Dust
Despite his protests, Monty makes good on his word and takes a potion every other day. James sometimes catches him staring at the little vile before he tips it back. His eyes look sad- conflicted about a choice James wonders if he regrets. Yet every time, Monty swallows down the potion with a grimace and a wince and James lets out an uneasy breath.
When James asks him about how he’s feeling, Monty gives him a sad smile. “I don’t know.”
“How are the potions?”
“They… are working, I think.” Monty looks out the window next to his bed. “I haven't got any worse, physically.”
James nods. “Good. And…”
Monty sighs, a hint of frustration lacing his exhale. “And non-physically, well.” He takes up his wand from the side table and waves it at the glass of water set on the dresser across the room.
Nothing happens.
Silently he sets the wand down on the table. “Not great.” He finishes quietly.
James sucks in a deep breath. It’s his fault his father’s like this, and they both know it. James doesn’t regret it- doesn’t regret making Monty promise to take them- but it’s hard. Watching his magic disintegrate, watching the spark leave his eyes, it doesn’t get easier.
“I’m, er, sorry.” James looks down. “I wish… I wish the actual healer at St. Mungo’s would do their job.”
Monty gives him a look. “They’re trying, James. And what do you really mean? Do their jobs better than Regulus Black already is?”
James winces, taking a seat. He knew this was going to come up eventually. “Look, Dad-”
“I’m not going to tell anyone, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Monty sighs. “Regulus, huh? I guess I owe him too much to be judgemental.”
James shrugs helplessly. “I asked him for help and he… agreed.”
“I wouldn’t expect that from him.”
“That's what I’m saying!” James leans forward a bit in his seat. “He’s not like the rest of them. He cares. He wants to help.”
“And he's doing this for me?”
“Who else would he be doing it for?”
Monty looks at him in a very specific Monty way. James stares back blankly.
Monty sighs and moves on. “Sirius doesn’t know that he’s been helping , does he?”
James bites his cheek. “No.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t that help fix things between the two of them?”
“Not… necessarily. I mostly haven’t told him because Regulus asked me not to.”
Aside from other, more obvious reasons.
“Does Sirius even know I’m taking these potions?” Monty asks.
“I’m sure he does. I think he just assumes they’re from, like, real doctors.”
“Huh.” Monty stares at the empty vile on the nightstand. “And how’d he… you know, figure it out? The potions? The cures?”
James shrugs. “He’s smart. He’s one of the top potions students at our school, along with Lily. And… I think there was a book, or something? I don’t know. He got one idea from that. Otherwise I’ve been doing research into the disease, telling him about it, then watching as he figures out how to adapt the potion.”
“Regulus… is still with the Blacks, yes?”
James swallows. “Yes.”
Monty’s eyes glitter. “You know, with everything he’s done for me, I don’t see why he shouldn’t come stay here too. We have an extra bedroom.”
James almost laughs. “Yeah. I kinda… already tried that. Convincing him, I mean. Multiple times. He refuses.”
Monty tips his head in understanding. “Ah.”
James bits his lip. “He’s scared, I think. I’m not entirely sure what- I mean, Sirius was fine when he left so…”
Monty gives him a sad smile. “You think Walburga and Orion would let their second child go so easily? After what happened with their first?”
“Are you on Regulus’s side in this?” James asks, frowning.
“No. But I understand. Sirius was the heir, James. But he wasn’t their only child. So when he left, it wasn’t the end of the world. They had an extra. They had a replacement.” Monty leans forward on his pillows. “But that’s it. Regulus is where it ends. After him, there’s no one to continue the legacy. Sirius used that to his advantage, even if he didn’t know it.”
James opens his mouth but Monty just continues. “You and I both know how awful Walburga and Orion were to Sirius. I imagine they’re better to Regulus, but only because they need him on their side. As long as he knows he’ll always have a room here, I don’t think there’s much more you can do.”
James shakes his head, the age old anger building in his gut at the thought of Walburga and Orion. “I’m not going to stop trying.”
“I know.”
“I’ll get him out.”
Monty doesn’t say anything for a long minute, gaze searching and sad. “He… he means a lot to you, doesn’t he?”
James doesn’t know how to respond to that. “He’s saving you,” He says finally, and tries to ignore the way his voice cracks. “How could he not?”
Monty lets out a long breath, looking back to the potions on his table. “Sometimes I worry your heart is too big for your own good.”
“I don’t- he’s- he’s not like his family.”
“Then why haven’t you told Sirius that he’s the one really making these potions?”
