Sad Beautiful Tragic
Saturday, December 20th, approx. 4:30pm, approx. £62,000 raised so far
James can admit when he’s really fucked up. It doesn’t happen often, so he never needs to, but he knows he can admit when he does.
Has he fucked up by, for all intents and purposes, asking Regulus up? Objectively, yes, yes he has, but to James? He’s practically won the lottery.
Regulus Black has agreed to go out with him. At a Christmas market. For some potential kissing, that can’t be confirmed or denied. How could James consider that as a fuck up, when, mere hours from now, he could be holding hands, kissing, the one and only, beautiful, Regulus Black.
However, Regulus still does technically count as the enemy. James knows that his parents believe he’s here to spy, and that he’s still working for them. Or not working for them, according to him, as he isn’t technically hired, but being paid by them and doing work for them. It’s a complicated system, one that Regulus was clearly hesitant to talk about. Knowing Starry Night, James could guess that was probably because whatever it was, it was illegal.
So really, these things should cancel out each other, and Regulus can be counted as a neutral person, James reasons.
James had first started doubting the date when he couldn’t find Regulus after the auction, which was wildly successful. It, and donations combined, has raised about £23,000, give or take. It was a fair amount- even Remus had commented on the success, truly making it a success. And today, so far, they’d made about £4,000, a good amount, but the day was almost over and the second day was guaranteed to do worse. James tried not to think about it too hard, which was easy, considering all his thoughts were on Regulus.
Will he show up earlier than the agreed upon 4:45? Later? What will they even do? James can’t exactly buy much for him- so far, the money has been used to pay all of their overdue bills, payments, and debts. It’s taken a lot. Right now, James has £10. Enough for a small trinket, he hopes, but he can’t count on it.
James doesn’t doubt that Regulus will show up, at least. He doesn’t seem like the type of man to stand someone up, although you can never be sure. He’s just glad that it’s managed to snow, making this dream that much more real.
“Earth to James?” Sirius says, waving his hand in front of James face. He hadn’t realised he was distracted, but that’s what Regulus can do to a man.
“Here. Yep. I’m here,” James responds, rubbing his eyes under his glasses to focus.
“Right. So you’re not thinking about anything else? Anyone else?” Sirius asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. Impulsively, James had told Sirius of his plans- it was Sirius, of course he did. He can’t say he regrets it, because it would be a lot harder to explain later, but he can’t say he’s happy about it either. James is sure Sirius is only being extra annoying because he thinks James locked Remus and him in the staircase, but that’s truly not the case- he really did just want to keep everyone else setting up away from the glass. Oh well.
“You know for a fact I am,” James agrees, which really isn’t the best comeback, but James can’t exactly deny it.
“Ew. Gross. Don’t get all sappy about my brother,” Sirius says, disgusted.
“Can you blame me? He’s so pretty,” James says, which only makes Sirius roll his eyes.
“We share the same genes. You’ve never called me pretty.” Sirius then pretends to sniffle, making James laugh.
“Yeah. Right. I’ve called you badass and handsome more times than we both have fingers and toes. I’m sure I’ve called you pretty, too.”
“Fair point. Thanks, wingman. I’m definitely not going to help with Regulus though, if that’s what you’re expecting from this friendship.”
“Don’t worry, man. I don’t need it. I’m naturally charming, as you know, and who’s he to resist that?”
“You’ve never seen him stubborn then, clearly. He’s very good at it.”
“Well, that’s his loss, then. I’m great.”
“That you are, James. Oh- speak of the devil,” Sirius says, looking behind James. James quickly turns around, looking at the approaching Regulus.
“Regulus!” He greets.
“Were you two talking about me?”
“Only bad things,” Sirius reassures him, earning him a glare.
“He’s lying- I didn’t say anything,” James quickly clarifies, because he isn’t entirely sure if Regulus will believe Sirius about that.
“That’s good. It’d be very unromantic for a first date,” Regulus says, catching James by surprise, and Sirius, too.
