Rain
Back at the beginning of the year, James and Regulus snuck up to the roof. Regulus had walked into the Come and Go room, took a look around, and frowned. “It’s fall,” he said, and James still remembers the glint in his eyes. “Not winter. Let's go out.”
“The doors are locked.” James stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “We could sneak out, if you wanted. I know a few ways.”
Regulus shrugged. “Or, we could go up to the roof.”
James raised a brow, lips twitching. “You know how to get onto the roof?”
Regulus smiled. “We go up there to smoke, sometimes. It’s a great view.”
“Regulus Black, sneaking around?” James crossed his arms playfully. “Never thought I’d see the day.”
“Just come on.”
The tiles were only slightly slippery with evening dew. At some point James’s foot shifted just wrong on a shingle and with an embarrassing squeak he slipped sideways. He flailed for a moment, scrabbling at the roof before a hand grabbed his forearm firmly. Regulus pulled him back up, not letting go of his arm. “No grace,” he chided, though his eyes were slightly wide.
“Sorry,” James choked, shifting closer to him. “My bad.”
“Come on. You obviously need to stay on the flat parts.” Regulus tugged him forward onto the top of the roof, leading him out to the middle.
“Merlin, Reg, look at the stars!” James tilted his head up, staring at the sky. Without the light pollution of a nearby town, the stars shone and blinked down at them with startling clarity.
“Mm.” Regulus pulled him down till they were sitting on the roof, only then letting go of his arm. “Told you.”
“They’re so bright.” When he looked over at Regulus he found his eyes already on him. Reg leaned over him on the roof, propping himself up on an elbow.
Reaching out, he combed James’s hair away from his face and cupped his jaw. “Mhm.”
“What are you doing?” James mumbled, voice caught.
“Looking at you.”
James cleared his throat. “Thought we were supposed to be stargazing.”
Regulus’s eyes flitted over his face, soaking it in. “You’re prettier, anyway.”
James was fairly certain he’d blushed down to his toes. “Don’t- you can’t-”
That in itself was too much. He spent so long alone, so long living for others, that it was such a foreign feeling to be wanted . Wanted and told as much. He pressed into Regulus’s hand, shutting his eyes. “You can’t say things like that,” He said finally.
Regulus’s thumb stroked over his cheek. “I don’t think I say it enough, actually.”
James let out a soft breath, trying to push past the emotion threatening to choke him. “Please.”
Regulus’s brows pinched slightly. “What?”
But James just shook his head, tucking his face in Regulus’s shoulder. He didn’t say anything else, but he didn’t need to. Regulus laid back down, keeping a hand resting in James’s hair.
“Just watch the stars, Potter.”
---
“Prongs.”
“Prongs.”
James looks over, blinking slightly. Sirius is staring at him, curled up in an armchair. “What is wrong with you?”
James can’t bring himself to meet his gaze. “What?”
“I’ve called your name at least four times.”
James closes his eyes for a moment, taking a breath. Everything in him aches. “What’s up?”
“Can I… um.” Sirius shifts uncomfortably. “Can I talk to you?”
James blinks at him. “Always.”
“I…”
“Sirius.”
“Something happened.”
Oh.
So that’s what they were talking about.
Finally.
“What?”
“Remus- I-” Sirius makes a frustrated sound, wiping a hand down over his face. “Remus might’ve… kissed me.”
James raises his brows. “Oh?”
Sirius narrows his eyes. “You knew.”
James shrugs.
“How? Did he- did he tell you?”
“No.”
Sirius opens his mouth to ask but James beats him to it. “He didn’t have to.”
Sirius looks down miserably. “Did he tell you I was awful to him?”
“Might’ve mentioned that.”
“Did he tell you it happened again?”
James sits forward, mouth falling open. “What? No?”
Sirius nods. “Last full moon. He was in pain, bad, and I was just trying to comfort him and then-”
“Did you kiss him back?”
Sirius goes still, avoiding James’s gaze. He says nothing.
“Sirius.”
“Maybe.”
“Sirius.” James gestures. “You can’t- you can’t do that to him.”
“I know. I know.”
“So are you- together now?”
Sirius shakes his head quickly. “No. No.”
James lets out a huff, sitting back. “Why. If you kissed him back, why?”
Sirius makes a frustrated sound, burying his head in his hands. “I’m not-”
“You kissed him back.”
