Warm

“You made it!” Pettigrew yelled over the music, waving a hand with a whole bottle of firewhiskey in it as he made his way over.

It was about 11 and the party already looked to be in full swing – the Gryffindor common room was decorated in a number of red and gold streamers and balloons, a large hand-painted sign hanging over the fireplace which simply read: ‘Hell Yeah!’ Twinkling golden lights floated above everyone’s heads, bathing the room in a soft glow. And the place was packed with people adorned in red and gold, some even with face paint in the same colours.

Pettigrew took a swig from his bottle as he reached them. “Ugh, look at you! You’re all here! Prongs ‘s gonna be so happy! Speaking of which – I have been instructed to give you lot the run down.” He gave them a tipsy smile before his face contorted in realisation. “But first! Drinks! How could I forget the drinks?”

Their apparent guide ushered them over to a table that was so laden with bottles, Regulus was surprised it wasn’t sagging under the weight. As they got closer to the makeshift bar, the music seemed to quiet a bit, making it much easier to hear.

Shoving various cups in their hands and encouraging them to drink, Pettigrew began to speak.

“This is the bar, obviously, it is provided to us largely by the Prewett brothers – absolute legends that they are – so feel free to thank ‘em if you see ‘em. Right next door, we have the food table, provided by yours truly.”

He gestured with a flourish to a longer, larger table of buffet-style bites fit for a party like this.

“Don’t drink on an empty stomach… or whatever, I’m not your Mum. Oh! And you should try the sliders, they’re so good.”

The boy then turned and pointed further down the room to where a record player sat unmanned.

“That corner’s the DJ booth, as Mare-bear always calls it. Technically, Moony’s in charge of the music but Lils and Mare will likely both try to hijack it on and off all night until Prongs steps in and threatens to put his music on. You may have noticed the music is quieter here and that, my friends, is thanks to a bunch of complicated wards I couldn’t give less of a shit about, but Rem and Lils are very proud of. Basically, music in the main party zone…” he gestured widely “…and the dance floor…” he pointed towards a particularly packed section of the room where people were, in fact, dancing enthusiastically. Regulus spotted James dancing wildly with Mckinnon and the Prewett brothers. He had to tear his eyes away quickly to keep himself from staring. “…have the music on loud. At the food and drink zones it’s slightly quieter.”

“Same with the seating area over there.” He then gestured to the part of the common room where it looked like most of the furniture had been moved to. A number of people, including Evans, Fenwick and Macdonald, were sitting there as they drank and chatted. “The music is on low over there so you still get ambiance, or whatever, but you can actually hear what people are saying.”

Regulus thought that the notion of different music volumes in different areas was rather ingenious, actually, and he was rather curious about the wards’ set-up. The looks being exchanged between his friends told him they were thinking the same thing.

“Zone number: I didn’t keep track, is over by that set of windows. The smoking zone. Because Lily always insists it smells bad and has to be isolated.” The area in question was a small, sparse zone, only occupied by a few people. Lupin and Sirius each leaned against the edge of an open window with a cigarette in hand as they talked.

“And finally,” Pettigrew pointed over to the opposite set of windows, empty of students altogether. “The quiet zone. No music at all. And the rule is you have to be quiet if you go over there. It’s also been nicknamed the ‘Safe Zone’ because we use it for if someone gets ill or overwhelmed or anxious or something like that. If you go over there no-one will bother you, so it can be good for a breather.”

Pettigrew said it with such nonchalance but Regulus was secretly enamoured with the idea of a ‘Safe Zone’. It was honestly such a sweet idea, and nothing like they had at Slytherin parties.

Pettigrew turned to them at last, taking another swig from his bottle.

“Which leads me to the rules: basically, don’t be a prick. No means no. Only vomit in a bin or a bag. Respect the quiet zone. Only smoke in the designated area. You get the picture.” He waved a hand dismissively. “And if you need help for any reason at all, go bother the Seventh-Years Bianca Green or Harry Altman – they are our designated Sober Patrol for tonight, aka they’ll break up fights, deescalate arguments, help anyone who’s sick or upset and blah blah blah.”

Salazar, what another excellent idea. It was so wholesome, Regulus was surprised this wasn’t a Hufflepuff party. But at the same time, it really was smart to have older students specifically tasked with keeping the peace and keeping the party running smoothly.

“If you don’t wanna go to them, then, I don’t know, bother James. He probably won’t mind, mother hen that he is. Someone could whisper ‘help’ and he’d probably come running.”

Yeah, that definitely sounded like James. On the one hand, Regulus found the Gryffindor’s endless care quite endearing. On the other hand, it was mildly concerning.

Pettigrew shoved his bottle under his arm and held out jazz hands. “And that’s it! Welcome to the party! Go mental!”

“Cheers, Pettigrew!” Barty grinned, pouring a dangerous assortment of alcohols into one cup while Evan tried and failed to stop him.

