Work Text:
Dumbledore defeated Voldemort on May 2, 1979 with something involving the Sword of Gryffindor and a bunch of fancy old jewellery, if the rumours were to be believed. James didn’t know what to make of it, but Dumbledore wasn’t very forthcoming with the information, so James tried not to dwell on it.
He was much too busy anyway, having inherited the Potter estate and fortune during the war much earlier than expected. His parents had died at the height of the war, which had left James with little time to grieve and even less time to get his affairs in order. By the time it was all over, the manor garden was overgrown, and his father’s old desk was piling up with unopened mail James had been too distracted to care about. It had taken him until three months after the end of the war to finally be able to begin taking care of his affairs.
Being the heir to a wealthy wizarding estate, it turned out, was a full time job. His days were spent answering mail and trying to make sense of piles and piles of papers and bookkeeping records his father had died too early to explain to him. That was, when his house actually let him find anything. It had now been five months since the war had ended and he still couldn’t make sense of anything because Potter manor had started waging war on him instead.
“…so yeah, the house is essentially fighting me. Vanishing rooms, changing around hallways, hiding things. I’m just glad it lets me find the front door to leave.”
Sirius frowned apologetically, setting two mugs of tea down on the kitchen table of his and Remus’ apartment. “I’m sorry mate, I don’t have a clue about house magic. I’m sure Reggie can help, though.”
James reached for the tea gratefully, an uncomfortable pressure settling in his chest. “With my house?”
“Yeah, he’s got all sorts of books on that stuff. Broods over them all the time because he’s fixing up Grimmauld. Honestly, it’s a good thing I was disinherited, I would be bored out of my mind with that. I’d make a rubbish heir.”
James smirked. “Yeah you’d be hopeless.”
Sirius shoved him. There was a bit of a scuffle, before they settled down again, grinning at each other. “Do you really think he’d help?” James asked doubtfully. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but your brother doesn’t exactly like me.”
Sirius gave him an odd look. “He does get a bit… stiff around you doesn‘t he?”
James scoffed. “‘A bit stiff’? He can barely stay in a room with me for more than five minutes, and when he has to he can’t even look me in the eye. Much less talk to me without snapping. At least since…” James bit his lip.
“Since…?” Sirius prompted.
“Well, since he graduated from Hogwarts,” James said hastily. “It’s not like I saw him much before.”
Unbidden, the memories flashed through his mind then. A bonfire on a beach, on an early summer night, surrounded by their friends. Toasting to the end of a war with butterbeer and firewhiskey. And a stolen, drunken kiss under the cover of darkness that still made James feel weak in the knees. Lips that had tasted like whiskey and the salt air. “James.” Barely more than a whisper against his mouth. And the next morning, cold, grey eyes that refused to meet his.
James glanced up and saw that Sirius was still looking at him, frowning. “Well, it’s time he got over himself. I’ll make him help you, don’t worry.”
And so it was that, a week later, James found himself on the steps of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Sirius, the wanker, had originally promised to join him as a buffer but had owled him that morning, saying Remus needed his help with something and James should just go without him, it would all be fine. James was still annoyed about it.
“Potter,” Regulus said in greeting giving him a stiff nod. James suppressed a grimace. He could count the number of times Regulus had called him by his first name on one hand.
“Regulus.”
They stood frozen for a second, just looking at each other. Something in James’ chested constricted.
“Well,” Regulus said then, stepping back and gesturing at him to come inside. “Come on in, then. Kreacher!”
James stepped over the threshold, looking around. It looked much lighter and friendlier than the last time he had been here, months ago, before Regulus had returned from Hogwarts and started renovating.
With a crack, Kreacher appeared next to them and James flinched at the sound, his eyes nervously darting to the drapes at the far end of the hall. He happened to know that after Walburga Black’s death, a rather shouty, noise-sensitive portrait version of her had appeared on that wall. Regulus followed his gaze. “She’s not there anymore,” he said brusquely. “I managed to undo the sticking charm.”
James was too surprised to remember that they were being awkward. “Really? Sirius tried for months, while you were still in school.”
A satisfied smirk spread over Regulus’ face. “Well, I know he likes to pretend otherwise but we both know who’s the more versatile wizard.”
James snorted, but couldn’t hold back his own grin. “Touché.”
Regulus turned to Kreacher then, but James could have sworn he saw a pleased expression flicker over his face for just a moment.
