All at once
James doesn’t want to go with Sirius. He really doesn’t. Pranks can wait. He’d much rather be back in that room with Regulus in his arms, against his lips. But that’s not how this works, so James dutifully follows him out the door.
“So- um- what’s our plan?”
“We have to get Moony out of a closet and then we’ll get going with our table thing.” Pete says, as Sirius catches up to them.
“How do you guys know where Moony is? I have the map.” James glances behind him. Is Regulus still in there? Is there time to go back?
“Yeah, bloody annoying, that. We’re gonna have to talk about this whole shared custody bit, because you absolutely hog that thing.” Sirius snorts. “But we used a similar locator charm that we did on the map to find out where you and Moony were. Me and Pete were lucky enough to get trapped in the same place. Man, you really got the worst of it.”
“Yeah. Right.”
They find the closet and Peter does some sort of complicated charm that involves waving his wand over his head like an American lasso and shooting a burst of pink magic at the door. It slams open, revealing a startled Remus on the other side.
“Cheers,” He laughs, looking between them. “So the charm really worked then?”
“Oh yeah,” Sirius says, grinning. He throws an arm over Remus’s shoulders. “You’re a bloody genius, Moons. Per usual.” Peter and James pretend not to notice the blush that climbs high on Remus’s cheeks.
“Oh shove off,” He mutters, but makes no move to get out from under Sirius’s arm. “We should get going. We really only have like 15 minutes left.”
“Alright. Come on.”
They make their way to the great hall, casting a detector charm to make sure there was nobody trapped inside. Once they get in, they split up and get to work hexing the tables. The spell is relatively simple, and it doesn’t take long.
They meet back up in the middle. The castle around them stays eerily quiet. Sirius pulls out a muffin. “Ok. Let's see.”
The rest of the Marauders lean forward as Sirius places the muffin gingerly on the nearest table. Immediately a wooden mouth opens wide and snaps it up. Sirius yanks his hand back, just in time.
“Right. Well. I think that’s perfectly satisfactory.” Remus crosses his arms. “As long as nobody loses any fingers, I think we’re in the clear. “
“The house elves might hate us though,” Pete worries, staring at the table. “They cook all that food.”
“No, it’s magic. And also they already hate us. Remember the dung incident of 4th year? We are not on their good sides.”
“Ugh, fine. Let’s hope we all don’t starve.”
“Uh huh.”
James looks around. “How much time do we have left?”
“About-” Remus casts a tempus charm. “5 minutes.”
“Great. We should get out of here before anyone notices.”
Remus sighs, glancing towards the empty podium at the head of the hall. “I’m sure Dumbledore already knows.”
“Yeah, but he’s not going to do anything about it. Not without admitting his magic was faulty.” Sirius loops his arm through James’s and it sends such a sharp pang of guilt through his chest that he has to remind himself to stay standing.
I’ve been meeting with your little brother all year. You know, the one you hate? I just kissed him, three times. The worst part: I’d quite like to do it again.
He swallows it down and smiles. “Let’s go down to the kitchen with our remaining time and get some dinner for tonight. I have a feeling it might be a bit before we eat.”
They barely make it to the kitchens before Dumbledore’s amplified voice announces the end of the lockdown. After stuffing their pockets, they return to the common room as students begin to pile out into hallways.
---
What happened? The Basilisk asks immediately, following Regulus up the tunnel and into Salazar’s old room.
Nothing , Regulus mutters as he slumps into the chair by the desk.
You’re lying. I can smell it. Something happened.
I made a stupid mistake.
The Basilisk flicks her tongue. What mistake?
Regulus covers his face with his hands, bending over in the chair. He peeks at the Basilisk through his fingers. I kissed someone.
Your sun?
Yeah, Regulus sighs. My sun. I guess so.
A mistake?
We’re fighting on opposite sides of the war. It’s too dangerous.
The Basilisk seemed to consider this. Strategically or emotionally?
What?
Dangerous for the fate of the world, or dangerous because you’re afraid of getting hurt?
Regulus stares at his hands. It already hurts.
Why?
Because I can’t have him all the time. He whispers, and hates how pathetic it sounds. How true.
It would hurt worse not to have him at all.
Regulus shakes his head. It’ll hurt worse when I have to lose him.
The Basilisk stays quiet. I’ve never seen you so hopeful.
Is that a joke?
Do I make jokes?
Regulus just stares at the Basilisk . He’s a Gryfindor, you know. And my brother’s best friend.
Well . From what I know on the subject, Gryfindors and Slytherins work rather well together.
Regulus smiles sadly. Yes, but how do they end?
To that, the Basilisk hisses: The way they started. Either slowly, or all at once. Never willingly.
What about your master and Godric?
I suppose that was a bit of both.
Hm.
Would you rather bow out?
The thought is sharp and painful. No.
Then, Little Prince, it doesn’t sound like a mistake to me. The Basilisk hisses.
