Because
Because I was with you.
The words run through James’s head like a carousel, sticking to every part of him that matters. He wants to hold them, cup them in his palm, admire them.
Regulus felt safe, when he was at his most vulnerable. He’d been as good as an open book, all his secrets at James's fingertips, and he’d felt safe.
Because I was with you.
Because he was with him.
Regulus had looked away when he said it, dark lashes fluttering, cheeks pinking. Soft. Embarrassed. James thought about when he first found him in the broom closet all those months ago, bloody and bruised and refusing to look at James in a much different way.
How far they’ve come.
He lets Sirius drag him away, keeping a firm grasp on the invisibility cloak. He stops by Filch’s office first.
“Sir, I’m done with my side. I think Black should finish soon.”
Filch sneers at him, but waves him away. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Potter.”
“Yes Sir.” James grins, then ducks out. He meets Sirius in the hall.
“You’re bloody welcome, Potter.”
“Yeah, yeah. Thanks.”
“Was Reg too much of an ass?”
Because I was with you.
“Not really actually. He- he just mostly stayed quiet.”
Sirius frowns like that wasn’t the answer he wanted, but doesn’t comment. “Pete had this great idea about the dining room candles…”
---
When James sees Regulus next, it’s in the come and go room. He’s standing over the cauldron on the table, head bent. He looks up when James enters. “I found some wartcap.”
He hands James a black handkerchief carefully. When he unfolds it, the small beige cubes rest in his hand. “So what- we crush it?”
Regulus shakes his head. “Grind it. Here.” He slides the mortar and pestle across the table, then walks around to join James.
He takes the cubes from him and begins to grind them in the mortar, focused. When he feels satisfied with his demonstration, he passes it back to James. He tries to mimic Regulus’s movements. “Like this?”
Regulus nods. “Perfect.”
Something inside James hums.
“Ok. Add it.” Regulus takes a step back and James walks up to the cauldron, tipping the white powder in carefully. He looks up and sees Regulus’s eyes fixed on the swirling liquid. He’s frozen in place.
James takes a step forward. “Reg?”
Regulus begins to unconsciously pick at his fingernails, and James flashes back to an alcove behind the statue in the hall, drops of blood landing on a newspaper. Nope. Not happening. He reaches out and catches Regulus’s hands, separating them.
“Regulus,” He says softly, and something in Reg seems to snap back into place, eyes flicking up to meet his. “You need to show me which direction to stir the potion.”
“...Right. Yes. Ok. Three times counterclockwise.” His voice is shaky, but he’s present. Regulus tucks his hands in his trouser pockets and James takes a step back, satisfied.
“Thanks for the sleeping draughts. They help loads.” James stirs cautiously, watching as the potion turns from violet to a bright green, releasing a sweet plume of smoke.
Regulus shifts on his feet. “You looked like you were about to pass out.”
“Well, not anymore thanks to you.” He sniffs and wrinkles his nose. “Is it done?”
“I think so, yeah.” Regulus pours it out and caps the vials. James stares at them. “Let’s go send them.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
“Alright.” Regulus collects them carefully and puts them into a bag. “We can grab a package at the owlery.”
They make their way up. Regulus stands at the window, looking out as James writes his Dad a note. Begging him to take the potions, telling him he misses him. Telling him he loves him.
James holds the package still as Regulus ties it to the bird. They lock eyes for a second, and James could swear he’s never seen that color grey anywhere else. “Thank you,” He whispers, and Regulus’s lips part slightly. His chest rises, falls.
“Just send the package, Potter.”
And so he does.
---
Regulus finds the note tucked into one of Slytherin’s books. It falls to the floor when he opens it.
What is this? He asks the Basilisk, but doesn’t get a response. He picks it up, unfolding it gingerly. A small heaping of dust lands on the ground.
Godric,
I miss you. I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. I miss your touch. I miss your words. I miss your lips. I wish this fighting would cease. Rowenna’s being unnecessarily ardent about this issue, as per usual. I’m sorry to be separated so much from you, but I can not be around the rest of them when they’re like this. I long for you, mon soleil. Come back to me.
Salazar
Regulus stands, anchored to the spot, staring at the paper. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. ‘I miss your lips?’ he asks the Basilisk. What- what does…
But it's abundantly clear what that means. Regulus crosses to the bed and sits down. They were… together?
The Basilisk flicks its tongue. I don’t know what you mean.
They were, um, he struggles to find the words, throat tight. A couple?