Regulus eyed his own glass suspiciously before concluding it was probably just firewhisky mixed with a juice of some kind. Taking a cautious sip, Regulus registered the familiar burn as well as a sweet fruity taste he couldn’t place. He decided he didn’t care and knocked back some more – it looked like they had some catching up to do.

The group talked lightly among themselves for a few minutes, milling around the tables as they grabbed bites of food and downed a few drinks while Pettigrew pointed out his recommendations to them. It didn’t take long for some other students to come stumbling over, though.

“Pete! Mix up something strong for Jamie-boy here, would you? He’s far too sober at his own party!” A voice called loudly, grasping the group’s attention.

A red-cheeked Mckinnon came charging over, dragging a dishevelled-looking Potter attempting not to trip over as he was pulled along.

He looked unfairly hot.

James’ hair was sticking up in odd places, as wild as ever, his glasses slipping adorably down on his nose. His cheeks were flushed from the dance floor and his body glistened with a slight sheen of sweat. He wore a pair of bright red trousers with some muggle trainers.

And he was entirely shirtless.

Regulus swallowed involuntarily as he looked his fill – broad muscled shoulders, smooth brown skin, a toned chest and defined six-pack overtook Regulus’s vision and he was loathe to look away. Unfair.

“It’s not my party! We’re celebrating the team which means it’s more your party than mine!” James argued before he noticed Regulus and his friends. “Oh, hey!” The Gryffindor did a double take, looking at Regulus. “Um, I mean hi, hello. You’re here! You look…” He cleared his throat. “You guys having fun? Pete gave you the low-down, right?”

“Yes, Mum, I gave the new kids the tour.” Pettigrew teased, rolling his eyes as he fixed his friend a drink.

“Yeah, he did.” Emmeline confirmed. “Quite the operation you’ve got going here.”

James rubbed the back of his neck and grinned. Regulus traced the flexing of the boy’s muscles with his eyes, finally feeling the effects of his drink dawning on him. “Yeah, we’re a pretty well-oiled machine by now. You guys having fun?”

“Only just got here, really, but we are definitely on the way there.” Pandora assured him.

“Ugh. You’re gonna give me cavities.” Mckinnon complained, taking the cup from Pettigrew and shoving it in James’s face. “Here, drink up before my teeth rot.”

James took the cup but didn’t drink from it.

“And what the fuck are you talking about?” She continued, as she turned away and started to make her own drink. “You’re our Captain! Our fearless leader! You won the game for us!”

“It was a group effort.”

“A group effort? Fuck off.” Pettigrew scoffed. “You carried today, no offense Marls.”

“None taken.” She returned.

“Mate, I haven’t seen you play that intensely since our first Quidditch game back when we were what? 7? 6?”

Mckinnon snorted at that. “Godric, you were awful back then, Pete.”

“I wasn’t that bad.” He defended.

James chuckled. “You definitely were, sorry Wormy.”

“Ugh, let’s get back to peer-pressuring James into have a good time.”

Mckinnon rounded on James instantly. “You’re completely right, Petey-Pie. James, we promised to let you train as much as you wanted on the condition that you would relax after!”

“I am relaxed.” He insisted.

“You even planned this fucking party, Jamie! You couldn’t chill out and let someone else handle it.”

“I’m Team Captain – it’s my job to throw parties for the team.”

“No. It’s your job to coach and lead us, and then to party so hard you forget your own name.” She wagged a finger in his face.

James sagged in defeat. “Fine. But that doesn’t mean I have to be completely smashed.”

Pettigrew and Mckinnon exchanged a mischievous look.

“Sure, it doesn’t.” Mckinnon said, reaching out and gently pushing James’ cup up to his mouth, pressing on the bottom so he was pretty much forced to drink.

He barely managed a second before spluttering and shoving the girl’s arm away. “Godric, that’s strong! What the hell did you put in here, Pete?”

The shorter boy grinned and winked at him. “Trade secret.”

This, inevitably, interested Barty.

“Oi, I’ll have what he’s having, Pettigrew.” The Slytherin demanded.

Pettigrew snapped his fingers and grinned wider. “Coming right up.”

The blonde girl leaned her head against James’s shoulder. His bare shoulder. Regulus didn’t like it.

“Did you guys see the recruiters there watching today?” The blonde girl asked. Regulus tensed up, trying not to react – he had promised James he wouldn’t say anything so he needed to play this carefully. “I recognised Frank and Alice but there was that other guy also wearing the Puddlemere robes. He’s got to be a recruiter, right?”

Involuntarily, Regulus’s eyes flicked to James just in time to see the other boy doing the same. Their eyes met and a silent agreement passed between them. James looked away.

“Yeah, I think so. There was also Khare and the Coach for the Magpies up there.” James replied in fake musing, staring into his cup and not meeting anyone’s eyes. It was casual enough that no-one picked up on the tell.