“Are you, then? Are you gay, James? You sneak out almost every night to go hook up with some boy.”
“I’m… not.” James ignores the way his gut clenches at the question. “But I’m not straight. I mean- obviously.” He takes a deep breath. “Listen. No one is asking you to be one thing or the other. You don’t have to label it. I think- I think all he wants is something.
“I can’t-” Sirius shakes his head quickly.
"Before, when I hinted at it, you didn't shut it down this hard. Why?"
"It wasn't real then. it was okay to have these thoughts, these emotions, because nothing was coming of them. It was stupid and fake and safe. And then he kissed me, and it was all so real all of a sudden, and they weren't thoughts anymore, they were actions, reality-"
“Do you care about him?”
“But-”
“No, do you care about him? In that way? In the same way he cares about you?” James takes care to avoid the L word.
“Yes.”
James lets out a breath of relief. That, at least, was easy. “Ok. That’s all you need, Sirius. That’s all he’s asking for.”
“It’s not that simple.”
James thinks of Regulus’s smile when James makes a joke, soft and ever so gentle. The way his hands feel when they comb through his hair or adjust his glasses on his nose. Then he thinks about- no. No. He actually doesn’t think about that. “Yes it is.” he murmurs.
Sirius studies him carefully. “You love him. Your boy.”
James nods, trying not to let the motion crack him open and leave him as bare as he feels. Trying not to let Sirius see how much that fact is destroying him. Sirius presses his lips into a line, looking down. “I can’t be- I can’t be definitive like Remus wants me to. I can’t be just one thing.”
“He’s not asking you to.”
Sirius sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. “How do you do it? How does it come to you so easily?”
James opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. There’s a sudden absence of air in his lungs, and he’s just so sick of people telling him it’s easy. So sick of no one understanding how painful it is, loving Regulus.
He lets out a small sound and bends forwards, running a hand through his hair desperately, elbows propped up on his knees. He can’t breathe. It hurts, somewhere deep in his chest, somewhere he can’t quite find. “Ah-”
“James?” There’s a weight on the couch next to him and a hand on his shoulder, rubbing his back softly. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” James gasps, choking on air. “Nothing.”
Sirius stares at him. “Are you- are you ok? You and- whoever?”
James squeezes his eyes shut, the bridge of his glasses digging into his nose. “We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
“Prongs.” Sirius rubs his shoulder. “I’ve been so good, not asking, but it’s difficult when you’re so-”
“So what?”
“So hurt. James, what is he doing to you? Everytime I bring it up, this thing that you have, you shut me down so viciously. Why can’t you tell me who he is? I just want a name. I won’t judge. I promise.”
James just shakes his head, still gasping for breath. “I can’t. I told you. I can’t.”
“You should. You can.”
“No.”
“Just-”
“Sirius. No.”
The hand on his back disappears and Sirius sits back, letting out a sigh. “Fine. But- I want you to recognize how much restraint it’s taken not to find out.”
“I don’t think you could.”
“If I tried, I’m sure. On the map, maybe.”
James shakes his head. “Good luck.” He still somehow can’t sort out everything inside of him, emotions left in a jumbled mess.
There’s a sound on the stairs and then Remus hops the last step before stopping in front of the fire, giving them an odd look. “You both should be packing right now.”
Sirius coughs and James just sighs, trying to shove back down everything Sirius just brought up. “I'm already packed.”
Remus raises his brows. “So early?” He glances over at Sirius, and James watches both of them look away at the same time. “What are you guys talking about?”
“The identity of James’s secret lover.”
Remus’s eyes flick to his and James subtly shakes his head, letting out a breath. “Unsuccessfully.”
Remus stares at him for a moment, cocking his head. “You look- did you sleep last night?”
“Sure.”
“James-”
James stands up before he can finish, giving Sirius a look before retreating to the stairs. “I’m going to bed. Train leaves early tomorrow. Night.”
Under the covers, he tries not to let the guilt drown him.
---
“Did he seem off to you?” Remus forces himself to look at Sirius, silently cursing James or leaving them alone together.
Sirius stares after him, up the stairs. “I just… wish I knew who it was.”
“Mm.” Remus takes a moment to gather his courage, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Pads.”
“Don’t.”
“We need to talk.”
“Now?”
