Gladiator

Their meeting with Madam Pomfrey was quick. She asked Regulus a few questions: if it’s gotten any worse, if he’s noticed anything different, if he was able to sleep well. He answered truthfully but didn’t give her a lot of detail, feeling unsure how much of his experience was informational and how much of it was just him being a baby. She suggested as an afterthought that he start a journal to track things he notices about the bite. 

She told them that she’s spoken with Slughorn and Mcgonagall further about their situation, and that they’ll work on arranging their schedules better to make sure they can each attend as many of their lessons as possible. It shouldn’t be too difficult with the other schools here already making classes a bit different than they’re used to, no one should take much notice of their different schedules. She said as much with seating for meals, there was already so much shuffling to fit extra students, and Madam Pomfrey said she thinks everyone should sit where they like anyway, and that she’s always thought the separated seating was a weird way to divide your school against itself. 

She mentions the Triwizard Tournament, but only enough to comment her hope that Slughorn can finish the antidote potion before the first task, which was a month away. She sends them away with a threat to James not to let go of Regulus and they’re off to breakfast. 

Regulus thought he was ready for this. He had convinced James and himself that it would be fine. Who cares what the Great Hall thinks of them, walking in together, hand in hand. Why would Regulus care what rumors start spreading or how people will talk about him when he’s not there? He doesn’t. That would be stupid. 

What’s also stupid, is the way Regulus lets go of James’ hand the second the Great Hall doors open and walks away from him toward the Slytherin table. He hears James call after him, but can’t make himself stop walking away, even as the pain pricked in his chest and breathing became harder, though that could have been due to anxiety more than the bite. 

He could see Evan and Barty looking at him from the Slytherin table, though he suspected they were watching James following him more than Regulus himself. He sat next to them with a greeting and made room for James to sit next to him without acknowledging him. James rested a hand on Regulus’s lower back without asking and Regulus was grateful, the relief was immediate. 

“Morning, lads,” James said to them, beginning to pile food on his plate. 

“Morning, Potter,” Barty said from his seat across the table. Regulus didn’t have to look at him to know he was smirking. His crush on James was notorious amongst their friend group, even though Regulus felt it was taken more dramatically than it really was. He had mentioned it once in third year and Barty hadn’t let it go, continuing to tease him whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

Regulus might have been able to get over it if he had kept it to himself. But instead, Barty and Evan wouldn’t let him forget about it. Doesn’t Potter look fit in his Quidditch get up? Do you reckon he's a good kisser, Reg? He hasn’t been able to catch a break in years. 

“What brings you to our table this fine morning, Potter?” Barty asks as Regulus spreads jam on his toast.

“Oh, you haven’t heard? Regulus has declared me his best mate and refuses to go anywhere without me.”

“Is that so? I suppose that would explain why you never came home last night, Reggie? Bunking up with your new best friend?”

“Shut it,” Regulus says, though there’s no bite to it. He hesitates for a moment before deciding they’re going to figure it out soon enough anyway. “A stupid bug bit me, now we have to hold hands or I’ll die.”

“Sounds intense,” Evan said. 

“Yeah that sounds like it’s gonna be really, really hard for you,” Barty said. 

“I can’t imagine what must be going on in your head,” Dorcus said.

“Some bug, isn’t it?” James said.

“Thank you, dearest friends,” Regulus shot back, “for your sympathy for my condition.”

James only had one class that day, as it was Friday, and Regulus only had two, so getting the class sharing thing figured out wasn’t too difficult, at least they had time before their more overlapping schedules come Monday. Regulus spent the first of half of James’ Transfiguration class, paying attention and trying to use it as an opportunity to get ahead for the next year, but then spent the second half of it doodling bugs and quidditch equipment onto his parchment. 

They had discovered that James being left-handed and Regulus being right-handed meant they could easily hold hands between them and both be able to write properly at the same time, the one convenient thing to come out of this so far. McGonagall had asked them to stay after class and told them she was nearly finished working with the professors to get their schedules arranged to the most efficient it could be for the both of them until the antidote was finished brewing. 

