Nightmares
James
‘James please, don’t leave me! I’m sorry, but I had to!’.
‘I can’t believe it. The person I thought to be my soulmate. A Death Eater’.
…
‘Does that mean you don’t love me anymore?’.
‘How could I ever love you after this? So it happened, in the end: you became just like your mother’.
…
Now that he’s standing in front of him, James can only wish he never uttered those words. He’s sorry, he’s so deeply sorry. But something in the way Regulus is looking at him tells him he won’t accept his apology. He made a mistake and he has no idea how to make up for it.
‘Regulus, please, I’m sorry’.
His eyes meet James’, he can see the spark of life attenuating in them, slowly but surely. ‘You have no idea what you’ve done, James’ Regulus’ voice is flat, emotionless.
James tries to reach for him, his fingers grab nothing. He’s just a phantom before his eyes.
‘Please, don’t leave me!’.
Regulus laughs at him, a bitter laugh, full of loathing. ‘What did you do when I asked you the exact same? What did you do, James?’.
‘I still love you, Regulus! I never stopped loving you’.
‘Well, I did. You’re no one to me now, Potter’.
Then, James sees him. Right behind Regulus, wand drawn: the Dark Lord. He takes a step back, but Regulus stops him: ‘Don’t worry, you’re not his target. I am’.
‘Walk away! Go, I’ll distract him!’.
Regulus doesn’t move, not even as James keeps urging him. A tired smile makes its way on his lips, he closes his eyes as Voldemort whispers his deadly curse. ‘Finally. The end’.
‘No!’.
“No!”.
James snapped up, eyes wide, fingers clenching around the bedsheets. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adapt to that darkness. He was in his room at Remus’ place, a cool breeze was blowing outside, like every night. Regulus and Voldemort had disappeared. He glanced over at Sirius, sleeping on the bed on his right. They’d moved to the small apartment Remus had rented to stay closer to each other, in that mess of a life they were living, nothing but a temporary accommodation. Sirius, Peter, Remus and him, just like the old times. It had become some sort of headquarters of the Order, other than their refuge. Sometimes, they reunited there to update the others on the latest events, count how many deaths had taken place that week, and worked on stratagems to bring the conflict to its very end. Occasionally, Professor Dumbledore came to visit them, gave them a few instructions. Life in the Order of the Phoenix was exciting, without a doubt. Thrilling and engaging of course, though full of danger. Everyday, James woke up with the fear that one of his friends could not get to the end of that day.
Moreover, a feeling of emptiness filled his days, one after the other. Something was missing, something important. And he knew exactly what that was. Who that was.
James sucked in a breath, then another, trying to calm himself down. He was fine. He was home, safe. There were no threats looming over them.
But yet, a new kind of fear was beginning to clutch his chest. He didn’t like that, not even a little bit. James ran his fingers through his hair, wiped away the drops of sweat beading his forehead in spite of the cold. His shirt was sticking to his back, the covers had slid on the floor. He pulled them back on the mattress, then reached for the glass of water lying on his bedside table. He emptied it in a few gulps, his mouth still felt dry afterwards.
That wasn’t the first time James had such a dream. Actually, the same scene had started to form in his mind pretty frequently at night. Each time, he woke up all of a sudden, as if his mind refused to let the nightmare end, knowing damn well what would take place: Regulus’ death.
It had been two years since they’d last seen each other, and yet James’ love for him had never ceased. He’d told him he could have never loved a monster like him. He’d regretted those words soon after. Though, feeling too betrayed to make an effort at apologising, he’d simply walked away. He’d never forgotten him and he knew he never would.
James couldn’t help but wonder whether Regulus was still alive, whether that recurrent dream was some sort of bad omen, foreseeing future events he dreaded.
What hurt more every time that scene popped up before his eyes, ruining the tranquillity given him by sleep, were the boy’s last words, along with that fucking bitter smile that seemed to have no intention to stop haunting him:
‘Finally. The end’.
A small part of James, the deepest meandre of his conscience, told him Regulus would have probably uttered those words in such a scenario.
