Chapter 20
When it comes to James Potter, Regulus Black finds that he has a new favorite question to ask.
“What the fuck are you doing here?!”
Because no, seriously, what the hell. Regulus is pretty sure that he made his point clear the first time this happened, and he doesn’t know how James seemed to have missed it. Yet clearly he has, because yet again he’s here and James might be more red in the face than he is as he takes a step back. For the first time Regulus finds that he might have actually rendered James Potter speechless. He’d almost laugh at how dumb he looks right now, if not for the fact that he’s completely pissed off.
”I… um, sorry, I was just heading out—“
“Really?” Regulus immediately retorts. “I find that hard to believe.”
James doesn’t have a response to that, which tells Regulus that his previous words were absolute bullshit. And it basically confirms what Regulus has been suspicious of: James has, in fact, been in here for the past five minutes watching him skate. Watching his entire free program. And he’s really, really fighting the urge to scream about it. He figures the other children and parents in here wouldn’t appreciate that.
”Did you follow me in here?” Regulus continues, glancing towards the lobby door. Though he doesn’t need to ask; he already knows the answer is yes, because James does not know when to leave well enough alone.
Seconds later, James only confirms this. “I saw you in the lobby, I didn’t know what you were doing.”
”Bullshit,” Regulus spits out, any decent feelings he had towards James going out the window as he’s reminded that this boy is an absolute idiot. “Why were you following me?”
”I didn’t mean to,” James gets out, taking another step away from the boards. “It just happened, okay?”
”’It just happened,’” Regulus repeats back, and he laughs dryly. “What is that supposed to mean, James?”
By this point, he’s practically expecting another pitiful answer out of James. Bring it on, he thinks. He’ll get the truth out of him eventually.
After another few moments of silence, Regulus speaks again. “No, really. You wanna tell me why you were in here again after I literally told you not to be? What the hell was going through your brain?”
As it turns out, Regulus’s doesn’t have to fight as hard as he thought.
“Isn’t it obvious? I wanted to stay.”
There’s an edge to the way in which James repeats it that nearly causes Regulus to trip over nothing, his own words being twisted and used against him like a knife. For a moment, his brain stops working.
And then Regulus sighs, burying his face in his hands. If he’d regretted those words before, he most definitely regrets them now. “Fuck you, James,” he gets out, his words muffled. He should’ve known James wouldn’t let him forget this. It was only a matter of time.
”Sorry, dude.” James doesn’t sound sorry. “Your words, not mine.”
“I hate you.”
”I know you do,” James replies. Right as Regulus goes to attack him with another quip, however, he continues to speak. “Look, can we move past that? That’s not why I’m here.”
Then why are you here, Regulus nearly responds. Why are you watching me skate again?
But neither of those loom over his head as much as his third question does. Why am I not killing you for that right now? Regulus has no idea how to answer that. He doesn’t want to.
”I’m listening,” he responds after a moment, crossing his arms over his body. James still hesitates for a few moments afterwards, like he’s trying to figure out how to get the words out.
And then finally, he speaks. “I saw you in the lobby watching Sirius’s game. Were you actually using an illegal stream to do it?”
Now it’s Regulus’s turn for his face to flush beet red, and he quickly looks away. He was hoping nobody had seen. “God. You just can’t help noticing the creepiest fucking things possible, can you?”
The question comes out harsh, and James winces. Good, Regulus thinks. Because he absolutely, under any circumstance, does not want to talk about this.
Unfortunately, his deflection doesn’t work well enough. “It’s not like it was hard for me to see,” James says after a moment. “Anyway, did he not give you access to watch the games?”
That question shouldn’t surprise him as much as it does—and yet it feels like a slap to the face all the same. Especially when hearing it asked by the boy who is more of a brother to Sirius than Regulus will ever be.
Regulus considers telling James to fuck off right there and then and to get out of his face. He truly does. He even considers ripping his skate off and throwing it at him for good measure. But what’s the point in that? He knows that all James will do is ask Sirius about it later, and then the truth will come out then. He might as well admit it now.
”He hasn’t said five words to me since August. You figure it out.”
James seems stunned at that, and for the second time in just a few minutes Regulus reckons he’s rendered him speechless. He has a feeling that the same is not even close to true for James. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.” Regulus repeats, and he has to resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Now can you get out? These sessions are quite expensive and you’re wasting my time.”
“Sorry, sorry,” James says, raising his hands up. “I’ll get out soon. I just wanted to ask something.”
”Nope, time’s up,” Regulus responds whilst attempting to ignore any sense of curiosity that James might’ve just sparked. Admittedly, it’s proving to be difficult. “Get out.”
