Weather
Dumbledore stays seated calmly at his desk, but Regulus nearly trips over himself in an attempt to get away from him. “Mr. Black-”
“Stop.” Regulus presses his hands tighter over his ears.
“Is Sirius at all still loyal to the Black Family?”
“No.” Regulus grits out. He needs to get out of here.
“I order you to stay in this room, Mr. Black.”
Regulus glares at him, ignoring the terror swirling just behind his anger. “Fuck you.”
Dumbledore seems unfazed. “What were the orders Voldemort gave you?”
Regulus reaches the door and throws it open desperately. Hand moving to cover his mouth in an attempt to jumble his words. He slips out of the office just as they leave his lips.
“I have to gather the Basilisk’s fangs without killing it.” He hopes they were unintelligible enough to be worthless. He can’t be certain Dumbledore didn’t hear, but he can pray.
“Mr. Black!” Dumbledore calls after him, but he’s already running.
---
When James checks the map next, it’s to find Sirius. They’re supposed to have Quidditch practice in twenty minutes, and he’s nowhere to be found. He finds his name eventually, in the charms classroom with Moony. James sighs. He’ll leave them to it.
Before he closes the map, though, he looks for another name. It’s a subconscious habit he’s picked up recently; just checking Regulus’s whereabouts quickly. There’s no reason for it- just something instinctual.
But Regulus’s name isn’t on the map. Which would be odd for anyone else, but James has learned by now that just means he’s in the Come and Go room. But they aren't scheduled to meet until tomorrow, which means Regulus is there on his own accord.
James frowns. Quidditch practice can wait; he’ll just be a tad late. This feels more important, somehow.
When he opens the door to the Come and Go room, he finds Regulus curled up on the couch, knees drawn to his chest. He looks up sharply when James enters.
“Hey,” Regulus says quietly.
“Hi. What are you doing here? I thought we weren't supposed to meet until tomorrow?”
“Dumbledore spiked my tea with Veritaserum. I’m waiting in here until the effects fade.”
“What?” James hisses, a sudden flash of anger spiking through him. He lets his bag fall off his shoulder to the floor. “He spiked your tea?”
“Yes.” Regulus avoids his eyes.
“Reg, that's awful. We have to do something, go to Mcgonangal or Slughorn or someone-”
“There’s no point.”
James rubs his hands over his eyes, frustrated. “There is a point. He can’t go around poisoning students-”
“Yes, he can.”
James sighs. Decides to deal with it later. “Why haven’t you made an antidote yet?”
“I don’t know how. I could figure it out, but I’d be using the ingredients we’re saving for your dad’s cure.”
What?
That can’t be right.
Can it?
James stares at him. “What?”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “You heard me.”
“No, I know what you said- but Reg, we can find more ingredients, you don’t have to… do this.”
“It’s ok.” Regulus sighs. “I’ll wait it out.”
James crosses to the couch and sinks down next to him. “I’ll wait with you.”
“No.”
“Yes.” James settles in.
“James-”
“I won’t ask too many questions, if you want.”
“I- that’s not what I’m worried about. You have classes, and practice-”
“First of all, its the weekend-”
“Ok, so homework then.”
“I can do that here.” James gets an idea. “How about this: do you want me to stay?”
Regulus glares daggers at him. “...Yes.” It’s reluctant, but it’s the truth either way.
James grins triumphantly. “Wonderful.”
---
Regulus decides he’s in hell. That must be it. Because there’s simply no other explanation for all… this. He crosses his arms, bitter.
James leans back against the cushions, watching him. Regulus imagines him catching fire, burning up into a crisp and disintegrating, right there on the couch. To his chagrin, James stays undeniably solid.
Regulus has never felt so vulnerable.
“Is it ok if I ask you some questions, though? Nothing too personal, I promise.” James blinks at him from behind his glasses, and Regulus sighs.
What the hell. It’s not like he has any control over his answer, anyway.
“Yes.”
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Green.”
“How very Slytherin of you.”
Regulus just rolls his eyes.
“Favorite dessert?”
“Bread pudding.”
“Aha! I knew I got it right.”
“It’s a common food.”
