Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

(Regulus)

August, 1977

It’s a beautiful house. It’s yellow, with white pillars by the entrance, and it looks like a home, Regulus thinks. The garden is beautiful, too - it’s big and full of colours and flowers, with rose hip hedges along the stone wall, and an enormous oak.

His heart is beating rapidly when he steps onto the grass. He’s thought it through, and hasn’t. He’s spent so much thought on how to get here, and none on what would happen once he managed to do so. He has no idea what to expect. Maybe it was a mistake, he realises. Maybe he should turn on the spot, abort the mission, and pretend this never happened. 

Something’s stopping him. He’s staring at the house, and it somehow looks so much like James. He’s never been here before, never seen it, and still, he imagines that if someone had picked out a picture randomly and showed it to him, he would be able to tell that this was the place where James Potter came from, where he’d grown up. 

There’s a man in the garden, tending to the rose hip hedges on the other side of the plot, and Regulus doesn’t notice until the man notices him and starts walking right towards him.

“Hello there - can I help you?” says the man, and Regulus panics, frozen on the spot. He’s not supposed to be here. One does not just show up at people’s houses. This was a mistake. Shit. Shit. 

The man stops a few feet in front of him, and up close, Regulus immediately recognizes him from Platform 9 ¾ – although he’s dressed very differently, in working pants and a white t-shirt. The black hair is filled with white streaks, and he has kind, blue eyes that don’t look terrifying at all. 

“You must be Regulus!” says Mr Potter, smiling widely. He doesn’t sound surprised at all that Regulus is there. “It’s nice to finally meet you, welcome!” He reaches out a hand, and Regulus hesitantly takes it. “Fleamont Potter, but you can call me Monty, everyone does.”

“Nice to meet you, sir,” Regulus manages to get out.

“I’m afraid Sirius isn’t home at the moment… but maybe you’re here to see James?” says Mr Potter, something in his eye twinkling slightly. Regulus feels his face turn warm. They know, then? Did James tell them? Oh, dear God. 

“They should be back anytime now,” Mr Potter continues. “Come on, let’s go inside. I think I’m done with these hedges, anyway. The rose hips are looking lovely this year - personally I just like these hedges for the flowers, but my wife makes a lovely jam from the fruit. Packed with vitamins, they are.” 

Regulus follows him to the front door, which Mr Potter holds open for him, and steps inside on trembling legs. He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to say. Something about rosehips, maybe? He doesn’t have anything to say about rosehips.

The inside of the house looks… warm. Regulus can’t find a better word to describe it. The hallway is big and filled with crimson red and mahogany details, as well as gold-plated ornaments by the window. It reminds him of the Gryffindor common room. 

“James,” a voice calls from one of the other rooms. “Is that you?”

“It’s me, love,” Mr Potter calls back. “And I have a surprise!” 

“Monty, if you brought another gnome into the house, I swear to Merlin –” 

Mrs Potter comes into view from one of the doorways, drying her hands on a kitchen towel, and she stops speaking mid-sentence when she sees them. Her grey-brown hair is in a long braid falling over her shoulder, and the first thing Regulus’ notices are the big hazel eyes. 

“Oh, you’re not a gnome,” she laughs. “Regulus! Welcome.” She throws the kitchen towel over her shoulder and walks up to him, placing two steady hands on his shoulders. “Lovely to see you. I’m Euphemia. Come on inside. Let me make you some tea.” 

She gently grabs his arm and pulls him into the kitchen. Mr Potter follows them. Regulus finds it strange how they both act as if they already know him. Sure, it made sense that they would figure out who he was - they must know Sirius had a little brother, and Regulus doesn’t look too unlike him - but why aren’t they more surprised that he showed up here? Even Regulus is surprised he showed up here. And why are they so kind to him? The Potters and the Blacks hate each other. Sure, they’ve taken Sirius in, but Sirius is basically the anti-Black – Regulus highly doubts that Sirius has said anything kind about him to Mr and Mrs Potter. 

“Have a seat, dear” says Mrs Potter once they get inside, and starts flicking her wand around the kitchen. “I sent the boys to get some groceries, but they should be back soon.” She turns on the kettle, then turns and looks right at Regulus. There’s a sudden shift in her expression, and when she speaks next, it’s in a hushed voice, like they’re exchanging secrets. “Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?” 

She’s looking at him with such genuine concern, it catches Regulus a little off guard. She strikes him as motherly. He’s never truly understood that word, not until now, but he sees it so clearly in Euphemia Potter’s eyes, more so than he ever did in his own mother’s.

“I’m fine,” he says quietly, then clears his throat once he finally gathers his senses. “I’m sorry, I know it’s rude of me to show up unannounced like this –”

“Nonsense,” says Mr Potter. “We’re very excited to have you here, we’ve been so curious about you, if I’m being honest. Now, tell us a bit about yourself, why don’t you? I heard you play Quidditch, like James?”

Regulus feels his face turn warm again. “I do. I’m not as good as him, though.” 

“Humble, aren’t you?” Mr Potter gives a hearty laugh. “Well, the bar is quite high, isn’t it? I’ll admit, I’m quite proud of him. Over both of them, of course.” 

Both of them.

Of course.

Regulus just attempts a smile, once again unsure what he’s supposed to respond. His eyes flicker across the room and get stuck on one of the pictures on the wall. It depicts four people, all standing shoulder to shoulder on a beach. 

Mr and Mrs Potter are in the middle, smiling widely at the camera. 

Regulus’ heart takes a leap when he spots James, on Mrs Potter’s side, seemingly laughing uncontrollably, as if someone’s just made a very funny joke. He turns to his side to kiss his mother’s cheek, and then looks back into the camera. 

Next to Mr Potter is Sirius. He has his trousers rolled up and his shoes in his hand as if he’s been out in the water, even though it must be freezing, based on the coats they’re all wearing. He’s grinning widely, and he fits so well in the picture. 

It looks right. Family, Regulus thinks. They’re a family. 

He wonders how a picture so happy can hurt so much to look at. 

“That’s from Shanklin,” says Mrs Potter, who’s obviously noticed what caught Regulus’ attention. “On the Isle of Wight. We like to go there, every once in a while. Have you been?”

“I haven’t,” says Regulus. “It… looks nice.”

“Oh, it’s a beautiful place,” says Mr Potter. “You should come along, sometime.” 

Regulus suddenly feels a lump in his throat. “I’d like that,” he says, and he means it. 

He rips his eyes from the picture and tries to take in the rest of the room. So, this is where Sirius found his home. There’s a nasty feeling bubbling up in his chest. Jealousy, he reluctantly admits to himself. He’s not even sure who he’s jealous of - Sirius, who has this place to call his home, and this family to call his family; or the Potters’, who has Sirius, his brother, and has claimed them as his own, as if he wasn’t Regulus’ first. 

Because Sirius belongs here, he can tell, much more than he ever belonged with the Black’s. 

He wants Sirius to have this. 

He wants Sirius to have everything.

The only problem is that Regulus doesn’t fit into the picture. That he can never be a part of it. 

He can’t shake the feeling that he’s intruding, again, but his thoughts are interrupted by a sudden noise from the hallway. 

“Mum?”

Regulus has barely registered it by the time his heart is doing somersaults. Oh, that voice. He would know that voice anywhere. 

“In here,” Mrs Potter calls. 

There are more noises from the hallway; rustling of paper bags and the sound of the coat rack rattling slightly. “Sirius is stopping by the Lupins’ for a while, but he’ll be back for dinner. Mr Weasley says hi, by the way, we ran into him at the store. Apparently they’re having twins, can you believe it? Twins! Also, we couldn’t find parsnips, sorry, but we got carrots instead, is that alright?”

“That’s fine, James,” says Mrs Potter amusedly. “You have a visitor.” 

“Oh, Peter’s here?” says James, and there’s the sound of approaching footsteps. “I didn’t know he was coming. Damn, Pete, you missed me already?”

