Warm

Regulus swooped down in a smooth arc, wind flowing through his hair and heart racing in his chest.

It had been a while since he had gone for a fly. Not for practice. Not for James. Just to fly.

It was… freeing.

He sailed around a bend, fast and hard, laughter bubbling up in his chest. He released the sound into the wind, smiling even as the sharp gusts prickled at him and the grey clouds loomed overhead.

Flying was like nothing else in the world. The feeling was… indescribable. Weightless and wantless.

When he flew, Regulus felt light and high and unrestrained in a way he never did on the ground. So very far from his life but so very close to himself.

It had become his escape from the world. When it was all too much. When the pressure was threatening to split him open.

In the air, Regulus didn’t have any cares at all.

At the moment, he was escaping his parents. A letter had arrived that morning, instructing him on a number of things: to win the next Slytherin Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. To do well in his mock exams for his OWLs. To acquaint himself with the Crabbe children. To act this way. Do that thing.

To be the perfect heir.

Regulus had always wanted to be the Black heir. He wanted the power. The prestige. The resources. He was ambitious and cunning and he knew what he wanted.

Of course, he had wanted a brother more.

But life had taught him that you don’t often get what you want.

Now, the heirship was stifling, his parents micro-managing his every move even from the other side of Britain. He did his best to adhere to their wishes most of the time, but he had become distracted in recent weeks, letting his revenge plan consume his thoughts instead of his parents. The change had been welcome, but now his Mother’s letter had ripped him back to reality.

Under no circumstances are you to engage with that disgrace to our name.

That’s what the letter had said. One of the instructions.

that disgrace to our name

His Mother hadn’tcouldn’t wouldn’t even name him.

His name was Sirius. Regulus’s brother.

Or was he?

They could barely be in the same room without jumping down each other’s throats and Regulus couldn’t stand the thought of him most of the time.

It was only in the quiet hours of the night that he missed–

No. They weren’t brothers anymore. Sirius had been blasted off the family tree. He had been disowned and disinherited. He had run away.

He had left Regulus.

And Regulus was on his own now.

Flying high in the sky and forgetting all his troubles because they had no place up here.

Weightless and wantless.

*

Dorcas found him a few hours later, joining him for a bit as they flew wordless circles around each other. It wasn’t until the heavens opened and the rain came pouring down in droves that she broke the silence.

“What did she say?” She yelled over the rain, hair dripping water onto her face, even as she tried to push it away.

“The usual.” Regulus called back. He directed his broom into a lazy arc, relishing in the steady thrum of the downpour and the rumble in the clouds overhead.

“What did she say?” Dorcas repeated firmly. He didn’t look at her.

Instead, Regulus tilted his head up, eyes closed, and the rain beat down on his face, clinging to his eyelashes. The water droplets trailed down his face. ‘Almost like tears’, he thought to himself. Regulus leaned into the feeling for a few long moments before he spoke.

“Don’t talk to Sirius.”

Dorcas didn’t say anything at first and they glided through the air in blissful silence, wind and rain cutting at them sharply.

“It’s his birthday next week.” The girl said eventually.

Regulus sat back on his broom and raised his arms, stretching them wide and tilting his head back again. He welcomed the rain, opening himself up to it.

“I know.”

He flew like that for a few minutes. Salazar, no wonder James flew hands-free so often. Regulus had thought he was just showing off, but the feeling was incredible.

“Race you to the lake!” Dorcas called, shooting off without waiting for him.

Regulus laughed, grabbing onto his broom and racing after her. “Oh, you’re so on!”

*

Things sort of fell into a pattern after the party. Regulus would regularly meet up with Peter and Remus, but not just for gossip or for studying anymore. They played chess and talked and just generally enjoyed each other’s company. Peter, in particular, was around much more frequently now for Emmeline. Regulus was surprised to admit to himself that he didn’t have to fake much around them at all.

Evans, too, seemed to have decided that they were friends, seeking him out here and there. Regulus didn’t expect to get along with the girl quite so well, but he found her to be quick-witted, level-headed and generally quite amiable.

Fenwick warmed to him considerably and they seemed to strike up a tentative friendship that still largely revolved around studying and their mutual friends. Macdonald and the Prewetts had taken to greeting him casually in the halls; though they didn’t seek him out, they were friendly enough (much to Regulus’s chagrin in the case of Gideon Prewett).