“Neither of them understands the other. If they’d just talk… ”
“Why don’t they?”
James clenches his jaw. “Regulus blames Sirius for leaving, Sirius blames Regulus for staying.”
“And that scar on Sirius’s chest?”
James sucks in a breath. “That’s- that’s not fair.”
Monty sighs. “James, you have so much kindness in you. I just want you to be careful.”
Why do people keep telling him that? He doesn’t need to be careful around Regulus. He needs to be careful with Regulus, sure, but not around him. Regulus would never hurt him in a way James couldn’t handle.
“Yeah. Alright.” James sends one last glance at the potions bottles on the nightstand. “Thanks for taking those. Remus’s coming today, so I’m gonna go make up a bed for him.”
“I will.”
“And I’m- I’m sorry.”
And for once, Monty doesn’t say it’s not his fault.
“Ok. Thanks, James.”
“Yeah.” James turns and walks out, trying not to let guilt corrode his stomach from the inside out.
---
“How’s summer homework going, Remus? James hasn’t even opened his books yet.”
Remus looks up at the sound of his name. “Hm? Oh, yeah. I did all of it at the start of summer. Best to get it out of the way.” It helps to be hopelessly bored, he thinks.
“Mum,” James complains across from him. They’re playing cards, and currently Remus is winning. “I’m getting to it. Let me enjoy my free time.”
“Mhm. And when it’s the night before school starts and you haven’t done any of it?”
“Then at least I’ll have the motivation.”
“What are we talking about?” Sirius sets a cup of tea down on the table and settles in next to Remus. Remus desperately tries to ignore the way Sirius’s knee presses against his thigh.
“Summer homework.” Effie supplies. “James has done none of his.”
“Oh, neither have I.” Sirius gives her a quick smile. “Best to save it for the last minute, I always say.”
Remus shakes his head, though it's nothing new. You don’t spend 6 years with someone and not learn their study habits. “Let me guess-”
“-It’s good for motivation.” Sirius finishes.
Remus and Effie sigh while James grins in victory. “I win,” Remus says, setting down the last of his cards on the pile.
James’s grin quickly falls as he pouts. “That’s not fair! I wasn’t paying attention!”
Remus shrugs, smiling as he grabs the mug of tea Sirius brought him. “That’s what you get.” With a groan he lifts himself from the ground and settles back into his spot on the couch. “How the hell are we almost through summer?”
“I know.” James says, also finding his way to an armchair. Sirius follows suit, plopping down next to Remus.
“It’s a bit weird to be 7th years, isn’t it? Feels too old.” Sirius leans his head back on the cushions. “At least we’ll all be of age soon.”
“Why do you want to grow up so fast?” Effie asks, stretching her arms above her head. “Enjoy your youth.”
“We’ll be allowed to fight then,” Sirius says, eyes sparkling. “Alongside you and Monty in the Order.”
Effie presses her lips together. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”
“Effie-”
She rolls her eyes. “I know I’m not going to be able to deter you Sirius. I just…” She sighs. “You’re still kids. Though I doubt that’ll make a difference to Dumbledore.”
“Well, Dumbledore’s right. We won’t be kids anymore. And the Order needs all the help it can get, right?”
“Right.”
Sirius shifts next to Remus. “Me and James were talking to the girls the other day and they agreed.”
Effie sighs. “Gryffindors. I don’t know what I expected.”
“What’s new with the Order?” Remus pipes up, keeping his eyes on Effie. “Any new strategies?”
For some reason, she refuses to meet his gaze. “None that you need to worry about.”
“Can you tell us anything?” Remus asks.
“We’re… we’re focused on keeping the schools safe. He seems to be targeting kids, which isn’t what we were expecting.”
“But not Hogwarts?” James asks.
She nods. “Not Hogwarts. Yet.”
James leans forward. “Yeah. We were all talking, and we thought it wouldn’t make sense for him to avoid the school entirely. It feels like he’s building up to it. He’s gone after almost every other school on the continent, so…”
Effie rubs her eyes, long black hair falling over her shoulder. “Except Durmstrang. But that’s no surprise.”
“Right.”
“We’re watching him carefully. There are anti-apperation charms on the school so we’d know if they were coming. Plus, with all the lockdown drills…”
“Pshtt.” Sirius rolls his eyes. “Those things do nothing. Moony already figured out how to break the charm that keeps the doors closed.” He yelps when Remus cuts him a look and elbows him. “What? It’s true!”
