Chapter 24
The days felt slow, dark, and thick. Like molasses gone off. Aurora thought of Regulus often, and worried always. When she woke up, it was from nightmares of Regulus being tortured, his screams echoing in her mind as she jolts out of bed, shaking and drenched in sweat.
At breakfast, she wonders if Regulus has eaten, she worries that Walburga will starve him again, as she did when he was a child. She struggles to swallow her food when it turns to ash in her mouth as she realizes starving is the least of his worries. The Black family throws unforgivable curses around as easily as simple charms. He was probably bloody and bruised by now, at the very least. Likely broken bones. He was bound to have been punished harshly for her escape, doubly so for Sirius’s.
Maybe he was Imperiused, forced to do Orion and Walburgas bidding, his mind slowly corroding under the rotten weight of their magic. Maybe it wouldn’t even matter if he was rescued, would they find only a shell of a man where Regulus once was? His beautiful mind turned to pea soup, his radiant eyes dull.
She doesn’t realize she is shaking until she feels a hand grasp her wrist. She releases the fork from its stranglehold as she meets Sirius’s searching eyes.
“Breathe.” Sirius commands, and Aurora realizes she is taking shallow, hiccuping breaths. She closes her eyes and struggles to take deep, measured breaths. When she opens them again, she is met with James’s eyes, shiny with unshed tears. Effie is rubbing has back in comforting strokes, looking back and forth between her three charges, before her attention is turned toward the sound of flapping wings.
Aurora tries very hard to ignore the pang in her heart as the owls arrive with the mail.
It had taken her less than a year to pick up on the pattern. At first, she had just assumed Regulus was simply very keen on mail, because he never, ever, missed mail day. As the years passed, and courses got more challenging, Regulus spent less and less time at meals; sometimes skipping them altogether to study or read or train for quidditch. Regulus was extremely gifted in most subjects, especially astronomy, given his families obsession and their namesakes. He could easily have coasted on natural skill alone. But Regulus wasn’t one to coast, he was the opposite of Sirius in that way. He wanted to be a prefect, he wanted to make his family proud, he wanted to be the best. So he spent his time writing and reading and training, often missing meals to do so. And in return he was one of the brightest wizards in the whole school, making top marks in all of his classes. This came with no little sacrifice.
It would get especially bad towards exam season, there were days Regulus only made it to one meal a day. Between Rory, Panda, and James, they all made sure that Regulus ate when he didn’t join them for meals, bringing him sandwiches or dragging him down to the kitchens.
Before long, Aurora realized that despite his apparent disregard for regular meals he never, ever, missed mail day. It didn’t matter how much work he had on his plate, or if there was an important game coming up, he always made it to meals on mail day. Even when he wasn’t due a package or any letters from home, he showed up for the mail.
She asked him about it one cozy night in the common room, as they were snuggled up on a loveseat, reading the evening away as was their custom. She had been mulling it over, and she had finally decided she had had enough of the small mystery.
“Why do you care about mail day so much? Even when none of us get any mail you always seem so keen.”
Rory was surprised at the slight blush that crept into his cheeks, the slightly bashful smile.
“I like to watch you.” He admits with a shrug of his shoulders, faking casual. Rory giggles in surprise, seeing through it.
“What?”
“You’re just. It’s just-“ it was so rare for Regulus to stumble on his words, he was always so sure of himself and his sharp mind and sharper tongue.
“When the owls swoop down, and the hall fills with the sound of wings, I feel like I see you the clearest, the way you really are. Your hair blows back and your eyes light up when you watch them and you smile…” he shakes his head fondly.
Rory’s mind went fuzzy as her cheeks heated ridiculously.
“They’re just so lovely.” Aurora replies softly.
“You’re just like them.” Regulus strokes her cheek, knuckles soft and cold against her flushed skin. “You’re an Angel.”
Aurora feels like she’s been caught in the stomach with a bludger. A bludger filled with love and adoration. A nuclear bomb of affection. Her heart hammers in her throat like a wild bird.
