Fools in a Fable
Hand on the throttle
Thought I caught lightning in a bottle
Oh, but it's gone again
And it was written
I got cursed like Eve got bitten
Oh, was it punishment?
February 14th, 1977
Since Regulus was young, he’s been aware of lines. There are lines, invisible to the human eye, that are ever-present. Sometimes you’re made aware of them and other times you’re expected to detect and mind them without warning.
He grew up with a multitude of lines. He always minded them. Looked after them, categorized them, and made note to never approach them.
There are some lines that shouldn’t be crossed, but can be without irreparable damage. That’s the finicky thing about these invisible lines—they aren’t all the same. For example, breaking your mother’s vase or speaking without being spoken to—those are minor offenses in the grand scheme of things. Even vanishing your brother’s hair before a state dinner is one that you can come back from.
Then, there are the lines that are impossible to come back from. The ones that do cause irreparable damage. Take, for instance, denouncing the Dark Lord and running away from home despite your role as heir to the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. Or, maybe, calling one of your brother and boyfriend’s closest friends a slur. A slur that’s so demoralizing that you’d never called anyone that, despite being begged and taunted to do so for years.
The other tricky thing about these lines, some of which you’ve grown up with and others that you’ve put in place for yourself, is that you can cross them without the intention to. One miscalculated move and there you are, standing on the other side of the line, wondering how you got there. You never meant to. You didn’t even realize that’s where you were headed, but that’s where you wound up.
“I said run along,” Regulus sneered at his brother, raising his chin and looking down his nose at him. “And take your Mudblood with you.”
It took six words for Regulus to tumble over the edge and past that particular line. Just one word, really. There’s no one to blame but himself when the situation is all set and done. Regulus chose to say it. In many ways, this situation points out something Regulus has always known—he is both the victim and perpetrator of his fate.
Regulus left the party not long after he said it, with his housemates trailing close behind him. They seemed to know better than to speak to him after what happened. Even Barty and Evan remained behind him, not far, but just enough distance to give Regulus space. As they walked down the hall and back to the dungeons he could still hear Sirius yelling. He ignored it.
The most surprising thing about it all was that Regulus didn’t feel anything when he said it. He didn’t plan on saying it either—the usage of the word didn’t light up in his head like some blood purist light blub—it just happened. Funny how that works, isn’t it? The way you can change everything, maybe even strip away a part of yourself, without a second thought. When he said it, he realized immediately that he did, but he felt nothing, aside from a little bit of surprise at the way it rolled off his tongue like he was born to say it. Then again he was, so the surprise was short-lived. He felt nothing once that wore off. He watched his brother lunge at him and scream, clearly distraught by his actions, and still Regulus felt nothing. Not even a flicker of guilt or remorse. He watched his brother on the verge of tears and wasn’t moved in the slightest. In fact, he considered doubling down. Maybe throwing a curse Sirius’ way, or even worse, at Remus. He didn’t though. He decided that was enough and turned away, only to catch James’ gaze in the process.
It’s important to make it known that Regulus loves his brother, desperately. This isn’t something that he’s trying to dissuade himself from believing. If it wasn’t for his Occlumency, he would have, without a doubt, crumbled under Sirius’ disappointment in him. But, Regulus did have his Occlumency and it protected him, even from his desperate and cloying love for his brother. He’s known that it could. It has, before, in situations far worse than this one.
The one thing it can’t seem to protect him from is his love for James.
All it took was catching his eye after a moment of cruelty and dissonance for Regulus’ armor to crack straight down the middle and cause his shields to come down, leaving him vulnerable and unprotected. It was in that split-second when their eyes met that Regulus finally understood what the look was that James was giving him earlier in the night, and again in that moment.
He was looking at him like he didn’t recognize him.
Time felt like it slowed down when their eyes met from across the room and Regulus saw James at the edge of the crowd, motionless. Even under the veil of Occlumency, Regulus knows how James looks at him, that’s why he was able to recognize its foreignness earlier. The way James looks at him is one of the few consistent and comforting things that Regulus has left. James looks at Regulus like he’s the sun. This was the second time he saw this new, unwelcome look on James’ face, but it was amplified in that momentary exchange and the walls came down. Instead of fondness in James’ eyes, Regulus saw his confusion. The usual adoration was replaced with fear.
Regulus is surprised that his charade wasn’t exposed right then and there. He could practically hear his heart breaking in his chest, seeing the way he’d let James down. He doesn’t know how he’s going to manage it going forward. It’s just going to keep happening.
One of the few benefits that are a direct result of being raised by Walburga is Regulus’ ability to school his emotions and maintain his expressions. So, even though he wanted to tell James that he was sorry and that he didn’t mean it and beg him to forgive him and love him the same, he managed not to, tearing his gaze away and working quickly to get his shields back in place. He restored them with relative ease, but he’s aware that all it takes in the presence of the wrong person is a millisecond before everything he’s working so hard to hide is revealed.
So, that night, with the help of James’ pain, Regulus begins to accept that he won’t always be allowed the comfort of James’ gaze. Instead, he finds it elsewhere, particularly in the white-hot burn of a pocket watch and a hand pointing toward progress.
