Consequences

Sirius- September 

Sirius was an idiot, perhaps in every sense of the word. 

Though, it likely would depend on who you asked. James would argue that Sirius was brilliant, a force to be reckoned with. Of course he would say that though, close as they were, James was basically his brother.

Peter would likely protest- defend his friend quite pathetically with hushed remarks and muffled jeers- meagre but loyal.

Remus. Well Remus would likely agree- jokingly of course- with a hint of harsh sincerity hidden in his words.

It would sting. He always wondered why it stung, to be seen in such a way. 

He had never cared before. Never cared what people thought of him. 

If they hated him, adored him or feigned indifference- he would not care.

He still did not care. Except when it was a Marauder. 

No.

Except when it was Remus. 

Though, it was not Sirius’ job to translate those feelings into statements, and well, maybe he did not want to. 

Sirius felt a fool today regardless- his actions as of current forced him to admit that-

“I’m a fucking idiot”

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself Pads”, James comforted, patting his back

“I could’ve at least put it a bit more gently”, he said, moping, as he sunk his head into his hands and groaned.

Remus peaked his head around his shoulder, ahead of them in the hallway by a couple steps, “To be fair Padfoot, what you said to her might merit a Nobel prize in stupidity”, he added. 

“Not helping Moony”, James whined- not taking his hand from Sirius’ back.

“What even is a No-vel prize?”, Peter asked, popping his head up- which was previously burrowed in homework- a herbology assignment due in 2 hours. Peter was as much as a procrastinator as himself- though one wouldn't necessarily expect it. 

“It’s a muggle-thing wormy”, Remus answers.

“Of course it is”, Sirius sulked, releasing his hands to hang his head in shame, watching his feet tardily graze the floor in sluggish steps. 

“Hurry up Sirius History of Magic is in like”, James looked at his bare wrist, “Like- now”

“Okay”, Sirius deflated, picking up his pace, “You don’t have to chaperone me James, spend your free practising quidditch or something”.

“And abandon a mopey Sirius? Not in a million years”

Silence

“You need to apologise to her Pads”, Remus interjected.

“What am I supposed to say Moony?”, he snapped,  “Oh sorry Mary- I may have broken your heart and stuff without a valid reason. I just didn’t like you all that much”, he sneered. 

Remus sighed, "Well when you put it like that-”

“Exactly”, Sirius exclaimed, “I’m not coming out of this without looking like an utter prat. Merlin knows I tried”

James released his hand from the continuous pat, taking a tired breath, “Seriously.”, it was almost intimidating when James got like this.

“No I’m Siri-”

“No Pads, shut it”- he interrupted, “If you want her to forgive you, you need to talk to her like she’s a person, not just a girl”

“But James she is just a-”

“Sirius, stop with the sexism, we’re not in the dark-ages anymore”, James lectured.

“It’s not attractive," Remus added.

“Why would you care if I’m attractive or not Moony?", Sirius taunted. 

“Since when did you care what I thought?”, Lupin barked back, alluding to the prank- Sirius hadn’t meant to. Never meant to hurt him.

It stung. He dropped his head even lower. 

James held back a smile, “Ladies, Ladies- you’re both very pretty”, he teased. 

“Now who’s being misogynistic?”

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History of Magic was boring, so incredibly boring.

The lesson almost felt as if it was in a time loop, a frieze- days of listening to Binns rant on about the Goblin rebellion of 1891, which was as long as it was excruciatingly boring. 

“So then Ranrok rallied his legions, my-you should’ve been there to see it children, they broke into Hogwarts with drills, so loud the noise was- I can practically still hear the buzzing”- Binns babbled, ghostly eyes lit alight, Sirius wondered if the spectre even recognised what year he was talking to, he treated every age group the same, referring to 11 and 18 year olds alike, all ‘Children’ to him. 

Sirius nudged Remus, who was intently listening to the incoherent recount of Goblin Politics,

“Moony, how are you paying attention to this stuff? It’s utter rubbish”, Sirius whispered.

