Chanson d'Hiver

Regulus was experiencing emotional overload. He was lying sprawled across the massive bed like a starfish, once again wearing the outsized CGBG t-shirt he’d stolen from Sirius and a pair of grey joggers, listening to Chopin’s Nocturnes on repeat. He hadn’t been able to sleep, hadn’t been able to stop replaying the moments of the last 48 hours like a film in his head.

James, mouth to mouth with Lily (yes, he knew her name), wrapped in an embrace that most decidedly did not look like nothing.

James, coming to the door of Regulus’s suite looking like a man on fire, only making things worse when he confirmed that he had indeed had feelings for Lily for “a while”—whatever the bloodyhell that meant. How could Regulus and the two weeks they’d spent in one another’s company possibly compare to that? Obviously it had meant nothing or James wouldn’t have been so quick to fall into her arms.

James, standing in front of him, imploring Regulus to listen to him. The way that his eyebrows had met in two slanting lines over the hazel-brown eyes that Regulus had grown to love.

James, whose hair was more mussed than usual, face flushed, panting—he had clearly run to Regulus’s room, but Regulus couldn’t find it in him to be anything other than harsh. He had torn down his walls for James, and that wasn’t something Regulus did all the time—or ever.

James, who had stepped in to Regulus, pleading, the scent of him wafting around and the warmth rolling off of him. Regulus had placed a hand on James’s chest, feeling it firm, unyielding, immovable as marble under his palm. He’d had to close his eyes, then, knowing that he was moments away from doing something very, very stupid if he didn’t banish James. And so he had.

Sirius, coming to talk to Regulus—of fucking course, because why wouldn’t he immediately side with James?

Sirius, essentially telling their parents to fuck off and leaving Regulus saddled with the responsibility. He’d asked Regulus to go, of course, but it wasn’t really an option—he hadn’t fought for Regulus. He’d turned without a second thought and left Regulus’s suite. Had Sirius looked back when he left, he would have seen Regulus sobbing and unraveling.

He’d barely moved since. Dinner with his parents was a mechanical affair, with Regulus sitting perfectly erect at the table, eating his way through the courses his parents had ordered. He gazed into the distance, barely processing the conversation, only flinching slightly when his parents mentioned Sirius’s name, that he had made a horrid mistake and wouldn’t receive a single pence.

Regulus couldn’t stop thinking about James. The feel of his hands, the scent of him, the way he looked so good in glasses, that lurid orange jacket… the way he seemed to delight in making Regulus laugh, the way one lock of hair seemed to curl slightly over his forehead while the rest stuck out every which way as if it had never met a comb… the hurt in his eyes as Regulus threw him out, finally cottoning on that he was unwelcome.

That was the part with which Regulus was struggling most: James’s injured expression, knowing that Regulus was the cause of it. What sort of fucked up line of thinking was it that James had hurt Regulus first but he was wanting to soothe James? Regulus shook his head against the pillow, chastising himself.

Leaving with Sirius would have been a risk. The thread of Sirius’s life was so wound up in the thread of James’s that there wouldn’t be room for Regulus in that tapestry without inevitably running into James, and Regulus didn’t think he could bear it. Trusting someone was a futile act, and Regulus knew now why he had been guarded for so long. Lily and James could gallivant into the sunset and have offspring and Regulus would have to be content with seeing his brother when he could, without having to risk running into James bloody Potter.

It may have been nothing more than a casual fling for James, but Regulus knew that he was irrevocably changed.

*****

Regulus was sitting tucked into the open doorway of his balcony, bundled against the cold. He’d wanted a change of scenery from his suite, but he was determined to keep a low profile. He was craving one last cocoa from his favorite cranky vendor, but he’d rather die out on the balcony than risk passing James Potter (though he had briefly contemplated disguising himself as if he were hiding from paparazzi).

He was reading Tess of the D’Urbervilles. The book was tragic and bleak, but Regulus needed something like that right now and was thankful he’d had the foresight to pack it. There was a scene where Angel Clare loved Tess so much that even the curve of her wrist was beautiful to him as she went about her dairymaid duties. Angel Clare was no perfect love, to be sure, but to care for someone so much that the bend of a wrist makes one’s heart swell? Was that really so much to ask? Was it too much to expect that Regulus would have someone cherish him so much?

