Morning Star

Regulus knows he shouldn't have fallen asleep, it's always dangerous when he does that, but he can't really help it. When James wraps him up in his arms like that- it feels like he's being blanketed in a safety cocoon, away from all the bad of the world.

He's come to quite like James, surprisingly enough. He's actually found it hard not to like James, maybe he likes him too much.

For a while after Regulus left Grimmauld Place, he couldn't sleep. At Hogwarts it was different because that was like a second home to him, and had been for the past four years, but when he first arrived at the Potter's he just couldn't let himself breathe.

That was all the way back in the summer, though. Ever since that first night when Regulus had the - potentially problematic - idea to sneak to James' room, he's found himself accidentally falling asleep. At the Potter's he's always on edge; at least at Grimmauld he knew where his parents were, but here... he's blind.

Regulus doesn't know why it was James' door he opened that first time, rather than Sirius'. He used to find Sirius when they were kids, maybe that's why. Maybe it reminds him too much of the old days.

Still, he knows he shouldn't fall asleep here. Anyone could come in at anytime - Effie, Monty, Mellie, Remus, Sirius... Yet, he still finds himself across the landing, hands on James' door handle, praying to Merlin that James will let him stay, and he does. Every single time.

It's still dark out when he wakes; James' arms are cradling him still, just as they were the night before. His face looks peaceful, and his mouth is slack open. Regulus watches where his eyelashes flutter in his sleep. He isn't wearing his glasses, which is a strange sight for Regulus, who before all of this sneaking into James' bed thing, had never seen the boy without his signature moon-shaped glasses.

James' grip on him isn't too tight, so Regulus manages to safely slip away, without waking him up. Before leaving, he leans down and presses a soft kiss to the sleeping boy's temple. He doesn't know what compels him to do it, only that it feels necessary.

He doesn't sleep when he climbs back into his own bed, instead staring at the canopy above, trying not to think too hard about the next day.

It's six in the morning, which means Sirius is due to come flying into his room (not literally), and parading onto his bed in about an hour. Sirius always did love Christmas more than Regulus ever did.

As predicted, Regulus' bedroom door slowly creaks open, and Sirius' head pops into view. He hears his older brother giggle and shush someone, before tiptoeing over to Regulus' bed, apparently not knowing he is already awake. Then, a second, and a third figure come in - Regulus immediately notices them as being James and Remus. Remus being the third one, the most reluctant one.

"Three... Two... One..." Sirius whispers.

Remus flicks on the lights, as both Sirius and James fling themselves on top of Regulus and yell out a cheery, "Merry Christmas!"

Regulus lets out a noise that sounds like he's just been stabbed; Sirius is lying over his torso, whilst James is pinning down his legs.

"Fuck- get off- get the fuck off me," he groans. "You're all children!"

"Merry Pottery Christmas, Reginald!" Sirius grins down at him, trying to tackle him into a hug, which Regulus tries to fight off... and fails. James comes up behind Sirius, jumping on top of him, and wrapping his arms around both Black brothers.

"Sometimes I regret the choices that have got me here," Regulus says flatly. He sends Remus a look that clearly says help.

Remus chucks his hands up in the air, as if in surrender, and comments, "I'm just glad it's not me this year."

"Ok- Ok, Sirius! You can get off me now."

"Alright." Sirius attempts to get up, but is only weighed down by James. He laughs, "James. Come on, mate." When James doesn't budge, Sirius twists his whole body suddenly, causing James to be flung off the bed.

Regulus actually does laugh at that.

"Argh," he groans from the floor. "My injuries..."

"Oh, shit. Yeah-" Sirius gets up, helping James to his feet.

"It's fine, I can't actually feel them anymore."

James and Sirius start downstairs. Remus looks back once more at Regulus, who is still sitting in his bed - feeling thoroughly attacked, might he add.

"You coming?" Remus asks, jerking his head towards the door.

"I suppose I don't have a choice." He sighs and climbs out of bed, following the other boys down the stairs.

Monty is already sitting in one of the armchairs, the one closest to the fireplace, when they get down there. He informs them that Effie is in the kitchen making breakfast, to which James and Sirius both light up at and head in the general direction of the kitchen.

Remus sits himself on one side of the couch, and begins to converse with Monty, who had previously been reading a book. By what Regulus can see, it's on potions, which is his personal specialty. He thinks this could be useful, if he has to get involved in conversation today.

He sits himself down on the couch too, not so close to Remus that they're sitting next to each other, but not so far away it looks like he's trying to edge away from him. He just sits bang in the middle.

After a couple of minutes, a frowning Sirius and James come traipsing into the room.

"Any luck?" Remus asks.

"No," Sirius mumbles.

"I had hope for you boys this year," Monty replies, eyes going back down to his book.

"What do you mean?" Regulus asks, feeling like he's missed a chapter.

"Mum never lets us eat until after we've opened presents," James explains.

"We've tried every year," Sirius agrees.

"And every year they fail," Remus speaks.

Sirius sits down beside Remus, pulling a face at him, to which Remus just snorts. James sits next to Regulus, the only space left on this - surprisingly large - couch.

"Morning," James smiles at him. "Sleep alright?"

He asks it so casually, which is fine because it's a normal question. So normal, Sirius doesn't catch onto it.

"Yeah, great- I mean, fine."

Shit. Why is he mumbling?

"I slept like a baby," James yawns, stretching out his legs and arms. "You ok?"

Regulus knows what James is asking: Are you still missing your parents too much?

"I would say 'I'll survive', but with both you and Sirius around, I don't think that's an accurate assessment of how today will go."

"Hey!" Sirius swats him half-heartedly.

"Sirius and I on Christmas," James goes on, "is the best thing to ever happen to the world, and you should feel lucky to be one of the rare people to witness it."

Regulus doesn't answer, instead craning his neck to look behind Sirius at Remus. "Are they going to be like this all day?"

"You get used to it," is all he says.

Effie wanders through from the kitchen, a couple trays of filled mugs in her hands. Sirius leaps up from his seat, instantly going to take both trays from her.