He was my master's sun.
Oh. Yeah. Right. Regulus sets down the note. He feels shaky all over. Sala- your master, he was… gay? Even all these years later, the word still feels tingly on his tongue. It tastes like fear. For Gryffindor of all people?
The Basilisk just tips its head. He was my master’s sun.
Yes. You mentioned. He presses a hand over his eyes, laying back against the covers. He does his best to sort out the swirling emotions curling inside him.
When he had been 9 and Sirius 10, they’d trapped themselves in a closet. It was entirely intentional, hiding from their mother to avoid music lessons. They’d giggled softly, trying their best to stay quiet. “She’ll never find us here.” Sirius had whispered.
Regulus had pressed his smile into his brother’s shoulder. “What if she does?”
Sirius had shrugged. “Don’t worry. I’ll tell her it was my idea.”
Regulus' grin had faltered at that. “No, Siri, I-”
“It’s fine, Reg. And hey, once we get to Hogwarts, we won’t have to practice our music anymore. We won't have to hide in closets.”
Regulus had looked down, studying the pattern of dust ingrained into the floorboards. “What happens next year though? When you go and I stay?”
“I’ll write all the time. And don’t worry. It’s just one year. Then we’ll be together again.”
“Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
He’d been a liar, even then.
Regulus had nodded. “Ok. Ok, good.”
“And we’ll have all new friends at school, and we can eat as much as we want, anytime.” Sirius had poked him in the side. “And we can join Quidditch. And clubs. And anything we want. And we can get girlfriends, and visit them during the holidays. Maybe we won’t have to go home at all.”
Nine year old Regulus had wrinkled his nose. “Girlfriends? Why?”
Sirius had smirked his ten-year-old smirk at him in the dark. “You know… to do girlfriend things with.”
Regulus had read about these “girlfriend things” in his books. They never seemed much his style. “I don’t want a girlfriend.”
Sirius had chuckled. “Why not?”
“I don’t like girls. I don’t know why anyone would ever want to date one.” He said honestly. He’d never had a single friend that was a girl. The only ones he knew well were his mother and cousins. The girls he'd seen passing on the street were much too frilly, and never even bothered to apologize when they ran into him. They were far too impolite.
Something in Sirius’s smile had faded. “You can’t say that.”
Regulus just blinked at him. “It’s not a big deal. I just don’t like girls.”
“Do you… I mean… do you like anyone?”
Regulus shrugs. “Not now. But if I did, it would never be a girl.”
Siriuss face turned to stone. “You can’t say that. I mean it. Promise me you won’t say that. Especially around Mother.”
Regulus had been confused. “Why?”
“She won’t be happy, and I can’t take the blame for this one. You like girls, ok? You like girls a lot. Promise me.”
“I… I promise?”
“No, Reg, I need you to say it. Say you like girls.”
Regulus pulled his knees up to his chest. “Mother says we must never lie.” What did it matter, anyway?
“I know. I know. But you have to, just about this. Say it, Reg.” Sirius had looked genuinely afraid.
Regulus took a deep breath. “I like girls.”
Sirius had nodded, relieved, and sat back with a sigh. Regulus had stared at him through the dark. “I don’t understand.”
“I know, Reggie. I’m sorry.”
“But-”
“Sh!” Sirius had shushed him suddenly, hand covering his mouth. Footsteps approached outside the door.
“Are you in there?” Walburga rapped on the door, rough. Regulus went to answer her, but Sirius pressed his hand harder against his mouth.
“Hiding is cowardly. I expect better.” Her heels clicked, as if she was shifting from foot to foot. “Well, If you insist on staying in there…” There was a muttered spell and the handle twisted, locking. “...then stay in there. Hide.”
Sirius instantly threw himself at the door, but it was too late. The knob didn’t budge. He cursed, and Regulus tried not to cry.
They were locked in there for the night and all of the next day. When the door opened again, Walburga found Regulus curled up, head in Sirius’s lap. Both of them were asleep.
Back in the Chamber, Regulus turns the note over in his hand. Slytherin and Gryfindor… well, the Basilisk’s comments were reason for suspicion, but this was confirmation. They were together.
Regulus knows he’s not into girls. He’s known it as long as he’s known people can be into other people at all.
Maybe Slytherin knew it too.
So this room… when Gryfindor was down here, this was their meeting spot? Regulus twists to look at the Basilisk.
