Fate

“You know, I’m actually concerned why McGonagall only gave Prongs a detention and not you as well, Padfoot. Knight to E4.” Peter mumbled, taking out one of Sirius’ chess pawns. James was draped on top of Sirius in the common room with Sirius playing Wizards chess with Peter whilst Remus was in the library probably stuffing himself with books. “Ugh, Pete, come on, you know I’m shit at this game as it is. Lay it down, show off.” He half-joked with a light hearted chuckle from Peter. James was fiddling with one of the snitches he stole back when they were in the Second Year. 

“It’s because she wants some alone time with me and my dashing looks, we’re a match, me and her.” James joked, cleaning his glasses. “Well that sucks, she would have an adventure with me, she is gonna bore to death with you, Prongs.” Sirius winks at James giving him and Peter some chocolate frogs. 

“In your dreams, mate.” James started messing up Sirius’ hair but his wrist got caught by Sirius’ hand. “Don’t you dare, Prongs.” He gave James a warning look, holding a stare for a few seconds before going into a tickle attack. He knew that was Prongs’ weakness. Giggles and laughs erupted throughout the common room. “Ah, n-no haha! P- ete help o-out!” They were all laughing from the state of James. After minutes of swishing about on the sofa, they got pushed out of the comfy-ness and crashed onto the floor with Prongs still trying to get away from Padfoot. The pair got up and calmed down from the tickle attack. 

The sofa was now half full from Lily Evans who seemingly was the one who shoved them down onto the carpet. “Hey sorry I didn’t see you there, I was too busy falling for you.'' James shot her with one of his jaw-dropping grins that works every time with his hand latched into his messy hair. She was too busy induced in her muggle magazine to show James any sign that she acknowledged him. “Okay Prongs, we have to work on your pickup skills, that was pathetic.” Sirius whispered, snickering with Wormtail in the background. James really wanted them to piss off, but he won’t say that out loud. 

“You should listen to Sirius once in a while, you know. But you do amuse me with your silly little lines you think charms a woman.” Lily uttered, changing the page in her magazine. 

“Oh but they do charm women, just not you for some reason. I know, you just pretend to be annoyed by me, don’t worry about it Lils, you can admit I’m fit, I won’t tell.” He winked at her and she replied with a groan and walked off somewhere else.

“You do have a way with words don’t you, Prongs?” Sirius said, going back to play Wizard's Chess with Wormtail.  “Yeah whatever, I have to go and charm McGonagall now, see you later. Say hi to Moony for me!” he waved them all as he left the Gryffindor common room. 

“Come on Professor?! Cleaning all the trophies without magic? Bear in mind that there’s about a trillion trophies in that ol’ dusty room. Absolutely barbaric if you ask me.” James complained to McGonagall, resting his legs up on the desk. She towered over him (he was sitting on a chair), lowering herself to his eyesight. “It suits your punishment, Mr Potter. Unless you want a much more severe discipline for casting the jinx, Flipendo, knocking Mr Snape on his head from a far distance, which would have resulted in an extreme concussion without Professor Pomfrey's healing skills.”

“But-”

“I’m not done, Potter. Don’t speak over me.” James muttered a Sorry under his breath. “Also, locking his legs together with a curse! This has got to stop, Potter.” She scolded, flicking him softly with a roll of parchment in her hand. 

He gave his favourite teacher a heartily smile. “I think I will stick to cleaning old, ancient trophies, thank you, Miss.” McGonagall let out a loud sigh and slowly walked back to her desk, looking at her watch thoughtfully. 

“Excuse me, Professor, but are we expecting anyone else? Or can I just go and do my detention now?” he asked, removing his feet from his desk, his patience already flying out the window. As if on time, he could hear footsteps echoing in the corridors getting louder with each step. They both turned their heads towards the grand door.

“Well, Potter, you have your answer.” James nodded in reply. “You’re thirteen minutes late, come in and sit.” The student was a Slytherin, great. Even more unbearable. Having to do a detention with a Slytherin. What else could be worse than this?! 