Sirius, on the other hand, seemed utterly displeased with this shift in dynamics, and Regulus often spotted him glaring over at Regulus and his friends or whispering furiously with Mckinnon. The latter seemed to have taken equal offense to all this ‘consorting with snakes’ and was actively avoiding them all which suited Regulus just fine.

James was… well, gorgeous as usual, but much the same in regard to behaviour. He practiced Quidditch, hung out with his friends, pranked the student body, and kept up with his work. He was by no means avoiding Regulus, but he didn’t seek him out like some of his friends did. They saw each other as often as before and the Gryffindor would nod and smile when they passed each other in the halls but beyond that… nothing.

Regulus could have sworn that something had shifted between them that night at the party, some sort of… understanding? Acceptance? But James was acting, for the most part, like nothing had happened.

It was aggravating.

Especially because he now knew why.

The culprit, as always, was Sirius Black. Or rather, James’s loyalty to him. Regulus was now more determined than ever to shatter that loyalty into pieces and redirect all of James’s love and attention on Regulus himself.

That perfect boy would be his one way or another, of that Regulus was sure.

The opportunity to start on that came soon. Evans had demanded that they both come and help her plan the Potions session for Remus’s foray into practical study sessions, and Regulus did not plan to waste it.

Regulus made a point of fixing up his appearance before he arrived. He ensured that his curls were falling perfectly. He tucked himself into his tightest pair of trousers that he knew for a fact made his arse look fantastic, as well as a (very) dark blue silk shirt that brought out his eyes. He slipped on an assortment of rings and necklaces too because he had caught James’s eyes on his hands or neck whenever he fiddled with them. All in all, he looked casual but sinfully attractive – it wasn’t often that Regulus tried to use his looks to get what he wanted (he had plenty of other methods) but James wasn’t like his regular targets.

He knew he had achieved what he wanted when James’s eyes widened as Regulus walked in. The Gryffindor turned his head away rather quick, but Regulus caught him licking his lips subconsciously. Point to Slytherin.

“Regulus!” Evans greeted genially, from where she was setting up her equipment. They had been given permission to use Slughorn’s classroom to plan the lesson properly. “Hi!”

“Evans.” Regulus replied evenly.

She held up a finger at him in reprimand. “I’ve already told you – call me Lily.”

He smirked back at her. “You’re more of an ‘Evans’.” He said, causing her roll her eyes good-naturedly.

“Oh whatever.” She seemed to notice his outfit. “You look nice today!”

“Do I?” He drawled, mentally thanking her for the opening. “What do you think, James?”

Evans huffed a laugh in amused surprise as James spluttered. It was far from the most subtle line in the world, but Regulus was well beyond that now.

“Oh! Uhm. Er.” He cleared his throat twice. “Y-You do. Uh– look nice.”

Regulus deliberately brought a hand up to fiddle with one of his necklaces. James’s eyes followed the movement. “Why thank you.”

“Pfft, okay then.” Evans simpered as she tried not to laugh outright. “Let’s get started.”

“Yes let’s.” Regulus agreed easily as he came to lean against a desk, bracing himself on his arms behind him as his long legs stretched out in front of him. He was sure the position made him look tall and graceful, drawing attention to his lean legs and sharp features. “I’m quite eager to get down and dirty.”

James choked on his spit while Evans couldn’t help but laugh.

“Oh my god.” She said. “This’ll be fun. Uhm. Ahem. Okay. So I was thinking we go with a Dreamless Sleep potion as the main focus. It’s pretty advanced but I reckon you both already know how to brew it and it has a lot of tricky techniques that would be good for practice…”

Evans went on to explain her preliminary thoughts and Regulus listened closely. The boys quickly agreed to her idea and they went on to discuss how they were going to approach the lesson. Well, Evans and Regulus discussed while James tried not to choke at the innuendos Regulus threw out every other sentence, and Evans tried to stifle her laughter at every turn. It was quite entertaining.

Eventually, Regulus ceased with the teasing as he got more focused. They moved on to walking through the potion-making process step by step, breaking down the whys and the hows behind everything and noting down tips and tricks as they completed the steps. By this point, James seemed to collect himself enough to contribute and between the three of them, they had a wealth of knowledge and skills – so much so, that Regulus found himself picking up a few things.

“And then the textbook here says to slice the Sopophorous Bean but to be honest I always dice it.” Evans was saying, as she examined the page.

“Yeah, me too.” Regulus agreed. “I think increasing the surface area helps the wormwood oil infuse properly.”

