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Chapter Text

Present Day: Sirius

Flashing his best friend what he hopes is a reassuring grin, he fixes the man’s tie one last time before asking, “Nervous?”

James’ teeth-chattering return of a smile is answer enough, really, but for some unfathomable reason he feels the need to lie anyway. “Not at all.”

He rolls his eyes before removing his hands and allowing the tie to loosely flop back onto the freshly-ironed, white shirt that is the least-James thing Sirius has ever seen by far. But, well, it is a wedding, and they are all making sacrifices in their own way. Sirius and James despise smart clothes, both for their own reasons, and despite the fact that this must be the happiest day of his life, Sirius has never seen his best mate look so…

It doesn’t matter. He’s gotten the girl he has been chasing for the last eight or so years, since their first year of secondary school, and today he will marry her. And they’ll live happily ever after.

Only now James is doing that nervous—and rather pointless—hair-flattening thing of his by the mirror, interrupted by Sirius before he ever puts his voice box to use.

”It’s fine, James,” he assures him calmly, stepping into view of their reflections as he places an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “You look great, as does she, I’m sure. Everything’s going to be okay, and I promised you that there are less than twenty ‘Prongs’ jokes in my speech. What could possibly go wrong?”

James visibly swallows before glancing at Sirius’s reflection in the mirror beside his.

”I just…” he trails off with a sour expression, as if even James himself is unsure of what it is that has him so… this. “I have this feeling, you know? Like we forgot something, or— or something bad is about to happen, or—“

”James,” Sirius stresses, turning him around by the shoulders to place a hand on either one as he looks him in the eyes. “Look at me. Nothing is going to go wrong. There’s a reason that there’s a name for ‘pre-wedding jitters,’ and it’s not because they’re uncommon.”

Exhaling slowly, James keeps his eyes trained on Sirius’, continuing to take deep breaths until, Sirius guesses, his heartbeat reaches a somewhat steady pace. They remain like that until the younger man relaxes into a small smile and finally draws his eyes away towards the floor.

”Thanks, Pads,” he says eventually. “Really.”

Sirius cracks him a genuine smile this time, reaching to pat him on the arm when there is a knock at the door.

”Sirius,” calls Marlene’s voice, an impatient air audibly rising in it. “It’s usually the bride that takes too long getting read—“

Everything about her freezes the second she opens the door and her eyes find James in his black-and-white suit, not unlike the one she currently has on, gradually looking him up and down as if she can’t quite believe it.

Visibly, James shifts his weight from one foot to the other, looking at her nervously before inevitably speaking out.

“How do I look?” he asks weakly, spreading his arms out slightly to give her a better view. In a completely unprecedented act, Marlene takes this as an opportunity to dash across the room towards him and wind her arms around him in a tight embrace. Sirius is fairly certain that his eyes would pop out of their sockets if not for the fact that they are very firmly attached to his head.

”What’s happening?” James practically whispers, even as he returns the hug with equal enthusiasm, half of his face hidden by Marlene’s hair.

”Fuck, I promised myself I wasn’t going to do that,” she hisses, just as quiet as she pulls away and knuckles at her eyes—no, no. Marlene McKinnon is crying for the first time ever, and Sirius left his phone with Remus before seeking out James’ room.

The best day of his best mate’s life is the worst day of his.

“Don’t you dare cry, McKinnon,” Sirius demands, for more than one reason but he only chooses to voice the latter aloud. “You know how he gets when he sees someone cry, and I spent ages perfecting his foundation.”

That causes Marlene’s tear flow to slow to a stop as she blinks at him confusedly.

“You— did you just say foundation? Sirius, Lily specifically said don’t do anything too… you.”

Sirius’ mouth drops open from the sheer unfairness of it all.

”You were crying a second ago because you saw him in a suit, but I get told off for making him pretty?”

She rolls her eyes which are somehow completely dry now before there is yet another knock at the door.

This time it is Remus that enters, glancing around the room as his eyes land on Marlene. Sirius knows that it’s been ages and that they’ve already hit two major anniversaries, believe him he knows, but seeing him all dressed up like that does something to his heart that he doesn’t appreciate one bit.

”Marlene,” he says as soon as he catches sight of her. “What are you doing here? Lily has to be ready to walk down the aisle in five minutes, and you’re here—“

Marlene scoffs in interruption. “For your information, Lily has been ready for the last half an hour—you really should know her better by now—and I’m only here to get these two to hurry up because she told me to, because she knows James—“

”Okay, okay,” he interjects, waving his hands in the air to grab her attention again. “I’m sorry. But can you please go check up on her? Mary’s a no-show, I can’t find Dorcas, and she refuses to let anyone else in the room, so I need you to—“

Huffing, Marlene almost jogs out of the room past him, flapping her arms around in the air exasperatedly as she mutters to herself in Spanish—something she only does when she is nearing the end of her patience. The wedding really is putting some pressure on everyone.

A little worryingly, James hasn’t spoken in the last ten or so minutes, and now Remus is watching him cautiously.

”Alright, James?” he asks tentatively, and something about the lack of nickname must register with the man in question, as his head snaps up to face Remus with an almost dazed look about him.

”Yeah,” he replies immediately, rubbing a hand at the nape of his neck which—for goodness sake, Sirius has told him not to do that a million times after fixing his hair repeatedly. But it appears that James Potter is a man of habit. Stupid, annoying habit.

Remus flashes him an unfairly charming grin—much better than Sirius’ first attempt at some kind of reassurance—and informs him that, “Nerves are completely normal, you know. It’s okay to freak out every now and again, Prongs.”

Sirius doesn’t think that he imagines the way that something in James instantly relaxes as soon as Remus voices the final word. He raises his eyebrows towards the tall, achingly beautiful man at the door as if to say ‘did you notice that?’ to no clear reply.

They can talk about their collective issues at a moment when a conversation like that won’t result in disaster. So… possibly never.

“Thanks Moony,” James says gratefully, smiling back as he nervously fiddles with his clothing—sleeves, cuff links, tie, you name it he’s got it. “I— I guess I am a bit… nervous.”

Classic Remus, honestly. Sirius has been here for absolutely ages, doing his best to get some kind of reaction or confession out of his best friend, and Remus waltzes in and does it with minimal effort and looks drop-dead gorgeous the entire—

Okay, perhaps he has a few issues of his own.

And then, last but most definitely not least:

”Okay, I’ve got the rings, the playlist, the—“ Peter lists off hurriedly as he practically falls through the door with an armful of stuff which he promptly drops at the sight of James standing there in his wedding tux. “Oh. You— Prongs, you look— shit, I promised Sirius I wasn’t going to cry.”

”And you better keep to that promise, Pettigrew,” Sirius adds in what he hopes is a threatening tone as he holds out a menacing finger. “I’ve already had Marlene come in here and tear him u—“

”Wait,” Remus interrupts suddenly, looking as if he has made a shocking discovery. “Marlene cried? When was this?”

Sirius chuckles nervously, absorbing every last drop of James’ nerves, apparently. “Er, yeah, funny thing, that. It happened about… exactly…”

”Sirius.”

”…right before you walked in?”

”What!?” he splutters, Sirius absentmindedly wincing when he does. “Tell me you recorded it.”

”Yeah, er, about that…” he begins tentatively.

The furtive glance to his pocket must be enough, because Remus’ eyes widen slightly as he pulls Sirius’ phone out of his pocket, gritting his teeth all the while.

“Well,” he starts, teeth remaining glued together. “It’s official. I hate my life.”

Peter furrows his brows before turning to him and asking, “Haven’t you always?”

Remus sighs contently. “You get me, Wormtail.”

Clearing his throat, James takes a step forward and gestures to himself as he speaks. “Not to interrupt… whatever this is, but I’m getting married in exactly three minutes, and not a single one of you have complimented me or my outfit yet! What else are you here for?”

Remus blinks before replying, “Well, maybe because we’re your best friends, and we want to be here for the happiest day of—“

”Prongs, you look absolutely dashing,” Sirius interrupts, walking towards him as if to showcase him like a museum artefact. “If I wasn’t all tied up with Moony, I would definitely—“

”Are you really sure you want to finish that sentence?” Remus questions, eyebrow raised.

In an instance, Sirius is at his side as if by means of teleportation, arm intwined with his and all as he gazes up into his warm, brown eyes which now consist of a hint of amusement.

”Oh, you know I didn’t mean it like that Moony,” he insists. “My one and only, Moonbeam, Moonshine, Mooncakes, Moon—“

”Mooncakes? Really?” Remus repeats, wrinkling his nose in visible distaste.

Peter scoffs as he rolls his eyes. “Don’t act so surprised, Moony. We all know he’s called you it before and he will again. And again, and again, and again, until you make him stop.”

”Oh, and just what means will he be using to ‘make me stop’?” Sirius asks smilingly, winking mischievously at Remus while James and Peter gag and pretend to vomit.

”Get a room,” James teases, and Sirius is glad to admit that some of his nerves have since faded. Well, that has been his only aim for the last hour or so, so he’ll flirt for his life if it means that that is what it requires to calm down James even a little. It isn’t that Sirius is worried James will do something about those nerves without meaning to; it’s that he’ll blurt them out at an extremely inappropriate time—possibly his wedding vows—and that is the exact opposite of what they want. Sirius has been hoping with all of his might that the man will be soothed by the sight of the love of his life as they walk down the aisle together.

That is one of the small adjustments which has been made to accommodate both cultures of either person being married today; another one being that Sirius, along with James, Remus, Peter, and a couple of James’ close cousins have to perform a dance routine for the entire wedding hall. Apparently it is quite common in James’ culture, and Sirius is certainly willing, but if he’s honest he is much more excited to witness what a dancing Remus looks like. The man has refused to showcase even the smallest of routines since they have been friends, but for the first ever time, in a moment of horrible judgment, he has agreed to join them in choreography. Sirius’ heart attempts odd gymnastics every time he has the slightest thought about it, so he has been doing his absolute best not to consider the prospect at all.

Knock, knock, knock.

”Boys? Can I come in?” comes Fleamont’s voice.

Remus moves to open the door and the man steps in, pausing just as everyone else has so far as he notices his son all dressed up for what is likely the first time in his entire life.

”Oh,” he breathes, smiling through what seems like a small build-up of tears. For fuck’s sake, Sirius has had enough; he is about to burst into tears himself any moment now. “I thought I’d made the right decision in forbidding Effie from seeing you before the procession, but I fear I might be worse.”

”Dad,” James croaks, tears dangerously close to spilling over himself.

”Well, this is it, isn’t it?” Fleamont says, sniffing and breathing out a weird, light chuckle. “I have to admit, for all of your romantic tendencies, I was a little worried you wouldn’t ever be moving out.”

James copies the exhale-like chuckle breath-for-breath, tilting his head downwards as if to hide his face from view. “Believe me, I’m as surprised as you are. Probably a little less happy about it, though.”

Fleamont places a hand on either side of his son’s face as he brings it back up to face him, expression a little less emotional now.

”Now when did I say that?” he murmurs, gazing at James’ face like he is studying it for future reference. “We are very happy for you, James, be sure of that. But we are a little upset about losing you so early on, especially when we thought you may never—“

” Dad, ” James repeats in that croaky voice, throwing his arms around the man’s neck as he buries his face in his shoulder so his next words come out a little muffled. “You’re not losing me. Let’s be honest, you’ll never be completely rid of me.”

”Bugger,” comes Fleamont’s joke of a reply, but he returns the hug anyway.

Sirius doesn’t realise that a lump has formed in his throat until Remus gently slides an arm around his shoulders and squeezes reassuringly, like he is trying to remind him that he is here, and he always will be. Instinctively, Sirius reaches up to take the hand of the arm currently around his shoulders in his as he smiles softly and rests his head on Remus’ torso.

He may never have that right there with his biological parents, but he has never been a huge fan of science anyway. Who’s to decide who his true family is?

Pulling away slowly, Fleamont draws away and clears his throat before looking around at the rest of them with a comforting smile that only Potters are capable of.

”I’m warning you in advance,” he begins, looking between them. “I will be much, much worse at each and every one of your weddings. Especially you two, because, well, there are two of you.” He glances heavily at where Remus and Sirius are still tangled together, watching him, with his last words.

“We look forward to it,” Sirius replies easily, glancing up at Remus again to find that he is already staring back. Fuck, Sirius would willingly get lost in those eyes of his if he could—he really still is the same as the fifteen year old who came to a brutal realisation right at the beginning of year eleven. No, actually, he’s better now. And he’ll never make that mistake ever again, rest assured.

Fleamont’s lips twitch in a movement that Sirius swears he’s seen an exact copy of on James’ face before as he makes his way over to the door and tells them that they really should hurry up before Lily is in here divorcing James when they haven’t had the chance to actually get married yet. James immediately tells him that this is not funny.

That is when Fleamont opens the door and Marlene’s voice can be heard growing closer as she shouts their names and a bunch of incomprehensible Spanish which can only mean one thing.

Marlene McKinnon is pissed off.

*

There is a low buzz of chatter as Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and the couple’s parents assume their places to await the arrival of the bride and groom. Sirius recognises and waves to the Prewett twins—Gideon and Fabian—along with Frank Longbottom and his wife Alice Longbottom née Fortescue who had gotten married just over a year ago and are sickeningly happy. He’s kidding, he’s happy for them, really. They deserve to be happy, the lucky pricks.

Okay, he sounds a little indecisive, but he really does love them and wish them happiness in this world. Ew, he is never being compassionate or genuine ever again.

That thought is thrown out the window the second the hall goes silent and all eyes turn to the back of the hall where James and Lily are beginning their slow walk to the front. Fuck, Sirius all but tears up as he clutches Remus’ arm like his life depends on it. Okay fine, he cries a little.

Alright, alright, he sobs, but what do you want from him? His initials quite literally spell out the word ‘sob.’

Stepping down the aisle slowly, his arm intertwined with Lily’s, James appears to notice Sirius at the front crying his heart out and flashes him a warm grin, clearly used to this. In fairness, Sirius is most definitely the most emotional of the four of them. Remus, on the other hand, is certainly the least—Sirius loves him but he is downright cold-hearted when he wants to be. But he manages to make it look so good.

Okay, perhaps Peter had been correct to tell him that there is not enough therapy for him in this world.

Everyone returns to their seats as the couple reach the front of the hall where the officiator stands, waiting for them. Sirius had begged them to allow him the position, but in the end, it had come to choosing between best man and officiator and, well, it hadn’t even been a choice in Sirius’ mind.

Now here he sits; a best man.

“We are gathered here today to celebrate the matrimony of James Fleamont Potter and Lily Jane Evans,” the man begins, looking around at them all. “The both of them known for their kind, caring personalities, beloved by all…”

Admittedly, Sirius gets a little distracted at some point during his speech, deciding to take the flash cards from his pocket and double check his own speech meanwhile. Honestly, the man couldn’t make it any clearer that he has never communicated with James or Lily.

Sure, they have kind souls, James was raised by literal angels, for goodness sake; but set one of them off and see if you make it out alive. Their explosions usually coincide with some form of bigotry on behalf of another person, or merely someone constantly harassing them or their friends. They’re very protective people.

Unfortunately, Sirius pretty much zones out for a few minutes, and he is jolted back to the present by Remus accidentally-on-purpose nudging him with his elbow as the officiator begins speaking once more.

“If anyone should have any objection to the matrimony of these two people standing before me, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

The room is earthly silent as the three people standing at the front of the hall—bride, groom, and officiator—await any potential objections. Sirius’ lips twitch as he leans towards Remus beside him, planning on cracking a related joke, and he opens his mouth only to be interrupted by audibly shocked gasps on behalf of many of the procession. When he looks around at the crowd of guests, he too is dumbfounded to find that two instantly recognisable people have gotten to their feet; the both of them unblinking as they stare shamelessly at the fiancés and, with an almost practised unison, declare:

“I object.”

There is hardly another beat of silence before James and Lily respectively—and simultaneously—blurt out, “Regulus?” and “Mary?”

And that is when all hell breaks loose.

*

Fourth Year (Six Years Ago): Lily

Lily had been fourteen when she had made a certain discovery. The thing is, she should’ve known two years prior when Marlene asked for assistance with her first eyeliner, and Lily’s breath had hitched in her chest once she had realised that their position hadn’t exactly been… platonic. Or even a mere year earlier at the age of thirteen when she had met Alice who blurred the lines between platonic and romantic affection like a professional, and the one time that their hands brushed against each other’s Lily had blushed redder than her hair and sprinted away like her life depended on it.

But then again, Lily has always made up for what she misses in common sense with school-smarts.

And yet, the realisation had hit her. And it had hit her hard. This is how it had gone:

She had been heading up to her room, a test paper with a large ‘92%’ scrawled on the front being the reason for her slight disappointment. Of course, she hadn’t mentioned this to anyone—they had all thought of her as a swot who would complain about ninety-nine percent if she achieved one. And her friends had all done somewhat worse than her, so she hadn’t particularly wanted to bring it up with them. Hence, the quiet, less-hectic route to bed.

It had been after curfew, and quite dark in the corridor which she had been walking in, but suddenly, she had sensed another presence. Everything in her had prickled and prepared for any signs of someone headed in her direction, but nothing.

She had let her guard down for a moment, thinking that she had only been imagining things, and that had been when he had popped out of nowhere, grabbing her wrist to turn her around without warning.

” Severus. ”

”Lily.”

Immediately, she had yanked her arm out of his grip—he’s never been the strongest of people—with an expression of such fury that he had taken a step back.

”What do you want?” she had demanded, aching for the opportunity to walk away.

”I want to talk,” he had told her, swallowing as if it hurt his pride before adding, “To apologise.”

She had scoffed right in his face, taking a few steps backwards only to put some distance between them.

”Why? Because you regret saying it? But you call everyone else like me that hideous word, Severus,” she had practically spat, making him wince. “So why should I be different—an exception?”

“Because you are different,” he had informed her shamelessly, lowering her opinion of him even more, to depths that shouldn’t be humanly possible.

”And you think that’s a compliment? ” she had said, a hand in her hair fighting the urge to reach in and pull from sheer frustration. “You— just leave. Please—and I’m only saying this so I don’t do something I regret— please just leave. I don’t want to see you, or talk to you, or hear your worthless, backhanded apologies anymore! I’m done! So, for my sake and yours, do the right thing for once in your life, and leave me alone.”

She had turned away, thinking that that should be enough to keep him away for a bit, only to have her wrist taken hold of yet again. And her patience had already been reaching it’s end.

“Why is it that when Potter doesn’t leave you alone, he ends up your friend?” had come the accusation.

Gritting her teeth, she had attempted to pull her arm away again, only to find that his grip had tightened tenfold.

”You want to know the difference between you and James?” she had asked quietly; no longer angry, but pitying. “It’s that James isn’t a racist bigot who calls everyone of my race and religion slurs because it feeds his pathetic ego to think of himself as superior to them, and then has the fucking audacity to call me an exception . The difference between you and James, Severus? It’s that James will always be a hundred times the man you are, and I despise myself for not realising it sooner, for making excuses for you, and defending you when they called you out! Well, I’m done. You, Severus Snape, are a horrible person, who better not speak to me again unless you want to lose your fucking limbs.”

Snape had made a disbelieving, scoff-like noise in the back of his throat, still refusing to let her go, and he had just been about to retaliate verbally when someone had taken him from behind and slammed him into the wall opposite, clutching the front of his shirt to restrain him there. It had taken Lily barely another beat to realise just who they were.

”Mary?” she had blurted, surprised. “What are you—“

”Listen to me, you fucked-up, bigoted piece of shit,” she had spat through gritted teeth. “If you touch her, speak to her, or so much as breathe in her direction ever again, you’ll have to go through me. And I don’t play around with threats about taking your limbs, I act on them while you sleep . So you better think twice before you choose to be the ignorant, thick-headed prick that the whole school knows you to be. Got it?”

Snape had set his jaw, only watching her as if considering whether or not he had any chance of escaping. Once he had made sure that there would be no escaping the wrath of Mary MacDonald, he had stated stubbornly before muttering, “Yes.”

Mary had smirked, a simple switch in facial expression which had had Lily’s heart ready to pump out of her chest.

”Oh no, louder,” she had retorted, visibly angering him. “ Really admit it, go on. What’s wrong, angry that a girl got the better of you? You would be.”

”Mary,” Lily had begun, slowly walking forward. “It’s fine, I— I’m fine, really.”

”Except you’re not, though. And I’ll be fucking damned before I let him treat you like shit ever again. Remember your birthday, Lils?”

Oh, Lily had remembered. She remembers even now, how she had rushed into the dorm crying because of yet another stupid mistake on Snape’s behalf, to be comforted by Mary seeing as Marlene had been busy… she isn’t quite sure doing what. The girl had never told them.

Eventually, Mary had released Snape, taunting him using a few well-chosen words and phrases as he had walked away backwards, probably to ensure that she wouldn’t touch him as he went.

And then it had left the two of them.

”Are you okay?” Mary had asked gently. “Really okay.”

Lily had chosen to ignore the question altogether, choosing instead to ask one of her own.

”How long had you been standing there?”

A sharp inhale. “Lils, really, I didn’t know that it was you at first, otherwise I would have—“

”How long, Mary?”

Beat.

”Almost the entire time.”

“And you… stood there and watched? For what? Was it entertaining for you to see him get what he deserved? Did you—“

”What? No, Christ, Lils, of course not,” she had interrupted, taking Lily by the shoulders to bring them closer and give Lily a minor heart attack. “I just— it didn’t make sense for me to jump in while you were in the middle of ranting at him, and, well, I— I may or may not have, er…”

”What is it?” she had asked, much more gentle now.

”I kind of just… got distracted watching you,” Mary had mumbled, like she had been sharing a rather embarrassing secret.

”You did?”

”I don’t know what happened to me, I just— you were letting him have it, and I swear your eyes were bloody sparkling, and I was—well, there’s no other way to put it—I was… mesmerised at the sight of you.”

“Oh,” Lily had breathed, because that—well—that little speech had done things to her heart that no one else had ever been able to achieve. And then?

Perhaps it had been the pure fatigue she had been feeling since the beginning of revision, perhaps it had simply been the build up of strong emotions over the day, or the last fifteen minutes. But something had clouded Lily’s judgment well enough for her to lean in a little closer and press her lips to Mary’s.

They had been slow, at first, uncertain. Of what, Lily still has no idea to this day.

That had promptly been thrown out the window the second that Mary had gotten closer instead of drawing away, giving Lily a boost of confidence with which she had taken the other girl by the waist and pulled her even nearer, intoxicated by the feel of her—the taste.

Mary had walked her backwards into the wall which she had been holding Snape up against a mere moment ago—and not to boast, but Lily much prefers this kind of collision with the wall to the former.

Their lips attached, Mary’s hands in Lily’s hair, and Lily’s on Mary’s waist, Lily remembers thinking that she had been willing to remain like that forever, even if it had meant that she would die of thirst or hunger. In that moment, she had been willing to do anything to remain with Mary for eternity.

Well, life has always loved its ironies.

*

Fifth Year (Five Years Ago): James

James was fifteen years old when he had made a certain discovery. The thing is, he should’ve known two years prior when his face would grow hot whenever Remus happened to take his shirt off, or even a mere year earlier, at fourteen, when he wouldn’t be able to look Frank, his rugby captain, in the eyes while the boy had nothing but a towel covering him after a shower in the changing rooms.

But by then, James had been certain that his glasses were both required for him to see, and a metaphor for the fact that he is the most oblivious human being to ever graze the planet.

And yet, the realisation had hit him. It had hit him hard. This is how it had gone:

He had been leaving the changing rooms last after a particularly frustrating match—his first-ever loss. And he hadn’t exactly been taking it very well.

Not because of the usual reasons one might suspect, no, James has never really had much of a problem with sportsmanship; he had been more disappointed in himself than angry or annoyed about the loss. It had simply felt like he had let everyone down. The bitter ‘aw’ing of the crowd at the end of the match hadn’t exactly been helpful with this particular emotion.

The sun had set, it was almost pitch-black outside, and yet once James had closed the door of the changing room behind himself, he had immediately sensed that he was not alone. Deciding to ignore it, he had only been able to take a few agonising steps before murmuring, “I know you’re there.”

In hindsight, that hadn’t really been a lie—he had known that someone had been out there with him that night. He just hadn’t known that it had been the least predicted person in the school.

Whoever-it-was had deliberately ignored this statement, as if James had been bluffing, so he had called out again. And again when that had gotten no more response than the first.

So, in a moment of useless adrenaline, he had taken a mental note of the sound of footsteps and the direction they were coming from, before proceeding to grab the mystery person by the front of their shirt and snapping around to face them, trying to get a clear look at their face. Imagine the look on his when he had come face-to-face with none other than Regulus Black—an opponent, and Sirius’ brother.

Not that they hadn’t conversed before, James had made sure to bother Regulus every time he had gotten the chance, simply because he had found it amusing. Don’t make too much fun, he had been a very oblivious teenager.

The instant reflex had been to let him go, turning around exasperatedly before spinning right back.

”What the hell, Regulus?” he had snapped, not realising that the reason for this hadn’t been anger, but so much built up emotion which had been threatening to bubble over for ages. “I could’ve hit you!”

Regulus had only scoffed, rolling his eyes towards the sky. “Okay, now repeat it and this time, actually try to convince me that you’re capable of violence.”

That had had James a little… frazzled, he won’t lie. What kind of fifteen-year-old talked like that anyway? ‘Capable of violence,’ what did that even mean? Of course James is capable of hitting someone, especially if said someone freaks him the fuck out in the middle of the night after a dreadful match.

”Why are you following me?” he had asked instead, choosing to divert the conversation to one in which he won’t be made fun of. Boy, he had had a lot to learn.

”Don’t go inflating that big head of yours any more than it already has been,” had come the sharp reply which, James knows that it’s bizarre, but the urge to burst out laughing in that moment had been severely difficult to ignore. “I just— this is your first loss, and I wanted to make sure that you wouldn’t do anything stupid. Because you’re important to Sirius.”

“You wanted to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid?” James had repeated slowly, a hint of amusement clearly heard in his tone for Regulus had rolled his eyes again as he had scowled.

”For Sirius, and only for Sirius,” he had insisted. “So don’t—“

”Think this had anything to do with me, and that you possibly care for me a tiny bit more than you let on?” James had finished, grinning now. “Bit late for that.”

James still remembers the way that Regulus had set his jaw, visibly irritated by James, and that—that had made him want to continue talking with the boy and never stop, even if it had meant irritating him like that for the rest of their lives. He really should have known better.

”Don’t flatter yourself, Potter,” he had seethed, stepping ever closer as James’ heartbeat had begun to sprint. “I know you think of yourself as the popular, athletic, beloved-by-all kind of person, but believe me, I am one of the only exceptions to that particular adjective, and I will continue to be for the rest of my life, so don’t go thinking otherwise.”

When he looks back on that moment, James is painfully aware of just how stupid he had been. Regulus had been walking forwards, and he matching the boy’s stride beside him, and all he could think had been that he was breathtaking.

Of course, he hadn’t thought that this might be because he was into blokes, goodness no, for James Potter is the world’s biggest idiot.

Wondering how he had finally gotten there? He’s almost there now.

Eventually, Regulus had returned to the taunting which he had always been incapable of living without, and that had riled James up more than he likes to admit.

After a few more minutes of this, James had—for the first time ever to Regulus—blurted out, “Shut up.”

”Make me,” had come the immediate response, barely waiting a beat before continuing with his taunting. James should have seen it coming from miles away, really, but he hadn’t. How could someone be so stupid?

They had carried on that way, walking towards the school, Regulus making comments and James doing his best not to reply with the knowledge that he hadn’t been at his kindest at that very moment. But even the most patient of people have their limits.

”I’m sure, but do you really think—“ Regulus had been saying when James had given in and, taking hold of the front of his shirt again, slammed him into a wall. That had shut him up quite quickly, yet James had still felt the necessity to repeat, “I told you to shut up.”

Regulus, being the infuriatingly calm person he is, had only smirked, leaned in a little closer, and said, “And I told you to make me.”

Well, there hadn’t been much room for debate in James’ mind just what method he had been supposed to use to shut the younger boy up. He had already been able to feel his gaze constantly diverting downwards slightly to where Regulus’ lips were still frozen in that cocky smirk of his that James had known so well by then.

You can probably guess what had followed that particular chain of events.

It hadn’t taken much effort at all to simply lean forwards and connect their lips, but that hadn’t been enough for him. Could never do anything halfway, James, no.

So, in a moment of pure adrenaline and awful judgement, James had pressed even closer until there hadn’t been room to move anymore. Apparently, Regulus hadn’t minded this position at all, for he had proceeded to tangle his fingers in James’ hair—the boy in question willing to wear them as hair clips for the rest of his life during that moment—and hissed curses under his breath all while refusing to part their lips for a second.

James hadn’t known it then, but that would be the start of an addiction-like relationship he would have with Regulus—more specifically his mouth— for the next year and a bit.

As for his hands, James has always had a problem with them; he never quite knows what to do with them. No matter what he tries it never feels quite right, or natural. So when, by pure reflex, he had slipped them around Regulus’ back and something about the movement had just fit, he had decided that this must have been what he had been born for.

Unfortunately for James, there are humanly required things that are quite impossible to do when one’s lips are attached to another’s. So, they had been forced to break apart, rather cruelly in James’ opinion, by survival instincts. 

The both of them breathless, they had only watched each other for a moment, looking the other up and down before focusing on their own ruffled clothes and slightly swollen lips.

Or, well, Regulus had. James had been too busy obsessing over every last detail of what had happened in the last ten minutes, feeling absolutely fucking ecstatic before something horrible had dawned on him.

”Oh,” he had said, voice trembling ever so slightly as he stared at Regulus. “Oh fuck.”

Regulus had taken a break from fixing his clothes and turned to look at him, eyebrows furrowed.

”What is it?” he had asked curiously.

“I just snogged my best friend’s brother,” he had stated, and that was when the harsh reality of the situation had sunk in. “Oh, fuck me. What was I thinking? Sirius’ll kill us, but more specifically me . He’ll never forgive me for this, shit, I’m absolutely—“

Regulus apparently always knows what to say or do when it comes to James, for he had interrupted the rambling by simply placing a hand on his cheek and kissing him again—just a simple brush of the lips this time.

But even that had had James’ thoughts of loyalty to Sirius shattered. He simply couldn’t give up everything with Regulus, even if at that point there hadn’t been much with Regulus. Yet it could develop into something more, and James had really wanted to find out what that something more might mean.

”If he makes you stop doing something that makes you happy, simply because it doesn’t fit his convenience, then he isn’t a very good best friend, James.”

James had swallowed, but nodded.

If only he had been a little smarter. If only he hadn’t fallen for the tricks. If only he hadn’t—

Well, it doesn’t make much of a difference, does it? He had fallen for it, and he had gotten his heart broken, but he sure as hell won’t be making that mistake ever again.

For all he cares, Regulus Black can go fuck himself.

Chapter Text

Present Day: James

He and Lily only stand there, gaping, for a moment from sheer shock. Because it’s impossible , and yet—

A loud burst of chatter has since erupted, nobody quite sure of what to do—the officiator always asks whether or not there are objections, and no one ever actually speaks out. So just how are they supposed to go on from this now?

Apparently, Regulus and Mary have planned this, for the both of them slowly make their way to the front, maintaining eye contact with James and Lily respectively the entire time until they are barely a metre away from the almost-married couple.

And then, at the exact same time, they switch their gazes to the officiator to calmly inform them that James and Lily belong to either one of them. No one else.

And that is when the guests really go wild—James is fairly certain he recognises one of his auntie’s voice screeching as loud as her voice box will allow. 

Dazed, all James is capable of for the next few minutes is looking around; first at the officiator who really looks like they’re going through it at the moment, then to Lily who’s expression matches his—unnecessarily apologetic with a hint of something indescribable—and finally to Regulus because of course, even five years later, his eyes are still infuriatingly magnetised to him. Fuck, this is bad.

Regulus, being the frustrating person he is, only stares right back in silence, and in his peripheral vision James can see Lily and Mary locked in a similar stalemate. Looking away should be so easy, all they have to do is move their eyes mere degrees, and yet now it feels like an impossible feat.

Luckily for himself, James doesn’t have to do anything, for right then Sirius, Remus, Peter, Marlene, and Dorcas choose to make an appearance.

As usual, it is Marlene and Sirius that get there first.

“Mary?”

“Regulus?”

This is worse than bad. James is screwed in a million different ways, and not a single one is fun.

“What the fuck is wrong with you!?” Marlene bursts out as she heads around Mary to stand protectively in front of Lily. “Not only do you disappear and ignore the wedding invite, but you have the audacity to show up unannounced to wreak havoc with— Regulus? Since when is this a thing?”

Alright, perhaps she has veered off topic slightly, but in all honesty James is quite interested in the answer to that particular question too. What is wrong with him?

After yet another rather uncomfortable beat of silence—well, between the nine of them at least—Mary maintains eye contact with Marlene as she asks, “Are you done?”

“Oh, she is, but I haven’t even started yet,” comes Sirius’ voice, audibly growing angry as he turns to his brother. “You stayed in that place, I heard nothing of you for fucking years, and people assumed you were dead. Didn’t you think to, I don’t know, let your brother know that you were safe and breathing instead of showing up to his best friend’s wedding and claiming said best friend as yours?”

In a move scarily similar to Mary’s a few moments prior, Regulus calmly returns his older brother’s gaze as, he too, questions whether Sirius is finished now. That visibly does not go down very well with the man in question, but he furiously nods anyway.

James finds himself mentally noting the changes in Regulus’ voice before he can tell his brain that this is really not the time.

“Perfect,” Mary announces dryly, looking around at the rest of them before adding, “Anyone else got anything to say before we explain?”

There are shared looks of confusion and curiosity as James seriously considers raising his hand to ask what the hell they are doing here, but being aware that they will answer that question in detail in brief seconds, he manages to keep his mouth firmly shut. For the time being.

“First of all,” Regulus begins, oddly loud and relaxed for his personality and the current situation of the room. “I did not stay in that house voluntarily. I know you think otherwise—“

“I know otherwise,” Sirius interrupts, apparently unable to keep a hold on his mouth. “You always were a coward, weren’t you, Reggie? Their perfect little angel, until you told them the truth and had to worm your way back into their good books. And how did that work out for you?”

Regulus only sets his jaw like a man attempting to stick to a vow about remaining calm at all times, no matter what. At least, that’s what James assumes.

(Stop reading here for the first TW).

“I did not stay there voluntarily,” he repeats with that same air of calamity which James has never seen him maintain for so long. “You know of their history; I say that to all of you. The Black’s were known for getting rid of people they didn’t require the existence of with methods that, well, weren’t exactly legal. Now, my imbecile of a brother, consider the threats and prioritised murder plans concocted for their final heir’s newly-discovered boyfriend—one which would deny them grandchildren, and kill the bloodline simultaneously. Consider the pure terror injected into that sixteen-year-old boy who had believed that there had been no other choice but to doom himself for eternity. For once in your life, consider before making drastic assumptions and impulsive decisions. That is all I ask of you.”

(Start reading again here for the first TW).

The effect that those words have on James is somehow dreadful and incredible all at once. He feels as though someone has punched him in the gut, and also as if he has been woken and informed that Christmas has come early.

Because Regulus hadn’t meant it; those words he had so cruelly spoken almost four years ago. The words which had haunted James for what had felt like a lifetime, and still do at night when he is unable to sleep.

But that also means that their separation had been pointless, unnecessary. And he hasn’t the foggiest clue where that leaves him with Regulus or Lily.

So, in the most relatable words ever spoken, now what?

Present Day: Lily

“And you?” Marlene demands from Mary, her arms crossed stubbornly. “Don’t tell me your mum threatened Lily too, because no one here is buying that bull—“

“Oh no,” Mary interjects with a small smile that has Lily’s heart doing backflips all over again. “My story isn’t quite as dramatic as Regulus’, but I did have my fair share of adventures and heartbreak.”

Lily laughs then; she is well aware that their situation isn’t amusing in the least, but she can’t help it. Honestly, the audacity of Mary MacDonald.

“Heartbreak?” she repeats incredulously. “You wouldn’t know heartbreak if it slapped you full in the face. You don’t have the right to feel upset about any of it, because it was all your fault! You broke up with me over text, and then you disappeared off the face of the planet right after! I messaged you back, I called you, and when that didn’t work I showed up at your front door to be told that you didn’t want to see me! So don’t you dare talk to me about heartbreak like you’ve ever felt it, because you, Mary MacDonald, are fucking heartless.”

There is yet more silence between the nine of them as the guests are slowly cleared out by Euphemia, Fleamont, and a few other relatives.

“Heartless,” Mary says, as if tasting the word on her tongue. (Stop reading here for the second TW). “Then tell me, oh Great Master of Heartbreak, who opened the door every time you showed up at my house?”

Lily’s surety of her rightness falters slightly at the clear confidence in Mary’s tone. Because she remembers, and yet—

“Your dad.”

“Mm. And who had I confessed to you about being terrified to come out to?”

Beat.

“Your dad.”

A smirk and a nod. “And who had I immediately jumped up to defend when you had asked about the marks on my body?”

Another beat. Swallow.

“Your dad.”

“And finally, the grand finale, who had I told you checked my phone on the daily and had full access to it at all times, so we had to be careful about our messages?”

(Start reading again here for the second TW).

Lily’s heartbeat is gradually picking up its pace.

“Okay, okay, I get it. But that still doesn’t explain how—“

“He found out?” Mary finishes, appearing rather triumphant now. “Ah, well, that was the vengeful work of a greasy-haired piece of shit who I had let have it a week or two earlier.”

Oh. Oh fuck. She remembers that very vividly indeed—the rage on Snape’s face as Mary had publicly ranted at him and humiliated him because he had used some colourful language with Lily.

She had known befriending him had been a mistake. Now look where it’s gotten her; she had lost the love of her life for no apparent reason.

Just let her get her hands on the bastard—she is going to tear him apart. For what he did to her, but for ruining Mary’s life too.

As far as she’s concerned, Severus Snape is a dead man.

Three And A Half Years Ago (Seventh Year): James

James had been seventeen years old when he had had his first true experience of heartbreak. This is how it had gone:

By then, he and Regulus had gotten into a kind of routine of sneaking around, seeing as no one—especially Sirius—could know about them. And to be perfectly honest, James hadn’t minded it too much. In fact, he had understood.

