The Party
James Potter has always hated Regulus Black. He hates him because Sirius when showed up on his doorstep, beaten and alone, Regulus was nowhere to be found. He hates him because when Sirius lifted his shirt there was a gash on his side that looked slightly different than the rest. When James asked him about it, Sirius looked away and softly muttered “my lovely brother.” James hates Regulus because Sirius hates Regulus. That’s always been enough for him.
At first, he’d pushed back. He’d asked Sirius once, if he ever thought about going back for Regulus. That conversation hadn’t ended well. He’d make subtle comments to his mother about getting the other boy out too, but she’d always smiled and murmured that it was Sirius’s decision.
And then one day in the great hall, Sirius had received a howler from their mother. She had been furious, threatening both him and the Potters. Telling him to return home or he’d be no son of hers. The entire great hall seemed to stop, to pause, to listen. All faces turned towards the spectacle that was the imploding Black family. Sirius had tried for a smile, tried for a funny comment, and ended up leaving his breakfast with some quick excuse. After Remus had gone after him, James had looked over at the Slytherin table. While the majority of the hall had fallen silent, Regulus and his friends were laughing lightly at something Crouch had said. Regulus didn’t even look over once, instead giving Rosier a sharp grin. After that, James stopped resisting.
So for the next year, James had shunned Regulus just as Sirius had. He laughed at all of Sirius' awful jokes. He listened to all his jibes. And at night, he held Sirius while he sobbed, rubbing his back and tracing the rigid line of his scar under his shirt. James averted his gaze when they passed Regulus in the halls, and every new death in the newspaper only solidified his stance. Even though Sirius’s scars faded, his anger never did. James’s didn’t either.
But then he’d found Regulus curled in on himself, hiding behind a statue, one of those very newspapers at his feet. James had caught his eye across the hall, watched how intently the people around him were reading, and with each hidden smirk felt his fury build. So when Regulus left the hall, newspaper in hand, James had followed. He needed to say something. Maybe do something violent. He wasn’t quite sure yet. But then the younger Black had ducked behind that statue, and James had followed.
He wasn’t exactly sure what happened next. It was obvious Regulus was not quite as pleased about the recent news as he’d seemed. His breathing had been frantic and irregular, his eyes wide and pupils dilated. He’d been scratching at his fingers, leaving them bloody and raw.
It didn’t seem like quite the right time to punch him.
So James let his anger simmer, but he tucked it away. Because as much as Sirius hated him, Regulus was still his little brother, and that meant he had to be okay. That meant it was James who had to put him back together because Sirius couldn’t. So James helped. Or, he tried. Regulus seemed to be very resistant.
You’re Sirius’s brother.
Am I?
The words run through his head as Mary leans forward, gently stamping another sun onto his cheek. She’d gotten the face stamps over the summer, and ever since then it’d been rare to see any of the Gryffindors without the occasional sun or moon or star or raincloud somewhere on their body. She’s been stamping James with little gold suns, like freckles, for the better part of 5 minutes now. He’s got to be thoroughly covered. She leans back to admire her work.
“Perfect. Now for Sirius- should I do stars or moons?”
James grins at her. “Definitely stars. But you know, I would throw a few moons in there as well. Oh- do one right on the tip of his nose. Please.”
Mary winks, hands him back his glasses, then slides off his bed. “Sirius! Get your ass in here!”
James watches as Mary all but tackles Sirius to the bed, sticking him with stars. As Sirius laughs, James feels a snake of guilt curl around his stomach. He hasn’t told Sirius about his little run-in with his brother. He meant to, really- he left Regulus in the alcove and then marched straight off to find Sirius. But when he saw him he was smiling, his head tipped onto Remus’s shoulder. And so James had stopped and watched. The soft glint of Sirius’s teeth. The flash of genuine happiness in his eyes. James couldn’t do it. What would he say, anyway?
Hey Sirius, just to let you know, I found your little brother having a panic attack after breakfast today. Hey Sirius, I’m not sure Regulus is as ok as we thought he was in that house, and I haven’t been since we left him there. Hey Sirius, Regulus might not be a full blood supremacist yet.
There still might be time.