"Thank you, Darling," she smiles at Sirius, giving him a kiss on the cheek. He gets a look on his face- Regulus has never seen it before. Like he wants to please her, wants her to be proud of him. Of course, he never did care what Walburga Black thought of him.

She sits herself down on Monty's lap, wrapping him up in her arms, and resting her chin on his head.

They look so perfect, Regulus thinks.

Like a real family.

"Right," James slides forwards on the couch, clapping his hands and rubbing them together. "Presents?"

"Presents," Sirius agrees.

"Boys! Boys!" Effie calls over the racket Sirius and James have begun to make. They're both inching towards the Christmas tree. "First, we have to explain the rules to our newest member."

"We open presents in age order," James begins.

"And take as much time as we like," Sirius adds.

Very different to a Black family Christmas then, Regulus doesn't say. Mother would keep them as far from the presents as possible, forcing them to stay isolated in their separate rooms all day. Later, they would be forced to attend a Black family Christmas function, filled with all his stuck-up relatives and most of the sacred twenty-eight. They would be forced to socialise all evening, all the way until the moon is at it's apogee in the black engulfed sky. Only when each and every guest has left, would Regulus and Sirius be allowed to dig into their presents.

They never got to enjoy that part either. Their mother made sure of that, giving them just enough time to tear the wrapping off before sending them off to bed.

No, Christmas has never been something worth celebrating to Regulus. Nothing cheery or sparkly or warm. Just... hell.

"And who is the youngest here?" Effie asks the boys. "James, I'm afraid that title no longer belongs to you."

"Oh, yeah." James turns to face Regulus, a grin on his face. "Reggie, will you do the honours of starting our Christmas morning?"

Regulus' eyes wander the room, staring at everyone like they're about to tell him this is all a joke, and that he needs to hurry up and open his presents before they're taken away from him.

"It's ok," Sirius nudges him with his knee. "You're not trapped anymore. Take your time."

Regulus turns back to face the tree; it's so grand, covered in classic gold and red. Gryffindor colours. Baubles glistening on every other branch, whilst tinsel hugs the tree's spine. It's quite a plump tree - jolly, he would say. Back at Grimmauld, everything was so dark and skeletal, like bodies. Even their Christmas tree was black. It had a low amount of baubles on it - only green, of course - and was not plump like this one. It was thin, it's branches sticking out orderly, somehow seeming threatening - like they might poke out and jab you if you got too close.

He swallows and sits up off the couch, walking over to the Christmas tree. If he's being honest, he didn't expect to receive any presents this year. Ok- maybe one from Sirius. Maybe. But that's it.

It takes him by surprise when he kneels beside the tree and finds a large stack of presents, all labelled 'Regulus'. He picks up the one closest to him and goes back over to the couch. It's a medium-sized present, wrapped in red wrapping paper, with silver glittered reindeers decorating it.

There's a small label attached to it;

Dear Regulus,

Happy Christmas!

All our love,

Effie and Monty xxx

He smiles, carefully tearing the package open. Out fall a pair of dragon-hide gloves, perfect for Quidditch. They look... expensive.

"I- Wow, thank you." He stares up at Effie and Monty, trying to show through his eyes what his mouth can't seem to express in words.

"You deserve it, deary."

He stares back down at the gloves in his lap and carefully places them on the floor in front of his feet, admiring them for a second more, before straightening up again.

"Uh, where should I put the paper?"

"Chuck it over!" Effie sits up, holding her hands out for the paper. A childish sort of glee covers her face, reminding Regulus of James.

He rolls the paper up into a ball and throws it over to her. "Incendio," she says, and they all watch as the ball of reindeers dissipate in the golden flames.

"Fifi," Monty raises his eyebrows at his wife, giving her one of those fatherly looks that says you're in trouble.

"What?" She shrugs. "I'm a big girl."

"Bad influence is more like it," Monty mumbles, but he's smiling.

"James, you're up!" Sirius squeals. Regulus turns to find his brother practically jumping in his seat, body buzzing, and both legs fidgeting.

James makes his way to the base of the tree, eyes examining each present labelled 'James', until he finally picks one. His hands wrap around a cylinder-shaped present, wrapped in brown paper, different to all the others. That's because it's from Regulus.

He wasn't sure if they were getting each other presents, but in the end decided to get James one anyway. Surprisingly, he's done a lot for Regulus this year. He's been there to talk to him, given him support, made him feel less out of place in a world he feels he was never made for. But when he's with James, he feels like the world is his for once, like he hasn't stepped into someone else's.

James sits down beside Regulus and silently reads the label. It's nothing special;

To James.

Merry Christmas.

R.A.B.

James glances over at him, gratefulness and- surprise in his eyes. Well, Regulus understands why he would be surprised. This was not very Regulus Black of him. Maybe that's why he did it.

He takes his time undoing the wrapping, pulling out a cylinder box, with a lid on top. Regulus takes the wrapping from his hands, balling it up and chucking it over to Effie. He doesn't know why he finds that so fun. Maybe because he knows his mother would never allow such a thing to happen - throwing paper balls across a room, and setting them ablaze mid-air.

James pops the lid off the top, balancing it on his knee. He pulls out the scrolled up piece of material, putting the box neatly on the floor. He unwinds it gently, obviously trying not to rip it. Regulus becomes so nervous, his leg begins to bounce in rhythm with Sirius'.

He watches James' reaction as his eyes wander over Regulus' creation. It had taken him two weeks to make, which might have been longer than necessary, but that's not the point.

"Wow..." James breathes. His eyebrows draw together, he smiles sincerely, still tracing the tapestry with his eyes.

"What is it?" Remus pipes up.

"I-" James stops, gently shaking his head. "A tree."

"A what?" Sirius asks ignorantly.

"A tree," James repeats. "With stars."

That's not really all it is, though a part of him is hoping James won't discover what else it does. Not yet. Not until they're alone.

It's a tree, just like the ones they climbed back in the summer. Tall and proud, with spindly branches. At the end of each branch is a unique star. Obviously, Regulus could not fit every star on there, but he fit a fair few on there - maybe a hundred.

