Moments That We Stole
Mid-October, 1976
“You know, I’m all for you being happy, but even this is a bit much for you,” Barty says, snapping Regulus out of his thoughts.
They're sitting at a table in the library, waiting for Pandora and Evan, and Regulus is reading a note that James slipped in his robes after prefect rounds last night. He’s read it about thirty times since he found it this morning, and Barty has just caught him reading it again with a giddy smile on his face.
“Oh, shut it,” Regulus grumbles, straightening his face back into place. “Most people wouldn't find something to complain about when it comes to their friends being happy.
“Well, good thing I'm not most people,” Barty grins, leaning back in his chair.
Regulus rolls his eyes before carefully folding the note into a small square and putting it back into the pocket of his robes. James has been doing that recently, leaving notes for Regulus to find later. He hasn't told him, but he loves it. He loves that James is doing something to remind him of the two of them throughout the day. He thinks James must realize how much it pleases him, seeing as he keeps doing it. Some days, when the only glimpse of James he gets is passing by in the hallway or the back of his head at meals, it feels like what’s happening between them can’t possibly be real, so finding these notes is helpful for Regulus. It proves to him that it's not all in his head. That he’s not exaggerating James’ affection for him.
He’s started to collect them, placing each carefully folded note into a small, silver cigar box that once belonged to his father. It’s not like most of the Black family heirlooms– there’s no mention of the family motto and there’s only one snake, which is delicately etched into the metal of the box’s clasp. Regulus keeps the box inside his bedside table and takes it out each night, carefully unfolding the notes so he can read them again before bed.
This note though, the one Regulus found today and just got caught reading, is special. It feels really special. If anyone else read it, they wouldn’t know. They would think it was unfinished, the ending of a letter that got separated from its contents. But Regulus knows. He knows that this note came along with a gift: a photo of James, just the right size to fit inside of a wallet. It’s him, standing on the Hogwarts Quidditch Pitch, taken as he laughs. His hair is blowing in the wind and he’s in his Gryffindor Quidditch kit, leaning against his broom. The photo is in Regulus’ robes as well, but it’s not like he can just take it out and look at it.
So the fact that the note is just a quarter-ripped piece of parchment doesn’t matter to Regulus. He could read the words over and over again, thumbing over them until they fade to nothing, and it would still mean the world to him. He’ll keep it forever.
Yours entirely, James
That’s all it says, but Merlin, it might as well be the greatest love letter of all time to Regulus. He’s never really been one for sentimental things, he doesn’t think, but James Potter has softened him. Regulus doesn’t mind it, really. It’s nice to feel like this, to wake up happy, and to have something, or rather, someone to look forward to. He’s never felt this way before, but it's gone on long enough that he’s getting used to it. He feels lighter, and more hopeful, bits and pieces of James rubbing off on him.
It’s not that Regulus was entirely dark and twisty before this, or that he needs James to be happy. It’s just that, well, he’s been having a shit past few months, so this has been a rather enjoyable break from it all.
That’s not to say that the dark stuff has gone away because of James either, though. There’s still the looming danger of his parents, Dumbledore’s vague words, and the threat of his housemates who seem to be growing more and more irritated by Regulus and his connection to Sirius and James. The rumors about him, and what had happened over the summer had largely stopped, but recently there’s been an uptick in attacks with dark magic associations and the school seems to be dividing itself accordingly. The Slytherins are beginning to completely isolate themselves from the other houses, and Regulus is a weak link. A chink in the armor of their pureblood supremacy mania and dedication to their parents’ causes, no matter how dark they are or the fact that they don’t understand them. Regulus doesn’t even understand it all, not entirely, and he’s been in the middle of both sides.
He can handle it though, the recent attention. Many of his housemates assume that he’s under Dumbledore’s thumb because of his connection to the Potters and the way word spread about his summons to the Headmaster’s office that didn’t result in punishment. As a result, they’re still leaving him alone for the time being. It’s nothing he’s not used to– just hushed whispers and angry stares. He’s experienced that for as long as he can remember, just because of his family name.
Although, there’s one bit of it that’s making Regulus a bit– uneasy. He had thought that Mulciber was the one he needed to watch his back for, considering his attack on Regulus earlier in the term, but he seems to have cooled off. Sure, he’ll call Regulus names or give him a particularly withering look when he walks past, but no, it’s not Mulciber he’s worried about. It’s Snape.