Needless to say, James left it unmentioned. Instead, he’s occupied himself with a frustrated Remus and a broken record player. The needle went missing a few days ago, and they've yet to get anyone to confess. In the mean time they've been doing their best to transform various small objects into suitable replacements. It hasn't been working particularly well. The party's already started, people milling around in the back, passing around firewhisky. Remus points his wand at a hair clip laying on the table and mutters a frustrated spell. The clip shudders, then transformed into a sewing needle. Remus curses.
James chuckles lightly, clasping Remus on the shoulder. “You’ll get it, mate.”
Then he shrieks and jumps onto a chair, a rat running between his feet. Remus, startled, shoots a spell at it. It’s probably supposed to be a stunning spell, but the rodent stops, squeaks once, then promptly transforms into a record needle. Both Remus and James stare at the rat (needle?) then at each other. Quickly, glancing around, James hops down and scoops up the needle, tossing it to Remus. Remus turns and carefully fits it to the record player’s arm. The swell of music fills the air, and a loud cheer goes up. The boys exchange one last look, then turn back and enter the party.
---
James is fairly sloshed. He’s pretty sure that he and Sirius have polished off a bottle of firewhisky between them. Mary's tucked in the corner, intensely snogging some bloke with blond hair. Remus is sitting on the couch, Sirius’s head half on his lap. He's staying stock still, obviously afraid to jostle him. Other houses trickle in and a small cloud of smoke starts to gather in the air above the Hufflepuffs in the corner.
A little while ago, a girl came down asking if anyone had seen her rat. Remus had turned up the volume on the record player in response.
James walks over, plopping himself down next to Remus and slinging an arm over his shoulders. Pete found them soon after, curling up in the last corner of the couch. They always seemed to find each other, James thinks. Some magnitude that centered them all.
“I don’t think Moony is nearly pissed enough. Do you think he’s pissed enough, Prongs?” Sirius attempts to look at James without moving his head.
“Not at all. Far too sober for the rest of us.”
“You need to have fun, Moons.”
Remus grunts. “I’m quite pissed, cheers though.”
Sirius tisks, staring up at Remus from his lap, eye’s wide. “Not enough, though. You haven’t even started with the Bowie yet.”
“Bowie isn’t playing.”
“When has that stopped you before?”
Remus rolls his eyes and leans over Sirius, grabbing the firewhisky off the table. He takes a long swig, Adam's apple bobbing above him. James presses a hand over his mouth, stifling a laugh at the nearly obscene look on Sirius’s face. The door to the common room opens again, and James glances up.
Regulus looks bored. Somehow. He always looks bored. But this was a party. A right good one too, so he shouldn’t look so bored. James finds himself frowning. Behind Regulus, a few more Slytherins trickle in, almost flanking him. Regulus is wearing a black shirt, a few buttons undone, sleeves rolled up. His curls are hanging loosely in front of his face.
Merlin. James needs to sober up.
And then Regulus’s eyes meet his and they narrow, almost imperceptibly. What’s he thinking? Is he thinking about before, behind the statue in the alcove? James is. Then Regulus’s gaze flicks over, to Remus beside him. And then he’s moving. James sits up a bit, elbowing Remus.
Regulus neatly weaves through the throng, coming up short before Remus. He doesn’t even glance at James or Sirius. His hands are tucked in his pockets. James remembers how they look that day behind the statue. Torn and bloody, ripped to shreds. He wants to see them. He needs to make sure that Regulus is leaving them alone, that they’re healing properly.
“I need to talk to you.”
“Reg?” That was Sirius.
“Lupin.” Regulus pointedly does not look at his brother.
“What are you- you don’t- Moony what’s this about?”
“I- don’t. I don’t know.” But he does know, James thinks. He looks nervous. What’s happened?
“Whatever you need to say to him, just say it here.” Sirius is half sitting up, looking unhappy about having to leave the comfort of Remus’s lap.
“Lupin doesn't want me to say it here.” Then Regulus cocks his head. “Unless… Do you Lupin? Want me to say it here?”
Remus swallows. “No. Can’t this wait?”
“No.”
“Fine. Sirius, you’re going to have to sit up. I know, I’ll be back. You’ll be fine. Lay over Prongs if you must.” Remus gently pushes Sirius the rest of the way off his lap before standing up. “Regulus, let's go over there. Only for a bit. You get five minutes.”
