On Begged and Borrowed Time

November 5th, 1976

Telling Dorcas everything went about as well as Regulus could expect. She listened carefully, her full attention on Regulus. She didn’t interrupt— there were only a few moments when her eyes widened or narrowed, or she took a sharp intake of breath.

She didn’t pass judgment, at least not verbally, when Regulus explained the hole he dug himself in with Dumbledore and his parents. She listened dutifully, nodding where she should and humming in agreement or disapproval here or there. 

Surprisingly, or maybe not, the thing Regulus was most nervous to tell Dorcas about was him and James. He told it to her honestly, not necessarily in full detail, but got the whole story out. As he was telling her, she didn’t react at all. She just listened, watching him. 

“So that’s what’s been going on,” Regulus explained, trying to get a read on her reaction.

“Huh,” Dorcas muttered, “Your life is insane, actually. Merlin’s Beard, Regulus.”

“Yeah,” Regulus murmured, looking down at his hands and flexing his fingers.

“I mean, there’s a lot to say, but damn,” She shook her head, “James Potter? Nice.”

Regulus looked up suddenly, meeting her eyes. Dorcas flashed him a grin, her dark eyes sparkling in the light, “I’m serious, damn. Nice one.”

“That’s what you got out of that?” Regulus arched a brow at her, mildly unimpressed.

“To a degree, yeah,” Dorcas admitted, “I understand how important everything else is, but I’m choosing to focus on the positives first. Is he your boyfriend?”

“Er–” Regulus considered that question, “I don’t know. We’ve never said, but I don’t know what else he’d be.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes,” Regulus answered, not an ounce of hesitation in his voice.

Dorcas raised her eyebrows, “Does he love you?”

“Yes.”

She let out a low whistle then, “Good for you, Regulus, seriously.”

“Thanks, Dorcas.”

She looked thoughtful for a minute, tossing her braids over her shoulder. “He’s friends with McKinnon, isn’t he?”

“Marlene McKinnon?” Regulus asked, a bit confused about what the relevance was. “Yeah, I’d say so. They’re on the Quidditch team together and in the same house. Why?”

“No reason,” Dorcas replied lightly, “Now, let’s get down to business: you’re doing shit for Dumbledore, you have to go back home this summer, I can’t tell anyone, and you need to get on the good side of the other Slytherins who currently think you’re a bleeding heart, blood traitor.”

“Yes,” Regulus said quietly. It sounded even worse when she repeated it back to him.

Dorcas hummed, nodding slightly, “Have you told James?”

“No,” Regulus cleared his throat. “I haven’t– he’ll freak out. I will tell him, I think, but not yet. Things are good right now and I don’t know how long that will last. I just want it to be good as long as it can be. I want him to be happy.”

“So, you think you’ll be able to hide all of this from your boyfriend,” Dorcas questioned, doubtfully, “What about you, Regulus? Don’t you deserve to be happy? Have some support from him on this?”

“I don’t know,” Regulus grumbled, “I have you now.”

Dorcas let out a low laugh, “Yeah, I guess you do. And Sirius?”

“What about him?”

“Will he know about any of this? Does he know about you and James?”

“No,” Regulus exhaled, “He won’t know, not for a while. He doesn’t know about me and James either. I- I don’t know how he’ll react. I’m not really in the mood to find out just yet.”

“You’re keeping a lot of secrets, Regulus,” Dorcas murmured, “Do nothing secretly; for time sees and hears all things, and discloses all.”

“Sophocles,” Regulus recognized.

“Very clever, Reg,” Dorcas nodded, “It’s true. They’ll all know at some point. It might be best to just get it out there. I mean, if Sirius thinks you’re going home because you want to…”

“I know,” Regulus sighed, “Believe me, I know.”

“There’s no one quite as lonely as someone keeping secrets.”

“Who said that?”

“Me,” Dorcas said, giving him a look. “Because it’s true. If you can trust them to keep a secret, to let you do what needs to be done, then you should consider telling them.”

Regulus didn’t respond to that, he just nodded. He knows it’s true. He and James talk about most things. James is an open book and Regulus is— well he’s in the process of opening. It’s not exactly easy for him. This would make things even more difficult— if he didn’t know. Then there’s Sirius. The two of them, they’re so tumultuous. Their relationship is so volatile, that if Sirius thinks Regulus is returning home because he wants to Regulus doesn’t know if they’ll make it. Dumbledore had told him that as unconditional as brotherly love is, there are some choices that a brother can make that can destroy the relationship. Regulus thinks that going home willingly might be a choice like that, to Sirius. He might love Regulus still, somewhere deep down, but he would hate him too. On the other hand, if Sirius knew what was being asked of Regulus, there’s no way he’d let it happen. He’d probably try to go in his place which cannot happen. Sirius, as strong and brilliant as he is, won’t be able to handle it. He won’t be able to pull it off. His hatred for their parents and the pureblood cause is too strong, and he won’t be able to fake support for that. Regulus won’t let him. Growing up, and even now at Hogwarts, Sirius has always been the one to protect Regulus. It’s time to return the favor.

“Sirius wouldn’t let me do what needs to be done. James probably would, but it would be really difficult for him,” Regulus finally said.

“Harder than it will be for you?” Dorcas pressed, “Regulus, do you understand what is being asked of you? What you’re going to have to do to achieve it? This won’t just be a summer at home, this will be months, if not years, of work and dedication. You’re going to have to do things that I presume you don’t want to. Probably some terrible things. I— Is Dumbledore asking you to take the mark?”

Regulus’ stomach dropped when she asked that. It’s not that it hadn’t crossed his mind, in fact, it had quite a few times, but he had been pushing it away, trying not to think about it. He thinks he’d do it if he had to, but he doesn’t want to. If he did that and James still loved him, he’d have to tell him why. It would shatter him if he thought Regulus got the mark because he wanted it. Sirius would— Sirius would probably kill him. Or never speak to him again. 