“Is it? Hm.” Effie considers Remus for a moment. “Maybe you should tell Dumbledore that so he can improve the charm. And Sirius, love, ‘those things’ are completely necessary. It would keep kids stored away and safe from intruders in a controlled fashion.”
“Some of us want to fight.”
“You aren’t even of age yet.” Effie tries, and there’s a hint of… something lacing her voice. Sadness? Desperation?
“You think the Death Eaters will care about that?”
Effie lets out a breath. “You’re right. But it won't matter if they can’t get to you. Which is why the lockdowns are essential.”
“Hm.”
Effie leans down and picks up her mug, now empty, from the coffee table. Standing up, she heads to the kitchen. “It’s late. I’m going to go to bed.”
James nods, yawning. “Yeah, me too. Thanks for the tea, Mum.”
As he passes Remus he ruffles his hair. “You know where your bed is, yeah? Pads can show you. Night.”
“Night,” Both Sirius and Remus reply. As James disappears up the stairs, both boys fall into a comfortable quiet.
Sirius, of course, is the one to break it. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room. I’m tired too.”
Remus nods and stands up, grabbing both his and Sirius’s mugs and bringing them to the sink. He sets them down and looks up to find Sirius watching him from the doorway. “What?”
“Nothing. Just missed you, s’all.”
Remus’s stomach does a complicated little gymnastics routine that would no doubt win awards. “I missed you too.”
Sirius flashes him a grin and walks past him and out of the other door to the kitchen. “Come on, then. We can finish cleaning up in the morning.”
Remus dutifully follows him up the stairs and down to the hall, watching as Sirius opens the door to his bedroom and flops down on his bed. Remus smiles and quietly shuts the door behind him, standing over Sirius and crossing his arms. “You know I’ve stayed in this bedroom every summer for six years?”
Sirius pushes himself up onto his elbows, perfect lips curving into a smirk. “Yeah, but what if you forgot then got lost?"
"On my way down the hall?"
"It's a dark house. What if you wandered into the wrong room? You need me.”
“I need you?”
“Mhm.” Sirius looks up at him through his lashes, and Remus wonders if he’s doing it on purpose. “You need me.”
Remus takes a step closer, resting a hand on a bed post. His heart is beating so hard he’s shocked Sirius can’t hear it. Because the way Sirius is looking at him- the way his lips part on his next inhale- Remus could swear-
And then Sirius rolls away, sitting up against the pillows. “Oh! I wanted to ask you something.”
Remus lets out a breath as his chest deflates. “Yeah, sure. What’s up?”
“Are you going to keep taking Snape’s potions?” He looks nervous, Remus realizes, eyes darting around the room.
“Um…” Remus crosses to the other side of the bed, mirroring Sirius against the pillows. “I think so, yeah. As much as I hate it, it helped last time. It was easier.”
“Right. I remember. You were less…” Sirius trails off, looking away. “You were more like yourself. Moony?”
“Yeah?”
“What did it feel like?”
Remus tips his head at him. “Why does it sound like you’re scared to ask?”
Sirius fidgets with the sheets. “I don’t know what I’m allowed to say. After- after… everything.”
Oh.
Remus shifts his hips till he’s laying down with his head on the pillow. Sirius stays sitting up above him. “It’s alright, Sirius. Nothing has to be different than before.”
“It is, though.” Sirius says softly.
Remus closes his eyes, choosing not to answer him. “It feels… better. With the potion. Like I have more control. Like I can tell who’s a friend and who’s pray. I- um. I recognized you. More than just your smell.”
“Oh?”
“I could tell.”
“How?”
You were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.
The moon reflected off your fur and I couldn’t look at anything else.
Your eyes held mine and I knew I’d recognize you in any place, in any body.
“I just could.”
Sirius shifts till he’s laying down too. “I think James feels bad. About Snape's potions.”
“How so?”
“It wasn’t him, you know? It wasn’t his idea.”
Remus frowns at the ceiling. “Why does it have to be?”
Sirius shrugs. “I don’t think it does. But I think he feels guilty that he didn’t come up with it. Like it’s his fault it took so long because he didn’t try hard enough to fix it.”
“There was nothing to do. We were all stumped till bloody Snape came along.”
Sirius lets out a soft sigh. “Tell that to him.”
Remus thinks of James’s kind eyes and the little orange potions he saw in Monty’s drawer when he visited earlier. He mentally kicks himself. Of course James would be the type of person to try and save everyone at once and blame himself when he failed. “I imagine he’s a bit preoccupied.”