“Do you genuinely think we won’t be able to find a cure for my dad?”
Regulus takes a breath in shock, bites his lip. The answer comes slower to him this time. “I don’t know. I’m- I’m not sure.”
“Are you hiding anything else- I mean injury wise? Besides the cut on your cheek?”
Regulus tilts his head, puzzled. Why does that matter? “No.”
James exhales softly. “Good.” He looks down. “I feel bad, asking you stuff. When you can’t say no.”
“It’s ok,” Regulus says honestly. “I don’t mind.”
James nods. His face twists a bit, but he still opens his mouth. “Do you really hate me?”
Not even a little bit.
“...No.”
James laughs. “See! I told you you’d come around. Everyone does.” He pauses. “Did you ever? Hate me, I mean.”
“Yes.” Regulus meets James’ eyes. “I did.”
“Oh.” There’s a second of silence. “Why?”
Regulus shrugs. “Sirius chose you. What else was I supposed to do?” It’s a little too real, a little too close to everything Regulus works so hard to keep buried. A cut that goes a little too deep. He wants to cover his face, turn away, look down. He forces himself to hold James’s gaze instead.
“He didn’t choose me, you know. It was just, I don’t know. I was safe.” James brings a hand down over his face.
Safe.
Regulus stays quiet.
“I wish you two would just talk.”
“We do.”
James waves his hand dismissively. “No, not whatever that is. That’s not talking. That’s just insults, fire and ice. It’s not helpful.”
Fire and ice.
It’s always been that way- Sirius burns hot and Regulus freezes. Since the beginning.
“I don’t want to talk to him.” He surprises himself with the words.
“I know.” James lets his head rest back against the cushion, staring at Regulus. “I don’t think he does either, not after that night.”
Regulus looks away, finally. He’s not sure this conversation is any better than the one with Dumbledore. “Is that what you mean?” He asks quietly. “When you say you were safe? Do you mean because of what happened that night?”
“Yes and no.” James closes his eyes for a second. “Even before that. He looked at you and saw that house. I was… different.”
“Right.”
James chews his cheek. Regulus sighs. “I can see there’s something you really want to ask me, so just go ahead.”
“It’s just- why’d you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Cut Sirius. He still has a scar, you know.”
The waters rise. Regulus knows. “I didn’t mean to,” He whispers. “I didn’t want to. I couldn’t stop her.”
“But-”
“It’s not like I had a choice.”
“There’s always a choice, Reg.”
“Have you ever been Imperioed?”
Shit.
He’s said too much.
“...What?” James’s voice is quiet.
“Forget it.”
“No. You were imperioed?”
“Yes.” The answer’s ripped out quickly.
“Why didn’t you tell Sirius? He thinks… I mean, he doesn’t know that.”
“He doesn’t deserve the truth. If he just assumes I would willingly do that to him- I’ll let him.”
James frowns. “He…”
Regulus waits, but James doesn’t continue, apparently seeing the logic in his argument. It doesn’t feel like a victory.
James grabs a pillow, tracing its pattern. “So you only hated me because of Sirius?”
“Mostly. Yes.”
“What do you mean by most-”
Regulus shakes his head quickly, cutting him off. “Please don’t.” He can’t answer that, not right now.
James nods. “Ok.” He looks down. “I thought I hated you too, for a while. If that helps. I don’t think I ever did, though. I was just… confused. And then you agreed to help my dad, and honestly, how could I ever hate you after that?”
When he inevitably starts to respond, James’s eyes widen and he claps a hand over Regulus’s mouth. Nevertheless, Regulus whispers it anyway, lips moving against James’s fingers. All the awful things he’s done. All the awful things he’s going to do. Every sin, every death. Every reason James should hate him, the potion drawing them out of him like a leech. It’s silent, muffled, each confession lost to James’ warm skin. His whole body tingles.
Regulus hates touch- hates it when his hand as much as brushes against Barty's or even Pandora’s. But he thinks he’s holding it together pretty well right now, all things considered.
James pulls his hand away. “Sorry. That was rhetorical. I don’t think I want to know the answer to that one.” He shakes his head, laughing. “I don’t know why that was my first instinct. I should’ve asked… or thrown a pillow at you or something.”
