Regulus carefully set two glasses on top of the living room table and began to pour some chilled wine. Their daughter was currently asleep upstairs in her cradle of stars, Harry over at Lily’s, and Regulus was waiting for his husband, James to return home from work.
He glances at the clock and he frowns. James should’ve been back ten minutes ago. They have been married for about 10 years now, Regulus is proud to say he can remember James’ schedule like the back of his hand. But Regulus knows that work can drag out, so he passes the time by focusing on the draft of his second book. Ever since the birth of their daughter, he has been so occupied with childcare that he began to neglect his writing. If he had to be honest, he had teased the thought of cutting the book short so he could focus more on his newborn girl. But he immediately pushed the idea away.
As minutes pass, Regulus works diligently on his draft until the familiar sound of the garage door opening takes his attention. His husband is now home. He gets up from the seat on his couch and walks to the front door, where James is hanging up his coat.
Regulus presses a kiss to James’ lips, “Hello, love,” he said.
“Hello,” James replies.
He leads James to the living room. And hands him a glass, the wine remained cooled due to the chilled room. James opted to sit on the other side of the couch as Regulus resumed his work. The quiet sound of their breathing flew about the room.
Regulus always loved how he could be his naturally quiet self around James. It was one of the many reasons why he loved him so. James didn’t expect Regulus to talk. In fact, he was content to fill any void of silence with his own voice, or just let the quiet be.
He glances up from his computer, “Tired, love?”
James’ dark brown eyes return a look. One that makes the edges of Regulus’ mouth tilt down a bit slightly. But he quickly rids it before his husband can comment.
“Yes,” James responds, sounding much older, “I’m thoroughly exhausted.” And in a strange twist of events, he downs most of the wine in one gulp. It was not the act itself that was strange, but the aggressive manner in which he does so when he slams the glass down on the table roughly before he reaches for the wine bottle. Intent on getting another glass.
“Let me get that,” Regulus said, setting his computer aside.
“No, it’s fine,” James said quickly, getting up, leaving Regulus very much confused and slightly annoyed. As he settles his computer back into his lap, his eyes glance over to James drinking from his glass every so often.
“If there is something that is the matter,” Regulus says softly, keeping his voice steady from the feeling of being irked, “do tell.”
He closes his computer, setting it off to the side, and moves closer to James, “If it is only that you are too tired, we don’t have to go out for dinner tonight like we had planned. I can call the babysitter and find something simple from the freezer.”
There is a small silence as he waits for James to answer. Normally, Regulus wouldn’t be too bothered, but something tonight made him uneasy and tense. Something felt wrong. James didn’t answer him in any way. He continues to stare off and sip his glass, vexing Regulus more and more as seconds tick away.
“Alright then,” Regulus continues, “I’ll just get you some bread and cheese.”
“No need,” James replies.
Regulus resists the urge to say, “Fucking finally,” because as much as he loves his husband, James was really starting to bother him tonight. He has never been like this which is worrying but it was hard to feel concerned when all he was doing was making Regulus annoyed. They have had their ups and downs, yes, but never like this. Never so…cold.
He straightens the way he sits on the couch, smoothing the wrinkles of his sweatpants in an attempt to soothe his irritation, “But you have to have something to eat after a long day. I can easily fix something up for you. We have lamb too. Everything is in the freezer. I don't want you going to bed hungry.”
“It’s fine, Regulus,” James waves him off, making Regulus’ frown deepen at the gesture that reminded him of Orion, and the empty tone of voice, “forget it.”
Regulus sighs, “You have to eat something, James. I’ll go make something for you, whether you like it or not.” Sometimes, in the past, James would push away attempts of Regulus trying to care for him because he was so engrossed in the care of others. However, tonight felt different, but Regulus wasn’t going to dwell on that. It was probably just another bad thought that stemmed from his rough childhood. Yes.
He stands up from the couch but is stopped by James saying, “Just sit down. Sit for a minute.” A pit starts to form in Regulus’ stomach, but he takes a small breath and does as he’s told slowly. His gray eyes never left James’ avoiding, dark brown ones.
He watches as his husband observes the glass, “I’ve got something I need to tell you, Regulus.”
“It seems so,” Regulus says, “what is it?”
James sets the glass down on the table, his eyes diverting to the floor.