Regulus has never given Snape much thought, to be honest. He’s rather unremarkable, in his opinion. A strong talent for potions, yes, but otherwise he’s just some half-blood with a blood purity complex, and as Sirius would say– poor hygiene.
Don’t ask Regulus how someone can be a blood purist when they aren’t a pureblood, he doesn’t know. It’s not as though Regulus really cares about the blood supremacy arguments. Yes, he was raised that way, but he’s smart enough to know that it doesn’t actually matter. He was never as passionate about it as Sirius, but he’s still aware. Even more aware now, seeing some of James’ friends, and Dorcas, who’s a half-blood. One of the few in Slytherin aside from Severus.
Take Lupin, for example. He’s incredibly clever and his magic is known widely throughout the school for its power and distinct signature. If blood quantum mattered, if they were worthy of fighting a war over, that wouldn’t be possible. It’s just another archaic ideal that wizarding families are clinging to as their world evolves. For a long time, Regulus thought the whole thing would lose steam, but it’s clear that’s not the case.
Snape though, as greasy and off-putting as he is, is relatively clever. Regulus will give him that, even if James and Sirius won’t. And, recently, he’s been watching Regulus. These aren’t lingering glances or the result of some harmless curiosity. No, he’s been watching Regulus. Sometimes, when Regulus is walking back to the common room after classes or prefect rounds, he’ll catch Snape, standing in alcoves where he thinks he’s hidden away. He doesn’t realize that for as clever as he is, Regulus is all of that and much, much more. Regulus’ powers of observation and strategy have rarely failed him before, and they aren’t failing him now. Regulus knows he’s there and he's keeping an eye on him.
He hasn’t mentioned it to James. Or Sirius, or his friends. Regulus just so happens to be closest to people with a strong distaste for Snape, and he knows that once they catch even the slightest inkling that Snape is messing with him, all hell will break loose. So, instead, he’s letting it happen within his control. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He has it under control.
“Ree-eg,” Barty sings, “Come back to Earth, please. I’m getting lonely down here.”
“Sorry,” Regulus mutters, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “Thinking too much.”
“Ugh,” Barty says, wrinkling his nose, “Can you at least try not to have weird, sexed-up daydreams about Potter around me? Where is the sense of propriety you were raised with?”
“Keep your voice down,” Regulus hisses, glancing around quickly, “You can’t just say his name like that, we’re in public. ”
“Oh, get over it, Reg. No one is listening. No one cares.”
“Whatever,” Regulus grumbles, standing up to leave, “I don’t think Evan and Pandora are coming. They probably went back to the common room, after all. Let’s just go there.”
“Fine,” Barty responds, rising from his seat and gathering his things, “If I had known all I had to do was mention James to get us out of here I would have done it ages ago.”
“ Barty, ” Regulus replies, his annoyance rising.
Barty just laughs loudly, leading the way out of the library. Just as they’re about to leave, Regulus takes one last look over his shoulder. At the very last second, he sees exactly what he was worried about, a flash of stringy black hair disappearing behind the bookcase nearest the table where Regulus and Barty had been sitting. Cold dread washes over him, but he keeps walking.
-
“Finally,” James breathes, placing quick kisses on Regulus’ neck as he presses him into the stone wall on the seventh floor of the castle.
“ James, ” Regulus protests, laughing despite himself. “Someone could see us.”
“Let them see then,” James says, not stopping. “I don’t really care.”
James has been particularly affectionate today, finding any excuse to touch Regulus during rounds and complimenting him throughout. He even came over to the Slytherin table at breakfast this morning, asking Regulus a question about an upcoming prefect meeting that definitely could have waited. From the glint in his eye, Regulus had known James was only asking to have a chance to speak with him. It was rather bold of him, to be honest. Interhouse mingling is at an all-time low, especially between Gryffindor and Slytherin.
“The room is right there,” Regulus points out, breaking free. “If we go in there you can keep doing it. Come on.”
James pulls a face but doesn't argue. Regulus is sure he realizes that he's not doing it to be mean or reject him, or anything like that. The two of them just need to be careful about this.
Regulus can’t shake the image of Snape in the library yesterday and is a bit nervous that he hasn’t been tracking him as well as he thought. Snape can mess with him all he wants, but he’d prefer that James wasn’t involved in all of it. Sirius does not need to find out about this from Snape. James also doesn’t need to get into another duel with Snape. Tensions are high enough as it is.
