Chapter 1
Above all else, Regulus was a Black.
That was all he was when it came down to it; it was inescapable—his only truth. On its own, this could have been a good thing. It came with power, riches, status, and everything anyone could want. It was the life many dreamed of, so why wasn’t it enough for him?
He would never be enough; that was a fact. He couldn’t escape his past and didn’t know if he had the strength to fight for his future. Maybe there was never anything worth fighting for in the first place.
He was the spare, always the second choice. To be honest, he preferred it that way. Even when he wore a mask of superiority and confidence, he couldn’t quite hide how he felt. Blocking out the emotions threatening to engulf him was never a skill he mastered. Sirius, on the other hand, was the perfect heir—he had everything and didn’t even realize it.
Sure, in their parent’s eyes, he was a failure, but that was by his own choice, unlike Regulus. Sirius was charming, always knowing how to bring someone out of their shell. He was outgoing and naturally smart, allowing him to excel in his classes without needing to pick up a book. He was everything Regulus wasn’t, everything he would never be.
He could have been the perfect heir.
He had always been so much bigger than Regulus and the family they found in each other. So when it was time for Sirius to go to Hogwarts Regulus couldn’t help but hope he would be placed in Slytherin. It was a cruel thought, he could admit that. Sirius would have been miserable in the snake pit, with only Regulus as company yet again.
But Regulus knew it was only a matter of time until he lost him for good, so he hoped against all odds he would get a few more years with his brother. He wanted to hold onto the time they had left together for as long as possible, in whatever form that took.
But, he knew that trying to hold them together would make it all the harder to let him go when the time came, so as much as it pained him he didn’t.
He let them drift apart.
When Sirius inevitably joined the Lions, he put on a false smile, trying to accept it and be happy for his brother. He promised that nothing would change between them, no matter what. They would stay close forever; after all, they were brothers, and nothing could take that away from them.
Regulus had been foolish enough to hope that, against all odds, Sirius was being truthful. He was not. It started slowly—the days between letters grew longer and longer, each letter becoming more focused on his school friends.
He would never admit it, even to himself, but he was grateful that Sirius had found a family in Gryffindor, even if he could not be part of that family. James provided Sirius with the one thing Regulus never could: a brother.
When the letters finally stopped, he didn’t bother sending his own. He knew he wouldn’t get a response. Only one of them could ever escape, and Regulus wasn’t naive enough to believe it could have been him. One of them had to play the part of the Black Heir, and Regulus grew into the part perfectly. He had to; otherwise, all he had given up would have been for nothing.
He had devoted his entire life to ensuring his brother's escape, and in time, he would give his death. Not just for Sirius, but for the world in the hope he would play even a small part in saving it. He always knew he would die by his own choices, by his own hands, in a sense. It was a comfort of sorts knowing he had at least some semblance of control.
Maybe that’s why he had started seeing James—one last thing for himself.
His brother had seen him as too much of a coward to get out. Regulus was many things, but a coward wasn’t one of them. That’s the thing about being brave, you have to do the right thing even when no one is watching.
The Sorting Hat had wanted to place him in Gryffindor after all. It never could have happened, but at least he found some comfort in knowing he could have been good—better than the family he was born into—even if no one else could ever know. In another lifetime, Regulus could have gone to Gryffindor alongside Sirius. He could have been the brother to Sirius that Sirius was to him.
His plan had been going smoothly until his fourth year when Sirius messed it up. He had a falling out with his friends and returned to their house, the very house he had escaped from the previous summer.
Best of all, he managed to shift the blame for his actions onto Regulus. He knew that Sirius needed someone to blame so he wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving him behind and cutting him out of his life the first time, and when it inevitably happened again. That was fine; Regulus was more accustomed to the Cruciatus Curse than he had been the first time around.
But for Merlin’s sake, who did Sirius think had dragged him out of that house and flooed him to the Potters the first time? Who did he believe covered for him only to face punishment when their parents noticed he was missing? Regulus couldn’t tell if Sirius was being deliberately obtuse or if he was just that self-centered. Honestly, with Sirius, it was a toss-up.
Regulus had been furious when Sirius returned; he had every right to be. He had endured beatings and curses, and seeing Sirius return less than a year later was infuriating. It was now up to him to rescue Sirius from that house for the second time.
Regulus set aside his emotions; there was no room for weakness in the House of Black. He spoke to Sirius as if no time had passed and laughed as if they were a happy family, all the while knowing he was on the verge of losing his brother for the third time.