James watches Regulus’s eyes darken at the commands. He’s used to setting terms among his peers, not obeying them. James, not for the first time, tries not to choke on the similarities between the Black brothers. Maybe best not to point it out. After a tense moment Regulus nods and walks away, Lupin following close behind.
Sirius goes still next to James. Every muscle tensed, all eyes trained on the pair whispering in the corner. James reaches over and puts a hand on Sirius’s arm. “It’s okay, mate.”
“What are they talking about?” Sirius’s voice sounds odd.
“I have no idea.” James tips his head back against the couch, eyes flicking to Regulus.
His expression is cool and cold as ever while he argues with Remus, occasionally gesturing. James wonders if Regulus ever smiles. Is it possible? Did his anatomy allow for it? Maybe he did, a long time ago. Maybe his parents took away his smile the same way they gave Sirius his. Because Sirius smiles sharp and defiant, a promise of hope and rebelion. In a weird, round-a-bout way, it was Orion and Walburga that gave him that defiance. Forced it upon him, really. Because of his parents, Sirius had learned to smile with all his teeth. James wonders what Regulus’s smile would look like. A real smile. He can’t picture it. Then again, he is quite pissed. He’ll try again sober.
In the corner, Remus’s hands fly up as he apparently gives in. He turns and marches up the stairs, reappearing a minute later with a book. He shoves it at Regulus who smirks and turns away, book tucked under his arm. He slips back into the crowd. Remus glares after him and then turns, crossing back over to the couch. He flops down with a huff. Sirius stays silent, not looking at him.
James glances between them. Fine. He’ll do it. “What is that about, Moony?”
Remus looks up. “Oh. Yeah. He just wants to borrow a book.”
“How does he know you have it?” Sirius crosses his arms.
“We-“ suddenly, Remus’ mouth snaps shut. He looks panicked, eyes wide. “I’m trying to say that we-“ again, his lips seal, seemingly against his will. “What the fuck?” He hisses to himself.
Sirius and James stare at him. James furrows his brow. “Moony?”
“I can’t- I can’t tell y- oh!” Suddenly Remus looks furious with a new revelation. “That bloody little fucker!”
“Remus, you really gotta help us out here. What’s happening?”
“He cursed me. We were- mph- and he- ugh. He cursed me!” Remus is obviously struggling to get out a full sentence, very clearly frustrated.
“He cursed you?” James narrows his eyes.
“Ugh, I’m gonna kill him. He wouldn’t tell me what it was, but he- mph- ugh. I can’t tell you. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth when I try.” He smacks himself in the forehead. “Stupid. I’ve read about this curse… I should’ve known… I bet I can’t write it out either.”
Sirius’s glare hasn’t lessened. “How convenient.”
“I- what?” Moony furrows his eyebrows, confused. James glances between them. He doesn’t like the glint in Sirius’s eye.
“Bloody typical.”
“Pads-” James starts. Because now Remus looks angry. None of this is good.
“You think that- that I'm lying?” Remus sits forward on the couch. Peter shifts nervously next to James.
“He cursed you.”
“Yep.” Remus’s glare is cold.
“Oh, ok. Sure. Now I get why you didn’t even think to try and mention that before now. Thanks for clearing that up, Moony. Really thought after the whole wolf thing we’d be done with secrets.”
And, to Sirius’s credit, that strikes James as odd as well. Why hasn’t Remus at least tried to tell them about whatever happened with Regulus before now?
Remus looks helpless but stays silent. Sirius stares at him for a moment before pushing himself off the couch. “Fucking unbelievable,” He mutters as he storms out of the common room.
A stony silence falls over the group. Next to him, Peter hiccups. “James, one of us has to talk to him.”
James nods glumly. He’d normally already be up the stairs, but the look on Remus’s face makes him pause. “Pete, why don’t you take this one for now. We can switch later.” Peter makes a low groaning sound as he stands up but dutifully plods up the stairs.
As soon as he is out of sight, Remus groans in frustration and slams his head back against the couch.
“Moony?”
Remus turns to look at him. He looks so sad. “Why do I keep messing things up, Prongs?”
“You don’t. Don’t worry. He’ll get over it. Though- you might have to tell him the truth about this one, Mate. Whatever that may be.”