—
February 15th, 1977
When Sirius wakes up the morning after Slughorn’s party, he’s allowed the temporary respite of morning haze before the events of the night before come rushing back to him. The moment he passes through the final bits of sleep and into full-fledged consciousness, his eyes pop open and his heart pounds in his chest. He takes a deep breath in and holds it there, testing the limits of his need for oxygen. When it feels like his lungs are burning from the inside out and he feels dizzy despite lying down he exhales and breathes back in desperately, inhaling air as quickly as he can. With the air back in his lungs, the dizziness remains, and he closes his eyes, seeing spots in his vision even behind the darkness of his eyelids.
It takes him a few more minutes of recounting everything that happened before he realizes that the warmth of Remus, who happens to run extremely hot and always causes Sirius to wake up slick with sweat on the side closest to him, is absent. He opens his eyes again, more gently this time, and turns to look at the spot where Remus usually lies. The sheets are rumpled, proof that he was there at one point, probably not too long ago. Sirius stretches, letting his body crack and pull from the night spent squished into a twin bed with another person, before he braces himself to go downstairs.
When he parts the curtains around the bed, Sirius finds that the dorm is completely empty. It’s nothing out of the ordinary—Sirius always has the longest lie-in of the boys, but something about the air in the room feels different. It’s far too quiet, especially for a room that’s typically filled to the brim with sounds of people living. Sirius rises, pulling a pair of pyjamas over his pants before he grabs a t-shirt and leaves the dorm.
As he walks down the stairs to the common room, Sirius pulls his hair back and ties it in a ponytail at the base of his neck. He didn’t bother to check the time before he left the dorm, so he’s not sure who he’ll find waiting for him. It’s a Sunday, so Remus will probably be in the library and James is likely off exercising or something else as equally ridiculous and Quidditch-related. He could even be talking to Regulus. Peter has his chess club on Sundays, but Sirius can never remember the time it takes place. If it hasn’t happened yet, or if it already did, that means he’ll probably be downstairs and playing a game of chess. Sirius wouldn’t mind a game with Wormtail. It would be nice to have a moment of normalcy. If he’s down there, Sirius won’t even bother trying to beat him. He’ll just let Peter kick his ass at it like he usually does.
This train of thought passes through Sirius’ head before he’s done making his way downstairs, coming in rapid succession the way that plans and presumptions always do. When he finally makes it down the final step, he finds that none of what he imagined seems to be how it is this morning in Gryffindor tower.
There’s a small crowd gathered in the center of the room, but otherwise it’s empty. It consists of James, Remus, Peter, Marlene, Frank, and Alice. In the center sits Lily and Mary. They’re all speaking in hushed tones when they notice Sirius, falling silent once they see him.
“Hello,” Sirius laughs nervously. He wishes he had left his hair down so he had something to fidget with. “Am I intruding on something?”
They stare at him, hesitating just long enough that the smile on Sirius’ face falls.
“Of course not, Padfoot,” James murmurs, finally. He gives Sirius a small smile and motions for him to join them. The strain in his eyes signals something to Sirius immediately: a warning.
“We’re talking about your brother,” Mary says, flatly. Narrowing her eyes, she looks at him as if she’s daring him to object.
“What exactly are you saying?” Sirius questions. He keeps his voice light and his expression smooth. He knows Mary well, having known her since they were eleven and dating her for a brief period. Best not to poke the bear.
“He called Lily a Mudblood,” Mary snaps. “He said it to you, so don’t like you don’t know what he did. Let me guess, you have an explanation for him?”
Sirius shifts uncomfortably. He looks from Mary to Remus, who twists his mouth like he has something to say, but can’t. Finally, he glances at Lily. She’s looking at him already and she looks exhausted. Sirius exhales, looking back at Mary, “What is there I could say to excuse what he said? There’s nothing I can think of, personally. He’s a piece of shit, just like the rest of the Slytherins.”
Mary stares at him, waiting for him to crack, but when he doesn’t falter under her gaze she purses her lips, nodding tightly. Lily looks at him too, a wrinkle forming in between her ginger brows. Sirius doesn’t let himself read into it.
“What are we going to do about it?” Alice asks, crossing her arms. “I mean, we have to do something right?”
“What do you mean ‘do something about it’?” Remus questions immediately. “What is there to do?”
“He deserves some kind of repercussion,” Alice explains. “And Lily deserves justice of some sort.”
“And how exactly do you plan on going about that, Prewett?” Remus raises his brows. “A raid on the Slytherin dorms? Curse him in the Great Hall? Or oh, I know, get a hit in with a bludger at the next Quidditch game?”
“What the fuck is your problem?” Alice demands. “You don’t think he deserves something for what he said?”
Remus laughs cruelly and Sirius doesn’t have a clue where he’s going with this. “Of course he does, but so does every other Slytherin who’s called someone a Mudblood or any of the other disgusting shit they come up with. What makes Regulus different than them? More deserving of retribution? Is it because it was Lily? I never heard you say this so seriously when people called Mary that. Or me, or Marlene. In fact, you didn’t even say this when Snape did the same thing last year. So why now?”