“Tea for two in the study please, Kreacher.”
“Yes, Sir, of course Sir,” the elf replied eagerly, looking up at Regulus adoringly. “Kreacher is being baking some chocolate scones, Sir, will Sirs be having some of those as well?” His eyes flickered hopefully between the two of them.
Regulus raised a questioning eyebrow at James.
James shrugged. “Sure.”
“Very well,” Regulus said, turning back to the house elf. “Thank you, Kreacher.”
The elf nodded eagerly and disappeared with another crack.
“Shall we, then? The books are in my study.”
James nodded, following Regulus up the stairs.
“Does it feel weird to you using a study?” James asked. “It feels weird to me, I can barely go into my father’s. Makes me feel like a child.” He knew he was blabbering, looking for something to fill the tense silence between them.
Regulus glanced back at him. “It’s just a study,” he said. “Where do you expect me to run the Black Estate from?”
James shrugged. “I just put a desk in the sitting room instead. Works just fine.”
Regulus snorted. “Aren’t you here because it’s not working ‘just fine’?” James grimaced. “Besides, I assume you don’t frequently have to deal with cursed correspondence from bigoted family members?”
“I have a distant cousin who sometimes sends me postcards.”
“Case in point.”
James’ steps faltered for a moment. “Wait, did you say cursed? Like, literally cursed?”
“Yes Potter, literally cursed. The study is warded with all sorts of protective magic so I don’t hurt myself opening the mail.” Regulus’ eye roll was audible. “Quite a few people want me dead, you know.”
James swallowed hard, all thoughts of awkwardness dispelled. “I had no idea, Regulus. Isn’t there anything we can do? Maybe Sirius and I…”
“Oh please, don’t be dramatic.” Regulus made an impatient hand gesture as they came to stand in front of a large, regal-looking double door. “Every Head of the House of Black has had to deal with this for centuries. We’re just a confrontational family. It’s fine.”
James unlocked the door with a wave of his hand and stepped through, gesturing for James to follow. “Don’t touch anything.”
The room they entered was furnished with wood panelling and ceiling high book shelves in the same dark stained oak wood as the door. There was a large mahogany desk in the middle of the room that had some unidentifiable magical instruments on it. The stained glass windows at the back barely let enough light in, so the candles in the large crystal chandelier were lit despite the hour, giving the room an eerie glow. On the far side of the room, there were some leather chairs and a side table next to a bar cart that was crammed with glasses and liquor bottles. James bit back a chuckle. It looked more like something he would have expected to find in Dumbledore’s office at Hogwarts than at Grimmauld.
Regulus had taken out his wand and started levitating books down from the top shelves as James looked around the room with wide eyes, taking in the various random objects that were scattered over every available surface except the hardwood floor. “Huh,” he muttered. “I thought you’d be tidier.”
If Regulus had heard, he ignored him. “Your problem probably has to do with house magic but I’ll throw in a few about inheritance curses as well,” he said stiffly. “Is is just rooms that go missing or other things too?”
James explained about missing rooms and objects, confounded hallways, and staircases leading into nothing.
“Fascinating,” Regulus said, looking thoughtful, and not at all hostile for a change. It was as if his curiosity over what was going on at Potter manor had won the internal battle with his dislike of James. “Would you…” he hesitated for a moment. “Would you mind terribly if I came to your house sometime before you fix whatever is going on? I would like to see it first hand.”
James blinked, surprised. He had expected to be reluctantly loaned some books as a favour to Sirius, but Regulus seemed genuinely interested. “Not at all. Happy to have you.”
“Splendid. I won’t be a bother. You just don’t see a lot of this kind of magic a lot you know. It’s a good opportunity.”
“Of course.”
James was honestly a little impressed. Regulus was still snapping at him, but they had managed to kept a somewhat civil conversation going for the entire time he’d been here.
Something gold on one of the shelves next to him caught his eye then and he grinned. “Oh hey, why do you have a snitch lying around he—“
“James, I said don’t touch anyth—“
James knew immediately, that he had made a mistake. There was a flash of light and loud banging noise, and James suddenly felt a sensation similar to portkey travel in his stomach, as Regulus’ study spun around him until he couldn’t make out anything more than blurred shapes. He tried to call Regulus’ name but his jaw muscles wouldn’t oblige. His ears popped.
