Chapter 21
“Here,” James handed Regulus a plate full of breakfast. Bacon, fried eggs, hash browns, lightly toasted toast, two sausages. “Mum wasn’t sure if you liked pudding or not. I personally detest it, and said you do too, so… if you do like it, I’m sorry.”
“Hate it,” Regulus agreed, sitting down across from James. The main dining room, which had a long, old table, probably for dinner parties, seemed extravagant for breakfast. But Regulus was used to this sort of stuff. His house was just as ridiculous as James’. He supposed being away for university had opened his eyes to smaller ways of life, though.
Monty sat at one head of the table, Effy at the other, both of them reading different papers. “I see Francis is in the paper, again,” Monty murmured, lifting his teacup to his lips. Regulus began to butter his toast.
“For being a prick, I assume!” Effy snapped, making Regulus almost snort a surprised laugh. James didn’t say anything as his parents began a detailed conversation about the man Monty had found in the paper. Regulus began eating, curious as to what the day's plan was. James was in sweatpants and a t-shirt, so Regulus had worn the same outfit to the breakfast table. But Effy and Monty were dressed to go out.
“Well, it’s not surprising from him,” Monty said, shortly, the conversation closing on Francis. Regulus hadn’t listened to a word of it. “Plan for the days, boys?”
“Films,” James shrugged. “We’ll head out on Monday, but until then, Regulus needs an education.”
“The film student response to things,” Effy dismissed, cutting an egg in half. “We’re going to Chrissy’s today, so you might have to sort yourselves for dinner. You know how she can be. We may not be home till the morning.”
“Well, tell them I pass on regards,” James nodded. He didn’t seem phased by his parents being away for the day. Regulus would be thankful if he arrived home just for his parents to immediately leave the next day. But he figured James would have a bigger reaction, considering how close he was with the pair.
Effy nodded, sighing to herself. “I’ll have to call Lucy on the way. Monty, have you called Dick recently?”
They were off talking again, James seeming to zone out as he finished his breakfast. Regulus followed suit, drinking his coffee too. It tasted sweet, just like he got in coffee shops, but it was homemade. Eventually, Effy stood up, beaming at them both. “Right, we’re going to go. James, you can clean this up. There are pizzas in the freezer and tons in the fridge. I need you to make sure you keep the living room tidy and feed the fish if you remember. And don’t bore Regulus!” She pointed at him now. “Regulus, if James bores you, feel free to ignore him! You might feel rude because it’s his house, but don’t! He can be a terrible bother after a few hours!”
Regulus blinked a few times before realising she was teasing, a playful smirk on her face. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he promised. She grinned at him.
She dropped a kiss on James’ head, and then Regulus’, gliding out of the room. Monty eventually shut his paper, nodding at them both. “You heard your mother, James! Remember, there’s beer in the fridge, and whiskey in the cellar, but we’re keeping the good stuff for Christmas! If I come back and you’ve broken into the Irish stuff, there might be trouble!”
James grinned at his father. “We’ll behave, we promise.”
Monty nodded at them both, grinning as he left, following the path his wife had taken. Regulus yawned into his hand as he went. They’d made it through the entire trilogy of Back to the Future, taking a break before the last one to tidy up the main hall before returning to the couches, almost dozing through the western. It was very late when they departed for bed, and as Regulus heard the front door open and close, he realised that their breakfast was more of a lunch.
“Chrissy is a cousin, I think. Lives near Manchester so they’ll spend the night up there,” James informed him. Their plates were both empty, now, and Regulus was finishing his coffee. “They’ll bring home something ridiculous Chrissy has made, too. Last year, she started making badges, but the year before it was sock monkeys.”
“Creative,” Regulus mused. “How come you didn’t go?”
“God, I haven’t gone since I was 16. She’s got these awful kids, I hate them!” James read the look of amusement on Regulus’ face and shook his head. “No, honestly. They’re tragic! Last time I was there, they called me a glasses-wearing-dick.. They were only about 8! I don’t want to see them again!”
“Well, of course, they’re menaces!” Regulus teased.
“I suppose you like kids, then?”
“I tolerate them,” Regulus shrugged. “This coffee is nice…”
“I got mum to buy the syrup you like,” James shrugged casually.
“Did you actually?” Regulus questioned, staring at the empty cup. “That’s very nice of you.”
“I’m lovely,” James shrugged, smiling. “I have to wrap presents today. Will you give me a hand?”
“I might,” Regulus shrugged back. An hour later, he was holding tape, sat on the floor of James’ room while James carefully wrapped a cookbook for his father. “How many things did you get them?”