“Now.” Remus tentatively takes a step, then another, before sitting down in the spot James left on the couch. “So.”
Sirius keeps his eyes firmly on the fire in front of them. “So.”
Remus clears his throat. He hates this, hates this thick silence that threatens to choke him. “Sirius. I shouldn't have- I mean, I’m sorry. You set a boundary, and I… crossed it. Again. So. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault,” Sirius says quickly, looking up. “You were in pain.”
“That’s no excuse. I’ve been in pain before.”
“Yes, but-”
“You don’t have to say anything. I just. I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, it really is.”
“But I kissed you back.”
Remus snaps his mouth shut, turning to look at him. Everything goes still, waiting. “What?”
“Both times.” The firelight dances in Sirius’s eyes.
Remus can’t say anything, just staring. Every muscle in his body hums with warmth. Sirius frowns softly. “I’m not gay.”
Oh.
Right.
“Yeah. Yeah, you said. That’s why I’m apologizing-”
“-but. I’m not- I mean.” Sirius squeezes his eyes shut before setting his gaze on Remus. “I kissed you back.”
Remus swallows dryly. “I noticed.”
“So- I-” Sirius shakes his head, obviously frustrated. “I like you, Remus. A lot. Fucking hell, it kills me not to…”
“What?”
Sirius blinks at him. “What?”
“You like me?”
“I thought… I thought that was kinda obvious.”
“You like me?”
Sirius just stares at him as Remus sits back, everything in him exploding into emotion. Relief. Happiness. Salvation. “You idiot. You like me.”
“I already said that,” Sirius says grumply. “Don’t make me repeat it.”
“I like you too. If- I mean- I. Well.” Remus presses the back of his hand mouth, smiling into his skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this giddy.
“I gathered. From the kissing.” Sirius cheeks turn bright pink as he stares stubbornly at the couch.
“Can I- can I do that again?” Remus mumbles, before shaking his head. “God. No. That was awful. I mean- can I kiss you, Sirius?”
Sirius doesn’t meet his eyes, nodding at the couch. Remus reaches forward, breath catching in his throat. He’s fairly certain everyone in a five mile radius can hear his heartbeat. He tips Sirius’s chin up, staring at him with bated breath. “Are you sure-”
His question is answered when, for the first time, Sirius leans in and kisses him before he can finish.
It’s soft and gentle and so, so perfect, because Remus isn’t worried about him pulling away anymore. Because he can keep him here, in front of the fire, against his lips, as long as possible. Because he likes him.
“Don’t go anywhere,” He whispers. Sirius just pulls him in again, making a small sound in the back of his throat.
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” He responds.
“Don’t,” Remus says again, because he doesn’t think he can take it if Sirius leaves again.
His hand comes up to cup Sirius’s face, running a thumb over his cheekbone. Sirius pulls him closer, desperate now. “Come to Christmas,” he whispers against Remus’s lips.
“Anything,” Remus murmurs back, chasing his mouth.
Anything.
Next to them, the fire crackles on.
---
Dorcas joins them on the train ride back. This isn’t a surprise, as James has come to expect her presence around the group. She sits with them outside, comes up to them in the halls, and now, apparently shares train compartments with them. It doesn’t matter- they’ve all grown to like her.
“Hiya,” James says as she sits down across from him. “How are you doing?”
“Tired,” she sighs, stretching her arms above her head. “Doesn’t matter. How are you?”
“Fine.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“Right.”
Sirius makes a sound from where he’s fast asleep, head resting on Remus’s shoulder. James doesn’t know if that means they talked, but the way Remus looks down at him is definitely a little insinuating. James turns back to Dorcas, dropping his voice to a whisper. “Come find the snack cart with me?”
“Sure.”
They stand up and shimmy out, trying to slide the door shut as quietly as possible behind them. “Are they… I mean, it’s not my place, but Sirius and Remus seem…” She struggles to find the words. “Close.”
James raises his eyebrows. “You could say that.”
She looks him over, nodding. “Right. Good for them.”
He keeps his voice cool and careful. “You don’t mind?”
She rolls her eyes, shrugging and turning away. “I came out to my parents last year, Potter.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah.” James swallows and moves forward to keep up with her.
There’s a brief silence as they pass between cars. Dorcas glances at him out of the side of her eye. “You’ll talk to your parents? About meeting Moody?”
