Trust Myself
Proof's in the pudding
Stop pussy footing
Don't waste all your time just to be good-looking
If the maps on your ceiling give you some meaning
Follow them far just to see where they're leading
December 26th, 1976
Boxing Day is a quiet affair at the Potter's. That is, until there's an attack on Diagon Alley, and all six of them are there. James, Sirius, Remus, Regulus, Effie, and Monty. They're all there. They all survive, too. Regulus should feel grateful for that. It's miraculous that they survived.
He finds himself not feeling grateful, but rather guilty. Not because they survived, but because others did not. A certain other in particular.
Alphard.
The funny thing about it is that Regulus hadn't seen or spoken to Alphard in years before he was gifted the ring on Christmas. Had barely even thought about him, to be honest with you. So the ring was a pleasant surprise. It made Regulus feel cared for. Supported, despite it all.
And if Regulus is being really honest, he didn't even recognize him, when they saw him in Diagon Alley on Boxing Day. They were there for the sales, not for Alphard, so how could he be expected to recognize him? It was only when Sirius let out a yell of pure glee, yelled their uncle's name, and took off running that he realized. Regulus felt shy at that moment. Didn't know if he should tag along with Sirius to greet him.
But then, James had touched Regulus' back encouragingly, given him a little nod, and a squeeze, and Regulus had started forward. That is until Remus had grabbed him by the collar of his robes, yanking him back. Immediately after, he had screamed for Sirius, who stopped in his tracks and turned to look at the three of them.
That was good, that he turned to look at them. That means he missed seeing the way Alphard's body seemed to explode in a bout of flames of rubble. He didn't have to watch Alphard die.
Regulus did. Regulus will never forget it.
And it wasn't just Alphard who was brought down in the explosion. Dozens of people were killed, the Dark Mark cast over their bodies. The boys missed death by only a few feet.
All that Regulus can think is that they almost got Sirius.
They almost got Sirius. It’s hard to believe it was a coincidence.
—
Sirius has never been this close to death before. He’s heard about it, sure. Distant relatives have died, and people his friends knew have passed during his time at Hogwarts, but it’s never touched him before. Not until now. Not until Alphard. He can’t really wrap his head around it yet. It doesn’t feel real.
The thing is, death didn’t just touch him through Alphard’s death, although that’s very real and very literal— Sirius found dried blood on his leather jacket. He doesn’t know whose it is. He doesn’t want to know. The scariest thing is that death tried to take him too, today. Caressed him. Reached out towards him. It was only feet, maybe even inches, from grabbing hold of him. If it wasn’t for Moony— Sirius doesn’t want to think about what would have happened. Where he would be right now if Moony hadn’t called out for him.
“Sirius,” Remus murmurs, nudging his thigh with his knee. “Can I do anything?”
Sirius looks at him, startled slightly. Everyone is in the sitting room at Potter Cottage and Sirius isn’t sure how long they’ve been there. After the explosion, they were checked by healers and he and Regulus were extensively questioned by Ministry officials, much to Monty and Effie’s dismay. They’re just boys, Effie had growled. Those are our boys, and you have no right to accuse them of such a thing.
“Oh,” Sirius breathes. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog in his mind. “No, Moony, not really. I’m— I’m okay.”
Remus doesn’t look much like he believes him, which admittedly, he shouldn’t, but he drops it for the time being. “I’m here, okay?”
“Yeah,” Sirius whispers. “I know.”
Then, Remus does something Sirius isn’t expecting at all. He reaches for Sirius’ hand and slots their fingers together. Sirius stares at them, their hands interlocked. He’s always been touch-starved and desperate for affection, likely a side-effect of the home he grew up in, but this? This brings a comfort he wasn’t aware was possible at a time like this. He blinks back tears.
Now that he’s back, aware of his surroundings and not drowning in his own thoughts and grief, he redirects his attention to Regulus.
Regulus hasn’t spoken since they got back to the house. He was grilled the hardest of the two of them when questioned by the Ministry officials. He’s still the Black Heir , is what they had said, like that was reason enough to think Regulus might have had involvement in a mass killing on Boxing Day. That was the first time Sirius saw Monty lose his temper with someone, defending Regulus.
Sirius knows Regulus has issues, but what Black doesn’t? In fact, what person does? Sirius is also aware that Regulus will have to do some questionable things working under Dumbledore the way he is, but he also knows his little brother. He’s not capable of something like this. He wasn’t today and won’t be in the future. Regulus is no killer.
So, Sirius watches Regulus, trying to think of a way to help his little brother, even amid his grief. He’s— well, he’s not doing well, frankly. He’s practically catatonic from what Sirius can gather. He’s sitting on the floor, staring into space. His face is blank and his eyes are dead, like he’s not really there.
James is next to him and seems to be alternating between whispering in his ear and looking at him concerningly when he doesn’t respond. It’s clear Regulus is shaken up because James is also clutching his hand and holding it beneath his chin, like he’s scared someone will try to snatch it away from him. It’s not that this out of the question— but Sirius has never seen the two of them being affectionate like this and he’s pretty sure that if Regulus was aware of what was going on, or cared at all, that he wouldn’t be okay with James doing that in front of Effie or Monty.
As much as Sirius is still on the fence about his feelings about James and Regulus’ relationship, he feels grateful that his brother has someone capable of caring for him like this. James, even if he doesn’t realize it, brings a kind of comfort to others that’s rare. Regulus needs that.