Lost in his musings, he almost didn’t hear the knock at the door, but it came again, harsher, insistent.

“Go away, Sirius!” he called.

“I’m not Sirius,” a quiet voice stated from the other side of the door.

Regulus narrowed his eyes—this voice, while unexpected, was not unwelcome. He heaved himself up from where he was burrowed against the open door of his balcony and strode over to the suite’s door, yanking it open to find Remus Lupin standing on the other side, bashfully, and thank the heavens, holding—

“Hot cocoa, with cinnamon,” Remus said. “I thought you could use some.”

Regulus snatched it from his hands and took a sip, feeling it warming his cold little heart.

“I’m not going to ask how you knew to add the cinnamon,” Regulus drawled.

“Ask me no questions and I shall tell you no lies,” Remus quipped with a wink.

Regulus stood back to allow Remus entry. He had no qualms with the tall, handsome bookworm who had stolen his brother’s heart (particularly not after the peace offering). Remus stood awkwardly with hands in the pockets of his worn brown corduroy trousers.

“You can sit down, you know,” Regulus said, gesturing towards the sofa.

Remus cleared his throat and walked over to sit down on the plush sofa, and Regulus sat opposite him, leaning against the armrest and crossing his legs like a pretzel as he faced Remus. He took another sip, running a tongue over his top lip to catch the whipped cream that was there. He waited in silence for Remus to explain what this was about. Remus cleared his throat again, clearly uncomfortably with the silence.

“I know it’s none of my business,” Remus began finally.

“Probably not,” Regulus said, looking at Remus out of the corner of his eyes.

“Blimey,” Remus muttered.

He swallowed, running a hand through his hair, forehead lightly sweating.

“Do I make you nervous, Remus Lupin?” Regulus asked.

“Frankly yes, you scare the shit out of me,” Remus admitted.

Regulus laughed out loud, not expecting such brutal honesty from the shy bloke across from him.

“But I’m here because I… care greatly…for your brother,” Remus began, “and because James is my friend.”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Yes, and?”

“And I think you’re being bloody unreasonable about the whole thing,” Remus said.

“Do you,” Regulus said flatly.

“Erm, yes?” Remus said. “First of all, I’m not sure how you can blame Sirius for wanting to get away from your family. He hasn’t told me much, and I’ve not met your parents, but I don’t have to in order to believe what he tells me. He’s an adult; he’s only been staying for you. He even offered you a place, Regulus—you choosing to stay behind is your decision, but it doesn’t have to be Sirius’s.”

Regulus was quiet. He sipped his cocoa again, disguising the swallowing of the lump in his throat. Remus cared about Sirius—this quiet man was here, calling out Regulus, sticking up for Sirius. Regulus was happy that Sirius found someone that made him willing to walk away from their parents. From him.

“Does Sirius know you’re here?”

“I told him I was going to talk to you,” Remus said. “He didn’t ask me to, so don’t get any ideas. Actually asked me not to, thought you might not take kindly to it, but—I like you Regulus. I think you’re intimidating, sure, but when you’re not being a cranky little shit, you’re quite fun. I think we could be friends. I’d like the chance to be, but I won’t be your friend if you can’t learn to stop blaming Sirius for being willing to have a life outside of you and your mental family.”

Regulus recoiled as if he had been slapped across the face.

“Merde,” he said. “You’re gone for him, aren’t you?”

Remus grinned for the first time. “Hopelessly.”

Regulus smiled back tentatively.

“Right then,” he said briskly. “Anything else?”

“Well, since you asked…” Remus began tugging at the hem of his (somewhat hideous) striped sweater.

Regulus narrowed his eyes again.

“Remus, we are on the unsteady ground of a new friendship. If you so much as mention—”

“I don’t think you’re being very fair to James,” Remus said.

“What did I just say?”

Remus held up his hand.

