Have me
Regulus keeps his hands in his pockets for the whole walk down to the lake. Next to him, Barty shapes a small snowball between his mitten-less fingers. “God, I wish things would get more exciting around here.”
“What do you mean?” Dorcas asks, linking arms with Pandora.
“I don’t know- there’s nothing happening. I want to do something. I mean, Reg, you’ve gotta agree with me, right? I feel like things are so much more exciting out in the real world.”
“Mmm.” Regulus hums, not really listening.
“This is the real world, Barty,” Pandora sighs. “You’d rather be here than home.”
Barty’s face darkens at that. They know not to bring up his Dad- nothing good ever comes of that conversation. “Yeah, I suppose. But still.”
“You could try doing your classwork once and a while,” Evan suggests, and Barty sends him a glare.
“How’s classwork gonna teach me to fight?”
“I’m just saying.”
“Sure you are.” Barty wraps his arms around himself, shivering slightly. He pointedly did not listen when Evan suggested he grab a scarf, and evidently is now regretting it.
They reach the edge of the lake, and all stop. Dorcas lets out a breath. “It’s beautiful.”
“It is,” Pandora agrees, nose pink from the cold. The ice has taken over the lake, turning it into a blinding and flat expanse of white. Snow drifts from heavy clouds, dusting their hair and shoulders. They carefully make their way to the rock beach at the shore, huddled together.
Regulus stares down through the ice. What did the merpeople do during the winter, when their water turned frigid and the sunlight vanished?
He gets his answer a second later, when a face suddenly presses up against the ice below him. Pale skin, angry eyes, head flush against the hard surface. Regulus jumps back, startled, and the face disappears back into the depths. He looks up to find his friends staring at him.
Dorcas cocks her head. “What was that?”
He swallows, stares back at the ice. “Nothing.”
Pandora leans her head on his shoulder. “I imagine the merpeople are as desperate for summer as we are,” she whispers.
He feels his lips twitch into a smile. “I guess they must be.” He looks up and out again, across the lake. The white snow, rapidly covering the ice, sparkles a little in the light. He watches as his breath fogs the air in little clouds, and finds himself wishing he could stay here forever. That’s the difference between him and the merpeople, he figures. He doesn’t miss summer- dreads it, actually. Hates the sun and the sticky heat and his parent’s ever watchful gaze. The oppressive darkness that seems to stick to him like sweat.
He’s more than happy to stay here as long as he can.
Next to him, Barty picks up a large rock, preparing to throw it through the ice. Evan tackles him before he gets the chance, back into the snowbank. “Don’t even think about it,” he grits as Barty tries to toss the rock anyway. They wrestle, covered in snow and grinning. Dorcas whistles. Regulus smiles.
“If you two want to fuck so badly, would you mind saving it for your dorm? Some of us are trying to appreciate at the view.”
Instantly, Barty and Evan stop, separating in a flash. Snape, Mulciber, Wilkes, Lestrange and Avery stand over them, Avery’s lip curled.
Regulus snakes a hand into his coat, grabbing his wand. Next to him, Dorcas does the same.
“The fuck did you just say, Avery?” Barty’s on his feet in a second. Evan follows shortly after.
“You heard me, bloody fa-”
Pandora shoots the first jinx. Avery cries out as a swarm of locusts pour from his ears. Dorcas and Regulus jump up on the bank next to Barty and Evan, wands fully drawn. No one moves except for Avery, who’s doubled over and clutching the sides of his head.
“How’s your face feeling Black?” Snape jeers. “Charmed away that bruise, have you?”
“Still looks better than yours, I’d imagine.” Regulus feels Pandora find her place next to him. “What do you three want?”
“Oh, we just saw you over here enjoying Rosier and Crouch’s bent little show and decided to pay a visit. We heard about your run in with Severus the other day.” Mulciber waves his wand and Avery, apparently cured, straightens with a growl. “You bitch.” Pandora just shrugs.
