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Chapter Text

This is going to be a long year.

Regulus thought as he stared into his empty mug silently, willing more coffee to appear. He was dimly aware of the clock that clicked faintly in the distance, reminding him of what was awaiting him that day: a new season. It would be his seventh year owning his dance school: Black Dance Academy. Ten years since his retirement from Staatsballett Berlin, nine years since— Well, he didn’t want to think about that on this particular morning.

A new season, and, yes, he was excited to return to teaching. He loved teaching, especially with his best friend, Pandora Rosier, who happened to be faculty at the academy. However, he couldn’t help but feel the nervous jitters as he always did on the first day of the year. On top of that, he had a sickly intuition that this year was going to be different. Most of his students would be returning, plus the addition of one more. His nephew, Teddy Lupin. Which was fine. Really, it’s fine. Only he hadn’t spoken to his brother since his birthday, and hadn’t seen him in months. It’s not that they were on bad terms or estranged from one another, only that they live very different lives. Sirius was happily married with a twelve-year-old kid, whereas Regulus was perpetually alone and slightly mentally unstable. To say the least, Regulus still hadn’t figured out his life, and well, his brother? His brother was perfect in every way.

And that made Regulus very nervous.

Sighing heavily, Regulus unfurled himself from his window seat to place his mug in the sink and begin to get ready for the day. But first and foremost, he needed to make a very important call.
The phone rang only twice before,

“Reggie!!!” a small voice squealed from the other end of the line.

“Why good morning, petite étoile!” Regulus greeted his youngest cousin Carina. “How are you doing this morning?”

“I’m well. Hey, guess what! Mum says that I can come with Draco to the studio today to watch class. I’m still waiting for the day you let me play for ballet class!” Carina spoke excitedly.

Carina was a very talented pianist. Being only 11 years old, many would consider her a prodigy. She had told Regulus many times she dreamed of being an accompanist for a ballet company, and he fully believed that she would accomplish that someday.

“Maybe soon, little one, but as you know, it’s a very unique and difficult skill. For now, what’s best for you is to watch our classes and learn through observation.”

Carina grumbled through the phone, and Regulus felt a chuckle slip out of him. “You’ve been saying that for years, Reggie!”

“Yes, and you know I’m right,” he said gently. “Carina, darling, do you mind handing the phone to your mum?”

“Sure. I love you, Reggie!”

“Love you, Rina.”

There was some shuffling on the other side of the line before, “Regulus?” Narcissa’s voice came through, soft and as comforting as ever.

“Good morning, cousin.” Regulus heard his voice soften. Narcissa had always been his favorite family member, being the most sensible in a very nonsensical family.

“Good morning. Are you alright?”

“Hm? Yeah– yes. Why wouldn’t I be?” Regulus heard himself stammer and immediately cringed at himself. He could practically hear the look on Narcissa’s face.

“You know why, but if you don’t wish to talk about it, we won’t,” she said matter-of-factly. “Draco is excited for the season to start up again. Though I think he’s getting anxious as he gets older. You know how it goes, all the pressure to get into a company by the time you’re 18.”

Regulus did know. He remembered the pressure all too well. With dance, there is only a short window before a dancer is considered too old to be hired. Generally speaking, the younger you are, the more desirable.

“Draco will be just fine. He has several years still. Have him talk to Nymphadora. She’s always been able to put things into perspective for him,” Regulus advised.

Narcissa sighed on the other end. “Yes, I know, but I worry. I don’t want Andromeda to get in his hair. You know how she is. Such a helicopter aunt.”

Regulus chuckled simply because Narcissa was a helicopter mother. It was just their nature, the three sisters. They all were intensely protective of those they loved.

“Andy means well and you know it, Cissa,” he said. “She believes it’s her job to be overbearing.”

“Yes, yes, I know,” she droned. “Anyway, did you need to talk about something?”

Regulus hesitated before, “No. Just wanted to say good morning to my favorite cousin,” he lowered his voice as if it was a secret.

“Please say you’re not going sappy on me. I can’t deal with another Sirius,” she teased. Despite the joking tone, Regulus felt himself tense at the comparison. “You’re my favorite too, Regulus.”

“I know,” he murmured. “Okay, I’ll see you later today, Cissa.”

“Alright. Je t'aime.”

“Je t'aime aussi.”

The drive to the studio felt shorter than in actuality, as Regulus found himself dissociating along to his music. When he pulled into the parking lot, he realized something was off. Through one of the windows, he could see a persistent light shining.

Hesitantly, he got his bags and exited the car, locking it behind him, before walking to the front door. He sliped the key into the lock and tried to turn it to the left, discovering the door to already be unlocked. Regulus froze in place.

Now there were two possibilities here, Regulus had decided.

1.) Someone had broken into his studio and was waiting inside with some sort of weapon.

2.) Someone had broken into his studio and robbed him blind.

Either way, he was scared shitless.

Quietly, he swung the door open, looking around in the lobby. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow move, and a yelp startled out of him.

“Good morning, baby cousin,” a shrill voice chirped. A voice that could only belong to one person— His slightly psychotic and certainly deranged cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange.