“It does mean you have to be quicker, though.” James pointed out. He was slumped down in his seat comfortably, his head resting atop the chair’s back in an almost bored manner.

“I’ve never noticed that.” Regulus frowned. The other boy’s more practical brain was coming in quite handy against their more theoretical ones.

“Probably because you work fast enough anyway.” James shrugged. “But increasing the surface area of the bean speeds up the diffusion rate by about three minutes, I think.”

“That’ll be a bit hectic for some people.” Evans said, biting her lip in thought as she stared at the simmering potion.

Regulus nodded, thinking hard too. “The Valerian root has to be chopped in quite a timely manner then.”

“Not everyone will manage that.”

“Maybe we could add in a couple of counter-clockwise stirs.” Regulus suggested.

“That’ll mess with the wormwood infusion.” Evans shook her head. “Maybe add a dash of Flubberworm Mucus to stabilise it?”

“And risk it reacting with the Billywig Sting Slime? Not a good idea.” Regulus denied.

“Well, there’s got to be something.” Evans sighed. “Dicing is far better for the infusion than slicing so I don’t want to just revert to the textbook’s method.”

Regulus hummed in acknowledgment, wracking his brain for a solution. He stared at the cauldron as if it would give him the answer.

James, meanwhile, had his eyes closed and was not looking bothered in the slightest. “It’s not that bad, you can just prepare the Valerian root before you add the Sopophorous – chop ‘em at the same time so you’re not rushing about later.”

Regulus and Evans both blinked at him.

“Oh my god.” Evans breathed in disbelief. “I’m an idiot.”

Regulus felt the same way. “That’s such an obvious solution.”

“It was right in front of us! Oh, I’m so embarrassed.”

James chuckled, eyes still closed as he reclined in relaxation. “Don’t be. You were both just overcomplicating it, brilliant minds that you are.”

Oh, Salazar that was attractive.

Regulus wasn’t sure whether it was the nonchalant help, the intelligence, or the clear competence but he was definitely into it.

Evans sent Regulus a knowing look over the boy’s head.

“Well, Mr. Uncomplicated, why don’t you get off your lazy arse and show me how you would do it.” Evans demanded, sending a wicked grin at Regulus. “I know you have a secret way of dicing the Sopophorous without it slipping off the board. I’ve seen you do it!”

“It’s not a secret, you just didn’t ask.” James snickered, but he obliged her all the same, opening his eyes and getting up.

He grabbed the Sopophorous and demonstratively held it down on the cutting board, pinching it between his fingers. “I just kind of squeeze with my fingers instead of pushing it down – I guess that’s what it is – pressure inwards rather than downwards.”

Then he smoothly picked up the knife and cleanly diced the bean with sure, steady hands, one direction then the other. All without nicking his large, long fingers. “And then I just dice as normal.”

Oh, that shouldn’t have been as attractive as it was.

James then plucked up the Valerian root and placed it in his palm. Instead of picking up the peeler to shave off the skin, he used the same knife, carving the peel off the root in long downward strokes.

“Slughorn hates it when you do that.” Evans commented, watching him carefully. “And I always get nervous you’re going to cut yourself when you peel things in your hand like that.”

Regulus also couldn’t look away but for a very different reason.

James just shrugged in response. “This is how my Dad does it. And my Mum peels veg the same way.”

“Still.” She said with a small grimace.

James waved away her concern. “I’ve been doing this since I was a kid. Haven’t cut myself in years.”

“Can I try?” Regulus found himself saying, an idea forming in his mind.

The Gryffindor smiled easily, moving to make room for him. “Yeah sure. Here you go.”

Regulus stepped up beside him, making sure to stand closer than strictly necessary and took the root and knife in his hands. “Like this?” He held the two items in a position he knew was wrong.

“Er no, you have to…” James instinctively grasped Regulus’s hands in his own, adjusting his grip before he realised what he was doing. He let go abruptly. “Oh sorry. Ahem. Then it’s just downward strokes, away from the body kind of. Your power and control is mainly in the thumb.”

Experimentally, Regulus put the knife to the root; he dragged it down but it got caught on a small knot.

“Ah, you’ve got to…” James’s hands moved towards Regulus’s but paused and wavered halfway through the motion.

“Show me?” Regulus prompted, blinking up through his lashes at the boy, deliberately making his eyes wide.

