Midnight
As soon as the clock in the common room hits 11:50 Regulus is up and out of the dungeons. Curfew is 11 tonight since there are classes tomorrow, so he’s careful to tiptoe around corners.
He makes it out of the dungeons quickly and without much trouble other than a near run in with a prefect. As in, he fully almost ran head on into them turning a corner too quickly and had to dart behind a dusty tapestry of Salazar to avoid them. He’s been stifling sneezes since that little incident, and as he steps fully out of the shadows of the dungeons he lets out an embarrassingly loud sneeze.
Immediately he spots Mrs. Norris, Filch’s weird psychic cat, crawling in his direction from near the great hall doors. Which is exactly where he needs to get. He’s attempting to execute a sort of stealth attack, flattening himself to the wall behind him and scooting slowly towards her, planning on tossing one of his lesser favored rings across the hall to distract her.
He’s shuffling against the cold wall when she sees him, he can see how her eyes change and she stops in her tracks, body extending, ready to quite literally pounce on Regulus’ helpless figure. She starts to run towards him when he starts getting quite literally strangled by some sort of invisible blanket. It covers his head and he almost chokes on the fabric as it attempts his murder.
Regulus is quite sure he’s being possessed by some sort of something right now. This cannot possibly be worth it. He is not about to die for James bloody Potter and his ridiculous escape plans.
Suddenly there's a voice in his ear, and Regulus’ clenched eyes open slowly. He turns his head slightly, body still flush with the wall, and locks eyes with a very entertained looking James Potter.
“Hi,” James says, stifling laughter in his open palm. Regulus wants to kick him. Regulus kicks him. Swift and hard on his left knee cap, causing James to sputter and bend over, staring at Regulus in wild disbelief. Regulus is the one laughing now, small and muffled through his closed lips. James perks up when he hears it and smiles at Regulus. Weird boy.
“You just kicked me,” he remarks, oddly happy as if he’s just been kissed instead of kicked. Regulus frowns slightly, nodding, “you tried to strangle me.”
James laughs, accidentally too loud as Regulus sees Mrs. Norris, who had genuinely started heading the other direction, turn right back around and sit staring right at them. James shoves his laughing mouth onto Regulus’ shoulder, shuttering against him, far too close for Regulus’ liking.
“Why are you on top of me,” he asks, lightly shoving James with his shoulder. James cocks that sideways smile at him, raising a suggestive eyebrow and asking, “oh, would you prefer to be on top?”
Regulus wishes James had succeeded in murdering him.
“Stop flirting with me, Potter,” he reprimands, turning slightly to be facing James, both of them leaning one shoulder against the wall, “and please back up.” James looks regretful for a second before whispering, “can’t, sorry mate. Not enough room under the cloak.”
Regulus feels his jaw drop and his eyes widen. He suddenly becomes very aware of his surroundings, of that strangling cloth draped over top both him and the warm boy beside him.
“James Potter, did you try to kill me with an invisibility cloak?!” Regulus gawks, whisper-yelling at James as the latter covers his face in a mask of faux innocence.
“I did not try to strangle you, didn’t expect you to be so fucking fiesty alright? I did however, save you with an invisibility cloak,” he states, eyeing Regulus as he opens and closes his mouth in blatant disbelief.
“You- I-” he attempts to form a sentence, “how?” Regulus watches as James smiles, a soft small one, something subtle and gentle. Fond, Regulus’ brain supplies.
“Well, you see, I took the edge of it and kinda just tried to toss it over your head,” James responds, eyes glistening with whatever is lingering in his smile. Regulus hears himself scoff as he petulantly kicks the toes of James’ shoes with his own, nudging him as he says, “I mean how the bloody hell do you, James bloody Potter, have the invisibility cloak?”
“Fleamont,” James says.
“Pardon?” Regulus asks, confusion the only coherent thought in his head.
“My middle name is Fleamont,” he says, a small laugh exiting him as a huff of breath when Regulus’ eyebrows cross as he raises them, “it’s my father. He also happened to give me this cloak.” James beams at Regulus, who can hear the stutters exiting his mouth and can't quite figure out how to make them stop.