Next to Sirius, James presses their criss-crossed knees together, giving Sirius support, or maybe, looking for it in return.
“It’s the final fucking straw!” Alice cries. She looks at Frank, likely for support. “It’s gone too far. Regulus Black is the bloody ring leader. He tried to act like he wasn’t, but it was all an act and now he’s showing just how committed he is. How can you not see it? James, aren’t you worried about the fact that you had him in your house and he’s this way? Who’s to say it wasn’t all a ploy? That he wasn’t spying on your family and Sirius?”
“Sirius is my family,” James mutters.
“Oh, come off it with that,” Alice rolls her eyes. “Answer my question, Potter. Are you really too arrogant to realize that you’ve been duped? What’s the saying again, a wolf in sheep’s clothing? That’s exactly what Regulus is! At least the others have always been upfront about where they stand.”
“My brother showed up on the Potter’s doorstep inches away from death,” Sirius says, quietly. Alice turns from James to look at him. “He spent weeks recovering. He was so fucked in the head that he couldn’t leave his bedroom because he was too afraid that my mother and father were coming to get him. I know you all hate him, and—” Sirius hesitates, licking his lips, “And I do too. But I also know him better than any of you, no matter what you want to say, and I know that Regulus didn’t wind up in that state for sake of spying. He doesn’t have it in him. He can’t fake it like that.”
“Then how do you explain Christmas and New Year’s Eve?” Mary questions. “I never would have thought he was on their side then. Explain that, Sirius, if you know him so well.”
“I can’t,” Sirius lies. “I don’t know what happened or who got to him. I’m not denying that he’s one of them. I’m just saying that he wasn’t always. For a brief moment, he wasn’t. I think that’s an important distinction.”
“Why?”
“What?” Sirius looks at Lily, who’s finally spoken. She’s wearing a large jumper and her hair is in a braid, red flyaways framing her head like a halo. She looks back at him, her brows drawn.
“Why do you think that’s an important distinction?” Lily asks. “That he wasn’t always one of them?”
“I—” Sirius stammers, trying desperately to come up with a reason. “Because he’s my brother and I know he has some good in him. Or at least he did, once.”
“That’s how I felt about Severus for a long time,” Lily says, sadly. “I still do, sometimes. The thing is, they’re different, Sirius.”
“What do you mean?”
“Regulus had a choice. A way out,” Lily murmurs. “He had that choice, one so genuine and viable that he’d have to be an absolute fool to not take it. Or rather, he’d have to be a dedicated, full-fledged blood purist. Severus never had that option, so I still cling to the chance that what he does is out of desperation. I don’t know if Regulus has ever experienced desperation in his life.”
Sirius breathes in deeply. He wants to scream at her that she’s wrong. That they all are. They don’t know Regulus and they don’t have a clue what he’s enduring to keep them all safe. Lily doesn’t even know it, but Regulus holds her life in his hands and everything he’s doing, even calling her a Mudblood, gets him one step closer to saving it. In a way, doesn’t that make it worth it? Sirius can’t help but think that it does.
“My brother and I grew up in a house that none of you could ever begin to imagine, let alone survive,” Sirius says, calmly. “Just because our desperation doesn’t look like second-hand robes and a lack of hygiene doesn’t mean we don’t know what it feels like that. Would you like me to call Regulus here to prove it to you? Maybe you’d like to see the matching Lacero scars on the back of our legs?”
“So you’re saying that makes it okay?” Mary scoffs. “Just because he was abused by your parents, it gives him reason to align himself with them?”
“That’s not what he’s saying,” James answers, his voice hard. “He’s trying to process what the fuck happened last night. To all of you, Regulus is just another piece of shit wannabe Death Eater. To Sirius, that’s his baby brother. Are you telling me that if someone in your family did something bad you wouldn’t look for a way to understand it?”
“No, I wouldn’t,” Mary snaps. “Not if they were a blood thirsty and bigoted extremist. I wouldn’t want a thing to do with them.”
“Easier said than done, MacDonald,” Remus counters.
“Whose side are you on, Remus?” Mary demands, outraged. “You experience exactly what Lily and I do and you’re not even a Muggle-Born. How can you defend this, someone as smart as you are?”
“I’m not defending it,” Remus denies. “I’m thinking about the fact that we have more than one person here who’s struggling with what happened.”
“As if Sirius has it even half as bad as Lily does in this situation,” Alice rolls her eyes.
“You don’t have siblings,” Sirius snaps at her. “You don’t understand.”
“Maybe not,” Alice replies. “But I do have morals. For awhile, I thought you did too.”
“Alice…” Frank murmurs beside her.
“Fuck you, Prewett,” Sirius hisses. “Sorry I’m not jumping for joy and plotting how to murder my little brother with you.”
“No one is asking you to do that, we just want you to acknowledge that Regulus is one of them without the excuses and sob-stories,” Alice tells him. “Why can’t you do that?”
