fighting the inevitable

Hogsmeade weekend was upon them and the castle was in chaos as everyone woke up early, ate breakfast in a mad rush, and headed to the village right after in hopes of getting all of their Christmas shopping done in a single day. It was highly ambitious but Regulus was certainly a part of it as he jumped around to put his shoes on while a toothbrush was hanging out of his mouth.

At breakfast he and his friends had all agreed to separate until noon where they could reconvene at the Three Broomsticks and it would seem everyone else had the same idea as many students roamed the village alone, walking in and out of the glistening store fronts and keeping their eyes on the lookout for anyone who may be snooping on them. Many shops had even taken to bagging items in plain black bags so as to conceal every detail about what may be inside and where from.

It seemed just a touch dramatic.

Regulus ambled along the street, the sounds of people chatting and music filtering out of shops creating a nice atmosphere and he stuffed his hands into his pockets in a feeble attempt at keeping them warm. The scarf tied tightly around his neck tickled him but it was all he could do to not freeze mid-step and be added to a store-front as a new statue. He smelled hot chocolate somewhere and vowed to get at least a cup, or five, while here.

He walked into the Quidditch Supply shop first and bought a set of gloves, broom polish, and a bundle of tins that when applied to a broom are meant to help speed, balance, and overall performance improval while flying.. He also bought a few things to help keep the wood on the broom and bristles at the end strong as Dorcas’ broom was a hand-me-down from her older brother. She refused a new broom saying the one she had was just as good as any other but that didn’t mean he couldn’t buy a few things to keep it in shape.

He tucked them in the pockets of his robes that were supposed to be endless, whether or not they actually were could be called into question. He hoped that he had done the spell correctly or else he’d just thrown Dorcas’ present into the void, never to be seen again.

He was on his way out when he passed by a girl who was standing and staring at a row of gloves. She’d been in the exact same spot when he’d walked in and was still there now. Her arms were crossed and she was biting her nails as she remained motionless except for her eyes that were darting all around.

She turned and caught him staring and he’d only managed a step when, 

“Excuse me!”

He froze, sighed to himself, and backtracked.

She was standing at the edge of the aisle, “I’m sorry but you played Quidditch right? My boyfriend wants these gloves and I just don’t know which ones to get, he’s on the Hufflepuff team, Ezra?”

If he remembered correctly, Ezra was a chaser so really any gloves could work. He walked up the aisle and found the best gloves for the job, feeling a pang considering he was helping the enemy but the girl looked so lost, he figured he’d be nice..

“These should be good,” he said, handing them to her.

She grasped them in both hands as if he’d given her some great treasure, “Thank you Sirius I know-.”

“I’m not Sirius?” he replied instantly.

She stopped up short and rubbed her eyes with a gloved hand, “Oh, Regulus, I’m so sorry, you just-.”

“Look like him?”

She nodded earnestly.

“I get that,” he said, making to leave anyway with a nod.

“Thank you Regulus ,” she called behind him to which he gave a small smile before leaving.

He supposed without the uniform he looked more like his brother than usual which was unfortunate. He and Sirius were less than a year apart, “Irish twins” so to speak so they looked far too similar for their own good. It had helped when they were younger and they wanted to switch places sometimes but it turned into a bad thing as they grew up and wanted to separate themselves from each other. 

It was hard to hate the sight of his brother when it was what he saw in the mirror almost everyday.

He went into “Herbs from Herb” for Evan, buying a rare small singing plant that would annoy the hell out of him but would probably delight him along with some new pots for the plants he already had. They were made from clay and had durable and growing charms on them so he’d never have to replace them when they got too small or Barty accidentally knocked them over- a frequent occasion.

Herb was a kind old man with a large bristly white beard and huge eyes magnified by his thick frames. He was probably cute, if a bit senile, and had convinced Regulus that he must buy something called a “Lover’s song.”