“Salazar, I love Khare. She’s such a top-notch Chaser.” Emmeline joined in, sipping her drink.

“I literally love her.” Mckinnon agreed with a grin.

“What about the other woman? With the bun?” Dorcas asked, also apparently interested.

“Not a clue.” Mckinnon answered. James stayed wisely silent.

Pettigrew handed Barty his new drink. “You reckon they were all here for you, Jamie? They were sitting with your parents after all.”

James froze for a moment, barely noticeable, but Regulus caught it. Without thinking, Regulus scoffed loudly, drawing the group’s attention on himself.

“So, what? I can’t see any correlation between Potter’s parents and Quidditch recruiters, other than the fact that they sat beside each other a grand total of once.”

Mckinnon hummed consideringly, standing up straight. “Why did your parents come then, Jamie? I only got to speak with Effie briefly after the game and she didn’t say.”

“Yeah, Monty didn’t mention either when I went to say hi.” Pettigrew added.

James smiled into his cup. “My Dad has been dying to watch me play for a while now – you know, properly – so Mum managed to bribe Minnie with her brownies.”

Pettigrew and Mckinnon moaned in synchrony at that. Regulus was just impressed by James’s (presumed) half-truth and subtle misdirection – he hadn’t thought the Gryffindor had it in him.

“I would kill for some of your Mum’s brownies right now.” Pettigrew said wistfully.

“Your Dad is so lucky.” Mckinnon teased. “Effie she can bake and she looks like that.”

James grimaced. “I really hate when you talk about my Mum like that.”

“I could treat her so good.” The girl smirked wickedly. “I would be such a good Step-Mum, Jamie.”

The boy shoved her hard and took a long swig of his drink. “Absolutely not.”

“Circling back,” Pettigrew cut in. “I reckon the recruiters were watching you, mate. Expect an owl any day now.”

“Hey, now.” Mckinnon gasped in mock-hurt. “They could have been there for me! My Back-hand Slapper is the best in the school!”

Regulus immediately turned to watch Dorcas, knowing her reaction was going to be good.

Sure enough, his friend reared up in anger, glaring at the Gryffindor. “Not a chance. Your Slappers are nowhere near as strong as mine.”

The blonde puffed up in response, glaring right back. “You? Your Slappers are shite!”

“Oh, wow what a truly inspired comeback.” Dorcas rolled her eyes.

“My Gran could do a stronger Slapper than you!” Mckinnon spat, reddening with anger.

“I’ll be sure to tell her that later when I’m screwing her into the mattress. Maybe I can ask her for some tips to pass right along to you? You certainly need them given your weak-arse back hand and truly abysmal attempts at Spiking earlier today.” Dorcas responded smoothly, venom dripping from her tone.

Regulus raised his eyebrows; his friend was really going for it. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed James hand his drink over to Pandora, who held it to her chest.

“Oh my Spikes are bad? How come I was able to defend every single one of yours today whenever you shot at James?”

Dorcas glared furiously at her. “Oh please! Potter did more of the work than you did! You’re just lucky he’s fast enough to evade my Spikes, which are impeccable, thank you very much!”

Mckinnon positively lunged towards Dorcas, dropping her drink in the process. “Oh you little–”

Her voice suddenly became muffled as James surged forward, lightning-fast, bodily restraining the girl with an arm wrapped across her middle. He slapped a hand over the girl’s mouth effectively silencing her. She struggled against him wildly.

“Come on, Marls! Not today!” James groaned as she continued to strain against his grip. “It’s been a week since your last fight – you were doing so well!”

A muffled “Fuck you, Potter!” could be heard.

“If this is my party then I demand you stop fighting. Both of you.” He declared, wrestling to keep the blonde’s mouth covered even as she fought back. “Ew! Did you just lick me?”

Pettigrew cackled at that, drawing Regulus’s eye. Despite the scene in front of them, the boy did not look concerned in the slightest, only mildly entertained, as if it were a familiar sight. Gryffindors.

“Come on!” James cajoled. “How am I supposed to relax when you’re slagging off my esteemed guest?”

The girl glared at him and tried to kick the taller boy’s shin, but just then a small group of random Gryffindors interrupted.

“Hey Potter!” One of them yelled from a few feet away. “You good?”

“Need any help?” Another asked.

“I can take her to cool off if you want.” Altman offered.

Well, would you look at that? Pettigrew was right about Potter’s popularity around here.

James waved a hand at them good-naturedly. “Nah I’m good! Marls is going to calm down in a sec, aren’t you Marls?”

It took another few minutes but Mckinnon eventually stopped struggling. She then half-heartedly hit the boy’s arm twice. James seemed to get her meaning and released her cautiously.

“You’re such a prick.” She sighed, forlornly looking at her spilled cup.

“Here, have mine.” He turned to grab his drink from Pandora, shooting her a grateful look. “Thanks for holding this for me.”