Sirius steels his gaze, considering.
“If everything works out,” Regulus mutters. “People are going to think I’m awful, Sirius. You’re not going to be able to tell them otherwise.”
Sirius hesitates a moment, feeling a set of words rising in his chest. He swallows thickly. “No, I won’t be able to defend you, but I’ll know they’re wrong. And— And I’ll still love you, Regulus. I’ll love you through it.”
“He’s fucking awful, okay?” Sirius grits out, his heart splintering as he forces the words. “What he said to Lily last night is—it’s disgusting and I can’t believe I’m related to him, or any of my family. I’ve been saying that for years. Knowing that he’s my brother, that we share even the tiniest bit of similarity, makes me want to crawl out of my skin. Is that enough for you, Prewett? How about you, MacDonald? Or do you want to hear about the way I can hardly look at myself in the mirror these days, knowing I’m going to see my little brother staring back at me and all the shit he believes. Is that good enough for you two?”
Mary and Alice look at each other before muttering to themselves and nodding. From across the circle, Remus raises his eyebrows at Sirius, his lips twitching. Okay, so maybe he went a little bit overboard with that bit, but it’s in his nature to be dramatic. If he did anything else, they’d have been onto him immediately. Probably.
“Did he really curse the Muggle woman?” Peter asks, speaking for the first time since Sirius entered the room.
“Oh, right, we didn’t even touch on that,” Marlene sighs, placing her head facedown on the tops of her bent legs.
“There’s your answer as to why I care more about this time than any of the others,” Alice says to Sirius.
“Mulciber said he did,” Lily murmurs, looking down. “I don’t know what I think. I mean, I can believe that Regulus hates Muggles and Muggleborns, I guess, but actually torturing a woman? I’ve never really gotten the impression that he’s violent. I mean, he wouldn’t even duel Sirius last night.”
“That’s because he’s a coward,” Sirius grumbles. He doesn’t have to feign his annoyance with Regulus about that part of the night.
“He’s just more, I don’t know, refined than the rest of them,” Marlene says, chewing her lip. “He knows when and where to act certain ways that the others don’t seem to care about. He’s bloody smart too, Dorcas told me.”
“We all know he’s smart,” Mary replies. “That’s why I’m convinced this has all been some scheme. A master manipulator.”
“If that’s the case, then why now?” Frank questions, bewildered. “Why would he choose Slughorn’s party to reveal that? Or even this term? He had full access to the Potters, and by extension, our side of the war. If he was spying for the Death Eaters or his family, why wouldn’t he keep doing it?”
“Probably couldn’t stand it anymore, being around all the Muggleborns and blood traitors,” Alice mutters.
“See, that just doesn’t make any sense,” Frank shakes his head. “James, did anything important in terms of the war happen over winter break? Something your parents said or did that he could report back and stop spying?”
James pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, thinking. “No. No, there wasn’t anything like that. I mean my mum and dad went off and did things for the war, but Regulus was never around that. He hardly left our sides the whole time.”
Lily sighs. “Listen, I’m done with this for now. You guys can continue, or we can talk more later. I’m going to go up to my room. Mary, Marls?”
“Lils,” Remus says, grabbing her hand once she’s standing to leave. “I’ll come find you later, yeah?”
“I think that’s our cue as well,” Frank says, rising with Alice. “We’ll talk to you guys later.”
It’s just the Marauders after that. The portrait hole closes behind Frank and Alice, the click of the lock a loud contrast to the quiet of the common room. Not even the fire is crackling this morning.
“For what it’s worth, Sirius, I’m sorry about Regulus.”
Sirius looks up from his lap, meeting Peter’s sincere look of pity. He’s not sure what he’s done to deserve it, considering he’s been a dick to Peter more often than not recently, and he just smeared his little brother’s name.
“Thanks, Wormy,” Sirius smiles, sadly. He clears his throat, averting his eyes. “I’m gonna grab a jumper from the dorm. I’ll be right back.”
“I’ll come with you,” James offers.
Remus and Peter don’t bat an eye at it. It’s how they are. It used to annoy the two of them. Sirius doesn’t know if it still does.
As he’s rifling through his drawers for something appropriately large and comfortable, James sits on his bed watching him. Sirius looks at him over his shoulder, “What?” James doesn’t say anything, not at first. He just looks at Sirius, twisting his mouth and furrowing his brow in silence.
“James,” Sirius says, exasperatedly. “What?”
“I just,” James shakes his head, his mouth open like he can’t get the words out, even if he wanted to. Finally, he speaks, quietly. “How did you manage that—what you said about Regulus?”
“Oh,” Sirius breathes out. “That.”
“Yeah, that.”
“I guess I spent a long time trying to convince myself that I hated Regulus,” Sirius murmurs after a moment of silence. “Now I have to convince everyone else that I do. It’s not that different, really.”
“But didn’t it hurt? Saying that stuff? And hearing them say it too?” James asks, his voice cracking, and Sirius snaps his eyes back to him. He looks so unbelievably troubled. It makes Sirius want to cry.
