Chapter Text
Regulus liked to think that he was angry at Sirius, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t even disappointed, he had just hoped that maybe, for once, he could prove to everyone, including himself, that he was strong enough on his own. He also liked to think that he hadn’t forgotten to take a glass of water with him out of the kitchen when he went back upstairs. Because as of right now, he was really thirsty, but he had to hold a grudge. He couldn’t show his face until someone asked him to. And as if the Gods heard his thoughts, he heard a knock on his bedroom door. “Yes?” he asked the mystery person on the other side of the door.
The door slowly opened and James’ head curiously appeared through the crack of the door. “Hey,” he said in a calm voice while stepping into the room and closing the door behind him with his foot. In his hands was a tray. Regulus quickly closed his sketchbook when James walked toward him to put the tray down. Regulus gave it a quick look and saw a glass of water, a delicious looking chocolate chip cookie and an envelope with his name written on it.
“Thank you,” Regulus said, deciding to ignore the envelope. He took a big sip of water before putting the glass back down.
“You’re welcome,” Regulus thought this was the end of the conversation, but James seemed to have another opinion, as he wouldn’t leave the room.
Regulus knew he couldn’t exactly tell James to leave, because he was in his own house and he had every right to stand inside of the room Regulus was staying in. So Regulus stayed quiet, he hated small talk even more than that he hated deep conversations.
“I actually wanted to ask you something,” James broke the silence.
“Okay, go on.”
“I was just wondering why you won’t let Sirius care about you?”
So he wanted to know Regulus’ entire background story. The young boy didn’t know how to answer James, because he didn’t want to spill anything, but he also didn’t not want to say anything, so he decided on something in between the two. “I’m not sure,” it was partially true.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Okay?” Regulus said in confusion. “Look, Potter, I don’t know what you want me to say, so maybe if you could be a little more clear, that would really help.”
“I would like to hear the truth, Reg. If you don’t want to share that with me, then that’s fine, I can’t command you to share your deepest emotions with me, but… I don’t know, wouldn’t it be refreshing to let go of some of your worries?”
It actually would be refreshing, but it would also give Regulus new worries, because what if James decided to tell someone else everything? What if James wasn’t careful with Regulus' thoughts? “Why would I tell you ?”
Regulus’ eyes stayed on James while he thought of a fitting response to Regulus' question. His thick eyebrows had an almost invisible line between them and his lips were pressed together just a little more than normal. “Because I am willing to pinky promise to not have an opinion on any of the things you are willing to tell me.”
“You can’t choose if you have an opinion on something, Potter, having an opinion comes natural to humans,” Regulus replied smartly.
James shook his head. “No, I do know for sure that I won’t think anything about your feelings, Reg, because they are feelings. And I will never judge anyone for feeling or not feeling certain things. It’s not something you can control, so who am I to tell you that you aren’t a worthy person if you experience situations in your own way?”
He did have a point with this little speech. And what was the worst that could happen? He could spill all of his secrets to Sirius, who would say something about it to Regulus and then he would get mad and that could, potentially, lead to a broken sibling-relationship. But wasn’t their relationship already in pieces? “You have to promise me to never, ever tell anybody, especially Sirius, about any of the things I’m about to tell you, understand?”
James nodded formally and extended his pinky finger. “Pinky promise,” Regulus looked at him in confusion. “Wait, you don’t know pinky promise? Merlin’s beard, Reg, you hook your pinky finger around mine like this,” James took Regulus’ right hand in his and hooked the pinkies around each other. Regulus was a little bit shocked by the sudden contact between him and the other boy. It felt kind of nice, safe even. And warm, it felt so incredibly warm. “And then I say ‘I pinky promise to never, ever tell anybody, especially Sirius, about any of the things you’re about to tell me and I’ll treat your secrets like they’re my own’ and now, if I break the promise, I’m the worst person in the history of people.” If Regulus was completely honest, he thought it was actually a really sweet and pure gesture, but he still felt like he should keep his walls up, even when he was about to tell this boy how he felt.
Regulus just nodded while taking back his pinky finger. It still felt a little tingly from the contact, but he tried acting as cool and nonchalant as possible in such a situation. “I need to prove myself.”
James really wanted to understand that, but he didn’t. “What do you mean?” He asked while walking backwards, sitting down on the edge of Regulus’ bed.
“I need to know that I am strong enough on my own, that I don’t need some sort of guardian angel who makes sure nothing bad happens to me.”
“You see Sirius as your guardian angel?” James thought a bit about these words, liking the way ‘angel’ rolled off his tongue.
“I think Sirius sees himself as my guardian angel. But he isn’t supposed to be and I don’t want him to be, I want him as my brother.”
“Regulus, if I’m allowed to have any say in this, I think Sirius thinks that being an older brother is a bit like being a guardian angel. He’s only trying to protect you.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, he wasn’t stupid. “I know he is, and that’s the problem. He shouldn’t only be trying to protect me, he should be trying to treat me as a normal brother.”
James really did understand him, but he also understood Sirius. At grimmauld place, protecting Regulus from their parents was Sirius’ one and only goal. That Sirius couldn’t manage to let that feeling of protection go wasn’t really that weird, but Regulus did really seem to find it incredibly annoying.
