New Idea
“What?”
Snape smirks. James hates him. “You heard me. Do you know where he is?”
“You think I’m fucking letting you near him?”
The glint in Snape's eyes turns to simmering anger, mouth pinching. “Of course you’re worried about his safety. Ever thought that I was the only one in actual danger?”
Regulus takes a step back from James, as if he’s trying to fade into the background. James lets him. Snape doesn’t. “Where are you going, Black? You still haven’t answered my question. Bit late to be out and about, isn’t it?”
“Curfew doesn't matter anyway. I’m leaving.”
“We should have a talk later, you and me.”
Regulus casts him a cool glance. “I’d rather cut off my tongue and eat it.”
Snape bristles. “Fuck off, Black.”
Regulus rolls his eyes. “Creative.”
“Why in Merlin’s name are you here, Snivilleus?” James crosses his arms.
“I told you. I need to talk to that freak Lupin. I need to give him something.”
“As if I’d-”
“Yeah, you said. Don’t worry, Potter, I have orders from Dumbledore. You think I’d seek that thing out if I didn’t have to?”
James takes a step forward, grinning as Snape takes a step back. “I’ll talk to Dumbledore, then.”
“That’s useless.”
James sends him a glare. “I don’t care.”
“And Regulus? What do you have to say for yourself? What would Crouch say, knowing this is the kind of company you choose to keep?”
“You mean Potter? Doubt he’d care, honestly.”
“And Dumbledore? What about him?”
James sees the slight twitch in Regulus’s shoulders. “He’ll be fine. I’m leaving.”
“But we-”
“No.” Regulus turns on his heel and walks off, in what James knows is the wrong direction. Maybe he’s going back to see the Basilisk.
James shoves past Snape, making sure to hit his shoulder. He can hear his steps echo in the quiet halls. Snape runs to catch up to him. “Where are you going?”
“To get Remus, then go find Dumbledore.” If Snapes’ lying, it’s at least a good excuse to get him in trouble.
“Fine.”
James and Snape walk in silence, the stairs to Gryfindor tower seeming suddenly endless.
Snape breaks it first. “Why were you walking with Black?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“You’re hiding something. I’ll figure it out.”
“Best of luck.” James rubs his eyes. He’s just so tired. He knows he’d never be able to sleep anyway, though, so he’ll have to ask Reg for more potions.
They pause at the Portrait hole. It’s still early enough that people are awake- James can hear them through the wall. He turns to Snape, wrinkling his nose. “Stay here, Snivellus.”
Snape rolls his eyes. “Obviously.”
James flips him off and ducks through the door. Mary looks up from the couch. “Where’d you go?”
James shrugs, grinning. “Around. You know me. I follow the wind.”
Mary gives him a look. “Uh-huh.”
“Do you know where Remus is?”
“Upstairs, I think. With Peter and Sirius.” Mary cocks her head. “Did that get… worked out?”
Ah. They must’ve talked. Good. James raises his brows. “Get what worked out?”
“You know. The fight or whatever. Everyone knows.”
“I haven’t the slightest idea what you’re talking about.”
Mary opens her mouth and James turns towards the stairs, sending her a wink as he goes. He, true to Mary’s word, finds Remus sitting on his bed. Peter and Sirius are on the other, arguing about the correct orientation of the dresser. James knocks on Remus’s bed posts, leaning against them.
“Snapes here.”
Remus’s head snaps up. “What? How’d he get in?”
“No. Not here, here. Downstairs. In the hall. Waiting for you.”
On the other bed, Peter and Sirius’s conversation dissolves. Peter narrows his eyes. “Why?”
“He wants to talk to Moony.”
“And you were gonna let him?”
James rolls his eyes. “Of course not, Pete, but he says he’s got orders from Dumbledore. Says he’s got to give Remus something.”
“And he’s… downstairs?” Remus sets his book aside, standing up.
“Yeah. Do you want to come with me to Dumbledore? I can go alone.”
Remus shakes his head, expression slightly distant. “No. I should come with you.”
“Are you-”
“I’m coming, James.”
“Ok.” James sends a look over at Sirius, who looks a little terrified. He gives him a reassuring smile and turns back to Remus. “Let’s go, then.”
“Real quick, Prongs-” Pete sits forward. “Where were you?”
“I told you, didn’t I? I had a meeting with McGonagal.”
Peter leans back, crossing his arms. “Mm, no. We didn’t get an excuse for this one, actually.”
James blinks at him. Sirius snorts. “Mate, if you’re seeing your boyfriend, you can just say that.”
Which is probably true, but there’s something about telling Sirius he’s going to go see his little brother that makes James deeply uncomfortable.
“Right. Ok. I was with my… yeah. Good talk. We’re going to go now.” James grabs Remus and tugs him out, furiously ignoring his blatant smirk.