“Christ, Bellatrix! Fucking hell, did you break into my studio?” Regulus demanded, shutting the door behind himself, unable to feel any relief for the anger flooding his chest.

“Ooh, sorry. I didn’t think you’d mind.” Bellatrix chuckled before stepping forward to envelop Regulus in a hug. She patted the curls on the top of his head patronizingly with her free hand.

“What in the hell are you doing here, Bella?” Regulus grumbled and pushed her away from himself with a glare.

Regulus watched his cousin carefully as she shrugged nonchalantly, wandering into one of the studios adjacent to the reception desk. “Bellatrix,” he demanded before he droped his bags and followed her into the dark room. “Bella!”

Bellatrix turned to Regulus with a manic grin on her face, and Regulus couldn’t help but think that his day was about to be ruined. Bellatrix had a history of doing such— ruining his days, that is. Bella had always been impossible to be around, insufferably pestering. Similar to Sirius, she had never been told no a single day in her life, causing her to be a perpetual narcissist with a god complex. In Regulus’ opinion, something about being the eldest sibling turns a person into somewhat of a manifestation of a demon.

“I have a proposition, Reggie,” Bellatrix sang-songed, and Regulus had to resist smashing his head into the wall at the sound of his childhood nickname on Bella’s tongue. “It is an idea that will be mutually beneficial for us both.” She waged her eyebrows distastefully.

Regulus crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the barre, minimally interested. “I doubt that, but go on.”

“A documentary.”

There was a beat of silence, as Regulus balked before saying, “I’m sorry, I don’t follow.”

“Well as your big cousin, I have a sacred duty to help you where I can. And, don’t kill me when I say this, but I was speaking with some producers and agencies—”

“No,” Regulus interrupted.

“And, well, your studio has been gaining a lot of traction on social media for its success. I mean, Reg, your students go on to do great things. Nymphadora is a Rockette now—”

“Ugh, please, God, tell me this isn’t happening.”

“And all of the reviews are talking about you as being her uncle and dance teacher! Everyone wants to hear from you. You don’t get the luxury of silence when you’re the most sought-after teacher in the area!”

“Bella.”

“Regulus,” she grinned.

Regulus sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “What on earth have you done and why are you buttering me up?”

Regulus watched as Bellatrix locked her hands behind her back and batted her eyelashes at him. “Well, I may have or may not have told Rita and Delores that you were hoping to document your legacy in some way, and they suggested that we get a team together to create a documentary about your academy.”

Regulus stared at Bellatrix for several moments before turning on his heel to walk out of the studio and into the lobby. He sat down behind the desk and placed his face in his hands. He did not need this in his life. In fact, he thought, his worst nightmare is having a bunch of cameras shoved in his face, violating his privacy. He especially didn’t need this with his brother waltzing back into his life like the diva he is. This was a terrible idea.

“Cousin, it’s a good idea I—”

“Shut up, Bellatrix,” Regulus snapped as he looked up at her startled face. The silence stretched on for several minutes before, “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

“The world wants to hear from you. You were the most beloved dancer of your time— Principal at Staatsballett, heart throb of the industry!”

“Oh my god, don’t say that. That’s so embarrassing.”

“It’s only true, Reggie! You were the best of the best, and no one has heard from you in years! Not since your—”

“Okay, enough!” Regulus interrupted, huffing. “Fine, Bella. Fine, I’ll do it.”

Bellatrix beamed. “Realy?”

Regulus cringed at her excitement, needing to look away so as not to get angry with her. “Yes. Don’t make me regret it.”
Bellatrix ran over and kissed him on the top of the head before he could push her off of him.

This is going to be a long year.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, Regulus could not get his cousin to leave no matter his desperate attempts. It had been hours of him trying and failing to get his work done— going as far as feigning headaches and straight up walking away from Bellatrix, but somehow she either had not gotten the hint or simply did not care. Regulus thought it was probably the latter. 

In the past hour alone, Regulus had heard about Bellatrix’s secret contempt for her coworker Delores Umbridge, graphic depictions of her sex life with her obnoxiously misogynistic husband, Rodoplphus, and her current bickerings with her sisters (which include but are not limited to: Andromeda accusing her of stealing from her personal library, Narcissa’s insistence that she babysit Carina despite her being old enough to be home alone, Bellatrix believing that Ted, Andromeda’s husband, is “a spineless bastard”, and their collective refusal to call their mother). 

Regulus hadn’t spoken a single word the entire time. 

He found himself tuning his older cousin out, having grown bored of her manic ramblings, to think about this documentary she was subjecting him to. Not only did he truly believe this to be a completely terrible idea for a myriad of reasons, he also didn’t particularly want to deal with this for the entire year. Generally speaking, he could only take Bellatrix in small doses— at family dinners, holidays, birthdays, occasionally over a phone call. He had always found her to be extraordinarily overwhelming, seeing as though she happened to be the antithesis of his entire existence. Where Bellatrix is bold and forthcoming, Regulus retreats into himself, forever the silenced one. In fact, he thought, perhaps Bella should just make a documentary about herself. He’s sure she would enjoy that much more. 