You’d think that Sirius would be like Regulus is right now— distraught, catatonic, and completely affected. Maybe even more so, considering he was closest to Alphard. It’s not that he isn’t those things, because he is. It’s just that Sirius doesn’t know what to do with this. Doesn’t know how to process it, so instead he’s choosing to do what he’s always done best, at least in the past: focus on his little brother.
“Sirius,” James croaks, looking at him with wide, watery eyes. He’s noticed that Sirius is watching them. “I’m so sorry about Alphard. I— I know how important he was to you.” His voice cracks. “I’m so sorry.”
It’s then, when James, Sirius’ best friend in the entire world, acknowledges what happened, that reality seems to set in. His chest seems to give in on itself and suddenly he’s choking for air that won’t seem to fill his lungs. He realizes that his vision is going blurry and he’s not sure if it’s from tears or lack of oxygen.
“Sirius, love,” A voice says soothingly. “Breathe with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow. You’re okay. I’ve got you, love.”
Sirius tries. He tries so fucking hard to do what they’re telling him to, but it’s so hard. It doesn’t feel possible right now, to breathe functionally. The voice continues to urge him and rub small circles on his back as they do. Slowly, surely, he starts to breathe how he’s supposed to.
“Effie,” Sirius whimpers as tears stream down his cheeks. “Why did this happen?”
Mrs. Potter moves her hands from Sirius’ back to cup his face in her palms. “I don’t know, Sirius. It’s not fair.”
“They did it on purpose,” Sirius whispers. He’s known since it happened, he thinks, but he didn’t want to say it out loud because then he’d have to face it. “They knew that I loved him, I know they did. They killed him because of me. He never should have gotten close to me.”
Effie’s face crumples. “Oh, love. You can’t blame yourself. He wouldn’t have wanted you to. He loved you too, Sirius, so much. He would never regret having done that.”
Effie sounds so sure, and she’s never lied to Sirius before, so he wants to believe her, but he finds that he can’t. Not really. Who would be willing to die just to love him?
—
“James,” Remus calls from the kitchen. “Can you help me get the kettle?”
Remus doesn’t actually need help with the kettle. There is no kettle. He needs help figuring out what to do with Sirius, and Regulus too, he supposes.
“It should be on the hob,” James says, striding into the room. “Is it not there?” James casts a glance around the kitchen, his gaze landing on the kettle almost immediately. “Oh.” He looks to Remus, his brows pulled together in question.
“I—,” Remus falters and pinches the bridge of his nose. “How do we help them, James?”
James’ brows seem to furrow even deeper and he looks down at the ground before raising his eyes back to Remus’. He shakes his head. “I don’t know, Moony.”
And that— that’s just not what Remus was expecting him to say. James always seems to know what to do. Always knows how to make people feel better.
“I don’t think there’s any clear-cut way to make them feel better,” James admits, studying Remus. “I think we just… be there. Be there for them however we can. Whatever way they need us to.”
“How are we,” Remus trails off a bit. He glances at the doorway to the sitting room, where Sirius and Regulus are sitting with Effie and Monty. “How are we supposed to know what they need?”
James shrugs and shakes his head, smiling a little bit sadly at Remus. “I suppose we don’t unless we ask. We just do the best we can and ask when we think we need to. Sometimes, I think, just being around someone when they’re sad can make a world of difference. So I guess we can start there.”
“We’ve already been doing that,” Remus points out.
James smiles a bit wider at that. A little less sad, too. “Exactly. I’d say we’re doing okay so far. We just have to keep trying.”
They go back into the sitting room after that, kettle-less obviously, but no one seems to notice or mind. Sirius and Regulus are wearing twin expressions at the moment, both staring off into space on opposite sides of the room. It’s a bit scary how much they can look alike when they’re both so haunted.
James walks over to Sirius and sits down beside him. Remus goes to follow, but stops in his tracks, his eyes darting to Regulus, who’s sitting alone wrapped in a blanket. He looks so small and so young. This Regulus— this one right here in front of him— is the Regulus he had heard Sirius describe that first day on the Hogwarts Express and the years following. Sirius’ baby brother, Regulus. His best friend. Younger and smaller and more vulnerable. The one Sirius came to school with bruises and slashes for. Over the years, Remus has had a difficult time matching the Regulus that was first described to him with the one he saw. The Regulus that Remus saw at Hogwarts wasn’t that way. He might have been younger and smaller, but he never seemed more vulnerable than Sirius. He was cold, serious, and unflinching. Cruel at times. Unreadable, always.
But now? Now, Remus can see with startling clarity the little brother that Sirius saw and continues to see. Someone in need of protection. Someone worth protection. It’s a true testament to just how pained Sirius is right now that he’s allowing James to comfort him and isn’t sitting beside Regulus himself, attempting to soothe him.
Remus glances at James and Sirius one last time. James has Sirius. He’s speaking to him in hushed tones and pulling him into a hug. James has Sirius. So, as unsure of himself as he is, Remus makes a decision. Not just for Regulus’ sake, but for Sirius’. For James’.
He’s got Regulus.
“I’m not really sure how to talk about stuff like this,” Remus says, quietly. He’s sitting down next to Regulus. He has been for a few minutes now. “But I suppose a good place to start is to tell you that I’m sorry. I’m sorry for your loss and I’m sorry that this is something you have to go through.” He risks a glance at Regulus, who isn’t looking at him but has directed his gaze down to his socked feet instead of the wall ahead of him. Remus continues speaking, “I— I’ve never lost someone like that, but I have— I’ve lost other things. Things that hurt a lot. So, yeah. I’m really sorry, Regulus. It’s not fair.”
