Chapter 3
The term party is a tradition at Hogwarts, it happens at the start of every school year and James has a love-hate relationship with them. Each year it rotates between houses for location, last year Hufflepuff hosted. James is sure the professors absolutely know about the term parties and just elect to ignore it, but the rest of the student body have a collective agreement to assume they know nothing.
Last year’s term party was an epic one, Hufflepuff tends to throw the best bashes of the school. That was where he and Regulus first hooked up, they were equally intoxicated and they snuck off into a deserted corridor by the kitchens and… let’s just leave it with James receiving a nice gift.
The year before, when Ravenclaw hosted in James’ fifth year, that was one James hated. It wasn’t anything to do with the party, per se, just how he was doing at that time. Fifth year was a difficult year for James, but he had his friends and he trusted them. He had Remus looking out for him, like a guardian angel over his shoulder, catching him when he came crashing down after climbing too high.
Needless to say, as much as James likes parties, and attends as many as he can, he hasn’t always had the best track record. This year, he finds himself wallowing in anxieties for tonight. Gryffindor’s hosting this year, which can be good and bad. The good being if need be, he could just retreat to his dorm easily. But the bad… James doesn’t really want to think on the possible bads this year. He wants to be positive. But wanting to be positive does nothing to ease the pit in his stomach.
Remus is sat next to him at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, gently nudging him and gesturing towards his plate still full of untouched food. With his anxiety gnawing at his insides, he couldn’t even bring himself to lift a fork to his mouth, even if it was something harmless like small chunks of fruit. Oh, his mother would be force feeding him at this point. Remus is nicer about it.
“Oi, J, you gotta eat, mate.” James shook his head, his arms crossing over each other on the table. All he could do was stare at the food. “Did you take your meds, Prongs?” Sirius asked, “you know Effie will have something to say about it if you didn’t.”
“I’m fine, Sirius,” James said, flashing a quick smile. He tried so hard not to look back down at the plate. The full, untouched plate that was currently haunting him. “Yeah, but did you take them? Remember what happened in the summer when you didn’t? Effie—”
“Sirius!” Remus cut in, “he’s fine.” James felt relieved that Remus stepped in. Listen, it’s not that he doesn’t love Sirius, he does, they’re best friends. They feel more like brothers, sometimes. But Sirius has this tendency to want to prove he could be a good kid, and when he moved in with James, that need grew more with Effie and Monty. Sirius wanted to constantly prove to them that he was good, that he could be worthy of their love.
It didn’t matter how many times James tried to tell him he never needed to prove himself worthy, he did anyway. Recently, it seems, that showed through trying to make sure James was alright. He thinks maybe in Sirius’ mind, helping to take care of James would prove him to Effie and Monty —again, regardless of the amount of times James told him he didn’t need to.
This summer was a lot of ‘did you take your meds?’ ‘are you feeling alright?’ ‘what’s on your mind?’ blah blah blah. James is fine. He’s fine. A part of him, though, started feeling as if he couldn’t express when he was feeling happy or when he was feeling down because it somehow always looped back to his medication. He’s fine. Why does everyone think the opposite?
“Te haré un trato, por cada dos piezas de fruta que comas, es un desafío que haré esta noche sin lugar a dudas,” Remus said, and James started eating without another word.
(“I will make you a deal, for every two pieces of fruit you eat, is one dare I will do tonight without question.”)
James was silently glad Remus spoke in Spanish. A part of him knew that if it was said in English, Sirius would eat that up, try to get James to eat everything on the plate for the sake of making Remus do something stupid tonight. Listen, this is nothing against Sirius, it’s just that he hasn’t relaxed in his troublemaking tendencies as much as James and Remus have. Now, of course, they still get up to quite a fair bit, but it is more tame than it was when they were eleven, or twelve, or thirteen… you get the idea.
Keeping this deal between the two of them helps James to feel in control of what he eats. If he only wants to eat four pieces, he doesn’t have to feel pressured to have more because someone else wants Remus to do more dares tonight.