Regulus convinced him to return to the Potters and apologize to Lupin, begging for his forgiveness if that’s what it took. Back to James Potter—his perfect life and perfect family. James was like the sun, while Regulus was just another star, always present but never close enough to touch or be noticed—a star destined to implode.
Part of him had hoped that this time Sirius would ask him to leave with him, just like they had talked about when they were children. Although he wouldn’t have been able to go, it would at least have shown that Sirius cared.
But Sirius hadn’t even said goodbye.
___
Regulus didn’t know when his situation with James had started. He kept telling himself it was a way for him to get back at Sirius for leaving him yet again, for forgetting about him like he meant nothing. As if he was nothing.
But for once he had done something without his brother in mind, as much as it pained him to admit it, James was for him and him alone. He knew they could never work out, so he shouldn’t have gotten attached. Half the time, he still couldn't believe James could pick him out of a crowd, let alone date him.
It hadn’t started out as anything, really it hadn’t.
James had always been so sure of himself—so undeniably James. He knew James did things just to annoy him, always testing, poking, and prodding to see how far he could go. He’d smile at Regulus when they passed each other in the corridor. Worse, he would say hello, no matter who was around to hear. It was unbearable.
The worst part was Regulus let him. Fuck, why did he allow it? Maybe it was because, as much as it pained him, he had always liked James—not just in a way that wanted to be friends. He couldn’t bear the thought of just being James’s friend. Perhaps it was the knowledge that nothing would ever come of it. What was the harm in fancying someone he knew would never feel the same way?
So Regulus allowed James to smile at him and greet him in the halls, and in return, he glared and threatened him. It wasn’t because he had to, but because he wanted to. Each time he hurled an insult at James, all he received in return was another smile. Not a smug grin or one of annoyance, but a knowing smile, as if James enjoyed being threatened and wasn’t bothered by it in the slightest. Regulus hated it. He despised how James seemed to let him get away with it as if he looked forward to the day Regulus would curse him next.
James was everywhere. Regulus didn’t know how, but wherever he went, James was never far behind. It was maddening. He was impossible to ignore and even harder to forget. Perhaps it was inevitable that they would end up becoming friends.
___
It was in his fifth year, the night before Regulus had an important Transfiguration essay due, and he still hadn’t finished it. This was unlike him—he was at the top of his year and never left his work until the last minute. But after returning from the winter holidays, he had been spiraling. Exhausted and having not slept properly in weeks, he was in too much pain to think clearly.
He knew it was his fault; he couldn’t blame his parents for how they punished him for his mistakes. He could feel the gashes on his back rubbing against the bandages he had wrapped around his abdomen, the tremors remaining from Crucio, and the slight shake in his hand he was unable to correct. He had refused to let Barty or Evan heal him until he finished his holiday coursework. Regulus knew that once they saw him, they wouldn’t let him leave bed, let alone go to the library.
He quickly regretted his decision as he began feeling increasingly lightheaded. It could have been the blood loss or perhaps his breathing, which he couldn’t seem to slow down. Either way, he needed to pull himself together and get back to work. There was a reason he was the best, and it wasn’t because he took a night off.
As he slowly made his way through the paper, he felt his eyes growing heavy. He knew he wouldn’t finish, but he had no choice but to complete the work; he had transfiguration the next morning. But what harm could there be in closing his eyes for just a minute before getting back to it?
Regulus slowly opened his eyes, confused about his surroundings. As he shifted, he felt the crinkle of a book beneath his cheek. Damn, he had fallen asleep. He felt like a failure; this was it, he would no longer be at the top of his class, and his parents would punish him for it. Exhaustion weighed heavily on him. Glancing at the clock, he realized it was nearly eight, and he hurriedly gathered his belongings, hoping he wouldn't be late for Transfiguration.
He quickly got up, packing his books and his essay when he noticed it. The paper he was currently holding was not his half-finished, ink-splattered mess; it was a complete, seemingly perfect paper.
How was this possible? He read through the paper, and it was impressive—better than anything he could have written, and he knew he was a capable writer. He didn’t have time to question his unexpected luck; he was about to rush out of the library when he noticed a scrap of paper left on his table.