Regulus bites back a shaky smile. “I don’t think a pillow would’ve helped.”
“You underestimate my pillow throwing abilities.”
“If they’re anything like your Chaser abilities, I think I’d survive.”
“Prick.”
“Tosser.”
James smiles, but it drops after a second. “Have… have you always hated me?”
Ah. Regulus didn’t want him to ask that one.
“No.” He tightens his hand into a fist. The veritaserum pushes at his stomach, demanding a more complex answer. The whole truth. He can’t give it to him.
I haven’t always hated you. Of course not. How could I? I’ve had a crush on you since I was eleven. Don’t you remember, James? You offered to shake my hand in that train compartment, and I couldn’t breathe.
The words crawl up his throat, threatening to escape. Regulus swallows them down, stands up quickly. Crosses to the table, gripping it until his knuckles turn white. Tries not to ruin everything. “Can we work on the cure now?” He chokes out. “If you’re still insistent on staying.”
He hears James stand up behind him. “Sure. That’s a good idea, actually. Are you sure you don’t want to make an antidote? I’m sure we can replace the ingredients.”
“I’m sure.”
“Alright.” James moves next to him. He reaches across the table to grab his notebook. “I had some ideas about goblin tears…”
When he straightens up, their shoulders brush, and Regulus has to shut his eyes.
---
“Alright.” Peter sets down a few books on the common room table. The fire crackles pleasantly nearby. “These are what I’ve found on magical artificial weather.”
Remus groans. “Tests are coming up. Are we sure this is the best time for a prank?”
Sirius grins at him across the table. “Absolutely. It’s the perfect time. Nobody’ll be expecting it.”
Remus nods. “I suppose we’ve gone relatively easy on them this year… alright.”
“Great.” Sirius throws open the books. “Wormy, where do you think the best place is?”
“7th floor hallways. No teachers up there right now but there are a bunch of classrooms.”
Remus frowns, peering over a page. “This isn’t going to be easy to fix.”
“That’s the point.”
Remus clears his throat. “Prongs, do you think we could use your cloak for all of us, or are we too big at this point?”
“James?”
James looks up. “Hm?”
“Are you listening?”
“Yeah.”
Sirius kicks him under the table and James yelps. “Liar.”
“Can we use your cloak?”
“Yeah. Where are we doing this again?”
Peter gives him a suspicious look. “...7th floor hallways.”
“Hm. Ok.”
“So… the cloak?”
“Right.” James jumps up.
---
They gather in the main hall on the 7th floor, speaking only in hushed whispers. They decided to split off, each taking a certain wing of the floor. Sirius and James head off together, pulling out their wands.
James points his at the ceiling, muttering “tempestate.” Instantly, the entire ceiling flickers and then transforms, dark gray rain clouds gathering.
The spell was supposed to be similar to that used in the Great Hall, designed to reflect the actual weather outside. They’d modified it a bit, making sure the actual effects of the weather would be felt as well, not just the appearance. Possibly a mistake, James thinks, as it begins to pour. Sirius groans and tries to pry some of his soaking wet hair out of his face.
“We should’ve at least looked out a window on the way here,” He hisses.
“You look like a drowned cat.”
“Shut it.”
They move on, casting the spell at each blank patch of ceiling they can find. James ducks away, just for a second, to ensure the area in front of Dumbledore’s staircase has a large thunderstorm gathering. Regulus may have been content to let him go free, but James isn’t.
When James and Sirius meet back up, they’re both adequately soaked. The rain doesn’t stop either, large puddles beginning to form on the floor.
“This is going to be hell for Filch,” James says, kicking a pool of water.
“Good. He’s gonna come running any second anyway.”
As if on cue, a clap of thunder booms out, and they hear an angry cry from somewhere down the hall.
“That sounded like him.”
“It certainly did.”
They turn on their heels and begin to run, just as they hear Filch’s footsteps pick up behind them. They skid, slipping in the water, unable to hold in their laughter.
“Come on,” James grabs Sirius’s arm and yanks him around a corner, the rain starting to come down hard.
“Shh,” Sirius hisses, but can’t stop the next fit of giggles.