Well, one day, they had agreed to meet up at one of their spots, but something about Regulus had clearly been different, troubled even. And eventually James hadn’t been able to bear it anymore so he had questioned it. That had promptly led to shit much faster than anticipated.

“It’s nothing, really, James, just leave it,” Regulus had insisted, and oh, how James wishes now that he would’ve listened. Unfortunately, sixteen-year-old James hadn’t been the pillar of mental greatness twenty-year-old James tries to pretend he was.

“It’s obviously not nothing, Reg, and it seems to be bothering you,” he had countered. “Just tell me.”

From that moment on, James had made a vow to never use those three words again. Because that had been the second time he had spoken them to a Black brother and made a mess of things rather spectacularly.

The next ten minutes had been spent shouting, arguing, tearing up, and downright sobbing when he hadn’t been able to bear it any longer. Because Regulus had denied ever having feelings for him in the first place, and told him that it had been a mere game to mess with his head all along. James hadn’t believed it at first, hadn’t wanted to believe it, but Regulus has always had a way of convincing him that no one else has. Even then, when it had meant tearing his heart into a million little irreversible pieces.

“I tried to warn you,” he had spat, while James had stood there in shocked silence. “Don’t you remember? I told you this would end badly, and I believe your exact words were ‘I can deal with a little heartbreak.’ So, is it as easy as it sounded?”

James had shaken his head wildly, unwilling to accept it, as if that could possibly make it all go away. He had thought that they had had something, that they had really—

“Why?” he had managed to croak after a minute or two. “Why did you— why would— why me?”

After all of the pain and anguish, that had been what it had come down to. Why, of all the people in the world, had Regulus chosen to destroy James?

“Oh, you’re smarter than that, mon amor,”   he had emphasised, making James feel as though someone had reached down his throat, grabbed his heart, and squeezed. To hear the words he had once been so desperate for Regulus to say, had then felt like a way of torture. “Have a little think. Who used to be Sirius’ favourite before you? Who’s life was perfectly peaceful and normal before you? Who has to come across you everywhere from the common room to the rugby field? Hm?”

While James’ heart had refused to believe it, his brain had sensed the obvious logic in the words, and that had been the thing to tip him over the edge. Ironic, isn’t it?

That evening, James had done something he had never ever done before.

Upon making it into the common room, and then to his individual room which he had shared with Sirius, Remus, Peter, and Kingsley, James had almost fallen through the door, and proceeded to quite literally collapse into tears, then and there. His legs hadn’t been able to take it anymore, nor had his eyes, and it hadn’t exactly been ideal for everything in him to give in at the same time, but he had had bigger worries on his mind then.

It was that day that Sirius had vowed to ensure James would never go through something like that ever again.

Three Years Ago (Seventh Year): Lily

Lily had been seventeen years old when she had had her first true experience of heartbreak. This is how it had gone:

It was the Easter holidays of her sixth year, the stress about exams had been worrying her, but her teachers had assured her that she would be passing with flying colours, which had surprisingly helped a bit. She had messaged Mary, asking whether she wanted to come over for a studying session, when she had gotten a rather abrupt reply.

I’m breaking up with you. I’m sorry to do it this way, but I’m transferring schools next term, so we won’t see each other again. Goodbye, Lily.

And that had been the last she had ever seen or heard of Mary MacDonald.

Obviously, it hadn’t gone down well with her. At all. Lily had sent dozens of messages back, called her again and again and again, but it had been as though Mary had disappeared off the face of the Earth. And then, she had done something she has never done before.

After contacting Marlene who had showed up in no less than ten minutes—to this day Lily has no idea how she had managed it, their houses had been a good twenty minutes apart—Lily had proceeded to break down crying before she could ever get the words out.

That had been the day that Marlene had vowed to never let Lily go through something like that ever again.

The thing is, Lily has always been a bit too perseverant when it comes to… everything. So she hadn’t had the ability to stop there.

Despite everything that Marlene had told her, Lily had taken the bus to Mary’s house the very next day, only to reach the front door and be greeted by her dad who had immediately told her that Mary did not want to see nor talk to her. She had taken it lightly at first, jokingly telling him to let her in anyway, as a surprise, but she had quickly realised that the situation was much more serious.

Dignity forgotten, she had eventually begun to beg and plead with him to even allow her to glimpse the girl, but the man had been stubborn enough to rival Petunia. In the end, she had had to go home.

Lily and Marlene had spent every waking hour together after that, the latter refusing to leave the former alone for a mere second just because. She hasn’t told the girl this, but she has always secretly been extremely grateful to her for that.

However, no matter what Marlene told her, how much time they spent together, how long the girl had spent trying to comfort her, Lily had only ever been able to have the extremely sad thought that she would never quite be Mary.

And that had said it all, hadn’t it?

Lily had thought that she would never get over Mary. They had spent the better part of three years together, and had such an abrupt end to their relationship that it had seemed impossible to her then. In the end, the event which had snapped her final emotional connection to the girl had been something quite ridiculous.

It had been—three? four?—some sort of ungodly hour in the middle of the night, when her phone had buzzed and woken her. She has never been one for electronic use that late, but something in her brain had told her that she wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight anyway, so where was the harm?

To this day, she remembers the way that she had suddenly sat up in her bed as the contact name had come into view, gripping her phone so tightly that her hand had turned pale with lack of blood circulation. Because after two whole weeks, Mary had messaged her. And Lily had been completely willing to forgive her in that moment; some part of her probably still is. But she’ll be damned if she allows that part of her free emotional rein ever again.

As for the message itself, well. Well. It had read:

I’ve been told about the way you keep coming over here. Please don’t do this, Lils. There’s nothing you can do to change this, so please, take this as my last request from you, and don’t try when there isn’t any reason left to. I’m sorry, really, but there are no other options.

That had ruined Lily in a way that she never had been before. And it had also been the reason for her calling Marlene in the middle of the night, doing her absolute best to keep quiet while sobbing her fucking heart out so as not to awake the rest of the house.

That had led to Marlene immediately cursing Mary with words Lily hadn’t even heard before once she had gotten a look at the girls swollen eyes and tear-stained face. They had talked until the sun had risen in the sky and Marlene had been able to hear her mum’s slippers making their way towards her room. She had been sure to assure Lily that she loved her, and would do anything for her, but her mother was a frightening woman on another level, and she couldn’t do anything for her if she was dead.

It had taken about another three hours before there had been a knock at her door and Marlene had entered, prepared to spend the entire day—and if need be, night—there.

To say the least, it hadn’t exactly been easy to watch when Dorcas had come into the picture and Lily had to be reminded every day of what she had lost.

Fourth Year (Seven Years Ago): Regulus

Regulus had been thirteen when he had first become aware of…certain feelings towards another boy. The unfortunate side of things? That boy had happened to be his brother’s best friend who was the polar opposite of him. Without exaggeration, their only similarity had been that they both enjoyed playing rugby; and that particular factor would mess with Regulus’ head rather spectacularly quite often.

The thing about rugby is that it is a contact sport—players frequently tackle each other to the ground without much regard for the other’s wellbeing. Regulus’ issue with this had been quite obvious, really. Hardly anyone in the world would be completely unbothered by their crush roughly grabbing them and throwing them both to the floor. Now, Regulus is and always has been the kind of person who can hide things about himself with remarkable ease—whether this is information, feelings, anything. To say the least, he’s had some practise.

But, well, something like that does get quite difficult to ignore and push away after a while. And eventually, Regulus had ended up lying there, on the grass, dazed, for a few seconds each time before he had been able to gather his wits and stand. After a couple of weeks of this, he had been confronted by the team captain.

“Listen, Regulus,” he had begun, already cluing Regulus in to what was about to happen without meaning to. “You’re a great player, and I really don’t want to have to kick you off the team. Heaven knows where we’d be without you. But you’ve been a bit…off for a little while now, and—well—as captain, I have to do what’s best for the team. So, either you figure out whatever’s going on and fix it, or I’m going to have no other choice, alright?”

He had only nodded in response, incapable of verbal communication in that moment. Because the problem with what Flint had told him had been that Regulus had known what his issue had been.

But James Potter has always been rather inescapable.

After the talk with Flint, Regulus had simply decided to push it all to one side and do his absolute best to ignore it, at least while on the pitch. Surprisingly, that had been working out quite well for him until a few months later when…

When.

It had been following a particularly frustrating match that Regulus had exited the changing rooms to make his way back to the school. However, on the way there, he had been interrupted by quick, jogging footsteps and an instantly recognisable call of “Regulus!”

Of course, he had only sped up, having no plans to stop to chat with James of all people, but apparently being friends with his brother requires personality traits similar to said brother, for James had simply continued following him until he had caught up and actually passed him to step in front of him as if that could make him stop. Unfortunately, James’ reflexes are quicker than Regulus’, so every time he had attempted to swerve around the boy, James had only stepped in his way.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Eventually, as one does, he had had enough.

“What do you want?” he had snapped, frustrated that this had to happen to him, now of all times.

James had only let out a breathless sort of chuckle which—when you think about it—made sense seeing as he had been running a few seconds prior. Holding his hands up in defeat, he had looked at Regulus with that earnest innocence of his before murmuring, “I just want to talk, alright? I’m not— I’m not here to bother you, well, not like I usually am, at least. Apparently I bother you either way, but—“

Why him? Of all the people in the world, why had the universe chosen to give Regulus the middle finger when he had already been rather annoyed?

“James,” he had interrupted the rambling, causing James to reach an abrupt pause, blink, and continue to stare at him like before. “What do you want?”

”Oh. Right, I—don’t say no straight away, yeah? Jus—just hear me out before you—“

”James.”

”Sorry. Anyway, er, Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and—“

”No.”

He had turned around and begun to walk away—rather pointlessly, seeing as he had come from that way—when, cursing, James had repeated the movement of bringing him up short and refusing to let him go.

Regulus has always been quite the cliché, really, which seems quite unexpected for him, so he’s always been quite fascinated by and enamoured with the sky—more specifically, the stars. Trust him, he is painfully aware of how terribly, embarrassingly cliché this is, but he’s never been able to help it. That is one of the differences between him and Sirius—his older brother has never much cared about the bright balls of fire after which they were named—but Regulus has always enjoyed studying it. In fact, he would often visit the school’s astronomy tower (he’s also painfully aware of just how posh he was, and likely still is) simply to watch the sky.

That night had been the first in a while that he hadn’t taken a trip up the familiar, spiral staircase. The reason? Regulus had been in a rather ridiculous and pathetic strop against the universe, and had refused to marvel at some of it’s more brilliant contents merely because.

The third thing he is painfully aware of? He was a disappointingly stupid child.

Not that he could see it at the time.

The biggest problem with this had been that James only tended to make him stupider. That had led to some…bad decisions. But he had had to face the consequences, in the end, and it had all ended just like he had told James it would.

Abruptly, unexpectedly, painfully.

So no, that particular evening hadn’t been the last in which the universe had given him the middle finger without quite literally sending one down from the skies.

The worst part? It hadn’t been the first, either.

Third Year (Seven Years Ago): Mary

Mary had been newly thirteen years old when she had first become aware of…certain feelings towards another girl. The unfortunate side of things? That girl had happened to be one of her best friends, someone too close to her to lose if something were to go wrong between them.

Too close to risk it.

The thing is, being the extremely close friends that they were, and roommates on top of it all, had meant that Mary saw Lily…much too frequently to keep a level head at all times.

It’s just that they were constantly together. Sitting beside each other on a bed when their thighs would bump; walking alongside one another when their fingers would brush; chatting casually when Mary would find her gaze uncontrollably, inevitably sliding downwards ever so slightly to concentrate on Lily’s moving mouth instead, often pestered by thoughts of occupying her lips with her own.

One day, it had gotten too much to ignore and so—in a moment of awful judgment and frantic panic—Mary had blurted out a pathetic excuse and dashed off to the bathroom, locking herself in and lowering the toilet seat to give herself somewhere to perch before her legs gave in completely. She had just about made it, shaking with the knowledge that there would be no escaping the questions and visible curiosity once she plucked up the courage to actually open the door.

That had taken her almost an entire hour.

Eventually, she had gotten to her feet—no longer shaking, at least—and splashed some water on her face before slowly unlocking and opening the door. Thoughts occupied with deep breathing, she had stepped out to be immediately faced with a worried Lily asking whether she was alright and if she was feeling better now.

She had been such a stupid child.

Insisting that she had been fine, Mary had muttered something about being tired and jumped into bed with no further explanations, closing the curtains around her bed to make clear that she did not want company.

Lily has always been respective of people’s privacy—something which Mary has always appreciated about her. Marlene, on the other hand, has always been rather ferocious with her friendships.

Mary’s peaceful alone time had lasted for the better part of two hours before Marlene had entered the room and must have instantly understood something, for she had proceeded to crawl through the curtains onto Mary’s bed and sat there, only watching her for a moment. The silence had been unbearable.

Mary had stared back for a minute, then two, then three, before she had whispered, “How do you do it?”

Marlene had been out as lesbian for almost two years by then—well, to her friends, at least—and had confessed about a torturous crush on one of her rugby nemeses to Lily and Mary roughly a year after coming out to them.

They had done their best to comfort her and encourage her, but they hadn’t actually understood what she had been going through, so their advice had been fairly useless.

Mary had never truly understood why the girl had found it so difficult to deal with until she had been faced with the experience herself.

That’s the thing about life, though, isn’t it? You can pretend to understand what someone is going through, or even feel as though you genuinely get it; but you never truly understand until you’re forced to go through it first-hand. And Mary has been through an awful lot.

Instead of offering comforting words such as ‘it will get better,’ Marlene had been true to her personality and murmured back, “Do what?”

“This, just— everything,” Mary had spluttered, unsure of how to explain it and annoyed at the girl’s false obliviousness. “How do you go about your day knowing she doesn’t feel the same? That some part of her might even be disgusted by you for it?”

“Mare,” Marlene had said, which loosely translated to ‘look at me.’ “It’s Lily. If she wasn’t accepting of this, would she and I still be as close as we are? Would she be able to come over to my house and feel completely comfortable in my bedroom? Would she be able to act like nothing has changed, if she felt otherwise?”

”But—“

”Look, sometimes you like someone, and they don’t feel the same. Sometimes they like you, but you don’t feel the same. Sometimes you both feel the same, but it doesn’t work out anyway. Regardless of feelings, Mare, or gender, eventually, things that are meant to be, will be. And I wouldn’t trust that our dear old Lilith doesn’t swing the other way, if you know what I mean.”

Mary had sat up so quickly that had she been any quicker her spine probably wouldn’t have made it.

“What? What are you talking about?”

”I have my reasons,” is all Marlene had told her. “But even if I did know something for sure, which I don’t, that wouldn’t be my secret to tell, alright? She might not know yet, so you can try being just a little optimistic, love. If you want to, try telling her and see how she takes it. You never know, she might just immediately give in and give you the snog of your life.”

The expression on Mary’s face must have revealed a lot of her thoughts because Marlene had promptly bursted into laughter and hopped off of the bed when Mary had pelted her with a pillow.

To say the least, she had been able to sleep a little easier that night than the ones previous.

Yet she never had built up the courage to tell Lily her feelings.

Chapter Text

Present Day: Lily

Taking deep breaths, she paces the room in which she had gotten ready a mere twenty minutes ago. This is bad. Oh, fuck, this is very bad.

What is she going to do? She had been about to marry James before the interruption, so logic dictates that that is what she should do following this disaster of a wedding. Only now she isn’t so sure whether her heart had been utterly, one hundred percent set on it. Some small part of her is telling her that she had been settling, but honestly Lily doesn’t trust any part of herself at the moment; big or small.

The thing is, Lily loves James—she really does. But she’s always been rather terrible at telling the difference between platonic and romantic attraction. And, well, she had been doing this with the knowledge that Mary had been as good as dead, but now that she knows otherwise, what does she do?

Lily’s feelings for Mary have always been rather… unforgettable. And it would seem that not only is she unable to forget about them, but unable to get over them too.

Is she a horrible person? Are these only the usual wedding doubts? Or is there something deeper within them? She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t—

The door opens to reveal James who looks as ruffled and confused as she feels. Marlene has been watching her pace for the last five minutes straight, calling her name exasperatedly in an attempt to stop her, but she’s learnt by now that when Lily is determined to do something, no one can stop her. And honestly, Lily thinks she’s earned the right to freak out at least a little by now.

James only glances at her and sighs, immediately moving forward to envelope her in a hug which she returns gratefully. James’ body language has always told the truth better than his words, so knowing him for years equips one with the knowledge of what it is he is truly thinking without him speaking a word.

Instantly, she understands that they are in the exact same boat here, and while she feels as though some part of her should feel a little betrayed by it, she finds that she can’t. It would be quite hypocritical of her to say the least.

He exhales again, chin resting on her head, and whispers, “I know. I know, Lils.”

She doesn’t want to ask it. Her breathing is finally beginning to even out, but she has to.

”What are we going to do?” she replies, just as quiet.

There is a pause, about two beats, before James is responding back with, “I don’t know. I really don’t know. Fuck, this is mental. ”

One of the boys’ superpowers has always been the ability to make the rest of them laugh when nobody feels like it in any way, shape, or form. Lily finds that she’s quite grateful for it now as she chuckles softly into his shoulder.

The both of them hear the door click as it opens and closes, presumably to let Marlene out, but neither of them move for another minute or two. They stand there for a bit, simply breathing, because, well, when you’re going through something as unusual and stressful as this, the only person that can truly comfort you is the one who is going through the exact same thing.

Eventually, they have to break apart, and James immediately swallows and opens his mouth, but she interrupts before he can get there, already knowing what he had been about to say.

”No. No,” she repeats, a little sterner this time when he only opens his mouth again. “Don’t you dare apologise, James. You haven’t done anything wrong. You didn’t tell them to come here and object, they did it of their own acc—“

”But I— Lils, please don’t hate me for this, but some part of me is wondering…” he trails off, but it’s enough. She gets it; really gets it, because she feels the same way. They’ve always understood each other in a way that no one else has been able to relate to. Lily had used to think that it was love.

But now…

She sighs, looking at him with an expression made up of pity and understanding. James Potter, the man with an ego to battle the size of the sun, always places blame on himself for everything. Who’d have thought?

”I’m not mad,” she tells him gently, and his eyes fill with such gratitude and hope that her heart breaks a little. “James, what kind of hypocrite would I be to be mad at you for doing exactly what I’m doing now?”

It takes him a moment—she can tell. He considers her words before his head snaps up to look at her with full understanding, and she can practically see the ‘oh’ written in his mind.

”You—“ he pauses, swallowing. “You too?”

She looks at him apologetically, but only receives a look that says ‘don’t you dare,’ so she slowly moves over to the sofa and slumps onto it, uncaring about creasing her precious wedding dress anymore. It takes a minute, but James does eventually join her, watching her curiously.

”Yeah,” she admits quietly. “Me too. And I feel absolutely shit for it, but I—“

”Can’t help it,” James finishes, because of course he does.

The two of them sit there, contemplating quite literally everything in silence—not awkward but not exactly comfortable considering the situation—until James has the courage to say what she can’t.

”Lils?” he says carefully, and she immediately knows. But she wants him to be the one to say it. “I— maybe we should… postpone this. Until we figure out where to go from here. Tell me I’m not crazy, because I—“

”You’re not crazy,” she interjects, finally turning back to him to see his expression instantly soften in relief. “I agree with you. We’re both too… everything to make a decision right now, so we should—yeah, we should wait. It’s for the best, really.”

Smiling gently, James slides towards her a little so that he can place an arm over her shoulders and pull her to his side—a half-hug of some sort. She leans over to rest her head on his shoulder in response, and that’s enough for the both of them, for now.

It’ll have to be.

They’re silent like that for a while—probably almost ten minutes—before James speaks out.

”Lily?” he says, to which she lifts her head to face him; this feels important. “I really do love you, you know. Just maybe not—“

”In the way you thought,” she completes, because of course she does. “I know, James. I know.”

More silence.

Yeah, this’ll simply have to be enough for now.

*

Present Day: James

Now, making the decision of postponing the wedding? That was easy.

But announcing it to all of their guests, especially his relatives? That is going to be one hell of a difficult task.

Well, the actual announcement will be easy. The reactions and questions and everything that follows, on the other hand… not so much.

Blowing out a deep exhale, James opens the door where his parents have managed to store the guests until now. Frankly, things appear to have been going quite smoothly until he had walked in—though that may be a result of the fact that they’ve had about half an hour to cool off—and then everyone is in uproar.

It’s all ‘what is going on?’s and ‘what kind of wedding is this?’es and a large amount of Urdu and Hindi which loosely translate to the same thing, and James is feeling rather overwhelmed with it all until Fleamont steps in front of him and shouts for them to stop.

The room is immediately silent. He’s talking hear-a-pin-drop, hear-your-blood-pump kind of silent. Fleamont Potter does not shout, under any circumstances. Not unless the situation is in dire need of a loud voice. So when he does, everyone’s mouth instantly closes of their own accords and their eyes widen, including James’.

”You are all family, all of you are dear to us,” Fleamont begins slowly. “And you have been berating me and my wife for the last half an hour for something that is—if you couldn’t tell already—out of our control. But if anyone, anyone so much as raises their voices at our son for something which he shares as much fault in as we do, then you can leave and not bother seeing us again. James is to be left alone, am I understood?”

It’s odd, really, the way that his dad has a way of terrifying even people almost twice his age, especially when it comes to defending James, but he doesn’t want his dad to blacklist relatives for causing a bit of havoc. This’ll already be talked about until the end of time, James is aware.

So, he steps beside the man and speaks to everyone personally.

“I know what you’re all thinking,” he declares without much thought to how this is about to affect his family’s opinion of him forever. “‘Not only did he have the audacity to marry a girl outside of our culture, but now another girl claims ownership of him at the wedding?’ Well, let me put your minds at rest, dear relatives. Mary wasn’t objecting on my behalf, oh no. That would be my ex- boyfriend , Regulus.” There are many shocked gasps and immediate whispers rising, just as he suspected. This only angers him further, so he continues. “You all saw him, didn’t you? Rather handsome, no? Of course, you haven’t seen the rest of him like I have, but…” James hears someone practically screech with horror, not that he cares—all most of these people care about is spreading shit, so let him give them something to spread for the next decade. “So, you can all go home and gossip about the scandal that is the Potters’ only son; and don’t bother coming back for my actual wedding, no matter who I’m marrying. Thank you, and goodnight.”

He hadn’t been aware of his eyes watering, but as he storms right back out, he finds himself wiping at his eyes with the back of a hand as everything catches up with him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. He needs to stop calling Sirius the dramatic one. Holy shit, what kind of coming out was that? He quite literally just told his entire family tree that he used to have a boyfriend who he has most definitely fucked before. Oh, fucking hell, what did he do that for? It’s only going to raise more problems for his parents now, and he’s just—

James hates that his mum’s hugs have a way of comforting him even when he’s at his very worst. He has sworn on multiple occasions that they would rescue him from his deathbed and raise him from his coffin if the situation arose, and this one only further proves his point. She waits, never the one to pull away first, and so does he.

It is about another ten seconds before he breaks down sobbing onto her shoulder.

Effie is murmuring to him in a mixture of English and Urdu, but he doesn’t catch a word of anything because he’s so busy just— letting it out. Fuck, this has been building up inside him since he heard gasps from the crowd after the officiator asked for potential objections, and it is unbearable. He’s just— he’s done, and he’s confused, and he’s in pain, and he wants to go home and sit on the sofa with Sirius because he’s the only one that James has ever been sure of his feelings towards.

Remus had been his awakening, even if it had taken him a year or two to figure it out, and Frank had come next—just a harmless little crush that he hadn’t even been aware of—and he and Peter had kissed once at a party when they had both been very drunk. They had laughed about it later and agreed to never mention it again.

Marlene, well, she’s always been rather close to him since they were both very young children, like a sister, but neither of them had ever seen any friends be as close as they were for as long as they were, so the both of them had had their doubts on whether they were truly platonic. They were around eleven, and shockingly stupid, but one tiny peck of a kiss had been enough to determine that they had none of those feelings at all.

The day after that, Marlene had come out to him as lesbian.

Alright, perhaps he should have taken some offence to that, seeing as he had been some kind of reverse-awakening, but he had only felt pride for her in that moment. The scene had been repeated roughly three years later when James had come out to Marlene as pan—he had had a rather embarrassing crisis about it and vented to her, telling her how he liked who he liked, but wasn’t sure what that made him. She had spent the next ten or so minutes explaining to him about bisexual and pansexual people, and after some research, something had clicked for him.

Then came Mary. She had always been one of those people in school, the kind that almost everyone had a crush on at some point—not unlike Sirius and Remus who caused quite a scandal in seventh year when they made their relationship public—and James had found himself thinking about how he liked girls but had never liked her in that way. The next couple of days were spent trying to figure himself out, but it had led to a very sure decision that he most definitely did not fancy Mary.

But Sirius? James and Sirius have always been so close that others were the ones who thought there may be a small possibility that they were together in some way, but neither of them have ever felt anything but friendship for each other. They had kissed once, for a game of spin the bottle, when they were both thirteen, and deemed it something to never repeat; ever.

However, that hadn’t prevented Sirius going around telling people that James was an adequate kisser, at best.

So yes, James loves all of his friends, and Peter and Marlene are more siblings than friends by now, but Sirius has always been… different.

Of course, that hadn’t made the thing with Regulus any easier.

And now, James stands outside a room of almost every one of his relatives, arms wrapped around his mum as he sobs his fucking heart out, well aware that each and every one of his friends can see and hear him.

Euphemia only continues murmuring to him, gently rubbing a hand up and down his back soothingly until he quietens down and begins to hiccup. Despite however special Sirius may be to him, no one will ever be able to beat the presence of Euphemia Potter. She has a certain feature about her that has people as closed-off as Regulus opening up to her (believe him, James has seen it), and brings so much comfort with her mere presence that no one has any issues with telling her anything. The day that Marlene had come out to James? She had insisted that Effie be there too.

So yes, James pretty much won the lottery when it comes to parents, and he is more than happy to share them. They have practically adopted Sirius by now, and when things got rough with her dad after her coming out to him, Marlene spent a few days and nights at Potter Manor. Remus is always a welcome visitor, but he always says that he doesn’t want to ‘overstay his welcome’ so never longer than a week at a time, despite Sirius’ protests. They’ll move in together soon, James suspects.

Peter has always been like a second son to James’ parents in the same way that he’s been like a brother to James, so he stays over like it’s his second home.

In short, Euphemia and Fleamont are… amazing.

They prove it yet again when James pulls away from Effie, hiccuping, and they only look at him as though to tell him that he has done nothing wrong and that they’re going to take care of it all. This promptly leads to James bursting into tears again and this time throwing an arm around each of their necks as they both rub his back with a hand.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, despite knowing that they’re going to tell him not to, and that he has no reason to, because he knows that this time, all of those words are a lie. He’s fucked up royally. He literally just exploded and came out to a room of already furious, mostly-homophobic relatives.

”Stop that, James,” Fleamont tells him quietly, not pulling away yet because he hasn’t. “You have done nothing wrong, do you hear me? You—“

”They were already angry,” he interrupts, breath stuttering. “They still are. I only made it worse, I shouldn’t have— I shouldn’t have said that, I shouldn’t have—“

”What you shouldn’t have done,” Effie interjects, placing either hand on his cheeks and wiping his tears away as he finally pulls away. “Is raise your voice at people so much older than you.” She pauses for a moment, as if considering her own words. “But luckily for you, we always taught you to only respect elders who respect you, so you’ve done nothing wrong at all.”

”But I—“

”James,” Fleamont says sternly. “Listen to your mother.”

”But that—“

”James.”

”But you—“

“No.”

”But—“

”No.”

He huffs annoyedly, only regarding the two of them for a moment. Then he proceeds to almost tackle them both back into a hug, whispering, “Thank you. I love you.”

”We love you too, darling.”

”Well, I guess you’re alri—“

”Fleamont.”

James only cracks up laughing, backing away properly this time, as he bends over to place either hand on his knees to calm down.

They’re having an oddly wholesome moment, considering everything that has happened in the last hour, but that moment is torn in two as Sirius’ raised voice can be heard loudly ranting in French—a couple of English phrases inserted here and there. James spins around to find that all of his friends are in the room—as he had thought earlier—but Sirius. Regulus isn’t here either.

”Shit,” he mutters, quickly making his way towards his best friend’s voice. “Shit, shit, shit.”

*

Present Day: Mary

It had taken her about five or ten minutes to actually find Lily’s door, but now, as she stands outside of it, she finds that her previous plan of barging in to talk is much more difficult than she had thought. She can’t even complete step one: knock. This is ridiculous.

Mary had never been one for big feelings, before Lily. Sure, she’d had a boyfriend here and there, but not as many as people assumed and no relationship of hers had ever lasted longer than a couple of months. She had always assumed that when she met the right person, she’d know, so when it didn’t feel right with people, she didn’t bother to let time do it’s thing. But Lily?

Well, Mary had had a crush on Lily for an embarrassing amount of time before the night that Lily had kissed her and they had made it official. And the following few years were the best of her life. She had always assumed that she’d find a way out of her house, and that she and Lily could be truly happy together one day, but it had all come crashing down faster than she could have ever seen coming.

And now, she stands outside of Lily’s door, having objected at her wedding with another person to get her back. At least she had known it wouldn’t be easy going in.

Inhaling deeply, she raises her arm to knock just as the door swings open to reveal Lily, still in her wedding dress. Mary’s arm remains poised in the air from sheer shock.

Lily has always been rather achingly beautiful, that fact has been known to anyone with eyes since her day of birth, but even after all this time, the sight of her has a way of stopping Mary’s heart that can’t be described.

It’s silent as they stare at each other, both for very different reasons, and it feels as though nothing exists outside of Lily—the ginger waves of her hair, the bright green of her eyes, the red of her lips…

Mary is aware of how truly, genuinely besotted she sounds at the moment. But honestly, objecting at a wedding isn’t a small action; you’d require these kind of enormous feelings to merely build up the courage to do it.

”What are you doing here?” Lily almost whispers, keeping her gaze trained on Mary so Mary does the same.

She isn’t sure of which ‘here’ Lily means.

”Can I… talk to you?”

She swallows, visibly considering her answer as Mary’s heart does all sorts of odd gymnastics in her chest.

Lily doesn’t say anything, but eventually moves to the side to allow enough room for Mary through the door which she gratefully accepts.

If she’s honest, she hadn’t expected to be granted even a word with Lily, so she is essentially—and rather unfortunately—caught unprepared. Oh, she’s an idiot. Lily makes her such an idiot.

”Go on then,” Lily says quietly from the door where she is still standing, hand resting on the doorknob.

Swallowing, Mary turns back around to face her. Actors make this look a lot easier in films, apparently.

“I…” she trails off, unsure of how to continue as Lily slowly raises a sceptic eyebrow—not a good sign. “I’m sorry. For everything. I don’t mean with the objection, because as much as you might want me to, I don’t regret that or apologise for it at all. What I am sorry for is the pain I caused you, no matter how little of a choice I had in it. I’ve spent all these years telling myself that I should’ve run away, and that I should’ve done this, and that, and the truth is… I should’ve run to you. I should’ve been with you until our last breaths, I should’ve packed my things and left before he had the chance to—“ she pauses, not wanting to do this here, now. She’s said enough about that for Lily to understand, and she wants nothing more than to forget it all. If only it was that easy. “I loved you, Lily. I love you still. You can reject me, you can marry James anyway, but I had to— I had to have you know that what I did, none of it was intentional. I had to know that you wouldn’t hate me, even if— even if you couldn’t love me anymore.”

The room is oddly silent after she finishes speaking—not awkward, yet not exactly comfortable either. Mary determinedly looks anywhere but at Lily.

After an agonising minute or two longer, Lily sighs.

“I think some part of me will always love you.”

Mary’s head has never snapped up so fast in her life; she’s fairly certain that she’s cracked a few bones in her neck.

”What?” she blurts out before she can think any better of it.

Lily offers her a small smile, and somehow there’s a hint of sadness there. “That’s the thing about first loves, isn’t it? As much as you may or may not want to, you’ll never completely get over them.”

Mary’s head is spinning. She has to stumble a little to take a seat on the sofa behind her as she comprehends just what it is that Lily is trying to tell her.

”You— first love?” she repeats quietly. “I— I was your—“

“Who else?”

Oh. Oh, she is going to explode in a moment.

Mary would give practically anything she owns to kiss Lily right now, but she’s aware that this is likely the worst possible time for it, so she looks down at her lap and fiddles with her skirt instead; Regulus had insisted that they must blend in, so here she is in a blouse and skirt. How no one noticed them, she’ll never understand.

“Do you love him?” she asks, unaware that she had been about to speak before her mouth had formed the words. Her eyes immediately widen at her own abrupt question and she internally curses her stupidity.

”James?” Lily says, as if it’s not obvious. Mary doesn’t confirm nor deny. “I think I did, or at least I tried to. Maybe I only convinced myself so that I could forget about you, but… now that you’re here, and we have a second chance, and I have to make a choice, I— I don’t know anything. I don’t know how we’re supposed to go on from this.”

Mary is much more aware when she speaks this time. “And— and do you— do you…” she can’t form the words, but Lily seems to understand.

”Like I said,” she replies with that same, sad smile of hers. “I think some part of me will always love you, Mary MacDonald.”

She has a chance. After everything that’s happened, between them and today, Mary stands a chance.

Despite everything, she feels a smile coming on.

*

Present Day: Regulus

(All translations are in bold underneath their French).

Regulus has always known of his brother’s idiotic tendencies, but perhaps it is because of all the years which they have spent apart, or maybe he inherited some of the same genes, but he had apparently forgotten just how stupid Sirius Black can be when he tries.

This reminder swiftly hits him like an unexpected slap when said older brother drags Regulus into a separate room and begins berating him in two languages. It’s hard enough keeping up with Sirius’ usual stream of stupid as it is, but when his French blends into his English with no trouble whatsoever—and vice versa—well, it doesn’t exactly help.

”…I heard what you said, mais tu ne pensais sûrement pas que je te croirais, just like that?” Sirius is rambling when Regulus bothers to return his attention to him. 

“…I heard what you said, but surely you didn’t think I would believe you, just like that?”…

Regulus rolls his eyes; hard. He’s going to see into his own brain, at this rate.

“Je ne sais pas ce que tu veux que je te dise,” he replies tiredly; honestly, he couldn’t care less about what his brother believes—he came here to convince James and no one else. If Sirius, coming from the same household, isn’t willing to believe him, then Regulus isn’t willing to spend all day in a pointless attempt to convince him. “You know them, Sirius. I’ve explained everything. It’s not my fault , nor my problem that you don’t want to believe me!”

”I don’t know what you want me to tell you,”…

He moves to walk right back out the door but Sirius brings him up short, slamming the door shut with a furious look on his face as Regulus absentmindedly winces.

”What’s that supposed to mean?” he demands angrily, apparently not quite finished with this yet.

Regulus would give anything to be.

“Oh, you don’t have to pretend for my sake,” he quips back, growing equally frustrated with this topic now. “You got rid of me and then I showed back up again, well don’t worry, I’m not here for you. Though I guess you’d know a thing or two about only having eyes for—“

”What the fuck is going on here!?”

Ah. James. There he is. And apparently he is not pleased.

Oh, for fuck’s sake, Regulus, now is not the time—

“I said, what the fuck is going on here?” James repeats, Regulus refusing to look at him for a mere second because he’s aware what happens when he does. And he’s not about to allow twenty-year-old him to have the same walls-crumbling, defenceless demeanour with James that fifteen-year-old him used to.

”Why don’t you ask my brother?” he says bitterly. “He knows everything about everyone, apparently.”

Sirius exhales through his nose sharply before gritting his teeth and muttering, “That’s not what I said.”

”Oh, really? Because that’s how you make it—“

”Well, maybe if you realised that you’re not the only person with problems—“

”Maybe if you cared about someone other than yourself for once—“

”Why do you always pin it on—“

”Enough!” James shouts. “I never thought I’d be grateful to be an only child! You two have some serious shit to sort out, and you’re going to do it another time. For now, you—“ he points to Regulus who finally raises his gaze from the floor. “—are coming with me.”

”And just why do you think you suddenly get to tell me what to do?”

James smirks, a simple action that has Regulus’ already jogging heartbeat suddenly sprinting.

”You’ve already objected at my wedding, love,” he states calmly, maintaining eye contact with Regulus all the while. “I’m afraid we’re way past niceties now. So, are you going to follow me, or am I going to have to use other means?”

Regulus swallows, setting his jaw as he stares stubbornly; James only stares back—eyebrow raised. Neither of them are willing to break first—Regulus knows it, James knows it, and it seems that Sirius knows it too, for he huffs impatiently and stomps out of the room, murmuring, “This is fucking ridiculous,” as he goes.

The second he is out, James closes the door.

If he’s honest, Regulus hadn’t anticipated this happening, at least not this early, so he’s rather unprepared at the moment. Then again, James had been the one to demand a conversation, so he doesn’t have to be the one to talk for now.

The door shutting closed is like a sudden reminder in his brain: don’t look at him. So he doesn’t. He glances at the chairs, the walls, and his personal favourite, the floor. In his peripheral vision, he can see James shamelessly watching him the entire time. His gaze doesn’t even waver.

What is Regulus to do with that? Sure, he made the plan, and he’s here now, but he’s never been exactly an expert on the whole talk-and-make-up thing. In fact, he’s never been very good at just talking in general.

So how is he supposed to go on now? He hasn’t got the foggiest clue what’s going on in James’ head, which would be quite helpful, actually. What is he on about?

James’ voice is much softer and quieter than before when he asks, “What are you doing here, Reg?”

Reg, his brain immediately feels the need to point out. He said ‘Reg.’

Huffing internally, he requests kindly that his brain shuts up before replying.

”I’m here to take back what’s mine.”

James’ eyebrows shoot even higher up his forehead at the final word, rightfully, of course. Boy, Regulus is uncharacteristically brave today.