Next, Regulus had Arithmancy and History of Magic, the former James spent an annoying amount of time hovering over Regulus’ work trying to correct his answers, and the latter, he spent writing a potions essay. 

Regulus isn’t sure why this surprised him. He knew James was smart and knew that he held decent grades, but seeing him actively working when he could be causing trouble or being annoying made Regulus uneasy. James Potter not taking the open opportunity to bother him? Unheard of. 

Barty, Evan, and Dorcus managed to keep their teasing to a minimum during classes and walked with them to lunch when they had finished. Barty had remembered James had been called to represent Hogwarts in the Triwizard Tournament, and had started asking him questions, the rest following. 

Regulus thought James knew an uncomfortably small amount of information about it, considering he was risking his life for it. He couldn’t answer most of the Slytherin’s questions, but hardly seemed concerned, saying he was sure he would figure it out sooner or later. 

Sirius, Remus, and Peter joined them at the Slytherin table after they were settled, ignoring the looks from those at the table who apparently didn’t get the memo that no one needed to give a shit about the house table separation this year. 

Regulus noticed Sirius deliberately not acknowledging Remus as he talked to James and caught up with the Slytherins. He caught Peter’s eye across the table and raised his eyebrows towards them. Peter only rolled his eyes and gave him a thumbs down. 

“How are you feeling, Reg?” Sirius asked him as he finished his small talk with the rest of the table.  

“Fine,” he said, raising his and James’ conjoined hands. “Can’t complain yet. Other than James refusing to even let me use the loo alone.” 

“We don’t know exactly how it works yet, what if I let you go alone and had to come find you bleeding out because you weren’t within my line of sight?” James interrupts.

“Because that’s stupid and that’s not how it works, I would have been fine for two minutes.”

“Right, yes, excuse me for trying to keep you alive.”

“As weird as that is, James,” Evan said. “What exactly are the rules of your bug bite again?”

“James melts if Reg stops thinking about him,” Sirius said.

“They both turn into ferrets if they let go,” Peter said.

“Regulus’ hair will fall out if James can’t smell him,” Remus added.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I figure it out,” Regulus told him. “There’s almost no research on it, and all we’ve found out is that hurts a lot when I’m not touching James, and that the antidote takes weeks to brew.”

“What are you gonna do when James has to do Triwizard business? You can’t exactly go with him.” Dorcus pointed out.

“Guess we’ll just have to burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“I’m not really a huge fan of that plan,” Sirius said.

“Why don’t you do a study?” Evan asked.

“How do you mean?” James asked.

Evan shrugged. “Well, you know, test the limits, write everything down, figure out how far you can go or if there’s anything that helps it.”

“I’m not sure how I feel about that idea, it could end badly, Regulus could get hurt,” Sirius said. 

“Oh, please, Pads, he’s grown enough to decide to do his own study on his own bug bite,” Remus interjected.

“No one asked you how grown my brother is,” Sirius bites back, his voice rising. 

“You could try asking me,” Regulus added, though he wasn’t really sure he wanted to be involved in whatever this was between Sirius and Remus. 

“What the fuck did I do to make you so angry with me? Last night you forced yourself into my bed and now you won’t even look at me?” Remus says, which makes all the Slytherins look at each other and raise their eyebrows.

“Moony,” James started, “Maybe you–”

“No, Prongs. I’m sick of his mood swings, I shouldn’t have to deal with them just because he’s too immature to talk about whatever’s bothering him.”

Without saying any more, Sirius stood and left. James looked like he wanted to follow, but couldn’t, seeing as he was tethered to Regulus. 

“Moony,” James said again, lowering his voice despite the fact that everyone was listening anyway. “You really shouldn’t push him like that. He’s just worried about…” James trailed off, trying not to look at Regulus, though Regulus could tell he wanted to. 

“I don’t care, James. He can’t take it out on me just because he doesn’t know how to talk about it. You can baby him all you like, but I’m not going to.”