Silence stretches between them, but Remus doesn’t blame him. He doesn’t necessarily want a response from Regulus and he didn’t expect him to give one. He’s just trying. Trying to help. Trying to be a person Regulus can lean on because Sirius and James love him, so a part of Remus cares deeply and intrinsically for him as well.
“Thank you,” Regulus murmurs. “It feels like my fault. It always feels like my fault.”
Remus turns his head to look at Regulus, who still hasn’t looked at him yet. “It’s not your fault, Regulus. You didn’t know that would happen to him.” Remus feels dread climb up his spine, raising the hair on the back of his neck. He can’t help but remember his conversation with Regulus only a few days ago. The arrogant, careless way in which he spoke about going back home. Joining the Death Eaters. “You— Regulus, you didn’t know, did you?”
That gets Regulus to look at him. His eyes meet Remus’ and they’re so like Sirius’. Not the color, but the shape, and in this moment, the way they reveal emotion. Regulus’ grey eyes are cloudy with tears and raw with grief and Remus knows then— he knows Regulus didn’t know.
“I had no idea that was going to happen,” Regulus croaks, his eyes not leaving Remus’. “Do you think I would have let us go there if I had known? I know… I know that I can be the way that I am. I know I seem… callous, but I never would have let that happen. I never would have put any of your lives in danger.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you knew. I just,” Remus whispers. He is. He’s so sorry.
“You just had to ask,” Regulus cuts him off. His voice is flat like he’s unaffected, but Remus knows that’s not the truth.
This is the exact thing Sirius went through after he left Grimmauld— the blame of being a Black. The assumptions and scapegoating. It’s something Sirius still faces, sometimes. Like today, with the Ministry officials. Remus knows how much it hurts Sirius and here he is, doing it to his little brother.
The guilt could swallow him whole.
“I’m sorry,” Remus repeats.
“Don’t be.” Regulus shakes his head, his gaze going back to the floor. “I get it. I’d probably look to place blame on someone like me as well. Unfortunately, there are people out there who are even worse than me.”
“I know that,” Remus mutters and there’s a bit of an edge to his voice. Fenrir Greyback flashes before his eyes.
“Do you?” Regulus shoots him a sidelong glance.
“Yes,” Remus swallows. “I lost what I did because of someone much worse than you. A monster. You— Regulus, you’re not even that bad. You’re just— you’re cold. Hard to read. But you’re not a monster.”
“You should go to Sirius,” Regulus replies, his voice clipped.
“I will,” Remus has to refrain from rolling his eyes. Regulus is rather invested in him and Sirius if you ask him. “I want to tell you something.”
“Please don’t tell me that you’ve had a change of heart and I’m actually the Black brother you’re interested in,” Regulus sighs. “I know this is an emotional moment for all of us, but there’s no need to—”
“I’m a werewolf.”
“Oh,” Regulus breathes. “That.”
“What?” Remus turns to look at him sharply.
“I was wondering when we would get to that,” Regulus explains. He’s looking at Remus again.
“When we would…” Remus shakes his head. “What? What are you on about?”
“I’ve known for a couple of months now,” Regulus admits. When Remus goes to speak again, Regulus is faster. “It wasn’t James or Sirius who told me. It was Severus.”
“Snape told you?” Remus’ face heats, both with shame and anger. And fear. So much fear.
“Yes,” Regulus murmurs. “Do you remember how I was attacked on Halloween?” When Remus nods he continues. “It was Snape who did it. Part of it was because, well, he wouldn’t stop going on about you being a werewolf. It rather pissed me off, honestly. Although, I didn’t expect him to get so— vicious about it all. No offense, Lupin, but I probably wouldn’t have done it then, seeing as I almost died.”
Remus huffs out a laugh of pure disbelief. Regulus knew. Regulus knew and he— he never treated him any differently. He knew and he still encouraged Remus to pursue his brother. He knew Snape was telling the truth and he still— fought for him.
“Thank you, Regulus.”
“Don’t thank me,” Regulus dismisses, clearly uncomfortable with Remus’ gratitude. “Go to my brother. He needs you.”
So, Remus does just that. He takes James’ place, who goes back to Regulus’ side.
Carefully, he takes Sirius’ hand in his. He lets it rest under the blanket, just out of sight of the others.
“Moony,” Sirius whispers.
“Padfoot,” Remus replies instantly. He keeps his voice low as well.
“I know…” Sirius trails off a bit. “I know we haven’t talked yet and we probably should, but can we—”
“What do you need, Sirius? Tell me and I’ll give it to you. Anything you need.”
Sirius is quiet for a moment like he wasn’t expecting Remus to say something like that. He brings his eyes up to Remus’. They’re wide and glossy, and a little bit fearful. “Will you sleep with me tonight? I know you’ve never liked stuff like that, but I told James to go to Regulus and I just—”
“Of course,” Remus says, ignoring the flutter in his chest. “Of course, Pads.”
Sirius’ eyes flutter shut and he lets out an exhale of clear relief. “Thank you, Remus.”
When they fall asleep that night, tucked into Sirius’ bed, their fingers are interlocked again. This time, though, they rest atop the covers for anyone to see. It’s just the two of them now, though. No one to disturb, or judge, or interrupt.
It’s just the two of them. Remus wants it to stay that way. He desperately hopes it can stay that way, somehow.