He shows up in the doorway a second later, arms filled with grocery bags and his usual casual smile plastered across his face. It’s replaced by shock in less than a millisecond when he spots Regulus.

Regulus has never seen James like this, it strikes him - in his home environment. The only time he’s seen James anywhere outside Hogwarts (besides the train there, and Hogsmeade), was once in Diagon Alley years ago, when Sirius and James ran into each other with their families at Flourish and Blotts. Regulus remembers some very dark looks exchanged between their parents, and how his mother had quite literally dragged Sirius out by his ear, rambling for the rest of the day about the value of having the right people in your circles, what a despicable family the Potters were, and how she wouldn’t be the slightest surprised if Sirius ended up like the lot of them, considering what a huge disappointment he was. 

James looks different, and just the same. His hair is a little shorter than it had been when they said goodbye, and his skin a little darker. He’s wearing normal clothes - a white shirt and a grey knitted vest that Regulus has never seen him in, but it’s really the environment around them that makes the image of James so different. He fits in so well here, as if their surroundings are just an extension of him. 

Anyway, the sight is absolutely breathtaking. 

Regulus suddenly realises he’s standing. He can’t remember getting up. When did he do that? He should probably say something. Shit. 

“Hi,” he says.

James blinks, as if he’s not sure he’s seeing it right, and then he breaks into a smile so bright that Regulus can physically feel it, like the sun warming his skin on a winter day. In a matter of seconds, James has dropped the bag on the counter next to him, leapt across the floor and thrown his arms around him.

Oh, hello, Regulus thinks, sinking into the embrace. I’m home. I’m home.

James holds him tightly, so tightly it hurts, and it’s the best pain Regulus has ever felt. 

“You’re here,” James whispers, his warm breath tickling Regulus’ ear. “You’re here, you’re here. Oh my God.”

“I’m here,” Regulus echoes softly, because it’s true, and it’s so, so lovely, he wants to taste the fact that he’s here. 

“Are you alright?” James asks, still not letting him go. “Are you hurt? What happened? Who do I have to –”

“James,” Regulus interrupts him. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” 

James slumps a bit in his arms. “You’re here.” 

He pulls away slowly, but keeps his hands in a firm grip around his arms, as if he’s afraid Regulus will disappear if he lets go. James is trembling a bit, or maybe Regulus is, or maybe they both are. 

Their eyes meet, and shit, he missed those eyes. Regulus could swear that James is even more gorgeous than they were when they said goodbye a few weeks earlier. He wants to kiss him. God, he wants to kiss him. 

“Are you staying?” James asks, and he looks hopeful. He should really be more specific, but Regulus knows exactly what he means, and he wants to say yes, he wants to say yes so badly he almost does. 

But, “No,” he says. “I just… wanted to see you.” 

This causes an indecipherable expression on James’ face – it’s joy, and it’s disappointment, and all things in between.

“You’ll stay for dinner at least, won’t you?” asks Mrs Potter. Regulus suddenly becomes very aware that she and her husband are still in the room. They should look surprised by the heartfelt reunion that just took place in front of them, but they don’t.

His eyes flicker over them, and it strikes him that regardless of whatever reason they’re being nice to him, they probably have no idea what they’re doing, what they’re putting themselves into. Maybe they think it’s just a normal thing, him showing up there, like he can just do that. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to explain. The woman in front of him is staring at him with such kind eyes, it’s sort of overwhelming. 

“They don’t know I’m here,” he says quietly. He feels stupid, because it’s nowhere near an answer, even less an explanation, but he can tell from the look in their eyes that they understand immediately. 

“Well, we won’t tell,” says Mr Potter, and Mrs Potter hums in agreement. 

Apparently, they know exactly what they’re dealing with – they’ve dealt with Sirius, after all – and still, they don’t seem to mind. Regulus feels every inch of him fill up with so much gratitude for these two almost-strangers, he honestly doesn’t know what to say. Instead, he looks back at James, who still has his shoulders in a firm grip. 

“He’ll stay,” says James. 

“Excellent,” says Mrs Potter. “James, why don’t you lend him something more comfortable to wear? Dinner will be a few hours, so you can catch up a little. Oh, Sirius will be overjoyed that you’re here, Regulus.” 

“Yeah, come on,” James mumbles and nods towards the door. As soon as they exit the kitchen, he grabs Regulus’ hand and they rush up the stairs without a word. 

More pictures flicker past Regulus’ view as they go - more family photos, faces he has never seen, and pictures of James as a kid. He wants to take a close look at every single one of them, but the prospect of having James alone again in just a few moments overrides the urge to stop and look. 

They pass what looks like a study, and then a closed door with a sign that causes Regulus’ eyes to linger for a second.

Sirius

That’s what it says. “Sirius.” 

Just Sirius. 

Not Sirius Black. 

To them, he’s just Sirius. 

Regulus doesn’t have time to think more of it, because James has entered the room next to Sirius’ and dragged Regulus with him, and the questions are pouring out of him before the door has even shut behind them. 

“What are you doing here? Are you alright? Have they –”

He doesn’t get to finish the last question (probably wouldn’t have been the last, anyway) before Regulus has shoved him towards the wall and shut him up with a kiss. It’s eager, because he’s been wanting to do this every second since they did it last time, and now his lips cling to James’ as if he’s a broken, broken person and they’re the one thing that can put him back together. Maybe they are. 

James seems to hesitate for a second but then leans into it, wrapping his arms around Regulus’ back and pulling him closer, welcoming him with his mouth. It’s insanely relieving, when Regulus feels James kissing him back – it’s confirmation, truly.

You’re still mine. We’re still real. I didn’t imagine it. 

James, much to Regulus’ dismay, eventually breaks away from the kiss. “Reggie, are you sure you’re okay?”

Regulus just hums affirmatively as his lips slide down to James’ jaw. 

“Regulus,” says James firmly. “I’ve been so fucking worried about you every –”

“I’m fine,” Regulus mumbles against his skin. “Less talking, more kissing, yeah?” 

“But –” James protests as Regulus’ lips get to work on his neck, but he doesn’t push him away. “How did you even get here? Do they know you’re gone? Are you gonna be in trouble? What can I do?”

“James.” Regulus reluctantly stops what he’s doing, straightens his back and looks up. “Can you – would you – I – fuck – can you just – touch me.” 

James stares at him for a moment, a little flustered. He seems to be fighting some kind of internal battle, but eventually just nods. “Yeah.” He pulls Regulus close again. “Yeah, okay.” 

He kisses him again, and there’s not the slightest trace of hesitation on his lips now. He kisses him fiercely, and Regulus matches his pace, and they eventually come to the point where they’re basically competing on who can kiss the other with more intensity. 

“I love you,” Regulus whispers when their lips break apart for a moment, because he’s been wanting to say it for two months – it’s been right there on his tongue the entire time, waiting to get out the second James can hear it. He’s cradling James’ face in his hands, carefully brushing his thumbs along his cheeks. 

“I love you so much, you have no idea,” says James, and before Regulus knows it, James has grabbed the back of his thighs, hauled him up and put him down on the top of his drawer as if Regulus didn’t weigh a pound. He’s so strong. In every way. A force, really. Regulus wants to be whirled away by it. He wants all of it. 

There’s the fumbling of unbuttoning their clothes as the kissing continues, until Regulus jumps down from the drawer to kick off his trousers on his way to the bed before pushing James down on it. James has just enough time to pull out his wand and mumble a few silencing spells before diving fully into kissing Regulus again. 

They waste no time, partly because there’s the brief worry that someone will knock or come in, mostly because they can't wait. 

It’s been too long. 

They’re both naked within a minute, and Regulus immediately puts his mouth to work on James while prepping himself. James goes along with him, indulging Regulus with whatever he wants, and rewards him with soft moans and gentle fingers in his hair. 

