Regulus Returns

James

James notices when Regulus leaves game night. Of course, he notices, everyone notices. You can’t have that much doom and gloom exit a room and not notice it. No one saw the actual moment Regulus stood from the table, perhaps, (that guy is sneakier than death when he wants to be), but by the time Remus extracts the Funny Bone, and all the jeering and moaning that accompanies another Remus win dies down, James notices Regulus’s empty seat. He shoots a quick look at Remus, who also sees the missing person.

Remus puts his hand on Sirius’s shoulder, about to say something comforting when Sirius stands from the table with a rush.

“You know what this party needs? Alcohol! I’m going to see if we have any of that vodka left in the cupboard.”

Remus closes his mouth helplessly, forming a tight line with his lips.

“Sirius,” James starts cautiously, “he probably just—”

“Up-bup-bup!” Sirius cheerfully raises a hand to cut him off. “We’re having fun, yeah? The night is young! Set up the next game! One that requires fewer motor skills, preferably.”

He’s wearing a huge smile and his eyes are crinkled in the corner, but that’s not fooling James. Sirius is crushed, and he’s drinking to cover it.

Sirius roots around in the cupboard, eventually pulling out the vodka bottle. He doesn’t even bother to grab a glass, or even to offer any to James and Remus. He just walks back to the table and drinks straight from the bottle.

 James frowns a little but doesn’t say anything. What is there to say? Sirius was having fun tonight, for the first time in days, he looked like his old self again. James doesn’t want to ruin that for him. If there’s any chance that after a few drinks and a bit of distraction Sirius will smile for real again, James isn’t going to ruin it.

The night goes on, Sirius getting progressively drunker, Remus getting more and more concerned, and James trying harder and harder to make everyone laugh. And they are laughing. They are telling jokes and rehashing old stories and being the bright happy group they used to be back in Gryffindor common room, but it all feels fake. It feels like they’re putting on a show and reading from a script. They’re impressions of the carefree group they used to be. It’s not even just Regulus that’s dragging everyone down, it’s the war, its adulthood, it’s everything all at once. More muggleborns are dying by the day. James tried to get Lily to go into hiding, but she refused. Remus is spending a lot of time in the Forbidden Forest, but with no results. Mary is considering moving to America. They’re all stressed, and worried, and freaked out. So even though they all want this to be a normal, chipper game night, it just isn’t. After an hour or so, they decide to pull the plug on the night.

“I’ve got work in the morning.” Remus yawns, “perhaps we should call it a night?”

Sirius takes a long drink from the vodka bottle. “Moony, Moony, I so swoony. Will you suck my--?”

Remus yanks the bottle away from Sirius. “And that’s enough of that.” He starts to haul Sirius to his feet, but it’s like Sirius has lost all the bones in his body.

James stands to grab Sirius’s other arm. “Perhaps you sleep in your own bedroom tonight, yeah?” James says to a very drunk Sirius. Sirius has spent nearly every night with Regulus, but it seems cruel to let Regulus see him like this.

“My own? On my own? No.” Sirius slurs. “Moony, stay with me, will you? Stay?”

Remus frowns a little and checks his watch. Not that he needs to, James and Sirius both know what his answer will be.

“Of course, Pads. Always.”

It is quite the collective effort, but eventually James and Remus manage to get Sirius into comfortable clothes and into bed, with a trashcan ready right next to him.

“Regs? Regs?” Sirius moans as the sleepy draw of alcohol starts to pull him down. “Someone… Regulus…”

James pats his friend on the head, “I’ll check on Regulus. Just get some sleep, okay?”

“Mmmmm.” Sirius mutters sleepily. “I love you guys, you know? I love you.”

James smiles sadly and Remus tucks Sirius’s jet-black hair behind his ear.

“We know, Sirius. We love you too.”

James leaves the room and shuts the door softly behind him. He walks down the hall to where Regulus is sleeping. The lights are off behind the door, and given the late hour, James cracks the door as quietly as he can so as not to wake him.

When the door is just wide enough to peek through, James sees Regulus curled up in the bed with his back to the door. He’s so small James can see every bone in his spine jutting out through his shirt. Regulus is still wearing clothes, but he seems to be asleep.

That is, until James listens closer. Sniffling. There’s sniffling and little gasping breaths. Is Regulus Black crying? Cold, empty, blank Regulus Black is crying?

James freezes in the door, unsure what to do. He could just shut the door and go away, leaving Regulus with his arrogant dignity. But that’s not really in James’s nature. When someone is crying, you comfort them. It’s what you do.

James knocks on the door to give Regulus some warning that he’s coming in.

“Regulus?” he calls. “Are you awake?”

James isn’t so cruel as to not give him an out. If Regulus really wants to be left alone, he can pretend to be asleep, and James will have no choice but to leave him alone.

There is no response, of course, but there is some rustling of sheets.

James pushes open the door expecting to see Regulus tucked under the covers with his eyes closed, but is surprised to find Regulus there, sitting straight up in the bed. His cheeks are red but rubbed dry. His eyes are a bit puffy, but it’s hard to see in the dim light.