He could skate away right here. He really could. All it would take is a few strides backwards, and he wouldn’t have to deal with James Potter again until Saturday. But he doesn’t. He doesn’t move, and neither will James.
Fucking hell, Regulus thinks. He’s not sure he’s ever hated James more than he does right now—yet, he’s finding it more and more difficult to walk away from him, to turn around and not think twice. And he doesn’t know how that could be.
”Look, Sirius gave my family access to watch all of the games,” James blurts out, which stings Regulus. He certainly didn’t get that fucking offer, did he? “If you want, and only if you want, you’re free to come over and watch.”
He almost laughs. Is that what James wanted to ask this entire time? ”No,” Regulus wastes no time in answering him, appalled that James would ever even think he’d say yes. “I’d rather kill myself.”
”Yeah, I had a feeling you’d say that,” James nods, like he completely understands, and Regulus could punch him. How can he stand being this nice all the time? How does he not go crazy? “Just… the next game’s on Sunday. It might be nice. At least think about it?”
”I’m thinking about it right now,” Regulus replies. “The answer’s still no. Get out.” And fuck you for even asking. He’s quite insulted, if he’s being honest.
Yet again, James nods. “Just thought I’d offer.” And just like that, he begins to walk away. Regulus watches him leave, practically seething at what has just transpired.
But then James turns back, meeting his eyes directly. “I saw your program,” he says. Regulus’s heart drops into his feet. “You really do skate beautifully.”
The words hit Regulus all at once, a crushing weight on his chest as he’s reminded of the last time James told him those words. They’re just as surprising, just as terrifying now as they were then. He feels completely exposed, utterly vulnerable, and he hasn’t the faintest clue how to handle it.
He can only bring himself to shake his head. “You don’t know the first thing about this sport,” Regulus spits out. Because if you did, you’d know that I skated like shit.
James seems surprised at those words, which tells Regulus all he needs to know. But he’s not wrong. The entire time he skated, all he could hear was his mother’s voice in his head, telling him that he had to be better. Pointing out every mistake he made, so he could fix it in his next run. Between the uncentered spins, the tight landings on almost every jump, the fumbled footwork, and the step out of that fucking triple lutz, there’s still so much to do. And the closer to regionals they get, the more anxious Regulus becomes. He doesn’t have the faintest idea how he’s going to pull this off in time. And he doesn’t need James talking about his skating, constantly getting in his head, on top of it all.
“I don’t,” James admits after a second, and Regulus thinks that’s the end of it. But then he speaks again. “It’s still true.”
Before Regulus can chase after him for what he’s just said, for the heinous act he’s admitted to repeating once again, for telling him lies that simply are just false, he is gone, leaving Regulus on the ice like nothing’s just happened at all. Regulus is amazed at his ability to do that—to act like his every single move doesn’t mess with him greatly, doesn’t leave Regulus pondering his actions for days. It’s why he asks James to forget; because Regulus certainly cannot. And he especially cannot forget now, as he’s left behind with an offer and a confession.
James wants me to watch Sirius’s games with him.
He thinks I skate beautifully.
Regulus is not sure which one is worse; he supposes that’s up to him to decide.
❅ ❅ ❅
“Please, Reggie?” Sirius asks, kneeling at the foot of his brother’s bed. Beside him lies his new bag of hockey equipment—a bag that their mother notably did not buy for him. Regulus will never forget the look on their mother’s face when Sirius walked through the door with it swung over his shoulder. “Just come today, and then I will never ask you again.”
“No,” Regulus responds, his blankets still pulled over his legs. “I told you already, I don’t want to.”
”I won’t make you do it again,” Sirius says, “I pinky promise.”
”No!” Regulus exclaims once more, though he’s sure Sirius hasn’t retained that. If he hadn’t before, he certainly won’t now. “I can’t believe you’re even doing this. Mom told you to cut it out.”
“I don’t care,” Sirius loudly proclaims, which immediately causes Regulus to wince. If Mom’s up right now… “Hockey’s so much fun, Reg, you wouldn’t even believe..”
”Oh, come on. You’ve only ever hated hockey players, and now you want to be one?” Regulus shoots back, raising an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with you?”
Sirius’s face shifts—Regulus suspects their mother has probably said something along similar lines. But it’s not like he can take it back. “Nothing’s wrong with me,” he says at last. “Reg, come watch me play, and then tell me I should stop. I’m really good, you know.”
”I never said you weren’t,” Regulus replies, because he doesn’t doubt that. His brother has never half-assed anything in his life; if he decides to become the best hockey player in the world, then he one day will be. “But you’re a good figure skater too. I don’t get why you want to quit.”