”Yours?” he repeats, as though he isn’t sure of whether he had heard correctly. “Is that what I am? After all these years, after you broke my heart, after—“

”I had no choice, James! It was either break your heart, or watch as they killed you in front of me! Would you honestly have preferred to be with me a little longer only to die a tragically early death? They would have made you look into my eyes before they did it, I know how these things work. They would have made sure that the last things you ever saw were the eyes of the person responsible for your death. Because that’s the kind of people they were.”

James makes a noise midway between a sigh and a scoff, looking at him like a puzzle he can’t quite solve. Regulus knows the feeling.

“You— Regulus, you literally said it yourself and you still can’t see it,” he points out exasperatedly, not that this helps Regulus understands what he’s on about. “You were fifteen, Reg, a child. You can’t blame yourself for the choices they forced you to make. I— obviously I’m not exactly happy about everything that happened, but I can’t—and don’t—blame you for any of it. I just—you have to know that it’s not that easy. Regulus, I thought you were dead this entire time. Sirius and I—we spent so long worrying about you, and crying after we came to the conclusion that you weren’t coming back, even though I knew I had no right to. So when you just—pop out of nowhere, it—I—“

“James. You’re allowed to need time, that—Christ, that’s normal,” Regulus tells him, hating that he has to be the one to do so. “Stop apologising for being human.”

”I wasn’t—“

”We both know what you were doing.”

Beat.

They only stand there for a little while, unsure of what to say—or do—after so many years of being apart. Sure, they’re essentially the same people, but Regulus is not about to convince himself that some things aren’t…different. The James he used to know never had to mourn him, for one thing.

Eventually, James sighs.

“How do you always know?” he asks, watching Regulus with a curious expression that he can’t understand for the life of him.

”Know what?”

“The right thing to say,” he explains, a tiny smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “You were the only one who ever pinpointed my… issues, and you always knew what to say when you did.”

”I guess when you have so many issues of your own, you learn how to treat them,” Regulus returns, shrugging as if it’s of low importance to him.

James sighs again. “They really fucked the two of you up, didn’t they?”

”In more ways than one,” he replies before he can think any better of it, wincing when he does.

When he only receives a look of pity, Regulus scoffs and rolls his eyes as he pushes away from the wall he had been leaning against. He makes it to the door, hand hovering over the doorknob before he turns back to face James one last time.

“You—you said that when you cried, Sirius cried with you,” he says, swallowing when James slowly nods in confusion. “Did he really?”

Understanding seems to hit James like a slap to the face; his expression immediately softens. “Reg, you’re his brother. Of course he did.”

Regulus finds himself looking away and stepping out of the door before he can say anymore, but with only one foot out, James calls out to him.

”Regulus?” he calls, and Regulus turns his head back around to look at him. “You might not want to be seen by my relatives.”

He sighs. “Why do I feel as though there’s a reason apart from me objecting at your wedding?”

James gives him an apologetic look, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he admits, “I may or may not have… shouted at them a bit.”

”James. What did you do?”

”I’d really rather not say.”

”James.”

”Regulus.”

Regulus releases an exhale that sounds rather like a laugh. “Five years, and you’re still the same, stubborn sixteen-year-old I used to love.”

”Used to?” James repeats with an indecipherable expression.

Regulus offers him a small, sad smile. “You know what I mean.”

Chapter Text

Present Day: James

As a rather spoilt child, James has always despised being told off purely because he had experienced it so little throughout his childhood. Serious talks included. So when his dad asks to see him and Lily in a separate room in Potter Manor, he immediately feels something rise in his throat.

They’re both well aware of what this is about; it’s only the morning after their would-be wedding so no one is bound to forget anything just yet. The slightly more awkward side of things is that Marlene and Sirius had refused to let Mary and Regulus go anywhere—in their words, they ‘can’t risk them running off again’—and insisted that they stay at Potter Manor with the rest of them: James, Lily, James’ parents, Dorcas, Marlene, and Sirius. Peter is only a few houses down the road, and Remus had to go home to alert his parents of the reason behind his rather late return.

Usually, the house isn’t anywhere near as crowded, seeing as the only permanent residents are James, Sirius, and James’ parents, while the former two search for somewhere to move in with their respective partners. But James suddenly finds himself even more grateful for every one of their guests than he normally would be, for it gives him many more opportunities to avoid whoever it is he wants to. It’s usually Regulus.

Yes, they had a talk after the almost-wedding and objections, but there is still so much remaining to unpack. And, as mentioned before, James despises serious talks with people. So, he’s taking a page out of Sirius’ book and ignoring his problems until they catch up to him. Unfortunately for the problems, James is quite a fast runner.

Swallowing, he closes the door and takes a seat opposite his dad, beside Lily, in Fleamont’s office. He used to love it in here as a child. Fleamont has always been one for inventions and tinkering—it’s actually how he came up with the country’s most famous hair potion, Sleakazy’s—and when he was younger, James had a habit of wandering into this very room when bored to find out what his dad was up to. Once, he accidentally tipped something over into the wrong pot and, being his dad’s guinea pig every now and again—in the morning, James awoke to find that his hair had taken on the exact blueish colour of the liquid in the pot. To say the least, Effie had not been pleased when her son—who’s hair had been just as unruly back then, if not worse—went around with blue hair for a week before it somehow disappeared or faded away. He still isn’t quite sure, to this day.

So yes, James has many happy childhood memories in this room. And now he sits in it, a twenty-one-year-old, nervously picking at the skin beside his nails while his dad sits across from him and his almost-wife beside him. He keeps gulping and tapping his leg on the floor repeatedly, even though he hasn’t done anything wrong and Fleamont had said as much to their relatives only yesterday.

Alright, he probably has a couple of deeper issues, but now is not the time for that.

A sudden, quiet chuckle from his dad draws his attention—and apparently Lily’s—while the older man only continues watching them with amusement.

“It’s like I’m a teacher calling my students to my room after school,” he states, leaving James and Lily to figure out what is so amusing. Slowly, the laughter ebbs away, and all that is left is a serious expression which reads ‘we do need to talk, however.’ “I’m not here to tell either of you off. James, we always raised you rather… spoilt, and Lily, I don’t raise my voice to any child, especially not those I did not help create or raise. You can both take a deep breath.”

For some unfathomable reason, James finds himself doing just that—Fleamont laughs again—merely because he is so relieved. He witnessed what an explosion on his dad’s behalf looks like yesterday, and he can safely say that he would not like to ever see that again.

”I make jokes,” he continues, gaze flickering between the two of them. “But really, you two are quite smart in your own rights, and I trust you to make the right decisions from here. Even if… you choose to be apart.”

James and Lily share an uneasy look at that, both of them well aware of each other’s feelings at the moment.

”However,” he begins again, diverting their attention back to him. “No matter what happens, I expect you—“ he points to Lily. “—at every celebration and holiday we have. You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Lily Evans.”

She smiles softly and tilts her head downwards, murmuring, “Of course,” when she is able to face him with a straight face again.

”Well, that’s all I had to say, really,” Fleamont admits sheepishly, earning two more smiles from the both of them. “Unless, either of you have anything…?”

James racks his brain for anything, but finds it empty. Well, not exactly empty, there are always eight different songs playing on repeat, and an advert or two he has recently watched, but nothing out of the ordinary.

”Monty?” Lily starts gently when James doesn’t. It had taken the better part of a week for him to convince her to call him that; before, it had always been ‘Mr Potter,’ and even ‘sir’ once. “In our position, what would you do?”

Fleamont offers her a small, comforting smile as he replies, “I’d be with who I love. And hope that the other person doesn’t leave my life completely. I understand that you’re all rather dear to each other.”

The thing is, it isn’t even James and Lily, nor their respective objectors that that statement resonates with most. James and Mary had been introduced through Marlene, but they had both had the common interest of playing rugby which James enjoyed rather fanatically, so they had become inseparable quite quickly. They were constantly at practises and matches together. Even after everything that had happened, he finds that he really has missed her.

As for Lily and Regulus, they had been introduced through Remus, funnily enough, who had been a mutual friend and promptly ignored from then on. He doesn’t mean that literally. For the most part. It’s just that Lily and Regulus were constantly in a corner nattering about a book or something or other, and they rather enjoyed making fun of James whenever together which meant that James had to hear sarcastic insults for most of his school days. After James and Regulus had begun dating behind everyone’s backs, Regulus had continued his taunting with Lily, only from then on there was always a secret twinkle in his eyes. James had been the only one who could notice it.

In conclusion, they had all been quite intertwined with each other back then, and still would be if it weren’t for the circumstances, James knows it. And now that he has the chance to live those days again, he doesn’t want to lose it. But he’s with Lily now, and she’s just absolutely brilliant. Is she Regulus? No, they’re both different in their own ways, of course, but it works the other way around too. Regulus isn’t Lily, and Lily isn’t Regulus, and James doesn’t know who he wants in a platonic manner and who in a romantic. This is not an ideal time for the indecisiveness to kick in.

”James?” That’s Lily.

His head snaps up as he wakes from his daydream to find that Fleamont has left the room and Lily is watching him, likely has been for the last… five, ten minutes?

”Are you okay?” she asks quietly, but they both know the answer to that.

He blows out an exhale. “I have no idea. I guess I have to be, for now, don’t I?”

”What do you mean?”

”Well, everything’s already a mess, I don’t want to go making it even worse with my—“

”James, are you serious? Don’t make the joke, or I will object at your next wedding even if it’s to me,” she adds quickly as she appears to realise what she has just said. “Your ex—who you thought was dead for four or so years—shows up out of nowhere to object at your wedding because he wants you back. If anyone has the right to freak out, it’s you. Scream, cry, shout, do whatever you feel the need to do. You can shout at me, if that’ll help.”

”I don’t want to shout at you,” he murmurs confusedly. Before she can open her mouth, he continues. “And what about you? You’re going through the exact same thing. If anyone has the right to freak out, it’s us. Though I think we’ve both got best friends who do that job for us better than we ever could.”

She chuckles lightly, hand rising to cover her mouth as she does so.

As Lily’s laughter fades, the room is oddly silent and James finds himself begging for someone to come barging in, even if it’s Mary coming to suddenly pull Lily into a big snog for… some reason he can’t come up with at the moment. The thought makes him smile inwardly, Lily and Mary, happy together and—

Oh.

Oh.

James has always been the jealous type—there are many examples of this which he’d rather not mention right now—so when he finds himself thinking about his fiancé (?) happy with another woman without feeling that familiar prickle of heat down his spine, he realises just what that means.

Well, fuck.

His expression must show something to be concerned about, for Lily is leaning forward to look at him worriedly and calling his name, slowly waving her hand in front of his face when he doesn’t reply. James starts, turning to her with wide eyes.

”James?” she repeats, eyebrows threaded with concern. “Are you alright? Should I get some water?”

”I—“ he croaks, voice cutting him off before he can think to do it himself. He doesn’t elaborate.

”James?”

“I have to go.”

Breath stuttering, he stumbles out of the room before she can protest, running a hand through his wild hair as he rushes in the direction of his room. He needs to be alone right now. Because— because—

“James?” Sirius says confusedly when he spots him taking deep breaths on the way to his bedroom. “What’s— are you okay?”

He nods frantically before making it to his door and almost falling in, shutting it closed behind himself. Slowly, he sinks to the floor, resting his back against the door all the while.

Oh God, he finds himself thinking, eyes squeezed shut. I still fancy Regulus Black.

*

Present Day: Lily

James is acting strange; stranger than normal, which is plenty strange on it’s own. Lily isn’t sure of what happened, one minute they had been talking, the next he had zoned out and—with an expression like a spooked deer—suddenly dashed away. It seems, from Sirius’ retelling of the last five minutes, that he’s locked himself in his room. Odd.

But she has so much to think about herself that the topic of James acting weirdly gets pushed and shoved backwards in her brain by other, persistent thoughts. Thoughts that she would rather ignore for the time being.

Potter Manor, while rather large, is hardly ever this full, so whenever Lily happens to walk into a room, usually someone has beat her to it. So far, it’s only been Mary once, and Lily had been so quiet that she had managed to take one step past the door before noticing her and quickly backing away. She isn’t sure whether Mary had seen her or not, but she thinks—fine, hopes—for the latter.

That being said, Mary isn’t… seeking her out or anything. In fact, ever since their little talk in Lily’s room at the wedding, she’s been giving Lily her space. The thing is, Lily isn’t sure if she wants this much space.

She’s still in the process of figuring out her feelings for, well, everyone, at the minute, and while things between her and James are still quite normal, she isn’t sure if they will be in the future. What happens if they do decide to be apart? Won’t it be awkward, seeing as they had almost gotten married before… certain obstacles? And what if they choose to be together? What happens to Mary and Regulus? Will they leave? Will they ever be seen again? Will James and Lily’s friendship be enough for them? Will—

“Hey,” Regulus says quietly, joining her on the windowsill of the attic window which she is perched on. After being rather overwhelmed with everything, she had sought out the one place that no one ever goes, mainly because most of her friends would never dream of climbing the stairs into the dark, dusty attic. It’s peaceful up here, she finds.

”Hey,” she returns, arms wrapped around her knees as she rests her chin on them to look at him.

”I come up here sometimes too,” he admits, mirroring her position as he gazes out of the window beside them. “Usually at night. The view of the stars isn’t exactly Hogwarts’ astronomy tower, but it’s better than most. I’m not visible this time of year, but Sirius is, the arrogant prick, not that that’s surprising. There’s also—“

”Regulus,” she interrupts gently, because she knows what he’s doing, and she is well aware that it is no accident.

”Yes?” he says after a beat.

Lily opens her mouth, then closes it again, having made no sound whatsoever. It occurs to her that accepting a friend trying to help her—even if their relationship has grown rather complicated as of late— isn’t the big, difficult act it seems at first thought. When Regulus only continues watching her curiously, she prompts, “Keep talking.”

Regulus does, barely waiting another beat to continue telling her all about the stars, and constellations, and how his cousin, Andromeda, is actually named after a whole galaxy. He explains the story of Hercules and the lion—which Regulus’ star just so happens to be the heart of—of Pyramus and Thisbe, who have a rather Romeo-and-Juliet type of ending. He talks until Effie’s voice can be heard gathering everyone for dinner, and Lily hangs off of every word, grateful for his mere presence. She finds that she really has missed him, even though that fact has probably been hiding in the back of her mind somewhere. If her brain was a wardrobe, most of her thoughts would have found Narnia by now, she’s certain.

Effie’s voice grows closer, but no footsteps are heard coming up the stairs; she must be assuming that no one would bother coming up here. It’s apparent that Lily and Regulus are the last ones left, or at least until there comes a knock on a door downstairs and a call of ‘James?’ A muffled response. Strange.

”Regulus,” her voice drifts up the stairs. “I know you’re up there. If Lily’s up there with you, call her down too, will you?”

Regulus’ steady stream of words pauses long enough for the both of them to hear her request and for him to reply, “She’s up here too, Mrs— Effie. We’ll be right down.”

That must be enough for her, because the sound of retreating footsteps is audible after that. Lily slowly gets to her feet and stretches, but Regulus doesn’t move.

”I only said that so she wouldn’t bother coming up here,” he tells her, turning towards her to dangle his legs off the edge of the windowsill. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. Or I can go and make up an ex—”

Surging forward, Lily finds herself hugging him, almost awkwardly bending over to wrap her arms around his neck. Regulus tenses at first, but immediately returns the gesture once he appears to realise what is happening, albeit a little confusedly.

They remain like that for a minute which ticks into two until she slowly pulls away.

“Sorry,” she blurts sheepishly, but he shakes his head in a non-verbal ‘don’t.’ “And thank you, for… this. For distracting me.”

He smiles softly, tipping his head downwards which causes his curls to cascade all over the place before he tilts his head back up to look at her.

”I thought you deserved a break. And an apology, seeing as I’m half the reason you need a break in the first place.”

She huffs a quiet laugh before turning back to him.

”Apology accepted,” she declares, to which Regulus raises his eyebrows slightly but doesn’t question. “Now come on, I’ve missed Effie’s cooking.”

Regulus screws his face up in confusion, looking at her like she’s demented.

”Don’t you… like practically live here?” he asks, perplexed, which makes her laugh again but a little louder this time.

”You didn’t let me finish. I’ve missed her cooking since yesterday,” she continues as they begin their way down the stairs.

”I would too, to be honest. In fact, I have,” he admits a little sadly.

Lily isn’t sure of what to do with that. She doesn’t know how that must feel, all that he’s going through and has gone through in the past, but Regulus had done a rather brilliant job of cheering her up, so it’s only fair that she returns the favour, isn’t it?

“Regulus,” she starts, only to have him face her with a knowing look.

He smiles again. “I know.”

They join everyone else at the table with the exception of James and Mary, which is rather unusual. It explains the short conversation heard between Effie and—presumably—James, but Mary? What is that about?

She meets Regulus’ gaze from where he is sitting opposite her, and she immediately understands that they’re both thinking the same thing; something isn’t right.

Effie and Monty do their best to make conversation and the others speak when spoken to, but it’s clear that everyone is wondering why the other two aren’t present, and what they could possibly be doing if together. But then again, Lily and Regulus have practically returned to their old friendship without a single hiccup, despite everything, so why shouldn’t James and Mary be able to do the same? They had been quite close, after all—the rugby buddies.

That’s when Lily gets to thinking about how she had instantly made room for Regulus when he had made his presence clear in the attic, and how she hadn’t felt a single bit of resentment toward him even though he had literally objected at her wedding only yesterday. But that would make her a bit of a hypocrite, seeing as she’s finding it rather impossible to hate Mary at the moment, and Regulus and Mary are both in the exact same position right now.

It doesn’t hit her until a few minutes later that her being mostly unbothered by not one, but two objections at her wedding likely means that her heart hadn’t been completely in it in the first place. But that means…

Oh.

Oh.

Abruptly sliding her chair back, Lily stands and dashes out of the room, muttering a quick ‘excuse me’ meanwhile. Everyone’s heads snap up to watch her, but any and all objections must die on their tongues, for she doesn’t hear any as she sprints up the stairs and locks herself into the bathroom.

Slowly turning to the mirror, she shares eye contact with her ruffled reflection while attempting to even out her breathing once more.

Oh God, she finds herself thinking as her eyes squeeze shut. I still fancy Mary MacDonald.

*

Present Day: Mary

Mary doesn’t know what to do with this. She’s never had to see James like this. James is always cheerful, always there for people, but he’s never been one to express… sad emotions. Alright, perhaps that’s a bit of an issue, but for now, what is she supposed to do?

Everyone finds comfort in different things, and Mary has found herself offering Remus chocolate when he seemed particularly down, or leaving new crystals around for Dorcas to find when she had been quarrelling with Pandora, or asking Peter to help her practise her chess skills when James had muttered something to her about his parents being ‘classic them’ again. Or at least, she used to.

But James? James has always assisted her in those things and been there for her on her rough days, but never, not even once, has Mary seen a panicked or upset James Potter. But now…

Now, James sits in front of his bedroom door, leaning against it with his forehead resting on his knees while Mary is seated opposite him on the floor trying to figure out what to do in this situation.

A broken James Potter means a broken everything. After all, what happens to the world if the sun never rises again? No one knows, and no one wants to know; this, right here, is exactly like that.

What does James find comfort in? Mary finds herself asking. She doesn’t know, she doesn’t know any of her friends anymore, it’s been so long since—

Oh.

Oh.

Of course. She— oh, she’s so stupid, she could have avoided the last ten minutes of awkwardness.

Suddenly, she stands which immediately draws James’ attention, his head snapping upwards to look at her curiously. She kneels in front of him while he watches, and holds out a hand.

”Come on,” she prompts while he only stares in confusion.

”Mary, what—“

”Follow me and you’ll find out.”

James opens and closes his mouth soundlessly, almost like a fish, before huffing stubbornly and taking her hand to pull himself to his feet. He’s probably got pins and needles from the hips down; that’s what sitting on a hard floor for so long mid-crisis will earn you. Well, he’s going to need his legs for this, so he better be able to run.

Mary opens the door and makes her way down the stairs and into the garden, cheerily replying, “Taking your son down Memory Lane!” when Effie asks what it is they’re doing. This likely doesn’t do much to help James figure out what it is they’re doing.

Once they are outside, she orders for him to stand at a designated patch of grass—she spontaneously points to a random area—while she makes her way to the shed. There, she finds exactly what she had been looking for.

”Mare, can you pl—“ James is cut off by the rugby ball flying at him which he automatically reaches out to catch. For a moment, he only stares at the ball, as if wondering what on Earth to do with it, when he tilts his head back up to face her.

”Go on then, Potter!” she demands, running toward him. “Give me your best shot!”

Almost reflexively, James takes off running in the other direction, yelling, “You’re on, MacDonald!” as he does so. Mary grins while she chases him.

They are out there for roughly ten or so minutes, running around like lunatics, when Marlene, Dorcas, and Sirius happen outside to see what they’re up to. It takes about two seconds for Marlene and Sirius to join the fray, shouting and yelping along with them. Dorcas remains on the sidelines, chuckling at them.

Mary is running with the ball in her grip when Marlene—her supposed teammate—tackles her to the ground, the both of them hitting the grass with a thud each. She’s about to protest, to question what she’s doing, when Marlene gets to her feet and offers her hand, panting and grinning.

There’s a double meaning in the action, they both know it, so Mary takes her outstretched hand gratefully, dusting herself off when she is back on her feet.

“If you ever, ever hurt her again, I will hurt you in ways you can’t imagine,” she promises, even though they’re both smiling.

“Believe me,” Mary begins honestly. “If I ever hurt her again, it’ll be because I’m dead.”

That appears to be enough for the other woman, especially as James and Sirius catch up to them and head right for them. Marlene grabs the ball from where it is lying on the floor and dashes off, Mary immediately following as she matches her speed.

In the end, they lose track of the score and settle for a tie.

Afterwards, James finds her in her bedroom—there are seven guest rooms in the house, seven —and joins her on the bed, sitting cross-legged with a small smile on his face.

”Thank you for today,” he says sincerely. “I haven’t played rugby in a little while. Especially with you. That was really… thank you.”

She returns his smile, glad that her idea worked. “Well, no matter what happens from here, we’ll have to organise a weekly rugby match. Me, Marlene, and Dorcas, against you, Sirius, and Regulus. I doubt Lily and Remus will much fancy being tackled to the floor, and I don’t remember Peter ever being into it. Sound good?”

James’ grin only widens. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds really good. I’ve missed you, Mare.”

“I missed you too,” she admits, because, well, it’s true.

Beat.

”Mary?”

”Yeah?”

”You really love her?”

”Yeah. I really do.” She nearly winces, remembering what she and Regulus had done a mere day ago. “Sorry about… yesterday, by the way.”

James is staring off into space again; she doubts that he is listening to a word she is saying at the moment. ”I think I know where we’re going to go from here.”

”You do?”

”Mm. It’s all up to Lily’s feelings now.”

What does that even mean? Does she have a chance? What is James implying?

”James?”

”Yeah?”

”Do you love one of them?”

”I love both of them, Mare. Just in different ways. Think I always have.”

She nods, understanding hitting her.

She really has missed him.

But it’s impossible for a human to not miss the sun if it were to disappear one day.

Chapter Text

Present Day: Regulus

Regulus is lying in bed, unable to sleep as usual, when it happens. Just like James, it’s completely unexpected, unprecedented, and has a way of confusing Regulus that leaves him almost dazed for the following few minutes. What is this ‘it,’ you ask? Allow him to explain:

Spread out like a starfish, Regulus is wide awake despite the time, when there is a soft knock on his door. Immediately, he sits up, tensing. He knows that knock; he has that knock memorised. But it’s late, past midnight, and everyone else is likely asleep, like they should be. So why—

The knock sounds again, no more persistent than the first—not insisting—only waiting, asking. Distinctly, Regulus remembers an evening at school, one of meeting. Can I? Five years later, and hardly anything has changed. It’s funny, that.

Slowly, quietly, he slides out of bed and makes his way over to the door, a floorboard creaking here and there and making him wince from memory. When he reaches the door, he pauses, hand hovering over the doorknob as he contemplates opening it. It’s inevitable, really, mainly because Regulus is a weak, weak man, but he hasn’t got much space left inside for even more self-hate, so he pushes that to one side for the time being.

Carefully, he turns the doorknob and opens it just about enough for either one of them to get through, and there he is. They both stand there in silence for a moment, staring at each other. If someone were to walk past for a cup of water or to go to the bathroom…

”Hi,” James breathes eventually, still looking at him for some reason. “I— did I wake you?”

Regulus’ lips curl. “I might’ve changed after all these years, but unfortunately my sleeping habits haven’t.”

When James only looks confused, he clarifies, “You’re fine, James. I was more awake than I’ve ever been. Did you want something?”

Apparently James’ inability to state what he wants is present as ever, for he swallows and rubs a hand at the nape of his neck which he does when he’s nervous. What reason he has to be nervous, Regulus hasn’t the foggiest clue.

”Can I—“ he pauses to clear his throat. “Can I talk to you?”

”It’s your house, James,” he feels the need to remind him.

”That doesn’t mean I can do whatever with whoever I want,” James points out. “And technically, it’s my parents’ house, not mine. So, I’m asking, Regulus, can I talk to you, or would you rather I leave you alone?”

It seems that while people have a way of maturing and growing, their true selves never change. Take James, for example; he’s just as noble and kind-hearted as ever. Regulus suspects he always will be.

This seems rather important, so Regulus steps to the side, James taking the opportunity without any prompts because of course he knows by now. Once Regulus has the door quietly shut closed, they stand there a little awkwardly, unsure of what to do around each other anymore. Life’s funny like that, sometimes.

At the same time that James begins, “Can I—“ Regulus says, “Do you want to—“ the both of them gesturing towards the chair in front of the table—this encounter is awkward enough without getting the bed involved.

Almost gratefully, James smiles and takes a seat, Regulus doing the same opposite him on the bed. The silence stretches, thick and long, between them while Regulus fights the urge to ask him what it is he came here for. Time, he reminds himself. Give him some time.

”So,” James starts eventually. “I… don’t really know where to start, if I’m honest. Bit unprepared of me, teenage James would be disappointed.”

Regulus huffs out a small laugh, but he’s well aware of what James is doing. He’s always been rather shit at confrontation, and redirecting people into more comfortable conversations has become something of a talent of his. Usually, Regulus wouldn’t let it slide, but as promised, he’s going to give James his time. Perhaps he’ll get there on his own.

“Anyway, I er— haven’t talked to Lily about this yet; haven’t really had the chance,” he goes on to explain while Regulus is sat there in agonising silence wondering what on Earth this could be about. “So, you know, please don’t tell her. I’m not hiding it from her or anything,” he adds quickly, like a child being caught doing something wrong. “I just… want to figure out the complexities of all this before I talk to her. Which is why I’m here.”

He adjusts his position on the chair to better face Regulus who tucks his legs up underneath himself.

Is he about to say what he thinks he’s about to say?

”It’s been a while since… us,” he points out, tipping his head to look at his lap as he usually does. “And I do believe everything you’ve told me, I do—though I maybe shouldn’t—but there are so many things to go through, and even then, only time will be able to help us—all of us—go back to normal. I think I have a good idea of what I want my ‘normal’ to be, and that’s a start. But I— I don’t know where to go from here. When I talk to her, what if she doesn’t agree? What if I ruin it all? As much as certain… feelings of mine have come to light, I don’t want to lose her. I love her.”

Oh.

Well.

Those words are like a punch to the gut, honestly. Regulus knows that he should have expected this, that there was a high likelihood of this all along, but hope is a dangerous thing that consumes even the people who have learnt time and time again that having expectations only leads to disappointment.

“I love her,” James continues, unaware of what he’s doing to Regulus at the moment. “Just like I’ve always loved Marlene. And Sirius. And Remus, and Peter, and Dorcas, and Mary, but—“

Pause.

Wait a minute…

Regulus’ heart has gone from sinking to soaring within the span of ten seconds, yet that doesn’t stop him from gently prompting, “But?”

It feels like an eternity has passed by the time that James manages to lift his head to look Regulus directly in the eyes, offering him a small smile. His breath catches in his chest, because he knows that look, and he knows what it means, and he—

“But not the way I loved you.”

Regulus is fairly certain he’s having some kind of minor heart episode, but James is like a man on a mission, not stopping once he’s started. He’s going to kill him, at this rate.

“I’ve read quite a few books that made it clear to me, but then the realisation that hit me this morning was like a big, flashing confirmation. No matter how much time passes, in every single universe, we’re inevitable, you and me.”

Regulus is dangerously close to exploding right now, what with this sudden confession at—one? Two?—some ungodly hour in the middle of the night. What he wouldn’t give to be able to simply reach out and—

“Regulus, can you be honest with me? I know that you might be a little biased, but I need an honest opinion.”

Unable to speak without likely humiliating himself, he nods in response.

”Am I a horrible person?”

“Of course not,” he reassures immediately, like a reflex. “Why would you say that?”

”Well, I— I was about to marry her; we said our vows and everything. But then you come along and I just— immediately started questioning my decision. I was about to make a lifelong commitment to her, and one look at you was enough to have me freaking out for the next— well, so far it’s two days and counting. Am I a horrible person for… not figuring out my feelings first? I could really hurt her, and that’s the last thing I want to do, but hiding it isn’t going to be any better, so—“

”James,” Regulus interrupts suddenly. “Listen to me. You are not a horrible person for mistaking platonic feelings for romantic. You are not a horrible person for postponing your wedding because of the reappearance of two people who you both thought dead for how many years. You are not a horrible person, even if you do hurt her with this, because none of it is intentional. You said it yourself, that the last thing you want to do is hurt her. Would a horrible person sincerely mean that in the way you do?”

It looks as though James is opening his mouth to argue, but he only closes it again as if deciding against it. That’s the smart decision; Regulus is not about to allow him to place blame on himself for being confused about his feelings. That’s absolutely ridiculous.

”Thank you.”

”I haven’t done anything.”

”You’ve done more than you know.”

Regulus is about to protest when James gets to his feet and moves towards the door, apparently finished with their talk now. So he’s just dropped a bombshell and is now leaving, what is Regulus to do with that?

Just like Regulus had done prior to James entering, James’ hand hovers over the doorknob as though unsure of whether to open it or not. Slowly, he turns back in a way that makes it feel like the last.

”Goodnight, Reg,” he says softly, unaware of the alarms that sound in Regulus’ head at the nickname. Good alarms. Positive alarms. Ugh, you get what he means.

”Goodnight,” he barely manages to return before James is letting himself out, a tiny smile hidden in the corners of his mouth as he goes.

As soon as the door clicks shut, Regulus throws himself backwards onto his bed in a similar position as he had been in before. He hates the way a smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, like there are invisible fingers poking at him. James used to do that.

Oh, he’s a fool. That only makes his grin widen, and it is safe to say that the premise of sleeping does not become any easier after the encounter, for while James might’ve left the room, he’s always been a permanent renter of Regulus’ mind. And it doesn’t seem like he’s going to be evicted any time soon.

*

Present Day: Mary

Mary is lying in bed, unable to sleep as usual, when it happens. Just like Lily, it’s confusing, wild, and has a way of making Mary question everything to ever happen like nothing else does. What is this ‘it,’ you ask? Allow her to explain:

Having tossed and turned sufficiently to determine that she is not getting any sleep tonight, she turns on the lamp on her bedside table and picks up the book beside it—an old favourite. However, she only manages to crack it open and lay eyes on the first page to hear a soft knock sound at the door. Immediately, her back straightens while her entire body tenses. She knows that knock. She has that knock memorised. But it’s late, past midnight, and everyone else is likely asleep, like they should be. So why—

The knock sounds again, no more persistent than the first—not insisting—only waiting, asking. Distinctly, Mary remembers an evening outside at school, on the rugby grounds. Can I? Five years later, and hardly anything has changed. It’s funny, that.

Slowly, she slips out of bed, tiptoeing across the floor towards the door and wincing slightly when the floorboards creak. Once she gets to it, her hand hovers over the doorknob, unsure. It’s inevitable, really, mainly because Mary is a weak, weak woman but she hasn’t got much space left inside for even more self-hate, so she pushes that to one side for the time being.

Carefully, she turns the doorknob and opens it to find Lily standing there, and she thinks she recognises the hitch in the other woman’s breath as the door allows them to get a glimpse of each other. It’s the very same hitch that Mary used to experience and still experiences every time she gets a look at Lily.

Don’t hope for this, she reminds herself. Don’t you dare.

”Hi,” she breathes, still staring at Mary who wishes she knew the reason for her reverent gaze. “I— did I wake you?”

“No,” she reassures quickly. “I just— I was just reading. Is everything okay?”

Lily’s expression clouds with some indescribable—indecipherable—but before Mary can even attempt to figure it out, she is saying, “Yeah; yeah, everything’s fine. I was actually wondering if I could talk to you?”

The first thing that pops into her mind is ‘and you decided to do this at two o’clock in the morning?’ However, having smartened in the few years which she has been trapped in her own house for, this is not what she says aloud.

Instead, she decides on, “Er, yeah, sure, just—“

This is followed by an awkward step to the side to allow room for Lily to enter, closing the door behind her when she does.

And then they’re standing in the middle of the room, shifting their weight from one foot to the other as they await the other to break the silence.

Do you want to—“ Mary begins, gesturing towards the chair by the table—this encounter is awkward enough without getting the bed involved— at the same time that Lily asks, “Should I—“

Beat.

Almost gratefully, Lily takes the seat while Mary does the same across from her on the bed, attempting to cover her slight blush. Fighting the impulse to tap her foot on the floor repeatedly—a habit she has never been able to quite stop—she awaits an explanation for Lily’s sudden appearance at her door at two in the morning. One is not supplied.

Time, she reminds herself. Give her time.

”So, I er— didn’t actually plan anything before coming here,” Lily admits eventually, looking at her lap while she fiddles with a loose thread on her pyjama bottoms. “I’ve just— I’ve been wanting to talk to you all day and I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d just…” she trails off, as if unsure of what led to her coming here so late.

”Show up unannounced at my door?” Mary finishes jokingly, immediately regretting it when Lily’s expression grows apologetic.

”Sorry,” she says needlessly as Mary reassures her that apologies are not necessary. That was a stupid joke, she shouldn’t have said that. “I, well, there’s no easy way to say this, so once I get going, please don’t interrupt me. I just don’t think I’ll be able to build up the courage twice.”

Mary suspects that this may be the beginning of said ‘get going,’ so she only nods, sitting up as Lily continues.

”So, I just want to get this out of the way first; Mary, I thought you were practically dead all this time. I’d accepted that I would never see you again, and that you and I would never be… ‘you and I’ again. And even though it’s been years, I don’t think all of me completely accepted that like I thought I did, because…”

Once again, she trials off, and Mary has to physically bite her tongue not to speak because she has no clue where this is going but it feels important. Something about this… she has a feeling this is what will determine their lives from now on.

”Since you came back,” she continues, still having not looked at Mary once since sitting down. “I’ve been… thinking, and I— fuck, this is going to sound so stupid, but I seriously started considering that I might not be completely over you while watching one of my mum’s old Turkish TV shows. It’s just… there were these two characters, and they went through hell together, and they were constantly together and apart, but in the end, they always found their way back to each other. And I think that’s when I realised.”

Mary is practically vibrating, ready to explode, right now with what this must mean, but she made a promise and she sticks to it, staying silent while she awaits the final sentence.

”No matter how much time passes, in every single universe, we’re inevitable, you and me.”

Oh.

Oh, that—

Oh.

Now feels like the perfect time to finally speak her thoughts, except Lily has managed to leave her speechless yet again. What is she to do with this information? It feels far too soon to do anything, but she’s not going to be able to help it if Lily isn’t gone in the next thirty seconds.

“Mary, can I ask you something?” she says instead, beginning to fiddle with the loose thread again. “Am I a horrible person?”

”Of course not,” she reassures immediately, like a reflex. “What makes you say that?”

”Well, I—“ Lily cuts herself off as if unsure of why she is feeling the way she is feeling. “I was going to marry him, I know I was. If you and Regulus hadn’t shown up, I would’ve said I do, and lived a life with him until the very end. Am I a horrible person for doubting my love for him so quickly? What if I hurt him? You know how sensitive James was, but after Regulus, he was… broken. He was never the same again, and what if one more heartbreak is too much, what if—”

“Lils,” she begins, using the nickname to grab her attention; she hasn’t said it in almost five years. “Listen to me. You said it yourself, you thought I was practically dead. If your great-grandma appeared at the wedding and told you not to marry James, would you have done it anyway? Something like that will have a big impact on you, and considering what you and I used to be, it was completely normal and human to react in the way you did. Feelings are complicated, and you’re not a horrible person, nor a stupid one, for confusing them. You’re not a horrible person, even if you do hurt him with this, because feelings can’t be helped, and it’s the last thing you want to do anyway. James is mature when he needs to be; I’m sure he’ll be happy for you no matter what decision you reach at the end. And… as hard as it will be, I’ll find a way to be okay with it too.”

Lily doesn’t meet her eyes as she practically whispers, “And if I thought I wanted you?”

Despite the multiple backflips her heart performs in her chest, Mary finds the tiniest of smiles poking at the corners of her mouth as she leans in slightly and, just as quietly, replies, “I don’t think I’ll have to try very hard to be okay with that.”

She’s missed making Lily blush, she realises, as the familiar flush creeps up the woman’s neck to match her hair.

Yeah, she’ll definitely find a way to be okay with this.

*

The Next Day: James

James awakes the next morning to find that his usual morning avalanche of overthinking and worrying is waiting for him as it is every day. Today, the worry about Regulus has decreased to a minimum, but it has been replaced in kind by worry about talking to Lily, so it amounts to the same thing, really.

And then, he receives a surprise of which he isn’t sure how to feel.

”You’re what?” he emphasises, directing the words at Sirius even though he and Remus had told James together.

”Moving,” Sirius clarifies anyway, aware that he had been heard perfectly fine the first time. “We’ve found a place, it’s not too far from here, and we’re moving in there.”

Now, James is many things, but he is not a fool. An idiot, sometimes, but never a fool. He is well aware that his best friend is only doing this to get away from a rather new guest at the house, but if running away from problems was possible, James would be in fucking Antarctica by now. And he is not going to let this happen for any reason but the one it should; want. Love.

”Remus, can you give us a minute?”