And this, right here, making James feel good in every single way he can manage, feels like his highest purpose in his life at this moment. As long as they’re touching, he’s home. It’s the only home he will ever need. 

“James,” Regulus mumbles after a few minutes. “The spells.”

“What?” says James, seeming rather disoriented from where he’s looking down on him. 

“We’re not at Hogwarts,” Regulus reminds him. “I can’t do magic.”

“Right – right.” James reaches over the edge of the bed to pull out the wand and whispers a few words as Regulus straddles him.

He touches himself as he rides James eagerly – it hurts a little, because he obviously wasn’t as thorough with prepping as James usually is, but it really doesn’t matter, because it’s literally nothing compared to the pain that has been sitting in his chest for two months. It’s gone, finally gone, like Regulus has been suffocating under the absence of James, and someone has finally lifted the heavy weight away from him. It’s just a bruise now, but for every second they’re together, it fades. 

The sex is equally mind blowing as it was the last time they had it. James moans are equally sweet and beautiful in Regulus’ ears, his hands feel the same, his eyes are staring at him as if he’s a God, and Regulus soaks it in, soaks in every bit of it. He basks in the lovely fact that they’re together again, and that James still looks at him in the same way, touches him in the same way, fucks him in the same way – except, maybe it lasts a little shorter than usual. 

“Shit – I’m gonna – fuck -” James groans within half a minute, and then lets out a whine that’s half pleasure, half defeat. Regulus feels James’ body tense up beneath him, and his fingernails digging into his hips. “Fuck – Reggie – shit, I’m sorry – you’re just – it’s been so long –” 

His voice is drowned out by the sound of Regulus letting out a choked moan as he comes too, right behind James, before quite literally collapsing onto him. James wraps his arms around him in a second, and for a minute, they stay just like that. 

Regulus closes his eyes, listening to the sound of James’ heartbeat and their breathing. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

“Yeah,” Regulus whispers eventually. “It’s been so long.”

“Too long,” James mumbles. “And that was like, the hottest thing you’ve ever done, frankly.” 

They stay in silence for another few minutes until their breathing has gone back to normal after the (short, but) very intense sex. 

Regulus looks around the room that he didn’t pay much attention to when they step inside. There’s so much of James in here. The walls are covered with Gryffindor banners and Chudley Cannon posters, accompanied by the same photograph that Sirius had in his old room at Grimmauld – the one with the two of them smiling next to Lupin and Pettigrew. His muggle guitar is resting towards the wall in the corner, next to a pile of books that looks dangerously close to collapsing. 

“Look,” says James eventually, “not that I haven’t been daydreaming about you showing up and shagging my brains out – I have, all summer actually, on an hourly basis – but I kind of still need you to explain, now.” 

“Explain what?” asks Regulus, which is stupid, really, because he knows exactly what James means.

“Why you’re here,” says James, nonetheless. 

Regulus lifts his head slightly to look up at James, who’s looking so confused Regulus honestly feels a little bad for him. “I just… had to see you.”

Had to hear you.

Had to touch you.

Had to make sure we’re still real. Had to make sure you’re still mine. 

“Oh,” James breathes, barely audible. His hands fly up to Regulus’ face, gently pushing away a few wisps of hair that have fallen into his face.

“Are you mad I showed up like this?” asks Regulus. “It wasn’t really planned, and I didn’t give you a heads up, and –”  

“Are you joking? This is the best thing that’s happened to me all summer,” says James. “I gave you the address for a reason, I just… I didn’t think you’d show up, unless something awful had happened.”

“Me neither,” says Regulus honestly.

“I’m glad you did, anyway.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you every minute of every day,” says James, outdoing him brutally the way he always does every time Regulus makes an effort to show affection. He doesn’t even have to try, he’s just so much better at it. 

Regulus can’t compete with James’ verbal ability, so he just kisses him again. James sits up and scooches back to lean towards the wall, pulling Regulus with him on his lap, and kisses him back.  

“You know, you haven’t left my mind since we said goodbye,” says James when their lips part. “Sirius has been teasing me relentlessly because he catches me zoned out just thinking about you. Last week I literally went into Diagon Alley every day just hoping I’d catch a glimpse of you there.” 

Regulus bites his lip, but fails to hide his smile. 

“Wait,” he says. “Do you like, fancy me or something?” 

James laughs, and it feels like someone is breathing air into Regulus’ lungs again. “You could say that.” 

They snog for a while. Regulus didn’t realise how much he missed snogging James. He’ll never get sick of it. He’s honestly convinced he’d let James snog him for the rest of his days.

Which is why he’s a little disappointed when James pulls away. 

“Listen, I never thought I’d say this, but we should really get dressed. As much as I like being naked with you, I really don’t want my mum, or worse, Sirius, to come barging in here when we’re like this.” 

Regulus slides off his lap, but raises an eyebrow. “You’d rather be caught by your mum than my brother?” 

“A hundred percent, yes,” says James. “My mother, unlike Sirius, would be tactful enough to close the door and never talk about it again.” 

Regulus shakes his head. They get out of bed, and James slides back into his pants before heading over to the drawer. “Right – I’ll give you something comfy to wear.” 

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” asks Regulus curiously. 

“Nothing,” says James, “except they don’t look comfy.” 

He pulls out a pair of black trousers in some soft material and throws them over to Regulus along with a linen shirt that’s probably way too big for him, but it’s James’, so he’ll wear it with pride. 

“Do your parents know about us?” he asks while they’re getting dressed. 

“I don’t think so,” says James. “I haven’t told them, and I doubt Sirius has. Why?”

“Just… something your dad said.”

“They didn’t give you a hard time while I was gone, did they?” 

“Not at all, they’re… really nice,” says Regulus. “They… they just didn’t seem too surprised I showed up here, that’s all.” 

James shrugs as he slides back into his trousers. “I mean, Sirius lives here too, so it’s not that weird. Wouldn’t surprise me if they suspected something, though, they’ve always been awfully good at figuring things out, especially my mum.” He puts the knitted vest back on, then turns into the mirror to fix his hair – not that its messy state would give away that there has been something unorthodox going on, it always looks like that. 

Regulus has to roll up the sleeves of the shirt a lot, and borrow a belt for the trousers. He probably looks ridiculous, but he’s never felt so good about himself.

Once they’re dressed, James takes his hands and pulls him closer again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I am, now,” says Regulus, because for the first time in a long time, he really feels okay. 

James nods. “Are you… uhm… eating properly?” 

That hits, probably harder than it should. Regulus knows he has lost weight, alright. He always does over the summer. It doesn’t really matter, because he gains it back as soon as he’s back at Hogwarts. James is the first one to ever make a comment about it. Either that’s because James is the first to notice, because he’s the first person who regularly sees him naked, or James is just the first one to care. 

He suddenly feels very self-aware, and it scares him a bit. Regulus is basically a stick compared to James, even before summer. Maybe James doesn’t find him attractive like this. It’s weird he ever did in the first place, really. 

He doesn’t know what to say, so he puts on a lopsided smile and attempts a joke. 

“Thanks for at least waiting until we’re dressed to point out how scrawny I am.” 

James obviously does not find it funny. His eyes turn wide within a second. 

“No, no, no, no – shit, no, Reggie, no, I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” he rambles quickly, obviously very distressed by the thought of Regulus having taken offence (which, well, he did). “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just meant – I mean – no. You know I think you’re gorgeous, right? You’re perfect, Reg, fucking perfect, like the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life. I would never comment on anything on your body in a negative way, literally never, because I would never think anything of your body in a negative way. I’m sorry. You’re the prettiest person in the world. I’m sorry.” 

Regulus can’t help but to laugh, because James is pathetic, and adorable, and Regulus loves him, and also he gets so nervous by the praise that he can’t really help it. Laughing is usually Sirius’ defence mechanism, but hey, it seems to have worked out well for him so far, so maybe Regulus can give it a go, too. 

