Ever the Same

The sound of quill on parchment filled the air of James Potter's office, doing little to distract him from the thoughts plaguing his mind.

The night before had been one of the best of his entire life, spending it with Regulus again. It was...different than before, both could feel. It felt much more real, given the lack of magical bonds.

And James knew that it terrified Regulus.

To be in complete control of his emotions was something that Regulus Black never had the luxury of experiencing for most of his life, always doing as he was told. Even during the war, Regulus was largely following the plans of magic and Albus Dumbledore, not his own.

But the war had ended, and Regulus was a free wizard in more ways than one. The thought of being able to love someone so openly and freely was a concept so foreign that he almost wasn't going to allow himself to have it.

James knew that he couldn't ruin that type of moment with the news of Bellatrix Lestrange, so he had decided to not tell Regulus of his cousin the night before. But now, sitting in his office and beginning to look back through the case, James was filled with trepidation.

The door to James's office rattled as it was pushed open by Auror Scrimgeour, holding what looked to be the morning paper. Without a word, he dropped it on the desk between them and James saw his own face reflecting back at him.

The headline glared back at James as his eyes slid down the page to look at the photograph of the two of them. It was a small mercy that it wasn't of their steamy kiss at the end of the night, but it was still just as incriminating.

James watched as he leaned in to whisper in Regulus's ear before they arrived at the restaurant. The picture was obviously taken from a bush or an opening in an alleyway, and James found himself infuriated.

"What's this?"

"I believe I should be asking you that, Auror Potter."

"It looks to be the morning paper, Sir."

"This isn't time for your foolish jokes."

James felt himself sit up straighter at Scrimgeour's mean tone. "My personal life has no bearing on what I do at work, sir."

"You and I both know that isn't the case. The Minister is requesting a brief on the Lestrange case in one hour."

"I received that file yesterday."

"One hour, Potter."

The divide between the Hogwarts houses had lessened since James and Regulus's time in school, mostly because of the fall of the Dark Lord. The rivalries had turned mostly healthy, centering around house points and quidditch.

But no matter how closely the houses would grow, you would never see a Slytherin sitting at the Gryffindor table.

That was, until Draco Malfoy proudly walked over to the Gryffindor table, nudging his way between Harry and Ron.

"Have you seen this?"

The Daily Prophet slapped against the table with an audible thud, barely missing Ron's pumpkin juice.

"Watch it, Malfoy!"

"Apologies, Weasley, but you two have to see this! Look!"

Harry and Ron looked down at the paper on the table, the headline blaring back up at them.

"He wasn't even really a death eater!" was the first thing out of Draco's mouth as he sat down and began to butter a piece of toast aggressively.

"He does have the mark, though," Ron interjected. "It doesn't look good."

Draco shot a venomous look at Ron. "It's not like he had a choice. For Merlin's sake, he traveled back in-"

Harry quickly threw his arms around Draco and covered his mouth with his hand. "He traveled back into London and was a spy for the Order. We all know the story, Draco."

He slowly removed his hand once he believed Draco to understand what he was preventing.

It was a very well-kept secret in the Wizarding community that Regulus Black had time-traveled. The necessary people were notified, the time turner destroyed, and no one spoke of it. The ramifications of someone getting their hands on a time turner would be catastrophic.

"Well, regardless. They have no right in talking about Uncle Regulus like this. I hope your father is doing something about it."

"My father?" Harry blanched. "I wouldn't be surprised if Regulus doesn't decapitate whoever this Rita Skeeter woman is!"

"You are so dramatic, Potter. Regulus hasn't killed anyone since the war."

"He's killed people?" Ron suddenly spoke up. "Blimey. I didn't think about that. Our professor has killed someone."

But Harry groaned loudly, dropping his head onto the table with an audible thunk.

"What's the matter?"

"Our professor snogged my father. My father snogged our professor."

And Draco couldn't help but look a bit smug at the fact that he had been right all along.

Regulus largely ignored the picture of himself lying in front of him as he finished his morning tea. He was not surprised at all by the front page of the Daily Prophet, and was even prepared for it.