“Of course it did,” Sirius whispers. He pulls one of Remus’ discarded jumpers over his head and sits next to James on the bed. Leaning his head on his shoulder, he lowers his voice even more. “But it’d hurt more to lose Regulus. So we have to keep doing it.”
James doesn’t respond. Sirius only knows he heard him from the sniffles and labored breathing he lets out. Sirius pulls James into him, letting him cry into his chest as he clutches his head. James can’t see him, so he doesn’t know it, but Sirius cries too. Slow, steady tears trail down his cheeks and onto the top of James’ head. Sirius might be loud and unrestrained when it comes to everything else in his life, but not this. Walburga made sure that Sirius would never let someone hear him cry. As he squeezes James tighter and his tears blur his vision, he wonders if Regulus still cries that way too.
Sometime later, Sirius and James go back downstairs to join Remus and Peter who are playing a game of chess. Sirius sidles up on the floor next to them, but James sits on the sofa, quietly studying the map.
“How the fuck are you so good at this,” Remus curses, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’m never going to beat you. I’ve played at least two matches with you every week since first year and I’ve never won. How is that even possible?”
“Chess Club,” Peter grins.
“Unbridled natural talent,” Sirius corrects, giving Remus a pitying look. “Accept your fate, Moony. You’ll be happier that way.”
“Shut up,” Remus grumbles. He moves one of his pieces on the board, groaning when one of Pete’s smashes his.
“Oh!’
The three of them turn to look at James, who hasn’t spoken in about thirty minutes. He looks at them over the top of the map, his eyes wide. “Err, I have to go.”
“Go where?” Peter asks, looking back to the game. “Want us to come? We’re just about finished with this match if—”
“No. No, thanks, though, Wormtail,” James stammers, scrambling up from the couch. “I’ll see you guys later. Bye.”
Sirius and Remus share a look. Peter, on the other hand, watches as James rushes out of the portrait hole. He turns back to them, shaking his head. “What’s his deal lately? Is he seeing some girl?”
“No idea,” Remus hums, moving another piece across the board. “He hasn’t told me about any girl.”
“Doubt it,” Sirius adds. “Don’t think he’d do that to Evans.”
“Fair enough,” Peter shrugs. “Sirius, do you want to play me after this round with Remus?”
“Sure, Wormy,” Sirius agrees. “Can’t wait for you to kick my ass.”
Peter grins at him, pleased.
—
Regulus sits down on the sofa in the Room of Requirement, his back facing the door. He has no idea how long it will take James to find him here, or if he will at all, but he’s prepared to wait. If it doesn’t happen today, he’s not sure when he’ll find the time to get away again.
As he sits there and waits, he fidgets with the cuff of his shirt. It’s a Sunday, so Regulus is dressed more casually than usual, which really means that he’s out of his uniform and isn’t wearing robes. It’s not proper and his mother wouldn’t like it, but he doesn’t care about that right now. The events of the past few days have given him more room to breathe, even if it’s only in small ways like this. The rest of the Slytherin boys were planning on smoking in Parkinson’s dormitory and they invited Regulus, but he declined. They didn’t object. Once they filed into the dorm Regulus set off, determined to have a conversation that he knows can’t wait much longer.
He stares into the fireplace, which is always crackling in the room. He’s not sure why it’s something that the room has deemed necessary to him and James, but he usually takes comfort in the coziness of it, especially in contrast to his own cold, dark dorm room. The longer he sits, the more the flames warm his cheeks. He leans in closer, closing his eyes and relishing in the heat, but he gets just a tad bit too close and can feel the flames and smell the fire, and he swears he can hear the Muggle woman screaming. Regulus flings himself backward, eyes open and his chest rising and falling quickly. The magic of the room takes note of this reaction, or so it seems, because the fire goes out immediately. Just like that, the flames disappear and along with it, the fireplace as a whole. Where it used to be is just a patch of butter-yellow wall.
Regulus’ Occlumency shields are down right now. They have been since he got into the room. The need to practice is ever-present, but Regulus doesn’t want to do it here, in this room, where he’s managed to embrace his vulnerability in ways he didn’t know possible. He also can’t face James like that—it wouldn’t matter anyway. The shields would come down as soon as he saw his face, or as soon as he reached out to touch Regulus. Either way, James deserves to have Regulus completely present for the conversation they’re going to have.
When the door to the room opens, Regulus freezes. Immediately, his heart rate picks and he realizes just how unprepared he is to see James. There are no words he could string together to go about this the way that he should.
—
“Are you going to look at me?”
James watches as Regulus stiffens and shifts, turning to look over his shoulder. “Hi.”
James’ stomach drops, and suddenly he feels quite unsure. Nervous, even. He takes a beat too long to respond to Regulus.
“Are you going to sit down?” Regulus asks, quietly.
“Do you want me to?”
“Of course I do,” Regulus nods, stiffly.
James shuffles forward slowly, careful in his movements in a way that reminds himself of Regulus, back when this first started. Once he sits down on the couch, a noticeable measure away from their usual proximity, he blows out a deep breath before looking at Regulus.