“No problem.” She waved away as James offered his drink to Mckinnon.

“No.” Mckinnon grumbled. “That’s the drink to get you fucked up, I’ll just…” She sent a scourgify at the mess, vanished her old cup and grabbed a new one, pouring more alcohol into it.

Over her bent head, James looked over at Dorcas and mouthed ‘Sorry’. The Slytherin gave him an amused smirk but Regulus could tell she was carefully calculating behind her eyes, trying to figure out what to make of the boy who had essentially just saved her from a raging Gryffindor.

Mckinnon finished making her drink, then brought it to her lips and downed it in one go, vanishing that cup too. “Alright, Pete, Jamie, you are both coming with me to the dance floor right now or I tell your parents that it was you who broke that old vase at the Potter’s last holiday, not me.”

“Fuck you.” Pettigrew said, but he was grinning. He took another swig from his bottle and walked around the table to loop an arm through hers. “Come on Jamie, chug! Chug! Chug!”

Mckinnon quickly joined in with the chant and the two of them were loud enough to attract attention from all around them. Soon enough, what seemed like half the party was chanting at James to chug his drink. Even Barty, Evan and Emmeline joined in, menaces that they were.

The Golden Boy laughed in amusement, not seeming overly bothered by the twist of events. He rose an arm in the air as he brought the drink to his lips, tipping it back as he began to chug. The chants got quicker. James’s head titled back, exposing the long line of his throat. Regulus kind of wanted to lick it.

When he finished, James held the empty cup in the air as a cacophony of cheers filled the room.

“That’s the spirit!” Mckinnon hollered, looping her other arm through James’s.

Pettigrew pointed towards the dance floor with his firewhisky bottle. “Onward!” They stumbled off together.

*

As it turned out, Gryffindor parties weren’t all that bad.

It was raucous and wild and insane, yes, but by having the different zones, the Gryffindor party really did have something for everyone.

Regulus and his friends stayed together at first, drifting here and there but eventually they split up. Barty dragged Evan to the dance floor with him, Pandora following eagerly. Meanwhile, Dorcas peeled off for a smoke, probably to recover from her brush with Mckinnon. Emmeline and Regulus headed to the seating area, though she swiftly abandoned him to go make out with someone who caught her eye. And Regulus somehow found himself drawn into a conversation with Evans and Fenwick.

“… and that’s when the birds started singing.” Fenwick breathed to his captive audience. Despite himself, Regulus was rather invested in this story.

“What do you mean singing? Because birds do, in fact, sing.” He frowned at the Ravenclaw.

The other boy leaned in, letting a small grin spread across his face. “That’s just it – it wasn’t birdsong. The birds started singing with human voices.”

Evans’ eyes widened. “You mean to tell me there were a hundred odd birds of different species in the Ravenclaw Common Room, singing in human voices.”

The boy’s grin widened. “That’s not even the best part – they were singing Queen!”

“Queen?” The red-head gasped.

“Bohemian Rhapsody.” Fenwick nodded sagely.

Regulus had no idea who this ‘Queen’ was, but he presumed them to be a muggle singer and guessed that ‘Bohemian Rhapsody’ must be a muggle song. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

“Oh my god.” Evans giggled breathlessly. “That’s… Oh my god.”

“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Fenwick nodded along. “And I have no idea how they did it!”

“Who?” Regulus asked before he could stop himself.

Both of his companions turned to him with matching incredulous looks at the that.

“What?” He said defensively.

“It was the Marauders, obviously.” Evans said disbelievingly.

Regulus frowned. “How do you know that?”

“Who else could manage to get one hundred random birds into a school common room and charm them to sing Queen? Genuinely, who else could manage that?” Fenwick questioned.

“Plenty of people.” A familiar voice drawled as another student dropped into the seat beside Regulus. The Slytherin turned to see the smirking face of one Remus Lupin. “I certainly had nothing to do with such an event.”

“Oh fuck off, Remus. You and I both know you masterminded the whole thing!” Evans accused, jabbing a finger at him.

Lupin swirled his drink around in his cup. “You have no proof of that.”

“Come on, please.” Fenwick pleaded, a curious glint in his eye. “I’m dying to know how you did it.”

Lupin merely smirked. “Magic.”

Fenwick and Evans groaned in frustration, throwing themselves backwards on their seats in tandem. Evans flipped Lupin the bird while Fenwick shook his head in disappointment.

Regulus couldn’t help but let the corner of his mouth twitch up. “That almost sounded like an admission of guilt.”

Lupin took a sip of his drink. “Did it? Must be your imagination.”

Regulus hummed. “I must also have imagined you to have been involved with the incident in Slytherin last week.” Regulus was sure that, at least, had been the work of the Marauders.

Lupin looked like he was trying to hold back laughter. “Definitely imagined.”

“Ooh what happened, Regulus?” Evans asked. She had taken to calling him by his first name oddly quickly. And even stranger: Regulus hadn’t felt the need to correct her.