“¿Quieres hablar más tarde o ignorarlo por ahora y drogarte más esta noche?” Remus asked, a small smirk landing on his lips. Really, James is shocked he even needs to ask, the answer to that question will always be the latter. “Preferiría ignorarlo y hacer el viaje de mi vida esta noche,” James answered easily before popping a chunk of cantaloupe in his mouth, “tipo de querer llegar lo suficientemente alto me olvido de él,” he shrugs, “al menos por unas horas.”
(“Do you want to talk later or ignore it for now and get extra high tonight?”
“I would prefer to ignore it and have the trip of my life tonight,”
“Kind of want to get high enough I forget about him, at least for a few hours.”)
Remus laughed, “oh don’t you worry, we will be,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. James put his fork down and cleared his throat. “Alright, that’s six pieces of fruit eaten, which is three dates for tonight,” James said proudly, crossing his arms on the table, “Pete, care to remind everyone of the rules?”
Rules of the dares were something the four friends created back in third year. Before the first party of the year, they have a refresher to make certain each of them know boundaries, they’ve changed and developed over the years, but the premise tends to stay the same. The rules go as follows; nothing that could put themselves or others in harm's way, nothing that could expose themselves or others —originally made for Remus, but it applies to each of them just the same—, no dare that could come off as harassment of any kind towards another student.
Sirius groaned as Peter wrapped up the refresher. Peter was all smiles, it wasn’t that he was a stickler of rules, but he was the Marauder who kept the notebook where they wrote all their rules and agreements in his school bag. He had excitedly pulled it out and opened it to the page title ‘dares’ and rattled them off.
James knows that sometimes Peter feels like he has nothing to contribute to the friend group —which is ridiculous considering you don’t need to contribute something just to be friends with people, friendship doesn’t have to be this ordeal of exchanges, that’s not the thing that should matter. Nevertheless, Peter sometimes feels as though he’s just a lurker, watching the three of them from the outside. James knows this, which is why he had suggested that Peter get to be in charge of the notebook.
He likes remembering, he likes keeping track of things, he likes knowing the rules of something, and he likes having that information for him and his friends. Being the one with the notebook gives him an extra assurance that he is in fact a member of the group.
Sirius, on the other hand, hates rules. “Talk about bubble wrapped challenges, it just makes it so boring! It’s playing it safe,” He complained, same as every year, like it’s tradition, “where’s the risk?” Sirius said, holding his arms open and looking around the Great Hall in dramatics simply to make his point. As if to say, ‘where is it? I don’t see it’. “And what’s this whole fruit thing, now?”
James and Remus shared a look before turning back to the other two Marauders across the table. “I made a deal with James that every two pieces of fruit is a dare he can give me at tonight’s party,” Remus answered him. James grinned as he took a swig of his water, his eyes unintentionally drifting back to the Slytherin table where Regulus sat with Evan at his side. They were talking with him while curled into a groggy-looking Barty. James thought they were cute together, Evan and Barty, they just seemed so enamoured by each other, and James can only wish to have that himself, one day.
It seemed Marlene was the only girl in the Gryffindor friend group awake at the moment, sitting at the Slytherin table with Dorcas. Marlene and Dorcas having found each other is something James couldn’t be happier about. They had been dancing around one another for nearly two years, having meaningless flings and escapades with students to avoid confessing the truth.
The truth of how absolutely mad they were for each other.
Marlene and Dorcas finally got together last year, and since then every morning they trade off which table to sit at. If they sit with the Gryffindors on Monday, then it’s the Slytherins on Tuesday. Marlene was essentially indoctrinated into the Slytherin group just the same as Dorcas was with the Marauders.
“So six pieces of fruit equals to three dares,” Peter reiterated, “pretty good deal, honestly.” James heard him say this, but try as he might, he couldn’t pull his eyes away from Regulus.