Close your mouth, he thinks. Literally just close your mouth.
James Potter has the invisibility cloak. Like The Invisibility Cloak. And he just told Regulus Black? Does he not realize how many people his parents have probably had killed to get that?
“That feels like it should be a secret,” Regulus regards, watching every tilt and twist of James’ smile when he talks. “Well, it is,” James says, “but was I just supposed to stand on the stairs and watch you get mauled to death by Mrs. Norris?”
Regulus hums, pondering the proposition. He responds flatly, “you could have just, like, grabbed her and thrown her or something.”
James laughs, “you would rather have had me toss a bloody cat across the hall than live with the knowledge that I have the invisibility cloak?” He crosses his arms over his broad chest, Regulus notes thankfully that he’s changed. Heather gray hoodie on his torso, strings tied in a small bow at his neck. He’s wearing loose black jeans and a white pair of high top sneakers. He looks very, Regulus tries to think of anything other than boyfriendly. He settles on describing James as cozy in his head.
“Well, I’m not going to thank you for ‘saving my life’,” he makes air quotes with his fingers as he quotes James’ heroic claim, “you shoulda chucked the cat.” Regulus promptly turns on his heel and starts walking, feeling the cloak move against his head as he puts distance between James and him, his calves becoming exposed.
“Come on, aren’t you meant to be showing me the stars?” Regulus tosses the question over his shoulder and is pleased as James quickly starts following him. Once he catches up he reaches up and fixes the cloak over them, shuffling to stand next to Regulus. They have to stand flush together under it so they can be fully covered, and even then James ankles keep slipping out.
They meticulously shuffle past the great hall and creak open the front doors, making a small gap they squeeze through sideways and single file. Once they make it down the front steps through a sequence of intense bickering and a little-too-harsh shoves they discard the cloak. James performs a shrinking charm and places it in his hoodie pocket before turning from his place in front of Regulus to look at him.
Regulus thinks mischief suits James Potter. His eyes glimmer with it, and it glints off his white teeth, making his warm brown skin melt softly into a flushed deep pink. His hands are stuffed into his hoodie pocket. stowed away from the cold November night, and Regulus can see the shapes of him fidgeting with his fingers through the light fabric.
Regulus feels immediately wrapped up in it. All of it. The rush of almost being caught, the blood in his veins hotter with adrenaline as he sneaks out. Those things are amplified by his partner in crime, a bright warm burning boy currently standing a step beneath him breathing rebellion into Regulus’ lungs through a crooked smile. He gestures behind him with a minor twitch of his head, tossing his hood up over his unruly hair and indicating the direction they’re meant to head in now.
“Are we really, actually, genuinely going into the forbidden forest?” Regulus asks, cheeks flushing with the sharp wind and the heat from James’ perfect eyes. He nods excitedly, walking backwards towards the lawn as he says, “it’s safe, I promise.”
Regulus scoffs, but his legs start moving in tandem with James’ long ones in front of him. He replies flatly, “it’s literally forbidden, James. Forbidden. As in dangerous, do not enter.” James just shrugs and pauses his steps until Regulus is by his side, swiveling on his heel to stand shoulder to shoulder with him.
“Trust me, Reg,” he says, swinging his arms like a child, “I know my way around in there.”
He says it so casually, so nonchalant as if he’s not breaking like basically every rule ever simply by stepping near the forest. Regulus looks up from watching his steps to look at James from the side, “Uhm, why’s that? You take all your midnight conquests out here?” he asks, raising an eyebrow and making his eyes do that thing where they expand and shrink rapidly.
“Oh so you think you’re one of my conquests?” James teases, pushing into Regulus’ side lightly making him lean a little over on his left foot, “would you like to be one of my conquests? I’ve never actually had any conquests so if you’d like to be the first-”
“Shut up. I was teasing,” Regulus interrupts him, hyper aware of the warmth spreading on his face despite the bitter chill in the air, “I do not want to be one of your conquests, let alone the first one.” Regulus’ mind contradicts him, playing image after image of James and him in the forest doing, well, forbidden things. He pretends to be entertained by his shoes again.