“Fine,” James sighs, resigning from the argument. They eat in silence.

Regulus agrees with Remus. Sirius has been known to have a short temper, though he’s never taken it out on Regulus. He assumes Remus is getting the brunt of it because he and Regulus still don’t talk as well as they probably should, and he can’t talk to James when they’re stuck together. Regulus respects that Remus isn’t letting himself be pushed around by Sirius. 

Eventually, before he finishes his plate, Remus takes the half eaten sandwich off Sirius’ plate, wraps it in a napkin with a few fruit slices, and leaves without saying anything, pulling out a blank piece of parchment from his pocket. 

“Right,” Evan says. “So, uh, up to you, but I think testing its limits would be a good idea. Especially if Sluggy doesn’t get you your potion before the first task.” 

“It’s a good idea, Evan, I’ll look into it,” Regulus tells him. 

“What do you usually do after class on Fridays?” 

Regulus and James had gathered Regulus’ things from his dorm and were bringing them to Gryffindor tower. He had borrowed some of Sirius’ clothes for the day, but seeing as they would be stuck together for a while, bringing his trunk of things didn’t seem as bad. 

His friends had behaved more than he thought they would upon learning Regulus was cursed to hold James’ hand, keeping their teasing comments to themselves instead of airing out Regulus’ stupid crush on him to the whole table. He had been dealing with it on his own for so long without James knowing and he didn’t need to start working through it now just because of his bug bite. 

“Homework, mostly. Used to go out on the pitch sometimes but no quidditch this year.”

“Homework and quidditch on an evening off? How boring can you get?”

“Shove off. What do you usually do?”

“Get into trouble mostly, but I suppose I’ll spare you from that, for now,” he said, smirking. 

 “James!” A girl’s voice was calling behind them. When Regulus turned, there were three girls wearing the blue Beauxbatons uniforms. He had seen them around the school, since they arrived on Halloween, though he hadn’t spoken to them. He and James stopped and waited for the girls to catch up, the one in the middle, a tall girl with wild curly hair was smiling widely. She held out her hand for Regulus to shake once she was within reach, which he did. 

“It’s good to see you,” She said to James, and to Regulus she said, “I’m Lettie, it’s so nice to meet you. This is Lucrecia and Manon,” she gestured to the girls next to her. They waved shyly and muttered hellos. 

“How are you?” James asked, “How have classes been?”

“Oh they’re just lovely, it’s so cool to look at how different Hogwarts is from Beauxbatons, even the magic is different.”

“That’s amazing, you’ll have to show me the differences some time.”

“Yes of course that would be so much fun!”

The two of them continued talking, making plans to meet up later to talk about the Tournament as well. This is when Regulus started feeling annoyed. Sometimes it felt like there were two Jameses. The person he was around his friends and Regulus, and the one he became in the presence of other classmates and teachers. 

The shift between was always so quick, one moment he was a boy with his friends, making jokes and playing pranks, teasing each other, smiling. Then the next his posture was suddenly taller, he looked older, more environmentally conscious, a Prefect.

It was incredibly irritating to Regulus for a reason he couldn’t entirely pinpoint, but he knew it made him roll his eyes to ignore his skin crawling at the change in James. 

Regulus stopped listening in favor of turning his attention to Lucrecia and Manon, who were whispering French to each other. This was much more interesting and much less annoying than James’ fake, kingly presentation. 

“Tu ne le trouves pas il beau?” Manon asked.

“Et il est tres courageux, s’il en compétition.” Lucrecia responded, giggling behind her hand.

“Je parie qu’il est tres en forme sous et uniforme.”

“Il n’est pas disponible,” Regulus interrupted, in French as well. 

He wasn’t sure why he said it. It probably wasn’t a smart thing to say, insinuating that he and James were a couple, but it did help to ease the annoyance he was feeling for James, turning it into a joke instead. It was funnier that Regulus knew James didn’t understand French and that he was extremely annoyed with himself for not understanding French, given that Sirius and Regulus liked to have conversations about nothing in front of him and then refuse to include him, just to see him huff petulantly. 

