Formalities
James drummed his fingers on the leather seat of his coach, his body rocking with the horses’ movement on the dirt road. Remus sat across from him, his head resting on the wall beside him. He’d fallen asleep nearly an hour ago, his shaggy brown hair mussed from his shifting. His knees were bent in a way that must’ve been uncomfortable, in attempts to make his absurdly long legs fit properly in the coach. James couldn’t imagine falling asleep like that, but he’d once seen Remus fall asleep while actively riding a horse, so he wasn’t surprised. Next to him sat Sirius, who was far from asleep. He was a bundle of nervous energy, his jittering and stimming serving to make James all the more nervous. Sirius’ leg was bouncing and he was humming a tune James didn’t recognize, picking at the seat between him and Remus. He stared out the window, eyes flitting about to catch every detail, occasionally pointing things that he recognised out to James as they got closer to his childhood home. Beside James sat Lily, who was somehow reading a book despite the jostling movements of the coach. Her flaming red hair nearly glowed in the sunlight that filtered through the window, her green eyes fixed on the page in front of her. She chewed on her lip as she read, a habit she’d had for nearly as long as he'd known her. In the light of the carriage she looked like the subject of an expensive painting, impossibly ethereal considering she was awoken spontaneously before dawn and made to pack as quick as possible, before being shoved in a carriage for two days.
James had been in love with her, once. She was his handmaiden, like Remus was Sirius’. It wasn’t typical to have a handmaid of a different gender, but the Potter’s were anything but typical. Her mum had been a servant in their palace for years, so Lily and her younger sister Petunia had grown up with James. She’d become his friend long before either of them understood the social classes that divided them or the fact that most would consider their bond improper. It was only natural that when his parents had discussed finding him a valet, he had insisted it was her. They’d had concerns about its appropriateness as they got older, but James was prepared for that. He didn’t need someone to help him get dressed anyways, he’d argued, he was more than capable of doing it himself. And wouldn’t they prefer to keep Lily and her family close? His parents had never been able to refuse him, so Lily was made his handmaid.
He’d fallen in love with her pretty much the moment he was capable of such a thing. He wasn’t sure when his love for her had shifted to something romantic, he just knew it had. He figured it was the natural course of things. Everyone around them had said it would happen for years. And how could they expect anything less? Lily had always been gorgeous, with her red curls and green eyes, and James was far from the only boy to have a crush on her. And she was just his type, wasn’t she? Smart, driven, and utterly unimpressed with his antics. Though he supposed it was possible it was less that she was his type and more she was the cause of his type. He wasn’t sure it mattered either way.
It had taken nearly a year of convincing, of combating her points about classes and power dynamics (he’d never really been her boss, had he? She knew as well as he did that she had no respect for his title), and of proving to her that he was someone worth taking that risk for, but eventually he succeeded. James had courted her for years, starting when they were fourteen, and they’d been together for so long that they’d nearly been engaged. They were a bit young for marriage, but they were in love.
Until one day, when they were on the edge of seventeen and marriage was beginning to look like a real thing rather than something they just talked about, Lily sat him down to talk. Those words had made him nervous, even then. They talked all the time, what was so important about this one she had to prepare him for it? She’d asked him if he really loved her. Of course, had been his immediate response. He loved her a lot. Then she’d asked him something he’d never considered. She asked if he loved her romantically, or if he loved her the same way he loved Sirius. That had been an eye opener. He’d taken his time to think about it. Tried to figure out the difference between their dates and his hangouts with Sirius. Would he kiss her? Sure, but he’d kiss Sirius too. Hell, he’d kiss Remus. But go on a date with him? With her? The fact that he felt the same about the idea for each of them was enough to prove her right. At some point he’d stopped being in love with her, and started loving her like a friend. He’d felt rather bad about it. How obvious had it been if she’d had to sit him down and ask about it? He didn’t want to hurt her, he never had. He apologized, but she told him not to. She felt the same way, which stung less than he thought it would. She said they’d likely ended up together because everyone thought they should, not because they were meant to. It made sense to him. People had been talking about them courting before he’d even really understood what it meant. After that, they’d broken their courtship and remained friends. James reckoned it was better that way.
At least, he usually did. Now he wished they’d been married all those years ago. Then he wouldn’t be in this situation. With every step the horses took he was brought closer and closer to Black Manor, and to the consequences of his own stupidity. How many people could say they’d agreed to marry their best mate's little brother by accident? He must’ve been the first. Surely no one else in written history had managed to muck up that badly? He wished he could just tell Sirius it was an accident and back out of the whole ordeal. They could turn the carriage around and go home. No harm no foul. He’d just have to deal with his mum, and help Sirius find an actual match. Life would be good again.
But he couldn’t. It didn’t matter that it was an accident, he’d made a promise to Sirius, and he had to uphold it. He was a man of his word if nothing else.
James tried to convince himself it wasn’t as bad as he feared. Maybe it was for the best? His parents would stop asking him about marriage, which would be a relief. He didn’t care about getting married, so it couldn’t hurt to just get it out of the way. Sirius wouldn’t have to worry about Regulus all the time, and he might even be able to rekindle his relationship with him. James knew he’d missed him terribly. And it’d be great for Regulus, wouldn’t it? He’d get out of his abusive home, and avoid marrying a creep. It wasn’t like they were really getting married after all. It was just a paper, really. Nothing more than a political arrangement. He wouldn’t even have to spend all that much time with Regulus, which he imagined they would both prefer. They’d just have to arrange galas and whatnot. It would be nice to have someone to help him manage duties like that, the things he found tedious and pointless. It would benefit all of them.
That didn’t stop his stomach from twisting as they pulled through the gates of Black Manor. All the platitudes he’d thought up disappeared as the tall spires of the shadowy manor came into view. Sirius nudged Remus awake gently, with far more care than he ever provided when waking James up, the prat. Of course Remus got gentle touches and murmurs of Rem, we’re here, when James would have gotten an elbow to the ribs and violently shaken. Asshole.
Lily slid her bookmark into place and closed her book, looking at James. Everyone followed her lead, looking to James to take charge as they always did. Right. He took a deep breath and opened the door to the carriage. Lily stopped him before he could climb out with a hand on his shoulder. She reached up and adjusted the crown that he’d honestly forgotten he was wearing, straightening it with practiced ease.
“Everything will be alright,” She said softly, just for the two of them. She smiled reassuringly, and he again wished he was in love with her. How could it be that someone so perfect for him existed and he felt nothing towards her? How was that Fate's design? He took comfort in the knowledge that in another universe they were likely married. They’d have kids, with his unruly hair and her eyes. And honestly, he was just glad that he had her in this life in the way he did. As one of his closest friends.