Remus shakes his head sadly, glaring up at the ceiling. “I can’t.”
“Right.”
“Fucking Regulus Black.” He squeezes his eyes shut. “That whole fucking family. They’re all bloody insane.” He pauses. “Why can’t I get it right, James?”
James has a feeling he isn’t talking about Regulus anymore. “Get it right- with Sirius?”
Remus nods. “He’s always mad at me about something. Always. I can’t- I don’t- ugh.”
James bites his tongue. “What can you tell me?”
“We-mpgh.” Remus’s mouth snaps shut again. “Not much, apparently.”
“Right. Look, I’m sorry Moons, but why didn’t you mention it until now?”
Remus looks down. “I can’t say.” James studies him. Can’t, he thinks, or won’t?
“The curse?”
“Something like that.” Remus looks sad. “I… I wish I didn’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Pushing everyone away with secrets.”
And James really, really doesn’t like seeing Remus sad. So. Something has to change.
James is standing before he knows what is happening, the alcohol lifting him to his feet. He isn’t about to let Sirius’s traitor of a brother mess with Remus’s life. Not when they’ve done everything to make sure he stays safe. James can’t let Regulus break Remus too. Not after Sirius. He can’t have both.
“Prongs!” Remus calls after him, but James is already slipping into the crowd.
He finds Crouch first. He is leaning against the wall, talking to some 5th year in a miniskirt. He has a hand on her waist.
“Crouch. Where’s Black.” It is hardly a question.
Crouch looks up lazily. “Oh, Black? Last I saw he was running up the stairs crying like a baby. Looked awfully pathetic. Nothing new, I guess.” He shrugs and turns back to the girl, who giggles drunkenly. James feels his blood boil. He reaches out and yanks Crouch’s arm off her waist, pulling her back from him a bit.
“Go find your friends,” He growls at her. “Don’t look at me like that. You’ll only regret it in the morning.”
She glances nervously between Crouch and James before stumbling away. Crouch catches her eye and winks as she leaves. He turns back to James. “Now why’d you do that? Not all of us have to pine over women from afar, Potter. No need to take your jealousy out on me.”
James, somehow, doesn’t punch him. It is really an excellent show of restraint, he thinks. He deserves a medal. “Where’s the other Black?”
“Ohhhh,” Crouch says in mock realization. “You meant Reggie. I have no idea. Why would I?”
James turns away from him. How can one person possibly waste so much time? He ducks behind the door up to the dorms. He rummages through his pockets, pulling out the map. He taps it and watches as it begins to fill in. He finds Regulus’s name quickly. Astronomy tower. Lovely. He folds up the map, leaves the party, and begins to walk.
---
He finds Regulus seated at the base of the large telescope, a book resting open on his knees. There is a bottle of firewhisky sitting next to him. His head snaps up as James enters. “Potter. Kindly leave.”
James doesn’t listen, crossing the room quickly. “What the fuck did you do to Remus?”
“Lupin? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Yes, you bloody well do. What happens with you two?”
Regulus raises one perfect brow. He stays quiet.
“Take back whatever curse you put on him. Now. Take back the curse, and leave him alone. Honestly- give back the book too.”
Regulus tips his head. James narrows his eyes. Godrick, Regulus is drunk. “See, this is why I put the curse in place. I knew he couldn’t go three seconds without running to one of you. It’s on him, really. And I’m definitely keeping this book.”
“Take back the curse.”
“You seem to think I’m intentionally antagonizing him.”
“You are.”
“I’m really not. If he didn’t try and say anything, it wouldn’t have been an issue. It’s not hurting him, is it?”
James frowns but shakes his head. “Then why do it?”
“I want nothing from him but his silence. You don’t even know what this is about. Why does it matter?” Regulus shuts his eyes.
James pauses. “You’re forcing him into a box.”
Regulus opens one eye. He doesn’t disagree.
“You don’t know. You don’t get it- he doesn’t need more secrets. He doesn’t need this.”
“Right.”
“He doesn’t need more boxes. He doesn’t need more things to… to worry about.”
“I’m not antagonizing him, Potter.”
“Regulus-”
“We aren't friends. We actively hate each other. Do not call me Regulus.”
“Does pompous ass work better for you, your highness? I can’t call you Black.”
