Gladiator

James

“James Potter exudes confidence in the Triwizard Tournament. “I don’t see why I have anything to be afraid of,” he told me, “But I've always believed in my abilities and my training. I entered this tournament with the intention of doing my school proud, and I'm confident that I'll be able to finish what I started."”

“Lily, stop that.” James groaned.

“Wow, James, I love the modesty.” Mary joined.

“Seems like my conversation with Lettie made you pretty sure of yourself,” Marlene said. She was smirking. They were all gathered at the Gryffindor table for dinner. 

“Oh as if,” he said back. “Her clue is hardly helpful to me, I have absolutely no idea what it means. And as for the interview, I was just telling him what he wanted to hear. And no one needs to know I’m completely clueless.”

“Oh, love, you’re not completely clueless.”

“Yeah, James, just mostly.”

“I hate you all.”

“Marlene. You talked to Lettie? The French one?”

“Yeah, to be honest, I’m working up to asking her to the ball, I actually had little interest in getting her to help James. But, you’re welcome for being as charming as I am.”

“Much appreciated.”

“Yeah it sure sounds like it is.”

“Is there any other reason you’re moping?”

“Regulus said he doesn’t like me.”

“No, I said I don’t like your voice.”

“That’s not better!"

“What’s wrong with his voice?”

“He does this stupid voice when he talks to certain people. That’s why that Prophet interview sounds like bullshit, it was King James speaking, not your friend.”

“What on earth are you talking about?”

“No, he’s right, James has an extra persona when talking to teachers, it’s gotten us out of loads of trouble.”

“What? That’s just his natural charm.”

“Yeah, Moony, it’s just my natural charm.”

“I dunno, James, sometimes you sound like a right git, s’why I didn’t like you for so long, you used to talk to me like that.”

“D’you mean with respect? There’s nothing wrong with the way I speak.”

“No one said that, mate.”

“Regulus did.”

“Regulus is mean.”

“Doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

“I’ll give you that.”

“I won’t! It’s bad enough you’re chained to my best friend and stealing him, now you’re insulting his honor.”

“I just think he’s annoying, it’s not that serious, Sirius.”

“Alright, anyway,” Lily interrupted. “What do you mean you don’t know what you’re doing? The first task is a week away, and you’ve got no plan?”

“Well it’s hard to plan for something that’s supposed to be a mystery isn’t it? I’ve been brushing up on defensive and offensive spells, but I don’t see what else I can do until then.”

“What was the hint Lettie gave you?”

James hands the paper to them across the table. It’s been sitting in his pocket since Lettie gave it to him; sometimes he takes it out to read it, thinking maybe he’s missed something the last hundred times he looked at the page. He tries not to think too hard about where she got the hint from, but decides he’s probably better off not knowing. 

Sirius, Remus, and Peter have tried deciphering it too, each of them have come to him with their own ideas of what it could mean, none of them have more than a hunch, however, and they still haven’t made any progress in figuring out what the task is going to be. 

“I still think you’re an idiot,” Marlene said as note was still being passed amongst them.

“What for?”

“People die in the Triwizard Tournament, James. And you’re going in completely blind, you have no idea what you’ll have to do.”

“Are you doubting my skills as a wizard?”

“Yes, James. You’re only seventeen, what if you have to fight a dragon? Or a basilisk? You could very easily be killed here, and no one’s allowed to help you. All you’ll have is a stadium full of people watching you slaughtered.”

“Okay, thanks for your faith in me?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Look Marls,” Sirius says, “not that we don’t appreciate your splash of pessimism into James’ very cool thing that he’s doing, but this is still a tournament designed for people his age. The challenges are made to be difficult, but there’s supposed to be a winner, not corpses. It’s designed to be winnable.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous!”

“Of course it’s dangerous! It’s supposed to be a challenge.”

“I think it’s stupid, and I’m not going to cry at your funeral.”

“Don’t worry, mate. We will,” Peter said, gesturing to Sirius and Remus.

“Thanks, lads. I can always count on you.”