—
The two of them are tangled up together, James and Regulus. They’ve been lying there in silence for some time now. The only acknowledgments of what happened have been Regulus’ quiet sniffles and James’ fingers reaching out to brush tears off the bridge of his nose. So, when Regulus speaks, it takes James by surprise a bit.
“Remus told me.” Regulus’ voice is slightly muffled by the way his face is pressed into James’ chest.
“Told you what, love?” James is distractedly carding his fingers through Regulus’ curls. He likes to watch the way they straighten out as his hands run the length of them, only to snap back into a ringlet once he reaches the end.
“That he’s a werewolf.” James’ hand freezes suddenly and one of Regulus’ curls bounces back into its shape as it leaves his fingertips.
“He—,” James stutters. “He told you?”
Regulus just nods into James’ chest and squeezes him a little bit tighter.
“Reg,” James murmurs, drawing back to look at Regulus. “I know you wouldn’t, but you can’t tell anyone. If anyone knew—”
“It would ruin his life,” Regulus finishes. His eyes are shining bright and determined as he gazes at James. “I wouldn’t do that.”
There’s so much finality in those four words that James doesn’t feel any flicker of doubt. Regulus wouldn’t do that. He knew that already, but hearing it said aloud, especially in that tone, fills James with a warmth and admiration for Regulus that he should already be accustomed to, but forgets about at times.
It’s not just that either. It’s not just that Regulus won’t tell. It’s that Remus told him. Remus trusted Regulus to tell him.
James isn’t one who struggles with words. Never has been. In fact, a lot of people think he’s rather good with words. That doesn’t mean he’s perfect though. Not in the slightest. This is one of the moments where words fail him.
Instead of speaking and stumbling over ‘thank you’s and ‘I know’s, he just leans forward slightly, bringing his lips to Regulus’. A soft, gentle one that he hopes conveys everything he wants to say and everything he feels.
—
December 27th, 1976
Considering the fact that his uncle got murdered yesterday, Regulus isn’t expecting much for his birthday.
However, he’s currently surrounded by very kind, very dramatic people. People who seem to bounce back a little easier than Regulus expected, honestly.
“Reggie!” Sirius shouts, launching himself onto Regulus’ bed with so much force that it shakes the bed, causing it to bump against the wall. “Waaaaake up! It’s your birthday! You’re sixteen!”
“Sirius,” Regulus grumbles, going stiff as a board. “You have thirty seconds to get off of me before I rip all of your hair out. All of it. Piece by piece.”
“Fine,” Sirius pouts and rolls over so he’s next to Regulus now. He looks at him eagerly, his eyes shining.
Regulus narrows his eyes at him. “Are you wearing Lupin’s jumper?”
Sirius doesn’t need to speak for Regulus to know the answer to that. His pale skin, much like Regulus’, flushes a dark shade of pink. He is wearing Lupin’s jumper.
“So you two figured that out then?”
Sirius just about splutters the way his mouth opens and closes so quickly. “Figured what out?”
Regulus rolls his eyes so hard he’s surprised they don’t fall out of his head. He wills himself to be calm and patient. Perhaps even kind and supportive. “I can’t tell if you’re trying to hide something or if you’re that much of an idiot.”
“Hey!” Sirius swats Regulus on the side of his head. “I’m not hiding anything and I’m not an idiot. Well, maybe occasionally, but so is James and—”
“Never mind, Sirius,” Regulus mutters, the corners of his lips twitching.
Sirius is quiet for a moment and Regulus can feel him staring as he watches the ceiling. Eventually, enough time has passed that Regulus knows Sirius is waiting to say something, or waiting for him to say something. He turns his head to look at him. “What is it?”
Sirius hesitates, dropping his eyes before bringing them back to Regulus’. “Are you… okay?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” Sirius says, softly. “Y’know, with Alphard. Not just Alphard either. I know this is your first Christmas, and now your birthday, away from them . I’m sure it’s not easy. I don’t want your birthday to be completely bogged down by all of this, and I’d honestly rather mourn or grieve or whatever on my own, but I wanted to know, I guess. I wanted to know if you were okay.”
“Oh,” Regulus breathes out. “I’m okay, I think. Up until yesterday, I was having a great time. I mean, in all honesty, it was probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had.”
“And you’re really okay? After yesterday?”
Regulus nods. “It was… hard, but mostly I was scared because— because they almost got you . It’s terrible about Alphard, and honestly, I feel a bit like it was my fault somehow, but I— we weren’t close, the way you two were. I hadn’t seen him since I was about seven years old, I don’t think.”
“You felt like it was your fault? Why?”
Regulus does a half-shrug and avoids Sirius’ eye. “I know mother and father are keeping an eye on me, I just don’t know how close of one. I never really interacted with Alphard, but I did have the ring and it makes me wonder if— I don’t know. They could detect the magical signature or something. Trace it back to him and—”
“Kill him,” Sirius finishes.
Again, Regulus nods. “Yeah.”
Sirius furrows his brow as Regulus speaks, and for a minute, he’s scared he’s said the wrong thing. Maybe being as honest as he was will cause Sirius to blame him for what happened to Alphard, but then his brother whispers, “I feel the same way. That they killed him because of me. They even did it in front of me— and like you said, I was almost a part of that attack too. I could have died with him and it would’ve been my fault. It is my fault, even now, that he’s dead.”