“I mean it,” says James sternly. “I really, really, really didn’t mean it like that. It came from a point of concern, I swear. Did I tell you you’re pretty?”

“Calm down,” says Regulus. 

“It’s just, Sirius has said they didn’t feed you enough –” 

“I’m fine. I’m fine, really. I’ve just been… walking a lot. Yeah. Walking for hours each day, and you know I forget to eat sometimes.” 

James doesn’t look entirely satisfied with this answer, but decides to let it go, probably out of pure fear to insult Regulus by accident. 

“Tell me everything,” he says instead, and drags Regulus back to the bed, where they slide down, backs leaning towards the wall. “How have you been? What have you been up to? What have you been thinking? What have you been feeling?”

Regulus pulls up his legs to his body, wrapping his arms around his knees. He wants to tell James everything – about Lyon and the Lestranges, about uncle Cygnus and Lucius Malfoy. He wants to tell James how brave he felt the moment he defended Sirius to his mother, and he wants James to kiss every spot where she beat him after it happened just to make sure it wouldn’t happen again. He wants to tell James how scared he is, what his father told him about his plans for Regulus’ future, and what he’ll be returning to, as soon as he leaves this place. 

But he also doesn’t want to tell James anything, because they have so little time, and every moment feels precious, and valuable. He’s here, and he’s happy, and he’s with James, who definitely worries about him enough as it is, and who also reaches out a hand to put on his arm for no other reason than to touch him. For once in his life, Regulus just wants to exist. 

“Not much,” he says, keeping his eyes on the opposite wall, not meeting James’ look. “I’ve been reading, mostly. Went to France for a few weeks. It was way too hot there, I hated it. Other than that, my summer has been very undramatic.” 

“Shit – I almost forgot,” says James suddenly. “Happy birthday!” 

Regulus raises an eyebrow. “It’s not my birthday.”

“I know, but I wasn’t there for your birthday, was I?” James gets out of bed again, and opens the drawer of his nightstand. “Thought I’d have to wait until September to give you this, but since you’re here – this is better.” He pulls out a box, wrapped in silver paper with a black ribbon around it, sits back on the bed, and hands it over to Regulus. “Happy late birthday, love.” 

Regulus stares at the present in his hand, feeling his cheeks turn warm again. 

“You got me a birthday gift?” he mumbles, slightly dazed.

“Of course,” says James. “Open it.” 

Regulus’ hands are trembling a bit as he slowly unfolds the wrapping paper. Inside is a black box, and he opens it to find a watch. 

The thing is, James has really good taste, but their styles are so different that Regulus is surprised by how much he genuinely loves it. It has a black leather band, silver details, and a big white dial with roman numerals. It’s classic, and elegant, and it must have cost a fortune, Regulus can tell just from the quality of the wristband. He would have loved it even if it was pink with cartoon figures on the dial and made funny noises every hour, because James gave it to him, but this watch might honestly be the one Regulus would have picked himself out of every option in the world.

“James,” he breathes. “It’s beautiful.” 

“You like it?”

“I love it. It’s perfect.”

James smiles, obviously relieved. “Sirius helped me pick it out,” he admits. “I wanted something that you’d actually like. See, I know you’ll probably get a watch from your family next year, because of tradition, but I just wanted you to have one that was from me, until then, at least.”

“I’ll wear this one,” says Regulus. “I’ll always wear this one.”

“It’s enchanted,” says James. 

“What?”

“Just a silly feature I put in there. Try it on.” 

Regulus carefully reaches into the box, picking the watch up. As he puts it on, he notices the small inscription on the back: Regulus. 

Just Regulus. 

Not Regulus Black.

To James, he’s just Regulus. 

“I was going to put your initials, but this felt more personal,” James mumbles, and just for that, Regulus has to lean over and kiss him before he returns to fumbling with the wristband. 

It looks right, on his arm. He wants to wear it forever.

“Reggie,” says James.

“Yeah?” says Regulus, and then flinches a little as he suddenly feels a warm sensation around his wrist. “What’s –”

“Reggie,” James says again, and the heat comes back. He repeats the nickname multiple times, more and more quietly until it’s just a barely audible whisper, and every time, Regulus feels the back of the dial turn warm, just for a moment. He stares at James questioningly, and James gives him a winsome smile. “See, I’ve been thinking about you so much this summer, and back in school, during classes and such, and sometimes I want to let you know, and it’s just been driving me insane that there’s no way for me to do so. I just wanted some way to… to send you the message, I guess. I know it doesn’t say much, but I just thought it would be like… like holding your hand for a second. Hopefully you won’t find it too annoying.” 

Regulus could cry. 

“So every time you say my name –” 

“Every time I say Reggie,” the dial warms up again, “it’ll do that – I thought that was better than Regulus, so you don’t have to wonder if it’s on purpose or if I’m just bringing you up in conversation.” 

“James,” says Regulus, “this is… the best gift anyone has ever given me. Thank you. Thank you. I love it. I love you.” 

James smiles – only James can somehow manage to smile with his entire body – and nudges his cheek with his nose. They inevitably end up horizontally on the bed again, snogging for half an hour, and Regulus inevitably ends up giving James a handjob that doesn’t require him to get out of his clothes again, and James inevitably ends up returning the favour, and then there’s an inevitable need for multiple cleaning spells, and more kisses. 

“Your summer,” says Regulus eventually, a while later, when he’s curled up by James’ side. “Tell me everything.” 

“Oh, it would have been really nice, if I hadn’t been so miserable without you,” says James. “Sirius and I have been helping my dad a bit with work. We got to come with him to Toronto for a few days – it was really cool, you should have been there. Sirius was insanely jetlagged the entire time we were there and then for a week when we got home. Don’t even know how that’s possible. I’ve been tagging along with him looking at flats – actually, he can tell you all about that himself. Anyway, other than that, we spent a lot of time with Remus and Peter. Remus’ mum is sick, so that’s awful. Sirius has been going over there a lot.”

“They made up, I assume?”

“Of course they did. Those tossers couldn’t handle a week without each other. What else? Oh, all of us went to Marlene McKinnon’s summer house the other weekend, it was incredible. All the Gryffindors in my year were there. I’ve never been so wasted in my life.” 

There’s something tugging in Regulus’ chest at the last part, and he isn’t sure why. He opens his mouth to respond – he isn’t sure what, really – but he’s interrupted by a loud banging on the door. They both flinch so violently Regulus accidentally elbows James in the side, and they sit up in a second, instinctively scooching apart. 

“Hey, you there?!” Sirius yells from the other side. 

“Yeah, come in,” says James. 

Another hard knock on the door. “Effie said Reg is here? Is he? Are you dressed?” 

“He’s here, we’re decent, come in,” says James, a little louder.

“James, what’s going on?” says Sirius, knocking once again. 

“Silencing spells are still up,” says Regulus. “He can’t hear you.” 

“Right,” James mumbles, quickly scrambling up from the bed. Regulus gets up, too, and watches nervously as James opens the door to his bedroom to reveal a wide-eyed Sirius, dressed in a black leather jacket, hair up in a messy bun. “Hey, Sirius, your brother is here.” 

Sirius basically shoves James to the side running up to Regulus. Regulus has no time to react, even less lift his arms, before Sirius has embraced him. It’s rather awkward, really, because Regulus can’t hug him back – he’s literally just being squeezed, with his arms pinned along his sides.

“Are you alright?” Sirius asks quietly, a strange shivering of his voice.

“Few broken ribs now, but other than that, yeah,” Regulus mumbles, a little startled by the fact that Sirius is hugging him. They’re not the kind of brothers that hug, are they? 

Sirius seems to realise the same thing and come to his senses, because he quickly lifts Regulus a few inches in the air, causing Regulus to let out an “oof”, before putting him back down and letting go, as if to make up for the extensive hugging. His eyes are filled with questions as he pulls away, but neither of them say anything until James clears his throat behind them.