They make it to the hall quietly, letting the portrait swing shut behind them. When Snape sees Remus, he physically takes a step back. James resists the urge to punch him.
“Took you long enough.”
“Shut it.”
The three of them set off towards Dumbledore’s office. Snape groans. “This is pointless, you know.”
Neither James or Remus respond. Snape sends them a sideways look. “After this, don’t think I did you a favor. Dumbledore's making me. I didn’t do this for you.”
“What are you talking about, Snape?” James asks. Remus hasn’t said anything since they started walking.
“Well, if you didn’t insist on actually going to see Dumbledore I would’ve explained-”
“I don’t fucking trust you.”
“We’re here.” Remus interrupts their bickering, looking up at the door. James knocks first.
The door swings open, revealing Dumbledore in all his wizened glory. “Ah. Boys. I suppose I should’ve expected this.”
“Sir, Snape wants to talk to Remus and he says he’s working under orders from you.”
“Come in, Mr. Potter. You too, Mr. Snape and Mr. Lupin.” Dumbledore steps aside and James begrudgingly enters, followed shortly by the others.
“There we are. Ah. Yes. I did send Mr. Snape to find you, Mr. Lupin. You’ll have to let me explain. Please, sit.”
A third chair appears at his desk with a soft poof, and James sinks into it suspiciously. He wonders if this was where Regulus was sitting when Dumbledore laced his tea with Veritaserum. He decides not to think about it, in favor of keeping a level head.
“The other day Professor Slughorn came to me with an interesting discovery. He’d caught Mr. Snape here tinkering with some potion’s supplies after hours. I went to talk to him and found out he’d been brewing a potion similar to Wolfsbane. Do you know what Wolfsbane is, Mr. Lupin?”
James glances over, watching the way Remus’s fingers tighten on the arms of his chair. “Yes.”
“I don’t.” James looks back at Dumbledore. “What is it?”
“It’s a potion that relieves rather than cures the symptoms of Lycanthropy. It allows a werewolf to regain its human consciousness during a full moon as well as making the transition easier on the body. I’m surprised you didn’t come to me requesting the potion earlier, Mr. Lupin.”
“I… I knew it wouldn’t be possible.”
James looks back to Remus. “Why not?”
Remus lets out a defeated sigh. “It’s insanely difficult to make.”
Snape smirks. “And yet, I managed it.”
“With stolen ingredients and supplies, might I add.” Dumbledore says with a wink. “Regardless, it’s true. Severus here did somehow manage it.”
“I was brewing it for myself.” Snape shoots Remus a disgusted look. “For my own personal protection.”
“Fortunately,” Dumbledore interrupts, “Wolfsbane doesn’t work that way. And besides, there’s no reason for such precautions, Mr. Snape. We have dealt with Mr. Lupin’s… issue as safely as possible.”
“He attacked me!”
“I believe you were the one that entered the shack, so it wasn’t entirely unprovoked.”
Snape huffs, sitting back in his chairs. James looks back at Dumbledore. “Sir, respectively, why are we here?”
“I have asked Mr. Snape to give the potion he has brewed to Mr. Lupin. Depending on his reaction, we’ll have either Slughorn or Severus here make more.”
Next to James, Lupin goes still. “You want me to… drink whatever Snape’s brewed up? And I’m supposed to trust that it’s safe?”
“Professor Slughorn has verified its safety, Mr. Lupin. I promise you I have nothing but your best interests in mind.”
“I don’t- I can’t-” Remus shakes his head, chest rising and falling. “What’s the catch?”
“No catch, Mr. Lupin. I see no reason for which Mr. Snape shouldn’t give his potion over to you.”
And as much as he tries, James can’t either. It would be insanely beneficial- while he’d been worrying about finding a cure for Remus’s problem, Snape had been brewing one for him.
“I…”
“And if I don’t want to give it to him?” Snape holds his chin up, stubborn.
Dumbledore smiles gently. “Then I believe that choice will reflect in your house’s points at the end of the year.”
“Fine.”
James takes a breath. “Are there any side effects?”
"Not to our knowledge. It tastes terrible—as Mr. Lupin likely discovered during his research—but it appears to be primarily a medicinal potion."
“Right. Ok.” Remus wipes a hand over his face. “Fine. I’ll take it.”
Dumbledore spreads his hands. “Wonderful. I thought you would. After your next change, I ask you talk to Madam Pomfrey and highlight the differences you notice. It’ll help us ensure your safety.”
“Yeah.”
James bites his lip. He’s endlessly grateful Remus might get the help he needs, but entirely unhappy it came from who it did.
“Severus, if you wouldn’t mind handing over the potions-” Dumbledore motions, and Snape reluctantly holds out the bag to Remus. James watches as Remus slowly takes it, avoiding everyone’s eyes.
“Take one the night before the full moon, Mr. Lupin.”