Regulus’ thoughts were interrupted by the chime of the bell, followed by the chattering that must only mean one thing: his students are beginning to arrive. Fantastic , he thought. I haven’t gotten any of the work done I was supposed to.

Regulus jolted as he heard Bellatrix’s dramatized gasp and finally looked in her direction.

“Sirius!!” she squealed in that annoying voice of hers, causing Sirius to instinctively cringe. Following Sirius was his husband, Remus, and his son, Teddy, looking slightly apprehensive. 

“Hi, Bella,” Sirius beamed, but Regulus didn’t miss the tension in his brother’s smile. The two of them always painfully in tune with each other. Sirius glanced over at Regulus.  “I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

“Well, I had to come by and surprise Baby Black.” She moved to ruffle Regulus’ hair, but he swiftly avoided her, fully exhausted of her antics by then. 

“Hi, Sirius,” Regulus mumbled, walking over to hug his big brother, excited to see him despite himself. Sirius’ arms wrapped around him, and he felt something click into place, the other half of him. Home, home, home, his heart chants.

Slowly, he stepped back and looked at Remus and Teddy, not missing how Sirius’s hand lingered on his shoulder. “Hi, Remus. Teddy.” 

Teddy waved up at Regulus awkwardly before saying, “Hi, Uncle Reggie.” 

Remus found Regulus’ eyes, smiling gently. “He’s a little nervous for his first day, I think,” he explained and stepped forward to hug Regulus. It was a swift embrace, but not at all awkward. Regulus had actually grown quite fond of Remus. They had always gotten along rather well, bonding over their contempt for small talk at social gatherings they had been dragged to by Sirius. 

“ Dad, ” Teddy scorned, a pink flush rising on his cheeks, clearly appalled. 

Regulus moved closer to Teddy, ducking his head a bit before saying, “It’s okay if you are. I am too.” 

Teddy’s bright blue eyes flashed up, searching for the truth in Regulus’ grey ones. “Really?” he whispered. 

Regulus nodded. “We can be nervous together, yeah?” Teddy wrapped his arms around Regulus’ middle and squeezed tight. He returned the hug easily, a sense of pride filling his chest. “Alright, now go with your dad to get ready for class, okay?” 

Teddy nodded and followed Remus to the dressing room. Regulus didn’t miss the “thank you” Remus mouthed over his son’s head and felt a blush rise on his cheeks. 

“Well,” Bellatrix’s shrill voice interrupted the silence, “How precious was that.” 

Sirius found Regulus’ eyes quickly before he said, “Bella, as lovely as it is to see you, I do need to speak with my brother.”

“Oh, no worries. I’ll just go chat with Pandora, I’m sure she’ll be here any minute.” Bellatrix began to move to the office in the back, but Regulus, in a panic, reached out to grab her wrist.

“Leave,” he said a little too sharply. “Sirius is saying it is time for you to leave.” 

Bellatrix looked startled as she retreated into herself, and Regulus couldn’t help but feel a little guilty at his harshness. Sirius, however, did not seem to care if his snickering was any indication. 

Bellatrix recovered quickly and grabbed her bag, kissing both of her cousins on the cheeks. “Alright, Reggie. I’ll see you tomorrow!” 

“Bella—” Regulus tried his best to remedy the situation, but his cousin was already out the door. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding and collapsed into his chair, forgetting his brother’s presence altogether. 

“Reg, are you alright?” the proximity of Sirius’ voice startled him— looking up, he found Sirius standing in front of him, arms crossed over his chest. “Why was Bella here?” 

Regulus felt himself cringe despite himself. This was why he was dreading having Sirius around all the time: The overbearing, protective, big brother act. It was painfully obvious that Sirius believed Regulus to be fragile. 

“I’m fine, Sirius,” Regulus grumbled a response. 

“It’s not happening again is it? You’re not—” 

Regulus interrupted him before he could even begin to finish his thought— “Sirius! I’m fine. I’m fine. ” 

At that, Sirius visibly retreated into himself, a huff billowing his hair away from his face, and Regulus couldn’t help but feel immensely guilty. Sirius deserved it, though, he reasoned. His big brother had never had full faith in him, always prying where he shouldn’t and treating Regulus like a baby bird. It was what Regulus hated most about his brother. 

Or about himself…

Well. 

“Bella wants to create a documentary about me,” Regulus explained, looking back to a pitiful-looking Sirius. “Sirius, don’t pout. It’s a bad look for you,” he added.

Sirius made an indignant, throaty noise and turned his face away to ignore Regulus’ snide comment. Regulus could feel the tension rising in the air— the two brothers barely avoiding colossal damage. 

Sirius gritted his teeth. “Well, did you agree to it?” he said. 

“Well, she didn’t give me much of a choice. Her mind was decided before she even bothered to think of me. You know how she is.” Regulus stood to busy himself, beginning to grow uncomfortable under Sirius’s gaze— his silver eyes bore into Regulus’s frame and analyzed every movement. Every breath. Sirius was measuring how close Regulus was to failure, and he could feel it like sap on his bones.