“I’ll go help mum out with dinner a bit, alright?” 

“Oh,” says Sirius, throwing a nervous glance at Regulus. “I mean… you don’t have to leave for our –”

James just shakes his head, waving his hand in a disregarding manner. “It’s fine. I got some alone time with him, only fair that big brother gets some too, right? I’ll see you downstairs.” He backs out through the doorway, stopping for a second to shoot them both a grin. “It’s really nice to have you both here,” he adds, then disappears out of sight before either of them can respond.

In the corner of his eye, Regulus can tell that Sirius is staring at him, but he avoids his gaze, not entirely sure what to expect.

“So,” says Sirius at last, his voice dripping with forced calm. “Since James seemed so cheerful, I would assume he’s already made sure you’re okay.” 

“He has,” Regulus confirms. 

“Do they know –”

“No.”

“Is it safe for you to be here?”

“Yes.”

“Is it safe for him? For them?” 

“I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.” 

Sirius nods again. “If they find out, you will tell them that I made you come here. You will tell them that you said no, and that I used magic to make you do it anyway. You’re underage, so you couldn’t do anything. James had nothing to do with it. Effie and Monty had nothing to do with it. You had nothing to do with it. Do you hear me?” 

Regulus can physically feel his stomach twist. Why does Sirius always have to be like this?

“They think I’m with Evan,” he says. “He’ll cover for me if they were to check.”

Sirius groans. “You put the safety of yourself and the Potters in the hands of Evan fucking Rosier?” 

“I know too many of his secrets, he wouldn’t dare to reveal mine,” says Regulus casually. “Besides, he thinks I’m going out to drink with Barty, who will also cover for me, because he thinks I’m off to shag Pandora, and Pandora’s smart enough to play along with it if it ever came up.” 

Sirius simply stares at him for a few moments.

“You little schemer,” he says, “I knew you had it in you.” 

Regulus swallows. “I’m sorry for showing up here,” he says. 

“What? Why?”

“Because this is… your world. Your home. I don’t want to intrude -”

“Reg,” says Sirius sternly. “Don’t.” 

“You’re not mad?” Regulus asks incredulously. 

“Of course I’m not mad, you fucking idiot. I begged you to come with me, remember?” 

“But you left your family for a reason, and –”

“Yes,” Sirius interrupts him. “And you were never that reason.”

Regulus could cry, again. He doesn’t know what to respond, so he… doesn’t. 

“Are you here for me or him?” asks Sirius, seemingly as eager as Regulus to switch topics. 

“Both,” says Regulus, honestly. 

“You look like a fucking twig,” Sirius says next.  

“Thank you – James already pointed that out, although he was a little nicer about it.” Regulus turns to Sirius. “Can I see your room?” 

Sirius raises his eyebrows, but nods. “Sure.” 

Regulus follows him out of James’ room, and into the one next to it. 

Sirius’ room is definitely not what Regulus expected. There are no muggle pictures on the walls – no motorbikes, no half-naked girls. Maybe he respects Mr and Mrs Potter too much to plaster their walls with any sort of shocking material – or, Regulus realises, he just disrespects Walburga Black enough to have put them up in his old room for the pure purpose of annoying her.

The room looks nothing like Sirius’ bedroom at Grimmauld Place, and still it’s so… Sirius. A subtle smell of his cologne is lingering in the air, the bed is unmade, and there’s a record player in the corner. Just like in James’ room, there’s a giant window, and along the windowsill is a line of cactuses in different shapes. The walls are filled with posters - neatly arranged images of abstract, colourful artworks, and a few muggle pictures showing singers and bands that Regulus doesn’t recognize. 

The room also has a large desk, with notebooks, letters and muggle pencils tossed out all over it – but what catches Regulus’ attention is the framed picture standing on top of a stack of books. 

“It’s a little messy,” says Sirius, pulling off his leather jacket and dropping it over a chair before plunking down on bed. 

Regulus doesn’t respond. He’s instinctively moving towards the photograph on the desk, unable to take his eyes off it. 

His nine year old self is smiling back at him from the photo, happily flown up on his brother’s back. His chin is resting on the top of Sirius’ head, and his arms are wrapped around his shoulders. Sirius is looking notably older than Regulus, in spite of the small age difference, and has a steady grip around his brother’s legs, trying to peek up at him with a wide grin on his face. 

There’s a picture of them here.

Sirius has a picture of him in his room.

A small piece of Regulus is here. 

Regulus could cry, again, but doesn’t. 

“James put that in here,” Sirius says, once he notices what Regulus is looking at.

Regulus frowns slightly, still with his back turned towards Sirius. “What?” 

“Right after I moved in,” says Sirius. “He and Effie put this room together for me – it was just a guest room, before. I think he wrote to Andromeda and asked for a picture, I’m honestly not sure how else he would have gotten it.” 

“Why would he do that?” asks Regulus.

And why would you keep it, he thinks. 

“I guess he knew I missed you.” 

Regulus almost cries.

And then he can’t stop himself;

“He wants me to join them,” he breathes, his voice coming out a little choked. “He wants me to join them, Sirius.” 

He hears the bed creaking behind him as Sirius presumably scrambles to his feet. Regulus is afraid to see which one of Sirius’ faces will meet him, and as he turns around, he tries to mentally prepare himself for everything – punches, tears, scoffs, yelling, and glares that could kill. 

But when Regulus looks up, Sirius doesn’t look angry, hysterical, cold or cruel. 

He looks terrified. 

“Reg…” 

And then, Regulus says something that he has never said in his entire life, especially not to his brother: “I need your help.” He lets out a shivering breath. “I don’t know what to do.” 

Sirius stares him down, and then glances towards the door.

“Did you tell James?” he asks. 

“No,” says Regulus, only now realising that he will have to, or Sirius will. 

“Good,” says Sirius, to his surprise. “Don’t.” 

Regulus is very confused.

“Are you… considering it?” Sirius asks. 

“What am I supposed to do?” Regulus replies.  

“Refuse.” 

“It’s not that simple.” 

“Run away.” 

“They’ll find me,” says Regulus. “They won’t let me go as easily as they did with you.” 

“Reg,” says Sirius sternly. “Do you want to do it?”

“Of course not,” says Regulus. “You think I give a shit about this war?”

Sirius' eyes fall shut. “That’s not the answer I wanted.”

“I’m sorry to be a disappointment.”

“I want you to say no because you do give a shit about this war.” 

“Why does it matter? It’s all politics. As long as you and James are safe, I just want this war to be over with as soon as possible, and if we can all stay out of it, so much the better.” 

Sirius nods slowly. “Alright,” he says calmly. “And what about people like Remus? What about my friends – people like Lily Evans and Mary Macdonald? What about blood-traitors, like Andromeda? What about gay people – people like us, Reg? What about all the others – all muggleborns, and half-humans – all the people that Voldemort wants killed? I want you to give a shit about this war. I want you to say no because it’s the right thing to do.” Sirius shakes his head, taking a deep breath. “You know what. It doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t do it, I don’t care why. As long as you’re safe.” 

“Betraying my family won’t be safe.” 

“You will listen to me now,” says Sirius, his big brother-voice more prominent than ever. “This is what we’re going to do. You don’t have to worry, they can’t force you to take the mark, you have to accept it. Don’t tell James about any of this – he’ll freak out and do something stupid that will only put you both in danger. You’re going to lie low the rest of the summer - they won’t try to make you do it now anyway, you’re not even seventeen, so it’s going to be okay. And for the love of God, you’ll stop hanging out with people like Evan Rosier.” 

Regulus says nothing. Sirius keeps rambling. 

