Suspicious Sinistra
James’ POV
Snape and Mulciber were snickering at James as he stood there, gripping his wand tightly as he tried to soothe the anger that bubbled in him.
“Not so brave alone, are we?” Snape ran a hand through his greasy nest of hair, fingers getting stuck on a knot for a moment. If it was an attempt to look more intimidating, it failed.
“I don’t fancy detentions,” James responded coolly, taking a step back.
“I won’t tell if you won’t,” Snape gave him a wicked grin and pulled out his wand, Mulciber at his back, whispering something to him.
“I’m not fighting you, Snivellus.”
“Then this should be easy for me,” and Snape was walking towards him in long, striding steps.
“Fuck off,” James spit, begging for Snape to leave. But, or course, he didn’t.
When Snape was far too close for comfort, James bolted down the corridor, trying not to fight with the boy. He kept his wand at his side, however, in case things escalated.
“Scared, Potter?” Snape yelled out as he began to pick up his pace. Mulciber shot a hex James’ way, but missed him by half a meter or so.
“Just sick of your shit,” James pointed his wand at Mulciber and muttered a hex which made him slip on his feet. If he was being honest, it was his favorite hex to use when fighting other people, or simply making fun of them. Mulciber fell face first, with Snape only stopping briefly to see what happened.
James rounded the corner and headed for the doors to the courtyard the moment Snape turned away. He heard him shout from behind him but just kept running, right out of the doors and into the autumn air. The breeze hit him cold and hard, but it just felt good.
James’ first instinct was to run for the quidditch pitch, Merlin knows why. He didn’t even hear Snape follow after him, but he ran anyway.
Once he reached the pitch, he saw that Slytherin was practicing, and made the executive decision to sit on the field and watch. It’s not like Snape would try to interrupt their practice, even with one of his cronies as captain.
James sifted through the players in the air, noticing Regulus. He was much lower than everyone else, helping a kid learn to fly faster. Whoever it was seemed to be a first year, which made James furrow his eyebrows. He hadn’t recalled any first years joining the team.
When clicked, however, that the first year wasn’t wearing any equipment and was simply in a jumper and some sweats, he realized that Regulus was teaching him. James smiled at the thought of someone as cold as him teaching a first year to play during their own practice time.
James watched as the kid followed Regulus’ lead, leaning forward on his broom. He rushed to catch up with the older boy, who was moving at an incredible speed. Although he didn’t beat him back to their original spot, James had to admit he’d done a pretty good job.
Regulus glanced about the pitch, somehow not noticing James, although he was in bright red now that he’d taken his cloak off. The look on his face was funny, and James could tell if he was worried or shocked. He opted for the former when he quickly leaned in and whispered something to the younger boy, which made him burst into laughter.
When Regulus was back in the air, James couldn’t help but watch. His dark curls flew about in the wind, framing his face perfectly, and a smile played at his lips as he flew about, clearly enjoying himself. James smiled too, imagining what it would be like in the air right now.
Just after he’d adjusted his glasses, Avery stood to block his view. “Potter, what are you doing here?”
“Hiding.” James shifted himself so that he could still see Regulus.
“From who?”
“You’re greasy haired lord,” James grinned up at the Slytherin, holding back a laugh.
“Get out of here,” Avery rolled his eyes.
“Aww, don’t be so cruel!” James threw a hand to his forehead, throwing his head back for flair.
“We have the pitch for practice, I can kick you out if I want.”
James rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine, I’m gone.” He waved his hands in the air, ducking his head slightly as he got up and began to walk away from Avery.
He heard a loud exhale from the Slytherin captain, and smiled just slightly.
Before James left, he dared to glance back at Regulus, who was now stopped in the air watching him leave. He swore he saw the boy blush when he looked up at him, ducking his head and turning around, but he was too far to tell. James just gave him a small salute and skipped away, hoping to get in a quick run before dinner.