"I don't understand..." Sirius says. "What's so special about a tree- and who was it from?"

"Me," Regulus cuts in. "We used to climb trees in the summer, so... a tree." He shrugs, pretending this present is just a normal present. Pretending it's a boring present. Pretending it is something it's not - a present without meaning, as if he just got the first thing he could think of, when really he spent ages trying to come up with the perfect present for James.

"Oh, well that's... fascinating." Sirius sounds like he's trying to be sincere, but he's never been good at hiding his true feelings. "Really, it's beautiful."

Regulus resists rolling his eyes. "Remus, you're next, right?"

"I s'pose," Remus sighs. He places his hands on his knees and pulls himself up off the couch.

The present opening is more fun than Regulus thought it ever could be. He has a great haul: dragon-hide gloves, a new woolly jumper, some Sleekeazy's Hair Potion, and a months supply of sugar quills (his favourite) from Effie and Monty; a chocolate frog from Remus, and (to his surprise) one from Peter too. Evan got him the same thing as every year - new quills. Barty sent him a book by a muggle author called 'How To Get A Boyfriend: A Book For Dummies', which he quickly tried to hide from Sirius. Emma sent him some sweets from Honeydukes, and Pandora sent him a vile of 'Draught of Peace'. Dorcas sent him a muggle contraption called a Polaroid Camera, apparently one that never runs out. Runs out of what?- Regulus has no clue.

He still has a couple of presents left under the tree, one of which has Sirius' perfectly curly writing on.

Crack.

Regulus goes rigid. Next to him, Sirius goes still too.

They both know that sound: apparition. The Potters aren't expecting anyone round just yet, but maybe someone has come early. Maybe.

Maybe.

Or maybe, Regulus' fears are about to come true. Maybe they've come to take him away.

"I'll be right back." Effie hurries off to the door, looking slightly confused, but otherwise as pleasant as always.

"It's ok," Regulus hears James whisper. "No one is coming to take you away. If they try, I'll save you- this time, I'll save you."

This time.

"Is he here? He must be. I've been to Hogwarts and they've told me he's come home for Christmas. Is he here?"

Regulus knows that voice. He knows it well.

It sounds like his childhood. Like hide and seek, and running in the back garden. It sounds like the sun being swallowed whole by darkness. The Blacks always did have a specialty at fucking up their children.

"-I'll get him," Effie's voice comes gently. "But if he doesn't want to come, I won't force him to."

"If he doesn't come, I'll have to kindly invite myself in." Narcissa's tempered voice retorts. "I am his family, after all."

"Regulus, deary?" Effie enters the living room, loitering in the doorway. She gives him a pitying look, making him want to cave in on himself. "Your cousin is here- she doesn't want to take you anywhere. She just wants to talk to you."

Regulus freezes. Should he believe that? Does Narcissa really just want to "talk"? Is this a trap?

Suddenly, Sirius takes his hand and manages to bring his focus back to the world around him, digging him back up from his thoughts.

"I'll go with you, yeah?"

Sirius hasn't faced anyone from their family - other than Regulus - since the day he was almost killed by one of them. Him offering to simply walk to the door with Regulus to "talk" with Narcissa- Well, let's just say that Regulus finally understands how much Sirius regrets leaving him, if he's willing to face his worst fear for him.

"Ok," he finds his voice.

"Sirius-" Remus starts, but he doesn't say anything else. Regulus reads the worry in his eyes, knowing he's also remembering the last time Sirius was anywhere near another member of their family.

"I'll be ok, Moons. Honest." Sirius gives Remus a small smile and stands, still holding Regulus' hand. They meet Effie in the doorway, and she walks them to the front door.

Narcissa's shockingly blonde hair comes into view, making her look just like her boyfriend- or is he her husband now? Regulus isn't sure.

"Regulus," she says his name like it's a greeting.

"Cis- Narcissa," he corrects himself. Foolish of him really, using the name he gave her during their childhood when he couldn't pronounce her full name.

Regulus thinks she's just going to pretend Sirius doesn't exist, and is shocked when she looks at him, giving him a small nod of acknowledgment. Sirius nods warily back.

"I'll leave you to it then," Effie says from behind them. "If you need me, just call."

"Thank you," Sirius responds, watching Effie until she's gone from his line of vision. "What do you want?" He says it snappily, quick and sharp, as if he won't get another chance.

"It's Walburga..." Narcissa's face creases in worry. Regulus feels guilty at the amount of dread that fills him at those two words.

I shouldn't care about her.

She isn't worth it.

She's a manipulator.

An abuser.

She tried to kill Sirius.

Yet, he can't stop himself from asking, "Is she ok? Has something happened?"

"She... she was crying."

Regulus even feels Sirius grow alarmed by this information.

Walburga Black has never, not once, cried. Not since Sirius and Regulus have been born. Not even when her brother died. Not even when Sirius left - though he didn't expect her to cry at that.

"She what?" Sirius asks, sounding breathless.

"She was crying." Narcissa turns to face Regulus, dark eyes pouring into his. "She misses you Regulus. I didn't know she was capable of... feelings-" Narcissa's face scrunches up like the word disgusts her "-but she's really depressed. She's been like that ever since you left."

Regulus feels sick. That's it. Sick. Like he's been turned inside out and then outside in again. Wrong, his mind says. This is wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

Wrong.

"Why- why does she care?" He manages to keep the emotion out of his voice.

"You're her son-"

"Sirius is her son just as much as I am. She wasn't crying when she attempted to murder him!" Regulus blurts out, unable to stop himself.

"I know, but you have to understand-"

"No. I don't understand. If she ever cared- truly cared about us, she never would have done the things she did. Never."

"But she does care about you, Regulus," Narcissa says gently. "She loves you."

"Bullshit," Regulus spits.

"I know you love her too, Regulus."