“He doesn’t know how to be one, maybe you should teach him.”
“I’m not going to teach him how to be a brother,” Regulus scoffed while rolling his eyes, as if James was the most naive person ever.
There was a short, non-awkward silence before James continued the conversation. “So if I get it right, you feel like you need to know for sure that you can survive on your own, without anyone else, to feel at peace with yourself?”
Regulus couldn’t have worded it any better. “Yes,” it felt like a heavy confession.
“But you do know that Sirius does really love you, right?”
Regulus shook his head and led out a sigh. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe that Sirius loved him, it was more that he was afraid that Sirius only loved the version he knew Regulus as. Because Regulus normally only showed the parts of himself that he wants people to know, he didn’t really understand why he was telling James all of the private things going on in his life, but he didn’t really feel that bad about it. “I know he loves me, but there’s a very thin line between love and hate, and Merlin knows how easy it is to step over that line,” the words left Regulus’ mouth before he had chosen them carefully. Something he always does, no matter the situation. But right now, it felt okay to be vulnerable, a feeling Regulus has never had before.
This definitely wasn’t James doing, though. Regulus just needed to vent and James was willing to listen to him. “No, Regulus, love isn’t close to any other emotion, especially not to hate. Once you love someone, you will never not love them. Tell me, do you love your parents?”
No, Regulus hated his parents. But he won’t lie, he kind of missed them. He didn’t miss that he always needed to walk silently or that he never knew what version of his mother he would get that day, but they were still his parents. They were still the reason that Regulus was who he was. So did he love them? “I don’t know.”
“Well, I know for sure that your brother loves you and that he’ll never stop loving you, he’s as loyal as a dog, so don’t worry about losing him. You survived so much together, Regulus, he knows better than to lose you over a few inconveniences. Especially since they are probably nonexistent for him anyway,” and James had a point, again, because he was telling the truth.
That’s when Regulus realised what he’d just told James. He turned around so his back was facing James. He looked down toward his closed sketchbook. He had been drawing a tiny cat, curled up, lying on a big couch, closed off to the world, before James had come in. Regulus wished he was that cat, no one knowing any of his business. But now he was laying on his back, exposed and vulnerable to the world. He wasn’t sure if James had manipulated him or if he really got to this point on his own.
“So, I guess I’ll go,” James began talking while standing up from the bed, taking Regulus out of his trail of thoughts. When James didn’t get an answer, he finished his sentence. “I won’t tell Sirius, or anybody for that matter, anything, Reg, your feelings are safe with me.”
“Can you not call me Reg?” Regulus sounded harsh, but he did look over his shoulder and gave James a sort-of smile.
A wide grin spread over Potter's face and when he winked, the youngest Black brother felt his cheeks warm up.
A heavy type of anxiety, cloaked in a costume of irritation, settled into Regulus' chest when James left his room. How on earth had Potter managed to get him open up? He shouldn’t do that, nothing good could happen from spilling his secrets to other people. What if James decided that he wanted Sirius to know, it wasn’t like anything was stopping him from telling his best friend everything. Regulus started to question James’ ability to keep secrets. And was a pinky promise really that serious, or had James used it as some sort of manipulation tool? Regulus hated the feeling of uncertainty. He hated even more that he didn’t have control over who did and did not know how he felt about certain things in his life.
He had talked about his feelings before, but only with Barty. They would trade secrets with one another, a secret for a secret. That way, they would both have the same amount of power - if one of them shared a secret that belonged to the other, the other could do that right back. They never have to, though, because they were very careful with all of the information they had about each other. Their friendship didn’t stand on trust, not really. It was built from the mutual desire to not feel lonely in this world. Alone? Sure, Regulus loved being alone. But no one wishes to be lonely, no one wants to have nobody to breathe with, to talk with, to be alive with. Everybody wants that, but not everybody dares to not be lonely. Regulus usually didn’t dare to not be lonely, it was safer when no one knew you. It was even safer if you didn’t know who you were yourself.
Regulus wasn’t one of the lucky ones that didn’t know who they were, he has always been self conscious. It was a blessing and a curse, he knew exactly how far he could go. He also knew how far he wanted to go. He also knew that with Potter, he didn’t seem like himself, because he had lost all control over how far he went.
He turned back toward the tray with a half-empty glass of water, a still intact chocolate chip cookie that didn’t only look, but also smelled delicious, and the closed envelope with his first name written on it. So James does know what my name is, Regulus thought. He decided that it was best to open the letter now, before he would have the time to overthink it.
Hello Cookiemonster,
Fuck no, what kind of obsession did James have with weird nicknames? And Cookiemonster? Really? The delicious cookie he had just taken a bite of all of a sudden didn’t taste as good as before.
Obviously I’m going to send you a letter back, I like writing them.
I won’t address you with Regulus, because, like I said, I don’t think it fits you.
At this point, not being called Regulus was becoming very, very annoying. It’s not that hard to write the correct letters in the correct order, so why couldn’t Potter just get over it and start acting like a normal person?
