Hey Jude
Mrs Potter was the kindest human being Regulus had ever meet. She would help anyone who asked for her help, and would even give as an extra the warmest motherly smile. Regulus admired her, however, when Mrs Potter and his brother got together on a shopping hall everything would change.
At the start Mrs Potter would always argue with Sirius about who was paying. Later Sirius pretended to be shocked when only his passcode was accepted by the register. After that she always would get mad at Sirius, but then he reminded her that he needed to waste the money his parents had given him so he could finally be independent. It took her time, however, she started to fight less with Sirius about it.
The next thing that always happened would be that Mr Potter and Regulus carried the many shopping bags that Mrs Potter and Sirius had perchance. They would be on only one store what seem like hours. So that would result on him and Mr Potter to wait at the stores entrances for them with their things.
Normally James would go with them, and he would switch between annoying his aunt and Sirius to annoy Regulus and Mr Potter.
“Can’t you just stay put for one second?” Regulus would normally ask him.
“But isn’t that one of the many things you love about me dear Reggie?” he would use a flirty tone while saying this which would make Regulus roll his eyes. James was a flirty person. Every time he talked to his friends or acquaintances he would wink or flirt. There was this one time he even flirted with a teacher, which got him detention for a month and even that didn’t make him stop.
This day James wasn’t there. He gave the excuse that he was too busy studying to go. It was 100% bullshit, he and Sirius definitely had skim going on that weren’t telling anyone. His uncle must have noticed it too, but his aunt was to blinded by her joy of shopping with Sirius to notice.
“Can we go now?” Mr Parker begged his wife when she left the store.
“Just one more store dear.” She kissed his chick and went to the store that wasn’t definitely the last one, while her husband protested.
“I just wanted a normal Friday.” Mr. Potter walked to a bench that was near them and sat on it.
“I think there is no such thing as a “Normal Friday”. Especially with your family Sir.”
“I already told you Regulus, you can just call me Ben. And you are right, James and May always kill me with exhausting…But I wouldn’t trade that exhaustion for the world.” He smiled at Regulus and patted the bench next to him. “Sit here son.”
For Mr. Potter that phrase was casual, he used it a lot, but it still made Regulus heart jump a little with surprise every time. He did try to call him Ben but it aways seemed so strange to him, he had been raised to treat older people he respected by Mr., Mrs. or Ms. And Mr. Potter was probably the person he most respected in this world. He was kind and generous. His soul and spirit were young and vivid and that energy was passed to everyone that was around him. Regulus just respected him too much to treat him that informally.
“Have you been drawing lately?” Mr Potter asked when Regulus sat next to him.
“Yeah… a couple of things… Do you want to see them?”
“That would be a pleasure Regulus.”
Regulus passed him his pocket-sized drawing book. He had many of those with different themes, this one had drawings of places and people Regulus saw and met. He normally tried to capture with his mind the scenario and the characters in it to draw later, sometimes when he was tired or couldn’t get the details right, he would take a photograph of the place.
“You are an artist Regulus. A great one. Are you sure you don’t want to follow arts in your future?”
“I am sir.”
Mr Potter just looked at him like he could read him like an open book and knew that he was lying.
“Darling, can you hold this please?” Mrs Potter appeared behind them which made Mr Potter jump and hide the book from her and Sirius rapidly. That made Regulus smile as it meant a lot to him that Mr Potter had kept his secret so well.
“Yes of course.” He took the bags from his wife. “Me and Regulus were just talking about how Regulus forgot his textbook in his locker when he has this very important homework.” That caught Regulus by surprise but he went along anyways saying yes with his head.
“Right, my chemistry textbook.”
“And we need to get it.”
“Yes, we do.”
“Right now.” Regulus looked at him surprised.
“Oh, then you should go, Regulus can’t miss his homework.” Said Mrs Potter very seriously.
“Of course, lets go Regulus.” Mr Potter started walking fast to his car and Regulus said goodbye before running after him.
“What is it?” Sirius started asking when they disappeared. “With you Potters that none of you can lie?”
“It must be in the genes. I am still waiting for Ben to tell me that he doesn’t like my lasagna. The good thing is that my genes are pure as I am a Potter only by name.”
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In the car he was restless, his leg was bouncing up and down nonstop while Mr. Potter muttered the melody to the Beatles album that was playing. He had completely no idea of what just happened nor why it happened. He just knew Mr. Potter looked happy and serious at the road.
