James nodded without bothering to reply. He stepped into the hallway as space was made for him. He took off his jacket and hung it on a hook. This wasn’t the usual behaviour for James Potter to be rude, and he felt a bit guilty for speaking so harshly.

"Hey, Rosier," James said to get his attention. "Thanks."

"Not at all. Just call me Evan," Rosier—Evan—said, clearly waving a white flag. However, James didn’t bother to return the gesture. Together they walked through the dark hallway adorned with family photographs and into the living room. It was cozier here, but nothing compared to Potter Manor. Two large sofas dominated the room, but Regulus wasn’t sitting on either of them. No, he was sitting on the floor, leaning against one of the sofas, a book in hand, looking completely absorbed.

Evan cleared his throat, and Regulus lifted his gaze from the book.

Their eyes met and locked onto each other. Evan chuckled softly, but neither of them deigned to look at him. James stood for a moment, observing the scene before him, his heart racing faster than he cared to admit. Regulus looked entirely unaffected, sitting on the floor with the book in his lap, but those eyes… those eyes told another story. They met in a moment where the world seemed to stopped existing around them. James felt frozen, caught in the intense exchange of glances as if the entire room had suddenly shrunk to consist only of the two of them.

Evan, still standing close to James, cleared his throat again and slowly shook his head with a small grin. "This is almost too much," he mumbled under his breath, clearly amused by the silent communication between the two. He sauntered over to one of the sofas and flopped down casually, as if he knew he didn’t need to be a part of what was happening right now. James took a deep breath and stepped closer to Regulus.

"Reg," he began, but had to stop and try again. "Regulus, I hope I’m not… interrupting."

Regulus blinked finally, as if waking from a deep train of thought.

"James Potter," he said quietly, but with a sharp undertone that made James tense his shoulders. "What are you doing here?" He closed the book and slowly set it down, his gaze still fixed on James.

James didn’t know what he had expected—perhaps a bit more warmth? He should have brought flowers! But then again, it was Regulus; he shouldn’t expect anything at all. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to find something that didn’t sound completely foolish. "I just wanted to…"

James’ eyes automatically roamed over Regulus, and he stopped abruptly as he suddenly recognised something familiar. His mind fought to pinpoint what it was about Regulus that triggered a clear recognition inside him. Then it hit him like lightning.

The jumper.

The red knit jumpeer that Regulus was wearing was not just any jumper. It was far too big for him, hanging loosely over his shoulders, and the sleeves covered his hands. And then there was the little hole at the collar, right where James had torn it during a wild football match many years ago. It was James’ jumper.

James blinked several times, suddenly feeling a strange sense of wonder and joy spreading within him. "Wait… is that…" He hesitated for a moment but couldn’t hold the question back. "Is it… my jumper?"

Regulus stiffened immediately, clearly unprepared for the question. He cast a quick glance down at himself and then stared at James, confused. "What?"

James couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, his confidence growing with each passing second. "The jumper you’re wearing," he repeated, pointing at it with a broad smile. "It’s mine! I haven’t seen it in years. How… how did you get it?"

Evan, now lounging half on the sofa’s armrest, looked back and forth between them with a suppressed smile. "I could always get some popcorn," he said with a glint in his eye, prompting both James and Regulus to shoot him a synchronised, annoyed glance.

"Not now, Evan," Regulus said with a heavy sigh, as if his patience was already being tested. He turned back to James and studied him in silence.

James couldn’t help but smile even wider. "So you’ve been walking around in my old jumper? It suits you," he said with a glint in his eye, his confidence now clearly evident in his tone.

Despite the redness in Regulus’ cheeks, he managed to respond quite well:

"Of course it’s yours. No one else could have arms as absurdly long!" To demonstrate his point, he lifted his arms in front of him. James got an idea. He hurried over to Regulus and knelt on the floor beside him. Regulus tried to pull away, but James grabbed hold of one of his arms.