Fed up, Regulus quipped, “You look like Maman right now.”

And before the sentence fully left his mouth, Regulus regretted everything about their entire conversation. He watched Sirius’s demeanor harden to guard the tears that sprang up in his eyes, and retreated into himself, aware of the damage he had caused. 

“Fine, Regulus. Okay.” He threw his hands up. “I’ll leave you alone. I’m done taking care of you when you don’t want it.” 

“Sirius— I. Wait.” Regulus reached for Sirius as he walked away, following wherever Remus and Teddy had gone a few minutes prior. “God damnit.” 

-

Sirius had been excited to see Regulus when he got up that morning. Remus had watched as he flittered around the house, making breakfast for Teddy an hour too early, changing his outfit at least four times, brushing his hair over and over and over again. It had been sweet. Sirius’s secret, childlike giddiness to see his baby brother. It was rare to see him so optimistic, so bright, when it came to Regulus. And Remus cherished it. 

So when Sirius walked into the parent lounge with his jaw set and his eyes red, Remus was ready to murder Regulus for destroying whatever hope there had been nestled inside Sirius’ chest. 

“Sirius,” Remus felt the air punch out of him as he ran to envelop Sirius, who in turn clung to Remus with a certain desperation. 

“I tried.” When his voice came out it was strained. “I thought I was doing everything right, but he always just shoves me away. I don’t know what I did wrong— What I do wro–” 

“Sirius,” Remus found himself repeating, always at a loss for words when it came to the Black brothers. Never truly understanding what it was like, the complex layers of trauma that divided them like a plaster-made wall. 

“He’s so small , Moony,” Sirius insisted, pushing himself away from Remus to look at him. His eyes were erratic from worry. Wide. “I just— Every time I look at him, it’s- it’s like I can still see him as he was when we were kids. He was always so small, y’know, and it was my job to take care of him. It is my job.” 

Slowly, Remus reached for Sirius’s waving hands and took them in his own. He inhaled deeply and watched as Sirius faltered, beginning to unwind himself. 

“Sirius,” Remus started again, “I say this with so much love and care… Regulus is a grown ass man that can handle himself.” 

At that, Sirius huffed out a laugh and offered Remus a smile. Remus returned it easily, bending down to kiss his husband's knuckles gingerly. 

“How’s Teddy doing?” Sirius asked, looking around the room to spot his son. Remus admired the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, unable to resist brushing his thumb over them, and when their eyes met, he felt a smile form on his lips. “Moony?”

“He’s alright, I think,” Remus jolted out of his daze. “He’s in the locker room. Wanted some quiet.” 

Sirius hummed in understanding. “I really think this will be good for him. Giving him something to do outside of school, y’know.” He ran a hand through his hair. “He reminds me of Regulus when he was young— the two of them will be good for each other.” 

“It’s still hard for me to picture Regulus at Teddy’s age, let alone being anything like him,” Remus mused. 

“But I believe you,” he added at seeing Sirius’ drawn expression, and pressed a kiss to his lips. He felt Sirius lean into him, and when he pulled away, his husband's eyes were still closed. He would never tire of kissing Sirius. Never tire of the way Sirius, harsh, closed off, tense Sirius, melted in his arms. It was his greatest joy in life. 

“I love you, Pads,” he whispered, without thinking. 

“I love you, too,” Sirius returned just as easily. 

The two men turned at the sound of the door unlatching and found their son hovering in the entrance. They remained entangled, but opened an arm to gesture for Teddy to join them. 

“You two are so gross,” he spoke in a voice so annoyed only a teenager could achieve, but, nonetheless, he walked over to hug his dads, burying his face between their chests.

-

James determined that Lily was having a bad day when she refused her morning coffee. 

“You never refuse coffee!” he had insisted, only for her to push the mug away and continue staring out the window distastefully. 

She would get this way sometimes. Where her entire life would be put on hold, as if she hardly believed anything was worthwhile, including breathing. It scared James at first, watching her fall into these moods where she became untouchable. He tried everything in those first few months of knowing her— he held her hand, brought her food, read to her, played her favorite music, anything just to get her to so much as look at him. To come back to reality. But nothing ever worked. 

When they moved in together years ago, Lily explained these episodes to James. She called it derealization, one of many symptoms she got from her Depressive Disorder. She said it felt like everything was far away— that she was untouchable. Locked in a glass cage , she had said. When she got like this, she explained, nothing mattered. Nothing was existential, and she lost meaning. 

At the time, she said nothing helped, but after nearly ten years of marriage, James knew what to do on these days. 

So, when Lily refused her coffee that morning, James took it upstairs to Harry, who would appreciate the surprise when he woke, and returned to his wife’s side to wrap his arms around her and let her cry. 

They remained like that until James heard Harry’s footsteps on the creaky stairs. Seeing his mum like this wasn’t new to Harry. In fact, Harry was quite used to having an unconventional family. 