“Focusing on Monty, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“Mm.” Sirius shifts in the bed next to him. Remus can’t see his face in the dark. “Probably.”
They go quiet again.
“Moony?”
“Yeah?”
“You’d tell us if it hurt, right? The potion?”
Remus stares at the ceiling he can’t see. “It doesn’t any more than normal, Pads. Stop worrying.”
“You know I won’t.”
And then Sirius shifts and there’s a brush of skin against the back of Remus’s hand and his whole world goes still, reduced to that single point of contact. Sirius’s knuckles rest just lightly against Remus’s, and neither of them speak a word.
Remus waits for Sirius to pull away.
He doesn’t.
Remus’s heart has started up again, pounding in the silence of the room. He squeezes his eyes shut, relishing in the freedom to react without Sirius seeing. Biting his lip, he fights to keep his body relaxed. His hand hums where Sirius is touching it.
“I’ll tell you,” he says finally, and tries to ignore the way his voice cracks. “If it hurts more than usual. I’ll let you know.”
“Good.”
Their hands are still touching, and, fuck, that’s all Remus can think about. Call him whatever you like, but at his core he’s still a teenage boy. He can’t make himself care about the current conversation. His thoughts are… elsewhere.
Remus holds his breath and slowly lets his hand fall open, palm facing the ceiling. It’s a silent invitation, one he begs Sirius will take him up on. For a painful moment, nothing happens. Then, miraculously, Sirius’s pinky skirts across his palm and finally, finally , interlocks with Remus’s. The rest of his fingers follow and that’s it.
They’re holding hands.
In Remus’s bed.
In the dark.
Remus can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips. He lets himself sink into his pillow, releasing a breath. His whole body thrums with excitement, every inch of him tingling in the dark. He doesn’t know how long they lie there, breaths syncing in the silent air, before Remus starts thinking he should do something. Maybe he should roll over, tuck Sirius’s hair behind his ear, hold his face and…
Can he do that yet? Is that even what this is? Is he misinterpreting whatever's going on? Does Sirius think like that? Does he feel like that?
Is he even into guys?
Remus shoves his thoughts down and tips his head to the side to look at Sirius. In the dark he can barely make him out, black hair spilled across his pillow. His eyes are closed and lips parted as he breathes slowly and peacefully, chest rising and falling.
Asleep.
Remus watches him for a long moment, taking note how dark his lashes look against his pale cheeks. Those high cheekbones that could cut iron. Those lips.
Remus lets his thumb drag over the back of Sirius’s hand, a small self indulgence, before his own eyes flutter closed. It doesn’t take long for sleep to find him and gently pull him into its depths, soft and warm.
With a quiet exhale he lets himself drift off, fingers still firmly interlocked with Sirius’s.
---
Regulus tries to focus on the feeling of dirt pressing against his knees. He’s vaguely aware that his fingers are also digging into the ground, but he’s a bit too preoccupied with staying conscious to worry about ruining his manicure.
“Give me something ,” Bellatrix hisses, taking a step closer. The cobblestone walls of the courtyard sends her voice echoing in a way that Regulus thinks might just split his head in two.
They’ve been practicing occlumency for the last hour and a half. Well. Regulus has been practicing occlumency. Bellatrix has been brushing up on her legilimency skills.
Regulus forces himself to breathe, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He focuses on the air filling his lungs, trying to block out the pounding in his head. He’s never had a headache like this before. It’s almost indescribable in its intensity, throbbing and relentless. His voice cracks when he tries to speak, throat like sandpaper. “Just-”
“ Ligilimens !”
He bends forward again with a small cry, too far gone to contain himself physically.
Ocean of calm.
Ocean of-
Ocean.
Thoughts slipping under.
Ocean.
Water.
Drowning.
Drowning, drowning, drowning -
“Agh!” Bellatrix rips out of his head again with a cry of frustration. “Brat.”
He coughs violently, pain blocking out the small thrum of victory that usually accompanies her retreat. Curling his fingers in the dirt he squeezes his eyes shut as tight as he can.
This isn’t anything he can’t handle.
It doesn’t matter if it feels like his mind is starting to fray at the edges. It doesn’t matter if he’s in so much pain his vision is starting to blink in and out.
He can do this.
(He’s increasingly worried he won’t be able to keep this up much longer. He isn’t invincible, and Bellatrix seems to have no cap to her stamina.)
“ Ligili -”
“Bella.” A voice cuts her off, cold and clipped. “Hold on a minute.”
Regulus doesn’t open his eyes to see who it is. He keeps taking deep breaths. Keeps focusing on staying alive.