“Listen,” Remus said. “You didn’t know James before this trip. You didn’t see how he pined after Lily every day, the way he flirted with her when she came into the coffee shop. It was part of the routine—for him, but also, I think, for her.”

“You’re not helping his case, Lupin,” Regulus snapped.

“The point is, Black,” Remus said (rather pointedly, in fact), “it was never really going anywhere. It was part of the dance they did every day, but I think at a certain point James realized that it wasn’t going anywhere.”

“How long have you known James?” Regulus said.

Remus paused, seeming to consider this.

“Well,” he said carefully. “Not long. Not in the grand scheme of things, really. But as I’m sure you’ve realized, one doesn’t need to know James Potter for more than the course of an evening to really know him. He doesn’t play games, James doesn’t, and what you see is what you get. I imagine that after a lifetime of people saying one thing and doing the opposite, that’s part of his appeal for you.”

Regulus felt his jaw drop.

“You—” he sputtered. “I should like you to leave now.” He lifted his chin.

“Don’t think I will yet, thanks,” Remus said.

Remus Lupin was rather ballsy, it seemed.

“Regulus. If you had been fantasizing about someone for ages and the opportunity presented itself—and she initiated it, mind you—can you really fault the bloke for kissing her back? It’s not like you were officially together,” Remus said.

“As it seems no one’s personal lives are their own here, there doesn’t seem to be much point to me trying to refute that,” Regulus said, setting the now-empty cup on the table. “Not that I could anyway. You’re right; we weren’t. I suppose I thought it meant a good deal more than it did.”

“I wouldn’t be so quick to assume, Reggie,” Remus said, smirking as Regulus scowled at the nickname. Remus stood to leave. “Maybe you should think about giving him a chance. See you.”

And with that, Regulus was left, once more, to his own thoughts.

Think about giving him a chance, Remus had said.

As if Regulus had been doing anything else. He groaned, throwing his head back against the sofa.

Pretty much since the moment he’d seen James Potter, he had caught his mind wandering towards images of the two of them together, having some sort of life that involved talking and reading and laughing and other things that made Regulus blush to recall now. It was as if James were some sort of fitzcarraldo, the images lodged in his brain and cycling through on repeat—that they could somehow, in some life, be together.

*****

Orion and Walburga’s car had taken them to the airport early on, but Regulus had woken late and lingered overlong over his breakfast, hoping for the opportunity to say goodbye to Sirius before he didn’t see him for who knew how long. He’d stopped by Regulus’s room late the night before to let him know that he’d be leaving with James and Remus. Regulus had arranged a car to take him alone, hoping to avoid any interaction with James.

As Regulus’s luck—or lack, thereof—would have it, he was walking out front with his suitcase to see Remus and Sirius loading the boot of their car.

“Reg! You’re leaving now too? Excellent timing!” Sirius bounded over to him with a smile.

“Ready, lads?” a voice called.

Regulus stiffened at the voice coming from behind him, closing his eyes.

“Nearly there,” Remus called from where he was bent over the boot, rearranging the luggage. He stood, looking over to see the Brothers Black adjacent to James fucking Potter.

James came up alongside them, bringing that waft of citrus and sage with him, once again wearing that appalling orange jacket. James seemed to hesitate for a moment, his gaze sliding to meet Regulus’s. Regulus lifted his chin defiantly, inhaling heavily.

“Excuse me, you’re in my way,” he said haughtily, gesturing to where James was, indeed, blocking the shiny black car that had been sent for Regulus.

James froze, nodded once, and stepped aside.

“Right, then,” he said, not looking at Regulus again as he stepped away.

I don’t give a toss, Regulus thought.

I miss you more than I thought I would, Regulus thought.

“Jetombaisamoureuxdetoi,” he mumbled, whisper-soft, knowing full well that James couldn’t hear.

He heard a gasp, and his eyes slid over to meet Sirius’s wide grey ones, a heartbroken expression on his brother’s face.

“Jesuisdésolé,” Sirius mouthed, barely audible. His eyes searched Regulus’s for a moment, and Regulus nodded once, stiffly.

He watched Sirius and Remus climb into the car James had started, and once the doors were closed, they drove off into the distance, leaving Regulus alone once again.