Chapter Text
James's hand shoots out before he can stop it, grasping the man's shoulder and turning him slightly. His voice comes out quieter than he means as he asks, "Cassie? Is that you?"
The black-haired man's lips curl into a wry smile, "What? Do I look like your girlfriend?"
James shakes his head, eyes wide as he searches the man's face. "No, my friend's late sister. I can't believe it—you could be her twin…" He swallows hard. "Your face, your eyes… just your hair is different. And you're older."
The not-twin rolls his eyes. "My name is Regulus. I don't look like a ghost, do I?" He reaches out and places a hand on James's chest. "See? Warm."
James stumbles back, heart beating faster. "Sorry. I… got confused."
Before Regulus can respond, James slips into the crowd, fighting the knot of something unnamed tightening in his chest.
He lingers at the edges of the bar, watching from a distance. The not-Cassie frowns as he turns back to his drink, taking a few sips before heading to a table to join two men and a woman.
James pulls out his camera without really thinking, raising it quietly.
Through the lens, he captures Regulus's smile, the way he toys with his hair, the flicker of annoyance crossing his face. The camera feels like a shield—a way to hold onto something real while everything else spins out of control.
He doesn't know how many pictures he's taken when a figure steps in the way of his lens.
A tall bartender with white hair leans down, his voice low but firm. "I think it's time for you to leave."
James nods, mutters an apology, and leaves without argument, not wanting to draw attention.
Back in his car, the glow of the screen feels like a lifeline as he scrolls through the photos he's taken.
He stops on an old picture of Cassie, Sirius, and himself, taken years ago—before everything fell apart.
Her pale face, her shy grey eyes, press on him in a way that's almost painful.
He flicks back to the new photos. Regulus looks so much like her it hurts.
The bar door slams open, and a group spills out, stumbling and laughing.
Regulus leans on a tall, dark-haired man, clutching his arm for support.
James rolls down his window despite the small voice in his head telling him he's crossing a line.
The blonde woman offers rides, but no one wants one. She hugs Regulus and walks away.
A tall, tanned man with dirty blonde hair sighs and says he has to work early. Regulus and the dark-haired man both pout at him and call him boring, trying to convince him to stay out later, but he leaves.
"Bye, Evan! See you Tuesday," Regulus calls after him.
The dark-haired man lights a cigarette, offers it to Regulus, who smiles easily and takes a slow drag from it.
"Mm, we should have fun at my place," Regulus says after a moment, his words slurring.
The other man barks a laugh as he pulls out his phone, tapping away at the screen. "Jesus, you're always a slut when you drink. Isn't your dad home?"
Regulus squints at the phone, "Not tonight. Some stupid work thing. He'll be gone until tomorrow."
The other man reads an address out loud. James forces himself not to memorize it.
"That's your dad's new place, right? I'm getting an Uber."
Regulus pouts, tugging on the man's arm. "Come on, it's been a while. Is the infamous Barty Crouch seeing someone without telling me?"
"Me? Going steady? That would be depriving the masses of my lovely hands and tongue," Barty jokes with a suggestive eyebrow wiggle.
James's hands tighten on the steering wheel, a small, bitter ache settling low in his chest.
A car slowly pulls up. Both men climb in.
James fights the urge to follow. Instead, he starts the engine and drives away—toward home, haunted by the feeling he's chasing something he'll never catch.