On Begged and Borrowed Time

So tell me to run

Or dare to sit and watch what we'll become

Late November, 1976

“James!” Regulus cries out, rushing forward to support him as he hyperventilates. “Look at what you’ve done, Pandora!”

Pandora is crying still and the tears keep coming, but she doesn’t move to help either of them. She sniffles, “I’m sorry Regulus. I’m so sorry.”

“Are you?” Regulus hisses. “Are you really?”

She nods fervently, and Regulus practically vibrates with anger when he sees her chin wobbling. She has no right to be the one crying in this situation. She brought this upon herself, no one else did. She is completely aware of the nature of Dumbledore’s actions and yet she still went to him, she still told him about the prophecy before she told Regulus. It’s December now and she’s been avoiding him since Halloween night. She’s been sitting on this for over a month, making Regulus feel like he’s done something wrong or disappointed her. She betrayed Regulus knowing full well that’s always been his greatest fear. Now, she’s upset James to the point of a panic attack. Regulus is done. He’s done.

“James,” Regulus says, his voice gentle even though it’s shaking. He takes James’ face in his chest, trying to ignore the pounding in his chest. He’s far out of his depth right now. “James, baby, look at me. I’m right here, okay? You’re okay. Breathe with me.”

James keeps inhaling far too quickly and his skin feels clammy beneath Regulus’ hands. Regulus pushes his damp hair off of his forehead to get it out of his face. “Baby, can you hear me? I’m right here. It’s Regulus. I’m right here. You’re okay.” When James doesn’t respond, Regulus turns around to look at Pandora. “Help me! Fucking get over here and do something!”

She scrambles forward, wiping tears from her cheeks, and kneels next to James.

“James,” Pandora whispers, her voice still thick with tears. “Listen to me, okay? You need to take slow, deep breaths, in and out. Look at Regulus while you do it. I’ll count and you look at Regulus and focus on your breathing.”

Pandora counts and slowly James’ breathing returns to a normal pace. When he finally seems to come back to reality, his chest is still moving with the heavy rise and fall of his deep breaths. Regulus is there the whole time, holding James’ face in his hands and whispering words of encouragement to him.

“Regulus,” James rasps, his eyes glassy as he stares desperately at Regulus. 

“Shh, you’re okay.” Regulus feels himself being proven right. All of this time he’s thought— no, he’s known, that James being involved with him would make everything more difficult. More painful for the both of them. Even though Regulus doesn’t know the details of the prophecy yet, he’s sure that if James wasn’t with him, he never would have found out about the other one. Never would’ve known that a fated death could potentially lie ahead. Not that Regulus would ever let that happen, even if James wasn’t his. He’s cared about James for so long that even if the two of them had never spoken beyond his first day on the Hogwarts Express, he would have done anything to protect James. He will do anything to protect James.

“James, do you want to go to the hospital wing?” Pandora asks, her voice small. She reaches her hand out to take James’ and Regulus pushes it away, covering James like he’s protecting him from something deadly. He feels like he is.

“I can take care of him now,” Regulus tells her, a sneer on his face. “You’ve done enough now, go on. Leave.”

Pandora flinches back as if the malice in Regulus’ words has a physical effect on her. As if it stings. Regulus has always had a soft spot for Pandora, a warm affection from childhood that’s never wavered. Now, however, anything he felt for her has frozen over, so cold to the touch that it burns. It burns and it burns and Regulus needs her to leave before he says something he regrets.

Regulus has always been good at going unseen and remaining unaffected. He has a natural ability to bottle up his emotions and keep going with little error. 

The thing that no one ever seems to realize, though, is that Regulus has so much waiting to be felt as a result of his lifetime of stoicism. He has love inside of him that would scare most people because of his dedication to devotion. When he’s hurt, or betrayed like he has been now, he has a rage in him the likes of which the world has never seen. If he’s not careful he’ll bring everyone down with it, including himself. 

“Leave,” Regulus croaks, wincing at the crack in his voice. He’s begging her at this point. He doesn’t want to be the kind of person who can set the people around him ablaze. One day he’ll have to, but he won’t start with Pandora, even if he can’t stand the sight of her. “I need you to leave right now.”

“Regulus,” James says, his voice much steadier and clearer now. Regulus looks down at him, prepared to do anything he needs. Anything. “She can’t leave yet— the prophecies. We need to know about the prophecies.”

“I think I’ll be the one to inform Mr. Black about those.”

Regulus, James, and Pandora’s heads whip in the direction of the voice, only to find the Headmaster standing there. His long white beard and beaded robes glow in the flickering candlelight and his shadow stands tall behind him, illuminated on the stone walls of the castle.