“I need to borrow Regulus for an errand in town.”
In through the nose.
Out through the mouth.
Don’t pass out.
“Little busy here, Cissy.”
“I don’t care. I need Regulus. Anyway, look at the state of him. You think he’ll keep this up? Walburga said teach him, not break him.”
“But I’m so close to cracking him. I can feel it.”
“Bella.”
A hiss through gritted teeth. “Fine! Fine. Take him. Regulus, we’ll pick this back up later.”
Regulus swallows thickly, unmoving from the ground. Someone touches his shoulder and he tries not to whimper. “Regulus.” Narcissa’s voice, cold and clipped but not cruel. “Let’s go. Up you get.”
Regulus takes a shuddering breath. He can do this. Slowly he sits back on his heels, pressing his hands to his head.
Ow.
Ow, ow, ow ow-
“Regulus. Now.”
He forces himself up on shaky feet, immediately stumbling. He understands now why Bellatrix’s torture victims cave so easily. She breaks their body through their minds, taking them down from the inside out. He sways distantly, wondering if Narcissa would let him get some pain potions from the house before leaving. He doubts it.
“We’re off to Diagon Alley. Really, Regulus, try not to look so frail. You’re the Black heir, not a scarlet fever patient.” Narcissa takes his arm. He realizes through the haze of pain that she’s about to apperate them.
Shit.
That’s not a good idea right now.
“Wait-” he croaks, but it’s too late. She turns on her heel and off they go, spinning through space.
When they land and his feet touch ground, Regulus instantly tips sideways. Lucky for him, Narcissa apperated them into an alleyway and he hits a wall before he fully keels over. Sliding down, Regulus tries his best to contend with the spinning in his head.
He can’t see, can’t think through the cloud of haze and pain he’s immersed in. The world won’t stay still and he feels like someone is slicing at his brain matter. Distantly he hears a sigh somewhere above him. “We really don’t have time for this.”
"Ugh." Regulus complains. "My head feels like it's going to implode and melt out through my eyes."
Narcissa rolls her eyes. "You're fine."
"I am not."
"Stop whining."
Regulus grits his teeth, trying to get himself under control. “Why are we here?” he manages from his position on the ground.
Narcissa peers down at him. “We’re picking up a wand from Olivanders.”
Regulus closes his eyes, pressing a hand against his forehead in an attempt to cool it down. He swears he feels it pulsing. “Why do you need me for that?”
Narcissa shrugs. “I don’t. But your other option was staying there with Bella and besides. As far as Blacks go, your company isn’t the worst.”
“Right.” Regulus manages. He sounds like death. He feels like death too, so maybe it’s only fitting.
“You know…” Narcissa trails off, staring down at him. “If you weren't so unbearably weak, I’d tell you you aren't as horrid at occlumency as we all expected you’d be.” `
“Thanks.”
“Keep slumping over like that and I’ll take it back. Come on. Stop being pitiful.”
She’s right, of course. She usually is. Regulus pushes himself to his feet, muscles like lead. “Okay. Why…” He lets his voice trail off, deciding voicing the question isn’t worth the effort.
“Why do we need a wand?” Cissa asks and he nods gratefully. Even that motion sends his stomach turning. “The Dark Lord is experimenting with different types of magic. He commissioned Olivander to make a wand capable of anything he wanted.”
“Oh.” Regulus starts walking, shielding his eyes against the blinding light of Diagon Alley. “Ugh.”
Narcissa hums in what might be sympathy. “Hm. I might have a word with Bella about her tactics. If you’re this torn up after two hours of training, I don’t know what you’ll do when she decides to go farther.”
“Don’t.” Regulus takes a breath. “It’s good for me. It’s helpful.”
Narcissa gives him a look. “Cousin, there’s a difference between training and torture.”
“You don’t think I can handle it?”
Narcissa rolls her eyes when he sways on his next step. “It’s not a matter of if you can handle it or not. It’s if you should. Bella isn’t always like this, you know. For some reason she’s trying really hard with you.”
“Honored.” Regulus says dryly.
She turns to look at him, gaze pricing. “Which tells me you have a secret, Regulus. One you’d give up your sanity to protect.”
He directs his gaze straight ahead. He says nothing.
“Bella knows that,” Narcissa continues. “And for some reason, she’s desperate to break you.”
“She’s done a bang-up job so far, hasn’t she?”
Narcissa snorts. “You should see yourself. I think we both know she’s a lot closer than you’d like her to be.”