“You can’t say things like that.” She whispers harshly, confusion flashing across Regulus’s features before she grabs him with both hands on either side of his head, crashing their lips together like waves crashing upon the shore.
Aurora blinks back the memory. Effie shuffles through the mail, pausing on a particular envelope, before looking at her meaningfully. “It’s for you, dear.”
Effie hands her the letter, meeting Rory’s confused expression with carefully calm mask that makes her immediately nervous. She almost rips the thing open with her teeth when she recognizes the penmanship.
Regulus had sent her a letter.
“Is that from Reg?” Sirius asks, his hair pooling on the table as he leans across it to look closer. She tears the envelope, yanking the letter out. Sirius snatches the envelope from her hand, not unkindly. Ignoring everything else, her eyes roam the page feverishly.
Dearest Aurora,
My darling darling Rory, my lamb, my dove, my angel.
My wife. As we never got to say our proper vows, I wanted to write you a little of what my heart holds for you.
I am not particularly good at talking about my feelings, but I have always I found it easier in French. I promise to translate it for you when I next get to see your lovely face.
Aurora does a double take, frowning. “I can’t read the rest. It’s in French. Can you translate?” She hands the letter to Sirius, who leans in to let James read over his shoulder.
“I can try.” He read the letter out loud to himself under his breath.
My Rory.
J'ai l'impression de te connaître bien avant de te connaître. Comme si je te connaissais avant notre naissance, dans cette vie, quand nous n'étions que poussière d'étoile.
“J'imagine que tu as dérivé devant moi, une boule de lumière brillante, et j'ai entendu ton rire ou vu à quel point tu brillais et j'ai dû décider de te suivre n'importe où.
Je t'ai connu dans chaque vie et je te retrouverai dans chacune d'entre elles. Insecte, ou élément, mortel ou magique. Dans chaque univers, je te trouve. Dans toutes les réalités, je t'adore. Si vous avez des doigts, j’épluche vos oranges pour les garder propres et j’embrasse chaque doigt pour faire bonne mesure. Si tu étais un papillon de nuit, j'ornerais la plus belle flamme d'un étui en verre coloré pour que tu puisses l'admirer et t'empêcher de brûler. Si tu étais une plume, je t'envelopperais dans du papier de soie pastel et je te porterais avec moi dans ma poche partout où j'allais.
Tu es mon cœur, il bat pour toi, et pour cette raison nous ne pouvons pas être ensemble maintenant, mais nous le serons. Quand c’est sûr.
Je parle dans l'absolu parce que c'est la seule langue que je connaisse pour t'aimer ; et je t'aime absolument. J'aime inconditionnellement et irrévocablement. J'aime ton rire, j'aime ton entêtement, j'aime ta compassion, ton esprit, l'apparence de tes yeux lorsque tu écoutes de la musique, comme si tu pouvais lire les notes dans l'air. J’aime la façon dont tu fronces les sourcils quand tu es contrarié, et la façon dont tes joues deviennent roses quand tu es assis près du feu.
J'aime la façon dont tu aimes les autres et la façon dont tu me fais aimer le monde à mon tour. Je remercie les étoiles chaque jour de te connaître et je les prie de ne jamais me séparer de toi. Je sais que nous sommes séparés maintenant, mais sachez que nous sommes ensemble dans le sens qui compte. Tu es toujours avec moi, dans mon cœur, dans mon esprit, dans mes os. Je t'aime. Je vous verrai bientôt. Je t'aime. Embrasse James pour moi. Je t'aime.
Si je vous manque, levez les yeux, nous regardons les mêmes étoiles.
Vôtre pour toujours
R.A.B.”
“What does it say?” James urges after reading what he could in English, shaking Sirius by the shoulder impatiently.
“Wait.” Sirius whines, shoving James lightly. “Batty, this is going to take me a bit, I’ll write it down for you, ok?”
He says it regretfully enough that Rory does her best to hide her disappointment as she nods, biting her lip to hide her frown.