James swallowed, hesitating, but he obliged after a second, stepping close behind Regulus. The boy’s breath tickled Regulus’s neck and warmth spread across his back. They fit together well.

“Here. Nice and slow.” James murmured in Regulus’s ear, circling his arms around his body and guiding his hands in a smooth motion.

The knife glided across the root seamlessly.

Regulus looked back at the boy with a pleased smile but regretted it a second later when James abruptly stepped away, leaving Regulus cold.

“Looks like you got it.” The Gryffindor announced in false cheer before turning to Evans. “So, uh, do you need me to repeat that?”

The girl looked between the two of them for a moment, looking exasperated on Regulus’s behalf. Eventually, she shook her head in resignation. “Yes, please.”

As James dictated his movements, he sat back down on Lily’s other side, quite obviously putting distance between himself and Regulus. Meanwhile, the Slytherin finished peeling then chopping the root, and the group continued on as if nothing had happened.

Regulus redoubled his efforts to crack James, trying all his best moves. He flirted, he joked, he fiddled with his rings and necklaces, he touched James as often as he could manage. But still, the Gryffindor didn’t give in, pulling away every time, right at the last second.

Regulus was beyond frustrated.

When they finally finished up, the three of them recapped their lesson plan and divvied up their roles. They were packing away their equipment and notes when Regulus finally cracked.

“What is wrong with you?” He burst out, exasperated after he once again touched James’s shoulder only to be brushed off.

The Gryffindor boy froze where had been putting away a few stirring rods. His startled deer look had returned. “What… do you mean?”

“Stop doing that.” Regulus demanded.

James had the audacity to play dumb. “…Doing what?”

Evans looked between the two of them in silent interest, slinking out of the way to watch.

He wacked the boy on the shoulder. “Running away.”

James tensed for a split-second, before he reassumed his relaxed demeanour. He tilted his head and gave Regulus an innocent look. “I’m not running away from anything.”

Regulus glared at him. “Yes, you fucking are.”

“Regulus…”

The Slytherin pointedly stepped into James’s space and raised a hand towards the boy’s shoulder. James instinctively moved out of his reach. Letting his hand hover in the air between them, Regulus raised an eyebrow, his point made.

“Okay, fine.” James conceded, unable to hide it anymore. “I’m just keeping a respectful distance.”

“Respectful of what? I’m not a delicate flower. I won’t wilt.”

“No, you are not.” James agreed readily. He continued to pack away his things.

“Then why?” Regulus pressed, knowing the answer but wanting to hear him admit it.

“Because I am.” The Gryffindor answered nonsensically, avoiding eye-contact.

“You are what?”

James gathered the last of his belongings and stood. “A delicate flower.”

He gave Regulus a haunted look. “I’ll wilt.”

Then he turned on his heel and practically ran out the door without another word.

“Well, I didn’t expect that answer.” Evans commented quietly.

Regulus’s mind was swirling as he tried to figure out what exactly James meant by that.

“Neither did I.”

*

A hand shot out of nowhere, grasping Regulus by the arm and yanking him into an alcove.

Instinctively, the Slytherin shoved the other person back and quickly drew his wand before he even registered who the culprit was.

“It’s Sirius’s birthday tomorrow.” Remus Lupin said seriously, ignoring the wand pointed at him altogether.

“Merlin, Lupin, I was about two seconds from cursing you.” Regulus let out a breath, tension draining from his body. He pocketed his wand as he tried to recover from the fright.

“What are you going to do?” Remus asked, glossing over Regulus’s words.

“Was it really necessary for you to grab me like that?” Regulus responded pettily. If Remus was going to ignore him, then two could play at that game. He made a show of examining his arm intently. “I rather think it might bruise.”

“Regulus, this is important. What are you doing about Sirius’s birthday?” The Gryffindor insisted intently, eyes boring into Regulus’s skull.

Irritated, Regulus huffed indignantly. “Is that really all you care about?”

Remus just continued to stare at him expectantly.

Regulus rolled his eyes. “I shan’t do anything at all.”

Remus frowned as if this confirmed something he’d been dreading. “He’s your brother.”

“I don’t have a brother.” Regulus answered through clenched teeth.

“Regulus…”

“Remus.”

The Gryffindor sighed in disappointment. “It would really mean a lot to him if you wished him a happy birthday or something. He misses you.”