He raised his and James’ hands, in a way that could have been a friendly wave, but to them, it was a sign that James wasn’t an option for them. 

This only made the girls giggle louder, looking at each other and covering their mouths. James shot Regulus a questioning look at Regulus, but continued his conversation with Lettie.

“Anyways,” she said, “I was talking with Marlene McKinnon and she mentioned you were good friends.”

“Oh, yeah of course, we’ve been friends for ages, we play quidditch together.”

“Yes, well, she’s so charming, she managed to convince me to give you this,” Lettie handed James a folded piece of paper. “I hope you’ll be willing to return the favor when you have the chance.”

James read the contents of the paper, then folded it again. “Is that for the first task,” he asked, placing it in his shirt pocket.

“Yes, although don’t ask me how I got it, no ones supposed to know anything before going in.”

“Doesn’t that feel a bit unfair to Marya?”

“Maybe, but to be honest, I don’t think she’ll need any help. Also she’s mean and scary. And unapproachable, she’s always frowning.” 

“Right, well. Erm, thank you. If I figure anything else out, I’ll let you know.”

“Good,” she said, and turned away, her friends following after with flirty waves to James and Regulus.

“What’s it say?” Regulus asked as they continued their trek to the tower. James said nothing and handed over the piece of paper.

One to use, one to keep, and one to never touch. 

“Wow,” Regulus said. “That’s completely useless.”

“No it isn’t,” James said, taking back the paper and putting it back in his pocket. “It’s better than going in blind.”

“How do you know, she’s not giving you that to throw you off and make you lose?”

“She seemed genuine about it. Plus, she said she met Marlene, I trust anything that comes from a meeting with Marlene.”

“You’re too trusting.”

“Maybe you’re not trusting enough.”

“Maybe we both trust the right amount for our circumstances.”

A beat of silence.

“What did you say to those girls?”

“What girls?”

“Lettie’s friends.”

“Oh nothing. Just saying hello.” Definitely not taking advantage of their hand holding to mark some sort of weird claim over James. Even if it was mostly to make himself laugh and get over himself for being annoyed at James for no good reason. Whatever. 

“For the record, I don’t believe you, and I’m going to start learning French.”

“Sure you are.”

When they made it to the Gryffindor common room, Remus and Sirius were sitting together on the couch, Sirius’ legs draped across Remus’ lap as a T. Rex album played on the record player they had brought down. They were talking quietly to each other, but stopped as James and Regulus walked in. 

Sirius and Regulus didn’t talk about stuff like crushes or relationships. Since he moved in to the Potter’s after Sirius (read: running for his life from his sociopathic parents), most of their one on one conversations were trying to be better brothers to each other; which mostly involved apologizing for not doing more when they were in the Black mansion and forgiving the other because they were both kids. It tended to be repetitive.

However, despite never talking about regular teenage boy stuff together, Regulus could tell that Sirius was absolutely in love with Remus and had absolutely no clue. He wasn’t sure how to bring it up, or if he should bring it up at all; it was probably smarter to let them figure it out themselves, but Regulus wasn’t sure how long that would take, and given how dramatic Sirius was this morning about who knows what, he didn’t think he wanted to witness much more of it playing out. 

James walked to them and wordlessly handed the piece of paper to Remus. Sirius leaned into him to read it as well. Already, just being in the presence of his friends, James’ kingly demeanor was gone completely, and he was once again just a boy. Regulus’ annoyance evaporated. 

“Wow, Prongs, I didn’t know you were getting into poetry,” Remus mused.

“When’d your handwriting get so pretty? I can actually read what it says,” Sirius added as he handed the paper to Peter.

“Was this written in glitter?” Peter added.

“It’s from Lettie, the Beauxbatons girl. She said Marlene convinced her to be nice to me,” James said.