He led Regulus to the depths of his shop past jumping cacti and blossoming flowers into a small corner and it was as if he was dragging him into the jungle for how the plants had all become overgrown and wild here.

“Oh watch your step!” the man advised and he had to dodge an oversized Venus flytrap that snapped at his ankles.

He was ready to turn around and just give Evan a handshake when they finally came upon the plant they were looking for. 

On a shelf full of various fauna was a small pot containing a little green plant with white flowers. The top of the small shrub was perfectly round and the flowers atop were uniquely shaped, four petals shooting straight outward as though electrified. It was so perfectly arranged that it looked fake and he wondered if this was all a ruse.

He turned back to the man with a funny look on his face but he just stared up at Regulus with a large smile hidden under his thick facial hair, “You want it?”

“Er-.”

“I knew you would! Come on,” he said taking hold of Regulus' hesitation and he scooped up the small plant and led him back out of the jungle and into the main area of the shop.

And that is how he ended up with a small plant as well.

He pocketed it all straight away, not really caring if that specific plant ended up in the void. He’d probably just store it in the greenhouses and leave it up to Sprout anyways.

The thought reminded him of Remus and he wondered if he should buy him a gift. He’d become a lot closer than he thought he would be with the boy, occasionally speaking in Potions and going into full on debates in the greenhouses about the most inane topics.

With him in mind, he went into a small independent bookstore at the edge of the village that was practically abandoned save for a small woman behind the counter who raised a wrinkled hand at his arrival signified by a small bell above the door.

There were rows and rows of books stacked from floor to ceiling, muggle and magical interspersed with no actual reason behind them. There were books about explosive potions next to recipe books on how to make the best “burgers” but it was a comforting kind of chaos as the smell of parchment and ink flooded his senses.

He took his time, his head naturally falling to the side at a ninety degree angle so he could read the titles of the books he passed until something called to him.

That came in the form of a book titled “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen tucked away on the bottom shelf next to copies of the same book. It was cloth bound in a soft blue colour with a small golden ribbon wrapped around the width of it. He’d never heard of the book but he remembered Remus talking about her work. He didn’t know if he’d already read it but he took a chance and carried it as he continued.

He ended up getting a book about Astronomy as well, given his name, just in case he already had the first book and/or hated it. Regulus loved a good back up in times like this and he headed to the woman, Mariya, with them. She was quiet and her hands shook as she worked but she was sweet and he wondered if she knew Herb, they seemed like they’d make a good pair.

He stepped out of the shop with a wave and bumped into his favourite person in the whole world, his best friend really- Sirius.

Regulus was a breath away from apologising when he looked at him and frowned. Sirius’ head was tilted just slightly upward and the movement brought satisfaction to Regulus as he smirked down at him.

Remus was a step behind as he caught up to them and froze with a silent “Oh” on his lips.

“Beware what you have in your hands there Reg, that’s a muggle book if you didn’t already know, Mummy won’t like that,” Sirius quipped immediately, as if he had been practising that particular line the night beforehand.

“Oh, didn’t know you could read,” Regulus sighed, “that’s a relief, mum was getting worried.”

“Ta gueule,” he snapped offhand in French. (Fuck you).

“Quoi? tu ne peux pas jurer devant tes amis,” he replied with a slight lift of the brow. (What? Can’t curse in front of your friends?)

“Je voulais juste m'assurer que vous pouviez bien me comprendre,” he hissed. (I just wanted to make sure you could understand me clearly).

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas avec toi aujourd'hui?” (What the hell is wrong with you today?”). Remus remained looking at them warily, confused by the change of language, though his body language was tense as it seemed hexes or flying fists were universally understood.

“Comment allez-vous, bien? tu retournes dans une putain de prison,” he gritted out (How are you fine? You’re going back to a fucking prison). Sirius looked genuinely distressed at the idea of him going back and it was disconcerting, the stress clearly marring his features.

Regulus didn’t even know where this sudden change in topic was coming from or why he cared.