"Of course, I do. I was a child. I was told everything she ever did to us was normal- was right! We were the vulnerable ones! We were the ones who were clueless- who didn't know everything she ever did to us was wrong! How dare you stand there and tell me she loves me. You weren't there... in the library." He pauses, reliving the worst day of his life. "Ok? You. Weren't. There. You didn't have to walk in on her murdering the only brother you have! You didn't have to watch how ruthless she was! You weren't the one to step in front of her! Weren't the one on the other end of her wand! You don't get to tell me she loves me... or even cares for me, because I know it's all bullshit. Want to know how I know?" He inhales sharply, strangling Sirius' hand.

"She didn't stop. When I threw myself in front of Sirius, she didn't fucking stop. If I- If I hadn't followed her, she would have never stopped. She would have kept going and going, pushing and pushing. She admitted to me that she was going to kill him." Regulus feels his bottom lip tremble just at the thought of it. The thought of knowing that if he had obeyed his father that day- if he had stayed at the table, Sirius wouldn't be standing next to him.

"How can you say she loves me and know she is capable of killing her son? What makes us so different? Huh? Because from where I'm standing, we're the same. We've both ended up here." He gestures to the house around him. "Tell her that I don't care what she says, or how many tears she forces out of those horrid eyes of hers- I am never going anywhere near her ever again. She will not so much as hear a word from me, so much as have a glimpse of me. I am not her son. I haven't been since Sirius left."

He stops. He's done now.

A part of him wants to swallow every word he's just said - or possibly yelled, he isn't sure - and erase them from the world. But a bigger part of him is proud, because it's what Sirius would have done, which means it was the right thing to do.

Sirius is still squeezing his hand in reassurance. Narcissa looks- to be honest, the poor girl looks like she's just had an epiphany.

"If you aren't going to speak to her, at least send her a letter." Before either of the boys can argue or say anything else, Narcissa quips, "Merry Christmas."

Crack.

They stare at nothing but the empty air in front of them where Narcissa had just been.

"Sirius, I-" Regulus starts. He stops when Sirius hugs him. Really, properly hugs him. He hasn't hugged him like this since they were kids. Not since Regulus stopped having nightmares about - you guessed it - the famous Walburga Black.

"I love you." It comes out all rushed and airy from Sirius' mouth, tickling Regulus' ear. "You don't have to s-"

"I love you, too," Regulus says just as quickly.

He's struggled with the whole 'I love you' thing for a while now, but after all that... well, it came easily. Ok, maybe not easily, but he knows he wanted to say it. Sirius deserves to hear it, and he... he really does love him.

"Reggie!" James' voice calls from down the hall. Regulus pulls away from Sirius just as James comes into view. "Are you alright? I heard shouting- mum wouldn't let me check on you, but we heard a crack- are you alright?" James rambles.

"I think I'm actually... happy." Regulus smiles to himself.

"Oh," James answers. After a moment of silence, he shakes his head and slaps on a smile. "Well, let's get back to Christmas then."

***

"It's one of the world's unanswered questions."

"I really don't think it is," Remus raises an eyebrow at Sirius.

"It is!" James gasps. "Honestly, Moony, how could you say such a thing?"

"It's the same sort of concept as..." Sirius pouts, thinking, "...us not knowing where we go after we die."

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that," Regulus chucks in, earning a mock-glare from James.

"I would. We'll never truly know the answer to it," Sirius carries on seriously. "Is our invention of surf-sledging muggle or wizard?"

"Does it really matter?" Remus groans, placing a bookmark between the pages of his book, apparently understanding he isn't going to be left alone any time soon.

"Does it matter?" Regulus hears James huff under his breath, as if the question is absurd. He sits up straighter on the couch, where he'd slumped down during this alluding conversation. "Right... We have to look at the facts here. It's based off sledging, which originated from muggles, and it involves no magic. However, it was made by us - wizards."

"So, is it a muggle game or a wizard game?" Sirius asks.

"It's a muggle inspired game created by wizards. So, it's a muggle-oriented game. Us being wizards has nothing to do with the actual game."

"So, it's muggle then?" Sirius grins, leaning back and crossing his arms behind his head.

"It's muggle," James agrees.

"Wow, check us out. We just invented something muggle. How cultured are we?"

"You're idiots. Moronic-" Regulus says.

"Brainless-" Remus adds.

"Idiots."

"Seems Remus finally has someone to rebel against us with," Sirius leans into James, whispering.

"This means war," James whispers back.

"You take Reg, I'll take Moony?" Sirius questions.

James nods curtly, and Sirius nods back. They chant something that Regulus can't quite make out - maybe counting? - before they both jump off the couch and head straight for their assigned targets.

Meaning James is headed straight for Regulus.

He holds his hands up, backing away slowly. James gains on him.

Regulus is backed into a corner of the living room, unsure of what childish activity James is about to force him into.

James cocks his head in Sirius' direction. Regulus thinks he hears him say, "Up?" Sirius nods in response. James turns back to him, a wicked smile on his face.

Oh, shit.

This isn't going to be good-

"James! James Fleamont Potter, put me down!" Regulus shrieks. He's now strewn over James' shoulder, unable to free himself. "What is wrong with you? Put me down- James!"

He struggles and struggles, not noticing the way James is now carrying him out of the room. Regulus desperately glances back at Remus, hoping for the love of Merlin that he'll help him. Only to see Remus stuck in the same predicament as him; chucked over Sirius' shoulder, trying to squirm away, face flushed red.

"James- fuck. What are you- Oh, you're such a child!" Regulus groans, inevitably giving up... until they reach the stairs. "James, no- NO!"

"Yes!" James says manically.

Yes... they begin ascending the stairs...

Halfway up, Regulus stops squirming, knowing it probably won't do him much good. He'd rather not break free and then tumble down the stairs and break his neck. No, doesn't seem like a very Christmassy activity.

Plus, as horrible as it feels to admit it to himself... this is kind of attractive. James... being able to carry him. All the way upstairs. To his bedroom. Chucking him down on the bed.

Then, he goes and ruins it by jumping onto the bed too, and tickling Regulus all over. He giggles, not being able to help it, but feeling completely and utterly mortified.

"Ja-mes," he struggles for air, still giggling.

James does not stop though. So, Regulus rolls them over, sitting on James' legs and pinning his wrists to his sides.