She hisses. Yes. He’d come down through the Chamber and back to this room. He was perfectly nice, though he couldn’t talk to me.
Right. Was… was your master only with… other men?
I never saw him with anyone else. The Basilisk let its head rest on the ground.
Hm.
Regulus has gotten good at burying that particular secret. Whenever he was little and his mother invaded his head, he’d drag up images of Sirius’s posters, girls in various states of undress. He’d focus on the flashes of pale skin and underwear. He still doesn’t know if his Mother could see through him. If she could, she never brings it up. Then again, maybe it’s better for the both of them that she doesn't.
He knows now what Sirius felt, when his face dropped in that closet. He knows how dangerous the truth can be.
That doesn’t stop him from falling asleep most nights to thoughts of curly hair and brown eyes.
Regulus rips himself out of his thoughts. But… he didn’t care? About you being here? Godric, I mean.
I think they fought about it. I am not sure. I couldn’t understand them half the time.
That would make sense. Regulus bites his lip, still confused.
What did you do today?
I… I finished up a project. Regulus thinks about the green potions, swirling inside their vials. His fingers tingle. He’d had… a moment, earlier. The powder had fallen from the mortar into the cauldron, and all Regulus could see was the wormwood spiraling from his palm and mixing into that sleeping draught. It was almost like he could sense the Dark Lord’s presence from behind him, watching. Waiting. He felt it again, the powder under his nails, an acid destroying him from the outside in.
Then James had caught his hands and met his eyes, and Regulus remembered where he was. The powder was murtlap, not wormwood. He was curing somebody, not killing them. He was helping.
Why not work on your projects down here?
Regulus blinks at her in surprise. You’d want me around more? Even though I’d have to blind you?
The basilisk hisses quietly, staying silent for a moment, as if it’s thinking. I don’t… mind.
You don’t mind? Regulus cocks his head.
…No one’s talked to me in so long.
Regulus feels unexpected tears press at the back of his eyes, throat closing. He swallows. I’ll come down more, if you like.
Bring your sun, one day.
Regulus almost laughs at the thought of James face to face with the Basilisk. Oh, that won’t be happening. I’m sure he doesn’t like snakes.
Godric didn’t like snakes, but he came around.
Regulus looks back at the note, smirking. I’m sure he did. Suddenly another thought occurs to him. Wait, how gross is this bed? Should I not be sitting on it? He half rises. The Basilisk just flicks its tongue, staying silent.
Regulus moves to the chair.
---
“We’ll be having a drill next week on Tuesday, during 5th period.” Dumbledore grips the podium, surveying the students over his spectacles. “It will be a repeat of the lockdown from earlier this year. You’ll be moved into the nearest classroom and the doors will be locked. I promise this is just a preventative practice measure.”
James makes eye contact with Sirius across the table, who just raises his brows and shrugs.
Dumbledore’s still talking. “The drill will only last 30 minutes. We just want to ensure your safety after some recent attacks.”
“This is fucking ridiculous,” Marlene hisses. “Being locked in a classroom won’t help if death eaters get into the castle.”
Lily elbows her. “They just want to make sure we’re safe. Can’t really have a bunch of first years fighting off Voldemort can we?”
“Ugh.” Marlene crosses her arms. “I mean- do we really need to practice ?”
James leans over. “I don’t mind a break from classes.”
Remus narrows his eyes at him. “You’ll be in your free period then.”
“And of course you don’t.” Lily hisses.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She just gives him a look, and he flashes her a grin. “Some of us actually need to study for exams, Potter.”
“Oh, take thirty minutes off Evans. It’ll be good for you.”
“I’ll have you know-”
But Dumbledore cuts her off again. “Most likely you will be with your class at the time of the drill. The announcement will reinstate that it is not real. If the announcement ever fails to do so, trust that it is no longer a drill and there is an actual reason for lockdown. In both cases, it’s imperative you stay in whichever room you end up in.”
James just sighs.
---
Regulus lets his bag drop onto the ground, perching himself on the courtyard wall next to Evan. “What do you have 5th period tuesdays?”
“Charms. You?”
“Nothing. Free period.” Regulus looks out across the grass.
“Do you know if anything happened? Is there a reason we’re practicing? Is he preparing for something in the future?”
“I don’t know anything.”
Evan kicks his feet a bit. “They don’t tell you-”
“They don’t tell me shit.”
He can feel Evan's eyes on him. “Right.” A bird chirps. “Reg?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you- are you... alright?”
