Chapter 2
After staying out so late the night before, James plans on sleeping in the next morning and missing breakfast, however, his friends have a different idea.
Flinging open the curtains of James’ bed, Sirius leaps onto James’ sleeping body. It’s a miracle his flailing limbs miss James’ face as he sits straight up in shock. “Merlin’s beard, Sirius!” James cries, recognizing the weight on his lap. “What was that for?”
He wiggles around until Sirius’ messy curls no longer tickle his nose but doesn’t attempt to push Sirius away. Sirius is a massive cuddler and gets pouty if he doesn’t cuddle with someone every morning. He often sneaks into Remus’ bed, but now and then, he craves James’ attention.
"What took you so long last night?" Sirius mumbles into James' chest.
Remus sits on the edge of James' bed and folds his legs under his body. "We waited up for you for about thirty minutes. What happened?"
Anticipation thrums through James’ veins and a smile crawls across his face. When he returned to the dorm, he wanted to tell his friends about meeting Eros, but it was too late, and everyone was already asleep. Now is the perfect time to gush about the man of James’ dreams.
Remus catches on first. His hands fly to his mouth. "You met someone?" he asks through his fingers.
James nods, unable to fight his smile even if he wants to. Thinking of Eros is enough to cause a floaty feeling in James' stomach.
Sirius sits up, straddling James' chest before leaning close to James' face, almost eye to eye. "You're serious?"
"No, that's you," James retorts.
Sirius waves away his favorite joke, too focused on James' love life. "Don't joke at a time like this! Who did you meet? You danced with everyone before we left."
"I ran into him - literally - as I was about to leave the Great Hall. I don't know how to describe it—the second we touched, the world made sense. I knew he was the one for me immediately. We danced for a while and then went for a walk outside. And I kissed him beside the Black Lake." James trails off, remembering the feel of Eros' lips on his. He needs to stop talking, or he will get too excited - not the best thing to happen when one of your best friends is sitting on your lap.
Sirius swoons into Remus' arms. "That is so romantic! Who is he?"
The smile slips from James' face. "I don't know," he admits.
"What does that mean?" Remus questions.
"I don't know who he is," James repeats.
"Merlin's Balls, Prongs," Sirius exclaims, "how did you fuck up so badly you didn't even get the guy's name?" He wacks James on the top of the head.
Ducking Sirius’ hand, James says, "It wasn't my fault! He wouldn't tell me who he was. He said it was better never to see each other after last night."
"But you kissed him?" Remus says. "And he kissed back, right?" James nods. "Why would he kiss you if he knew nothing would come of it?"
James shrugs. "He told me to call him Eros. I think his costume was a god or something. He also said -" James falters, unsure if he wants to share Eros' love confession with his friends. It was an intimate moment between them.
"What?" Sirius grips James' sleep shirt and tugs him closer until their noses touch. "He said what? What did he say, James? I need to know!"
Remus wrangles his hysteric boyfriend out of James' personal space. "Padfoot, chill. Give James room to breathe."
"We don't have time for him to breathe! I need to know everything!"
James scoots until his back hits the headboard of his bed. A small giggle escapes him before he can stop it. "Okay. I'll tell you everything, even though there isn't much to hear. I bumped into Eros, we danced, he confessed his love to me, we kissed at the Black Lake, and then he ran from me. But he left this." James reaches under his pillow and extracts the gold silk Eros wore around his eyes to conceal his identity.
"What is this?" Remus reaches for the silk, and James hands it over. Remus runs the fabric scrap through his hands, inspecting it.
"It was part of Eros' costume. He dropped it when he ran. I brought it with me because I thought maybe Remus could find a tracking spell we could use to find him."
"Why just Remus?" Sirius pouts.
James rubs his shoulder. "You're my best friend, Pads, but we both know Remus is the only one of us who is going to spend time researching in the library."
"Well, yeah, but you could have asked me anyway."
"I'm sorry. Sirius, do you know of a tracking spell, or will you help me research one?"
"No, I don't - actually," Sirius holds a finger to James' lips even though he isn't talking. "I do know something that could -"
"Oh, Remus," James smacks Sirius' hand away. "We don't need the spell. I almost forgot - when Eros and I were, um, doing stuff,"
"I'm sure it was just "stuff,"" Sirius snorts.
"Shut up," Remus orders.