The Daily Prophet had been foaming at the mouth to get an exclusive interview from Regulus Black for years, given that he was considered the head of the Black family. Much to his chagrin, Sirius had refused to take the position as heir back once their parents were out of the picture. That left Regulus everything that the Black family possessed, meaning that he was the richest man in all of the western Wizarding world.

And Merlin's Beard, did he detest it.

Being aggressively wealthy was a privilege he knew, but it did nothing to help him with his anonymity once the Dark Lord had fallen. The cover story that had been expertly crafted and leaked to the media was simple enough, but the tiny, missing details were large enough to continue to keep them chomping at the bit.

Aside from a handful of people, the world was informed that Regulus Black had been a spy for the Order since leaving Hogwarts, working exclusively under the late and great Albus Dumbledore.

But somehow, it had become so befuddled and muddy that the Daily Prophet was under the suspicion that the elusive and suave Regulus Black had more to hide.

Which he absolutely did, not that they needed to know that.

Regulus was preparing himself to face his classes that morning when the owl first arrived.

Reg-

We need to talk, the sooner the better. Fancy having a pint at the Hog's Head this afternoon? I'm leaving the office at six.

J

The note was brief, bereft of any real inclination of what James wanted.

And it set Regulus's teeth on edge.

It was the end, he was sure. James had realized, the moment that the morning paper had surfaced, that wasn't the life he wanted to pursue.

And Regulus was fine with that. More than fine. He would amicably agree with James that their...relationship...or whatever it was that the two were doing together was much too complicated to continue.

He was fine.

But he couldn't quite understand why his stomach was completely tied up in knots as he entered the potions classroom.

Regulus noted the way that Harry stared at him once again, not unlike the last time they had attended class. But this time, notably, Harry seemed a bit green.

Draco, sitting beside of him, continued to shoot the same look at Regulus that his own father used to wear. He had known that he was right all of those years, and it was not a fact that he would ever allow Regulus to forget.

But somehow the polarizing looks on both wizards' faces did nothing to quell the uneasiness that had begun to settle in Regulus's stomach.

"Another practical lesson today, I believe," he could hear himself saying. "The first pair to correctly brew a hair raising potion will be exempt from writing the 18 inches of parchment on the multiple uses of dragon's blood that I will be expecting on my desk Friday morning."

There was a collective groan and grumble that cut through the class as the students sprang slowly into action. Regulus sank behind his desk and began to rummage through a stack of parchment that had been neglecting.

Harry couldn't stop looking at Regulus.

He was a private person, Regulus Black. But for some reason, Harry could see right through him. Reg occupied himself with the parchment in front of him, but Harry knew he was looking right through it.

"You should go talk to him," Harry leaned over and spoke to Draco. "He seems upset."

"Why in Merlin's beard would he be upset?" Draco asked, adding the porcupine quills to their cauldron. "He's the richest man in Britain and he's gotten everything he's wanted. I'm sure you're reading too much into this, Potter."

"I don't think so," Harry disagreed, watching the way that Regulus rifled through the parchment for the second and third time. "I think he's nervous."

Draco sighed, "Fine. I will brew this potion so we don't have to write those 18 inches of parchment, you go talk to Uncle Reg and put your mind to ease."

Draco left Harry no other option as he returned to stirring their cauldron, and Harry was standing and moving towards his professor's desk before he knew what he was doing.

Standing in front of Regulus's desk, Harry carefully cleared his throat, "Professor Black?"

Regulus startled, looking up from the papers in his hand that he was pretending to read, "Mr. Potter. Harry. Is there something you need?"

"Are you alright, Professor?"

"Of course, Harry," Regulus laid the parchment down to give him his full attention.

"We...saw the paper."

Flash.

The briefest flicker of silver passed in Regulus's storm grey eyes, his occlumency falling just enough for Harry to notice.

"I- I think it's brilliant!" Harry felt himself word-vomiting. "And Malfoy's been telling me for years that you and Dad- well- anyway, you don't have to worry about any of us, Professor."