“Blah blah blah. Get out of here before I hear another gross thing,” Sirius says before pushing James out of the little wooden door of their shack thing.
“Are you sure you’ll be able to hold down the fort while I’m gone?” James asks, double checking.
“Of course. Now go right on, I don’t need a single other detail,” Sirius says, shooing them off.
James swiftly walks away, with Regulus following close behind.
“It’s not snowing,” Regulus points out, as James still works on putting a bit of distance between them and Sirius.
“Don’t worry. It will.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do. I’m magical in that way- it’s a gift, really.”
“Oh? Magical? I don’t think that’s what I signed up for.”
“It’s part of my amazing charm. This is exactly what you signed up for.”
As they continue wandering around the market, the sky continues to darken, turning from a 4:40 fairly sunny to a 5:30 twilight. The gradual is always cool to see to James, because he doesn’t notice the light fading, because of how busy he’s been talking to Regulus. If the sky just turned to night, he would notice immediately, but with Regulus preoccupying him, he doesn’t even notice it’s getting dark out until it does. Clearly, Regulus is magical too. It just makes sense, doesn’t it? And he really is pretty, in a way James has never seen on someone human before; this kind of beauty should be reserved for angels and faeries.
“So, is this your grand plan, then? To just walk me around a Christmas market, making light conversation?”
“I did have one idea, but it has to be both of us. I think he’d kill me if it was just me,” James says, after doing exactly that. Plus, he’s lying- he just came up with the idea, due to all the snow on the ground, but Regulus doesn’t have to know that.
“That sounds intriguing. Do tell,” Regulus encourages.
James laughs at that, a hearty quick burst, because it’s that ridiculous.
“Why are you laughing?”
“The idea, and your posh accent combined, it’s just so funny, that’s all,” James says, recovering.
“We’re both British, I don’t see what’s so unreasonable.”
This only makes James laugh more, because is he deaf?
“Reggie, we are vastly different types of British. I’ll admit, I have a less posh accent. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” James says, only laughing more at Regulus’ confused face.
“That’s…good to know, I guess, but what does this have to do with your idea?”
“It’s a bit of a childish idea. You wouldn’t expect Queen Elizabeth’s voice actor to be doing it, is all.”
“First of all, how dare you. I would be voicing Prince Henry. And secondly… please don’t make me rob something.”
“Rob something? Is that your idea of childish? No, of course we’re not robbing something, not near Christmas. My idea is to throw a few snowballs at Sirius and Remus.”
“Remus? Is he here?” Regulus inquires, ignoring the most important part.
“He showed up approximately 5 minutes after we left. Funny, isn’t that?”
James decides not to mention what he walked in on during the gala, because he isn’t entirely sure of it himself, and because it’s not his business to tell. According to Sirius, it was because of the mistletoe, but mistletoe doesn’t usually give people hickeys. James is certain about that. However, he doesn’t push too much. Sirius also mentioned that it wouldn’t happen again until Christmas morning, which was clearly a sore spot for him, not unlike the many of his lip and Remus’ neck.
“Extremely. I’m all for it. Do you think you’ll have customers, though?”
James shrugs. “Probably not. This is kind of a slow hour for us. We’ll be here again tomorrow, too, but that won’t be as fun.”
“Why not?”
“I won’t have something to look forward to all day,” James confesses.
Regulus suggests weakly, “The idea of saving your farm?”
“I don’t know…these past couple months have been pretty fun and exciting. I’ll be sad to see it all done with.”
“Sure, but you’ll also be able to pay your bills. That’ll be pretty fun and exciting, too,” Regulus points out.
“Good point. But I’d rather see you all the time and be broke, than never see you again and be the richest man alive.”
Regulus goes quiet for a moment. Great job, James, he thinks. Super casual date thing to say.
“You certainly know the way to compliment a guy, Potter,” Regulus replies, and James can’t help but feel like that’s a sign of their situation going backwards. “But…that could be arranged, I suppose.”
Or maybe not.