"Stop," he exhales, still smiling though, to his embarrassment. "You're stupid."

"You're lovely," James says quickly. It almost sounds accidental.

Thump.

Regulus goes still.

Thump.

Thump.

No. Stop. Stop it.

...Thump.

There is no way Regulus likes James Potter. Nope. It's physically impossible. It's wrong. He must have a chemical imbalance. Maybe he breathed in too many fumes from Effie's Incendio spells.

Thump.

There it goes again. Regulus' stupid fucking heart, speeding away, and all because James Potter called him "lovely".

"Reggie?" James' voice comes into focus. "You alright?"

"Mmm," Regulus responds, still not quite one-hundred percent present in the world just yet.

"You're sitting on me," James laughs, though it comes out as more of a breath.

"Oh, sorry-" Regulus goes to climb off, only for James' hands to wrap around his wrists and pull him back.

"Stay."

James sits up, suddenly becoming face level with Regulus.

"Stay," he repeats, somehow softer than before.

Regulus can't help himself. He leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss on James' forehead. It's not enough James, so he kissed the bridge of his nose where the frame of his glasses sit. He kisses the tip of his nose, the corners of his mouth where his dimples sit, and then - on the lips. Sweet and soft and familiar.

Like spring.

Like warmth.

Like the sun.

James.

He breaks the kiss, resting the heads together, and closing his eyes.

"Merry Christmas," he whispers.

James doesn't respond, which immediately worries him.

James Potter? Not talking? Something must be wrong. He can never shut up, usually.

"James?" He pulls back, staring into those browny-green eyes, and is face with- Well, he isn't quite sure. Whatever expression is on James' face right now, he's never seen it there before. His eyes are soft, heavy-lidded. His lips are still parted, and after-effect of their previous encounter with Regulus. His cheeks are rosy against his pale face.

"Thank you for my present," James says out of nowhere. "It's really... beautiful. I love it."

Regulus chuckles softly under his breath. "You don't even know what it does yet."

"What it does?" James asks.

"Yeah. I didn't just give you some boring old picture of a tree, James."

"Nope, it has stars too."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Regulus says. "Where is it?"

"On the nightstand."

James reaches back and grabs the cylinder box, before carefully extracting the tapestry from it.

"It really is gorgeous, Reggie."

"There's not a tracker for underage magic on your house, is there?"

"No...?" James responds, sceptically. "Why?"

Regulus pulls out his wand and points it at a random star on the tapestry. "Homenum Revelio Fabula," he mutters.

Words begin to rise around the specific star Regulus chose.

"Woah. What's happening?"

"This is Capella. It's the brightest star in the northern constellation of Auriga. Remember? I told you about it in the summer, and that was when you told me about-"

"The wizard names Aureus who jumped out of the muggle contraption called an airplane into the Atlantic Ocean to fight off the soldiers on the attacking boats."

"Yeah," Regulus smiles at the memory. "So, whenever you say Homenum Revelio Fabula and tap a star, it will tell you what it's called and the story you told me in exchange for me telling you what it's name was."

James stares at the tapestry for a moment longer, before looking up at Regulus and saying nothing. Regulus fumbles with his fingers, suddenly feeling embarrassed.

"If you don't like it, it's fine. I-" He never does finish his sentence. James reaches out, gently stroking Regulus' bottom lip with his thumb.

"I love it," he says. Leaning in, he kisses Regulus again.

"Do you really? You can be honest-"

"Regulus, I am being honest. It's-" James shakes his head, eyes widening. "It's lovely."

Lovely.

Regulus is really growing to like that word. James uses it a lot, usually when describing Regulus. Maybe that's why he likes it so much.

"How long did it take you to make it?"

Regulus feels the blood rush to his cheeks, he looks down at his lap. "Two... weeks."

James tilts his chin up with his hand, forcing him to look at him again. "Thank you."

Regulus just shrugs, unsure what else to say.

Under the tree, he'd had two more presents; one from Sirius, and one from Kreacher. Sirius had given him a flag, one of the only things he had at the Potter's from their childhood. It was the one they used to stick on top of their blanket forts when they were kids. Sirius must have known it was exactly what Regulus needed. Something from home.

Kreacher had sent something he'd left behind. A locket. Something Andromeda had sent to him a couple of Christmases ago, after she ran away. It's silver, and has the Regulus, Sirius, and Andromeda star in - so that they would always be together. Just something to show she still cared, even if she did have to leave them behind too when she escaped.

"I got you a present too," James says. He brushes his nose against Regulus', before rolling away from under him. He walks across his room, hands digging in his draws. He pulls out a small cube-shaped box, not yet wrapped.

"Sorry, it took me longer to make than I expected, so I didn't exactly wrap it."

Regulus cautiously takes the box from James, staring at it. Like it shouldn't be his. Like it was meant for someone else.

"Open it," James rolls on the balls of his feet. 

Regulus takes off the lid of the box.

Inside, he finds a snow globe, about the size of the palm of his hand. He pulls it out, examining it.

Oh, he thinks.

Thumpthumpthump.

In the snow globe stands a tree, almost identical to the one on James' tapestry. However, unlike the tree Regulus gifted James, on one of the branches of this one, there are two boys sitting with their legs dangling, staring up. 

One with black hair, and one with brown hair and glasses.

Every now and then, the one with black hair points upwards, whilst both sets of legs swing in the air. It's a beautiful piece of magic.

"Shake it," James says.

He does. Instead of glitter or snow falling - as per usual in a snow globe - stars fall over them instead.

Regulus opens his mouth- expecting to gasp or say something, but nothing happens. Nothing comes out. He's frozen.

"Do you... like it?" James asks, suddenly sounding nervous.

"James..." Regulus breathes, and he truly thinks that's all he can manage, until he tries again. "It's- wow."

"Oh, good." James sighs with relief, finally sitting down next to Regulus. "I was so worried you'd say I was stupid because stars don't fall like snow- or something like that- I don't-"

"James, you're babbling." Regulus smiles gratefully at him. "Thank you, this is... it's perfect."

