Chapter Text
Spring 1864; Kensington, England
“James, you simply must be there. How am I supposed to survive an entire night of socialisation by myself, I’ll be bored out of my mind.”
“Come off it, don’t act like you won’t be preoccupied with Amelia Bones.” James sets aside his pen to fan himself with his half written letter, fluttering his eyelashes. “Oh Mr Pettigrew, are you asking me to dance?”
“Do you think she would say yes?”
“Of course she would, Pete.” Signing the note with a flourish, he leaves the ink to dry, heading over to the mirror where Peter is struggling with his cravat. “Miss Bones is a sweet girl, and you’ve improved heaps on your waltz,” his smile slips into a teasing one even as he bats Peter’s hands away to tie it for him. “I doubt she’ll laugh even if you slip on her dress.”
“That was one time!”
“A memorable night indeed. There, now you won’t scare her off with a lopsided suit at least.”
Peter smoothes down his shirt, seemingly deeming himself presentable enough. “Thanks James, now come on, you still have time to get dressed. Who’s that letter for anyway?”
“Dad asked me to write one, said I should familiarise myself with his colleagues if I’m to help with the business. Wanted me to invite a Mr Lupin over for tea in a fortnight. I think he has a son our age, actually, he might be at the ball.”
“All the more reason for you to be there. You can socialise for Monty’s benefit as well as mine. Now go put on a new shirt, you’ve ink stains on this one!”
James laughs as Peter begins to push him towards the wardrobe. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Cease your manhandling or I’ll pull your tie loose and Amelia won’t dance with you after all.”
“You’re insufferable, Potter.”
“You love me, Pettigrew.”
—
“Sirius you mustn’t slip away the moment you arrive this time, Mother wants you to make your presence known.”
“Mother only wants the Black name’s presence known, why entertain those bores when you’ll be there to stand around and look pretty.” Sirius leans back languidly, seated on the desk the way Regulus hates. “We both know that even if I try, I’ll end up dancing with the wrong person and Mother will start a lecture.” Here he raises his voice into a stiff tone. “Sirius Orion Black, have I taught you nothing? Did you forget that Miss So-And-So associates with Mr Did-Something-Scandalous? You’re shaming the family reputation!”
“Shush, she’ll hear you.”
“Even better, she can begin the lecture so that I’ll be done with it sooner.”
“Siri, please. I can’t be there alone.”
Regulus doesn’t often plead, and his soft tone sobers Sirius enough that he finally rises to his feet with a sigh. “The things I do for you, Reggie,” he mutters fondly, ruffling his little brother’s hair as he passes to don his coat, chuckling at the elicited hiss of protest. “Tell Kreacher to ready the carriage, I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Don’t wear the yellow neckerchief, you’ll look ridiculous.”
“You’ll have me with the neckerchief, polka dots included, or you shan’t have me at all.”
Regulus heaves an impressive sigh, and Sirius considers his night to be off to a brilliant start.
—
The Prewetts are known for hosting lavish parties, whilst also taking great care to invite an expansive selection of guests so that none would be confined to a single social group. Regulus knows that if this were the Malfoys or the Lestranges then Sirius would refuse to accompany him no matter the plead, preferring to maintain a more than respectable distance from anyone too close to the family tree. As it is, there are enough people deemed not "stuffy and obnoxious”, and Regulus is able to shadow his brother as he effortlessly charms every person they come across.
Sirius is on his third glass of champagne and chatting amicably with Amos Diggory while Regulus nurses his first, not particularly enjoying the bitter taste, nor the way that alcohol causes his face to flush a pronounced shade of pink.
“Sirius, have you met James? I believe he’s your age, marvellous lad, you’d get along exceptionally. James!” Amos beckons this ‘James’ from across the room, and Regulus refrains from raising an eyebrow in disapproval at him for raising his voice at another in the midst of conversation. Sirius doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, so he remains silent.