Marlene rolled her eyes and kept eating, everyone else followed suit.

It’s not that James isn’t aware that this is dangerous. He knew that, when he put his name in the cup. And the boys knew it too, they were just as likely to be chosen as he was, it just happened to be by chance that he was chosen. 

Sure, he could die. Students have died in the Triwizard Tournament and they probably will again. But James trusts himself as a wizard, he may not be the best in the world, but he’s pretty damn good for a teenager, especially if he has his friends helping him. The same friends who made the map and became animagi on top of all their homework. He wasn’t worried. 

“I think it’s stupid too,” Regulus murmured in between bites of honeyed carrots.

“Yeah, but I bet you’ll cry at my funeral.”

Regulus

Regulus is having a terrible day. 

He couldn’t sleep last night because James cuddles in his sleep and Regulus couldn’t stop sweating long enough to relax and close his eyes. 

They sat at the Slytherin table for breakfast and a handful of the older students teased them for holding hands. James stood up to– Regulus doesn’t even know, fight them? Maybe just to look taller than them long enough that they backed off? Regulus had yanked him back down to sitting, telling him it’s not worth it. Regulus guesses he only listened because fighting would involve letting go of Regulus for an unknown amount of time, and James was extremely against anything that would cause Regulus pain.

It was beginning to be a bit suffocating. 

Regulus is a big fan of alone time. He likes to recharge from all his social interactions with a book or going for a walk. He likes to do these things alone. Something that isn’t possible when James Potter has labeled himself the keeper of Regulus’ comfort. He sits outside the shower, for Godric’s sake, talking Regulus’ ear off and offering his hands in between every breath. 

Regulus would think it was sweet and endearing if it didn’t feel so patronizing. Any scrap of freedom he could gather was ruined by James holding his hand, or linking their pinkies, or pressing their arms together.

The most frustrating part is that Regulus can’t tell him to stop. As much as he wants to breathe his own air for an hour, he needs James’ touch. Every time they’re apart, even with all the things that help, wearing James’ clothes, keeping him within line of sight, hearing his voice, as soon as the pain starts to come in, Regulus knows it’s only going to get worse and tries not to think of his mother’s punishments. Of watching Sirius crumple to his knees. Regulus himself crawling to the fireplace after she left the room. 

The memories almost hurt worse than the actual pain. 

He knows Sirius can see it too. Knows he knows what Regulus is thinking, how he’s feeling. He knows that James has an idea as well. Being there when Sirius ran away. Being there when Regulus ran away. Regulus knows that Sirius tells James everything, as is his right, Regulus never made himself a safe person to talk to about this sort of thing. He followed his mother’s asks for way too long even when he didn’t want to.

He tried for too long to believe that if he just did what she asked, she would act like a proper mother. The first time she used the Cruciatus Curse on Regulus was also the last. He wishes it had been the same for Sirius. 

Regulus is taken out of his thoughts by a folded piece of paper being pushed in front of his line of sight. 

you okay?

Scrawled in Sirius’ neat cursive. He looks up at Sirius who juts his bottom lip out and raises his eyebrows. It’s meant to look silly, to soften the fact that he can tell Regulus isn’t okay.

James isn’t paying attention, instead focusing on stirring their potion clockwise with his other hand just barely touching Regulus’ fingers. Regulus had been writing a paper about the troll civil war, before he was distracted with his own thinking. 

He gives Sirius a thumbs up, who doesn’t believe it for a second, but doesn’t push. 

Slughorn asks them to stay after class, only to tell them that the antidote potion is coming along well, but he still hasn’t managed to catch one of the bugs to make it a permanent solution. There are two weeks left on the potion and one week left until the first trial. 

Sirius, Remus, and Peter waited outside the classroom for them. Each of them have a free period next, one that Regulus wants to spend napping, but he knows he won’t be able to, he’ll be joining in whatever idiotic thing the boys decide to do in their spare time today. Maybe it will be catching frogs from the lake to leave in the second floor toilets. Maybe this time, they’ll freeze all the staircases in place. 