James nods. “Yeah, ‘course. We should really start going to Order meetings. All of us, I mean. We aren’t invited currently, which I think is stupid. If we’re old enough to fight, we should at least be old enough to go to the meetings.”
“Where are they held?”
“I think the location changes. Last time they were down an offshoot of Knockturn Alley. Honestly, I think that was for the sole purpose of throwing the death eaters off. Hide in plain sight sort of thing.”
Dorcas nods, then chuckles a bit. James cocks his head at her. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m just remembering. Regulus used to refuse to go down there. He said he didn’t like the darkness in the corners of the alley.”
“Yeah, well. Reg has always hated rats.”
And, well.
Shit.
Dorcas just… stops walking. Fully. Slowly she turns to look at him and James swallows. Fuck. Honestly.
“You- How do you know that?”
James opens his mouth then closes it again, staring at her. Her eyes search him quickly, boring into his soul. After a second, she takes a step back. “Oh. Oh, shit.”
He can feel his heart pounding. “Fuck.”
“Oh.” Dorcas says again.
“He’s Sirius’s little brother, I obviously heard from him-”
Dorcas wheels around and pushes past him, marching all the way back to the compartment and opening the door. “Hey, Sirius. Quick question. Is your brother afraid of rats?”
Sirius blinks at her, face only hardening slightly. “Uh… no?”
“Thanks.” She shuts the door, cutting off Sirius’s muffled question of why. She turns to face James, crossing her arms.
“Shit.” He mutters.
“Reg?” She questions accusingly. “Since when do you call him Reg?”
“Everyone calls him Reg.”
“No, only the people he lets.” She pinches the bridge of her nose, letting out an exasperated breath. “Maybe I should rephrase. Why does he let you call him Reg?”
“Sirius-”
“Yeah, that excuse went out the window the first time you used it.”
James takes a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. He says nothing, and Dorcas just sighs. “Come on.” taking his arm she pulls him into an empty compartment, shutting the door behind them and sinking into a seat. James follows her reluctantly, folding his arms over his chest.
“He didn’t… he hasn’t mentioned anything?” He asks after a moment.
Dorcas scans his face. “Should he have?”
“No,” James says quickly, then takes a breath. It doesn’t matter, he supposes. She probably already figured it out. “...He didn’t want anyone knowing.”
And that's that.
Dorcas lets out a puff of air and sits back, taking a moment to gather her words. “How long?”
James shrugs. “Middle of last year, if I had to guess.”
Dorcas raises her brows. “What? Really?”
“He never said?”
“No. Well, I thought… I mean, I knew something was up. He’s been different lately, but I thought that was on account of… other things.” They go quiet for a moment. Dorcas speaks up first. “Who made the first move?”
“Him, technically.”
“Technically?”
“You know Reg.”
She nods, conceding the point. “Shit. Gryffindor's golden boy. Really, Regulus?”
James scrunches his nose up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing. I suppose it makes sense.” She nods after a moment, meeting his eyes. “You haven’t told anyone.”
“Remus knows.”
“Oh. Interesting.”
“Found out, though, so I suppose I really didn’t.”
She sighs and looks out the window. “Of course he wouldn’t tell me. He’s always been so scared… even though he knows I’d be fine with it. Even though he knows I know.” She smirks. “You should see his face when Barty asks his opinion on a girl. If that boy ever thought he could pass as straight…”
James blinks. “I didn’t figure that out till he kissed me.”
“Sometimes you can be quite dense, Potter.”
“So I’ve been told.” He looks down. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t spread this,” James says tentatively. “Please.”
“Yeah. Yeah, of course I won't.”
“I have a question.”
“Ask it.”
“Why don’t you two talk anymore?”
Dorcas takes a shuddering breath, hands twisting in her lap. “He made a choice I didn’t agree with. Went down a different road. And recently he did something that I couldn’t… get past.”
She looks up and their eyes lock. Something passes between them, some sort of shared understanding. It’s because he’s watching her face so closely that he sees the exact moment she realizes. Her eyes widen, just a fraction, at James’s impassive expression. She knows he knows. She knows he’s pretending not to.
If she were anyone else she’d hate him.
After a moment she nods and looks down at her lap, thinking. “Do you treat him well?” She asks finally.
James stares out the window, watching the trees whip by. “Not as well as I’d like,” he says softly. “As well as he lets me.”
