Chapter Text
To the Dark Lord,
I know I will be long dead before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stollen the real horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B
The sky was grey and the air was heavy when Sirius Black knocked on the door to the Potter Family residence. James Potter had never seen his best friend so dishevelled before. Usually, Sirius Black was the epitome of casual cool. His black curls were always charmingly windswept in a way that appeared as though he'd just run a hand through it, his skin golden from endless hours spent lazing under the sun. But this Sirius was pale, dark circles under dazed eyes and cheekbones sharp and protruding. A skeleton of himself, the saturation had been sapped from this Sirius Black leaving a grey lifeless body.
But despite the blood crusted beneath his nose and the deep bruise developing along his jaw, Sirius offered James Potter his signature grin.
"I thought I'd just pop by, considering I'm in the neighbourhood."
While the smile never left the boy's face, Sirius' silver eyes were dull in a way that made James' blood run cold. His body was tight as a wire with tension, fists clenched at his side. Twitchy with apprehension, the older boy looked ready to flee at the first sight of danger. Something deep inside of James ached at the sight. His best friend was a fighter, he never ran from peril no matter how many Slytherins had their wands pointed at him, nor when McGonagall's eyes had that look that promised long months of detention. Over the summer, it seemed that the fight in Sirius had been sapped from him, leaving something tense and trembling.
The hand of Euphemia Potter, his mother, stopped her son from any acts of violence he was considering at that moment, "Oh, Sirius," her face split into a lovely smile, but he could sense a tremor deep down that she worked hard to conceal, "Do come in. I've just made hot chocolate."
For the upcoming weeks, there was a stream of both familiar and unfamiliar faces that flowed through the house. Hushed words were spoken between adults behind closed doors. In the meantime, James Potter did his best to keep his best friend distracted.
The days were spent with endless games of quidditch and in the evenings the two boys slaved over the Potter's wizard chessboard. Sometimes Fleamont Potter would take them into the basement and show them the latest potion he was concocting. Other times, Euphemia would let them follow her around the kitchen. They did their best to keep the dark cloud hovering above the eldest Black's head from settling, but some days there was nothing they could do. The day before they would return to Hogwarts was one of those.
James pushed open the door to his friend's room, a slit of light illuminating the dark space. The curtains were drawn and he could just make out the shape of Sirius Black, hidden beneath thick blankets. He hadn't left his room all day, had barely spoken a word.
When James asked the boy if he could get him anything, he received no word and the door slid closed again. Brooding, James descended the stairs and found himself in the kitchen. His mother stood over the hob, her wand out as she flicked it and an array of vegetables floated in. They sat in comfortable silence for a while before the woman finally turned to her son. Her face softened with a gentle smile and she reached out to stroke his cheek, brushing a curl behind his ear.
"Still not any better?"
"I just," he paused struggling to find the words, "I feel so helpless. I don't know what I can do to make this any better."
"You've been beautiful, my dear," she whispers, a reassuring smile accompanying her words, "There's nothing more we can do, but give him time."
An overwhelming feeling of rage bubbled within the young boy's body, so strong and encompassing he felt the urge to burst into tears, "I'm so angry," he admitted, eyes dropping away from his mother's tender expression. But he thought of Sirius over the past few weeks. Thought of how he jerked when a door was closed too loudly, how he winced when moving too quickly. His night's had been haunted by the sound of Sirius' screams when they'd fixed his broken ribs. Releasing a shudder, James finally met eyes with his mother, "It scares me how much so. I just want to hurt them all, just like they did to him."
"You know that two wrongs don't make a right-"
He resisted the urge to sigh in frustration, "But they're his family, mum. They're supposed to love him unconditionally. How could they-" he choked on his words, "even his brother. They all watched."
Euphemia lowered herself into the chair opposite her son, "James, you have always been so full of love. You love so fiercely and hurt all the same. You must understand that, while you had that privilege, to love so endlessly, some don't have the same."
"You think Walburga Black has the ability to love?"
Her eyes twinkled with amusement, "Perhaps not. But Regulus is only a boy."
"He's evil, mum. He's just like them."
"All teenage boys are evil."