-~-~-~-~-~-~-
James rushed up to the astronomy tower, practically late for class. He had hoped to get there early to catch Regulus, but there was no chance of that happening now. He quickly burst through the door, cold air hitting his face as students turned to look at him.
“Quite an entrance, Mr. Potter,” Professor Sinistra raised a brow, giving him a small smile.
“Sorry, Professor,” He ducked his head slightly as he walked near Regulus, stopping a few feet short of the boy.
“As I was saying,” she continued to explain that day's lesson. James didn’t listen to her, instead stating holes into the side of Regulus’ head.
He was disappointed at the lack of acknowledgement, but pushed through the class anyway, hoping for a minute alone afterwards. When Sinistra finally dismissed the class, he saw that Regulus was dawdling.
James slowly gathered his notes into his bag, watching as Professor Sinistra moved to the door, eyeing the two boys.
“Lovely hair today, Professor,” James saw Regulus roll his eyes, which made him smile.
“Don’t butter me up,” Sinistra placed her hand on the door handle, giving James an unamused look. “I just care that you two don’t get up to anything while I’m gone, with your reputation and all.” She waved a hand when she said it, audibly exhaling.
“No need to worry, I’ll be out of here in minutes.”
Professor Sinistra nodded, hesitantly, shooting them one last look before exiting the astronomy tower.
James turned to see Regulus looking at him now, his usual apathetic, detached look present. He bit his lip, unsure of how to start a conversation.
“Potter,” Regulus greeted flatly.
“Hi, Reg,” his tone was apprehensive. James’ hand moved to the back of his neck as he averted his eyes.
The other boy took a loud breath. “It’s Regulus,” he took a step closer to James, “What do you want, anyway?”
“To apologize,” James spoke softly, “I want to apologize.”
“For what?” Regulus asked.
“The other night,” James tried to step around the topic.
“I don’t have a perfect memory, Potter,” Regulus rolled his eyes.
“When I brought up your parents,” James spit it out, the words feeling sticky in his throat.
Regulus tightened his jaw. “I don’t care,” he dismissed it with his hand.
“You don’t have to lie to me,” James was unsure of what to say next, “I know, about everything. Sirius told me.”
“I said I don’t care.”
James sighed, dropping it for now.
“I don’t particularly like you, you know,” James started.
“Nor do I.”
“You’re just so difficult sometimes. I want to help, plenty of people do, but you never let anyone.”
“Is that really so crazy to you?” Regulus raised a brow.
“Shouldn’t it be?”
“You tell me, Potter.”
“Yes, it should be absolutely insane,” he exhaled heavily. “It’s important to let other people help you, and to have hope for yourself. God, Reg.”
“Regulus,” he coughed slightly, covering a smirk.
James ran a hand through his hair, and laughed in a way they sounded like a huff.
“Why are you so obsessed with that nickname?”
“You ask so many questions,” James breathed, running a hand through his hair with a smile on his face.
“You don’t give enough answers,” Regulus leaned on the railing of the tower as well, shutting his eyes as he inhaled the crisp air. James couldn’t help but stare at him a moment.
Night, he decided, was when Regulus looked most beautiful, and James found that horrifically unfair. His pale skin glowed like the moon, freckles scattered like stars. His curly, raven hair might as well have been the night sky itself, one flooded by dark clouds.
He was so beautiful, and so pretty for a man. Everything about him encapsulated James, it made his throat sticky and his breaths short. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at the boy.
James leaned his head on the palm of his hand, studying Regulus’ face, wanting to memorize each detail.
“If you keep staring, I’m worried your eyes will fall out,” Regulus stared back into his eyes, and it felt as though he was looking into his soul.
Feeling vulnerable, James quickly looked away. “Sorry Reg,” he smiled into his hand.
“And if you keep using that nickname, so might your tongue.”
James moved away from the railing, grabbing his bag on the way. “Whatever, Reg,” and he ducked through the door before he could be hexed by the boy.
“Fuck you, Potter!” Regulus yelled after him, but he did not follow him.