James wasn’t sure he would’ve managed to climb out of the carriage had habit not taken over, leading him to reach out a hand to help Lily, and Sirius, down. It would be alright. All he had to do was have lunch with two of the people he hated most in the world and ask to marry their son he barely knew. Easy. He’d fought in a bloody war for Fate’s sake, he could handle a stuffy lunch.
He glanced around the land as he walked to the ornate front door. It was the same as he remembered it. Gloomy, cold, and ridiculously fancy. Large bushes were shaped to perfection, surrounding marble statues of dead relatives and people James didn’t care to recognise. The building towered over him, and he half expected lightning to strike over it dramatically.
The doorman bowed as he approached, and he flinched as trumpets sounded to signal his arrival. Right. These people really cared about the formalities. He straightened his waistcoat, resisting the urge to fidget. He did his best to fall into his role as crown prince, something he usually had a much easier time with. Sirius joined him on the stairs as the huge darkwood door opened. Remus and Lily split from the group, carrying both their own things and James and Sirius’ inside through the servant’s entrance. His heart panged. He would really appreciate either of their level headedness right about now. He and Sirius were not known for their patience and rationality.
“Lighten up mate, you look like you’re headed for the trenches,” Sirius murmured, taking the steps two at a time beside him. James did his best to fix his expression. The last thing he wanted was to offend Walburga or Orion before he even had the chance to do what he was there to do.
“I’ve been to the trenches, and quite frankly I’d much prefer them to this,” James shot back, twisting his family ring with his thumb. The ring he’d brought for Regulus sat heavy in his pocket, its velvet box seemingly weighed a thousand pounds, a constant reminder of his fate. It had felt a bit silly, picking out a ring for a man he’d never met, but his Mum had insisted on it. He was more nervous about the ring than he’d expected. What if Regulus didn’t like it? Sirius had advised him, but what if his preferences had changed since he’d seen him last? And what if he thought James was strange for buying him a ring that wasn’t a wedding band? He’d pressed forward anyways. His mum had given him an order, and he was well aware that she knew better than him.
His parents had been more than a bit shocked when he’d woken them up in the middle of the night to explain he had to leave right that instant to propose to a man he didn’t know. It had been an interesting conversation to say the least. He doubted they really believed it was because he truly wanted it, no matter how hard he’d tried to convince them, but there wasn’t much they could do to stop it. They had made their stance on him marrying for love very clear for his entire life, now they would let him make the choice for himself. His mum’s one requirement was that they stop somewhere to get the poor boy a ring.
“He has no choice in the matter, James. The least you can do is show him some kindness,” She’d said, her voice tired and sympathetic. She was right, he knew it. But it still felt strange. “You are about to change his life forever, even if it’s for the better. Give him some grace, love. He may take some time to come round.” She advised. There was something unfamiliar in her eyes, an almost wistful look. It was gone quickly though, because she smiled softly and sent him off with a kiss on the forehead.
“Oh sod off,” Sirius laughed beside him. He’d forgone trying to be quiet, opting instead for his usual loudness. It was for show, James knew it. He was terrified to be back home. It was clear to James by the way his hands were flitting about. He was always moving, anxious or not, but it always got a bit more frantic when he was anxious. He hated coming to this place, and hated seeing his parents even more. And he hadn’t had to do either in nearly a decade. But he was putting on a brave face, he always did. James assumed a part of it was to ease James’ nerves as well as his own.
“Does my hair look alright?” James asked, shoving a piece of it out of his eyes. His unruly brown curls were a lost cause under good circumstances, and he could only imagine how disastrous they looked after a two day coach ride. Even with the gold crown Sirius had insisted he wore (one of the more casual ones he owned, thank Fate), and Lily’s efforts, he knew his hair must look disheveled. He could only hope the rest of him didn’t look quite so disastrous.
“Hmm,” Sirius stopped to analyze him, grey eyes no doubt noticing every flaw in his appearance, everything that needed to be improved. He’d been trained to do nothing less, after all. He clearly wanted to make a joke, but stopped himself for James’ sake. “You look great,” He said, voice soft. He ran a hand through James’ hair and straightened his crown, trailing his fingers over the emblem that sat at the center. A reminder of home. His real home.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He said after a pause. He busied his hands with fixing flaws in James’ stuffy formal wear that James couldn’t even see. “It's…a lot. I know it is. You have already done more than enough for me, Prongs, and if you want to back out of this…” He took a deep breath, “I wouldn’t blame you,” He finished, brushing his hair behind his ear.
James thought about it, really thought about it. He could turn around and go home right now. Forget about this whole situation and go back to dodging every suitor who attempted to court him. He could go back to normal. But…Regulus didn’t have that chance. He had no choice in getting married. It didn’t matter if it was to James or someone else, he would be married. As much as James had disliked him when they were kids, this might’ve been his only chance to escape a terrible fate. As dramatic as he’d complained Sirius was being about the whole thing, he knew he wasn’t wrong. His parents wouldn't be picky about who he married. They clearly had no issue with him being beaten, or worse. Who knew what kind of creep he’d be married to? Regulus didn’t have the option to back out. No one was pulling him aside now and giving him this talk. And, as stupid as it was, James couldn’t help but want to help him. If he could save someone from a life of hurt, shouldn’t he? Especially when he wasn’t really costing himself anything. He didn’t care about marriage, or love, or any of that. He took a deep breath.
“Yeah right. When have I ever backed out of a challenge?” James said, doing his best to grin at Sirius, “C’mon Pads. Let’s go talk to your parents.”
-
Regulus sat at the vanity in his room. He wasn’t particularly comfortable, considering Barty’s legs were pressed against either side of his thighs, trapping him in the small wooden chair. He was forcefully holding Regulus’ chin, forcing him to tilt his head back as he applied the black liner to his eyes. It’d been a fight getting Regulus to agree in the first place, and he likely didn’t want him to ruin his efforts by squirming. Somewhere behind him, he could hear Pandora and Evan discussing what color would best bring out his eyes. Dreadful. If it were up to Regulus, he would be wearing all black, optimally something with lots of lace and such. This lunch marked the end of his life, he might as well be prepared and dress for his funeral. His friends had ignored that suggestion, as they had with the rest of his suggestions (such as jumping out of his bedroom window, just to check if gravity was still functioning.)
“Alright Reg!” Came Pandora’s chipper voice from somewhere over his right shoulder. “We’ve narrowed it down to two options. We figured you should have the final say.” Regulus could hear the smile in her voice. His friends had all been over the moon since he’d told them about Potter’s impending proposal. He understood it for the most part, as much as he tried not to. They’d all been worried for months about him being shipped off to live with some old creep, and Potter was allegedly far from it. He just wished they’d be a little empathetic of the fact that he was going to be shipped off to live with a guy he had despised his entire childhood. He’d almost prefer the creep.