“My apologies for taking you all by surprise,” Dumbledore murmurs, clasping his hands in front of him. “I was preparing to go to bed after I met with Miss Malfoy when I heard— ah, a commotion. I thought it best for me to investigate the source.”

“Decided to care about student safety for once?” Regulus spits, utterly enraged by Dumbledore’s appearance. 

Dumbledore gives him a close-lipped smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Regulus, why don’t you join me in my study?”

“If you want him to go, you’ll let me go with him,” James demands while scrambling to sit up straighter from his place on the floor, his knees knocking against Regulus’ in the process. Regulus doesn’t look at him, but his face gets hot as he realizes the position the two of them are in. Regulus still has his hands on James’ face and is using his body to shield him from Pandora, which means that he’s practically in James’ lap at this point.

“I’m sure Regulus appreciates your loyalty, Mr. Potter, but I’m afraid this is a conversation best had alone. You will return to your dormitory, as will Miss Malfoy. I’m sure Regulus will fill the two of you in when he sees you next.”

James begins to protest, but Regulus silences him. He slides his hands down from the place on James’ cheeks and onto his shoulders, giving them a short but sharp squeeze. James looks at him with a question in his eyes and Regulus shakes his head.

He rises quickly and gracefully, smoothing his robes down. Without looking back at Pandora or James, he joins Dumbledore who places an age-withered hand on his shoulder and guides him into the staircase leading to his study.

—

The gargoyle that guards the entrance to the headmaster’s study moves back into place, blocking Regulus and Dumbledore’s retreating forms from view. James lets out a groan, quickly getting up. He rushes to the entrance, but the gargoyle won’t move. He can’t get in.

“Fuck!” James shouts, tugging at his hair. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“James,” Pandora murmurs. “It’s going to be alright, just try to calm down so you don’t have another panic attack. Let’s just head back—”

“You think it's going to be alright?” James’ voice is loud. Much louder than he wants it to be. It bounces off the walls around them, echoing throughout the hallway and Pandora shrinks back from him. James feels a rush of shame at his anger towards her. The fact that she’s clearly frightened by him right now. He lowers his voice, “Do you really think that?”

“They’re just going to have a conversation,” She responds, sheepishly. “He’s not going to hurt Regulus, James, I promise.”

“All of this is hurting Regulus, don’t you understand?” James scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. He’s always seen Pandora as one of Regulus’ smarter, more pleasant friends. Right now though? He’s in shock at her reaction to the whole situation. “You’ve known him since he was a child. Arguably, you know him better than I do. How can you not understand how fucked this is? How can you not see how heavy it’s weighing on him?”

“I do understand,” Pandora whispers, not meeting his eyes. “It’s the best way, James, even if it seems terrible. This— this in comparison to what the other options are is much better. I love Regulus. He’s my best friend— my brother. I wouldn’t let this happen if I knew there was a better option.”

“Then explain to me how this is the best option,” James pleads. His anger is quickly melting into distress, pooling into every corner of his being. “I need to understand what’s going on, Pandora, please.”

“I can’t tell you what you want to hear,” She shakes her head back at him. “I’m sorry. I wish I could, but it’s not my place. It’s not right for me to do so. Regulus will tell you once he knows, I’m sure of it. Until then, I can’t keep talking about it with you.”

“What?” James asks, incredulous. He’s on the verge of tearing his hair out at this point. “Pandora, stop fucking around and tell me what’s going on.”

“All I can tell you is that there are prophecies,” She says mournfully, looking into his eyes. “Regulus plays a part in both of them and so do you. This one though, this is the one that has to be fulfilled. The other must be circumvented in favor of it. For that to happen, Dumbledore has to be the one to tell Regulus the details, and Regulus needs to tell you.”

James stares at her, feeling like he’s losing his fucking mind. For once in his life, he’s truly at a loss for words. How did this happen? Why is it him? Why is it Regulus? What have either of them done to be targeted by fate the way that they are?

“I’m sorry,” Pandora repeats, her voice so full of sadness that it grips James’ heart. It’s one thing to apologize, but it’s another thing entirely to mean it so genuinely. He hasn’t heard those two words said so desperately since Sirius was apologizing to Remus after the prank. “I’m so sorry, James. Once Regulus tells you more, I’ll tell you as much as I can, I promise. Until then— until then I can’t. I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t give James time to respond. She turns on her heel and quickly hurries off in the direction of the dungeons, her pale hair floating behind her as she goes.