“I know this is going to be a big shock to you, and I’m sorry,” He begins, and Regulus slowly starts to clasp his hands together, his fingers picking and ripping at the skin around his nail beds, a habit he had developed from Walburga, he doesn’t register the slight stings of pain, “but I’ve thought about it.”
He finally looks up, and Regulus searches his eyes, but for the first time, he is unsure. Throughout most of their intertwined life, James has always been an open book. But now, Regulus cannot tell if his husband’s eyes are just hard to decipher or if he is purposely trying to ignore what is in front of him.
“There is someone at work.”
And Regulus feels like someone dumped a bucket of ice water onto him. In an attempt to humiliate him or to freeze him to death. He thinks it’s both. He almost didn’t want to believe it, like if he tried hard enough, he could just pretend this was all a bad dream. That he would wake up in his bed and James would be there to soothe his heartache and tears with love.
He swallows down a lump before saying quietly, “I’ll fix some supper.”
Regulus moves without thinking. Well, more like he tries not to think. He pushes aside every thought of what James said as he gets up from the couch and focuses his attention on not bumping into things on his way to the freezer. There's a painful cramp in his stomach when he stops before the freezer, the cool air does little to help. He reaches for the first thing that catches his eye.
Wrapped in brown paper that he peels away, is a leg belonging to a lamb.
They will have lamb for dinner then. That’s not so bad. He brushes his fingers over the bone sticking out from the meat and holds it firmly in his pale hands. Dropping the brown paper on the floor, he takes it to the living room. Where James has moved the window, his back to Regulus.
“Reg, I already said don’t make me dinner,” He says, not turning around, and Regulus feels a wave of disgust at the nickname, the audacity of this man called “husband”, “I’m heading out.”
Regulus, instead, simply walked up behind him, and without a trace of hesitation, or a falter of doubt. He swings the frozen meat up high and slams it down against James Potter’s head with a look of apathy. With how firm the lamb’s leg is, he might as well have used a steel crowbar.
He takes a step back and watches how James stands for a few seconds before he finally drops to the wooden floors.
And he feels the painful cramp from earlier finally cease to exist. The sight of James’ limp body shakes him from his apathetic trance. He feels a strange sense of calm like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
“So I’ve murdered him,” He hums to himself.
The statement clears his mind more. And he becomes fully aware of the aftermath as thoughts flash through his head. Of his punishment, of Sirius’ reaction, of Euphemia and Fleamont’s sadness, and of his daughter and Harry. Their father is dead. And Regulus killed him. Without remorse too, how can he explain that to the children? He didn’t want to have to deal with all that. Nor was he going to let that happen.
He takes a deep breath to collect himself and takes the lamb to the kitchen, setting it on a pan and placing it into the warm oven. Regulus washes his hands and reminds himself to be quick as he rushes upstairs since he wouldn’t want his daughter to wake up anytime soon. Babies tend to do that so often, it’s quite tiring.
Regulus makes a small stop and takes a quick peek into his sleeping daughter’s room. Perfect, she was still sleeping, knocked out like the dead. But to be safe, he closes the door and finds a chair to place under the knob outside. Babies can be so curious and Regulus wouldn’t want his baby to find her father’s dead body downstairs. He will remove the chair when he comes back.
In the master bedroom, which he will sorely miss sharing with James, the James that loved him. Regulus sits in front of the vanity and corrects his expression into something pleasant. Of course, years of living with his parents had turned the act into something of a perfected skill. It doesn’t take him long before he finds something easy and fitting, pleasant and calm. Nothing too panicked or apathetic.
Then, he rushes downstairs, grabs his coat, and quickly sends a message to the babysitter about how he and James will be home tonight after all as he makes his way to the nearby grocery store.
“Hello, Sam,” he greets curtly as he always does to the man behind the counter.
“Ah,” Sam smiles, “good evening, Mr. Potter. How have you been? It’s quite late.”
“Do you have potatoes? And maybe some cans of beans?” Regulus responds in a casual manner, “I’ve been well, Sam. But James is too tired for us to have a date night out as we usually do, so now I’m making a simple dinner for us, but I lack much of the vegetables in the house.”
“That’s a shame,” Sam replies in a pitying sound of voice, “How about some meat, Mr. Potter?”
“No thank you,” Regulus says, “I’ve got a lamb’s leg back at home.
Sam gives him a bunch of potatoes, “These ones, Mr. Potter?”
Regulus nods, “They will do, 2 pounds please.”