He slammed down hard, tumbling backwards and falling to the ground. He blinked, trying to make sense of what happened as he took in his surroundings. Regulus, it seemed, had travelled with him to wherever they were, despite not having touched the snitch or James, and had fallen much the same as he had. Judging from the annoyed look on his face, he was unharmed. Good.
James looked around and up and what he saw was… well, he didn’t know what it was. They were in a circular room no wider than a few yards, with a curved roof that formed a dome above their heads that reached all the way down to the floor. James could see perfectly, even though there was no visible source of light anywhere. The oddest sight though was that the floor, as well as the dome, was made from what looked like solid gold.
“Bloody hell,” James muttered as they both got to their feet. When he looked over at Regulus, he mouth went dry. Regulus was livid.
“What exactly,” he said quietly, his voice laced with more venom that James had ever heard it, “is so hard to understand about ‘don’t touch anything’?!”
James ducked his shoulders guiltily. “I’m sorry?” he tried.
Regulus gaze was icy.
“Apology not accepted. Got it,” James murmured, looking around once more for clues as to where they were. “Why do you just have a portkey lying around like that anyway?”
“It wasn’t a portkey,” Regulus said, examining the dome above them with narrowed eyes.
“It wasn’t?”
“No, I don’t think so. I hadn’t finished examining it yet. Be glad we’re not dead, Potter. I told you I get sent cursed objects all the time.”
James swallowed, ignoring the stab of fear at the thought of almost having killed them.
“So where do you think we are then? And how did we get here if it wasn’t a portkey?”
Regulus carefully touched his hand to the nearest wall, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I think,” he said slowly, as if he was testing out the words, “we are inside the snitch.”
James blinked, his eyes darting around as he took another look at their surroundings. “That’s wicked,” he said reverently after a few moments.
Regulus gave him a flat look but said nothing.
“Who sent it to you?”
“Don’t know. It was anonymous. I only just got it yesterday, haven’t had a chance to examine it yet.”
“Brilliant.”
“Look, I’m not the one who touched it, Potter,” Regulus snapped.
James, admittedly, could not deny that.
“So,” he asked then, “any idea how to get out of here?”
“Not yet.”
James exhaled. “Alright then,” he muttered, and unceremoniously flopped down to sit cross legged on the floor, “so the snitch had to have some sort of enlargement charm on it that was triggered when I touched it,” James mused after a few moments of silence.
Regulus hummed noncommittally. “I don’t think so,” he said again.
James narrowed his eyes at him. “Then what?”
Regulus pursed his lips, brow furrowed. “I think we were shrunk and then transported inside the snitch. If the snitch had enlarged, the study would be wrecked and being trapped in here would be the least of our worries with all the dark magical artefacts I have lying around there.”
James couldn’t help but bark a laugh. “So essentially, you think we’ve been shrunk because if we hadn’t been we’d probably be dead?”
“Essentially.”
“Marvellous.”
James let his head thud against the wall behind him. They were silent as Regulus walked around the perimeter of the room, sliding his hand along the walls. Then he stopped abruptly to James’ right and pulled out his wand. “Diffindo,” he tried. Nothing happened. Regulus frowned. “Lumos,” he tried then. Nothing.
“Oh, brilliant, no magic,” James muttered.
Regulus rolled his eyes. “Of course we have magic, Potter, our wands just don’t work. They’re likely too small now.”
“Oh, and you’re a prodigy at wandless magic then?”
Regulus didn’t reply, just snapped his fingers. A small flame appeared on the tip of his index finger.
James scoffed. “Show-off.”
Regulus just smirked.
“You don’t look nearly worried enough for the situation we’re in.”
“I’m not. Kreacher will notice something’s off when he brings us tea and finds the snitch on the ground. If he can’t find us he’ll go and get Sirius.”
“You have an awful lot of faith in your brother, Regulus.”
“And you don’t?” Regulus asked with raised eyebrows. He didn’t wait for a reply. “My brother would move mountains the moment he realises his beloved James Potter has vanished into thin air.”
James mouth twitched. “You’re not wrong. But…” he paused, wondering if he was about to overstep. “…he’d do that for you too, you know.”
Regulus’ face remained impassive, but something complicated was happening in his eyes. “I suppose so,” he said softly after a pause.
James couldn’t help but smile. He remembered when Sirius and Regulus had barely been able to look at each other without hostility crackling through the air between them. They really had come a long way since then.