James tears his eyes away from the back of her head and stares down at the ground. He’s wearing the red Converse that he bought from a Muggle shop with Sirius last summer. They’re a little bit dirty, scuffed on the rubber from where he’s run around in them. It makes him feel rather childish. Rather small.

Yet again, James is left in a hallway at Hogwarts, wishing desperately for the wisdom of what to do.

—

“Regulus,” Dumbledore states once they’ve both sat down in his study. The two of them are back to their usual positions. Dumbledore sits behind his desk, slightly elevated above Regulus, who sits in a chair across from him. “I was hoping that this conversation would begin a bit differently.”

Regulus looks around the study, taking inventory of the sleeping portraits before he speaks. Phineas is absent from his frame, undoubtedly at Grimmauld Place.

“How long have you known there was a prophecy?” Regulus demands, not willing to waste his time with the round-about niceties that Dumbledore loves to employ.

“It’s been some time,” Dumbledore admits, keeping his blue eyes trained on Regulus. “It wasn’t until recently that I realized that it was specific to you. That I needed you to carry it out.”

“Why me?” Regulus asks. He doesn't care if he sounds petulant, he wants to know. Needs to know. Dumbledore is too intelligent and calculating to have just plucked Regulus from a crowd. 

"I know that you are capable," Dumbledore says.

"No," Regulus shakes his head. "That's bullshit. You barely spared a glance at me before I got to the Potter's, it was always Sirius you cared for. I know you know something, to have chosen me. I know there's more to it than my abilities."

Dumbledore watches him a moment, scanning his face.

"There were multiple prophecies about the war and what would change its tides, as Miss Malfoy began to tell you," Dumbledore murmurs, glancing down at his clasped hands a moment. He looks back up at Regulus, "As I said before, I believe that one of them is about you."

Regulus swallows harshly. It’s one thing to have the prophecy be something he has to help fulfill, but for it to actually be about him— that’s different. He’s not just a piece in the game like he thought he was. No, he’s no longer the powerless, expendable pawn he believed he was. He’s the queen. Maybe the king, if he’s the one who has to end it all.

Dumbledore continues. "At first, I believed it to be about Sirius due to the nature of his exit from your family home, but time proved me wrong, as it so often does. Miss Malfoy’s further insight into the prophecy aided my realization as well. Rather, it solidified it.” Dumbledore pauses, regarding Regulus. “There is another prophecy as well, one that calls into the future, of paths untaken. It would have been successful as well, I'm sure, but would have claimed many more lives and put an unborn child in danger, his only purpose in life being death."

"I was a child too," Regulus hisses. "I was fifteen when you asked this of me, all but dead in front of you. I still am fifteen! Does my life matter less to you than a hypothetical child?"

"No, Regulus, it does not," Dumbledore tells him, his eyes pitying, "But rather, I believe it means less to you."

"What are you talking about? Why would the child’s life matter to me, over my own?"

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives..."

Regulus doesn't understand. The prophecy, it means nothing to him. Sure, he can comprehend what it means, someone with the power to defeat Voldemort will be born, but what does it have to do with him? Why on earth would he care?

"I don't understand," Regulus admits, shaking his head slightly, "I don't know what that has to do with me— why I would care."

Dumbledore sighs heavily, taking off his spectacles, and looks into Regulus' eyes.

"That prophecy forewarns of James Potter's son."

Regulus quite literally feels his floor being pulled out beneath him as he realizes what Dumbledore is telling him. If it wasn't Regulus, it would have been James' son. Would it have been their son? The thought makes him a bit nauseous. 

"How do you know?" Regulus questions, only a whisper, "Prophecies— they're vague. How do you know?"

"There are many different types of Seers, Regulus. There are those who give prophecies, and there are those who can gaze into the future as if it were a window. Seers of that ability can take prophecies, give them, and explore the nature in which events take place. They do not know everything, but in most cases, they know enough. Your friend, Pandora Malfoy— she is a Seer of the second category."

"Pandora told you? She looked into the future for you?" Regulus feels his hands begin to shake. He clasps them together to hide it.

"For me? No, Regulus, for the sake of life as we know it. Although, it was a mistake, from what I’ve gathered. She, ah… stumbled into it, I suppose."

"It's James' son. James and..." Regulus swallows harshly, "James and who?"

Dumbledore is quiet for a long moment, surveying Regulus who begins to itch under his gaze. "Lily Evans."

Lily Evans. Lily Evans. 

There’s a timeline somewhere, maybe even one that could happen here, in which James and Lily have a child together. A timeline in which they’re together. A timeline in which James finally got what he wanted. A timeline in which he never wants Regulus.