“Explain?” James requests, a little lost.
“I’m saying I’d be okay with seeing you again,” Regulus says, and James breathes a sigh of relief.
“Oh. That’s good. Same- I would like to see you again, too. After this all.”
“Thank goodness. I was a bit worried that I’d just said all of that for nothing.”
“Even if I didn’t respond, it wouldn’t have been for nothing,” James says simply.
“It would’ve.”
James just shrugs. He gets why it wouldn’t seem like such a huge deal to Regulus, but to James, love - or declarations, or admissions of it - aren’t ever for nothing.
“You ready to go throw snowballs?” James asks, perking back up.
“100%. I don’t think I’ve ever thrown one before.”
“No?”
“Maybe a few times at Hogwarts, but my aim wasn’t very good, and that was at least 7 years ago. It wasn’t exactly like I could practise at home, either. That was more of Sirius’ forte,” Regulus laughs.
“Oh, he was good at it, too,” James agrees. “He’s gotten me loads of times in the eyes.”
“Good thing you have the glasses,” Regulus says, looking at where they’re perched on his face. “When Sirius threw them at our parents, it just got in their eyes. And down their clothes. It was hilarious.”
“Man, I wish I could’ve seen their faces. That’s priceless.”
“Oh, it definitely came at a price, don’t get me wrong. They were not very happy about that, but hey, I’d say it was worth it,” Regulus gently corrects. James is glad he doesn’t specify what the price was, as his imagination is bad enough, and he doesn’t doubt Walburga and Orion would be worse.
They’ve circled back to the Potterly Trees stand by now, creeping behind other wooden shacks and dragging their feet through the snow. From what James can tell, it snowed yesterday, as the snow on the sides of the vendors and between them hasn’t become dirty yet but the main walkway has turned into a grey mush.
“Okay. We’re going to have to be discreet about this. Sirius will start to fire back, mark my words. I don’t know about Remus. He has this thing about unprofessionalism, so it might seem a bit childish to be throwing snowballs at your clients, but you never know. We have to be ready to throw a few, duck, and then run.”
“I can do that,” Regulus nods. “You just have to show me how to throw them. And form them. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t have much experience with these things.”
“Deal. Follow me.”
James leads them over to a small alleyway between 2 sheds opposite Potterly Trees, where Sirius stands inside, next to Remus as predicted.
“Is there enough snow here?” Regulus asks, looking around at the half metre of fluffy snow that is piled up in the alley. James grins.
“More than enough. Trust me. I’m the snowball master.”
“Well, oh wise snowball master, teach me your masterful ways,” Regulus plays along, picking up a handful of snow and tossing it in the air in James’ direction.
“Woah woah woah. Rule number one of snowball fights, no friendly fire. Trust me. You don’t want to have everyone pelting snowballs at you.”
“Okay, rule one down. What’s rule two?”
“You have to shape it. That way it has a chance of making it across the street. We also have to build a wall first, so get behind here and start piling.”
Surprisingly, Regulus does as instructed, getting next to James and helping him build up a wall of snow. He easily compacts the snow, making a small cover from one side of the shed next to them to the other shed. James is thankful both of their owners have gone home and locked up. It must be 5:30pm or so, so James supposes it’s fair.
“Has Sirius seriously not noticed yet?” Regulus ponders, as they finish the last bit of the small wall.
“I think he’s a bit distracted,” James chuckles, looking at Sirius, who’s in what seems to be in a deep conversation with Remus at that moment.
“Good point. Now, how would we build a snowball?”
“That’s a bit more complicated. First, you’re going to want to get some snow, then mould it into a ball by compacting it a lot,” James advises, getting a bit of snow for himself as Regulus does the same.
Regulus’ snow crumbles in his hands, and he gives James a confused look.
“Right. I should’ve mentioned- don’t press too hard. You should probably get more snow, too.”
Regulus tries again as James sets aside his perfect snowball, hitting it less and trying to contain the massive handful of snow he picked up.