Abstaining from the champagne to avoid looking flushed turns out utterly useless after all, once ‘James’ emerges from the crowd. His glasses are the first element Regulus notices. They ought to look comical, large round lenses catching the candlelight as he moves, yet instead they emphasise his warm eyes, merry with laughter as he exchanges greetings with Amos. Sun kissed skin, a mop of curly brown hair, and an altogether convivial countenance as he acknowledges Sirius with great enthusiasm, as though greeting an old friend. Then James turns to him, and Regulus falters in the face of that jovial smile.
“Mr Potter, this my younger brother, Regulus,” Sirius steps in, all too familiar with his shyness. Regulus only prays that Sirius doesn’t notice his much too rosy cheeks.
“Oh I’m not Mr Potter, Mr Black, I’m only James.”
“And I’m not Mr Black, only Sirius.”
Regulus clears his throat mildly, dissatisfied with the way James’ attention so easily flits back to his brother. “Pleasure to meet you.. James.” He hesitates a moment to use such a familiar address, and then doubts his choice. Suppose he only meant for Sirius to address him as James, and now he’s been offended? Less than a minute into conversation and he’s already blundering.
But James’ grin doesn’t falter. “Pleasure for me also, Regulus.” They shake hands, and Regulus barely registers what Sirius is saying, busy relishing in the way his name sounds coming from James’s mouth. He feels as if he’s hearing his name for the very first time, and then abruptly rids his mind of such an absurd thought. He shan’t make a fool of himself with such silliness.
By the time he pulls himself together, Sirius has effortlessly steered the conversation, used to stealing the attention so that Regulus wouldn’t have to contribute to small talk. Something that he had always been thankful for, until this moment. For the first time, Regulus resents being left out of the limelight. Look at me, he wants to say.
Look at me, James Potter.
—
Sirius is fun, James decides as they navigate from topic to topic with ease. They seem to agree on everything; cricket, horse riding, the dullness of college preparatory lectures and the excitement of holiday plans for the upcoming summer. The Black’s harbour a reputation that precedes them, and had Sirius turned out to be as stiff and portentous as expected, he would have spent the conversation waiting for an opportunity to excuse himself. How wrong he was, as he and Sirius laugh merrily over their shared hatred of Latin.
A few glances toward the dance floor confirm that Peter has indeed successfully attained a waltz with Amelia. They appear to be enjoying each other’s company, and James makes note so that he could tease Peter after the party.
“I’m planning as many excursions as I can get away with,” Sirius is saying. He uses his hands to speak a lot, the half full champagne glass threatening to spill with each exaggerated motion. “I refuse to be shut away inside the manor all summer. Picnics and rowing, I’ll frolick to my heart’s content. You should join me James, we’ll have a riotous vacation together-”
Abruptly, he cuts his sentence short, gaze locked somewhere behind James’ head. He turns to see what has caught Sirius’ attention so, but all he sees are crowds of people talking and dancing, indistinguishable from each other. He spins back around to face Sirius, perplexed. “Are you alright there, mate?”
“Uh, yes. Yes of course.” But Sirius’ gaze doesn’t return to him. “Hey James, I noticed you keep watching the floor. Why don’t you have a waltz with Regulus here?”
Regulus starts, having been such a quiet presence that James hadn’t spoken to him since their initial greetings. “Siri?”
“Yes yes, James, my brother is a tremendous dancer. Go on Reggie, you’ll both have a grand time.” And with that, Sirius begins walking away, looking to all the world like a man on a mission.
James is still unable to determine the object of Sirius’ evident fixation, but watches him leave with a huff of amusement. He turns back to Regulus, who seems one fright away from disappearing altogether.
“Well, Regulus, I’ve been told you are a tremendous dancer. Would you like to waltz with me?” James extends his hand, ducking into an exaggerated bow, hoping his antics would alleviate some of the other’s reserve.
Regulus’ shoulders stiffen inward slightly, but he accepts James’ hand nonetheless. “I wouldn’t consider myself tremendous, but I accept your request.”
He oughtn’t to have expected any less from a Black. Regulus dances effortlessly, form perfect as he drifts across the floor. His expectations continue to be defied, as the boy’s timid behaviour led him to predict Regulus being unable to look at him, perhaps darting his gaze nervously everywhere but him. Instead, his partner seems to be staring intently.