So James leads Regulus into the Room of Requirement, his tan fingers laced through Regulus’ pale ones. As they’ve spent more time together in the Room over the past month, it seems to be growing and adjusting to fit them. It’s not as if they need much, just a place to hide away, but the Room seems to know them at this point, recognizing them and adding things to please them.
Most recently, a bookcase has appeared, holding several volumes that Regulus enjoys, both Muggle and Magical. Despite his parents' rigidity regarding blood purity, Regulus and Sirius were both taught the classics growing up, including Homer, Shakespeare, and Dostoevsky, just to name a few. However, there were other Muggle works littered throughout his childhood, ones snuck by his father, Uncle Alphard, or a mildly rebellious governess.
When they walk into the room, Regulus lets go of James’ hand, stepping forward to inspect the bookcase, thumbing the spines as he reads their titles. As he reaches the last one on the middle shelf, he pauses, not quite touching it.
“What’s that?” James asks, leaning down to rest his chin on Regulus’ shoulder, his hair tickling his cheek. Regulus hesitates, looking at James out of the corner of his eye. This book, well, in many ways it’s a children’s book, but it’s personal to him. One that his father used to read to him when his mother was gone. Regulus hasn’t spoken about his parents to James. He hasn’t known how to. Maybe this will do.
He carefully pulls the book off the shelf, turning it over in his hands. He clears his throat.
“It’s a book,” He says, feeling James’ huff of laughter against his neck at his literalness. “It’s called “Le Petit Prince'' or in English “The Little Prince”, it’s a children’s book, or so people say,” He pauses again before continuing, “My father used to read it to me.”
“Oh?” Regulus can hear the curiosity in James’ voice. He knows that James wants to ask for more information, but is holding himself back, likely for Regulus’ sake. Definitely for Regulus’ sake.
“Yes,” Regulus says, quietly, still not turning to fully look at James.
“What’s it about?”
Regulus ponders the question a moment. “It’s about a lot of things, I suppose. Love, friendship, loss. Growing up. It follows a young prince who comes to Earth from another planet. He travels around the universe, learning things. He retells his journeys to a Muggle pilot who crashed in the desert.”
“Sounds like an interesting story,” James hums.
“It is,” Regulus agrees, “it’s sad, too. It’s quite iconic in France. My father read it as a child and thought I would like it, so he read it to me.”
“Will you read it to me?”
“Really? You want me to read it to you?”
“Yeah,” James says, pulling away from his spot on Regulus’ shoulder. Regulus turns around to look at him, now. “Why not?”
“Okay,” Regulus responds slowly, and they move to the couch. Once they settle down, lying so that James’ head is on Regulus’ chest with a thick, forest green blanket draped over the two of them, Regulus hesitates again.
This book truly is special to him, as childish as it might be. He and his father were always close and this feels like–- giving up a piece of that. Letting go of something that was once theirs alone. Orion was always kinder to Regulus than Walburga. He never stopped her from her cruelties, but he would turn a blind eye to the things that would have otherwise led to Regulus’ punishment.
When he was younger, Regulus was largely an afterthought. Sirius was the heir and Regulus was the spare, which was reflected in the affections of his mother, who never believed that Sirius was fully lost to her until he made it to the Potter’s. Their father, on the other hand, always saw Regulus as his own person, worthy of attention and interest just like any child. He was the first person to treat Regulus that way, aside from Sirius. It’s hard to give a part of their bond away.
But, Regulus thinks, there’s always room to give, when the person is deserving. The words from James’ note echo in his mind, Yours entirely, James . He wants to give James himself, entirely, too. Doesn’t want to be held back by fear or selfishness.
“Go on,” James encourages, nestling his head further into Regulus, “I’m ready when you are.”
So Regulus reads to him, the two of them lying together, limbs tangled, warm and content.
Occasionally, James will hum, either in agreement or interest at the words he reads. Regulus reads for a long time, his voice getting hoarse. James has gone quiet now and Regulus is sure that he’s fallen asleep, but he continues anyway.
“'What must I do, to tame you?' asked the little prince.
'You must be very patient,' replied the fox. 'First you will sit down at a little distance from me-like that-in the grass. I shall look at you out of the corner of my eye, and you will say nothing. Words are the source of misunderstandings. But you will sit a little closer to me, every day…”
“That’s a bit like us, don’t you think?” James asks, suddenly, startling Regulus.
“You think you tamed me?” He asks, lifting an eyebrow at James who moves his head to look up at him, a grin on his tired face.
