Chapter 31
James
In the past week, James has been spending more and more time with Regulus. It started with Sirius’s early morning rock session and continued from there. Remus has been able to get Sirius out of the house for at least an hour every day, sometimes longer. Sirius even went to an Order meeting. James had stayed behind with Regulus, but from what Remus says, Moody and Dumbledore were quite pleased to have him back in action. Add in the two additional jam sessions Sirius has had, and James and Regulus have spent a lot of time just the two of them. At first, James was worried that Regulus would try to push James away or ignore him entirely, but that quickly proved false. Regulus always listened to James. Even when Regulus’s face was completely blank, James was pretty sure Regulus was listening.
Sirius is still drinking too much, Regulus still isn’t talking, and the war is still getting worse and worse, but it still feels like things are somehow getting better. They are finding their groove and learning how to support the Black brothers. It’s the best they can hope for, given the circumstances.
Regulus may not be talking, but he’s much more alive than he used to be. He’s more present, somehow. It doesn’t matter that he won’t speak, there are other ways to communicate. In the last week, James has gotten pretty good at reading him. James knows what he’s thinking by the tilt of his head, the hitch of his breath, the clench of his fingers. Regulus is very chatty, just not with his words. While gestures and glares are all very telling, the real speech is happening in his eyes. Regulus has very expressive eyes if you know what you’re looking for. When he’s irritated, they narrow ever so slightly. When he’s thinking something over, they crinkle a bit at the inner corner. When he’s amused, they shine a bit, and when he looks at James, they glint and gleam like sparkling jewels.
Or maybe that’s just in James’s head, it’s hard to say.
Today, James even got Regulus out of the house. Only for a half hour or so, just long enough to pop down to the corner store for some dinner ingredients, but it was a huge step. Regulus stuck close to James’s side like a young child might a parent, as if afraid to get lost. James didn’t mind. As they strolled through the aisles, Regulus kept his stoic, calm demeanor, but James could see the way his eyes shone as he took in all of the colorful displays and shelves filled with muggle goods. James doubts Regulus has ever been in a muggle store of any kind, and even though he knew exactly what aisles to find the eggs, chicken, and sweet potatoes, he wandered slowly up and down each one so Regulus could take it all in.
James expected Regulus to retreat back to his room after such a big outing, but to his surprise, Regulus is standing in the kitchen, watching James cook.
“Chicken in a pot.” James says as he cuts the bones out of the chicken thighs. “That’s what my grandma called this recipe. Not very creative, but to the point.” He adds the chicken into a large pot along with some oil, rosemary, salt, and pepper.
Regulus watches intently.
“Say, Reg, could you get the paprika and cumin out of that cabinet?”
Regulus goes over to the pull out the spices.
“Thanks.” James says, taking them from him and dumping a generous amount onto the sweet potatoes. “Do you like to cook?” James asks, glancing up.
Regulus’s face is carefully expressionless.
James smiles “Yeah, figures you wouldn’t have much of an opportunity to try, what with Kreacher and all.”
Regulus’s draws a quick breath and looks away.
Huh. James examines his face. Regulus’s jaw is tense and his brows have ducked together ever so slightly. He looks…hurt, almost. Sad. James silently berates himself. He should have known better than to bring up Regulus’s past, especially that wretched house elf. Sirius was always going on about how miserable and mean Kreacher was.
James quickly tries to rectify the error. “Well here, I’ll show you how.” He offers.
Regulus looks back at James, his eyes a little less glassy than they were a moment ago. He’s interested.
James holds out the handle of a clean chef’s knife. “Here, you can chop the vegetables for a salad. There are spells for that, of course, but I always find it more fun to do it myself.”
Regulus hesitates for a second, then takes the knife from James. He cradles it gently in his hand, as if holding something precious and deadly.
Which, James supposes, he sort of is.
Regulus runs one finger along the flat of the blade, stroking it slowly.
James feels a strange, unsettling twist in his gut, but tries to squash it down. It’s not that he doesn’t trust Regulus, he does, but the way he looks at the knife makes James wonder what knives were used for in the Black household. Did they cut things other than vegetables and chicken?
Regulus looks back up at James and tilts his head ever so slightly, curious.
James shakes his head and smiles reassuringly at Regulus. “Do you know how to hold it?”
Regulus pauses a moment and then grips the handle with his fist, the spine of the blade resting against his forearm and the blade facing out. It’s the same grip used by every serial killer in every muggle horror movie Mary has ever dragged him to see.
For a second, James is deeply aware that maybe he shouldn’t have given Regulus a knife, but when he looks into his eyes, he sees a glint of humor there. Is Regulus… making a joke?
James can’t help himself, he bursts out in a relieved laugh. “No! No!” he giggles, waving his hands around. “That’s how you hold a knife to murder a man, maybe! I meant do you know how to hold a knife to chop vegetables!”
Regulus’s lips quirk upward ever so slightly and he holds the knife handle back out to James.
James takes the knife from him, his warm fingers brushing against Regulus’s cold ones. “Here, it’s like this. You want to choke way up on the handle, you can even put your thumb and forefinger on the silver part to have more control.” James demonstrates then passes the knife back to Regulus, who copies the grip.
“Perfect!” James says, beaming. He instructs Regulus on what size to cut each of the vegetables and how to slice the romaine heads into bite-sized pieces before going back to the chicken and potatoes.
James hums a little as they work, enjoying the warmth of the kitchen and the delicious smells rising around them.
When the meal is finished, James calls Sirius and Remus into the kitchen. “Dinner! Come and get it!”
Sirius comes thundering into the kitchen, looking warm and cheerful. Remus follows shortly after, still buttoning up his shirt.
“Gee, wonder what they were doing.” James murmurs to Regulus.
Regulus huffs a little laugh. James’s heart still in his chest. A laugh. Regulus actually laughed. It was a small, breathy puff of air, like snort on silent, but it was a laugh. James grins at Regulus.
Regulus doesn’t grin back, but his eyes are alight, and he doesn’t turn away.
“Smells delicious, James!” Sirius compliments, piling food onto his plate and giving Remus double servings of everything.
“Ah, but it wasn’t all me. Regulus helped too.” James smiles proudly at Regulus, whose cheeks are a tiny bit pink at the attention.
Sirius’s hand stops scooping potatoes, “You did?” he asks Regulus.
Regulus makes a chopping motion with his hand.
“He chopped the salad vegetables.” James translates.
Sirius moves his plate to the salad bowl, “then I’d better load up, I bet these cucumbers taste way better than the normal James-chopped ones.” He starts heaping lettuce onto his plate.
Regulus rolls his eyes at his brother’s support, but there is a pride in his eyes. He loads up his own plate with more food than James has seen Regulus eat in a whole day, let alone one meal.
The Marauders laugh and joke as they eat, enjoying each other’s company. Regulus doesn’t participate per say, but he clearly has more energy than he has had in weeks. He finishes every bite on his plate, face shining with happiness.
Yes, James thinks, Regulus Black is coming back.