“Maybe if you paid attention Sirius, you’d learn something”

“I am paying attention, attention is my middle name”, he drawled, lazily focusing his eyes to the ghost ahead- feigning interest. 

Remus smirked, amused, “If I remember right, your middle name is Orion”

He winced, pouting, “I’m changing it to attention, ‘don't want to give my old man the satisfaction”.

“Of course you are”, he chuckled. Sirius felt pride welling up within him. That laugh, only Sirius could bring that laugh out in Remus. Merlin it was worth looking like an idiot, to watch Remus attempt to suppress his laughter, biting down on blushed lips, covering his face in order to hide the mirth that danced in his eyes. 

It was lucky that Binns wasn’t a considerably attentive teacher, otherwise they both may have found themselves sweeping floors, or after one eventful potions class in 4th year- gutting newts. 

Sirius shuddered, thank Godric he was able to drop it. One less class without Snivellus, though he was now beginning to regret the alternative. 

Why of all the interesting courses? Did he believe History of Magic would be any fun?

At first he had seen it as a class to sleep in, since he already knew most pureblood history- Walburga had seen to that.

But then Remus stepped in, all scars, cool muggle clothing and cigarettes- smiling on the train at the start of fifth year and telling Sirius that he was going to pick it too.

He’d been excited to share a class with Remus- just them two- best friends- no buffers. 

But now.

Now it was distracting.

How in Merlin’s name was he expected to sleep through Binn’s incessant rambling when Remus sat beside him? When Remus leaned over to move his page to the correct chapter, breath catching his neck and sending shivers through his body . When Remus muffled a snicker behind tanned, calloused hands. 

When Remus looked at him.

How could he sleep through that?

Remus is his best friend, a marauder, his moony .

“It’s normal to feel like this, I just care about him” , he thought- combing hands through his hair as Binns continued to rattle on, hands gesturing enthusiastically. 

But it was hard not to forget that night. That god-awful, brilliant- confusing night. 

The end of 6th year, Gryffindor had won the cup. 

The night was such a blur- consisting of getting drunk off firewhiskey and celebrating. He had snogged Macdonald, jumped on to the couch and attempted to drunkenly place a record on to the player- he vaguely remembers belting Bohemian Rhapsody with James and Remus, dancing on tables and falling into the record player, scratching their second favourite album. 

He had gotten incredibly sentimental that night. Swaggering around, arms extended- inviting any sort of contact, of love- to lean into his touch.

He remembers, he had-

Hugged Peter. Hugged James. Kissed Remus.

He kissed Remus. He’s such a bloody idiot.

Sirius remembers holding him in the dormitory, just out of sight- he remembers whispering. 

“You’re my favourite Moony”

Remus hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t even left- hadn’t stopped. Sirius was the one to do that, he was the one to kiss him, he was the one to push him away. 

He was the one who pretended not to remember.

He always managed to fuck things up. 

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Fate hates Regulus. So much so, that it would allow James Potter to run full throttle into him, again. It would allow Regulus to fall, again. 

It would allow him to watch James stand and reach out his hand. 

Fate watches as Regulus relives that moment, eleven years old on the Hogwarts express, staring up at James fucking Potter. 

It’s all happening again. 

“You okay Regulus?”, James asks, mild concern threatening to leak into his words. 

Regulus stares, attempting to convey disinterest- though he likely only managed confusion.  

“Indeed”, he muttered, rejecting the hand as he did 5 years prior. He rose, brushing off the dirt and dust that clung to his robes. ‘Damn old cobblestone, do they even clean the courtyards?’ , he wondered to himself. 

James bent over, grabbing a green journal off the cobble, dusting it off and reaching his arm towards Regulus. 

“You dropped this”

“Thankyou”, he replied carefully, attempting to grab the diary. It was his poetry, his deepest secrets, scattered across pages of parchment- ink pooling on words never spoken. ‘ That book was his greatest weakness’ , he thought, ‘ and Potter was holding it’ .