The man only hesitates for the briefest of moments before scraping his chair back and leaving the room. The remaining two stare at each other stubbornly for a minute or two before James inevitably cracks.

”I know why you’re doing this,” he states calmly. “But honestly, Sirius, you can’t run from him forever.”

”Do you love him?”

”What?” he blurts out; the question throws him off, and he thinks it was intended to.

”You heard me.”

Beat.

”Would it change anything?” he asks eventually, not wanting to reveal too much just yet.

”The likelihood of me being able to run away,” Sirius responds, like this means nothing to him. It’s as if they’re talking about the bloody weather, for goodness sake.

”Sirius.”

”James.”

He scoffs, pushing his chair backwards as he decides that he has simply had enough. Honestly, why can’t he catch a break? All he wants to do is have an open, adult conversation, but he had forgotten that Sirius Black didn’t bother growing past the age of sixteen.

”You know what? Fine,” he declares, finally at his limit. “Move in, move out, I don’t fucking care. But take it from someone who knows; getting away from Regulus Black is nowhere near as easy as it seems, especially when you never really wanted to do it in the first place.”

Some kind of understanding appears to hit Sirius, but before he can open his mouth, two simultaneous voices have both of them turning towards the door.

”Really?” they say with equal shock, and it takes James a minute to register that the voices belong to Lily and Regulus who are both standing at the door as they watch him. Oh oh. This is not how he meant for any of this to go. This isn’t—

“Lily,” he finds himself apologising before even considering what to say. “I—

“I think it’s about time we all talked,” she tells him, turning to Regulus as she adds, “Can you get Mary?”

Regulus’ gaze lingers on James and Sirius, as though wondering why on Earth he would be mentioned in such a way, before he leaves to presumably call Mary.

James feels something rise in his throat.

*

Present Day: Lily

Does this mean what she thinks it means? Will everything be sorted out after all? Is it simply that easy?

Well, no, it’s not that easy; they all still have a lot to work through, but if James is on the same page as her, then…

Then it takes a lot of the weight off her shoulders.

Foot tapping on the floor repeatedly, she and James await Regulus’ return—preferably with Mary in tow—and avoid eye contact at all costs. It’s funny how life works sometimes; only a few days ago they would have been joking and laughing, their relationship comfortable and easy. She feels an odd ache when thinking about it because she’s aware of the time it will take for them to return to that state, and she’ll miss James sorely during that time.

But sometimes, you simply have to grit your teeth and take what life throws at you. You never know, it might end better than your wildest dreams.

Simultaneously, their heads snap up as Mary and Regulus appear at the door, the former looking particularly nervous as her gaze flicks from Lily to James like she’s watching a table tennis match. This is it. Lily sends a silent prayer to her heart to please slow down a little; it’s about to pump right out of her chest in a minute.

Fuck, she’s nervous.

Of course, James immediately does that thing only he can do where he distracts people from their problems without even realising it.

Sitting up, he jumps into a clearly rehearsed apology, but Lily is interrupting before he manages to get out anymore than, “Listen, I really didn’t—“

”James,” she interjects quickly. “Shut up.”

His eyebrows furrow—visibly confused as to how he is not in the wrong at the moment. Classic James.

”But I—“

”No.”

”But you—“

”No.”

”But—

“No.”

In the end, he settles for an annoyed huff as he sits back and crosses his arms, clearly inviting her to speak. Well, it was Lily who called this meeting after all.

”Here goes, I guess,” she mutters, not quiet enough to be kept to herself, but not exactly announcing it to everyone in the room either. “I wanted us all to know where everyone stands so that we can get to figuring this out. No one’s having a good time at the moment, and I’m sick of walking on eggshells in this house, especially because Effie and Monty have given us all space without any questioning and the very least we could do for them is stop avoiding our problems and solve this once and for all.”

Silence follows her words. And then:

”What do you suggest we do?” Regulus asks when neither of the others do.

Her throat is so dry, but she continues speaking anyway.

”I think it’s clear where you two—“ she glances heavily at Regulus and Mary. “—stand. The unknown here, for some of us at least, is us.” She looks to James to find that he’s looking down at his lap with an almost guilty expression. Yeah, she thinks to herself. You and me both. “ James?”

Slowly, his gaze follows her voice, but the guilt in his eyes doesn’t quite disappear. She finds herself mentally apologising to him before she can even consider the fact that this isn’t really her fault. What was it Mary had told her? Feelings are complicated? Yeah, she thinks she gets it now.

When James doesn’t speak, she decides to get her turn over and done with. There’s no going back now.

”I’ve been thinking,” she begins carefully, practically taking a deep breath as she continues from pure nerves. “And, as hard as it was, I’ve reached a decision. James, I love you, I always have; but I think it took me until all of this to realise that my love for you is of the same love I have for Marlene and Remus and— well, you get my point. I’m really, really sorry for not realising it earlier and taking so long, but I—“

”What? You— no, Lily,” James suddenly jumps in, expression shifting dramatically. “Don’t do that needless apology thing, that’s my thing. And as for everything else you said, I— yes, I feel the exact same way. I’ve been sitting here feeling shitty for the exact same reasons and everything! I love you, and I don’t want to lose you, but I think we might’ve just been convincing ourselves that we were made for each other in that way. Maybe in some other universe, we are. But I agree with you; this isn’t that universe.”

Oh. He— he really—

Oh.

Relief flooding through her, she finds herself flying across the room to throw herself at him, hugging him tightly as he returns it with just as much enthusiasm. Fuck, everything’s going to be okay. They’re going to be okay. A laugh is bubbling past her lips before she can even register it, even though her eyes are watering from— she isn’t sure, really. She’s just so relieved.

Once they pull away from each other, Lily settles in beside him on the sofa while Mary and Regulus watch them, expressions joyful and yet confused too. It almost causes her to laugh again. Almost.

“I hate to be the one to ruin the moment,” Mary starts, raising a hand like a child in a classroom. “But… what now?”

Lily hesitates, turning her head to glance at James who returns her uncertain look. Surprisingly, it’s Regulus who speaks first.

”As a very smart yet stupid boy once told me,” he says, the stare at James enough to make it clear who he means. “We go on however we want to, whether that’s baby steps or big leaps. At the end of the day, as long as we’re together, nothing else really matters.”

There is a beat or two of silence as a small smile spreads over Lily and James’ features before Mary is releasing an exhale-like chuckle as she tells James, “God, you were a soppy teenager.”

Scowling, James throws a cushion at her—his aim accurate from his rugby playing days—while Lily and Regulus laugh at the two of them.

Yeah, everything really is going to be okay after all.

Chapter Text

One Week Later: Mary

She’s in the kitchen, adding the final touches to a breakfast tray when James wanders in, hair sticking out every which way, being the only other one awake at this time. Yawning, he saunters over to where she is standing at a counter, cleaning his glasses with his top while he’s at it so it’s a miracle that he doesn’t crash into anything, really. When he reaches her, he places them back onto his face and blinks confusedly. He looks at the tray, at Mary, back at the tray, et cetera, et cetera.

”Mare…” he begins slowly. “What’s the occasion?”

”I’m just making Lils some breakfast,” she replies nonchalantly, very aware of the panic he is about to spiral into and enjoying it.

”Wait, you’re making her breakfast in bed?”

She sighs. “No, James, I just felt like putting it on a tray. Yes, I’m making her breakfast in bed, idiot.”

And, as predicted, James’ hand flies to his hair, a kind of distress engulfing his features. Point to Mary.

”You can’t do that!” he protests before silencing before her questioning gaze. “I— I mean, of course, do whatever you want, but— Mare, I’m going to look like a dick now.”

She smiles, seemingly innocent, before jokingly muttering, “That’s the plan.”

”Oh, you’re so—“ he cuts himself off, pausing as though something has dawned on him. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Oh, you little shit, MacDonald, it is on.”

”Do your best, Potter,” she quips, grinning.

He then turns around and jogs right back to his room, murmuring, “Oh, I will,” the entire time.

To say the least, Lily is very confused when Mary enters her room, whether from the tray in her hands or the amused expression on her face, she isn’t quite sure herself. Pleased with herself, Mary walks right in and places the tray on the bedside table before perching on the edge of the bed.

”What have you done?” she inquires suspiciously, clearly having noticed her pleased smile.

”Nothing, why?”

The reply to this is a mere look that says, clear as day, ‘do I look like an idiot to you?’ which, now that she thinks about it, is fair.

“All I did was make you breakfast,” she returns, which isn’t exactly a lie, it just isn’t the whole truth.

Lily doesn’t look as though she believes her but accepts the tray onto her lap with no further arguments, eating diligently when bade to do so. She compliments the food with the most pretentious of vocabulary, even though it’s literally just some toast, yogurt and fruit, eggs, orange juice, and sucuk which is a strange crossover between a sausage and pepperoni, if you ask Mary, but Lily seems to love it, so she won’t argue with the logic behind it.

Lily’s just lifting a spoonful of yogurt to her mouth when she pauses, looks at her, and informs, “I will find out what you did, you know.”

Mary makes a half frustrated, half offended noise. “I haven’t done anything!”

She only hums in that sarcastic way which can only mean disbelief, continuing on with her breakfast while Mary fights the urge to snatch it away from her using the offensiveness of this false accusation as an excuse, but she finds herself unable to move from where she sits, watching the other woman eat.

She’s just so jaw-droppingly, crack-your-neck-looking-at kind of beautiful.

Mary has practically made it a life mission to memorise every single detail about Lily Evans; every freckle, every strand of hair, every perfect imperfection, anything noticeable about her and everything not. There isn’t a particular reason for this, no reward, nothing such as that. It’s like memorising your favourite singer’s entire discography—you do it for fun, and to occasionally surprise people when you feel like it.

She’s staring off into space again when Lily looks at her, sighs softly, and lowers the cutlery.

“Do you want to do something today?” she asks, snapping Mary right out of it. “Just the two of us?”

Feigning that the answer to that question isn’t already an unquestionable yes, she pretends to consider the offer.

”Like what?” she inquires instead, reaching to snag a piece of toast from the plate.

Lily shrugs, a strand of her hair coming loose from where she’s tied it up the night prior, and lifts the tray to lower it back onto the bedside table. As she crosses her legs, she slides closer.

”We could go out,” she suggests vaguely. “To the cinema, bowling, we could even go to the pool; it’s still hot enough now that it’s mid-August. Or we could just grab some coffee and see where we go. Whatever you like.”

Whatever you like, she finds herself thinking before she can even register it.

“Don’t tell James I said this,” she begins slowly. “But I’m willing to go anywhere and do anything so long as it’s with you.”

Lily smiles, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before the first half of the sentence appears to register with her. “Why shouldn’t I tell James?” she asks curiously, a small wrinkle present between her eyebrows to convey her confusion.

“Well, I can’t risk ruining our dynamic,” she explains, adding, “I make fun of the soppy things he says, not the other way around,” when Lily’s bemused expression doesn’t shift in the slightest.

She chuckles softly, and Mary could swear that the sun rises and the birds start chirping along with it. Oh, look at her, Lily’s turning her into the biggest sap ever; what happened to the Mary who had a reputation for shagging anyone that looked at her twice without even touching a single person?

You happened, she thinks to herself, and apparently aloud as she watches her—girlfriend? Partner? Whatever they are—gaze at her.

”I happened to what exactly?”

Mary blinks. “Did I say that out loud?” she says without an ounce of shame in her tone.

Lily hums in agreement. “So, what did I happen to?”

”Me.”

When Lily raises her eyebrows, Mary is quite perplexed, but then she snorts which only makes matters more confusing.

“Canım, you’re the one who objected at my wedding,” she says, apparently very amused by the irony. “If anything, you happened to me.”

”My life, you’re the one who…”

(It’s an actual nickname in the language like ‘my love’ in English).

”Miss Evans, are you complaining about my spectacular reappearance into your life?” Mary suggests, feigning offence with a hand at her heart. “Because I can leave at any given moment, if that’s what you’d like.”

”Oh, please, you wouldn’t leave if I begged you on my knees, and I wouldn’t ask you to if you begged me on yours.”

”Can we please stop talking about getting on our knees before I say something either sickeningly sweet or extremely dirty?” Mary requests, literally saying the first thing to pop into her head while Lily begins to laugh again.

”Mm, alright, let’s change the subject,” she agrees, still grinning with that twinkle in her eyes that Mary has grown to search for. “So, what should we do today?”

”Please don’t make me make a decision,” she implores instead, being extremely indecisive. “I would rather sit here all day than have to choose something.”

Lily tilts her head to the left, squinting slightly at the ground as though she is attempting to come up with a solution out of thin air. It takes about ten seconds before:

”I’ve got it,” she announces, gaze snapping back up to face Mary again as she smiles. Getting to her feet, she drags Mary up by her hands and turns her towards the door. “Go get ready; it’s a surprise.”

Despite her groaning, Mary obeys. “How am I supposed to pick what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?”

“Wear something casual—comfortable,” Lily calls as she spins to face her wardrobe. “Jeans and a nice top? Or a day dress?”

At this point, Mary can’t tell whether she’s talking to her or to herself as she scans her wardrobe, but she’s pretty much out of the door anyway.

And that’s when she bumps into James again.

*

Ten Minutes Earlier: James

James is in a rather pathetic panic as he makes his way to Regulus’ room. It’s been about a week since their big talk, and Mary’s adorable-yet-unfortunate-for-him act this morning is going to put him in a very bad light. He can’t be the only one not doing romantic things, now can he? Especially not as the resident romantic of the house.

So, it’s with this mindset that he finds himself at the younger Black’s door, knocking and entering without waiting for permission because he doubts that he’ll be rejected anyway. Well, unless Regulus is still asleep which is unlikely, given the time and his morning reading habits.

As he closes the door behind himself, Regulus looks up from his book where he has clearly been reading on the bed, still half-buried in his duvet, and smiles yet squints a little in suspicion simultaneously. James does nothing to resolve his obvious confusion, only moves closer to take a seat beside him, causing him to shift to the side a little so that they can fit.

Once they’re settled together, James rests his chin on the other man’s shoulder, Regulus looking at him as though he’s struggling to keep a burst of laughter in and wondering what on Earth is going on at the same time.

”Hi,” he greets eventually with an amused tone when all James does is stare at him.

”Hello,” he replies, eyes practically crossing from gazing seeing how close their faces are.

”Did you want something?” Regulus asks.

”Must I want something to come into your room?” he returns with a subconsciously mischievous smile that reveals everything left unsaid.

”So you’re telling me you don’t want anything, and that you only walked in here to watch me read?” he inquires further, always one to answer questions with more questions.

”Well, alright, I do have something to ask you,” James admits, noticing the immediate triumphant hue Regulus’ expression takes on at his words. “But I wouldn’t be opposed to, as you put it, ‘watching you read.’”

”Mm, I know, believe me. What did you want to ask me?”

“First, I’d just like to state the unfairness of our living situation here,” he declares, quickly adding, “I mean, it’s not like I can just show up at your house to surprise you with a date,” when Regulus seems to grow panicked as if he’s expecting a request to move in together. “So, as annoying as it is, I have to settle for the next best thing.”

”Which is…?” Regulus prompts when he doesn’t continue.

”Showing up at your room unannounced,” he explains, grinning when the other man raises his eyebrows again in inquiry. “I’ve come to ask you out on a date.”

”A date?” he repeats hesitantly, like James is messing with him. Yeah, right, as if.

James hums in reply, pecking his cheek before he can protest which makes an instantaneous blush flood his face—not that he’s about to point it out. “I’ve got to go help maan with breakfast now, and you’ll have about an hour after that to get ready; sound good?”

“I’ve got to go help mum with breakfast…”

”Yes, but where are we going?”

”Ah, that’s a surprise,” he promises secretively.

Regulus huffs, but there’s no irritation behind it, really. “You know how I feel about surprises.”

”Unfortunately, I do, yes, but I love them, so you’re going to have to endure this one for me today, okay? You’ll love it, I promise.”

When his expression doesn’t shift from feigning annoyance, James quickly leans forward to kiss his other cheek, leaping out of the bed with a small yelp when he is swatted at, practically jogging to the door while calling, “One hour after breakfast! Be ready!”

He hears Regulus’ half-hearted mutters with a small smile behind them until the door is closed.

He’s so distracted and lost in his thoughts that he bumps right into Mary in the corridor.

*

Present Day: Lily

She ensures that Mary’s eyes remain closed the entire trip; no peeking whatsoever. This is supposed to be a surprise, and she’s going to make sure it stays that way, no matter how many times they almost bump into rather solid things given Mary’s not-so-optional choice of allowing Lily to be her guide.

Once they enter the building, Lily waits until they’ve arrived at a separate room to finally uncover the woman’s eyes, grinning at the way her jaw drops almost instantly.

”You did not,” Mary says in disbelief, looking around her.

”I can assure you that I did,” Lily quips in response, pleased by the reaction. “You like it, then?”

”Oh, I love it,” she declares fervently, taking Lily’s hand in her own as she kisses her cheek with a loud ‘mwah’ sound to depict her gratitude. “What’s first on the line-up?”

“That’s my second surprise.”

”Another one?” Mary complains, but there’s not an ounce of genuineness behind the words.

She takes a seat while Lily steps up to the makeshift stage and, grabbing one of the microphones there, assumes her position. When the music begins, it’s clear that she recognises the song but can’t quite seem to recall it’s name until Lily starts to sing.

”You’re on the phone with your girlfriend, she’s upset, she’s going off about something that you said, she doesn’t get your humour like I do…”

It’s rather amusing to watch Mary’s mouth fall open again in a satisfying combination of surprise and admiration as she continues with the song, growing particularly enthusiastic at the chorus when she jumps off of the stage to take Mary by the hand and drag her back with her.

”…been here all along, so why can’t you see-ee-ee? You belong with me-e-ee. You belong with me.”

Mary takes over for the next verse, all but serenading her as they sing and laugh and dance together, and when it comes time for the bridge, they sing together, Lily adjusting the lyrics slightly to which Mary laughs brightly.

“Oh, I remember you objecting at my wedding really, really late at night, you’re the one who makes me laugh when I know I’m ‘bout to cry; I know your favourite songs, and you tell me ‘bout your dreams, think I know where you belong, think I know it’s with me…”

By the final chorus, they’re practically shouting that they belong to each other, which sounds rather strange without context, but in the moment, there’s nothing more romantic. The impulsive urge to snog is right there, but it’s only been a week and Lily refuses to mess this up. It’s their second chance. Most don’t get one, and the ones who do either don’t require a third, or hope for anything but one.

Eventually, the song ends with a final chord and they’re left studying each other with the general message of the song still left hanging in the air, almost fizzing with it.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Mary informs softly. “I didn’t get much of a chance to tell you earlier with all of the blindfolding and eye covering.”

Lily smiles, feeling the familiar heat creep it’s way onto her face; lovely, now she’s matching her strawberry-patterned dress.

“Thank you, Regulus and I helped each other out with outfits today,” she explains, attempting in vain to understand Mary’s small change in expression. “You look stunning, darling.”

And she really does. She’s in a pair of low-waisted, denim shorts with a thin, black belt looped through it, and a white, cropped shirt along with a gold necklace and her flower stud earrings that she used to wear back when they were in school. She used to make jokes about the earrings and Lily both being flowery, yet when they began going out, the studs never left her ears.

It’s when Mary asks which song is next that Lily snaps out of it, moving to play the next one instead of internally salivating about her.

“You said that you and Regulus helped each other with outfits?” she repeats inquisitively; Lily nods. “Do you know where he’s going? And with who?”

Lily considers before asking a question of her own: “Is this about what you were up to this morning?”

It takes a beat or two longer than expected for Mary to answer. “Possibly.”

”What have you done?”

”Nothing. Yet.”

Aware that she isn’t going to get much further than that, Lily leaves it alone—if it were important, surely she’d know. Besides, she trusts Mary. This is likely something between her and one of the boys (she refuses to call them men, they haven’t changed one bit in the last decade) and if so, she’ll probably find out soon enough anyway. Remus and Regulus come to her as soon as they have new information, and James and Sirius are absolutely awful at keeping secrets. It’s only Peter who can keep his mouth shut.

“What should I play next?”

They stay at the karaoke room for quite a few hours before it’s dinner time.

*

Regulus

In hindsight, Regulus should have suspected this; it’s just like James to do something like this. Yet while he had been racking his brains back home in an attempt to figure out where on Earth they were going—not that he would put it past James to find a way to visit Mars—he hadn’t come up with the obvious answer. The one hiding in plain sight.

James Potter has brought him to a bookshop.

To be completely honest, Regulus wasn’t aware that he could fall for someone in this way. But the instant nostalgia with which he is hit the second he steps into the shop is enough for him to determine that James knows him better than he knows himself, and that he better not mess this up because holy shit is this man perfect.

Don’t get him wrong, he would never admit this aloud, but it’s almost irritating how he can’t find a single detail he’d like to change about James. There isn’t a single thing, down to his last strand of hair. As someone who is usually quite talented at observing dislikes about a person, this frustrates him to no end. He’s joking, mostly.

Mostly.

He’s been told that he often spends far too long in bookstores, especially the classics section, but James just… stands there, either holding his hand, or slinging an arm around his shoulders, or wrapping both arms around his waist and resting his chin on his shoulder from behind. He’s always browsing around without a clue about the contents of any book, or watching as Regulus does the same with much more knowledge, or pointing one out because it has a nice cover or a funny title. It’s perfectly peaceful, despite a couple of unwelcome stares when it becomes clear that they are far from platonic.

And then, a little, blonde-haired girl—around the age of three—almost stumbles towards them, clearly having strayed from her parent(s) or guardian prior. Regulus has always been rather clueless as to what to do with children, but James just lowers himself to her level and begins talking to her like a natural.

“Hello,” he greets softly, and Regulus recognises the way she seems to immediately trust him. Yeah, he thinks, you and me both. “What’s your name?”

”Dora,” she answers a little timidly. “It’s for my daddies’ friend.”

”Is that so? That’s a very nice name,” he compliments, already drawing a reluctant smile from a small child that he literally met a minute ago. “I’m James, and this—“ he gestures up at where Regulus is still standing straight, watching them. “—is Regulus. Who are you here with, Dora?”

”My daddies,” she replies, audibly growing a little upset as she vaguely points behind her—no one is visible searching for their child. “I went to look at a pretty book, and then they went poof! Do you know them?”

“I’m not sure,” James replies honestly. “But I can help you find them, if you like?”

She nods right away, taking his outstretched hand as he leads her away on the hunt for a likely very panicked pair of men. Regulus can’t help but think how lucky it is that she stumbled across someone like James; the scenario could have gone very differently otherwise.

”I’ll be back in a minute, alright, Reg?” he says, spluttering when Dora asks something about ‘love’ and ‘him’ and ‘like Daddy and Papa.’ She’s a rather cute child, he’ll admit. Inquisitive little thing, which is probably how he was as a child too.

It takes about five or so minutes before James returns to find Regulus in the exact same place, something about his demeanour causing Regulus to ask whether he got her back okay.

”Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah, we found them alright. They were very relieved, to say the least, I think Ev— er, one of the blokes was about to pull his hair out from worry; wouldn’t stop thanking me even though I told them that I had literally just done the bare minimum as a decent human being. They send their regards, by the way, Dora had the idea of telling them that I was ‘like them,’ and then they wouldn’t stop apologising before I explained that she was quite right in the sense that I am, indeed, gay, and that I do have a boyfriend as their daughter kept announcing. She’s quite adorable in a funny way, isn’t she?”

Regulus nods in agreement, pretending that the official label of ‘boyfriend’ hasn’t just sent him into a mini panic as he wonders whether to mention it or not. He’s only about halfway through arguing with himself when it’s too late to bring it up anyway.

”So, what do you say, are you ready to leave or still browsing?”

He looks down at the stack of books in his arms and decides that yes, his limbs are about to give out, so yes, he would like to pay now, please. That is when James yanks the books from him and insists that it’s his duty to pay, as though it’s some kind of unwritten rule. When Regulus points out that there are only his own purchases in there, and so it makes more sense for him to pay for it himself, he is completely ignored by James who hums innocently as though his apparent boyfriend doesn’t exist for the time being.

Well, it’s free books, he isn’t about to complain.

They grab a cup of coffee each on the way home—Regulus carefully whips his card out before their orders are verbalised so that he can quickly press it to the reader before James’ protests can take shape. He feels bad enough that the rather heavy bag of books has already been paid for and is currently being carried by the man—this is purely because of his infuriating ability to be stubborn—he isn’t about to skip the opportunity to pay for a couple of drinks.

James’ facetious sulk doesn’t last two minutes outside the shop.

Chapter Text

Present Day: Mary

Lily Evans is an evil genius and Mary is obsessed with her. She never fails to make Mary’s break hitch, to make her heart skip a beat, to make her jaw drop when she’s least expecting it. Wondering what on Earth she’s on about now? Here’s how Mary’s morning goes:

”Fuck off!” is the first thing she screams from sheer shock, squealing incomprehensibly as she darts forward to envelope the two women at the door in a huge hug.

”We missed you!” Emmeline and Pandora chorus, returning the embrace with equal energy until she can barely breathe. Their suitcases remain neglected just outside of the door.

Pulling away, her gaze constantly flicking from one woman to the other, she tells them, “So did I! Oh my God, what are you doing here?”

”That would be my doing,” comes Lily’s voice, followed by her body appearing through the living room door where she has clearly been listening. Her smile is blinding and Mary wants to kiss it, but they’ve agreed on boundaries and she is not about to ruin this when she’s so close.

”You?” she repeats, amazed as ever.

She hums in agreement. “Remember karaoke a couple weeks ago? Pandora here just so happened to be a receptionist working there. I slipped her my phone number while we were leaving and we’ve been planning their visit since.”

Emmeline and Pandora grin knowingly as Mary invites them in and closes the door behind them; while Potter Manor is quite large, she isn’t sure whether it’ll be too easy to have so many guests in a house. But if anyone can do it, it’s Effie.

After some consideration, however, the guilt builds and she decides that there is no harm in asking.

”Lils,” she calls, walking over to where the woman is still standing. Her tone is quieter when she speaks next. “Have you told Effie and Monty about this?”

Lily chuckles softly, eyes sparkling, and oh, Mary is a goner. She’s aware of how sappy she sounds at the moment, but who wouldn’t for Lily Evans?

”It was actually their idea,” she informs amusedly. “Well, it was Effie who told me, but I’m sure she ran it by Monty beforehand.”

”Oh,” she breathes, touched that they would do that for someone who tipped their lives upside down only a few weeks ago.

Lily’s grin widens as she pecks Mary’s cheek and, nodding towards the two women standing a little cluelessly in the middle of the corridor, prompts, “Go on, show them to their rooms. It’s the two next to yours.”

Nodding, Mary moves to do just that when Marlene and Dorcas walk out of the kitchen, hand-in-hand. It takes about two seconds before there is a lot of screaming and shouting and hugging which leads to even more people coming downstairs and out of respective rooms to see what on Earth is going on. The cycle repeats a couple times, beginning a slight migraine of Mary’s.

By the end, Dorcas and Regulus are attached to Pandora, chattering away as they catch up and Marlene and James watch fondly; Remus and Sirius, on the other hand, greet and reminisce with Emmeline who they both apparently know separately. Effie and Monty stay for the beginning, sharing fond glances, before they retreat into the living room to give them some privacy.

And that’s when the doorbell rings again.

*

Present Day: Regulus

James Potter is an evil mastermind when he wants to be, and Regulus is obsessed with him. Because he can take days like this, days that seem completely ordinary, and turn them upside down in a heartbeat. Wondering what on Earth he’s on about now? This is how Regulus’ morning goes:

After reuniting, in a way, with Emmeline and Pandora, the doorbell rings for a second time, and nobody moves to answer it. Regulus glances at Lily who is closest to the door, only to watch a wide grin spread on her face as she shares a knowing look with James who is also grinning excitedly.

”Love, why don’t you get it?” James suggests to him, nodding towards the door.

Squinting suspiciously, Regulus slowly makes his way over to the door and turns the handle to be met with a sight that he never thought he’d have to see again.

There, at the door, stands little Dora from the bookshop.

”Dora?” he blurts, glancing behind her to ensure that she is, indeed, alone. “What are you doing here?”

”Are you my uncle Reggie?” she asks instead, completely bypassing his question and sending him into an even deeper abyss of confusion than the one in which he is already stuck.

”Your what?”

”My papa said that you’re his friend, and daddy said that you were friends with— with b—“ she is about to say when Evan pops out from beside the door.

”I told Barty to stop saying that,” he groans before turning back to the girl, lowering himself onto his knees so that they’re level, height-wise. “Dora,” following this is a short phrase, likely a nickname, in Italian that Regulus doesn’t comprehend for the life of him. “—we don’t listen to daddy when he says silly things like that, okay?”

”Yeah, right, daddy’s the bad one here,” Barty mutters, almost jumping out from his own hiding place on the other side of the door, and in turn jumbling Regulus’ thoughts even more than they already were prior to this interaction. “I’m not the one calling me that in front of her, am I?”

Evan kicks him, which, in all honesty, is the first thing that’s happened this morning to make sense. Dora giggles when her dad releases a punched-out, pained kind of noise somewhere between a scoff and an exhale; she’s likely used to this by now, unlike Regulus who is still struggling to understand just what is going on.

“What the f—“ he cuts himself off to remember that there is now a young child present and that he has to mind what he says. “What are you doing here?”

At this, Evan smirks triumphantly and nudges Barty with his elbow. “Pay up, Crouch.”

Grumbling, Barty reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ten pound note, handing it to the man beside him as he corrects, “That’s Crouch-Rosier to you, Rosier.”

“And that’s Crouch-Rosier to you, Crouch.”

”And that’s—“

”You got married?” Regulus blurts out before either can continue with their ridiculous bickering. Alright, marriage probably comes hand-in-hand with, you know, a child, and perhaps he can’t exactly talk about hiding things without sounding hypocritical but—

”You’re alive?” Barty returns, apparently indifferent on the subject. He’s kidding. Mostly.

”That’s old news; when did this happen?”

”This has been going on for the last seven years,” Evan contradicts, gesturing between himself and the man—apparently his husband—next to him. “Since when are you okay and reconciled with loverboy?”

Regulus is going to kill him. It’s the only solution.

”I guess that’s my cue,” James mumbles, stepping forwards. “Hey, thanks for coming, and you can call me James.”

”Sorry loverboy; habit,” Barty informs him casually while Regulus fights the urge to facepalm. “Thanks for letting us know and inviting us, though, otherwise we would’ve found out at Reggie’s actual funeral that he was alive all this time.”

“My pleasure,” is all James says, grinning when Dora seems to recognise him and practically jumps out at him, wrapping her tiny arms around his legs before he lifts her into his arms to greet her properly.

“James,” Regulus murmurs to him, genuinely confused now. “I know your house is big, but there are… thirteen people here, plus your parents, plus Peter coming later. How are we all going to fit?”

The man’s eyes take on that mischievous glint of their’s when he’s planning something. It makes the swarm of butterflies in Regulus’ stomach suddenly flutter around like they’re trying to escape his insides completely.

”You leave that to me, love,” he promises quietly. “And besides, do you really think everyone here will be staying in their own rooms even if we put them in separate ones?”

It doesn’t even take the pointless glance around at the rest of the guests for Regulus to conclude that he is correct. He doubts whether his brother and Remus have been sleeping in their own rooms since the beginning, and the same goes for Dorcas and Marlene. So far, James, Regulus, Mary, and Lily have been sleeping in their own rooms—or at least, as far as Regulus knows—simply until they get back to ‘normal’ again. What normal is these days, he’s still trying to figure out. They all are, really.

As for Barty and Evan, well, they’re married now, so he guesses they have that right. Emmeline and Pandora are a bit tricky; Regulus could swear he had noticed them holding hands when he had first dashed down the stairs, but on second thought, he may have been seeing things. It could even have been a platonic act, not that it’s any of his business.

It is then that Effie’s voice calls James from the living room only to be followed by a large amount of Hindi to which her son smiles, nods, and replies in kind before leading their newest guests—and, by extension, everyone else—upstairs to their rooms.

Dora recognises her namesake literally halfway up the staircase and reaches for her with one hand, demanding to be handed over to which James doesn’t bother protesting. There’s a bit of a bustle as he hands her to Pandora, her apparent auntie, and then continues on, leading the rest of them up.

*

Present Day: Lily

Mary has been acting strange for the last couple of hours and Lily thinks she knows why. It isn’t anything to do with their new visitors, nor any food-related stomach troubles she mumbles about when questioned. No, this is something else entirely.

After giving the woman the better part of two hours to have a proper adult conversation, Lily simply asks to talk to her in another room—leaving everyone else in the kitchen/dining room where they have taken refuge—and leads her upstairs for some privacy. She’s had enough of people running from problems as of late.

Mary is quiet when she closes the door, too quiet. Yet when Lily asks her about what’s troubling her, all she receives is a muttered, “Nothing, why?”

Sighing resignedly, Lily tells her to sit down and joins her on the bed when she does, automatically crossing her legs like a reflex.

”You’re not here,” she states calmly, watching as the words register with the other woman who’s gaze flies up to look at her.

”What do you mean?”

”You’re not here,” she repeats, because she knows. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re on another planet, somewhere far away, even though I can reach out and touch you at the moment. What’s bothering you, Mare? Just talk to me.”

To that, Mary shifts around as she adjusts her position on the bed to presumably get more comfortable; her face, on the other hand, only grows less joyful.

”I don’t… understand,” she admits eventually, which doesn’t make much sense on its own, but alright, Lily’ll take it.

After a beat, she realises that her input is being waited on, so she gently prompts, “Go on.”

Mary appears to consider how to, as Lily put it, ‘go on.’ There must be at least a million different thoughts swarming around her head at the minute, but all Lily does is silently sit there and await her response. They’ve got quite literally all day and all night for every day/night of the week for the foreseeable future, so why shouldn’t she?

”I— we’ve turned all of your lives upside down,” she corrects as she seems to realise. “What used to be peaceful is now only chaos. A simple wedding was turned into relatives being blacklisted and families torn apart. That was all because of m— us. They’re putting so much strain on themselves to look after and feed four more people because of us? I just— don’t understand why they think we deserve that.”

If she’s completely honest, Lily’s heart breaks a little to hear that. The thing is, she knows why Mary is this way; she’s aware of the effects that being brought up a certain way can have on people. But to hear her speak as though she doesn’t deserve the simplest of things…

“Mare, I need you to listen to me.” She meets her eyes once more and the sadness there is almost enough to make her cry. “Our wedding wasn’t picture-perfect anyway. I’m not just talking about James and I clearly having some platonic feelings towards one another, but the family stuff too. Both of our families wanted us to marry someone from the same culture, and we definitely did not do that. They were all walking on eggshells when the topic of the wedding came up even months before the event itself. So you’re not responsible for any of that.”

Mary opens her mouth but Lily only holds up a finger as if to say ‘no, I’m speaking now.’

”Secondly, if there is anything Effie likes, it’s guests to comfort and stuff with as much food as possible. You’ve seen the amount she prepares every day; do you really think the fridge is always full of leftovers for no reason? And we both know that Monty loves to showcase his concoctions and test things on mostly-voluntary guinea pigs.”

”Well, maybe but—“

“I’m not done,” she interrupts, uncaring about being rude at the moment, as long as she gets Mary too see how ridiculous this entire idea is. “You think that you don’t deserve anything, that’s the root of this. This isn’t anything to do with what mistakes you’ve made to ‘not deserve’ acts of kindness. But that voice in your head that tells you that you don’t deserve these things? That’s not you, Mare. It’s them. It’s him. Your true voice is in there somewhere; you just have to find it. You deserve all of these things and more, but the world doesn’t deserve you, Mary MacDonald.”

Watching her with slightly parted lips, Mary lets out a small gasp—it’s more like a hitch of breath—and immediately diverts her gaze, as though she won’t be responsible for her actions if she doesn’t. Lily doesn’t think she’d mind.

”You— you can’t say that to me,” she practically whispers, looking down at her lap.

”Why not?” Lily counters instantly. “Because you think I’m wrong? Or because you know all of what I’m saying is true, and you know that if either of us doesn’t deserve the other, it’s me. I will never deserve you, darling, and I wish you could see yourself from my perspective because you’d never want to look away if you could; why do you think I’m always watching you? What was it you said to me that night? ‘I was mesmerised just watching you?’ You were mesmerised for a moment, and I for a lifetime. I’ll always be mesmerised by you, Mare, even when we’re dead and gone. They’ll dig up my grave one day to find that I’ve turned towards you and my mouth is still hanging open slightly because even in death I’ll never know how I got so lucky. I’ll never know what I did to deserve you and your love.”

Before she becomes aware of any movement, Mary is darting forwards to crash their lips together, not deepening it when Lily doesn’t because, well, they’re still quite new at this, but oh, the urge is there. She’s still hungry for more when they break apart.

That’s the thing about Mary, though; Lily could have her for a lifetime and she doubts she’ll ever have enough. She craves her like water and air.

“Loving you was the smartest choice I ever made,” Mary states fervently, breathing a little altered as she remains within reach, her face mere centimetres away. “That doesn’t say a lot, because I’ve never been the brightest of people, but you loving me is like the creation of the world. I don’t truly know how or why it happened, but I find myself grateful for it every single day of my life, because it’s the reason I’m alive.”

This time it’s Lily that initiates it, moving forward to capture the other woman’s lips with her own as she silently gives in to the impulse. She’s been drowning for an age, and it’s never felt better to come up for air.

They do have to return to the kitchen some time soon, but for now, in the dim light of the room, nothing exists for them outside of each other.

*

Present Day: Regulus

(All translations are underneath their French in bold).

After badgering Remus for the better part of three weeks about the interrupted conversation between his brother and James, the man reveals everything and something clicks. To say the least, Regulus is suddenly furious.

He has had more than enough of his brother abandoning him to avoid his own problems, but to avoid him? Guests or no guests, Regulus is aching for a fight and he won’t leave without one. Which is probably not the smartest decision but ‘regret‘ is practically his middle name by now.

Clearing his throat, he approaches Sirius, who is currently conversing with James and Pandora, Dora’s current favourite playmates, and not-so-quietly murmurs, “Puis-je te dire?”

“Can I talk to you?”

His brother’s expression grows sceptical. “Pourquoi?”

“Why?”