“Well, the offer stands,” James suggestively remarks, leaning down to put his face directly under Regulus’ downturned one just to wink at him before continuing, “but, no, that’s not what I do in the forest. I just, well, I like to explore, I guess.” He’s smiling when Regulus decides to look at him again, eyes straight ahead as they rapidly approach the tree line.
“Are you absolutely positive I’m not going to die in there?” Regulus asks, wary of the large dark mass of trees looming in front of him. James is literally already halfway past the threshold, leaning against a thick oak looking at Regulus more serious than he’s been all night, promising, “you’ll be okay, just follow me, and if you want to leave we can just go up to your tower. Trust me, though, the stars are worth the risk.”
Regulus does not take risks. Ever.
At least not ever, until now. He takes the hand James extended towards him from his tree, and lets himself be pulled into the addictive mischief that is James Potter’s grip. He doesn’t let go once they're both in the woods, holding Regulus’ hand as he navigates his way in and out of the trees. He takes an absolutely impossible path, twining between gaps of trees and jumping over weird roots at odd angles. It’s a sort of dance he leads Regulus through, careful and slow, constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure Regulus isn't dead or having a literal panic attack.
Regulus is shockingly calm. The hand James has in his grasp is warm, so impossibly warm it's heating up the rest of his body. Like magic. He wonders if it is.
“Did you cast a warming charm?” He asks James as they duck under a particularly prickly branch. James looks at him curiously, pausing and twisting back to look at him before saying, “no, I didn’t.” Regulus just blinks. “Oh,” he mutters, “must be the trees blocking the wind.” James just smiles at him as Regulus rubs his spare hand through his thick curls, watching the path of it as it pulls the curls form his forehead and then descends to rest at the back of his neck.
“Well, I’m glad you’re not cold,” James says, turning back around to lead Regulus through a thick mass of underbrush, his shoelaces catching on twigs and vines as he stumbles through it. James pauses at the end and lets go of his hand so he can tie his shoes up again, leaning against a massive fallen log and watching Regulus’ motions.
James’ hair is extra curly today, and Regulus can tell he must have washed it earlier, its fluffy and enticingly soft looking. His skin is reflecting the pale moonlight, holding the tides in his skin and over his lips. Regulus admittedly gets a little distracted while tying his shoe, and promptly trips over a loose lace as James hoists him back up from the ground.
“Woah,” James breathes out as he catches Regulus at his waist, holding him up as he asks, “you okay?”
Regulus is very much not okay. He is trying so hard to find words, but all he can think about is James' large warm hand covering up almost the entirety of the small of his back. He’s holding almost his entire body weight up right now, with that one singular hand.
Regulus struggles to breathe. He stares up at James, who’s leaning slightly over his back bent figure, eyes intense with concern as he scans Regulus’ body. Regulus pulls a limp hand from his side to rest on James’ shoulder, lingering for just a selfish second before hoisting himself up.
“Yup,” he says, already walking away, “so okay. Great even,” he looks over at James’ still figure, “let’s go shall we?”
James smiles, small and softened by the motion of tension leaving his features, “yes, let’s.” He doesn’t move an inch, and Regulus is thoroughly confused, starting to walk backwards in the direction he was heading.
James laughs a little, “that’s the wrong way, darling.”
Regulus reminds himself James Potter probably calls everyone names like that. He’s heard him calling Sirius “baby” and “lover” one too many times in the great hall. It’s a public place for Merlin’s sake. Regulus reminds himself of this fact very vehemently, trying to shake the permanent blush off his face.
But James Potter is looking at him different, softer, sweeter than he’s ever looked at Sirius when calling him those things. Or maybe Regulus is making that up. Anyway, Regulus doesn’t care. Doesn’t affect him one bit; how James looks at him. Regulus does his best not to linger on it.