Reg,
I noticed you looked tired, and I know how strict McGonagall can be about essays. Transfiguration is my best subject, and she had us write the same paper last year, so it was really no trouble for me! Don’t worry, I didn’t use the same content from my paper either, so she will never know it wasn’t you who wrote this. I hope you were able to get a good night's sleep!
- James :)
Fuck. James wrote this paper for him; even worse, he had done it for no reason, and it was good. Just because that was the type of person he was, doing things for people out of the kindness of his heart expecting nothing in return.
Regulus got an O on the paper.
After that, he began studying with James more frequently. Surprisingly, James wasn’t that bad to be around. Ultimately, it was for Regulus’s own benefit that James continued to help him with transfiguration. The late nights they spent in the astronomy tower or secret passageways were dedicated solely to Regulus’s studies.
But it would be rude for him to continue to ignore James after he helped him. Besides it’s not like they could just study in silence for hours. So he saw no problem with occasionally talking to James, even if it was not only during their study sessions but also throughout the day. There was no harm in being half-decent to James.
Those nights in the Astronomy Tower... Regulus thought he was pushing James, trying to get under his skin, but he wasn’t succeeding. James just sat there, grinning, as if he understood exactly what Regulus was trying to do. Perhaps he did. Maybe James realized that Regulus was trying to hurt him, trying to provoke him into finally losing his façade of kindness. Regulus wanted James to show his true feelings, knowing that he would leave sooner or later.
But he never flinched; he just smiled every time, as if he were waiting for Regulus to figure something out. However, he couldn’t. No matter how many nights he spent trying, he could never understand James.
How did they get from that to this?
Regulus could still remember the feeling of James's lips on his. It wasn't planned; he hadn't prepared for it. One moment, he was standing there, anticipating the usual banter, and the next, James was leaning forward and kissing him. What did he do? He froze. His mind went blank, but his body didn't wait for permission. Regulus kissed James back.
He shouldn’t have done it. He should have stopped, should have pulled away. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. He could feel James smiling against his lips, as if he knew exactly what was happening inside of Regulus’s head, as if he understood that Regulus was already caving, already too far gone to do anything but kiss him harder.
It wasn’t a soft kiss, nor was it tender or gentle. It was all teeth and pressure, raw and forceful. It was everything.
It felt as if he had been waiting for this moment for a long time as if everything they had experienced together—the arguments, the teasing, the long nights spent under the stars—had led up to this one thing. When he kissed him back, he didn’t want to stop. Regulus didn’t care that he probably shouldn't be doing this or that it would complicate everything. It felt too right, too... real.
He couldn’t bring himself to care that they might get caught or that he really shouldn’t be kissing the boy who had ruined his life. But the truth was, just as much as James had ruined him, he had also saved him. How was Regulus supposed to say no to that?
___
Regulus stood alone in the Gryffindor common room, his arms folded tightly across his chest, wondering what awful thing he must have done to deserve the misfortune of ending up here.
The flames in the hearth crackled weakly, casting long, flickering shadows across the room. It was far too warm, unlike the Slytherin common room, which had a persistent chill no matter the month. Neither felt right, and he longed for the opposite of whichever he was in.
Regulus didn’t need to check the clock to know that James was late. He had been increasingly late, each time giving Regulus the same half-hearted excuses: “I had to make sure no one saw me,” “I wasn’t sure if it was safe,” or the one that pissed Regulus off the most, “It’s just better this way.”
He had gone through the trouble of sneaking through the castle in the dead of night once again, all so he could meet James somewhere much easier for him. All James had to do was walk down a staircase, for Merlin’s sake, but he couldn’t even be bothered to do that. Regulus had accepted James's excuses for far too long, but tonight, he wasn’t in the mood for whatever bullshit answer James would come up with.
He had spent too long waiting—waiting for James to notice him, to talk to him, to finally understand. To see that their relationship couldn’t remain in the shadows forever. Regulus had been patient, understanding even. How could he not be? He was all too familiar with the fear and shame of being who you truly are.
He had lived that way for fifteen years for Merlin's sake. The problem was that he was foolish enough to think that after spending a year sneaking around, James would at least be ready to have a straightforward conversation about what he wanted. But no, that would have been too easy! He was the one who made the first move, yet apparently, that was all he could do.
Regulus had tried to convince himself that things would get better; that James’s hesitation was just a temporary phase. But now? Now he was tired. Tired of hiding. Tired of always feeling like he was someone James needed to sneak around for, someone to be tucked away when the world came calling. He had finally made it out of his house, he was staying with the Rosiers, and nothing was stopping him from showing the world who he truly was.