They were only halfway through the pile of gifts he’d bought his parents. The cookbook went with a wooden spoon that had Paul McCartney’s face burnt into it, but he’d also bought him three pairs of socks with insects on them, a shock pen, a box of chocolates, a framed picture of them together, and a new mug. He’d bought his mother a set of new pens, along with a new daily planner for the upcoming year, a matching pair of butterfly socks to match Monty’s, a new posh candle, a grey scarf, a picture of them together, and a new mug. It seemed a bit excessive to Regulus, but James simply grinned. “They deserve more.”
Regulus had his bag of presents for the elder Potters beside him, so he awkwardly slid his hand in, withdrawing the apron he’d bought for Effy. “I only got your mum this.”
James looked up from the piece of wrapping paper he’d just stuck down and gasped. “Oh God, she’ll love that!” He reached forward, taking it to look over. “She’ll be annoyed you felt the need to get her anything, but she’ll adore it!” There were small flowers embroidered around the end, and her initials by the neck looked delicate beside the red straps. “You really didn’t need to get her anything.”
“I got your dad something, too,” Regulus pulled out a knitted grey scarf. It was chunky, the wool looking nice, in contrast to the cloth one James had bought his mother. He reached out, running his hand down the length of the scarf, shaking his head as he grinned at Regulus.
“You’re something else, Reggie.”
“In a good way?” Regulus questioned.
“The best way,” James assured him. “Here, cut more tape and we’ll wrap them.”
James had bought gift tags too, which meant they spent quite some time signing their names on the small Santa hat pieces of card and taping them down. Regulus’ back hurt afterwards, as they finally stood up, James collecting most of the presents off the floor. Regulus grabbed the rest, helping James load them onto his newly cleared desk.
“Do you want to feed the fish?” James asked, whirling around to face his friend. Regulus nodded quickly, unsure what else to do. “Get your jumper on, then.”
James led the way out of his house, using a backdoor Regulus would have never been able to locate himself. He really needed a tour of the place, but he felt awkward asking for that. Instead, he slowly stumbled onto the grass after James, his vans loosely tied. He hadn’t really put his shoes on properly.
The Potter grounds were huge, and he followed James for a few minutes until they reached a small pond. James had retrieved the fish food from the utility room before they left the house. Regulus peaked over the side of the pebbles that were surrounding it, creating a small barrier. There were small plants growing up from the bottom of the pond, and if he squinted, he could see the few fish swimming around. James struggled with the cap of the fish food for a moment before tipping some into the water. They both silently watched as the few small fish swam up to meet the floating food.
“Do you think they get cold?” Regulus asked, making James laugh quietly.
“Yes, I’m thinking of knitting them some jumpers for the January cold spike.”
They headed back inside after James had tipped a bit more food into the pond, both of them silently agreeing it was too cold to stay outside. The house was much warmer, but James still suggested he light a fire in the living room while tasking Regulus with loading the dishwasher using the breakfast plates.
Regulus did as told, waiting until James had slipped out of the kitchen to finally pull open the dishwasher, slowly stacking the used plates into it along with the mugs. He ended up making his way back to the living room where James was just finished lighting the fire, stepping back. “I think I did that correctly.”
“It certainly looks on fire,” Regulus shrugged, falling back onto the couch, the spot he’d had the night before seeming fitting. He kicked his shoes off, relaxing slightly as James fell onto the couch beside him.
“Well, I suppose you’re right,” he nodded. “Film?”
“Suppose,” Regulus nodded back.
James put on Ferris Bueller’s Day off, and after that Stand By Me. It was easy to lapse into a comfortable silence, with only occasional interruptions when one of them thought of something important to say. Most of Regulus’ commentary was questions to do with the film, and what James liked about it, while James spewed occasional fun facts, and decided to reenact the entire Twist and Shout scene for Regulus, who laughed his way through it.
By late afternoon, they had made their way to the kitchen to make their dinner, which James had decided would be pasta. The pizza was apparently depressing. Regulus made himself at home by sitting on the counter, as James instructed. “You can’t help with this, it’s a secret recipe.”
“A secret recipe that you want me to watch you make?” Regulus questioned, swinging his legs. James shrugged, wandering towards the large fridge in the corner. “Your logic is flawless.”