 “Hey Reg. We missed you at game night.”

Regulus just stares back, as if challenging that comment.

James pretends he doesn’t see Regulus’s annoyance. He takes another step into the room. “Having trouble sleeping?”

Regulus keeps glaring.

“Sorry if we were a bit loud. We probably should have cast a silencing charm on the room or something.”

Regulus looks away.

James squeezes his lips together, “Right. Well, Sirius is a little…under the weather. He’s crashing in his own room tonight with Remus, so he won’t be in until morning. Or possibly a little later.”

From the way he was acting, Sirius is going to be mighty hungover tomorrow.

Regulus makes no reaction. His pale cheeks are streaked with tears that shine a bit from the hallway light. His usually carefully combed hair is nearly as messy as James’s, making spiky shadows on the wall.

James can’t just leave him like this. He can’t.

“I’ll keep you company for a bit.” James says. He doesn’t propose it like it’s a choice, but he waits for Regulus’s refusal anyway.

When no response comes, James takes a few steps closer to the bed. “I know Sirius usually reads or something to help you fall asleep.” James picks up the book left on the bedside table. “Want me to pick up where Sirius left off?”

Regulus keeps staring at the other wall, ignoring James completely.

Regulus’s cold shoulder almost makes James set the book down and walk away, but there’s something so alluring about Regulus. Something so dark and mysterious that goes past the pity and sympathy James has for him. Regulus is something new, something interesting, and James is going to figure him out.

James settles in the chair Sirius pulled from the kitchen a few days ago and settles himself in the seat. He opens the book and begins to read.

Unfortunately for James, the book is all in French, and James doesn’t speak French.

“Ce ne sunt pass do toot mees pied,” James pronounces in a horrible English accent. He looks up from the book.

Regulus is still turned away, but James catches the tiny smirk starting to pull at the corners of his mouth. Encouraged, James reads on.

“Jay do less changer.”

James looks up quickly before turning the page. The smirk has spread to Regulus’s entire face. Even his eyes, which have been cold and empty for days, are crinkling at the edges.

James reads on. “Je ne pew pass do toot marcher commie--” before James can finish the sentence, a hand blocks the page.

James looks up, surprised his reading was interrupted.

Regulus is kneeling on the edge of the bed now, with one hand on top of the book. While the traces of crying are still on his face, a smug smile and glint in his eyes taking up his delicate features. As self-satisfied as the expression is, it’s not mean, exactly.

James smiles and lets Regulus’s cool fingers guide the book down to his lap.

“That bad, huh?” James chuckles. “I thought I was doing alright, all things considered.”

Regulus just shakes his head, the same amused expression on his face.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop. How about I read something else? Or we could just talk for a bit.”

Regulus’s stony demeanor instantly reappears at the word “talk”.

James winces a bit. He didn’t mean it like that, he knows Regulus can’t talk.

Regulus sits back on his feet and turns away from James. His small body barely even makes a dip in the mattress.

“I mean, I could talk.” James quickly corrects, trying to make light of the situation. “I’ve been told I’m excellent at it.”

Regulus does not turn back to look at James, but he does roll onto his butt and drags his knees into his chest, waiting for James to go on.

“Okay.” James nods, almost surprised that Regulus is giving him this chance at all. He’d better not ruin it.

James quickly runs through all the things he could possibly talk about that might interest Regulus. Stories about the Marauders’ capers? No, what if hearing about all the fun Sirius has without him makes him feel bad? A monologue on James’s favorite Quidditch team? Maybe, but if Regulus does follow Quidditch, there’s likely nothing James could say he doesn’t already know. He could just regurgitate everything he’s learned about the muggle world from that book Lily got him to read last summer, but muggles are kind of a touchy subject for the Black family. Besides, if Regulus is giving James the chance to talk to him, he wants to use the opportunity to build some kind of trust with Regulus. Maybe of James shares some part of him with Regulus, Regulus will know that when he’s ready, he can share some part back.

A story pops into James’s mind, one that will make the perfect topic. There are two things that James knows Regulus likes, Quidditch and seeing James make a fool of himself. This story contains both.

“Let me tell you about the first time I got on a broom.” James says, grinning.

Regulus is still huddled in a ball on his bed, but James can tell from the stillness in his body and clearness in his eyes that he’s listening.

“But before I start,” James adds, “I just want to remind you that I was Gryffindor Quidditch captain and quite possibly the best chaser Hogwarts has ever seen.”

James can’t be certain in the dark, but he swears Regulus rolls his eyes.

“I’m serious! I’m actually really good on a broom! I just… got off to a rocky start.”

James spends the next fifteen minutes detailing the hilarious saga that was his first flight (he was seven and had the balance of a baby gazelle, but thankfully the grip strength of an alligator wrestler).

Regulus does not quite look up at him at any point in the retelling, but the growing smirk on his face is reward enough. Regulus doesn’t look so sad and empty anymore, he looks the way a sixteen-year-old kid should: happy, young, and just a little bit too cocky for his own good. James didn’t know Regulus could look like that.