“I owe you an explanation,” Regulus murmurs. He tugs on the cuff of his shirt, unable to look James in the eye.
“Yeah, I’d say so,” James huffs a laugh. He runs a hand through his hair, waiting for Regulus to continue. “Is there one?”
“Yes,” Regulus frowns. “Of course there is.”
“I’d like to hear it then,” James says, his voice quiet and gentle. He watches Regulus pull at a loose thread keeping one of his buttons attached to the cuff of his shirt.
“I was at the raid,” Regulus tells him.
“I know,” James says, slowly. “What happened?”
“You know what happened.”
“I know what the Prophet said, and Flint,” James replies. He’s careful in his response because Regulus is acting different than he usually does. It makes him uneasy. “I don’t know your version of the story.”
Regulus doesn’t speak. He still hasn’t looked at James since he walked into the room. Frowning, he sighs. “I’ve known for a while I had to be at the raid. My mother wrote me about it.”
“Your mum…” James puzzles. He had no clue Regulus was in regular contact with his family. “When?”
“Weeks ago,” Regulus informs him. “It wasn’t just me. Parkinson, Flint, Avery, Mulciber, they were all there. Evan and Barty, too.” James doesn’t miss the way he flinches at Barty’s name, but he doesn’t have the nerve to ask why. “Prospects. We’re all prospects for the Dark Lord. We were to demonstrate our skill.”
“Oh, Reg,” James whispers.
“They were targeting Lupin’s family,” Regulus says, like he didn’t even hear him. “We were supposed to kill them. We didn’t though. I told them to leave. I did torture a woman though. Crucio. Right in front of her children. ”
James goes cold all over, goosebumps rising on his skin. He knew this already, of course, but having it confirmed by Regulus devoid of emotion makes his breath stutter. Knowing that Regulus knew about Remus’ parents and still seemed so unaffected leaves him reeling, stunned into silence. He can’t bring himself to confront the fact that Regulus tortured an innocent woman. He told Remus’ parents to leave? None of it makes sense. After far too long, James reaches out for Regulus, “It’s not your fault, Regulus. You had to do it and Remus’ parents are okay. You made sure they were okay. The woman—she’ll be okay too, won’t she? It’s all going to be okay. It’s not your fault.”
Regulus finally looks at him, sneering in disgust as he flinches away from James’ hand. He’s hunched over himself, glaring at James through his eyelashes. His grey eyes aren’t blank like they were at the party. They’re flashing with an anger James has never seen before. “How can you pretend that I’m the victim here? I tortured a woman in front of her children. I would’ve done it to the little boy too, if I had time.” Regulus laughs, a cruel, foreign sound. “A part of me even wanted to. I know I wanted to do it the mother. You have to mean Unforgivables, James. I meant it. I really fucking meant it.”
Regulus’ chest is heaving, rising and falling rapidly, as he waits for James to respond. He looks crazed and James feels out of his depth. “But you saved Remus’ parents. That means something too, Regulus—”
“Not because I wanted to,” Regulus cuts him off, shaking his head quickly. “I did it for Sirius. I did it for you. I didn’t do it because it was the right thing to do. I wouldn’t have done it for any other family. I wouldn’t even have done it for Lupin. It was for you and Sirius, so you wouldn’t hate me. It was because I’m selfish.”
“That’s not selfish, Regulus. You saved two people, you were forced into the rest of it—” James argues, desperate for Regulus to understand. It’s not his fault. He’s only sixteen. He never should have been in that position to begin with.
“It felt good," Regulus whispers, his eyes wide. He stares at James. “For at least a second, it felt good to hurt her.”
“That wasn’t because you wanted to do it,” James pleads. He wants to believe what he’s saying so badly, even after he’s heard Regulus’ desperate confession. Regulus has never been one to lie. “That was something else. I mean, Sirius told me that it was a mum and two kids—two brothers. You weren’t in a good place, you probably couldn’t help but see your mum in her—”
“I called Lily a Mudblood last night,” Regulus interrupts, a far-away look in his eyes. “I let Sirius cry and scream and curse me. And you want to know something, James?” Regulus lets out that laugh again. “I didn’t feel a thing. I didn’t want to stop or walk away like I did. I wanted to keep going, to make it worse. Do you want to know why I did? Why I walked away?”
“Why?” James' voice cracks.
“Because of you,” Regulus hisses.
James flinches back this time, the acid in Regulus’ voice burning him. “You say that like it's a bad thing.”
“It is,” Regulus murmurs. “It is a bad thing, don’t you understand?”
“No,” James whispers, fearfully.
“You wouldn’t,” Regulus says, sadly. He looks at James again, pity lining his face. “It’s a bad thing because I’m not going to be able to do this if every time I see you, or think of you, I fall apart.” The panic James has felt this entire conversation rises then, threatening to make him sick. “Without you, I don’t have a weakness. I have Sirius, but everyone expects that and I’ve learned how to deal with it. Push it away. You? I can’t hide from how you make me feel no matter how hard I try. That means they’ll have the chance to see it, to get in my head, and see you. They’ll kill you, James.”