But it was easier to live without it before I knew what it felt like.
The Basilisk tips her head. But you have it now, do you not? You don’t need to live without it. It’s yours. He’s yours.
The words send a flurry of something with wings through Regulus’s chest. You’re right. He shakes his head. It doesn’t feel like a mistake to me either. It just- it should.
Stop listening to the voices in your head.
Regulus takes a shuddering breath . How?
Kiss him again.
Regulus sighs. I should come to you for romance advice more often.
Mm.
Regulus chews his lip. We did it, you know. That project I’ve been working on. We did it. It worked. Or- it’s working.
Oh? Are you done?
No. Even if the disease wasn’t affecting Fleamont’s muscles yet, it might soon. They would have to stop it from getting through some other way. His internal organs are next- and anyway, there's no guarantee that the potion will keep working. It might be difficult, Regulus says carefully.
I have faith.
When did you decide to be so nice to me?
Since you decided to keep me company. Still might eat you- haven’t made up my mind. Regulus huffs out a soft laugh.. The Basilisk hisses. You’re less annoying than my other boy. Quieter.
Tom Riddle, Regulus thinks. Right. Do you- um. Do you want anything? From the castle- or the outside world? Besides all the Mudbloods dead.
That would be ideal.
Yes, well, that’s your job. Anything else?
The Basilisk thinks for a moment. Can you play some more?
On the piano? Regulus asks, glancing across the room.
No. Your other instrument.
Oh, my violin?
Yes.
Regulus hums. Just that? Nothing else?
I don’t know anything else.
Ok. I’ll bring it next time I come down. He crosses to the desk, opening the drawer. He’s leafed through it before, but hasn’t opened any of the sealed envelopes. Can I look at one of these?
The Basilisk doesn’t respond, which Regulus takes as a yes. He picks out a plain white one and carefully slits the seal, gingerly unfolding the letter within. It’s hundreds of years old- but for some reason it doesn’t crumble in his hands. It smells like decay and moldy parchment.
Mother,
I don’t know how many more of these I can write. All the ones I don’t send sit and mock me, and all those I do just get returned, which may be worse. Godric says I shouldn’t stop writing. He says it's good for me to get my feelings onto paper. I don’t believe him. Writing to a dead woman is insane- I am ashamed of how much relief it brings me. Regardless, I have news. The creature in the chamber, my creature, she is ready to fulfill her mission. I don’t know why, but I told her about you all. Maybe for the same reason I still write to you. She understands now, I think, why all mudbloods and muggleborns must be punished. She understands they will only bring anguish and suffering to those around them, as they did to me. As they did to you. I hope she uses my rage to fuel her ambition, even if I have to leave before I get to see it. She really is beautiful, Mother. You would’ve loved her. The others are still being difficult. Godric assures me he understands, yet I catch him having whispered conversations with Rowena when I’m not present. He says I can not use what happened to me to justify the exclusion of a whole class of students. I tried to tell him that it didn’t happen to me, it happened to you, but he didn’t seem to understand. Don’t worry Mother, I won’t compromise my morals, for Rowena or Helga.
Godric is the only one that concerns me. He asks for something and it takes everything in me not to immediately give in. I know you don’t want to hear about that, and I am ashamed, don’t worry. Ashamed enough for the both of us. I know if you knew about our situation, I would no longer be your son. You’d cast me out immediately, as you should. I understand how many generations I’m disappointing, but Mother, when he looks me in the eyes, I’d rather die than be anywhere else. I wish there was someone I could tell, other than the Basilisk, about how much it’s ripping me apart to make this decision. It feels like my very soul is splitting. God, I wish he would understand. I know he tries, but he goes home to his mother and father when he misses them, and his little brother visited him yesterday. I fear he will never know the loss I’ve suffered at the hands of those people.
I must go now, Mother.
Rest easy.
Regulus folds the letter, sliding it back into the envelope. There’s something caught in his throat, and he clears it before turning to the Basilisk. Muggles killed your Master’s family?
Yes. There’s a burning fury to her normally passive voice, and it carries perhaps the most emotion Regulus has ever heard from her. Ripped them to shreds, in front of him.
Regulus looks down at the letter in his hands. Do… do you think he’d be happy? With the direction the Dark Lord is taking this war?
The Basilisk just twists its head, tongue flickering. I do not know enough.
Right.
Will you read it to me?
What?
His letter. Will you read it to me?
Regulus does.
---
When James sees Regulus next, it’s in the Come and Go room. He waits anxiously, knee bouncing. He straightens his tie, runs a hand through his wild hair. What if Regulus changed his mind? What if he doesn’t show up at all?
But then the door opens and James shoots to his feet, staring wide-eyed at Regulus. “Hey,” He whispers, and Regulus’s eyes catch his, and everything is ok again.
“Hi.” Regulus murmurs, gaze fixed on him. “How are you?”