Regulus blinks at him. “What?”
“You’re gone constantly nowadays. We never see you. And you just- mate, you look so tired.”
“Thanks.”
Evan narrows his eyes, but says nothing. Regulus bites his cheek. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”
Evan looks like he wants to say something else, but someone’s stopped walking right in front of them, blocking the sun.
Sirius.
“Hey, little brother. Shall we have a chat?” Regulus can hear the sneer in his voice. He wants to crawl away, into himself. He stands his ground instead.
Regulus says “I’d rather not, actually. Thank you, though.” at the same time Evan says “Fuck off, Black.”
“Mm. How was your break?”
“Oh, just peachy.”
“Did your ‘Dark Lord’ happen to mention any future plans? Possibly pertaining to this lockdown drill?”
Regulus can feel himself tense, but works to keep his face expressionless. “I’m flattered you think I’m so important.”
“Being close to Voldemort isn’t a compliment.” Sirius’s eyes lock on his. Regulus tries not to flinch. Sirius turns to Evan. “What about you, Rosier? Your family has connections. Have you heard anything?”
“Oh, are you talking to me?” Evan blinks up at him. “As if I’d tell you shit, Black.”
“Yeah? Maybe I’ll just ask your Mum. She’d be more willing to help, wouldn’t she?”
Evan half rises from the wall. Regulus makes a mental note to ask him about that later. “You-”
“Implique-le pas là-dedans.” Regulus grits.
“Or what?” Sirius has that glint in his eye, the one Regulus has grown long familiar with after years of watching him defy whatever was currently expected of him. “Si rapide à défendre, Reg. Here I thought that was a Gryffindor’s job. Haven’t you heard? His mother-”
French has always been easier for Regulus. He knows Sirius hates it; that’s why he uses it so much. It’s ridiculously easy to slip into around him, years of punishments surfacing the second Regulus sees his face.
“Vous êtes du genre à parler about mothers.” Regulus practically hisses. Both Evan and Sirius freeze.
Shit.
That last part wasn’t French.
“Careful, Reg.” Sirius’s grin is sharp. “Your snake is showing.”
Regulus stands quickly, grabbing his bag. He feels Evan shift next to him, but he can’t be here any longer. Can’t look at Sirius any more than he needs to. “I’m going to class,” he mutters, already walking away.
The bell doesn’t ring for another twenty minutes.
---
“Something’s wrong.”
“Nothings wrong.”
“No, somethings wrong. You’re thinking.”
“That’s not unusual.”
“For you it is.”
“Prongs-”
“Pads.”
“I hate you.”
James reaches out and ruffles Sirius’s hair. “I know mate.”
Remus is laying on the bed between them, reading. He flips the page quietly, but James knows he’s listening.
“I… ran into Regulus.” Sirius pointedly looks away, out the window.
“Oh?” James feels Remus tense slightly where his knee’s touching his leg.
“Well. Ran into him’s a bit of a stretch.”
“What happened? What did you do?”
Sirius sends him a look. “Nothing! I- I went up to talk to him. I was being civil.” James raises a brow. “Ok, not civil, per se, but nicer than normal.”
“Go on.”
“I mean, I asked him how his break went. That’s gotta count for something.”
James pictures Regulus in the doorway of the come and go room, cut on his cheek and looking utterly exhausted. “What did he say?”
Sirius frowned. “He said it was- peachy. That’s not the issue though.”
“What’s the issue?”’
“He- he left. Like, quickly. He barely continued the conversation at all. He just got up and left.”
Oh. That’s. That’s good. Right? “Still struggling to see the issue.”
“Nothing. It’s nothing. It’s just odd, ‘s all.”
“Hm.” Maybe James will bring it up with Regulus. Maybe he’ll give him an honest answer.
Because I was with you.
Fuck.
James runs a hand over his face, squeezing his eyes shut. He needs to just- stop. He needs to cut off whatever he can feel happening inside himself, because while he has yet to identify it he knows himself well enough to be sure it can’t be anything good. When he blinks, Remus is staring at him with narrowed eyes. He’s about to comment on it when Sirius continues.
“Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. Forget I said anything. Moony, go back to your book.”
Remus hums contentedly and flips another page. James watches Sirius watch Remus, gaze half lidded and cheeks slightly pink. He looks, if anything, mesmerized. Calm.
The thing inside him twists, wrapping around his heart and squeezing. Finding his lungs. Choking him.
Because I was with you.