“Try to come up with an excuse to stay at school during Christmas – I know they’re very strict about tradition, but we can figure something out, like if we make sure you’re ill – not really ill, of course, just ill enough that it’s better for you to stay in the infirmary at Hogwarts. Next summer – your birthday is right after the term ends, and then you’ll be seventeen, and then there’s nothing they can do. You’ll come live with me – right, by the way, I just got a flat a few days ago, I’m moving next week, and no one knows where it is except the Potters and Remus, so we’ll make sure no one else finds out. You’ll be safe at Hogwarts, and if anyone gives you shit after I leave school, I will personally get over there and beat them up. I’ll spend this year reading up on protecting spells, so the flat will be hidden, and they will never know where to find you, and I will keep you safe, and you’re going to be okay, Reg, it’ll be okay, I promise.” 

“Okay.” 

Sirius blinks. “What?” 

“Okay,” Regulus repeats. 

Sirius pulls him into a hug again, but this time, he keeps Regulus in his arms. 

“Merci,” he breathes. “Merci. Merci. Merci.” 

It should really be Regulus thanking him, but there’s no time for that, because there’s suddenly James’ voice, calling from the end of the stairs. “Sirius! Reggie! Dinner!” 

Regulus smiles a little into Sirius’ shoulder as he feels the warm sensation on his wrist when James calls his nickname, and then they let go of each other to head downstairs. 

He knows he just made the heaviest decision of his life.

It doesn’t feel heavy, though. 

He feels so much lighter.  

“We’re having Thai food tonight,” says Mr Potter when they enter the kitchen. “Picked up some inspiration in Bangkok, this summer. Have you tried Thai food before, Regulus?”

“I haven’t,” says Regulus, “it smells delicious.” 

Sirius sits down by the table, pulls out the chair next to him, gesturing towards Regulus to sit down next to him. Regulus follows his lead, rather relieved for the simple instructions. James sits down at the edge of the table. 

“Don’t worry, Sirius,” he smiles, “we went easy with the chilli for you.” 

Sirius scoffs. “You shouldn’t have. I love spicy food.”

“Sure you do, darling,” says Mrs Potter teasingly, as she puts down a bowl of salad on the table and sits down on the chair on the opposite side of the table from Sirius. “I do remember how much you loved the kimchi last week.”

“I ate it!”

“Just to prove a point,” says James. 

“I was fine,” Sirius insists. 

“Really? I remember you were sweating through your shirt,” says Mr Potter. “Regulus – you’re the honorary guest, go ahead, help yourself.” 

Regulus stares at the table in front of him. The food is all laid up in pots and bowls, like at Hogwarts. Back at Grimmauld Place, he’s usually served food on a prepared plate brought in front of him. His parents never starve him, like they did with Sirius, because he never gives them a reason to – but the servings tend to be frugal, especially in the beginning of the school breaks, when his mother notices that he’s put on weight during the year. It doesn’t suit him, she thinks.

He puts some rice on his plate, as well as a little salad and a spoon of the yellow, stew-like thing in front of him.

“Have a spring roll,” says Sirius, throwing something beige and cylinder-shaped on his plate as the rest of the family dig into the feast. “You’ll like them.”

“Hey, give me one, too,” says James, holding his plate up to Sirius. “Or two, actually. I’m starving.” 

Regulus has never really had any sort of foreign food – Hogwarts serves mostly traditional British wizarding dishes, and the food at home never extends further than the French cuisine, but Thai food turns out to be as delicious as it smells. There are flavours that Regulus has never had in his life, and although it’s not spicy, there’s a bit of a sting to it. 

“I heard you travel a lot, Mr Potter?” says Regulus in an attempt to make polite conversation.

“Oh, call me Monty,” says Mr Potter, “and yes, I do, quite a bit. I enjoy it, but I’ll admit, it was easier when I was younger.” 

“Which is your favourite place, so far?” 

“That’s a very difficult question,” says Mr Potter. “Places are much like people – we can appreciate them in different ways, and it all depends on our experience of them, which side of them we get to see. If I had to pick one place, it would have to be Iran. Beautiful nature, beautiful architecture, beautiful people. We brought James there in -68. He got away from us at one point, we lost him in the muggle crowds – we panicked, I’ll tell you - but we eventually found him having tea with some nice elders in a dry cleaning place. They turned out to be lovely people, we’re still friends with them to this day, actually.”

“You’re welcome,” says James. 

“Never a calm moment with this one, when he was a kid,” Mr Potter sighs. 

“Remember in Sevilla, when he almost stole a car?” says Mrs Potter fondly. “Our little troublemaker.” 

“I was five,” says James as his mother reaches across the table to pinch his cheek. 

“And now he’s Head Boy. Who would’ve thought?” 

“How do you almost steal a car when you’re five?” asks Sirius curiously. 

“Wait,” says Regulus. “You’re Head Boy?”

“Oh,” says James, looking up to meet his eyes. “Yeah, apparently I am. No one was as surprised as me, I assure you.”

“Except me,” says Sirius.

“And me,” says Mrs Potter.

“And me,” says Mr Potter. “We’re very happy about it, though. You must have been a good influence, Regulus. I heard you’re a prefect, too.”

“Terrible influence, if anything,” says Sirius. “You know how much effort I put in to make sure James stays a troublemaker?” 

“You’re lucky we love you, Sirius,” Mrs Potter sighs. 

Regulus has rarely been so relieved to have Sirius nearby, because the entire situation is unfamiliar and strange. Outside Hogwarts, he’s never really had dinner with anyone except the Black family. The Potters’ dinners are nothing like those. They joke, and they laugh, and they make quick remarks – even tease each other, but always with their tongues in their cheeks. 

After they finished dinner (and after James made sure to put a second enormous serving on Regulus’ plate, and then Sirius a third), they head upstairs. Beyond the bedrooms is a small living room – a library of some sort, it looks like, because the walls are covered with well-stocked bookshelves. There’s a fireplace, as well as a crimson red sofa, and that’s where they sit down – Regulus in the middle, and James and Sirius on each side of him.

“Are you going to be okay?” asks James, grabbing his hand. “Rest of the summer, I mean?”

“Do you think we can sneak back some food with you?” asks Sirius, reaching for a blanket to put around Regulus’ shoulders. “I have some chocolate in my room, I’ll shove some in your pockets before you go, and I want you to eat all of it before I see you next time.” 

“Did you have enough to eat?” James asks. “I’ll get you another round, if you’d like. Or dessert. Let’s have dessert.” 

“You’re coddling me,” Regulus laments. 

“Yes, obviously,” says Sirius.

“I mean, duh,” says James. 

“Well, stop it.” 

“Mm, no,” says Sirius, and then frowns as his eyes get stuck on something below Regulus’ ear. Instantly, he reaches out to grab Regulus’ chin. “Is that a bruise? Did they hit you?” 

Regulus quickly shoves his hand away, and puts his own over his neck. “What?”

“Are you hurt?” James immediately leans over him to see what Sirius is referring to, putting his entire weight on Regulus’ thigh, causing him to wince. “Wait, no, I think I did that.” 

“You’re disgusting, Potter,” Sirius spits as James falls back to his spot with a grin. 

“What if I asked him for it?” Regulus teases. 

“Shut up, you’re five.”

“Sixteen, actually.”

“Well, in my head, you’re five,” Sirius announces. “And I will coddle you as much as I please.” 

“I’m one and a half year younger than you.” 

“We just care about you, Reggie,” James muses, and the watch on Regulus’ wrist, as well as his cheeks, go warm for a second. “Can’t you let us? We haven’t had the chance in so long.” 

Sirius has pulled out his wand, pointing it towards Regulus with a curious look. “May I remove that mark of sin on your throat, or would you like me to stop coddling you and leave it for your lovely mother to see?” 

Regulus glares at him, but quickly realises that he doesn’t have a lot of options. He shrugs. “Fine,” he mumbles. 

“That’s the spirit,” says Sirius, and mumbles a quick spell. “There we go, good as new.” 