Regulus just wants a nap. Just wants a few minutes without Remus and Sirius bickering in the most flirtatious way possible. Without Peter talking about his latest girlfriend. Without James asking over and over if Regulus is alright, if the hand placement is okay, if he wants to go put on some of James’ clothes. 

“No way,” Sirius is saying. “How would that even work?”

“It’s like a television, but you write with it. Like a typewriter but it puts it on the screen instead of paper,” Remus explains.

“What’s a typewriter?” Peter asks. 

“Wait,” James asks, unintentionally tugging on Regulus’ arm as he turns to face them better. “So you can write letters on your television? I thought those were only for films?”

“They are, this is called a computer. It’s smaller than a television. It’s like–”

Regulus tunes them out. They do this a lot, inquiring Remus on the latest muggle technology and then having no idea what to do with the information they’re given. Regulus’ head is pounding, unrelated to the bug bite. 

They’re walking near the library now. If Regulus went down the west hallway and turned right, there’s a little alcove behind a tapestry he goes to read in sometimes. He wonders if maybe his headache could overpower the bug bite and keep it at bay long enough for a quick power nap. Maybe the five minutes of alone time before the excruciating pain would be worth it. 

James hardly notices when he slips away, too busy asking Remus what a keyboard is. The other boys don’t catch it either, holding onto Remus’ every word. 

It’s fine, at first. James had insisted Regulus wear his socks this morning, which Regulus of course refused because that’s absolutely disgusting. He just has to get to the tapestry before the boys notice he’s gone and come to find him. 

He’s already down the first hallway when the first prick of pain hits him. He sort of wishes he had put on James’ socks, if only to prolong his short amount of alone time. 

When he turns down the second hallway, he can see the tapestry, but has to lean against the wall to catch his breath. The strike of white pain leaking through his veins, every pump of his heart pushing it further throughout his body. 

He pushes away from the wall, but only makes it a few steps before a stab of pain hits him again and he stumbles, falling to his knees. He’s so close. Maybe this wasn’t his smartest idea. 

He rests his forehead on the floor, expecting to cool marble to provide some form of relief, but it doesn’t.

“Are you alright?” A girl’s voice. Not any that he recognizes. He wants to lift his head and see who she is, but he’s focusing on moving air in and out of his lungs. 

“Are you okay?” She’s closer now. He could hear her shoes tapping closer to him, getting faster as she went. She repeats herself again, but this time it’s louder, she’s up close to him. He can feel her hands on his shoulders and he’s filled with regret for leaving James. The touch would feel really good if it was James, but it’s not, so it does nothing to ease the pain. 

His entire body is tense. He can feel himself hiccupping. He knows he’s crying, but he can’t get a breath in long enough to stop. He might be whimpering too, probably screaming, but sounds are becoming muffled, he can’t hear himself. He knows the girl is still talking to him, touching him, probably casting spells, maybe shouting for help. 

The pain gets worse somehow. Tightens itself in Regulus’ muscles until he’s folded into an almost fetal position, limbs curled awkwardly together on hard floor. It hurts any way he lays, he knows moving around isn’t going to do anything to help, but his body tries anyway, twisting and turning, trying to convince the pain to leave him alone. 

It’s excruciating. It’s getting worse. Regulus is such an idiot for thinking he would be okay. Why did he think he would be able to walk away from this? He’s going to die here. The pain is going to swallow him up, set him on fire. Just because Regulus is too stuck up to let someone hold his hand for a few weeks. 

The pain is as bad as it’s ever been. Worse than anything his mother can do. I thought you would have known better by now. He should have known better. He should have known this wouldn’t work out. He should have–

It’s gone. All at once, there’s no pain in his body anymore. Even his headache is gone, traded for the bliss that always comes when James is touching him. 

“It’s alright,” he’s saying. “You’re okay, it’s okay now, love, I’m here.” 

Regulus’ body had moved without his permission again, when he opens his eyes, his face is buried in James’ neck, arms wrapped around his shoulders. James holds him as tight as he can and somehow Regulus isn’t suffocating anymore. 