“Maybe tamed isn’t the right word,” James shakes his head, “But I did something, and I did it just like that. A little closer everyday . And I know you were looking at me out of the corner of your eye, I saw you do it. ”
Regulus can’t help the smile on his face from spreading as he looks down at James.
“I suppose we did something like that.”
“That other line was just like you too, you know.”
“Which one?”
“You know, When someone blushes, doesn't that mean 'yes'? You were always blushing, before. I’ve told you I wouldn’t have known you were interested in me if it wasn’t for that.”
Regulus, of course, blushes at that and James smiles even bigger, leaning up on his elbows to twist and face Regulus.
“There it is,” James remarks, eyes full of fondness, “That blush of yours. It’s like a siren song for me or something.”
Regulus shakes his head, his heart swelling. “Well then, if I hadn’t blushed and you hadn’t known, then I would’ve been just like the other quote.”
“Which one?” Now it’s James’ turn to ask.
“Of course, I love you. If you were not aware of it, it was my fault.”
James’ eyes widen behind his glasses, and Regulus feels his heart pound at the intensity of his own words. It’s only been a month since Regulus kissed James, but he’s felt it all for so much longer. If James can give himself entirely, why can’t Regulus do the same? He doesn’t even need James to say it back. He just wants him to know.
“Reg-,” James begins, but Regulus cuts him off.
“Don’t. You don’t have to say it back. I just… I just thought you should know. I’ve known for a while now, so I figured you should as well. No reason to keep the secret from you.”
James opens his mouth to speak again, but Regulus just leans forward to kiss him.
James is as eager as ever, pressing into Regulus with a fervor that hasn’t been there before, not like this. The kiss deepens, and Regulus gasps into James’ mouth as his hands skirt up and down Regulus’ sides, eventually resting on the patch of bare skin on his waist where his uniform shirt has come untucked. James rubs light circles into it.
When they break apart, the two of them are flushed, unable to keep the grins off their faces as they look at each other. They’re so young and so happy, and Regulus feels safe . It’s as if the Room grows brighter afterward, sensing the way they feel. Knows that they need to feel like the world around them is affected by it too.
They settle back down on the couch, James pulling Regulus to his chest this time. They lay there, listening to each other breathing. James cards his fingers through Regulus’ curls, making him tired.
“Can I ask you something?” James says, eventually. His voice is quiet.
“Anything,” Regulus mumbles, half asleep.
“I’d like to see you more, like, outside of rounds. Outside of this.”
“That’s not a question,” Regulus replies, forcing nonchalance as his chest tightens in delight.
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James says, and despite Regulus’ closed eyes he can feel James’ arm reach up to run a hand through his own hair. “Well, I was thinking, er, would you maybe join us for a meal? At the Gryffindor table? We don’t need to act like anything, I mean actually, we probably shouldn’t, but I just thought that it might be nice. To spend more time together around everyone else. I think Sirius would like it, too.”
Maybe it’s because Regulus is warm and sleepy in James’ arms, or maybe because he basically just told James that he loves him. Or maybe Regulus is actually just really soft, and that’s why he ignores the warning bells going off distantly in his head at James’ request. He knows this is going to cause trouble for him, with his housemates at least. He should be laying low, maybe even taking meals with some of them to appease them. Oh, and his friends are going to take the absolute piss out of him. He doesn’t care right now, though. He wants to make James happy.
“Okay,” Regulus agrees, not opening his eyes.
“I– really?”
“Yeah,” Regulus says, curling into James, “Why not?”
James doesn’t respond. He just pulls Regulus closer, squeezing him slightly. When Regulus falls asleep, he doesn’t dream, but he’s happy.
-
“Reg,” James whispers loudly, attempting to wake Regulus. They’re still in the Come-and-Go Room, and it’s about six in the morning. They fell asleep. Well, Regulus fell asleep and then James decided to go to sleep with him, but it’s all the same, isn’t it?
“Reggg,” James says again, drawing out the ‘g’. Regulus is a deep sleeper, clearly. He gives up his efforts for a moment, stopping to watch Regulus as he sleeps.
The warm, early morning light is shining through the Room, bathing the entirety of it in a light orange glow. Regulus’ dark eyelashes catch the light, lining his face. His curls are slightly out of place, and his mouth is open, just a bit, his face resting against his palm. He looks like a fucking cherub. James can’t bring himself to wake him, but he knows he has to. Regulus will absolutely lose his shit if he doesn’t.