"When Eros and I were doing stuff, I noticed a distinct mark on his thighs."
"Like a birthmark? A tattoo?"
"Scars," James answers.
"Scars?" Remus repeats.
"On the tops of his thighs -"
"Merlin's saggy balls, James," Sirius exclaims. "You saw his thighs? What the hell did you two do at the lake? Fuck?"
"He was wearing a skirt. Get your mind out of the gutter. Anyway, Eros has little circular scars all over his thighs. They're not very noticeable unless you're really close."
Sirius' eyes widen. "James, describe the scars again."
"I don't know what else to say. They're pale and look like little circles."
"Oh, no," Sirius moans.
Remus soothingly rubs his back. "What's wrong, Pads?"
"Uh, nothing," Sirius says too quickly. "Nothing's wrong!" Leaning on his stomach, he reaches under James’ bed, rifling through the wooden trunk James stashed there for the Invisibility Cloak. When he finds the cloak, he bunches it up and shoves it in his pants pocket.
"Why do you need the cloak?" James asks.
"I got to go do something."
"Do what? It's a Saturday."
"What's with all the questions?" Sirius screams as he scrambles over Remus to get off the bed. "I don't need an interrogation!" He's out the door before James or Remus can get their bearings.
"What's up with him?" James asks.
Remus shrugs. "Merlin only knows. It's Sirius. He's always dramatic."
"True." James slings an arm around Remus and drags him backward onto the bed. "So, about Eros..." Remus lays beside James, listening to him - not for the first time - wax poetry about the love of his life.
…
Sirius waits outside the Slytherin dorms until a first-year student arrives, lurking under the Invisibility Cloak so no one notices him. He springs from the dark and points the tip of his wand at the first year’s neck. “Stay quiet,” he hisses in their ear, deepening his voice so they don’t recognize him.
"Who are you?" The first year asks, shaking like a leaf in Sirius’ arms.
Guilt forms a ball in Sirius’ stomach. Threatening people is his parents' forte. The last thing Sirius ever wants to do is be anything like Walburga and Orion Black.
This is necessary, though. Sirius has to see his brother. Regulus refuses to give Sirius the Slytherin common room password even though Sirius alerts Regulus every time the prefects change the Gryffindor password. It’s just not fair.
Sirius is stuck waiting until Regulus leaves his dorm - which can be until the following Monday when classes resume - or breaking into the Slytherin dorm. Sirius chooses the second option.
"Who I am is information you don't need to know. You're going to enter your common room as usual, alert no one to my presence, and then lead me to Regulus Black's room. You will leave me there and go about your day as normal. You will tell no one of this encounter. If you do, I will find you, and you will wish I would kill you instead of what I would do." The threat rolls off Sirius' tongue, leaving a rancid taste in his mouth.
The first-year nods and whispers the password so low Sirius can't hear. The common room is no different than the handful of times Sirius has snuck in with the Marauders for a prank on the slimy Slytherins. They used to pull a prank on the Slytherins weekly until they got smart enough to whisper the password every time so the Marauders wouldn't know how to get in.
It worked. They haven't pranked the Slytherins in months. Sirius should set off a dung bomb or two on his way out. It would help cover his exit, and he has a few emergency dung bombs in his pockets. He always does. You never know when you might need to set off a dung bomb to cover your ass after a spontaneous prank. Or when you've eaten all of your boyfriend's chocolate, and he is hunting for you.
Sirius keeps his wand on the first-year's neck as they walk to the boy's dorms. They stop in front of one of the rooms. "Here you go. Regulus Black's room. Can I go now?"
Sirius drops his wand to his side. "You may leave. Remember what I told you."
The first year dips their head in understanding and escapes.
Sirius opens the door, staying hidden under the cloak until he’s sure the room is empty except for Regulus. It is. Regulus’ dormmates, Evan, Barty, and one other person Sirius doesn’t know the name of, must be out causing trouble in the castle.
Regulus is relaxing on his bed, lying on his stomach with a thick, dusty potion book propped against a pillow in front of him with his legs in the air, his ankles crossed. Admiring the scene for a moment, Sirius hesitates to interrupt his brother. It isn’t often he has the pleasure of seeing Regulus relaxed and at home.
Regulus’ demeanor changes when he looks up, taking note of the open door and empty doorway. He slides off the bed, and his wand is in his hand before his feet ever touch the floor. "Who's there? I'm not afraid to hex you! If this is Evan or Barty trying to scare me, I will hide house elf shit in your pillows when you least expect it!"
