the view between villages

regulus

regulus hates company. he hates hosting people in his home, hates catering to guests, detests providing food and beverages. one thing he hates more than company is unannounced company. sirius is the exception, because he helps himself to whatever he wants with zero expectations of regulus. it’s both a blessing and a curse, because he hadn’t told reg about the lack of tea and now he’s staring at an empty container with two guests in his living room. 

it’s dorcas meadowes and pandora rosier, and whilst he knows they aren’t bothered with simple things like tea, his mother raised a better host and they deserve it. they helped him not long ago, when he was in the midst of his own personal hell, and he has yet to find a way to repay them. the least he can do is offer tea, and not even that is possible. it’s frustrating, to say the least. frustrating enough for him to plot revenge. his floo network will be disconnected come nightfall, and his wards will be stretched further into the hills. 

“apologies. it appears sirius has demolished my tea supply,” regulus deadpans as he enters the living room. he’s pleased to find pandora settled on the sofa, hands clasped in her lap and head in the clouds. he’s less pleased to find dorcas snooping through the numerous bookshelves lining the walls. leave it to dorcas to be nosey. 

“no worries,” pandora chirps, a bright smile curling her plump lips. pandora is beautiful, and if it weren’t for her fiancé and her long history with regulus, he’s sure he could see himself with her. her hair, alabaster white, curls against tanned skin and hazel eyes. dorcas is just as pretty, all dark skin and long legs with braids to her hips. fortunately, or possibly unfortunately, because dorcas meadowes is an absolute delight despite her snooping tendencies, she is simply not attracted to men and proud to announce it at any given moment. 

“honestly, i’m sort of relieved. marlene’s mum is an avid tea drinker. i’m growing kind of tired of the stuff,” dorcas muses as regulus slips into an arm chair perpendicular to the sofa. it doesn’t match the sofa by any means, the wood dark and the cushions black whereas the sofa is a light wood with blue upholstery. even so, regulus is quite fond of it. it’s comfortable, and it matches the inky darkness of the inner lining of his heart. a throne truly fit for a brooding king with horrid sitting positions. 

“i’ve got water,” regulus offers, gesturing toward the kitchen. while his mother raised a good host, his brother raised a lazy gremlin with no manners. he’ll be damned if he leaves his chair again for any reason. “that’s about it, though. help yourselves to the kitchen.” 

“have you tried muggle sodas?” pandora asks. it’s such a strange change of conversation, seeing as regulus has no idea what the hell a soda is, but it’s pandora and he’ll gladly converse with pandora about anything and everything. 

“muggle sodas are so good,” dorcas groans as she sinks into the couch. regulus is confused. what is a soda? is it a food? perhaps an electronic sirius is always on about? 

“i’m afraid i haven’t the slightest clue what you’re talking about,” regulus drones, propping his legs up in the chair with him. his knees press into his chest, his spine protesting with the utter discomfort in the way he’s shaped, and his chin rests against the bend in his legs. 

“oh dear merlin,” dorcas gasps, like it’s the most offending thing in the world that he has no clue what a bloody soda is. he’s only just broken free of his parents, from the pureblood shelter he was raised in, and yet he’s expected to know everything about the muggle world.

“a soda is a beverage. usually, it comes in a bottle or an aluminum can. it’s fizzy, kind of spicy, in a way. it’s got bubbles in it,” pandora graciously explains. again, if it weren’t for years of friendship and xenophilius lovegood, regulus would already have a ring on her finger. 

“that sounds disgusting,” he says, nose crinkled. it really does sound utterly preposterous. muggles truly do have the strangest taste in things. spicy bubble water? who would enjoy that? 

“it’s actually really good. usually it’s flavored, so it doesn’t taste like merlin’s literal ballsack. y’know, the way cranberry tea does,” dorcas further elaborates, her nose wrinkled. alright, regulus has had enough blasphemy for one day. first, sweet and spicy water, and now slandering cranberry tea? dorcas has to leave. 

“you speak so lowly of cranberry tea for someone who likes sweet and spicy bubble water,” regulus snaps back. dorcas’ brown eyes narrow at him, her lips twisted into a frown. he has to hand it to her. she’s quite brave for maintaining eye contact through the death glare he’s leveling at her, though he does admit it’s gone a bit soft since the end of the war. 

“at least i know how to season my food,” she quips back. pandora is a giggling mess between them, hand pressed to her lips in an effort to contain the bubbly laughter resonating in her chest. it’s taking everything in regulus not to crack, and if the twitching of dorcas’ lips is anything to go by, dorcas is struggling just as much. 