Regulus doesn’t respond immediately because, well, a bit of it is true. If the attack was in any way influenced by the members of the Black family who are Death Eaters, there’s no point in lying. Sirius’, and likely Regulus’, involvement with Alphard probably got him killed. It’s a tough pill to swallow, and it’s not fair. So, that’s what Regulus tells Sirius. “I’m sorry, Sirius. It’s— I know you were close with him. It’s not fair. They do these things with the intention of hurting others. Whatever will hurt the most. So, that’s what they did. We can— we can talk about it any time you want to. I'm not very good with things like this, but for you— for you I'll try.”
“If they really wanted to hurt me the most they’d kill you,” Sirius whispers, his voice thick.
“Well, it’s your lucky day,” Regulus responds, swallowing hard. “I don’t think they’ll ever do that. Goes against the whole ‘Black Heir’ and 'need to preserve the bloodline' thing, don’t you think?”
Sirius huffs out a wet, half-hearted laugh. “Yeah, I guess so.”
Regulus doesn’t respond to that. Instead, he just settles back into his pillows and lets his eyes flutter shut a moment. “Where’s James?”
“Downstairs,” Sirius says immediately. “He’s helping his mum with breakfast.”
Regulus hums.
“Reggie,” Sirius says, suddenly. His tone strong enough for Regulus’ eyes to fly open.
“What is it?”
“I— I don’t want to scare you, I just want to make sure you’re aware.”
“Okay,” Regulus says, slowly. “What is it?”
“If they could do this to me, or in some ways you, with Alphard, that means they can do it with a lot of people. Potentially, at least.”
Regulus squints at him. “What are you trying to say?”
Sirius sighs, swiping a hand over his face. “I guess I’m just saying… I know that you have to go home this summer, and I know you’re training, but you need to make sure that you can keep them out of your head. Not just because of me, but well, because of…”
“James,” Regulus murmurs as dread rests deep in the pit of his stomach.
“James,” Sirius nods. “Reggie, if they knew— if they knew, they’d kill him. Maybe even kill his family.”
“I know,” Regulus sighs. “I know, Sirius. I’m working on it and I’m doing well so far. He should be— both of you— should be safe.”
Sirius nods, but Regulus keeps going.
“If it’s not enough— if I’m getting ready to go back there and I feel like it’s not enough, I’ll end things with him. I’ll tell him it wasn’t real or wasn’t worth it, and leave him behind to keep him safe. I won’t let anything happen to him, Sirius, I promise.”
“Regulus,” Sirius says, incredulously. “That’s not what I said, or want you to do. That’s not what he would want either. I mean, Merlin, Reggie. You doing that— saying that. It would break him. I just want you to work hard on your Occlumency. I know you can do it— get really good that is, and that’s all I meant by it.”
“Let’s just go down for breakfast,” Regulus mutters, throwing the sheets off of himself. “Wouldn’t want to keep anyone waiting.
He doesn’t wait for Sirius’ response before he leaves the room, still in his pajamas.
—
The breakfast in question— the one that James was helping Mrs. Potter make— is a pretty typical English breakfast—eggs, sausages, grilled tomatoes, bacon, toast, and the like. However, there is one special guest, it seems.
Madeira cake.
Now, it might seem a bit out of the ordinary for Regulus to fixate on Madeira cake, seeing as it’s really quite simple, but he grew up in a house where he was barely allowed treats or sugar or anything happiness-inducing. Also, Mrs. Potter is so good at baking that it should be illegal.
He doesn’t like to mention that it’s also because it was the first thing he ate at the Potter’s house after he was tortured that didn’t taste like ash.
“Here you are, birthday boy,” Mrs. Potter smiles, placing a plate down in front of Regulus. “Bea!”
The Potter house elf comes quickly shuffling through the kitchen, her head bobbing happily. She places another plate in front of him. A slice of Madeira cake with a single candle in it. She snaps her fingers and the candle lights. With grins, everyone at the table begins to sing Happy Birthday to Regulus.
Regulus’ face burns, but he tries his best to take it all in. Everyone’s smiling faces. The smell of homecooked food and a house so full of warmth and love that it doesn’t feel real sometimes.
When everyone is done singing, Regulus thinks a moment of his wish. Once he’s got it, he leans forward, closes his eyes, and blows out the candle.
His wish won’t come true this year, he doesn’t think, but maybe it will someday.
Maybe it’ll work out for him.
—
“Are you having a good birthday so far?” James whispers, placing a hidden kiss on Regulus’ cheek. They’re still in the kitchen, but Effie is cleaning the kitchen with Bea and Fleamont is chatting with Remus and Sirius.
“The best,” Regulus responds, honestly. He gives James a small smile.
“Good,” James grins. “The gift was all right then?”
The gift was great, really. Nothing too extravagant. Just some new quills, sweets from Honeydukes, and a few books collectively from everyone in the house.
“Perfect,” Regulus nods.
James’ smile widens and he leans back in his chair. “What did Dorcas and Barty have to say? Did you get letters from anyone else?”
“Just happy birthday from those two,” Regulus tells him. “Evan and Pandora wished me a happy birthday as well. No gifts or anything, but I always tell them they have to pick between a Christmas or birthday present for me. They’re too close together to do both.”
James hums. “See, Reg, this is where you’re completely different from Sirius. If Sirius had the almost-Christmas birthday, we’d never hear the end of it. The whole week— maybe even the whole month, would simply be dedicated to that: Sirius and Christmas.”
“Yes, well, some of us prefer some peace and quiet,” Regulus says, primly. As if on cue, Sirius starts barking laughter and slamming his fist on the table. Regulus gives James a flat look and he dissolves into giggles.