"Reg, you just need to roll up the sleeves, love." He began to roll them up slowly, revealing a delicate little hand filled with silver rings. James kept rolling, eager to see more of Regulus’ arm. He had three little freckles that looked like a snowman on the middle of his arm. He continued on the other arm, uninterrupted, but as soon as the second sleeve was also rolled up, Regulus yanked them back.

"I… I didn’t know, okay?" He finally looked up at James with an expression that was a mix of irritation and embarrassment.

James shrugged, still with a cheeky smile. "It’s alright. I think it’s sweet. Maybe you should keep it."

Regulus’ cheeks turned even redder, and he shook his head quickly. "That’s ridiculous," he mumbled, trying to divert attention from the situation. "I’ll give it back to you."

"No, no," James said quickly, leaning a bit closer, a teasing glint in his eyes. "It looks much better on you than it does on me. You should really keep it."

Regulus shook his head and avoided James’s intense gaze, but he couldn’t help feeling a certain warmth at the words. He felt that special connection with James, albeit in an unexpected and slightly embarrassing way.

James leaned back, relaxed and satisfied against the sofa. “Maybe it’s a sign,” he said teasingly. “I mean… you’re already wearing my clothes.”

Regulus could only shake his head, still flushed, but perhaps – just perhaps – there was a small smile hiding at the corners of his lips.

However, Evans’s laugh wiped the forthcoming smile away. When Regulus looked up at James again, his eyes were filled only with coldness.

“Potter, why are you here?” he asked monotonously.

“I just… wanted to see you. Talk.” The words came out clumsily, and he cursed inwardly at how hopeless it sounded.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “See me?” His voice dripped with sarcasm. “Why on earth would I want that? We never talk.”

James leaned in closer, cautiously, as if balancing on an invisible tightrope. “I know. But I thought… maybe we could change that?” His gaze sought Regulus’s again, and even though Regulus tried to appear aloof, James could see something else glimmering in his eyes. Regulus looked at him skeptically, and James met his gaze. James had always loved a challenge, and Regulus Black was undoubtedly one of the greatest. So when Regulus, flushed in the cheeks and clearly embarrassed, tried to dismiss the situation with his usual cool arrogance, James couldn’t help but smile to himself. He could sense Regulus’s insecurity behind the façade, and that was precisely what made it all so fascinating.

“Okay, Potter, what do you actually want?” Regulus sat up a little straighter and glared at him, as if James’s mere presence were a personal insult. “Don’t you have anything better to do than show up here and… play charming?”

James leaned back a little more against the sofa and shook his head with a confident grin. “Honestly, I have nothing better to do than hang out with you, Regulus.” He leaned forward, his gaze sharper and a bit mischievous. “I thought you’d appreciate the company.”

Regulus lifted an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed – or at least trying to look that way. “You’ve misunderstood. You were amusing five minutes ago; now you’re just an irritation.”

James shrugged, not the least bit deterred. “It’s still better than being ignored. You’re still here, aren’t you? And let’s be honest, you haven’t kicked me out yet.”

Regulus sighed in exasperation, as if he were fighting the urge to simply stand up and leave. He slapped his hand against the floor, as if it would chase James away. “I didn’t know you were so bad at taking a hint, Potter.”

“I only ignore those I don’t want to deal with,” James replied with a twinkle in his eye, leaning in closer. “So, what are you reading?”

Regulus blinked and quickly looked down at the book in his hands, as if he had just remembered he was holding it. He frowned and closed it slowly, without taking his eyes off James. “Nothing that would interest you. You can barely spell.”

James chuckled softly, letting the little jab slide because he liked it. There was something about Regulus’s barbs that intrigued him – as if every sarcastic remark were a challenge he wanted to win. “Oh, come on, I can read just fine if I want to. And besides, I write songs! You should try showing me something one day.”

Regulus narrowed his eyes as if weighing the situation. “And why would I do that? I’m pretty sure you’re too busy fumbling through your conversations to actually understand what’s being said.”