Regulus looks at them both, and realises he’s never felt so loved in his entire life. He has absolutely no idea what he’s done to deserve it. 

“Can’t you stay?” James coos, wrapping himself around him. “I’m not ready to let you go again.” 

Regulus and Sirius exchange a look. Regulus expects him to say something, but Sirius doesn’t – he just gives him a meaningful look. 

Regulus turns to James. “No,” he says. “I’m not staying, not now - it’s not worth the potential trouble – but next summer, I’m running away.” He throws a glance to his brother, some part of him wanting to make sure the plan is still on, “...Sirius is helping me.” 

James stares at him, and then at Sirius, and then back at him. “You… you mean that?” 

“Yes,” says Regulus.

“You’re leaving your family?”

Regulus swallows. “My family is in the room.”

It’s the soppy kind of thing that would usually come out of Sirius’ mouth, not his, but it causes both Sirius and James to throw themselves over him from opposite directions. They’re a tangled mess, and eventually slide off the sofa, where they end up all laughing in a pile. Regulus doesn’t even know what they’re all laughing about, but he’s laughing too. It just feels good. 

There are sudden noises from outside the room, and a familiar voice calls “Sirius?”

“Shit,” Sirius mumbles. “Shit, shit – I completely forgot.”

“Moony’s here?” asks James. 

“We made plans, and I forgot.” Sirius flies up to his feet, and heads to the door. “Hi, love, we're here.” 

Lupin shows up in the doorway and receives a firm kiss from Sirius before he looks up at the others and his eyes go wide at the sight of Regulus. 

“Oh,” he says. “Regulus – hi, I didn’t know you were here.”

“Is everything okay?” Lupin asks, turning more to Sirius. 

“Yes,” says Sirius. “I’m sorry – I completely forgot we had plans, well… something, someone, showed up, and I just –”

“Hey, Sirius, it’s fine. It’s fine. We’ll do it another time.” 

“Don’t cancel your plans for my sake,” says Regulus. 

“Don’t be stupid,” says Sirius, rolling his eyes.  

“Where were you going to go, anyway?” asks James. 

“See, Remus told me about these muggle gay clubs, so I’ve been trying to convince him to take me to one, and finally got him to agree,” says Sirius. 

“Muggle gay clubs?” asks James, confused. 

“It’s like a regular muggle club – like the one we went to at Lily’s, remember?” Remus explains. “But for gays.”

Regulus furrows his brows. “That’s a thing?”

“Apparently,” says Sirius. “Hey – wait – you guys should come!”

“You’re joking,” says James. 

“Have you gone mad?” asks Regulus.

“No, I’ve always been this way,” says Sirius. “Come on, it will be fun!” 

Regulus can honestly say that he didn’t expect to ever go to a muggle club with his brother, or a muggle club in general, particularly not the gay kind, but after about four minutes of discussion, James and Regulus agree to go. 

James thinks it sounds exciting, and Regulus would honestly go wherever James would go, and also, he’s here, so what’s another crazy adventure today, anyway? Besides – the club is apparently in London, so he’ll be close to home and able to sneak back as soon as he needs to. 

He has to change clothes again, so he borrows some trousers from Sirius, but keeps James’ shirt on him, because James says he looks like a treat in it. 

Before they leave, he sneaks downstairs again, and finds Mrs Potter reading by the kitchen table. It’s peaceful here. Grimmauld Place is just… quiet. Not peaceful. Not like this.

“Just wanted to say goodbye, before we head out, and, uhm, thank you, for dinner and… everything.”

Mrs Potter looks up, smiling warmly at him. “Oh, Regulus, we were just so glad to have you here, you’re welcome back any time.”

Regulus takes a deep breath. “I would like to say thank you for what you’ve done for my brother,” he says, because although it’s difficult to say, he really, really means it. “It… it means a lot to see that he has a good home. I’m really grateful to you and your husband.” 

“We did what every parent would have done,” she says. She’s wrong. She’s so, so wrong, and she seems to realise it herself, because she adds: “Well, most of them.” 

Regulus nods, looking away a bit.

“You talk about Sirius as if he’s your own,” he notes. 

“Well, maybe I didn’t have to push him out between my legs, but if anything, that makes me like him better.” 

She stands up, walks over to him, and gives him a hug. 

A hug.

A hug?

What. 

She’s the third person in the world to ever hug him, he thinks. He’s not prepared, but he still finds himself sinking into her embrace. 

“There’s always room for you here, Regulus,” she whispers. “I hope you know that.”

Something about that makes Regulus tear up. What has gotten into him, today? 

He pulls away, scared that he might start full out crying, gives her a shaky smile and thanks her again, before heading back to the others. 

June, 1996 - Two months later

August 16th, 1977

Dear Regulus, my star. 

First of all, Sirius moved out, so I officially hate my life. 

Second of all, you know who we ran into yesterday in Diagon Alley? Bathilda Bagshot! Remember her? She was a teacher until my third year. Apparently she’s still very much alive and thriving – she lives in Godric’s Hollow now, and invited Sirius and me over for tea. I think Godric’s Hollow would be a nice place to live, don’t you? 

Third of all, I’ve been thinking about all the things I want to say to you when I see you again. Not too long left, now. I’ve never looked forward to summer being over as much as I do right now – the days without you feel SO long. 

As always, I love you, Reggie. Can’t wait to kiss you.
James

P.S “The world is changed because you are made of ivory and gold. The curves of your lips rewrite history.” Don’t hate me for including the soppy quote. It made me think of you, okay. 

“I heard you made quite a scene with Dumbledore, before.”

Regulus hadn’t heard Sirius come into the living room – he’d been too focused on the notebook in his hands. He still hasn’t read all of the letters, but he takes it out from the gap under his floorboard more often now. He’ll never read more than one letter at a time, and he doesn’t read them in order, either. He’ll open up the book on a random page, read through the letter, and then re-read it over and over again until he has to put it away. 

By the time Sirius interrupts him, he’s read it eight times. 

Regulus scoffs. “He’s completely incompetent. Someone has to tell him.” 

Sirius just watches him, searchingly. “Yeah, alright,” he mumbles. “I think I’ll go bother Remus for a while, I’ll be upstairs.” 

To Regulus’ surprise, he doesn’t say anything more about Regulus’ little scene with Dumbledore before he leaves the room. Maybe he doesn’t dare to. Or maybe, he actually agrees with Regulus, even though he wouldn’t admit it. 

Regulus has definitely run out of patience with Dumbledore. His mild scepticism had turned into raging hatred over the past few weeks, and the absolute worst part about it was that no amount of insults or criticism ever seemed to bite on the old man. Dumbledore somehow always remained calm, seemingly unbothered by Regulus’ fury. Regulus’ words had always been his greatest weapon – he could be vicious, if he wanted to – but Dumbledore was apparently immune. 

Of course, Regulus had managed to turn parts of the Order against himself for his little vendetta. Regulus finds it slightly disgusting – the adoration and unconditional respect they all hold for Dumbledore, as if he’s an infallible God. It’s the same kind of blind, reckless loyalty Regulus had previously only encountered among the Death Eaters. It’s sickening. 

He doesn’t even find the worst thing about Dumbledore to be his incompetence. No, the worst part about Dumbledore is his passivity, and his arrogance. Regulus can not stand the saviour-complex – especially not from someone who acts as if they have all the time in the world, as if the war isn’t about to break out in complete disaster, just like it did last time. 

It’s driving Regulus mad. 

Dumbledore had also not agreed to let Regulus take over the mission that was teaching Harry occlumency, but had instead guaranteed Sirius that he would convince Snape to continue. Whatever this had led to, Regulus had no idea – none of them do, because the communication with Harry is still heavily restricted, which in its turn is driving Sirius mad. 

Except for that, and the constant boredom and distress of being locked in this house again, Sirius has been doing better. Regulus assumes a lot of it has to do with the fact that Sirius and Remus have been doing better. 