“Suivez moi et tu vas trouver,” he replies easily, recognising the frustration that fades into his brother’s features. He’s never been a fan of stubbornness which is ironic, when you take a look at who his best friend is.

“Follow me and you’ll find out,”…

Huffing annoyedly, Sirius excuses himself and follows Regulus to his temporary room, surprisingly silent all the way there.

Once they are in the room and the door has been closed, Regulus turns to him with an odd sense of calamity despite feeling so angry mere moments ago. He isn’t sure where the feeling comes from, but he’s suddenly much more interested in a mature conversation than he is in an argument. Bloody maturing. He hates it.

“Well?” Sirius speaks out eventually when he doesn’t, staring at him impatiently. “What is it?”

Regulus’ voice is much smaller and more hurtful than he would like it to sound when he responds.

“Are you really moving away because of me?”

He feels an odd sense of deja vu as his brother's face falls, all traces of anger evaporating on the spot to be replaced by guilt. Well, it isn’t as though he needed a confirmation, but it is nice to have one all the same.

“Reg, I—“

“Don’t make excuses. I didn’t call you here to listen to your pathetic excuses again,” he bites out suddenly, unaware of the pent up fury. “I wanted to know if it was true, and I got my answer. You can go now.”

At this, Regulus turns to leave himself because he knows that his brother won’t without an argument and the urge for one has long since drifted for him. However, he barely makes it two steps before there is a firm grip on his forearm, preventing him from getting away.

There’s deja vu with that too.

“You wanted to talk, so we’re going to talk,” Sirius demands in an oddly calm tone. “I’m not letting you do this again, like you used to do when we were younger.”

“This?” he repeats, confused and annoyed at the accusation.

“Don’t play dumb, Reggie. You knew what you were doing then, and you know it now. You drop a bomb and leave the room so you don’t have to watch it explode; well too late. This bomb has been waiting to blow up for five fucking years.”

He smiles then—it’s a small, sad thing that is really nothing more than a last resort from being unsure of what to do with himself—and watches the man with slight pity.

“And what about this one?” he asks quietly.

“What?”

“This one’s been waiting its entire life. Shouldn’t it be a priority?”

He blinks; perplexed. “What are you talking about?”

“Trust me, you don’t want to know,” he promises.

He moves to escape again, but Sirius is even better prepared this time—just a quick swipe of his leg and Regulus’ feet slip out from underneath him. It shouldn’t work, but the element of surprise works to Sirius’ advantage. Groaning, he hits the floor with a small thud and immediately grabs his brother’s ankle, lifts it, and pushes. The older man lands beside him with a cut off yelp and mutter.

It hardly takes any time at all before they’re rolling around on the floor, attempting to throw the other off and keep each other still. At one point, Sirius has his wrists pinned to the ground and hovers above him, only staring for a moment, before he almost whispers, “Why didn’t you come with me, Reg?”

Regulus offers him that same, sad smile as he informs, “It was either one of us or neither of us, and you were more likely to be okay and thrive out there. I was better at doing what I was told, and they wouldn’t have harmed me too badly without you because there were no backups for me. That’s all I was to them, you know? A spare, in case you weren’t perfect, which in their eyes, you certainly weren’t.”

“And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What did you think of me?” he explains, seeming practically terrified for the verdict while he remains frozen in the same position.

“Sirius, I thought the world of you.”

“Thought?”

“Well, it’s hard to think anything about someone you don’t know anymore.”

Regulus is aware that he’s being rather brutal at the minute, but some part of him has been aching to do this for five years now. To remind his brother of everything he has been ignoring so he wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving him behind, to tell him just how much worse it got once he was gone, to—

Sirius stands suddenly, withdrawing himself with such speed that it takes Regulus a moment to register it. Once he gets to his feet, he is being wrapped in a hug so tight that it feels as if his brother is trying to squeeze the very oxygen from his lungs.

Subconsciously, he hugs him back.

It doesn’t last very long; Sirius pulls away just as quickly as he had initiated it and holds out a hand as if they have just concluded a business meeting.

“Hi,” he greets, creating temporary concern within Regulus for his mental sanity. “I’m Sirius Black, your older brother. I’ve been living in this very house for the last five years, with my best friend’s family, and I cried myself to sleep every night for the first two because I was worried sick about you. I know it’s been a while, and we’ve got a long way to go, but I want my brother back. I’ve missed you more than anything, Reggie. It’s just… hard. I spent five years trying to accept the fact that you’d chosen them, and it turns out you chose my best friend. What am I— where do we go from here? We don’t even know each other anymore.”

Regulus looks to the floor, swallows, and tilts his head back up to properly face his brother.

“My name is Regulus Arcturus Black; I like painting, reading, and playing piano. I’m also a huge cliché so I watch the stars every night.” Sirius breathes out a small chuckle. “I’ve spent five years missing you and resenting you simultaneously, and I’m sorry this is how we met again after all this time, but I love him so much that it messes up my ability to think straight. I know that we’re not ideal for you, but I need you to know that I’m not like them, Sirius. I’m not going to hurt him or you even if it kills me. I want my brother back too, and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to get there. I miss us being… I miss us. I miss the menaces we used to be as children, constantly laughing together and running around when we knew we wouldn’t be caught. But I miss the idea of what we could be right now even more.”

They allow the words some time to diffuse into the air, standing in neutral silence as they await input from one another. It takes less than a minute for Sirius’ lips to quirk up at the corners.

“Do you remember when Kreacher made those biscuits, and there was a plate of them in the kitchen?” he begins as Regulus smiles too with the vague memory. “We snuck downstairs when everyone was asleep and stole a couple. Ate them over the bin so there’d be no crumbs of evidence too. I think about that a lot. Those were the good days, weren’t they?”

“I used to think any day with you was a good day.”

Sirius’ head snaps up to face him, shocked.

“Reggie, what the fuck?”

“Er, what?” he says nervously, unsure of what he’s done wrong.

“You— you can’t make me cry right now.” Regulus rolls his eyes. “That’s just— no, you’re not allowed to be sentimental ever again. I want the cold-bitch Reggie back.”

“Alright, do you want to skip forward a few years and talk about what James and I used to do after a rugby match, then?” he quips, all too pleased to return back to pissing his brother off or making him squirm in disgust. It’s rather entertaining.

“Eugh, you— no; no using that against me either. That’s—“ he pauses, as though a thought has just occurred to him. “Why after a rugby match?”

Regulus smirks, grateful for the opportunity to annoy him further. “Well, when he won, he was so energetic, you know? Eager too, just—“

“Alright, alright, you’ve made your point, you little shit,” he interrupts, waving his hands in the air while his face scrunches up in disgust. “Stop that.”

“But don’t you want to hear about the rare times he lost?” Regulus continues anyway, unwilling to return to sentimental conversations. “Now that was fun, let me tell you. He gets riled up quite easily, doesn’t he? Though that was obvious from when we first—“

“Shut it,” Sirius demands, wheezing with his hands on his knees to support him like he’s hearing the funniest story ever which makes Regulus grin a little, if he’s honest. “You— God, you’re a menace, you are. You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Of course.”

More silence. It’s comfortable, though, this time. They’ve essentially broken the ice, and Regulus is feeling more himself than he has all week. Goodness, has he missed fucking with people.

The quiet in the room is just reaching a stage where he feels as though it may be stretching a little too long when Sirius smiles to himself and calls out.

“James,” he announces, causing Regulus to look around the room confusedly—they’re alone. “You can come in now.”

There is a beat or two where nothing happens outside of Regulus furrowing his brows as he wonders what on Earth is going on, and then the door slowly creaks open, a caught-looking James shuffling in after it. Regulus has never known him to eavesdrop, but apparently people really do change.

Or not, he thinks as James immediately jumps to defend himself.

“I swear I didn’t hear much,” he blurts out in a rush. “You guys just took a while, so I thought I’d come to see if everything was okay, and when I—“

“James,” Sirius cuts off the blur of words. “You’re fine. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

The man looks from his best friend to his— Regulus with a sceptical expression. Then again, he could just as well be trying to give himself a minute to catch up with everything.

“Fine?” he repeats, glancing at Regulus as if for confirmation, and he nods.

“Never been finer,” he tells him casually.

Stepping forwards, Sirius whispers something into his best friend’s ear which has Regulus squinting in suspicion. Just what is he up to now?

His curiosity only increases tenfold when James’ gaze instantly flies to him—eyes wider than before—and Sirius pulls away with a smirk, muttering something about looking for Remus as he walks right out of the room. Oh, he’s going to get him back. He’s already concocting plans.

Of course, they vary depending on what Sirius has actually done.

As soon as his brother disappears from view, Regulus turns to James.

“What did he say to you?” he asks curiously with a hint of demanding; James must sense it for he begins grinning.

“That’s for me to know and you to never find out.”

“What have I said about—“

“Apparently you’ve said a lot. Mainly about me.”

That shuts him up rather quickly, his mouth snaps closed with slightly wide eyes as he wonders just how much Sirius has revealed. He was only messing with his brother, but the way that Sirius can exaggerate sometimes…

On a scale from one to ten, Regulus is fucked.

James suddenly bursts out laughing as if he’s listening to the best comedian in the world.

“You look so scared,” he informs, wheezing. “He didn’t give me any details, though I kind of wish he had now. What did you say that’s got you so worried?”

“Let’s just say I was messing with him and leave it at that.”

“And you were using me to do it?”

“Maybe.”

“Mm, I see.”

Regulus pretends to be lost in thought as he stares at the floor, unsure of how to continue the conversation, but then he notices that he is being… studied, so he forcefully lifts his gaze from the floor to face the tall man shamelessly watching him behind his round glasses. They make eye contact, yet neither look away. He understands from James’ widening smile that they’re thinking of the same thing at the moment.

“What are you doing?” Barty demands curiously at lunch while Regulus has a literal staring contest with James across the hall. He made the mistake of looking at the same time and he refuses to crack first.

“Nothing,” he lies quickly—too quickly.

The boy’s gaze follows his to inevitably land on the Gryffindor table where James is still staring back.

“Are you… looking at Potter?” he says incredulously, as if this is the most ridiculous thing to ever take place.

“No.”

“Liar.”

“Well, if you know what I’m doing, why are you asking me?” he returns, a scowl taking over his features which only makes James grin. Bloody idiot.

“Maybe I wanted confirmation.”

“Maybe I want you to take your confirmation and—“

“Alright,” Evan interrupts, because he’s always been able to sense when things start getting heated. “That’s enough. Barty, lay off him, yeah? If he wants to have a staring contest with his boy toy where anyone can see, that’s up to him.”

Unfortunately, Regulus looks away to glare at Evan as he whacks him on the arm, only to groan a second later when he realises what he has just done.

Metres away, James’ grin is taking on a triumphant hue.

“I hate you both,” he declares, standing to make a dramatic exit. Why, of all things, did he have to inherit that from Sirius? “And he is not my boy toy.”

He stomps off to sarcastic murmurs of ‘mhm, sure,’ and ‘whatever you say, Reggie,’ which is the reason for him rolling his eyes and almost barging right into a seventh-year.

“Some things really don’t change, huh Reggie?” James murmurs as they continue to stare, bringing him back to the present.

He snorts. “No, apparently not. I must’ve told you a thousand times to drop that ridiculous nickname, and yet you’re just as stubborn as you were at fifteen.”

“Says the one in a staring contest with me,” he quips back.

“Compared to you, I’m a complete pushover, darling.”

“Then look away, love.”

The emphasis hits Regulus as he realises what he has just said. He has been against terms of endearment since the beginning of their first relationship— especially after the honey-sweetheart-dear-baby massacre—but that one. Oh, that one. He’ll never get over that one.

The thing is, there was a nickname that Regulus used to use with James; but after the last occasion on which it was used, he isn’t sure if he ever wants to bring it up again. God, late-teenage Regulus really had a flair for the dramatics, didn’t he?

Well, it makes sense, when you think about who his brother is.

*

Peter

Peter returns to the Potters just in time for dinner—he had practically vowed to Effie that he wouldn’t miss it—to find that a shocking amount has changed in the few hours he has been gone.

First of all, there are four new guests, which—he’ll get to that in a minute. Rather oddly, what surprises him most is the sudden progress that Regulus and Sirius appear to have made. They’re talking and chuckling in a corner, ‘occasionally’ (which really means every other second) glancing at their respective partners as if they can’t help themselves. He knows that they’re brothers and all, but sometimes it perplexes him just how similar they are. And he’s supposed to be the smart one.

As for the newest additions to the house, Peter has no clue who called them or why they are here, but he immediately strikes up a conversation with Pandora whom he used to share gossip with on a daily basis, back at school. They knew everything about everyone, and refused to share information with others simply because. He finds that he’s missed her more than he had realised.

Next, there’s Emmeline. He’s almost certain that there is something going on between her and Pandora, but he suspects that that information will come out in due course, so he decides to leave it be for the time being. They have conversed before, and he finds it rather easy to pick up right where they left off in a sense, but she’s always been like that, really.

And finally, are the apparent newlyweds and parents, Barty and Evan, and their daughter, Dora. Peter hasn’t interacted with them too much in the past, seeing as their only main connection had been Regulus, but he instantly feels a sense of familiarity with them, and understands that they’re rather… fun to hang out with within the first fifteen minutes of doing so.

This idea is expanded upon when they all head upstairs after dinner—agreeing to meet in James’ room—and half of the room begins clamouring to play games. They even suggest things such as spin the bottle, as though they couldn’t care less about their respective husband kissing someone else, especially now that their daughter has been placed in her guest bed and fallen asleep too. Then again, practically the entire room agrees to it and everyone is quite attached to one another in romantic ways except for Peter.

Anyway, that’s how they end up forming a wonky circle of sorts in the middle of James’ room with a glass bottle in the centre of them all. The game is fairly slow at first: Remus spins and lands on Mary which is quite amusing to watch as the two make a show out of it, likely to spite their partners, though it’s just a quick little peck in the end. Peter thinks he sees smoke coming out of Sirius’ ears.

After that, it’s fairly normal; Marlene spins and, to her delight, lands on Dorcas which they both take as an opportunity to draw out the kiss for as long as it takes for the rest of the room to boo them apart. Lily goes next and gets Emmeline—just like Remus and Mary, it’s a short-lived, brief touch of lips—then Sirius spins and happens to land on Regulus of all people, but he is granted a respin from the rest of the room which proceeds to land on James. Peter and Pandora cackle from where they sit next to each other, finding it absolutely hilarious that he not only landed on his biological brother, but also his honorary brother. Sirius, James, and Regulus, meanwhile, look downright horrified.

“This has to be against the rules somehow,” Sirius protests with an expression of disgust. “We’re practically brothers!”

“But not biological,” Peter and Pandora sing-song together, having far too much fun at the moment while everyone else begins to snicker between each other.

“I can’t watch this,” Regulus declares, dramatically throwing his head onto his arms which are resting on his folded-up legs.

“Can’t— do we have to?” James asks, as though begging for a saviour to rescue him from this awful fate.

“It’s the rules, Potter,” Lily puts in, apparently enjoying herself too now. “You’re not a cheater, are you?”

James bristles at this, almost offended at the mere implication. “Of course not, but it’s like incest.”

“James, how is it incest to kiss Sirius but not his brother?” Remus inputs, exasperated. And it’s his boyfriend being kissed here.

“I haven’t kissed Regulus though,” James murmurs confusedly, only for a pointed cough and not-so-silent mutter of ‘teen years’ from Sirius to cause his eyes to widen. “Ah. Right.”

When this clearly does not earn him any more support, he seems to deflate resignedly, like he’s realised that there is no escaping this. Peter only continues having the time of his life.

“Well, but— just because they’re brothers, doesn’t mean I have to feel related to both or none,” he protests, but the words have no real argumentative tone behind them. He’s aware that he’s lost now.

“It would help if you had a type,” Barty muses thoughtfully, glancing between the two Black brothers when Regulus beside him elbows him harshly, scowling. “What? You do look alike.”

“That’s got nothing to do with—“

“Ugh, come on, already,” Emmeline interjects, seemingly finished with their stalling. “Guys, we all know that it won’t be the first time you’ve ever kissed, just do it.”

The two of them take a simultaneous desperate glance around at the rest of them as though they are hoping for an unlikely saviour; when one doesn’t make themself apparent, they sigh resignedly and turn to each other.

The kiss—if it can even be called one—is so brief that a mere blink of the eyes would cause you to miss it. However, the both of them make such gagging noises afterwards that everyone agrees to never force them into such a thing ever again. Pete is rather indifferent on the subject, it’s quite amusing to watch two of his best friends act like the children they used to be every one and again, but doesn’t object at the final decision.

The next game: never have I ever, promptly leads to shit (in a good way, if that makes sense) for some people. It’s a simple game, if you’ve done the action in the past, take a swig or a shot or whatever, they have a collection of drinks in the middle of the circle.

It begins completely normal. Never have I ever gotten so drunk that I thought I was a dog—Peter says this one purely to spite Sirius—never have I ever had a crush on Remus (Pandora says this to get the drinks flowing, because of course she does) to which everyone but Remus drinks. Then, as the alcohol kicks in, people start to call each other out more and more often. To say the least, Peter is thriving.

And then:

“Never have I ever,” Sirius begins, slurring his words a little at this point. “Kissed four or more people in this room.”

Immediately, James and Peter reach forward to take a glass, clinking them together before they take a huge swig each; the reactions are hilarious. Then, a beat or two later, Remus and Regulus follow suit, eyeing each other as if to ask whether they really want to do this. If only it ends there.

Simultaneously, Mary, Emmeline, and Pandora do the same, refusing to elaborate when questioned. Peter knows, but he won’t share the knowledge with anyone simply because. He isn’t Kaz Brekker, for goodness sake, trading secrets for favours.

They hang out in James’ room for quite a few hours, and it must be one or so in the morning when they finally disperse to their respective rooms. Peter takes his time getting ready and going to the loo and, around half an hour later, is just about to switch his phone off to go to sleep when he realises that he has forgotten to drink water beforehand. Groaning, he reminds himself that he’ll be grateful for this in the morning when he isn’t as hungover as he would have been and slips out of bed. As quietly as he can, he opens the door to let himself out, only when he turns away from closing it, he comes face to face with none other than Remus, who still has a grip on the bedroom door of who Peter knows to be Sirius. Well, it could be worse.

Jinxing things must be real, for as soon as the thought forms in his head, another door creaks open beside Sirius’ to let out James who only blinks at the two of them for a moment, frozen in place. Now that’s interesting.

Of course, it doesn’t end there, because next is Mary who appears next to Peter, gaze flicking from one man to the next as she must work out what is going on here. The four of them remain like statues for a few beats, before the door beside Mary and the one opposite it—next to Regulus’ which James just snuck out of—open at the exact same time to reveal Barty and Emmeline.

Peter fights the urge to sigh. This is why he doesn’t bring anyone to this house. Honestly, he’s the only one with brains in the place under the age of thirty.

Right on cue, Marlene appears at the end of the hall, looking far too pleased with herself until she notices the accidental gathering made in the corridor surrounding her. Hardly anyone makes eye contact for a minute or two, everyone too scared to move, and then, as one, they grip and turn the handles behind themselves to return back to the rooms they had just exited. It seems that everyone has a lot of explaining to do tonight.

God, they’re all disgustingly soppy and intertwined, but he wouldn’t change them for the world.

Chapter Text

Present Day: James

The following morning is… there’s no other way to put it, awkward. Now, most of the people caught sneaking around are in relationships and have been for a while; but James and Mary? Well, they have some explaining to do, to say the least.

The thing is, James needs to get to Sirius before someone else does, because he is very aware of how the events of last night sound from everyone else’s perspective, and they couldn’t be more wrong. Sure, he’s forgiven Regulus seeing as he hadn’t done anything wrong in the first place, but they’re taking it slow. And it’s only been a month since the wedding, anyway.

Only he can’t help but be curious as to whether Lily and Mary were…

No. That’s none of his business. It’s not as though Mary questioned him about the ordeal, and nor has anyone else, so he just has to ensure that a certain someone won’t find out; and if he does, that he is told about the true happenings and not inferences made by others.

But first:

“Remus,” he murmurs, walking over to grab a plate so as not to seem suspicious. “Can I talk to you?”

The man doesn’t even bother to look at him as he follows suit and replies, “I’m not going to tell him, James. What you two do behind closed doors is your own business, just like everyone else. You don’t need to—“

“I— what? No,” he blurts, confused. “No, that— Moony, there’s nothing to tell . Seriously. We just talked and kissed a little, it’s not what you think, trust me. I just didn’t want him hearing it from someone who thought otherwise, that’s all. You know how protective he can be.”

“Of you, or Regulus?”

And isn’t that the million dollar question?

Remus only exhales in an amused tone and pats him on the shoulder. “Yeah, I know, Prongs.”

After that particular conversation, James is feeling a lot lighter for the rest of the day; at least until Sirius asks to talk to him with an odd expression, that is. That’s when his stomach proceeds to drop . Mainly because James and Sirius have only had four serious conversations before: Sirius coming out to him and telling him that he’s in love with Remus, James coming out to Sirius, after Sirius had found out about James and Regulus, and following the whole it-was-only-supposed-to-be-a-joke thing with Sirius and Remus in year eleven. That’s it. So it’s not his fault at all, really, when he begins fidgeting nervously as he follows Sirius to his room upstairs and avoids eye contact at all costs. If this were a sit-com, crickets would be chirping right about now.

Eventually, when the older man makes no indication to start talking, James does it for him.

“So…” he begins slowly, confused and rather terrified, if he’s honest. Of course, Sirius would never do anything to physically hurt him, but the fear remains present all the same. “What did you want to talk about?”

It’s a miracle that James doesn’t choke on air when Sirius casually replies, “Regulus.”

Continuously telling himself to remain calm, James clears his throat and, with an attempted nonchalant air, asks, “What about him?”

Just then, Sirius proceeds to simply burst into laughter; he means struggling to breathe, bending over to rest his hands on his knees to support himself and everything. Poor James can only stand there and watch him with slight worry for his mental sanity.

“Sorry—“ he chokes out, breathless. “I— Prongs, I’m not going to kill you, you know. I didn’t do it the first time, and I’m not about to do it now that we’re all more responsible.”

When the only response to this is a raised eyebrow, Sirius rolls his eyes and begrudgingly corrects, “Fine, now that some of us are more responsible.”

James’ eyebrow remains halfway up his forehead, but it appears that Sirius is not bothered to play this game for long.

“Anyway,” he starts, clapping his hands together like a businessman kicking off a staff meeting. “I’ve called you here today, not to kill you, but to threaten you.”

James is almost absolutely certain that he has heard wrong. “Sorry?”

Sirius’ lips twitch but he has the courtesy to not laugh raucously in James’ face again.

“I didn’t do this the first time around, because Regulus and I weren’t too close back then. Heaven knows what we are now, but that is my baby brother, Prongs. I know that you’re a literal angel, but if you hurt him in any way, I will slit your throat as you sleep.”

James couldn’t make it more obvious that he doesn’t think his next words through in the least .

“Are you— kidding? Padfoot, he has me wrapped around every single finger, plus his toes. If he were to ask me to jump out a window, I’d probably do it without consideration. Me? Hurt Regulus? Me? Hurt anyone? Really?”

“Yeah, I know you’d never do anything on purpose, but this is a just-in-case situation. Think of it as my duty as an older brother.”

James crosses his arms. “And what about your duty as my best friend?”

Right on cue, there is a knock on the door followed by the doorknob turning to reveal Regulus who looks extremely confused that he has had to walk in on a conversation between the two of them for whatever reason. Admittedly, James is also rather bemused at his appearance until Sirius grins.

“Prongs, do you mind?” he says mischievously, tilting his head towards the door to indicate that James should leave. “I’ve got best friend duties to attend to.”

It takes everything in him not to crack up laughing because Regulus will simply leave if he grows too suspicious of the situation and James really wants to eavesdrop on this particular conversation. So, offering the younger man a hopefully comforting smile, he walks right past him and out of the door, speeding up when Regulus opens his mouth as though to form the beginnings of a question. Then, he proceeds to close the door and presses his ear against it, straining to hear what the brothers are discussing. It is safe to say that it does not go how he is expecting.

“What is this, another prank of yours?” comes Regulus’ tired voice. “I thought you’d have grown out of that by now.”

“No to both of those,” that’s Sirius, obviously. “I called you here to talk to you. About James.”

A sigh. “Really, Sirius? We’ve been through this, I would never—“

“No; no, that’s not what I meant,” he interrupts quickly, clearly sensing the audible frustration in his younger brother’s tone. “I’m not here to ask you not to hurt him, or to threaten you like I did him, I—“

“You did what? ” is the incredulous response. “ You threatened James? For my sake? Sirius, he’s the most noble, trustworthy person either of us have ever known, and don’t go lying to me now to prove your point.”

It takes James a moment to register the fact that he is grinning—rather widely, one might add—and even then he finds it quite difficult to stop. Adjusting his position to better hear them, he attempts to smooth his features as he concentrates on their words.

“No, I’m not going to lie to you, I know all of that. In fact, I told him so to his face; called him a literal angel, but that’s not the point here.”

“And what would that be?”

There is a pause in which James pushes himself even closer to the door in case he misses the next bit and Sirius sighs as if this is taking some pure strength from him to say this.

“I know I wasn’t… great, at the beginning,” he admits rather uncomfortably from tone alone. “And this might make me a bit of a hypocrite but please, for all of our sakes, just be happy. Do whatever makes the both of you happy. No funny business in front of me, but anything else you want to do, go for it. Take an impulsive trip to the beach, climb to the roof at night and watch the stars together, just be happy. Make up for the time you’ve lost and more. That’s all I want from you.”

James is left absolutely speechless by this, and apparently so is Regulus for no reply is heard for a long, long time. James feels ready to cry, what the fuck, Sirius can’t do that. He isn’t sure whether he should be more angry about the fact that he got threatened while Regulus got the sweetest request made through the history of the planet, but he is most definitely incapable of doing anything but making half-hearted attempts at preventing himself from crying for the time being.

“You—“ Regulus pauses, his voice cracking as he clears his throat loudly. “Those scenarios sounded oddly specific, you know. I’d think about just why that might be if I were you.”

“Well, you’re not me, so—“

“ Sirius.”

“That’s my name.”

For a second time, Regulus sighs frustratedly and James inexplicably knows that he has just tossed his hands up in the air like he always does when he grows exasperated. It’s funny that; the way that you can spend so much time with someone, or merely the majority of your days watching them from sheer fascination at their existence to the point where you have subconsciously familiarised yourself with the smallest of their habits. And it takes moments like these, when you can’t seem to stay away even though you must, that you understand just how much you’ve become aware of about a person without even meaning to.

It isn’t surprising, really, that even after so many years, James has every little detail about Regulus memorised. He still remembers the way the boy he used to be would drink his coffee, the way the corners of his mouth would often quirk upwards while he was reading and he would remain none the wiser to it, the way that he would intently study every rugby match which he wasn’t taking part in to take inventory of each player’s abilities for future reference. He remembers all these things and more, but most of them won’t come to mind until he truly requires the knowledge, whether that be buying him a birthday present, or wondering where to take him on a date.

The thing is, James is so very lost in the secret ironies of life that he doesn’t notice the conversation in the room slow to a stop, nor the nearing footsteps as the brothers inside decide to make their way out. In fact, he is so lost in thought that he realises where he is a few seconds too late.

The door swings open and neither man appears even remotely surprised to see him so close to the door that once it is fully open, he becomes face to face with Regulus who had apparently opened it. No, it seems that they were always aware of or—at the very least—suspected James’ presence right outside of the room. Yet what James finds strangest is that as soon as the younger of the two brothers takes a step forward, he is grabbing him by the arm and leading him to another room.

He feels Sirius’ curious gaze burn into the back of his head but can’t do anything about it.

*

Present Day: Mary

Mary has been internally imagining banging her head against anything solid since last night. So close. She had gotten so close to fixing her relationship with Marlene once and for all, and now the woman is visibly… well… she can’t quite figure out the expression on her face.

But it’s definitely not pleased.

So, it is with the intention of resolving this issue as soon as possible that Mary asks to speak to her in private and leads the way upstairs. She is well aware that poor James has been taken by Sirius and the two are currently locked in the latter’s bedroom, likely doing something similar to what Mary is about to attempt with Marlene. She hasn’t even done anything wrong and she’s nervous.

But Marlene did always look up to McGonagall when they were growing up.

She turns to face her ex-best friend and current begrudging friend who is already watching her with an almost bored expression. Way to make it easier, Marlene.

The silence stretches, long and thick, between them as Mary silently opens and closes her mouth multiple times as she continuously changes her mind on how to begin phrasing everything she has to explain at the moment. It shouldn’t be this difficult. ‘We didn’t fuck.’ That’s all she has to say, but she feels as though Marlene isn’t the type of person to be satisfied with three, casual words. She really doesn’t learn, does she?

“Well?” she says eventually, when Mary doesn’t decide on a conversation starter. “What is it? You look so nervous, my best guess is that you’re fucking proposing right now.”

“I— what?” she blurts out, truly just caught unawares by Marlene’s humour. She never thought she’d say this, but boy, has she missed being fucked with.

Marlene huffs a quiet, amused laugh. “I’m not mad, you know.”

“You’re not?”

She shakes her head and in doing so might as well have shaken all remnants of any nerves out of Mary’s system. Well, this is good, right?

“Honestly, at first, I was a little,” Marlene admits sheepishly, her tone on the final word making it clear that it is a blatant lie. “But whatever happened in there, Lily must have been okay with it, and I trust her judgment. Even if you seem to give her brain a malfunction every time she looks at you.”

Before she can even register it, a smile is working it’s way onto her features; Marlene snorts and they simultaneously turn their heads away to hide their expressions from view.

“Are we— do you think we’ll ever be the same again?” she asks quietly, unsure of whether she genuinely wants an answer in the first place.

“Well, you spent the night with her, no doubt—“

“No,” Mary interrupts, close to laughter herself now. “I— okay, one, we didn’t shag. Two, I was actually talking about me and you.”

That catches her off guard. It’s obvious from miles away.

“Me and you?” she repeats, a little uncertain, completely ignoring the first point that Mary made which she isn’t sure how to feel about. “I… I don’t think ‘the same’ is the way to put it. Teenage Marlene never had to mourn you, for instance.”

Mary all but hangs her head as she feels a blush creep onto her face. When are they going to be able to move past this as a whole?

“But knowing that you played no part in it…” she trails off with an indecipherable expression. “We’ll get better, maybe even better than we used to be. But no, to answer your question, we won’t be the same ever again. But that doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing.”

Mary is seriously considering running across the room to hug her, though that may ruin the moment completely. She’s never been very good at making decisions, if that isn’t clear. Torn, she thanks her lucky stars when there is a knock on the door which swings open before either of them can reply.

James pokes his head in, hair even more ruffled than normal which Mary didn’t think possible, in all honesty. Is he panting? He looks like, well, like he’s been running around madly, but she can’t quite piece together just why he would have to do that in a house.

“Am I interrupting?” he asks, glancing between the two of them nervously while he seems to catch his breath.

“No,” they respond in unison.

What is it, James?” Marlene questions, suspicious, judging by the look on her face.

“We need your help,” he explains, gesturing at them to follow him, which they do, practically jogging out of the room to keep up.

“With what?” Mary calls after him to no avail.

“You’ll see!”

The women share a single, curious look before abandoning all dignity and sprinting after him like their lives depend on it; the house really is quite large.

By the time they get to James’ room, they’re about ready to pass out.

*

Present Day: Regulus

This is the one and only time that Regulus will be performing an act of kindness for his brother. One and only. James doesn’t believe him, and to be completely honest, he doesn’t much believe himself either.

But moving on…

“Alright, James, Peter, Pandora, you’re on food duty,” he declares, laying out the steps of his plan. “You two—“ he gestures to the former two afore mentioned. “—are in charge of the kitchen and cooking. Pandora, you’re on snacks, desserts, and drinks. AKA: shopping.”

The three of them nod to confirm that they understand their tasks, and Pandora looks particularly excited to have free rein.

“On second thought,” he adds, immediately sensing his mistake. “Evan, go with her. I need someone to keep an eye on her and she scares the crap out of everyone else when she wants to.”

“Who said she doesn’t scare the crap out of me?” he mutters in response.

“I don’t know, use those twin connections of yours,” he says, purely just spit-balling here. “Marlene, Emmeline, Barty, it’s up to you to find swimsuits for anyone who doesn’t have any in the house right now.” He’d never admit this out loud, but he trusts their fashion sense more than his own. “That leaves you three—“ he turns to Lily, Mary, and Dorcas. “—on planning with me. Everyone better be ready in two hours at most. The beach is a good twenty or so minutes drive from here, and it’s already past midday. Let’s go, come on!”

“Wait,” Lily interjects just as everyone moves towards the door. “The beach? We’re— oh, Reg, that’s bloody perfect!”

With no further context, she proceeds to dash out of the room at full speed, where to, Heaven only knows.

It takes yet another prompt from him for everyone to get moving again.

He sighs internally. This is going to be a long day.

*

Present Day: Lily

“Remus!” she calls, feeling like a little child as she dashes around the house madly, searching for him. “Where are— finally. ”

She hesitates slightly once she realises that she is interrupting a rather wholesome moment, but they’ll both thank her later. At sunset, to be precise.

Remus lifts his head from where he half-lies, half-sits beside Sirius on the bed, book in hand.

“What is it, Lils?” he asks, not seeming bothered or annoyed in the least by her sudden appearance which she wishes she could say for Sirius too. He’s always been quite clingy.

“I need to talk to you,” she tells him, inclining her head towards the door to make it clear what she means.

Gently, he lifts Sirius’ arm from around his waist and presses a kiss to his head before murmuring something that isn’t audible to Lily and following her out of the room.

He stands opposite her in the corridor, leaning against the wall as he awaits her explanation. They have both been waiting for the perfect moment for what feels like forever, and finally, after months, Lily thinks she has it.

“The beach,” she says without much consideration.

Remus furrows his brows in confusion, which, you know, fair . “What?”

“The rest of us are planning a trip to the beach,” she explains and watches as the light bulb practically goes ‘ding’ in his brain. “You can do it there, it’s perfect. Everyone will be there, you can wait until sunset, he’ll never expect it!”

“The beach,” he repeats slowly, indecisive as ever. “I don’t know, Lils.”

“Come on, Moony, we’ve been brainstorming for for ever,” she insists. “And a little birdie told me that he’s been wanting to take a trip to the beach lately too.”

He stares off into space, as though considering her words. “He does love the beach.”

She doesn’t say anything in response, only raises her eyebrows in optimism, and he barely lasts a minute before breaking.

“Fine,” he decides eventually, while she squeals. “I’ll do it there. Today.”

Dashing forwards, she wraps her arms around his neck, likely suffocating him, not that he complains, and pecks his cheek before proceeding to almost sprint back down the corridor in the group’s direction.

“Where are you going?” he calls after her.

“Nowhere!”

She is questioned quite a lot by the time she returns, but true to her promise, doesn’t reveal a thing about her whereabouts. It’s odd to think about it, but no one but her and Remus know that there will be another married—well, engaged really—couple once they get back from their beach trip.

Either that, or they’re going to come back with one less person because Lily will have buried Sirius beneath the sand.

*

Present Day: James

James has never been known to deal well with pressure. Well, alright, that’s not strictly true because he doesn’t usually allow people to see the moment he crumbles, but he digresses.

But the kitchen is one of the only places he’s ever been truly comfortable in the world. That and the rugby field.

Ever since he was young, he’d come along and sit on a countertop to watch his mum cook, and she would flap at his legs with a tea towel as she jokingly told him to get down from there. Occasionally, she’d sneak him bits of whatever she happened to be making, be it pakora, a samosa or two, or his personal favourite, rasgulla (he’s always had quite the sweet tooth). And each time she would, he would smack his lips together and compliment it every way he knew how.

As he got into his teenage years, he began helping out around the house more and had a rapidly growing interest in cooking. Ever the romantic, James had been convinced that he wanted to sweep his future partner off of their feet with an enormous array of food which they may or may not have eaten before. Lily hadn’t, and neither had Regulus. But they have both introduced him to foods and drinks from other cultures, just like he and his mum have them.

As for Peter, his current sous-chef, he was an absolutely dreadful cook when James first decided to attempt making something with him. In his defence, they were fifteen, but it’s lucky that James was there to help him along. 

Now, he’s… rather good at it. James would never admit this aloud, but Peter’s dosas are better than his by miles , he’s just never been able to master them the way his mum and Peter have. 

Anyway, back to the present. Seeing as they will be out of the house until as late as can be, James and Peter must prepare enough food for dinner for twelve people; otherwise known as the most either of them have ever had to make. But they’ve always loved challenges. So, as they say, there’s only one place to start and that’s the beginning.

Or however the saying goes.

“Alright,” James begins, clapping his hands together which makes him feel quite like his dad, if he’s honest. “We need to make stuff that won’t taste bad once cold, or just something that doesn’t need cooking at all; the food will be sitting out or in the mini-fridge for a few hours. Thoughts?”

Peter drums his fingers on the counter, thinking, while James flips through his mental cookbook in search of the perfect food. It takes about a minute before they both snap their heads up to look at each other.

Simultaneously, they grin, moving in opposite directions to get to the necessary cupboards. There isn’t much time, but James believes that they can just about make it. And it’ll be worth it to have everyone have options they’ll like for certain, too.

Besides, as someone who gets stressed rather easily, Regulus is going to kill him if he isn’t quick enough in the end, so he’ll have a thirty minute warning if they do move too slowly.

*

Two hours later, James is feeling rather overwhelmed with all of the watching he has to do in case something burns or goes wrong, when he receives an unexpected yet rather pleasant—and comically accidental—surprise. This is how it happens:

His eyes repeatedly flick between multiple foods, attempting to keep everything under control (ironic) whilst Peter peeks through the oven door and then continues with his previous task opposite him. Not very different from the last couple of hours. But then…

Then, a rather flustered Regulus practically trips into the kitchen, likely to see what they’re up to and check on how they’re doing compared to time, and is clearly so utterly focused on this that he doesn’t think through the words tumbling out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“James, mon amour, have you—“ he abruptly closes his mouth, eyes widening as he appears to realise just what he blurted out.