”I never said I wanted to quit!” Sirius quickly exclaims, too reactive for Regulus to believe that’s true. “I just like playing hockey too. James said that—“
”James said?” Regulus says, not even needing to hear the rest of Sirius’s statement. “What about what I say?”
”You don’t know anything about hockey!” Sirius retorts, which cuts Regulus a little. Up until a couple of months ago, Sirius didn’t either.
”I know that it’s a stupid sport!” Regulus exclaims. “And I know that you’re wasting your time with this.”
”How about you watch a single game before you—“
”I said no!” Regulus practically yells back, pulling his covers back so that they go up to his shoulders. “Hockey’s stupid and I think you and James are stupid too. Now can I go back to sleep?”
Sirius looks away, but not fast enough for Regulus to miss the way his entire face twists up. “Yeah,” he says. “Sorry. Just thought I’d ask.” And immediately, he is filled with regret.
He shouldn’t have said that. He knows he shouldn’t have said that. But every time Sirius brings up James, his new best friend overnight, it’s just like… a switch seems to flip in Regulus. Like he’s fine one second, then James is mentioned and it all goes out the window. And then all he can feel is hurt, and bitterness that his brother’s replaced him so quickly. He isn’t helping himself by getting so angry every time James’s name is simply invoked, and he knows that. But he can’t control it. He’s always been a spiteful person, and he doesn’t have a single flaw he can point out about James. So instead, he takes it out on Sirius. And he only makes everything worse between them. He wants Sirius to stay more than anything, and all he does is push him away.
As Sirius picks up his bag, Regulus hears the metal of his gear scrape and shuffle against his floor. And suddenly, as Sirius’s footsteps sound through the room, something tugs at him.
“Wait,” Regulus begins, dropping the blankets. “I’m sorry. I can still go. Do you want me to—“
”No,” Sirius replies, his voice still tainted with hurt. “I’d rather go play my stupid sport by myself.”
Before Regulus can answer him, begging him for another chance, Sirius is gone. The door clicks closed behind him, and then he is alone again, all thanks to himself.
Regulus doesn’t fall back asleep that morning. But he does tell himself that when it comes to Sirius and the sport of hockey, he will never try to intervene again. He’ll only make it worse. Like he always does.
❅ ❅ ❅
“No, you absolutely could not.”
It’s Saturday morning, and James and Regulus are currently watching a little girl at the other end of the ice practice a scratch spin. She’s in one of the more advanced classes, yet she can’t be any older than five. Regulus always notices her at the very end of every session. Staying on the ice and practicing until the zamboni kicks her off, trying twice as hard as the big kids. Technically, he should be telling her to get off, but he doesn’t see the harm in it. It’s honestly sweet, and reminds him a little too much of himself at that age.
Which leads him into what James just said with the utmost confidence. Up until now, he hasn’t said anything stupid to Regulus, and that might be a record for him. He didn’t sit down next to Regulus as they laced up their skates, and has only focused on teaching the kids swizzles. He probably knows that Regulus would kill him for bringing up what happened on Thursday. Smart boy. But of course, he had to ruin it, joining Regulus’s side as he watched the girl. After just a few seconds of watching, that’s when he’d went and said it: “I bet I could do that.”
That statement is absurdly and insanely laughable, so naturally, Regulus has immediately shot it down. Because seriously, who thinks that they can just go and do that first try? No, who’s he kidding—of course James would. His ego is a part of the reason that he’s so damn insufferable. Regulus refuses to contribute to it.
”I think I could,” James says, and then he rotates around himself a couple of times using both of his feet. What he fails to account for is the fact that spinning on one foot in a very specific position is far different from just rotating twice in a circle. Especially on hockey blades.
”Do you even know what that spin’s called?” Regulus asks, still trying to deter him. “You’re gonna kill yourself.”
”I’m gonna do it,” James says, suddenly stepping backwards and looking over his shoulder. Regulus opens his mouth, yet again about to tell James to absolutely not do it, when James asks a question: “You guys do a back crossover into these things, right?”
”I mean, you can, but—“ It’s too late. James is already crossing his right foot in front of his left, and he admittedly does have a pretty nice wind-up. But any sense of impressiveness goes out the window as James steps forward onto his left foot and attempts to start spinning.
See, there’s a reason that hockey players can’t spin on their skates. And it’s the fact that they don’t have a rocker, which is the sole portion of the blade that allows figure skaters to spin. Regulus doubts James even knows what a rocker is. And he highly doubts that James took any of this into consideration before he started trying to spin at the speed of light.