“at least i can cast a decent protection charm.” dorcas’ mouth twists, and regulus can feel his resolve cracking. 

“at least my patronus isn’t a bloody stag.” 

“at least i can cast a patronus.” 

“at least i can get a date.” regulus cracks. there’s a faint smile on his lips, and a broad one on dorcas’, and pandora hasn’t stopped laughing since the banter began. 

“you’ve got me there,” he concedes. this is the only defeat he’ll ever accept, but he’ll never admit it. he’ll die before he confirms his blatant soft spot for dorcas meadowes, and by extension, pandora rosier. they’re simply too good, too noble, for him to not cave. he would do anything for these two girls sat in his living room, even with the childish bickering and the cranberry tea slander. 

“i’m sorry for bringing up your unfortunate virginity,” dorcas says, though she doesn’t seem sorry. regulus gives a roll of his eyes and a wave of his hand. 

“i’m not sorry for bringing up your lack of magical ability.” pandora is laughing again, shrill giggles bouncing off the dreary walls of his empty house. normally, loud laughter like hers would irritate him, but as is echoes through the lonely halls, he can’t be more thankful for the interruption to his droning routine. 

it takes a while for the banter to die down and for the solemnity to roll in. they have questions, and he has answers. yes, he killed the dark lord. yes, he took the mark. yes, he reconnected with sirius, though it took a year before the first visit occurred. no, he doesn’t regret anything he did. yes, he murdered people. his murder confession seems to shake them more than the information revolving around his almost-death. “you’re practically immortal, reg. i’m not surprised you survived,” pandora had said, as though he hadn’t just dropped earth shattering news into their laps. 

“what ever happened with barty and evan?” dorcas asks. regulus had prepared himself for this question long ago, had carefully scripted his response, and he still finds himself quaking in the face of it. barty crouch jr. and evan rosier, his former dorm mates, the it couple of slytherin, are the only souls he couldn’t save. he can see the guarded curiosity on pandora’s face at the mention of her twin and his heart sinks. he doesn’t know if he can do this. his fingers tangle themselves in the sleeves of his jumper to hide the quaking of his palms. 

“the dark lord found them out. as it turns out, the psychopathic blood purist was also homophobic,” regulus responds. his voice is soft, quiet, carrying the burdens of his failures. he’s spent the past year and a half blocking the bodies of his former friends from his mind, though his efforts are proven fruitless once night falls and his eyes close. 

“oh my god.” it’s dorcas who speaks, sounding like she’s been punched in the ribs. regulus can’t blame her. it’s tragic, the fate their friends met. even more tragic is the absolute devastation written on pandora’s quivering lips and teary eyes. 

“i’m sorry, dora. i couldn’t save him. evan was dead hours before i found out.” he knows simple apologies won’t make up for it. he knows two words can never undo the fatal mistake he’d made years ago. even so, he wishes he could go back. he wishes he could turn back time, apparate to lestrange manor a few hours sooner, find the last horcrux a month earlier. perhaps then they’d have two more bodies occupying the too-large living room in his too-large house. 

“i know,” pandora whispers. it’s crushing. it’s truly crushing, hearing the confirmation of his worst nightmares. “i saw it happen. i just… i hoped i was wrong.” 

“i’m so sorry, dora,” dorcas says, voice shaking with unshed tears. silence blankets the room, suffocates the bodies inside, fills regulus’ lungs with lead.

he scripted this response a year ago, and yet, as he finally speaks it aloud, he finds it weighs more than he could’ve anticipated. he’s choking on the confession, strangled by the truth of his shortcomings, chained to another fragment of his irreversible past. he wishes he could change it, rewrite the destiny etched into his bones, but he can’t, and that’s the heftiest truth he’s ever had to swallow. 

james

sirius is a menace, a gremlin, a bother. sirius is the source of all of james’ migraines. sirius is the ache in his back and the threat of grey hair and early onset balding. but god, does he make a good risotto. it melts against james’ tongue, draws out a sound only a good shag and fantastic cooking can. 

“lily, i’m leaving you for padfoot,” he moans into his fork. dramatic, he knows, but sirius is his role model. so, really, is he to blame for the absolute blasphemy of his existence? no, no he’s not. 

“bold of you assume i’d shag anyone who isn’t moony,” sirius quips back. lily sighs, her nose pinched between her thumb and forefinger. if james didn’t know any better, he’d assume she’s irritated, but he’s aware of her endless love for him. at least he hopes it’s endless. she’s put up with a lot. he wouldn’t be surprised if she has her bags packed already. 

