Début de l'Été
James arrived on a hot day in mid-June, one of the sort where you could feel the sun shining onto your skin and soaking in, all the way to the soul. The days previous had been nice, but this one held a particular precious and dream-like quality to it. Even when experiencing it for the first time, it felt like you were living through a day that you knew you’d never forget. Everybody felt it, even the mean old cat, Pepper, stood guard at one of the towering front windows. It was like she was waiting.
The chateau was warm. The early summer air breezed through the halls through open windows and the sun bathed every room in the southern French countryside sunshine. Alphard was determined to make spaces as cozy as they were chic and effortless. He’d lived in this house since the early 60’s, and over the years had collected the most exquisite antique furniture to fill every room. He’d told them all, when they were children, that what interested him more than any visual aesthetics was the energy that came off of his things. He made them crouch and put their ear up to the newly acquired couches, chairs, and tables to tell them what they felt. Regulus, even at that age, didn’t have much as far as an imagination. He usually just complained about the smell of old people and dust. Sirius grinned widely and jumped up and down when he claimed to feel true love radiating off of the new chess table. Alphard had been proud.
“Very good, Sirius. This table belonged to very, very special people. I think you’re right about true love.”
The day James arrived found Regulus sat, bored, on the reading nook across from the chess table. He had his knees folded up to his chest, crossing his arms in front of them, and scowled at it. Sensing an object and any feelings associated with it was complete hogwash, there was no proof, nothing that indicated it was real or possible. It perplexed him how Sirius always seemed to be right. Maybe Alphard was lying. Whatever the case was, it never failed to make Regulus peeved when he thought about it too hard.
So he sat and eventually tried to read. He was trying not to get anxious. He typically hated Alphard’s students. Nine times out of ten they were stuck up, know-it-all Brits with no respect for a precedent. They always ruined plans, threw off the house dynamics, talked too loudly; you name it. Sirius loved having them, but that was mostly due to the fact that it was easier to get into trouble with a guest around. Alphard was busy with mentor duties, and even when he did catch Sirius trouble-making, he was always made softer and more lenient by his enthrallment in his summer work. It had him in jollier than average moods. Sirius always liked to meet new people, too, and sometimes he even befriended the students. This one student, Peter, who’d spent summer there a couple years back, was more reserved than usual. Sirius found him hilarious. He’d really brought Peter out of his shell over the months, bringing him around to see the sights and party whenever his studies allowed it. That year had been even more unbearable than usual for Regulus. He’d never liked Peter and he suspects Peter never liked him.
He was reading when he heard a car pull into the driveway and three doors being swung shut. Sirius’s voice rang out muffled, growing louder as they approached the front door.
“Our home has two small and angry guardians. They both hate strangers, are always watching, and always judging you. Try not to mind them, and let them approach you first!” Sirius clapped James on the back, shuffling behind him to enter the house first. Regulus rolled his eyes, shutting his book and setting it down. He didn’t have the energy to pretend to care about meeting the new student. He left his book behind and escaped up the stairs.
“I thought you only had one cat, Professor.” James questioned Alphard as he walked in, a duffle bag in each hand.
“Yes,” Alphard sighs, exasperated. “Sirius is joking. He refers to Pepper, and my other nephew, Regulus.” Alphard smiled despite himself. James gave a small laugh. He walked through the entry room to a sitting room where Sirius had unceremoniously flopped on his back onto a reading nook built into one of the walls.
Sirius Black had midnight black hair and stark gray eyes. He had girlish looks, with long curled eyelashes, shoulder-length hair, and a smaller frame. He didn’t look anything like a girl, however, his broad shoulders making way for muscle that was neither too much or too little. His jawline cut in a handsome way. James was not above admitting he was an attractive man. More so, even, was his larger-than-life personality that was quick to smile and even quicker to a joke. He had a French type of looseness to his body, slinging his arms around James, and kissing both of his cheeks to say hello when they’d first met. James wished that people were as affectionate back home in England. He loved it. Sirius, on the drive to the chateau, gave him a rundown of all the fun things to do around the grounds as well as in town, which was just a 20 minute bike ride away. Sirius bragged that on his motorbike, he could get there in five minutes.
In the car they had talked about France, which before now James had only ever been to once, with his parents years and years ago. Sirius raved about the cities he loved and hated, the must-see locations, and his favorite patisserie in all of the country (he always got the dulce de leche croissant). They talked about England, too. Sirius shared that he’d studied abroad there from 16 to 18, and loved it. He still had loads of friends there that he wrote to. James told Sirius how he’d spent most of his younger years in England, before moving to America when he was 16. Apparently, they’d just missed each other, both living in London during their own times.
James liked studying in England, because he had this blurry nostalgia for everything and could look past the dreary weather and bland food that people always complained about. He talked about his friends from university, and how one of them lived in France part-time that he’d like to see sometime this summer. Sirius insisted he tag-along with James to meet them, and he happily agreed.
It was easy with Sirius. They got on swimmingly. Alphard had let them get on for most of the drive while he drove the car, staying quiet except to laugh when James or Sirius said something especially funny. Sirius made James sad that he never had a brother growing up, because surely it felt a bit like this. The longer they talked, the more his fondness grew for Sirius Black.