Harry was quite a miracle, really— being Lily’s biological nephew, he had always been in her life. Lily was only 15 when Harry was born into the wrong family. Petunia, Lily’s sister, had followed in their mother's footsteps, marrying the wrong man. Lily saw herself in Harry when he was a young boy— bruises covering his small body, cold skin, too-thin frame. By the time Harry was three, Lily contacted the NSPCC to remove him from her sister’s care. He was moved into the foster system, and Lily fought for custody as soon as she turned 18. 

Ultimately, that’s how James came into the picture. Being Lily’s best friend, he saw that the government wouldn’t hand Harry over to a young, unmarried woman still in school, even if she was his family. So they got married. In every sense of the word, they act as husband and wife: They live together, have a marriage license, present as a couple in public, but they simply are not. 

James supposed they were weird like that. Best friends for nearly 20 years and not once had they developed feelings for each other. They loved each other so deeply— something beyond romantic or sexual— and they couldn’t imagine their lives without the other. They loved each other in their own way, and it was special. 

So when Harry was adopted at six years old, he came into a very unconventional family. A family built on friendship and necessity. A house full of love, no question, but a house that looked like none of the other kids in his classes. A mother, who was actually an aunt (though Harry would never know that), with immense amounts of trauma, a father who was his mother’s best friend and slept in a different bed, and himself, a boy who had so much taken from him at such a young age.

James smiled up at Harry when he arrived in the living room, looking perfectly ruffled in Lily’s sweatshirt, holding his mug close to his chest.

“G’morning, Dad,” he mumbled, rubbing his eye with his free hand. “Is Mum alright? Bad day?” 

James nodded as Harry walked over to sit on the other side of Lily. “She’ll be alright,” he reassured, watching as Harry planted a kiss on his mum’s temple.

“I know,” he said. “Good morning, Mum. You’re alright.” 

At that, Lily shifted, as if Harry pulled her out of her own mind. She wiped her face harshly and turned to him. “Hi, darling,” she strained, forcing a smile onto her face and reaching for James’ hand. 

Yeah, James thought, Harry is our little miracle.  

He gave Lily’s hand three squeezes, I love you , it meant. She squeezed back. 

“You guys want some breakfast?” James asked. “We’ve got about two hours before Harry needs to get to the studio.” 

“I can make it,” Harry offered, already standing, ready to help wherever he could, but James held out his hand to stop him. 

“You stay with your mum,” he ordered, and moved to begin breakfast. 

Harry and Lily had always been that way— understanding each other in a way James couldn’t. Though Harry didn’t remember much of his early childhood, he and Lily shared certain atrocities James could hardly even fathom. James grew up with the best parents he could have ever asked for, sheltered from the cruelties of the world. Then he had met Lily. And after Lily, Sirius and Regulus. And after them, Harry. And slowly, day after day, as he swore to protect each and every one of them, his perception of people shattered and fragmented into something much darker than it once was. 

-

After Sirius stormed out, Regulus found himself in the smallest dance studio with HIT ME HARD AND SOFT playing through the speakers. At first, he just meant to lie on his back, reground himself, and then go and apologize to his brother. But by the time “THE GREATEST” began playing, Regulus found himself on his feet, dancing. 

It made sense, he supposed. Dance had always been his therapy— it was where he went when his parents made him feel suffocated, when he was anxious, when Sirius and he fought, when he was happy. Any time, really. 

But that had all stopped abruptly 10 years ago. 10 years ago, when his entire life changed— when his body finally failed him and his mind gave up. For the past 10 years, dancing for himself only hurt him, reminded him of his failures, of his struggles, of his hospitalizations. 

So when he found himself dancing so mindlessly, so full of emotion on that September day, he was shocked to breathlessness. 

“I loved you

And I still do

Just wanted passion from you

Just wanted what I gave you

I waited

And waited”

Regulus froze on his spot when her heard the doorbell chime, scrambling to pause the music. He had been so caught up in dancing that he forgot students would be arriving. Forgot to do his own job . He snatched his phone up and swung around the door frame to enter the lobby, coming face to face with a man he didn’t know. 

Only he looked familiar, Regulus realized. His dark skin and messy curls echoed a memory in the back of his mind. One that was 10 years old and buried deep within himself. One that he tried so desperately to repress. It was only when the man’s eyes widened in a sort of shocked recognition that Regulus remembered who he was. 

James Potter. The paramedic who saved his life.

Chapter Text

When James got the call, it hadn’t been unusual. Standard. Young male– early 20s, in distress (chest pain). He had been trained for calls like these— taught that oftentimes the caller was simply having an anxiety attack. You went in, did what you could to calm them down, and left once you gave them the resources they needed. 

Sure, he hadn’t had the job long. Sure, he was one of the youngest on the force. Sure, he still got the jitters whenever he was on shift. But he knew he could handle this. 

Besides, his EMT that evening was Frank, and if he were to need any extra support, Frank was the person he wanted to be there. 

They pulled up to the curb outside the building. Unassuming— brown brick, ivy growing along the sides, a green front door— it was a small townhome in Chelsea. 

James clambered out of the ambulance, grabbing his kit, and approached the front door, Frank close behind. 