“Something on my face?” He grins, studying Regulus in return. He does not look identical to Sirius by any means, yet if the brothers were to stand next to each other none would mistake them for otherwise. Same alabaster skin, high cheekbones, dainty noses.
“No, nothing like that..”
James allows him to get away with that answer. “Well, if you wouldn’t consider your dancing tremendous, how about we settle on marvellous then.” He doesn’t give Regulus a chance to respond before pulling him into a spin, catching him off guard. James laughs outright at the indignance on his face. “Apologies my dear, would you rather spin me?”
“This isn’t that kind of waltz, Mr Potter,” Regulus huffs, face red with exertion.
“Oh? Are we back to Mr Potter now? What happened to James,” he’s teasing now, but how could you blame him, when Regulus is so easy to tease?
“Perhaps you’ll just be Potter then.”
“And what would that make you? Black Jr.?”
He laughs again at the miffed expression. “Suppose not. What was it that your brother called you?” Pausing for dramatic effect. “Reggie?”
“You’re insufferable, Potter.”
“Not the first time I’ve heard that today. I suppose I’ll continue with Regulus for now, until I think of something fun. Now, I’ve spotted Sirius with whom I believe to be the one he was staring at earlier. Shall we investigate?”
Regulus seems reluctant to leave the dance floor, surprising James once again. He hadn’t pegged the boy as one to particularly enjoy dancing. Regardless, they head toward Sirius, who’s most likely doubled the amount of champagne ingested since leaving them.
—
Remus is endlessly entertained.
The handsome boy had introduced himself with a surname that rings bells in Remus’ mind; his father had warned him about the Blacks, but for what reason he cannot for the life of him remember in the face of Sirius Black, tipsy but clumsily attempting to flirt regardless.
“Lupin Lupin Lupin, how come I’ve never seen you around before? Unlikely that I would have missed the opportunity to introduce myself to such a sight.”
“Is that so?” Remus hides his smile behind his glass.
“Why of course! How could I possibly-“ reaching for yet another drink, “neglect your delightful visage?”
“Delightful visage, high praise indeed.” He’s developing a cramp as he struggles to maintain a straight face, sensing that it would hurt Sirius’ feelings if he laughs outright. “I like that,” he nods towards the golden fabric around Sirius’ neck. “Polka dots.”
The small compliment elicits a much brighter response than deserved. “Thank you so very much. Oh you’re wonderful. You just… shine. Not like the sun, no no, I get sunburnt… like the moon!”
“I’d ask you to dance, but I fear you’ve had too much to drink.”
Sirius hurriedly puts away his new glass. “If my prince wishes for a dance then I must oblige!”
Luckily, James chooses this moment to resurface, a sullen looking boy trailing behind him. “Remus, I see you’ve also met Sirius.”
“Indeed I have. He’s been exceptional company.”
“James!” Sirius throws an arm around him, causing the sullen boy to mutter something about not being proper. “My darling! You know this angel here?”
“Remus’ father conducts business with mine, though we’ve also only met tonight.”
“Wonderful! We’ll be inseparable from now on, the three of us!”
“Perhaps four?” Remus interjects, turning to the quiet boy. “I’m Remus Lupin, pleased to make your acquaintance.”
“Regulus Black, likewise.”
“Siblings?”
Sirius throws his other arm around Regulus, much to his evident displeasure. “My baby brother!”
“Sirius, stop it. We should be taking our leave now, you’re far too drunk. I apologise for his behaviour, Mr Lupin.”
“Remus, please.”
“Remus.” Regulus sends him a polite smile, starting to pull Sirius away from where he’s clinging onto James’ arm. “We’ll be on our way then. Sirius please, we need to thank the hosts before we leave.”
James extracts his arm from the limbs of the unwilling octopus. “He’s right Sirius, I’ll be taking my leave soon as well. Besides, aren’t you but down the road? We’ll visit, put our summer plans into action.”
That appeases Sirius enough for Regulus to finally pull him away. “Good night then, James, Remus.” He nods before exiting, Sirius in tow.
Remus shares a mirthful look with James. “The Black brothers are interesting company, eh?”
James drains the last of his champagne. “They certainly are.”