“Hey, I understand about half of what you say,” James protested, even as he smiled. He loved how Regulus always managed to turn any conversation into something where he could be a bit spiteful. “But if you really mean that, you could always test me.”

Regulus scoffed and leaned back slightly, still holding the closed book in his hands like a shield against James’s persistent presence. “There’s absolutely no bloody reason to test you, Potter. It would be a waste of time. And I’ve already spent too much of my time on you.”

“But not enough to kick me out,” James noted cheekily, clearly pleased to have found a little crack in Regulus’s otherwise unbreakable façade. “So what do you say? We could chat a bit. Or I can just stay here and keep annoying you.”

Regulus looked at him, eyes appraising, as if trying to figure James out. For a moment, James almost thought he would be told to leave, but then Regulus rolled his eyes and sighed. “Fine. If it means you’ll stop talking, I suppose you’ll have to stay.”

James’s smile widened. He knew it was Regulus’s way of saying yes – a small step, but more than he had hoped for. “Fantastic,” he said, settling in a bit more, as if he had no intention of going anywhere for the time being.

Regulus shot him another glare, but he couldn’t hide the slight hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “If you start talking too much, I’ll kick you out.”

James’s heart did a quick leap of satisfaction. He leaned in with a playful glint in his eye. “I can’t promise anything.”

They sat together on the floor in silence. The rain had picked up, and James felt sorry for his friends, who were now caught out in the downpour. After a few minutes of silence, he just couldn’t keep quiet any longer.

“What’s your favourite colour?” James chirped.

“For fuck sake, Potter, didn’t I just ask you to shut up?”

Oh, Regulus swore a lot, and James liked it. Maybe a little more than he actually should.

“Mine’s red!” James looked down at the red jumper Reg was wearing and continued as if he hadn’t heard Regulus’s outburst.

Regulus rolled his eyes dramatically but still replied, “Mine’s green.”

James hummed with satisfaction. Regulus had answered his question.

“Ironic that you’re wearing a red jumper then,” James practically buzzed. He loved this; he could make Regulus’s face flush just by mentioning the jumper he was wearing.

Reg growled. “Potter—”

“James. Just call me James, Jamie, Jay, Jams, or J. Call me whatever you like!”

“Potter, have you thought about the fact that it’s your jumper I’m wearing? Maybe that’s why it’s red?”

James’s smile just kept getting wider. “Yeah, I’ve actually thought quite a bit about that.” He smiled sweetly, and Regulus rolled his eyes again. There was something about that gesture that fascinated James. It clearly showed his beauty, and that was something James appreciated. Regulus actually looked really sweet right now, with flushed cheeks and a scowling expression. James had to hold himself back from reaching out and ruffling his hair.

“May I poke you on the nose?”

“God no! What on earth, James? What the hell is wrong with you? Of course you can’t!”

James smiled. Regulus had just said his first name without thinking about it. He had said James and not Potter.

“You just looked so cute!”

A half-choked laugh came from the sofa above them. Evan!

“Cute,” Regulus said flatly. “Do I look cute?”

James nodded eagerly, which apparently wasn’t the right thing to do, for in the next moment, a book was planted right in his face. Regulus had hit him in the head with a book. A book! He grunted and clutched his nose the moment the book left his face. He could feel a warm, sticky fluid flowing out onto his fingers.

“Out now before the blood hits my carpet,” Regulus said calmly, pointing towards the doorway to the hallway.

“But Reg—”

“No ‘buts’, you need to go, and it’s right now!”

“Can I come again? Soon? Please!” James had stumbled back to his feet with a hand pressed against his nose. He wanted so badly to see him again, even though it probably sounded bizarre now that he had just gotten a nosebleed.

“No.”

Wow, how simple he could make things for once!

James mumbled a goodbye and trudged toward the hallway. As he was putting on his jacket, Evan came out. He had a cloth in one hand, which he offered to James. James nodded gratefully and pressed it against his bleeding nose.

“Just take the cloth home; Regulus won’t miss it.”