And then James dies. The mother of his child dies. His son dies.

Well, Regulus can’t help but think he’s the better option all around with that in mind. I mean, he’s got a lot of shit going on, there’s no denying that, but at least James won’t die.

Regulus is in shock, or something like it, so when a laugh bubbles out of him, he tries not to feel like a bad person. He covers his mouth with his hand to stifle it and looks at Dumbledore, who raises his eyebrows at him. Regulus smooths his expression, straightening his mouth into a thin line. 

"So, you thought that I would rather do this, sacrifice myself than allow James and Lily's son to die?" It's not that Dumbledore is wrong— he's not. It's the assumption. It’s the fact that he’s right. How is it that Dumbledore is more aware of his weaknesses than he is?

"Partially, yes. Mostly though, it was because this is the only prophecy in which James survives the war."

“I–,” Regulus stammers, opening and closing his mouth. “What? What did you just say?”

“If this prophecy that concerns you does not come to fruition, then James Potter will die. There’s no timeline, except for the one in which you do what is necessary to end this war, that James survives. Your brother and many of their friends will die as well, in that case. Many of your friends will die as well. However, I thought that James would likely concern you the most.”

Regulus snaps his jaw shut. There’s nothing that he could say in response that would be good enough right now. Sometimes, Regulus wonders if Dumbledore has ever put himself in other people’s positions. Here he is, almost sixteen years old, and told that if he doesn’t fulfill a prophecy, which he didn’t even know about until about ten minutes ago, everyone he loves is going to die. 

Am I going to die? Regulus wonders. Dumbledore hasn’t touched on that yet, which Regulus finds a bit suspicious. He doubts the headmaster would care much if he did. Regulus has seen how Dumbledore treats Sirius and James in comparison to him. Dumbledore holds a fondness for them that is not there for Regulus. He can’t help but feel like he’s not the hero Dumbledore wanted. If that’s the case, then honestly Dumbledore can go fuck himself. He can anyway, but his evident disdain for Regulus is infuriating. Regulus doesn’t want any part of this. He doesn’t want to be the one settled with this.

But then, he realizes what Dumbledore is implying in saying that Regulus would care most about James’ survival. Regulus has had an inkling for a while, which he largely contributed to his general sense of paranoia, that Dumbledore was aware of Regulus’ feelings for James. There were comments, veiled threats, and knowing looks that deep down Regulus knew couldn’t be coincidences.

“In this other prophecy,” Regulus begins, his voice weak. “James has to die for it to be fulfilled?”

“No, not necessarily,” Dumbledore tells him. His face is impassive and Regulus can’t discern his expression from one of boredom. “However, it seems that in most scenarios James does die under that course of action. As does Sirius, and Lily Evans. Many others. Collateral damage, if you will, for a war that wages on for decades. This is what Pandora has been able to understand, at least.”

“And me?” Regulus questions. The image of a dead Sirius flickers in his mind and he falters. “Do I survive in that timeline?”

“No, Regulus, you do not.” Even in a moment like this, he shows Regulus little to no pity. “From what Miss Malfoy has discerned, you will die alone, as a traitor to your family.”

“What? A traitor to my family? Am I— Do I die aiding the Order?”

“That remains unclear,” Dumbledore murmurs. “Miss Malfoy’s abilities only extend so far. There are things she cannot see, or not completely interpret. It’s for that same reason that we do not know exactly how the war will end. Just that it will end with you. It's unclear if you survive in the process.”

Regulus blinks. He doesn’t know how to process this. It’s all so— unbelievable, honestly. Before he left the Potter’s and Dumbledore approached him, he never would have betrayed his family, no matter how bad it got. He’s always been weak when it comes to them, desperate for their approval. Does he still love James in that other timeline? Still leave Grimmauld? Does James leave Regulus for Lily? Are they together at all? He has so many questions. Questions he knows will go unanswered because he can’t bring himself to ask them. Who knows if Dumbledore would have the answers? And how humiliating would that be? To be told of death and war and only ask of the nature of his relationship with James? He can't even let himself think about the fact that he might die doing all of this. Not now. Not with everything else.

“You care deeply for James,” Dumbledore comments, bringing him up again . It’s not a question. He’s just— saying it. It doesn’t even sound like he’s asking Regulus for confirmation. It’s like he just knows.

“You seem so sure of yourself,” Regulus snarls. “Is there something you’d like to say? Is there something you’d like to tell me, hm? Something you’d like to ask me?