“Snape got what was coming to him,” Evan has his own wand out too. Regulus didn’t tell him what happened, which means Evan’s just blindly trusting him. Regulus sends him a silent thank you.
“Somehow Filch bought your scheme,” Snape hisses. “I had to spend a whole day with Slughorn, decapitating mudworms.”
Dorcas tsks. “Must’ve been hard to violate your own kin like that, Snape. Awful sorry.”
Snape growls and takes a step forward. “Stay out of this, Meadows. Just because you follow Black around like a puppy doesn’t mean you aren't a half-mud cunt-”
Barty, Evan, and Regulus all send curses for him at the same time. Snape deflects Evan and Regulus’s, but howls when Barty’s hits him square in the chest. Immediately red boils pop out across his cheeks. All hell breaks loose. Mulciber swings his wand around, and Regulus barely has time to deflect the sharp blue light that shoots towards him.
Next to him Pandora falls to the ground after a curse from Avery hits her in the shoulder. Avery’s on her in a second, pinning her down. He straddles her, fingers digging into her arm. Pointing his wand at her head. She cries out in pain, but when Regulus whips around Mulciber hits him with a cutting curse in the thigh.
He sends another hex at Mulciber, who sneers and jumps forward. Regulus blocks the rest of them out. It’s just them now. Mulciber hits him in the arm and Regulus recognizes the spell instantly. Diffindo - the cutting curse. A gash opens across his forearm, matching his thigh, and Regulus hisses in pain.
“Flagrante.” Regulus tries not to stumble in the snow. A burn spreads across Mulcibers cheek. His scream catches Avery’s attention, previously engaged with Pandora. Suddenly there are two spells heading for Regulus’s head, and he has to nearly throw himself down to duck.
He sends two more curses out in rapid succession and catches sight of Barty tackling Snape to the ground. Wilkes and Lestrange are taking on Dorcas and Evan, and Pandora seems to be unmoving on the snow. Something dark and angry tears through Regulus’s chest at the sight.
He dodges another spell and sends an inflation jinx at Mulciber. “Feeling adventurous today, Black?” Avery growls. “Care for a swim?”
A curse hits him and Regulus is suddenly on his back, sliding towards the lake. He grabs onto a rock, but his fingers slip.
Shit.
Dorcas calls his name, and suddenly he slams to a stop. He looks up to thank Dorcas, but looming over him is none other than Remus Lupin.
Well. Isn’t this embarrassing.
Regulus shoves himself to his feet, looking around. Lupin, Pettigrew, Sirius and James all have their wands out, helping Regulus’s friends. All Regulus can do is stare for a moment, dumbstruck. Then Lupin is shoving his shoulder, pushing him into action. Immediately Regulus hits Avery with a jinx that sends him flying across the snow.
He stalks over, standing above him. Pandora’s still not moving, and the sight turns Regulus’s blood into ice. Sharp. Fracturing. “Petrificus Totalus.” Avery’s body goes stiff against the snow. Regulus points his wand at his chest. “Reducio .” Avery starts to gasp for breath, eyes wide. His face goes purple as a high breathy whine squeaks through his throat. Regulus feels himself grinning, sharp and pointy, as Avery’s chest noticeably begins to dip where his lungs are rapidly shrinking beneath his ribs.
Someone’s calling his name. Next to him, Evan and Wilkes are still exchanging spells. Pettigrew is crouched over Pandora, hands fumbling with his wand. Regulus can’t breathe through his anger, and neither can Avery below him, choking and gasping. His eyes are bulging, and the sounds are starting to quiet.
Regulus doesn’t care.
Avery's eyes go unnaturally wide and Regulus feels nothing but an ugly satisfaction.