“Regulus—”
“I’ve always known that my feelings for you would become a liability.” Regulus straightens up, suddenly much calmer than before. “I knew this wasn’t something I’d be able to keep, at least not safely.”
“Regulus,” James whispers, his eyes wide. “What are you saying?”
“Sometimes I wish we never met,” Regulus shakes his head, “That we never had this. Do you know how much it hurts to have this and know that it’s not the right decision?”
“Regulus,” James’ voice cracks. “Regulus, no.”
“Yes,” Regulus insists. “It’d be so much easier, so much cleaner, if I had never let this happen. I wish I didn’t.”
“Don’t say that,” James shakes his head. His hands are shaking now too. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do,” Regulus counters. He’s quiet a moment, deep in thought. “I’m just not going to do anything about it yet.”
“What?” James can’t stop his eyebrows from pulling together in confusion.
“I love you, and if I was a good person like you think I am, I’d end this right now. I'd obliviate you so you wouldn’t remember any of it,” Regulus murmurs. “But I’m not a good person. I’m selfish and care more about what I want than what’s good for you.”
“But you are good for me,” James whines. He means it. If he had to cast an Unforgivable based on how much he meant that statement, it’d be the strongest one ever seen. He knows it would be.
“Maybe in here, but not out there. Out there, this—us, me—is life-threatening to you.”
“I don't care,” James shakes his head, tears welling in his eyes.
“Maybe in another life, it isn't like this,” Regulus mutters, that far-away look in his eyes again. “Maybe in another life, it's easy for us to love each other and nothing gets in the way.”
“It is easy,” James argues, his voice hard. “Regulus, this is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
“Then maybe in another life, this isn’t dangerous. Maybe in another life, this lasts forever.”
“It can last forever.”
“I don’t think it can,” Regulus tells him, sadly. He’s looking at James with that pitiful look again. It makes him want to swallow him whole. “Maybe the feeling will last forever—it will for me, at least, but I don’t think that you and I will. You’re going to have a good life after this ends, James. I’m going to make sure of it.”
“Please don’t say that,” James whimpers, tears falling down his cheeks.
“Don’t cry,” Regulus pleads, his voice unbearably soft. For the first time, he reaches out to touch James, wiping away a tear under his glasses. “I hate it when you cry.”
James leans into the touch. “What else do you expect me to do when you say shit like that?”
“Just hold me,” Regulus whispers, desperately. “I don’t know how much longer you’ll be able to do that. Everything is happening so fast. So much faster than I expected.”
James reaches for Regulus then, without an ounce of hesitation. He pulls him toward him and they kiss. They haven’t been alone together like this in some time because of everything going on. The kiss starts soft and gentle and James’ stomach turns as he realizes what it feels like—a goodbye. He refuses to let that be what it is. He can change Regulus’ mind, he knows he can. Anger bubbles inside him as he thinks of all the things Regulus said to him. James grabs him by the waist, flipping him backward against the couch roughly. Regulus lets out a squeak of surprise and James takes the opportunity to deepen their kiss, snaking his tongue into Regulus’ mouth. He moans, opening his mouth deeper as he thrusts his body up against James’. James groans in response, grinding into him as he kisses Regulus’ jaw and neck, nipping at his pale skin before sucking it, desperate to leave marks.
“James,” Regulus breathes, his voice shaking as he fists James’ shirt in his hands. James pulls away, pulling off his shirt. Regulus works quickly to do the same things. They’re kissing again and then they’re grasping at each other like they’re afraid the other is about to disappear. Maybe they are. Regulus reaches his hand down, tugging on the waistband of James’ pyjamas.
James pauses, looking at Regulus. They’ve been in this position before, many times, but something about it feels different. Regulus stares back at him, breathing heavily, his cheeks flushed and his lips wet and swollen. His neck is littered with lovebites.
“Regulus?” James asks. The question is there, even if it’s not been spelled out. He knows Regulus can hear it too, based on the way that he’s looking at him.
“Please,” Regulus whispers, his voice low and rough and pleading. “I’m ready.” As if on cue, the couch they’re on expands, taking the shape of a daybed. James kisses him again, understanding. He works on Regulus’ belt buckle, pulling his trousers down.
He’s slow to get Regulus ready. Patient and loving. They’ve never done this before, not to this degree, so he’s especially careful. Once Regulus is relaxed and practically begging him to hurry up, James gets on top of him.
When he feels Regulus around him, his head spins and he's practically seeing stars. It’s slow at first, but he gains speed with Regulus’ encouragement, groaning as he does. Regulus holds onto him so tight that James knows there’ll be marks from his hands. He relishes in it and all the noises they make together.
It’s over not long before it started, both of them rather excited and inexperienced about it all. James lies on top of Regulus afterward, breathing deeply as their sweaty chests stick together. Eventually, he rolls over and takes his glasses off so that he can throw an arm over his eyes. “Merlin, Reg. You’re an angel.” He throws his arm back down, letting his head roll over to look at him.