James just shakes his head, crossing the room quickly. He reaches out, but stops just short. Cocks his head in a silent question. Regulus swallows and nods wordlessly. James lets his hands find the other boy’s waist, pulling him in. Regulus stumbles a bit but goes willingly, pressing up against James’s chest. It’s sweet and soft. It feels like relief, and he lets out a quiet gasp. Finally.
“Better now,” He whispers against Regulus’s lips.
When they finally separate, it feels like ages later. “I missed you,” James says, tucking a curl behind Regulus’s ear.
Regulus bites back a smile. “It hasn’t been that long, James.”
“What are you saying? You didn’t miss me?” James fake pouts, and is rewarded with an eye-roll.
“I had a thought,” Regulus says, turning from James to go to the table. James immediately mourns his loss.
“For my dad?”
“Yes.” Regulus pulls out a book from his bag, setting it on the table. It’s one they’ve read at least five times, entirely dedicated to dragon pox.
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“Can’t we wait? I was having much more fun with what we were just doing.”
Regulus blushes, but doesn’t give in. “The virus has slowed but hasn’t stopped, correct?”
James sighs, but nods. “Yeah. I’m not sure exactly what’s going on, but he’s not currently getting any weaker. Though, it might just be moving too slowly to detect.”
Regulus hums. “I don’t think so. I think it’s looking for another way to your fathers internal organs.”
James frowns. It never gets easier, talking about this. He’s awful at separating their task from the person he loves. “Right. So we need to block all paths?”
“Ideally yes, but we can’t. It’s too dangerous to mess that much with his inner-body systems.”
“So….?”
“So,” Regulus pauses. “I have no idea.”
“Mmm.” James moves behind him, relishing in the resulting shiver when he wraps his arms around him. He can do this now, he reminds himself. He’s allowed to hold him. “So you interrupted that for… nothing?”
Against him, Regulus takes a deep breath. “I’m worried. I don’t know how long our good luck will last.”
“Yes, but it isn’t luck, is it? It’s you. You did that.”
Regulus turns to him, eyes locked on his. James can’t take it- the way he’s looking at him. He’s never been able to take it, he realizes.
“You’re pretty,” he whispers, studying Regulus’s face.
Regulus says nothing for a long time, staring right on back. “You’re such a bad idea, Potter.” He says finally, and James’s heart sings.
“But?”
“But.”
James grins. He feels so warm. Warmer than he has in weeks- like he’s stumbled upon something he’s desperately been aching for. Regulus smiles too, but there’s a certain sadness that clings to its corners.
“What’s wrong?” James asks.
“Nothing.” Regulus leans his head against James’s chest. He lets out a puff of air, and James can feel it through his shirt. “Slowly,” He whispers, barely audible. “Or all at once.”
James has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s warm and right where he wants him. He leans down, resting his chin on top of Regulus’s head. He smells clean, and slightly of old books. Like the restricted section of the library. "How did I not know... I mean, I didn't even know I was into blokes until you kissed me."
"I know you didn't."
A thought occurs to him- something left unfinished. Something not quite resolved. “If you’re right, and this is all we get,” He murmurs into Regulus’s hair, “It’s more than enough. I’ll take anything you can give me, Reg, and it’ll still be more than I expect from you. More than I deserve.”
Regulus just shakes his head against him. “I hate you.”
James sighs. “I know, love.”
---
When Regulus drops his bag at the foot of the telescope and takes his place next to Lupin, the other boy’s head snaps up with a startled jump.
“Where did you come from?”
Regulus gives him a blank look. “The stairs.”
“Merlin. We’re gonna have to work on that.” Lupin sighs and moves aside, gesturing for Regulus to take a look through the telescope. “We’re still just mapping the planet's path.” He pulls out the peice of parchment they’ve been recording their data on. “I’m not sure we’re doing this right.”
Regulus leans over and takes a look, frowning. “No, it's right. Neptune just orbits very slowly.”
“If you say so.”
“I do.”
Lupin just shakes his head and looks back through the telescope. After a second, he pulls away. “It’s very slow. Compared to the moon, especially.”
Regulus studies him, passive. “You know a lot about the moon.”
It’s just a second, just a moment, but Regulus sees it. The way Lupin’s body tenses and goes stiff. Then he’s as relaxed as ever, and shrugs. “I guess.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.” But Lupin won’t meet his eyes, and Regulus knows he's found a sore spot. A bruise. He wants to push it, see what happens.
“You’re not bad at constellations or solar flares, but the second we discuss the moon you become an expert.”
“Just an interest, you know.”
“Hm.” Regulus watches him coolly.
“It’s nothing.”
Regulus just raises his brows, but doesn’t respond. He’ll let Lupin dig his own hole.
“We should get back to our planet data,” Lupin mutters, turning away and getting out a quill. “Where’s Neptune now?”
Regulus doesn’t need to look. “In practically the same spot as yesterday.”
Lupin sighs. “I still don’t think that's right.”
Regulus just rolls his eyes and adjusts the telescope.