“Certains d'entre nous n'ont pas d'autre choix” (Some of us don’t get another choice) . It was true as it had been last year, as it always will be. He had reasoned this to himself a hundred times before- not everyone had an ‘out’ and that was fine. It had to be fine or else Regulus would quite literally crumble.

“Reste à l'école pour les vacances alors,” he whispered. (Stay at school for the holiday then) .

That was when it made sense- he wasn’t angry, it was just a facade. Sirius was scared, terrified for him. That’s why he had switched to French in the first place, it was a sort of comfort mechanism for them, the language they spoke just to each other when they were young before the outside world had come for them.

Sirius’ eyes were burning brightly but unlike the direct fire he tried to project it was more like  fiendfyre, wild and scared and burning up whatever came up in its path, unable to be controlled. 

“Tu n'es sûrement pas parti depuis si longtemps que tu as oublié les règles.” (Surely you have not been gone so long that you have forgotten the rules).

“Alright enough of the French,” Remus burst out, the thread of patience he had been holding onto suddenly snapping.

Then as he refocused on Sirius once more, he saw a small speck of white fall onto his raven black hair and a look up showed a sky full of snowflakes falling upon them, each one its own myriad of shapes and angles.

Joyeux noël Sirius, Merry Christmas Remus,” he said with a final look at them both before leaving, (Merry Christmas Sirius) .

The minute he was out of their sight, he felt his hand tremble and chest tighten. This entire month he had been deluding himself, ignoring what was to happen at the end of the month, postponing dealing with it but now it was upon him. They were due to leave in five days time to go back home and Sirius’ reaction brought on a barrage of memories.

The genuine fear in his eyes transferred to Regulus as he thought about what he’d have to endure alone for the first time.

RIght after his absence over the summer, his parents had been so preoccupied with being angry about his departure that they largely ignored him but now they were reignited with a sort of sick excitement in regards to whatever it was they did when they weren’t drunk as shown in their letters.

The little ball within him had been pulled at the seams by Sirius and he now felt a gaping well of dread in himself, infecting his bloodstream and making him want to run, run away from it all but there was nowhere to go.

Some of us don’t get another choice , he repeated to himself like a mantra, repeated it as he refocused on strengthening his mental walls in the small alley he had concealed himself in.

He strode back out of that alley the same Regulus he was before he had seen Sirius, the one who could handle it.

____

Barty was to receive a tattoo gun which could either go really good or really bad but either way, he knew he’d really like it.

He was getting ready to head back to the main square when he passed by a small shop that he’d never noticed before. It must be new based on the shiny exterior and gleaming windows that showcased all types of bits and pieces. He looked up and saw The Wishbone printed in shiny gold foiling across the front with an image of a butterfly in a jar next to it.

He stepped in and was instantly transported into another world where up was down and right was left as things hung from the ceiling and others stuck up from the ground. The shelves along the purple coloured walls were full of glass and metal trinkets, some chiming while others whirred.

If the corner of the plant shop was a jungle of plants then this was one of metal and glass, an antithesis and yet an exact replica.

He didn’t know what to focus on first- the plush monkey swinging across a branch strung across the ceiling, the fairy dancing on a tea plate, the brown cat slowly blinking at him from a perch next to a suit of armour, or the small fountain that squirted an unknown green liquid across the floor before absorbing it again.

One part of his brain was telling him to leave while the other convinced him to venture in further and eventually the latter won as he continued his journey. 

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and took his gloves off so he could run his fingers across whatever he could, enjoying the various textures and feels of everything even if he didn’t even know what exactly they were.

Eventually, he came across a square glass table set in the middle of the path he’d created for himself. RIght in the corner, concealed by a pair of gnome statues was a small stone of the deepest black, darker than anything he’d ever seen before- he wasn’t even able to see the light from the small jars above him reflecting off the surface as it seemingly ate that up as well.