Harry stood taller as he said the next bit.

"And no one else in this school is going to have anything to say about it either. We'll make sure of it."

Regulus stared at Harry long enough that Harry began to squirm underneath his gaze.

He's so much like his father, Regulus first thought.

And then, He cares enough to stand up for me.

Regulus cleared his throat, "That's very kind of you, Harry, but I promise that I can take care of myself. I don't want neither you nor Draco worrying about anything of the sort."

As Regulus continued to talk to Harry he reached into the drawer on the right side of his desk, producing a box of sweets.

He silently slid them across the desk, nodding for Harry to take them. With a quick look around the room to make sure no one was watching, Harry picked up the sealed container and stared down at it, confused.

Regulus had already returned to looking down at the parchment in his hand when he said, "Her name is Isadora, the witch at the counter at Honeyduke's. She sends her regards."

Harry's cheeks and neck reddened deeply as he held the box of jelly beans. "Thanks, Professor."

Regulus did not think that he was unapproachable.

Intimidating, sometimes, maybe. But certainly not unapproachable.

He was unable to see the harshness that he carried on his face accidentally, marching through the halls of the castle and down to Hogsmeade wearing his most expensive cloak.

He was dressed in all black, with his waistcoat shining with just the slightest of green hues. He clenched and unclenched his fists, feeling the leather against his fingers as he began to slowly breathe and occlude.

Regulus was prepared for James to break the bad news. He was so prepared, in fact, that he had all but convinced himself that he would agree.

Of course it was a bad idea for the two of them to see one another. Of course there was no possible way to make it work.

Convincing himself it was the right idea was much easier knowing what awaited him at the pub.

James was tired.

The minister had all but questioned his loyalty to the Wizengamot, raising his eyebrow every time James had defended Regulus's honor. To the minister, there was no possible way that Regulus Black, the man who had carved a still-beating heart out of the chest of a Malfoy, wasn't in contact with his deranged cousin.

James knew it to be impossible. After everything they had lost, and everything he had sacrificed, James knew that Regulus would never side with Bellatrix Lestrange.

He didn't think much about the letter as he sent it to Regulus, the stress and worry weighing his shoulders down at the thought of finding the missing woman. It would be a difficult conversation to have, and one that James should have already spoke with him about.

But despite the stress and the worry, James Potter couldn't help but feel the warmth shoot down his spine as he pulled his cloak on at the end of the day, walking just a bit faster to the lift before he could disapparate away from the ministry and land at the entrance to Hogsmeade.

He was excited to see Regulus again, despite the fact that it had been virtually no time at all since their date. A warmth that James wasn't quite used to began to build in his chest, flowing through his body like honey and reaching as far as his toes.

James was so excited, in fact, that he did not notice that he had stepped right into the lift that carried Octavia Selwyn. The doors slid closed, and James began to hum a tune under his breath. The witch to his right, who he hadn't bothered looking at in the slightest, subtly reached over and clicked the emergency stop button.

"Oi."

"James Potter, as I live and breathe."

Just the sound of her voice was enough to raise the hair on the back of James's neck, knowing that he had no way out of the situation that he had created.

"Octavia," he sang, attempting to sound happy. "It has been a good minute since I've seen you. How are you doing?"

"I would be better if you would accept my invitation to dinner, Mr. Potter," she all but teased.

He wasn't proud of it, but James had garnered something of a reputation on the auror floor. And Octavia Selwyn somehow thought that she would be the one to tame James Potter. Force him to settle down.

There was a sense of sick satisfaction in the back of his mind as he spoke.

"Apologies, but I'm a taken man these days."

Octavia scoffed, "You can't tell me that James Potter has a girlfriend and expect me to take that seriously."

"Oh, good," James smirked, one side of his mouth pulling up in a very Black family way. "Because I have a boyfriend."

She blinked. "Boyfriend."

"Like a girlfriend that is not a woman, yes."