He starts stepping back towards James with a stupid look on his face, he can feel the stretch of his jaw from how his mouth hangs open and the tension in his forehead at his raised eyebrows. He does his best to neutralize his features as he simply nods and says, “was just making sure you knew where we were going, is all.”
James laughs, turning around as his shoulders shake and heading the opposite direction, “oh that was a test then?” Regulus nods before he remembers James isn’t looking at him, and mutters a small, “obviously.”
They traipse through a bit more of the forest before James abruptly stops, causing a distracted Regulus to run directly into his broad back.
“Woah there, Reg,” James utters as a huff of breath is knocked from his lungs, “you good?” Of course James, after being fully charged into, would ask Regulus if he’s okay.
Regulus quickly puts distance between them, stepping backwards about a foot. He refuses to look up at James, rather intrigued by the small mushrooms growing by his feet. He can see James shift out of the corner of his eye, turning to face him straight on. He can see his feet, clad in white sneakers and pointed straight at him, one slightly behind the other supporting more of James' weight.
“I’m good, I’m sorry,” Regulus mutters quickly, glancing up only briefly to see James’ amused smirk.
“No need to apologize, you hardly even bumped me,” James says through a smile, motioning his hands up and down his body to display his okay-ness.
Regulus realizes that even with his full body weight, full force, he had hardly even nudged James. James had wobbled a bit, just his torso though, leaning slightly forward over his unmoved legs. Regulus feels very weak all of a sudden, or maybe he just feels like James is very very strong.
James is bigger than him, that’s for sure, he’s got several inches on him and is as broad as a tree. Regulus was only 5’6” last time he checked (third year, he and Evan had been having a debate over who was taller, Evan had had him by half an inch) and hasn't grown a bit since. James must be about 6’ tall, but he doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He never looks down to talk to Regulus, or comment on his height at all. Though Regulus wouldn't mind if he did, he quite likes their size difference. Well, like is a strong word. He’s indifferent.
Regulus responds to James with a sealed smile, just dipping his head back to the mushrooms. James, bold as ever, quite literally reaches out and pushes Regulus’ chin up with his index finger and thumb. He places his index finger under Regulus’ chin, and his thumb right on it, where both sides of his jaw meet at the lowest point of his face. Regulus tries not to choke.
James is so warm, so unbelievably warm. Regulus can feel it spread across his face, under his eyes and over his nose. James is looking at him with a warm smile. Warm, warm, warm.
“Look up, Regulus,” he says, dropping his hand after successfully adjusting Regulus’ point of view, “we’re here.” James steps back a little and Regulus immediately misses the hand on his chin and the already diminishing warmth in his skin.
As soon as his gaze lifts, Regulus feels his jaw drop.
They’re in a small clearing, surrounded on all sides by thick vines they must have passed through when Regulus was staring at the ground. He realizes this means James must have held them open for him and a little bit of the warmth comes back into his cheeks. Inside the walls of vines there are small logs, one of which James is currently sitting on, in a semi circle around a stone waterfall.
The water is crystal clear, shimmering in the moonlight that reaches it through the wide opening above. He can see the stars reflected in the stream, dancing with the water flow and glistening softly on the wet stones. There's thick grass along the ground, and the mushrooms Regulus had been looking at earlier appear to pop up randomly throughout the entire clearing.
The branches of surrounding trees dip in slightly on the outskirts, as if the trees are waving hello. Vines hang from them, too, tangling and drooping down separate from the wall, forming a sort of tied together swing.
“Is that a swing?” is the first thing Regulus says, causing James to look at him with stars in his eyes and the moon in his mouth. Fond, Regulus thinks. James laughs a little, subtle and short but deep in his chest, before standing to walk with Regulus over to the dangling vines. The bottoms of the vines are threaded together, forming a sort of green seat, which seems sturdy enough.
“Go ahead,” James says, motioning for Regulus to get on the swing, “It’s strong, I promise. I’ll push you.” James steps to position himself behind the swing as Regulus precariously hoists himself up onto it. It’s not too high off the ground, but it’s high enough that only the tips of Regulus’ toes touch the ground once he’s fully sitting on it.