“Sounds like him,” She says, tipping her face into her hands. “God. I wonder how much this secret is destroying him.”
“What-”
“His family, Potter. Sirius. He’s choosing you over all of them. You know how dangerous that is, right?”
James opens his mouth but no words come out. Slowly he shuts it again.
“I let you in, let you past my defenses, let you talk and hold and kiss me. That’s my rebelion.”
Maybe he was telling the truth.
“I’m trying,” he whispers softly.
Dorcas stands up, looking down at him from the door. “I’m glad he has you,” she says eventually. “I’m glad you care. I’m- I’m glad it’s you.”
Dumbly James nods, biting his lip. “You can’t talk to him?”
“No. We passed that, I think. I can’t follow him.” She looks him over. “Take care of him.”
James blinks. “Of course.”
“But-” she takes a deep breath. “Take care of yourself first. Do what you have to do to get out of this in one peice.”
And that-
That’s such a laughable notion he has to stop himself from smiling.
Of course he’d do anything for Regulus. Of course he’d put him over himself any day. He already has. Nothing Dorcas can say will change that.
“Right.”
She nods and disappears out the door, and James goes back to looking out the window.
---
Regulus wishes the train would go slower. The speed at which it barrels down the tracks leaves him a little shaky. It always has.
Around an hour into the ride rain starts streaking down the windows, lowering the temperature in the car. He wraps his robe around him tighter, fogging up the window with his breath and watching it clear. Next to him Evan mumbles something in his sleep. Barty looks up briefly before going back to staring out the window.
Regulus looks down at his sleeve, closing a hand over his forearm. It burns, though Regulus can’t tell why. He isn’t being Called, and the tattoo is old enough he normally can’t feel it. Maybe it’s the guilt.
He’ll show James, he thinks. Before Easter. When there’s not too much of the year left, and they don’t have to run into each other in the halls. When he no longer has to see his face.
He just- he just wants more time.
The thing inside him lifts its ugly head. It’s still in there, disgusting and unsettling, though it’s faded into the background the past few weeks. Now though, it comes back with a vengeance, turning his stomach.
He wonders if it’s the proximity to the Dark Lord that’s stirring it up. Then he wonders if it’s the distance from school- from safety. He’s not sure. Voldemort said he’d train him, teach him how to use whatever stolen power he planted inside him. Maybe that’s what he’s got planned for this break.
He still doesn’t want it. He wonders if there’s still enough time to get it out of him. It isn’t his, and it never will be. Harold didn’t die for an article on pastries, he died so Regulus could use his essence to serve his lord. And he hates it.
He’s getting more and more tired lately- like the transplanted magic is sapping all his energy. Or maybe that’s just high school.
“Do you think he’ll be mad?” Barty asks quietly, head up against the window. Regulus looks up, but Barty’s eyes aren’t on him, watching the rain stain down the glass. “If my photo turns up in a paper somewhere?”
His dad, Regulus thinks. “Yeah,” he murmurs, clearing his throat. “I bet he would.”
They go quiet again, for who knows how long. It takes a while for Regulus to speak. “How bad is it going to be this time?”
Barty shrugs. “He’s been sending letters.”
Regulus pictures his own pile of envelopes, all marked with a black wax seal on his bed stand. “Right.”
“I’ll learn, this time. How to get out of it.”
Regulus casts his gaze towards the ceiling. “Some Imperios are harder to break than others.”
“That’s no excuse.”
The words sink into his stomach and he’s about to say something before-
“I should’ve- I should try harder.”
Regulus nods. “You will.”
“Maybe my Mum will he-”
“She won’t.” Regulus learned long ago giving Barty false hope never got him anywhere good.
“You’re right.” Barty lets out a low groan.
The sound sends Evan stiring next to them, blinking awake. “How long?”
Regulus shrugs. “We’ve got time.”
“Ugh. Should’ve slept longer.”
It’s quiet, without the girls. Pandora stops by sometimes, but mostly just to talk to Regulus. She has her own Ravenclaw friends, and Dorcas doesn’t speak to them anymore.
“Is there a meeting this break?” Evan asks, clearing the sleep from his throat with a swallow.
“I’m sure,” Barty says. “It’s high time. The real question is: are we invited?”
“Reg certainly is,” Evan intones. “He’s all important now.”