Regulus doesn’t seem to understand. “Why not?”
“Sirius is my best mate.” He pauses. “He’s your-”
“I thought we covered this.”
James stands for a moment, then finds himself sinking to the floor in front of him. Regulus rolls his eyes. “Oh good, you’re staying.”
James studies him. His eyes are darker than Sirius’s, and crueler. Sadder. His eyelashes are long and inky black, like the curls that fall around his face. “I don’t get you,” James whispers.
Regulus doesn’t respond, eyes shutting again.
“How are you so… mean? How can two people raised in the same house turn out so different? Sirius is so full of light and you’re just so… dark. I don’t understand. You’re one of them, aren’t you? A death eater? Sirius insists you are. If you weren't, you would’ve left when he did. But if you were, I wouldn’t have found you on the floor breaking down over a few muggle deaths-”
“They aren't dead.”
James gives him a quizzical look. “They might as well be.” He feels a little cruel, throwing Regulus’s words back at him. Then again… “Then this thing with Remus. You’re such a… contradiction.” He sighs. “I don't get you.” He is definitely too drunk for this. He is fairly certain half that speech makes no sense. This is not a conversation he should be having right now.
Regulus is quiet. And then, eventually, softly: “It wasn’t the same house.”
“What?”
Regulus cracks his eyes open. “Whatever my brother tells you, we weren’t raised in the same house. It just- wasn’t. You want to know why he’s so fucking full of light Potter? It’s you. He found you and just… lit up. So he tucked tail like a bloody coward and ran. During the school year, then after that during the summers too..” He winces at the admission and opens his eyes, focusing on James. It seems to take him a second. "He had you and all I had was him."
James shoves down the feelings in his throat. The guilt that's never fully left.
Then he remembers Sirius’s eyes that night on his doorstep. So lost. He remembers the cut that Regulus gave him, dark and wide across his ribs. When James speaks, his voice is low. “Don’t ever, not once, tell me he was a coward for leaving. That was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen anyone do.”
Regulus just snorts. James glowers at him. Why doesn’t he get it? “They were killing him. You were killing him.”
Regulus’s eyes flash. “Me or him, Potter. I did what I had to.”
As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Regulus clamps his lips shut as James' stomach drops. Regulus’s chest is rising and falling. His eyes shut for a moment and he takes a few shaky breaths.
“Reg,” James tries, realization creeping down his throat. It tastes a lot like guilt.
It doesn’t matter which version of the house Regulus grew up in. He’s still there.
There’s a brief moment of silence. Somewhere in the night, the wind rustles the trees. When Regulus’s eyes open again he is as cold and bored as ever. A mask restored. His fist unclenched at his side. “You should’ve left when I said, Potter. Run back to your mates and the party. I’m sure brave little Sirius needs his golden boy right about now. Oh- and Lupin,” he tips his head. “Tell him we agreed no questions. Sending you in his place still counts.” Then he turns and walks off, footsteps crisp and echoing in the tower. He’s left the book on the ground.
“He was just trying to stay alive,” James whispers at Regulus’s retreating back.
Regulus doesn’t turn around. “So am I.”
---
By the time James makes it back to the common room, his heart is pounding. He can feel himself vibrating, just slightly. Just under his skin. The book- Werewolves, Basilisks, Ghouls, and Other Creatures of the Night- is tucked to his chest. He grabbed it, for some reason. It felt wrong to just leave it there. James can guarantee that Remus already knows everything there is to know in that book. About werewolves, at least. Some new answer he hasn’t found yet. James actually isn’t entirely sure how anything fits together. He isn’t sober enough for that. He doesn’t know why Regulus is involved either, but he is trying hard not to think about Regulus. Very hard.
He pushes through the door to the common room, swaying slightly. The party is definitely over. There is still some trash laying around, cups and the like, but the house elves will get to those later. Lily, Mary, and Marlene are laying on the rug in front of the fire. Lily is reading, Mary is braiding her hair, and Marlene has the rug pulled back and is scratching something into the hardwood floors. They all look up when he enters.
“James. Where’d you go?” Lily blinks at him. He blinks back. She's still the prettiest girl he knows.
“Um, just for a walk. Needed some fresh air.”