Did he always look this beautiful in the morning? Did he look even more ethereal when he’s just woken up? James never saw him sleeping the past times they hooked up, Regulus had always retreated back to the dungeons, he never lingered. God, how could one human be so beautiful? Did Regulus even know how beautiful he was?
“Only three dares? That’s so bland, Prongs, that’ll be done so fast,” Sirius whined, “should’ve been more, like at least six.”
“Well it’s not up to you, Sirius, suck it up,” Remus bit out.
Regulus glanced up, his stunning blue eyes meeting James’ gaze. Catching his stare threw James off-guard, having him accidentally inhale his water and begin to choke and cough, forcing him to break the eye contact he so desperately had wanted to keep. He felt a hand patting his back as he continued coughing, followed by Remus softly laughing.
“Lily was right, you really are helpless.”
“Hey!”
“Of course I was right, I’m always right.” James startled as he heard her voice beside him, when did she even enter the Great Hall? Was he really that captivated by Regulus that his surroundings escaped his notice? It wouldn’t be the first time, if that was the case.
“When did you get here?” Peter asked. Oh, so he didn’t see them come either, not just James. Lily sat down next to him, and Mary and Alice found spots across from them. “Like thirty seconds ago,” Lily said, shrugging. “Long enough to hear James is helpless and see him cough his lungs up,” Marlene teased, having left the Slytherin table to join them. Dorcas and her sat together across from Remus. She didn’t even know why he had begun choking on water. All she knew was that she could make fun of him. James didn’t mind.
Marlene was like James’ pseudo sister… or cousin. Maybe more like pseudo cousins, that would make more sense. During holiday breaks and summer vacation, Marlene uses her parents’ flu network to appear in the Potter’s living room and spend the day with James –usually makes jokes throughout the day about being attracted to his mother which he’s starting to believe isn’t a joke anymore.
She would come by and they would play games all day long, run around the backyard, make their way into town from where his house was in the countryside and find Peter, annoy him a little bit. Holidays have always been fun with the two of them. Marlene and Peter gave James such a strong sense of family while living in England, away from his Abuela and his Tía’s and Tío’s.
“Alright, our final start of term party tonight lads! How we feeling? Hmm, feeling good?” Marlene said in a sing-songy voice, her eyes twinkling with excitement. “As long as James here doesn’t get me expelled, I’m feeling good,” Remus joked with a smile.
“Or try to hook up with someone he shouldn’t,” Sirius muttered into his drink. It was more of a stage-mutter, he meant for James to hear it.
Before anyone could respond to Sirius, a presence at the top of the hall cleared their throat. Their heads turned to see Professor McGonagall standing at the podium with Headmaster Dumbledore and Professor Colibiri —the muggle studies teacher— standing on either side of her. Clearing her throat caught the attention of every student in the Great Hall, ending conversations to listen to her. “After yesterday’s turn of events, we have decided to implement a new class this year,” Professor McGonagall started, “starting tomorrow, everyone whose name was on that map will be enrolled in a course to teach you about—”
James couldn’t hear the rest, his brain started feeling fuzzy. It was like there was static in his ears and try as he might, no thought could cross him. He came up empty each time. McGonagall’s words sounded like faint echoes trying to break through the static.
The static finally cleared enough to hear groans of protest from students at every table and the last piece of information McGonagall had.
“And letters will be sent home to the parents and guardians of every student involved.”
James’ heart sank. Not for himself, not for Remus, or Peter, not for Sirius, he didn’t need to worry about his parents anymore. James’ heart sank for Regulus. Sirius may be free from the tyrannical Black family, but Regulus isn’t. Regulus is still in that house. That prison.
Professor McGonagall walked down the length of the hall, down the length of the Gryffindor table. “Professor, you can’t do that!” Lily exclaimed, “most of us were already outed by that map, sending letters to our families would be outing us a second time, you can’t do that!”
James didn’t stay to hear the rest, he ran from the hall. He was walking frantically down corridors, he wasn’t sure where he was trying to go, and his name was called by the one voice that could make him do anything.