There’s a lot of talking happening at once. Voices asking if he’s okay and what was he thinking and why would you leave?

One is louder than the others, “What the hell was that?”

When Regulus looks up, he recognizes Lettie, the Beauxbatons girl. Her friends aren’t with her this time, but she’s knelt at the ground, closest to Regulus apart from James. 

For a moment, no one says anything, unsure of how to answer her. Then all of the boys, apart from Regulus, start speaking at once, each one with their cleverly crafted bullshit excuse for why Regulus was screaming bloody murder in the hallway. 

When they finish it’s silent again. James is rubbing his hands up and down Regulus’ back. He can breathe again. 

“It’s a love bug isn’t it?” Lettie asks after a moment, her voice losing the power it had earlier. 

James freezes. Regulus does too until James snaps back to life, squeezing Regulus a bit and continuing to move his fingertips across his spine, convincing breath back into Regulus’ lungs.

“How do you know–” 

“My sister was bit by one when I was younger. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

It hangs heavy in the air. Sirius moves closer to Regulus, his fingers finding Regulus’ hair like when they were kids. 

“How dare you let him out of your sight,” she continues. “How dare you put your name in the cup. How can you be willing to leave him like this?” 

“I’m not,” James says all in one breath. “I promise I didn’t– It was bad timing, I wouldn’t have if– I wouldn’t–” 

Regulus shouldn’t be pleased to hear James fumble over his words. Last time he spoke to Lettie, it was infuriating, but now James can’t finish a sentence and Regulus is resisting the urge to smirk. If his body wasn’t so exhausted, he might laugh. 

“Then what was he doing here all by himself? You can’t just let go of him, James, that’s exactly what will make it hurt. Jesus Christ, that’s torture.”

“I know. Lettie I know, it was just– he– we were– It won’t happen again, I promise.” And then quieter, into Regulus’ ear, “I promise.”

“What about the tournament? The first task is in a week, what’s your plan? We could be gone for hours, what if the bite kills him?”

“It can’t. It won’t kill him, right?” Sirius demands. Regulus tries to find himself annoyed at being talked about like he’s not there, but he’s so tired. There’s no energy left in him to argue or speak for himself. It’s taking all the strength he has left, just to keep his arms wrapped around James. 

“Probably not, but he’ll wish he was dead.” 

“We have a potion brewing. It’s supposed to be done soon, but–” James says.

“What if it isn’t? Then what?”

“I don’t know!” He shouts. James rarely shouts. He lets out a breath. “I don’t know, okay? We’ve been trying to find things to make it easier, but we’re running out of ideas.”

Everyone is quiet for a moment until James asks very quietly, “What did your sister do?”

They decide to move out of the hallway. Regulus doesn’t really remember the conversation or standing up or walking. They’re in the Gryffindor common room, Regulus doesn’t know why they decided that was the place to be, but he still wasn’t in any mood to argue. He suspects James, or at least Sirius is going to pound him with questions about leaving. Problem for later.

“My sister and I are muggle born,” Lettie started. They were sitting on the couches near the fireplace. James and Sirius on either side of Regulus. Sirius was pressed into Regulus and Regulus was pressed into James. The suffocation from earlier is gone. 

“My sister’s husband, boyfriend at the time, is a muggle. We were on a summer trip in the country. It was lucky my Nan had studied magical creatures, or else we wouldn’t have had a clue what to do. My mum apparated to Adrien’s house, didn’t really explain what was happening, just brought him back to the house and forced him to hold my sister.” 

“Wait,” Regulus interrupts, his voice still a bit raw. “I thought your antidote became the person you were closest to? How was your sister’s antidote her boyfriend if he wasn’t even there?”

“It’s the person you’re emotionally close to, not physical. You didn’t know that?”

The boys are quiet, unsure what to do with that information. Regulus can feel Sirius fidget beside him, but he doesn’t look at him. James’ arm twitches around Regulus’ shoulders.