Frank ended up being the one to knock first: “Paramedics,” he called. 

James strained his ears to hear the usual footsteps approaching the door. He waited. And waited. The silence was deafening.

James knocked again. “Emergency services. We’re coming in.”

At his order, Frank began jimmying the lock with his kit, sliding the card to break open the bolt. He was quick with it, and the door creaked open easily. 

The sight in front of James made his blood run cold. 

The entrance foyer had obviously once been beautiful— ornately carved wood, lush runner, warm lights— but it had all been destroyed. Side tables had been knocked over; there was shattered glass on the floor. 

It didn’t stop there. 

James and Frank rushed into the house, searching for any sign of life. The cabinets in the kitchen were thrown open; picture frames were knocked to the floor; lights were burnt out, and as he went further into the home, the sound of gentle crying grew louder and louder. 

James found him first. 

The bathroom was the worst of it all: pills and empty alcohol bottles were scattered over the floor, blood marked the white tile, mirror shards were in the sink, and lying in the middle of it all, curled in a ball, was a small boy. 

“Frank!” James heard himself scream as he pushed himself to his knees, realizing that this was much more than he was prepared for. Could ever be prepared for. Frank’s footsteps rounded the corner to the bathroom and fell beside James. Always level-headed, Frank sprang into action before James could even process what was in front of him. 

When Frank rolled the boy over, James’s breath left him— it was Sirius. Only no. No, James had seen Sirius that morning, and Sirius lived nowhere near Chelsea. And Sirius wasn’t emaciated like this boy— you couldn’t see his bones. 

“Hey, mate,” Frank spoke, shining his flashlight into the boy’s eyes, checking for dilation. “You with us?”

The boy nodded, fighting through the sobs heaving his chest. “I’m sorry to bother you, I just didn’t know what to do,” he slurred.

“That’s okay. Can you tell us your name?” Frank asked gently. 

As if awoken from a trance, James quickly realized who this must be.

“My name is Regulus Black.” 

-

There was a reason Lily always dropped Harry off at dance. And this was precisely it. 

Okay, so maybe he shouldn’t have sent Harry to Regulus’ academy. Maybe he had been slightly violating GDPR laws. But he wasn’t going to send his son anywhere else. Not when he knew Regulus understood what it was like to struggle like Harry. Not when he knew that he was Sirius’ brother. Not when he knew it was the best training in the area. 

In his defense, in the three years Harry had been training there, Regulus had not seen him once, and with Harry’s last name still legally being Evans, he knew the connection to him wouldn’t be made. 

He had been so careful for the past three years, but when Lily had refused her coffee that morning, he knew he would have to be the one to take Harry to the studio. 

In retrospect, staring into Regulus’ shocked eyes, maybe he should have stayed in the car. But Sirius was there. Sirius was there with Teddy, and he knew they needed him. 

“James?” Regulus’ quiet voice fell out of him, standing there with his phone gripped in his right hand, knuckles white. 

The bell chimed behind James and Harry walked in, pausing at the tension in the air. James felt his son's eyes on him, burning with questions. 

“Uh, hi, Regulus,” he said with an upturn to his voice, waving and walking back to the dressing room. 

“Hi Harry,” Regulus responded, not taking his eyes off of James once which had hardened to stone. “Why–” 

“I’m Lily’s husband,” James blurted out, guilt festering in his bones making his blood run cold. “Harry’s my son.” 

At that, Regulus turned around, a shaking hand running through his hair, and walked out of the room. He was storming down the hallway, away from James without a word. 

If James had half a mind, he would have turned around and went back home. He would have left right then right there, but, as always, he let his heart get the best of him, and began chasing Regulus. 

“Regulus, wait!” he called. 

“Did you know?” James heard Regulus demanding. His voice was shaking, but composed. Not loud at all. He rounded the corner into a lounge area only to see Regulus and Sirius face to face. 

“Regulus? Wha–” Sirius froze seeing James, and a small O formed on his lips. He had been expecting Lily, of course. Not James.

Of course Sirius knew. Sirius knew everything about James. He knew that James saved his brother’s life. He knew that James hadn’t made himself known at the academy. He knew that James tried desperately to respect Regulus’ space. He knew that what James was doing was wrong. 

“James, get out,” Regulus spat. To Sirius, “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie to you,” Sirius paused at Regulus’ expression. “I just… witheld certain things.”

James stepped forward, eyeing Remus across the room who looked prepared to step in at any moment. “Regulus, listen–” 

“No. I’m not listening to you. It was bad enough I knew you two were friends. and I– God, I’m so stupid! I didn’t think you knew, Sirius. I didn’t think you knew he– But it makes sense.” Regulus exhaled shakily. “You never told me Harry is his son. How long have you known he was the one that–” 

“I knew the day you were hospitalized,” Sirius conceded. “James texted me when they found you.” 

James watched Regulus’ entire demeanor crumple in defeat, his face falling into something unreadable. 

“Regulus. I asked him to. I asked him to keep it a secret from you. I wanted to respect your privacy. I didn’t want to hurt you,” James reasoned. Always defending Sirius. 