“Reg,” James repeats, leaning down to kiss his face. He stirs at that, a small noise of disapproval coming from him. “You have to wake up.”
Regulus stretches out his arms, his hands balling into fists as they lift above his head. Remus’ comparison of him to a cat flashes through James’ head and he lets out a soft laugh.
“What time is it?” Regulus asks, his voice soft and rough from sleep at the same time. James has never heard it sound like that before, and something wriggles inside of him. He feels his face get hot.
“Er–” James says, “it’s six o’clock.”
Regulus’ eyes snap open, looking at James. “What?”
“It’s six in the morning,” James repeats, glancing at the clock. “Well, it’s actually 6:07 if we want to get specific, but–”
“We fell asleep here?” Regulus asks, panicked, his hands patting around him. He finds his wand and shoves it into the pocket of his robes and sits up.
“Yeah,” James confirms, “But it’s fine, really, I mean classes don’t start for a few hours, and breakfast starts at 7:30, so we have time. You can go back to your dorm and change and grab your books and then meet me at the table.” He slips that last bit in as a not-so-subtle reminder of what Regulus agreed to last night about taking a meal with him and the Marauders.
Regulus narrows his eyes at him, “You planned this didn’t you?”
James laughs, putting his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t, I swear! I mean you might have fallen asleep first, but then I did too. As for breakfast, well, there’s no time like the present, is there?”
Regulus rolls his eyes at James, fixing his robes and standing up.
“You are so bloody lucky that I–” Regulus stops himself, kissing his teeth.
“Why? Why am I lucky, Regulus?” James teases, raising his eyebrows at him, daring him to say it. He’s not going to, James knows that. He’s still in shock that Regulus even confessed what he did last night in that roundabout way. He’s still going to try to get him to say it, though.
“You’re just lucky, okay?” Regulus grits out, his face turning a lovely shade of pink. “If you want me to join you at breakfast, you’ll stop while you’re ahead, Potter.”
“Potter? Really? Love, you are not a morning person.”
“I’m leaving now, James .”
“See you at breakfast!” James calls after him. The door shuts behind Regulus and he sits there a moment before he gets up himself, smiling.
-
“Where were you?” Sirius asks, irritation lining his voice. He’s following James down the stairs from the boy’s dormitory. Remus and Peter are just behind them.
“Er- I needed to blow off some steam,” James lies, looking at the floor as he walks. “I just walked down to the forest after rounds and put Prongs into action. I didn’t realize how much time had passed until the sun came up.”
Sirius huffs. “Well next time, come get me, why don’t you? We’ve barely spent any time together all term.”
“Pads, I love you, but we’re together constantly. Not to mention you literally lived at my house all summer. And the summer before that,” James replies, teasingly.
“It’s not enough for him, James. It’ll never be enough,” Remus chimes in, humor in his voice as well.
“Oh, whatever, fuck you both,” Sirius crosses his arms and Peter sighs from beside Remus. Yeah, James thinks, I agree, Pete.
By the time they reach the breakfast table, Sirius’ attention has been lost and he sits down at the table, seemingly no longer annoyed, at least not at James.
“Minnie is kicking my ass,” He says, rifling through his school bag, “I mean that much reading? It’s unnatural… Some might say abhorrent. Cruel and unusual punishment, even.”
“It was two chapters,” Remus deadpans.
“Exactly! Two chapters? Two? In this economy?”
The boys break into peels of laughter, piling food onto their plates. James is buzzing with excitement as he waits for Regulus to join them. He’s avoiding looking at the entryway so he doesn’t come off as suspicious, but it’s difficult. He wants to look so badly. He needs to distract himself.
He’s in mid-conversation with Pete and Sirius, who are sitting on either side of him when Regulus shows up.
“Hello,” Regulus says, his voice tight.
He’s standing there, his robes crisp and his curls perfect, staring at James.
“Hi?” James responds. He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but it does. It makes Regulus look kind of dumb, actually. Or maybe it makes James seem rude. He curses himself mentally.
Regulus raises an eyebrow at him and it’s like James can hear him. Really, James? You ask me to do this and then act like I’m the freak?
“Reg, what do you need?” Sirius asks, eyeing his brother with suspicious curiosity.
“I was wondering if,” Regulus heaves a sigh, “I might be able to join the four of you for breakfast.”
Remus, who had just been quietly watching, sipping pumpkin juice, begins to cough quite loudly, choking on his drink.