“Why don’t you invite them over?” James asks, curiously.
“My friends?” Regulus asks, raising his eyebrows.
“Yeah,” James nods, tilting his head. “You can, you know that right? You should invite them over today, or for New Year’s.”
“I don’t know,” Regulus murmurs. “Would that really be okay with your parents?”
“Of course,” Monty interjects from across the table. He winks at Regulus. “Any friend of yours is a friend of ours.”
“It’s true, love,” Effie agrees from the kitchen sink, her back still to everyone. “We weren’t going to do anything for New Year’s, after what happened yesterday, but we figured that people could use a place to go. Somewhere to raise their spirits.”
Monty nods, glancing from his wife to Regulus. “Your friends could probably use the same. Go on and invite them over. I’m sure Peter will come, too. It’ll be an inter-house reunion, yeah?”
“Pete’s not coming,” James shakes his head, frowning slightly. “Said his mum won’t let him leave the house after what happened in Diagon. He was supposed to meet us there, y’know? He was running late though— didn’t ever make it. It must have spooked her.”
“Really?” Remus and Sirius say in unison. They look at each other and laugh.
“When did he tell you that?” Sirius asks, his voice suspicious. It catches Regulus’ attention. “He didn’t tell the rest of us.”
“Just last night, after everyone was in bed. I was still awake and his owl started tapping on the window. I had sent him one when we got back to Diagon asking if he was okay.”
“Well, you know how Pete’s mum is,” Effie quips. “He’s her baby. She just gets a little nervous, that’s all. She could still change her mind. In any case, Regulus should still invite his friends.”
To Regulus’ surprise, even Sirius agrees with Effie. So, Regulus decides to run upstairs and invite Dorcas and Barty to come over on New Year’s Eve. He knows better than to invite Evan to the Potter’s, and he’s not quite ready to see Pandora and face his task ahead, so it’s just those two.
The rest of the day is spent lounging about Potter Cottage reading, playing Gobstones, and even a bit of napping. It’s a cold, drizzly winter’s day, so the boys don’t go outside, but Regulus doesn’t mind. He quite enjoys the peaceful nothingness of the day. No worries or commitments. No family dinners or archaic coming-of-age rituals. It’s just a simple, sweet sixteenth birthday.
There have been a few moments where his mind wanders to Alphard, or the idea of losing James or Sirius, or even the blatant cruelty of his parents, but he manages to shove them down, locking them away in a book in his mind. He’s getting better at managing Occlumency without totally shutting down.
Mr. and Mrs, Potter leave after dinner and Regulus’ birthday cake, telling the boys they have some work obligations to attend to and that they’ll be back the next morning.
“Bea will be keeping a very watchful eye on you, so don’t try anything ridiculous,” Effie scolds, her voice playful.
“Yes, boys, listen to her,” Monty suppressing a smile. “And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Oh, lovely, Monty,” Effie says, flatly. “We’ll come home to the house burnt down now.”
“Oh, please,” Fleamont waves a dismissive hand through the air. “They’d manage something far more clever than that. We’ll probably come home to no house at all. They’d just relocate it entirely— never to be seen again.”
Mrs Potter rolls her eyes then, swatting her husband’s arm, but Regulus can see the smile she’s trying to bite down. It makes his lips twitch as well.
“Alright, well, we’re off then. Bea’s here if you need anything and we’ll be back by tomorrow morning, okay? We love you all very much and if there’s an emergency, tell Bea to call for us. We’ll come.”
“Oh, and happy birthday, Regulus!” Monty calls, just as he begins to turn.
With that, Effie and Monty disapparate, leaving the four boys to entertain themselves until tomorrow.
—
“So…” Remus says, hours later. “Another game of chess?”
“Moony, no,” James sighs, plopping back against the sofa. “We’ve already played chess about a dozen times.”
“You only like it because you always win since Pete’s not here,” Sirius grumbles, shooting Remus a glare.
“That’s not true,” Remus argues. “I don’t always win. Regulus wins sometimes, too.”
“Oh, that’s even worse,” Sirius grains, throwing his arms up in the air.
“Shut it,” Remus rolls his eyes. “Anyway, even if I did like chess because I always win, it wouldn’t be any different than James liking Quidditch for the same reason, but I don’t hear you harassing him about it.”
“That’s because Quidditch is interesting, Moony,” Sirius says, clearly exasperated. “And fun. ”
“I’ll play you, Lupin” Regulus offers. He’s tired of the arguing and like Remus said, he does win sometimes. Most of the time.
“Thank you, Regulus,” Lupin mutters, shooting another glare at Sirius, who squints at both Remus and Regulus.
“Knight to G-5.”
—
“I’ve watched you do this a million times and still can’t figure it out,” James grumbles as he attempts to roll a cigarette. The sun has set and they’re sitting at a table in the back garden now, at James’ insistence. They can smoke, sure, but they cannot smoke or roll inside the house. He does not want to die young at the hands of his mother.
“That’s because you don’t pay attention,” Regulus says, smiling sweetly at James as he perfectly rolls a cigarette because, of course, he can.
“Not even true,” James whines.
“It is true,” Remus agrees, not even looking up from the cigarette he’s rolling. “Pretend I’m talking about Quidditch or Regulus. Maybe you’ll manage to pay attention then.
James flushes, but he grins at Remus as he throws an arm around Regulus. “Okay, maybe you’re on the right track with that, Moony. Tell me how to do it again.”