Remus nods, eyes angry. James frowns. “He doesn’t have to do anything, right? For Snape?”
“No, Mr. Potter, don’t worry. This is an entirely selfless gift.”
“That he’s being forced to give,” Remus mutters, but drops it.
“You should all be getting to bed.” Dumbledore sits back. “It’s late enough.”
“Of course, Sir.” Snape sneers, standing up. He leaves first, James and Remus following shortly after. James notices Remus’s knuckles, white on the bag of potions. They make it to the hall and start walking.
---
“Potter!”
Remus freezes as James turns, adjusting his glasses. “What?”
Snape moves towards him slowly. “I need you to understand. It’s like I said. I didn’t do this for you, Lupin.”
“Obviously.”
“I was forced to.”
“I don’t want your bloody potions, Snape.” Remus hisses, waving around the bag. He’s livid, actually, and doesn’t care who sees.
Of course his savior is Severus fucking Snape.
“Well you’re bloody holding them, aren’t you?”
Remus presses his lips together, fuming. James steps forward. “Fuck off, Snape.” He’s got the sort of defensive stance Remus’s learned to recognize- the one that says ‘do what I say or someone’s getting cursed.’ It’s a little disconcerting, but not entirely unwelcome.
“Why the fuck should I?”
“Because it’s almost curfew and Remus here’s a prefect. Wouldn’t want him to see you out of bed after hours, would you?”
“Oh, so now curfew’s important? That’s not what Black said when I ran into the two of you earlier. Pick a side, Potter.”
James goes still just as Remus starts to process what Snape said. James had been out with the boy he was seeing earlier. Remus knows that much. But Black? As in Sirius? No, because Sirius had been in the dorm all night. Which means…
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
James is staring at him with wide eyes, face seeped in fear and guilt. Snape clears his throat.
“Fine. Lupin, I hope I brewed those wrong. I hope they’re bloody poison.” He turns with a huff, angrily stomping back up the corridor.
“James,” Remus says quietly, and it’s work to get even that much out. “James. I need you to tell me you aren’t seeing Regulus Black.”
“I-”
“I need you to look me in the eye and tell me you aren’t sleeping with Sirius’s little brother.”
When James’s chocolate eyes flick up to meet his, Remus can see the answer etched into every corner. Undeniable; clear as anything. Remus groans, hiding his face in his hands. “Merlin’s beard, James.”
“You have to understand, Remus. Please. Let me explain.” There’s desperation underlying every word, and James looks as close to frantic as Remus has seen him in a long time.
Remus crosses his arms, setting his jaw. “Fine.”
“Not… not here.” James looks around, pulling him into a classroom. James shuts and locks the door behind them. Immediately he starts pacing, running a hand through his messy hair. “Bloody hell. Ok. Shit.”
Remus feels no sympathy for him.
“I found him at the beginning of the year. He’s… he’s helping me find a cure for my Dad. That’s why he’s getting better. He’s amazing, Remus. You should see him working. He’s so...” There’s a glint in James’s eyes that twists Remus’s stomach. “And he’s different than everyone thinks, I swear. He’s kind.”
Remus scoffs, remembering the scar gashing across Sirius’s chest. He resists the urge to curse James right then and there for forgiving someone so awful so easily. “Have you forgotten what he did, Prongs? God,” He shakes his head as something else occurs to him. “You bloody punished Sirius for betraying me, all while you were fucking his brother. Knowing what he did to Sirius. What he continues to do.”
“I’m sorry,” James’s voice cracks. “For not telling Sirius. But he doesn’t understand. They both don’t get the other. If they’d bloody talk then maybe… but no. I can’t tell you a lot of what he’s told me, but I can tell you that I would never associate with him if I thought what he did to Sirius was inexcusable. There’s more than you know. More than Sirius does either.”
“I don’t understand-”
James looks up at him then. “He’s saving my Dad, Remus.”
Remus huffs out a breath, letting that sink in. He thinks of the boy with sad eyes and a quick mind. “So that’s where you’ve been going all year, then. To work on… what? A potion?”
James nods. “Yeah. A cure. Or- multiple. It’s confusing.”
“And that’s just supposed to forgive… everything?”
James presses his hands to his eyes. “You have to believe me, Remus. He’s not a monster. Not like Sirius says. He doesn’t-”
“What, James? He doesn’t know him like you do?”
“I didn’t say that.”
Remus rubs his eyes. “You were going to.” There’s so much to say, so much to process, so much left to forgive.
“He was imperioed. When he cut Sirius.”
Remus’s head snaps up. The first thing he feels is a flood of relief- because that makes this so much easier. That would mean James isn’t a bad person; just a complicated one.
“Are you… sure?”
James nods, firm and certain. “Yes.”
“What if he wasn’t telling the truth?”
James laughs, looking down. “He was.”
"You're sure?"