Spinning around, there was Regulus nearly skidding to a stop in front of him. He was huffing like he had just run a mile, had he been chasing after James this whole time? How was he this beautiful even out of breath? His robes are messed up from running, his tie is crooked, and yet, his hair remains perfect and he still looks like a masterpiece. James sucked in a sharp breath, “you know you might be the only student wearing house robes the day before classes,” he said, in a way to hopefully ease the panic in his chest.
Although, who was he kidding? That panic began dissipating the moment he saw Regulus. Like he could make any feeling evaporate by just a smile on his face. Or just saying his name. Oh, how it sounds beautiful when he says his name.
“Why are you freaking out? What, you think your parents are going to care? You’re not the one who has to worry about parents!” Regulus spat out, but even then, James could hear his own fear in his voice. His own panic brewing in his center. “I’m not freaking out about me, I’m freaking out for you!” James exclaimed, “she can’t send those letters, I mean that has to be some kind of violation, right?”
Regulus’ face changed then, it went from an expression James could read easily, to one he was scared to, and he couldn’t wait here to know just how much Regulus despised him right now. So he left.
Regulus was furious. Who was James to be worried about him? James has no right to worry over how his parents will take this news. Oh, he is terrified about how his parents will take this. Sirius doesn’t have to worry anymore, he ran. He abandoned Regulus to deal with them on his own.
One sense of comfort is knowing his parents have too much pride to send a howler. They would never yell in public, they’re smart enough to keep all their abuse behind closed doors and inside quiet rooms. Sending a howler would be a humiliation on them and oh they cannot allow that.
Regulus must be the perfect little heir. That was drilled into him this summer. He can already hear their scolding in his head. ‘These atrocious acts of yours are an abomination to our family name’. He can hear it in his mother’s perfectly posh tone that feels like someone is taking Regulus’ head to a cheese grater with how it scratches his mind in all the wrong ways.
God forbid Regulus have a chance to be who he is inside the castle walls, God forbid he indulge himself while he can without his mother breathing down his neck. That will be taken away from him now. She will probably find a way to keep tabs on him at all times.
Whoever made that map better hope they can run faster than Regulus.
The corridors back to the Slytherin Commons felt endless and torturous. All he wanted to do was crawl back into his bed and remain there for at least 10 business days. Maybe more. Except he can’t, because he stupidly promised Evan he’d go to the term party tonight, and Regulus hates breaking promises with them.
Evan was the first friend Regulus made at Hogwarts. They went through everything together, understanding the harsh realities of their snobby parents with their Pureblood mania and dark magic obsessions and beliefs. They came out to each other together, they came out to Barty together. At those stupid and pretentious Pureblood balls they were forced to attend, Regulus and Evan would sneak out and run through whatever meadow or forest they were near at the time —Pandora would occasionally go with them, but she did tend to like listening in on conversations and filling them in on the gossip later.
Regulus has never broken a promise he made with Evan, and he isn’t about to start tonight, unfortunately. Especially since that means essentially entering the lion’s den that is Gryffindor Tower. Typically, Regulus hated parties, found them to be a waste of time if he’s honest, but there were intervals of time where he enjoyed them. Granted, they were never ones hosted by Gryffindor, but that may also be because he tends to avoid them as best he can.
Did he really need to see his brother living the life he wanted as well? See Sirius feeling happy and free? Feeling the way Regulus desperately wanted for himself? No, he did not need to see that.
The Slytherin Common Room was empty when he returned, save for maybe two stragglers who decided to either skip breakfast or go later.
Regulus detests the Commons, everything is at the utmost elegance, all shiny and perfect. Nothing can be out of place, there are no dents in the pillars, or the walls, there are no tears in the couches, no indentations of well-loved places to sit. There are no signs of life. The Slytherin Commons are a void of green and silver accessories. Knick knacks that his parents would believe hold immense significance but are actually something Regulus feels he could probably find in some dingy small town Muggle pawn shop.