“There was a small malfunction with a number of the showers down in the dungeons. And by ‘a small malfunction’, I mean the water came out Gryffindor red. Or at least I presume it to have been Gryffindor red, it looked disturbingly like blood, if I’m being honest.”

Evans and Fenwick both look torn between being disgusted and bursting out laughing. In the end, they settled for the latter.

“I shouldn’t laugh… but oh my god.” Evans panted out.

“That’s horrifying… oh I would have paid to see some of their faces.” Fenwick added between cackles.

“Snape looked remarkably akin to a tomato after his… unfortunate shower incident.” Regulus revealed nonchalantly.

Evans burst into another peal of laughter. “Oh serves him right.”

“Yeah. Bastard deserved a tomato facial.” Fenwick joined in.

Regulus turned to Lupin with a conspiratorial smirk. “I don’t suppose I have you to thank for my lack of a… ‘tomato facial’.”

Lupin’s smirk turned a touch more wicked. “If, by chance, I did have anything to do with the Slytherin showers malfunctioning, then I would tell you that you actually have James to thank.”

Involuntarily, Regulus’s eyes shot to the dance floor and immediately found the boy in question. James was dancing in a sort of silly, over-the-top manner opposite Pettigrew, who was laughing freely at his mate’s antics. Regulus had been peripherally aware of him all evening, though they hadn’t spoken since earlier.

“Oh?”

“James was quite adamant that we leave your dorm be. He even bribed me and Pete over to his side when we voted on it.”

The sight of James making a fool of himself seemed to bolster Pettigrew, who began throwing more and more energy behind his own ridiculous dance moves. James smiled victoriously when the other boy wasn’t looking.

“I see.”

“You do, don’t you?” At Lupin’s cryptic comment, Regulus forced himself to tear his eyes away from James and back to the conversation at hand.

“I’ll have to thank him for that.” Regulus managed coolly, sipping from his own drink.

“I’ll bet you will.” Evans sing-songed, crude meaning evident in her tone.

“Oh?” Fenwick looked between his three companions and then off towards the dance floor. It seemed to take him a minute to spot James. The boy’s eyes then traced from James to Regulus several times over. “Huh. I did not see that one coming.”

“Thank you for that, Evans, Lupin. Your discretion is much appreciated.” Regulus sighed, sarcasm dripping from his tone.  “Fenwick, tell a soul and I’ll rip out your kidney and make you eat it.”

The boy blinked in a combination of shock and fear. “Er– okay?”

Evans was less phased. “This was a secret? You’re not exactly subtle, Regulus.”

Lupin looked contrite. “He’s got gay Pureblood angst. Remember Third-Year Sirius?” The other two adopted expressions of understanding.

“I’ve not… nevermind.” Regulus’s eyes found James again before he could stop himself; the prat span and then lowered Pettigrew into a dramatic dip, the both of them laughing brightly.

“I’d just rather keep these things out of public knowledge.” Regulus paused as he watched one of the Prewett brothers – he wasn’t sure which – cut in, grabbing James’s hand and twirling him this time. He was taller than James by a few inches. “There are certain people I’d prefer not to find out.”

Faintly, Regulus heard the music change from the previous upbeat tune, to a sultrier song. The Prewett boy tugged James closer and he went without protest, his grin never fading even as the older boy placed his hands on James’s hips. Prewett’s thumbs grazed James’s bare skin. Regulus wanted to cut them off.

“Regulus. Regulus?”

He suddenly became aware of his companions again, but he still couldn’t bring himself to look away from the scene that had so captured his attention.

Regulus hummed in acknowledgment.

“What are you looking– oh.” Lupin’s voice floated through the heavy haze of icy anger and burning jealousy that was quickly consuming Regulus. He never had been good at sharing and James was set to be his, even if the boy didn’t quite know it yet.

“Remus, what– Oh! No wonder you look livid, Regulus.” Evans added, evidently following his eye-line too.

The Prewett boy had spun James around so that his back was against Prewett’s chest and the two of them were lightly grinding against each other, careless grins on their faces. It only looked half-joking and Regulus was seething.

He inwardly cursed. For one, Regulus shouldn’t be letting himself get this invested – fucking James was a perk of the revenge plan and nothing more. He shouldn’t be reacting so intensely to this. And two, a completely opposite point – there was nothing Regulus could do to stop the living nightmare playing out before his eyes.

“You not going to go over there, mate?” Fenwick asked. Distantly, Regulus wondered when they had become ‘mates’.

“I can’t without outing myself.” Regulus gritted out quietly.

Over on the dance floor, James tipped his head back against Prewett’s shoulder, closing his eyes and reaching a hand up to cup the back of Prewett’s neck behind him.

Regulus couldn’t handle much more of this. He wracked his brain for a solution.

Prewett’s hand crept up from James’s hip.