“So why don’t you give it a go? I know you’re trained too.” Everyone in this god-forsaken family has to be. Regulus hasn’t tried yet- ligilimency is an offensive move, one he doesn’t have time for.
Narcissa sighs. “My abilities are… insufficient. I can recover memories better than secrets. Finding something someone isn’t intentionally hiding is one story. Breaking a person’s will is another entirely.”
“I’ve got Bella under control.” Regulus says, even as his head sends another spike of pain down his spine. The noise of the crowded alley is doing him no favors. He wonders if Narcissa would tell his mother if he tipped over and passed out right here on the street.
“You best be sure of that. I suspect we’ll be seeing a lot more of you soon.”
Regulus pauses. “What are you talking about?”
Narcissa refuses to look at him. “Has the Dark Lord not talked to you about…” For the first time, her eyes dart around, suspicious. “Taking the mark?” She finishes under her breath.
Something sinks in Regulus’s stomach. “Briefly.”
“You’d be the youngest ever, you know.”
“I know.”
“You’ll do it, then?”
Something in her tone makes him turn and look at her. There’s an expression on her face he isn’t expecting. Sollom and serious. “Why shouldn’t I?” He finally manages, voice low. He feels himself sway slightly as his headache gets worse, muscles starting to tremble.
She stays quiet for a moment. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t.”
“Right, well-”
“But I implore you to be cautious, Regulus. It’s not something you can come back from.”
He goes still. “What?”
“You’re young,” She says. “It won’t matter what anyone says. At the end of the day, it’s your choice.”
He wants to laugh.
His choice.
His.
As if he could turn down the Dark Lord and walk out unharmed.
As if he could walk out.
His head spins and he vaguely wonders if he’s about to be sick.
“Noted,” He croaks, throat dry.
“Don’t do anything rash, is my point. Most likely the Dark Lord will ask you to take the Mark next time he sees you.”
“I-”
“‘Cissa?”
Regulus freezes. He knows that voice. Muscles tensing, he turns. Sirius stands a few feet away, staring at them with hard eyes. He’s holding a shopping bag in one hand and a drink in the other.
Regulus decides then and there he wants to go home.
Sirius’s casual clothes have always been slightly off putting, so different from what he was allowed to wear back at Grimmauld. Pants that are too tight around his thighs and too loose around his ankles, shirts of all colors and textures. He stands out from the crowd, though that could just be Regulus.
Sirius refuses to look in his direction.
“Sirius.” Narcissa’s voice stays clipped, all business. “How fascinating. You’ve brought your friends.”
Friends?
It’s then that Regulus looks past Sirius to where James and Lupin are standing, both frozen in their spots, eyes wide and shoulders stiff.
Fuck.
Regulus didn’t expect to see him.
Not so soon.
He looks good.
He looks healthy.
Their eyes meet and Regulus can’t tear his gaze away. Won’t.
The sight of James sends the pain in his head spiking so sharply he sucks in a breath.
There’s so much there, there always has been, so much depth and feeling and love that Regulus nearly chokes. His head pounds and all he wants is to run to James and let him sooth him with gentle kisses and murmured assurances.
He winces and James’s expression shifts, just for a moment, to one of concern. Regulus wants to tell him that he’ll be fine, that he’s sorry he didn’t say goodbye, there’s no need to worry, he’s just far too exhausted to even bother with glamour right now.
Next to James Lupin glances between them with a strange look on his face, jaw set.
“...none of your business.”
Regulus fades back into the conversation just as Narcissa takes a step back, obviously trying to escape.
“I’m just wondering, cousin.” Sirius cocks his head. “Seems a bit odd for two death eaters to be out in broad daylight. Always thought you lot were more like vampires.”
Regulus’s head spins. He can’t be here anymore. He can’t- he can’t-
Swaying dangerously, Regulus lets out a soft hiss and shuts his eyes tight against the sudden blinding pain that overwhelms him when the gravity of who he’s looking at sets in. He’s been shoving James down for so long, becoming so good at hiding him that seeing him now is like Bellatrix ripping through his head with lightning precision, going exactly for James and yanking him out first try.
Narcissa takes a step closer to him, hand settling on his elbow lightly. Ducking her head, she whispers: “Regulus. Get yourself together. Get through this errand, then we can go home.”
He tries to nod, every inch of his body resisting.
“What was that? What’s wrong with him?” Sirius takes a step forward and Regulus looks away, back at James. Oh. James.
He looks so worried, eyes wide and fingers twitching as if he wants to reach out. Regulus knows he would if they were alone.