Euphemia Potter laughed as her son's face fell in offence. It was a laugh that fluttered about the room and made his insides feel warm. Soon, as he joined her in her laughter, he forgot all about the rage that snaked through his bones.
If it weren't for the muffliato charms surrounding the Gryffindor common room, the party would've been stopped hours ago.
Even into the night, the room was humming with life as students danced and chatted amongst one another. The music was loud with a song James had never heard but had him tapping his foot as he was trapped in a conversation with a Sirius Black in far better spirits than he had been a few days before.
"I'm just saying mate," waving the whisky in his fist about with drunk fervour, "Marlene McKinnon has been giving me eyes all night."
"And I'm saying that, despite you trying to convince me for the past twenty minutes, I completely believe you. Marlene's reputation is almost as infamous as your own."
Sirius's face dropped in mock horror, his hand grasping his chest as if the accusation had wounded him. But not only a second had passed before the dark-haired boy's eyes began to glitter with mischief, a smirk growing as he was distracted by a different thought, "Speaking of shitty reputations, what plans have you got for our favourite redhead? Gonna get all the owls to hoot her a song of love? You've delayed it pretty long this year, we're all getting nervous."
At the mention of her name, James' face burned in a flustered display. He'd spent the last five years grovelling for Lily Evans' attention. The fiery-haired girl with a temper to match had been his main source of infatuation for as long as he'd been aware of the difference between boys and girls. But after years of shut down, it'd become more and more tedious. James wasn't sure anymore whether he'd only carried it on merely due to everyone's expectation or because he actually wanted to.
"Reckon I've given up on that," he told his best friend, "'s clear she's not interested, anyway."
Sirius' face dropped in an exaggerated expression of horror, "James Potter giving up?" he exclaimed, "I don't believe it. You've never been a quitter."
"I'm not quitting," he objected, "It's clear the game has been lost, Pads. No point carrying on playing."
"Christ, now I know why you're a virgin. Speak about girls the same way you do quidditch."
He restrained the urge to punch the oldest Black, "I'm a virgin out of moral objections. It's a choice."
"Keeping your purity and all that? Trying to secure a marriage with a decent gentleman your mother would be proud of? You're sounding like the perfect pureblood daughter, Prongs."
Something about the mocking tone in Sirius' voice twisted his stomach, but he smiled nevertheless, "Precisely."
Thankfully, his friend's attention was pulled away towards the crowd as a determined Marlene made her way through the dancing students, eyes set on Sirius.
"That's my cue," he muttered to himself, before slipping away. There was no way he was getting caught in the middle of a soft-core porno between the most notorious womanisers of Hogwarts.
With the sudden need for fresh air, James grabbed a bottle and slipped out of the common room. It was only in the cold air of Hogwarts does he realise how embarrassingly drunk he was. On wobbly legs, the Gryffindor boy began to wonder about the castle, lost in his thoughts and sipping on something strong and unidentifiable. His thoughts were consumed with red hair and green eyes and a girl who loved to shut him down. Lily Evans was a force to be reckoned with, like a tsunami or an earthquake, beautiful and devastating all at once. Or at least, every time he'd made a move for her, she was always beautiful and he was always devastated. It was only when he found himself at the bottom of a ladder, did he realise he had made his way to the astronomy tower. Deciding that fresh air might be good to clear the haze over his mind, he hauled himself up the rungs.
The wind whipped through the tower with an icy vengeance. James Potter wrapped his arms tight around his body, the light t-shirt nothing against the Scottish September gales. In his desperation to stay warm, he almost missed the boy who stood across the tower.
James Potter hadn't interacted with Regulus Black much in the past years they'd been at school together. There'd not been much reason to, being in separate years and different houses. But, he felt he knew him well enough from Sirius' stories. Regulus Black was cold and callous, he cared about nothing and no one but himself. The Slytherin Prince sauntered around the castle with an air of superiority and a sneer permanently etched across his face. It wasn't just the boy's temperament that put most off approaching him, but the people he kept as company. Regulus Black was always likely to be surrounded by the nastiest of Slytherins. There was barely a moment when the youngest Black would not be surrounded by grovelling pureblood wannabes begging for a single morsel of the boy's attention.
Which was why he was so surprised to see him alone.