When he held it, it was as if there was a hole in his hand.

He brought it up closer to his face for closer inspection and as he spun the stone he saw something right in its’ centre- a little ball of light that changed colours the longer he stared at it- pink to green to yellow, the colours kept changing and he stared at it, mesmerised.

He was so entranced by it that he hadn’t noticed a woman appear next to him. Her hair was in a halo around her face, dark curls with threads of white growing out from her face in tight curls, eyes of the darkest brown, and skin rich with age. She was wearing a plain green dress but the accessories shone in the gold jewellery that gleamed across her wrists and neck.

“That’s the Spirit Stone,” she clarified, her voice deep and smooth as river stones, “Meant to burn brightly no matter where one is.”

“It doesn’t seem very bright to me,” Regulus immediately responded then cringed, wondering if she might be insulted.

She simply extended her hand in request and he handed it over to her.

The soulless stone instantly lit up, a star suddenly sprouting from a dark hole. It washed their corner of the store in rainbow light and it was as if he was encapsulated in a diamond in which light and colour were reflected off of every surface. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

The bright light then slowly dimmed until it was just contained within the stone, threads of light animatedly writhing within it and making it seem as though the stone was alive.

He looked back up at the woman whose face reflected the bright light contained in her palm. 

“Bright enough yet?” she asked with a smirk.

“My gods, I’ve never seen- that was-,” he couldn’t find the words to explain what it was he saw or felt.

“I imagine you are buying Christmas presents for your friends, yes? I see all of you roaming past with nothing but fear in the eyes and fire under your behinds,” she snickered.

“Yes I am, I’ve never seen this shop before. Is it new?” he asked.

“It is, I bought it after my husband passed away- it was his dream,” she quieted, the stone dimmed.

“I’m sorry,” he replied automatically.

“Don’t be. He was sick, every day of his life was spent in pain, I’m just happy to know he is at peace now. He loved to collect things you see, such as this stone, and my house was overrun with these pieces of him. I opened this shop to sell them so that others may find joy in them too,” she explained, opening up to Regulus. 

He looked around in response, “He must have been an amazing man.”

“He was, now what were you thinking about when you held this stone?” she asked, peering up at him.

He thought about it until, “Nothing?”

She sighed dramatically, “Well of course nothing’s going to happen then, come on think of something, anything as long as it evokes something within you.”

He shut his eyes and dug back in his mind, knocking down some of the barriers he set to find something so this woman doesn’t think he’s a complete shell of a man.

He settled on the memory of his conversation with Sirius, not needing to back so far for the details or the feelings associated with it. The woman clasped his hand and slipped the stone within it and when he opened his eyes again, he was encapsulated in shades of blue and grey, the lights and colour dancing and repelling each other all at once.

He was sure the light that reflected off the woman’s face was reflected off his own as he spun in a small circle in awe. He felt like he was swimming in a pool of light.

Just as quickly as it came, it left, dimming down to just the small stone in his hand.

“The Stone feeds off of your emotions, it will burn only as brightly as you do- feel nothing, it will do nothing,” she finished.

“How much?” he asked instantly, the small object causing something to pulse within him with incessant need. 

“Take it,” she pushed.

“I can’t possibly-.”

“Give it to someone in your life that can keep the stone alive, perhaps their light will be enough to guide you as well.”

He was digging around in his pocket for money but when he looked up again, she was gone. He looked all around but it was as if she was never there at all and he sighed, knowing that he couldn’t navigate his way to a till even if he tried.

He still left some money on a small table that licked his fingers and stepped out, using the cat as a map to the entrance. He turned back to the shop with an odd feeling in him, as though the entire experience had just been a dream and he was just now waking up. 

The snow cushioned his steps as he walked towards his destination a bit early but it was no mind. He had spotted a young woman manning a cart of hot chocolate out front earlier and was determined to get a cup.