(Secretly, Alphard let himself hope that James might keep Sirius out of trouble. It was a pipe dream.)
“Ouch,” Sirius struggled, pulling something out from underneath him. “Regulus and his bloody books, I swear, they trail behind him like crumbs. You could forget he’s around sometimes if he didn’t leave these everywhere he goes. Where is that kid, anyways?” He called out that last bit to Alphard, who was standing in the doorway behind James.
“He’s around, I'm sure. Leave his book there, you know he’ll come back looking for it once we clear out.” Alphard looked out the window to the picturesque day.
“Like a cat.” James commented, amused.
“Like a cat.” Sirius echoed, and James might have thought Sirius was making fun of his brother, but there was a sort of undertone of endearment in his voice that made James smile.
He breathed in the grand house–no, chateau–and looked around at all of the pictures and decor. A vast amount was paintings, but a few family photos were scattered around in old frames. The photos showed the children, assumingly Sirius and his brother, Regulus, at no age younger than 11 or so. They were all taken there at the chateau. The one exception James could see was beside the window and showed the three of them at a beach, Sirius caught in a sprint in the background running toward the camera smiling, and Regulus closer to the camera giving a much smaller smile. They looked to be in their early teenage years. James liked how in that one it felt like you were there with them.
James crossed the room, picking up the book Sirius had placed to the side where it didn’t inhibit his comfortable sprawl over the cushions. The book was a collection of Mme. D’Aulnoy’s fairy tales, and a dogear marked a story towards the end of the book. James read the title, L'Oranger et l’Abeille. He personally loved Perrault, who he fancied to think of as Mme. D'Aulnoy’s counterpart. Some saw them as opposing forces. Different, but equally passionate about the same matters. They loved their fairy tales in different ways. Each of their works bloomed even more beautifully for it.
James found himself excited to meet this person.
Regulus, he tested in his head. It was an odd name, though perhaps not odder than Sirius. James had never really taken to astronomy; he was much too busy learning about everything that had, did, would, and could happen on Earth.
“He won’t miss lunch. You’ll meet him then.” Sirius assured him, popping off of the cushions to his feet.
“Very well, then. Where should I put my bags?” James held up his duffle bags with a grin, excited to see more of the house. From here, he could see a magnificent staircase with a gilded bannister and tiled fronts to each stair. It reminded him of Spanish tiling, but the colors and style was distinctively nothing he had seen before. He made a mental note to ask the professor about them later.
“Follow me, guest of honor!” Sirius clapped his hands together, and led the way to the tiled stairs.
The second story had a long hallway with doors lining each side. The art was magnificent. Romantic oil portraits, marble busts, and small artifacts that were more than likely priceless lined the walls and hall tables. One of the doors that Sirius seemed to be heading toward opened slightly, then after a moment of being open, shut again with a decisive thunk.
“Reg! Nope, I know you’re there. Come out here.” Sirius called after him, snapping James out of his all-consuming awe of the artworks.
“Je ne vais pas bien, laissez-moi tranquille.” A mellow voice called back, deadpan. It was the kind of voice that showcased the true beauty of the French language.
“I’m sorry you aren’t feeling good, Reg. Maybe some good ol’ social interaction will perk you up.” Sirius replied, rolling his eyes to James.
“It’s alright, Sirius, I wouldn’t want to put anybody out. I’ll meet him at Lunch.” James offered. Regulus didn’t respond. Sirius huffed.
“Yes, yes, well you better be packing up in there. We’re coming in.” Sirius waited for the shuffle of his brother’s feet. A door shut quietly from inside the room. Sirius then pushed open the door, revealing a modest sized bedroom. It was cozy and lived in, which James was delighted by. The bed was made perfectly, corners tucked in tight and blankets methodically folded. The pillows looked so fluffy…
Before James could even think to appear grateful and polite, the hours of travel set in and he collapsed onto the bed after dropping the duffle bags at the foot of the bed. His eyes felt so heavy, lulling him to give into sleep.
“Seems about right. You were a good sport for staying awake for the drive here, anyways,” Sirius laughed. “Lunch is in two hours. Regulus is one room over. You’ll have to share a bathroom, sorry. This is his room, usually, but it’s yours for the summer.” He explained.
“Thank you, Sirius. It’s all perfect. This bed is heaven, truly.” James turned his head lazily to look at him as he spoke.
“Yes, my brother’s old full mattress is practically fit for royalty.” Sirius grinned, leaving after flicking the lights off.
James slept hard.
He only woke to the sound of somebody in the room and a door creaking shut. James shifted to regard them. His eyesight was shit, and he fumbled for the glasses that had been scattered carelessly somewhere on the bed. When he found them, Regulus Black came into focus. They stared at each other for a beat.
James studied him like he studied art. The first thing that caught James was Regulus’s nose. He was looking at him at a three quarter angle where James couldn’t help but admire it, grecian, with a small bony bump halfway down. It harmonized with the rest of his face like a beautiful sonata. Regulus had (what he was now realizing was signature for the Black family) gray eyes. Where Sirius's were sharp siren-like, Regulus instead had big and bright eyes that started right back at James. He looked wide awake despite the smoking of purplish-red around his eyelids; it was perfectly human of him. It made his eyes stand out especially so. He had freckles; not a million dotted wash of them, but instead small, dark ones that looked closer to paint splatters across his face and arms.