Regulus won’t miss it? Did that mean Evan didn’t live here? He hoped so.

James grasped the doorknob and pressed it down. He was about to open the door when Evan said, “Come on Tuesday; Reg will be home then. I’ll make sure of it.”

James smiled. Maybe he had just gained a new friend? At least an ally.

Sirius POV:

Sirius ran after Moony. His Moony. They had been out for a walk in the forest when it began to rain. Heavily. The rain poured down in thick sheets, surrounding them like comforting arms, with droplets wrapping themselves around them, filling their hearts with peace. They sprinted through the woods, their wet hair flying around their ears. They ran, hoping to escape the rain, hoping to find their way. They leapt over tree stumps and passed by tree hollows. Sirius laughed—a bright, cheerful laugh that echoed through the forest. It filled the air as though even the rain could sense his joy. His long, black hair stuck to his forehead, soaked through, as he easily leapt over a fallen branch. Ahead of him, Remus was running with just as much energy. Their footsteps echoed on the muddy ground, but the sound was drowned out by the rain pounding on the leaves above. It was as if they were the only ones in the world, enveloped in nature’s chaos.

"Moony!" Sirius called, but his voice was swallowed by the rain drumming against the canopy. Remus glanced briefly over his shoulder, his face lit up with a grin only Sirius knew. It was the kind of smile that always made Sirius run a little faster, stretch a little further—as if he could never get enough of it.

The rain had made the path slippery, but they didn’t mind. Sirius felt his pulse quicken in time with his footsteps. Each time he got closer to Remus, it felt like a small victory. He could see Remus’s shoulders shaking with laughter, and in that moment, nothing else mattered—just the two of them, their breath in the cool air, and the rain, which felt like their own private world.

Suddenly, Remus slipped in the mud, and before he knew it, he had fallen to the ground. Sirius skidded to a stop, staring at his friend, who was lying on his back with his eyes closed but a broad smile on his face.

"Got you," Sirius said triumphantly, bending down and offering Remus a hand. Remus took it, still laughing, and let Sirius pull him up.

"I let you catch me," Remus replied breathlessly, taking a deep breath, as if savouring every moment.

Sirius shrugged, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "Of course you did, Moony. I knew you were too kind to let me lose."

They stood still for a moment, rain running down their faces, staring at each other—soaked, muddy, but full of life. Then Sirius smiled and tugged at Remus’s hand, which he still held. Sirius started walking quickly, as he always did, but Remus held back slightly, slowing the pace so they could take in the surroundings. He knew that despite Sirius’s impatience, he loved these small moments—especially when they shared them together. So, hand in hand, they strolled through the rain, looking up at the treetops. Sirius tugged at Remus’s arm and glanced up at him. The tall boy’s attention was already focused on him.

"Listen, Moony, I’ve got the wildest idea!" Sirius began, as if he couldn’t wait to share his plan. The rain continued to pour down over them, but Sirius’s excitement burned bright like a flame amidst all the wetness. "We should throw the wildest Halloween party! And I don’t mean just a cosy little get-together with some pumpkins and a few candles. No, I’m talking about something that’ll go down in history! Something on a full Black scale."

Remus glanced down at Sirius, unimpressed, and couldn’t help but laugh. "Of course," he said. "It wouldn’t be a bloody party if you didn’t go completely over the top, would it?"

Sirius nudged him playfully with his hip! Such a teasing lad! Sirius laughed and made a grand gesture with his hands. "I’ve already thought about it! I’m going to be a vampire—dramatic, a bit dangerous, but still stylish. And you, Moony, you could be a werewolf. It’d be perfect!"

Remus shook his head with a small smile. "Really, Sirius? You want me to come as a bloody werewolf?"

Sirius nodded and carried on talking. "We’ll have a costume competition, obviously! The one with the best costume wins an amazing prize—maybe a bottle of the finest wine or something even more spectacular. And we’ll be the live band. We’ll play something that’ll get even the shyest people dancing and having fun. It’s going to be legendary, I tell you!"