“Well that explains it,” Remus said. “If Marls asked nicely, she could get McGonagall to play a one on one quidditch match with Dumbledore.”

“That’s what I said, but Regulus doesn’t trust it.”

“I mean, yeah sure, take it with a grain of salt, but if you get nothing else, that could very well save your life.”

“Unless she’s evil and plotting your death,” Sirius added, “Then it probably won’t.”

“Yeah, but she’s got kind eyes,” Peter said. “You can always trust someone with kind eyes.”

“Mm, excellent point, Wormy,” Remus said. “Any more thoughts, Regulus?”

“I think you’re all idiots, but that’s mostly just a general statement,” he said.

“I think he’s convinced, good teamwork lads, I’ll high five you all if I survive,” James said. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Regulus said as Peter returned the paper to James, and motioned to his trunk. “Let’s go unload this.”

The other boys didn’t follow them up the stairs. It was awkward trying to put things in drawers (Remus had already conjoined James and Sirius’ dressers together to create extra space.) They still weren’t used to staying together when doing tasks, accidentally pulling this way or that. 

“I think Evan’s right, too,” James said as Regulus tucked his trunk under the bed. 

“About what?”

“That we should test the limits of this. I feel bad that you have to stay so close to me, I know you’re not really about physical touch very much. We should see if we can figure out how far you can go, or if there are things that help.”

Regulus agreed. He had actually been thinking about it all day, even before Evan brought it up, though he hadn’t been able to articulate it. James had hardly given him a chance to test it, refusing to let go, even for a few seconds, because he was scared of hurting Regulus, despite how much he insisted he would be fine.

“Okay,” he says. “First rule, I don’t want Sirius around when we’re testing things.”

“I think that’s fair.” 

“And I’ll do the touching. We won’t be able to figure anything out if you grab me every time I look uncomfortable.” 

“I wouldn’t do that.”

“I don’t think you have the ability to keep your hands to yourself.”

“I could in the name of research.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Okay, fine. You do the touching. Anything else?”

“We try everything. No matter how silly it sounds. Magic is weird and the smallest things could mean something, especially when there’s so little research about this stupid bug.”

“Okay, fair enough. Should we start with the silly ideas or the normal ones?”

“Do you have a clock? I think we should start by just seeing how long it takes to start hurting,” Regulus says as he pulls out an empty journal from his school stuff. He writes the date on the page as James hands him a pocket watch. 

“Okay,” Regulus says, taking a deep breath. “Let go.”

The feeling is immediate. It’s not painful right away, though Regulus’ body takes note of the absence of James’ touch. A tight feeling all throughout. At about the fifteen second mark, a sharp pain makes itself known in Regulus’ chest and pulses until it’s dull, crawling its way to Regulus’ shoulders, down to his fingertips. Regulus takes notes as the time passes.

It’s uncomfortable, but not unbearable yet. By two minutes, the dull ache has gone to piercing, shocking all the way to his toes. It’s painful, but still not unbearable. His hand holding his quill has started shaking, enough that he can’t write clearly anymore. His breathing has picked up. 

He can feel James' eyes on him, though he refuses to make eye contact. He clenches his fists, trying to convince the pain to turn around and leave his hands, though it has no interest in listening to Regulus’ suggestions. 

The pain turns hot, Regulus can’t tell if he’s sweating or not, and if he is, whether it’s from the actual pain or the illusion of the pain being hot. His eyes are clenched tight and his breathing is irregular. He checks the watch. Four minutes. The longest four minutes of his life. 

White hot needles are covering his entire body. It’s on his skin, in his veins, through his muscles, he feels a sound escaping him, though he hardly registers it, trying to curl into himself in an attempt to ease the pain. He takes a deep breath, trying to work through it, but it feels like his lungs have been pierced and he can hear his mother’s voice telling him to do better, be better. 

Suddenly, it’s gone. The white hot pain is replaced with euphoria. Regulus opens his eyes and sees James’ hand on his shoulder. He breathes, closing his eyes again. 