Lettie continues, rolling her eyes a bit at their silence. “The problem itself was solved relatively quickly. True love’s kiss is a powerful bit of magic, and the reason the love bug got its name. My Nan didn’t even have to tell them, Adrien was kissing her anyway and just like that, the pain was gone.”

“True love’s kiss?” James asks. 

“Yes, he and my sister were married a few months after. I try to think of it as romantic, but every time I try to, I just see my sister screaming all over again. I’m assuming it’s been a while since the bite and you’ve figured how bad it can get. Honestly James, the fact that you could leave him out of your sight for so long, makes me sick. Makes me regret trying to help you.”

“It wasn’t like that–”

“I left,” Regulus interrupts. “Believe me, James has done nothing but hold my hand since the bite. It wasn’t his fault.”

“Why did you leave?” Sirius asks.

“Because I’m stupid.”

“Regulus.”

“I just wanted a break. Okay? Is that so bad that I wanted five minutes of alone time?”

“If it hurts you, then yes. You can deal with a little social interaction if it means you’re not dying.”

“You don’t understand, I just–” 

“No, I don’t understand, please explain why you would rather kill yourself in the hallway than hold James’ hand!”

“I had a headache!” 

“A headache? Really? And that was worse than fucking torture?”

Sirius’ voice cracks on the last word and all the fight in Regulus is gone. “I just wanted a break,” he says quietly. 

“You’re an idiot,” but Sirius’ fight is gone as well. 

“Are you brothers?” Lettie asks.

They both nod their heads. 

“Then you know how I feel. If I see you two separated again I will kill James in the tournament.” 

James’ head was ducked like a child being chastised. Even though Lettie wasn’t really threatening him as much as she was James, he felt a touch of shame as well. Not enough for him to promise not to do it again. But enough. 

Lettie leaves. It’s still the middle of the day, she has classes to be at. So do they. Well. Regulus doesn’t, but James does. Which means Regulus has to go. Which brings him back to the same stupid problem. 

He turns away from James, putting his head in his hands instead. James pulls his arm back but leaves their knees touching. 

“So,” Peter starts, dragging it out. “True love’s kiss.”

“Shut up,” Regulus and Sirius say at the same time.

“It’s not a horrible idea. There’s loads of stories and studies done about it. It could work.”

“I’m not kissing James.” Unfortunately. They don’t need to know how unfortunate he thinks it is though. 

“Well no one said it had to be James, did they? Just your true love.” 

“And how am I supposed to know who my true love is?”

“Well, you could get out more.”

“Could I? Really?”

“This conversation is not as productive as you think it is, Pete,” Remus says.

“I’m just saying.”

“Well stop,” Regulus says.

The fireplace cracks. Regulus wonders who started a fire in the middle of the day. He’s not in pain anymore, but his body still remembers being in pain. Phantom aches. His muscles feel heavy, waterlogged, slow. His brain is still a bit fuzzy and he can feel his headache creeping its way back. 

He still has to go hold James’ hand during an extra Transfiguration class. And then go to dinner with loud Gryiffindors. And then sleep with James’ octopus arms wrapped around him. And he can’t even pretend that it’s nice, that it’s what he’s been wanting. Being held by James Potter every second of the day. Wonderful, in different circumstances. 

Circumstances where he has a choice. 

But he doesn’t now. Now he’s enduring it when he wishes he could enjoy it. 

“Okay here’s what’s gonna happen,” Sirius starts, standing up, putting his hands on his hips. “Regulus, you’re gonna go take a nap. James, you’re not gonna say a single word. I’ll tell Minnie why you’re gone, and Peter will take notes for you.”

“Why me?” 

“Because I asked you nicely.”

“No you did not.”

“What about Moony?” James asks.

“Who says I need a job, I’m not involved in this.”

“Moony’s job is ongoing. He gets to keep the peace.”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“It means that when Regulus looks like he’s gonna run away again, you get to smack James and tell us all to shut up.”

“I want that job,” Peter mumbles. 