James should’ve seen it coming, really. They are on the 7th floor, after all. He’d just left the Come and Go room a few mere hours ago, on this same floor, this same hallway.
So it shouldn’t be a surprise when they nearly run headlong into Regulus.
It shouldn’t.
But it is.
They both pull up short, the three of them staring at each other. James’s brain short-circuits; there’s little time to think. Behind them, Filch lets out another furious cry. They’d left the cloak with Moony and Wormtail, figuring they were faster runners anyway.
So, James does the only thing he can think of. He grabs both the brother’s arms and takes off, yanking them to the door he knows will appear. Ignoring Regulus’s panicked look, he pulls it open and shoves them inside, shutting the door behind them.
It’s dark, at first. All three of them are panting. James mutters a locking charm, and lights his wand. To his shock, they aren't in the potions lab. The room had transformed into a broom closet, a bucket and a few rags leaning up against the far wall. James smiles- the other name for the Come and Go room, as he’d recently learned: The Room of Requirement.
And what they’d required was a place to hide.
They can hear Filch’s footsteps approaching fast, still running full speed down the hall.
“What the fu-” Regulus starts to hiss, but Sirius cuts him off instantly, wand raised in a flash.
“Oscausi.” It’s whispered, quick, almost instinctual.
Instantly, Regulus claps a hand over his mouth, eyes going wide. Sirius’s chest rises and falls rapidly, staring at his brother. James takes a step forward, unsure of what just happened.
Outside, Filch’s footsteps come and go. Still, no one speaks.
When it’s safe, James looks between Sirius and Regulus. “Sirius? What did you do?”
Regulus still has his hands pressed over his mouth.
Sirius shakes his head, taking gasping breaths. “I don’t- I just wanted him to be quiet. I didn’t mean to-” He cuts himself off with a small choking noise.
James’s head snaps to Regulus, who’s fear has evidently turned to anger. James can see it in his eyes, glittering fury.
Cold.
“Regulus,” he says, but even his own voice sounds slightly strained. “Move your hands.”
Regulus doesn’t look at him, still staring at his brother. Slowly, he lowers his hands, and James takes a breath. Where his mouth should be, there’s a blank expanse of skin, as if it never existed in the first place.
“Sirius?” James turns to him for an explanation. “Couldn’t you just use a silencing charm?” He tries to keep the rising panic out of his voice.
“I- I just wanted him to stop talking- I didn’t-”
“Sirius. What’s the counter curse?”
Sirius shakily lifts his wand, hissing the counter and watching as Regulus’s mouth reappears. James rests a hand on his friend’s shoulder. He's trembling.
“Really?” Regulus hisses as soon as he’s able, and his voice matches his eyes. Furious. “Really, Sirius?”
“I didn’t mean to-”
“ I’m the coward? I’m the one who’s just like our parents?” Regulus’s words are laced with venom. His curls are slightly messy, falling in his face.
Sirius shakes his head, and James wants to pull him to his chest, protect him, fix whatever's happening.
“You could’ve used a silencing charm. You could’ve done literally anything else. You could’ve just told me to be quiet .”
“What’s going on?” James takes a step forward.
Regulus turns to James, who shrinks back a bit. “He used the same curse our mother does when she punishes us. When we’re not allowed to speak. Or eat.” There’s no forgiveness in his tone.
Something sinks in James’s chest. He remembers the look on Regulus’s face when the spell first hit, wide-eyed and scared. Young.
“I didn’t mean to.” Sirius whispers, and James keeps a hand on his shoulder.
“It’s fine. It’s fine now. Filch is gone.”
“Is that why you pulled me in here? To get away from Filch? I’m guessing that’s also why you’re both soaking wet?” Regulus still isn’t getting any kinder, and Sirius still isn’t breathing any easier. James glances nervously towards the door.
“Just get the fuck out, Reg.” Sirius mutters, wiping a hand down his face.
Regulus mutters the unlocking charm and the door clicks. He grabs the handle, turns to face them. He doesn’t look at James, eyes only for Sirius. “Si tu penses toujours que tu n'es pas son fils, tu devrais te regarder dans un miroir, Sirius.”
With that, he slips out and into the rain.