“He’s fine. If you’ll excuse us, we must be going now.”
“Just-”
“Pads, let’s leave it. Come on. We still need ink, don’t we? Then ice cream.” Lupin sets a hand on Sirius’s shoulder. Regulus doesn’t miss the way Sirius sinks into it. “Actually,” Lupin says, eyes flicking to Regulus. “James, why don’t you go get the ink? We can meet you up ahead.”
Regulus goes back to thinking maybe Lupin isn’t so bad.
As Regulus and Narcissa turn to leave, James catches his eye as he nods. “Alright.”
Regulus waits till Olivanders is in sight before he turns to his cousin. “Any chance I could meet you back here in like ten minutes? I need a new quill for school.”
“School.” She looks back at him. “You’re choosing school over a mission from the Dark Lord.”
He shrugs. “Doesn’t sound like you need me there. And anyway, I figured while we’re out…”
Rolling her eyes, she nods. “Fine. Hurry. If you pass out, I’m not waiting for you.”
He turns and sets off with no further debate. People pass him in a blur as he keeps his head down and walks quickly. Scribbulus Writing Implements is the only real place in Diagon alley to get moderately priced quills and ink- its obnoxiously large sign sticks out like a sore thumb. When Regulus reaches it, he looks up. James is waiting outside and glancing around nervously, chewing on his lip. Regulus’s heart shudders at the sight. Instead of stopping, Regulus walks right past him, elbow brushing his sleeve lightly. Vaguely aware of James’s footsteps behind him, Regulus turns down the nearest off-shoot alley and doesn’t stop, trying to get lost in the dark maze of corridors and tunnels set behind Diagon Alley.
When he’s positive they won’t be seen or followed, Regulus lets himself sink to the ground with his back against a wall. He puts his head between his knees, taking shuddering breaths. The world is still spinning and he can hear James rounding the corner.
He should really pull himself together, he thinks. He should really at least look up and face him head on.
He can’t bring himself to move.
There’s a russell of fabric and an intake of breath, and then the gentlest hand Regulus’s ever known sets down lightly on his back. “Regulus, love.”
Oh, he missed this.
With a small whimper he finally allows himself to truly feel how badly his head is killing him, doing his best to breathe into the pain. God, it hurts, and he can’t tell if James’s presence is making it better or worse.
“Regulus,” James sits down next to him, hand starting to run in soothing circles on his back. “What have they done to you?”
Shakely Regulus lifts his head, drinking in the sight of James’s face. Something warm blossoms in his gut, a feeling he’d almost forgotten. “James.”
“I’m here. I’m right here.” James brushes some of Regulus’s hair out of his eyes, tucking it behind his ear.
“I’m alright.” Regulus says, because he is, and if he isn’t, he will be, and he knows James will worry either way.
“You don’t look it,” James says softly.
“Thanks.”
“No glamour, Reg? I mean I’m glad, but a little surprised.”
Regulus sighs. “Not worth the effort. And it’s just a headache, I’ll be fine.”
They both go silent for a moment, just basking in the other’s presence. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye,” Regulus croaks.
A pause. “It’s alright,” James murmurs. “I just needed to see you. I was this close to just showing up to Grimmauld place myself.”
Regulus allows himself a small laugh. “I’m glad you didn’t.”
“How’s your summer going?” James asks, running a hand through his curls.
Regulus examines the cobblestones. “About as well as you’d expect.”
James grimaces, looking down. “You’ll tell me if you need anything? You’ll write?”
“Yeah,” Regulus lies. “I’d write.”
“What do you need right now?” James asks, lashes fluttering behind his glasses.
“Just this,” Regulus says, leaning in to give him the softest kiss he can. James’s hand comes up to hold his cheek and for a moment they stay there, just the two of them, kissing in a dark alley so hidden there’s dust on the cobblestones.
When James pulls back, he looks slightly flushed. “How am I supposed to leave you there?” He whispers. The words coil inside Regulus, brushing too close to a conversation they’ve had more than enough times.
“There’s only three weeks till summers over and school starts,” he says. “I think you’ll manage.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure,” James says and there’s something sad etched in the corners of his smile.
Regulus frowns. “What’s wrong?”
James looks away. “Nothing.”
He’s never been able to lie to Regulus.
“James.”
“It’s- I mean- my dad. He’s wasting away, Reg. His magic’s gone and he’s just so… unhappy . And it’s my fault. God.” He shakes his head and the look on his face makes Regulus’s heart twist.
“It’s not. Don’t think like that.”