“I told you I would end it when it was too much,” he says to James. 

“I’m sorry,” James whispers. “You were crying.”

Regulus registers the wetness on his cheeks and wipes them with his sleeves, sniffling. 

“Knew you couldn’t do it. How much time was that?”

“Just past five minutes.”

Regulus picked up the notebook from where it had fallen on the ground at some point. He wrote in as much detail as he could remember as James stayed silent next to him. 

What Regulus didn’t write was how James’ touch was more than just a relief from the pain; all day Regulus had been trying not to notice how nice it felt to hold James’ hand. The points where their skin touched was addicted. If Regulus had less pride, he would run his hands across James like he was an incredibly soft blanket, just to feel it more. It was warm, not white hot, not just the sweaty palm of a teenage boy. Warm like the outside of a mug of hot cocoa, like a fireplace. It wasn’t the absence of pain, it was ecstasy. 

“Next time,” James starts. “Next time, I think– I don’t want to do that again. Maybe we could try the silly ideas instead.” 

There was a snide comment on Regulus’ tongue waiting to make fun of James for being soft, but it died as Regulus looked at him. His hand was still on Regulus’ shoulder, but he was staring at his lap. He looked how he did last night, when Regulus had told him that it felt like the Cruciatus curse. Regulus had seen Sirius under the curse and he knew that he himself was coming off it when he flooed into the Potter’s living room. He knows it’s not a pretty sight. 

“Alright, what silly ideas do you have?” 

James apparently had a lot of silly ideas. His first was to suggest Regulus wear some of his clothes, something about dead skin cells possibly having a similar effect to live ones. He reluctantly put on the shirt James wore to sleep last night, Regulus noticed James only sort of looked away as he changed, but he told himself not to overthink it. The shirt delayed the ache, but only for a short amount of time. It gave him about an extra minute of prolonged discomfort before the real pain started.

James’ second suggestion was talking. He wondered if the sound of his voice could ease the pain at all. Regulus thought it sounded stupid, but it was his idea to try all the stupid suggestions, so he agreed. 

James fumbled over finding something to talk about at first, his voice continuous, but not really saying anything until he decided to tell Regulus a story of the first time he tried riding a broom and fell from high enough he broke three bones. 

They made it to ten minutes, Regulus taking notes here and there, but mostly listening to James’ voice. It still hurt, but it was duller, more tolerable for much longer. They stopped before it got unbearable, James taking a look at the growing discomfort on Regulus’ face and taking a glance at the watch and deciding that that was enough, for now. 

Skin to skin contact was better than over clothes. Touching their shoes together didn’t help at all, ruling out the idea that they could do that instead of holding hands during classes. 

James wondered if touching the spot where the bug bit him would do anything. He put two of his fingers over the red mark that was still there, and Regulus was jolted with the pleasure that usually came when James touched him, but it was amped up to one hundred. He gasped and pushed James away, telling him it didn’t do anything and ignored the way James definitely noticed that it had affected him. 

They ended their testing session when Peter came up to the dorms, telling them they were heading down for dinner. 

During James’ last class on Monday, a fourth year student interrupted Professor Whipple and soon James was  following her out of the classroom, Regulus following. 

“What is this for?” he asked?

“The Daily Prophet,” the girl said. “They want to take your picture or something.” 

They followed the girl into a classroom whose desks had been pushed to the walls. There were several people there, James spotted both the other champions and their teachers, as well as Dumbledore and McGonagall. There were two men with cameras and a small round woman holding a stack of parchment. 

“James, how wonderful it is to meet you,” James and Regulus were greeted by a tall thin man in dark green robes. He shook their hands, James noticed his eyes trail to the way James and Regulus went back to locking their fingers together when he was finished. “My name is Henry Laguardia, I write for the Daily Prophet, I was hoping to get a few words from you this evening, if that’s alright?”