***

Eventually, Sirius and Remus finds them both lying on their stomachs on James' bed, marvelling over the constellations on James' new tapestry. James shows them what it does, but doesn't explain the meaning behind the stories that show up, giving Regulus a look that says: It'll be our little secret.

The four of them lie on the bed, James and Sirius tapping all the stars until they've read them all twice over. Remus and Regulus share looks every now and then - mainly ones that are about how James and Sirius are idiots.

"Hey, Reg," Sirius sighs, rolling into Regulus' side. "Can we go talk for a little while?"

Regulus stares at him, confused, but nods and climbs off the bed. Sirius follows after him. Remus and James stay behind. They're saying something about how the tapestry might be a great way for James to get his grades up in Astronomy. 

Sirius leads Regulus to his room, which is immediately obvious as they step inside. There are clothes strewn across the floor, records piled in one corner of the room (next to a well-kept record player), and some half-unpacked boxes in another corner. 

Regulus' nose curls in disgust, but he tries to hide it from Sirius, who looks around his room with something close to pride in his eyes. 

The walls are covered in Gryffindor posters, except for the one behind Sirius' bed, which is filled with pictures. Some move and some don't, but most of them are of the Marauders. There are some up there of a black dog, which Regulus doesn't recognise, so he just supposes Sirius got them from a muggle magazine or something.

Sirius jumps on his bed, landing on his balled-up covers with a loud satisfied groan. 

"What did you want to talk to me about?" Regulus asks, trying to find somewhere to sit that isn't occupied by dirty clothes or any of the rest of Sirius' shit. Eventually, he settles with the end of the king-sized bed, beside Sirius' socked feet.

Sirius sit's up, drawing his legs in and wrapping his arms around them. He leans his chin on his knees and watches his brother.

"What?" Regulus says, feeling uncomfortable.

"I just-" Sirius stops. His face contorts into an emotion familiar to Regulus. One he grew to know over the years. The one that told him Sirius was trying to show he cared, but found it hard, as it meant battling his pride. "I wanted to know if you were alright. How are you?"

Regulus just shrugs. "I'm... fine."

"Regulus," Sirius cocks his head. "You know whenever someone says 'I'm fine', they're usually not fine."

"Well, I am, so your logic is incorrect."

"I meant... How are you feeling about- I don't know how to word it, really- but, you know, about being gay? Are you ok? Got any updates? Have you got a crush yet?" Sirius babbles on.

"I- what- No!" Regulus splutters, worried by the sudden turn this conversation has taken. "I'm fine. I'm doing good. I thought it would be harder to accept than it has been, but it's... yeah, it's been alright." 

He smiles, thinking of James, believe it or not. The absolute last person on earth he ever thought would make him feel better about himself. But, here we are.

"I don't have a crush on anyone either," he says, knowing his cheeks are turning furiously red. "Crushes are for children."

"Fair point," Sirius grunts as he pushes himself forward to sit next to Regulus. His legs dangle over the edge of the bed, not quite reaching the floor. "Just- I know I'm with Mary, and not like a boy or anything- because I'm not- well... you know what I mean. I just wanted you to know that I am here for you. If you ever want to talk to someone about it."

Sirius fumbles with the drawstrings on his trousers, not looking at Regulus once. 

"Thank you, but I'm fine," Regulus assures him. "Really, I'm fine, Sirius."

"Ok. Well, I'm glad you're actually fine when you say you are." Sirius does look up now, a humorous smile on his lips. Then Sirius goes and says the scariest thing Regulus has heard all day - even scarier than when Narcissa popped round for that cheery little visit. "To be honest, I kind of thought you had a crush on James."

Regulus gasps and inhales at the same time, resulting in him choking out a cough.

"What- No. What gave you that idea? Why would you ever say- Sirius..."

Because it's true, his mind sings.

Shut up.

"You've gotten closer to him, plus the present," Sirius shrugs. "Glad I was wrong though. He's mine, alright? Prongs is mine." Sirius points at him and squints his eyes, humour etched in his features.

"Trust me," Regulus begins, "He's all yours."

"BOYS!" Effie's voice booms up the stairs. "DINNER!"

Sirius jumps up, prancing on his tiptoes towards the door. "Dinner," he shrieks with a grin. He chucks the door open, almost slamming right into James on his way out. They jump up and down on the spot for a moment, before parading down the hall at full speed. He listens to their pounding footfalls down the stairs.

Regulus laughs quietly, shaking his head, and stepping out into the hall. He finds Remus slowly making his way from James' room, and down the hall. 

By the time they make it downstairs, James and Sirius are already at their respectable seats at the table, with Monty two seats away from James, leaving a space for Regulus. He sits down in the same seat he has done every other morning, whilst Remus sits beside Sirius on the opposite side of the table.

The table is laden with food: perfectly golden potatoes, fluffy mash, vegetables, bulbous yorkshire puddings, stuffing, cranberry sauce, and about three different types of gravy.  Effie comes through with a gigantic plate of chicken, a plate full of beef, and a third with a turkey sitting on top, floating behind her. She swishes her wand, settling them carefully on the table.

Effie sits at the head of the table, as per usual, and swishes her wand once more. An array of different drinks appear from thin air: wines of red and white, bubbling fruit juices, champagne, butterbeer. Regulus stares at the table before him in awe, feeling like he doesn't deserve any of it. It's all too perfect, and Regulus Black has never been one to feel as if perfection is a thing he deserves.

"Regulus, you're new here. I'm going to assume you've never taken part in preying before a meal, much like Sirius hadn't before his first time here?" Effie speaks kindly, her eyes focused on Regulus.

"No. I haven't," he replies shyly.

"Ahh, that's alright," Monty says, waving his hand in front of him. "Not a lot of families do anymore. We don't prey traditionally."

"It's more of a manifestation," Effie adds.

"We prey to Merlin, and thank him for everything we've been blessed with this year, and for this meal," James says. "Then we prey for what we wish for in the new year, and basically hope we've done enough to deserve it."