But if he didn’t tell them, and he did everything he was supposed to and he helped end the war, they’d know after and maybe it would be okay. Maybe it would be worth it.

“I don’t know,” Regulus admitted, “He hasn’t said anything about it. I know that doesn’t mean anything, but I’m hoping it does. I’m hoping he won’t push me that far. I don’t want to sound like a child, but I’m only fifteen. Surely he’d draw the line somewhere?”

“I wouldn’t be too sure,” Dorcas furrowed her brow. “Aren’t you sixteen next month?”

“Yes,” Regulus nodded. “Sixteen really isn’t much better, is it?”

“I don’t think so, no, but Dumbledore might feel differently. That’s only a year from being of age.”

“Let’s talk about this when we have to,” Regulus said, swallowing harshly, “Not right now.”

Dorcas looked at him, studying his face, “Yeah, okay,” She folded her hand, looking down at her nails, “Well, I think to get you in with the Slytherins we need to strategize. I can start mentioning you more, putting in a good word, but you’re going to have to put some work in.”

“I know that. What do you have in mind?”

“Hanging out with us, not socializing with James or Sirius in public when you can avoid it. Saying shit you may or may not believe.”

“I doubt I believe it,” Regulus muttered.

“Hmm,” Dorcas hummed, “Hopefully not, but you’ll need to make sure they all think you do. You’re going to have to pull the Black card, I think. That can get you far.”

Regulus knows that and he’s already been considering it. It can get him far, especially if he starts saying other extremist shit.

“I think you deserve what you have right now, this bit of good amid hell,” Dorcas continued. “Are you going to the Potter’s for the Christmas holidays?”

“Yes,” Regulus narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

“We’ll start after then. You keep having this bit of good and go to the Potter’s for break. Have an idyllic little last few weeks with James and Sirius, and when you come back, we’ll flip the switch. It’ll be like you went with them and realized how much you hate it all, or don’t want it, and you’ll be able to cement yourself amongst our housemates.”

It’s a good idea, really. A great one, even. Regulus is annoyed he didn’t come up with it himself because it’s almost glaringly obvious that’s what needs to be done.

“It’ll give you time to decide whether you’re going to tell James and Sirius, too,” Dorcas added. “Not sure how they’d react being blindsided to that degree if you don’t.”

“Well,” Regulus said, “I suppose we’ll see what I decide.”

“I suppose we will,” Dorcas responded, “I just hope you don’t regret the choice you make.”

“Either way, it’s going to be difficult,” Regulus muttered, glancing away. “Who knows if the war will even end in Dumbledore’s favour after all of this.”

“Oh, Regulus,” Dorcas laughed, “The greater the difficulty, the more the glory in surmounting it. And of course, only the dead have seen the end of the war. Do wars ever really end?”

“Epictetus and Plato,” Regulus rolled his eyes at her. “You’re just showing off now.”

“I always forget that as ignorant as your family is, they kept you well-read,” Dorcas smiled, “You see, when I usually say things like that to purebloods they think I’ve come up with it myself. It’s part of why they think I’m so— wise.”

“You are wise,” Regulus told her, “Your wisdom just comes from other people. That’s probably one of the best methods of wisdom. Learning from others.”

“You really are becoming a bleeding heart, aren’t you, Reg?”

“Quit it,” Regulus groaned, “I hear it enough from Barty and Evan.”

Dorcas laughed again, slinging an arm around Regulus’ shoulder. “I love you, Reg, I really do. I want you to know, that I’m glad you came to me, even after the way this year’s been so far. We can do this. You can do this. You really will be Prince Black— Prince of Slytherin.”

Regulus allowed himself to crack a smile at Dorcas and soak in her words, “My rightful role,” He said, wryly. In all seriousness though, with her help, he thinks she might be right. He can do this.

-

November 6th, 1975

“So he seemed alright, then? He was really fine to go back to his dorm?” Sirius is sitting across from James in the Common Room before classes start, asking him about Regulus, who supposedly got released from the hospital wing yesterday. Sirius wouldn’t know, he hasn’t spoken to his brother since they yelled at each other in the infirmary. Sirius’ birthday was three days ago, and he felt a deep pang in his chest when he realized as he was going to bed that night that it was the first time, at least since the single year of his life before Regulus was born, that they hadn’t spoken or seen each other on Sirius’ birthday. 

“He was good,” James assures him, looking at him earnestly. “He’s pretty much healed up at this point. I think he was starting to go a bit stir-crazy, honestly.”

Sirius hums, imagining Regulus sitting in the hospital for almost a week straight and not being able to go to class. Regulus has always been more reserved and well-behaved than Sirius, but when he gets bored he gets frustrated. And a little bit twitchy. Not to mention that he was probably starting to lose his mind knowing he was missing that much class. Swot.

Sirius isn’t angry with Regulus anymore, not really. He doesn’t even know how angry he was to begin with. It wasn’t really Regulus who he had gotten upset with— it was their parents. The two of them, no matter how nice they might pretend to be towards Regulus, are terrible. Genuinely bad people and he knows how they twist Regulus around their fingers, manipulating him in the way only parents know how. Sirius is immune to it because he doesn’t care what they think, but Regulus is the baby of the family and in a pureblood house like the Blacks, the baby means the spare. Reg has been trying to prove himself worthy of their attention and affection for his entire life. Sirius isn’t surprised that Regulus is still stuck in that habit. He believes he’ll break it, soon enough. 