“i would never shag you, pads. it’s nothing against you, of course, but you’re not my type,” james says. the firewhiskey he’d consumed a half hour ago is still heavy on his tongue, knocking down any filtering he’s capable of possessing. not that he has a filter in the first place. james prides himself in being the most honest person in existence, sometimes to a fault. like now, for example. “i think i’d fancy your brother sooner than i’d ever think about laying a finger on you.” merlin, kill him now. is it possible to resurrect voldemort? he thinks he’d like a round two right about now. 

“you’re insufferable,” lily mutters as she clears the table. there’s a tension in her eyebrows, and a scowl on sirius’ face, and oh, is he fucked. he’s totally, royally fucked. his marriage is over. his best friend is plotting his murder. he wonders how harry will fare without a father. he’s sure padfoot will teach him how to shave and flirt. james isn’t needed. 

“not insufferable, lils. just drunk,” he blabbers. does he ever shut his mouth? when will the heavens open to smite him? 

“drunk enough to fantasize about my baby brother with your wife in the room?” sirius snaps. this is the angriest james has ever seen him. death eaters might be a less painful death than whatever murder sirius is plotting. he’ll take the dark arts over sirius’ wrath any day. “good going, prongs. you’ve signed your own death certificate.” 

“is it too late to tell you i love you?” james’ voice comes out embarrassingly squeaky, accentuated by the blush pocketing in his cheeks. harry is giggling in his high chair, smacking his hands against the plastic. a true traitor. even his own son is happy to see him go. 

“i’d ask you to say hello to mum and dad for me, but you won’t see them where you’re going.” sirius’ voice is cold, detached, mirroring the early days of his disownment. he sounds almost like regulus, which james knows isn’t a good thing. regulus wouldn’t hesitate to put him on his arse if he knew he was the center of dinner conversation. regulus wouldn’t hesitate to kill him, actually. perhaps he should ask regulus to put him out of his misery before sirius can get his hands on him. 

“let’s just talk this out, okay? let’s be calm, civil adults about this,” james slurs, hands held in the air with his palms out. it’s a white flag waving in the middle of a battlefield, a desperate attempt at surrender. sirius raises an eyebrow, and lily stands beside him with her arms crossed. oh, he’s fucked. 

“start talking, bitch,” lily drawls. james can’t help but flinch. she looks pissed, and rightfully so. james did just accidentally confess his superficial attraction toward his best friend’s brother, and in front of his wife no less. he accepts the early grave he’s standing in front of with open arms. 

“i don’t fancy regulus. i just think he’s kind of hot.” merlin, james, shut your mouth. “in a schoolboy crush sort of way. kind of. i just think he’s pretty. not prettier than you, of course, lily. not even close. but he’s pretty. i’ve got eyes, y’know? i can appreciate beauty when i see it, and regulus really is beautiful, but it’s not like i want to kiss him or anything. he’s just handsome. that’s all.” god, he’s so bad at this. the alcohol in his system is definitely not helping him plead his case to the jury. this is a death row case for sure. 

“don’t worry, james, i get it,” lily says, a smile on her face. sirius shoots her a nasty look, and james gulps down his relieved sigh, and then lily’s wand is poking into his windpipe. “i get that you’re a complete and utter dunce! your best friend’s brother? really?” 

“you seem more pissed that it’s sirius’ brother than you do about it happening in the first place,” james squeaks. lily’s face blooms with pink, and her wand falters, and sirius guffaws. 

“not you too, red!” he shouts, entirely undignified. his head collides with the table, then again, and again, and james is honestly concerned about brain damage. sirius can’t afford brain damage, he thinks. there’s already an entire bucket of screws missing in that little head of his. he can’t afford to lose any more. 

“he fills out his trousers nicely, okay? i’m not ashamed to admit that i know a good arse when i see one,” she admits, though weakly. james wants to cry. lily thinks regulus is attractive too. thank merlin he isn’t the only one with functioning eyes. 

“so you like his arse and not mine? we have the same one!” sirius whines, slamming his head against the dining table again. harry is a giggling mess, and it’s a bit concerning. james is truly raising a monster, isn’t he? harry is going to laugh at his grave when the time comes, isn’t he? 

“who has the same what?” asks remus as he enters the room. if james thought lily couldn’t get any redder, he’d be dead wrong. her face is beet red, eyes blown wide as she looks to the newcomer. 