Barty shimmed out of the chair, nearly breaking both of their skulls to do so, before spinning it with a flourish so Regulus could evaluate the outfit choices. He had to admit, only to himself of course, under different circumstances he might’ve been excited about wearing either choice. They must’ve been new clothes, likely from one of a myriad of fittings he’d attended in the last few weeks, because he didn’t recognize them. His parents had been slowly buying him a whole new wardrobe since they’d told him they were finding him a suitor. Part of him wanted to believe it was an attempt at a silent apology, but he knew it was far more likely to be to make him look better during any meetings with potential matches.
Pandora was holding a deep blue double breasted tuxedo coat, paired with a flowy white undershirt, a vest, and trousers of the same color. The detailing was all bronze, intricate patterns covering the coat and vest. It would contrast against his pale skin nicely, making his dark hair and green eyes stand out more than they usually did. He’d likely wear it with his knee-high black formal boots, which would make him a few inches taller at the least. It was a nice outfit, something he’d wear to attend one of the picnics Narcissa had taken to holding since getting married. Or, in another life, to tour the gardens in Conch he’d heard tales of in one of Sirius’ earliest letters.
Evan was holding a more casual velvet cutaway tailcoat, in an emerald green. The detailing on both the coat and its matching green vest was silver, the undershirt black, and the trousers charcoal grey. It was the colors of his kingdom, and it would be so very stereotypical of him to wear them. Nauseatingly so. It would be more comfortable though, and the emerald green would make his grey-green eyes more noticeably green. And, from the looks of it, it would hug the natural curves of his body nicely, emphasizing his shapely waist. If his parents wanted him to show off for his suitor, that was the option they’d want him to go with. He was to display what he had, wasn’t he?
Regulus sighed, deep and discontented, before waving his hand towards the green outfit. He would do what his parents would want from him, as per usual. A part of him wished he was donning the outfit for a ball, showing off and playfully flirting with gentlemen he knew from his youth. He hadn’t been to a ball in years now though, and he would never be allowed to flirt so publicly. It was another dream for that fantasy world in which he was touring gardens and visiting libraries.
He shooed his friends out of his room to allow him to get ready, aside from Pandora of course. He remembered a time he’d felt embarrassed to be undressed in front of her, but that was long ago. Now it was automatic, the two moving together to figure out the pulls and buttons. She allowed him his silence for a few minutes as they worked to put on the ridiculously complicated clothes (the vest had a corseted back, which was a whole ordeal in of itself,) but he could practically feel her buzzing with questions. Fates she was nosey. He loved her for it.
“Go on then,” He said, as she pulled the laces of the corset vest snug around his body, emphasising the smooth curves of his body. She grinned at him in his massive mirror but didn’t respond. Instead she just prompted him to spin, to admire himself in the mirror. He looked fantastic, as much as it pained him. He was tempted to forgo the tailcoat altogether. It would just serve to cover the curve of his ass and the thickness of his thighs, which the perfectly tailored trousers were doing wonders to show off. If he were to live the rest of his life as a prize to be shown off, he may as well do so properly. The outfit without the coat made him feel like something to be desired, to be sought after. He looked good, and he knew it. It wouldn’t be proper to show up to lunch like that though, and Fate knew his parents valued formality over anything else.
“Are you nervous?” Pandora finally asked, running her hands through his hair. She was practically pressed against his chest, and if Regulus were any other man he may have been tempted to kiss her. She was beautiful, he knew that. A stunner even in her simple servants clothes. Dark skin with almost startling light eyes, a similar shade to Regulus’ own, and white braids pulled into a half up hairstyle with shimmering charms laying throughout. Regulus wasn’t any other man, though, so he was just annoyed that she was messing his hair up.
“Far from it,” He lied easily, swatting at her hands. “I should gel my hair back. It’s neater that way,” He said, but made no move to do so. He trusted Pandora to make the right decisions regarding his fashion, and she’d prefer to do it herself anyways. He’d feel bad about her doing everything herself if she didn’t get annoyed when he tried to do it himself. Apparently there was a wrong way to do everything, even putting on nightclothes.
“Mmm, no,” She shook her head, looking at him almost pityingly, “You look sexier with it messy.” She grinned again when he scowled at her. He didn’t touch his hair as instructed, but calling anything about him looking like a mess ‘sexy’ was inaccurate. He looked best when he was neat and presentable. It reflected better on his family. He pulled his coat on, letting Pandora handle the buttons after his fingers fumbled on his first few attempts. He was grateful that she chose to ignore his shaking hands rather than point it out, as Barty might’ve.
“I heard he’s hot,” Pandora said, breaking the silence yet again. Regulus just raised an eyebrow at her, so she continued, “Potter, I mean. A little birdie told me he grew up to be quite the looker,” She giggled. Regulus had no doubt she had actually heard that. Servants were known to gossip, and Pandora had reliable sources. It was no shock to him that she had information on his soon to be fiancé, even such a short time since he’d received word of his brother's intentions.
“His appearance is the least of my concern, Dora.” He sighed. He gave himself another once over in the mirror and deemed himself good enough. The eyeliner Barty had forced him to wear was a good touch, even if he’d never admit it. He was annoyed at himself for caring so much about his appearance for this lunch. He didn’t care about whether or not Potter found him attractive. And he didn’t care whether or not Potter was attractive!
“Yeah, but it helps, doesn’t it?” She bumped their shoulders and added, “I heard he’s nice, too. Really nice, not the usual fake-diplomat-who-goes-home-to-beat-his-servants-nice.” She smiled at him in the mirror. He felt some of the tension melt from his body. He had assumed Potter was probably kind. Sirius hung out with him, for whatever reason. That didn’t mean he’d make a good husband. There was a difference in how most men treated their spouse and how they treated everyone else. Especially people in Regulus’ shoes. Potter was more than allowed to do whatever he pleased to Regulus. He was expected to, even. He could be the nicest man in the world, and there was still a chance he’d beat him or do Fate knows what else to him. Regulus knew that he and his family would owe him for the rest of his life. Marrying him was practically a liability, and would boost his station incredibly. He was doing Regulus’ family a great favor, and it was his duty to repay it in whatever way Potter wanted. Most men wouldn’t pass that up.
“Right. I suppose I’m ready?” Regulus offered her a halfhearted smile. Pandora eyed him for a moment, a mix of excited, proud, and worried. He expected her to say something else, to reassure him or question him again on his feelings about the matter, but she didn’t. Instead she crossed the room to open the door. When she did so, Barty quite literally fell through. He must’ve been leaning on the door attempting to eavesdrop. “Hello, Crouch. Hear anything interesting?” Regulus raised an eyebrow, looking down at Barty unimpressed. He crossed the room to assist him regardless.