She politely excuses herself from the group, scurrying back up to her room and locking the door behind her. She couldn’t possibly wait for Sirius’s translation to write back. Who knows how long it would take, and Regulus had written her vows! She pushes aside the embarrassing realization that Sirius would be reading some very private thoughts.
Aurora pulls out a fresh sheet of parchment, and writes.
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James had always been an empathetic person, even as a child. Sure, he had his selfish moments like anyone else, he wasn’t perfect.
He was particularly prone to cockiness,and sometimes his confidence would override the feelings of others. He could get swept up in a moment, get a sort of tunnel vision.
One of his earliest memories was of flying a kite in the garden with his mum. He must have been about 4 or 5 years old, soft, chubby hands gripping the spool holding the kite aloft.
He was fascinated with the kite, the way it fluttered in the sky and tugged at his arms like an excited new friend begging to play.
It started with one step forward. Then two. Then five. Before he knew it, James was running fast, pulled along by the kite.
In the back of his little mind, he knew he heard his mother call out to him, telling him to slow down, to stop, to be careful. He tuned it out effortlessly, wholly focused on the feeling of flying. He was convinced that if he just gained a little more speed he would take off with the kite and fly free as a bird. An excited cackle escapes his mouth, carried off by the whipping wind.
“James!” Euphemia cries, too late. His feet fall out from beneath him and he’s rolling to a screeching stop, scraping his knees and palms in the process.
His mother is there before his tears can fall, swooping him up and carrying him inside.
Once his wounds were patched up, Effie sat him down for a serious talk. What stuck in his mind wasn’t her stern tone, or his fathers later lecture. What James read on her face as she was bandaging his wounds is what kept him in line. The worry and hurt in her eyes was too much for his little heart to bare, he hated being the source of her pain, never mind his own stinging knees and hands. He swore then never to be reckless again, and always heed her warning.
Of course he was still a little boy, moreover he was James, and therefore continued to be wild and reckless, but as raucous and mischievous as James got, he always remembered the lesson. That is to say, he behaved in the interest of others.
When the boys played their first prank as the marauders first year, and were inevitably caught, he took the blame so the others got less detention.
When he wanted to make a risky play in quidditch, he second guessed himself, not because he worried about his own safety, but he knew that if he got injured, it would upset Rory or Regulus.
This was a habit that carried into his young adulthood, it was almost second nature at this point to put others needs above his own. It would be pointed out by wiser minds such as Remus that this pattern leads to James neglecting his own needs, but James didn’t see the issue.
He had everything he needed, why not provide for others too?
In his mind, he hears Regulus scoff. If he was here, if he could hear his thoughts, Regulus would roll his eyes and click his tongue “Always the hero. Classic Gryffindor idiocy.” And James would smile.
Regulus isn’t here; but James smiles anyway. For Rory. For Sirius.
He makes sure to keep that smile in his back pocket as he knocks lightly on Auroras door.
Technically, it was the guest bedroom, but he already considered it hers. It made him happy, regardless of the unfortunate circumstances of her arrival. He was always happiest when all the people he loved were in one place, and this was just one step closer to that reality.
He tries his best to ignore the rather glaringly obvious missing piece.
Would Regulus even have his own room or would he stay with Rory? Bounce between the two?
With an effort, he shakes his head to dispel the very notion. Regulus had made it clear that that wouldn’t happen.
As much as James would love to save both the Black brothers, that wasn’t going to happen.
“Come in.”
James is pleasantly surprised to find Padfoot already there, his furry black mass half-hiding Aurora under his bulk. The massive black dog was trying his best to sit on Rory’s lap, but was effectively laying on top of her, smothering her in fur as she lays supine in bed.
She didn’t seem to mind, and was in fact burying her face in his neck scruff and holding him close.
James rushes forward in concern when he realizes she has been crying.
“What is it? What’s happened?”
Aurora whimpers, reaching for a letter at her bedside.
“It’s all my fault, I know it. I know it’s to punish him for my escape.”
James makes a pained, confused noise, pulling at his hair.
“It’s Regulus. He’s been sent on a mission by the Dark Lord.”