“moony, thank god!” sirius cheers. he’s already reaching an arm across the table for remus to take, and as endearing as it is for james to witness, he can’t help but want to die. the mortification is starting to settle in atop the intoxicated mess he’s created. “red thinks reggie has a better arse than me.” lily looks like she’s two seconds away from turning her wand on herself and honestly, james can’t blame her. can he use the killing curse on himself? is that a thing he can do? 

“oh. i was not expecting that,” remus states, eyes big as they jump back and forth between james and his wife. remus rounds the table, gently pinches harry’s smiling cheek, and slides into the chair beside sirius. james isn’t really paying attention at this point. he’s still mapping out the logistics of using the killing curse on himself. seriously, can he? 

“i only said it because james fancies him,” lily announces. sirius makes a sound like a mixture of a howl and a wail, and remus sounds like he’s been hit with a bludger, and james sincerely hopes one appears out of thin air to knock him directly in the center of his forehead. 

“i do not fancy him, lils,” james finds himself whining. “i just said he was pretty! those are two very different things!” 

“can we please stop talking about my baby brother? i do not need to know about your fantasies!” sirius cries. remus has a hand on his shoulder. moony truly is a saving grace in all of this, james thinks. he’s sure that the hand on sirius’ shoulder is the only reason he hasn’t been pummeled into the floor. 

“fantasies about who?” marlene asks. she’s got dorcas hanging off her arm, and pandora is filing in behind her. james is digging his own grave. james is seriously digging a grave for himself and he’s about to hop right in it and never emerge again. why does everyone have to be in his house? why is everyone here? isn’t there another place for everyone to go? just because he invited them over to party doesn’t mean they need to accept. 

“regulus,” remus replies simply. remus must have some unspoken hatred towards james, because regulus black is now filing into the kitchen with a raised eyebrow. 

“what about me?” he asks. his voice is heaven to james’ ears. not as heavenly as lily’s, but still delightful to hear. if he has to die tonight, he’s thankful it’s at least regulus who’s going to kill him. regulus seems merciful. 

“james wants to shag you,” lily spits out. she’s red, impossibly red from the roots of her hair to the middle of her chest, and if james wasn’t so in love with her, he’d love to wring her neck right then and there. scratch that, he thinks he might. regulus looks unpleasantly surprised in the absolute worst ways. 

“lily thinks your arse is fat,” james announces. if he’s dying tonight, so is she. she made her vows, in life and death, and he’s not letting her back out now. the dining room is booming with laughter, hysterical laughter of the mocking variety, the kind that genuinely grates james’ nerves when he’s the subject of it. 

“i don’t want to know. i don’t care to know. i’m taking harry and leaving, and i am never coming back,” regulus finally drones. his cheeks are pink, which james finds completely and utterly adorable, as he carefully extracts harry from his high chair. 

“i think that’s best for us all, honestly,” marlene cackles. she’s bent in half at the waist, clearly struggling to breathe, and james finds it within himself to wish she weren’t. 

“we’ll see you both tomorrow,” lily calls weakly after the retreating form of regulus black. she lets her head fall against the table, and james is seconds from following. that is, until dorcas begins distributing shot glasses of firewhiskey. james is all too happy to indulge. 

he indulges a bit too much, he will admit, because the next few hours are a blur. he has no idea how he’s made it to bed, or how the party went, but at least lily is still sleeping in the same bed as him. crickets chirp outside the window and moonlight filters in through the curtains, caressing her face and hair. james loves lily. it’s been written into the fabrics of time for longer than they’ve been alive. james loves lily like he loves living, and that’s a lot. an impossible amount. wholly and immeasurably. 

“it’s just a silly crush, right?” he whispers. he can see her eyes, the bright green twinkling against the backdrop of their dark bedroom. she wears a soft smile as she nods, chilled fingers gracing over the side of his face. he presses the softest kiss he can muster against her palm. james loves lily, more than he’s ever loved anything. it’s an unwavering truth. 

“it’ll go away with time. it’s alright to think he’s pretty,” she whispers back. it strikes james as silly, to whisper to his wife in the sanctity of their bedroom, but it’s so innocently endearing that he can’t help but smile. james potter has always been in love with lily potter, and not a single person can ever outweigh it. 

“we’ll be over it by next week, surely,” he muses. james potter’s world revolves around lily potter. she is the sun and he orbits around her, drawn to her in any setting. lily is his entire universe. lily is the sun, and he is the earth, and regulus is a twinkling star in the distance. always there, always visible, but never entering their little solar system, and that is the way it should be.