“Unfortunately, no. Nothing I haven’t heard before,” Barty sighed melodramatically. He grinned when Regulus reached down to help him up. “Oh his lordship is so kind to the lowly peasants,” He said, doing an odd voice Regulus assumed was an impression of an old man. Instead of answering, he just dropped Barty back onto his back. Based on the thud and responding swear, it was not a pleasant feeling. Good.
“You look great, Reg,” Evan said from the door, smiling at him. Evan had changed into his own formal wear, not nearly as over the top as Regulus’, but formal nonetheless. At least he would have him and Barty at the lunch with him. His parents were so kind as to allow them there to ‘ease his nerves.’ As if hanging out with Barty had ever had that effect on him. Barty was dressed nicely too, as nice as he ever was at least. Regulus counted himself lucky he had opted to button his shirt all the way.
“Are you ready to go?” Evan asked, pulling Barty up from the floor against his will. Regulus thought about it, really thought about it. Of course he wasn’t. In what universe could he possibly be ready for this? He would much prefer to stay in his room and never come out. Or test his window idea, at the very least. He didn’t want to marry anyone, much less James Potter. But since when did he have a choice? What was the point of even asking if he was ready? His parents certainly hadn’t bothered.
The sound of trumpets rang through the Manor, signaling the arrival of Regulus’ doom, and he nodded at his friends. He was ready as he’d ever be.
“Let’s get this over with,” He muttered, allowing his carefully crafted mask to slip back over his features. He just had to get through this lunch. How hard could it be to force himself to eat while he watched his father prepare to sell him off like cattle? Forgive me, what were you saying about forcing Regulus to abandon everything he’s ever known? Sounds lovely. Pass the gravy.
At least he wouldn’t hear the actual negotiation over his dowry. He didn’t even want to know how much his father would be paying to get rid of him. That discussion would be had in his father’s office, a place he’d never been allowed. Sirius was the one who was forced to sit through stuffy meetings, and got to learn the inner workings of politics and how to run things. Regulus was taught about homemaking and the like with his lovely cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa. Their parents had shipped them off to live with Regulus’ end of the family when they were still children, so his mother could teach them how to properly be good little spouses to increase their families’ social standing. She was known for her successes in that field. They’d sent Andromeda, their older sister, along too, but as the heir she was allowed to sit in on meeting with Sirius and learn how the world worked. She’d be head of her own household one day, after all. And she was, now, and was apparently rather good at it. Not that the family still talked to her, after she went against their wishes and married for love. How quaint.
Regulus, Barty, and Evan reached the edge of the main staircase long before he was ready. Just a few more steps and he’d be trapped in that room, forced to eat and play nice as he watched his life slip away. The fact that it was a descent felt poetic, a metaphor for his life going downhill from here. His throat tightened. Barty grabbed at his hand, to offer comfort, but he batted him away. What was he thinking? He knew Regulus would never dare to show that sort of weakness, even here where they were still mostly concealed from the world. He gripped the banister instead, in an attempt to steel his nerves. Calm down, he scolded himself. Really, why was he being so childish? He should be thrilled to finally fulfill his purpose. And with a man in a higher station than he ever could’ve imagined. He’d nearly forced himself to swallow his fear when he heard it.
His brother’s obnoxious laugh. Sirius was here. He was home. For a moment, euphoria overtook anything else he was feeling. It had been years since the Manor’s halls had rang with the sound of his brother, always so loud no matter how many times their parents beat him for it. And Regulus had missed it dearly. Everything had felt so incomplete without it, the manor more lifeless than it’d ever been before. As much as it pained him, he had missed Sirius. He had missed him so much it hurt. He barely resisted the urge to sprint down the stairs and embrace him. Instead, he rolled his shoulders, forcing his face in a neutral expression, and prepared a dry remark about him still lacking any sort of decorum. The comment died in his throat, because Sirius finally crossed into his line of sight. He looked so…Happy. He was tanner than he’d been when he lived here, which made sense. Prongston was known for being sunny and warm. He seemed younger in a weird way, without the stress he’d always carried before. He was grinning, too, his gaze filled with so much affection it made Regulus’ heart squeeze. He followed Sirius’ gaze to the man that had come to ruin his life.
Potter.
He stood beside Sirius, a crooked, genuine smile splitting his face. He was a full head taller than Sirius, meaning he’d be a good few inches taller than Regulus. He didn’t look anything like the awkward, lanky teen Regulus remembered. He had filled out, likely due to the war, with broad shoulders and muscles that were well defined even through the padded velvet tuxedo coat he wore. He was draped in scarlet and gold, like the flag of his kingdom. Regulus wasn’t the only one who had opted for stereotype, then. Potters’ tan skin was so full of life, scars and freckles decorating it. Regulus couldn’t help but think of how sunny Prongston had been the only time he’d been there, and he could almost feel the warmth of it on his cold skin. Potter had the messiest hair Regulus had ever seen, untamed dark curls that fluffed out and looked soft. Regulus almost wanted to run his hands through it, just to see if it could get any messier. Potter waved one hand as he spoke, animated and nervous. He had on wire rimmed glasses, a sharp contrast to how regal the rest of his outfit looked. He wondered if his eyes were really that round and doe-like, or if the glasses were making them look bigger. Every inch of his outfit had clearly been carefully crafted, based on how well it fit him. It was tailored to every inch of his body, leaving no question as to how strong he must’ve been. And on top of his stupid, messy hair, sat a golden crown. It was simple enough, nearly plain aside from what he could only vaguely make out as his kingdom’s crest, but it left no doubt as to his station. All in all, despite his messiness and nervous energy, he exuded power. His posture was relaxed but confident, as if he had no doubt he would get what he wanted. There was a casual cockiness to him, that reeked of rich aristocrat. Had he not known him, Regulus would have assumed he was already a king.
Had he not known him, Regulus would have found him attractive.
“Are you alright mate?” Barty asked, nudging him. Regulus blinked hard. It felt like he’d been in a trance. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been standing there, just staring dumbly as his brother and his best mate stood in the foyer bickering.
“I…I can’t do this,” He choked out around the lump in his throat. Barty and Evan had one second to look at him like he’d gone mad before he was darting back down the hall to his bedroom, shutting the door hard behind him. Pandora looked up from the book she’d been reading, alarmed, but he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He slammed the bathroom door shut behind him, flicking the lock shut.
His breathing was heavy, as if he’d run a marathon rather than a few feet. He leaned against the door for a moment, trying to force the tears that threatened to spill down his face away. He couldn’t cry. He needed to get out there, his parents were expecting him. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror, all dressed up to show off so his parents could sell him off to the highest bidder like a fucking pig, and was overcome with the need to vomit. He barely made it to the toilet before he was emptying his stomach.