“Lupin, whistle at him.” Regulus demanded suddenly.

“What?”

“I said whistle at him. Wave. Make a rude comment. I don’t care – just get James’s attention over here.”

“How will that help?” Evans tried. “It’s not like he’ll look over for more than a second.”

Prewett’s wandering hand came to rest on James’s exposed abdomen, his fingers dancing along the edge of James’s waistband.

“I only need a second.” Regulus insisted.

“Wha–” Lupin tried.

“Remus, please.” Regulus said desperately.

Lupin sighed. Then he let out a loud wolf-whistle that must have been just enough to cut through the sound wards.

Sure enough, James’s eyes snapped open and followed the sound to his friend. He grinned lazily and was about to close his eyes again when Regulus took a deliberate sip from his cup. The movement predictably caught James’s attention and Regulus was not about to waste it. The Slytherin smirked pointedly at James, letting his eyes rake over the Gryffindor’s bare chest, and trying his damn best to ignore Prewett’s hands on him.

And James… poor, sweet James, who was already flushed from dancing, blushed further; where before a light flush had dusted his cheeks, the tips of his ears now turned red and Regulus was interested to note that the blush extended down his neck to his chest.

Alcohol making him bold, Regulus winked at him.

James’s body shuddered in response.

Regulus leaned back and placed an arm on the back of the sofa he was perched on, subtly drawing attention to the empty spot beside him.

He then watched in satisfaction as James disentangled himself from Prewett with a few quick words and came ambling straight over.

“Damn.” Fenwick whispered.

“I didn’t think that would work.” Evans muttered.

“I’m sorry I doubted you.” Lupin added, sounding dumbfounded. “Also, he’s blushing.”

“I didn’t quite believe it when you said the other day, but you have a superpower.” Evans agreed absently.

James breached the seating area, his head tilting slightly as he adjusted to the volume difference. That damned lopsided smile adorned his face and he gave an endearing little wave as he walked over. “Hey! None of you want to dance?”

“Why would I?” Regulus drawled, feeling infinitely more satisfied now that he had James’s attention. “I was quite enjoying your little show.” He lied right through his teeth.

James came to a stop in front of the group. “I– er, you mean… what do you mean?”

Regulus’s eyes flicked pointedly at the open spot beside him. James hesitated for a moment but then he dutifully slid into the seat.

Regulus took the opportunity to lean closer. “You and Prewett.” He practically purred the words despite the bite of jealousy in his chest at the prick’s name.

“You mean Gid? He’s–” James cleared his throat. “He’s a good dancer.”

Regulus steadfastly ignored that. He shot James a teasing grin. “You are not.”

“Hey! I’m a great– wait! You were watching me?”

Regulus smirked and placed a gentle hand on James’s thigh. “Yes.”

James practically jumped out of his skin at the contact. He leapt up from his seat as if he had been burned. “I need a drink! … I mean– I’m going to get a drink! Does anyone want anything?”

Regulus was unsure how to feel about the boy’s reaction to Regulus touching him over his clothes. James had been perfectly fine with bloody ‘Gid’ feeling up his bare body but Merlin forbid Regulus get close.

In retaliation, Regulus smirked at the Gryffindor, projecting ease and confidence. “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please.”

“Gin and tonic. Right.” The boy repeated, clearly flustered.

Regulus smiled sweetly up at him. “Thank you, James.”

“Be right back!” The Gryffindor squeaked, practically fleeing to the drinks table without waiting for anyone else’s requests.

“Merlin’s balls.” Lupin swore, staring after the retreating figure of his friend.

“That was worse than he was with me.” Evans commented in bewilderment. Regulus smiled smugly at that, downing what little left he had of his current drink and setting the cup aside.

“I– How?” Fenwick spluttered. “You got James Potter to blush and come over without saying a bloody word. And then…” He trailed off, staring at Regulus intensely.

The Slytherin gave an elegant shrug. “What? Like it’s hard?”

“Jesus Christ.” Evans swore, her eyes flicking between James and Regulus as she processed the last few minutes.

Regulus looked over to the drinks table just in time to meet James’s eye. The boy fumbled with the bottle he was holding, almost dropping it.

“You’re going to kill him.” Fenwick commented.

“I think he might enjoy that.” Regulus smirked, enjoying the view of James Potter making him a drink while shirtless. Salazar, what a view.

Unfortunately, good things do not last forever, and a group of younger girls came stumbling over to the drinks table. James greeted them with a smile and proceeded to help them mix up their drinks too, seemingly oblivious to the looks and the giggles the girls sent his way. The stirring of possessive jealousy in Regulus’s stomach was much smaller this time as he calculated their chances of maintaining James’s attention to be rather low.

As predicted, it didn’t take long for him to extricate himself from the gaggle of girls and make his way back over with two drinks. James seemed much more collected as he offered Regulus his new drink with a flourish. “One gin and tonic for one Regulus Black.”