“Okay,” he says, more to himself than to James, “seems stable.” James laughs from behind him, closer than Regulus had realized he would be when he’d been scooting back. His laugh tumbles down Regulus' head, rolling over his shoulders and down his chest.
“You ready?” James asks, and Regulus can feel his hands hovering right at the base of Regulus’ back, waiting for permission. Regulus lifts his feet up and gives a curt nod before James’ warm hands connect with his cold back.
James pushes. Hard. Regulus has to hold back a yelp as the swing lifts high off the ground, tugging as it snaps back. He legitimately catches air for a second, his bum lifting at least a couple inches off the seat at its peak before slamming back down as gravity does its job. He turns his head as he descends quickly, locking gleaming eyes with the wide smile on James’ face.
“Again?” James asks, that signature grin painted on his dark skin. Regulus smiles back, real, genuine. He can feel the way the foreign expression tugs at his muscles, unused for so long. His lips open and all his teeth show, he can feel the cold air hit his exposed gums. He can’t even stop himself, wild with the feeling of youth. Something he’s never really felt before; like a kid.
“Yes, please!” Regulus responds, loudly. His voice sounds different even to his own ears. It sounds more like him than he thinks it ever has. It sounds happy. Regulus is sure it’ll pass.
James pushes him up again, almost higher than last time, and continues to push him each time he swings back down. Eventually Regulus knows he’s keeping the momentum going on his own, but James’ hands dont leave his back in each descent, and Regulus never asks him to stop. His hands are there, warm and steady with each of Regulus’ falls, catching him if he slips back too far and heating him up with each short breath of contact.
Regulus is enjoying this far more than he should. He knows this. He knows this is James Potter, the boy who broke his family, the boy who stole his brother. He knows this is quite literally forbidden, being in the forest and being with this boy. He knows he should hate him, he knows he always has. He knows it's cold and he should be shivering, but he also knows he feels warm.
Regulus thinks, just this once, he’ll let himself smile. He’ll stop barricading his laughs within the walls of his lungs and stop caging in his grins. He’ll stop thinking so hard, maybe this once he can just be a 15 year old boy. His parents would never know anyway.
So, as he climbs off the swing, Regulus turns to James with a face splitting grin and unhidden eyes. James looks at him, really looks at him, as he smiles back. James Potter has never hidden, Regulus thinks he owes it to him a little bit to stop too, just for him. Regulus thinks it's just too hard to hide from the sun. Especially when it feels this good to be in the light.
–
James is absolutely ecstatic. Regulus is looking at him, and he means really looking at him. His eyes are somehow softer, something glinting deep within them with the light of youth. His smile reaches his ears, wide and gummy as he shines it right at James. His hands aren’t clenched by his sides as per usual, but are palm open beside the pockets of his pressed pants.
James knew Regulus would love the swing, and tries to lie successfully when Regulus asks, “who put this here?”
It was Sirius. He’d made this spot as a sort of meet up. If anyone got lost during a moon, they’d always end up here before they’d head back to the shack. Sirius had built the swing when Moony had ended up transforming back to Remus at a rather early sunrise. He’d sat him up in it and let him sway as he returned to himself.
“I’m not sure,” James responds, scratching at the back of his neck, “I just found it one day.”
“You regularly just wander the forbidden forest, James?” Regulus asks, smile still wide while accompanied by his signature eyebrow raise. James follows as he turns to sit on one of the logs James’ had collected as chairs.
“Sometimes, yes,” he says, sitting on the log to Regulus’ left. Regulus is picking absentmindedly at the peeling bark on his dark brown log, picking piece by piece off and tossing them on the ground by his feet.
He’s watching James as he does it, smiling. Still smiling.
“Why?” Regulus asks, genuinely curious. His eyes are slightly wider, and he looks almost like a doll in the silver moonlight. His face is pale like porcelain, and his lips are such a soft delicate pink, hanging slightly open around two visible front teeth.