Where Regulus lacked bulk he made up for in a toned, sleek physique. He was wearing a white button up with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows. There was no undershirt, and with the top couple of buttons undone, James could see a bit of his lightly freckled bare chest. Regulus didn’t feel quite real.
“Hello. I’m James,” James started, breaking the heavy silence in the darkened room. “Je m’appelle James.” He added, suddenly paranoid that Regulus didn’t speak English and he’d just assumed. Regulus seemed to be thinking.
“This is my only way out.” Regulus said flatly, in English. James mentally sighed in relief. His French was okay at best. Regulus’s English was great. He had the tinges of a lilting French accent, but only noticeable if you—like James—clung onto words like they were magic. It was hard not to when studying phonetics and language.
“What do you mean?” James looked confused.
“The guest room I'm staying in is only accessible through your room. I’ll have to walk through this one to get in and out.” He said. Without the muffle of a door, James could hear the quality of his voice much better. It had a certain smooth timbre to it, where you could tell he’d have a good singing voice without having to hear him sing.
“Right, yes. This is your room, right? It’s a great room.” James nodded in understanding, adjusting himself to sit up and face him properly.
“Yes.” Regulus said shortly.
“I like what you’ve done with the space.” James looked at the wall behind Regulus. It had a mural of a lake scene.
The mural was a credit to whoever had painted it, with decisive brush strokes and colors that danced together. The other walls were a powder blue, but here in the dark you wouldn’t be able to tell they weren’t white. The furniture had the same antique nature as the rest of the house did. There were multiple quilted throw blankets, one folded over the end of the bed, and another two folded tidily and sitting on a shelf below the bedside table. There was a chair in the corner with some books piled on top that looked like it could be a hundred years old. The desk, tucked up next to the bed in the far corner, was neatly organized, books lining the back and a pen sitting perfectly next to a blank piece of staff paper. The lamp was gilded with a gold gooseneck that let you bend it around to get it shining at whatever angle you wished. You’d only need to use the light in the evening, though, because there was a huge window beside the desk that, had the curtains not been drawn, light would be pouring into right about now. It looked like a nice place to work.
“I spend a lot of time here,” Regulus replied, then changed the subject. “Lunch is ready.”
“Um– I’m still exhausted, do you mind covering for me with your uncle?” James smiled, hoping he wasn’t coming off terribly arrogant as his whole body begged to lay back down. Regulus did not smile back.
“Whatever.” Regulus said, leaving the room. James flopped back in the bed, actually getting far enough to get under the blankets this time.
“Later!” James called after Regulus. He gave James a look before slipping through the door, shutting it with a small click.
He got a very overdue night of sleep, deep and dreamless.
Regulus had no opinion of James. He seemed fine. It could be worse. It had been worse before. They had stared at each other for a good ten seconds up in Regulus’s room. He liked somebody who could live in silence, and didn’t jump to fill it. James immediately countered the points gained there, though, by skipping lunch. Regulus found that exceptionally rude. It was his welcoming meal. Kreacher had prepared for it. Instead, himself, Sirius, and Uncle Alphard ate their lunch together like normal. So, really, Regulus didn’t mind at all. Maybe James would stick entirely to himself and not bother his familiar routine with his family, their carefully crafted balance they’ve built over the years.
“So… James?” Sirius started, wiggling his eyebrows.
“He’s a nice boy. Smart as they make them, too. He’s the first double major I've invited.” Alphard said, taking a sandwich from the tray at the center.
“Him and I are going to have loads and loads of fun this summer, I reckon.” Sirius bounced his leg excitedly under the table, peeling an orange. Alphard scowled at Sirius, which made him throw his hands up in surrender. Once Sirius looked away, Regulus caught his uncle smiling to himself.
“I met him. Upstairs, on my way down.” Regulus said, nonchalant. Sirius leaned forward in interest.
“What’d you think, Reg?”
“Don’t call me Reg, and I'll tell you,” He shot back bitterly. Sirius didn’t move, still waiting for him to go on and give his first impression. No matter how much venom he loaded his words with, Sirius never backed off. It was their dynamic. Regulus rolled his eyes. “I don’t know yet.”
“You don’t know? Alphard, do you hear him? I thought Reggie here knew everything!” Sirius acted like he could faint from shock, the sarcastic bastard. Regulus threw a peel of his own orange he was working on at Sirius’s face. Sirius tried to dodge, but it hit him on the cheek and he looked back at his brother smiling.
“Shut up, Sirius. I do. I’ve just barely spoken to him, yet, is all. He was still tired.” Regulus said.
“It was a long day of travel for him. He’d come from New York.” Alphard commented.
“New York? God, the music scene there is so cool. Did you know–” Sirius started going on about venues and indie bands, then, something Regulus had heard about a hundred times. He could recite all of the facts right back to Sirius at this point. Instead, Regulus thought about James. This summer was going to be interesting.