“It’s still not working. I don’t know if your teaching skills are their best,” Regulus mutters, as his second snowball also disintegrates, although less disastrously than the first.
“Please; my snowball making teaching skills are the best of the best. Clearly, it’s your listening skills with the issue. Come closer- I’ll show you.”
Regulus seems a bit confused, but holds his hands out nevertheless, while James gets a fairly decent pile of snow out from beneath him.
“See, this is a good amount,” he demonstrates, plopping it down into Regulus’ outstretched palm.
“Great. What now?”
“Well you just kind of…” James makes a few vague hand movements, before rolling his eyes, and cupping his hands around Regulus’. “Is it fine if I show you like this?”
Regulus is speechless for a second, feeling James’ hands near his own, but remembers after a few tense seconds to respond. “Sure- sure, yeah, go ahead. Whatever you need to do.”
James then brings Regulus hands together, forming them together in such a way so that no snow leaks out of them, but that it’s still secure and has pressure. James then removes one of his hands, turns the snowball, and repeats the process a few times.
The snowball turns out well enough, if not a bit rough around the edges, but enough for James to be enthusiastic about. He helps him make a couple more, before eventually returning to his own pile, and before they know it they each have about a dozen, well-made snowballs.
James looks over them, taking stock of their accomplishment. “Well done,” he approves. “Now, to throw them. I’m going to stand back here, you try to throw one at me.”
Regulus picks one up, closes one eye to aim, and throws with all his might. To both of their surprise, it hits James straight in the chest, almost knocking the wind out of him.
“Good arm,” James wheezes. Regulus looks dumbstruck, looking at his own arm in bewilderment.
“Thanks…not sure where it came from, but it’s handy,” Regulus replies unsurely.
“It will definitely be useful,” James agrees, heading back while hacking as quietly as possible. “You think you’re ready?”
“As I’ll ever be,” Regulus says.
“Relax. It’s just a nice, calm, snowball fight. No biggie,” James reassures him. “Now, on your mark…”
“Get set…” Regulus continues, proving he is ready.
“Throw!” James yells, making Sirius look away from Remus in surprise, right in time to get 2 snowballs straight to the face.
Sirius yelps, clearing his eyes quickly and looking around for the culprits. James and Regulus, giggling messes, bring up another handful and pelt a few more at him before he narrows in on them.
“James Fleamont Potter! Regulus Arcturus Black!” He yells, charging out of the shack door and towards them. James, who has just realised this might not have been the best idea, easily scoops up his remaining snowballs and drags Regulus through the other end of the small alley, hoping that the wall and few snowballs he pelts at Sirius will slow him down.
“Fleamont is your middle name?” Regulus asks, as they’re in the middle of sprinting away. James nods, before turning around to check if Sirius has followed them yet. He has, because he went through a different gap.
“Yep! Yours is Arcturus?”
“Yeah. Star names count for the middle too, apparently!”
James spots another small alleyway and drags Regulus through it, back onto another street, this one more busy. James pushes through the crowd, scattering “excuse mes” and “pardons” while Regulus follows him. As they come to the end of it, James looks behind him, luckily to see Sirius looking confused and searching above the crowd.
“I think we’ve lost him for now,” James says, pulling Regulus down another small alleyway and onto a less crowded street.
Regulus, the maniac, bursts into laughter.
James is a bit shocked to hear Regulus’ laugh- his real, authentic one. He’s heard Regulus laugh before, sure, but it’s clear this one is his real laugh. What’s crazy about it is that it’s loud. Very loud. James didn’t expect that, but it’s a beautiful laugh. Very hearty, one that practically has joy bubbling over it. Regulus is doubled over, clutching his stomach, his whole body shaking, and for a second James is worried he’s crying, before Regulus lifts his head, his eyes shining brightly, still laughing.
If this was after a normal prank, James would’ve told him to keep it down to avoid being caught, but he doesn’t have the heart to do so seeing how happy Regulus is.