James honestly expected a lecture on the rules and regulations of Hogwarts, and the dangers of the forest. He had to pause and think when the simple question had left Regulus’ perfect mouth. He watched Regulus’ lythe fingers dissect the log, and traced up his thin sweater clad arm to his cold flushed face. He really wants to know.
“I’ve always loved the woods,” James starts, looking through the vines and trees out to the surrounding forest, “I grew up in front of them, much smaller than this of course, but I used to always go in there to play as a kid. There was a family of bunnies I got very close with, and I named every animal I saw. I used to climb the trees and just kind of, look. At all of it. Magic has always felt more real to me in the forest. Even if the trees back home weren't watched over by nymphs and dryads, they still felt magical to me.”
Regulus is nodding along, his smile dancing and twirling at each new detail James adds. He stopped picking at his bark and is now just playing with his too-long sleeves in his lap. He’s watching James intently, waiting for more.
As James pauses, Regulus says, very small, “I grew up by the woods too.”
And James knew that, of course, he’s been living with this boy's older brother for years. He knows that Grimmauld place rests in front of a thick wood, dark and exceptionally dense. Sirius has told him stories of it before, of the scary dark bark of the trees and the way some of them would scratch against his bedroom window at night.
Regulus, unlike his brother, sounds fond of these haunted woods. His eyes flicker as James watches his mind recall it, and his smile softens as he speaks.
“My woods were magical too,” he says, a little louder than his last remark, still speaking more at the ground than James, “not enchanted like this one either. I, uhm,” Regulus pauses and James bumps their knees together, encouraging him to keep talking, “I used to go in there a lot.”
There’s something James did not know. Sirius said he’d never been in those woods, never even poked a finger past the threshold of the trees. Here’s Regulus though, so unlike his brother in so many ways, but clearly just as brave, if not braver.
“I tried to run away once, when I was really little,” Regulus says, beginning his story staring down at the picked-bark covered mushrooms by his feet, “I had snuck out the back door and directly into those woods, I hid in a hole in a massive black tree for what felt like an entire day, but I’m pretty sure was just an hour.”
Regulus is picking at his bark again, this time watching as he does so. James scoots a little closer to him, their knees now touching.
“I was just upset at something they’d done to…” Regulus continues, and James doesn't have to ask to know who he’s talking about, “so I ran, before I learned better. Those woods were oddly warm, and that tree was actually quite comfortable. Magic, so you say.”
“Magic,” James confirms, smiling a soft small closed lip smile at Regulus as he finally lifts his shy face.
They stare at each other through subtle smiles for just a moment, before Regulus rather randomly nods curtly at James and decisively says, “yes.”
James blinks for a moment. “Uhm, to what?” he asks, voice laced with unhidden confusion and eyebrows knitting together on his forehead.
“Yes, to your question. I think we could be friends.”
James can't help the smile that breaks out on his face as he knocks his shoulder with Regulus’, “really?” Regulus simply pushes James’ shoulder away and nods, “really.”
“Do, uhm,” James stutters, face suddenly serious as he looks at Regulus, “do you want to talk to Sirius?”
Regulus’ smile immediately straightens, a small frown taking its place. James hates that his first thought is cute. James watches as Regulus’ hands still, slowly being placed in his lap as his posture noticeably straightens.
“No,” he says, short and forceful. His eyes are guarded again.
“Well, I know you haven’t spoken in a while but he is my best mate and maybe if you two just-”
“No,” Regulus interrupts, voice loud and sharp, “James, no. He can’t know. Nobody can know.”
James feels himself frown, his own hands starting to fidget restlessly in his lap. He responds slowly, “how come you won’t let people see you, Reg? If people knew maybe they could stop, and I’m not saying this to be mean, hating you.”
James is immediately worried he hurt Regulus. James absolutely hates being mean, or even slightly rude. His mother raised him better than that. Regulus doesn't even seem offended though, his face has rapidly cooled into an icy neutrality. Indifferent.
“If you only wanted to be my friend, James, because you felt bad for me, I’d like for you to show me back out of the forest and then politely never speak to or about me again,” Regulus replies through clipped tone, “I’m not some hateful thing for you to fix, or make pretty. If you want to be my friend we do it in secret, or we forget we ever spoke and don’t do it at all.”