Slowly but surely, they’ve become a team again. Regulus hasn’t asked about it, and neither of them have said anything, but he can tell. He can tell from the way Sirius’ eyes linger on Remus when he isn’t looking. He can tell from the way Remus’ hand lingers on Sirius’ shoulder when he’s having a rougher day. Some days, Regulus catches them giggling quietly together, even laughing – slowly, but so very surely, Sirius and Remus are starting to resemble their old selves, the pair Regulus once knew at Hogwarts. 

It makes sense. They’re the moon and the stars – they’re meant to be, to shine right next to each other, bright on the night sky. 

The sun and the stars, on the other hand, could never shine together. 

His trail of thought is interrupted by a sudden voice.

“Sirius? Sirius!” 

Regulus immediately scrambles to his feet when he realises the voice is coming from the fireplace. It takes longer than it should to realise that it’s not James’ face staring back at him. 

“Harry? Is everything okay?”

“Is Sirius there?” Harry asks as Regulus kneels by the fireplace. He sounds stressed, almost panicked. 

“He’s upstairs,” says Regulus. “Shall I get him?”

“I don’t have a lot of time – are you sure?” Harry asks. “Are you sure he’s there? That he’s alright?”

“I just saw him two minutes ago.” Regulus furrows his brows at the immediate relief on Harry’s face. “Harry, did you have another vision?” 

It takes a second before Harry admits: “Yes.” 

“Where are you calling from? I thought the fires were blocked.”

“We broke into Umbridge’s office –”

Oh dear God.

“Why didn’t you use James’ mirror?” 

Harry blinks. “What?”

“Sirius told me he gave you James’ mirror,” says Regulus. “The two-way mirror.” 

“Sirius hasn’t given me a mirror,” says Harry, frowning slightly before his expression suddenly shifts, and a realisation seems to dawn on him. “Oh.” 

“Get out of that office now,” says Regulus, “and use the mirror, alright?” 

“Alright,” says Harry, and then his face disappears in the flames. 

Regulus is up the stairs in less than a minute, banging on the door to his mother’s old bedroom. “Sirius!”

“Go away,” Sirius shouts from the other side. 

“Put your clothes back on and get out here,” says Regulus. “It’s Harry.” 

“What?” There are sudden noises coming from the other room – Sirius and Remus scrambling out of bed to get dressed, Regulus supposes. “Is he alright?” 

“He just called through the fire,” says Regulus. “He asked for you – I think he had another vision.” 

The door flies open – Sirius is shirtless, still buttoning his trousers. “What’s going on?”

“We didn’t even have a minute – they broke into Umbridge’s office again, and I told him he should call through the mirror instead, so he wouldn’t get in trouble. Do you have it?” 

“Of course,” says Sirius, heading back into the room and throwing his shirt back on before digging into one of the drawers to find the mirror. “I don’t understand why he wouldn’t use it in the first place –”

“I don’t think he even thought about it,” says Regulus. 

“Harry?” says Sirius into the mirror. “Harry!”

“Give him a minute,” says Remus, who’s in the background – fully dressed, thankfully. “If he was just at Umbridge’s office, it’ll take him a while to go somewhere private.” He turns to Regulus. “What was his vision about?” 

“I think – he was worried that something had happened to Sirius,” says Regulus. “I bet Voldemort tried to lure him there, to come save you.”

Sirius goes very, very pale.

“He was supposed to have learned to resist it by now,” says Remus quietly. “He’s not supposed to –”

“Snape,” Sirius growls. “I swear to Merlin, I’ll…” He trails off, sinking down on the bed with a deep sigh. 

They all remain quiet for a while.

“Sorry I interrupted your shagging session,” says Regulus shortly, just to break the silence.

“Shut up,” says Sirius, eyes still glued to the mirror (Remus, however, turns a little pink behind him). “Do you think Harry’s in trouble? Did he get caught?” 

“I don’t know,” says Regulus honestly. “He has James’ cloak, doesn’t he?”

“Yes,” says Sirius. “And the map.” 

It takes half an hour until there’s finally a sign of life in the mirror. In that time, Remus has ushered them all down to the kitchen to stop Sirius from starting to climb on the walls, and Sirius has made them all to tea – probably just to have something to do. 

“Sirius?” says a very welcome voice, and Harry’s voice appears in the mirror that’s resting at the table. 

“Harry!” Sirius exclaims, immediately grabbing it. “What’s going on – are you alright?” 

“I’m fine,” says Harry. “We were almost caught, but managed to sneak past them.” 

“What happened?” 

“I saw you… I saw you getting hurt. I saw you with Voldemort.” 

“I’m not hurt, Harry,” says Sirius, and although he tries to sound steady, Regulus doesn’t miss the tremor in his voice. “I’ve been fine, right here, the entire time. It was a fake vision.” 

“I’m so stupid,” Harry whines. “I didn’t even think about using this – we were gonna go to London –”

“You were what?” Sirius exclaims. “Harry, are you out of your mind?” 

“Well, it’s not like I was going to let you die!” says Harry, sounding annoyed. “I tried to find McGonagall, but she’s not here – and Dumbledore’s – argh…” 

“Harry,” says Sirius in a stern tone. “Listen to me, right now – Voldemort is trying to trick you. If you have any more of those visions, I want you to ignore them. Even if I was getting hurt – if I’m ever in that position – I want you to stay in safety. Do you hear me?” 

“No,” says Harry stubbornly, and Sirius and Remus let out a mutual sigh. 

“This is not a discussion,” says Sirius again. “ Now – about your vision – has Snape stopped giving you lessons?”

“No, I’m just terrible at it,” says Harry. “And Snape isn’t really helping.” 

Sirius heaves another sigh. “I think we can work out another arrangement,” he says, throwing a glance at Regulus, whom Harry can’t see. “Harry, I’d really like you to come back here for the summer, if that would be alright with you.”

“Really?” says Harry immediately. “Can I?”

“I’ll talk to Dumbledore,” says Sirius. “With everything that’s going on – we want you nearby. I want you nearby. And… we need to do something about those visions, it’s important.” 

Harry doesn’t say anything, but Regulus would assume that he’s nodding, because Sirius is looking rather relieved. 

“Are you alright, otherwise?” Sirius asks. 

“Yes, I –” says Harry, then stops himself. “I need to go. Someone’s coming.”

“I’ll see you soon,” says Sirius.

He eventually puts down the mirror, and looks up. 

“Well,” Remus breaks the silence, “this day could certainly have gone very badly.” 

“Brave but stupid,” Sirius mutters. “Reminds me of someone.” 

“Dumbledore’s not going to let him stay here,” says Remus. 

“Well, Dumbledore doesn’t get a say in this, anymore,” says Sirius, annoyed. “He’s supposed to protect Harry – and what is he doing? Harry was just about to go to London, straight into Voldemort’s trap! I want him here, I want him right here, and if Dumbledore doesn’t approve of that, I will tell him to bite me.” 

Regulus can’t help but to let out a choked laugh. He hasn’t felt this united with Sirius in a long time. 

“Dumbledore wants what’s best for Harry,” says Remus calmly. “That being said – I’ll be on your side.”

“I hate this,” says Sirius, sounding miserable. “I hate that I can’t be there for him, I hate that I’m stuck here – I hate that if something were to happen to him, I’m so far away. James and Lily trusted me to look after him, and what am I doing here? Being completely useless.”

With that, Sirius gets up and leaves, Remus immediately rushing after him. 

And that's when Regulus decides – he’s officially done.

Done listening to them. 

Done doing what Dumbledore tells him to. 

Done being a little louse. 

“Kreacher!” he calls, and the house-elf immediately shows up next to him. 

“Master called?”

“Yes,” says Regulus. “Kreacher, I'd like you to come with me. We’re going to visit some family.”