“It’s been nice of you, going to the hospital wing since I— since he probably wouldn’t want me to,” Sirius tells him, his voice quiet so that the others in the common room can’t hear them speaking. Sirius knows James is a good friend, but the way he’s stepped up to support Sirius and Regulus through all of this, it’s been unbelievable. He’s spent almost every waking moment in the infirmary with Regulus. “I know it’s probably not how you want to spend your free time, so I appreciate it. I’m sure Reggie does too, even if he acts like a little shit.”

“He doesn’t act like a little shit,” James shakes his head, eyebrows drawn together, “It’s nice, actually. Spending time with him, that is. I quite like Regulus.”

“Do you?” Sirius is honestly surprised that James would like Regulus at all because they’re so— well, they’re so different. James is like sunshine and Reggie is a little raincloud. They’re not very well-matched as friends.

“Yeah, I do,” James says, looking up to meet Sirius’ eyes. He holds that gaze and Sirius watches as his tan cheeks flush slightly. “I do like Regulus.”

“Well,” Sirius shrugs, “Obviously that’s fine by me. I’m glad you two are friends. Merlin knows he needs more of those that aren’t in Slytherin.”

“Friends,” James echoes, eyebrows drawn together again. He’s being odd and Sirius isn’t really in the mood, so he changes the subject a bit. 

“Should I invite him, you think? To the party tonight?”

“I mentioned it to him,” James says, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think he thinks you want him there. If you invite him instead of me, he might actually come.”

“Of course I want him there,” Sirius grumbles, shaking his head. “He knows how we are and he always makes it even weirder. Did he say that to you? That I didn’t want him there?”

“Err–” James stammers, “Not in so many words? I just kind of got the feeling that’s how he felt. He wasn’t chatting shit or anything.”

“Hmmph,” Sirius grunts, annoyed at his little brother again. “He always makes me out as the bad guy. Did you hear what he said before, about me always leaving him?” That comment from Regulus was a direct hit. It was like being shot at point blank. Like a dagger being stabbed and twisted into his heart with the intention of harm. He knew Regulus had some resentment about him leaving, but they’ve never actually talked about it. There’s only been moments like that, where it blows up in their faces and Sirius is reminded of just how alone Reggie was after he left. What he had to become in Sirius’ absence. 

“I don’t know, mate,” James mutters, a little bit sheepishly. “I think he was just stressed. I mean— he did almost die after all.” James pauses, looking thoughtful a moment before looking back to Sirius. “And to be honest with you, Pads, I don’t think you’re the bad guy in Regulus’ story, I’m pretty sure he credits himself with that.”

Sirius just looks at James, realizing just how accurate that statement is and it makes his heart ache a little bit. Regulus has always been so— self-deprecating, so intent on being dark and twisty. He is naturally that way, a lot of the time, but Reggie is so good too. He can be funny and sweet and he’s very thoughtful when he wants to be. He’s not a bad person. He’s just… Well, he’s just Regulus.

“Shit,” Sirius exhales, raising his brows at James and scratching his head, “How much time have you been spending with Regulus? You just fully clocked him.”

James flushes again and Sirius is about to ask what the blushing is about when Peter calls out for them from the staircase, signaling that he and Remus are ready to go down for breakfast. 

They walk, joining the other two boys and Sirius flashes Remus a grin, feeling a swoop in his stomach when Remus meets his eyes, offering him a small smile. He turns to James, “I’m going to find Regulus during break and invite him. Hopefully, he doesn’t fully reject me.”

James laughs, tossing his arms around Sirius’ shoulder, and pulls him close as they make their way to the Great Hall.

-

“Reggie!” Sirius shouts over the crowd of people milling about the hallway. He just spotted Regulus’ head of curls and Slytherin robes after waiting ages. “Hey, Reggie!”

Regulus turns around suddenly, looking for Sirius. Sirius presumes that Regulus knows it’s him calling out his name because he’s the only one who calls him that— Reggie.

He keeps scanning the room, his eyes eventually finding Sirius. His face is impassive and he stills a moment— just a moment— before walking stiffly towards Sirius.

“Sirius,” Regulus greets, his voice quiet.

“Reggie,” Sirius smiles tightly, desperate to make things as close to normal as they were before, “Anything to say to me?”

Regulus surveys him, and Sirius wonders briefly if he thinks he’s asking for an apology. I mean, that would be nice, but that’s not why he’s here.

“Happy belated birthday, Sirius,” Regulus mutters, casting his eyes down.

“There we go,” Sirius grins, a little more genuinely this time. “You’ll come to the party tonight then?”

Regulus’ head snaps back up, his eyes searching Sirius desperately, “You want me there?”

“Of course I do, Reggie,” Sirius’ voice softens. “It wouldn’t be right without you there.”

Regulus looks so genuinely shocked by Sirius’ words that it makes him feel rather guilty. Has he really treated his brother so poorly that he thinks he wouldn’t want him at a party, even if they had fought? They’ve fought before, plenty of times, and usually about their parents. Maybe before the summer Sirius wouldn’t have wanted Regulus there after something like that, but it’s different now. He’s willing to show Regulus that he can mess up and Sirius won’t leave. Although, he supposes he hasn’t done a great job of that so far, considering he left Regulus in the hospital wing. It’s moments like this where he doesn’t know if he’s ever been a good brother to Regulus at all. It makes a lump rise in his throat, but he swallows it down.

“What time is the party?”

“20:00,” Sirius tells him, “The password is ‘Pygmy Puff’. Bring Malfoy or Rosier. You can even bring Crouch, if you really want to.” Sirius pulls scrunches his face up at the mention of Barty, in a mostly teasing way. He’s not the fondest of him, but he knows he’s a good friend to Regulus.

Regulus nods, “I didn’t get you a present. I’m sorry.”