He was about to open his mouth to reply when something on the ground next to Regulus’ feet caught his eye. It was almost the same golden colour as everything else, which must have been why neither of them had spotted it yet, but it didn’t have the same shiny glimmer. Before he could think better of it, he reached out and snatched it up. It was a piece of parchment.
“Is this from your study? Did it come with us?” James asked as he unfolded it. He frowned, turning it over. “It’s blank.” Regulus snatched it out of his hands.
“Hey!” James got up, irritation tickling at the edge of his mind. “You know, we’d be able to figure this out together, and faster if you could bring yourself to be civil to me.”
Regulus didn’t reply. His eyes had narrowed as he stared at the parchment and he was… he was blushing? James realised he must have imagined it though, because a moment later, Regulus’ eyes flared angrily and he bunched up the parchment in his fist before shoving it into his pocket.
“Uhm… how is a blank piece of parchment making you so angry exactly?”
“It wasn’t blank,” Regulus snapped.
“Yeah it was.”
“It was charmed so only a Black would be able to read it.”
James pursed his lips. “Okay, great. What does it say? Any hint as to how we can get out of here?”
“Nope.” Regulus voice was cold as ice.
James huffed. “Fine, don’t tell me,” he muttered and crossed his arms in front of his chest.
They said nothing, for what seemed like an eternity.
James took a deep breath then. Might as well, he thought. “Actually, Reg, since we’re stuck here—“
“Yes, thanks to you,” Regulus grumbled under his breath.
“Since we’re stuck here,” James tried again, clamping down his irritation as he took a step closer to Regulus, “could you maybe tell me what I did to make you hate me so much?” The words came out in a rush and, to his chagrin, sounded a lot less casual than he would have liked.
Regulus avoided his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please. You call me by my last name as if we’re still fourteen years old, hexing each other in the corridors. You can barely even look at me.”
Regulus looked at him defiantly then. His grey eyes were hard and unyielding and… guarded.
“I…” James ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “Is it because of what happened this summer? Because if so, I’m sorry, okay? I mean, technically, you kissed me so I don’t really know what I’m apologising for exactly but…” he trailed off, watching as Regulus’ pale face flushed. There was no doubt about it this time. “Ah. So I’m right?”
Regulus looked down at his feet.
“I— look, I just want us to be able to be civil to each other, you know? It’s not like we’ll be out of each other’s lives anytime soon. So, I don’t know, yell at me about it if you want. Do whatever you need to. I just want us to be, well,” he swallowed, “friends.” The lie felt ashen on his tongue.
Regulus looked back up at him then, and he looked a little wild.
“Friends,” he echoed.
James nodded.
Regulus laughed bitterly. “Well, I don’t want to be friends, Potter, that’s the problem.”
James took a step back. The words felt like punch to the gut. Regulus was looking at him with a mixture of anger and desperation in his eyes that James didn’t understand.
“But,” James swallowed hard, his voice barely more than a whisper. “Why?”
Regulus looked pained. “You’re an idiot,” he said and his voice was shaking and he turned away from James, head bowed.
James stared at his back for a few long seconds, his mind reeling. “Look,” he began, and he could hear the cracks in his own voice but he supposed it didn’t matter at this point. “I know you didn’t mean it. You made that extremely clear.”
“What,” Regulus murmured, but James continued.
“I know it didn’t mean anything for you, you were drunk and I was just there, and that’s fine, really,” Jame babbled on, barely able to stop the flood of words coming out of his mouth. “But after that kiss I thought… I really thought it might have been the start of something and I’m sorry I misinterpreted, I really am, but this, honestly, this seems unnecessarily cruel.”
Regulus turned around then and looked at James with wide eyes.
“I don’t expect anything from you, I promise, but you’re Sirius’ brother so you’re pretty much going to be stuck with me for the rest of your life and I just think it would be nice if we could— if we could be…” James stumbled over his words then because Regulus had stepped closed to him, much closer than before and he was still looking at him with those wide grey eyes that were more of a mystery than ever. “…friendly,” James finished in a whisper. Regulus was close enough now for James to see a tiny freckle on the bridge of his nose.
“Friendly,” Regulus echoed, again, but his voice was low and breathy now, and James’ heart started racing as he felt Regulus’ breath ghost over his face.
Unable to speak, James just nodded.