“Now,” Sirius continues, “We’re off to class. Everyone do their jobs or there will be consequences.” 

“Why’d you get the easiest job?” Peter asks as they grab their bags and head for the door.

“Because I assigned all the jobs.”

“Good luck,” Remus says before the door closes, though Regulus isn’t sure if he was talking to him or James. 

Instead of taking a nap, Regulus opens a book. Some fictional novel he started a few weeks ago about a fisherman and his mermaid daughter. He can feel James staring at him. He ignores it for as long as can, which isn’t very long. 

“What?” He asks, looking right into James’ big brown doe eyes.

James shrugs, shakes his head, and pantomimes zipping his lips closed all at the same time. 

“You can talk, it’s fine.”

He shakes his head again. 

“Really. Sirius was just being dramatic.”

A shrug.

Whatever. If James isn’t going to talk, Regulus will just take advantage of the silence. This is what he wanted anyway. 

He goes back to his book. He reads about a page before he peeks over the top to see James still looking at him, expectant. 

“What?”

James puts his palms together and presses them to his cheek, tilting his head. 

“I don’t need a nap, I’m not a child.”

James is offended by this, hand clutching his pearls and everything.

He goes back to his book. Tries to. James is still looking at him.

Fine. Regulus can play this game too. He puts his book down, and looks at James. He won’t say anything either. This game is easy, Regulus could always beat Sirius when they were younger. 

James isn’t Sirius.

“Look. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have run off, it wasn’t fair to you. I didn't mean to make you worry.” 

A slow nod of agreement. A single eyebrow raise.

“I just wanted some alone time, I suppose. I’m sick of going to your classes and sleeping in your bed and holding your fucking hand all day.”

James shrugs again and this time looks away.

“No, I guess I haven’t thought about how it affects you. I mean, you have to babysit me all day. I’m sure that’s gotten old already.”

He realizes, in the back of his mind, that this doesn’t count as a conversation. That doesn't matter for very long because-

“It’s not." James finally says. "Getting old, I mean, the hand holding. I actually quite like it. Well, most of the time. You are quite frowny, which tends to make it less fun.”

“That’s because it isn’t fun.”

“No, I know that, I just mean. Like, we could try to look at the bright side of things, yeah? Like, okay, no, the excruciating pain isn’t ideal and it’s really hard to watch. And we’re both doing extra classes, and having to combine our free time, and I have no idea what we’re going to do when the first task gets here, but. I mean. At least we get to hang out, y’know? Like. We had gotten pretty close over the summer, I really liked that. I like being your friend, Reg.”

He lets it hang in the air for a bit. Digests it. 

He likes being Regulus’ friend. 

When Lettie had said that they got it wrong, that the antidote isn’t the closest to you by proximity, but emotionally, Regulus could feel himself blush. He would try to argue with it. There’s no way James Potter is closer to him than his best friends. No way, he’s above Evan or Barty or Dorcus or Pandora. His closest friends weren’t close enough? 

But, he supposes magic has a point. When Regulus escaped his parents’ manor and ran to the Potters’, ran to Sirius, it was hard. It was hard to talk to Sirius about it, knowing that anything he said would make Sirius more angry. Effie and Monty were lovely, giving him his own room, telling him he could ask for anything he needed; if he was hungry or bored or needed a hug or a listening ear. Regulus tried not to ask for much, but he could tell that they were sincere, that they really wanted to help him. 

James was different. Regulus still didn’t talk about what finally pushed him to leave, but James never asked. He recommended books. Invited him to play Quidditch. Made Regulus try his favorite snacks. He made room to breathe.

He didn’t stop when they got back to school, like Regulus thought he would. He passed notes across the dinner tables, silly drawings or jokes with bad punchlines. He invited Regulus to the Gryiffindor’s start of year party, and invited him to another, even though Regulus didn’t go to the first one. 

He still recommends books, some of which Regulus reads, some of which are waiting on the shelf in his dorm. 

“Nevermind,” Regulus says finally. “Go back to not talking.” 

James grins, zipping his lips closed again.