He was terribly afraid something irreparable could happen. He couldn’t die without seeing him for one last time and apologise for what he’d done. He missed him. And he loathed himself for having pushed him away like that, during that fucking autumn of 1977.
It didn’t matter how fulfilling it felt to fight for his ideals, to defend the world he lived in, side by side with his family. Life would never be perfect without Regulus.
James feared he’d lost himself, his way home. And he feared he would never recognise his light anymore. Perhaps, he was the one in need of a lighthouse now.
His eyes landed on his left wrist. His vision without his glasses was blurred, though he could still perfectly distinguish the contourings of those three letters, the same black lines he’d traced a hundredth times with the tip of his fingers. The name of the one who would always be the owner of his heart:
R.A.B.
Regulus Arcturus Black.
James had never stopped fighting for him. The desire to build a better world was moved by the memory of the smile he’d managed to help blossom on his lips, and which he feared had slowly wilted. He wanted to accomplish his mission to help create a better reality for them both to live in. Because without Regulus, all of that would be just worthless.
James let his thumb brush over those letters, a surge of nostalgia grew inside him.
He needed to do something. He had to fix what he’d broken, no matter how long it would take.
A movement caught with the corner of his eye averted his attention from the tattoo. Sirius shifted on his left side, rubbing his eyes. “James?” he murmured, voice thick with sleep.
“Why are you up this late?”.
“I’m alright Sirius, I was just thirsty” James lied, trying to dismiss that matter as quickly as possible and avoid worrying his friend. “Go back to sleep”.
Sirius propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m pretty sure I heard you screaming”.
“Everything’s fine” James repeated. “It was just a nightmare”.
“Do you want to talk about it?”.
“I don’t want to bother you, Padfoot, go back to sleep. We have to wake up early in the morning, take some rest”.
Sirius sat up, crossing his legs. He moved a lock of hair out of his eyes, then let out a small sigh. “It’s a tense moment James, I know how scary things can be. Come on, tell me everything. I want to listen”.
A light smile made its way on James’ lips. Sirius was always there when he needed him.
His brother.
“It’s not a serious matter, really-”.
“It doesn’t matter. Talking is a way to let things out. I always told this to Regulus every time he refused to tell me about his nightmares. You remind me of him when he was just a child at this moment, you know?”.
He soon realised he’d touched a sore point. He fell silent, lowered his gaze. “Sorry”. Sirius had never gotten over his little brother’s betrayal either, though he’d understood the only way to go on was to live with the knowledge things had gone a certain way, people had made their choices, and they couldn’t turn back time to change them.
James hadn’t. The wound still felt painfully fresh.
“I dreamt of him” he finally whispered in one breath.
Sirius remained silent, eyes low on his hands. He began picking at his chipped black nail polish as James went on to describe the nightmare. Sirius’ eyes darkened, partially hidden by the dark locks framing his features. James finished, reporting Regulus’ last words, Sirius cursed. A red dot appeared beside his nail, he brought the finger up to his lips and sucked the blood away. “It was just a dream, James” he said, as if wanting to convince himself more than his friend. “Nothing but a bad dream”.
“I know, though what if…”.
“Don’t say it. Please don’t finish that sentence” that plea stopped James, feeling like a burden upon his heart. “It’s not going to happen. He’s not going to die, so stop saying absurdities. That was nothing but a nightmare. All fiction”.
He nodded. “Yeah. You’re right. He’s probably fine, fighting for the cause he believes to be right”.
“Right” Sirius’ lips tightened in a line. Silence fell afterwards. They would both still love him, no matter what. Though James wasn’t that sure he was actually okay; there was something, some sort of sixth sense that suggested he had to do something, quickly. Something to reach out to Regulus and lead him back home. Nothing assured him that was what he wanted, though James knew that the boy he loved had never died.
However, he opted not to speak those fears in front of Sirius.
“Thank you for listening to me”.
“Any time, Prongs”.
Calling the matter settled, James slid back under the covers. Sirius did too, giving him his back. Minutes later, James knew they were both still awake, though none of them uttered a word, too deeply immersed in their own thoughts and concerns.
James stared at the moon, high outside the window, shining above that house of love, revolution, broken dreams and rising hopes.