Eventually, he does recover, and wiping his eyes says, “That was absolutely exhilarating.”
“Really?”
“Gosh, yes,” he laughs. “Is this how you felt after every time you all pulled your pranks?”
“Every time,” James confirms. “It’s all the adrenaline.”
Regulus nods. “Incredible. Now I get why you did one just about every week.”
“They were pretty fun,” James agrees. “I certainly couldn’t get enough of them.”
Regulus laughs again, dwindling down from the high it was before, before looking at James oddly.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?” James asks, oblivious.
“Like…I don’t know how to describe it, okay? But you are.”
James looks at him with confusion, then understands it. Regulus’ pale cheeks are flushed from the cold and the run, the laughter helping. His head is messy, and his black curls are dotted with snowflakes. Even his eyelashes, bordering pale blue eyes, have a few snowflakes in them. James can’t help but stare, and that’s when he gets it. He’s looking at Regulus like he’s in love.
“You’re beautiful,” James says breathlessly, not even bothering to stop looking at him like that.
“So I’ve been told,” Regulus says. “You are, too, though. So beautiful.”
James just smiles at him, and as he’s looking, he notices the small flurries floating down from the sky.
“Is that snow?” Regulus questions, looking at the sky, confused.
“It’s snowing,” James murmurs in response, immediately joining him in looking, and sticking his tongue out to catch a few snowflakes.
“Just like you said it would. You were right,” Regulus admits. James takes a closer look at all the surroundings; the soft, warm glow from local shacks. The snow falling, getting caught on Regulus’ messy hair. Regulus. Regulus and James, in this setting.
“If I remember correctly, I predicted something else would happen,” James says softly, moving a bit closer to Regulus, who has gone still.
“I think you do remember correctly,” Regulus agrees, turning towards him.
“Can I?”
“Please.”
James takes the invitation, moving towards Regulus and grasping one of his gloved hands with his own, and cupping his face with his other hand. Regulus responds with equal enthusiasm, tilting his head up so his lips catch James’, and parting them ever so slightly as he holds James’ waist, bringing them closer together as the snow falls around them.
It’s magical, James decides. He’s never kissed anyone like this before. The snow falling around them is magical. The entire night has been magical. Regulus is magical. It’s the only logical conclusion.
Eventually, James remembers he has to breathe, so he regrettably has to pull away.
“What’s wrong? Was that too much?” Regulus asks, suddenly wary, but James just takes a deep breath and goes in for more. Regulus seems surprised by this, but by no means disappointed. If the movement of his tongue and lips are anything to go by, that is.
“Never. Never too much,” James responds, as he comes up for air again.
“Okay. That’s good,” Regulus agrees.
They’re unfortunately broken apart by the large snowball that wacks into the very spot where Regulus’ tongue has just entered James’ mouth.
“What the fuc-” Regulus exclaims, breaking away immediately, and turning toward the very shocked, but triumphant Sirius.
“You’re confused?” Sirius sputters, looking between the two with an odd mix of emotions displayed on his face.
“I don’t know why you’d be confused,” James says to him. “I’ve been telling you this was going to happen since the gala.”
“I thought you were joking! I didn’t imagine you’d actually snog my baby brother!”
Honestly, James wasn’t entirely sure either, but boy is he glad he did end up doing it in just the perfect way. So as a response, he just shrugs, while Regulus laughs more.
“Good luck then, mate,” Sirius sighs, clearly realising his input doesn’t change much in the relationship.
“I don’t think he’ll need it,” Regulus says, pulling James by the front of his coat closer to his to give him a small peck. This makes Sirius pretend to belch, and leave them be, shaking his head the entire way back to the Potterly Trees stand.
“Do you believe in Christmas magic yet?” James asks, after another 20 minutes or so of more snogging and other things that have no place somewhere family friendly.
“I won’t confirm or deny it,” Regulus replies. But, in his heart, using his Christmas magic, James can guess what Regulus’ answer is.