He was, however, stopped on the way by a body barreling right out of Zonko’s and into Regulus, knocking him straight onto the pile of snow that had been shovelled off the main path. He was now very grateful for it as he would’ve probably had a cracked skull without it.

He froze, stunned, for a few seconds as a face materialised in front of him.

It was James whose lips were moving faster than Regulus could comprehend.

“Oh my gods, I’m so sorry, I just-,” he continued to blabber on.

“Potter,” Regulus choked.

“Yes?” he replied breathlessly above him.

“You’re suffocating me,” he gasped out and James quickly rolled off of him, easing the pressure on his screaming ribs. “Please tell me you have a good reason for running out of a shop into the street and running over innocent bystanders,” he said, still on the ground staring up at the clouded sky.

“Peter was chasing me with balding powder,” he whined and Regulus couldn’t help the laugh that burst out of him at that. It was completely and utterly ridiculous, just like most things seemed to be with James.

He got off the ground and held out a warm hand for Regulus to grasp onto and pull him up.

Apparently using all of his force in the action too as he pulled Regulus right up to his chest, whipping an arm out to put behind him so he wouldn’t keel over from the kickback.

James’ features were snowkissed with his rosy cheeks and pink nose. He had a knitted cap atop his head, causing his hair to curl out wildly in the front and in any other spots it could escape from. His hands were ungloved, just as Regulus’ still were, but remained burning hot despite the chill.

He let go of Regulus’ hand and quickly patted all of the snow off of his cloak but he was already drenched anyway.

“Well I’d say it was worth it then,” Regulus finished, noting that James would look rather horrifying without any hair and if he was collateral damage in the fight against that, he was okay with it.

“Cheers,” he smiled. He was wearing a pair of black muggle denim and a bright red jumper, a rose in the midst of the grey and snowy village. He stood out among all the black- robed and capped witches and wizards that bustled around them though Regulus had an inkling that he would stand out even if he wore all black as well.

James was meant to be spotlighted.

“Er- Regulus?” came a voice from behind them, breaking their locked gazes.

It was Evan, arms laden with bags and looking at them as though they each had grown extra heads. He was holding two cups in his outstretched hands and Regulus could’ve cried with relief as he saw the steam floating out of the exposed lids.

He immediately jumped out of James arms as though they had been doing something elicit and turned without another word, shoving Evan forward into the pub.

“So…” he said, drawing out the ‘o.’

“He almost killed me, what’s new? Oh, there’s an open spot there,” he rushed forward towards the large table at the back that was rarely ever open.

Evan put his bags on the chair signalling to others that they were all taken and yes their friends were on the way and no they cannot borrow the chair.

“Finish your shopping?” Evan asked, head leaning back on the back of the booth. He was rubbing his wrists from where the handle of the bags had rubbed in deeply. Regulus sipped on the hot chocolate, savouring the heat that it spread on its way down.

“Oh yeah, just have some stuff that’ll come in the post for you all on Christmas.”

“Always going above and beyond our Reg,” he smiled.

Evan's golden hair was sticking to his head in wet patches and making him look younger than usual, his soft features highlighted with his cap and scarf turning him into a teddy bear. Regulus just wanted to squeeze his cheeks though Evan would probably hex his fingers off if he tried to.

“Where are the others?” Regulus asked, sneaking a look at the clock showing it was a quarter past 12.

“Who knows, they’re always getting sidetracked.”

Dorcas ended up walking in with Marlene a little while later, breaking apart with a cool nod of the head.

She stepped up to the table with a wide grin.

“She’s really got you huh?”

“She has not ,” she defended, the dopey smile betraying whatever she tried to negate with her words.

Then came Pandora and finally Barty who walked in with his apparent new girlfriend ‘Goldie’ and ended up sitting at a table with her friends, sending them a nod and an apologetic look.

That effectively ruined Evan’s mood but no one commented on it as he sulkily downed Butterbeers, looking anywhere except their table on the far wall.