“Regulus!” Someone catches his arm. Regulus looks up, furious. A matching pair of grey eyes holds his own. Sirius. “Reg. Stop.” His voice stays calm, direct. And for some godforsaken reason, that does it. It cuts through the haze Pandora’s unconscious body drowned him in. He looks back down at Avery, whose mouth is slightly open. A trickle of blood runs down his chin. Regulus spits the counter curse, and Avery retches and gasps, still caught in a body bind. Wilkes is there in a second, grabbing him. Rolling him to the side, countering the bind. There are tears resting on his lashes as a trail of spit and blood drips onto the snow.
Sirius squeezes his arm. Regulus looks back at him, and for a second it’s just them. Shockingly, Regulus finds no judgment reflected in his eyes. Just a heart wrenchingly terrible and familiar understanding. “She’s ok,” Sirius mutters, and Regulus’s chest rises, falls. “She’ll be ok.” He repeats, and Regulus forces himself to nod. To put his walls back up.
Sirius’s gaze flicks down to Avery with disgust, and he kicks him sharply in the side. Someone, a teacher probably, shouts from the top of the lawn. Wilkes yanks Avery to his feet, and the rest of them take off running. Regulus turns to find Evan and Pettigrew lifting Pandora, supporting her weight.
“Reg!” Dorcas calls. “We have to go.”
Regulus nods and takes off, Barty, James, Sirius and the others following closely behind. Lupin calls for them to go ahead, turning to face whatever teacher will be shortly arriving at the scene. He’s the least covered in blood or various residual hex-effects; and a prefect.
They round the back of the castle before they stop, gasping for breath. Regulus leg buckles and the pain rushes in. He grabs the wall for support, sinking down slowly. Blood trickles down to his ankle.
Pandora.
“Dora?” He gasps, looking up, searching for Evan.
“She’ll be fine.” Pettigrew lowers her to the ground. Regulus grits his teeth.
“I wasn’t asking you.”
Evan catches his eye. “She’ll be ok- just a knockout curse and a bit of stinging hex.”
Regulus exhales softly. Dorcas is still bent over, gasping. Barty stands next to her, panting but managing to maintain his glare. “We didn’t need your fucking help,” He hisses, directed at the Gryffindors.
“Yeah, you were obviously doing wonderfully on your own,” Sirius starts, taking a step forward. Dorcas and Pettigrew groan and go to interfere, leaving Evan to fuss over Pandora.
Regulus looks up as James crouches in front of him. “Who-”
“Mulciber.” Regulus answers, hand still firmly on his thigh, covering his wound. He tries to ignore the things James's proximity is doing to his stomach.
James’s eyes darken. “Ok. You need to go to Madam Pomfrey.”
Regulus shakes his head. “I can’t. I- not with Avery, and… I can’t.”
“Then heal it. Reg, you have to stop the bleeding.” James’s eyes are wide and concerned, and Regulus ignores the way his chest responds. It’s just the blood loss, he tells himself. He’ll be fine in a minute.
“Episky, then?”
“Yeah. Shit.” James chuckles, and Regulus knows he’s thinking about the broom closet all those months ago. He points his wand at Regulus’s thigh, muttering the charm. Mortifingly, Regulus grabs James’s arm with his bloody hand, holding it tightly as a bout of pain wracks through his leg. He forces himself to breathe, and then to let go, in that order.
“Sorry,” he mutters. Next to them, Barty and Sirius are still arguing.
“Your arm,” James murmurs. Dorcas has just cut in; which means they don’t have a lot of time before their distraction resolves itself.
Regulus presents his arm, and James heals it quickly. Regulus forces himself to keep his eyes open, keeping his hands to himself this time.
“You ok?” James asks softly.
“Mhm.” Regulus tips his head back against the wall, watching James through half-lids. He’s so tired. “You should go get Sirius before he and Barty start the whole thing up again.”
