Chapter Text
Regulus can’t feel his toes. He's been on the ice for at least four hours straight trying to perfect his jumps, his mother's voice in his head "stop being a baby, you need to go to practise today. You're already far behind from when your brother was at this age."
That was before his brother left. An Olympic medalist, that's what he would've been, if hadn’t left the ice in the middle of his program at the competition that qualified him for the Olympics.
After that, tensions were high within the walls of Grimmauld place, but Sirius was still with them. And maybe it could've stayed like that, but Sirius would never be content with that. No, he announced to the public he quit figure skating and was now going to pursue hockey instead. That was the straw that broke the camel's back and he was disowned.
Now Regulus pushes himself harder than before. He is not going to fail. There is no other option. That's why he now spends every moment he can at the rink. To win.
It was a quiet day, and right now he has the ice to himself. Focused on perfecting his quadruple loop, he doesn’t hear the rink doors open.
“Hello!”
Regulus is startled as the voice broke his concentration, causing him to underrotate and fall out of his jump. He’s been so absorbed that he didn’t notice anyone entering the rink.
"I'm so sorry," the voice exclaims, getting closer and eventually stopping in front of him.
Regulus looks up to see hockey skates. Of course, he should have known it was a hockey player. Any self respecting figure skater would know not to interrupt someone about to jump. “Here, let me help you up”
Regulus scoffs, pulling himself to his feet and then skating right past the outreached hand of the stranger.
Without acknowledging him, Regulus turns back to his skating, pulling power from crossovers to set up the jump. As he takes off, Regulus is vaguely aware of the other skater continuing to look at him. The landing is sloppy, but he finds his balance after fumbling a little.
The word failure floats around his head. It’s a word with which he is intimately familiar, mainly from his mother. Skating to the barrier to grab his water bottle, he hears the stranger skating over to him.
“So what's your name? Or should I just call you elusive skating stranger?" Regulus finally turns to look at the stranger. It takes all his self control not to drop his water bottle in awe.
Growing up in the house of Black gives him an unparalleled ability to mask his emotions, it doesn’t even require conscious thought anymore.
Hazel eyes are the first thought that breaks through the haze. The boy’s jet black hair is an uncontrolled mess, but it suits him, as does his crooked glasses.
“I’m James” The silent bubble around them breaks. "And you are?”
Oh.
“Regulus”
He hums as if he is processing each letter in the name. “Well, Regulus, your jump was good”
Regulus scoffs, " Good? I'd like to see you do that."
"Don't have to." He smirks, making him, impossibly, more attractive. "But if I did, I wouldn’t rely on just the crossovers to provide my momentum. You can't just depend on one power source. Speed doesn't equal power.”
“And I should take advice from a hockey player .”
“ I might be a hockey player, but I'm also a Potter, and judging from that jump, you know exactly what that means.”
Euphemia Potter, a 3-time Olympic medalist. with 2 golds and 1 silver. Also, the person that ruined Walburga's life and career (at least according to her).
“Why would you waste all that familial talent on playing hockey?”
"Never tried it befo-"
James doesn’t even get to finish that sentence, because Regulus can’t help but interrupt, “So you’re telling me that the son of a two-time gold medalist has never tried figure skating.”
“Well, I did some lessons when I was younger but quit after I learned the bunny hop, I just didn't care for it I guess.”
“So now you're wasting your talent by hitting a ball with a stick. Because you didn't feel like it .”
“Puck.”
“What?”
"You said ball. I don't hit a ball with a stick, I hit a puck.” He flashes Regulus a small smile.
“Is that the only thing you grasped from what I said? That I said ball instead of puck!?"
“No, I heard what you said. I just don't like to pay attention to the negatives in life.”
Regulus stares at the boy in disbelief. To be so naive in such a cruel world was surely a death sentence.
“Let me see it again" James excitedly looks at him.
"See what?”
“Your jump. I have some time before practice starts”
"And why would I do that? "
"I'm a Potter , remember. I contain an abundance of skating knowledge.”
Regulus scoffs as he makes his way onto the ice to practise the jump. As he’s skating away, James calls out, "Don't forget! More power from your core."
Turning backwards he starts his crossovers, but this time he makes sure to take his time, pressing into the ice and getting power with each stroke. He sets himself up and performs three perfect rotations, landing smoother than any previous attempt.
Just as he slings his bag over his shoulder to leave, he hears James, “Bye Regulus”
"Bye, James."
Regulus smiles so slightly that surely no one who isn’t staring at him would notice.
James notices.