For a moment, he actually does manage to spin around a couple of times. But as he attempts to pull himself into the scratch spin position, his right leg coming down over his left foot, he makes the fatal mistake of leaning too far forward.
The next thing Regulus knows, James is losing total control over his body. He’s realized that he is too forward and now tilts backwards in an attempt to regain his balance. But now he’s too far back, and his legs slip out from under him as he lands right on his ass, and his entire right side slams into the ice.
Regulus knew this was going to happen, but it doesn’t make it any less shocking to witness. His mouth falls open, and his hand flies up to cover his surprise.
He could make a comment about how he told James he couldn’t, or how he warned him. But he can’t bring himself to say anything at all. A few seconds later, James glances up at him. “Ow.”
Regulus can’t help it—he has to turn away. He just watched James eat total shit, and all he has to say about it is Ow? He keeps his hand over his mouth as he attempts to completely suppress his reaction, refusing to let any part of his face or body give it away.
Admittedly, he does a shit job at it, his shoulders shaking as he refuses to look in James’s direction. And of course, James notices it immediately. “Hey, stop laughing!” he exclaims, which naturally only makes it worse.
Still, Regulus lies right through his teeth. “Fuck you, I am not!” he shoots back, even though he can’t deny the smile that’s formed on his face and the way his shoulders are still moving.
Though he’s staring down at the ice, he watches as James’s skates come into his line of vision and stop right in front of him. “Oh, you so are,” James replies. Regulus doesn’t hesitate to look up at him, his face suddenly serious as he shoots James a glare. He considers flipping him off, but he doesn’t want any of their students to catch it from off the ice.
So instead, he settles on a vague threat. “I have two blades on my feet and I will not hesitate to use them.”
James’s eyes widen, and he’s quick to shut his mouth. But as he turns away from Regulus and makes his way towards the door, Regulus catches one last comment from him. “You still laughed.”
Regulus skates after him, wondering how he hasn’t gone absolutely crazy yet. “You’re an idiot,” he calls out after him. But still—as he gets off the ice and sits down on his usual bench, the corners of his mouth do begin to point upwards.
That changes once the weight of the bench shifts, and Regulus realizes that James has now taken his amusement as his chance to throw any sense of self-preservation out the window. His lips immediately purse together—he has a feeling that he knows exactly what James is about to ask.
And sure enough, his prediction is correct. “Hey, did you think any more about tomorrow? With Sirius’s game and everything?”
Regulus can’t help the dry laugh that escapes him. “Yeah, I think you’re insane to even offer it,” he says, glancing over at him as he begins to undo his laces. “I told you already, I’m not going.”
”Why not?” James replies. “Honest to god, what do you have to lose?”
Regulus thinks the answer couldn’t be more clear if he spelled it out word by word. “My dignity,” he states. “Any ounce of self-respect I have. My unwavering promise to myself that I was going to steer clear of you forever. Get the picture?”
”I mean,” James says, “you kinda already broke that promise last Saturday.”
Regulus freezes up completely, still hunched over his laces as James’s statement sinks in. He could punch him across the face for it. But why would he do that when James has done nothing but state the truth?
Instead, he shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to.”
”You still did.”
”I don’t intend on doing it again.”
”I hate to point this out,” James says, “but you can’t un-break a promise. That’s not a thing.”
Regulus scoffs. “It can be if I say it is.”
”You sound like a child,” James states, and now Regulus is really fighting the urge to crack up. He almost replies that James is one to talk, but realizes that statement definitely will not help his case.
He instead opts to take in a deep breath. “You’re impossible, James. You realize that?”
James offers him a half-hearted grin. “I try.”
Regulus sighs, tilting his head backwards so that he is now looking up at the ceiling. And he tries to figure out how the hell he is going to say no to James. Truth be told, he doesn’t entirely want to.
It’s a tempting offer. Really, it is. Between the fact that he wouldn’t have to worry anymore about giving his computer a new virus and the fact that he’d no longer feel embarrassed to be watching Sirius’s games at all, it’s theoretically perfect. Not to mention the fact that James actually plays hockey, and Regulus wouldn’t constantly need to be confused over the rules of the game if James is there to explain them to him. He has no reason to say no, and he knows that.
Except for the fact that it is, unfortunately, James Potter who is proposing it to him. And no matter how Regulus tries, he doesn’t quite know how to overlook that fact. He made a promise six years ago that he’d never get involved with Sirius or his hockey endeavors ever again, and getting closer to the best friend that roped him into the sport feels like a pretty major violation of that promise. He doesn’t even want to know what would transpire if Sirius found out about this.