Sirius barks a laugh, shoving Regulus playfully, “Quit it, that doesn’t matter. Just come tonight, yeah? It’ll be fun. We’ll pretend like that’s your present to me.”

Regulus scoffs, rolling his eyes and Sirius lets out a relieved exhale. There’s his snarky little shit of a brother. When Regulus gets mopey like that, even treating Sirius like he’s not worthy of kindness, it makes him itch. 

“I’ve got to run to class, but I’ll see you tonight, Reggie. We’ll spend some time together like we used to on our birthdays.”

With that, Sirius takes off, walking the corridors quickly to get to Professor Flitwick’s classroom. He feels a little lighter on his way, knowing that Regulus will be there tonight.

-

Regulus watches Sirius jog off towards the staircase, feeling slightly bemused. I mean, he appreciates being invited, but it’s so— so unlike Sirius, honestly. Sirius isn’t one to brush things under the rug, be the bigger person. Last year, or just about any year at Hogwarts besides this one, if Regulus had spoken about their parents the way he did, he wouldn’t have heard from Sirius for weeks. Sirius is a grudgeholder, so he doesn’t understand what’s going on here. He wonders how much of it is James’ influence. Wonders if maybe, just maybe, this isn’t about James. Maybe, Regulus thinks with a little wriggle of hope in his chest, this is just about Sirius and Regulus. Big brother and little brother. Maybe it’s just them. All them. Always them, like it used to be.

It’s nearing the end of the school day now and students are eager for the weekend to begin. Many are probably excited about Sirius’ party, knowing his wide reach amongst their classmates.

As Regulus makes his way down the dungeons to grab a book for his last class, he lets that wriggle of hope turn into something bigger. 

Regulus has complex feelings about hope. Hope is lifesaving and destructive; it’s nagging and comforting. It greets him like an old friend and tricks him like an enemy. 

Hope is what the Potters gave him over the summer. Hope is what James gives him every day. Hope is the love his friends have for him. Maybe hope will be a gift from Sirius, too, first presenting itself in the form of an invitation after a fight that would have left them frayed before.

Hope is a dangerous thing, especially for someone in Regulus’ position. He doesn’t even know the details yet, but he knows. He knows that hope is likely what’s going to get him through this. If it doesn’t, he’s going to have to learn to put his longing behind him. He’s managed it before, but that was when he was close to hopeless. It’s hard not to hope, not to yearn, when it flows into him like a life source from everyone around him.

His mind wanders, thinking of Pandora. He still hasn’t caught her since he left the hospital wing. They had classes together today, but she wasn’t there. Barty and Evan told him she was going home for the weekend, which surprised Regulus but wasn’t entirely out of the norm. Pandora and her family are relatively close. There could be something going on that she’ll fill them in on upon her arrival back to school.

As Regulus enters the Slytherin common room, he decides that he’s going to post a letter to Pandora to let her know that he’s thinking of her and hopes all is well at home. That’s another thing that hope does— it makes him a bit more affectionate. It’s not that Regulus didn’t hold affection for those he cared about before this, but he feels more prepared to share it with them now. After his conversation with Dorcas especially, he’s realized he’s on a bit of a timeline to behave this way. He might as well get it out while he can. If he doesn’t, he might not be able to do it until the war is over, if that day ever comes.

When he steps into his dormitory, he notices with amusement that Barty tore up his side of the room looking for something. Evan’s bed is unmade, but otherwise, his things are organized. Regulus’ bed is made and his belongings are organized and tidy. It represents the three of them so well— chaotic, completely normal, and obsessive.

Regulus huffs out a quiet laugh through his nose, opening his bedside table to grab his textbook. When he does, he looks down, beginning to sort through the books in the drawer, when his blood runs cold.

There, sitting neatly atop his Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook is an envelope with familiarly foreboding handwriting spelling out his name.

He takes the letter carefully, like it might burn him if he’s not careful enough, and opens it with surprisingly steady hands.

Inside is a small piece of parchment and Regulus scans the loopy letters that adorn it.

Regulus, it reads, 

 

I’m pleased to hear that you’ve recovered and have been discharged from the hospital wing. Please join me in my study at 7:30pm tonight.

 

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

Slowly, carefully, Regulus refolds the parchment, slotting it back inside the envelope. He places it gingerly in his drawer and takes the textbook he needs. He drops it in his schoolbag and straightens his back, rolling his shoulders into place, and takes a deep breath while raising his chin slightly. 

Regulus closes his eyes and pictures a bookcase. He moves a few volumes around and then opens his eyes.

He walks to class, and he doesn’t feel a thing.

-

“Do you really think he’s not coming?” Sirius grumbled to James, Remus, and Peter. “I actually thought he would, since I asked him myself.”

“Sirius, it’s 8:15 and the party started at 8:00,” Remus sighs, “It’s perfectly normal for him to not be here yet.”

“Regulus is always on time,” Sirius tells him, feeling irritated that Remus doesn’t know Regulus like Sirius does. Remus is supposed to know things. He’s supposed to understand Sirius— he usually does.

“Maybe he’s still convincing his friends to come?” Peter offers, his voice doubtful.

“I’m sure he’s coming, Pads,” James soothes, leaning into his shoulder. “Just enjoy the party until he does.”

Sirius grunts in response, plopping down on one of the couches in the common room to see if he can catch Regulus coming in. The party, despite it only being fifteen minutes in, is in full swing. There are banners strung across the ceiling, bewitched to flicker between Sirius’ name and ‘Happy Birthday!’. Music is blaring from the record player Andromeda bought him and people are dancing happily to some music that’s playing. It’s Killer Queen right now, which Sirius admittedly loves, but he’s too put out by the fact that Regulus isn’t here to get up and enjoy it.