Sirius yanks the cloak off and bunches it into a ball. "Merlin's balls, Reg! Chill, would you?" He steps into the room and closes the door behind him. "It's just me."
Regulus sighs in relief before sitting back on his bed, dropping his wand beside him, but keeping it within easy reach. Although he no longer feels the need to have his wand for protection when his older brother is around, he still isn’t comfortable being defenseless.
In the past, Regulus would have hexed Sirius’ balls off for daring to come within fifteen feet of him, but now, after extensive chats about their emotions and other sappy shit, they can have one or two civil conversations a week. “What are you doing here?” he asks, not pleased to have his space invaded by an outsider, even if this one is related to him. “How are you here? I didn’t tell you the password.”
Sirius smirks. "I have my ways," he says secretively.
"Whatever. Why are you bothering me?"
"Who says I'm bothering you? Maybe I'm here for one of your dormmates. Rosier is quite dashing. Perhaps I'm here to make my move on him."
"Your boyfriend wouldn't like that," Regulus points out, deadpan. “And neither would Evan’s.”
Sirius frowns. "Oh, shit. You're right. Well, I already came all of this way. I don't want to waste the trip, so I guess I'll just have to hang out with you for a few minutes."
Hiding a smile, Regulus pats the bed beside him. “Well, don’t just stand there like an idiot. Sit down and tell me why you’re here.”
After Sirius lays on Regulus’ bed he places his wand on the blanket before him to show Regulus he means no harm. Their parents’ abuse traumatized them in different ways. Sirius has a hard time believing anyone can love him for who he is while Regulus trusts people too quickly sometimes but tends to think every person he doesn’t know has a secret vendetta against him and wants to cause him harm.
They’ve both found ways to combat their trauma reactions. Regulus reassures Sirius he loves him - in his insulting way - and Sirius never keeps his wand on his person or out of Regulus’ sight when they are alone.
"I know," Sirius says.
Regulus' brain screeches to a halt. There are so many things Sirius could be claiming to know. That time when Regulus was eight and used Sirius' toy broomstick without permission, broke it and blamed it on Kreacher, or that time Regulus and Remus kissed after Sirius fucked up with some prank he pulled in his fifth year, or that Walburga has plans for Regulus to take the Dark Mark the summer before his seventh year.
"You know what?" Regulus asks, cautious.
"About you and James," Sirius says, watching Regulus' face intently. Regulus is a fantastic actor, but Sirius grew up with him; he knows his brother's tells.
"You've known Potter and I despise each other for years, Sirius. Our hatred for each other is hardly worth such dramatics."
There it is. Regulus' eyebrows slightly shift when he's stressed. Anyone else would have missed it.
"This morning, James started raving about this amazing man he fell in love with last night at the dance. He told Remus and me all about how this man - Eros, I think he called him - confessed his undying love and then said they could never be together. I was devastated for my best friend until James mentioned one teeny, tiny detail. Do you want to know what that little tidbit of information was, Regulus?"
"I do not," Regulus says tersely.
"He mentioned that he saw scars along the top of that man's thighs. Specifically circular scars. Does that description sound familiar to you?"
Regulus' hands clench in the fabric covering his thighs. "No, it does not. You need to leave, Sirius."
Narrowing his eyes at Regulus, Sirius sits up, leaving centimeters between their bodies.
"I know it's you. I knew it the second James described your scars. You can't deny it because I was the one who bandaged your fucking legs when Walburga cursed you. I didn't know any healing magic at that age, so I did my best with dirty rags and string. It's a miracle you didn't get an infection and lose your legs." Regulus stays quiet.
"You know I love you, Reg," Sirius whispers. "I also love James. I would kill anyone who hurts either of you. Right now, you're hurting him." Sirius' fingers trace his wand, prepared to use it if needed. Regulus doesn't miss the subtle threat. Sirius would never cause lasting harm to his brother, but he has no qualms with hexing Regulus into oblivion if he’s hurting James on purpose. James is as much Sirius’ brother as Regulus is and he will defend either one until the day he dies. He’d curse James too if he ever willingly hurt Regulus.
"You're ridiculous," Regulus' voice shakes. He's holding back tears. "Potter doesn't even know who I am."