Dumbledore hums, sitting back in his chair. “What is the answer you’re looking for, Regulus? Would you like to know what I know about your relationship with Mr. Potter? How I came to know it? What is it you wish for me to say? I have a feeling that you ask this question with intention.”

Regulus glares at him, clenching his fists. He’s so angry. Not just at Dumbledore anymore. He’s angry at the world, at Pandora, at his parents. He’s angry at himself because for some reason the universe keeps throwing shit at him, and the only common denominator is him. He’s the issue. He’s the wrinkle in the plan, and now, the one thing he had is crumbling beneath him. The one thing that was all his and all good, is being sullied by Dumbledore and his plans. Sullied by time and fate and things he'll never be able to control.

“I know you care deeply for James and he cares deeply for you, perhaps in a way you would prefer others to not know. I know you would sacrifice yourself for James or put yourself before him because I am aware of the relationship the two of you share. I know it because not only do you love James, you love Sirius, and Sirius loves James. James loves Sirius. These are things that are important to you,” Dumbledore pauses. “How I came to know it is not relevant. I’ve told you before, Regulus, this castle holds many secrets, but I do not know all of them. This happens to be one that I do know.”

“I hate you,” Regulus hisses. He has no need for decorum at this point. No reason to control himself. If there’s a prophecy about him then Dumbledore needs him and he’ll tolerate whatever verbal abuse Regulus throws at him. Anything for the greater good, right?

“That’s fine,” Dumbledore says, his voice very calm. “I do not expect you to particularly like me, Regulus, but you will let me help you. You will not achieve this without me.”

“Is that what the prophecy says?” Regulus asks, arching a brow. “If the prophecy is about me then why wouldn’t I be able to do it without you?”

“I would not attempt to do so, Regulus,” Dumbledore sighs, finally losing a bit of patience with him. That’s what Regulus wants on some level: a real reaction out of the headmaster.

“What is the prophecy?” Regulus questions. “We’ve had this whole conversation and you’ve yet to tell me. Is that not key to this entire plan of yours?”

Once again, Dumbledore surveys him over his half-moon-shaped glasses. He seems to resign himself, sighing quietly before speaking. “As the season fades… A born lion forced snake emerges from a house of ashes… Bred of blood and virtue, he who rises from the flames will defeat the Dark Lord… Seen as a companion and armed with the weapons of the former… Left to destroy as death dictates… For the soul cannot remain fragmented nor whole if the lion prowls.”

“That’s still a bit vague,” Regulus grumbles, weakly. It’s a bit on the nose actually, at least the beginning of it. “It could be someone else.”

“Perhaps then, you can see how I believed it was referring to your brother when I first heard it,” Dumbledore muses, watching Regulus intently. ‘However, Sirius was never forced to be a snake. He was never a Slytherin, never went along with your parents’ wishes. He was born a lion and stayed that way. But you, Regulus, the heart of the lion, as your name depicts, you were born a lion and forced a snake. It is you who left your family home at the end of the summer season. You, bred of blood and virtue by the will of your parents and your own conscience. It is you who this prophecy refers to. It is you who will get close to Voldemort and destroy him… As death dictates. He cannot remain alive— injury or imprisonment will not do. Voldemort's soul cannot be fragmented or whole, it must be gone. He must die.”

“How?” Regulus whispers, searching Dumbledore’s face. “How am I going to do that?”

“I’m afraid I do not know exactly,” Dumbledore murmurs, his voice genuinely apologetic for once. “However, I believe it will come to us in time. Pandora’s vision was hard for her to decipher, but it brought the clarity to identify you as the sole focus.”

“Okay,” Regulus says. What else is there to say? He has to just— resign himself to his fate. Literally. Prophecies are prophecies. They will be fulfilled whether it’s wanted or not. Regulus hasn’t spent much time studying them, or much of Divination at all, but he knows that in the rare instance that multiple prophecies are presented for a single situation, they can be circumvented in favor of the one desired. Dumbledore is right too, Regulus does care that James will die. He cares that Sirius will die. Even Lily, who he barely knows. He doesn’t want any of them to die. He’d take death himself over any of them. They’re all so good. Regulus has never been good like that. Unquestionably good. He never will be. 

He’s going to try his best to be good now, though. To make up for who he is. To protect who he loves. He’ll do whatever it takes. He’ll be bad for the sake of good. He’s prepared to do whatever it takes to make it all worth it. 

Dumbledore seems pleased then. His lips tip up in a smile, an expression meant to be warm, but so foreign to Regulus that it sends chills down his spine. 

He’s afraid. It doesn’t matter. He’s prepared to do whatever it takes to make it all worth it.