Octavia continued to stare at James as he reached in front of her, getting a complete whiff of the overwhelming perfume that coated her skin. Clicking the button to get the lift moving again, James returned to humming a tune before exiting the lift and turning on the spot.

Regulus had been sitting in the booth for thirteen minutes, a magical sign that James probably wasn't even coming after all. He wanted, Regulus surmised, such a clean break that he didn't even intend to end it in person.

He was on his third firewhiskey when he heard the familiar voice behind him.

"Blimey, Reg. Sorry I'm late. Octavia Selwyn caught me in the lift and Merlin's tits, is she just simply awful. You're never going to believe-"

James's sentence cut short as he noticed Regulus didn't turn to meet his eyes. He noted the three empty glasses in front of Reg.

"Got started a bit early, hm?" James sunk into the booth across from Regulus, clocking how dark his eyes were.

Regulus continued to remain mute.

"You're mad," James stated. "Particularly at me."

"Not mad," Regulus spoke, his voice even sounding too robotic to his own ears. "I understand. We both knew this would be difficult, and I agree. We shouldn't be doing this."

"What?"

"There's no further need to sully your reputation at the ministry because of me, Potter. We'll go our separate ways after tonight. I promise to be cordial at our family gatherings."

James ignored the way his mind flashed back to the memory of the minister and continued to gawk at Reg.

"You think I invited you here to break up with you?"

"That is usually what happens when one says that we need to talk."

James snorted into his butterbeer, covering the table top and James's nose with foam.

"You insufferable prat! I'm not here to break up with you! I'm here to tell you I'm hunting Bellatrix."

He had dropped his voice low as he said the last bit, his voice coming out more of a grumble. The sound of the words caused the briefest of cracks to begin to form in the dark grey irises of Regulus, and James visibly softened.

"I told you I didn't care what people thought, Regulus. I meant that."

As if to prove his words, James slid out from his side of the booth and forced his way into Regulus's side, both of their hips and thighs rubbing against one another because of how narrow the benches were.

"What are you doing?" Regulus asked, still avoiding James's stare.

"Proving that I mean it."

One of James's arm blanketed the back of the booth behind Regulus, and the other lifted to Reg's face. James watched as Reg's eyes widened, the dark grey clearing to leave behind the brightest of silver as his occlumency snapped.

It was meant to be a chaste kiss, one that proved to Regulus and anyone else that was watching that James Potter didn't care to be seen with the Black family heir. But the minute their lips touched it was like fire, both of them reacting as if the feeling was enough to burn them alive. James's palm found the back of Regulus's neck as he kissed him fiercely, pulling him impossibly closer.

"Oh, gross."

"Your father is proper snogging Uncle Reg in there, isn't he?"

"If you say that one more time, Malfoy, I'll vomit directly on your expensive dragonhide shoes."

Draco sniffed, trying to conceal his laughter. "It was your idea to follow him in the first place, Potter. We didn't have to be doing this."

The two small wizards were huddled together beneath the Potter family invisibility cloak, standing at the window directly across from James and Regulus's table. Harry had been so curious at Regulus's dark mood that he couldn't resist following him into Hogsmeade.

"I thought for sure something was wrong, the way that he acted today in class."

"Have you ever stopped and thought that he's scared of dating your father, Potter?"

Harry looked at Draco incredulously. "Whatever in the world for?"

"Watch the way he looks at him," Draco whispered, pointing back towards the men inside. "He's so nervous he's about to croak."

"Regulus Black doesn't get nervous! He's-" Harry's struggled for the words. "He's killed people! Traveled back in time! Why would he be scared of my father?"

Draco sighed, shaking his head. "Because I think he's been in love with James Potter far longer than even I had thought."

And Harry thought about that, standing at the window and watching them. He noted the blush that coated both of their faces when they did finally break apart, with James not bothering to remove his hand from Regulus's neck. Both men seemed unimaginably happy, and Harry allowed himself to daydream.

What would it be like, he thought, if Regulus did date my dad?

"Come on, Malfoy. Let's get back up to the castle."