“Right. Right. Yeah.” James looks him over, gaze catching on his collarbone and face, landing on his eyes. He lets out a small breath, and Regulus can practically feel the adrenaline starting to leak out of him. Relief and reality setting in. “Fuck, Reg,” He chokes out, he’s just so- close. Regulus could count his lashes. He can feel his breath on his face. It’s warm. Regulus swallows, trying to get his heartbeat under control, trying to remind himself that James doesn’t think like that. Doesn’t feel like that.
“Go get Sirius and Pettigrew and find Lupin. Leave our names out of this. Ok, James? Can you do that?”
“Yeah. yeah. I’ll- I’ll go get them.” James rises, looking Regulus over one more time. “I’ll see you later.”
”Go.”
James grabs Sirius’s arm, leaning in to whisper something in his ear. Sirius immediately looks at him, gives him his full attention, and nods. They gather Pettigrew, and with a final look back at the Slytherins, they leave.
“Well.” Barty starts, staring after them. “I guess that was ‘something’.”
Dorcas groans and tips her head into her hands. “You got your bloody wish Barty. Hope you’re happy.”
When Barty grins, there’s a speck of blood on his front teeth. Regulus doesn’t bother to ask how it got there. “Thrilled.”
---
“Do you think there’s been another attack?” Mary whispers, leaning across the Common Room table.
“I don’t think so. It’s just a drill. Dumbledore just wants to make sure we know what to do.” James flips over his transfiguration homework.
“My Mum wrote me,” Marlene starts. “They’ve been keeping a lot of the muggle attacks out of the newspaper for morale reasons. They don’t want to worry the public.”
Mary narrows her eyes. “The public is worried.”
“Yeah, but more, I mean.”
“What if it’s a preemptive thing.” Remus wonders. “Like, what if there’s going to be an attack, but he doesn’t want to worry us, so we’re calling it a drill.”
“If he knew there was going to be an attack he’d do something about it. Right?” Marlene asks, sitting back.
“Maybe. Hopefully.” Remus taps his quill against the inkwell. “I don’t know.”
“I guess we’ll find out.”
Sirius bursts in suddenly, throwing himself into the chair next to Remus. “Let's do something else.”
Remus glares at him. “Like what?”
“Go for a walk?”
“We literally just did that.”
“Fine. Chess, then.”
“Ok.” Marlene shuts her book and Mary follows suit. “That’s our cue. We’ll be off now.”
“What? Where are you going?”
“Somewhere we can concentrate,” Mary calls behind her as they leave. Peter comes down the stairs the second they step through the portrait hole.
“Did they go?”
Sirius sighs. “Yeah. We’re being too distracting, apparently.”
James shakes his head. “You’re being too distracting, mate.”
“You guys weren't even talking about homework. Which reminds me, lets not start now.” He unrolls a peice of parchment, scratching ‘Moons’ at the top. He looks up, eyes glinting. “We need to track Moony’s changes. See how long they take, symptoms, ect.”
Remus crosses his arms. “This doesn’t feel necessary.”
Peter sits down next to James. “Sure it does.”
James considers. “It’ll be helpful, regardless.” That's what he and Regulus first did with his father.
Remus just shakes his head. “I don’t- I don’t want to think about it. Not right now.”
“Ok.” Sirius stares at him carefully. “You don’t have to. We’ll do the charting, for the most part.”
“I- fine. Thanks, Pads.”
Sirius grins triumphantly and James widens his eyes in mock hurt. “Just Pads? What about the rest of us?”
“What ideas have you come up with?” Sirius asks, sarcastically. “Because from where I’m standing, I'm winning.”
Remus rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”
James fights to keep his face even, smiling along. It’s fine. He was joking. He didn’t mean it. But- but James hasn’t had any ideas. At all. Even one as simple as this. He’d just… not forgotten, but been preoccupied. He bites the inside of his cheek and wonders if Remus knows what an awful friend he’s been. His gut twists with guilt.
“Ok, James, Pete, if Moony doesn’t want to help, let’s get started now.” Sirius begins to mark out a chart. James and Peter start racking their brains for what they could remember about all recent full moons.