“If you wanted to respect me, you wouldn’t have told my big brother what I did. If you wanted to keep me from hurting, you shouldn’t have sent your son to be under my care. Potter, I may have known you once upon a time, but you have not been a part of my life for many years and I sure as hell don’t want you waltzing back into it now.” 

“Reg—” 

“No. I won’t hear it.” Regulus turned to leave, and threw over his shoulder, “Nobody follow me.”

-

James Potter visited him in the hospital two days later. 

He walked in with flowers , because of course he did. 

Because he’s James Potter. 

“I promised to come see you,” he had said, hovering in the doorway. “You said you didn’t have anyone…” 

Regulus stared from his bed at the boy in front of him— not much older than he, James was shifting his weight uncomfortably, gripping a dozen yellow daisies with the most helpless puppy dog eyes. 

He didn’t know what to do except laugh.  

“I’m sorry—” James faltered, “I shouldn’t have come. I’ll just–” 

“No, James. Wait,” Regulus stopped him. “I’m sorry, I just can’t believe you’re here.”

Regulus watched as James’s shoulders relaxed as he ran his free hand through his messy hair, blushing. He was sweet— his golden complexion, big brown eyes, black hair falling into his face. He could hardly believe this man saved people's lives for a living. He appeared much too soft for it. 

“Yeah— I… Well, you asked,” he murmured, smiling. 

Regulus found himself laughing again. “Yeah, I guess I did,” he said. “You brought flowers?” 

As if surprised by the bouquet in his own hands, James stared down at them. “Hospitals are grey, I thought maybe they’d help brighten your room,” he explained.

My god, was this boy precious, Regulus couldn’t help thinking. 

“Well, are you going to come in or not?” he asked, gesturing to the chair that had sat empty in the corner of the room. 

James nodded and walked in. He stopped to set the flowers by the sink, pulled the chair up to the bed, and sat down. With him being so close, Regulus lost any semblance of confidence he had before. All of a sudden he was acutely aware of the fact that he was sitting in a hospital bed connected to a million different wires and tubes in a room alone with a complete stranger sitting next to him. 

They both fell silent. 

A knock came at the door followed by a soft voice calling, “Regulus?” 

His nurse, Poppy, walked in. 

“Hi, darling, just here to check your feed,” she said, walking over to the pump on his left side. “I see you have a visitor?” 

“Yes, ma’am, hi. I’m James,” James offered from his right, smiling politely up at Poppy. 

“Well, it’s good to meet you James. I’m Poppy. It’s especially nice to see someone here visiting Regulus. His room has been rather quiet the past few days.” She winked at Regulus and continued fidgeting with the pump. 

“Alright, Regulus, looks like you have about 30 minutes left on this, and you’re due for your heart medication at 2,” she explained, lifting her glasses to look at him. 

“Okay,” he heard himself squeak, suddenly feeling small at any talk of his health. 

“Thank you, Poppy,” James offered with a smile. 

“Can I bring you two anything? Water, ice?” 

“No, thank you.” James shook his head. “Regulus?”

“Uh– No, I’m alright,” Regulus answered, and watched as Poppy left the room, quietly closing the door behind her. 

As soon as she was gone, James stood and walked over to the pole holding Regulus’ IV bags, flicking them. 

“What are they pumping you full of?” James insisted, reading the bags quickly. “Fomepizole, saline, pyridoxine, and atropine? Why are you still on atropine? You don’t–” James looked over to Regulus and stopped. “I’m sorry.” 

“No, no. It’s fine,” Regulus murmured. “I just don’t understand any of this stuff. They just have been poking and prodding at me— I try not to ask questions.” 

James frowned at that and crossed his arms over his chest. “What have they told you? If you don’t mind me asking.” 

Regulus shook his head and watched as James sat back down, clasping his hands between his knees. “They told me that I’ll probably be here for a long time,” he shrugged. “I’m emaciated, they say. My body is shutting down from it. Besides, I have to go through psychiatric evaluations because of— Because…” 

“I know. You don’t have to talk about it,” James offered kindly, and Regulus could feel the tears spring up in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry you had to see all of that. I don’t even know why I called for help— it would’ve been better if I hadn’t.” 

“Don’t say that,” James said fiercely, catching his attention. “I may not know you, Regulus, but I do know you deserve to live a long, healthy life. I’m glad I was the one that got the call.” 

Regulus stared incredulously, beginning to feel painfully raw and vulnerable; as if his chest had been split right down the middle, exposing his ribs. If James wanted, he could reach in and hold his heart. It had been so long since anyone had cared. So long since he had someone to talk to, someone that would sit with him. 

“I meant what I said,” Regulus began, looking away, jaw clenched. “I don’t have anyone. Not anymore.” 

James reached out then, placing his hand over Regulus’. “You have me.” 

-

Harry sat on the floor with his ear pressed to the wall, straining to pick up what his dad and Sirius were saying in the lounge. He knew something was weird— Regulus staring at his dad like he was a ghost, the fast footsteps in the hall, Remus’ loud voice rumbling. 