As Sam bags them up for him, he asks, “How about dessert? Surely your husband would like some dessert? A slice of cake perhaps?”
Regulus pretends to perk up at the idea of cake, “Yes, perfect. James would love that.”
When he pays for the groceries, he leaves with a small smile of false gratitude, “Thank you, Sam. Have a good night.”
As Sam bids him off, he hurries home. He runs through his day. Regulus was just returning home from buying groceries since James seemed so tired from work. Nothing was wrong except for his poor husband. He would not be expecting anything besides a tired spouse and one sleeping baby girl. And it would be very, very, shocking and terrible if Regulus found something horrific at the house. But of course, he would not because nothing had happened to his knowledge. He had left the house with nothing wrong.
Yes, he thought to himself, that’s it. Nothing out of place. Everything was normal and nothing was wrong.
He enters the house through the front door and places the bags on the kitchen counter before he quickly hurries upstairs to place the chair under his daughter’s door knob back into place. Regulus takes a deep breath and makes his way downstairs. Stopping by the counter and begins his performance.
“James!” He calls out, “I’m home! Are you feeling better, love?”
He takes careful steps to the living room and sees James on the floor, limp. And, with the memories of the past, Regulus panics first and rushes to his husband’s side. Shaking his awake and sobbing. Sobbing real tears for the love they held for over a decade. For the pain of betrayal that James left with earlier. No acting was needed as Regulus cries and cries with the ache in his heart.
He loses track of time but he eventually gets up to call the cops. Which he also knows Sirius will be with. Letting his sobs be heard clearly, he cries, “QUICK! HURRY! JAMES IS DEAD! MY HUSBAND IS DEAD!”
“Who’s speaking?”
“Regulus. Regulus Potter,” he replies through hiccups, “Please–HURRY!”
“James is dead?” The voice on the other is one of shock and disbelief.
“YES! Yes…” He starts to sob again, “I found him on the floor, his pulse is gone. Please just hurry.”
“I-shit-we’ll be there soon, Regulus.”
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When the car finally arrives, Regulus is immediately taken into an embrace by his red-eyed brother. Who sheds a couple of tears with him. Sirius takes him back into the house to sit on the couch, but not before he runs upstairs to make sure his baby is safe in his arms. On his way in, he feels eyes watching him.
“He’s dead. Isn’t he?” He whispers tearfully. Sinking deep into the couch and pressing the now awake baby girl closer to his chest.
“‘Fraid he is,” one of the officers confirms. Barty Crouch Jr. The only son of the head of the police department. James doesn’t like him all that much, but Regulus considers him a slight friend. They went to high school together and shared some of their classes. They did lose touch over time though before they reunited once more.
He knows Barty is looking at him strangely, but he keeps his gaze downturned in grief. Focusing his attention on Celeste’s curious gray eyes.
“What happened?” Barty asks him.
In tearful, and quiet words, he talks about the tiredness, the grocery trip, and the discovery. As he cries and cries, Sirius hugs him close and another officer talks to the phone about some dried blood.
More people start to arrive, and Regulus’ insides burn with the number of people entering his home, invading his privacy. He holds Celeste closer protectively as the numbers increase. They ask him more and more questions, all of which he answers with a quiet mournful tone. However, Barty’s questions are more invasive comments than anything which earns him scornful glares from Sirius.
They treat him with pity and kindness. Searching the house, they announce that James had been hit with a blunt object to the back of the head. Now they would be looking for the weapon. One of the officers, Frank Longbottom, someone who was rather close to James, says to him gently, “Get the weapon, and you’ve got the murderer. Simple as that.”
One of the detectives sits down beside him and Sirius, and on instinct, he holds Celeste closer to him. He asks Regulus if anything in the house could be used as a murder weapon. So Regulus feigns confusion and slowly looks around the house. Carefully avoiding Barty’s burning gaze.
By 11:00 p.m. it was late and the search was continuing. Regulus can tell the men are getting increasingly more and more tired as time passes. So he says, “Frank, would you like a drink? It’s quite late, you must be tired.”
Frank takes a moment to respond, “Well, it’s not allowed by police rules, but you are James’ husband and friend.”
Regulus hands Celeste over for Sirius to hold until he returns, his brother gives him an encouraging smile, and he leaves to get the men drinks. It was clear as they drank from their glasses, that they felt uncomfortable with him and Celeste, especially since she was rather oblivious to the whole ordeal, as babies are in situations. They try to comfort him but Barty stays silent throughout, sipping from his glass and he watches Regulus with a smirk. Regulus almost wants to rip it from his face.