“Oh! Yeah, of course!” James replies, grinning.
Sirius is still looking at Regulus a bit funny, but he nods too, a smile slowly spreading on his face. “Yeah, Reggie, of course. Go on then, sit next to Remus.”
Remus is still coughing, and covers his mouth, nodding and waving weakly at Regulus. Reg gives him an unimpressed look as he sits down, scooting away slightly. James can’t keep a laugh from escaping him.
“How are you, Regulus?” Peter asks, nervously.
“Fine, thank you.”
“Merlin, Reg, it's just us, not breakfast with the Queen. Relax a bit, will you?” Sirius rolls his eyes.
Regulus stares at him a moment before rolling his shoulders back. He turns his attention to James.
“James,” Regulus says, “How do you manage to make your hair look that terrible this early in the morning?”
Sirius snickers from beside James and James smiles despite Reg’s comment.
“Well, Reggie , if you must know, I did this just for you,” James smiles sweetly, unable to stop himself from flirting with Regulus just a little bit, even in front of Sirius, “But you’re rather difficult to impress.”
“Shut up,” Regulus grumbles, the high points of his cheeks flushing, “You’re such an idiot.”
“Ugh,” Sirius wrinkles his nose in mock disgust, “Quit it. It’s like Lily’s at the table and not Reg.”
James freezes, looking from Sirius to Regulus, but Regulus doesn’t respond. He just rolls his eyes. I mean, it’s true, but James didn’t think Sirius would pick up on it. James is a little surprised that Regulus didn’t react to the comment, considering his odd reactions to Lily previously.
“It’s not Prong’s fault he likes to be insulted. That’s all mental. Born that way, probably,” Remus says lightly, eating his breakfast.
“It’s probably because he doesn’t have any mummy issues. Me and Reg on the other hand, we need people to be really nice to us after our parents.” Sirius says, barking a laugh.
“When did you become a psychologist?” Remus asks, his eyebrows raised at Sirius.
“A what?” Sirius asks, his eyebrows drawn together.
“Nothing,” Remus shakes his head, "You really should've taken Muggle Studies."
"Sirius isn't interested in the intricacies of Muggles," Regulus responds, "Only the celebrities."
"Hey! I like the music too," Sirius protests, laughing, "And the clothes."
"Merlin," Peter groans, "Don't start talking about your leather jacket, please. I thought we were free of that during the school year."
"No one is free of the leather jacket, Pettigrew," Regulus says, his face straight, "It haunts us all, no matter where we are. Just ask our mother."
"Reggie, I'm never going to let you sit with us again if you sit here and get my friends to take the piss out of me."
Regulus rolls his eyes again, but James sees the corner of his mouth twitch. He's trying not to smile. Regulus likes hanging out with them, James realizes, delighted.
"Well, I'd best be off. Need to run to the library before Transfiguration." Remus says, gathering his things. "Anyone want to come?"
"Moony, I'm begging you, please don't be a swot first thing in the morning. It's not good for your health," Sirius whines, looking at Remus reproachfully.
"I'd better leave as well," Regulus says, standing up. He looks at Sirius and James and hesitates for a moment. "Thanks for letting me sit with you." With that, he turns away quickly, walking towards the entrance to the Great Hall.
The four of them watch him go in silence before Sirius speaks.
"Well, I know that might've seemed like it was bad, but for Reggie, that was really good. I mean, he was being funny. Snarky as shit, and totally at my expense, but he was being funny all the same."
"I thought it was good," Remus nods, his books in his lap, and James and Peter nod in agreement.
"I wonder why he asked to sit with us," Sirius thinks out loud, "Do you reckon his housemates are giving him trouble again?"
James can feel Remus' eyes on him after Sirius' questions, so he chooses his words carefully, to not tip Sirius off but not worry him.
"No, Pads, I don't think so. Maybe he wanted to see you?"
"You think?" Sirius asks, his voice full of doubt.
"I mean, why else would he sit here?" Peters says, "It's not like he wants to hang out with any of us."
James makes eye contact with Remus this time, who raises an eyebrow at him, a smirk on his face.
"You're right, Wormtail," Remus agrees, "Regulus doesn't have any interest in the rest of us."
"Yeah, you're right," Sirius nods, his face thoughtful, "Huh. Well, that was rather nice then. Never thought I'd see the day that Regulus sat with me at a meal because he wanted to."
James feels a tug of guilt in his stomach and looks down at his plate, his face hot.