They all chatted about their purchases in very vague terms and their day, Regulus leaving out the incident with Sirius and the shop and Dorcas not mentioning what she had exactly been doing with Marlene.

The rush hour began in earnest as the snow pelted down harder, coating the entire village in white snow.

They booked it back to the castle before the visibility got to zero and separated at the entrance to the castle, promising to see each other at dinner.

Regulus went back to the Ravenclaw dorms, locked his purchases in his trunk, and fell asleep right away, napping the rest of the day away to the medley of whatever song Pandora was humming to and rain pattering against the window.

_______

Surprise!

Astronomy Tower tonight, same time

I take it we won’t swim for a while yet- good for you, bad for me, I’m out of a job!

I hope you’ll still grace me with your presence

Sincerely, 

J.P.

Regulus hadn’t considered the fact that their lessons would be over for a long while and he couldn’t deny the relief he felt at the fact that James hadn’t completely ended their nightly adventures yet.

Though just because James was out of a job didn’t mean Regulus was.

He made a stop at the Library to pick out a book on Occlumency to give to James considering that’s what most teachers did- doled out textbooks and ordered them to read certain pages. He didn’t imagine telling James that he just sort of happened upon the skill would help him much.

He pushed open the door to the tower and found James looking out over the stone-walled edge.

He turned on his heel at the noise, “Reg!” He was rather chipper already.

“New location I see, how original.”

“Like it? If not we can-.”

“I like it,” Regulus assured him, settling down against the wall he was leaning on, savouring the warmth, “How do you get your warming charms so…”

“Good? I’ve been working on them ever since we started our lessons.”

“Sometimes I wonder if you have an ‘off’ button,” Regulus huffed exasperatedly, wondering how James was always such a ball of energy.

“Never, now come on, I’m ready. I’ve already started working a bit on my ‘mental walls’ and such,” he winked across from him, clearly feeling proud of the verbiage, “Show me your ways.”

“Have you now? What’s your base like?” Regulus asked, already able to see his lighthouse clearly.

“My base?” James asked, stalling his proudness and dampening his confidence.

“I mean, where do your memories go?”

James just shook his head.

So they had more work ahead of them than he thought.

As Regulus shut his eyes, he pictured herself on a small island, right on the cliffside where waves crashing against a rocky shore could be heard. As he stood on the island, he saw the remains of a lighthouse. It once stood tall and relatively impenetrable but had crumbled from disuse as it often did when he was at school; however he knew that he would be able to build it back up to a fortress before going home. 

Each brick of the lighthouse was an unwanted or hidden memory, pull one out suddenly, the whole thing may collapse but with Regulus’ reinforcements, it’ll remain standing and impervious to attack, quickly patching itself back up again.

His mother often tried to get past said reinforcements, slipping past them or full on breaking through them on her bad days but it only served to show him what he needed to work on so he’d better handle it the next time around.

“I sort of just imagined a wall,” he said sheepishly.

Regulus took a deep breath and scooted closer to James, moving so that they were eye-level, so close that he could make out the green flecks in his eyes and the little spots along his cheeks.

“A simple wall won’t do, this isn’t a garden we’re talking about but your mind. Now shut your eyes.”

He did as commanded.

“I want you to clear your mind and think of your childhood, days spent out in the garden or sitting with your mum as she drank tea, nice things,” Regulus explains in low tones and drinks in the sight of James’ smile slowly forming, dimpling his cheeks and showing just a sliver of white teeth.

“Now I want you to think of some not so nice times, falling off your broom or getting caught doing something you weren’t supposed to be doing, embarrassing things you’d rather not relive,” the smile slowly turned into a grimace at his words.

“You want to put those memories away, where do you put them? What does your mind naturally do?” he asked, nudging James’ mind in a certain direction.

“I have an attic at home where we put old boxes up in, that’s what I see,” he whispered.