_______________________________________
Saturday, December 20th, approx. 9:00pm
Regulus doesn’t go straight back to his apartment. Rather, after eventually leaving the market, Regulus just walks around, taking in the beauty of the falling snow and trying to memorise every moment of this night.
James. He wants to memorise James, he realises. His friends were right all along, which is a bit embarrassing, but there was always that tiny part of him that knew, wasn’t there? He knows there was. Since he was a teenager, in those classes he shared with him, always finding James’ eyes and not minding them like he would anyone else’s. James was just like that. Magical, one could say.
The train ride back to London is a bit boring, but Regulus sits in the back, his head against the cool window, thinking of James the entire time. James. James, James, James, and James again. His mind is constantly on repeat.
However, the subway does eventually arrive in Knightsburg, breaking Regulus out of the little winter trance he’d been in the entire journey, the entire evening, even. James’ taste is starting to fade a bit from his mouth, which isn’t helping matters, either.
The walk back to his apartment isn’t a long one normally, not by any means, but again, Regulus just takes his time again, appreciating the soft snow falling and the gathering piles of fluff he keeps accidentally stepping in. Once, he even scooped a pile of it and tried to form a snowball, but it felt emptier than it should’ve without James there to throw it with him.
He gets back to his flat at around 10:00, due to all the detours and waiting and time wasting in general. This shouldn’t be an issue- he’ll shower, brush his teeth, and slip into bed and be up in time for breakfast.
He runs into one complication when he arrives. His parents, sitting in the living room, knees, arms, and attitudes cross.
“Regulus,” his mother greets, her voice more icy than the weather, sending chills down Regulus’ spine.
“Mother,” he responds, his voice choking a bit on the sudden, unbridled fear that’s bubbling up inside him. “Father.”
“How was your mission?” Orion asks. “Do, sit, tell us everything. Spare no detail.”
Regulus does as instructed, even though it’s his flat, and his furniture, and his own decision. In so many ways, it’s not, not really.
“Well, they’re doing well. They’re probably only about £5,000 from £350,000,” Regulus can honestly answer. If they have £62,000, according to the large christmas tree, and they’ve sold out, and they make £3,000 tomorrow, that is.
“Despite your many attempts to ruin them?”
“Well, they seem to be immune to that. Don’t forget, Father, that leaves them 4 days or so to come up with the other £5,000.”
Realistically, Regulus knows they won’t make it. And it hits him like a punch to the gut after tonight, because how could a man so lovely and magical miss out on a Christmas miracle? It doesn’t seem fair.
“Yes. I expect that will be difficult. Is James working hard, then?”
The mention of James makes Regulus’ blood run cold. Still, he holds his composure, trying to not let his voice give away his lie. “Probably. I wouldn’t know for sure.”
“Really? Wouldn’t you?”
Regulus learned from Sirius that sometimes, no response is the best response. No matter what you answered, you’d be in trouble for it, and not answering gave them a certain kind of power they loved.
“You know, you weren’t the only one of ours at that Christmas market,” his mother mentions, as if she’s discussing the weather. It’s always been a special talent of hers, making something that is clearly about to do something disastrous seem so calm. Who was it, then? Lucius, his cousin in law? Or maybe it was Severus Snape, someone Regulus never really knew if he could trust.
“That makes sense,” Regulus says. “It was a very nice market, with many opportunities for gifts and such.”
“Yet you come back with none.”
Regulus had thought about it, with his credit card that was basically limitless, but James only had £10 that he spent on a little trinket for Regulus, so Regulus didn’t want to be smug about how much better his family’s business was doing. He just bought him an ornament with a Christmas tree for the same price.
Regulus shrugs passively. “I wasn’t aware we were in the tradition of exchanging gifts.”
“Not with us, but surely with your friends?”
“I’ve already done all my shopping,” Regulus says, another truth. They are neatly wrapped, sitting in one of his guest rooms. The rest of the flat, however, in terms of neatness, can’t be guaranteed. Their last visit was last Sunday. Regulus has had a week to do no tidying up, and even having them in his living room, his apartment, feels intrusive. He hates it. He hates that they’re intruding on this one part of himself that he has to himself. He was okay with it when it was clean, because that’s why it was clean. It kept the flat separate from being his flat when they visited.