From a quick glance at the Slytherin, James thought he looked quite similar, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. The unrecognisable student let out an annoyed face at James (probably because he was a Gryffindor, house rivalries and all). “Sorry I was late, Professor. I didn’t realise Quidditch practice took longer than I thought.” The boy went to sit down on a desk furthest from James, with his eyes glued to his desk. “Detention is more important than Quidditch. I’d expect you to be here on time in the future, Mr Black.” McGonagall chided.

Wait, Black?! Did she say Black?! Suddenly, all the bells rang in James’ brain. Oh shit! Padfoot’s little brother!? Why didn’t I recognize him before?! “Something the matter, Potter?” Professor McGonagall questioned. 

Without realising, he realised the emotions his mind was going through were showing on his face. “Oh not at all, why would something be the matter? I’m in the presence of my favourite teacher after all.” James grinning from ear to ear, palm slotted underneath his chin. He could see in his peripheral vision that Regulus rolled his eyes and heard him let out an exasperated sigh with a bored expression painted over his face. 

“Okay, boys, you both have been here too many times, you know the drill now. An hour’s worth of cleaning the trophies and I’ll collect in your wands, they’ll appear by the door when you have finished your duties and then you may return to your respected dormitories.” She held out a hand to collect the wizards’ wands. 

While he and the Slytherin were getting escorted to the trophy room, James started to think about the Black family.

The last time James saw Regulus and really paid attention was when he rescued Sirius’ from the dreadful household with his brutal abominations that Sirius used to call ‘parent’s’. James was absolutely furious out of his mind when he learned what Sirius went through every time he went back to Grimmauld Place, to those merciless, disgusting people. The first time Sirius spoke about it in detail to James, if looks could kill, then Walburga and Orion Black would drop dead, but unfortunately, that’s not how the world works. 

He didn’t really know how to feel about Regulus. Most of the time, he blames Regulus for not doing anything to help Sirius with their awful parents, just standing there looking helpless whilst Sirius is in excruciating pain. But, he takes a breath, calming himself from getting so worked up over his best mate, and thinks about other gaps in the storyline of Walburga’s horrid parenting. Sirius may have been protecting Regulus, or he told his brother to get away, or Regulus had already been too hurt to do anything, or- Well, I guess you had to be there for the majority of the brothers’ childhoods to understand every inhuman thing that happened in the terrifying household. There were too many thoughts descending in his brain. He needed to slow down.

What if Regulus had got treated the way Sirius did-

 No, no. We are not going down that road. Not again. 

But what if he needs help?

He doesn’t. He didn’t want our help last time so why should he need it now?

Maybe he’s just too shy or something.

No, if he wanted help, he would’ve said so.

Ugh, you’re so annoying sometimes!

The last time he and Regulus spoke was three years ago, when the younger boy had only been in his second year and James had been in the year above; it was an overstatement that the Slytherin had changed. The marauders were now in their sixth year, with Regulus in the one below- his looks had changed drastically, he looked more formal and grown up. His eyes had once been innocently wide blue eyes with clouds of grey scattered around his iris which are now sharp and penetrating with grey storms which looked like they could tell dozens of stories. James saw that his hair was darker than the feathers of a raven, falling over his eyebrows in waves; it was much shorter than Sirius’ hair, little curls reaching down to his pale neck. Regulus was fifteen now, his jaw had become sharper and more defined and his shoulders had gotten much wider now, with still a slim waist. 

James shook himself out of his very strange thoughts about his best friend’s brother who he had not spoken to for three years and searched his surroundings.

McGonagall was opening the door to the trophy room with the two teenagers following her. The room smelt of dust and metal, like it hadn’t been touched in over a decade. 

“You are expected to complete this detention for your punishment, without magic, and don’t try to escape, yes, I’m talking about you, Potter. The door will be self locked until your time is up.” She left them alone, with the sound of the door shutting behind the Professor.

The two teenagers both stood in awkward silence for quite a few seconds before Regulus just couldn’t be bothered with James’ antics and got out the necessary cleaning equipment needed for the trophies. James was taming his hair, stumbling around the place, getting the cleaning tools from the cupboard. “Well- uh, I guess we should get to it then.” James said, but Regulus was either not paying him any attention, or just simply ignoring him, or both. Yeah, it was probably both. 