Which is stupid, because Regulus hasn’t done anything wrong. He’s repeatedly told James to fuck off, hasn’t he? But still… every interaction between them, Regulus is reflecting on it. And every time he so much as thinks about breaking it, he can’t stop the guilt from washing over him.
But there’s also a part of him that thinks that maybe it was an irrational vow to make in the first place, that maybe Sirius would understand now if he were to break it. Maybe by watching him now, he is making up for those six lost years, for all of the lost time that is his fault alone. And maybe, just maybe, it would’ve been better all along if he’d never sworn himself to that promise and just gone with Sirius. Maybe…
It’s too late for all of that now. He can’t make up for any of it, and he’s aware of that fact. But it isn’t too late for him to try.
Regulus realizes that he’s left James alone in total and complete silence, without so much as a clue to his thoughts. He brings his head back down, and at last turns to face James.
”Look, James,” he starts, unsure of where to even begin. “It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just—“
And that’s when Regulus makes out the sound of a voice from the doorway, louder than both the hum of the zamboni and the chattering of parents and students alike. His heart drops as he recognizes the shrill voice.
”Reg!”
When his eyes fall on the doorway, sure enough, there stands his mother with her arms crossed over her chest.
Regulus thinks he’s going to be sick.
She wastes no time in rushing over to him, but he doesn’t stare long enough to catch her facial expression. He instead yanks at his laces faster than ever, wishing that he could sink into a hole in the ground and disappear forever.
Shit, shit, shit, he’s thinking. How could he have forgotten about this? For weeks now this day has been on the calendar, the day that she’s supposed to take him to try his costume for the season on. He doesn’t know how he blanked on it. He feels foolish for not being the least bit prepared, for not having any explanation as to what she’s seeing in front of her.
And then Regulus can feel the air around them shift as she turns her head, facing the boy next to him. She almost stops dead in her tracks. “James,” she addresses, more so to be polite than anything else. “I didn’t know you were coaching Learn to Skate.”
“Hi, Ms. Black.” Regulus doesn’t think James’s voice has ever sounded smaller. “Yeah, I’ve coached it for a year now.”
”Oh!” she exclaims, far louder than she needs to. “Well, that’s great. You must really like it, then?”
”I do,” James confirms. “It’s quite a time out there, Ms. Black.”
”I can imagine,” she says, an airiness to her tone that Regulus despises. Her unhappiness couldn’t be more obvious from a mile away. “And please, call me Walburga.”
”Noted.”
Regulus actually wishes he could vanish away from existence right now as his mom turns back to him, and he prepares for what she is going to say.
When she speaks, it takes him a second to recognize what she is saying. She speaks to him in French—something that she hasn’t done since he was in elementary school. And given the fact that his only experience with the language over the past couple of years has been in mediocre French classes, he can’t be blamed for not processing it immediately.
“Tu ne m’as pas dit, Regulus.”
You didn’t tell me.
He could blame his lack of practice for his response, but that wouldn’t be true. If she asks later, though, that will be his excuse. “Désolé. Je ne savais pas.”
Sorry. I didn’t know.
Didn’t know what? He supposes that could be said of several things. He didn’t know that James would be coaching with him, he didn’t know that his mom would want to know, he didn’t know that she had to know every single detail concerning his life. It’s ambiguous, and he hopes she won’t ask for specifics later. He won’t be able to provide them.
Tired of her cowardice, of her intimidation, of the pure gall to talk in front of James as though he isn’t even there, he switches back to English. ”I’ll be done in a second, maman,” he mutters as he pulls off his right skate.
When she speaks again, there is not as much hostility in her voice as he would’ve thought. Which only makes it worse. He knows that she will make up for it later tonight. “Good. I was getting worried out there, you know,” she responds, laughing. It’s not as warm as he’d like it to be; it’s cold, dry. Calculating.
He must break a record as he now pulls off his left skate, shoving them both into his bag and zipping it up. “Let’s go,” he says as he pulls on his sneakers.
“Well, it was good to see you, James,” says his mother in a manner that tells Regulus that she absolutely does not feel that way at all.
”You too, Walburga.” At least James returns the displeasure.
Even as Regulus stands up, slinging his bag over his shoulder, he doesn’t dare to meet her eyes. He doesn’t meet James’s eyes either. Instead, he opts to stare at nothing at all, his chest hurting and his stomach twisting into knots. “Come on, Mom,” he says, not bothering to wait for her. Already he is dreading the talk that is sure to come the second they reach the car—but he also knows that the longer he waits, the worse it will become. Easier to just get the pain over with. He’s done this with her enough times to have learned that by now.
He heads for the door, and doesn’t look back at James as they leave.