He scans the dance floor, amused despite himself as he watches Alice and Frank dance and scream the lyrics to each other. Marlene and Lily are talking to a group of fifth-year girls nearby, Mary standing with them and laughing prettily, eyeing a seventh-year Ravenclaw from across the room. He watches as Peter wanders over to Emmeline Vance, stuttering slightly as he attempts to talk to her. Sirius rolls his eyes. Hopeless, truly. His eyes linger on Remus, who has wandered over to the DJ player and is queuing records, his sandy hair falling in his eyes as he leans over. Sirius finds himself smiling, watching him. Moony, moony, moony , he thinks to himself and he feels even more content, knowing Remus is enjoying himself.

All is well, which is comforting. After the past week, with Regulus and the attacks on the families, it’s nice to just feel like— a teenager. A normal one, who has fun and goes to parties and doesn’t worry about their little brother getting killed or an impending war.

James sits down next to him, throwing an arm over the back of the couch. He turns to look at Sirius, offering him a drink with a lopsided grin, “Alright, Pads?”

“I’m good, Prongs,” Sirius accepts the drink, taking a sip. “It is a good party so far, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” James nods, casting his eyes over the scene in front of them. Everyone really does look like they’re having a good time.

“I don’t want to be annoying, but,” Sirius pauses, “But I really hope he comes.”

“He’ll come, Sirius,” James says, sounding quite sure of himself. “No doubt.”

“Did he tell you that?” James and Regulus have been spending a lot of time together recently, between prefect rounds and hospital visits, and as nice as Sirius thinks it is, it also makes him feel a little bit… jealous. He’s happy Reg has James as a friend, and he’s glad James is nice enough to do that for Reg, but they’ve always been separate and Sirius feels torn about how it feels to have them come together. Sirius doesn’t like that they have a friendship that he isn’t entirely a part of.

“No,” James shakes his head, looking back to Sirius again as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just know. Can feel it.”

“You can feel it?” Sirius arches a brow doubtfully.

“Mhm,” James smiles, waggling his eyebrows, “In my bones.”

Sirius tries to scowl and pull a Regulus, but he can’t maintain it. He bursts out laughing, letting his head roll onto James’ shoulder.

“Gonna talk to Evans tonight?” Sirius asks carefully once the two of them have stopped laughing. The redhead is out on the dancefloor now, swaying her hips to the music alongside Mary and Marlene.

James looks startled, glancing over at Sirius before looking back to the dance floor. “Oh, no,” He laughs nervously, “No, I don’t think so. I mean maybe in a friendly way, but otherwise no. I’m fine right here, waiting with you for Regulus.”

“I can’t believe you’re really over her,” Sirius breathes in disbelief. It’s astonishing actually. The way James was about Lily— well, James believed in it so hard that Sirius started to as well. It’s a little bit sad that it’s over, like another signal that they’re growing up and leaving their childhood behind. “What changed?”

“Er,” James stammers, “Lots of things, I suppose.”

“Like?” Sirius presses, looking at James with his full attention. He is curious about it all.

“I’ve, er, experienced new things? Met new people?”

“ New people?” Sirius asks excitedly, “Prongs, do you fancy someone new and you haven’t told me?!”

“I never said that!” James protests, his eyes wide as he looks at Sirius. “I— It’s not—”

“Merlin’s Beard,” Sirius whispers, astonished, “You fancy someone new. Who is it, then? You have to tell me, James, it’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday was three days ago,” James grumbles, his face flushed. “It’s no one, I just— Well it is someone, but you need to wait. I’m trying to be more, er, private about it this time? After the Lily business, which got a little bit embarrassing there at some points, honestly.”

“You can tell me,” Sirius insists, “I won’t tell anyone.”

“I can’t,” James argues, looking at Sirius very seriously. “Not right now, anyway. I’m gonna go try to pull Peter out of whatever situation is happening right now with Emmeline.” Sirius follows James’ eyes and sees Emmeline standing across from Peter with her arms crossed, looking rather angry as she speaks to him.

“Good luck,” Sirius grimaces. “And this conversation isn’t over, you’ll tell me or I’ll figure it out.”

James nods and walks off towards Peter. Sirius is alone for about thirty seconds before someone replaces James on the couch.

“Hiya,” Remus smiles, his thigh pressing against Sirius’ once he’s settled. Sirius has a hard time ignoring the warmth of it. “Having a good time? I put some Bowie in the stack for you, should be coming up soon.”

“Thanks, Moony,” Sirius nods, smiling back easily. “I’m having a good time, are you?”

“Better now,” Remus murmurs, scrunching up his nose a bit. “There were too many people over there that weren’t you.”

Sirius stills and his eyes meet Remus’. There’s a glint of— something there. Mischief or fondness or maybe something new entirely.

“Oh, Moony,” Sirius says, “You’re making me blush.” He’s not lying either. Remus’ comment really did make him blush. He’s flushed all over and his cheeks are hot. Maybe it’s the drink Remus gave him? It has some fire whiskey in it so—

“I can see that,” Remus hums, a smug expression on his face. He takes a swig of his drink and wets his lips slightly, his pink tongue darting out to absorb the spare liquid left behind. Sirius watches him, his eyes glued to Remus’ mouth before raising his eyes back up to Remus’.

Remus raises his eyebrows at him and Sirius has to will himself not to look back down at Remus’ mouth as his face heats up again. He’s felt this way more than a few times around Remus. Nervous and overheated and excited and desperate for more. Not anything more in particular– just more Remus. Desperate for Remus to put all of his attention on him and no one else. Sometimes, it’s obvious that Remus reads those cues because he does . He gives Sirius all the attention: all the spare glances and feather-light touches and jokes just for them.