Regulus is looking back at him, a helpless smile spreading across his face. His cheeks are still flushed and he’s all slack and starry-eyed, looking particularly pleased. James laughs, amazed. “Angel? You like that one, huh?”
“Maybe,” Regulus responds, quietly. He tries to press his mouth into a thin line, but James sees the corners of his mouth twitch upward, protesting against his stubbornness.
“You are one,” James murmurs, pulling him close. He presses a kiss against his temple. “You’re an angel, Regulus.”
“It would be nice, wouldn't it,” Regulus whispers, after a long beat. His voice is thick, like the words are hard to force out. “If I’m wrong? If you end up just being something good for me and not something that turns out to be some kind of twisted lesson?”
James is quiet, frozen in response to Regulus’ words. He’s been keeping a secret from Regulus too. Not on purpose, really. It’s only been a couple of days and he hasn’t seen him since he made the promise. James stiffens, unwillingly, but he schools his muscles back into a relaxed grip on Regulus quickly. Not quickly enough for Regulus to miss it though. “What is it?”
James swallows harshly. It feels like cement in his throat. He tightens his grip around Regulus before speaking quietly. “I agreed to join the Order.”
“What?” Regulus goes rigid, his voice panicked. James can feel his heart pounding through his chest and against the arm that he has snaked around him.
“Not until after we leave Hogwarts,” James says, quickly. He tightens his grip even more around Regulus, who’s struggling to get out of it. “It won’t happen yet! Don’t worry, Reg, it’s not going to happen for a long time.”
“Let go of me,” Regulus hisses, pushing James off of him with surprising force. “What have you done?”
“I want to help,” James tries to explain, scrambling up as he reaches for Regulus. “You’re helping, I want to help too. I want to fight! I want to end the war.”
“When did this happen?” Regulus demands, retreating from James. He picks up his clothes, getting dressed quickly.
“Two nights ago,” James admits, quietly. “After the raid, we all spoke to Dumbledore.”
Regulus stiffens, standing up straight. “All of you?”
“Me, Sirius, Remus, and Peter.”
Regulus breathes in deeply, his nostrils flaring. His jaw is clenched so tightly that James thinks his teeth could snap under the weight of it. “Does my suffering mean nothing to you? Everything I have to endure to protect you?”
“Then don’t! I don't want you to suffer like this for me!” James shouts.
“Too fucking bad!” Regulus yells, enraged. He throws his arms into the air like James is an idiot. “It’s not even up to me that I’m doing this, but every part of it that is, is for you! I hardly get a choice in any of this, it’s a prophecy for Merlin’s sake! All I asked of you was to be safe. That was all I ever wanted from you!”
“Maybe you don’t get to ask that of me!” James argues, standing as well. He pulls his pyjama bottoms on quickly. “Why should I have to wait on the sidelines while you’re out risking your life for me?”
“Because it’s the only way you’ll survive this!” Regulus snaps, his eyes crazed. “You need to stay out of this, James. You’re not meant to be a part of the war, not like this.”
“What did you think was going to happen?” James questions, exasperated. “That you’d lock me away in some tower until this was all over? My parents are in the Order, my friends will be too. You can’t expect me not to join them.”
“I can,” Regulus growls, jabbing a finger into James’ bare chest. “And I will. Go and tell Dumbledore you’ve changed your mind. You don’t want to fight. You’ll go be a Quidditch player or work at the Ministry. Anything but this.”
“Regulus,” James shakes his head. “I’m not going to do that.”
Regulus pulls back, staring at James. Suddenly, all emotion seems to seep out of Regulus’ eyes and face, leaving it blank. When he speaks, he sounds different. “So be it.”
“So be it?” James asks, confused. His heart pounds in his chest. He suddenly feels very scared.
“So be it,” Regulus nods tightly. He picks up his wand and places it in his pocket. “I think we’re done here.”
“Done? Regulus, wait, no,” James protests. He reaches for him, but Regulus sidesteps him, his gaze cold.
“It’s done,” Regulus tells him. “You’ve made your choice. Now I’ve made mine.”
“Regulus,” James pleads, tripping over himself as he follows him. “Don’t go. Don't do this to me, please, don't do this to me. I didn't do it to hurt you!”
“But you did anyway,” Regulus responds, his back to James. “Don’t follow me out.”
The door to the Come-and-Go Room closes behind him and James is left standing there, alone, shirtless, and in his golden snitch pyjama bottoms. His ears ring as he stares at the door. “No, no, no,” James whispers, hot tears rushing down his face. He reaches out against the door for support, sliding down it until he’s sitting. He buries his face in his hands and lets himself cry. He knew this would happen. He knew Regulus would push him away, but he didn't think it would happen so soon. He wonders if telling Sirius his fear, putting it out into the universe, made it come true.
He cries until he can’t anymore, too dehydrated and bereft to produce tears. He raises his head shakily. Not too far in front of him is the daybed, its sheets still ruffled and used. There's an indent in the pillow Regulus was using. It all seems to taunt him through his blurry vision, a bitter reminder of everything he gained and lost today.