And then Regulus’ lips were on his and his eyes automatically fell shut. For just a moment, James was paralysed, unable to process what was happening. But then, he felt Regulus’ palm against his jaw and his fingers in his hair and then he was kissing him back with everything he had. Regulus’ lips were soft and warm against his own and he couldn’t hold back the soft whimper that escaped his throat. Blindly, he reached forward, finding Regulus’ waist and pulled him closer, fisting his hands into the fabric of his shirt. Regulus made a soft sound then, too and James smiled against his mouth, a delicious thrill running down his spine.
When they broke apart for air, they rested their foreheads together, unwilling to move further apart than absolutely necessary. They were both panting, and James lifted one hand so he could slide it into Regulus’ neat curls. “I thought, you were drunk, too,” Regulus said, his voice shaking. “I thought it didn’t mean anything for you.”
James laughed breathlessly, feeling a bit lightheaded. “I was drunk. But it meant everything.”
Regulus bit his lip, and then closed the distance between them again. “I’m still mad at you for touching the snitch,” he murmured against his mouth and James grinned, moving from Regulus’ lips to kiss along his jaw. “I’d be disappointed if you weren’t,” he murmured into his skin and felt Regulus shiver in response.
When they broke apart this time, James pulled back a little more so he could at Regulus’ face. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen, but it was his eyes that took James’ breath away. They were open and earnest and glinting with something unfamiliar that James had never seen there before. Regulus was smiling softly, and James made himself a promise that he would try to make Regulus smile like that every day.
James cleared his throat, absentmindedly running his hands up and down Regulus’ arms. “So, uhm, just so there are no more misunderstandings. I like you, quite a bit in fact, and I would really like it if you would go out with me,” he declared.
Regulus gave him an exasperated look. “You’re ridiculous.”
“I know,” James said. “So?”
“So what?”
“Oh come on. Don’t leave me hanging like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like, not knowing what this is for you?” James was suddenly, irrationally nervous, wondering if he had completely misinterpreted everything that had just happened. “I mean, if you just want a shag, that’s fine, I guess, I mean it would hurt quite a bit really, but I guess I couldn’t resist anyway if you really wanted that, but I really hope—“
“James.”
James’ thoughts came to a stuttering halt at Regulus using his first name. It took a moment for him to respond.
“Yes?”
“You’re an idiot.”
“Okay.”
“I don’t just want a shag.”
“Okay.”
“I’m taking you out to dinner tomorrow. Wear something nice.”
There was a pause. James’ heart stuttered.
“So does that mean we’re going out? Dating?” James had the distinct feeling that Regulus would strangle him if he used the word ‘boyfriend’.
“Oh for the love of— yes, James. We are going on a date. Are you happy now?”
“Extremely,” James grinned smugly. “Although for that to happen we still have to get out of here.”
“Oh, I know how to get out.”
James gaped. “What?! How?!”
Regulus took a small step back and pulled the crumpled piece of parchment from earlier out of his pocket. As he attempted to smooth it out he turned so James could look at it over his shoulder. It was still blank.
“What—“ James began but then Regulus waved his palm over it and words started appearing in strangely familiar handwriting.
Brother dearest,
I am tired of you and James being weird around each other. Figure out whatever it is you have to figure out with him. I want a nice and cozy family Christmas this year without you glaring daggers at him.
When you’re ready, you know what to do.
— S.
“Oh the tosser,” James breathed. “Sirius did this?!”
“So it seems,” Regulus said drily. “I suspect Remus helped.”
“Meddling prick,” James muttered. “Not that I’m particularly mad about this turn of events,” he said as an afterthought. “What does he mean ‘you know what to do’?”
Regulus snapped his fingers. A quill appeared floating next to them, and he plucked it out of the air and elegantly wrote a reply at the bottom.
I’m ready.
Then he snapped his fingers again and the quill and parchment both disappeared.
“What the hell?” James breathed and nudged at Regulus so he would turn back to face him.
“Sirius and I used to send each other messages like that at night, or when we couldn’t… when we weren’t allowed to see each other. It started as accidental magic, but we just kept doing it. It’s… useful.”
James was about to reply when the parchment and quill appeared next to them again. Sirius had replied.
Nice try, little brother. What about James?
James growled and snatched the quill out of the air himself to scribble a reply.