Other times, he doesn’t. Or he snaps at Sirius. Or Sirius snaps at him. It’s all very hot and cold, but whether it’s hot or cold, Sirius always wants more Remus. Moony, moony, moony . He’s trying to make sense of it, and has been for years, but he hasn’t really figured it out yet. He doesn’t feel it for James or Peter. The closest he can compare it to, well, the closest he can compare it to is when he dated Mary briefly early in his fifth year. But, that was his girlfriend, so there’s no way that can be what he’s feeling toward Remus, right? 

Right?

Sirius pushes that thought down. Not right now, thank you. 

“I’m going to grab something in the room,” Sirius says, getting up quickly. “I’ll be right back.”

Remus’ face goes from smug to— disappointed, or maybe confused, in a matter of seconds. “Did you want me to come with you?”

“No!” Sirius exclaims louder than he means to, “Sorry— er, no, it’s okay. You stay down here, guard the record player, yeah?” He turns and leaves before Remus has a chance to respond. He weaves through the crowd of people, flashing grins, offering hellos, and thanking people for birthday wishes as he goes. When he makes it to the staircase up to the boy’s dormitory, he jogs up the stairs, wrenching the door open and closing it quickly. He presses his back against the cold wood of it and wills his heart to stop pounding over— over nothing, honestly. Remus didn’t even do anything. Nothing even happened. So why does he feel so insane?

Without meaning to, Sirius thinks of his Uncle Alphard who he’s still been corresponding with regularly. Since this week was so chaotic he hasn’t responded to his birthday card and gifts yet. He resolves to do that tomorrow.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door to the dorm, making his way down the stairs again. As he enters the common room. Almost immediately, his eyes lock on Regulus, who must have walked into the party within the last few minutes. He standing near the wall with James, and the two of them are chatting quietly. Regulus’ mouth is moving quickly and his eyebrows are furrowed like he’s a bit worked up. James is listening intently, his eyes glued to Regulus’ face. 

Regulus pauses a moment and then shakes his head, gesturing with his hands. Whatever he said must have alarmed James because his mouth dips into a frown. Sirius has stopped now, standing from his vantage point by the dormitory staircase to watch this. Then, James reaches his hand out and without hesitation he places it on Regulus’ waist, gripping it slightly as he moves closer to Regulus, still frowning.

Sirius’ eyes hover on James’ hand gripping Regulus’ waist. It— it’s rather intimate, isn’t it? To hold someone there? James has never touched Sirius in that way and he’s never touched James that way. Sirius draws his brows together and watches as James leans down to whisper in his brother’s ear, his hand moving down to Regulus’ hip where it rests until Regulus draws back and nods. James removes his hand and the two of them begin walking toward the portrait hole.

Sirius is bewildered right now. Whatever he just saw… it made his skin prickle, like he wasn’t supposed to see it. He feels like he intruded and something is being hidden from him and he feels— he’s not entirely sure honestly. Sirius moves quickly to follow them, but just as he’s getting closer, preparing to call out their names, Remus appears. He grabs Sirius’ arm.

“There you are,” Remus smiles, his eyes a little bit tight. “Hunky Dory is about to be on. Let’s go over there.”

“Okay, but wait a second,” Sirius pauses, looking over Remus’ shoulder to see where James and Regulus are.

They’re walking out of the portrait hole and the last thing Sirius sees before they disappear behind it is James’ hand, placed on the small of Regulus’ back, guiding him out. He blinks, feeling lost. 

“Let’s go, Padfoot,” Remus urges. 

Sirius follows Remus through the crowd towards the DJ station, his mind racing. I mean, he knows that he has thoughts about Remus or Muggle celebrities sometimes, and he knows from his mother that he shouldn’t, but surely they haven’t penetrated his mind so deeply that now he’s second-guessing the way James is touching his little brother? That can’t be what’s happening right? I mean, some mates are just affectionate and James has always been happy to make contact with others. Regulus though, Regulus has never been touchy with others. When he and Sirius were still little, he still wasn’t as affectionate as Sirius. He’d let Sirius hug him, but he didn’t usually seek it out. 

Whatever Sirius just saw, whatever just happened, that didn’t seem like the first time, even if he hadn’t seen it before. The way Regulus leaned into James’ hand on his waist— that was more than familiar. That was… 

Remus looks back at Sirius over his shoulder, flashing his a grin. With a deep breath, Sirius smiles back, his mind straying.

-

So, basically, if anyone was wondering what Dumbledore said to Regulus, it’s pretty simple. Basically, Regulus is utterly and entirely fucked. He’s to begin training lessons with Dumbledore and Moody following Christmas. According to Dumbledore, this will include combat fighting, defensive spells, poisons, and Occlumency. He is, after all, training for war.

Dumbledore was very insistent upon the fact that the weight of all of this hung on Regulus’ shoulders. 

“It must be you, Regulus, who carries this out. Without you, this won’t be accomplished. The war will not end for decades.”

As desperately as Regulus wanted to ask why, why me? As bad as he wanted to ask how, how do you know it has to be me? He didn’t. He did what he always does when someone in authority tells him what to do. He nodded and he didn’t argue, not then.

-

When Regulus leaves Dumbledore’s office, he’s concentrating on his breathing so he doesn’t vomit on the flagstone floors of the castle.

He did pretty well during the meeting itself. Few reactions, multiple clever and calculated responses. He did pretty well, considering that the whole time he was begging himself not to let his voice crack or show that his hands were on the verge of trembling.

So, all things considered, it’s pretty impressive that Regulus swallows the lump in his throat and makes it all the way to Gryffindor Tower without wavering. Dumbledore told him he could tell people he trusted, truly trusted that he would begin training with him, which seemed rather contradictory to his previous statements where he said he couldn’t tell anyone what he was doing, but Regulus didn’t question it. He took it and ran. Perhaps he didn’t expect Regulus to trust anyone at all, or maybe he didn’t think Regulus had anyone to tell. Whatever the Headmaster’s thought process was, Regulus has someone and he’s going to tell him.