Regulus distantly heard someone knocking on the door frantically, but he couldn’t be bothered to answer it. He knew this was ridiculous. He should get over whatever this fit was and go downstairs. His fate was sealed whether he was there or not. His parents would likely murder him the second Potter left if he didn’t show. At least if he went he could try to gauge what he was getting into. He didn’t move though. He didn’t even know what was wrong with him. It was like seeing Potter had made it all real. Up until that point it was easy enough to brush it aside as something he had to do, as his duty, but now…now it was happening. He was going to be married.
Regulus retched again, his stomach lurching.
He would be missing lunch.
-
“Master Regulus is sick,” A man James didn’t recognize muttered. James was certain he wasn’t supposed to hear it, but the sitting room had been so dreadfully silent since they’d been led to it ten minutes ago that there was no way he couldn’t. He could practically hear Sirius brooding beside him, so the first words spoken stood out starkly no matter how quietly they were uttered. Walburga took a sharp breath in. Rage flashed in her eyes, but it was gone in an instant, her mask slipping back on.
“Thank you, Kreature. See to it he’s taken care of, hm?” Her forced smile did nothing to convince James she was anything less than enraged. He felt Sirius stiffen beside him. Regulus would surely be punished for missing lunch. “I am so sorry your Highness, I know you came all this way,” She cooed, nearly pouting in her over dramatic sympathy. All her attempt to suck up to him managed to do was make him nauseous.
“That’s quite alright,” James said, a warm smile gracing his face. It wasn’t, really. If all went well, this was his only chance to have any sort of interaction with Regulus before their wedding. But he wasn’t going to let his upset show, not when it could put Regulus in more danger. “Let’s have lunch, shall we? No point in letting a good meal go to waste.” He kept his tone light, and offered his arm for Walburga to take as she led him to the dining room. He’d rather pull his teeth out one by one than spend any more time around her than necessary, but he just smiled and allowed her to point out all of the improvements they’d made since he’d been there last. James didn’t believe for a second that she was actually pleased about his presence. Walburga hated him, she always had, but she was good at what she did. She wasn’t the only one who knew how to play the game, though. He wouldn’t last a day as king if he wasn’t capable of being polite to even the worst sort of people. Keep your enemies close and all that. Sirius trailed behind them, glancing around nervously. His false confidence from before was fading, as if his mother’s presence was sucking all of the joy out of him. James wished he could comfort him, or murder the woman who had broken him this way, but neither of those things would help them achieve what they were there to do.
“I hope you don’t mind if some more of the family joins us?” Walburga asked as they entered the dining room, gesturing to where Bellatrix and Narcissa sat. Goosebumps raised on his arms at the sight of Bellatrix. It felt like seeing a ghost, and not just because she was so pale the sunlight streaming in the large windows behind her seemed to reflect off of her. The last time James had seen her had been on the battlefield, when he’d stabbed her to stop her from killing Alice Longbottom. He hadn’t had any other choice. Frank and Alice had just gotten married. In that moment he knew his options were to take out Bellatrix or to look Frank in the eye and tell him that his wife had died on James’ watch.
Bellatrix sent him a crazy grin, and waved her fingers at him tauntingly. James took a breath in, hiding it by pulling out the seat on one end of the table for Walburga. She looked far too pleased with his manners. He couldn’t even bring himself to be disgusted with her.
“Of course not. The more the merrier,” He said once he’d collected himself, instead of one of the many insults he wanted to spew. He sat across from Walburga, right next to an empty seat he could only assume was Orion’s based on how ornate it was and its place at the head of the table. He pulled Sirius into the seat on the other side of him before Walburga could force him to sit elsewhere. “Will Lord Orion be joining us soon?” He asked, attempting to keep his tone neutral.
“He better be,” Sirius mumbled, ignoring the glare his mother shot him. He was slumped over, contrasting his usually relaxed but perfect posture. He propped his elbow on the table, no doubt in an effort to tick his mother off further. He had perfect table manners, even back home where it wasn’t necessary in the slightest. James elbowed him as subtly as he could. The last thing they needed was to turn Walburga against them. Orion may technically be the one to have the final say, but he knew from experience that having her as an enemy would make his life unnecessarily difficult.
“He will, yes. He sends his apologies for being late, he got caught up in a meeting last minute,” She smiled, ignoring her son. “There’s no point in waiting for him, Your Highness. Allow us to start,” She clapped, and there were half a dozen servants bringing food in. James was relieved to see Remus and Lily among them. They must’ve convinced the kitchen staff to let them help. He doubted Walburga would even notice the change in usual staff. Remus poured James and Sirius wine, shooting James a smug grin about being allowed to pour his drink. James fought the urge to stick his tongue out at him. When everything was in place, some of the staff stayed in the room, waiting to one side in case anything was needed. Remus and Lily stayed, standing across the room from them. James felt Sirius relax next to him.
James waited for Walburga to begin eating before he did. She took a full minute to do so, and he had no doubt it was a test of his manners. It would be rude to eat before the hostess. She smiled, fixing James with a look that made him feel like a science experiment. At least he had passed, for now. He was happy to dig in, even as he took his time to be extra polite. He hadn’t taken so long to choose the right fork in years. It was worth it though, when he finally began eating. The rations they’d had on the road hadn’t been nearly as good as the food the staff had prepared.
“So, if you don’t mind me asking, what brings you to the Manor, Your Highness?” Walburga asked eventually, ruining his brief moment of peace. James had never met someone so determined to squeeze his title into every sentence. She’d never treated him with this much respect when he was a kid. He had no doubt that it was because she had expected him to be dethroned in the war. She likely would have spent his entire youth sucking up to him if she knew he would actually end up inheriting the throne to the largest kingdom out of all of the five. He supposed that was one thing he was grateful to the war for.
“Ah, I’d rather wait until Lord Orion is here to discuss it, if that’s alright,” He sent her an apologetic smile. Her eyes narrowed minutely, and he felt Narcissa studying him in a similar way. “So, Narcissa, I hear you’ve married King Lucius?” He asked, looking to her in attempts to change the subject. Narcissa looked surprised to be addressed. He would bet she was used to being ignored, which was tragic. From what he remembered of their brief interactions, she had been quite intelligent when they were young.
“Yes, I have,” She said softly. James waited a moment until it was clear that was all really she planned to say. He shot Sirius a look. Sirius shrugged and resumed picking at his food. He would be no help then, too concentrated on sulking, as if this whole ordeal wasn’t his idea. Typical.
“How is it, if you don’t mind me asking? I haven’t been to Viridis in years,” James pushed. He hoped he wasn’t putting her on the spot, but if he had to sit in silence any longer he might’ve gone mad. Home was rarely this quiet during meals, and it made him uncomfortable. And if his only options were putting Narcissa on the spot and making small talk with Walburga…well, his apologies to Narcissa.