“James, my love, have you—“…

James, meanwhile, proceeds to lose it internally. All of a sudden, he’s sixteen again, being told that it was all a lie, yet he’s simultaneously fourteen, experiencing those same heart flutters each time he hears those incomprehensible words fall out of Regulus’ mouth effortlessly, like second nature, which makes sense when you think about it.

The two of them remain frozen in position, as does Peter who clearly senses something shift in the atmosphere because he pauses his current task—grating cucumber—to slowly look up. Placing the grater and cucumber carefully on the counter, he backs away until he is out of the kitchen, all while mumbling, “Okay, tension, get a room, jeez.”

The actions and words are barely noticeable from where James is, for nothing exists to him outside of the man currently standing at the doorway, watching him with an almost fearful expression as he opens and closes his mouth without making a sound. He thinks he’s trying to apologise. He doesn’t understand why.

The silence in the room is deafening , yet neither of them make a move to break it. James isn’t sure he knows how to work his voice box anymore.

In all honesty, James absolutely loves when Regulus speaks French. Does he understand a word of it? Not a single one. Does it make him somehow feel like a child who believes in only good in the world? Magically, yes. As a trilingual, it doesn’t really make too much sense to him just why another language is so… you know to him. Especially when he can’t comprehend even the tiniest bit of it.

It just is.

But recalling the last occasion on which those words were used gives them a bit of a slap-like effect on him. And not in the usual good way.

It’s strange, that. There were a million and one times during which that nickname was used in good nature, and all of that is almost overpowered by a single, painful memory.

And it’s just— it’s so fucked up. They wouldn’t have to be going through this if Walburga and Orion had just done what parents are supposed to do and looked after their children properly. It’s fucked up, and the worst part is that their children have to pay the price for their mistakes, not them.

It’s fucked up. But James is not going to allow those two dreadful people to continue affecting their sons in this way when said sons deserve the whole world and more. He would give it to them if he had the ability.

So, it’s with the intention of fixing this particular problem once and for all that James makes his way over to the other side of the room and reaches to intertwine their fingers, smiling in a hopefully comforting way.

“Have I what, mera pyaar?” he murmurs, fighting back a small laugh when Regulus chokes on his next inhale.

”Have I what, my love?”…

“That’s a new one,” he whispers, watching James chuckle softly when he can’t prevent it any longer.

“I was trying something,” he jokes, reflexively mirroring the action when the corner of Regulus’ mouth rises; oh, he’s pleased. “Wait, is that… am I making the Regulus Black blush? Someone take a picture, I’m going to need proof in the near future when—“

“Shut up,” he mutters, his smile only growing as he buries his head in James’ shoulder, their fingers remaining linked together. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love it,” he murmurs back as he tips his head down to rest his chin on Regulus’ shoulder below it.

There is a beat of silence before Regulus is lifting his head to face him, his eyes darting all over James’ face like he is studying it for a test.

“I do,” he admits quietly, then huffs a small laugh, for what reason, James has not a clue. “I really do.”

And then he’s surging forwards, hands flying up to cup James’ cheeks as their lips crash together. James, meanwhile, finds this so unexpected that he goes stumbling back a few steps; luckily, the counter is there to catch him, and he grabs hold of it to right himself before placing a hand on Regulus’ back to pull him closer—always close, never close enough, that’s how he feels about them. Regulus has that effect on him. Even years later, he’s just genuinely addicting.

Once they break apart, breathing a little heavier than before, James finds himself unable to pull away any more as he whispers, “What was that for?”

The smile that tugs at the corner of Regulus’ mouth suggests that he finds this rather amusing, which James doesn’t understand really, but he’s smiling which always lights up the entire room, so he’s not about to complain.

He shrugs lightly, also remaining frozen in position as he scatters his gaze all over James’ face, and honestly? James knows the feeling of being unable to look away.

“I wanted to,” he merely informs, which makes James grin this time. “Should I not have?”

“No!” he exclaims, before immediately realising this mistake. “No, I mean no, you shouldn’t not have, I mean— yes. Whenever and wherever you want to, I highly encourage it. In fact, I’ve always encouraged it.”

Regulus laughs again, only this time it’s louder, bolder, and less controllable which James finds much more joyful to examine. The way his nose scrunches, the way his hand flies to his mouth as though to muffle the sound, the way his eyes soften when James tugs it away because that’s just absolutely ridiculous. He’d bottle up Regulus’ laugh to listen to at his leisure if he could.

And then, Regulus’ face proceeds to fall and scares the ever loving fuck out of James.

“What is it? Did something happen? Are you hurt? Reg, what—“

“No, no, I’m fine,” he interrupts quite apologetically when he realises how worked up James is getting. “I just remembered that I have a lot to do and only came here to check up on how it was going and now…”

“Now?” he prompts, rather curiously.

He sighs, allowing himself to be pulled closer again. “You’ve gone and distracted me again.”

“Oh, very distracting, am I?”

“The most.”

The genuine hint of irritation in his tone makes James snort, tipping his face forwards to rest their foreheads together.

“Says you,” he retorts once he has calmed down again.

“What does that mean?”

“Pyaar, you walked in here, called me a name you haven’t in years— not complaining, I enjoyed it,” he adds quickly at the other man’s expression. “Kissed me, again, not complaining, and had the audacity to look drop-dead gorgeous the entire time! And you say I’m distracting.”

“I’m literally in the most casual clothes you get,” he protests, gesturing at the tracksuit and hoodie he has on at the moment. “And I haven’t had time to fix my hair since I woke up, so I know it’s a downright mess. Are you sure they’ve given you the right glasses prescription?”

“One hundred percent certain,” he says, taking off his glasses and placing them on Regulus’ face before he can argue, to which he blinks violently and clearly has difficulty adjusting.

“What the fuck?” he blurts before pulling them off and staring at them—and James—incredulously. James himself just about manages to make this out from the cloudy fog that is his vision currently; he really has awful eyesight. “You’re actually blind.”

“Well, not blind, per se, I can see, just not very much without—“

“No, it’s—“ he pauses to make a scoff-like noise in the back of his throat. “You know, when I was younger, I used to think that you wore these for aesthetic purposes. Like, you weren’t actually unable to see without them, but that you looked better with them on, so—“

“Hold on,” James interrupts, catching onto a particular piece of information that he wants to tease about before they move on. “You were thinking about the different ways I looked good and it still took you so long to figure out that you liked me?”

Regulus proceeds to open and close his mouth without making a single sound, and slowly turning red.

“Wait, how long did you fancy me before we… you know?” James asks.

“There is no way I’m answering that question without being so drunk I can’t remember my own name.”

“Why not?”

“It’s humiliating. You and my brother will never drop it.”

“I won’t tell him. Come on, Reggie, please!”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“ No.”

“With a cherry on top?”

He huffs annoyedly and rolls his eyes before placing either hand on James’ face again and, looking directly into his eyes, says, “James, mon amour, light of my life, you will find out this information when I’m dead.”

James really wants to be frustrated with this outcome, but finds it quite difficult when Regulus is so close.

And then Regulus is stepping away, looking at him in a way that sums up exactly how James is feeling at the moment: the desire to be annoyed is there, but they’re just unable to follow through on it.

“You did it again!” he accuses.

“Did what?” James asks rather nervously, genuinely confused now.

“Distracted me, of course.”

“How about we agree that it was a joint effort?”

“Never. I never take blame for anything. Innocent until proven guilty and all that.”

James wants to reach for him again, always wanting him as close as possible, but he knows that Regulus really does want to get a move on with everything required for the beach trip and he doesn’t want to keep him from that for so long that he gets genuinely frustrated.

Luckily for him, he doesn’t have to do anything, for that is when Peter apparently gets bored of waiting outside.

“Are you two done eye-fucking—or actually fucking—each other yet?” he calls from the other side of the closed door.

They chuckle and Regulus moves to open the door for him, exiting himself—presumably before he can succumb to any more ‘distractions.’

Peter studies the two of them intently, as if he’s expecting for their clothes to be on the wrong way or something, and James turns away to laugh more freely.

He watches Regulus walk away until he is no longer visible.

*

Present Day: Mary

Mary is well aware that she qualifies as what people would call a ‘simp.’ Dorcas has done well on reminding her of this fact every minute of every hour since Regulus left them to ‘go check on everyone else,’ which is code for ‘make out with James.’ They all know it; it’s not like he tried particularly hard to hide it. Peter and James are the only others currently in the house that are part of the plan—Pandora and Evan are out shopping for food, and Marlene, Barty, and Emmeline are out swimsuit shopping. Remus, Sirius, and James’ parents aren’t aware of the plan, as far as she knows.

Anyway, their job has been to take care of the in-betweens. The little things. Possible activities to do (so far they have volleyball, badminton, frisbee, drowning Sirius, and playing music—Lily had been rather adamant about that one for some reason unknown to the others), towels and chairs, et cetera, et cetera. 

And during all of this, Mary has been shamelessly appreciating her girlfriend because, well, that’s a right she has, isn’t it? Just look at her. The woman deserves every bit of appreciation every human on this Earth can muster and more, yet here she sits, choosing to be Mary’s and Mary’s only.

How she got so lucky, she’ll never know.

But honestly, she wouldn’t mind having a little alone time at the moment, because as much as she loves Dorcas, she can be truly insufferable when she wants to. And, you know, Mary would like to be a little more affectionate than she can be currently, and doing so in front of Dorcas will only earn vomit noises, ‘get a room’s, or audibly disgusted ‘aw’s. She suddenly gets just how perfect Marlene and Dorcas are for each other.

So, it is with the amount of suffering she has silently endured all day that she takes Lily by the hand and leads her to the middle of the ocean—or as close as they can get without drowning—as soon as they arrive at the beach. They ditch the others purely because Mary feels like it, and she finds that she’s very grateful for it as they laugh and dance and splash each other in total peace. For about ten or so minutes.

And then James and Sirius are grabbing them by the waists and dragging them under the water, bringing them back up right afterwards to laugh their hearts out at the sight of the both of them gasping from the unforeseen action. This is followed by Lily and Mary, in turn, attempting to throw them into the water, and somehow Marlene, Remus, Barty, and Emmeline get mixed into the fray once they have joined them. The others hang out a metre or two away, in their own world, when most of the more chaotic group decide that their respective partners can’t miss out on their energy and dive right for them. In the end, Regulus almost ends up drowning because both James and Sirius decide it’ll be funny to mess with him, Pandora uses Evan as protection and gets them both dumped under the surface, and Dorcas takes on Marlene, Peter, and Lily, before she—with a small scream—gives in and sinks.

Someone brings the frisbee, and then they’re throwing it back and forth in a large circle in the middle of the sea, calling to each other and laughing until their stomachs hurt. It’s the most fun Mary has ever had, and she will never admit it to anyone; ever. Not even Lily.

They’re out there for a couple of hours when Mary takes Lily by the hand again and sneaks back to land with her where they squash onto a single lounger and just… hang out. It’s truly innocent and amazing, simply because of the company.

At one point, Mary is just watching her as she talks about a book she read recently, purely fascinated by her mere existence and place in her life, when Lily stops to look at her curiously.

“What is it?” she asks genuinely.

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “I’m just watching you.”

“Yeah, but you’re looking at me like— like the day I figured out that Sirius was in love with Remus back in fourth year,” she adds thoughtfully, making Mary snort.

“Darling, if you don’t know how far and hard I’ve fallen for you yet, I think we need to get you examined.”

That earns her a mock squint and a pinch on the waist to which she shrieks her head off far more than necessary. And then they’re laughing and attempting to throw each other off onto the sand; at one point, Lily has full-on just clambered onto her lap which is annoyingly distracting in itself, but as she tries to get rid of Mary’s grip on her forearms, she leans in closer which shatters Mary’s concentration on everything but her lips like an egg being dropped off a second floor balcony.

Lily, being evil as she is, visibly reads her mind in an instance, judging by her amused expression, and does absolutely nothing to ease her painful self-control methods. 

“Stop that,” Mary murmurs as their faces inch closer and closer.

“Stop what?” she mutters right back, seemingly innocent.

“You know what.”

Lily hums in agreement. “Not like you mind.”

“I wouldn’t mind if there were no people around,” she quips. “And I could actually do something about it.”

Lily’s grin only widens, taking on that mischievous hue that Mary has grown to love. “That’s the fun of it.”

Mary is just leaning forwards, her only thought being ‘fuck it,’ when the banes of her existence pop out of nowhere.

Marlene, Emmeline, and James let out simultaneous wolf-whistles, wearing matching grins like Dorcas’, while Sirius whoops with an arm around Remus’ waist and Peter, Remus, and Regulus give them apologetic looks for the interruption. Barty, Evan, and Pandora are thankfully still in the water.

Rolling her eyes with a small smile, Lily clambers down from her lap and proceeds to grab a handful of sand from the ground and chucks it at the group. Sirius, Marlene, Dorcas, and James then splutter and complain annoyedly, and move towards Lily when she squeals and sprints towards the sea at full speed. None of them seem to have the energy to follow her.

“So, MacDonald…” Emmeline begins slowly as she takes a seat on the lounger beside Mary, grinning at her with a knowing look.

“Say Vance, do you remember yesterday when—“

“Alright, alright!” she interrupts, all hints of mischief evaporating on the spot. “Truce?”

“I have all of the leverage but fine,” Mary agrees begrudgingly.

While Emmeline grins in relief, Sirius sneaks behind Mary to yank the towel out from right under her, spraying her with water droplets while he’s at it, because his hair is purely soaking. She shrieks at him, but it doesn’t do much to bother him as he wraps it around himself. Prick.

It’s a couple of hours later, around dinner time, that James, Peter, Pandora, and Evan go to collect the food from where they have left it all and the others proceed to blink very confusedly. Either they were made aware of the plans before everyone else, or they work at the speed of light, because the colossal amount of food that has been prepared is the work of miracles.

“James, Peter…” Regulus begins slowly, looking around at all of the food the two men have spread around like a picnic. “I said enough for twelve people, not a whole army .”

They grin sheepishly, sharing glances as everyone moves towards the food for easy reach. As Mary gets a closer look, she understands why; oh, these idiots, they would do something like this.

They’ve prepared at least one food per cuisine of each person’s nationality: Indian for James, Argentinian for Marlene, French for Sirius, Regulus, and Barty, Turkish for Lily, Filipino for Peter, Ethiopian for Dorcas, Finnish for Mary, Welsh for Remus, Italian for Evan and Pandora, and Japanese for Emmeline. It’s mental.

“No way!” Marlene says, reaching to grab a large container of something invisible to Mary and opening the lid before smiling up at her two childhood best friends. “Is this Abuela’s recipe?”

“The very same,” Peter replies, pleased.

“I haven’t had proper onigiri in forever,” Emmeline groans with her mouth half-full.

“Evan!” Pandora yelps suddenly, pointing at one of the many containers strewn on the towel. Her brother reaches for it and, grinning, offers the box to her before taking some kind of pastry out of it himself.

“Childhood favourite,” he murmurs to her, the both of them likely reminiscing.

“Makes sense; you’re still a child.”

He jokingly elbows her.

“Holy shit, this is better than my mum’s,” Lily admits with a hand hovering in front of her mouth as she chews. She then pauses to look at the sky almost fearfully, as though her mum is there. “Sorry, anne.”

“Sorry, mum.”

Mary herself loses concentration on everyone else’s excitement to take the container that James is holding out for her and grab a lihapiirakka—in short, pastry stuffed with rice and minced beef—before finding it suddenly quite difficult to swallow. Because she hasn’t had this since she was a child, possibly early teens. And that was back when everything was simple and well and good. She misses it so much, but she’s also extremely grateful to be where she is now, with who she is now.

Yet the main problem with losing something like that so early on is that you tend to mourn it for much longer than you’d ever anticipate.

After everyone is full to the brim and the remaining food has been cleared away, as promised to Lily, Sirius gets his guitar out. By this time, the sun is slowly beginning to set, and some of them take to crowding onto the loungers while others simply sit or lie beside each other on towels on the sand. Mary is sat beside the lounger currently occupied by James and Regulus, resting her back against it, opposite Sirius’ who keeps shooting them warning looks through his playing and singing as though to say ‘don’t even think about it,’ while Lily takes a seat beside her, head on her shoulder. She isn’t completely sure when, but at some point, Mary realises that her head is resting on Lily’s.

The sky is a gorgeous pinkish-red when Lily begins clamouring for him to play some Taylor Swift as she usually does when someone starts to play their respective instrument. Sirius sighs dramatically and agrees to one song, and one song only.

“Remus!” Lily complains pleadingly. “Control your boyfriend!”

The man only shrugs smilingly, likely aware of how he has the older Black brother wrapped around his finger yet unwilling to use it to Lily’s advantage.

“You’re lucky I love you,” Lily grumbles eventually, looking at Remus when she says the words which befuddles Mary a little, she thinks Sirius would make more sense, but oh well.

No one lasts past the first chorus of Love Story before they’re all singing along, some quieter than others, some only mouthing the words, but the pure joy and peace of the moment is just unmatchable. Barty pretends to serenade Evan, Marlene has dragged Dorcas up to dance with her as they sing, Pandora and Emmeline are looking sickeningly sweet on the lounger they’re sharing at the moment, James is whispering to Regulus, likely because of his Sirius fear, Peter adds a small drumming sound in the background , and Lily and Mary sing their hearts out to each other, fingers intertwined, partly for dramatics and partly because they know what it feels like to be alone and miss the person you used to be with and wonder if you’ll ever reunite again.

But nothing beats the look on Sirius’ face when, during the lyrics ‘he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring,’ Remus does just that, lowering himself to the sand as he reveals a box, presumably with a ring inside.

Marlene shrieks in shock but is cut off by Dorcas slapping a hand over her mouth, clearly not wanting to ruin the moment, James sounds like he’s going to cry as he rambles in one of his languages, and everyone else is simply frozen in place with variations of surprise on their faces. One look at Lily’s face and Mary knows all too well that she has known about this for at least the whole day, because all she can see there is joy and excitement—no shock at all.

Remus clears his throat, and when his voice comes out next it sounds a little husky. “Marry me, Sirius, you’ll never have to be alone; I love you and that’s all I really know. I talked to the Potters, go pick out an outfit, it’s a love story, baby just say yes.”

Poor Sirius looks completely dumbfounded, his brain clearly blank as he attempts to register what is going on; his mouth hangs open slightly with the guitar held limply in one hand as he watches his— boyfriend? Fiancé? They’re technically not engaged just yet, but they may as well be, because no way is Sirius Black denying Remus Lupin what he wants, especially when the desired thing here is him.

“Okay, here goes,” Remus mumbles, inhaling before his back straightens a little. “Sirius, I’ve been in love with you for as long as I can remember. I think some part of eleven-year-old me saw you and immediately knew, in that moment, just how special you were, and when you walked into my train compartment, accidentally, I might add, I just— froze. My breath caught that very second, and ever since then it’s like I’ve been unable to breathe the same way because even now, I’m still so shocked by and yet grateful for your presence in my life. I’ll never know what I did to deserve you, but you can bet I’ve been and always will be thanking my lucky stars for every day that I get to have you. So, Sirius Orion Black, the stars to my moon, will you do me the honour of promising to stay until death forces otherwise?”

The scene is silent. Apart from the gentle crashing of the waves, and the quiet whistling of the breeze, nothing can be heard at all. Particularly because no one is mad enough to stay at the beach until the sun quite literally sets as they are.

And then, Sirius releases a short, punched-out exhale, tears welling in his eyes.

“Are you serious right now?” he whispers, staring with wide, watery eyes.

“No, I’m Remus,” he replies, grinning.

“Remus.” His voice is trembling, dangerously close to breaking, and honestly? Mary knows the feeling.

Remus sighs softly, adjusting himself as he places the ring box beside Sirius on the lounger and takes the man’s hands into his own.

“Yes, I’m serious,” he reinforces quietly. “But you don’t have to say yes. You don’t have to say or do anything until you’re ready. I’ll be with you even if you say no, if that’s what you’d like. Fuck, I— I’m prepared to give you whatever you want, darling, so name it. Anything at all.”

“God, you’re fucking insane,” Sirius breathes, leaning forwards suddenly as he takes the other man’s face in his hands and, well, there isn’t much of an alternative way to put it, snogs the living daylights out of him.

Mary whistles, as do Marlene, James, Peter, and Emmeline; when they part, they’re both blushing a deep red.

“Is that a yes?”

“Of course it’s a yes, idiot, I’m not that stupid,” Sirius chastises, going in for another kiss before Remus picks the ring box back up to thread it onto his finger.

After that, it’s just a blur of whoops and cheers and congratulations, which is not quietened when Lily proceeds to pull out a couple bottles of alcohol and begins pouring it out for everyone with no regard whatsoever. This doesn’t go as quickly downhill as Mary had been expecting, seeing as James and Dorcas—the resident drivers—don’t drink too much because of their roles, but the rest of them get rather tipsy.

This is how she finds out that when intoxicated, Marlene, Sirius, and Barty get almost unbearably loud, while Pandora and Regulus grow increasingly clingy, much to Emmeline and James’ respective amusement, Peter begins rambling about something or other, and she genuinely can’t tell whether he’s angry or just passionate about the subject, Evan and Remus tend to sit in a corner and watch their respective partners, smiling to themselves, while Lily announces just how much she loves all of them over and over again.

“Hey Mare?” she says at one point, slurring her words slightly.

“Yeah?”

“I love you, you know.”

“I know. Me too.”

“You love yourself too?”

Mary giggles, brain not functioning as it should be. “No, I— well, yes, I do, but I meant I love you too.”

She doesn’t quite comprehend that conversation until the next morning when she awakes in her bed at the Potters’ with a throbbing headache and only one thought running through her mind:

Oh. Oh, I fucked up.

Chapter Text

Lily

Lily awakes the next morning to feel an odd sense of deja vu as she returns to her month-old routine of avoiding Mary at all costs. Literally. She peeks before rounding corners, she tiptoes down the stairs as quietly as possible, she insists on eating meals either alone in her room or as quickly as she can manage without choking. It’s awkward, but she can’t quite bring herself to confront the woman until she has her speech planned down to the very last word.

It definitely doesn’t stem from her severe confrontational problems.

The thing is, Lily hadn’t even been that drunk when… the incident had happened. Alright, she does get quite sappy when intoxicated in the slightest, but she’s almost absolutely certain that all the alcohol did yesterday was knock down her judgment like a bulldozer versus a brick wall.

Does Lily love Mary? Yes, without a doubt. And while sober, she is perfectly fine with admitting that to herself. But would she simply walk up to her to inform her of this fact like she had done barely twenty hours ago?

The mere thought makes her nauseous from nerves.

Groaning, she repeatedly hits her head with the book she has been attempting to read in a pointless, half-hearted distraction method. What is she going to do? They were both drunk, but just because Lily remembers it all, that doesn’t have to mean Mary does too. And if she does, what if she wants to pretend it never happened? Should Lily stand up for her words, her feelings, or simply go along with it?

Why is being in an adult relationship so hard?

Knock, knock, knock.

Sitting up suddenly, Lily feels her heartbeat increase thrice in speed as her eyes widen, her brain a whir while she tries to figure out what to do. Oh, she’s here, at her door, what now? She isn’t ready yet, she was supposed to have a speech prepared, she—

“Lily?” calls Regulus’ voice, flooding her with relief. “Can I come in?”

Exhaling as her eyes flutter closed for a moment so she can return to her regular respiratory and vascular patterns, she drags herself off of the bed and moves to open the door and let him in.

“Jeez, Reg, you scared the shit out of me,” she complains before she can think better of it.

“Why’s that?” he returns simply, expression making it clear he is very aware that something is up. Well, it likely hasn’t been too difficult to realise what with Lily’s awful avoidance skills.

She opens and closes her mouth soundlessly before locking the door shut and silently gesturing towards the bed, sitting opposite him once he takes a seat there.

Swallowing, she crosses her legs and runs a hand through her hair as she huffs out a breath, her cheeks puffing out. This isn’t going to be easy; she hasn’t even told Marlene about this yet.

“I did something yesterday,” she begins slowly, considering her words carefully as she does. “Something—well—it’s not exactly bad , but I’m not sure how to feel about it.”

“Is this why you’ve been avoiding Mary all day?”

Bluntness. She almost smiles at it, she really does appreciate it a lot, and Regulus is pretty much the only person who offers it to her so often. He’s never much cared about sparing feelings, exactly, he says whatever comes to mind, whenever it does. It’s one of the reasons they immediately clicked, and it’s probably a major part of James falling for him too, now that she thinks about it. He always has enjoyed meanness more than the average person.

“Yeah. I—“ she pauses, unsure whether to continue, and if so, how. “I got quite… drunk, last night, and you know how I get with alcohol. Well, sometime near the end of the beach trip, I… I told her I love her.”

She doesn’t miss the miniscule widening of his eyes—it becomes easier to spot the more time one spends with Regulus—that reinforce her original thoughts that the events of last night are the kind that give someone a very justifiable reason to repeatedly hit their head while muttering ‘stupid, stupid, stupid’ over and over again. Great. She’s absolutely, well and truly, fucked.

“Did you actually say the words, or…?” he trails off, awaiting her answer.

“Oh, yeah,” she confirms, letting out a small, breathy chuckle. “Loud and clear. Just went: ‘Mare? I love you, you know.’” The words are a painful reminder and she grabs her pillow from behind her and buries her face in it for a moment before resurfacing. “Am I an idiot? I mean, has James said anything like that to you yet?”

The reaction after the words is enough for her to understand that no, nothing quite as extreme as that has happened between the two of them yet, which throws Lily into an even deeper pit of sheer panic.

“Wait,” she blurts, realisation dawning on her suddenly and shockingly unhelpfully. “I— I said it before James? Oh, this is bad. What do I do? I was already freaking out, but before James is like a bloody record! Oh, I’m so stupid, I’ve gone and messed it all up, what’s going to happen to us n—“

“Lily,” he interrupts calmly, which isn’t even the least of which she can say for herself. “Listen to me, this is nothing to worry about. I mean, Mary objected at your wedding because she couldn’t bear to have you marry someone else without knowing of her feelings first, and even if you had gone on to marry James, she would have been as okay with it as possible for someone who just lost the love of their life all over again. You know why? Because she loves you so much that she’d be alright with knowing you love another, as long as you’re happy. That kind of love doesn’t go away with a slightly early ‘I love you.’ If anything, those three words only added fuel to the fire, and strengthened her feelings for you. And I bet she’s over in her room right now with James, fretting over why she didn’t say it back even though she was dru—“

At this, Lily interjects, feeling extremely close to crying at the moment because, holy shit, does Regulus Black know how to give a speech.

“She did say it back though,” she pipes up, the mere encounter bringing a small smile to her face.

“You— she what?” Regulus inquires, somewhere between angry, annoyed, and confused all at once. “She said it back?”

She nods in response, perplexed at this sudden aggravation.

“Wh— then why have you spent the entire day panicking over what she thinks? It’s obvious, isn’t it? I— Christ, Evans, you’re supposed to be a smart one, and now it’s only me left, after I lost all hope in Remus last night.”

“What did Remus do?” she asks, trying and failing to recall anything supposedly stupid done by the man.

“Tie himself to Sirius for life, of course.”

She grins properly then, laughing at the pure genuineness in his voice. “Love makes us do crazy things, Reggie.”

“Mm, like hiding out in our room because we think our partner doesn’t love us even though she very clearly stated otherwise, you mean?” he quips sarcastically, receiving a pillow to the head in reply.

“She was drunk!” she protests indignantly.

“So were you,” he instantly counters, as though he has been waiting for that argument. “But you meant it, right? Judging by the several hours you’ve spent holed up in here in a panic, I’d think so, anyway.”

It takes a moment for her to truly admit it but eventually, a small whisper comes out.

“Yeah,” she tells him quietly. “I meant it.”

His expression grows somewhat sympathetic as he leans forward a little. “That’s not a bad thing, you know.”

“It just— it feels a little soon, don’t you think? I do love her, I— I’m head over heels in love with her, but it’s barely been a month. I just— don’t want us to move so quickly that we… fizzle out, or something. This is our second chance, and I really, really want to make it work; what if speed is where we go wrong?”

He only sighs, watching her for a moment. And then:

“I’m doing this once and once only,” he promises before stretching out his arms awkwardly in an invitation. “Because you so clearly need it.”

Practically jumping at the offer—Regulus Black does not give out hugs lightly—she leans over to wrap her arms around his neck, settling in beside him before he can change his mind.

“Now, I’ve been trying to be nice for the last five minutes,” he says, which is rather hard to believe if you ask Lily. “But you’re not going to understand any other way. Lily, there is no such thing as a universal perfect speed, okay? Everyone goes at their own pace, and does whatever whenever it feels right to them and no one else. Now, you two are clearly both freaking out over all of the wrong reasons, and you’re going to go to her right now and talk. You’re going to explain everything, maybe apologise for avoiding her all day, and then tell her you love her sober. Even if she isn’t ready to say it back yet, Mary isn’t stupid enough to leave you because of something like that, alright? Worst case scenario is that she takes a little longer to say it, but best case is that you’re happier than ever because you finally stopped running from your feelings. So go talk to her, Evans. Go get your girl.”

Smiling, she kisses his cheek before hopping from the bed and making her way to the door. When she reaches it, however, she pauses, hand hovering over the doorknob for a few beats before she turns back to him.

“Thanks, Reg,” she says softly.

“Anytime.”

Finally, she turns the handle and pulls the door open, only to step out and, with a hand still gripping it, call back, “Oh, and Regulus? Go talk to him.”

She’s halfway down the corridor before he can even begin to open his mouth.

*

Mary

Mary has said this before—not aloud, but it still counts—and she’ll say it again: James Potter is an angel reincarnate. It’s the only logical explanation for him being the way he is. In case this all sounds rather random, here is a recap of the last ten or so minutes:

So, Mary has been hiding out in her room pretty much for the duration of the entire day, given the events of last night constantly haunting her. It feels oddly like there has been a kind of shadow encasing her, inescapable, and it has given her a strange feeling which has settled into the pit of her stomach, refusing to leave much to the dismay of Mary’s eviction attempts.

As she was saying, she has been locked in her room for several hours on end when there comes a knock at the door that sends her into a sudden spiral of panic. She isn’t ready to talk yet, she isn’t even sure what she would say, the entire topic requires brain cells that, frankly, Mary doesn’t possess at the moment, and she’s in a rather pathetic freak out when James’ voice announces his presence outside of the door.

“Mary?” he calls quite reproachfully. “Can I come in?”

Sighing—whether from relief or fatigue, she isn’t sure—she replies, “It’s open, James.”

There is a beat of silence during which nothing happens but Mary growing slightly confused, and then:

“Er, yes, could you get the door for me, please?”

Furrowing her brows, she slowly slides out of bed and makes her way over, touching the doorknob with only a fingertip at first as though to ensure that it won’t shock or burn her, and then swings it open to find something that really shouldn’t surprise her as much as it does.

There stands James, as expected, but of course he hasn’t arrived empty handed. In one hand is what looks like the biggest cup of iced coffee to ever exist which she is rather grateful for, actually, and in the other is a bowl of ice cream—strawberry, he remembered—with a spoon protruding from it. Tucked underneath his arm is a box of fucking tissues.

Hence her point, James Potter is an angel and Mary might just steal him from Regulus.

“What’s all this?” she inquires with a smile that hides a laugh behind it. He really is an idiot, but he’s theirs.

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk—“ he glances to the cup of coffee, “—wallow—“ to the ice cream, “—or cry about it—“ he turns so the arm with the tissues underneath is better visible to her. “So I brought everything. Or I can just leave these here and go, if that’s what you’d like.”

“James, what the actual fuck?” is the first thing to come out of her mouth in response to this which, now that she thinks about it, probably isn’t the best decision. Especially when his expression falters.

“Er, what?”

“Why are you so…” she trails off, gesturing widely at him with two hands. “You?”

He blinks, a precautious smile working it’s way onto his face. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Well, it was intended as one.”

Smiling broader now, he walks right into the room and places, first the coffee and the ice cream, then the tissues on her little bedside table before turning back around to face her where she still stands at the door, closing it.

“So,” he makes an indication that she should sit, which she does. “What’s up?”

There’s no point in lying to him. There never has been. The truth will come out in the end anyway, but it’s more than that. James has always been quite… persistent and protective in the way that he loves; while he would never dare to pick a side here, he isn’t going to stop badgering either of them until he gets the full story, and it’s very clear. So, Mary doesn’t bother stalling.

“I… told Lily I love her last night,” she admits in a bit of a rush, groaning when his eyes widen in obvious shock. “I know, I know, it was stupid, but we were drunk, and I—“

“Whoa, whoa, Mare, slow down,” he chuckles, reaching for her arm to grab her attention. “This is great news, what is there to panic about? Unless she reacted badly?”

Mary’s response to this is to avoid eye contact at all costs, because she is all too aware of how much credibility she will lose when he finds out the chronological order of the happenings of last night.

“What happened?” he asks worriedly, taking it completely the wrong way.

“She… may or may not have… said it first?”

One blink. Two blinks. Three blinks. Open mouth, close mouth, silence. Look away, look back, and repeat. Yep, it’s official.

She’s broken James.

“I… don’t follow?” he says eventually, looking more confused than she’s ever seen him.

Burying her face in her hands, she grumbles before resurfacing. “James, we were drunk. It’s going to be so awkward! We’re going to have to talk about it, obviously, but what will I say? I can’t lie to her and say I don’t love her. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love her. But what if she’s not ready? We made it over the she-almost-married-someone-else hurdle, but what if this is the thing that ruins it all? I’m so fucking scared, I can’t lose her, not for a third time, and certainly not after everything we’ve been through to find each other again. I just—“ she releases a frustrated sigh. “I don’t know what to do.”

Silently, James plucks the cup of coffee from her hands, ignorant to her protests, and lowers it onto the table before turning back around to face her.

“I’ll tell you what you’re going to do,” he says, oddly bossy in a way that is rare for him, but it makes Mary smile for some reason. “You’re going to go to her, explain everything, and then tell her you meant it. Whether she can say it back yet isn’t the important thing here, Mare; it’s that Lily isn’t stupid enough to blow up something like this into a huge fight. Why would she? You haven’t done anything shameful, in fact, you’ve done the exact opposite. Love is something to be proud of, to shout from the rooftops, no matter how much it terrifies you, and you’re Mary MacDonald for goodness sake! Who could say no to you?”

She hates how infectious James’ energy is all the time, as a grin finds its way onto her face before she can comprehend it. It shows him that his words have gotten to her, that much is clear as he mirrors her expression and they jump off of the bed simultaneously to leave the room and fix this problem once and for all.

Apparently, the others had the same idea at the same time, for they bump right into each other barely halfway down the corridor.

It takes one breathless ‘hi’ from Mary for Regulus to signal to James to leave them alone, which they do, heading down the corridor together.

*

Regulus

James lasts literally until the millisecond during which the door closes shut behind them before bursting into laughter so uproarious that Mary and Lily must be able to hear it from the corridor, which defeats the whole purpose of holding it in, really.

“What’s so funny?” Regulus inquires amusedly once he has reached the stage of attempting to regain his breath.

“It just— is this how it feels to deal with me?” he replies, the only remaining trace of his laughter being a smile that he apparently can’t hold back.

“Constantly,” he returns immediately, seizing the opportunity; this only widens James’ grin, the idiot. “It’s sickening, really.”

“Mm, must be exhausting spending so much time with someone like me,” he states sarcastically.

“Truly,” Regulus agrees, to which the other man’s eyebrows rise in a way that can only say ‘oh, really?’ “I cry myself to sleep every night.”

James, being as ridiculous as he is, only begins snickering again. The disbelief in his voice is so audible that Regulus feels that he should possibly be a little offended.

“Sorry, pyaar, but you don’t get to complain anymore, especially not after the whole ‘I’m here to take back what’s mine’ thing.”

“Sorry, love, but…”

“I never said you’re not mine,” Regulus protests in return, crossing his arms and attempting not to look too amused or pleased when James’ eyebrows continue climbing higher up his forehead. “You can be a sappy idiot and be mine at the same time, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

“For someone who just called me a sappy idiot, you sure are quite possessive of me,” he points out triumphantly. “Why is that?”

“Isn’t it my role as your boyfriend to be possessive?”

Beat. “Boyfriend?”

He— oh, this idiot. Of course he said it without realising, and of course he is surprised when Regulus says it, because he hasn’t noticed yet that he has used the term on multiple occasions himself by now.

Oh, this idiot.

“Is something wrong with that?” Regulus asks, waiting for the opportunity to point out that he isn’t the first one to say it.

“No, no, of course not,” comes the immediate blur of words. “I like it.”

“James.”

But he can’t go further than that. There’s just something so happy about his expression that Regulus finds himself unable to reveal the truth. God, when did he become so… unlike himself.

As expected, James doesn’t understand, doesn’t remember. All he says is, “What is it?”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and finally decides against telling him; it isn’t too important, and it makes him happy, so why should he?

Listen, he’s been surrounded by lovey-dovey people today, alright? That can affect even unsuspecting people like him.

Shut up.

“Nothing. I—“ he cuts himself off when the glance at James’ wall of photos suddenly catches his eye. There must be hundreds of pictures pinned there, yet one in particular stands out to him. The memory is vague, but present, yet there is a question that Regulus had never gotten the answer to…

“That’s from fifth year,” he informs the air, because James already knows, of course, as he points towards the one photograph he means.

“Which one?” James inquires curiously, which, fair.

Stepping closer, Regulus carefully removes the pin poking through the top of the picture before studying it for a moment and handing it to him. It consists of eight people: James, Sirius, Remus, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas, except the slightly strange thing about it is that the boys have on an assortment of dresses and skirts, while the girls have what Regulus recognises as the boys’ school uniform. In the background is a familiar corridor belonging to Hogwarts.

“Oh, yeah, I remember this,” James chuckles eventually, running a sheepish hand through his hair. “It had been six years of slowly coming to realise what it was like for the girls compared to us at school, and it took one catcall directed in their general direction for us to propose this plan to them. They agreed right away, of course, though whether to make a point or just to see us in skirts, I still haven’t figured out.”

“To see Remus in a skirt, you mean,” he corrects, snatching the photo back to look at it himself. James takes this as an opportunity to wrap an arm around his shoulders almost all the way as his chin comes to rest on Regulus’ shoulder. They’re similar in height—Regulus is actually about an inch taller—so it doesn’t take much movement at all.