When James looks up, he catches Remus’s eye. He’s watching them, all of them, with a certain fondness that’s rare these days. James just winks, and Remus looks back at his work, a small smile creeping in around the corners of his mouth.
They work for a little while in near quiet, the snow still falling outside. When the portrait hole opens again, it’s Lily. She slams her books down on the table, glaring at all of them. “Did you get in a fucking fight with the Slytherins?”
Sirius peers at her over his chart. “Who told you?”
She opens her mouth and then closes it again. James feels something in his chest tighten. “Snape.”
“Yes. Severus told me. He said you attacked them.”
“That’s not true,” Remus starts, and Lily directs her attention to him. “They were already in a fight with Crouch and Rosier and that bunch. We decided to step in.”
“Why on earth would you do that?”
“They had knocked out Pandora- you know that Ravenclaw? And they didn’t have anyone free to check on her. So we helped.”
She narrows her eyes at all of them. “Did you get hurt?”
“No. We’re all fine.”
Lily’s green eyes flick to James. “Potter, you literally have blood all over your arm.”
“What?” James yelps, craning his neck to look. She was right of course, a bloody vaguely hand-shaped blob stained the fabric of his shirt. He lets out a breath. “Oh. That’s not mine.”
“Who’s is it?” Sirius asks, leaning forward to inspect the damage. “Looks like a handprint.”
“No idea,” James lies. “It got pretty intense there for a moment. Somebody must’ve grabbed me.”
“It was fun, ‘swhat it was.” Sirius leans over, re-dipping his quill. “And Evans, don’t worry. Snape’s fine. He hardly got the worst of it.”
“Who got the worst of it?”
For a second, Sirius’s resolve flickers. “Avery.”
Remus furrows his brow. “Wait, who was fighting Avery?”
Something passes across Sirius’s face. “...I don’t know.”
Ah. So it was Regulus, then.
“I’m sure he deserved it.” James leans back in his chair.
“Mm.”
Lily crosses her arms. “Regardless, you guys need to stop getting in so many fights. And Remus, I’m ashamed. You’re supposed to be a prefect!”
“I was! I waited for a teacher.”
“After you sent the rest of them running.”
“Well…”
“Evans, we’re alive and well, and that's all that should matter to you.” Sirius cuts in, flashing her a smile.
"Just stay away from the Slytherins." She huffs and wheels around, leaving the same way she came.
“Ok. That was fun. Let's get back to it.” Sirius says, unrolling the chart. “How long was his last change?”
“I don’t know- I didn’t time it.” Peter looks around. “None of us did.”
“Alright… um.” Sirius pauses with his quill hovering over the page. “I don’t know what to write then.”
“Just do his symptoms and stuff,” James helps. “For now that’ll be a good start.”
“Ok- wait, isn’t next band 5th period?”
“Yeah. Oh, shit. The lockdown.”
Remus frowns. “Wait, James, do you have two free periods in a row?”
James shrugs. “Just the way my schedule lines up with lunch.”
“Well-” The portrait hole bursts open, and McGonagall steps through. Her expression is unusually stony.
“Mr. Potter! I need to speak with you. Mr. Black, we will talk after. Please follow me to my office.”
James raises himself out of his seat. “Why?”
"It's a private family matter."
James's heart sinks. "Is it about my father? Is he ok?"
McGonagall just purses her lips. “Come with me please, Mr. Potter.” So it is, James thinks. Her lack of response confirms it.
Sirius is on his feet now too. “I need to come. Let me come, please, I need to know-”
“Just Mr. Potter for now, please.” She beckons him over. “Quickly, Mr. Potter.”
James can’t breathe. He can’t think. “Please-” but he doesn’t know who he’s asking, or for what. He grabs his bag and sends one last look at Sirius, before following McGonagall out.
