Little Talks
Regulus shoots awake with a gasp. He’s cold and sweaty; he shivers in the dungeon air. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are teary. His hands scrunch the bed covers in an effort to ground himself; he’s here, not there.
He’s shaking.
The memory had come to him when he was asleep, hazy at first. Then he was frozen with terror as though he’d just been thrown into a pool of ice-cold water, with no warning. The pain comes rushing back, the sick feeling. His head hurts and so does his chest.
His heart was beating so fast.
The thing about a nightmare that always comforted Regulus was that they weren’t real. The monsters under the bed? They didn’t exist. But these ones did. A memory, somehow just as clear and painful as the first time it happened.
He had to go through it once already. Why wasn’t that enough?
“Regulus?” Barty. His voice is hoarse from sleep, gentler than Regulus has ever heard it before.
“Yeah, I – uh-” He swallows, composes himself. “Sorry, I’m going for a walk.”
There’s a noise of acceptance from Barty. He leaves.
He walks through the halls of the castle, he’s cold and shivering. He feels like a ghost, pale and cold. And already dead. It’s early morning but still dark and the corridors are empty; Regulus reckons even Filch has taken a break from terrorising the students.
The soft glow from the moon shines in through the castle’s windows, it’s gentle and oddly comforting. He makes his way up staircase after staircase after staircase, till he gets to the top of the castle.
The astronomy tower.
He walks over to the edge and peers over – it’s a sudden drop to cliffs and the lake. It makes him feel sick, instead he looks upwards. It’s a clear night and the stars are visible to him, beautiful doodles in the sky, stories for everyone. They all shine so bright. Even him.
There’s a shuffling noise behind him, he swivels and pulls his wand out. A perfectly reasonable response if you asked Regulus. It was James.
His eyes were comically wide in shock, a hand frozen midway through his hair; which is impossibly messier than normal. His glasses are sitting crooked on his face. He sees it’s only Regulus and clearly doesn’t believe he’s a threat, he yawns and rubs his eyes. Regulus feels a need to hex him now just to prove that he would.
“Re – Regulus,” James says through a yawn, “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
“Couldn’t sleep,” Regulus grumbles.
“Me either.”
They stand in a comfortable silence. They’re both at the railing staring up at the sky, it’s nice. He feels warm. His hand is shaking, but less than it was before.
They spend the next three hours there not speaking. Regulus sits reading a book; James smirks at that. James just sits there, thinking, picking at loose threads of his jumper. Regulus thought he was simply bored, but he seemed so enveloped in his thoughts, mind racing. Regulus left him to it.
The silence is broken by James. Surprisingly. “Breakfast is in an hour.”
Regulus nods, and starts to get up, stretching out his stiff limbs. The stone floor is not comfortable.
Regulus nods him farewell and offers the boy a small smile; James’ face lights up. “Hey, Regulus,” James says, catching up with him, “Hey, Reg, wait!”
Regulus rolls his eyes but waits. “Let me walk you back.”
Regulus snorts and immediately covers his mouth with his hand. He settles, instead, for a glower. “Potter, I am not a damsel in distress, I think,” Regulus cocks his head to the side, “That I can make my way back to my dorm, on my own.”
“What’s a ‘damsel’?” James asks, looking severely confused. “And why is it in distress?”
Regulus looks up at James shaking his head, “It’s a muggle thing, Potter.” James gives him a curious look at that. The same one he gave him before the Summer when Regulus asked James for help to get Sirius out.
It’s like his unfolding parts of the puzzle that were previously hidden to him. Like he’s discovered something so beautiful as surprising where he hadn’t expected to.
Uncomfortable, Regulus clears his throat and continues, “Either way, Potter, my point still stands. I can find my own house; all the evidence backs it up.”
James nodded, “I think I’ll walk you anyway.”
“No, you won’t,” Regulus calls over his shoulder already walking away. James follows.
“You’re like a puppy,” Regulus tells the boy, “You’re just following me around. It’s creepy. Don’t you have any friends?”
“I’m not following you; you just walk annoyingly fast.”
“Yeah, that’s me trying to get away from you.”
James laughs, and Regulus glows a little bit brighter.
They reach the dungeons still talking; It’s mostly Regulus insulting James and James clearly thinking he’s joking and laughing at it.
“Here you go,” James says, “Home, safe and sound.”
Regulus rolls his eyes but offers a small smile to James, “However would I have made it here without you.”
James smiles at him, softly. “You’re welcome.”
Regulus raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t thank you,” he deadpans.
“You will, it just takes time for people to realise what an awesome friend I am.”
“We are not friends, Potter,” Regulus calls after him, but he’s already turned the corner. “We’re not friends!”
“I can’t hear you!”
He leaves Regulus standing in the dungeon a strange warmth in his chest.
He meets James in the astronomy tower the next three nights. It’s always the same. They sit in silence for the night; enjoying each other’s company. Then, James walks Regulus back to the dorms – Regulus makes sure to put up a fight every time – and talk the whole way there.
It’s silly, but Regulus finds a little solace in the whole thing. Someone who just wants to be there, someone who cares enough to get him back safely.
They’re – Barty, Evan, Pandora and him – sitting at the breakfast table that Friday. Evan and Barty are arguing again and Pandora is doing her charms homework.
“Are you listening to me?” Evan asks, hitting Barty.
“I’m listening to you,” Barty muses, taking a sip of water, “I’m just not paying any attention.”
“Why do I still like you, knowing you’re a total asshole?” Evan asks, taking an aggressive bite of toast.
“It’s my charm. I’m charming like that,” Barty is looking smugly at Evan who glowers back at him.
“Charm my ass, absolute twat, don’t know why I’m even friends with you.”
“Evan – Barty-” Pandora growls, sporting a glare on her face. This is Pandora before ten o’clock.
Evan and Barty share looks of mock terror. “Don’t look in her eyes,” Evan says in a dramatic stage whisper, “she might steal your soul.”
“She’s hot, but she’s evil.”
Pandora glares.
“Regulus?” Evan jabs him with his elbow to get his attention. Breaking him out of his trance.
“Huh,” Regulus glares at them. “You weren’t paying attention to Evan,” Barty explains, “He’s being especially clingy today.”
“Oh, okay then.” And he’s dragged into a conversation where Evan thinks that Quidditch is entirely overrated. Barty and Regulus can’t stand for that. Quidditch? Overrated? He thinks not.
He was too busy staring at James Potter, before. And now he’s too busy to see James Potter staring right back.