Remus seemed to be catching some of Sirius’s enthusiasm. He chuckled quietly, and Sirius’s own laughter filled the air. "You know, Moony, that’s why you love me. I can make even the most ordinary things unforgettable."

At his words, Remus stiffened slightly. Sirius didn’t fully understand, but he knew Remus well enough to know not to ask. Remus was upset, and Sirius didn’t like it. He was irritated and just wanted to make it go away. He had an idea.

"Remus," Sirius’s voice was soft, which was part of the plan. He reached up and placed his hand on Remus’s cheek. Remus looked down at Sirius, and he looked up at him. It was all so fragile but then suddenly Sirius shouted in a not-so-gentle tone: "Last one there’s a rotten tomato!" and then he shot off again. He sprinted through the forest, and after a short while, he could feel Remus at his side. The plan had worked. He laughed and picked up speed. He wanted to reach the road. Sirius was better at sprinting, but Remus was better over long distances. Right now, it was all about getting there first! Ahead of him, Sirius could see the road; he just had to make it there before Remus. He could do it! They got closer and closer to the road. Their breathing became more and more frantic, and Sirius could feel sweat forming on his forehead. He wanted to win, he needed to win. The trees they passed blurred together, and the rain didn’t make it any easier for them. Sirius’s laughter mixed with the sound of their footsteps stomping through the slippery mud. He could feel the fresh, cold air against his face as he swung his arms to gain speed. He could see Remus just behind him, his hair plastered to his face, but he wore a wide smile. Sirius couldn’t help but be caught up in the moment.

"You can’t beat me, Moony!" Sirius shouted, pushing himself even harder. His voice was nearly drowned out by the rain’s pounding, but he could sense Remus was close. It was a game, a spontaneous and joyful escape from the greyness of the rainstorm.

40 metres. Sirius was in the lead.

35 metres. Sirius was still in the lead.

20 metres. Remus was right behind him.

15 metres. Remus was by his side.

10 metres. Sirius was a bit ahead of Remus.

5 metres. Sirius was still ahead.

0 metres. Remus came first.

Remus came first!

Remus stood on the road, his chest rising and falling quickly after the run, but his face still bore that calm, teasing smile that Sirius loved but hated at that moment.

"Beaten again, Sirius," Remus said lightly, blowing a rain-soaked lock of hair away from his face.

Sirius stared at him with a mixture of indignation and admiration.

"How did you do it? I was right there!"

Remus shrugged with a crooked grin, as if it had been too easy for him. "Maybe I’ve just got better technique. Or maybe you’re getting slow."

"Slow?" Sirius narrowed his eyes and threw his hands up in a dramatic gesture. "I let you win. Obviously."

Remus’s grin only widened, and he shook his head. "Sure, Sirius. Sure."

Sirius stood there in the rain, staring at Remus, who seemed thoroughly amused by the whole situation. Something about the sight of Remus—wet, smiling, with the rain dripping from his hair and jacket—made Sirius feel something he couldn’t quite put into words. His stomach twisted, but not in an unpleasant way—more like something new and unfamiliar was bubbling up inside him.

But his annoyance was real enough. He hated losing, especially when Remus was so infuriatingly smug about it.

"You’re impossible," Sirius muttered, turning away and flailing his arms in the air as if he could shake it off. The rain still pelted down, soaking his clothes and making his mood sink a bit more.

But Remus just stood there, still with that teasing smile, and took a step towards Sirius. "Come on, you know I’m just teasing you. You’re still the fastest of us... on a good day." He winked.

Sirius couldn’t help but growl slightly, but he wasn’t angry. Remus had that effect on him. Before he knew it, he felt the smile creeping back onto his lips. "You’re lucky, Moony," he said quietly, nudging Remus’s shoulder. "I could’ve easily overtaken you."

Remus took the nudge and nudged back, his gaze still warm and full of humour. "Oh, I’m sure. But admit it, the rain isn’t helping you, is it? Not so good with mud and wet hair."