“Tell me what happened,” he begs as he follows her to her office. “I just need to know if my father-”
“Please, Mr. Potter, we don't have much time till 5th period."
They round the corner and enter her office, and James tries not to be sick. “Is he alright?”
“Your father is fine, Mr. Potter. Well. As fine as he could be, I suppose.”
James gasps, grabbing her desk for support. Relief floods through him. “But he’s- he’s ok?”
“Yes.”
“So… why am I here?”
McGonagall walks over the fire, grabbing some floo powder and handing it to him. “He’s requested a visit. You get 10 minutes before I need to bring you back.”
“I- what? I get to see him?”
“Yes. Your mother’s out currently, I believe. Quickly, now. I still have to get Mr. Black in and out before the lockdown.”
“Right.” James shakily takes the powder from her hand and steps into the floo. He’s begged for this, so many times, and now he gets the chance. He’s nervous, he realizes. He hasn’t seen his father since Christmas. How different will he look?
He calls out his address and disappears with a rush of heat and ashes. He tumbles out on his living room hearth, springing to his feet. The familiar smell of his childhood home welcomes him in. “Dad?”
“In here, James.”
James skids into Monty’s bedroom. He’s propped up on the pillows, cupping a glass of water. He puts it down when James enters. “James.”
James runs to him, throwing his arms around him in a tight hug. “You’re ok?”
When he pulls back, Monty is beaming. “I’m fine, James. Did McGonagall scare you?”
James rubs his neck sheepishly. “A bit, yeah.”
“Good. We need to keep you on your toes.”
James laughs and drinks in his fathers face. “So you aren't dead?”
“Not yet anyway.”
James does his best not to let his smile slip, even for a second. “It’s lovely to see you, of course, but I have to ask. Why am I here?”
“I have news.”
“Oh?” James sits back, and the look on his father’s face sends hope tugging at his gut. “Has one of the doctor’s treatments been working?”
Monty shakes his head, still smiling. “No. Your treatment has been working.”
“What?”
“I’m more than ok, James. I’m feeling the best I have in weeks.”
James blinks at him. He does look better, James realizes. His cheeks a bit more pink, eyes a bit brighter. “You- what are you trying to say?”
“Your potion, James. It’s doing its job. Look.” Monty pulls back his collar, and James chokes on a gasp of relief. The green scales previously making their way up his neck have receded slightly.
“I got out of bed earlier. All the way up! Fully standing! Effie barely had to help me.” Monty’s grinning now, and James can’t do anything but stare at him. “I don’t know what that was, but I feel good. I have a meeting with the doctors this afternoon.”
“You- it’s- it’s working?” James’s voice is scratchy, catching on the pent up hope he’s learned to shove down.
Monty beams at him. “It’s working.”
James chokes on a desperate gasp, and then the tears waiting on his lashes spill over his cheeks. “And this isn’t a joke or anything? Because I can’t, I really can’t-”
“James. I’m being serious. Your potion, whatever it is, is helping. Not curing, maybe, but helping .”
James tries to wipe his face, but just starts crying again. “Thank god. I was starting to think- I’m so glad.” Monty just reaches out and rubs his back.
“I need to- I need to tell Re-” James cuts himself off, wrapping Monty in another hug. “I can’t believe it’s working.”
“You’re amazing.”
James sits back in the chair next to the bed. “What are you going to tell your doctors?”
“What do you want me to tell them?”
James considers. What would Regulus want? “I need to talk to the person that helped me with this first. Is that ok?”
“So for now, I’ll tell the doctors it's a medical miracle.” Monty winks. “Thank them for me, ok?”
“Yeah- I- yeah. Of course.” James can’t stop staring at his father’s face. His chest is cracking, and there are tears on his cheeks, and he can do nothing but watch. Stare. “You’re ok?” He whispers.
“Yeah, James.” Monty interrupts himself with a coughing fit, but recovers quickly. “As you can see I’m not cured yet, but yes. I’m fine.”