"Ok," Regulus hums. He's heard of preying before, but has never actually witnessed it and so has no idea whether he should join in or just wait for them to get it over and done with...

"This is how we do it," Effie explains, holding out her hands. James takes the one closest to him, whilst Sirius does the same on her other side. Remus then takes Sirius' other hand, and reaches over the table to join hands with Monty.

It takes Regulus longer than he'd care to admit to realise that both James and Monty are holding their empty hands out to him. He notices for the first time since knowing him that James' hands are covered in small scars and fresh cuts, most likely from insufferably playing Quidditch.

He gulps, taking James' hand, and then Monty's in his other. James is warm, his skin soft beneath his own. The hand closest to Monty is wrapped around his, but the one closest to James has their finger intertwined.

Looking over the table, he sees that Remus and Sirius have their hands held like that too.

"Now, we all close our eyes, and I'll speak and thank Merlin. At the end we all say 'Amen'. That part's muggle," Effie winks at him.

They all close their eyes, so Regulus follows suit, feeling self-conscious for some reason. Effie begins speaking...

"Thank you, Merlin, for all of the blessings you have gifted us with this year. Thank you for every air-filled day, and for every moment full of laughs, smiles, and joy. Thank you for our gracious meal, and for never allowing us to starve. Thank you for our beautiful son, for guiding him, and keeping him safe and healthy. Thank you for our second son, for guiding him, and keeping him safe and healthy. Thank you for Remus Lupin, for guiding him, and keeping him safe and healthy. Thank you for our third son, for guiding him, keeping him safe and healthy, and for bringing him into our lives..."

James squeezes Regulus' hand, which he'll admit, he really fucking needs after... that.

Thank you for our third son.

It scares him.

These perfect people- this perfect family, they see him as a part of it, as their son. They see him as a part of their perfect family. But he isn't perfect. So, how can this family remain as it is - pure and perfect and bright - if Regulus (broken, haunted, scarred Regulus) is a part of it?

It also fills him with warmth, and love, and a sense of happiness that he's never felt before. It's familiar and comfortable, a common room fire. There's a part of him that is whispering, You do deserve this. Which he feels guilty about.

It scares him.

He's been brought up being told he doesn't deserve this - whatever this is. Being told he will never have this, that it is not something people like him have. So, he accepted it- years ago. The pain of that loss subsided, and he's used to it by now. 

At least, he was.

Now he knows it's something in his reach, something he can have, something someone is offering him... And that scares him.

"...thank you, Merlin. Amen." Effie finishes.

"Amen," they all hum.

He feels as Monty and James both pull their hands away, so he opens his eyes. The light above the table is startlingly brighter than he remembers, so he squints for a second before his eyes adjust.

"Dig in," Effie says in a sing-song voice, grin almost reaching her ears.

It was the best food Regulus had ever eaten in his life. The flavours were comfortably distributed, complimenting each other. It tasted like autumn and filled him with happiness, which he didn't even know was a thing food could do.

Now, he and the boys are in the living room. Remus is splayed out on one of the armchairs, pretty much passed out. James is on his back on the couch, one arm draped over his face, and one hand on his stomach. Every now and then he'll let out a groan. Regulus and Sirius are lying on the carpet, limbs out.

"I think mum killed us," James says from his spot on the couch.

"I have never been so full in my life," Sirius agrees.

"I'm so full I've lost all feeling in my legs," Regulus groans.

"Mmmm," Remus mumbles.

"He lives!" Sirius sits up, leaning back on his hands, legs still out in front of him. "And there I thought you were a victim helpless to recovery."

Remus mumbles again; Regulus thinks he hears him say, "I am."

Regulus hears footsteps growing closer from the other room, but is too tired to move. So, this is what people mean by a food coma.

Monty comes stumbling in, holding his stomach like his son is doing on the sofa.

"Are you a victim too, Monty?" Sirius asks, laughing.

"Yes, I am. Is it strange that I'm happy about that?" He chuckles, sitting down on James' legs, causing him to let out a yelp.

"Dad!" James grunts, sitting up to lean on his elbows. "Ow."

"Oops," Monty says, but does not seem remorseful in any way.

Effie comes in next, seeming much less exhausted than the rest of them. "Anyone want to play charades?" She asks chipperly.

"Yes," Sirius says, as Remus mutters a polite, "No."

"Ok, you can go to bed if you would like to, Sweetheart." Her tone transforms from excited to soft in seconds.

"Thank you," Remus whispers. He goes over to Effie, who kisses him lovingly on the cheek, and then drags himself out of the room.

"Anyone else want to go to bed?" 

Regulus and Monty put their hands up.

"Regulus, deary." James laughs at that, for some reason. "You're welcome to leave." She gives him a warm smile, before turning to her husband. "You cannot. We need an even number."

Monty pouts, but accepts his fate, sinking deeper into the couch.

It takes Regulus another few minutes to find the effort and energy to actually get himself up and to bed. When he does, Effie kisses him on the cheek, wishing him good night.

"Night, Reg," Sirius calls.

"Night, Sirius."

"Reggie," he hears James say from behind him.

"Yeah?" He asks, voice immediately warming towards James.

"Good night." James stares at him intently through his wonky glasses. 

"Good night, James."

Regulus goes straight to the bathroom and cleans his teeth and washes his face. It's a slow process, which has him almost falling asleep on the edge of the bathtub.

He goes back to his room, taking off his clothes and chucking on some green plaid pyjama bottoms and the jumper James let him borrow, that he never returned. Then he climbs into the welcoming sheets of his bed, curling himself up like a cat.

He can smell James.

This whole house smells like James - freshly baked cookies, warm linen, crackling fire. 

He stretches his arms out to the empty side of the bed, immediately flinching away from the cold emptiness of it.

No, he isn't going to go to James tonight.

He doesn't want to have to rely on James to help him sleep. When they go back to school, he'll have to go back to sleeping alone, and that- that is just something he is going to have to deal with. That will be that-

"Reggie?"

"James?"

Regulus' head tilts up. James is standing in the doorway, light spilling into the room, illuminating him like a halo. He's changed into his pyjamas and has messy hair, indicating that he's been lying down for a while.