“He left and never looked back. He doesn’t miss a bloody thing.” Regulus spat, fury bubbling up inside of him. “Now, if that’s all you wanted to talk about, I’ll be on my way.”

With that Regulus pushed out the alcove and started walking.

“Regulus!”

He kept walking.

*

The next morning, Regulus was tense and miserable as he tried not to think about what day it was. He had his instructions; his Mother had been clear.

He tried to ignore it when a horde of Gryffindors came marching down to the Great Hall, bantering and showering their friend with well wishes. He tried to ignore it when a birthday cake appeared at breakfast. He tried to ignore it when they loudly sang him a happy birthday over at the Gryffindor table.

He didn’t succeed.

Regulus’s friends did their best to distract him even as he tortured himself by sitting in direct view of the birthday boy and his entourage; they talked about Quidditch, and potions, and anything to keep his attention from a certain few Gryffindors.

They didn’t succeed either.

“Do you want me to punch him?” Evan asked when it became clear that Regulus wasn’t paying attention to the group’s riveting discussion about whether Pierre Lambert, the lead singer of a popular wizarding band, ‘Which Witch’, was a raging homosexual, or just French.

“No.” Regulus ground out as he watched James carefully cut a slice of cake for the birthday boy.

“That wasn’t very convincing. B get up we’re going over there.” Evan declared, moving to stand.

Regulus grabbed his arm and yanked him back down harshly. “No! Sit down you prick!”

Evan complied but his eyes were filled with concern. “What do you want to do? Say the word and I’m with you.”

Regulus stabbed at his food with more force than necessary. “What if I want to kill him?”

“I’ll get the shovel.” Evan said seriously. Regulus softened a touch at his earnestness.

“We’re not doing anything.” Regulus insisted tightly. “We already have a plan to steal his friends and ruin his life.”

His friends exchanged meaningful looks.

“Are we still going with that plan?” Evan ventured carefully, having apparently drawn the short straw.

“Yes.” Regulus said shortly.

Evan straightened up, bracing himself. “It’s just that… no one would blame you if your perspective has… shifted.”

“What?” Regulus sneered derisively, his eyes like ice. “You think I spend some time with some Gryffindors and suddenly turn into a spineless pile of goo? The plan is still on.”

“Even though you actually like them?” Evan said cautiously.

“What does that have to do with things?” Regulus questioned aggressively. “Have you all lost your nerve because you don’t want to hurt their precious feelings?”

More looks were exchanged.

Evan cleared his throat, leaning forward. “All cards on the table for a second. Em is seeing Pettigrew. You genuinely like Potter. The rest of them – Lupin, Evans, the whole lot – none of us can say we hate their company. It’s not really about hurting their feelings, they never have to know about the plan, but if we do follow through… it’s going to get messy.”

“I thought you were prepared for messy.”

“Are you?” Evan shot back. “Are you prepared to have Potter wrapped around your finger and then toss him away? Are you prepared for them all to like you, care about you and choose you, only for you to abandon them later? We both know this isn’t a forever thing. Your parents… they’d never allow being buddy-buddy with Muggleborns and Blood-traitors. You know that.”

“Yes, I fucking know that.” Regulus snapped, his hackles raised and cold seeping into his body. “Where is this all coming from? I thought you were on board.”

“We are.” Evan replied. “We’re with you 100%. It’s just… things are more complicated now. I mean you can’t ask Em to hurt Pettigrew.”

“I would never.” He denied.

Evan raised his hands placatingly. “I know you said you’re supportive, but when things get messy… we can’t guarantee it’s not going to affect things. How do you plan to shield them from the fallout?”

“Easy. Em gets to keep him.”

“Keep him?”

“My parents don’t know or need to know everything. They don’t even know for sure I’m friends with you, Em. Or Dorcas. You guys know that. It’s safer that way.”

“Yes, we know.” Evan frowned. “But I’m not following.”

“I’ll have to drop them when the time comes but none of you have to. I would never ask you to.” Regulus explained firmly.

“Reg…” Evan’s eyes filled with pity. Regulus didn’t want it.

“I know what I’m doing.” He stated emphatically, effectively shutting down the conversation as he looked away from his friends. His icy gaze caught on someone staring. Snape. “The fuck are you looking at?” He snapped in the same cold tone.

The Sixth-Year gave him a bland look. “Nothing.”