It’s cold, the atmosphere. Cold and dry. Bland. There is no comfort or solace to be found, there is no laughter, no joy, no emotion to feel. The minimal windows that sit near the top of the walls barely provide light to give the room warmth. They are stained-glass mosaics, albeit beautiful, but unnecessary. Slytherin’s are the only ones who can see them anyway, they aren’t visible from outside, the Black Lake sits in its way, coating the windows with water.
Regulus hates the Commons. He hates the water. Did he have to be sorted to the only house situated under the water? He feels like he’s drowning every second he spends in there. His dorm room is different. In fourth year he got to move into the boy’s dorm with Evan and Barty, the three spent roughly four days decking the dorm out in posters and photos and paintings. Anything to make the room feel more like a home. Within those dormitory walls, there is a home. There are signs of life.
Within those dormitory walls, Regulus doesn’t feel like a ghost haunting Slytherin house, floating through his time at Hogwarts and feeling a sense of impending doom looming over him in the form of his parents' impossible expectations.
Within those dormitory walls, he can finally breathe, compared to the feeling he needs to hold his breath in the Common Room in an attempt to not swallow the water. He can exhale. In his dorm room, he can breathe.
He collapsed on his bed and yanked the covers over his head, blocking out all light and noise. If he could stay like this for a while, that would be a blessing.
Staying under his covers, he could let the air grow stale and allow it to suffocate him. It’s the only time Regulus doesn’t want to breathe. At least then, he wouldn’t have to hear any more scoldings from his parents. At least then, he’d be free from it.
No such luck. Evan ripped the covers off while towering over him at his bedside. Regulus squinted as he readjusted to the minimal light provided to the dorm.
“Get up, you’ve been sleeping for hours.”
No he hasn’t, it’s only been a handful of minutes, he swears. But then he looks to the window and through the obscure water he can see the golden hues of a sunset, followed by a frustrated rumble of his stomach indicating he hadn’t eaten since breakfast… hours ago.
“You need to eat something and… maybe shower?” Evan jokingly plugged his nose before breaking into a wide smile, “come on, we’re grabbing dinner then getting ready, chop chop.”
Regulus groaned, grabbing the covers and pulling them back over his head. It may be a bit dramatic, the way he does it, but he finds he doesn’t care. He doesn’t want to move.
“Reg! You’ve been sleeping since breakfast, you can’t possibly be tired!” Evan exclaimed, “lève-toi ou je dis à Potter que tu veux le baiser à nouveau.”
Regulus groaned again, “ce ne serait pas complètement faux.”
(“Get up or I’m telling Potter you want to fuck him again.”
“Wouldn’t be completely false.”)
“Get up!”
“Okay! I’m up!”
He forced himself up out of his bed. His incredibly soft, comfy bed he wishes could just swallow him whole so he never has to leave. Evan and Barty are ushering him out the door, Evan won’t let him turn back. They keep pushing him forward or grabbing his arm and pulling him along.
Down in the Great Hall, his eyes instantly latch to his brother, laughing wholeheartedly with Remus and Peter and James and Marlene and all his stupid friends that make Regulus sick with want. He wanted that. Regulus loves his friends, he adores Pandora, he loves Evan, he cares deeply for Dorcas and he, unfortunately, likes Barty, but there is a part of him that longs for what his brother has.
There is a part of him, what Regulus thinks is some sick part of him, that wants what Sirius has. He wants to know what is so good about his life compared to Regulus. What was so good he abandoned his brother? What was so perfect and better that he traded his blood brother for James?
What did those stupid Gryffindor’s have that Regulus didn’t? What did James have that Regulus didn’t? What did James have that was so captivating that Sirius left him behind?
What were they saying that was so funny? It makes Regulus sick.
Dinner was torturous, having to hear the laughter from two tables away, not to mention every time he so much as glanced up, he was met with James Potter’s gaze.
Regulus hates everything about tonight, and tonight has, unfortunately, barely even started for him.