“Uh, yeah sure–”

“Oh, Henry, leave him alone. We’ve got to do the Wand Weighing ceremony first, and then you can write your article.” The woman with the parchment had come over and lightly swatted Henry. She offered her hand to Regulus and James, shooting a meaningful glance to Henry when she noticed their rejoining hands as well. “I’m Lucy Croft, I’m the Head of Magical Games and Sports at the Ministry. It’s so lovely to meet you James. And you are?” She said to Regulus.

“Regulus Black.”

“Interesting,” Henry muttered as he pulled out a notebook and started writing rapidly. That probably isn’t good. 

“Lovely to see you both. James, if you’ll just wait for Mr. Ollivander to get here then we can start.”

“Mr. Ollivander?” James asked. 

“Yes, dear, he’s going to make sure each of the champion’s wands are in good condition, seeing as they’ll be your primary tools in the tournament. Oh, there he is.”

Mr. Ollivander entered and Lucy left them to address the room, explaining what was to happen and asking the champions to stay after for a picture and to give a few words to the Prophet. She told them that the first task was to be held in two weeks time and that they weren’t allowed help from any of their teachers. 

The Wand Weighing itself was uneventful, Mr. Ollivander looked older than James remembered him when he first got his wand when he was eleven. He took each champion’s wand and made comments about each of them, declaring them all fit for the tournament. 

After, James was ushered towards the cameras. He shot a worried glance at Regulus, who only rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll be fine James, it’ll only take a second. It’s just a photo.”

“Right, yeah. I’ll just be right here, okay?”

“It’s fine, James.”

“Right over here, lad,” one of the camera men said as they pushed James' shoulders until he was standing in between Marya and Lettie.

“Hello, James, good to see you again,” Lettie said in between flashes. 

“Yes, you as well. Good to see you too, Marya,” he said with a glance to his right.

“Yes, hi,” Marya said without looking at him. 

They were asked to do some individual shots as well, but it was all a very quick process. Regulus looked fine and composed, but when James got back to him, he gripped James’ hand tight enough to hurt. 

“James, if you’ll follow me now?” Henry had reappeared, this time with a younger handsome looking fellow next to him. 

They walked to the corner of the room where some temporary walls and a few chairs facing each other had been set up. 

“So James, can I ask why Mr. Black is here with you today?”

“Oh, he’s acting as my bodyguard today. Someone put some exploding snaps in my shoes earlier, and he’s such a good friend, he offered to make sure no one else messes with me,” James responded smoothly.

“And that requires holding your hand?”

“Another prankster stuck our hands together,” Regulus responded, letting go of James to prove the opposite, then grasped it again. “Aren’t you supposed to be asking questions about the tournament?”

Henry paused for a moment, debating on calling them out on their blatant bullshit, but seemed to decide against it. 

“Yes, of course. This is Raoul,” Henry motioned to the other man who was writing quickly into a notepad. “He’ll be taking notes for the article, I hope you don’t mind. So, what made you want to put your name in the Goblet of Fire and become a Triwizard Champion?”

“Well, I suppose it’s mostly the Gryffindor in me, isn’t it? I’m always up for a bit of a daring challenge.” 

“Wonderful. How do you feel about the tasks ahead? Is Gryffindor bravery enough to win or are you feeling nervous?”

It hadn’t yet occurred to James that nervousness might be something he should be feeling. Was he prepared at all for the tasks? Not really. Even with Lettie’s help, he still hadn’t the smallest clue what he was supposed to do.  He hadn’t really thought about the tournament much, if he was being honest, Regulus and his bug bite had been taking up most of his brain space. 

But Henry didn’t need to know that. 

“Well, Henry,” he said, he could feel a smirk making itself present in his mouth, “I’d like to consider myself a fairly skilled wizard for my age. I believe I’ll be able to handle anything the tournament can throw at me.”

“I hate when you do that,” Regulus muttered as they were walking to dinner.

“Do what?”

“That voice you do when you talk to people. It’s annoying.”

“You don’t like my voice?”

“I don’t like that voice.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t, would you,” Regulus said with a huff and opened the doors to the great hall.