“Follow it then, box them up and put them up on a high shelf for another time, focus on the good, not the bad,” Regulus ordered as if guiding him through a maze.

They had become closer since they started, Regulus subconsciously leaning in and James following the sound of his voice,

James suddenly opened his eyes, pupils blown wide and eyebrows high. Regulus instantly pulled away, subconsciously picking at his coat sleeve, “Good?”

“Good,” he answered, nodding to himself, “What do you see when you close your eyes?” James inquired, apparently too intrigued to comment on their closeness.

“I see a cliff on a beach, and a lighthouse at the edge of it, each memory is a brick in it,” he answered honestly. It feels too personal to give away, never even having discussed it with Sirius but it felt right considering they were in a tower right now, strong and resilient against the elements.

“Where’s it from?” he asked, likely wondering if Regulus had ever known this place in his mind considering James drew on something from his memory.

“I’m not sure. I saw it in a storybook when I was younger, I’m not sure it’s real,” he vocalized a bit dejectedly- the place that had brought him such comfort might not even exist outside of his memories.

Abruptly, James laid a hand on Regulus’ knee, warmth bursting from the spot, “I know it is.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Everything is real, if you believe in it enough,” he said in a very Pandora-like fashion, a bit dreamily and wistfully, somewhere between ‘here’ and ‘there.’

“You’re fantastical,” Regulus shook his head as he said the word.

“You should try it,” James suggested.

They remain in silence for barely a few more seconds before James continues, “Remus told me about a certain French exchange between you and Sirius?”

“Oui,” Regulus responds with an eye roll.

“He was rather annoyed he didn’t get to catch the details,” he offered.

“I’m sure whatever he imagined is close enough to the truth,” Regulus replied, considering.

“Teach me something in French,” James requests, leaning in again, the scent of jasmine and rain brushing over Regulus. He looks over past James’ shoulder and speaks,

“Clair de lune.”

“Something related to the moon?”

“Moonlight,” Regulus automatically says, suddenly breathless.

James grins and Regulus starts thinking of sunlight.

“Chandini,” he says and Regulus strains at the sound. “Moonlight in Urdu, chandini,” he repeats.

“Beautiful,” he says, because it is, looking up at the half moon floating above them.

“Yes,” James says, not breaking eye contact from Regulus.

The energy in the air shifted and their lesson was rapidly devolving into something deeper and richer and something might have happened as James' eyes dropped down to his lips that he darted his tongue out to wet had a shot of lightning not ripped through the air accompanied by a loud clap of thunder.

James' eyes widened, turning into saucers at the sound and his inner light dimmed instantly.

“We should go,” Regulus whispered.

“Stay,” was James' reply. “I can’t sleep during a storm.”

He clutched Regulus’ fingers tightly, for the first time using Regulus as his lifeline instead of the other way around.

Regulus replied with a squeeze of equal force, sitting back next to him instead of across, listening to the comforting sound of a storm brewing while James trembled like a leaf.

He cast a muffling charm around them so that the noise was lessened and leaned back against the wall, shutting his eyes softly and basking in the moment. He never thought the boy who seemed brave in the face of anything would be scared of a natural storm. He’d been able to weather Regulus’ tantrums with ease.

A light pressure on his shoulder showed James leaning on his shoulders, eyes shut and back moving in time with slow breaths.

For a moment Regulus felt paralyzed, not quite knowing what to do in this situation, he considered waking him up or shifting so that he was leaning on the wall and not him- surely his bony shoulder wasn’t a comfortable pillow. Despite his reservations, James had still fallen asleep, just as he had that night spent out by the lake.

He had read in a book once that people only fell asleep in the presence of people they trusted and felt safe with and he wondered how true that rang out for them. Surely James felt like that as he had so quickly fallen asleep but did he feel that same way? Was that initial night just a fluke? He wasn’t sure but he pushed the thought away as soon as it came.

“Goodnight,” he whispered into James’ hair, the words carried away in the winter air.