“It's…” She paused, choosing her words cautiously, “Lovely. Not nearly as sunny as Prongston, but the weather is nice this time of year. And I do enjoy being so close to home.” Narcissa stopped. James saw Walburga send her a nasty look out of the corner of his eye. Right, she was probably taught she should be seen and not heard. Fate forbid she state an opinion, let alone in front of company! How ever shall he enjoy his evening knowing that someone who isn’t an heir is capable of complex thought? Truly, another example of grade A parenting from the Black family.
“I can imagine that makes things easier,” He said, ignoring Walburga’s upset. She couldn’t say anything without being rude, and he intended to use that. “I have heard great things about the social events you have been planning since the wedding. I am glad to see you help Viridis get some of its life back,” He praised, knowing it would piss Walburga off. Good. Screw her. Narcissa smiled, seeming more comfortable.
“I will have to invite you to the next one, provided travel isn’t too much of a burden,” She said, voice a bit more sure. It was nice to see her with a bit more of her confidence. It was more right when she was sure of herself. She was regal, too regal to be so uncertain. Her hair was pulled back in a complicated style, showing off the contrast between the white and the black, and she wore a lovely emerald green dress. She tilted her head up to look at him, and smiled. “I believe we should be holding an engagement party next month, to celebrate Bellatrix’ engagement to Lord Lestrange.”
James shuddered as attention was brought to Bellatrix. He’d been trying his hardest to ignore her. Every time he looked at her, all he could see was her pale skin growing paler from blood loss as it gushed out from her abdomen, even as he tried so hard to put enough pressure on the wound to stop it.
He was put out of his misery when the door swung open and Orion walked in, completely oblivious as to how loud his entrance was. It had been years since James had seen him, and the war had clearly taken its toll on him. His once black hair was streaked with grey. He’d lost weight, likely due to stress, and he looked tired. James stood to meet him.
“Lord Orion,” He smiled, offering him a hand to shake. He smelled like bourbon and cigars, and James could only assume his ‘important meeting’ was probably at the gentlemen’s club down the street. Orion’s hand was cold when it grasped his.
“Prince James,” He smiled. It was an unpleasant smile indeed. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” He asked, gesturing for James to sit back down. He was more than happy to. It gave him something to do besides answering the question. He wasn’t sure if he was meant to just come right out and say it. For all his social training, he’d never been taught how to ask for someone's’ hand. At least, not in these circumstances. He wished, not for the first time, that his own parents were there.
“Well, it is my understanding that you are looking for a match for Regulus,” James said. Orion raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t continue. Instead, Sirius spoke.
“Father, I promised you I’d help find a suitable match for Regulus,” He said, straightening his posture back up. He looked as noble as he was bred to be, “I hope you will forgive me for taking my time in my decision. I wanted my brother to marry the best,” He smiled at his father, something cold and professional about it. James saw Walburga’s smile shift with understanding, her eyes almost glittering with excitement.
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Orion said, taking a long sip of his wine. Well, here goes nothing, James thought. Might as well rip the band aid off.
“Lord Orion, I’d like to marry Regulus,” He said simply. Orion nearly choked in his wine, waving off the servant who stepped forward to help him. “I had hoped to meet him again today, but I understand he is under the weather. Regardless, I would like to ask you for his hand in marriage,” James finished. The silence that followed seemed to stretch out forever. His eyes found Lily and Remus. Lily gave him a thumbs up, and Remus mouthed ‘smooth’, his lip quirking. He couldn’t be doing that terribly then.
“We’d be honored!” Walburga interjected, apparently tired of her husband’s social incompetence. “To have our son marry you would be an absolute honor, Your Highness.” She smiled, suffocatingly sweet.
“Why?” All eyes turned to Bellatrix, who was twirling her steak knife between her fingers. “Why do you want to marry my cousin, Potter?” She asked, no concern for the formalities. She leaned back in her chair, eyes sharp with curiosity.
“Do I need a reason?” James asked, hoping his voice didn’t sound as choked as it felt. Every time he looked at her face all he could see was the life slowly leaving her eyes as she bled out in his arms. He’d nearly killed her.
“Usually? No,” She said, “But you have your pick of suitors. The great war hero James Potter could have anyone he wanted, even without the added benefit of your throne. What do you want with the spare son from a disgraced household?” Bellatrix asked, twirling her knife between her fingers with a deadly ease. Walburga looked ready to murder her.
“That’s quite enough, Bellatrix! Please excuse her, your highness, she hasn’t been right since-” She said, her voice strained.
“I would also like to know why,” Orion spoke, interrupting her without a second thought. His wife shot him a horrified look and he added, “Your highness. My niece is right, you must have far better options than someone in our circumstances. Why my son?” It was the first smart thing he’d said. It was rather odd, admittedly. James took a moment to think of an answer that would satisfy him.
“Frankly, I am not concerned with what people think of my choice in a partner, nor the social standing of your family. And why should I be? Sirius was in my home as one of my closest advisors during the war. I, more than anyone, would know that your family was forced into the stance you took,” James answered. It was bollocks, all of it, and it seemed like the ladies at the table saw right through it from how they were studying him. They knew as well as he did that Sirius was a very different case, and that there were very few who actually believed they had been forced to do anything. He took a breath and squared his shoulders, “Anyone who thinks I am anything but loyal to the Order can say so to my face. I would be happy to prove where my loyalties lie. Just as I am sure your family would be happy for the opportunity to do the same.” He raised an eyebrow. He should have used some of the trip here to think of answers to questions they may ask. Of course they would ask questions. Why would they just accept his proposal without suspicion? Fate forbid something be easy for him.
“Of course you aren’t worried. They don’t name holidays after people on the wrong side of the war, now do they?” Bellatrix smirked. Her eyes were narrowed, her face a mask that barely hid the insanity and hatred he’d seen during the war. She raised an eyebrow, almost amused, the same way she had just before he’d thrust his knife into her abdomen. It all seemed to happen so fast, and yet it felt like everything was in slow motion at the same time. Bellatrix had emerged from the smoke, her eyes as wild as her hair and face smeared with blood, charging at Alice with a hatred he didn’t understand. Alice’s back was turned and even if it hadn’t been it wasn’t likely she could beat Bellatrix. And then James was in her path instead, his knife sliding firm into Bellatrix’ stomach.