“Like me,” he shrugged again, pulling open the door. Regulus watched as he grabbed an assortment of ingredients before he tottered back towards the counter, dropping the items beside Regulus before moving to take out the items he needed to cook. He almost seemed professional as he pulled out a chopping board, a saucepan, a wooden spoon, a large knife and a frying pan. Regulus continued to swing his legs. “Okay, this is the best meal I make.”
“Pasta?”
“The Potter Pasta Special! First made when I was home alone, age 14, and spiced up every year since!” He dropped balls of the fresh tagliatelle into the saucepan, filling it up with water before placing it on top of the Aga. Regulus watched his movements as he began slicing bacon and tomatoes. “I’m a man of limited skills.”
“Football, pasta, Twist and Shout dance,” Regulus listed.
“You know me so well,” James teased, not looking up from the chopping board.
“I’ve known you a while,” he shrugged.
“You have,” James agreed.
Regulus debated it for a few seconds before taking a deep breath. “So, have you talked to Lily recently?”
The question hung in the air between them for a few moments, James’ knife hovering over the half-cut tomato on the board. Regulus wondered if he’d ignore it, but James took an equally deep breath, looking at the wall in front of him as he continued chopping. “No, not really.”
“Oh,” was all Regulus could muster over the confession.
James slid all his cuttings into the frying pan, using the wooden spoon to awkwardly push the pieces around. Regulus, in the silence of the kitchen, tapped the side of his leg, trying to find something to think about other than the possibility he was the reason James wasn’t talking to his girlfriend. Although he’d thought about the scenario a thousand times before, it still knocked the air out of him when James spoke his next words.
“We actually broke up.”
Regulus said nothing, looking at James. James didn’t look back at him, instead of staring at his cooking. His expression was seemingly blank as he watched the bacon brown, occasionally stirring the pasta. “You broke up,” he sounded strange, his voice almost shaky for some reason.
James nodded, reaching for the tomato pasta sauce. Regulus watched him crack open the jar, dropping the lid beside him. “It was for the best,” he announced.
“I thought you liked her,” his voice was quiet.
“I did,” James shrugged. “But you know… Well, it wasn’t going well, was it? You asked me months ago how it was going, and I was unsure then… We probably should have broken up ages ago.”
“Are you okay?” Regulus asked after a few seconds.
James stirred the pasta sauce, watching the bacon mix in with the seasoning he’d sprinkled in. “I’m okay.”
Regulus ended up excusing himself, hopping off the counter to stumble down the hall to the bathroom. His eyes looked bloodshot and red-rimmed, and his face looked paler than usual as he stared at himself in the bathroom mirror. He felt ill. He could be sick. His feelings. His stupid, fucked up feelings… They’d put him here. They’d gotten him to James Potter’s downstairs bathroom, stood in front of the mirror, hands shaking as he stared at himself. He had fucked up a perfectly good relationship just by knowing James.
He stared at himself for a good few seconds, his eyes studying every aspect of his face. Where Lily had soft features, he had hard ones. His jaw was too angular, his cheekbones almost too prominent. Where Lily had wide eyes that always looked curious, Regulus had smaller ones that arose suspicion. His lips always seemed pressed in a hard line in comparison to the easy smile often found on Lily’s lips. Where Lily glowed, her red hair shining, and her sunny personality ringing through, Regulus simply didn’t. He was dark and brooding, and miserable, and nothing like Lily Evans, the perfect girl for James Potter.
It hurt him to think about, but he was right.
He ran his hand under the cold tap for a moment, wiping it down his face in an attempt to calm down. He felt like he could have a panic attack. He’d essentially ruined their relationship. He bet if Sirius had have kept his mouth shut, James and Lily would still be together. His friend wouldn’t be blankly staring into a frying pan of pasta sauce in order to cope with the loss of his perfect girl. He’d well and truly fucked it up.
He should make an excuse. He really should. He should make an excuse, and leave. He should spend Christmas back in his flat, away from everyone, most importantly James. James deserved better than a friend like him.
But James was knocking on the bathroom door. “Reggie, are you sick?”
“No,” he called back, coughing to hide his croaky voice. He opened the door, quickly, watching James step back slightly. “Sorry. I had a phone thing.” He awkwardly held up his phone, which he’d pulled from his pocket.
James nodded, turning around to go back to the kitchen. “Well, dinner’s ready.”
“Great,” Regulus nodded, and selfishly knew he wouldn’t leave the Potters house. Not now, anyway. He couldn’t bear to be away from the boy who slapped his knees to create a drumroll, before twirling next to the kitchen table.
“Potter Pasta Special is now available!” James cheered, and all worries Regulus had melted away. He was with his drop of sunshine.