Regulus opened his mouth to have a go at him too, when just in time to save that greasy nobody, owls started swooping in from above, dropping mail and papers and the like. Regulus’s eye was involuntarily drawn to the Gryffindor table as the Potter family owl flapped over. He watched as Sirius eagerly greeted the owl, untying its wares from its leg and feeding it scraps from the table. He swiftly passed a letter to James, who barely looked at it before tucking it away in his robes without opening it, which was rather odd. Sirius opened the next one himself, grinning madly. This was quickly followed by him enlarging a wrapped present and tearing into it eagerly.

Regulus was about to force his eyes away, not wanting to know whatever the Potters got for their new son, when another, more familiar owl caught his eye.

Castor, his Mother’s owl.

The letter in its beak was a vicious crimson red, squirming in the owl’s grip. Finally, a few feet away from its target, it broke free and unfolded itself without prompting.

“SIRIUS ORION BLACK, I–”

The Howler was suddenly ripped to shreds, falling pathetically to land in pieces on the stone floor.

The hall was silent for a moment, as it always was in the wake of a student receiving a Howler. Sirius was still in his seat, a pallor having overtaken his features, as he stared at the ruined letter in shock. Remus, meanwhile, was standing, wand in hand, and fierce look on his face.

“Show’s over!” He yelled out at the hall, retaking his seat as whispers then full voices filled the room once more.

Shakily, Sirius took his boyfriend’s hand and gave him a small smile. The other boy shuffled closer.

Regulus, meanwhile, stared blankly at the shredded letter.

Under no circumstances are you to engage with that disgrace to our name.  

So Mother was allowed to talk to him but Regulus wasn’t?

Fuck that.

Before he knew what he was doing, Regulus was out of his seat and storming over to the Gryffindor table, ignoring his friends’ calls as they scrambled after him. When the Gryffindors noticed him, most of the group regarded him with wide eyes, while Sirius’s expression slotted into a defensive glare.

“If you’ve come to finish what Mother started, then I don’t–”

“Happy birthday.” Regulus interrupted aggressively.

The Gryffindor’s expression changed instantly, his eyes widening in a gut-wrenching mix of shock and hope. “Reggie–”

“Shut the fuck up.” He interrupted again, pulling out his wand and vanishing the letter’s remains, his movements near-violent. Then, he turned on his heel and stalked out of the hall without another word, ignoring the stares and the calls of his name.

Fuck. That.

*

He spent most of the day in a rage after the Howler incident. His friends tried to talk to him and calm him down but Regulus avoided them at every turn. He even resorted to hiding around the castle in places they wouldn’t find him. Eventually, they gave up, allowing him to stew in peace.

When night finally fell, Regulus was still too worked up to sleep. He slipped out of the dorm, carefully making his way through the halls and up to the Astronomy Tower only to find it already occupied.

“Oh, sorry, I can leave if you want.” James Potter said. Because of course, it was James bloody Potter.

Regulus paused, taking in the scene. The boy was sitting on the ledge of the tower, his legs dangling in the air and arms looped through the railing’s bars. He looked beautiful and reckless, framed by the night sky.

“You were here first.” He said at last, unable to look away.

Seemingly satisfied with that answer, James turned back around, staring off into the sky without another word. Regulus stood there for a few moments, waiting for the Gryffindor to start babbling like he so often did but James didn’t say anything else. Just kept gazing at the stars. It was unnerving.

When it became clear that the Gryffindor wasn’t going to say anything else, Regulus broke the silence.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, a little harsher than he had intended.

The boy didn’t turn around. “Same reason as you, I’d imagine.”

“You’re pissed off?” Regulus said sardonically, walking over and sitting beside James, mirroring his position. He loved sitting right on edge of the Astronomy Tower – it was the closest he could get to flying without using a broom. It made sense that James felt the same way.

James didn’t chuckle like he would normally, just stared off blankly. “Not the exact same reason, then.”

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating Sirius’ birthday?” Regulus asked bitterly. It didn’t seem to bother James. His moods never did.

“We already did that most of today.” He explained. There was an odd sort of distant quality to his voice that was really throwing Regulus off. “We’ll have a proper celebration on the weekend, but right now he’s with Moony.”

Regulus grimaced in disgust at that before something caught his eye. Now that he was closer, Regulus could see a small stack of parchment in the boy’s hands. Letters.

“Who are those from?” Regulus asked. He knew he was pushing, but his mind latched onto the distraction and wouldn’t let go.

James sighed deeply. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

There was a pause. Then: “Do you want to?”