You told me not to worry about you or Sirius, but I can’t help it.
It kind of feels like I just finished a long book; my brain was occupied with helping you and your brother since the day I found out about the situation at Grimmauld place.
But now, the feeling of having a purpose just slipped away from me.
Before I find a new goal, my brain will feel empty and fill itself up with old thoughts.
You and Sirius are those old thoughts, so if you don’t mind, I’m going to keep on worrying about you two for a little while longer:)
First of all, Regulus couldn’t imagine James reading a book, let alone feeling empty after finishing it. Besides that, did Potter really think that he saved the Black brothers? Talk about a hero complex. But the weirdest thing about reading this part of the letter, was that Regulus felt the need to reassure the older boy. That it was okay to feel the way that he felt, even though it was stupid and doesn’t really make that much sense.
Enjoy your cookie!
James;)
All of the empathy Regulus had just felt for James melted away like snow in the sun. Regulus felt like he could never eat a cookie ever again without thinking about the stupid nickname he had received at the beginning of this letter.
He let his head fall back before picking up his pencil again. He opened the sketchbook and let his emotions flow through his left arm, from his fingertips into the pencil, onto the paper in front of him. Soft strokes of silver formed another drawing of a cat, this time the cat wasn’t sleeping. The cat was licking itself clean, as if it wanted to wash its sins off of its fur. But the thing about the stuff you feel guilty about, is that they are rooted deeply into one's soul and not easy to wash away.
“Regulus, are you coming downstairs for dinner?” Euphemia’s sweet voice called from the bottom of the stairs.
Regulus woke up from his drawing flow and closed off his sketchbook with a thud before responding to James’ mother. “Yes, I’ll be there in a sec!” yelling just loud enough for her to hear him. He quickly tidied up the desk before moving himself out of the room.
When he stepped into the dining room he stopped himself for a second. In the centre of the room stood a large table with eight chairs around it, but only five of them would be used tonight. Euphemia was busy with putting the food onto the table, which was already neatly set. It was a very homy view and Regulus felt incredibly out of place - these people didn’t see him as family.
James was the first person to notice Regulus standing in the opening of the door. “Reg! Come sit down, aren’t you hungry?” His eyes gleaming in enthusiasm. He looked a little like deer when his eyes were all round and full of life.
Regulus decided to keep up his cold and distant act for tonight, so he just sat down next to Sirius without answering Potter’s - maybe not - rhetorical question.
When Euphemia sat down at the head of the table, as that was the only seat left. “Monty cooked tonight, so it’s going to be awesome.” Sirius whispered like they hadn’t been in a heated discussion just three hours ago. It would always go like this - Sirius and Regulus got into an argument, one of them would walk away, they wouldn’t talk for a certain amount of time and then one of them would break the ice and say something that was in no way linked to the disagreement they’d had.
“So he’s a good cook?” Regulus asked.
“He’s an amazing cook, Reggie.”
“Now, now, Sirius.” Fleamont stepped into the conversation, like it was an easy thing to do. All of the Potters seemed to have the quality to always fit in, no matter what the situation was or what people were involved.
“What? It’s true, Monty. You’re probably such a good cook because you work with potions, hence the precise work.”
He worked with potions? This was new information to Regulus and he was very glad to hear it. It meant that he would have something to talk about with the man who opened his home to the Black brothers, because potions just happened to be Regulus’ speciality in school. “What exactly do you do as a job, Fleamont?”
After telling Regulus that he could name him ‘Monty’, Fleamont started explaining what his job was. To Regulus, it sounded complicated but interesting and he nodded along with the things that Monty explained. “I can show you my study if you’d like,” he then suggested.
“Yes, I would like that very much,” Regulus had answered enthusiastically. James noticed how Regulus' already light eyes were twinkling just a little brighter, how his eyebrows weren’t low on his forehead anymore, how his pink lips were slightly curled up and how his cheeks were a little flushed. He hadn’t seen this version of Regulus before and he would do everything in his power to make Reg experience this type of joy again.
“Maybe wait until after dinner, okay?” Euphemia’s said strictly, but amused. Monty and Regulus both nodded in her direction and went on with eating their dinner, listening to the playful conversation Sirius and James were having.
“Boys, wouldn’t you three like to do some shopping tomorrow? Sirius and Regulus really do need some more muggle clothing.” Euphimia interrupted them after a couple of minutes full of childish chatter.
She did have a point, Regulus didn’t have that many muggle clothes and he hadn’t even taken all of it with him. And the idea actually seemed kind of nice, to just stroll through muggle London for a couple of hours, walking into shops, looking around to see if there are any nice products to buy, blocking out whatever conversation his brother was having with his best friend.
“We’re going to have so much fun, right, Reggie?” Sirius asked him, helping his younger brother out of his trail of thoughts.
“Yes, at what time are we leaving?”
Sirius and James shared a quick look of pleasant surprise, they obviously didn’t expect Regulus to actually want to participate in this plan, because it was very social. But Regulus was secretly planning to skip the social part of this outing.
“At around 10.30AM?” James asked.
The Black brothers nodded in unison, always different but always the same.