“You have to tell us what happened on that mission.”
“Nothing happened,” Regulus says softly, staring at the ground. “Stop asking.”
“You keep saying you went with your mother but-”
“Barty.”
“-we all know the Dark Lord took you with him.”
“Barty.”
“Did you do something interesting? Did you find something for him, or beat up some mudbloods? Oh- did the two of you kill anyone?”
Regulus is in the hall, door shutting behind him, before anyone can blink. Crossing his arms over his chest, he walks down the hallway and till he finds an empty compartment. He’s in the mood to be alone.
The rain comes down harder, sky dark. He hugs himself tighter and draws his knees to his chest, resting his head on them as he stares out the window.
He stays like that for the rest of the ride.
---
“Dad?”
“James.”
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“How are you doing?”
“...I’ve been better.”
James has to take a deep breath, grip tightening on the door frame. Who’s fault is that? he wants to scream, but the relief of seeing his father alive and well triumphs and he ultimately shoves the words back down his throat. “I missed you,” He says instead, one last attempt at an olive branch, and watches as his father’s expression tightens.
“I missed you too.”
James stares at him for another moment before huffing out a laugh and turning on his heel, ready to walk out. Behind him, he hears Monty take a breath. “James. Wait.”
James turns around slowly, eyes hard. He’s angry, obviously, and he can’t seem to find it in himself to care. “What’s up?”
“You’re mad. Why?”
“Why do you think?”
Monty stares at him, shifting on the couch. “I just said I missed you.”
“Not enough to write to me.”
“I was busy.”
“Tell that to the pile of letters you sent Sirius.”
“James-”
“Look, I don’t care, alright? I don’t. Write to me if you want.“ James shakes his head. "You have every right to be mad at me. But not telling me you ran out of potions? Really, Dad? Mum had to write me.”
Monty takes a moment to gather his words. “I’m not mad at you.”
James raises one brow, staying silent. Monty sighs.
“I’m not mad at you. You did what you had to do. I made my choice. So did you. So I’m not mad… just resentful.”
Somehow, that’s worse.
“Resentful.” James narrows his gaze. “Resentful? That’s why you didn’t tell me? That’s why you didn’t write? Because you resented me?”
“You make me sound like a child.”
“Maybe because you’re acting like one.”
They both watch each other from across the room, taking deep breaths. “I’m doing this for you James. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you the potions ran out- I didn’t know if it mattered, and honestly, I didn’t want to. I acted immaturely, and I’m sorry. But this, whatever this is, I’m doing it for you. I want you to remember that.”
James presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath. ”And I want you to be doing it for yourself.”
Monty shakes his head. “I’m not. You know that. I’m doing this because you asked me to. I don’t- Merlin, James, I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to be stuck on the couch, unable to get up unless my wife helps me. You begged me- made me do this- and I did, because I love you, because I'd do anything for you. That doesn't mean I'm happy with my decision.”
Dropping his hands, James frowns. “But you made it anyway. Because of me.”
Monty pinches the bridge of his nose. “I don’t blame you for asking me to take the potions.”
“No, you just resent me for it.”
Monty stares at him for a long moment. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”
James runs a hand through his hair, letting out a bitter laugh. “Nothing. It’s fine. It doesn't matter. I have more for you, I’ll give them to you later. I don’t care what you think of me. I don’t care if you resent me. I don’t regret what I did- and in the end, you’re still the one that agreed. Even if it was slightly coerced.” He takes a shuddering breath. “Merlin, dad, I don’t care if you never talk to me again, just drink the potions.”
He means every word.
Monty doesn’t say anything for a long time. “Sometimes, for your own sake, I wish you’d care a little less about those you love.”
James almost bears his teeth when he smiles. “Me too.”
“Regulus-”
“I don’t want to talk about Regulus.”
“Fine.”
An awkward silence falls between the two of them, the accumulation of all the words left unsaid bearing down. Or maybe it’s that there’s nothing left to say, the lack of words, that’s really weighing on them.
James nods after a moment, decisive and decided. “It’s good to see you, Dad. I missed you.” With that he turns and walks out, passing Sirius and Effie and going to his room. He shuts his door and flops down on his bed, burying his face in his pillow. He’s missed this smell. He’s missed this house.
It’s going to be a long two weeks, he decides.