After twenty agonising minutes of silence with only the noise of the trophies and their own footsteps to fill up the echoey room , James couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t grasp the concept of how people sit in silence for so long. “So,” James pipes up, looking anywhere but Regulus, “how’s you? Haven’t- uh, seen you in a long time.” he said whilst cleaning the trophies, hoping that would make the awkwardness of the situation dissipate somehow. 

“Potter, we have no reason to converse with one another, and quite frankly, I don’t want to.” The younger boy declared. 

“Come on Reggie, it’s been, what, three years since I’ve seen you!” James commented, moving onto the next row of trophies.

“Wonder why that is, and don’t call me that.” Regulus glared at James, in no mood to chat. As much as James was a chatterbox, he couldn’t fathom any words to say, he looked to Regulus for a second before glueing his eyes to the trophy set again. The younger busied himself with the task at hand, looking desperately at the clock seeing there’s at least another half an hour left of this agonising torture, and truthfully, he’d rather be with a group of snobby Slytherin’s than Potter, no matter how annoying they are. He just couldn’t handle Potter’s nonsense and engage in uncomfortable conversations without his mind spiralling into troublesome thoughts- to be genuine, it has always been Potter, always. How could he not? 

Since Sirius told Regulus when he was 10 years old about the brilliant James Potter, he was hooked. When that admiration quickly faltered into forced hatred from housemates who despised James, how his perception became warped and then it got worse. He pushed and pushed the admiration away, but like James the arrogant prick could defy the stars itself, he came flooding back in his brain in the worst way. Like an infatuation. He was infatuated with the being that is James Potter. 

Because Regulus loved James. He loved James so much he could barely find the strength to get up every morning and know that he would never have him the way he wanted. How he’d give up everything he has, money, power, family, anything, to have him. It’s not so simple, boys loving boys. Not something he could tell a friend like they would brush it over as not a big deal. He couldn’t sit and gush, couldn’t wave in hallways and blush at him shyly. 

If James was a girl, even that would be an issue. He’s a Gryffindor, pathetic and childish, as his mother would say, she would sneer and call him a blood traitor as well. But he’s a boy, a boy like Regulus. He tortures himself for that desirability, sodomy, as his parents would call it. 

What 16 year old should soak himself in bleach to cleanse himself when a thought of dark desire would arise? No one shouldn’t. Regulus did, did past tense, because after his skin ached and burned for weeks James was still scorched into his mind and all over him. 

After scrubbing the last trophy clean, James’ eyes drifted towards the clock, noticing there was only ten minutes left of his detention and he had managed to go through his majority of the trophies. His eyes drifted towards Regulus, his hands working through the last few awards. James’ pushed himself up on the wooden desk, just watching Regulus, if he notices James’ curious eyes, he doesn’t mention it. 

Regulus puts the rest of the cleaning supplies back in the cupboard, leaving the boys in awkward silence, much to James’ horror. Regulus tries to avoid James’ eye of vision as much as possible, but the beady eyes latched to the other boy’s head feels like he’s staring right into Regulus’ soul, ripping off the barriers and seeing right through him.

“Can you stop?” he says, giving James a stone cold expression. 

“Stop what?” James asks, oblivious to the question. 

“Staring. It’s creepy.” James just gawks at him even harder, if that’s possible. Regulus lets out an irritation sigh and tilts his head back so it leans against the wall with his pale neck in view. 

“So,” James pipes up, letting his hair roam in his dishevelled hair, “What’d you do to get detention?” 

There’s no response, but that’s never stopped James before. 

“I got caught teaching Snivellous a lesson, it was quite funny haha,” James snickered, remembering earlier on in the day. “Well, I guess you had to be there.” James rambled on, doing his best to pretend the other’s disengagement isn’t affecting him. “He kept tripping up and everything, that has got to be one of my favourite spells.”

They both heard the door unlock, and before he knew it, Regulus was bolting out like he was physically dying from being in a small space with the Gryffindor. James strolled out the trophy room picking up his wand by the side and made a care-free wander back to his common room, he looked for Regulus in the timeworn corridors but he was nowhere to be found.