“I can’t believe it worked.”
“I don’t know what you did, but you have to be a genius. No one else has ever even made a dent on Dragon Pox, and here you are close to curing it. You’re amazing. I’m so- I’m so grateful. I’m so proud.” Monty reaches up and cups James’s face. James grips his hand.
“It wasn’t me,” he whispers softly. “It wasn’t me.”
Because it wasn’t. It was a boy with dark curls, a sharp face, and sad eyes.
Monty smiles. “You should go. I can see it in your face. You need to go.”
James nods, he’s right. He hugs him one last time, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I love you,” he breathes, and he can feel Monty nod.
“I love you too. Go.”
And so James does, back through the living room and into the fire. The flames erupt around him, and he shoves himself out into McGonagall’s office. She’s sitting at her desk, and doesn’t look surprised when he bursts through. “Thank you,” he gasps to her. “Thank you, Professor.”
“Of course, Mr. Potter. Now if you could please send Mr. Black in-”
“I’m sorry Professor, but could you get him? I- there’s somewhere I need to be.”
McGonagall opens her mouth to respond, but James is already rooting through his bag for the map. Something’s humming underneath his skin, persistent and buzzing.
“Mr. Potter, we have fifteen minutes till period 5- if you refuse to collect Mr. Black please make your way to your class.”
James just waves one hand at her and runs out of her office, pausing in the hall to tear open the map. A charms classroom, empty save one name. The one he’s looking for. When he starts to run, all he can hear is the pounding of his heart and the pulse of relief coursing through his bones. The potion is working. His father’s going to be ok. He doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t stop running, down staircases and through halls. He’s panting, but that hardly matters. Nothing else does. When he finds the room he needs, he skids to a stop.
The door’s slightly ajar, and James leans against the frame, taking deep breaths. Music, sweet and soft and oh so gentle pours out of the classroom and surrounds him. It’s slightly haunting, and entirely lovely. Beautiful.
Regulus has the violin tucked under his chin, eyes closed. His long fingers, ever graceful, are set on the bow lightly. His other hand supports the neck, fingers tipping and dancing over the strings in practiced motions.
James forces himself to take a breath. Regulus’s lashes flutter on his cheeks, long and dark. He looks like a creature out of the muggle bible, or maybe a celtic fairy, something dreamed up by lonely desperate people searching for any form of relief. Eros, or Cupid, or a siren drawing sailors in with his song. An Angel.
The music finishes, quietly, and the notes dissipate into the air around them. Regulus takes the violin out from under his chin, eyes opening slowly. They find James’ almost immediately and widen.
Regulus’s face flushes. “How long have you been there?”
James tries to speak, but there are more tears pressing against his throat. “Reg-”
“You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”
“Reg.”
Something in Regulus’s face shifts. “Potter? Are you ok?”
“I- my father-”
Regulus sets his violin down quickly, crossing to the middle of the room. “What happened?”
“My dad.” James stares at Regulus. “We did it, Reg.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He. He got out of bed today. He… he fully stood up. The scales on his neck are receding.”
Something clicks and Regulus’s expression shifts, sharp and shocked. “You mean- he’s recovering?”
James just laughs, swiping at his eyes. “He’s something.”
“It’s working?”
“It’s working.”
“Oh.” Regulus runs a hand through his hair, starting to pace. He’s taking deep breaths, and James knows how he feels.
“Regulus,” he whispers, stepping in the room. “Reg.” Regulus’s eyes flick up to meet his. “I need to say...” he trails off, just staring at him. Where can he even start?
“I didn’t think- I didn’t think it would actually work,” But the look of pure relief on Regulus’s face is unmatched.
“Thank you,” James says, because he needs Regulus to understand. Needs him to know. “Reg,” he says again, taking another step. “Thank you.” Regulus just shakes his head, curls swaying, and James can’t stop. “Thank you.”
“Don’t,” He says softly, but his eyes are glittering. James wants to drown in them.