The youngest black stood hunched over the railing, a black notebook clutched between one hand whilst the other held a quill between its fingers. James watched the boy for a moment as the quill danced across the paper, sketching words or pictures that he could not make out from this distance. Suddenly overwhelmed by the sense that he was intruding, James moved to leave the boy in peace. But Regulus Black, somehow alerted to his presence, was already looking at him.
"You always creep on people on their own, Potter?"
He was so startled, he almost forgot he didn't like the boy as he stuttered, "No. I was just leaving."
"Fine. Off you go."
But the alcohol raging through his blood and the sudden desperation to not return to the party made him stay. "What are you doing?" he asked, peering at the leather-bound notebook in the other boy's hands.
Regulus turned back to him, a scowl revealing his irritation, "You're still here?"
It wasn't meant as a question, but James answered anyway, "Yes. I'm interested in what you're doing."
The younger boy turned away and returned to his sketching, beneath his breath he muttered a curse, "Bloody Gryffindors."
Taking this as a good sign, considering he hadn't been demanded to leave yet, James moved closer to his friend's brother. At this distance, he could just about make out the shapes on the page, "Astronomy homework? For a second then, I thought you were interesting."
Regulus's head whipped towards the boy and his eyes flashed with unreserved rage, but the expression quickly returned to boredom as he noticed James' grin. "No, you imbecile. I'm not doing homework."
"So, what are you doing?" James hadn't a clue why he was so desperate to hear the boy's answer. Maybe because, for a second, Regulus Black had seemed almost human those few moments he'd thought he was alone.
Regulus sighed, shoulder's sagging in an expression Euphemia used to make when James was a small tyrant wreaking havoc inside her house, "If I tell you, will you leave me alone?"
"Yes."
"Forever?"
"Probably not."
"Fine," Regulus grumbled and he turned with such elegance that James felt his heart lurch unexpectedly. The youngest Black leant up against the railing nonchalantly and James felt his mouth dry. "I'm drawing my family's constellations. I like to do it sometimes when I'm stressed. Happy?"
Fighting the urge to flood the boy with questions, James merely asked, "Which one is yours?"
The question shocked the younger boy, whether, from the surprise of the fact he asked or surprise that James is stupid enough to not know, he was not sure. Regulus shifted between feet in an unexpected show of shyness, "Well, I'm not a whole constellation, just a star," he pointed to a series of lines shaped almost like a horse, his finger resting on one near to the bottom, "That's mine."
"Which one is that up there?"
Regulus turned to the expanse of night sky before them, his eyes searching for a mere second before he lifted his finger, "There, the bright one. Do you see it?"
Forgetting who he was with, James shifted towards the boy, their shoulders almost touching as he followed his eye line towards the dark sweep of sky. "Oh, yeah. I see. Pretty."
He missed the violent blush that spread across the younger boy's cheeks. The two of them stayed like that for a moment, far closer than they should be. But it was James who had to spoil it.
"Which one's Sirius'?"
Immediately, James could feel the cold again as Regulus shifted away from him, his face returning to the icy aloofness of before.
"Fuck, I'm sorry."
"Why? He's your friend."
"And - well - he's your brother," James managed to stutter.
"He's not been that for a long time," there was a pause of uncomfortable silence, "Weren't you leaving?"
Knowing there was no way of recovering the conversation, and not sure why he was so desperate to do so anyways, James decided to make a quick exit. He followed the noise back to Gryffindor tower, the silencing charms seemingly faded after hours. A few students remained throughout the room, most wrapped in passionate displays. One of which was a familiar blonde and dark-haired boy. But James had no desire to talk to Sirius, wasn't even sure he be able to meet his eyes. Although he wasn't sure why it wasn't like he'd done something wrong. It wasn't like he'd sought the youngest brother out. Either way, though, James Potter had had enough of the stormy Black eyes for one night. Clambering up the stairs, he threw himself into bed still fully dressed and with no urge to change that.
His mind was racing with the conversation before. James had no idea why he'd felt so crushed by the youngest Black's sudden change of emotions. The way his face had changed at the sound of his brother's name haunted the back of James' eyelids. He hadn't the slightest clue why he was so disturbed by the whole event. He was supposed to hate Regulus Black. He did hate Regulus Black. Didn't he?