“It is, though,” James says. “I begged him. I begged and begged and told him he’d take it if he really loved me. He didn’t want to, did you know that? He didn’t, and I made him. And that’s just- that’s just so awful of me-”
“Shit.” Regulus reaches out, everything in him needing to make James feel better. Needing to get that expression off his face. “You were scared. He would’ve refused if he wanted to. Give him some credit.”
James nods, ducking his head. “And Sirius is there, but so’s Remus, which means they’re both a little preoccupied, and I… I just fucking miss you, Reg.” He chuckles. “God, I sound like a five year old. Don’t listen to me.”
“Your dad will be fine,” Regulus says, wincing as another round of pain sends his head spinning. “Sirius and Lupin will figure their shit out. And…” He cuts himself off when he lets out another small sound, bracing himself on the wall behind him.
“Reg?” There’s James, full of concern.
“I’m fine. It’ll- It’ll pass.”
“What is it? What’s wrong?”
“It’s you.” Regulus tries to smile.
“What?”
“I- Bella’s occlumency training- I have to hide you and she’s just sharp - and now you’re here and I’m still so raw-” He realizes he’s not making sense and shuts up.
James stares at him. “So- seeing me is hurting you?”
Regulus goes quiet. “I’ll get over it.”
But James is already standing up and moving back. “Shit. Fuck. Fuck that whole family.”
“James, I’m fine. It’s just a headache.”
“Yeah, but it’s my fault.” James’s eyes squeeze shut for a quick second before fixing on Regulus.
“No. Wait a second-”
“I don’t want to hurt you-”
Regulus pulls himself to his feet. His head pounds with how much he needs James to stay. “James, can you… can you just…” He leans against the wall, trying to force air into his lungs.
“Reg?”
Making his feet move, Regulus wraps his arms around James and tucks his head against his chest. He’s soft and firm at the same time, and so so warm. Regulus takes a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of lavender. His head still hurts, sure, but it isn’t killing him anymore. Or maybe it is, and Regulus has just stopped caring. Any amount of pain would be worth this.
For a minute James doesn’t move. Eventually he wraps his arms around Regulus, holding him to his chest. “We’ve got to go, love,” he whispers, and Regulus knows he’s right. Of course he’s right.
“I know.”
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You aren’t.”
“Your head-”
“I’ve had worse.”
James lets out a soft breath. “I’ll see you at school. First thing.”
Regulus nods against him. His heart hurts. His forearm burns, bare but ready. Waiting. A secret that leaves his insides dirty and ugly, revolting. He wonders what James is going to do when he finds out. He wonders how long it’ll take to cast him aside.
“First thing,” he whispers, and leans back. Steps out of James’s grasp, separating their arms. It feels fitting, somehow, that he’d be the one to pull away.
“I’m going to go first. Wait a few minutes before following.” Regulus lets himself look James over one more time before stepping around him and walking down and out of the alley.
He grabs a quill from the shop, throwing a few galleons down on the counter before leaving to find Narcissa. She’s waiting outside the wand shop, a velvet box in hand. “Regulus,” she motions. He walks up to her and she looks him up and down suspiciously. “Holding it together?”
He nods briskly, trying desperately not to look over his shoulder. Maybe he’ll see James one more time- even his receding back-
“You’re still in one piece.” Narcissa notes dryly. “Any other errands, or are we headed back to Grimmauld?”
“Let’s go.”
Regulus grabs her arm and off they spin, sending his head spiraling and stomach turning. When they land on the doorstep of Grimmauld place, Regulus lets out a breath of relief. He can practically hear his bed calling to him from upstairs.
They step into the hall, Narcissa turning the handle carefully behind them and Regulus catching it right before it hits the frame. They’re both Blacks- they know not to slam any doors.
Regulus glances up the stairs, skin still humming from the warmth of James’s touch. Just three weeks, he thinks. Three more weeks.
He can do three weeks.
“I’m going to-”
Narcissa grabs his arm with such a sudden intensity that Regulus looks up sharply, cutting off the end of his sentence. Narcissa’s frozen to the spot, eyes narrowed and focused on the living room.
Regulus’s muscles lock and his blood runs cold, the heat of James melting off him. He's glad, actually. James has no place here. Regulus wants to keep him as far from these halls as he can.
“Narcissa, Regulus,” The Dark Lord rises from his seat. “Welcome.”
His eyes fix on Regulus, snake-like slits narrowing in. A ugly smile peels his lips away from his teeth as he spreads his hands. “Join us.”