He hums in agreement. “While I can appreciate the gorgeous beauty that is our Moony, I happen to remember a certain someone being particularly flustered that week whenever he was around me.”

Eyes widening suddenly, Regulus goes stock-still, slowly reddening as he enters a spontaneous coughing fit by choking on his fucking saliva. Well, that answers the five year old question of whether he had been obvious or not.

“I have— no idea— what you’re— talking— about,” he splutters while James does nothing but laugh at his current situation.

“Mhm, sure love,” is the pleased reply. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Regulus, in turn, proceeds to step forcefully on his foot and jab him with his elbow simultaneously, triumphant when he hears a groan of pain.

Despite this, James doesn’t let go.

“So mean to me,” he mutters, the smile behind the words audible, let alone visible.

“Never heard you complain before.”

“I wasn’t complaining now.”

“Good.”

“Good.

As it turns out, sorting through and reminiscing over old photos is a rather fun activity that can last several hours.

*

Lily

Okay, well, she should break this down into small steps to make it feel less overwhelming, right? Bit by bit, that’s all.

First, Mary doesn’t seem particularly angry or annoyed despite having two reasons to choose from at the moment, which is a good sign, hopefully. The way she greets her after hours of no contact is rather promising too; it actually reminds Lily of the night she told Mary of her feelings for her after realising them herself, the way she had been caught unawares and sounded as breathless as a marathon runner.

Second is the explaining. Lily is the one who began this entire ordeal, so, logically, she should go first; but something about it is just so difficult. Every single time she opens her mouth, nothing comes out but air, and it’s genuinely frustrating. Why are feelings so stupid?

Fortunately, Lily’s type has always included recklessness.

“Did you mean it?” Mary asks, blurting out the words as though she isn’t able to hold them in any longer.

Well, this is it. The moment that can tip the scales for better or worse. Here she goes.

“I—“ she clears her throat, rather embarrassed that her voice decided to crack during one of the most important moments of her life. “Yes, I meant it. But I don’t want you to feel pressured at all, or like I— I expect something from you, because I don’t, alright? You don’t have to say it sober if you’re not ready, and I won’t ask you to, I just—“

“I love you too.”

Lily cuts herself off like she never has before, mouth slamming shut as her eyes widen in surprise. Good surprise, very, very good surprise, but surprise nonetheless.

“What?” she almost whispers.

Smiling, whether from pure serotonin or because she’s struggling to hold back a laugh, Mary reaches forward to cup either of Lily’s cheeks in her hands like she’s precious.

“I love you too, Lily Evans,” she repeats, laughing softly when Lily mirrors her grin. “Sober and drunk, now and when we’re old and grey, in this life and the next, I will always love you. And I will never, ever be so idiotic as to feel stupid to tell you so again. I’m going to tell you every morning you wake up, every night before you sleep, I’m going to shout it from the rooftops so the whole world knows, because loving you is the best thing I’ve ever done, and I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon, çiçeğim.”

“…anytime soon, my flower.”

At this, Lily begins chuckling as a few tears escape the captivity of her eyelids and trickle down her cheeks where they are swiped away by Mary’s thumbs.

“Your pronunciation is awful,” she murmurs, just to have something to say, and it makes the both of them break down into laughter. “But I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

She isn’t quite sure who leans in first, but the only memory residing within her of that afternoon is of kisses, ‘I love you’s mumbled against lips over and over again, and a whispered joke that leads to one of the best decisions of her life.

Lily pulls away just enough to put a few centimetres between their faces so that they can talk properly(ish), her arms remaining wrapped around her girlfriend’s neck.

“What?” she inquires, suddenly very aware of her heartbeat and the blood rushing around her body. It was clearly intended as a simple joke, and yet…

“I— I was just kidding,” Mary insists, her verbal blunder suggesting anything but. “I didn’t mean to—“

“We could, you know.”

Lily has never been known to be particularly reckless, especially not loudly. But this, a spur of the moment idea, and getting caught up in it, doesn’t seem so bad.

It has been over a month after all.

This time, it’s Mary that freezes in position, staring at her as if she’s gone mad. “Are you serious?”

“No, I’m Lily,” she jokes, cursing inwardly when she does; it’s all the years of surrounding herself with Sirius and James, look where it’s gotten her. They can never hear of this. It’ll be the end of her reputation.

“Lils.”

She knows that tone. It’s the one that means, ‘I’m all for kidding around, but any more and my heart might pump out of my chest in a second.’ She invented that tone.

Carefully tucking a loose strand of hair behind Mary’s ear, she whispers, “If I was?”

“I think I might go running around the house like a child on Christmas morning, screaming about it.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Want to bet on that, Evans?”

“I—“ pause. They’re really going to do this. Wow. Okay.

She doesn’t panic, doesn’t feel any kind of worry or dread about what could possibly go wrong. Because it’s Mary. So long as they have each other, there is no worst case scenario, right?

“You know what? I think I will,” she agrees, holding out a hand when Mary raises her eyebrows sceptically. “What do you say, MacDonald? Move in with me?”

Grinning indeed like a child on Christmas Day, Mary grabs her hand enthusiastically.

“You’re on,” she returns, shaking her hand before dashing out of the room despite Lily’s calls asking her where on Earth she is headed so urgently.

It takes her about two milliseconds to register the former part of their bet.

And another three for her to rush at full speed after the mad woman she’s gone and fallen for to check the damage already made.

*

James

James will never forget, for as long as he lives, the occasion during which he is making fun of a very unamused Regulus, more specifically, an old photo of him taken many years ago in which the man—then, boy—has been caught writing in his little book of poems (with flowers in between the pages too, James finds this adorable), when out of nowhere, the door flies open to reveal a breathless and madly grinning Mary.

“Lily and I are moving in together!” she announces, running to throttle them both with a hug before sprinting right out of the room again.

James blinks, slowly turning to Regulus.

“I think we should be able to take fifty percent of credit for that.”

“I concur.”

The photograph remains neglected on the desk for several hours whilst the two leave the room to check on the details of Mary’s declaration. The next time Regulus will walk into the room, he’ll find it not on the wall like the rest, but in a frame on James’ bedside table.

Chapter Text

James

Frankly, James isn’t the brightest of people at times, especially when a situation advances so speedily. Like this one. One minute, Mary is running into his room to announce that she’s moving out with Lily, and what feels like the next, they’re standing at the door with a suitcase each that Mary insists on holding for her girlfriend, clearly feeling the high of love. James feels ready to cry, whether from joy or sadness at parting, he doesn’t think anyone knows.

“I can’t believe you’re actually leaving,” he informs, oddly choked up as he practically strangles Lily.

She releases a small laugh. “You and me both. God, just over a month ago, I thought you and I were going to be together forever.”

“We will,” he promises. “Just… not in the way either of us expected. To quote my dad, ‘you’re not getting rid of me that easily, Lily Evans.’”

She gives him a kind smile when they pull apart, only to notice the Mary/Marlene interaction going on at the moment and roll her eyes fondly.

“You remember what I said?” Marlene is saying warningly, a finger protruding from her fist like a parent telling off their child.

Mary sighs. “Yes, Marlene, I promise I won’t hurt her, and if I do, I’ll chuck myself off a cliff to save you the trouble, alright?”

While James snorts, Lily wanders off to where the two women are standing, slipping an arm around the waist of her girlfriend.

“I can look after myself just fine, Marls,” she promises with a mischievous grin. “I’ll get to her before she does herself if she tries anything.”

At this, Marlene smiles proudly. “There’s the Lily Evans I know and love.”

Beside her, Dorcas clears her throat loudly. “You know that your fiancée who can leave you whenever she wants because you’re not married yet can hear you very well, right?”

“I think my fiancée loves me too much for that,” Marlene returns smugly. “Besides, need I bring up said fiancée’s very close relationship with her best friend whom I have suspected her of dating in the past, despite all denials of those allegations when brought up?”

“Yeah, well, said fiancée thinks you should stop talking now.”

“I think that said fiancée should shut me up herself.”

“Maybe she will—“

“Okay, let’s keep it PG in here, there are children present!” Mary interrupts loudly, causing everyone around her to look to their surroundings in confusion.

“What children?” Lily inquires after a moment, repeatedly looking around as though she thinks a child may be hiding somewhere without her knowledge.

“One,” she counts, pointing to James whose jaw drops indignantly. “Two,” Sirius who just shrugs in acceptance. “Three.” Peter who gives her a look .

“I am not—“ James is saying when Regulus swoops in to interject.

“Speaking as the person responsible for you, I advise that you keep your mouth shut,” he tells him, the corners of his mouth twitching.

“I thought you liked it wide op—“

“Okay, no! We’re not having any of that here!” Sirius quickly jumps in with an expression that suggests he desires nothing more than to strangle his best friend whilst watching the life ebb from his body.

Of course, Regulus takes this opportunity to mess with him further; what else are they supposed to do when in such a dynamic?

With a sly smirk, he slides his arm around James’ shoulders. “Well, he’s not exactly ly—“

“Oh, girls, I thought you were staying for dinner!” comes Effie’s voice from the living room doorway.

It’s really quite amusing, the way that everyone jumps apart the second they register her voice—not that she would care. Euphemia Potter is the kind of person who could walk into a room with two people shagging and still do whatever she entered it for before leaving. James doesn’t speak from exact experience, but close enough.

He watches as Mary and Lily dance around her continuous insisting that they stay for dinner; it’s all ‘we really should be going’s, and ‘but I was going to make your favourites’, and ‘we’ll be back very soon to visit’s. 

They will be. Either that, or his mum will have tracked them down within an hour and kidnapped them to return for whatever reason she can make up. His dad, on the other hand, is the complete opposite.

“We’re going to miss you girls,” he’s saying when James begins paying attention again. “Lily, I always did say you could do better than James.”

Exasperatedly, James throws his hands in the air in a manner that says ‘how did the conversation spin right back around to me?’ Beside him, Regulus stifles a snicker.

“Well, I came to that realisation, but I don’t think that one will,” she almost whispers jokingly, gesturing at Regulus who stops looking so amused when he becomes the punchline.

Quickly, James places a hand over either of Regulus’ ears as if he’s preventing him from learning common sense.

“And he won’t,” he replies insistently. “This one’s here to stay.”

In the background, Sirius makes gagging gestures and noises while Regulus hides how pleased he is behind a very unconvincing sigh.

“You know I can still hear you, right?”

“Good; that works in my favour later,” he returns much too loudly on purpose, for the sole reason of watching his boyfriend turn red, and said boyfriend’s brother look absolutely horrified.

“What did I just say?”

“Honestly, Padfoot, when it comes to Reg, I aspire to do the opposite of what you say.”

With a betrayed look, Sirius turns to his fiancé next to him for support. “Moony, Reggie’s influencing James! I told you this would happen, didn’t I? I told you he was going to use this against me, that he was going to turn against his best friend for my brother, and I was right. I was—“

“Yes, sweetheart, you were right,” Remus agrees tiredly, likely used to his fiancé’s dramatics by now. “But if I could not deal with the hour-long ramble that comes with this right now, that would be much appreciated.”

“Look, you’re turning against me too, I can’t believe this, he’s corrupted all of you. At least I’ve still got Pete.”

“Oh, I never liked you,” the man adds nonchalantly, crossing his arms.

“ Peter?” Sirius blurts, appalled. “Well, I’m still Monty’s favourite.”

At this, the man in question looks at the ceiling while he whistles in an attempt to ignore the previous statement.

“Effie?” Sirius implores.

Her lips curl as she extends a hand out to him which he immediately takes. “Don’t worry, I still love you, my little star.”

With a triumphant smile, Sirius hugs her, sticking his tongue out as he looks around at the others smugly; there’s no need for the victorious laugh to be performed aloud for them to understand what he means.

James is just thinking about how he’s their biological son, and that that makes him an automatic favourite when he comes to the realisation that both of his parents probably favour Sirius over him.

Well, he did steal his brother, so perhaps that’s fair.

*

Mary

It takes Mary a little while once the two of them have settled in their new shared flat to register just what living together, but finally alone, means. No more worrying about someone turning a corner and seeing them snog if she tries anything, they’re free to do whatever they want with no judgment; not that anyone in the Potter house would judge them for doing coupley things.

Once they have their boxes of belongings—there really aren’t too many—spread out all over the place and their friends have left to let them get settled, the first thing that Mary does is pull Lily into a deep kiss, soft and sweet. When they part, the other woman sounds quite breathless which only makes her smile.

“What was that for?” she whispers, mirroring Mary’s smile as she plays with her curls.

She shrugs gently. “Because I can, and I wanted to.”

“Oh, well, if we’re doing the things we want…”

The kisses last longer as time passes, and soon they’re walking—one forwards, the other back—towards the bedroom, tangled up in each other. Mary would willingly get lost in Lily Evans permanently if she could, and not for lack of trying. She’s the first bloom of flowers in the spring, the rise of the sun in the early hours of the morning, the twitter of birds as they rise from their slumber. She is life, Mary’s life, and there isn’t anything on the Earth, living or otherwise, more beautiful.

“I love you so much,” the statement is punctuated with a kiss, yet Mary isn’t quite sure who says it, nor who initiates the action. It’s easy to forget where one ends and the other begins, with them.

“You love me?” Lily asks with a confident smile, causing Mary to realise that the woman has been waiting for the conventional reply to that comment.

“So much,” she breathes, barely parting their lips as she speaks. “More than I ever thought possible. More than the fairytales, and then some. More than any living creature will ever love another.”

“Oh.”

It’s almost funny, the way that that single syllable shifts the mood of the entire scene. Touches grow harsher, kisses deeper, pausing for breath happens a lot less.

Not that she is complaining.

*

She saunters into the kitchen after barely ten, possibly fifteen if she’s pushing it, minutes after Lily had left their cozy position on the sofa to prepare them lunch; they are keeping their promise to Effie that they will be back at the house for dinner tonight, and then at least once a week following. Well, the former part of it anyway.

Wrapping her arms around Lily’s waist, she rests her chin on her shoulder only to last a few seconds before beginning to muzzle at her neck, tempted to go over the marks left there from an hour or so ago.

“Hands to yourself, MacDonald,” she says with a smile, swatting at her with a tea towel when she doesn’t move. “I’ve only been gone ten minutes.”

“Every second without you is eternity, çiçeğim.”

“…eternity, my flower.”

Lily laughs softly, lowering the grater and block of cheese in her hands as she turns on the spot to face Mary.

“If you can tell me how many eternities that would make in ten minutes, I’ll allow a redo of an hour ago.”

That’s just pure evil, that is; Mary is genuinely awful at maths, and judging by her evil grin, Lily knows this very well.

“I would think that my previous performance is convincing enough for another round,” she swerves instead, only earning an amused expression from her girlfriend.

“Nice try, darling. Now leave me to finish the pasta, and I’ll think about it.”

Admitting defeat, Mary pecks her on the cheek before returning to her place in the living room and wrapping herself up in a blanket. The persistent temptation to get up is ever-present for the following half an hour, but then Lily enters with two plates in her hands and this is deemed obsolete.

She makes sure to smack her lips together and compliment the dish after each bite, despite her girlfriend’s insistence that it’s only a bit of pasta, and once the plates are empty and cleared away, they sit in comfortable silence, watching a film together as Mary continuously swats at her pesky thoughts that refuse to leave her alone. Especially with Lily’s head resting on her shoulder.

It hits her, after a little while of this, that she has never quite known a peaceful home like this one. Never been able to call the place in which she lives a home and genuinely mean it. And now, she has that and more. A home, not a house, with a partner she loves and who loves her back, and an easy heart. It’s easy to miss it when you live with it for so long, but now that she is in a situation such as this one, Mary realises that she had never been able to completely relax and breathe easily as a child. There was always a possibility of the smallest of inconveniences tearing down everything in the blink of an eye.

She’s finally free.

As though she senses something, Lily lifts her head to look up at her. “What is it, aşkım?”

“What is it, my love?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. I— I just…” she trails off, unsure of what to say, how to finish.

“Take your time; I’m here for as long as you need me.”

After a few moments of consideration, Mary continues, “Thank you. Thank you for… for being my safe place. For giving me somewhere to go, something to hope for. Thank you for being you. I don’t know what I’d do without you, sweetheart.”

A hand on her cheek, Lily leans in to kiss her slowly. There are a million and one words said with that simple touch of lips, and those left unsaid, simply because they don’t need to be mentioned to be heard. Mary hears them, she understands. And she’s grateful for every last bit.

“Sometimes,” she starts quietly, thumb stroking Mary’s cheek. “I wish I could show you what you look like through my eyes. I wish you could hear the way my brain and my heart and every other part of me stops functioning for a second when I see you. I wish I could erase every last bit of him from your memory. And while that may not be entirely possible, I’m going to personally make sure that you feel so loved from now on that you start feeling a little sick of it. We’re going to be happy for the rest of our lives, you and me, and there is nothing anyone can say or do to stop that, you’ll see.”

Not to ruin the moment, or anything, but the first thing out of Mary’s mouth after hearing this beautiful declaration is unfortunately: “Well, unless you have another ex as bold as me who shows up to our wedding to object…”

Lily chuckles. “No, just you.”

“Good.”

Happy together forever. Maybe it is her turn to live a fantasy-like world.

*

Regulus

He’s sitting on the large windowsill again, the very top floor, looking out the window when James pokes his head up from the peak of the stairs. It isn’t nighttime like it usually is, no, it’s only been about a couple of hours since they returned from helping the girls move, and yet Regulus felt the need to come up here and be alone for a little anyway.

He would call it stupid, but knowing James, he would only receive reassuring protests in response.

“Are you alright, pyaar?” he inquires gently, taking a seat opposite where Regulus has folded up his legs to make room.

“Are you alright, love?”

He nods, chin resting on his arms which lay on his knees, stacked on top of each other. “Just needed to be alone for a minute, that’s all.”

“Should I…?” he trails off, gesturing towards the stairs, always understanding, never questioning. Sometimes, Regulus has a hard time believing that he’s actually real, and his.

“No; it’s alright when it’s you.”

Oh, the fool likes that, that much is evident from his growing grin. Of course he does, it’s likely the most cheesy thing that Regulus has ever told him, or anyone, and probably ever will. But, well, he’s always been rather blunt and honest, and this is the same—nothing but the truth.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks when Regulus returns to his silence.

He shrugs, peering at him through his eyelashes. “Just… feels a little weird. Dorcas and Marlene went to their flat, Sirius and Remus are out looking for one, Peter went home, and Mary and Lily have left too. It’s quite empty now. Quiet.”

“I thought you liked the quiet.”

“I do. It just takes a little getting used to sometimes.”

James nods, not pushing him for any more information than he’s willing to give.

They remain like that for a few minutes, sitting opposite each other in silence that neither seems to be particularly bothered by, nor willing to break. It is only when James gets to his feet and stretches out a hand that Regulus lifts his head.

“Will you come with me? I want to show you something,” he says, unknowing of all the places Regulus would willingly go with him, so long as he asked.

Now, when he takes the offered hand and stands, Regulus expects to actually be taken somewhere, like most would in this circumstance. What James does, however, is lead him about five steps to the left, where there is a wall, and then tells him to wait there as he slides a hand up and down where the wall meets the one perpendicular to it, apparently looking for something. This is reinforced when he makes a satisfied noise and pulls the wall open like a door. Blinking, Regulus only stands still, perplexed and yet intrigued when he is pulled inside the little hideout and releases a small gasp at the sight that is awaiting him inside.

There is another window here, a little smaller and with no windowsill to accompany it, but set up in front of it is a telescope which looks like it hasn’t moved in years. It has clearly gathered dust, apart from a few areas where there are more recent finger marks. Small lights are scattered around the walls and ceiling in the shape of stars, clearly at the peak of their beauty in the darkness. He’ll just have to find out in a few hours.

“What is it for?”

He knows the answer. James knows he knows the answer. And yet, all the man does is gesture to the telescope in a manner that says, ‘take a look for yourself.’

He lines up his eye with the glass and finds his own star looking right back at him, as expected. Despite this fact, a small smile finds its way onto his face, refusing to leave when he attempts to evict it on such short notice, which makes James smile too.

“You like it?”

“Of course I do. It’s— this is all amazing. How long has this been here?”

“Since I was fifteen, give or take,” he replies, like this is the most normal thing in the world.

“And you… never took it down?” He isn’t sure why he says that, it’s going to ruin the moment, surely, he’s so stupid, why would he go and—

“I couldn’t,” James admits quietly, not looking at him. “I couldn’t bear to even come up here, let alone move the wall and see all of this again. It just… hurt too much. I almost broke down just thinking about it.”

“Was it really that bad for you?” he finds himself whispering before he can register it.

James offers him a smile, one that shows the work done to move past all of the pain, or at least does a very good job of hiding it.

“Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. Which makes finding you again the best, so it balances out, really.”

“James.”

He opens his mouth, closes it, and sighs, understanding that Regulus is not going to drop this until he gets what he wants, what he’s looking for; the truth.

“It was… bad, Reg. Really bad. I couldn’t tell anyone, so I just… bottled it all up inside of me, apart from the time I burst out crying in front of the boys, and that only led to explosive moments when I couldn’t do it anymore. It hurt, but I knew it would hurt even more if Sirius found out because he’d either do something rash or cut me out of his life, and I was barely surviving after the loss of one Black brother. So, I didn’t tell anyone, and hoped I would get over it eventually. Lily helped with that a bit, but I don’t think I ever fully recovered from the serious trust issues it gave me. Those were the worst. Those and the nightmares.”

“I’m so sorry,” Regulus is saying without much consideration. “I— fuck, I’m so sorry I put you through that, I should have found some other way to break it to you, that was so stupid of me, I just—“

“Don’t you dare apologise,” he interrupts. “You share as much fault in this as I do. You subjected yourself to the likes of them for me, and I will never let you blame yourself in such a way ever again, alright? You were a child, Reg, you shouldn’t have ever gone through anything like that, no one should. You did what you felt you had to, and there is nothing wrong with that.”

It doesn’t take much thought at all to kiss him.

But before he knows it, he’s walking forwards to pull the man in by the face, a hand on either of his cheeks, like it’s the easiest thing in the world, like it’s his sole purpose in life. When they part, James is grinning his stupid grin again. It makes Regulus want to kiss him again.

This grin of his only widens to inhumane levels when Regulus says, “I love you. I love you so fucking much, James Potter, and I will never know what I did to deserve you twice, but you best believe I’ll be thanking my lucky stars for it until the day I die. I know I don’t say things like this very often, but you are too perfect for existence, and yet here you are, deciding to love me of all people. I don’t know what I am to do with that, but I appreciate it every second of my life, and more. And I’m going to spend the rest of our lives making up for the pain I’ve caused you whether it’s my fault or not, you’ll see.”

Following this, James smacks kisses to every inch of his face until he’s spluttering and swatting at him to get away. “I love you too. I love you more than life itself, and I swear I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving to you that you are worth all of this love and helping you see that you deserve good things. I’m going to tell you I love you until my very last breath, mark my words.’

Regulus believes him; really, truly believes him.

What else is he to do?

Chapter Text

Mary

The beginning of September brings the end of the summer holidays, and with it, work. Unfortunately, being an adult with not much family to lean on means working a part-time job while she finishes her second academic course—art history. The first, business and finance, had never been her cup of tea and never actually chosen by her, so the second she got out, she dropped it and started doing something she actually enjoys. However, she hasn’t exactly got many funds supporting herself, which brings her back to the job thing.

Mary works in a coffee shop. If her teachers could see her now, they’d likely be a little disappointed, they always told her she had a bright future; maybe she does, but if so, it hasn’t become apparent just yet. The slightly ironic side of things is that the shop is where she met Regulus for the first time.

Unlike her, the pretentious bastard had had a rather large trust fund to start on—albeit, he had stolen it from his family as a special ‘fuck you’—but he had gone and spent the majority of it on the flat he owns to this day, which had left him in a similar position to her. Hence, the coffee shop.

If you had told teenage Mary that she would one day be working side-by-side with Regulus Black, pouring coffee and plating cakes, she would have broken something from laughing.

Present-day Mary watches the man in question walk into the shop and hang up his belongings in the staff room before, huffing, he ties his apron on and takes his position beside her.

“There’s my partner in crime,” she greets, surprised to gain a small smile from him—he’s never been the most expressiony person. “How are things at the Potters’?”

“Good morning to you too,” he quips dryly, likely in an attempt to cover up the brief glimpse of happiness because Heaven forbid Regulus Black should show emotion. “Things are… great. They’re so great it’s—“ he cuts himself off, back to Mary so she can’t see his face.

“Trouble in paradise?” she inquires as she reflexively passes him the sugar, not quite expecting that. 

Beat. “Not exactly,” he allows eventually, as though taking a minute to consider his words before he actually speaks them, for whatever reason. “It’s just— things are great.”

“Clearly,” she agrees with a hint of sarcasm.

He gives her a look before sighing in frustration. “They are though. That’s the problem.”

Blinking, Mary takes the time to absorb the words yet finds that she’s hit a wall. “I… don’t follow?”

Tapping his fingers on the countertop, he turns back around to face her with a new mug of coffee in his hands.

“When things are going this well in a relationship,” he begins, likely unaware that it has just gone opening time, not that she is about to interrupt this to let him know—something seems important here. “Is where it tends to crash downwards at an alarming rate for me.”

“Why’s that?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it without making a sound, and sighs. “I haven’t actually told anyone this. Apart from my friends back at school.”

“You don’t have to—“ she starts.

“No, I— it would probably be good to get some practise; I have to tell him soon anyway.” Pause. She’s really growing quite curious now, but he just seems so… uncomfortable. No, it’s not uncomfortable, it’s… it distinctly reminds Mary of when Marlene came out to her and Lily, but surely that isn’t what’s happening here. Nothing says ‘I’m gay’ better than objecting a wedding for a guy.

“I’m asexual,” he declares, finally looking her inthe eyes.

Oh. 

Well, that certainly makes a lot more sense than what she had originally assumed. Then again, being an idiot is practically a personality trait of hers by now.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” she replies as his gaze barely lasts five seconds on her before falling to the floor.

He huffs a quiet laugh. “People always say that. And yet, you know what they do the second they realise just what it means?”

“Reg…”

“They leave. It’s always that they think they can convince me otherwise, or that it’s not a definite decision for life, or some other stupid fucking excuse that means they always thought they’d get to fuck me at some point. But the second they realise that I’m not having it, they leave. Maybe throw a few insults my way, or even have the audacity to complain about it, like I don’t care for them enough, then they walk away. Every. Single. Time.”

Mary isn’t sure what to do with that. She’ll never know how that feels—to be considered not enough simply for being the way she is—and consequently, she isn’t quite sure how to… comfort him? He doesn’t exactly seem to need comforting, but Mary has never been the best at advice. Now, sarcastic comments, that’s her jam.

You can see why she and Remus get along so well.

Eventually, the period of silence stretches for so long that Regulus begins chuckling to himself, his head tipping towards the floor while his curls follow, curtaining his face as Mary stands there, uncertain of what to do in this situation. When he looks back up, he looks much more amused than before which Mary takes as a win, she guesses.

“I’ve missed that,” he tells her, smiling softly. “The only part of telling people that doesn’t bother me is the awkward silence where they have no idea what to say or do. Well, except the time I told Evan and he burst out with the ‘me too.’  Though that did give Barty the epiphany of constantly making ‘don’t worry, I’ll shag enough people for all of us’’ jokes. Believe it or not, that was a long year.”

She blinks. “I thought they were together in school?”

“They were, started right after the Easter holidays of sixth year,” he explains. “This was a little before Easter of the previous year. That was a painful year too; though I suspect my brother and Remus gave you a taste of what that feels like.”

She would usually say something along the lines of ‘you have no idea’ right about now, but he’s just gone and proven the exact opposite, hasn’t he?

“Regulus,” she starts again after a minute. “I’m afraid I still don’t see the problem. I mean, I can see why past experiences might have affected you to make you think like this, but it’s James. Surely you don’t think—“

He sets the mug down on the counter with a small thump. “I don’t know what I think. I just— I feel terrible hiding this from him, but even the idea of telling him makes me want to throw up non-stop for days on end. And I know—believe me, I know—how… perfect he is, but everyone has a line. What if this is his? That isn’t something you can change, or— or grow to get over; it’s done and decided. And every single time I try to tell him, my mind tells me to just wait one more day. Just one more day with him, and then he can leave if he wants to, but it isn’t going to work like that. I’m just going to keep putting it off, until…” he trails off, like he isn’t quite sure what comes next.

“Regulus,” she says gently. “You know him better than anyone, yeah? And you know when I tell you that James would much rather you tell him before he unknowingly takes it too far, than you wait until the last possible moment, that it’s true. You’ve known it all along. Now, of course it’s up to you, but I think it would be best for the both of you if you tell him as soon as possible. If you want, try to mention it in conversation a couple of times to see how he feels about it; it might help when he gives you a big reminder of how James he is.”

“But what if he leaves?”

The words sound as though they have been ripped from him without permission, a mere hint of a whisper, revealing his deepest and darkest fear. It just about breaks Mary’s heart, though there is a small part of her that wants to whack him on the head and tell him to snap out of it. This is James, for goodness sake. When has he ever been anything but loving and kind?

“He won’t,” she promises firmly, meeting his gaze when he looks at her. “I’m willing to bet on it.”

“I really hope you’re right, Mary.”

Yeah. Yeah, I do too.

*

Lily

Lily has done something. Something huge, and possibly stupid, but hopefully good. Oh, it’s risky, alright, and could potentially end in a big fight, but that is looking like the very worst case scenario, so high hopes.

The stupid thing that she has done? Ah, patience, you’ll find out soon enough.

‘Soon enough’ being whenever Mary finally arrives home.

Right on cue, there is a clicking sound as a key turns in the door which then opens to reveal a warmly wrapped up Mary who grins when she notices Lily standing there looking at her. Deep breaths, Lily, deep breaths.

“Hey,” Mary greets, giving her a quick kiss before turning to hang up her coat. “How was your day?”

“Eventful,” she replies after a beat of considering abandoning the plan altogether and pretending it never happened. “I, er, have a surprise for you.”

She spins around on the spot, surprised yet intrigued. “Oh? And just what might that be?”

“Go in the sitting room and you’ll find out,” she answers, preferring to be outside of the room when the reaction goes down.

“Where in the sitting room?” she asks on her way to the door.

“Just… in there, you can’t miss it.”

It’s quite a difficult thing to miss, after all.

Lily finds herself following, despite herself, but pauses at the door, just metres behind where Mary has frozen in place, staring at the woman sitting on the sofa. Is this too far? Should she not have done it? She had meant to have a nice little reunion, but now that she thinks about it—

“Äiti?” Mary breathes; it is one of the few Finnish words that Lily recognises to this day: mum.

The woman on the sofa smiles and murmurs to her daughter in their language, leaving Lily perplexed as to how the encounter is going.

However, when the two meet in the middle and hug each other tightly, crying and laughing simultaneously as they converse, she takes it as a sign that this hadn’t been a mistake after all.

There’s a part of her that smiles reflexively as she watches it all, yet another that hurts despite the joy around her, because she knows that she won’t have such a reunion with her sister like she might desire deep down somewhere. Well, you can’t have everything, as they say.

And she has friends that count as sisters more than Petunia ever did.

*

“You’re absolutely fucking insane, you know that?”

She only smiles knowingly and kisses her girlfriend.

“So you’re happy, then?” she checks, just in case.

“Happy doesn’t even begin to describe it. I feel so much that I could run around the exterior of this place thousands of times, jump so high I can reach the stars, and so much more. I’ve spent all this time worrying sick about her, and you did what I never thought to do. There are no words that can describe how I feel, at the moment, and about you, Lily Evans. You’re mind-blowing, you’re amazing, you’re incredible, and you’re all mine. Sometimes I still can’t quite believe my luck.”

Lily lets out a small laugh. “I don’t think objecting at my wedding was much to do with luck, do you?”

“Yes, well, I just happen to be a bit of a mastermind.”

“Mm, right, mastermind, psycho, what’s the difference after all?” she says sarcastically, shrieking when she is pinched in retort.

“Are you not happy with the way things turned out?”

“Of course I am, what kind of question is that?”

“Then don’t complain about the process that got us here, darling.”

Neither of them know it just yet, but they’ll both be incredibly thankful to the process in question over the following years, decades even.

Until death do them part, indeed.

*

James

It’s during his lunch break while the children are outside that he finally picks up his phone to check his messages. Automatically, he goes to text Regulus, only to find that there is a location and message waiting for him there. The location seems to belong to some kind of flat—likely his own—while the message reads: don’t go home tonight. I’ve got a surprise for you.

And that about settles his plans for the evening.

The only problem is that time appears to go by so much slower when you’re waiting for something. Usually, James loves his job, even if it does seem a bit of an obvious thing that he would be into teaching; the kids, the controlled chaos, every last bit of it. And while he still enjoys it today, saying that the afternoon after lunch didn’t pass at snail’s pace would be a downright lie.

He waves goodbye to the final five-year-old as the boy dashes away to meet his dad, and is out of there quicker than he has ever been.

The drive there isn’t too long, only about ten or fifteen minutes, yet it feels like a bloody eternity. James is truly awful at waiting, especially for surprises, and he has a feeling that Regulus told him so to make him hurry. What the surprise could be, he has no idea. It’s been almost two months now since the would-be wedding, as they’ve all begun calling it, yet when James racks his brain for anything to do with this—birthdays, anniversaries, holidays—he finds nothing. Not a single thought. It’s exciting, but admittedly also a little worrying.

When he finally pulls up outside of the unfamiliar flat, he is a little confused as to how he is going to find the correct one when another text pings on his phone.

Second floor, first on your left

His gaze immediately flies to the windows above to see if he can catch the man watching, clearly having been waiting for his arrival to send the message, but by the time he takes a look at all of them, they’re empty. And so he steps inside and climbs up the first flight of stairs, knocking on what is hopefully the correct door once he reaches it.

Frankly, James is a bit of an idiot most of the time, but today he has surpassed that line by miles.

In the haste of leaving and worrying in the car, he completely forgot that it may be customary for such a surprise for him to get dressed up a little more than he has to be for a job teaching five- and six-year-olds. This reminder hits him swift as a slap to the face when Regulus opens the door in a white shirt, trousers, all of the jewelry—a green, rectangular locket, his star earrings, and of course, several silver rings—his curls tamed a little more than usual, plus fucking eyeliner. Oh, he knows exactly what he’s doing, and it takes everything within James to continue forming coherent sentences. What the fuck, you can’t do that to a man unless you want to kill him right where he stands.

“James,” Regulus repeats, an amused smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Hm?” Snap out of it, what’s wrong with you?

“I asked if you’d like to come in,” he explains, standing to the side while an arm gestures towards the flat.

“Oh, I, er— yes, I’d like that,” he tries to amend, stuttering over his words like a fool. But, well, can you blame him?

As he takes off his shoes and enters, Regulus closes the door and leads him by the hand to what he assumes is the living room, judging by the sofa, coffee table, and television.

“Make yourself comfortable,” he says. “I’m just going to go finish setting the table.”

“You cooked?” James finds himself asking before he can prevent it. That’s new.

“Yes; is there a problem with that?”

“No, of course not, I just— didn’t know you liked to cook, that’s all,” he replies quickly.

“Not a lot of people do,” he informs, strolling off towards what is presumably the kitchen to finish cooking. Alright, what is that supposed to mean?

James doesn’t have very long to ponder on this subject because at that moment, a black cat—kitten, perhaps, it is really quite small—jumps right onto his lap. He isn’t quite sure what he had been expecting from Regulus’ flat, but a pet had not been part of it.

“Hello,” he greets softly, smoothing its fur. “Quite like Reggie, aren’t you? You both know how to get my attention. And what might your name be?”

The cat meows, like it’s actually answering him, but clearly James doesn’t understand a word. He searches for a collar, but there isn’t one. Perhaps it’s a stray that Regulus has taken in—oh, James’ mum would love that.

“Well, ‘meow,’ pleased to meet you,” he responds. “I’m James, and—“

“Who are you talking to?” comes Regulus’ voice followed by his body appearing at the door before he sighs and smiles at the same time. “I see you two have met.”

“Yes, ‘meow’ here and I were just getting acquainted. He has some pointers for you about how to get my attention, by the way, I’d much rather his methods from now on.”

“Okay, first of all, his name is not ‘meow,’ it’s Ari,” he corrects, apparently quite offended by the insinuation. “And second, I know very well what his methods are, and you won’t be seeing them anytime soon from me, Potter, so don’t get your hopes up.”

“Shame, that.”

“Oh, yes, it’s so sad that you won’t be getting something you want for once. Come on, put him down, I don’t want the dinner getting cold.”

Carefully, James takes the cat—Ari—and places him on the floor before standing to follow the man to this supposed dinner. He isn’t sure what to expect, but you bet it isn’t the candle-lit, restaurant quality meal waiting for him on the table.

“You made this?” he says before considering it too much.

Regulus gives him a look. “Yes, I did, why?”

“So you’re telling me that you’ve always been able to cook like this, and never once decided to showcase your talents?” His eyes don’t leave the table.

“I’ve never been one for showcasing much, have I?” is the quick reply to this, and there’s no arguing with it, really.

James doesn’t bother trying to, in any case, and instead decides to focus on the incredible meal awaiting him. It’s pure bliss from the first bite, honestly, and the compliments are tumbling out of his mouth without much thought to them at all.

He lasts about three bites before giving in and asking where Regulus acquired such skills, and in all honesty, he should have expected that it had something to do with spite.

“Growing up, we were always told that cooking and cleaning was for the woman of the house, and that the man’s job was to go to work and earn the money, end of story,” he begins, taking a sip of his wine. “Ironically, my mother pushed this message more than my father. Anyway, I grew to resent them and their ways after a while, as you know, but it was when I got out of there that I realised I could do whatever I wanted. Honestly, when I first started cooking, it was so I could survive, more than anything, but there was a part of me that enjoyed the thought of what my parents would think, seeing me like that. But somewhere along the way, it hit me that I genuinely enjoyed it, so I kept going. I got better, started cooking for a few friends, and eventually, it became clear that this is what I was meant to do. If I had had the funds from the very beginning, I would have opened a restaurant by now, but I kind of blew that quite quickly. I was younger, and stupid, but it’s going much better now, and I have a plan. I wasn’t sure when I was going to tell you about this, but I guess today’s the day for you to find out a lot of things about me. So, surprise.”