"He knows he's in love with you."
"Potter is a stupid boy who fell in love with a mask," Regulus hisses. "He's so desperate for love that he fell for the first person to give him the goddamned time of day."
"That isn't true. James had people throwing themselves at him all night. He rejected every one of them because none of them were suitable. He said the second he met you, he knew.
"Potter is full of bullshit."
Sirius sighs, frustrated. It's always been like pulling teeth to get Regulus to open up about anything. He won't even tell someone what his favorite food is out of fear someone will use it against him. His hesitance isn't his fault. It's Walburga's.
"At least answer this: did you tell the truth? Do you love him?"
Regulus yearns to deny the accusation because lying about his feelings for James Potter would make Regulus' life so much simpler. However, lying isn't an option. Regulus could deny his attraction to James until he's blue in the face, but Sirius would always know the truth. "Yes," he says after a lengthy pause. "I do."
"How long?"
"Since my fourth year."
"That's two years, Reg. Two years and you never said anything. Why?"
Regulus stands and paces the length of his bed. He's never been able to stay still when he is agitated; he’s much like his brother in that regard. "Because what good could come from me saying something, Sirius? James Potter was in love with Lily Evans, end of the story."
"Except it wasn’t. Lily started dating Mary, and James got over her. You had a chance."
"Our family's madness is hitting you earlier than expected if you truly believe that," Regulus scoffs.
"I must be mad then because it's true."
"Potter would never go for me. Even if he did, Mother and Father would never allow it. I'm not like you. I don't have the chance to run away and escape our family. I'm stuck there - where they expect me to be straight and a supporter of You-Know-Who. I'm neither. If they find out, they'll kill me. A romance with James Potter could never survive past the walls of Hogwarts. I don't want to try just for it to end in a few months. My heart can't take losing another person I love."
Regulus doesn't regret his word choice when Sirius looks away in shame. He may have forgiven Sirius, but his brother still abandoned him.
"It could. You think you don't have a choice regarding our parents and You-Know-Who, but you do. Dumbledore will help you. So will the Marauders and Effie and Monty. You're not alone."
"Sirius," Regulus says slowly, fed up with his brother's bullshit, "I said no. No to your useless help and no to James fucking Potter. Last night was a mistake."
"Please, just think about it," Sirius begs.
"I have. I’ve been thinking about it since I was fourteen years old.”
“Then why did you go to the dance? Why would you do that if you knew you would never date James? Why torture him like that? Why torture yourself? You claim not to be a bad person, Reg, but it’s times like these, that I genuinely wonder if you are.” Sirius doesn’t mean those words, but he’s angry and desperate to hurt Regulus as much as Regulus inadvertently hurt James… and maybe the tough love will make Regulus see reason.
The pure, unadulterated rage on Regulus’ face strikes fear deep in Sirius’ heart. Regulus’ fingers twitch as if he longs to summon his wand and curse Sirius dead. Regulus may not be a bad person, but anyone is capable of terrible things when provoked.
"I never expected Potter to reciprocate my feelings,” he admits. “ I planned to attend the dance late, skulk around the edges, look at Potter from afar, and then leave. He didn't follow the script."
Sirius shakes his head sadly. Once Regulus makes his mind up, it is impossible to change it. "Alright. I see that I can't convince you otherwise. I'll take my leave now."
"You had better not tell Potter it was me. He needs to get over Eros and move on."
Sirius tosses the Invisibility Cloak over his head and checks that his feet aren’t sticking out (the Invisibility Cloak seems a lot smaller now than it did in his first year) before he opens the door. As he does, Barty and Evan stumble into the room, tripping over one another. Sirius ignores them as he steps into the hall, but before he leaves, he gives Regulus a warning. “I won’t tell James about you, but it won’t make a difference. He’s already looking for a tracking spell.
“He also knows about your scars. James won’t rest until he finds you, even if that means inspecting the thighs of every male student at Hogwarts. You’re not safe. It’s only a matter of time before he finds you. You better start preparing what you’ll say to him when he does.”
He closes the door on Regulus' scowling face and heads to the Quidditch pitch. He's not in the right mind to face his boyfriend and best friend because he promised Regulus he wouldn't reveal his secret. If Sirius comes into contact with James within the next twenty-four hours, he'll accidentally blurt out everything he knows because it physically pains him to see his friend hurting.