It's been a couple of hours since Regulus came up to bed, he just... hasn't managed to fall asleep yet. In truth, he never manages to get much sleep when he's alone.

"Can I- is it alright if I come in?"

"Yeah, of course," Regulus says, perhaps a bit too enthusiastically. 

James slowly closes the door, making sure to make no sound. He pads over to the bed, pulling back the covers on his own and sliding inside. His face isn't as bright as usual, and he seems more shut down.

"Are you alright?" Regulus asks.

James leaves a hand-sized gap between them. He can feel James' warm breath tickling his nose, smelling of strong mint.

"Why didn't you come?" James questions out of nowhere.

"What do you mean?" Regulus breaks away from James' stare, knowing exactly what he means.

"You know what I mean," James whispers back.

"I was tired," Regulus responds.

"Ok. Is it alright if I...stay?"

Is James Potter acting shy?

No... He can't be. 

Except, every factor of this situation is saying he is. He's blushing, flustered, and being so adorably cute.

"Yeah," he eventually whispers back.

"I didn't want to bring it up today because, well, it was Christmas, but I've been wondering... are you ok? With whatever happened with Narcissa? I didn't hear everything you said to her, but I did hear some of it, and of course, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to talk about it-"

"I don't," Regulus interrupts quietly. "Not... not tonight."

"Ok, that's fine." James smiles at him in the dark, somehow making it seem lighter.

"Ok."

"Can you swim?" James asks out of nowhere.

"Yeah. Why?"

"Trying to get to know you," James shrugs.

He lifts his hand up to the space between them where Regulus' hand is lying, palm up. James traces the lines indented in the skin there, the light touch of his fingers sending an electric current all the way down Regulus' arm, and torso, and legs. All the way down to the tips of his toes.

"Yes, I can swim." His voice comes out raspy.

"Would you ever swim in the Black Lake? You're always hanging out with the Squid down there."

"I can swim, James. That doesn't mean I'm going to start going swimming in unknown bodies of water that certainly inhabit dark magical creatures." He raises an eyebrow, looking back up at James.

"You complain about the dark creatures in the lake, yet you let me take you to the Forbidden Forest. You know there are Acromantula in there, right?" James smirks.

"What? No- no there's not," Regulus squeaks. 

James chuckles, tracing each of his fingers now.

"Yep, Hagrid told me."

"But what if one of them escapes and gets into Hogwarts and rips someone's head off?"

"Aww- Are you scared, Reggie?" James continues to smirk.

"No," Regulus mutters.

They lay there in silence, James continues to stroke his hand, making him grow more and more tired.

"James," he breathes.

"Yeah?" James leans in closer, resting his forehead against Regulus', their noses touch like a whisper.

"Tell me a story."

James smiles and brushes their noses together closely. "I've been doing some research on Muggle history."

"Why?" Regulus mumbles. He can feel himself drifting... limbs tiring, bones growing heavy, mind numbing.

"So that I can tell you something that's actually true for once."

"Tell me a story, James. A good one," he whispers to the space between them.

James' glasses are pressing into Regulus, but he doesn't mind. The cold metal frame is a reminder that this is real. He is real. He is still breathing, and he is still alive. He is safe. He's with James.

"There was this book on Greek Mythology, it was filled with stories of ancient heroes and Gods. Muggle Gods. Everyone was beautiful on the outside, but on the inside... they were quite interesting."

Regulus almost laughs at the way James says that. Interesting. For James Potter, it sounded judgemental, yet he still managed to make even judgement sound like a compliment.

"There was this one king. I think his name was Midas. He was a kind man, who treated his people generously. One day, a God names Dionysus came to him and rewarded him with a wish for his good nature, which was unlike the nature of most kings." 

"What did he wish for?" Regulus found himself asking.

"He wished that everything he ever touched would turn to gold. At first, it seemed like such a clever idea, but then he touched his food, and he began to starve. He touched his water and he began to wilt. He touched his bed, seat, all of his furniture, and never found comfort - only the solid hard surface of gold every time." James inhales, pausing for a moment. "And then, his daughter came running into his arms one day. He hugged her, and she too was turned to gold."

"Did she die?"

"I don't think so," James frowns. "He asks Dionysus to take it back, he did not want his wish anymore. He called it a curse. The God reasoned with him, and told him to wash in the river Pactolus, then whatever he put in the river afterwards would be reversed just by touch. He touched the river, and the the river sands turned to gold."

"Was his daughter turned back?"

"I think so, they weren't very specific about that part of the story. They focused more on Midas." James yawns slowly. "The moral of the story is that greed will not get you anywhere. It's people that matter more, not gold or riches or status. He loved his daughter, more than he ever loved the gold he wished for. In the end he'd rather be rich in love than actual riches."

"You know as a Slytherin, I am defaulted to say I would choose the gold over any person, but... I don't think that's true," Regulus mumbles, barely holding onto his consciousness at this point.

"Sirius?" James' voice rings in the dark room.

"Yeah," Regulus says eventually.

And my friends.

And maybe even my parents.

And you, James.

"Regulus?" 

"Mmm." Regulus's breathing begins to steady, settling at a gentle pace, his chest feeling heavier by the second.

James doesn't respond, and Regulus thinks maybe he's fallen asleep, until he feels James' lips gently brush his own. "Good night, Reggie."

Good night, James.

***

The rest of the Christmas Holidays fly by, and is mostly filled with Quidditch, surf-sledging (which Regulus is forced into being a part of - he loses), and secret, whispered nights with James. 

A part of him doesn't want to go back to Hogwarts, which is a strange feeling for him, as Hogwarts has always been his escape from reality. He'll miss talking with James every night. Feeling more intimate with him, rather than just his hook-up. 

Which is what he is.

Just someone James can get off with until he's brave enough to come out to the world and get a boyfriend. Someone who will be just as perfect as James, so not Regulus. Never Regulus...

He's always the one left behind.

For now, he has James. That's enough. It might hurt him in the long run, but for now, it's enough. He is enough.