Never one to do the polite thing, Regulus didn’t thank him. Instead, he took the cup and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Took you long enough.”

Predictably, James wasn’t offended; he grinned and stooped into a playful bow. “My apologies, your majesty. I will endeavour to make further haste next time.”

Unwillingly, the corners of Regulus’ mouth twitched up. “See to it that you do.”

“Yes, sir!” This time when James straightened up, he didn’t hesitate to drop into the seat beside Regulus. Some sort of pleased feeling curled in his stomach. “So what are we talking about?”

“Lupin was just telling me that I have you to thank for my untouched shower.” Regulus explained smoothly, subtly shifting to sit closer to James. He was being a lot bolder than he usually was and Regulus blamed it entirely on the alcohol in his system.

“Ah!” James said in understanding. “Well, hypothetically speaking of course, if I were somehow involved with such a prank, then I would say ‘no problem’.”

“Hypothetically.” Regulus repeated with a raised brow.

“Of course.” James nodded mock seriously. “It’s all hypothetical – I, as a model student, would never involve myself with such depravities.”

Lupin snorted. Fenwick shook with barely suppressed laughter.

“‘Model student’.” Evans repeated with scoff.

“What about other depravities?” Regulus asked, unable to help himself.

Fenwick broke into full laughter at that.

James swallowed thickly. “You, are a menace.”

“I happen to think you like it.” Regulus sipped his new drink, not dropping eye contact.

James didn’t answer that. His eyes flicked to the dance floor and back again. “I’m not one for many depravities.” He answered instead.

Regulus raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I believe that. Drinking?” He looked pointedly at the drink in the Gryffindor’s hand.

“Okay, fine – that one’s a yes.” James admitted, taking a sip. “But so does everyone here.”

The other three made agreeing noises.

“Smoking?” Regulus questioned the group at large.

“Yes for me.” Lupin answered lazily.

Evans scrunched up her nose. “Absolutely not.”

“It’s a no for me too.” Fenwick added.

Regulus turned his eyes on James. The boy shrugged. “Not really my thing. I only have a spliff from time to time.”

Regulus took a mental note of that. “Drugs?”

“Yes.” Lupin smirked.

“No.” Evans frowned.

“The Puffs have good edibles.” Fenwick admitted quietly.

Evans rounded on him in shock. “You take edibles?”

“Only every once and a while.” He placated.

Regulus wasn’t particularly interested. He nudged James to answer.

“Like I said, only a spliff from time to time.”

Regulus gazed into James’s eyes deliberately. “That leaves one more vice.”

“Pranking?” James tried, licking his lips unconsciously.

“Try again.”

The boy looked desperately to Lupin for help but his friend just smirked.

“A healthy amount.” Lupin answered the unasked question. Regulus was simultaneously glad for his help and extremely disgusted. He did not want to know that about his brother.

Catching on, Evans smirked too. “Often enough.”

She then elbowed Fenwick who took a second to catch up. “What? Oh! I’m with Fab – we, er… we’re healthy. That’s a good word for it, Remus. Healthy.”

“And you James?” Regulus inquired, cautiously placing a hand on James’s thigh again. He didn’t jump up this time, but he did stare at it despairingly.

“I… erm… What about you? You haven’t answered any of them!” James cried out.

Regulus assessed him for a moment; James didn’t look uncomfortable – Regulus was sure that his friends would have put a stop to this by now if he did. And Regulus would have too; he had no intention of forcing James into anything. Instead, the boy looked a touch embarrassed, and… was that guilt in his eyes? Like he was doing something he shouldn’t be. Regulus’s tipsy mind wasn’t in the best state to examine that, but he filed it away for later.

“Yes to drinking. No and no to smoking and drugs, though I have been quite curious about muggle marijuana.” Regulus let his thumb stroke James’s thigh gently. “And then yes. Though, I have been looking for a new… partner.”

James swallowed. “Oh.”

Regulus continued to caress his thigh comfortingly. “You don’t have to tell me but I’d like to know.”

There was a pause as conflict seemed to war behind James’ eyes. Eventually, he spoke.

“No.”

Regulus tried not to feel disappointed. “That’s okay – you don’t have to tell me anything–”

“No!” James cut in before lowering his volume dramatically. “That’s my answer to the question. I don’t, I haven’t…”

Regulus blinked in surprise. He felt like his whole world view was shifting.

“You haven’t…”

“No.”

“But you’re…”

“Pathetic? Yes, I’m aware.” James mumbled dejectedly.

“What? No! I’m just processing – give me a moment.” Regulus set his drink on the floor. His mind was reeling with this new information. “You’re James Potter.” He said by way of explanation.

The boy looked confused at this. “So?”

“So?” Regulus repeated incredulously. He looked to the other three for help but they just looked unsurprised and largely amused. Regulus turned back to James, unable to believe he was going to say this. “So, people fall at your feet – you could have anyone you wanted.”