“Please, Reg. You’re brilliant. You… I don’t even know how to say it.”
“So don’t. Stop now.”
James shakes his head. The words come to him slowly, then all at once. “When my dad got sick, it’s like he stole everything from me. From my chest. I couldn’t sleep, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t catch my breath. Everything was too much. I didn’t talk to anyone about any of it, because I didn’t know how. Sometimes- sometimes words are hard for me. Especially if it’s about how I feel.” He hates how juvenile it sounds. It’s the closest to the truth he’s come in a long while, and the rawness of it cuts through him completely.
Regulus stares at him, lips parted and cheeks flushed. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispers, but his eyes are fixed on James.
“But you agreed to help me.” James continues, because he’s not letting Regulus off that easily. “And you didn’t make me talk about it. You just… helped. You bloody saved me. And my father, too. You’re- I can’t even- you’re fucking brilliant. You’re brilliant. And lovely. And I know I don’t deserve your help. I know I don’t deserve you. I know. But- I mean…” He runs a hand through his hair, taking another step forward, letting out a shaky laugh. “Jesus, Reg, when I look at you, it’s like I can breathe again.”
In hindsight, he should’ve seen it coming. He should’ve known. Regulus warned him, after all.
But when something in Regulus’s eyes breaks- like a thread snapping- and he reaches up to tangle a hand through the back of James’s hair, James isn’t expecting it. He pulls him down, cups his cheek, kisses him, and all James can do is let him.
Because Regulus’s lips are on his, and it’s an instant explosion. Everything is burning, every part of him incinerating under the other boy’s touch. Against him, Regulus is trembling slightly. His breath is soft against James’s mouth, hungry and desperate. James can’t think, can’t move, can’t do anything except stand there. Because this isn’t right. This isn’t right at all. James isn't gay. He likes girls. He likes Lily.
So why, when Regulus Black kisses him, does it feel like he’s on fucking fire?
All too soon, Regulus is stumbling away, reaching up to cover his mouth. Eyes wide. He’s visibly shaking- not just his hand, but all of him.
Come back, James thinks. Don’t go. But he can’t say anything, because the words were stolen from his mouth by Regulus's own. His mind’s still trying to catch up to the rapid pounding of his heart. There’s at least two feet of space between them now, and each new inch cuts him across the chest like a curse. It’s wrong, he thinks, staring at the gap. It’s all wrong. Wrong and ugly and far too large.
How did he not know? What didn't he pick up on?
A memory cuts through the fog, and suddenly James is back on the Astronomy Tower, that night at the beginning of the year. After the party. Regulus had been curled up with a book and a bottle of firewhiskey, staring at James with that particular look of his. “You want to know why we’re so different, Potter?” he’d spat. Him and Sirius, fire and ice. “You were his only source of light. He had you, and all I had was him.”
But now, staring at Regulus, James wants to tell him he was wrong. Even then, he was wrong.
You already have me, Love.
You have all of me.
Just don’t go.
Don’t run,
And I’ll be whatever you need.
But the words still won’t come, and Regulus has backed too far away. He looks absolutely terrified- mask broken open, laying shattered at the ground near his feet. For once, every emotion is spelled out clearly across his face for James to see. Horror. Fear. Regret.
Longing.
Their eyes meet, grey on brown, and James sucks in the first breath he’s taken in a while. Opens his mouth to say something. Anything.
“ATTENTION STUDENTS. COMMENCING LOCK DOWN. THIS IS A DRILL. PLEASE FIND THE CLOSEST CLASSROOM AND WAIT UNTIL YOU ARE DISMISSED. ATTENTION STUDENTS. COMMENCING LOCK DOWN. THIS IS A DRILL. PLEASE FIND THE CLOSEST CLASSROOM AND WAIT UNTIL YOU ARE DISMISSED.”
Behind them, the door swings shut, locking with a click.