Besides James.
He wasn’t naive enough to believe that moving out of his house would be enough to escape his family, but he pushed the thought to the back of his mind. He still had a little over a year until he had to confront reality—a year until he would be gone, one way or another.
The door creaked open, and Regulus didn’t even need to look up. He already knew it was him. A faint sense of warmth spread through his chest, even as the anger coiled tighter in his gut. James. Always James. His James.
“You’re late,” Regulus said sharply, his voice colder than he intended. He couldn’t bring himself to care. Let James know he was upset. Let him feel it. Let him experience even an ounce of the hurt that he caused Regulus.
James stopped in his tracks; his usual grin faltered when he saw Regulus’s stiff posture. “Sorry, I—” he started, but Regulus wasn’t in the mood for apologies. Not anymore.
“Sorry?” Regulus’s voice broke the silence. “I’m tired of your excuses, James. You’re always sorry, but nothing ever changes. You just keep doing this.” He gestured between them with a quick flick of his wrist, the words bubbling up like acid in his throat. “You’re keeping me a secret. Hiding me like I’m something to be ashamed of. That’s it, isn’t it? You’re ashamed of me. Having a Black as a best friend is fine, apparently, but dating one? That’s out of the question for the perfect Potter heir.”
James’s face fell, and he ran a hand nervously through his hair. “Reg, it’s not like that—”
“But it is like that,” Regulus shot back, stepping closer, his heart pounding faster than he wanted it to. “You’re scared, James. You’re scared of what this means. Scared of what we are, and I get it; I am too. You act like you want me, but you don’t. Not really. Not if it means facing the consequences. You like the idea of me, but you don’t really like me.”
James opened his mouth to speak, but Regulus didn’t give him the chance. If things were ending between them, he wanted at the very least to say his piece.
“No. I’m done with this. I’m done with being the dirty secret you hide away when it’s convenient. I’m done with being something you only bring out when no one’s looking.” Regulus’s voice cracked slightly at the last word, and he hated himself for it. He didn’t want to show vulnerability, but the anger and hurt inside him couldn’t be contained any longer.
“I’m not asking for the world, James,” Regulus continued his voice barely above a whisper now. “I’m not asking for you to get down on one knee or profess your love in the middle of the Great Hall. All I want is for you to treat me like I mean something to you. Like I’m worth standing up for.”
James’s eyes softened, but Regulus couldn’t bear to look at them. He knew that if he did, he’d give in to whatever James wanted. Not now. Not when everything inside him was screaming that he was wasting the time he had left.
“I can’t do this anymore,” he said, his voice shaking, though he tried to keep it steady. “I won’t. I deserve more than this. I’m not the same person I was a year ago—you are. I refuse to sit around and wait for you to decide that I’m worth telling the world about, or to feel like I’ll never measure up, so I have to make that decision for you. Goodbye, James.”
Just like it was over, the boy he had hated since he was eleven was gone— the boy he had loved. A part of him had truly believed that they would last; it was a childish hope. They could never work, but oh, how he hoped. He wasn’t Sirius; he wasn’t a Gryffindor, and for the first time, he found himself glad about that.
James’s face twisted in pain, but Regulus had already turned away before the words could leave his lips. He didn’t want to hear them. Not anymore. He knew what James would say, knew how it would make him feel, knew how he would give James one last chance. We can’t be open right now. It’s too dangerous. It’s not safe. But Regulus didn’t want safety anymore. He wanted something real.
“I’m sorry,” James’s voice came from behind him, barely audible, but it stopped Regulus in his tracks. For a moment, everything within him screamed to turn around, to forgive James for all the broken promises and the things left unsaid.
But he didn’t. Regulus took one last look at the door before stepping through it, feeling the cold of the hallway rush in to meet him, and once again, he was alone.
Regulus didn’t return to his dorm that night. He couldn’t. The weight of everything still clung to him, suffocating him and threatening to choke him if he slowed down long enough to let the memories creep back in. His mind replayed that last moment with James—those foolish words and that hollow apology that meant nothing. It wasn’t enough. It had never been enough.
He didn’t know how long he had been walking the halls, but by the time he found himself outside the Slytherin common room, his heart was still pounding in his chest. His footsteps echoed in the quiet, each step making him feel more and more as if he were falling apart.