The only problem was he couldn’t quite make out what anyone was saying, especially Regulus whose voice was perpetually quiet. Occasionally, he’d hear his dad’s voice raise panickedly only for Remus to shush him, or a word or two from Sirius, panicked and rushed. 

Whatever was happening, it was clear the adults didn’t want the kids to know about it. 

“What do you think’s happening?” Teddy broke the silence from behind Harry, startling him. 

“I don’t know,” Harry answered easily. “They clearly don’t want us to know about it though. Maybe Pandora will tell us.” Teddy made a confused face. “Pandora tells us everything . You’ll learn that quickly.” 

“Correction: Pandora tells me everything, and I tell you,” a new voice came from the doorway.

“Hermione!” Harry exclaimed, jumping up to hug his best friend tightly. She returned the embrace easily, squeezing him. 

“What’s got Regulus in a funk?” she asked when they broke, setting her bag down. “He’s in his office pacing.” 

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out,” Harry responded. Then remembering, “Oh! Hermione, this is my cousin Teddy. Teddy, my best friend, Hermione.” 

Hermione stepped forward to shake Teddy’s hand with a smile. “Pleasure. I like your hair!” 

Teddy ran a hand over his head self-consciously. “Oh, thanks. Dad helped me with it.” 

“Sirius or Remus?” she asked absentmindedly, turning to the mirror to begin pinning her hair up into a french twist. 

Teddy made a surprised face, but responded easily, “Sirius.” 

“Checks out,” Hermione chuckled. “I’ve known Harry for years, his only uncles are those two. I knew they had recently adopted one of their placements.” 

“Ah,” Teddy said quietly. “Yeah, that’s me.” 

“Well, welcome to the family,” Hermione said. “And to the studio. You ever danced before?” 

“Hermione,” Harry warned. “This isn’t an interrogation.” 

Teddy laughed at that and moved to sit on the floor. “No, it’s fine, Harry,” he said. “No, I haven’t. I’ve always wanted to, but never got the opportunity. My mum used to take me to the ballet when she was still with us. Dad asked Uncle Reggie if I could try out some classes.” 

“Reggie,” Hermione laughed at the nickname. “That so does not fit him.” 

“Oh, I know,” Harry said. “That’s what Carina calls him too, it’s hilarious.” 

“What about my sister?” Draco drawled from the doorway, waltzing into the room in his usual peacock fashion. 

“Hello, Draco,” Hermione said sweetly, eyeing him through the mirror. “We’re just talking about Regulus’ horrible nicknames.” 

“Ah, yes. My family were all cursed with horrible names, and even worse nicknames, I fear. Except for you,” he eyed Teddy. “Hey, Teddy.” 

“That would be because I was adopted,” he responded smartly. “Is Carina here?” 

Draco nodded, “Yeah, she’s out in the lobby with Regulus and Pandora.”

“Thanks, Draco!” Teddy jumped up and ran out to find his favorite cousin. Since his being adopted, the two had become inseparable. Harry found it really quite sweet, even if he disliked the Malfoys. 

“Whoa, little one,” Luna’s voice chirped, stepping out of the way for Teddy before entering the locker room followed by Neville. “He is speedy.” 

“Hey Luna, Neville,” Harry greeted. 

“Hiya, Harry,” Neville said. “What’s up with your dad? My dad is out there giving him an army level peptalk.” 

“Shiver me timbers,” Draco said under his breath, barely looking up from his phone, perpetually looking down upon the concept of Military service. 

“Draco, cool it,” Luna ordered from her spot next to Hermione in between whispers. Girls, Harry though.

“I actually don’t know. I was trying to figure it out earlier before you guys got here,” Harry reasoned. “What’re they saying?” 

“Ah, I don’t know. Wasn’t paying too much attention.” 

“I’ll just ask mum about it when I get home tonight,” Harry murmured, knowing that his mother could never keep a secret from him. 

One by one, the rest of the students began arriving at the studio. The young Mckinnon-Meadows twins, Rhiannon and Roxanne followed by Marlene on their tail; Eloise arrived with Evan that day, who was scheduled to teach their ballet technique class; Ron dropped off Ginny, not without stopping to give Hermione a kiss and say hi to Harry; Seamus and Dean arrived together, hand in hand; and Pansy strutted in with her sunglasses pushed up in her tangled hair, swinging her newly earned car keys obnoxiously. 

Everyone greeted each other amicably, excited to hear about each other's summers and get started on a new season. Whispers of rumored Nutcracker casting bounced around the studio walls already— thickening the air with anxiety as the dancers stretched and warmed up. 

“Alright, guys, let’s go!” Regulus called from the hallway. “It’s 2 o’clock.” 

Everyone stood, and exited the locker room, filing into their designated studios. The younger dancers followed Pandora into Studio B, and the olders with Regulus and Evan in Studio A. 

Harry eyed the parents watching through the studio window with anxious smiles on their faces, finding his dad who shot him a thumbs up. He smiled easily back at him. 

“Alright dancers,” Regulus said as he clapped his hands together, pulling his own eyes away from the window.

“Welcome to a new season.”