Regulus huffed in irritation. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to know.”

“No.” James said, voice quiet and gentle, like he would scare the stars from the sky if he spoke any louder. “The reason you’re pissed off.”

Regulus turned away to stare into the distance too. He studied the horizon where the sun would eventually rise, hours from now.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He echoed.

Out of his periphery, he sensed James nod once, hunching down a little further to rest his chin on one of the horizontal bars. Regulus shifted to lay his head on his own arm.

They stayed there for what must have been an hour, silent and staring off into the distance, both lost in their own heads. The night air was bitterly cold, but neither boy cast a heating charm. Occasionally, James would shift to look down at the letters clasped tightly in his hands, then back up to the night sky.

Regulus’s curiosity eventually got the better of him.

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

James didn’t respond right away but after a few minutes he turned to study Regulus’s face. The Slytherin met his gaze evenly.

“You don’t believe me.” Regulus realised. “I can go first if you’d like.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he tilted his head minutely, as if to say ‘go on’ then looked away again. Regulus forged on anyway.

“My Mother sent a letter instructing me not to interact with Sirius under any circumstances.” He spat bitterly. “Then she sent him a Howler.”

James processed this for a moment. “What a hypocrite.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Regulus said, the cold seeping into his bones and clinging there.

“That’s why you…”

“Yes.”

A beat. “Sirius appreciated the birthday wishes.”

“Did he now?” Regulus gritted out, clenching his teeth.

“He misses you.” James said after a moment.

Regulus stared angrily out at the stars. “He can fuck off.”

“Regulus–”

“He left me.” The Slytherin interrupted angrily. “Not the other way around. He doesn’t get to miss me.”

James was quiet after that, processing. Regulus expected him to jump to Sirius’s defence, insisting that he should give his brother a chance, see things from his perspective, but James just nodded understandingly.

“Would you ever leave?” The Gryffindor asked eventually.

Normally, it was a question that would make Regulus’s hackles raise in an instant but James’s tone gave him pause. He wasn’t pushing or judging, not even particularly curious, he was just… asking. Just putting the thought out there. No strings attached.

There was a long silence as Regulus decided how to answer. Eventually, he went for honest.

“Maybe.”

James hummed in understanding. The sound soothed something deep inside of Regulus.

“You’d have somewhere to go.” The boy told him softly. “If that maybe became a yes.”

Regulus felt like his soul left his body. He wasn’t sure how to respond to that at all. His heart hammered in his chest, his stomach flipped and his thoughts whirled a million miles an hour. He kind of wanted to throw up or burst into tears. Knowing that he did not have the capacity to process that right now, he shoved it all down. Hard.

“Your turn!” Regulus announced abruptly, eager to move on from this topic. “Why are you so sad and mopey and… and dim?”

“Did you just call me dumb?” James asked a little incredulously.

“Dim not dumb.” Regulus corrected. “Keep up, Potter.”

“Dim means dumb.” James argued.

Regulus made an irritated noise. “In other contexts, yes.”

“So, you meant dim as in less bright?” James asked, looking a little offended but mostly entertained. Wow, he really did like ‘em mean. Regulus should insult him more often.

“Dim as in less sunny.” He said instead, before he could think it through.

A full smile stretched on the other boy’s face. A proper James smile. “You think I’m sunny?”

“Yes. Now stop stalling. I know that’s what you’re doing.” Regulus responded firmly, determined not to fall for the other boy’s tricks this time. 

James sighed deeply, face falling again. A conflict seemed to war behind his eyes and Regulus forced himself to be patient.

After what seemed like eons, James wordlessly held out the stack of letters, staring fixedly at a point in the sky. Regulus gingerly took them, careful not to let them drop and placed them down beside him, picking up the first one to skim-read.

It was an offer to join and play with the Montrose Magpies.

“James, this is–”

“Read the others.” The Gryffindor interrupted, his voice oddly blank.

Startled by James’s demeanour, Regulus did as he said, picking up the other letters to skim through as well. The next one was a similar offer from the Tutshill Tornadoes. Then another from Puddlemere United. Then two more from the Chudley Cannons and the Ballycastle Bats, whom Regulus hadn’t even known were interested in James. The rest of the stack were various letters of correspondence from each of the teams, pre-dating the official offers. The dates went back to as early as the end of the last school year.

Regulus gathered the letters back up neatly and held them out for James to take. The boy did and put them down, tucked under his bum so that they wouldn’t be knocked off the ledge by mistake.