“Ah. Yet you arrive so late, so there must have been something at that market that was occupying you. Were you running through the streets, perhaps? Galavanting around with anyone? Playing silly jokes?”
Theyknow. It’s not merely a coincidence now, something Regulus could brush off. They know. It’s a warning, repeating over and over in his mind. They know. They know about James. They know everything about it all.
This is another moment it’s wiser for Regulus not to respond.
Walburga then pulls out her phone, of all things, slowly and deliberately clicking a few things on it before stopping at something. Regulus can’t see it well. There’s only a few lights in here, and the only thing illuminating her face - something he usually uses to help him gauge an appropriate response - at the moment is her phone screen as it flashes different colours.
“Tell us, Regulus,” Orion says, looking over at his wife’s phone with a look of pure disgust, “did you think of us as you betrayed us? Maybe you thought of your brother, the traitor, as well. Did you think of what was important here when you kissed James?”
Walburga shoves the phone at him then, a blurry, but clear picture of Regulus’ face smushed against James’ in what can only be interpreted as what it was. Their embrace is obvious, and as Walburga painstakingly scrolls through a small series of photos, Regulus realises it only becomes more and more apparent what happened. Whoever took them didn’t just take one and leave. They made sure Regulus was clearly incriminated.
“I-” Regulus isn’t even sure what he’d say, but he wants to defend himself in some way. Take back all of the night’s happiness and magic from these revealing photos and give it back to himself, and to James, as he didn’t know it could so easily be stolen.
“What would you even say to defend yourself, Regulus?”
Regulus read once that people with power use names to demonstrate inferiority. It’s why a king is called Your Majesty, rather than just Henry, and why parents are called Mum and Dad, not their real names. To show you they’re above you. He can feel that happening now, with his parents constantly saying Regulus, like a reminder that he’s the one who’s in the wrong here. Some strange, twisted part of him wonders if it’s to set him apart from Sirius.
Again, Regulus doesn’t respond. He refuses to be seen as weak.
“Our little spy was there a long time, Regulus.”
“How long?” He asks, because he has to. He has to know. He has to know how much they heard, what they heard, how bad the damage is. Can he fix this? He needs to fix this.
“Long enough. He heard you calling each other beautiful. Why would anyone, least of all a Potter, lie to you like that?”
“James meant it,” Regulus quietly defends. His parents can’t hurt him, not this time, not physically.
“Oh, you really believe that, don’t you? You believe him? What reason would you have to do that?”
“He’s kind. Kinder than you,” Regulus says, because now he’s angry, angry that they’d say that to their own son, angry that they can’t see James like he can, angry that they believe James would do that.
“Kind people don’t want people like you, Regulus,” his mother softly says, like she’s comforting him and not insulting him.
“He wanted Sirius,” Regulus points out.
“He wanted Sirius because he thought he could fix him. It didn’t work, so he’s moved on to you, instead. That’s all there is to this.”
“Sirius had nothing to fix,” Regulus whispers, to the darkness that he knows his parents sit in. Oh, how he hates the darkness. It scares him. Not the absence of light, but the absence of knowing what’s in the darkness. He feels blind without it, but in a way, it empowers him. This is easier when he can’t see who he’s disgracing.
“Look at him, defending Sirius,” Orion spits out, talking to Walburga.
“It only makes sense. Clearly, they’re the same. They’ve corrupted him,” Walburga says back. Regulus can imagine her sneer oh so easily.
“I haven’t been corrupted by anyone. James wouldn’t do that,” Regulus insists.
Walburga sighs loudly. “How many times do we have to tell you, he would. He would to you, because it’s easy for people like him.”
Technically, it is James’ fault Regulus is the way he is, but that was before they’d ever had a real conversation, so he doesn’t mention that.