“That’s not true.” The Gryffindor denied.

“It absolutely is.” Regulus insisted, blaming his loose tongue on the alcohol. “Anyone, James.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want just anyone.” James said, making Regulus’s heart beat a little faster. “Maybe I’m waiting.”

“For?”

James shifted in his seat. “You know… the one.”

And wasn’t that just sickeningly, disgustingly sweet. Leave it to James Potter to be a hopeless romantic, waiting for his one true love. Regulus simply couldn’t help but melt. He might not be James’s ‘one’ but in this moment, tipsy as he was, Regulus wanted to be. At the very least, he silently vowed to himself that he would make James’s first time special if he got the chance.

“That’s…” Regulus searched for the right word.

“Naïve, I know.” James filled in, tracing his finger around the rim of his cup as he stared down at it. Regulus absently noticed that his nails were still decorated with chipped yellow polish.

“It’s sweet, James.” Regulus corrected. It wasn’t quite the right word but it would have to do. “I think it’s sweet.”

The boy looked up suspiciously. “Really?”

“A little bit sickening but still sweet.” Regulus assured him teasingly. “And besides, you’re only sixteen – you’ve plenty of time.”

“I know.” James said, his smile slowly returning to his face. “You really already…?”

“Probably too early.” Regulus admitted. “But I don’t regret it.”

It was true; Regulus didn’t regret his fling with Barty despite the fact that they had been far too young and not suited to each other at all. He had learnt a lot about himself and after some initial awkwardness around the breakup, it thankfully hadn’t affected his friendship with his best mate.

James nodded in understanding, a faraway look in his eye as he processed this. Regulus picked up his drink again and took a swig.

“Ahem.” Evans cleared her throat pointedly, a shit-eating grin on her face.

James startled out of his thoughts. “Sorry! Can we talk about… anything else?”

Lupin finally took pity on his friend. “It occurred to me the other day that our Saturday study group only focuses on the theoretical and written side of things, so I’ve been thinking of holding a few practical sessions. What do you lot think?”

There was a flurry of enthusiastic encouragements and agreements to that as the group rapidly burst into planning mode.

It was quickly decided that the Seventh-Years, Bianca Green and Miranda Fawley should lead the Herbology session, while Fenwick would lead the Charms one with Green. Lupin was taking on the Defence lesson and so on so forth. Lupin agreed to ask the relevant students, while Evans offered to join him in asking the Professors to borrow their classrooms.

“Lils should do the Potions session.” James added with a smile.

“Only if you’ll be my fabulous assistant, Potter!” She said decisively, leaving no room for argument.

“What? No! I’m not even part of your study group!” He pointed out, arguing anyway.

“Aren’t you third best in your year, though?” Regulus countered with a smirk, just to rile him up.

“Aren’t you the actualbest in your year?” James shot back. “And you’re in the group. You should do it.”

“You are really good with the practical side, Prongs.” Lupin joined in, a hint of pleading in his eyes.

“And Regulus isn’t?”

“I know!” Evans announced with a sly grin. “I’ll lead and you’ll both be my fabulous assistants!”

Regulus smirked. He had been initially worried that she would be an obstacle to getting Potter, but she was turning out be a valuable ally. “Works for me.”

“Is that really necessary?” The boy pouted. Childish but also rather endearing.

“Yes.”

“But I have Quidditch.” James whined.

“If Regulus can spare the time, then so can you.” She stated firmly.

“Ugh.”

“James.”

“Fine! Fine! I’ll help.” He acquiesced.

“And you can lead the Transfiguration session too.” Lupin piled on with a smirk.

“Moony!”

“You’re one of the best in the whole school, Prongs.” Regulus raised his eyebrows – he hadn’t known that. “And my options are you, Sirius or Pete.” Lupin explained firmly.

“Don’t you tutor younger students in Transfig for McGonagall, anyway? What’s one more session?” Fenwick asked. And Regulus definitely hadn’t known that.

He turned to James interestedly. “You tutor kids?”

The Gryffindor waved a hand dismissively. “Only because Minnie asked me to. It’s a personal favour.”

“Well, now I’m calling in a personal favour.” Lupin said. “You owe me about four million at any given time and I’m cashing two in – you’ll help with the Potions session and lead the Transfig one.”

James groaned and flopped backwards dramatically. It suddenly occurred to Regulus that his hand was still on James’s thigh and after a moment, he rubbed his thumb back and forth soothingly. James stiffened before he relaxed again, sitting up with a sigh.

“Fine, but you have to help me with the lesson plan.”

“Done.” Lupin smirked in satisfaction.

“Prongs! Prongs!” An unwelcome voice called out.

Suddenly, James grabbed Regulus’s hand and threw it off him, lightning fast. But before Regulus could even react, Sirius came stumbling over, clearly already sloshed.

“It’s time!!!” He warbled excitedly, pumping a fist in the air.