“I don’t think I could forget, Regulus,” James says, always far too honest for his own good. That sounded so bloody sappy, he hardly even knows Regulus. Always too much, his brain scolds him, you always feel too much.
“I could,” is Regulus’ response. James is quickly reminded of just why he has the reputation that he does.
James lets himself think, something he admittedly rarely does before speaking. He thinks about the smiling boy hopping off the swing, and the quiet stories that boy told him under the stars. He realizes very quickly he almost doesn’t want anyone else to know.
His plan had been to encourage Regulus to try and make up with Sirius, and then they could all be friends. James knows if he continues this now, and Sirius does eventually find out, he’s most likely going to be dead before he even hits 21. He knows, though, that Regulus Black is all he ever thinks about. His muttered honesty and mysterious eyes. James knows, after about five seconds of pondering, he’d rather keep Regulus all to himself anyway.
That smile, that laugh and those eyes, just his.
“Okay,” he says, finding Regulus’ cold eyes and watching as they soften at his response, “nobody can know. We can meet in the tower, or out here, or I know a few secret places around the castle. Just tell me where you want to go and I’ll go, I promise.”
“No more coming up to me in the great hall, too.” Regulus demands, a light joke lighting up his pupils.
“No more coming up to you in the great hall.” James agrees, offering out his hand for Regulus to shake, “deal?”
“Deal,” Regulus responds, his small cold hand fitting inside of James’ as it blankets around him. They shake up and down twice, the hold lingering just a moment before Regulus slides his hand out of the grasp and sarcastically scowls as he wipes it on his pants as if it was covered in dirt.
James can’t help the laugh that stumbles out of his lips, always helpless amused by Regulus’ affliction to meanness. He knows he doesn't mean it, not to him at least. It’s like Regulus’ way of showing he likes you, though James assumes he means for it to do the opposite.
James starts thinking about showing Regulus all the hidden paths the marauders have found over the years, perhaps taking him to honeydukes late one night and comparing their favorite flavored bertie botts. He wonders if Regulus would want to do that, or if he’s more of a rule following type of person. James knows he’s out here right now, in the quite literally forbidden forest just because James asked him to. James figures he could corrupt him furthermore.
Regulus has been sneaking out to the astronomy tower and kitchens after curfew since his second year, James learns as they trade questions back and forth. So James knows a little sneaking out would never offend Reg.
Did you just call him Reg in your own head? He immediately asks himself before proceeding to ignore that thought to focus on Regulus.
Regulus is currently naming all the constellations and stars in their view, tracing out the shapes for James when he can't quite make it out. James just watches, and listens, as Regulus’ skin glows in the starlight and his smile seems to soften with every star James asks about.
“Alright starboy, what’s that one?” James asks, pointing at a bright star directly above them. Regulus doesn't even protest the nickname, simply smiling and informing James that, “that is Vega, it’s in the Lyra constellation, see, it makes a sort of lopsided square. It’s named after the story of Orpheus receiving a lyre from Apollo.”
James watches intently as Regulus’ pale finger traces a crooked square in the sky, starting with the star James had been pointing out.
“Can we see your star?” James asks, looking back down at Regulus, who continues to stare up at the open sky.
“Not yet, no, and it's technically a star cluster,” Regulus remarks, eyes still tracing shapes in the sky, “you’ll be able to see it around January, it’s mostly visible in late winter and early spring.”
“What does your star mean?” James asks, allowing his gaze to rake over Regulus’ exposed neck, and up over his perfect side profile as he’s distracted by the stars.
“It’s the heart of the lion,” Regulus says as James huffs out a small laugh, “I know. “Regulus’ translates directly though into something else, the little king, or prince.”
James thinks that's awfully fitting, as he scans Regulus’ perfect posture and his thin crossed legs. The little prince, James, thinks, fondly, that makes sense.
“What about Sirius?” James asks, quieter than before, careful of overstepping. Regulus freezes, just for a moment, his eyes closing briefly as he breathes.