“Kill me now,” Sirius begs, staring up at the sky. “Please, just end it now. I wasn’t meant to see such things.”
Remus smacks him upside the head.
—
“Would Bea really know if we took some Firewhiskey?” Sirius asks, sounding hopeful.
“I mean, probably,” James shrugs. “I think the better question is will Mum and Dad get angry if they find out.”
“Your parents are saints,” Regulus scoffs. “In what world do they get angry?”
“Not very often,” James admits, turning to look at Reg. “But it does happen occasionally. Mum can be a real terror when she feels like it.”
“I typically try to be on my best behavior at your parent’s house, James, but in the spirit of mischief and birthdays, I have to say— how angry could they get at us for stealing Fire Whiskey on Regulus’ birthday?” Remus questions. “I mean, it’s a thing to be celebrated.”
“Preferably with alcohol,” Sirius adds, winking at Remus.
“Oh, for Merlin’s sake,” Regulus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I don’t even care if we have alcohol, but if you’d like to blame it on my birthday, I guess I better be the one to take it. Accio Fire Whiskey.”
The three other boys literally erupt into cheers.
—
“Should we play truth or dare?” James asks, smiling easily. It’s late and he's had a few glasses of Fire Whiskey. He's feeling quite content.
“No,” Regulus and Remus say in unison.
Sirius wrinkles his nose looking at the two of them with a mixture of annoyance and fondness. “You two are so boring. Prongs, how are they so annoying?”
James just laughs. It’s been fun this break, seeing Remus and Regulus together. It’s clear they have an appreciation for the other, even if neither of them has said it. You can just tell that it’s there— that bond. It makes James’ chest feel warm.
“Y’know,” Sirius continues, wiping his mouth after taking a swig of his drink. “I think I insist that we play truth or dare. We’ve done what Regulus has wanted all day. Let’s appeal to the masses now.”
“It’s my birthday,” Regulus arches an eyebrow. “And that’s not even true. I didn’t care about the cigarettes or the alcohol. That was to appease you.”
“And you had fun, didn’t you?” Sirius arches an eyebrow back at his brother. James bites down on his lip hard, trying not to smile too big. They’re so— alike at times. It’s entertaining always, but especially when James is a little bit drunk.
“Whatever,” Regulus grumbles, rolling his eyes. He leans into James, resting his head on his shoulder. He’s so warm. James looks at him and smiles dopily before kissing the top of his head.
“Blergh,” Sirius grimaces, watching them. “Okay, now we have to do what I want to, to make up for me having to see that.”
He’s kidding— mostly, but James knows it’s a little bit truthful. So, he does what he does best. He makes Sirius happy. “Yeah, yeah, Pads. Let’s do it then. Who wants to go first?”
“I’ll go first!” Sirius volunteers, grinning. “Hmm… Regulus, my lovely brother, birthday boy, how will you have it? Truth or dare?”
Regulus stares at Sirius, holding his glass of whisky in between his fingers, lazily. “Truth.”
“Truth,” Sirius repeats, thinking. “Ah! Okay. Well, I never thought I’d want the details, but how did you and James start doing—,” he gestures at them, “this?”
James looks down at Regulus, curious to hear what he has to say. How much he’ll tell.
“Prefect rounds. That’s how it started at least. He likes to talk a lot. I realized I liked to listen.”
“That’s quite sweet actually,” Sirius admits, wrinkling his nose again. “But how did it go from talking to this?”
“I took him to the Honeydukes cellar,” James fills in. “After one of the Quidditch parties at the beginning of the year. We kissed in there. I suppose we had been building it up to it, but I hadn’t even realized it yet.”
“That’s the night we ran into them,” Remus adds, watching James and Regulus. “When we were rigging the Slytherin bathrooms? Remember? You thought they were plotting without us.”
“Oh, Merlin,” Sirius whispers. “You weren’t plotting, you were just snogging?!”
“Yep,” James grins, popping the ‘p’ extra loudly.
Sirius shakes his head, scolding him mockingly. “Okay then James, you said you didn’t realize it was building up to that. How on earth did you not know?”
“It’s not James’ turn,” Regulus mutters. “It’s my turn to ask someone.”
“Why do you have to be such a stickler for the rules, Reggie?”
“I just thought about him a lot,” James blurts, looking at Sirius. “Thought about him— what he’d think of things that I saw or heard or did. I wanted to tell him things, but like, stupid things. Just about my day and stuff. Oh, and there were the dreams.”
“The dreams?” Regulus questions, shifting to look at James.
“I don’t know if we want to hear this,” Remus murmurs.
“Oh, shut it, Moony. They weren’t like that. Well, not all of them were, anyway. Most of them were sweet, I guess. They weren’t always specifically about Regulus, but he was always there. Always on my mind, even when I was sleeping.”
Regulus turns pink, the high points of cheeks absolutely flushed. He looks lovely. James can’t help but let a smug grin spread across his face.
“You two are sickening,” Sirius sighs, fondly. “Okay, Reggie. Your turn.”
“Lupin,” Regulus says, immediately. “Truth or dare.”
Remus raises his brows but doesn’t object. “Dare.”
Regulus looks rather displeased at that, James notices. Regulus is silent for a beat before saying, “I dare you to tell the person you fancy that you fancy them.”
Remus’ face reddens immediately. He glances in between Regulus and Sirius, clearly panicking. Oh, James realizes, Regulus is meddling.