“You would.”
“Regulus, we’d never.”
“You did to Sirius. I saw you, and I heard you, and Sirius has told me himself.”
“Sirius was corrupted just the same. He just wouldn’t admit it. You still can. You can save yourself, admit it.”
“Admit what?”
“Admit that James is too good for you.”
What a dangerous new angle for them to take. Regulus figured they had meant he could save himself from them by admitting what he was, not that he would have to save himself from James. It’s sad that this is the sentence that breaks him. Not them insulting James’ character, because he simply wouldn’t believe it. But this quick switch-up of them insulting him is much easier to believe.
“You just said he was bad,” Regulus meekly remembers.
“And you aren’t?”
Maybe they still can physically hurt him, because those words feel like a punch to the stomach.
“Come now, you can’t be that surprised. Think of all you’ve done. You’ve helped us take down a family Christmas tree farm.”
Only on your instructions, Regulus thinks, remembering the loitering and light harassment, but they continue.
“You did nothing when your brother was kicked out. We’re happy about that, believe us, but you constantly feel so guilty for things to the point it’s incredibly annoying.”
You’d think they’d appreciate that one more, instead of just insulting me, Regulus thinks, bringing back his sarcastic bite at least in his mind. He can’t make his mouth move at the moment.
“And your only friends now work for us, because you never made any of your own.”
What the fuck. See, now this has just turned into an insult session, one that Regulus is losing massively but can’t defend himself from. He doesn’t understand how they know him so well, yet not at all. He had friends in Hogwarts. Some acquaintances, like Barty and Evan. Plus, Pandora is technically a contractor for them. So there. It’s still pitiful. Maybe Marlene could count as a friend?
“Regulus, your life is sad, and we control the only good parts. Why would you want to give it all up for just someone, much less a man?”
Jamesis a good part, he reminds himself, but he’s slowly losing the battle. James is a good part, but Regulus isn’t. Not of James’ life. He’s probably just caused him trouble is all. So why would he want to keep him around, then? Spend all this time with him? Maybe his parents are right, and it’s all for the money and he’s a spy.
James wouldn’t. He wants to hold on to that thought forever, and the decreasing part of him that’s trying to scream it, but he can’t. Not here, in this messy flat that has his parents in it. It’s a contradiction, just like he and James are. Were. They’re going to have to be a brief blip in time, never to be seen again. A mistake, but calling something so beautiful that seems wrong. A freak accident. Just like Regulus is.
“It’s up to you to decide, of course,” Orion adds, although it never truly was. “You’re an adult now.”
If he truly had free will, he’d call the police, and have them tried for trespassing or breaking and entering. But he doesn’t. Not truly.
“Goodbye, Regulus,” Walbruga says, yawning. Regulus can hear her stand up. He can’t wait for them to be out of his flat. “We hope we’ll see you tomorrow, and that you will delete that boy’s number. It’s the best option for all of us.”
It wouldn’t even make a difference if he did, as he has it memorised, but that’s not the best thing to mention at the moment.
“Don’t cry over him,” instructs Orion, as he’s leaving. Regulus hasn’t cried in front of them in years. He’s hardly cried in years, but he knows they mean this as an insult. A reference to his sexuality, and apparent inherent weakness that comes from that.
Once they leave, Regulus immediately locks the door, and curls up in a ball on his bedroom floor. He loves curling into balls- they make him feel safe, and secure, and hidden, most of all. It’s comforting. He does end up crying, because he’s only human.
He also ends up blocking James, because he can’t risk James texting him again. He knows himself well enough to know that he’ll respond, and instantly lose all of his resolve. In his haste, he doesn’t even bother to block Sirius.
They’ll both understand, after a while. They’ll realise he can’t be saved, that he isn’t worth it. It won’t even be that hard to believe that he’s chosen the wrong side, and that’s the funnest part of all. It won’t be a shock. James will get over him, Sirius will cast him out completely, and as always, Regulus will end up utterly alone.