Marlene gives him a sympathetic look. “Wrong time for a walk, mate. Sirius and Remus are fighting. Again. Poor Pete looked like he was about to have an aneurysm when he came down and found you gone. Best go check on that.”
Shit. “Right. Thanks Marls.” He glances around at the others. “Goodnight ladies. I’ll see you tomorrow. Try to get to bed at a reasonable hour, kids.” Mary snorts as he walks away.
When James makes it to the top of the stairs, Sirius’s curtains are pulled shut. Remus and Pete are sitting on Remus’s bed, talking in hushed whispers. When Peter looks up, he is glaring. James swallows. Peter slides off the bed and stalks towards him just as Remus falls back against the pillows, silent and moody.
“What the fuck were you thinking? I thought we had a system, James. Divide and conquer. Yet I come downstairs to find that we divided, but we certainly hadn’t conquered. Where the fuck did you go? I thought you were gonna stay with Remus.”
“I’m sorry, shit, I’m sorry. How bad is it?”
Peter just glares.
“Ok. I’m gonna talk to Sirius.” James swallows. He side steps Peter and parts the curtains of Sirius’s bed, slipping in. He finds the other boy curled under the blankets, turned away from him. James gently pulls himself under too. He casts a silencing charm.
“Pads?”
“Mmph.”
“Right. How you doing?”
“Mrhgm.”
“Thought so. What's up?” Stupid question.
At that, Sirius dramatically turns himself over so he is facing James. He looks the epitome of distressed. “Why would he do that?” He hisses. “I genuinely don’t understand.”
James casts a silencing charm over Sirius’s bed. Over the years, he’s learned how to navigate Sirius’s brain. The way he speaks. His trains of thought. He can read him easily. “Elaborate.”
Sirius throws his hands up. “Oh, I don’t know. Going off having adventures with my death eater brother involving books, which, actually, makes sense for the both of them- and then saying nothing about it. Lying to me when I ask. Traitorous dickwad.” James doesn’t mention his recent activities. It seems like the wrong time.
“Wait- Remus or Regulus?”
Sirius growls. “Both.”
“Maybe Remus can’t tell you.”
“Really, James? That's your excuse? He can’t tell me?”
“Have you tried- and this is just a thought here- talking to him about it?”
“Down at the party. You were literally there.”
“Ok. Well. I don’t know if that was so much talking as angrily confronting-”
“It doesn’t matter.” Sirius waves his hand. “He’ll tell me or he won't. I’ll forgive him or I won’t.”
“You’ll forgive him.” James is confident in that much, at least.
There is silence for a while. Sirius breaks it. “I haven’t forgiven Regulus.”
More silence. “I know.”
“I don’t think I can.”
“...I know.”
“Can you? Can you forgive him?”
“No.”
In the dark, Sirius nods. “At least I’ve got one real friend.” He's being sarcastic, but James has known him long enough to find the truth in the words. Guilt burns his stomach. He is becoming awfully used to the feeling.
“Talk to Remus, Pads. Seriously.”
“Eh? Serio-” Sirius is cut off by a pillow to the face from James.
“No.”
“Ugh! Fine.”
More silence.
“You wanna know what pisses me off the most?”
James waits. Sirius keeps talking. “I took so much shit for him. Regulus, I mean. I took so much shit for him. So many hits, cuts, whatever. Yet he refused to talk about it. Ever. Never once thanked me, which, fine, ok, I don’t need thanks. But you know. Once I… got out, I expected to see him covered in bruises and cuts. After all, his shield was gone. I was gone. But he was just totally fine. Not a scar in sight. Which begged the question: did I need to take those punishments? If he's fine on his own, did I even need to do that to myself in the first place?”
James considers this. “I don’t think that was ever something you should’ve had to do. Ever.” He can practically feel Sirius’s eye roll next to him. He ignores it. “I just- I wouldn’t be sure he’s fine, Pads. He’s still in that house.”
“I know that.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I know you do. It’s just. I don’t know. I don’t think he’s fine.”
Sirius turns away from him. “He’s a lot fucking better than I ever was.”
James lets his eyes sink shut. He's just so tired. “Yeah. You're probably right.”
Next to him, Sirius stays quiet.
Maybe James Potter has always hated Regulus Black. Or maybe he’s just tried so hard to.