"I'm sure."
“And when did this start?”
“A fair bit ago.”
“Who- who initiated it?” It won't change things, not really, but it does matter.
“He kissed me first, if that’s what you’re asking.”
The thought of Regulus and James kissing nearly shuts Remus down for good. “And now…”
James lets out a soft sigh. “He’s so wonderful, Remus.”
Something stabs at Remus’s heart and, for the first time, he starts to wonder if this is something deeper than he fully understands. When he voices the question that's been brewing for a while, it’s barely a whisper against the still classroom air. “Do you love him?”
He knows it’s a big question. He knows James may not have an answer. But-
James looks up with glittering eyes. “Yeah.” He takes a breath. And then: “It hurts.”
And Remus starts to think that maybe he was wrong. Maybe he does understand. Maybe this isn’t so out of the ordinary. Because he knows that look, knows that feeling. Knows that after a while it imprints itself on you, leaving a residue he can never really get off.
“How do you know?”
And when James smiles at him, it’s sad and lonely. “How do you know you love Sirius?”
Remus sucks in a breath, looking down. He’s not surprised James knows. He’s more surprised Sirius doesn’t. “The Black brothers, huh?” He says finally, with a cracked smile. It’s a peace offering; an olive branch.
James lets out a short and quiet laugh. “They’re going to be the death of us, Moony.”
“I don’t get it.”
“I do. Have you seen them speak french?”
Remus chuckles, then pauses. “On the topic of languages… has Regulus…”
“I know he’s a Parselmouth, yeah. I assume you figured it out way back in the library? That time he cursed you?”
“Yeah. He told you about that? Did he tell you what he was doing? I still haven’t figured it out.”
“No. He didn’t want to say, so I didn’t pry.” James sighs, looking down.
Something about that feels off to Remus, but he doesn’t ask. “I’m guessing you don’t want me to tell Sirius about this.”
James looks back up, gaze sharp. “Yes. Please don’t. I’ll tell him in my own time. Don’t tell anyone, actually.”
Remus thinks back to when James asked him the same thing at the beginning of the year, that time about his dad. “Ok. I won’t. But this is the last secret I’ll help you keep from Sirius.”
“Yeah, alright. Of course.”
James moves to the door, unlocking it and holding it open. “We should go. The other’s will worry.”
“‘Course.” Remus stands up. “James?”
“Yeah?”
“Good luck.”
---
Well. He was interesting. The Basilisk curls around herself in the middle of the Chamber, settling into a spiral on the ground.
Regulus sighs, hanging his head. He’d retreated back here almost immediately after Snape showed up. What’d you think?
I… was surprised.
Regulus cocks his head. What do you mean?
You smelled different around him. Your voice sounded different too.
How so?
Happier. Less scared.
Regulus takes a seat, leaning up against the Basilisk’s long body near her head. You would notice that.
He reminds me of Godric.
Regulus shakes his head. Stop saying that, he bites out.
The Basilisk moves, muscles rippling under Regulus’s back. Why?
You keep comparing us, James and I, to Godric and Salazar. I don’t want to be like them.
The Basilisk tenses. Why not?
Regulus shakes his head. They ended badly. Tears and silence. I don’t want that. It’s like they forgot each other the second they broke up. The letters were returned. They never spoke about it. I don’t want that. I won’t have that. He turns to look at her, even though she can’t see him. There’s something burning in him, something angry and aggressive. James and I are going to be different. We aren’t going to lose each other. We won't forget. I’ll find a way to get us through this war. I won’t make the mistakes they did.
The Basilisk lets out a low rumble. I should be angry.
But?
But I don’t want you to end like them either.
Regulus smiles, tipping his head back. He rests it against the Basilisk’s body, staring at the ceiling. There are two weeks of school left , he whispers softly. Then I go home for the summer.
The Basilisk hisses. Then you come back. And I’ll be waiting.
The words hit Regulus like a poisoned arrow. And before he can stop them, emotions are overwhelming him, crawling up his throat and out his eyes. A single tear, followed by a few more, trace their way silently down his cheeks. He’s shaking and he knows the Basilisk can feel it, pulling his knees to his chest. The guilt is all consuming, eating his stomach from the inside out. Because there’s a knife in his trunk upstairs, waiting to be used. Because he desperately, desperately, wants to find a way out of this. Yeah, he whispers, you will be.
The Basilisk says nothing, twisting her head towards him. Regulus lets himself cry, soft and shaking, until there’s nothing left but a dull ache. He turns his head, still resting against the Basilisk’s body, to stare at the large statue. His eyes are heavy from his tears, weighed down. Thank you, he manages, hardly a whisper. Hardly anything. Hardly enough.
Gently, gently, Regulus lets his eyes close. Soft and heavy, the rise and fall of the Basilisk’s breathing lulls him into a heavy sleep.