***
Sirius bit into his second scone, curtesy of Kreacher, and leaned back in the leather armchair, glancing at the snitch that was still lying on the ground in the middle of the study. Was his plan a little extreme? Maybe, but they’d been out of Hogwarts for almost 18 months and then there had been the war, and really, he hadn’t done a proper prank in so long. It was almost like an itch he had finally been able to scratch. The fact that Regulus really needed to get over himself where James was concerned was just a bonus.
He had just about finished his scone when the parchment appeared next to him for the second time. He plucked it out of the air, grinning widely when he recognised James’ scrawl next to his and Regulus’ perfect cursive.
We’re ready. Prick.
Sirius put the parchment down and dabbed his mouth with one of the white cloth napkins Kreacher had served with the tea. Then he grabbed his wand, pointed it at the snitch and muttered, “Finite Incantatem.”
There was a blinding flash of light, and a loud thump as two pairs of feet slammed onto the hardwood floor.
“Welcome back,” Sirius said with a grin, as he stood while his vision adjusted. “So, are you the best of friends now?”
The first thing he noticed was that James and Regulus were standing very close. James even had his arm around Regulus’ waist — he’d probably instinctively tried to steady him when they hit the ground, the sodding gentleman. The second thing he noticed was that both their hair was a mess. Not unusual for James of course, but Regulus’ hair was always immaculate. He used about three hundred different hair potions for Merlin’s sake. The third thing he noticed was that his brother was smiling. His eyes were shining in a way that Sirius wasn’t sure he had seen on his brother’s face since they had been toddlers.
Sirius looked at James and found a wide-open expression of unfiltered joy on his face. He felt an odd sense of foreboding then. “I feel like I’m missing something.”
Regulus’ smile grew wider and there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I must thank you, brother, really. James and I really did have things to discuss, as it turns out.”
Sirius looked between the two of them, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at James’ hand that was still resting on Regulus’ waist. “Okay…?”
“He’s right,” James said, grinning. “Thanks Sirius. Really appreciate it.” He stepped forward, even closer to Regulus, and then— and then—
Sirius’ brain short circuited. That was the only explanation. Because James could not possibly just have kissed Regulus’ temple. Sirius waited. Surely Regulus would shove him away. Or curse him. Or both.
None of it happened.
And so the truth began to dawn on Sirius.
“I— no, that’s not— what—“ Sirius spluttered. “Prongs! My brother?! Seriously?”
James gave him a crooked grin. “Sorry?”
Sirius’ started at both of them open-mouthed. It took him a while before he found the words. “I just— I just wanted you to, like, get along, not…. fornicate!”
James had the good sense to blush. Regulus just smirked. “Be careful what you wish for, brother.” He gestured at the snitch on the ground. “Impressive little piece of magic. Remus?”
Sirius ground his teeth. “…Lily,” he admitted grudgingly.
“Ah.” Regulus nodded wisely. “You just had to do a Finite to get us out?”
Sirius nodded, and then froze, realising his mistake.
The grin on his brother’s face turned feral.
***
Regulus had never quite understood Sirius’ and the rest of the Maurauders’ obsession with pranks. It had always seemed to him like a little too energy intensive for just a short moment of gratification.
Retaliation, however, was something he understood well, and he cherished the look of horror on his brother’s face as he sent the snitch they had been trapped in hurling towards him with a flick of his fingers.
You would think, Regulus thought, that having been a beater, Sirius’ reflex would have been to duck and not to catch the snitch. As it was, however, his hands snapped up instinctively to catch the small golden ball before it hit him in the face. Right before his brother’s hand closed around it, Regulus grabbed James’ forearm and apparated them into the downstairs sitting room.
James was already heaving with laughter when Regulus let him go. “His… his face…,” James gasped, flopping down on the couch and putting his head in his hands, shaking. Regulus regarded him fondly as he sat next to him. When James had calmed down enough to look up at him, his eyes were damp with tears of laughter. Regulus breath hitched. He felt like he was in a dream.
“How long are you leaving him in there?” James asked.
Regulus shrugged. “An hour? What do you think?”
James laughed again. “Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.”
Regulus rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He reached out to move some loose strands of hair out of James’ face, not quite able to believe just yet that he didn’t have to suppress that urge anymore. James closed his eyes for a moment at the touch.
“So,” James asked then, leaning so close that his face went out of focus. “Where were we?”
Regulus felt him grin against his lips.