Suddenly, Frank walks into the Kitchen and calls out, “Um, Regulus. Are you aware that the oven is still on? The meat is still inside.”
“Oh,” he says, “give me a moment–Sirius please hold her–I’d better turn it off.”
When he gets to the kitchen, he pulls out the pan of lamb’s leg and looking at Frank, he pleads, “Please, do me a favor and eat this for me. It’s late and you all must be exhausted and very hungry. It’s long past your dinner time and I’m sure Alice and James would not be pleased to know I let you starve while helping me. In fact, why don’t you all help yourselves to the lamb’s leg, hm?”
Frank purses his lips, “I wouldn’t dream of it, Regulus.”
“Please,” Regulus insists, lightly pressing his brows together, “In truth, I don’t have the stomach to eat, and you know Celeste only eats baby food. But it’d be a huge favor to me if you all ate it up. Then you can all return to your work.”
Frank hesitated, but it was clear in his eyes that he was hungry. So eventually, they gather around the dining table and help themselves to the lamb. Sirius was hesitant to leave Regulus and Celeste, but eventually, it seemed that hunger won in the end. Regulus stayed in his seat on the couch, this time away from Barty’s burning gaze, and listened to them talk through the open door. He listens as they talk and talk, their voices thick from the mouthfuls of meat. And he gently rocks Celeste in his arms.
“Here, Sirius,” Frank says, “have some more.”
“I don’t think I should finish this.”
Another voice speaks, “He wants us to finish it. Might as well.”
He hears Barty, and he bites the inside of his cheek as he hears the teasing tone, “Must’ve been a firm, big bar that hit him. The back of his head broke into pieces.”
“So the weapon must be easy to find. Also quit looking like that, Crouch. Fucking hell you’re disturbing,” Sirius replies sharply.
“I ain’t doing anything, just pointing out the truth.”
“You calling my brother, a “pretty widower”, is not pointing out the truth. It’s rubbing salt into the wound-!”
Another voice cuts through, Regulus almost wishes they didn’t, “Erm, whoever couldn’t have carried a weapon that big around so easily.”
“I think the weapon is somewhere in the house.” Another voice replies.
“It’s probably right under our noses, eh?” Barty says.
And in the other room, a smile starts to creep up Regulus’ face.
────────────
When they all finally leave, Sirius reluctantly. Barty is the only one that stays behind. Regulus heads upstairs to put Celeste to bed beside him in the master bedroom. He figured it would be weird to leave her alone.
As he wipes his face with a wet towel in the connected bathroom. He jumps slightly at the sound of knocking. Regulus frowns as he enters the bedroom where his daughter has resumed sleeping and Barty is sitting on the vanity stool. A playful look in his eyes.
“I wasn’t aware police would be staying for the night.” He says simply.
“Unofficial,” Barty replies, getting up and walking to him so they are standing only a step apart.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
Barty looks over to where a sleeping Celeste sleeps, “Poor baby, lost her father so young, huh?”
Regulus walks over and sits down on the bed beside her, “Yes. It’s quite a shame.”
“Sooo,” Barty begins, “should I continue, or get the elephant out of the room?”
Regulus chuckles, “Depends. What’s the elephant?”
He walks over to the bed and leans over Regulus, their faces inches away, “You killed him.”
It’s a simple truth. Regulus did kill him, and now Barty knows, or he knew all along. But the thought didn’t scar him. He knows if Barty wanted him caught, he would’ve said something ages ago. So now all that is left is why.
Regulus tests the limits of how close he can get until their lips are brushing against each other, “You let me.”
A hand reaches up and stops below his chin, “It was amusing. They all brushed it aside, like a buncha idiots.”
Amusement, of course. And Regulus seals the small gap between them, their lips locking together in a promise almost. He wraps his arms around Barty, who takes a couple of steps back so Regulus can stand up from the bed. Good, he didn’t want to do this near his daughter.
It’s sweet, in a poisonous way, nothing like the candy sweet kisses from James. It’s poisonous and intoxicating that makes Regulus reach for more. And more. And more. Until it is the only thing he can think of.
Barty pulls away, slightly, and mumbles against his swollen lips, “You’re fucking amazing.”
Regulus just smiles and kisses him.