Before he could snatch the book out of the boy’s grip, James quickly retreated his hand, holding it high- just out of reach. 

“He misses you, you know?”

Regulus jolts, freezing in place, “What?”

James splutters, suddenly realising the situation he had just created for himself, “I- erm- Sirius, he misses you?”,his nervous tone almost made the sentence come out as if it were a question. It certainly was for Regulus. His brother misses him? Unlikely. 

“Well, he escaped didn’t he- from the evil clutches of our-” he coughed “-my evil family”, Regulus replied, attempting to sound as sarcastic as possible, though the upset in his face completely gave way to the betrayal he felt, “The day he misses me is the day the great lake turns to stone, so Potter, now tell me, what exactly did you expect to achieve by taking my book?” 

“That’s what you think?”, James asked, completely ignoring Regulus’ question, one may even gather that he sounded confused.

Regulus rolled his eyes, "That's what I know.”, he stated, “Give it back.”

“Regulus you-”

“That's Black to you Potter”, he scorned, disdain melting away all vulnerability, curling his lip and biting his tongue. 

“Right, sorry, erm- here”, he muttered, finally lowering his arm and dropping the Journal directly into Regulus’ palms. 

Regulus sighed in relief, thank Merlin- he didn't know what he would do without that book, he turned back to James- eyes drowning in contempt, “I don’t see why you feel the need to mess with my life Potter”. 

James recoiled guiltily, scratching his head, “I wasn’t trying to” “bloody hell Regulu- I mean Black, I just-”

“Just what?”, he wondered, curiosity embedding into his tone, “What exactly was he trying to achieve?”

James exhaled and paused to think, “I just want it to be right for him, I just want him to be happy.”

If Regulus could roll his eyes out of his skull, he would’ve done it, “And how could I contribute to your dearest friend’s happiness?”

“He just wants his brother back I- he wants you back”, he admitted, again scratching the untamed curls that attacked his hair.

Regulus hardened, raising his head upward to meet James’ gaze, he felt so small, so vulnerable under his stare, it was just as difficult to meet it. Hazel eyes, burning with the compassion of a light wizard, of a Potter. Regulus felt his gut twist in protest, ‘ stop looking at me like I’m about to fall apart .’

“I am never going to be the brother he wants me to be, I am not the person he wants back”, he states, silver eyes never leaving hazel.

“That’s where you’re wrong”, James retorted, confidence blazing as the sun would. 

An arrogance that pierced and tanned skin. A look girls could melt under, a confidence one could lounge in. But for Regulus, for pale, thin and tired Regulus. 

It hurt.

The attention blistering his skin with scores of compassion, leaving sores that he could peel back and reap the bite of satisfaction. It reddened his face- embarrassment creeping up his neck.

James’ smile could give you sunburn.

“Am I?, I don’t know what saviour complex you’re failing to fulfil here, but if you can remember anything within that abnormally small brain of yours, let me be the reminder that you were running before we began our little chat”, Regulus sneered, words acting as shade- allowing him to drop his gaze, lest he burn.

A spark of recognition adorned his features “Oh Merlin, class- I’m so late”.

Regulus smirked, the sentiment never quite reaching his eyes, "You're an absolute clotpole”

“Clotpole?”, James asked, baffled.

“A dumb word for an even dumber person”

James had the gall to look offended, “Well, okay that’s an exaggeration”, he replied. 

“I am known for my theatrics, or perhaps that is a job for my brother”

James raised an eyebrow “What’s your job then?”

Regulus mirrored the boy’s expression, “Reminding you that you are exactly 20 minutes late to whatever class you are now missing”

Just like that, James completely derailed, “Oh shit, I erm- see you later then”, James squawked, throwing his bag further on and bolting down the corridor.

“Absolutely not”, Regulus called after him.

Despite himself, Regulus felt a smile crawl on to his face. It lingered, its warm fingers tugging at pink lips.

‘Why did it always have to be him?’