He took a sharp breath in, his lungs filling with the burning smell of smoke and iron. It was all wrong for Black Manor, the ringing in his ears as his heartbeat grew louder to match the booming of cannons that surrounded him. He wasn’t there. He wasn’t on the battlefield. He knew that. He could see everything around him. The china on the table, that was reserved for special occasions, Lily’s fiery red hair, Remus’ concern. But his hands twitched for his sword nonetheless, fear spiking in him when it wasn’t in its place at his side. His hand tightened into a fist around his steak knife, willing it to be enough to defend himself when he was struck. His eyes flicked around the room, searching for an exit, a plan, anything to get his friends out of there. His lungs were burning now, he was nearly choking on the horrible mix of smoke and blood. He had to get them out of there. He could fight, but they couldn’t. And he refused to let Sirius try to fight his own family.
Sirius’ hand on his leg cut through the noise, his grasp firm. He tapped James’ leg three times, a code they’d picked up during the war for the nights when either one of them would have nightmares. We are safe. James looked at him, baffled. How could they possibly be safe when Bellatrix was right there, bloodthirsty and angry? How could they be safe when they’d foolishly waltzed right into the home of the enemy? Sirius tapped again, more insistent this time. We are safe.
James took a deep breath in, and all he smelled was the roast on the table in front of him. Right. He wasn’t in danger. Not any immediate danger at least. His mind was easy enough to convince, a quick look around the room naming things he could sense to himself. His body was less pliable. His muscles were still tense, adrenaline preparing him for a coming fight. He took a moment to breathe, attempting to look like he was thinking. He forced himself to sip from his cup, the chemical taste of the red wine doing just enough to reset his system. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to force an answer out of him.
“You’re right, they don’t. That is why I am more than certain that no one will bat an eye at my engagement to Regulus,” He gritted out. He hoped it came off more annoyed than distressed, but he knew it was likely Bellatrix would see right through him. If anyone besides her or his friends had caught on to his episode, none of them showed it. Bellatrix opened her mouth to speak again, but she wasn’t given the chance.
“Bellatrix! Shut your mouth. One more word out of you and I swear-,” Walburga hissed, curling her pale fingers around her own steak knife. Bellatrix, crazy, evil Bellatrix, flinched. Her jaw clicked shut, and her gaze fell to the table. How horrible these people must really be, if even she reacted like that. “I apologise, Your Highness. I assure you she should know far better than to speak to you like that. We will be sure to correct that behavior after lunch,” She smiled unpleasantly. Bellatrix’ shoulders hitched, and Narcissa subtly put her hand over her sister’s on the table. Protecting her.
“It is alright,” James said, offering a forced smile. He didn’t want her to do anything to Bellatrix, no matter how awful she was. After all, it was Walburga who made her like that. “I appreciate your family’s protectiveness of each other.” Sirius scoffed beside him, and James shot him a silencing look. Saying it had felt like swallowing barbed wire, but he had to say something.
“Why Regulus?” Orion asked, taking a sip from his flask of Fate knows what. James eyed him cautiously. He didn’t want to speak to him when he was sober, much less when he was drunk, and James had no clue how much he’d drank before arriving.
“Pardon?” He frowned. Walburga looked ready to murder her husband on the spot. James wouldn’t even be surprised if she did.
“Why not just marry Sirius?” Orion pushed forward, seemingly unfazed by his wife's distress. “You know him far better, and he is already adjusted to living with you. Why not just ask for his hand?” He popped a cube of cheese in his mouth, raising an eyebrow. Sirius’ face drained of color. James felt a familiar gaze glaring holes in his skin, and knew if he looked he’d find Remus glowering at him. As if this was his idea. He tried to mentally project just how much he disliked the idea, in hopes to prevent himself from being torn to shreds.
“He is your first born,” James furrowed his eyebrows. “Forgive my bluntness, but you can’t expect me to take this offer seriously. He is meant to be someone’s suitor, not the other way around,” He bit his lip. Was that an odd test? Perhaps of his knowledge of society? There wasn’t another solution, other than that Orion was serious. But why would he be?
“Why not?” Orion shrugged, speaking with his mouth full. “Up until a few generations ago, men weren’t meant to marry other men. Things change. Surely you, as a child of the ever-progressive Potter family, aren’t against things changing? It is unorthodox, but you could easily be the first of many such matches,” He waved his fork as he spoke. James felt like his head was spinning. Orion was many things, but progressive was not one of them. James tried to think of a rational explanation. Maybe Orion was already drunk. Maybe he’d hit his head. Maybe he thought this would somehow be even better for his family’s reputation. Nothing like breaking tradition to show how they truly don’t align with Riddle. That…made sense. Oddly enough. It wasn’t that bad of a plan, really. Riddle never would have approved of such a match. Anyone could marry their youngest off, but a marriage between two heirs was relatively unheard of.
“Well…” James started, wracking his brain for any type of excuse. He pulled upon every aspect of his social and strategic abilities in a desperate attempt to figure out what to say. “You must be aware of how Sirius is,” He said, finally, all of his training failing him in an instant. He’d have to beg his mum for forgiveness later. So much for social and strategic abilities. Sirius snapped out of his befuddled stupor to fix him with an offended look.
“Lovely, isn’t he? Is he not to your liking?” Walburga asked, deciding to take her husband’s game and run with it. Bugger. This was not going to go well for him, no matter how he answered. Either he offended Sirius, which he’d never hear the end of, or he’d marry him and Remus would tear him to pieces. He wasn’t sure which was worse.
“No, that’s not what I mean at all. Sirius is…Well, he’s stunning,” James paused. “He always has been, and I am certain he always will be. I imagine he takes after his mother in that way.” Flattery was one of the easiest tools at his disposal, and from the way Walburga preened it was working. “That is the reason I know Regulus will be, even without having seen him in so many years. Your family is known for producing beautiful people, if nothing else.” He smiled, the same smile that had won over people hundreds of times.
“Thank you for your kindness, it is an honor to know you hold our family in such high esteem,” Walburga purred. James' skin crawled. High esteem? Yeah, right. If he had any say in it, he’d personally be responsible for the downfall of their wretched family and its traditions.
“Then what do you mean? How exactly am I?” Sirius asked, surprisingly bitter. It caught James off-guard. He’d been somewhat prepared for someone to ask a follow up question. He just hadn’t expected it to be Sirius. And he could only pray his friend would forgive him for the answer he had prepared.
“You are headstrong,” James sighed, using the outburst to prove his point. Sirius scoffed. James shot him a pleading look. “I appreciate it, don’t get me wrong. It makes you a fantastic member of my court. And it will make you a strong head of the family, when you inherit. But…Well, I truly can’t imagine marrying you.” He shrugged. Narcissa gave him an interesting look that he couldn’t decipher. But Walburga and Orion both seemed invested in what he was saying, so he’d press forward with his half baked plan to get their approval. He sent a silent apology to Sirius before he continued.