“Mr Potter where are we going?”
“I want to show you something.”
“What?”
“You will see.”
“But where?”
“You are an impatient kid, aren’t you?” he sighted and then turned the music down. “It’s about your art.”
“My art?”
“Yes, your talent. Do you remember the first time I saw one of your drawings.”
Regulus looked away embarrassed. He still remembered when Mr. Potter had caught him staring at his nephew studying every feature of his face and body.
“You looked at my nephew with admiration, but your eyes were telling me another thing. That you were truly seeing him.” He took a turn, parked the car and made no move to get out of the car.
“I knew this boy long ago. He had those same eyes studying the people around him.”
“Look Mr Potter it isn’t what it looks like, I am not in love with your nephew or something.” He rushed in before he could say anything else, this conversation was making him nervous.
“I am not talking about that. I am talking about having something special inside of you, and letting it rot while your soul stops to know how to fly.”
He then got out of the car and Regulus followed him walking in silence thinking of Mr Potters words. He was trying to make sense of the situation but he still didn’t understood why Mr Potter was bringing this all up.
“What do you see?” he stopped in front of a graffitied wall. It was the graffiti of an old man sitting on a bench looking at the people passing by on the street. He had such an melancholiac face, that carried years of experience and sorrow, but still he smiled.
“An old man?”
“Just an old man?”
“No…the eyes…they look like they are suck on a memory of something sad but warm at the same time.”
“Yes…they do.” Mr Potter sat on the bench under the painting.
“This was Mr. Jones. He used to sit on this exact bench every day. He used to sit here and say hello to everyone that passed. If someone was sad, he would talk with them, giving them a life lesson and letting them know that they weren’t alone.” Mr Potter looked at Regulus and smiled. “Sit here son.” Regulus did as he wished and sat beside him, he looked so emerged on his memories, smiling at Regulus knowingly.
“There was this kid that used to go to the old man every day, telling him stories of his adventures, drawing them to him. As he got older his love for drawing grew, but so did his responsibility and need for money. The thing was that he was no longer a kid, his mom and his younger brother needed someone else to work in their house. As time passed, he started to draw less and less each day more, until he stopped. And so, he stopped visiting the old man too.” He breathed in and looked at the sky.
“What happened to the kid?” asked Regulus interested in the story.
“Well, every kid needs their old man at the end of the day. Sometimes it can take a while to understand that, and in others times we lose them before we understand it.”
Regulus looked at the smiling man on the wall again, now truly seeing it as the drawing was. An image could be beautiful if used the right techniques or methods, however, what was truly art to him was the sentiment and the emotions behind every single detail of the picture. The old man seemed to be transmitting something with his features, like he was telling the story of the memory he was seeing in front of him. A story of hope and sorrow, but that seemed to end in a hopeful message. One that told the people who looked at him that they weren’t alone.
“Did the kid from the story paint this wall?” His question was answered with a warm knowing smile, one only Mr Potter was able to give.
“Yes, but don’t tell my nephew that this old men used to graffiti or I will never hear the end to it.”
“I won’t Mr Potter.”
And so now they not only had Regulus secret as a bound connecting them, but also something else. A feeling that they understood each other, better than anyone could.
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The house was a mess and the suitcase was nowhere to be found. James was going crazy with all of this mystery. Yes, solving riddles and finding things was fun, but only when he was actually able to do it.
When Sirius finally messaged him that they were almost arriving home, James tried to clean the house as quickly as he could.
“James, dear, we are here” Aunt Mays voice rang from downstairs.
“Coming.” He answered back before falling on his face because of a lose floor board.
He sat down on the floor and looked confused at the floor. He thought that he knew every single corner of his house, he even knew how many steps it took to go from the kitchen to his room.
He stumbled over to the lose floor board and tried to stir the board out of its place. He putted his hand on the hole to see how deep it was, and that was when his fingers touched something metallic. The suitcase.
“Aunt May give me a second to dress before going downstairs.” He screamed at the top of the stairs before going back and ripping the loose floor boards.
“Oh, you don’t need to honey.” Sirius tried to mimic Aunt Mays voice while laughing.
When he was able to take the suitcase out, he putted everything in its place and ran to his room to hide the suitcase under his bed.