When he reaches the entrance to the Gryffindor dormitory, he doesn’t hesitate like he has done so many times in the past. He announces ‘Pygmy Puff’ immediately and walks into the dorm with ease.

Luckily, he spots who he’s looking for pretty quickly. 

James is standing at a snack table, chatting with some people Regulus doesn’t recognize. Even in his current state, as chaotic and distressed as he feels, he stops for a moment to admire James. He’s taller than all of the people he’s talking to and he’s smiling so wide that it’s like staring at the sun. Then, like he can sense Regulus stepping into the room, he turns and meets his eyes. If it’s even possible, he smiles even brighter, nearly blinding Regulus and everybody else in the room who just can’t seem to tear their eyes away.

“Reg,” He greets, “You’re here.”

“I’m here,” Regulus nods, and gets closer to James, tugging him away from the crowd surrounding them. “We need to go.”

“Go?” James questions, “We can’t go yet, it’s only just the start of the party, Reg. Sirius he’ll—”

“I know, James, but we need to go,” He lowers his voice, “Something has happened and I need to tell you about it.”

“What? Can’t you tell me here?”

Regulus is starting to get genuinely frustrated with James, which doesn’t happen often. He pauses, calming himself before he shakes his head and kind of— throws his hands in the air, but not quite, “No, we need to go somewhere else. Somewhere private.”

James frowns, visibly concerned by Regulus’ behavior. Regulus doesn’t blame him— he’s being vague and a little bit odd, but oh well. Necessary evils and all of that. James steps forward then, placing his hand on Regulus’ waist and squeezing slightly. And oh, James is so evil for that. He doesn’t know if he’s trying to distract Regulus or if he’s just being James. Either way, it’s working, whatever it is. It really starts to work when James leans down, whispering in Regulus’ ear, “The Come-And-Go Room?” His hand skates over Regulus’ side and rests on his hip.

Vaguely, Regulus registers that they should not be acting like this— touching each other and whispering and being close.  

“James,” he breathes, “You need to be careful, we’re at a party in front of a bunch of people.”

“No one is watching us,” James whispers, “Anyway, Come-And-Go Room?”

Regulus rolls his eyes before pulling away from James and nodding. 

They make their way through the party and Regulus realizes that James was largely right. No one seems to pay them any mind. As they climb through the portrait hole, James places his hand on the small on Regulus’ back, helping him out. He bites back a smile, despite everything. Despite the news he’s about to deliver. The news he still doesn’t know how to break.

-

The walk to the Room of Requirement is slightly tense because Regulus refuses to speak until they’re there. Miraculously, James had the invisibility cloak on him, so the two of them shuffled there in near silence, save for a few spare curses or sharp intakes of breath when one of them stepped on the other’s feet.

When they arrive, they step into the room and take off the cloak. 

“I think you should sit down,” Regulus grumbles, avoiding James’ eyes as he follows Regulus’ directions and sits on the couch. The way Regulus is acting— the vagueness, the silence, it’s making James feel anxious. He truly has no clue what Regulus is about to tell him and why it would be so urgent. There’s also the fact that he insisted on telling him in private. James feels his stomach flip and can’t help himself from blurting out.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

Regulus looks up sharply, his brow furrowed. He’s quiet for a second and then the despair starts to kick in for James. 

“Oh,” He breathes, “You are, aren’t you? What did I do wrong?”

“James—” Regulus begins, his voice pained.

“Shit, shit, shit,” James stammers, his eyes filling with tears without his permission. He never saw this coming. It’s never even crossed his mind, really, that Regulus would or could break up with him. They’ve both been so happy— or at least he thought so. He really thought they were happy. He puts his head in his hands, pressing the heels of them into his eyes.

“James,” Regulus says softly, kneeling so he’s on the same level as him, “Look at me, please.”

James doesn’t look at him. He keeps his eyes screwed shut and tries desperately to slow the quick breaths he’s taking as his ears ring. A pair of cold, soft hands grab his own and gently pry his hands away from his face.

When James opens his eyes, Regulus is right there, looking at him. “James, I’m not breaking up with you, you idiot.”

“You’re not?” James feels his heart rate begin to normalize and feels— well, he feels rather dumb now. And very, very small.

“No,” Regulus shakes his head resolutely, “I promise you I’m not.”

“But,” James pauses, “You hesitated— when I asked, you hesitated.”

“That’s because you asked if I was breaking up with you and I didn’t even realize that was something I could do,” Regulus continues when James just looks more confused. “What I mean is, I didn’t really know if we were dating. I didn’t know what this was. I was just a little bit taken aback, that’s all.”

“You didn’t know that we were dating?” James asks incredulously. He doesn’t know why he’s so shocked, it’s not like he really knew either. He knew on some level, but not really. They hadn’t ever given it a name.

Regulus lets out a small laugh, “I know I sound like the idiot now, but no, I guess I didn’t.”

A wet laugh escapes James, “I guess I didn’t either, now that I think about it.”

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” Regulus shakes his head, his lips twitching, "and I love you."

Then, he frowns. “But, I still have something to tell you.”

“What is it? Surely, it can’t be worse than that,” James jokes, glowing at Regulus’ affections. The humor he’s found in the situation fades as Regulus’ frown deepens.

“Depends who you ask, really,” Regulus murmurs. “I got a summons from Dumbledore today.”

“Oh?” James questions. “That’s not too bad. Are you in trouble?”

“In a sense, yeah.”

“In a sense?”