“Congratulations.” Regulus said, voice soft and genuine. If anyone deserved this it was James.

“Thanks.” He answered numbly.

Regulus paused, frowning. The boy didn’t look particularly happy despite the offers. “What’s the issue here? Haven’t you been working your whole life for this kind of opportunity? This is your dream.” A beat. “Or has that changed?”

“No, no. It’s still my dream. I’m very grateful. Ecstatic, actually.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. He didn’t believe that last part for a second.

Even without facing him, James seemed to sense his expression. “I know I don’t seem happy about it, but I am, I swear, I’m just…”

Regulus tried to think what the problem could be. “Trying to decide which team you want to say yes to? It’s a big decision.”

James closed his eyes and rested his forehead on one of the metal bars. “Trying to decide whether to say yes at all.”

Okay, Regulus didn’t expect that in the slightest. Confusion crowded Regulus’s mind. “I’m not sure I’m following.”

“You didn’t read that part?” James said tiredly.

“I was skimming.” Regulus admitted.

Another sigh. “They all want me start right away.”

Regulus’s heart dropped to his stomach like a stone as understanding dawned on him.

“It makes sense – the season starts in March and if I want to get any proper training with the new team first, I’ll have to drop out and home-school.”

“Home-school.” Regulus repeated numbly.

“I’m grateful.” James insisted, more to himself than Regulus. He raised his head to stare at the moon. “I swear I am, I just… I’m sixteen.” The energy seemed to drain out of him. “I spent most of my childhood looking forward to Hogwarts and I thought… I thought I would have almost two more years. I thought I would have more time.”

For a moment, Regulus thought about what Hogwarts would be like without James Potter. Without him running through the halls after his latest prank. Without his raucous cheers at the sorting ceremony that made all the First-Years feel special. Without him sauntering around the castle attached to Sirius’s hip. No James stopping to help students in the halls and being late to class. The Gryffindor Quidditch Team, playing without him, losing for the first time in years. Not seeing him in the corridors, across the Great Hall, on the Quidditch Pitch. Without his laugh, and his smile and his light.

It was difficult to picture, which was ridiculous, Regulus knew – Hogwarts had stood without James Potter before and it would still stand long after he was gone. Regulus would even be there for a year after the older boy was supposed to graduate. But Regulus still struggled to comprehend going home for Christmas and coming back to a school without James Potter. The thought left him colder than the Autumn air.

“I know it’s stupid to even think of turning down an opportunity like this but I want… I want detentions for missed homework, and I want late nights cramming for a test.” James continued, staring off at the stars. “I want to make bad decisions at parties and to have all those normal teenage firsts right alongside my friends. I don’t want to look back and–” He paused. “I do want to be a Chaser… one day… but I want to be a kid first.”

They fell into a heavy silence.

“That’s why you haven’t told anyone.” Regulus said quietly.

James hummed in agreement.

“Your friends won’t understand.”

James hummed again.

“What are you going to do?” Regulus stared at the boy’s face, watching emotions flick across his features, too fast to decipher.

“Haven’t figured that out yet.”

Regulus’s heart was pounding in his chest. “How long do you have to decide?”

James drummed his fingers against the railing. “Until the end of the year.”

“That’s a month and a half.” Regulus calculated quickly.

“So far, yet so close, right?” His fingers fiddled with the railing as he smiled sadly.

It didn’t suit him.

Regulus wanted to wipe the melancholy from his face, but he wasn’t James or Pandora or Barty. He didn’t know how to cheer people up with a smile and a joke. He didn’t have a clue how to help them feel better. He had no advice to give James. Nothing at all.

Except maybe…

Experimentally, Regulus took James’s right hand with his left, his movements slow and deliberate so James would have plenty of time to stop him. He lifted the boy’s hand from the railing and rearranged it so that their hands were clasped together in Regulus’s lap.

James followed the movement with an unreadable expression.

The boy’s hand was calloused from Quidditch and cold from the night air but it fit perfectly in Regulus’s. They looked good together too, the large brown fingers contrasting starkly with his own long pale ones. Regulus squeezed the hand in his gently, aiming for reassuring and comforting.

There was a long moment when James didn’t react, but then the boy’s grip tightened ever so slightly, holding his hand right back.

They didn’t speak again until they left hours later, just gazing up at the stars as they held onto each other. A silent, steady reassurance.