James chuckles at the final two words, purely because they’re so… Regulus in their awkwardness and mild sarcasm. It takes his brain a moment to register all of what he has just been told.

“A lot of things about you?” he repeats confusedly, noticing the way the other man tenses slightly at the words.

“Right. There’s that too, isn’t there?” he mumbles, though whether to himself or James, the latter hasn’t got a clue. “So, there is a reason I wanted to have this dinner, aside from the fact that it might be our first and last depending on how this goes.”

James blinks, taking it in. Wait, that isn’t— no, he must have misunderstood. First and last? Is he being broken up with right now?

No, that’s absolutely ridiculous, not after all that they’ve gone through together. Surely not.

His ascending heartbeat baits him out as a liar before his brain ever has the chance.

“I just want to say, however this goes,” Regulus adds quickly. “Thank you. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, whether you know of it or not. Thank you for keeping me going these past few years, even though you didn’t mean to. Thank you for being you, James.”

“Are you breaking up with me right now?”

The words, similar to the majority of James’, are not thought through in the least, and tumble out helplessly. What is unusual about them compared to James’ typical dialogue is that they sound like they have been stolen from him, like he chokes on them on the way out.  It’s awful, and he never wants to feel this way again.

“What? No, of course not, you fool.” Well, it’s reassuring yet insulting. Classic Regulus. “It’s that you might not want to be with me anymore after I tell you something else about myself.”

James is rather offended by this, if he’s completely honest. In what universe could that be possible?

He pulls his chair in closer before taking one of Regulus’ hands in his own. “Reg, I promise you there is nothing you could say to me that would draw such a reaction from me. I’ve found you again after all these years, what kind of idiot would I have to be to willingly lose you again after all of that? Give me a little credit here, love.”

“Even if I told you that you’d never get to fuck me?”

“What?”

“Even then, James? Even if I told you that this—“ he gestures between the two of them. “—is the furthest our relationship is ever going to get, physically? Would you still choose to stay?”

“I—“ he pauses, not to think about his answer, that’s obvious and settled, but to realise how many times the man must have gone through this to be so ready to lose him, so ready for the oncoming pain despite the lack of existence it has. It’s genuinely heartbreaking. “Yes, of course I would. In fact, I am. Pyaar, if you think I’m with you for that, then I don’t think you ever truly got to know me. I’m with you because I love you, and I want to marry you one day and grow old with you. I’m in this for you, nothing more, nothing less, okay? Tell me you know that.”

He didn’t know it. He does now—oh, he really knows it now—but he didn’t earlier. Not before this encounter. That much is clear from his eyes alone.

“You promise?” he whispers, their faces mere centimetres away now.

James chuckles leaning forward to rest his forehead on Regulus’.

“Yes, you deranged lunatic, I promise. I promise I’m not only with you to get into your pants, I promise I’m going to love you until the end of time, and I promise I won’t tell anyone about this and embarrass you to your brother or our friends. Is that good enough for you?”

The deep kiss he is pulled into suggests the positive.

Chapter Text

A Month And A Half Later: Lily

“No,” Remus repeats with a tired smile when Sirius doesn’t drop it.

“Why not?” he whines, clearly used to getting his way.

“Because you just want an excuse to put a skirt on me again!”

This has been the conversation for the last ten or so minutes. It is the week before Halloween and everyone has gathered at Lily and Mary’s shared flat to discuss costumes. Unsurprisingly, Sirius is insisting on couple’s costumes, which no one has complained about since the bringing up of the topic; apart from his stubborn fiancé. In the man’s defence, he isn’t wrong. Sirius continuously lists straight couples and calls dibs on being the man, and nobody has missed the fact that the women mentioned tend to wear skirts or dresses in their most known outfits.

“Mm, I agree with Remus,” Peter states thoughtfully. “You should dress as another couple, like Velma and Daphne.”

James whacks him gently on the back of the head. “You just want them both in skirts.”

“Are you complaining?”

He seems to think about this before turning back to the indecisive couple at hand. “Pete makes a valid point; you two would look fucking ho— .” Beside him, Regulus scowls and elbows him in the ribs. “Ow! What was that for?”

“Pick a brother, Potter,” he retorts.

“Listen, Reggie, I love you, but unless you’re telling me that I could possibly ever convince you to wear a dress for Halloween…” his gaze remains idiotically optimistic.

“You forget that I wore an abundance of them throughout the first decade and a bit of my life. In fact, I’m probably the best-looking in them out of us five.” He pauses with his mouth slightly open, like he’s thinking about whether he really, truly wants to share the next bit with the class. “I can also walk in high heels.”

Many eyebrows raise in scepticism and amusement, but it is Marlene who laughingly says, “Now, this I need to see.”

Before Regulus’ protests can take shape, Mary has jumped out of her place next to Lily on a sofa and dashes off to the bedroom where her special-occasion shoes are stored. When she returns after a couple of minutes, there are a pair of red stilettos in her grip which she hands to Regulus who takes them with a surprising lack of complaint.

He walks off to the spare room with them in his hands, presumably to change and get used to them, but no one is prepared for the sight that meets them when the door next opens in barely five minutes. Lily’s jaw drops, which is the least she can say for James, the fool.

Because Regulus Black is fucking strutting in red stilettos without a single wobble in his stride.

How do they look better on him than Lily?

Dorcas lets out a wolf-whistle, while the rest of them cheer and whoop and clap as he walks around with a triumphant smirk. Well, all except for James who just sits there with his mouth hanging open and a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. Remus mutters something about choosing the wrong brother, to which Sirius releases an indignant noise and, promising that he can pull them off even better, stalks off towards the girls’ bedroom.

Once he makes a reappearance, feet now stuffed into a pair of hot-pink heels, the room is full of even more noise than before as the brothers walk round and round in an attempt to prove themselves better than the other. If Lily wasn’t so in love with Mary, she might just—

Kidding. She’s kidding. Mostly. 

“How are you both so good at that?” Dorcas asks in an almost envious tone. “I’ve been wearing heels my entire life and I always twist my ankle.”

“Please, Meadowes, we’re the heirs of the one and only Black family,” Sirius dismisses sarcastically with an air about him. “Twisting ankles was not something we could afford to do at a gathering or dinner. Oh, the shame!” He raises the back of his hand to his forehead and pretends to swoon, almost falling over.

“Okay, I get Regulus, like he said, he’s had to wear them before,” Mary begins. “But surely you were like— banned from them or something? Why does it look like second nature to you?”

“Answered your own question there, Mare; I was forbidden from going near them, so I did quite the opposite. It was… a journey.”

“Yes, and who taught you how to walk in them without breaking an ankle?” Regulus inquires rhetorically. “Who had to put up with you and your sprained ankle when you didn’t listen?”

“You enjoyed my pain, don’t deny it.”

“Well, I think I deserved a laugh after the torture of trying to teach the Sirius Black something. I don’t know how our teachers did it every day at school.”

“Plenty of scolding and detentions,” Remus answers, grinning. “Yet he was somehow still their favourite.”

“I’ve just got a lovable personality,” Sirius replies easily, to which everyone gives him a look that says ‘really?’ “Oh, go to hell.”

Whilst he starts his pouting again, Mary tilts her phone screen towards Lily to show her a photo of Regulus and James, the writing ‘go as them?’ typed over it, with a mischievous grin spread over her features. Oh, what has she gotten herself into?

“What do you think?” she says quietly, so as not to disturb the light-hearted bickering taking place around them.

“Well, it depends.”

“On?”

“Whether or not I can be Regulus,” she replies, casting a quick glance toward the man in question who is now swapping shoes with his older brother so they can see who pulls them off better.

“Oh, come on, just because he’s got the better style!” Mary protests, though it’s clear from her tone alone that she is aware she’s lost already.

“I might have almost married James, but I cannot go around with fake glasses for a whole day,” she lies, unwilling to admit that she just really wants to see Mary in glasses and a half-buttoned shirt.

“Alright, fine, you can be him on one condition,” she agrees eventually.

Lily raises an eyebrow. “And just what might that be?”

“You have to wear the heels.”

Honestly, Lily isn’t sure what she had been expecting, but it most definitely had not been that. Given that her options are either red stilettos and good style, or red converse and decent style, she shrugs and accepts the challenge.

“You have yourself a deal, MacDonald.” They shake hands, each rather proud of themselves and satisfied with the agreement they have made.

“What are you two doing?” comes Marlene’s voice from right beside her ear. For someone so quiet, she sure does know how to sneak up on people.

Mary quickly lowers her phone. “Nothing. We were just… picking out our costumes, that’s all.”

“And what might those be?”

Lily flicks her on the nose gently; she yelps anyway, being Marlene. “None of your business, McKinnon. Go pick out costumes for you and your girlfriend.”

“Fiancée,” she corrects, pointing a finger at her that warns her not to repeat the same mistake as she makes her way back to the fiancée in question.

What is she going to be like when they get married?

*

James

With a sly—and stupidly optimistic—smirk, he finds a picture online and shows his phone to Regulus, ensuring that no one else can see as Sirius attempts to get a peek.

“What do you think?” he asks, to which the man beside him rolls his eyes.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not doing it for the characters, you’re doing it to see me in… that,” he gestures at the screen.

“Oh, come on, you know I love the films. And you like the books, I saw you reading them back at school,” he argues, still holding out hope because this will make his Halloween, Christmas, and birthday all in one. “Besides, you’d get to keep a crossbow in your hands all day; I might let you shoot Sirius depending on how irritating he is.”

Oh, that’s the right direction to head in, that much is clear from his eyes alone. “Go on,” he allows with a slightly more intrigued look now.

“Well, I’m afraid it’ll have to be a fake one,” he apologises. “But you could always hit him over the head with it if the bows aren’t effective enough to your liking.”

“Hey! I heard my name over there,” Sirius yells from halfway across the room. “What are you two talking about?”

“Just our costumes, Padfoot, relax.”

“Prongs, I’m flattered, but I don’t think either of you could pull off being me.”

James shares a look with Regulus. “Alright, it could potentially be a real one.”

Regulus grins. “I knew you’d come around.”

“You know, a little kiss might be just the thing to—“

Huffing fondly, Regulus pushes his face away with an amused sigh and turns to Dorcas on his other side. Yet James hears no complaints when he pulls him into his side.

He never does.

*

Remus

“Okay, what about—“ Sirius is saying when he is cut off.

“No,” Remus interrupts yet again because, well, one of them has to be responsible, and he doesn’t particularly fancy wearing a mini-skirt in October. Or ever, for that matter.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“We are not going as two of the powerpuff girls, Sirius.”

He hears no protests but a muttered, “Lucky guess.”

Remus glances at Peter who is currently watching them with an expression that suggests he is attempting not to burst into spontaneous laughter at the moment. He sticks up a finger (or two) before turning back to his very tiring fiancé.

“How about I pick out the costumes and surprise you on the day?” he suggests, just trying to end the conversation before he ends up dressing as… he doesn’t know, who wears a bikini through most of their screen time?

“And if I don’t like it?”

“Sirius, sweetheart, I think I know the person I’m getting married to soon enough.”

“I guess that’s fair.”

Now, if you’ll pay close attention here, Remus never promised that Sirius would like the costumes; only that he knows his fiancé.

But if he does end up having to put up with complaining for a whole day, that is on him.

*

Marlene

If the costumes were a competition, they’d win easily. She really is engaged to a bloody genius, isn’t she?

A gorgeous genius, she reminds herself, as she walks into the room to find Dorcas all dressed up.

“You like it?” she asks, holding her arms out to display the outfit, distinctly similar to how James did on the day of his and Lily’s would-be wedding.

“I have a reputation to uphold, so I can’t say the first thing that popped into my head,” she admits, stepping closer to kiss her. “But I can tell you that you’re going to be the hottest one there.”

“Complimenting me over yourself? Did you get hit on the head recently by any chance?” Dorcas mocks jokingly in response, leaning in again when Marlene puts on an offended expression.

“I can’t believe you’d think I’m that superficial,” she declares, moving away to pout. “My own fiancé, how could you—“

“You know you sound oddly like Sirius right now, right?”

She gasps, which only further proves the point made above. “You take that back.”

“I do, I’m sorry,” she amends quickly, offering a kiss to the knuckles. “That was dreadful of me to say.”

“Mm, better.”

“Oh no, don’t look at me like that.”

She blinks. “Like what?”

“We have to leave, we’re already running late; as unfortunate as it is, there’s no time.”

“Well,” she begins mischievously. “There could be a little time…”

“Oh God, we are not doing this.”

“I mean, I prefer ‘Marlene,’ but you can call me whatever you like.”

Dorcas gives her a look that makes her unsure of whether she is about to get kissed or killed here tonight.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she promises, leading the way out of the bedroom so they can leave and get to the party on time.

“The luckiest.”

Her gaze softens momentarily, and she kisses her again, but annoyingly, that is all it is before they continue putting on their shoes and coats. Honestly, why be sappy if it isn’t going to get her anywhere?

Once they arrive, they find that they are actually rather early—compared to some people, anyway—and Marlene only gives Dorcas a small glare that lets her know what they could have been doing in this time instead and stomps off to get a drink.

Her strops hardly ever last long, but they spice up a relationship.

*

Mary

Mary is fairly certain that they have the best costumes without even having seen the others yet. This opinion falters slightly when they get there, but her ego is too large for her to ever admit it.

“Oh, no way!” Lily exclaims when she spots Marlene and Dorcas. “ABBA?”

“Of course,” Marlene replies with a small gesture that says the same; it clearly takes her a moment to realise who they have dressed as. “Wait, are you guys…?”

“Oh, that’s fucking brilliant,” Dorcas snorts, almost spitting out her drink as she cackles. “You look just like them.”

“Who looks just like who?” comes Remus’ voice before he appears beside them, taking a good look round. It takes him approximately three seconds to burst out laughing. “Tell me they haven’t seen you yet, I need to see the look on their faces when—“

“The look on whose faces?” That’s Sirius. He practically materialises next to Remus, and it is then that Mary notices what they are dressed as: Morticia and Gomez Addams. She’ll give you two guesses who’s who. “Are you—? Oh, I knew I liked you guys. Where are those two, anyway? Oi, Pete! Have you seen Reg and James?”

At this, Peter walks towards them and informs them that no, the aforementioned couple have not had the decency to arrive yet. He compliments Mary and Lily on their outfits, and they him— —when the door opens to reveal the two men in question. They had all been looking forward to mess with them using Mary and Lily’s outfits, but everyone seems to be rather confused as to how the hell James ever got Regulus to agree to this.

“Sorry we’re late,” James apologises quickly, looking confused when Sirius looks at the two of them, horrified. “Had to talk out an agreement about certain accessories.” His eyes gesture to the crossbow attached to Regulus’ back, and suddenly it all fits.

“Katniss and Peeta,” Dorcas points out, smiling to herself. “Gotta say, Reg, it suits you.”

“Shut up.”

“James!” Sirius shouts suddenly. “What did I ever do to you? How could you betray me in this way?”

“Er— sorry, Padfoot, I don’t think I understand.”

“ You gave Regulus a crossbow!?”

James looks between the brothers, perplexed. “Yes? Is… there something wrong with that that I’m not picking up on, or…?”

“Oh, no, nothing wrong with it at all,” Sirius answers sarcastically. “You’ve just signed my will, dug my grave, bought my coffin, and asked me to lie in it.”

Regulus sighs. “You’re exaggerating, Sirius.”

“Oh, I am, am I? Shall we tell everybody what happened the last time you were given a weapon?”

“You deserved it.”

“You shot me!”

“With a fake gun!”

“It bloody hurt!”

“They were rubber bullets!”

“You little—“

“Wait,” Peter interrupts, laughing now. “You shot him?”

Regulus scowls, crossing his arms. “He spent the whole day bothering me, and then Bellatrix gifted me a fake gun for my birthday. Was I supposed to do something else?”

Mary leans in to whisper in Lily’s ear. “Okay, I suddenly feel very bad about our costume idea.”

“Why, what’s your—“ Regulus starts, apparently the bastard has bat-level hearing, before he takes a proper look at them and pauses. So does James, though with a more amused hint to his face.

Mary is in a black and white flannel jacket with a t-shirt underneath, and some jeans and red converse, while Lily is in a pair of black cargo pants with a cropped black jumper, plenty of silver jewellery, and the red stilettos to tie it all together.

“Is that… us?” the latter asks, a grin spreading on his face as he tries to hold in a laugh.

“You like it?” Mary offers, an arm over Lily’s shoulders.

“I actually don’t; how are you pulling off my style better than I do?”

“Ah, the benefits of being naturally beautiful.”

“You know what, MacDonald?”

“No, what is it, Potter?”

“I will shoot you both with one bow if you don’t stop talking,” Regulus intervenes, wearing his I’m-not-fucking-around face. Mary raises both hands in the air in surrender, as does James.

There is a beat of silence, before:

“Well, as pleasant as this was, let’s go get wasted!” Peter demands, leading the way to the drinks table.

“This is why you’re my favourite, Pete,” Remus tells him, ignoring Sirius when his jaw drops in clear offence.

They do, indeed, get wasted, and this time, there are no hastily spoken words that end in an awkward few hours the next day. After all, what else can Mary do, ask Lily to marry her?

I’m kidding, I’m kidding, I swear.

Though just because the girls have nothing left to get past, doesn’t mean the same for everybody…

*

Regulus

Regulus isn’t usually one for getting drunk and making stupid mistakes he regrets the next day; he leaves that sort of thing to his brother and his friends. However, he wakes up the next day with a throbbing headache, and only one thought running through his ready-to-split-open mind:

Oh, fuck me.

Chapter Text

Mary

Mary awakes the day after the Halloween party to the sound of her ringtone, though it might as well be someone banging pots and pans against each other, the way it makes her head ache. Wincing, she drags herself to a half-sitting position before picking up the phone to come face-to-face with Regulus’ name. Well, that’s not strictly true, his contact name in her phone is ‘baby Black’ but she doesn’t pay much attention to this as she answers the relentless call with a grumble.

“What do you want?” she demands, uncaring about rudeness or manners at the time being.

“I did something.”

Immediately, she feels more awake, sitting up straighter as she grips the phone. Despite her lack of involvement in whatever has happened, she feels her heart pounding in her chest as though it is attempting to pump out of her chest.

“What happened?” she asks, much calmer and softer than before.

There is a brief pause on the other end of the phone as Lily opens one eye tiredly, looking at her like she’s asking what on Earth she is doing so early in the morning after a party. Mary mouths ‘Regulus’ in hopes that that will be enough, which it presumably is as she sits up with a curious look on her face.

“You remember,” he begins after a minute. “The day we all went to the beach, and you and Lily got drunk and told each other that you love each other, and James and I were there for you all morning?”

“Regulus. You don’t need to do that. I’m here for you whenever you want to—“ Lily’s gestures cause her to pause to correct, “ We are here for you whenever you want to talk. What happened?”

A sigh. Beat. “I… you know how I get really clingy when I drink? According to a very hazy memory that’s been haunting me all morning, not only did I tell him we’re going to be together forever, but that I was going to marry him and bring up kids with him and—“ somehow, inexplicably, Mary knows that he is working his jaw right now, even though she has no real way of telling. “I think you get the point.”

“Oh, I get the point,” Mary replies unhelpfully. Lily nudges her with an elbow. “Er, sorry, did you want to come over?”

“I… really wish I had called earlier now.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because Effie is about to call us down for breakfast any second now, and I could’ve avoided the very awkward meal I’m about to sit through.”

Oh… yeah, that is not going to be fun; Mary is suddenly very glad not to be in his position, though she has the courtesy and common sense to not state this aloud.

“Well, there’s not exactly much to panic about, is there?” she attempts in a rather unconvincing fashion. “I mean, I’m sure James already tells you all of that and more sober.”

There is a very obvious halt on the other side of the call before he huffs, “You guys both said ‘I love you,’ to each other but were still panicking about whether the other was ready yet. You do not get to do… that right now.”

“I’m just saying, learn from our mistakes, Reg. We were idiots about it, don’t follow in our footsteps; you dealt with it, you know how painful it was. Do you really want to—“

“I’ve got to go,” he interrupts all of a sudden. “I’ll— call you later.”

She snorts. “You better, Black. I woke up at seven in the morning after a night of drinking for you.”

“Good bye, Mary.”

“Mhm.”

He hangs up first, he always does, and Mary sets the phone down on the nightstand beside the bed before turning her head to look back to Lily beside her. She looks exactly how Mary feels, in other words, very hungover and tired, yet also a little curious about the events at the Potter house right now. She wouldn’t be surprised if Regulus doesn’t drink ever again, the petty bastard.

“So…” Mary starts slowly as she crawls back underneath the covers. “Five more minutes?”

Lily scoffs, burying herself deeper into the bed. “ Hours, more like.”

Mary grins as she kisses her head before throwing an arm around her waist and burrowing closer, eyes already closed, well on the way to a slumber full of dreams that distract her from the immense headache she will have to suffer through upon her awakening.

*

Regulus

Regulus is so utterly fucked.

Was Mary wrong with what she said on the phone? No. Of course she wasn’t. Everyone who has ever known James knows what a sap he is, but that doesn’t put Regulus’ mind at ease like it should.

The problem? He isn’t quite sure why.

People always say drunk words are sober thoughts, or something along those lines, right? Well, it turns out that they were correct, whoever they were, though how Regulus wishes they weren’t.

Because while he has obviously thought about their future in the past, he didn’t want nor need James finding out about any of it so soon. 

Anyway, back to the present, because that is top of his list of things to panic about for the time being. He’s making his way to breakfast—they always have it in the kitchen despite the presence of the dining room which is only used for dinner and when guests are over—when Fleamont spots him and beckons for him to follow. If you think that Regulus has even half a clue what this is about, you’d be wrong. Does he have a guess? Of course, but if that guess is right, he’s going to be jumping out of the nearest, yet simultaneously highest window he can find in the house.

They’re in Fleamont’s office now.

Neither of them speak as they take their respective places sitting across from each other. The silence puts him on edge, like he’s about to be told off or shouted at or something worse. Monty must sense this, for he opens his mouth shortly after the thoughts form.

“I hate to be the one to tell you this, but James has already told us about last night,” he reveals, which has Regulus mapping the house for which window to leap out of. “And I figured you’d be fretting, so I decided to corner you before he could get to you.”

He thinks his input is being waited on, but he isn’t quite sure what to say to that. Yes sir, I’m afraid it’s true that I want to be with your son forever because I love him more than anyone else ev—

Oh.

He’ll come back to that later.

Or not.

Fleamont chuckles softly, drawing his attention. “I can see the wheels turning in your head. Don’t worry, Regulus, whatever it is you think I’m going to say, or that I want from you, I doubt that you are correct. I actually wanted to talk to you in hopes that I could help. I know that you’ve been panicking about what you’re going to say to him since the moment you woke up. And as someone who has been in your position, in a way, before, I can safely tell you that you are worrying over nothing.”

“Nothing?” he repeats, attempting to put as little sarcasm in his voice as he can because, well, he likes Fleamont, and he also likes to think that the feeling is mutual.

The man smiles knowingly, like he can and is reading Regulus’ mind, word for word. “A few years into my relationship with Effie, we went to a New Year’s party together. There, I apparently got quite intoxicated and told her every last detail of the proposal I had been planning for some time then. I told her when, I told her where, and I—according to her, anyway—ranted about every single little thing I possibly could have about the plan. And you know what she did?” Regulus does his best to prevent his jaw from dropping like it so wants to, and shakes his head. “She pretended she didn’t know. I had no memory of the event the next morning, and we both carried on like normal. Then, Valentine’s Day rolled around, I popped the question, and she looked genuinely surprised, and said yes. I didn’t find out about what I had done until a few months later, when she couldn’t bear to keep it from me any longer.” He pauses for a moment, watching Regulus who feels the question coming before it ever makes it out of the older man’s mouth. “Do you know why I’m telling you about this, Regulus?”

He considers for a few seconds. “Unless you’ve told James to do the same as Effie, I haven’t a clue, sir.”

He looks as though he is going to protest the use of ‘sir,’ but forgets it as he focused on answering his own prior question. “I’m telling you this, because when Effie finally admitted that she had known about it all, she had the biggest smile on her face, and I think I only fell harder for her that night. And, also on the positive side of things, James rolled around nine months later, so do with that what you will.”

Regulus’ first instinct is to scrunch his nose with this newfound knowledge, but he finds himself smiling instead. Admittedly, he does feel a little better, though he does still have to talk to James; talking to his dad is not exactly enough, and the man isn’t psychic, as far as he knows.

It’s Effie’s voice that makes them get to their feet, not wanting to keep the other two Potters waiting any longer, when Regulus asks him, “Fleamont? Did you— were you… annoyed at Effie at all, for not telling you about it?”

He doesn’t even think about it. “Honestly, I think I wanted to be, at first. But then I realised that she cared for me so much that she did her absolute best to keep the surprise, so she wouldn’t ruin it for me. I didn’t have the heart to be angry after that.”

Regulus might just have his most optimistic mindset yet right now.

*

Lily

As it turns out, Lily’s guess had been closer to their wake-up time than Mary’s had. She awakes to an empty bed almost four hours after the call with Regulus, and immediately gets out of bed to look for Mary. It’s like a reflex, at this point. She can’t even begin getting ready before checking on her, and making sure she’s here and alright.

She enters the kitchen and is welcomed by the sound of something sizzling on the stove, whilst a warm, sweet scent greets her at the door. Mary’s back is turned to her as she stirs something in a pan, and she clearly doesn’t hear Lily walk towards her, for she shows no signs of having done so.

Lily takes advantage of this, quickly wrapping her arms around her waist before moving her curly hair out of the way so she can press a kiss to her cheek, then her neck, then behind her ear.

She can feel the woman smile, which causes her to mirror the expression as she pulls away.

“Not while I’m cooking, Evans,” she chastises, swatting at her with the spatula.

“Oh, but I can’t help it,” she returns with a grin. “You’re just irresistible, love. Can’t keep my hands off you.”

She scoffs playfully. “Well, of course I know that. You don’t have to prove it while I’m cooking, though.”

Lily glances warily at the pan where a—slightly misshaped, but otherwise visibly edible—pancake is cooking, the small bubbles indicating that it is ready to be flipped, which Mary diligently does.

“You’re cooking?” she says anyway, because how often does this happen in their house?

“Yes, I am. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No, no, of course not…” she trails off, squealing when that earns her a pinch on the arm. “I’m just saying, should we have an ambulance on speed-dial, or…?”

“I’m not going to poison you.”

“Well…”

“You have three seconds to leave before I change my mind and poison you on purpose.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“One…”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” she yelps, practically flying out of the room to begin getting ready for the day. Well, whatever is left of it, anyway.

Then, they’ll eat, and she won’t get food poisoning, despite her sarcastic suspicions of her throat growing scratchy, which Mary will swiftly remind her is a symptom of an allergic reaction, which wouldn’t technically be her fault.

The days continue passing, as they always do, and nothing remotely dramatic happens, because there isn’t any space for it in their lives. They’re happy, and they’re together, and they’ll continue like that for the rest of their lives.

She really is glad Mary was around when the officiator said ‘speak now.’

Chapter Text

Epilogue—One Year Later: Mary

She is on her way to pick up Lily when she messages Regulus, just to double check that everything is as it should be and going according to plan. They cannot mess this up. It has to be perfect, just like Lily.

Of course, he sends an inhumanely sarcastic text in response, clearly annoyed that Mary is being the flustered one despite making fun of him over the last year that he would be the one assuming that role when this day should come.

Now, here it is, and Mary is freaking out.

One tiny slip up could cost her a lot, and that doesn’t do much to calm one’s nerves, in all honesty. Oh, this is awful, why did she ever agree to this? Alright, forget she said that, she is doing this for obvious reasons.

What was she saying?

Ah, right, the plan.

Nope, absolutely not, simply thinking about it makes her nauseous, so she is going to do what she does best; ignore her problems until they come and bite her or however the saying goes.

Oh, shut up, you’d be nervous too if you were about to propose to the love of your life.

Mary’s heart literally stutters in her chest as she watches Lily make her way down the steps in front of their flat and towards the car where she awaits her in the front seat. She would open the door for her but she isn’t quite sure of whether her legs will be able to support her completely if she stands, given how much they’re shaking at the moment.

Lily opens the door and takes her seat beside her, buckling her seatbelt before turning to Mary expectantly with a small smile. And Mary just… stares, for a bit. Frankly, she finds it much too easy to get lost in the magic that is Lily Evans, not that she is complaining about even being able to do so in the first place. She’s just so beautiful. She is the kind of person that statues are made of, the ones that people flock to from all over the world to marvel at their surrealness, just because. And she’s all Mary’s.

What is she to do with that?

“Mare?” she says eventually with a curious look when Mary remains silent. “Are you going to start driving, or…?”

That snaps her out of it. “Er, right, yeah, of course,” she stammers, jolting to begin the journey. “You— you look amazing, Lils.”

There’s the smile; the big one, the genuine one she gets to witness every day and thanks her lucky stars for. She has that smile memorised, the look of it, the way it makes her heart swoop in her chest, the feel of it against her own lips.

“Thank you,” she replies, pleased. “So do you.”

The fact that Mary doesn’t respond with some form of ‘of course I do, it’s me’ has Lily glancing at her like something is slightly off, but she seems to ignore it as the car starts moving.

Mary desperately hopes that she won’t start sweating.

What a way to ruin a moment that would be though, right?

*

Regulus

Regulus would just like to have it known that, once again, he was right. Is this a surprise? No; he surrounds himself with such imbeciles that he ends up correct in almost every single disagreement he has with a person, but it does get a little tiring, constantly being able to say ‘I told you so.’

Then again, it’s better than being wrong.

He’s at the restaurant before Mary and Lily arrive, hopefully blending in with the staff in a suit that he hasn’t worn in a long while now. And then, something simultaneously amusing and awful happens.

He bumps into James.

James. James is here. At the restaurant that Mary is going to propose to Lily. Just like Regulus. With a rather similar suit. Well, that can only mean one thing.

“Oh, sor— Reg?” James adds as he appears to notice the presence of his boyfriend. “What are you doing here?”

“The more important question is what are you doing here, and is it the same reason for which I am here?”

They study each other for a moment, either refusing to break first, but James gives in rather quickly, like he doesn’t want to waste time being, well, them, at the minute.

“You’re here to help Mary,” he points out slowly, eyes dragging up and down Regulus’ costume. “Oh, this is either going to go really well or downright horribly.”

He sighs in response. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.”

“Where has she told you to plant the ring?” James inquires curiously, giving up on all pretence now.

“In the wine, right at the end,” he admits, because this is already going to be extremely confusing so why not? “What about you?”

“The same thing,” he answers with a tiny grin, as though the situation delights him. “She wanted to put it in the cake at first but then got worried that maybe Mary would choke on it or something. I suggested just proposing to her at the table, but no, Lily Evans is nothing if not determined to do things her own way.”

Regulus snorts. “You got that half right,” he agrees before spotting said woman and her girlfriend at the door and quickly grabbing James by the arm to hide them both behind a rectangular pillar. Now what? Do they both just carry on with the plans and watch to see how it ends?

James peeks around the corner to watch the two be escorted to a pair of seats by a waiter, then turns to Regulus who understands before he ever opens his mouth.

“What do we do?” he asks, apparently only just now realising the gravity of the situation.

Regulus considers for a bit. It wouldn’t be fair to take the opportunity from one of them and decide who that one will be between the two of them. They’re just going to have to pretend everything is normal and do what they came here to do, and hope it goes alright.

Mainly because neither of them will be surviving tonight if they mess this up in the least.

*

Lily

Lily hasn’t seen James yet, which either means that he is doing a spectacular job of blending in with the actual waiters or that something has gone wrong somehow. Despite the lack of evidence, she finds herself gravitating towards the latter, not that this helps the nerves at all.

And then she sees him, across the room, he flashes a grin at her to signal that everything is, indeed, okay and going according to plan; the relief on her face must show for Mary looks at her sceptically.

“Are you alright?” she inquires, brows pinching together slightly.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I’m— I’m great. Just… wondering what to get, that’s all.”

Mary does not seem to buy this lie one bit, but thankfully bypasses it as not too important and flips her menu open whilst Lily follows suit. She can practically hear her heartbeat a mile a minute in her chest, hoping with all of her might that the woman opposite her is oblivious to any and all abnormal-seeming things taking place around her. Perhaps it is simply because she is hoping for it, but it seems to be so. For now, she can breathe.

James better not mess this up.

*

James

James sits in a corner of the restaurant, behind Mary so she wouldn’t be able to see him unless she suddenly turned one hundred and eighty degrees, while Regulus does the same on the other side behind Lily. They have both been spotted by the person in the couple that hired them and not the other, so it is going fairly well, but it has been almost an hour now and the two have just ordered the wine. This is where it gets a little… iffy.

Seeing as he has the better view of the kitchen door, it is James who signals to Regulus with the smallest of nods when the waiter returns with a tray holding two glasses of wine and the two of them stand before quickly making their way towards the man.

“I’ll get this to the table,” James tells him, taking the tray before the man can protest. “Table seven are ready to order.”

And with that, he walks off with the drinks, Regulus discreetly following from a small distance as the actual waiter blinks then leaves to find table seven; James can only pray that his intuition had given him a good lie.

He darts behind the same pillar again where Regulus is already waiting, invisible to the girls, and they both take the rings from their pockets before swiftly placing them inside the drinks. Now all that is left to do is watch the chaos unfold.

Mary and Lily are so busy staring at each other and the drinks being placed in front of their partner—not their own, unfortunately—that neither of them even notice who their waiter is, which James supposes he should be grateful for. He wastes no time at all, lowering the glasses onto the table and quickly backing away towards Regulus so they can find out how this is going to go together. Almost holding their breaths from anticipation, they watch as the girls lift the cups, neither of them having noticed yet, and clink them together before raising them to their mouths.

Pause.

Slowly, as one, they lower them again, finally having realised that they aren’t as smart as they thought they were. They look from their respective drinks to each other and back again. James practically strangles Regulus’ hand as he awaits some kind of reaction, not that he understands until later, and then the girls break out into identical grins.

“Yes,” they chorus together, standing to hug with teary eyes which is precisely the moment that James cannot physically bear it any longer.

He is crying before he ever reaches them, throwing himself at the pair before they ever see him coming, and he thinks Regulus follows from behind then waits his turn like a normal person. Not that he cares much.

Two of his closest friends are getting married, isn’t this wonderful? He isn’t quite sure why he wasn’t better prepared for this, really, given the role he played in it all, but he doesn’t give it much thought, in all honesty.

He backs away to give Regulus his turn, tears still streaming down his face for which his boyfriend apologises tiredly yet fondly, he can’t help but point out.

“Nah, it’s alright,” Lily dismisses, smiling at them both. “I knew going into this what asking James to help meant, so the only person who’s surprised here really is my fiancée.”

Mary grins. “Are you kidding? I’m not surprised at all. In fact, I expected nothing less from you, Potter.”

James takes that as a compliment because, well, he can and he wants to, so why not?

“I’m so happy for you guys,” he announces as if this wasn’t clear as day already.

“They know, James,” Regulus assures him as if he’s trying to hold back a laugh. “Well, we’ve ruined your day enough, we’ll get out of your way now.”

“This is why I love you, Reggie,” Mary declares, smacking a big kiss on first Regulus’, then James’ cheek. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my fiancée and I have some newly-engaged shagging to do.”

And with that delightful news, she grabs Lily by the hand and leads her right out of the restaurant, presumably to the car to go home. Regulus wrinkles his nose at them, but James just smiles. He just… loves love, you know? It’s such a beautiful thing. Speaking of…

“Want to go home yet?” he asks the man beside him with a smile.

“Almost,” he replies unexpectedly. “I want to show you something first.”

James’ eyebrows jump up his forehead. “And what might that be?”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

*

Regulus

He purposefully drives slowly because of the promise he had made to Mary, watching the time tick by until there are five minutes to midnight, which is exactly when they arrive and he stops the car.

James looks out of the window before turning back to him with a surprised grin. “Hogwarts? What are we doing here?”

Regulus reveals nothing, leading him onto the school grounds and into the building itself which James points out is probably not exactly allowed, and what if McGonagall were to catch them of all people right now, and a bunch of other stuff that he chooses to ignore.

The route is embedded into his memory forever, at this point, and apparently James’ too, for when he stops his rambling, he pauses to ask, “Are we going where I think we’re going?”

Again, Regulus remains silent.

It doesn’t take them much longer to reach the flight of stairs which they then climb and open the door at the top to let themselves into the astronomy tower. James almost immediately rushes to the window to gaze out of it while Regulus stays slightly behind him, watching the final few seconds pass by on his watch as they enter a new day. He’s kept his promise; they won’t have the same engagement anniversary. Now comes the difficult part.

“It feels like it’s been forever,” the man at the window breathes, still with his back to his boyfriend who is now on one knee with a ring box propped open in his hands. “Yet I still remember every single—“

He freezes in place for a moment, then two, just staring in dumbfounded shock. Subconsciously, Regulus feels a smile make its way onto his face despite the chill in the air.

“I wanted to do it here,” he explains, still on the floor. “Where it all started. I know, it’s not like me, the whole big gesture thing, but… you have that effect on a person, I think. And, the strange part is, that I don’t mind. I like who I am with you better than I do the me who’s alone, and I am endlessly grateful for your mere existence every second of every day. Sometimes, I feel like this is all just a dream, and that I’m going to wake up and everything is going to be awful again, but I figure that whatever this is, I might as well enjoy it. So, James Fleamont Potter, will you marry me?”

And James continues to stare, tears welling in his eyes and his mouth hanging open the tiniest bit. It takes him another few seconds suspended in silence to finally answer.

“Yes,” he whispers, then repeats, louder this time, “Yes, I— of course I will, you lunatic, who would I be to say no?”

And for a brief moment, it’s like they’re teenagers again, and anything is possible, because they have each other. And that’s all they need.

The stars in the sky twinkle like they’ve finally gotten the happy ending they were hoping for all these years, watching over them even now.