Regulus nods, averting his eyes again, “This wasn’t my first call to Dumbledore’s office this term.”

“Okay,” James says, slowly. “What was it for this time?”

“He wants me to help him,” Regulus informs him. “With the war, that is.”

“Reg, what? You’re joking, that’s so cool,” James smiles, ignoring the tug of jealousy in his chest because Dumbledore didn’t choose him.

“It’s not really,” Regulus shakes his head, scowling. “It’s not at all.”

“What? Why not?”

“James, he wants me to help with the war. He wants me to go home.”

“Home?” James’ stomach isn’t just doing flips at this point, it's got an entire choreographed routine, landing in all the worst places. “He wants you to— to go home? But… does that mean—”

“I have to return to Grimmauld Place.”

“Reg,” James whispers, “You can’t. Please— please don’t. Not just for me, but for Sirius. For yourself. You can’t go back there.”

“I’m sorry, love,” Regulus smiles sadly, “I already promised.”

“Promised what? Regulus, what does that mean?”

“I’ll go home with you for the Christmas holidays like we talked about, but then I’m going to have to go home— in the summer. I don’t think before then, but I’m really not sure.”

“How can you not be sure?” James questions, completely bewildered. “What does he even mean by that, ‘help with the war’?”

“It all depends,” Regulus says quietly. “The war could change at any given moment. It all depends.” 

“I don’t understand,” James skates his fingers through his hair. “Why you? Why do you have to be the one who helps Dumbledore? Reg, you’re a— you’re fifteen years old, surely Dumbledore can find someone more experienced.”

“This isn’t the first summons I’ve gotten from him, James. I’ve been waiting for this. Dreading this. He said it has to be me,” Regulus tells him, his eyes slightly widened, “It has to be me. I have to be the one to do it.”

“But, do what? What does this mean?” James asks again, feeling exasperated.

“I don’t know,” Regulus shakes his head slightly, “Anything, everything, maybe nothing, but it has to be me.”

James is speechless then, his mouth slightly open in confusion as he searches Regulus’ face for answers he doesn’t seem to have.

“I might seem… different soon,” Regulus tells him, squeezing his hands tighter, as if James would ever let it go to begin with. “But I promise, it’s just on the outside, okay? I’m not really going to be different, and you and me— we’re not going to be different either. Nothing can change you and me.”

“Okay, Regulus,” James nods, “I love you too.”

Regulus breaks into a smile, pressing their foreheads together and holding the back of James’ neck. “Thank you," He grips James tighter, locking eyes with him, something new flashing in his eyes, “You can’t tell anyone, James. You can’t tell anyone, okay? I’m sorry, I keep making you keep secrets, but this one,” Regulus swallows, his eyelids fluttering shut, “This one has to be kept.”

And oh, isn’t that what James should have expected right away? Another secret to hold, the weight distributed between himself and Regulus? 

“Okay, Reg,” James finds himself saying, “I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

Regulus lets out a shuddering breath and pulls James into a hug so tight, it causes him to let out a huff of breath. James holds him back, Regulus’ face buried into his neck. They stay like that for a while and not too long into it, as nice as it is, James realizes that Regulus is crying. Silent, hot tears falling onto James’ skin.

This is the first time, but not the last, that James will hold Regulus close and think about how much he hates Albus Dumbledore.

-

As much as Regulus wants to stay in the Room of Requirement, wrapped up in James, he knows that he’s living on begged and borrowed time, particularly when it comes to Sirius. So, the two of them head back to the party. 

They decide to arrive separately, to avoid any questions. James doesn’t think it’s necessary, but Regulus knows it is. Sirius wouldn’t like it, knowing that they were off together when they were meant to be at his birthday party.

When Regulus arrives, James has been there for about ten minutes already. Again, he walks into the Gryffindor common room without hesitation, telling himself he’s wanted there. He spots his brother and James immediately, speaking with Remus and Peter. He makes a beeline for the group.

‘Hello, Sirius,” He says, doing his best to sound at least slightly happy to be there.

“Reggie!” Sirius grins, raising his cup to him. “There you are! I was just asking James where you went, seeing as I watched you two leave through the portrait hole together. What were you doing anyway”

Sirius’ words are kind, and to most his tone probably is as well, but it has an accusatory bite to it that Regulus can easily detect. Sirius is annoyed and if Regulus isn’t wrong— suspicious about something.

Regulus glances at James, who’s smiling, but his eyes are tight around the corners. He gives Regulus the smallest shake of his head.

“I realized that I needed to pick something up for Prefect duties,” Regulus lies, easily. “I’m not supposed to be walking alone at night, so I asked James to join me since we have rounds together.” He shrugs, feigning nonchalance, “Then I got tired of having him around so I dropped it off at my dorm myself and came back here, hence why James arrives before me.”

Out of his peripheral vision, he can see James’ eyebrows shoot up, seemingly impressed— or scared, with Regulus’ talent for lying.

Sirius arches a brow, but he seems satisfied enough by Regulus’ answer. “Well, alright then. I guess we’ll get the party started then, won’t we?”

The party continues and Regulus has a decent time drinking and eating and watching people. It's interesting, with everything going on in his own life, to see people living such normal, simple lives. It makes him feel a little bit itchy, knowing he can't be afforded that same luxury.

Towards the end of the night, he’s standing by the wall, holding a cup and thinking hard. When he looks up towards the edge of the dance floor, he sees his brother watching him, his mouth set into a line.

Sirius isn’t satisfied by Regulus’ answer. Sirius knows something, Regulus just doesn’t know what or how he does.

Just another person on Regulus’ long list of people to please. The biggest difference between his brother and some of the others— the ones who forced his hand into placing them there, is that Regulus actually cares about Sirius and how he thinks and feels. That’s his big brother. How can he not?