“Brightest star in the sky,” he says, very matter of factly, “best visible in late winter and late summer. Part of the dog constellation, means glowing, or scorching.” His body is tense as he recites his knowledge, his hands frozen in his crossed lap.
James hums at this, nodding slightly before quickly picking a new star in the sky to ease the shape of Regulus’ shoulders. They continue like this for a while, until the temperature drops enough that Regulus’ hand starts to shiver as he traces shapes in the stars and James encourages them to head inside.
They make it out of the forest quickly, much more efficient on this trip than their way in, only stumbling once over a particularly large root. Once they’re clear of the woods they brace themselves against the harsh November wind, pushing up the grounds towards the front door. James glances around quickly before removing the cloak from his pocket and returning it to its original size.
“Again?” Regulus scowls as James tosses the cloak carelessly over his curly head, “Potter, I’m sure I can make it back to the dungeons on my own, the cat is probably further up in the castle by now.”
James simply tucks himself under the cloak with Regulus, laughing quietly as he says, “better safe than sorry, Reg, wouldn’t want to risk getting mauled again.”
James can feel Regulus roll his eyes next to him, but he cooperates nonetheless, letting James guide them through a small crack between the doors and down the main hall. Walking down as many steps as it takes to get to the slytherin common room proves to be a rather grueling task, as James has to crouch and let Regulus step down second each time due to their rather intense height difference.
Funny, James thinks, never noticed that before.
“Alright,” he whispers, leaning down into Regulus' hair as they reach the dungeons, “I’ll walk you to your common room, you can slip through at the same time you slip out of the cloak.”
“You think I’m letting you hear the password to the slytherin common room? Are you serious?”
“No, I’m James,” he jokes. Regulus does not laugh. “Okay, fine. I’ll drop you off and then leave, I promise.”
“How will I know you actually left?” Regulus asks as they approach the dead end the slytherin common room resides in.
“I promised,” James responds, lifting up the cloak for Regulus to slip out of.
Regulus just smiles a small smile as he ducks out of the cloak, turning to look James’ invisible form somehow directly in the eyes.
“Tomorrow, if you’d like, we can meet in the tower. I’ll be up there from 11 to Merlin knows when. Goodnight, James.”
James smiles, despite his knowledge Regulus can't see it, “Goodnight, Regulus. Till tomorrow.”
He lingers just a moment as he watches Regulus step up to the inconspicuous wall, he turns around and says, “Goodnight, James. You can go now please.”
James lets himself laugh loudly, watching as it softens Regulus’ features before turning on his heel and making his way back up the stairs.
He lets himself take his time, strolling languidly through the dark empty halls, his mind wandering alongside him. Regulus Black, he thinks, my friend, Regulus Black.
He sneaks back into the dorm room as quiet as he can, tip-toeing through the annoyingly creaky door and shuffling quickly to his bed. As far as he can tell, everyone else seems to be out cold, he can hear Peter’s signature snoring drifting from the bed beside him.
He makes fast work of changing into sleep clothes, and slides under his covers no more than two minutes after he’d entered the room. He closes his curtains with a flick of his wand before setting it down beside him, on the right side of his pillow. He lays flat, one arm across his stomach as it rises and falls with his every breath, and the other limp at his side.
When he’d left the dungeons he’d glanced at the big clock by the great hall, the one he and Regulus met at, and its big intricate hands told him it was 4am. James does not have a habit of staying up past 2, at the latest. He assumes, as he lays and counts the threads in his blanket, it’s likely about 4:15 by now. Merlin, he groans in his mind, and tomorrow is Monday.
He’ll have to wake up in about three and a half hours to get Sirius up in time for McGonagall's class. He’s not even tired. His blood feels like it’s pumping faster, the way it does after a great prank or a successful moon. The way it feels when he breaks the rules. Which he did tonight. More than just sneaking out to the forest, he took little Regulus Black with him.
Regulus Black is much more forbidden than that magic forest. James has always had a sweet tooth for forbidden fruit.