“I will be king one day. I can’t have a partner who will question me in front of others, or argue with me. I need someone who will respect me. Someone who…” He winced, “Someone who will know their place. Aside from producing beautiful heirs, you are known for raising them properly. Just as you raised Sirius to be the head of house, I am certain you raised Regulus to be married off as second-borns are meant to.” James took a sip from his cup, steeling his nerves. He needed to sell this. If they didn’t believe he had no reason to want Regulus specifically, he had no doubt Walburga would pin the fact that it was a favor. And somehow, he doubted that would go over well. They may have been desperate, but they were still prideful people.
“From what I recall of Regulus, he was intelligent. Quite the chess player, if I am not misremembering. And rather quick witted. He made for interesting conversation. I cannot have a partner who is any less. I would grow bored, and he’d likely be a terrible host.” He wet his lips, “But he was obedient enough not to be a problem. Regulus is, if you raised him as I trust you did, precisely what I am looking for. Pretty, interesting, and obedient. He will look good by my side and make me look good, but he will not question me the way Sirius would,” James finished, keeping his voice between bored and decisive, which was hard when the words he was saying made him want to retch. He ignored the incredulous look Sirius was giving him, in favor of making eye contact with Orion.
“I see…” Orion muttered, swirling his drink. He was convinced, at least. Walburga seemed all too pleased with his answer, smirking at Sirius as if she’d won. As if she’d been right about something he didn’t even want to know.
“So you understand why when Sirius informed me you were looking for a match for Regulus, I couldn’t help but be intrigued,” James waved his fork. He’d been doing his best impression of a bored aristocrat and could only hope he was selling it. He needed to seem like the type of person they’d want to marry Regulus off to, at least until he could get him out of here. Bellatrix clearly didn’t believe his act in the slightest, based on the sneer she directed at him, but even the servants in the room seemed nervous now. The only person he couldn’t decipher was Narcissa, who was looking at her plate with a blank face.
There was a prolonged silence, broken only by the occasional scrap of silverware. Walburga seemed to be having a silent conversation with Orion, one James didn’t care to decipher. The silence was driving him insane, as was the way Sirius was looking at him as if he were an alien.
“Unless I was mistaken? Are you not interested in marrying him?” He asked eventually, desperate to break the silence. Sirius was outright gaping at him now. Damnit. He was not helping sell this. James elbowed him. He had to at least pretend that any of this was planned, or even vaguely normal. He could yell at him later.
“No, we are.” Orion said quickly, finally seeming to remember basic manners, “Our apologies. We are just a bit… surprised at your interest, is all. Pleased, but surprised,” He smiled at James approvingly. James’ stomach churned.
“I couldn’t think of a better match!” Walburga beamed, “Thank Fate you’ve decided to grace us so kindly, Your Highness,” She purred, laying it on thick. James took another swig of his wine to save face. He wanted this to be over, now, so he could scrub this interaction from his skin and forget he’d ever come here.
“It’s all thanks to Sirius, really,” He said, narrowing his eyes minutely. “It admittedly took a bit of convincing for me to decide on Regulus, all things considered,” He feigned casualty. He wanted them to acknowledge Sirius. They’d both avoided doing so since he’d arrived, and it was pissing James off. They hadn’t seen him in eight years and they’d yet to so much as greet him.
“Yes, of course…” Walburga’s smile turned pained, “Thank you, Sirius. You’ve outdone yourself,” She forced out. James wanted to call her a terrible mother, along with several other rather impolite names, but he settled for reveling in her embarrassment. Sirius’ eyes widened, and a grin split across his face. Perhaps it would help Sirius forgive him for what he said.
“Of course, Mother. You know I’d do anything for the good of the family,” He said, a bit too dramatically to be believable. Walburga’s expression soured, like someone had spat in her drink. Someone might’ve, if Remus or Lily had poured it.
“Yes, thank you Sirius,” Orion said, distractedly, “We have much to discuss, Your highness. Such as Regulus’ dowry.” Straight to the point then. Despite the fact that he was planning to discuss giving away a good amount, he was looking at James like he was about to earn quite a bit of money. Like he was a piggy bank ripe for the plundering. James was not thrilled to tie himself to these people, but it was for Sirius’ sake. And Regulus’.
Still, he’d rather this conversation be over. He’d finished his meal, and he wanted to take a nap. Now that he’d convinced them to let him marry Regulus he didn’t need anything else from them. He’d handle the wedding planning, or he’d see to it that someone else did, and all they needed to do was bring Regulus in one piece.
“Don’t trouble yourself,” James dismissed with a wave of his hand, “I won’t accept any dowry.” He downed the rest of his wine. If he had to continue this for much longer, he’d need it. Before he could even frown at his empty cup, Remus was there to refill it. James saw him put a hand on Sirius’ shoulder, even if only for a moment, and Sirius visibly relaxed.
“No dowry?” Orion repeated slowly, as if it was his first time hearing those words. It was unorthodox, but James didn’t want any money that came from these people. He had more than enough as it was. Besides, Orion had seemed ready to embrace the unorthodox earlier, he should have no problem with this.
“We couldn’t possibly,” Walburga interjected, voice sickeningly sweet. She batted her eyelashes at James, as if she wanted to marry him herself. James’ stomach churned at the thought. She opened her mouth to say something else, but Orion interrupted.
“Walburga, why don’t you and the girls go to the drawing room? I’m sure all this talk of semantics is boring you,” He said, shooting her a look. James frowned. No wonder Sirius had been so worried about Regulus, if this is what a marriage looked like to them. He couldn’t imagine his father talking to his mother like that, let alone in front of guests, and he certainly wouldn’t be walking away unharmed if he dared attempt it. Walburga just took it with an annoyed smile, bowing to James and leading Bellatrix and Narcissa out of the room. James was relieved to watch Bellatrix go, even if she’d long since been silenced.
“Now about this dowry,” Orion started, but James stopped him with a raised hand.
“I mean it. I won’t accept any money from you, Orion,” James insisted. “You’re still recovering from the war. The only thing I want from you is Regulus’ hand. Just give me your approval and we’ll be married by the end of next month, and you won’t have to worry about him anymore,” He said bluntly. He’d normally use more charm, the way his mum had taught him, but his head was starting to hurt and he didn’t want to spend any more time talking about Regulus as if he was an object.
“It’s a good deal, Father,” Sirius piped up. Good to see he hadn’t changed his mind about James then, “Better than you’ll get from anyone else. A marriage to the right side of the war, to a Prince no less, and it won’t cost you more than a wedding,” He handed his father the flask from his own jacket. James knew it had something far stronger than the wine they’d been drinking, and likely whatever Orion had been taking from his own flask.
“Well then, gentlemen. I suppose a celebration is in order,” Orion grinned, taking a long sip from Sirius’ flask.