“How the hell is he supposed to do that?” Sirius grumbles, annoyed.
“It’d be pretty easy, actually,” Regulus says, lightly. “Wouldn’t it, Lupin?”
“Moony, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” James tells him. He wants Remus and Sirius to figure out their shit too, but he doesn’t think this is the best way to go about it.
“Well, now I’m curious,” Sirius murmurs, looking at Remus. “Who do you fancy? Can’t you at least tell us that?”
“I—,” Remus stutters. He closes his mouth and looks at James helplessly.
“You know Moony is private,” James says, quickly. “Can’t rush him into telling us anything, can we?”
“But it sounds like Regulus knows,” Sirius points out, suspiciously. “If he’s told Regulus, why can’t he tell us?”
James doesn’t know what to say to that, opening and closing his mouth again like a fish. Sirius’ eyes widen in surprise, and maybe a little bit of betrayal. “You know too?! Am I the only one who doesn’t know?”
“He didn’t tell me exactly,” James says, slowly. Carefully. “I just figured it out.”
Sirius throws his arms up in the air, clearly annoyed at this point. “I guess I just can’t be let in on the secret then, can I?”
“It’s not like that,” Remus mutters. “Telling them was different.”
“How?” Sirius questions, pushing Remus for answers.
“They’re— removed from it. You’re not.”
That hangs in the air between the four of them. James is practically holding his breath, waiting for Sirius to piece together what Remus is insinuating. He can feel Regulus go stiff against him, waiting as well.
“Is it—” Sirius furrows his brow. “Is it Mary? You fancy Mary and don’t want me to know because we dated?”
James practically deflates at that. Like a popped balloon. Merlin’s fucking Beard, he wants to take Sirius and shake him. He’s his best friend and he loves him so dearly, but sometimes he’s so willfully clueless. James has literally told him that Remus is mad for him. So much for making things easy on Moony for once. Although, that's not entirely Sirius' fault right now. Regulus gets a bit of credit for complicating things as well.
Remus huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “No, Sirius, it’s not Mary.”
“Bloody fucking hell,” Regulus exclaims, sitting up quickly. He’s had quite a few glasses of whiskey as well, so he wobbles back a bit. James places a hand on his back to steady him. “Can you just— Lupin, can I just say it? I’m begging you at this point. Put us all out of our misery.”
“What are you talking about?” Sirius asks at the same time that Remus grumbles, “Fine.”
“It’s you, you idiot. Remus fancies you and you fancy him. Go talk about it, snog, whatever.”
James is in shock at the moment, actually. Not once did he think this would be how Remus and Sirius got together.
“You’re fucking with me,” Sirius hisses. “Don’t fuck with me about something like that, Regulus. It’s— just— fuck you.”
Sirius scrambles up from his spot on the floor, also a bit wobbly on his feet, and quickly makes his way up the stairs. Within seconds, a door slams above them.
“Fuck,” Remus sighs, dropping his head in his hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Remus, it’s okay,” James assures him, crawling over to place a hand on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay, I—”
“Go and talk to him,” Regulus demands. “What are you doing just sitting there? Go talk to him and tell him that it’s true.”
Remus holds Regulus’ stare before nodding slightly and getting up, wiping his hands on his trousers. He heads upstairs, leaving Regulus and James alone.
“You probably shouldn’t have done that,” James tuts, half-heartedly, once a few minutes of silence have passed.
“I know,” Regulus admits, his voice small.
“Then why did you?” James asks, genuinely. He’s surprised that Regulus cared enough to bother with all of that.
Regulus sighs and places his head on his folded knees. He cracks one eye open to look at James. “I just— Sirius needs something good so desperately. After my parents, after me, after Alphard. I was scared if I didn’t get Remus to do it— it would never happen. I— I need to know he’s happy. That he has something, besides you, once I leave.”
James’ chest tightens. Another moment where Regulus and Sirius’ similarities shine. They’re both so desperate in the ways they love— possessive and controlling and desperate. It’s not that they’re trying to hurt anyone with the way they love, it’s just how it usually ends up. It makes James’ heart ache.
“I understand,” James murmurs, reaching out to push Regulus’ curls off his forehead.
“Do you?”
“Yes,” James nods. “It’s not exactly how I would have gone about it, but well, I get it. Hopefully, it worked.”
Regulus shuts his eyes again, his lips pressed into a thin line. He nods, jerkily. “Hopefully.”
"Hey," James murmurs, brushing his hand over Regulus' hair again. "Don't worry about it too much, okay? I'm sure it'll be fine. You did it because you care. You couldn't help it. And— I mean, Remus did agree to you saying it in the end. So, he can't get too upset with you over it."
"Timing is so important," Regulus whispers, opening his eyes to look at James. He looks almost— fearful. "Timing is everything. Everything happens when it's supposed to. What if— what if I ruined it because I couldn't wait? Because I wanted them to get together for my sake?"
James smiles, softly at Regulus. "Something like this can't be ruined that easily, Reg, I promise. It's going to be fine. They're going to be fine."
Regulus searches James' face, his eyes still wide, but he nods, seemingly agreeing with James. "Yeah."
"Let's go to bed, love. We'll find out if they've sorted through it by morning. Possibly before that, if Sirius can't contain his excitement."
Regulus cracks a smile at that. "He's going to be so insufferable, isn't he?"
"Probably," James grins. "And why shouldn't he be? Remus is quite the catch."
Regulus just hums in response, stretching his arms above his head as he yawns, but James has a feeling he agrees.